#88: Impossible / ep.2
The lift stopped at Basement Level 2. A bleak corridor stretched out from the lobby. Barely concealed fluorescent tubes illuminated the exposed concrete of the ceiling, walls and floor.
“Will you come with me…?”
Michelle had hold of the pass case hanging around Mikoto’s neck. Like a dog refusing to go for a walk, Mikoto was being led away to the basement.
Of course, she could escape if she really wanted to. But then the Secretary Division would learn everything about the plan. Mikoto would lose her chance at a new job, Sanae would lose her chance of returning to headquarters, and she would never be able to give Shandy the reassurance she wanted to.
If nothing else, she needed to make contact.
Just as Mikoto turned her attention towards the smartphone in her bag, Michelle murmured:
“We’re far enough down that there’s no signal. So now… we can trust each other, right?”
With an ambiguous smile, Michelle showed her own phone. The signal indicator read No Service.
Then, as though that were not enough, she pulled more phones out of the pocket of her cardigan.
There were four of them.
“Are all those yours?”
“I was told I could have them. It seemed rude to refuse… Do you want one? It’s the new model.”
“No thanks…”
According to Sanae, the Secretary Division’s work was to manage relationships in the world of high society, something the General Affairs Department could not handle. They hosted parties, attended dinners, and sometimes cultivated relationships that went beyond that, all to maintain partnerships between companies.
In other words, the smartphones Michelle carried were more or less the number of people who had fallen for her.
Though there were probably more in reality.
Michelle switched all four phones off and put them back into her pockets. The thin cardigan had been stretched into something resembling a little duster coat under the weight of the phones.
“What is this place? What are you planning to do?”
At the end of the corridor on Basement Level 2 was a card reader for ID cards. A heavy-looking steel door stood behind it, marked:
SECOND EMERGENCY SUPPLIES STORAGE ROOM
Michelle raised her ID to the card reader, then stopped.
“I’d rather you called me Michelle than ‘you’…?”
“Excuse me?”
It was an eerie smile.
Mikoto had no idea what had made her happy, or what she found so amusing that she needed to smile.
True to her name, Michelle’s pale skin did not look particularly Asian, while her dark green eyes, almost like jade, darted restlessly from side to side.
“I’m opening it.”
The card reader scanned Michelle’s ID with a short beep. A tiny slit-like LED turned green, followed by the solid clunk of the lock releasing.
But Michelle did not move.
Had there still been something else she needed to do, despite unlocking the door?
Mikoto tensed.
She stared at the unopened door, holding her breath, until Michelle whispered apologetically:
“This door is heavy. I can’t open it… Can you help me…?”
The tension drained from Mikoto’s shoulders.
＊
“…I see. So Hiroo Michelle has made her move.”
After receiving Toko’s call, Sanae sighed quietly in the conference room.
Hibiya Trading, Hamamatsu Branch.
The headquarters of the Resistance was far from the main office, here in Hamamatsu.
This was the birthplace of Hibiya Trading and the hometown of its current president. It had been designated as a second headquarters, where, in an emergency, the company’s most capable employees could be evacuated and use the site as a command centre from which to oppose a coup.
Elite personnel had gathered here from across the country.
Nomura, the commander of the Resistance who had brought them all together, including Sanae, stroked his unshaven chin and asked:
“Yanase-san, what’s the situation with the Secretary Division?”
“One of our allies has been captured. If she’s still inside the company, she should be somewhere underground.”
Sanae was one of the administrators of Secure, Hibiya’s company-wide security system.
She could trace everything from employees’ clock-in and clock-out records to the IP addresses of employees working remotely, even the access logs of the ID card she had given Mikoto.
Furthermore, the pass case entrusted to Toko contained a miniature listening device.
According to Toko, who was acting as backup, the voice on the other end was Hiroo Michelle.
There was a high probability that she had abducted Mikoto.
“We don’t have enough people here either. We can’t ask the people at headquarters to search for her.”
“I know.”
Even Sanae, the General Affairs Department’s bloodhound, had not known about this.
The incident with the Secretary Division was merely the tip of the iceberg.
The current disturbance was a clash between the old and new factions ahead of the board meeting in a few days’ time.
A company-wide internal coup, erupting simultaneously across all thirteen of Hibiya’s departments, branches and subsidiaries.
“Isn’t there anything we can do, Yanase-san?”
“Well…”
Growling in a low voice like a hungry hunting hound, Sanae organised her thoughts.
The people she had left behind at headquarters were her subordinates, Iida and Akazawa.
But both of them were known to the Secretary Division, and Akazawa in particular was still operating undercover inside it. If either of them moved carelessly and blew their cover, the mission Sanae had entrusted to them could collapse.
She opened the contacts on her own phone and stopped at the entries beginning with the initial S.
There was one person who would stop at nothing if Mikoto were in trouble.
“I do have a trump card. But I’d like to keep it in reserve for now.”
Sanae gave instructions to Toko, who was waiting outside headquarters as backup.
“Sorry, Toko. Change of plan. Please proceed with Plan B.”
“Got it. Oh, if there’s good news and bad news, which do you want first?”
“I’ll indulge you in that as much as you like later.”
“Roger!”
For some reason, Toko’s voice came through with the theatrical delivery of an actress.
Even in this crisis, Toko’s good mood lightened the burden resting on Sanae’s shoulders, if only slightly.
＊
The Second Emergency Supplies Storage Room was exactly what its name suggested.
The concrete-floored facility contained emergency provisions for use in a disaster: non-perishable food, water, hygiene supplies, thermal sheets and all the rest.
At the very back of the storage room, beyond the rows of supplies, was a small open area divided off by partitions.
Mikoto was sitting there.
Or rather, she was tied to a folding metal chair and unable to move.
Her torso was wrapped round and round in packing tape, leaving her looking like a mummy.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t hurt… does it?”
The culprit responsible for tying Mikoto up, Hiroo Michelle, asked apologetically.
Even if she adopted such a meek attitude now, there was no way Mikoto’s attitude would soften.
“If I say it hurts, will you untie me?”
“That I can’t do. Sorry…”
“If you’re going to apologise, don’t tie me up in the first place…”
Michelle placed another folding chair directly in front of Mikoto and settled into it
Pale skin.
Jade-green eyes.
Her eyebrows bent into a perpetual worried V as she stared at Mikoto.
Minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence, as though Michelle were patiently waiting for Mikoto to say something.
At last, Michelle opened her mouth.
“Um… It’s boring, isn’t it?”
“…”
“Um, you know? When people are bored, they talk to each other, right?”
“…”
“I… I’d like to make small talk…?”
What on earth is this woman talking about?
She had abducted and imprisoned someone, and now she wanted to make small talk.
What kind of mind worked like this?
Or perhaps she was testing her somehow.
Mikoto watched Michelle’s expression carefully.
“…Are you pretending to make small talk so you can get something out of me?”
“No. I want to talk. With you, Mikoto-san…”
“Then untie me.”
“I don’t want you to run away… But can we still talk…?”
“What kind of selfish compromise is that…?”
Mikoto was deeply exasperated by Michelle, who was impossible to classify as either greedy or humble.
Besides, if there was something she desperately wanted Mikoto to confess, why not threaten her?
Michelle showed no sign of intending to do that.
It was also suspicious that she had not even brought a weapon.
If she searched the emergency supplies room, surely she could find at least a knife.
“You’ve never done anything like this before, have you? Capturing someone, taking them underground, and wrapping them up like this.”
“N-no…”
“Have you ever had it done to you?”
“N-no..
“But you can at least imagine that being treated like this would make someone not exactly feel like talking, right?”
Anger had sharpened Mikoto’s tone.
Michelle flinched every time she spoke.
Mikoto did not know what Michelle might do if she lost her temper, so she gave her a gentle smile.
Just smile and somehow things would work out.
That was something she had learned from Kotone.
“Um… But you’re bored, right…? When people are bored, everyone talks to me.”
“Who’s everyone? The Secretary Division?”
“Not my seniors… Friends and stuff…”
“We’re not friends, are we?”
“That’s true…! But I… I don’t know how to make small talk. Everyone always came and talked to me, so I only had to answer them…”
After a pause, Michelle continued with another vague, roundabout answer.
Mikoto felt a powerful sense of wrongness, but she still could not put her finger on what exactly was wrong.
Unlike Shandy, Mikoto lacked the insight, powers of observation and sheer experience necessary to read Michelle at a glance.
All she could do was ask questions and gradually build up her understanding.
Was Hiroo Michelle an XYZ or not?
This was a Game.
“Fine. We can make small talk, but there’s one rule. We both have to answer honestly. How about that?”
“…Okay.”
Michelle nodded without the slightest sign of suspicion.
Then she once again waited for Mikoto to say something.
She was absolutely determined not to make the first move herself.
Had abducting and imprisoning Mikoto simply been the result of someone finally managing to get her to take action?
Or had someone instructed her to do it?
“Then why did you imprison me?”
“That’s…”
Was she thoughtful, or merely hesitant?
Once Michelle began considering an answer, she took her time.
Mikoto did not have time to spare.
In that case, she would simply narrow down the possibilities.
“Were you told to get in my way?”
“No… I wasn’t.”
“Then did you just want to skip work?”
“I do want to skip work, but that’s not it…”
“Hmm…? Then what is it?”
For all that Michelle had said she wanted to make small talk, their conversation remained completely stuck.
Even when she finally opened her mouth, she spoke so timidly that they got nowhere.
On top of that…
“Ah! Um, you know? I think you’re wonderful, Mikoto-san. I thought… I’d like to be friends with you!”
She was trying to pick Mikoto up under these circumstances.
There was no consistency or planning whatsoever to Michelle’s behaviour.
Even as a new form of flirting, it was too eccentric.
“Do people normally tie up someone they want to be friends with?”
“B-but… if I don’t, nobody listens to me…”
If this was how Michelle normally conducted conversations, anyone without extraordinary patience would eventually drift away.
Especially her colleagues in the Secretary Division, who were so impatient and self-centred.
“Aren’t you close with everyone in the Secretary Division?”
“My seniors…”
The moment Mikoto mentioned the Secretary Division, Michelle fell silent.
Perhaps something had happened that caused trouble.
Mikoto threw out the first possibility that came to mind, putting on an expression of mild concern.
“Are you being bullied?”
“U-uh-huh…”
Bullseye.
Mikoto felt a little proud of the insight she had honed through dealing with Shandy.
And if bullying really was at the root of this, perhaps she could separate Michelle from the Secretary Division and turn her into an ally.
Mikoto spoke to Michelle in a calm, low voice, trying to make her feel safe.
“That must have been hard. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“…You’ll understand? Mikoto-san…?”
“Of course I will. Bullying’s awful, isn’t it?”
“Everyone’s awful… They probably hate me…”
“Mm-hm.”
Mikoto immediately regretted the things she had blurted out so casually, as though soothing a child.
“At the Secretary Division, we ordered some bento as a trial, so everyone could try the food we were going to serve to guests. And then… mine was the only one without chopsticks…”
“And?”
“Huh…? I was the only one without chopsticks…?”
People reacted differently to things, but surely the bento shop had simply forgotten to include a pair of chopsticks.
The Secretary Division was hardly so bored that they would deliberately leave out exactly one pair as an act of bullying.
“Ah, I see. That must have been upsetting…”
They had established a rule that they would not lie to each other, and she was already lying.
Still, she was talking to the person who had abducted her. There was no point provoking her by saying the wrong thing.
“And then, and then, Kuto-san gave me her chopsticks.”
“Oh, Akazawa’s kind, isn’t she?”
“But then, and then? The chopsticks Kuto-san gave me were a little short…”
Michelle stopped there.
Apparently, the chopsticks were short was supposed to be the tragic part of the story.
Disposable chopsticks that came with station bento, for example, were often shorter than the ones provided at restaurants or convenience stores.
“A-Akazawa’s such a horrible woman, isn’t she?”
So what?
But people were entitled to feel differently about things.
People were entitled to feel differently.
Mikoto repeated that to herself, then accepted Michelle’s story without being dismissive and insulted Akazawa on her behalf.
Sorry, Akazawa.
“But then, and then. Kuto-san is kind, you know…? She was the only one who put on my key ring.”
“Key ring?”
When Mikoto asked about it, the conversation somehow shifted to Michelle’s overseas travels, and Mikoto was forced to listen to a grand two-month holiday tour across Europe, based out of Michelle’s family home in Italy.
The story was rambling and disjointed.
She would show Mikoto photographs of impossibly obscure tourist destinations and explain them at length, only to have taken no photographs whatsoever at famous places that actually sounded like somewhere one might want to see.
Her sense of proportion was completely broken.
Mikoto gave the occasional vague response and let the story wash over her, until she finally began to understand what the key ring had been about.
Apparently, Michelle had bought key rings as souvenirs for her department while travelling around Europe.
“So Akazawa was the only one who put on the souvenir key ring?”
“So, and then, and then, I like Kuto-san…”
“By the way, what about the others?”
Michelle’s face, which had been faintly flushed and happily animated, suddenly wilted.
Apparently, the other three had refused to accept them.
“…Rieru is all talk.”
Secretary Division, Utada Rieru.
She was Akazawa’s contemporary and Michelle’s senior. According to the materials Sanae had given Mikoto, she was a former reader model who had failed to make it as an entertainer.
“She said she’d definitely put the key ring on, but she didn’t. She says we should go out for dinner, but she never takes me. She says work must be hard, but she never helps me. Kuto-san isn’t like that.”
Apparently, Rieru had a habit of overusing polite social niceties.
More importantly, Mikoto had assumed Akazawa was a completely self-centred person who thought only of herself, so she was rather impressed to discover that Michelle actually looked up to her.
Perhaps it was even a survival tactic on Akazawa’s part, deliberately approaching Michelle because everyone else avoided her, and thereby acquiring a subordinate or follower.
“That’s why… I hate Rieru.”
“I-I see…”
“The other day, I overheard Rieru badmouthing me on the phone. She said, ‘Michelle’s clothes are so unfashionable. It’d be the end of the world if we showed up wearing the same thing.’”
“That’s awful…”
“But then, and then. When I wear Louboutins, Rieru wears Louboutins too. Even though she said it would be the end of the world if we matched. Are Louboutins different somehow? What do you think, Mikoto-san?”
Rieru was probably competing with Michelle.
“Th-that, I don’t know. I don’t own shoes that expensive.”
“Really? I thought everyone had at least one pair.”
At last, Mikoto felt as though she was beginning to get a handle on Hiroo Michelle.
The rules of the Game meant she could not lie.
Of course, there was no way to prove that she was telling the truth.
But Michelle had absolutely no reason to lie right now.
Which meant there was no hidden meaning behind what she was saying.
And if there was no hidden meaning…
“…You’re just naturally like this?”
“Huh? Yes… Louboutins are made of natural leather, you know…?”
Michelle was completely, genuinely oblivious.
The fact that she had abducted and imprisoned Mikoto without any plan whatsoever.
The fact that she had tied someone up, only to suggest making small talk because she was bored.
The way her stories floated about as though she were trying to catch clouds.
The fact that she could spend ages talking about things that inevitably sounded like bragging.
The fact that everyone always came to talk to her.
Which meant the people who gathered around her had probably been taking care of everything for her.
The two-month family holiday in Europe.
Louboutins.
“Ah, I see… You’re a rich girl, aren’t you, Michelle-san…?”
“Huh? Yes. How did you know…?”
“Ah… well… woman’s intuition?”
“You’re amazing, you’re amazing! You’re amazing, Mikoto-san…!”
She had heard that the Secretary Division was a nest of women with all sorts of peculiarities.
Not long ago, there had been Akazawa.
More recently, Mikoto had been grilled by the department head and the others, and had tasted more than enough bitterness at their hands.
At first, she had thought Michelle was the only quiet one.
But now that the lid had been taken off, Michelle was every bit as much of a handful as the others.
And, to make matters worse, she was an extraordinarily eccentric woman who had abducted and imprisoned Mikoto simply because she wanted to be her friend.
Half exasperated and half resigned, Mikoto decided to put on a fake smile for the time being.
Come to think of it, ever since they had promised not to lie to each other, she had done nothing but lie.
“…Th-then, could you tell me about the other people too?”
“Okay. I like you because you listen to me, Mikoto-san, and because you’re kind…”
“Ah, haha… If you like me, couldn’t you untie me? My arms are starting to go numb here, you know!?”
“Your blood circulation has gotten bad, hasn’t it…? Then I’ll talk while I give you a massage…?”
Mikoto could not bring herself to say, No, just untie me.
And so she ended up listening to a long, incomprehensible stream of conversation while the culprit behind her own abduction and imprisonment massaged both her shoulders and arms.