#113: a complete farce / ep.1
Even after the graveside commotion wrapped up, Shandy didn’t go back to Kyodo.
Both the Kyodo apartment and Antiqua in Roppongi were held under Ashiya Chie’s name on the property registry. On top of that, apparently every location Shandy might conceivably head for had already been catalogued — Kotone’s apartment, obviously, but also the Yanase household, and even Mikoto’s own family home.
Which meant the hideout she’d chosen was, of all places—
“I’ve been assigned to General Affairs starting today. New hire Charlotte Gabriel. Please, call me Shirley.”
—Hibiya Trading.
“Fufu, the suit look works on me too, don’t you think?”
In the basement-two-floor storeroom that had become Michelle’s usual hideout, Shandy — now going by Shirley — was smiling brightly.
Mikoto wasn’t sure where to even begin asking. She gave up searching for a starting question almost immediately.
This was a woman who lived for words like “outlandish,” “sideways,” “heterodox.” Even cornered as she supposedly was, she was humming to herself; just watching her left Mikoto exasperated.
“You just want me to say it suits you.”
“Naturally. After all, I’m currently a Sparkling Office Lady of Hibiya. Having finally made it to the sacred ground of workplace romance, wouldn’t it be a waste not to enjoy myself?”
Dressed in a three-quarter-sleeve jacket and trouser suit, Shandy clicked her high heels together and spun on the spot. Something like a costume-day event, presumably.
The voice that came from slightly below Mikoto’s own eyeline — annoyingly, unable to help staring — echoed through the empty basement storeroom.
“The workplace is not somewhere to nurture love. It’s somewhere to accumulate results.”
“Coming from someone who accumulated results and then scored herself a marriage. Those words carry some weight.”
Silencing Sanae with a single line, Shandy laughed with obvious delight. A reliable enough laugh, admittedly, though the one drawback was her inability to resist showering sarcasm and jabs at anyone she felt comfortable enough with — and Sanae, for her part, kept a perfectly cool expression regardless.
Best not to say anything more. There’d be no point anyway.
Rather than dwell on it, Mikoto got straight to the matter at hand.
“Would you mind explaining? This new hire’s motivation for applying, and what exactly is going on here.”
“Yes,” Sanae answered simply, and laid out the situation.
“To flush out Chesha’s spy inside the company, I asked for Charlotte’s cooperation. If the woman the boss has been chasing suddenly shows up at the very company the boss has her sights on, it’s bound to throw the enemy off balance.”
“In other words, I’m your counter-spy. And for such a distinguished role, I’m being paid a mere thousand yen an hour, you realise. Give me a raise or I’ll be taking this to the spring wage negotiations. Trick or wage increase.”
“Please refrain from using newly-learned business terminology. It’ll show. You’re academically underqualified, after all.”
“There it is, harassment noted.”
Ignoring Shandy’s teasing entirely, Sanae held out two bundles of A4 paper. The title printed on the cover, “A Corner of the Office,” and the signature underneath, “Yanase Touko,” gave Mikoto an immediate bad feeling. Nothing good had ever come from a gift bearing Touko’s name.
“This is the script.”
“Indeed.”
Shandy flipped through it without a shred of hesitation, but Mikoto’s fingers refused to move the same way. The instant she understood it was a script, she regretted having asked for an explanation at all, several minutes too late.
“It’s the script for flushing out the enemy. Touko put it together in three days.”
“Looks like enough material for a full drama series. I wonder if I can act it convincingly.”
“Old skills die hard, surely. Mikoto-san, any issues?”
The instant she turned to the first page, Mikoto stopped thinking entirely. Right there in the second slot on the cast list, the supporting-lead position, was written: Kurosu Mikoto — played by Kurosu Mikoto.
And there were other names listed too. Sanae and the rest of the Special Missions crew, Rinko. On top of that, Kotone herself — a genuine professional — billed as a supporting actress.
“H-hold on? I really think Kotone shouldn’t be involved, her fee’s way too—”
“She agreed instantly. Said her fee wouldn’t be necessary if you’d arrange a love scene with Rinko-san in the production.”
“Mikoto-san, you’d better read through the script too. I imagine some character study will be needed.”
Apparently everyone besides Mikoto had already fallen in line. Whether to call it sheer recklessness or admirable flexibility, words failed her entirely. Above all, Shandy — cast as the lead — had already started touching up her makeup. Matching the tone of the script, presumably; her blush had been dialled up noticeably, clearly aiming for maximum cuteness.
Reading nervously through the pages, Mikoto found her own cue arriving right after Charlotte’s opening entrance.
Mikoto spots Charlotte and rushes over.
Mikoto: “What do you think you’re doing?”
Charlotte: “Eh…?”
Mikoto: “Have you forgotten? Weren’t you the one who told me to leave you alone?”
Charlotte: “But, I…”
Mikoto’s gaze drops to Charlotte’s ring finger.
Mikoto: “Did you come here to flaunt it? That ring she gave you?”
Charlotte: “It’s not like that…”
Mikoto: “…I’m not giving up. Not me.”
Who on earth was this “Mikoto” woman.
She couldn’t even picture herself saying any of this out loud.
“Sorry, but… what even is this?”
“A hundred percent Touko’s own fantasy, but I doubt there’s a script better designed to provoke the enemy than this one.”
“Right. That tracks.”
Shandy, more flushed than usual, had already fully slipped into character, playing a timid, meek new hire — starting with her expression, then her tone of voice, then even a slightly pigeon-toed stance.
“Per the setup, the two of us have already ended things. I’m supposedly moving toward a new love, while Mikoto is fixated on her ex, pressing the attack.”
“Yes. Whoever steps in to interrupt this performance is, by definition, someone who doesn’t want the two of you back together. In all likelihood, someone connected to Chesha.”
“There’s absolutely no way something this ridiculous is going to work! I’m not even an actress!”
Neither of them so much as registered her desperate protest. It looked, to anyone watching from outside, like a plan doomed to collapse the moment it started — and yet both these brilliant women kept their eyes fixed on the script with dead-serious expressions.
“…Then let’s play her as thoroughly, hopelessly indecisive. Torn between her current lover and her ex — that ought to draw the enemy’s attention all the more.”
“The one condition is that we generate plenty of witnesses. If the rumour spreads through the office, even a piece of pure farce like this will start to feel real.”
“Wait! You’re doing this in front of a crowd!? There’s absolutely no way—”
“A theatrical piece of farce, drawing even the employee-audience into the story itself. Precisely.”
“Yes. The more extreme the two of you play it, the more excited the audience gets. Rumours spread, get exaggerated with every retelling, and the enemy is forced to take the risk of moving, just to confirm whether the rumour’s true. From there, all that’s left is waiting for them to expose themselves.”
“And if a suspicious person turns up?”
“We’ll conduct torture — no, an individual interview.”
“Fufu, this is getting genuinely exciting, isn’t it, Mikoto?”
Throwing the script down, Mikoto sank onto the cold concrete floor. There was no way this could work. However she looked at it, there was no way she could actually pull this off.
The “Mikoto” written in this script was, whichever way you read it, a fiercely strong-willed woman, chasing after someone and cornering them. Nothing at all like the real Mikoto.
“C-couldn’t it be at least a little more like me? Kurosu Mikoto wouldn’t say things like this.”
“Apparently the role was written specifically for you. This must simply be how the author sees you.”
“Something’s wrong with Touko-san!?”
“Personally, I quite like a strong, aggressive type. Though I also enjoy breaking someone like that down.”
“No, no! Absolutely not! I can’t!”
“Don’t you want to marry me…?”
Making a meek, upturned-eyed expression, Shandy-turned-Charlotte pressed in, playing coy. The exact opposite of everything so far. All this time, Shandy had been the one stirring Mikoto up — and now, apparently, it was Mikoto’s turn to stir Shandy up in return.
An impossible demand. There was no way she could pull off farce like this in public. She could barely make eye contact without bursting into ridiculous laughter as it was.
“That’s a completely different matter! Even if the plan somehow works, whether Chesha actually gives up is a separate question entirely!”
“What good does giving up before even trying accomplish? If you give up right there—”
“Leave Anzai-sensei out of this! Sanae-san, use your head a little more!”
“I am.”
Sanae said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, without a hint of a smile. As always, the way brilliant minds think was utterly beyond her. She wanted to say this whole plan working at all was itself insane — but faced with that earnest expression, Mikoto almost felt like the one in the wrong.
“There’s no time left. Charlotte, please take your position.”
“Yes, let’s give this dull old office a bit of entertainment. I’ll be waiting at my desk in General Affairs, Mikoto-san.”
Leaving behind a warm, Michelle-like smile, Charlotte headed back to the office.
However many times Mikoto tried to stop it, it was like pushing against a curtain. In the end, all she could do was cram the day’s portion of script into her head and transform, on the spot, into a makeshift, high-strung career woman.
“You’re serious…?”
“It’s Touko’s script, so there’s no problem.”
Against Sanae’s proud, nostril-flaring enthusiasm, Mikoto’s anxiety only kept piling higher.
There was no way a stunt this ridiculous could possibly work. On top of that, she’d have to tear down the entire image of herself she’d painstakingly built up at Hibiya, just to play a part.
She’d absolutely become impossible to work alongside after this.
But without performing, there was no way to fight Chesha.
“Let’s clear the suspicion hanging over you, Mikoto-san.”
On top of everything, Mikoto was also under suspicion of embezzlement. Between this and the whole incident where she’d been framed as an industrial spy over a stolen proposal, why on earth did she keep getting saddled with crimes she hadn’t committed?
“Guess I have no choice…”
Forcing her leaden body up, she resolved to follow the script’s version of Kurosu Mikoto to the letter.
All Mikoto could do right now was trust in Touko’s unhinged sensibility.
The woman who’d shown up in General Affairs was one that Madam Ashiya was personally, and specially, taking an interest in.
Her name: Charlotte Gabriel.
I hadn’t been told the full details, but for whatever reason, Madam Ashiya wanted this woman kept close by her side. And unlike the rest of us women — myself included — kept like collared pets on display, this looked different.
She was seriously considering a real relationship. Trying to put her in the position of proper wife, a position none of us had ever managed to reach.
—Why couldn’t it have been me?
Watching her greet everyone with a warm smile, in fluent Japanese, all I felt was a crushing sense of defeat and jealousy.
I’d changed jobs for Madam Ashiya’s sake. Changed my hairstyle, my makeup, my whole appearance, however slightly, for her sake. All of it, because I wanted her love, wanted to become a woman worthy of her love — and to do it, I threw away everything I’d built up until now. Threw away the life of Nishimura Sawa. Reinvented myself entirely.
As Nishimura Sawa, I could never earn Madam Ashiya’s love.
“Please look after me, Nishimura-senpai. Feel free to call me Shirley.”
Which is exactly why that woman’s oblivious, innocent smile made me furious.
The crushing defeat she made me feel. The way she’d wrecked our plans. And above all, the simple unbearable fact that she alone had been chosen by Madam Ashiya.
“Is something wrong? Perhaps you’re nervous, dealing with a foreigner…?”
Even so, I couldn’t let my anger show.
My orders were clear: introduce this shameless woman to Madam Ashiya. Unless I tied back together this frayed, snapped red thread of fate, I’d never earn her love.
“Maybe. Guess I got a little dazzled.”
“Um… how embarrassing…”
Textbook coyness, the kind you’d only see drawn in a manga. Losing out to a woman this shallow, blushing over such an obvious, transparent compliment. My blood boiled like flame, and yet my chest ached like it might burst into tears at any moment.
However much I longed for Madam Ashiya, she would never come to me. And now, with even that faint, sliver of hope crushed out, the passion and ulterior motive that had kept my mission running like precision gears together began grinding, out of sync.
“Well then, let’s start with a simple OJT. First, how to operate Secure, and inputting your attendance record—”
“Ah…”
Charlotte’s attention had drifted elsewhere entirely. Ignoring me, was she. I glared, ready to consider murder, when I noticed something off. The General Affairs office, usually filled with idle chatter and background noise, had gone eerily silent.
Following the direction of everyone’s stares, I spotted a tall woman — the one rumoured to be Madam Ashiya’s romantic rival, Kurosu Mikoto of the Planning Division.
Her expression was hard. Her stride was wide, heels clacking sharply on the floor with none of the usual restraint expected of someone from another department, bearing straight down on us.
Angry? If so, about what?
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The moment she reached Charlotte and me, Kurosu Mikoto delivered the line. Her face was flushed bright red, her voice cracking with strain. Like a woman who’d finally reached the end of her patience.
Charlotte’s eyes darted around nervously. Scanning the crowd, none of the many onlookers said a word — just watched, silently, as the whole scene between the new hire and the Planning Division employee unfolded.
“Have you forgotten? Weren’t you the one who told me to leave you alone?”
Charlotte seemed overwhelmed. As Mikoto closed the distance, Charlotte stumbled back against a desk.
She must have been genuinely furious, because Mikoto’s face had turned bright red, her gaze completely unfocused.
But wasn’t this supposed to be a woman who never displayed hysterics like this?
“But, I…”
Charlotte’s answer came out weak and faltering. Instantly, Mikoto grabbed roughly at her left wrist. Glinting on her ring finger was a slim ring. Presumably the platinum promise ring Madam Ashiya had reportedly given her once. The ultimate proof of devotion I could never wear myself, no matter how badly I wished for it.
“Did you come here to flaunt it? That ring she gave you?”
“It’s not like that…”
Shaking her wrist free, Mikoto’s eyebrows shot up. Her voice was quiet enough that only those standing nearby could hear it, but more than enough information to make the situation perfectly clear.
“…I’m not giving up. Not me.”
So the relationship between Charlotte and Mikoto had apparently ended.
And yet Mikoto showed no sign whatsoever of giving up. She seemed almost desperate, determined to reclaim Charlotte.
—Is this actually real?
“Um… anyway, this is drawing attention, so…”
Hardly an ideal situation. If too much attention gathered around the key figures involved in Madam Ashiya’s plan, our own movements would become far harder. Trying, at least, to smooth this particular scene over, I stepped in to restrain Mikoto — right as a shrill, grating voice rang out across the office.
“Oh myyy. What’s wrong, Mī-chan? Your face is all red~”
A fellow new hire from the Secretary Division, Akazawa Kuto. Her supervisor was secretly supporting Madam Ashiya, and Kuto was a subordinate who followed instructions faithfully. Within this particular scene, someone reasonably trustworthy, at least.
“Wanna go grab a Starbucks or something~?”
“…Shut up.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that~”
“I said shut up!”
A dry, sharp crack tore through the office silence. Once the shriek from a handful of female employees died down, Kuto lay sprawled on the floor, hand clutching her cheek, while Mikoto stood over her, breathing hard.
An act of violence utterly unlike anything one would expect from Kurosu Mikoto.
Everything I’d heard about Kurosu Kotone’s older sister painted a picture of a gentle, thoughtful, indecisive beauty. And yet here she stood, hysterical, possessive, entirely self-centred. That famously beautiful face was twisted with rage, her makeup even looking somewhat smudged.
“…I get how you feel, but there’s no need to hit her~…”
Ignoring Kuto’s trembling voice entirely, Mikoto shot one last glance at Charlotte, then cut straight through the crowd of gossip-hungry General Affairs staff and walked out.
For the time being, the situation had settled. Every coworker returning to their duties wore some flicker of unease on their face. Presumably firing off internal chat messages by way of small talk, since the sound of typing had risen noticeably louder than usual.
“Um… I…”
I didn’t feel like comforting the visibly frightened Charlotte. The violent scene we’d just witnessed was, surely, the product of this woman’s own habitual wishy-washy behaviour. If anything, she was the root cause of my own misfortune.
More important than that, though.
What Nishimura Sawa needed to do now was grasp the full situation.
The fact that Charlotte had suddenly joined the company was, almost certainly, engineered by the faction opposing Madam Ashiya — the Special Missions Office.
But to what end?
What exactly was Yanase Sanae thinking?
What did Kurosu Mikoto’s violent outburst actually mean?
Was all of it connected?
Or were these entirely unrelated incidents?
I needed to find out. I needed to gather information.
For Madam Ashiya’s love. Even knowing it was a love that could never be requited.
“Hey, Akazawa. You said ‘I get how you feel’ just now, didn’t you? Why?”
Leaving Charlotte where she stood, I lifted Kuto up by the shoulders from where she lay on the floor. Holding her, heavy with perfume, until her trembling subsided, a nearly-inaudible whisper reached my ears.
“…Mī-chan’s going through a rough time right now, apparently.”
Kuto had some kind of information. And, on top of that, she belonged to the Secretary Division — one of us. Unconnected to Madam Ashiya, but worth bringing onto my side.
To reach out to her supervisor, Mochida Latifa, I decided to contact her using a personal phone untraceable through Secure.
“There was really no need to actually hit her, was there?”
“But it was written in the script!”
In a stall in the women’s toilets, Mikoto kept banging her head against the wall, over and over. Performing a piece of farce in front of the entire office was mortifying enough to set her face on fire, and by now the entire building was buzzing with gossip about Mikoto’s violent outburst.
In the group LINE chat Sanae had set up, a barrage of furious stickers from Kuto flooded in one after another, and Mikoto could do nothing but grovel in apology. Never again would she attempt something so far outside her comfort zone. Though, admittedly, remembering the treatment she’d received from Kuto earlier gave her a small, guilty flicker of satisfaction.
“The internal chat is buzzing entirely about Mikoto-san. About as clear an example of stealing a salary as it gets.”
Sanae was in a position to monitor every internal chat exchange across the company. Watching the rumour balloon further and further with every retelling, she continued, reporting that things were going well.
“Any employee actively enjoying the internal chat gossip clearly isn’t factoring in the risk that I’m monitoring it. We can consider them cleared. That alone eliminates roughly ten percent of the workforce from suspicion.”
Hibiya Group employed roughly eighty thousand people. Which meant this whole embarrassing spectacle had reached the ears of nearly eight thousand of them.
Mikoto banged her head against the wall harder still.
“Also, one suspicious woman. Nishimura Sawa, from General Affairs. She approached me directly. Want me to sort her out right away?”
Nishimura Sawa. The employee who’d been in charge of Shandy’s OJT during that mortifying incident. Mikoto had no impression of her at all, beyond an unremarkable, entirely ordinary office worker.
“Let her run a little longer. Kuto, please leak the false information exactly as scripted.”
“What are you planning to do?”
The question, typed out with fingers that didn’t want to move, marked as read almost instantly.
“A battle of wits against the Cheshire Cat.”
There was, apparently, no gentle resolution left to reach for. For the sake of clearing her own name, and for Shandy’s sake, this wasn’t something she could simply abandon.
Hesitating a moment, Mikoto steeled herself. Slowly, she typed out her reply.
“Let’s win this.”
All of it, for the future. Walking back to her own office, chin up despite herself, letting the role settle into her body all over again, Mikoto returned to her post.