Chapter 3
The next morning.
When I opened my eyes, Hanamori's face was right in front of mine.
She was sleeping so close I could feel her breath on my skin.
...Wait, what? Why?
I was certain we'd gone to sleep facing away from each other last night, yet somehow we'd turned to face each other while sleeping.
Hanamori's sleeping face was mere inches away.
Her long eyelashes.
Her slightly parted lips.
Her steady, quiet breathing.
It was a completely defenseless expression, nothing like the calculated faces she put on at work.
My gaze naturally drifted downward.
The pale nape of her neck.
The delicate line of her collarbones.
The fair, soft-looking skin peeking out from the camisole hugging her slender frame.
Her smooth, shapely thighs extending from her shorts.
Her soft chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm with her breath.
My heart gave a sudden, violent thud.
No, no, no! Why am I staring at her like some total creep? Am I a pervert or what?!
Just as I snapped out of it and tried to tear my eyes away toward the ceiling, Hanamori's lips twitched slightly.
"Mmm..."
It was a faint murmur.
Crap. She's waking up. Panicking, I tried to avert my eyes, but it was too late. Hanamori's eyelids slowly fluttered open, her drowsy gaze locking right onto mine.
A few seconds of dead silence passed.
Our faces were way too close.
"...Huh?"
"Ah..."
Our voices overlapped.
Hanamori's eyes widened in realization.
"..."
Her face flushed bright red in an instant.
Yet she didn't move. I couldn't move either, frozen in place as we stared at each other at point-blank range.
Hanamori's trembling lips parted.
"...Asami-san."
"Y-Yeah?"
"Why are you staring at my sleeping face?"
Her voice was quiet, but crystal clear.
"I wasn't staring."
"You totally were."
"I was not."
Hanamori gave me a dubious, flat-eyed glare.
"What are you, some dirty old man?"
"I'm not an old man."
"So you admit you're dirty?"
"I am not dirty!"
"Then why were you staring?"
Hanamori flashed a slightly mischievous smirk.
Though her ears were beet red.
"...I just rolled over and happened to end up facing you, okay?"
"Liar."
Hanamori let out a soft sigh and sat up. I hurriedly scrambled up right after her.
We backed away to opposite corners of the cramped booth, putting as much distance between us as possible.
It was infuriating being treated like a perverted creep and taking her smart mouth.
And yet, for some reason, my pounding heart just wouldn't quiet down.
＊＊＊
By the time we settled the bill and stepped out of the internet cafe, morning light had already broken.
The crisp air of Sunday morning filled my lungs.
"Well, I head this way."
Hanamori pointed toward the station.
"Right. Get home safe."
She gave a small wave, and I waved back.
Her figure gradually melted into the morning chill. It was just our usual casual parting, nothing special about it. So why... why did I have this strange, restless feeling fluttering deep in my chest?
We were just returning to our ordinary daily routine. That was all. And yet...
＊＊＊
Monday morning. When I arrived at work, Hanamori was already there.
Her makeup was immaculate, paired with a feminine white blouse and a stylish mermaid skirt. Her hair was neatly curled and styled in an elegant half-updo. She was chatting up the male coworkers with her usual sugary smile and honeyed, cooing voice.
It was the same old Hanamori. Heading to my desk, I booted up my computer. But I couldn't help catching glimpses of her in the corner of my eye.
Saturday night.
The live house.
The izakaya.
The internet cafe.
And that moment we stared into each other's eyes inches apart.
My face flushed hot just remembering it. God, I'm an idiot. She doesn't care about any of that at all. Hanamori's high-pitched giggles echoed across the room. Sasaki-kun, a second-year sales rep, said something that made her laugh brightly and playfully touch his shoulder.
A prickle of restless irritation stung deep in my chest. What is this feeling?
Just as I was about to check my email—
"Asami-san."
A voice called out, making me jump in my seat. I turned around to find Hanamori standing right there.
"Y-Yes?!"
My voice cracked embarrassingly on the "Yes."
Hanamori tilted her head slightly in puzzlement.
"Could you check the proposal materials for tomorrow's meeting?"
A flat tone, dead eyes, the cold-shoulder treatment. Back to the usual Hanamori.
"...Ah, yeah. Got it."
"Thank you. I'll email them to you later."
Hanamori turned on her heel to leave.
"About Saturday."
Hearing her quiet voice, I turned back to see her glancing over her shoulder at me.
"I had fun."
Then, she offered a small smile.
It wasn't a calculated smile. Nor was it a flirtatious, manipulative grin.
It was a genuinely happy, soft expression.
That smile lingered for just a split second before vanishing.
She briskly walked back to her desk. I remained frozen, staring blankly at her retreating back.
My heart thudded violently, almost painfully, against my ribs.
My face was burning.
What is this?
What is this feeling?
Even when I thought about Asakura-san, my heart never reacted like this.
Yet whenever I recalled Hanamori's smile just now, a tight knot squeezed my chest.
I stared at my computer screen, but not a single word registered in my brain. Out of the corner of my eye, Hanamori was talking to someone else again.
Smiling.
Except this time, it was that sweet, manufactured grin. The smile she'd shown me a moment ago was meant for me and me alone. The moment that thought crossed my mind, my chest fluttered all over again. Argh, dammit! What's wrong with me?! She's driving me totally out of sync.
With my hands resting idle on the keyboard, I let out a soft sigh.
＊＊＊
Right from the start of the day, Hanamori's mood was unnaturally low.
Normally, she'd be showering the male staff—especially Tamura-san—with a cheerful, sweet "Good mornin'~♡", but today she was dead silent.
Like a robot with a drained battery, she sat at her desk diagonally opposite mine, staring vacantly at her documents.
Even her makeup couldn't fully conceal the dark circles under her eyes.
"You okay?"
"...Yes."
When I called out to her, her response lacked any trace of energy. She looked utterly exhausted.
She must have stayed late last night. She'd been scrambling around with urgent file revisions, client correspondence, and coordinating with other departments.
Even though I had my hands full with another project, I'd asked her yesterday evening, "Need a hand?"
"I'm fine."
She had turned me down with unusual firmness. And when I left for the day, she was still glued to her computer. Seeing her state this morning, it was clear she'd pushed herself way too hard. Normally she'd put up a tough front to play it off, but today she didn't even have the energy for that.
At ten in the morning, that woman made her entrance.
"Hanamori-san, do you have a moment?"
Section Chief Miyashita of Sales Administration. A woman in her late forties with an imposing build and retro makeup that belonged in another decade.
Breathing heavily in agitation, she marched toward Hanamori with heavy, thudding footsteps.
She possessed a notorious nickname behind her back.
"The Empress of Newbie Crushing."
It sounded like the moniker of a bounty-headed pirate.
Her rookie-hazing was infamous; she held a track record of driving three new hires to quit since I'd joined the company. As if hunting for prey, she targeted a new female recruit every single year, regardless of whether they were in her department. If someone rubbed her the wrong way, she'd nitpick flaws and lecture them relentlessly. And whether by bad luck or fate, this year's target was Hanamori.
Ah... Here we go again.
I let out a mental groan.
"These documents from yesterday. Did you even double-check the scheduled delivery date? It's off by a whole day!"
"U-Um... I did check it..."
"Then why is it wrong?! The client called us furious, asking what kind of management system our company is running!"
The section chief's shrill voice echoed across the entire office floor. Hanamori's shoulders flinched.
"'Checked it'? How?! By giving the screen a half-second glance? Back when I was a rookie, we got chewed out if we didn't print out every single page and proofread line-by-line with a red pen! Haah, kids these days have it so easy!"
The surrounding employees glanced up for a brief second before immediately gluing their eyes back to their monitors, a silent pact to pretend they saw nothing.
"I had to answer the phone and apologize to an angry client first thing this morning! You left yesterday before your work was even finished, didn't you?! That's what happens when you rush out the door! Messing up the delivery date—can't you even read a calendar?! Or are you only paying attention to your weekend date plans?! This client is worth thirty million yen a year! Do you have any idea how many times that is your annual salary?!"
Section Chief Miyashita slammed her hand on Hanamori's desk over and over, piling on one accusation after another.
She always claimed this was "for the young staff's own good" and "an opportunity for growth." But in reality, it was nothing more than a public execution.
"And this estimate is still using the old version! How could you not notice?! Do you actually possess any awareness of what it means to be a working adult?!"
"...I am deeply sorry."
"Honestly, girls like you only care about appearances and have zero substance underneath. That vanity leaks right into your work!"
Hanamori's face turned deathly pale, her voice trembling.
A wave of disgust began rising in my chest.
Section Chief Miyashita huffed louder, launching into yet another tirade.
"And another thing—yesterday when you returned from lunch break, you took the elevator, didn't you?! For just the third floor! When I was a rookie, taking the elevator when superiors were around made me feel so guilty I'd sprint up the stairs! Kids nowadays have no grit whatsoever. That's why you all quit your jobs so easily!"
The nagging drifted off into completely irrelevant grievances. The atmosphere in the office froze solid. Yet no one moved. No one stepped in to help.
Even Tamura-san had his earphones in, pretending to be oblivious. His entire body language screamed, I see nothing, I hear nothing.
My heart pounded in my chest. Normally, I wouldn't get involved either. I'd mind my own business and wait for it to blow over.
But today... something was different.
Sure, she was a calculated, man-flirting girl who ran her mouth with cheeky remarks, but I knew she was trying her hardest in her own way.
And right now, all her effort was being trampled on, crushing her in front of everyone.
(...God, this pisses me off.)
Before I even realized it, I was standing up.
"Section Chief."
The room fell dead silent. Only the hum of the air conditioner remained.
"Regarding the delivery date error, I failed to catch it during my review as well. I share the responsibility for this oversight. I'll work with Hanamori-san immediately to fix it."
"...Asami-san? But this is her own—"
"Yes, it was undeniably a mistake. But is it really necessary to shout at her in front of the entire office?"
The air chilled further. The section chief's eyes narrowed.
"...What?"
"You could point out a work error in private. Doing it like this isn't guidance—it's making a public spectacle out of her."
The words spilled right out of my mouth. A chill ran down my spine the instant I said it, but I couldn't stop myself now.
"Besides, saying things like 'she only cares about appearances and has no substance' or 'she has no grit'—what does attacking her personality have to do with correcting a mistake?"
The section chief's expression stiffened instantly.
"Pointing out a work error is completely different from attacking someone's dignity. You do not have the right to attack Hanamori-san's character, Section Chief."
Section Chief Miyashita's face turned bright red, like a tomato overripening in fast-forward.
Even so, my mouth kept moving of its own accord.
"And that goes for everyone in Sales, too."
I looked around the room. Everyone was staring at their desks, refusing to meet my eyes. What, are you guys hunting for stains on the carpet?
"Why didn't any of you step in? She's a rookie. You could all see she was on the verge of tears."
A heavy silence blanketed the dozens of people filling the office floor.
The overripe tomato—Section Chief Miyashita—gasped softly, scoffing with a bitter snort.
"...Asami-san, aren't you getting a little too emotional?"
"I'm completely calm. You're the one being emotional, Section Chief."
I was so eerily calm it scared even myself.
Silence fell once more.
Then, Hanamori bowed her head slightly.
"...I am very sorry."
The section chief spat out a curt "Whatever," marching back to her desk with loud, heavy thuds.
As if collective sighs of relief echoed around the room, the tense atmosphere finally relaxed. People began breathing again.
Snapping back to reality, my legs gave out and I slumped into my chair. My hands were trembling violently.
(Ughhh... What did I just do...?!)
As I clutched my head in pale horror, I felt someone watching me.
Looking up, my eyes met Hanamori's. She wore an awkward expression, trying to force a smile. But it was a fragile, bittersweet smile—as if she was fighting back tears while forcing the corners of her mouth upward...
My heart skipped a tiny beat.
Taking a sip of coffee to calm my nerves, I exhaled a long, heavy breath.
＊＊＊
That afternoon during client visits, Hanamori sat in the passenger seat of our company car, unsettlingly quiet.
Only the engine hum and the air conditioner filled the quiet cabin.
Her hands rested in her lap as she kept her head lowered. Looking at her profile reflected in the window glass, the shadows cast by her long eyelashes seemed deeper than usual.
Normally, Hanamori would be slouched in the passenger seat scrolling through social media on her phone, whining, "Are we there yet~?" Today, though, she looked like a scolding-struck puppy drooping its ears.
(...Honestly, this is creepier.)
The moment I pulled into the client's parking lot and stopped the car, Hanamori murmured in a faint voice.
"...Thank you for earlier."
Her tone was unusually stiff.
"Don't worry about it. It was no big deal."
And I truly meant that. The section chief was being completely unreasonable, so I just chimed in a bit.
Though Section Chief Miyashita's face afterward had been pretty terrifying. Okay, honestly, terrifying as hell.
"No... You really saved me."
She said just that and lapsed back into silence, head still lowered. An awkward stillness hung between us.
Hanamori rummaged through her bag and pulled something out.
"Here. As a small thank-you."
She held out a can of black coffee.
As I reached out to take it, our fingertips brushed lightly for a fraction of a second.
"Thanks. You really didn't need to do that."
"I just don't like owing people favors."
Always gotta get a sassy word in, huh? I let out a faint chuckle. The can was still slightly warm.
After a short pause, I quietly muttered,
"About the section chief earlier. I didn't intend to blow up like that, but watching her made my blood boil. The words just came out on their own."
Hanamori glanced up at me. It wasn't her usual fake smile. The look deep in her eyes was soft, as if her tension had melted away just a tiny bit.
"Anyone would hate getting screamed at in front of the whole office like that."
"Yeah. It was seriously a public execution."
Hanamori offered a small laugh, though her eyes remained somber.
"It was sickening just watching it. Felt like I was getting yelled at too."
Hanamori looked down again. Her profile through the bangs over her forehead seemed quieter than usual.
"I'm... really not cut out for sales. Or for working in general."
"...Why would you think that?"
"My sales numbers aren't growing at all. I make mistake after mistake. What the section chief said about me having 'no grit' and being 'all appearances with zero substance'... she was completely right."
She tried to play it off like a joke, but her eyes held no humor. None of her usual flippancy remained—only a quiet, resigned voice.
(...I didn't know Hanamori could make a face like that.)
I wanted to comfort her, but no words would come out. My mind went blank, and before I realized what I was doing, my hand moved on its own. Gently placing my hand on her head, I stroked her soft hair just a little.
"...Huh?"
Hanamori froze completely, her eyes wide as she stared straight at me.
"I know you're trying your best."
Those were the only words I managed to squeeze out in my urgency to say something.
"...Eh... Ah..."
Hanamori's face flushed crimson in seconds. Her eyes darted around erratically, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
"W-What are you doing?!"
"Huh? Encouraging you."
"Patting my head...? This isn't some shojo manga!"
Even as she grumbled, pushing my hand off her head and giving me a glare, her cheeks twitched self-consciously.
The deep blush extending all the way to her ears was strangely adorable.
I couldn't help letting out a laugh.
"...You shouldn't do things like that to someone unless you actually like them."
"Huh?"
"People will get the wrong idea."
Hanamori averted her eyes, her quiet voice barely audible from her profile—yet I heard every word clearly.
My heart gave a strange, irregular thud. Not knowing how to respond, I popped open the tab on the coffee can, took a sip, and changed the subject.
"Anyway, don't worry about the section chief. Yelling at people is basically her hobby."
"I usually forget bad stuff after a good night's sleep, so I'm fine."
"Figures. Well, good to hear."
"...Though I was a bit disappointed Tamura-san didn't help me out."
"Wait, that's what bothered you?"
"Yeah. I kind of thought he was the type who'd protect a girl in a situation like that~ But he didn't do a thing! ...Turns out he's pretty coldhearted."
"...Yeah, Tamura-san definitely just watched from a safe distance."
"Right?! He popped his earphones in and pretended he couldn't hear a thing."
"Yep. Total cop-out."
We both burst out laughing together. The tense air inside the car dissolved into warmth.
"...Alright, shall we head in?"
"Yes."
Hanamori grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car, her usual stride restored.
"...Asami-san."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for today. Really."
With that, she averted her eyes and looked down again—only this time, a bright, relieved smile lit up her face.
"You're welcome."
I offered a curt response, and together we walked toward the client's office.
＊＊＊
By the time we returned to the office after our meeting, Hanamori was back to her usual full-fledged performance.
"Tamura-saaan, that tie looks so stylish on you~♡"
Her sugary voice cooed from over by the copier. The crestfallen girl from earlier was nowhere to be found.
"Really? I just grabbed it without thinking."
"Oh, stop it~ You honestly have such amazing taste~♡"
As Tamura-san replied with a bashful grin, Hanamori beamed with a sweet smile, turning her eyes upward and pouting her lips flirtatiously.
(...Ah, she's back to normal. Thank goodness. ...............Wait? Thank goodness?)
What did I just feel relieved about?
That calculated-cute Hanamori came back? When I used to find it so annoying?
Isn't that totally weird if you actually think about it?
Yet for some reason, the sensation of stroking her hair lingered in my hand—soft, and faintly warm.
Returning to my desk, I opened my laptop. As I checked my email, our conversation in the car flashed through my head.
"People will get the wrong idea."
Get the wrong idea about what? And who?
Taking a sip of black coffee, I exhaled a quiet breath.
Catching sight of Section Chief Miyashita thudding down the hallway, I hurriedly pretended to be deeply absorbed in my emails to avoid eye contact.
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