“Matsuyama-san.”
I, Maho Matsuyama, was in the middle of compiling data at my desk when Yuki-san called out to me from the seat behind.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Could you take these business negotiation materials to the President and check if they’re okay?”
“Eh… me?”
“Come on, you’re on good terms with the President. Every time I talk to him lately, we end up fighting. I want to minimize my opportunities to speak with him as much as possible.”
Why me? I wondered.
I’ve always been the type people push these kinds of roles onto. Maybe I look like I can’t say no.
My daily tasks were already piling up, and yet here was more work.
Well… to be honest, I don’t actually find it that difficult to talk to the President.
He has a sharp, unapproachable aura, but I believe he’s a kind person at his core. His smile is surprisingly gentle.
That gap occasionally makes my heart skip a beat.
Clutching the binder I’d received from Yuki-san, I headed toward the President’s office.
Just as I was about to turn the corner of the hallway…
“…What a coincidence. You really startled me.”
I heard someone speaking near the breakroom. Their voice was hushed, as if they were trying to keep it down.
Ah, it’s Saeko-san.
A beauty with striking, slanted eyes, she wore her dark gray suit with effortless precision. She was terrifyingly competent at her job yet friendly to everyone; I often wondered if she had any flaws at all.
I was about to walk past but then I stopped.
There was someone else facing Saeko-san.
Someone in work clothes. A cleaner, perhaps?
They were standing close, speaking in low voices.
…Wait, is that Yuno-san?
The President’s…
Doing that in the President’s office…
The memory of that scene suddenly flashed back, and I felt my face flush of its own accord.
I had nothing to be ashamed of, yet my body instinctively retreated into the shadow of the corner.
I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but the conversation drifted into my ears.
I knew I should leave, but my feet wouldn’t move.
“That’s why… Yuno, I’m truly sorry about that time.”
“It’s too late for that now. …You’re too late.”
“At the time, I was struggling a bit with work, and I was drunk, or rather…”
Saeko-san’s words came in fragments. Her voice was hesitant, completely different from her usual smooth way of speaking.
Wait, what’s going on?
“Listen, won’t you come back? The house is still exactly as it was when you were there. It’s stayed that way this whole time.”
“………”
“I really feel terrible for hurting you back then. Let’s live together again, okay?”
Saeko-san spoke to Yuno-san in a gentle voice.
After a long silence, Yuno-san’s voice dropped like a heavy stone.
“…I can’t. I can’t trust you anymore, Saeko-san.”
“I’ll never do it again. I truly regret it. …Please, just trust me one more time.”
Silence.
Timidly, I peeked around the corner—
Saeko-san was hugging Yuno-san tightly.
Yuno-san remained stiff, looking bewildered.
“Stop it…”
Eventually, Yuno-san pushed her away.
“I’ll wait forever for your feelings to change. Let’s talk again, okay?”
“…It’s unfair of you to say things like that.”
“Yuno… please.”
After a brief pause, Yuno-san bolted.
Oh no, she’s coming this way. I instinctively pressed myself flat against the wall.
Yuno-san didn’t even glance at me; she simply ran past, her footsteps echoing.
For a split second, I saw her profile—her eyes were red, and she looked as if she were on the verge of tears.
Friday night.
In a secluded booth at an izakaya, I told the President everything I had seen and heard, exactly as it happened.
The President remained silent for a while.
“…Ah, I see.”
That was all. A small response.
He took a cigarette from his pack and put it to his lips. The finger pressing the lighter’s flint—no matter how many times he tried—couldn’t seem to get a spark.
Click, click. With every miss, he seemed to grow slightly more agitated. When the small flame finally ignited, his lips as he inhaled the smoke and the hand resting on the table were trembling slightly.
The President rarely shows emotion.
Because of that, I couldn’t read anything from his expression—but seeing his hand shake made my chest ache.
At the same time, I found myself thinking how beautiful his profile looked as he gazed off into the distance.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about Yuno-san.
If he had remained ignorant, he might have been spared this pain.
As I thought this, I realized that the reason I told him might have been because another feeling was mixed in.
I’m too afraid to apply a word like “hope” to myself, so I can’t think about it clearly.
Everything I told the President about Yuno-san and Saeko-san was the truth.
—However, there is one thing I didn’t tell him.
I think I’m being cowardly.
Perhaps this is my own version of “desperate measures.”
As a professional, failing to provide a complete report is a disqualification.
Even so, “that one thing” was something I simply couldn’t bring myself to tell the President.