Our Life That Begins with a Convenient Relationship - Chapter 1

When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. Well, to be precise, it was a ceiling that felt “unfamiliar but somehow known.”

The wallpaper looked cheap and glossy. A pale pink light, embedded in the corner of the ceiling, was still turned on. I could hear the low hum of an air purifier and catch the faint, sugary scent of an air freshener.

Ah, I see. I was in a love hotel.

The moment I remembered that, what hit me wasn’t a cold sweat—it was a dull pain shooting through my entire body.

“…Ouch…”

I groaned softly and put my hand on my neck. A slow, aching pain spread from my back to my waist and down to my thighs. It felt heavy and stiff. This was definitely because of what happened last night.

As I shifted my body, I heard the sound of steady breathing. Of course, it wasn’t mine. I was already awake.

Timidly, I looked at the spot next to me. There, a young woman in a suit was wrapped in the blankets, sleeping comfortably.

She is a regular customer who has been coming to the shop for a few years now. She eats, drinks, always pays generously, and then goes home. Her face isn’t particularly flashy, but it’s strangely memorable. She is much younger than me. As for her name, I don’t know it.

“…Oh, right. This person was here too.”

I started to put my head in my hands under the covers, but the pain was so bad I could barely move. Rubbing my shoulder, I stared blankly down at her.

Her sleeping face looked so defenseless. She looked exhausted from work, yet she also seemed completely at peace. Looking at her, I felt a little hesitant to wake her up.

…No, no, this is no time to be sentimental. I need to get her to wake up soon.

From atop the blankets, I gently reached out toward her shoulder.

How did things end up like this? The story goes back to yesterday—

My name is Kyoko Sakurai. My mornings aren’t exactly early.

Actually, I think they are rather late.

The izakaya where I work doesn’t open until just before noon. Because of that, I have much more free time in the morning than most people. However, it’s also true that I often get careless and waste that time doing nothing.

Even though I call it my “workplace,” I’m not a full-time employee; I’m just a part-time worker. Plus, in a few months, I’ll be thirty-seven… It feels a bit heavy when I see it written out. Why do numbers have to force reality on you like that?

After finishing the laundry, I walked out the front door as sluggishly as usual to find a beautiful, clear sky. Squinting against the sunlight pouring down from above, I stretched both arms high toward the sky.

“Yaaaawn… Mmgh… Ow, ow, ow.”

The muscles from my shoulders to my back let out a sharp “pop.” This never happened in my twenties, but now my body screams at me almost every day.

Ever since I turned thirty, I’ve noticed more and more moments where I can’t ignore the changes in my body. If I try to stay up all night, I can’t get rid of the fatigue even if I sleep for a whole day. If I eat just a little too much, my stomach feels heavy. I can’t push myself anymore. If I do, it lingers not just the next day, but the day after that too.

“If I stay single like this until I’m forty or fifty, what’s going to happen to me?”

My muttered words melted into the quiet morning of the empty residential street.

But there’s no way to find an answer. There’s no way to know the future. If I had known, I’m sure I would have lived a slightly better life.

Still, this is the life I chose. Even if people tell me not to regret it now, I don’t really plan to. It’s not like I’m thinking, “I wish I could go back to my student days and start over.”

While walking and thinking about these things, the phone in my pocket vibrated. I had a bad feeling. The moment I took it out and looked at the screen, my face cramped up.

“…Ugh.”

The word “Mother” was displayed on the screen.

When she calls at this time, there is only one possible reason. It doesn’t happen every single day, but it’s been repeating for over ten years, so I know exactly what it is.

If I could, I’d ignore it. But if I ignore it, things just get more annoying later. In other words, it’s a hassle whether I answer or not. If that’s the case, it might be better to just take the call from the start.

I took a deep breath and tapped the call button.

“H-hello?”

“Kyoko! Have you still not found someone to marry?! It’s not like you don’t meet people at work!”

…I knew it.

My mother’s opening line is the same every time, like someone pressing “play” on a tape recorder. It drains my energy to even reply.

“I told you, no one is interested in a part-timer who is almost thirty-seven.”

“You say that every time! Then why didn’t you pick that man I introduced to you the other day?!”

Just as I expected, she brought that up again.

A while ago, my mother insisted, “Just once! Please!” She pushed me until I reluctantly agreed to a matchmaking meeting with the son of one of her acquaintances.

He was two years younger than me and worked for a major company. On paper, there was nothing to complain about. His face wasn’t bad, either. But when we talked, there was nothing to him. His answers were like templates, and he didn’t seem to think deeply about anything I said. It felt like his heart wasn’t in it—just like mine.

The worst part was the way he looked at me. Between parts of the conversation, he would glance at me as if he were licking me with his eyes. In that moment, a chill ran down my spine and I got goosebumps all over.

That alone was a deal-breaker. No matter how good the “conditions” were, I just couldn’t stand him.

“…Um, we just didn’t click.”

“Good grief… Fine, I’ll look for someone nice in the neighborhood next time, so email me your free days again.”

“What?”

My voice cracked.

Who was the one who said it would only be “just once”?

I learned yet again that when my mother says “just once,” it’s code for “this is never going to end after one time.”

My mother’s obsession with marriage gets stronger every year. I’m sure her desire to see a grandchild and her “sense of responsibility as a parent” are all mixed together, and she can’t stop herself anymore.

Well… I suppose it can’t be helped that she worries about me being a part-timer at this age without a permanent job. But marriage, I guess people think I need to get married just so someone can support me because I’m like this.

“Ah, sorry, it’s time for work. Talk to you later.”

I said that and tried to hang up.

“What? Hey, Kyoko! ———”

The last thing I heard was my mother’s angry voice. Even after the call cut off with a click, her voice echoed in my ears for a while.

I turned off my phone and put it back in my pocket. My mood sank, as if a heavy stone had dropped into my heart.

I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. The bright blue sky should have been beautiful, but my heart didn’t clear up.

“Romantic feelings… I don’t really understand them. Much less marriage.”

I gave a bitter smile at my own whispered words.

If I understood those things, my mother probably wouldn’t have to scold me like this.

With a small sigh, I walked toward my workplace like I do every day.