Our Life That Begins with a Convenient Relationship - Chapter 3

It is surprising how little I actually know about this woman whose name I still don’t know.

She is about twelve years younger than me. She works for a major corporation, even I know the name of it, and I heard she was promoted to section chief a few months ago. To be a section chief in your mid-twenties is truly amazing. It is incomparable to my life as a part-timer.

“Can I have the usual today?”

Leaning her elbows on the counter, she smiles at me with her usual energy.

“Coming right up! Also, please try the new menu item we added yesterday!”

“Oh, that… Actually, I came up with that dish. I hope you like it.”

“Really?! Well then, that’s definitely going on my list of ‘the usual’ from now on!”

“Thanks. Just a moment.”

Returning her smile, I head to the kitchen to place the order.

In the back of my mind, I try to guess how much her bill will be today. It will surely be more than double what others pay which is expensive by normal standards. But she always pays with a calm face.

I envy the fact that she earns enough, but I’m not jealous. Rather, I honestly respect her and think, “She’s really working hard.” Besides, I’m getting paid for the time I spend looking after her. “Exclusive service”… that sounds a bit suspicious, but I don’t mind the feeling.

When I bring out her first beer and some snacks, she grabs the glass as if she’s been waiting for it and takes a big gulp.

Then, the usual routine begins.

“Sakurai-san, listen to this!”

Her voice gets a little louder, and the storm of complaints starts to fly.

“My manager complained about the document I handed in, saying ‘The font is different than usual!’ It was just an internal document, not for a presentation or an outside client! Why does the font matter?! Besides, I didn’t change it! Actually, the documents he sends me use a different font every time! I wanted to say, ‘Look in a mirror, idiot!’ Don’t you think? Since I gave him the file, he should just change it to whatever font he likes!”

“That sounds tough. There, there.”

When I make a gesture as if lightly patting her head, she pouts her cheeks, but quickly reaches for her food. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done this.

Speaking of fonts… I feel like I was told the same thing many times when writing reports in university, but I’ve completely forgotten about it. Not that I need to remember it now.

Still, I wonder why she doesn’t gain weight even though she eats and drinks this much. Is it the privilege of youth? Or just her body type? Well, once she passes thirty, her metabolism will surely slow down. When that happens, she’ll probably come here with a new complaint like “I’ve gained weight and can’t fit into my suit!” while she continues to eat and drink.

Imagining that future, I find it funny and can’t help but laugh.

“Hey! What are you laughing at, Sakurai-san! I’m being very serious with my venting here!”

“Sorry, sorry… But really, what is a ‘serious’ complaint anyway?”

“Serious is serious! This is a life-or-death issue for me!”

The way she gets all worked up and talks back is like a child, which makes it even funnier. She starts laughing too, and before we know it, we are both laughing quietly together.

These moments of laughing together have somehow become something I look forward to. My heart, which felt heavy from my mother’s phone call, somehow feels lighter just by talking to her.

However, today she seems different.

Usually, she would say, “I’m getting a little drunk,” and slow down her pace. But today, as soon as her glass is empty, she orders another one without stopping.

Naturally, after a while, her voice sounds like that of a completely drunk person. She was answering clearly at first, but now the ends of her words are slurred and dragging.

“Sakurai-shaaan, lishten to meeee, it’s sho annoying…”

Finally, the slurring has started.

I take a sip of my water and respond with a bitter smile.

“Yes, yes, I’m listening, so hurry up and say it.”

At this point, the best thing to do is just let her talk without interrupting too much. She probably won’t remember any of this by the time she goes home anyway. I figured I’d listen to one or two more complaints, then find a good time to call a taxi or walk her to the station.

Just as I am thinking that, unexpected words fly out of her mouth.

“My parentsh keep ashing, ‘Are you married yet?’ I keep telling them I won’t do it, but they’re sho persistent!”

“…Eh?”

I find myself staring at her.

Honestly, I never would have imagined that a woman like her who looks so successful at work and is climbing the ladder of life would have the same worries as me. I thought she was someone who always stood in the light, but surprisingly, we are standing in the same shadow. A feeling of closeness starts to well up from deep inside me.

I put my glass on the table and take a breath.

“I was told the same thing this morning. ‘When are you getting married?’ Honestly, I wish they’d give it a rest.”

“The shame! We’re the shame!”

She happily raises both hands, striking a pose as if asking for a high-five. Pushed by her energy, I laugh and raise my hands to respond. But she must have lost her balance; she misses my hands and falls straight into my chest.

“Wait, hey! Are you okay?”

Feeling her weight, I hurry to support her. The faint scent of her perfume mixed with the smell of alcohol tickles my nose.

“I’m fine, fine! Just a little tired…”

Her voice fades away, and she begins to let out soft sleeping breaths.

“What…? Hey, wake up. Come on, I said wake up.”

I shake her shoulders, but there is no reaction. I pat her lightly, but her eyelids don’t move. It seems she has fallen completely asleep.

“Good grief… this is a problem.”

I can’t just leave her here and go home, and I’m not sure about taking a girl I don’t really know back with me. If I at least knew where her house was, I could put her in a taxi and send her off.

I try to peek into her bag to see if there is an ID, but it is tightly shut with a combination lock. I wonder what kind of important things she’s carrying around.

I briefly consider if there is a wallet in her pockets, but even if we are the same gender, rummaging through someone else’s clothes is out of the question. I shake my head to dismiss the thought.

“Manager, could you…”

“No way.”

Wiping a knife, the manager shrugs her shoulders.

“If I touch her or let her stay the night, I might get sued. Besides, my boyfriend would be mad and think I’m cheating.”

“…Well, that makes sense.”

I have no words for such a perfectly logical reply. I can’t leave her at the shop, so in the end, I have no choice but to take her home with me.

However, my home is a twenty-minute walk away. If I carry her on my back, I will definitely have muscle pain tomorrow. I usually walk everywhere since I don’t get a travel allowance, but this time, I have no choice but to use the train.

“For now, you can pay for her bill next time,” the manager says, glancing my way.

“Since she comes here so often, I’ll let her put it on tab today. There are no other customers anyway, so you can head home now.”

“Thank you. When she wakes up, I’ll make sure to tell her to pay properly.”

I bow deeply, get ready to leave, and carefully lift her onto my back. Her small body is heavier than I imagined; her limp weight presses down hard on my shoulders.

“This is definitely going to cause muscle pain.”

While muttering my complaints, I start walking, balancing so as not to drop her. Because of this, the road to the station feels much longer than usual.

More than that, the warmth from her body against my shoulder makes my heart beat so loudly that I can’t help it.