Today was December 25th. Christmas Day.
Although yesterday’s blizzard had ruined Christmas Eve, the snow had stopped today, and the city’s festive atmosphere remained thick.
“Kiryu-kun, are you leaving?”
Tanaka Kenji, still buried in writing medical records, looked up in surprise at Kiryu Kazusuke, who had already changed into casual clothes.
“Yeah. I’m done with everything.”
Kiryu Kazusuke put on a dark black wool overcoat and wrapped a scarf around his neck.
“I’m so jealous…”
Tanaka Kenji looked at the mountain of documents on his desk and let out a wail.
“You should head back early too. It’s Christmas today.”
“I want to, but Associate Professor Mizutani told me to finish organizing all this data…”
“Then good luck.”
Kiryu Kazusuke patted his shoulder and said nothing more.
Refusal was a skill, and also a privilege.
Truth be told, he had finished the first draft of that thesis long ago.
Right after that surgery, he had written notes himself, complete with detailed mechanical diagrams explaining the principles. He had even figured out the direction for reference citations.
With just a little polishing and some supplementary data, it would be a full first draft.
Want it?
Sure.
Exchange it for sincerity.
Whether money, position, or some other substantive benefit.
As long as the price was right, nothing was off the table.
He walked out of the hospital building.
The snow on both sides of the street had already been swept to the curbs, piled into small hills.
Store windows were hung with colorful lights and Christmas decorations. A record store was playing Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”
Although the bubble economy had burst, the commercial atmosphere of this day was still going strong.
People needed holidays.
They needed a reason to consume, to indulge, to temporarily forget the constantly falling stock prices and the jobs they might lose at any moment.
Kiryu Kazusuke walked with his hands in his pockets, threading through the crowd.
Today really was a good day.
No on-call duty.
No overtime.
Leaving work on time.
Moreover, after getting trapped in an elevator with Imagawa Ori yesterday, he had triggered a world line convergence, and the system had rewarded him with 10,000 yen.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to splurge on a meal.
Although Maebashi City was a small place, it was backed by mountains, and the pork quality here was extremely high.
Especially that breed called “Joshu Mugi Pork”—the meat was fine-textured, the fat sweet.
He had long had his eye on a yakiniku shop deep in the shopping arcade.
Supposedly, their thick-cut pork belly was absolutely top-tier.
He normally couldn’t bear to go. Today was perfect for treating himself.
Not just to celebrate Christmas, but also to celebrate that he had been given a second chance at life.
Kiryu Kazusuke quickened his pace.
Moving through the lively crowd, his goal was clear.
Meat.
Large amounts of meat.
Sizzling, grease-dripping meat.
On this cold winter night, nothing could comfort the soul more than a steaming hot meal of grilled meat.
If there was, it would be two.
……
This was a small shop hidden in the back alleys of the shopping arcade. A red lantern hung at the entrance.
“Charcoal-Grilled Yakiniku Daifuku”
Pushing open the sliding door, a wave of heat mixed with the aroma of grilled meat rushed to meet him.
The shop was wreathed in smoke and bustling with voices.
Mostly office workers who had just gotten off work, loosening their ties, rolling up their sleeves, drinking in great gulps and eating meat in big bites, venting the day’s stress.
“Welcome! Just one?”
The proprietress wearing a headscarf greeted him enthusiastically.
Kiryu Kazusuke nodded.
Although coming alone to eat yakiniku on a day like Christmas was somewhat incongruous.
But in a shop filled with this kind of down-to-earth, street-level atmosphere, no one would care.
He was seated at a corner spot along the counter.
In front of him was a small charcoal brazier; the iron grill had been heated until it glowed red.
“I’ll start with a draft beer.”
“Two orders of thick-cut Joshu Mugi Pork belly.”
“One order of beef diaphragm.”
“One order of beef tongue.”
“And a large serving of white rice, plus an order of pickles.”
Kiryu Kazusuke finished ordering in one breath and closed the menu.
This feeling of ordering without looking at the prices was truly refreshing.
Soon, the beer arrived first.
The chilled glass was beaded with condensation, topped with thick white foam.
He raised the glass and gulped down a large mouthful; the ice-cold liquid slid down his throat, carrying away all exhaustion.
Refreshing.
Before long, the charcoal brazier was brought over; the red-hot charcoal emitted a comforting heat.
Following closely were plates of raw meat with alluring color.
Red-and-white marbled pork belly, clearly grained beef tongue, thick-cut beef diaphragm.
Kiryu Kazusuke picked up a slice and placed it on the grill.
Sizzle—
Grease dripped onto the charcoal, sending up a small burst of flame. The aroma instantly exploded outward.
The meat slice changed from bright red to brown, the edges slightly charred and curled.
He dipped it in a bit of the shop’s secret yakiniku sauce—made from soy sauce, miso, garlic paste, and apple puree—a perfect balance of salty and sweet.
He put it in his mouth.
The moment his teeth closed, meat juices burst in his mouth.
The charred fragrance of fat mixed with the savory umami of the meat, shooting straight to the crown of his head.
Then he shoveled in a mouthful of steaming white rice.
“Delicious.”
Kiryu Kazusuke narrowed his eyes.
This was what it felt like to be alive.
Just as he was preparing to grill the second slice, the shop door was pulled open again.
A gust of cold wind poured in, accompanied by the chattering voices of several women.
“Wow, it smells so good!”
“I told you this shop was great, right? The location is a bit remote, but the flavor is absolutely authentic!”
“Since the Section Chief recommended it, it definitely can’t be wrong.”
A group of women still wearing uniforms or dark office suits walked in—roughly four or five people.
Kiryu Kazusuke only glanced casually.
Among the group, the one walking at the very back wore a dark blue wool coat, a cream-white scarf around her neck, and carried a briefcase in her hand.
She kept her head down, trying to make herself small, seemingly not wanting to attract anyone’s attention.
Wasn’t that Saionji Mina?
The city hall employee who lived in the neighboring Room 301, possessed of severe violent tendencies and social anxiety.
He hadn’t expected to run into her here.
But it made sense.
Today was Christmas, and a Sunday at that. For single office ladies without dates, dining with colleagues was practically an inescapable obligation.
If she didn’t go, she would be seen as unsociable.
That charge was more serious than poor work ability; it was the prelude to being bullied, isolated, and ostracized.
So, even if she was completely unwilling deep down, even if she only wanted to go home and curl up under the covers watching TV, Saionji Mina had to go along with the group.
“Hey, there’s an empty table here!”
The woman walking at the very front was the one called the Section Chief—around thirty-something, with heavy makeup.
She pointed at the four-person table next to Kiryu Kazusuke.
“It’s just enough seats.”
“Mina-chan, you sit on the inside.”
Saionji Mina was nudged into the seat against the wall.
It was directly diagonally across from Kiryu Kazusuke.
Between the two of them was only a low wooden partition; if they even slightly raised their heads, they would meet eyes.
So the moment Saionji Mina sat down and looked up, she met Kiryu Kazusuke’s gaze.
Her eyes instantly went wide.
Her mouth opened slightly, seemingly wanting to greet him, but she forcibly held it back.
She looked at the colleagues around her, then looked at Kiryu Kazusuke.
In the end, she chose to pretend not to know him, quickly lowering her head and pretending to study the menu on the table.