The clock had only just reached five-thirty in the afternoon, but the sky outside had already gone completely dark.
That was winter for you—the days so short they made one uneasy.
In the Residents’ Affairs Section hall on the first floor of City Hall, the suffocating silence was heavier than the night outside.
The end-of-work bell had already rung.
But no one moved.
In the large office of a full twenty people, there was only the clacking of fingers on keyboards and the rustle of papers being turned.
Yoshino Keiko sat behind her dark-gray steel desk without moving. Who would dare leave?
At that moment, she was holding a red pen and forcefully circling something on a freshly printed document.
Her complexion was terrible; even thick foundation could not hide the dark circles beneath her eyes.
It was not only the aftereffects of a hangover. It was also heartache.
“We did our best, but the stain mixed with sauce and beer has already seeped into the fibers.”
Her favorite Isetan wool coat—even after she had sent it to the most expensive dry cleaner, the clerk had merely shaken his head and apologized.
Smack!
Section Chief Yoshino suddenly slammed the red pen onto the desk.
Everyone shrank their necks and hurriedly lowered their already lowered heads even further.
The pressure in the office had been low all day.
No one wanted to draw the section chief’s attention at a time like this. They only wished they could merge with the dust in the air.
“Saionji!”
Section Chief Yoshino’s shrill voice suddenly rang out.
Everyone immediately let out a silent sigh of relief.
Everyone except Saionji Mina, who was sitting in the corner with her neck tucked in, pretending to check data.
“Y-yes!”
She immediately sprang up from her chair. Because she moved too hastily, her knee knocked against the table leg, hurting so much she nearly teared up, but she did not dare rub it.
“This is the meeting record you made?”
Section Chief Yoshino picked up the stack of documents and hurled it at her without mercy.
The papers scattered. Though they did not cause any real injury, every sheet struck Saionji Mina.
“You can even leave out an ‘Onchu’? Has your brain been eaten by zombies?”
“Or do you think the other party is some casual little company that doesn’t deserve that level of polite language?”
“These are materials for next year’s budget hearing!”
“Are you trying to make the bonuses of everyone in our Residents’ Affairs Section go down the drain?”
Spittle flew from Section Chief Yoshino’s mouth, almost spraying onto her face.
Saionji Mina lowered her head, her hands pressed rigidly against the sides of her thighs.
“I’m terribly sorry! It was my oversight! I’ll fix it right away!”
She bent at the waist in a standard ninety-degree bow, her forehead almost touching the desktop.
She looked like a frightened little quail—pitiful, helpless, able only to let herself be slaughtered.
This dispatched employee, who had been with them for less than half a year, had exactly that sort of personality.
Weak.
Easy to bully.
No matter how badly she was scolded, she would only bow and apologize over and over again, not daring to say a single word in rebuttal.
Saionji Mina stared at the seams between the tiles on the floor.
She felt as though there were a ball of fire burning in her stomach.
It was not an official outgoing document. It was only an internal draft for circulation. All Yoshino had to do was point out the mistake and have her correct it.
Why did she have to throw it in her face?
Why did she have to reprimand her like this in front of everyone?
The ceramic vase placed at the corner of the desk, used to hold those elegant flower arrangements…
She should be able to lift it, right?
She should be able to smash it viciously into this old woman’s face, right?
With such a heavy vase, the blood would probably gush out, wouldn’t it?
“Honestly.”
“Young people these days don’t have the slightest ability to handle pressure.”
“Back in our day, how could we have been so delicate?”
Section Chief Yoshino took a slender ladies’ cigarette from her pack, lit it, inhaled deeply, and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
Smoke curled through the office.
In this era, before a comprehensive smoking ban had been implemented, the office was one enormous gas chamber.
“Rewrite it.”
“If I find another problem, you can roll back to the countryside and farm!”
“Do you hear me?”
Section Chief Yoshino waved her hand in disgust, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
“Yes! I heard you!”
Saionji Mina bowed again, then fled back to her seat as if escaping.
Fantasy was, in the end, only fantasy.
Reality was that she still needed this job to pay rent, electricity, and water bills. She still needed to survive like an ant in this cruel society.
Section Chief Yoshino watched her retreating back and snorted.
In truth, she did not care whether the materials Saionji Mina submitted had mistakes or omissions.
Even if the hearing materials were handed in as a blank sheet of paper, not a single yen of next year’s budget or bonuses would be missing.
What she cared about was last night.
Last night, in that yakiniku restaurant, some drunk who had appeared out of nowhere had ruined her favorite coat.
So all day today, everyone she looked at irritated her.
Especially this Saionji Mina—so timid and submissive, like a punching bag. Just looking at her made Yoshino furious.
What was more, last night at the yakiniku restaurant, this damned girl had actually huddled in the corner and watched, without even saying a word in support.
What use was there in keeping such an unperceptive subordinate around?
“Damned drunkard…”
Section Chief Yoshino cursed under her breath, picked up the cup of tea beside her that had already gone cold, and gulped down a mouthful.
She had better not run into that bastard again.
If she ever found out who that fellow was, the one who had strutted around deceiving people with Councilor Okawara’s business card, she would make sure he learned what happened when one angered a section chief at City Hall.
……
From City Hall to the apartment Saionji Mina rented, it took about twenty minutes on foot.
If she took the bus, it would only take five minutes, but to save the hundred-odd yen in fare, she was used to walking.
In Maebashi at the end of December, the cold wind was like a knife.
Saionji Mina wrapped her coat tightly around herself and buried her face in her scarf.
The shops on both sides of the street were all lit up.
She passed a convenience store, went in, and bought a discounted rice ball and a carton of milk. That was today’s dinner.
By the time she returned downstairs to her apartment building, it was already past six.
It was an old three-story apartment building. Some of the tiles on the outer wall had fallen off, and the stairs were made of concrete. There was no elevator.
Saionji Mina climbed the steps.
Although she lived on the third floor, there was no good view—she could only see the underwear hanging on the balcony of the building opposite.
At the turn of the stairs between the second and third floors, the voice-activated light that was always broken was still on strike today.
She stomped hard.
No response.
Pitch-black darkness.
“Even you’re bullying me.”
Saionji Mina muttered in the dark and could only feel her way up along the handrail.
She reached the third-floor corridor.
The voice-activated light here did turn on, its dim yellow glow spilling over the long, narrow passage.
Room 301 was her room.
And at the end of the corridor, the room next door, Room 302… was Dr. Kiryu’s room.
She did not take out her key. She stood in the corridor for a while.
She was waiting.
About a minute passed.
Click.
The voice-activated light went out, and the corridor sank into darkness.
Saionji Mina held her breath and lowered her head to look toward the door of Room 302.
From beneath the door, a faint line of light leaked out.
He was home.
Dr. Kiryu, who had kicked an oven away, swung a chair to smash an alarm, and calmly subdued the section chief in that yakiniku restaurant, was right behind that door.
Saionji Mina felt her heart begin to pound violently.
She tiptoed to the door of Room 302 and raised her hand. She wanted to knock, wanted to ask him—
“Excuse me, how can I live the way you do?”
“How can I face a vicious superior and, without the slightest hesitation, slap a rag right onto her face?”
“How can I, when I can’t stand my colleagues, just kick them all flying?”
“I want to be like that too.”
“Kiryu-san, please teach me.”
“Please.”