Programming languages, like clothes, go in and out of fashion. COBOL was once used in many industries, but that was before the year 2000. As Nagi had said, unless there was some special reason to use it, it didn’t make sense for new systems. But before she could explain, the manager scowled.
“I’m asking if you can use it or not,” he said in a nasty tone.
The owner seems mellow, but this guy is harsh, Keigo thought. He considered stepping in, but Nagi was the project manager. As he was debating whether interfering would be a mistake, Nagi responded apologetically.
“I’m terribly sorry, but our company does not have experience in COBOL, so I can’t give you an answer immediately… Would you mind if I get back to you after discussing the issue at the office?”
Very few programmers in their generation had experience using COBOL. It happened that Keigo had come across it while pursuing his programming hobby, but he’d never used it at work, and he doubted Nagi had ever used it at all.
“Are you serious? You’re a systems engineer, and you can’t answer my question?”
“I’m very sorry I don’t have more knowledge in that area.”
The manager snorted and stroked his chin, looking down at the back of Nagi’s head as she bowed apologetically.
“I’m starting to worry about hiring you for this job. If you were a pro, you’d be able to answer whatever question a client threw at you.”
“You’re right,” Nagi said.
“But actually, I was worried to start with. Women never seem to know as much about IT as men do. And you never know when they’re going to up and quit for maternity leave. How do I know you won’t do that?”
“Excuse me, may I say something?” Keigo interjected, unable to restrain himself any longer. “It’s true that since COBOL has high maintainability and performs calculations accurately, financial and securities firms still sometimes use it. But it lacks flexibility. I see it as a poor fit for your company, given that you have to adjust your pitch to customers on a daily basis depending on your marketing plan.”
“…Oh, is that right?”
The manager looked somewhat surprised by Keigo’s sudden interruption.
“Yes.” Keigo nodded, continuing so quickly the manager couldn’t squeeze in any objections. “I’d like to suggest Python for this project. Python is well known for its use in AI development. So for example, by incorporating AI into your e-commerce site, we’d be able to change the featured items displayed on the home page depending on a registered user’s gender or age. The site would also be able to sense when a user is hesitating over a purchase and display coupons or banners to encourage the sale.”
“Really? That sounds great.”
“I’ve heard AI is the trend these days. I’d like to know more,” the owner said, immediately latching on to Keigo’s suggestion. It seemed he’d managed to divert their attention.
“We’d be happy to prepare a revised proposal for you incorporating that technology. Would next week—?”
“Wait, could you e-mail it to me by tomorrow? Headquarters is pushing us to get this done fast,” the manager interrupted.
“Tomorrow…?” Keigo said, glancing at his watch. It was already after five. Drawing up a new proposal from scratch would take more than an hour or two, even for him. But before he could answer, Nagi spoke up.
“Yes, we can do that.”
“Really, you can?”
“Yes. The proposal will be in your in-box by tomorrow morning,” she said with a cheerful smile, ending the meeting.
“Um, Nagi?” Keigo said in confusion. He was trying to keep up with her as she speed-walked away from the Acsis shop. “Finishing that proposal by tomorrow is gonna be impossible.”
“Don’t worry. I can finish it if I stay late.”
“But you’re going out to dinner tonight.”
“I’ll tell him I can’t make it. Work is more important.”
Her tone was so blithe he didn’t know what to say.
“But you…”
“It’s fine,” she said, gently cutting him off.
He sensed a finality in her voice. It’s fine was a phrase she’d said often even when she was young. She’d used it to turn down his offer to help with the Kojima situation, too.
“I don’t want people to blame my lack of ability on the fact that I’m a woman,” she said, looking straight ahead.
Keigo began to understand what she was getting at. Women were far outnumbered in the IT industry, and there were probably still plenty of people clinging to the same stereotypes as the Acsis store manager. No doubt she’d put up with plenty of shit in the past. When he didn’t say anything, she glanced back at him with a bitter smile.
“Anyway, I’m sorry. I feel bad you had to help me out of that situation even though you just joined our team… Oh! I’d better text Kousaka…”
She pulled her phone out of her bag. She was probably going to tell Mr. Cider Commercial that she wanted to cancel dinner. He grabbed her hand.
“I’ll write up the new proposal. You go home.”
She looked at him in shock.
“No way, what are you talking about? I’ll do it.”
“I’m the one who brought up AI in the first place. Anyway, I did something similar back in the other department, so I’ll be able to do it faster.”
“That’s… Well, maybe that’s true, but…”
As her eyes darted around, Keigo noticed the lovely shade of brown eye shadow tinting her eyelids. Then he noticed her pale lipstick, the silver necklace peeking out from her blouse, and her carefully curled hair. Not a strand of it was for him. He knew that. But still.
“You’ve been messaging for five months, and today is the day you’re finally having dinner, right? It’s an important day. Go. Anyway, I’ll be done before midnight if I start now. Okay?”
He was supposed to be convincing Nagi, but it was more like he was soothing himself. His heart throbbed painfully. He’d felt this same pain hundreds of times. He was used to it. It wasn’t a big deal. It was the agony that came from not being able to do anything but look on in silence whenever she got interested in someone else or started dating them. That was his lot in life.