Even if Keigo felt like the world was ending, time kept marching on indifferently. The old line about “time fixing everything” was definitely a lie. After all, a block of ice shattered to tiny pieces could never be put back together again.
“That should take care of it. If any other issues come up, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”
Keigo and Saotome left the factory, the clients bowing and saying their good-byes as huge machines started up behind them. The pair had come to fix a bug in the system at this textile mill. Saotome had originally been in charge of the account, but Nagi had asked Keigo to go with her, saying that if the bug was in the network rather than the system itself, his more extensive knowledge in that field would be needed.
“…Thanks,” Saotome said curtly. As Nagi had predicted, the problem originated in the router, so Saotome would probably have had a hard time fixing it herself.
“…You’re welcome,” he answered brusquely, without looking at her.
Two weeks had passed since the worst day of his life. Saotome had been consistently frosty, and as for Nagi, they hadn’t exchanged a word outside work. While Nagi and Saotome weren’t on bad terms, Nagi was under the mistaken impression that Saotome liked Keigo and seemed vaguely reticent around her, as if she thought she’d wronged her somehow. And because Saotome thought Keigo was to blame for Nagi’s distance, she was extremely cold toward him. It was like one big, vicious cycle.
Without another word, Keigo and Saotome continued onto the train. As Keigo sat glumly staring out the window, he remembered something.
“Ms. Saotome?” he said. She turned toward him crossly. “I’d like to drop off some papers with a client. Would you mind if we got off at the next stop? It’ll only take a minute.”
He happened to have some documents he’d promised to deliver the next time he was in the neighborhood.
“It’s fine with me,” she said, nodding grudgingly.
They got off together and walked the five minutes to the office building. He asked her to wait in the entry hall while he took the elevator upstairs and delivered the documents. The client offered him a cup of tea, but he told them a coworker was waiting downstairs and hurried back to the first floor. When he got out of the elevator, he spotted Saotome sitting on a sofa facing away from him. He was about to offer to buy her a can of hot tea from the vending machine to thank her for coming along.
But just then, he heard someone say, “…Saotome, is that you?”
He froze. The woman, a total stranger to him, must work in the building.
“Oh, it is you! It’s me, Hirasawa! We were in the same class in junior high. Do you remember me?”
“…Oh, yeah,” Saotome said, nodding like she’d just remembered.
“It’s been ages! You’re as cute as ever! Or maybe even cuter!”
“That’s not true…,” Saotome said, smiling a bit distantly. As Keigo tried to decide if he should interrupt, the two women kept talking.
“What are you up to these days?” Hirasawa asked.
“I’m working at an IT company.”
“Wow! So you’ve got a regular job. That’s a surprise!”
“Why?” Saotome asked, tilting her head quizzically.
“I mean…,” Hirasawa said, smiling. “Knowing you, I thought you’d be married to some rich guy and living a life of leisure by now.”
There didn’t seem to be any malice in the comment, but Saotome’s voice when she answered was stiff.
“…I don’t plan to marry anyone.”
“Really? Why not?” Hirasawa asked innocently.
“Being single is more fun.”
“Oh, that’s right—you were famous for hating guys. And they were falling over themselves to ask you out anyway! You were incredible.”
“Ah-ha-ha…”
Saotome laughed dryly, but Hirasawa seemed to have no intention of stopping her nostalgia session.
“That reminds me! Didn’t you have a stalker? Your slippers and gym clothes always used to go missing, right? I still remember how everyone used to feel sorry for you. And that one time some creepy old man cut your skirt. Remember, on the way home from school?”
Saotome flinched visibly.
“It turned into such a big fuss,” Hirasawa went on. “I mean, I can see how that would make you hate men. But it really is too bad, someone as pretty as you making up your mind not to date anyone…”
“Saotome,” Keigo said, almost without realizing what he was doing. She whipped her head around to look at him, her face totally pale. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
He walked over to her and looked at Hirasawa, who seemed surprised.
“Is this a friend of yours?”
“…We were in the same class in junior high,” Saotome said quietly.
“Ah,” he said, then turned back to Hirasawa and smiled. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for helping my coworker pass the time.”
“Oh, not at all…,” she said, shaking her head. For some reason, he felt like she was examining him closely. He squatted down in front of Saotome.
“Are you okay to walk?” he asked.
“Yes.”
She stood up right away and turned bravely toward Hirasawa.
“See you,” she said with a smile, then headed for the door. Keigo nodded at Hirasawa and followed Saotome.
“…”
As they walked back to the train station, Keigo glanced at her. The color had returned to her face, but her expression remained dark. He remembered her saying the other day that she hated men. He wanted to punch himself for never giving the slightest thought to the kind of life she had lived. Simply by virtue of living, every person goes through transformative events, just like Nagi had. The weight of the resulting sorrow could never be measured. It was possible that Saotome had experienced things in her life that were many times harder than Keigo could even imagine.
“…Sorry about the other day,” he mumbled. She glanced suspiciously at him.
“Sorry about what?”
“About yelling at you and saying some harsh stuff.”
There was an interval of silence before she finally replied.
“Are you apologizing because you feel sorry for me?”
“Huh?” he said, stopping in his tracks. She stopped, too. She turned slowly toward him—her gaze was icy.
“If you’re feeling sympathy because you think I’m weaker than you as a woman, don’t. Please don’t try to help me or rescue me. If you genuinely feel bad, then don’t give me any special treatment.” She spoke quickly, then grimaced. “I’m begging you… Please treat me like you would any other person. Just treat me normally.”
She looked on the verge of tears, but Keigo couldn’t think of anything else to say to her.
They returned to the office without exchanging another word. Completely exhausted, Keigo dropped into his chair. First Saotome, then Nagi… Had he ever struggled this desperately to get along with people before? Across from him, Nagi was focused on her work with a serious expression. He couldn’t remember her smiling at him even once in the past two weeks. They had often fought as kids, but they would always make up after a day or so. And look at them now. He could probably fix everything by apologizing and asking her to forget he ever mentioned it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. How pathetic! He was supposed to be a grown man.
“What?!”
Keigo jerked his head up at the sudden shout from a nearby desk. It had apparently come from Saotome. She was staring in disbelief at her own monitor.
“No, this can’t be…”
“What’s the matter, Saotome?” Nagi asked, worry in her voice.
“Ms. Yoroizuka…is this…?”
She swiveled her monitor toward Nagi. Nagi looked intently at the words on the screen.
“All your files have been encrypted…?” she muttered.
Keigo jumped up.
“Nagi! Let me see that!”
Nagi hurriedly traded places with him, and he stared at the monitor. An unfamiliar browser had started up on Saotome’s desktop, and English words filled the screen. Keigo stared in astonishment at the large letters at the top.
All your files have been encrypted.
“Everyone, disconnect your devices from the network and make sure no suspicious tasks are running!” he shouted.
Everyone in the office looked up in surprise.
“It’s ransomware,” he said as he hurriedly checked Saotome’s computer.