The next morning, Toshihiko noticed that Kawahara was deliberately ignoring him. Even after they’d broken up, she’d continued to cast suggestive glances at him or leave hint-laden notes on his desk. Now all that had suddenly stopped.
Come to think of it, she’d started angling for sympathy a week or so back, claiming she hadn’t been feeling well lately. And she did look gloomy, like she wasn’t getting enough sleep or something. Perhaps it hadn’t been an act after all. Toshihiko took a good look at her; the woman’s face was pallid, and her back was hunched slightly, as if her core had been taken out of her and she no longer had the energy to stand up straight.
Toshihiko placed a bottle of vitamins on Kawahara’s desk. If anyone caught him doing this, they would probably have gotten the mistaken impression he still had feelings for her. The truth was that he knew she had a strong constitution (in more ways than one) and was worried about what could be affecting her so badly. Had she always been as healthy and stable as she appeared?
She didn’t realize he was the one who’d left the vitamins. Even if she did, she didn’t say anything to him about it. There was no danger of complications there. He really wanted to avoid any misunderstandings. If it was any other coworker, he could have shrugged things off, but Kawahara had several admirers among the cram school staff. It would be all too easy for them to believe he was one, too.
Takuro Matsuno, the son of the school’s director, was one such suitor. He was always hovering around her, calling her affectionate nicknames and treating her better than he did the other women in the office. He’d invite her to dinner while everyone was watching; Toshihiko had seen him do it several times. Everyone considered him a rather hopeless case, not least Kawahara herself. She generally responded to his advances with icy looks.
Now that she and Toshihiko had broken up, he didn’t want to do anything that might give people mixed messages. It was a sad reality that perfectly innocent actions could be interpreted in unexpected and unintended ways. Toshihiko probably knew that better than anyone. It was strange she was avoiding him—she was even taking long detours to avoid running into him—but there was no point fretting about this. The problem would probably sort itself out, given time.
“You there. Kawahara,” came an irritatingly high voice.
It was Ootani, another member of the admin staff. A rather rotund lady, she could probably be mistaken for a small mountain from a distance. She had an ugly face, too. Maybe Toshihiko wouldn’t have thought of her so harshly if she was really good at her job or had a great personality, but in his estimation, neither were the case.
Ootani was the type who always read too deeply into things and immediately caused a fuss about it. She often complained about how women were oppressed but ignored the fact that she was the one doing a lot of the oppressing. “That’s not the way we do things here!” was a favorite phrase of hers. If you heard it coming from inside the break room, you knew she was telling someone off.
Even Midori had been on the receiving end of Ootani’s attacks. So had two students who’d been chatting in the hallway—a couple, apparently. Ootani had pulled them apart with a “That’s not the way we do things here!” and subsequently banned any and all PDA among the students.
Being the daughter of the cram school director’s old friend, Ootani was quite the big fish. It was such an injustice that people like her and Takuro, people who had nothing but a negative effect on the work environment, never got fired. At least this was still the kind of place where an outcast like Toshihiko could get by fairly comfortably. He was grateful for that much.
Right now, Ootani was standing in front of Kawahara, blocking her path.
“What is it, Ms. Ootani? I’d like to get past…”
Kawahara’s tone was harsher than usual. Normally, even when Ootani started throwing her weight around, Kawahara managed to rise above it and avoid provoking her any further. Out of everyone in the office, she was probably the one Ootani was the least confrontational with.
“I don’t like your tone. Are you saying I’m taking up too much space? Making personal remarks about a person’s body type is one of the rudest things you can possibly do, you know.”
The office heaved a collective sigh of resigned exasperation. Here we go again, it seemed to say. Takuro Matsuno pretended to be deeply absorbed in the paperwork on his desk. As much as he seemed to like Kawahara, he didn’t have it in him to defend her honor in a situation like this. It was pathetic, really.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. What do you want? If you’ve got some business with me, come right out and say it.”
Not to be outdone by the fearsome look in Kawahara’s eyes, Ootani glared right back at her. The younger woman never spoke to or looked at anyone like this. Ootani became more and more hysterical as she went on.
“Our job involves safeguarding children, you know. We have a duty to set an example for these impressionable young minds. You can’t expect to shrug everything off with a simple ‘That’s not what I meant.’”
Noticing that Kawahara wasn’t buckling under her verbal assault, Ootani changed tack.
“At any rate, I hear that you’ve been harassing Mr. Katayama.”
Toshihiko barely stifled a cry of incredulity. That Ootani had been perceptive enough to notice Kawahara was avoiding him was one thing. But to label it as a form of harassment felt excessive. Her behavior was passive-aggressive, perhaps. But they were all adults here. No one with an ounce of discretion would have felt the need to call someone out on it.
“I’ve been watching the whole thing. We’re all adults here. Even if you don’t get along with someone, the normal thing to do is to just bear with it. Try to consider Mr. Katayama’s feelings. And another thing! I’ll thank you to remember that this is a workplace—you’re here to work. It’s not somewhere for you to find a man. That’s not the way we do things here!”
A self-satisfied smirk rose to Ootani’s lips. She’d said all she wanted to say. She cast a meaningful look at Toshihiko, as if to tell him, There, I’ve fixed that problem for you. He felt like he should say something to make his position on all this clear and was just opening his mouth to do so, when…
“Shut up.”
For a moment, nobody was sure who had spoken; the voice had been so low. Everyone who usually made a point of busying themselves with other conversations when Ootani was on the warpath fell silent. Kawahara slowly raised her head.
“Let me ask you something. Do you know why you’re so unsatisfied with your life, Ms. Ootani?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Kawahara’s sudden change in demeanor had clearly shaken her.
“What do you mean, ‘what are you talking about’? Day after day after day, all you do is complain and snap at people. What the hell is your problem?”