Chapter 5
Janine (Ja-nin)
When I first received my first paycheck, I booked a ticket. But when I boarded the plane, someone called.
“Where have you been off to? My secretary said you're boarding a flight to South Africa?”
“Maa ne…” I mumbled, unsure about it, nodding in the middle of the lounge area.
“Janine, get back in here!”
My body jolted to an almost jump scare at that.
“Ha-hai. Wakatta, wakatta desu yo,” I console. “Mattaku… ochitsuke.”
So two years later, I've never made it to South Africa. Kuso. Because just this year, I've heard that they're currently in violent protests about mass unemployment. Now, I cannot possibly go there.
In the span of two years after that attempt, my current job post made it so busy to have my holiday getaway.
Just like right now, where I'm sitting around a very polished room, with a live orchestra at a corner playing another Kawasaki piano music advertisement that has no lyrics and no vocals. It could be another Vivaldi or Chopin again. I don't know, don't ask me. They're the only ones I know. Someone whispered to me a while ago that it's Steve Reich, but I didn't read that name on the Kawasaki commercial I watched, so I'm not sure.
Then, there are the roaming butlers who have their cupboards filled with wine while they move around the chattering women who are either in their Channel or whatever custom dresses they wore for this occasion.
This is another one of those “black-tie” events that should've been beyond my category. But since I'm paid for this job, I am now made to participate in these types of gatherings.
“Have you heard about that actress?”
One woman looked briefly before moving her cutlery.
“Dārē?”
“The one involved with Fujimaru-sama?”
The woman who moved her cutlery ate first then chewed as she swallowed in leisure before replying. “She’s quite a beauty these days, sou desu ne? Catching the eye of the Fujimaru Shipping.”
“But it's a pity the actress prefers an actor. She had them both at her palms.”
Both of these women snickered.
The woman with cutlery puts it down as she tilts her head for a brief moment. She began to grab the table handkerchief to dab her mouth. “Well-played. That actress.”
Then, they chuckled.
Once they're through with their gossip, they find it in their mood to redirect their attention to me. One woman made a brief glance, brushing a swift up-and-down look before nodding a smile.
“Sakurai-san.” She nods her head in graceful acknowledgement. “How have you been lately?”
“I’m doing great, Takanashi-san,” I replied, greeting her warmly in return. “But I beg pardon, what's this event again?”
They were astounded as to remain speechless.
“It's a foundation meant to fund the poor people in the Philippines,” Takanashi-san managed to reply. “Surely, you would know that, wouldn't you?”
The woman who was moving her cutlery a while ago began to drink her wine. “It's in the brochure. The goals of the charity are clearly written once read.”
“Oh,” I blurted. “Now, please excuse me. I didn't know about my poor people in the Philippines. I must have mistaken it for the homeless people in Osaka.”
These two Kansai women grew stiff before stifling a sound, quietly clearing their throat.
“That will be tomorrow, Sakurai-san,” Takanashi-san replied, giving one of her best winsome smiles. “I do hope you will attend as you are now.”
“I do feel like a kind person, so I might as well attend. Not just because they're from the Philippines.” I smiled in return.
Takanashi-san nodded in faint agitation, while the other woman’s face hardened into a blank look.
“How did you and Sakurai-sama meet?” The woman asked.
“Hanazawa-san, beg your pardon?”
She gave a wane smile. “How did you two fall in love? I’m really curious about your world-defying love story.”
Love story, huh?
“Ma…” I straightened my posture and leaned back, sitting full erect. “Masato was fishing one time in his yacht. Then, he heard someone singing a ballad. The singer was me,” came my flat ending.
These two blinked for a good two seconds.
Takanashi-san sighed and smiled. “Ah, a singer. Sou da ne. Filipinas are good singers after all.” Then she laughed her discomfort away.
Hanazawa-san remains unmoved, however. “Soka. You're a jazz singer?”
“Ii ya.” I shook my head. “Kyabakura.”
That ending hit an off-key flat when it landed on their ears once more. Takanashi-san stared, dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.
Hanazawa-san, however, carried on. She resumed her meal. “Shikata nai na. Love is blind after all,” she commented.
Smiling, I nodded. “As it is.”
Takanashi-san, recovering her amiable composure, began to chuckle. “Sou. I think that type of love story truly defies any category.” Then she moved on to drink her own champagne.
Here, we have the congregation of corporate wives à la philanthropists to make them look like they’re in vogue.
For what did Masato always remind me?
“Make my image look better, and don't you ever embarrass me.”
Ma, that mantra is an imperative, mind you all. Masato might as well give me the Ten Commandments. And if I transgress? He will smite me with his rod. Oh, dear god.
Mendokusai…
My life's a limbo. This Minato-ku girl’s new job description is something else. That jerk of a man didn't give me a memo. What he was since day one is what he is since forever.
“You can get by,” says this man in his broken record.
During the early days, I had a panic attack. It's because I couldn't differentiate many spoons from the table I was presented once upon a time. This happened when we were having a courtesy dinner with a diplomat guest.
Yep, you guessed it. The South African ambassador.
Where's Jackson there?
None.
Zero existence.
“Masato!” I shrieked around this new house he has around Kudan-kita, running towards his study room. “I need training, baka! Baka yarou!”
This jerk met me with his signature blank face, and remained unbothered when I arrived at his office. This room where he instructed to be built because this guy is a workaholic. He brought his corporate papers here to continue his work even on weekends. Right now, he even carried on reading whatever was there on his desk.
“What complaint should I be receiving this time, Janine?”
“What's this job I'm hired for? This doesn't look like a Minato-ku girl's job anymore!” I cried. “Where's my guideline for this? I'm an entry-level employee.”
“You're my wife on paper,” came his short reply.
“What does that even mean? Does that include me going around formal events everyday?”
“Whatever your role demands you to.”
“What role? Where's my training? Didn't employees get their training first before entering the real job? I need training for this. I'm enrolling in an etiquette class! How dare you put me in that situation. To have dinner with a diplomat,” I mumbled, sighing out my vent.
“Anything else?” He trailed. “Enroll if you wish, didn't I already give you your allowance?”
“How about giving me a clearer job description? I'm doing this collision of roles all-around. This is exploitation…” I protested.
“You can get by,” he said, repeating this for over a million times already!
Grr…
“You should optimize whatever is given to you. Make most of the cards you're made to deal with,” he continued, speaking ambiguous nonsense as if he's a prophet.
That took me to a pause. “Quite true, “ I concede, massaging my chin. “Which reminds me… I should make a job well-done and then file for a holiday vacation later. I'm going to South Africa.”
“You are not going anywhere beyond my radius.”
“Mou! Not only then this is exploitation, this is captivity! I have labor rights, Sakurai-san,” I protested again. “Screw the bourgeoisie that exploits the proletariat.”
“The bourgeoisie is currently working while a proletariat complains.”
“I'm calling your secretary. Screw you, dictator!”
“Go.”
I wanted to kick something but I stomped my feet when I left that office because I'm pissed at this guy.
I have decided that this is captivity and exploitation. Masato is shady.
You see, after a call before that late shinkansen ride and after agreeing to this new arrangement, I asked for a free consultation to ChatGPT. And ChatGPT said I should file for a pre-nuptial agreement. Because, if our business deal comes into dissolution, ChatGPT said I'll have a safety net with the money I earned or negotiated with, and it will not be immediately taken back by that shady man, Masato.
So I asked it to write a pre-nuptial agreement stating that all properties gained during the “marriage” on paper must be strictly to each their own. There should be no implicit 50/50 division except when it's formally signed and written down in legal papers.
The rest. My money.
As months passed by, Masato asked me to be his housemate. We both each have our rooms in this house. Since this is free lodging for my new job and free food, I agreed.
When I first saw it, I thought it's one of those square and glass houses you usually see in architecture magazines. Whatever. The bottomline is that I'm no longer living in a dorm but in a shared house with a large bedroom, Masato being my housemate.
No secretary is currently living in this shared house. Maybe because Masato is really shady.
When my job began, it turns out that it's actually me lounging nearby a pool everyday. I did that for two weeks, then I got bored. I asked Masato about my job but he shrugged.
“You can always ask my secretary,” says this one-liner whose mouth really won't open no matter what.
I've gotten so bored, I put out my first complaint. You know what actions he made? Sou. My employer decided to throw me around these “black-tie” occasions with that maxim:
“You must not embarrass me.”
So I've gotten into whatever training there is that puts me into practice while attending this never-ending event as the people around call me by the name “Sakurai-san,” which is currently my ID as an employee.
I think my ID is quite strong. Because one time, while I was walking to the elevator, I didn't need to tap like the other employees. It feels like cruising whenever I visit the Sakurai's office just to consult with Masato's secretary.
This ID has some perks…
Like sales discounts and free rides, very nice.
But not a holiday trip to South Africa.
Which is quite a drag. Drag!
But… but… and but… if we're to speak of free rides…
“Mori-san, does my job also include not taking a shinkansen? Why is there someone who always picks me up when I visit this place?” I asked when I finally reached Masato's vacant office with his secretary being the only one present.
“For your safety, okusan. We have to take preventive measures.”
“Oh…” that's my only response. Because this is beyond my category.
“What's okusan? Is that also my job title?”
“It's your proper address, okusan.”
Oh… It must be related to my current job. Janine, ganbatte ne! For a retirement plan in South Africa later! Or in Taiwan!
Hai!
“Does that also include Masato not driving?”
Mori-san looked up with a brisk head movement. His eyes are attentive if not quick from his current task. He made a vague sound of picking it up before checking the iPad screen he's monitoring.
“I mean, there's this one time I have a free ride. Then, Masato joined. I stared at him quizzically with one eyebrow up. I asked him, ‘didn’t you have your own car?’ He ignored me and ordered the driver to proceed.”
Mori-san only made a sound in question. “It's expected of Bucho to be the same as you would, okusan. Would that be when both of you arrived here?”
I nodded. “Hai, sou desu ne,” came my succeeding reply. “That time when I asked you what occasion I'm attending again? I wasn't informed that it has been an event of funding a charity in the Philippines.”
I dropped my bag on the sofa of this office and slumped, taking a breath from the shoes the stylist recommended as something I should wear. What's a stylist? Ask Mori-san, that's his suggestion.
“That's Bucho’s everyday routine, okusan.”
I snorted. “He can't drive?” Then I laughed. “That jerk is a coward yet can't drive. Man, what a double-kill.”
“I beg your pardon, okusan. May you please come again?”
Relaxing into my seat with my arms both stretched wide at the back of this sofa, I turned my head around at the standing Mori-san.
“Tell your employer that not only is he a coward but a pampered boy he doesn't know how to drive. Hidoi.”
Masato must have been informed. Because late into the night, his voice boomed.
“Janine!”
“Ay, santisima!” I muttered in surprise. “The hell?”
When my bedroom door creaked to get me out of my room, I saw where that voice came from. Masato was standing on the ground floor and breathing. He looked up, without breaking eye-contact, he rushed to a stride.
“What have you been blabbering about my secretary this time? Baka! You're on air with my business clients when you've uttered that baseless nonsense.” Masato climbed so fast on the stairs.
Help. Help!
“O-okay. Kyaa!” I raised both my hands as a defense. “How did you even hear it?”
He stopped in front me. “I'm about to call my secretary via intercom when this Pina couldn't even mind her words. Who is he that you call as someone who can't drive?”
“But it's true, isn't it? Not only you're a spineless coward but an incompetent driver—”
“Ha?! Nanda?!”
He grabbed both my shoulders and I shivered.
“Masato, ii ya. Yamete kudasai. But you're a pampered boy nonetheless.”
Shit, my mouth really wouldn't stop.
I closed my eyes of what's about to happen. This is a suspense I didn't sign up for. How much I've earned already in my bank account? Will it be enough for early resignation?
Let's see, 15 million yen multiplied by two years…
That'll be 30 million yen in savings. Hai. That's enough.
I'm resigning!
Masato let go of his hold and walked away as he held onto the bannister in front of him.
“Get ready on Sunday, we'll have another occasion to attend to by the way,” he said when he seemed to be cooling down. He washed his face with one hand before breathing out. “Gomen, I'm tired. Go back to your room.”
Okay…
Then, when Sunday came and when I got out of this glass house, I saw a shiny car in front of the gate.
“Ooh~ Whose car is this? Kakoi…” I wondered, then took a picture of it.
Out of curiosity, I made a quick Google search for it by image. Google said it's an Aston Martin. Well, it looks gray and not the typical black. Masato must have a visitor inside.
The car blinked.
“It looks like you're ready. Ikou,” said a voice behind before it appeared to be Masato in his coat.
“Where's your driver?”
He only gave me an incredulous look when he pulled the car’s door to get in.
My face was stuck into a shock when the car beeped.
“Janine, why are you still standing there? Ikou!”
“You can't drive, can you? Where's your driver?” I crouched, meeting him through his car window.
Masato's lips pursed. “There's no driver for this weekend. Since, as it turns out, somebody has accused me of being an incompetent driver.”
“E?”
He made a rough “tch” before revving up to acceleration. He began to pull the windows up. “I’m going on an off-duty trip by the way.”
My attention spiked. “Oh, where to? South Africa?”
He swung his head to my direction with a deadpan face as the car window covered the interior. “Tōhoku. Ja ne.”
“Chotto. Matte. Matte!” I ran. Sticking my body near the car's door before it managed to accelerate. “It’s still a holiday, sou?”
Masato didn't respond and didn't even bother to put the windows down. I knocked many times.
“Ne, you said I should get ready. What use is my outfit today but for a holiday? I paid a stylist for this!” I cried, still knocking on the windows, but a click came. “Oh,” I muttered, pulling the door before it opened.
Heh. Okay.
So I’ve forgotten all my drama. We're going on a holiday trip! Hihi. To the North, to the South, if not South Africa. A holiday is a holiday. Ikou!
“Why up North?” I turned to this amateur driver when I got inside.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” he said instead. When I did, he spoke again, “we're going on a test drive. So that my wife on paper doesn't go on to broadcast the stupidest remark ever known to mankind.”
“Pfft. Chigau na…” I flipped my hand in dismissal. “That’s your ego talking.”
But ego or not, he made it a plan to gas up. And soon enough he's on a ride-or-die moment that Sunday morning.
“This will do. I miss Autobahn, actually,” he casually remarked under 140 km/h.
“I don't care,” I replied, frozen in my seat and gripping tight around the edges. “If you have plans to kill me, at least distribute my savings with due diligence, wakatta ne? First, my mom. Second, my grandparents. Then, to Bettina.”
“No one's dying on my watch.”
“You jerk, you are incompetent still.” I cried again. “You suck at Yumeko-san. She got married and just had her second baby this time. Now you're suicidal. I don't want a double suicide, baka!”
Masato sighed, and then slowed down. “There now, don't cry. It's a pity to have your fragile sensibilities offended.”
I wiped the tears my eyes betrayed and punched him. “Kuzu.”
Masato chuckled. Then he gave a quick laugh. “Mendokuse, Janine,” he sighed, but then he laughed again.
“What's so funny? Nani?!”
He stopped laughing. “Betsuni,” he breathed out. “This is your punishment for mocking me in my own office.”
I punched him again but he evaded it.
Ira ira!
Your time will soon come, Masato. I shall wait for the day when it does.
When we arrived in Tōhoku, and the car had slowed to a stop on what looks like a mountain view, I got out.
“Tch. Jerk,” I said, before closing the car door. I then walked through the farthest spot of this viewpoint.
Masato just stood there, receiving a call from someone. Annoyed and truly pissed, I walked all over the deep forest to cool down. One warning sign said that there might be bears around.
Uwa~
Mama bear, Papa bear and baby bear. It's like Goldilocks. I think those cute bears will soothe my annoyance made by that guy. So I wandered on.
When I tried to ask Google Maps where Masato dragged me, it said that we're in Shirakami-Sanchi. My head kept turning around to observe the tall crowded sugi. It recently rained, so it's foggy around this deep forest. These cedars also diffused the musky wooden scent coming off from their trunks caused by the after-rain. Above these tall trees are the ominous chirps of some birds, emphasized by the relentless loud knocks of the woodpeckers. Lower and far ahead comes the rolling downhill view of mizosoba, puckered and jammed to the shroudy comb mint. When I wandered further, there was a small cluster of buna, standing tall.
As I kept walking through this forest trail, the scattered branches and leaves huddled to meet me. Another set came into view, there were kurobuna trees beside the few leafless inubuna trees this time. One kurobuna even has a bear claw mark on it. A row of sugi trees later, and a kumahagi became visible by how ripped its trunk's layers were. The bears are really here.
That soothed my prickly mood as I kept walking. Until my forest trail led me to a path of meadow. The hazy meadow greeted me with a carpet of miscanthus swaying every time the wind passed by, this time, along with the fūchisō bushes. This landscape was lighter and less crowded. The tranquil rustle of these susuki are prevalent, but an unusual noise came later, a small head of a black bear popped up in the midst of this meadow.
Kuma? Kyaa! Kawaii~
There, my annoyed mood was eradicated and is immediately replaced by the adorable sniffing baby bear. So cute. Hihi. Kyaa!
It trod with its baby four feet further and stood again. The black bear has a white fur necklace around. The renowned crescent-moon fur. Uwa~
When I saw the baby bear, I took a picture. I think it's the tsukinowa-guma. Kawaii~
But then there's a shutter sound on my phone and the bear gets distracted, he wanders his head to look around.
Someone snatched my phone.
“Janine, what the hell are you doing?!” A harsh whisper came above me when I looked up. “That’s a bear cub! Baka!”
“Nande?”
Another rustle of leaves came from a different direction and we saw a bigger bear looking at us. My quick glance saw the baby bear eating something.
Kawaii~
Masato grabbed my wrist and tugged me quickly. “Don't do anything silly now. The mother bear is looking at us. Stay calm, Janine. Do as I say,” he gritted under his teeth. He lets go as he began to wave his arm. “Look steady at the mother bear. Step back slowly with your face in front. Don't you dare turn around.”
My brows furrowed. “What the heck are you doing? What's with those flailing arms?”
“Damatte!” He hissed low. “Do it likewise and you'll save us from danger.
“Wakatta.” But I like mine different from him. So I pinched my nose and raised my free hand to create a downward curvy wave. I even accompanied it with my body movement.
Buku-buku.
Yatta! This one's unique! This time, with more energy, so that Mama bear can see my drowning action while Masato waves his arms as if he's asking for help.
Raise one hand, pinch my nose lightly, blow my cheeks and…
Downward curved hand motion with body wave movement. Buku-buku.
Masato didn't break eye contact with Mama bear when he stepped back, to which I followed with my unique moves. Masato let out a steeled voice. “Just what the hell are you doing?”
“Hmm?” My nasal voice asked out of my pinched nose. “Aren’t we asking for help from Mama bear? You're waving while I'm drowning.” I keep doing just that.
I like this game. We're doing a mime routine. And I can do this all day. Mā, I've been doing this since high school, so it's not that hard.
But Mama bear approached her baby bear until they moved so far away that they’re finally out of our sight.
Ha? Mama bear, I thought you're saving us? Baby bear. Uwa~ Sayonara.
Masato snatched my hand and dragged me to keep walking. Before I could process what's going on, he stretched his stride. I had to walk faster to keep up. “I’ve turned my attention away for about a minute and you find it in your inclination to immediately disappear. What are you? A child? Didn't you see those bear warnings, Janine? Baka!”
“Urusee!” I pulled my hand away from his hold and walked faster where I overtook him. Arē? Who is he to scold me like a kid? Hmph! “Who flew his car beyond the speed limit? Omae... baka!”
There were rustling leaves again that we turned around to see Mama bear coming back.
“Mama bear, you miss us already?” I asked, greeting Mama bear with a warm welcome.
“Janine,” Masato's measured voice pleaded. “Stop being silly and get your act together!” He seethes.
Mama bear sniffed somewhere else and ran over there.
Ma, why would you ignore me twice Mama bear?
“Get in the car,” Masato ordered. “I'll deal with you later. Hayaku.” He gestured his hand when he quickened his steps.
Once we got in the car, his “deal with me later” erupted.
“Don't blame me! You parked your car over here!” I said.
“That doesn't mean to say you'll wander off and picture a wild bear! Janine, baka! There were big warning signs posted all over the mountain park.”
“The baby bear is so cute,” came my defense anyway. And speaking of bears, my head flashed a light bulb moment. A-ha! Forget arguing, I remembered something else entirely. I giggled. “Ne, where's my phone? Let me show you the shots I've taken.”
Masato, however, lay his head on the steering wheel he's holding and sighed. “Kamisama hotokesama…”
But then, Mama bear popped up on Masato's window and Mama bear stuck its nose as it raised its two paws, showing two long and sharp claws.
“Kyaa! Masato.” I tapped Masato’s arm quickly. “Mama bear might be asking for a snack? Look!” I pointed beside him outside.
When Masato turned around, he gave a horrified gasp, his body shot backwards to retreat; almost reaching my spot. He straightened back to his seat and ignited the engine fast. It made a low roar which caused Mama bear to stagger, Mama bear then retreated too.
A few seconds later, Masato cleared his throat.
Ha?
“Nani kore?” I asked, dumbfounded. Because suddenly Masato circled the steering wheel and sped up
I turned over the back window when the car left the area and saw a baby bear paddling those tiny steps as it rushed towards Mama bear.
Uwa~
I looked to Masato, who became too focused on the road. He sprinted once he reached the open expressway at 100 km/h until the engine was the only sound I could hear. When my own realization eventually came, I chuckled. But then I remembered Masato's epic reaction a while ago…
Ichiban. I laughed so hard, tears came to my eyes.
“I should have just thrown you to that bear, don't you think so, Janine? Your seatbelt.”
My laugh didn't want to subside. Another wave of bursts came again that I have to hold onto my stomach. With my trailing chuckle, I weakly buckled the seatbelt up until I managed to speak afterwards. “Then do your duty and distribute my property to my relatives.”
Masato scoffed. “Enough. Kaero zo.”
He cruised at 120 km/h and I was a frozen statue when we arrived back in Tokyo.
Later that week, I visited my mom. The pub's still the same. Mama-san, with her fan, was idly doing some hawk surveillance to the movement of everything. While ātē Mina is at her best composure pouring a drink to a man sitting next to her.
“Mama-san~” I said. “Where's mom?”
Mama-san raised one of her eyebrows. “E? Why would you still be looking for your mom? Aren't you married to your client or that boyfriend—Janine, I'm confused.”
“Ah, ii yo, Mama-san.” I flipped my hand in denial. “That's another job I have. They just called it wife because he's pressured by his parents.”
Mama-san looked at me, unconvinced. “What happened? You both have a fight? Why are you here now?”
“Almost, Mama-san. Ha…” I massaged my eyebrows and fixed my hair. “I called him an incompetent driver once, and he went for an all-out rage.”
“Typical.” Mama-san shrugged. “It's good you’re still alive.”
“I'm grateful too.” I nodded. “And I'm planning if I should go back to becoming a hostess? See if I still have that good muscle memory.” I winked at Mama-san.
“Irraishaimase!” The hostesses said.
“I’m reminded that maybe I should stop over,” a hoarse masculine voice said.
As I turned in that direction, I saw a very delightful man. “Ito-san~”
“There goes your favorite customer.” Mama-san tipped her head.
With my sling bag in hand, I threw my hand in the open and greeted Ito-san. “Hisashiburi. What a coincidence to see you around?”
Ito-san's wrinkled eyes rounded. “Ārē, Eli-chan. Eli-chan!”
I'm in a good mood to greet Ito-san with a cheek-to-cheek greeting or what we called as “beso-beso.” But when I did that, Ito-san literally landed his wet kiss and sucked both my cheeks where the saliva lingered there, it was a terrible decision.
“Hisashiburi,” Ito-san greeted. “Where have you been?”
I held both of Ito-san's shoulders and giggled. “I have a new job these days, so I couldn't be around for a while.”
“What job?” Ito-san asked, caressing me in return by the shoulders until he ran his palms all over my waist. I almost shuddered.
“Minato-ku girl, Ito-san.” I tipped my head. “Shall we? Do you want a drink?”
“Ah, sou, sou.” He nodded with rapt attention.
We both seated in one of the tables when Tita Cynthia came to serve us. “Oh, you're back.”
I waved my hand. “I've been missing Ito-san's company lately.” I giggled.
Tita Cynthia gave me a look before stretching a smile. “Here are your drinks.”
When the drinks came, I poured it in and gave it to Ito-san. “Ma, how's your day today, Ito-san? Did it go well? You came to stop by?”
Ito-san, however, landed his hand on my lap and went on to caress my thigh. He flipped his head to a melancholic expression. “Our business is not doing well these past days, Eli-chan. But this morning, it turned out well!”
“E?” My face brightened. “How?”
“It must be because of Eli-chan. You're my lucky charm.” Ito-san then proceeds to squeeze my thigh.
“Ito-san~” I lightly tapped his shoulders to push him away. “Yamete. Stop flattering me,” I squeaked these words out then giggled. “How did it recover? Is it because you made it happen? Mou, Ito-san. There must be a secret technique about it,” I whispered before a wink.
“Ah, sou.” Ito-san gasped as he stretched his arm at the back of the seat behind me. He then lowered it to grab me by the shoulders. “Ima...” Ito-san moved closer until we're bumping from hip to hip. “It's because of the solution I proposed.”
“Ah…” I seconded, then I remembered his drinks. I let go of his hold to reach for our cup and pour the drinks.
But Ito-san only lowered his hand to my waist.
When I returned, I leaned sideways to face him fully and gave him back his glass. “Kanpai.” Then our glasses clinked.
Ito-san goes on to drink and talk. “We even have our team building activities. They need help, I came to rescue but my back cracked.”
“Ah, yabai…”
“Iya. Because the morning after, I was strong again. Yokatta!”
“Ah, Ito-san, kakoi. Kanpai!” I made him clink our glass again, then both of us drank.
Right now, I've lodged my head on Ito-san’s arm resting on the sofa.
“So I said to my colleagues, don't put me in the clinic, I can work, work, work!”
“Hai,” I chorused.
“Because even if I work until 4, I'm strong.”
“E~ sugoi.” I giggled and clapped again. “Ito-san, kakoi.”
“You won't believe this, Eli-chan. But I was sent to Sapporo during winter days and I thought I couldn't do it. But when I got there, I didn't feel any cold at all.”
“Ah…” I nodded again, feeling tipsy. “Because Ito-san is strong.”
“Mochiron!”
I giggled. “Hai. Suge, Ito-san.”
See, this is what I like about Ito-san. His plot always thickens but he remains the same.
The main character of his own story.
Ah… my favorite.
“What are your superpowers, Ito-san? Could it be that you're secretly reincarnated with high level skills?”
“Ah, hai. It could be that I'm blessed with that.” He nodded and began to drink. Ito-san also begins to douse since his eyes are battling to close.
“E? Let me see your high level superpowers, Ito-san. Kanpai!” I quickly filled his drink again. “More power.”
“More power!” Ito-san declared and drank.
He passed out drunk seconds after and now he's snoring.
I tapped his back lightly. “Ganbatte, Ito-san,” I whispered, “Oyasumi.” Then took out his wallet for his credit card and swiped it to the counter with Mama-san. I later returned his wallet to his pocket.
“You still have it in you, Janine. You can always come back,” Mama-san remarked when I couldn't even walk straight.
“Where's mom? She hasn't arrived yet?”
Mama-san shrugged. “Seems like it. She frequently travels these days.”
I grumbled. “Naruhodo. Guess I have to go home.”
When I said my goodbye to them, and to Tita Cynthia whom I asked if she might want a chocolate to give to his son, I soon left.
“Ne, Mina. Gomene,” I heard someone murmur.
When I turned around, it's that young inspector and ātē Mina with her unreadable face. Tipsy that I am, I gestured my hand for a cheer and mouthed, “Ganbatte” to her. Ātē Mina just glared at me and I chuckled.
When I was out in Shinjuku, I walked with my shoes off. The stylist's recommendations are too painful for a long walk. I decided to walk barefeet. I walked all over Yamanote Line to find the station I should be in, and once I'm inside the shinkansen, I doze off.
The shinkansen made the stop that I wanted and I continued walking. When I've arrived at this glass house somewhere in Chiyoda, I have to sputter my words in front of the door.
“It's-ish me, Ja-janine,” my slurred voice said.
The gates opened and so was the door that's a bit too quiet.
“Where have you been off to?”
My head perked at that sound, until I saw Masato in his sleeve and loose necktie. His coat hang on the other seat. He's currently lounging with a glass in hand.
“Is that a brandy?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Sauternes.”
“A wine?”
He nodded before drinking.
“Oh, good timing. Just got a heavy drink. May I have some?”
Masato only gestured his hand.
When I got a glass and found out that this is a good hangover drink, I ended up sitting across him, staring blankly outside the side yard that's filled with different types of bonsai and a traditional landscape that lets us see Fuji-san.
“You're early,” I mumbled. “It's midnight. You usually arrive by 2 in the morning.”
“We had a quick celebration for now. I just got promoted.”
“Oh.” My lips rounded, my interest piqued that my head turned to him. “To what position?”
“Branch Manager.”
“Sacho-san! Sacho-san!” I mimicked our greeting back at the pub.
Masato snickered and shook his head. “What's that about?” He fixed his seat when he reached out for the wine. He poured himself a drink and I stretched mine even though it's still half-glass full. He eventually poured some of mine.
“Betsuni. Just got off visiting the pub. Had a blast with a regular. Drunk and wasted,” I said, taking a gulp from this sweet taste. “This one's good. Where'd you buy it?”
“Bordeaux. Purchased by my secretary.”
“Where? Is that even Nihon?”
Masato shook his head. “France.”
My brain function stops there. “No idea.”
He chuckled and sipped his own cup.
The moonlight has been bright today, I wonder why? Since it strikes through this glass house, it doesn't need the necessary lighting. I can clearly see all the furniture here in the living room.
“How were you promoted so fast?” I muttered, observing some of the dancing tangetsu around the pool.
“Family business. I inherited the responsibility to be removed from the Nakamura's controlling interest.”
I looked away from the pool and stared at this guy. He has one foot on his lap, oscillating. While the wine circled in his hand. His face is as if he's burdened again by another case of global issues.
See, this is where the consequences of that phrase “ignorance is bliss” now apply. Since it turned out to be “ignorance excuses no one” type of oblivion. Not investigating or checking at least some background information on this guy. Not using my nosiness skills to hear rumors about this guy. Right before I jumped to a dumb marriage contract. Because, as it turns out, one can never guess if they legally married themselves to a mafia boss.
“You still have to pay me that alimony when my contract is over,” I muttered.
Masato chuckled. “Let’s see if we get to that point or let's see if we can have an amicable settlement.”
“Ah…” I raised my glass to him. “I'd say the latter. I don't want to deal with any paper trails. Once I'm out, I'll vanish like a smoke.”
“Why so? Where are you going?”
“Home. Don't know where it will be.” I said, savoring the wine in my tongue. “Probably back in the Philippines. Or not. Go abroad and evaporate, who knows? Like smoke.”
“Try Bordeaux. You'll have a lot of this drink there.”
I smiled at that. ”Now, you're a real genius. Nice one.”
Masato chuckled and removed something out of his pocket. He then opened a tiny box with his palm. “What'd you think about this?”
He showed me a gold necklace with an intricate chrysanthemum design, popping a distinct pink in the middle until it fades to an ombre blue-green around the edges.
“Looks like a design you would give to a lady. Is it?”
“Sou.” Masato returned to his seat. “Just found this one that catches my attention.”
“Marry her.”
Masato laughed. “You're currently occupying the post.”
“Kuso, I think I've earned enough. Maybe I should try to do some honest work these days. Grind like a real hardworker, you know. But I've heard work like a corporate job is not built for a woman, it's built for a man.”
“So I'm left to work overtime while you go drunk around Shinjuku?”
“E…” I wagged my finger, testing his theory. “Don't blame me for that, you gave the offer first. If you audit my paycheck, most of my expenses came from the service I've rendered.”
“Your service is not yet complete, by the way. But there could be a point why there are few female board members. Once she has her children, she's out. Even the women secretaries themselves filed a leave for menstrual pain, it's not efficient.”
“That's just your misogyny and your patriarchal privilege talking. The Reiwa era is when you make the working environment inclusive to all. Not some scandal in Todai medical school where admission exams systemically chooses male candidates.”
“That's a far stretch. I've been abroad for a long time. But that happened?” Masato let down his oscillating foot, and moved slightly on his chair. He swung his head in thought.
I nodded. “It's a man's man's world.”
“Kuso. Not to that level of prejudice. I think I should put the women on the managerial level especially for the food and kitchen.”
“Assign them to a role belonging to the kitchen? You sexist jerk.”
Masato, with his glass, raised both his hands. “There's no offense there. The restaurant in Sakurai Hotels has been our current dispute lately. I would need an insight from an expert.”
I shrugged. “No idea. But it does have a point. If the manager is a woman who takes pride in her work, that's something. What does your restaurant offer anyway?”
Masato poured out his drink then eased back again to his seat as he savored his drink. It took him minutes to reply. “Thai cuisine.”
“Ah. That's nice.” I nodded. “Diverse and wide-ranging. And your manager is a woman who takes pride in her work?”
“Sou.” Masato nodded, growing quiet while mindlessly circling his glass.
“That's better,” I said, sipping my drinks too. “Say, suppose Todai got away with their shenanigans. You'll have male doctors who will soon say, ‘Oh, I know about menstrual cramps, here's your prescription.’ And my response could then be: no you don't. What the fuck do you know? You don't have a womb. But pride before fall, the stubborn horns of these patriarchs really insist to just admit male students and gatekeep the profession to themselves. Like some insecure jerks about to lose their job to AI.”
Masato chuckled. “How did AI get into that picture?”
“It's ChatGPT who drafted my pre-nuptial agreement you signed with your lawyer.”
Masato ended up chuckling before it ended up to an uninterrupted laughter. “You ingenious woman,” he said, before he laughed again until I could see him wiping his eyes as he sighed. He poured out his wine again, raising his glass to me. Tired of sitting for too long, he stood to walk near the window while he drank.
“Now that I think about it, want to hear my sales pitch? Be my first angel investor,” I said, still sitting here in the spot he left behind.
“Not you funding over a hostess branch,” he shot back.
“You misogynist.” I glared at him. “So what about it if I did? Like you're any better? Walking straight to a pub to hire a fake girlfriend and a fictional legal wife? Who knows? I'll teach them ways of catching a real Sacho-san other than randomly calling any man this name.”
Masato with a smug face, not only smirked but gave a challenging look when he turned to face me. “Omoshiroi. How much will my returns be from this investment?
“None. When I get rich, your investment is how I fleeced you.”
His chest rumbles a chuckle again before he tips his glass to me as he turns away to stare outside. He sipped his drink, not making the effort to reply.
“Ma—” I sighed when I emptied my drink. “I'm off to sleep. I still have these occasions to attend. Some fashion show to assess whether I can buy that dress that looks like a cake before Hanazawa-san smirked at my poor taste.”
“You're friends with the Hanazawa Conglomerate’s wife?”
“Sure,” I clipped. “If all eyes are looking, that is. But I might stab her if no one's around.”
“Criminal.”
I shrugged and climbed upstairs afterwards.
When I woke up, I had a massive hangover. I couldn't help but to groan that I ended up calling for a takeout breakfast. I ordered some ramen and udon soup. Just when I assumed to have recovered, my stomach lurched and I ran to a sink and puked.
Now, what did I drink yesterday to make this wasted?
So I slept, then woke up to visit the doctor’s clinic. When I drank the prescription they gave, I got hungry again. I remembered that there's a Thai cuisine around Masato's office, so I came around to eat lunch there.
Free food.
“Okusan, irasshaimase,” the butler greeted.
Ha? I thought Mori-san only called me that? So that's my current ID aside from Sakurai-san?
Okay. I still get to do my job anyway. Right now, I want some food.
“Where's the Thai cuisine around here again?”
The butler ended up guiding me. When he stopped, he made a brief bow before returning. That's when a gorgeous woman met me. She placed both her palms against each other to greet. “Sawadika. May I please introduce our Siam-Nihon fused cuisine?”
Oh, this is truly something. When I observed her again, she's stunning. She has this long black hair where it's carefully tied, with a flower garland pinned as an accessory.
Her smile is so angelic like Yumeko-san.
Matte… sou desu ne.
“Did you just returned from Thailand?” I asked.
The woman smiled. “I am Thai. My name's Thapthim, I'm currently managing the flagship restaurant here. The butler said I have to attend a guest. Madam, would that be you?”
“Ah, ii ya.” I flipped my hand. “I'm an employee who just wants to avail the free foods this hotel offers.”
She smiled and said something in Thai. She gestured her hand. “Please let me help you.”
And that's how I'm placed at a table for one. After a long wait, she arrived. In her leisured yet graceful walk, she brought my meal. “Please enjoy your meal,” she said, placing down the plate.
I smiled when I turned to her, then a tiny flicker caught my eye. Her neck dangled a necklace which I thought was familiar. So while she placed my plate, I managed to observe that it was the same necklace Masato once showed me.
“That's a lovely necklace you have,” I remarked. “Is it custom-made?”
She, however, continued to serve but she blushed. “It's my boyfriend’s.”
Ah…
So Masato has a type...
Heh.
You can't have your first love, so you go on to find her resemblance.
Whatever, Masato.
I made a mental eye-roll. I guess there are things that can never be changed.
When I said my thanks to the manager, I filled my belly to my heart's content and thanked the butler for his hospitality. I got out of Masato's office stomach full and satisfied.
While I was walking afterwards, I spotted a furry animal. It has a fluffy and rounded body running around. Once it turned to face me, I realized it's a tanuki.
This furball with a fuzzy tail kept wobbling side to side. It's a chubby tanuki. It might be busy since it's rushing for some urgent business.
Go shake that furball tail!
Kawaii~
Now that I'm reminded, tanukis are monogamous. You know, when the tanuki shape-shifts to a boy and finds another shape-shifting tanuki girl, they stick to one.
So as the tales go. It's in their nature all along.
I guess so is human nature who shares similar family ancestors with chimpanzees.
Realizing these thoughts with the depth of an aquarium tank, I feel like posting a random quote on X. So I browsed through SNS and I was surprised by the serendipity.
I came across a posted question that I'm enlivened to answer on Yahoo Chiebekuro again. The question posted:
“Which is a better girlfriend or a wife to have? Will it be a Thai or a Filipina? What are their differences? I heard Thai women have softer bodies.”
Here's my enthusiastic answer, smiling with satisfaction:
“Go both and say you love Buddha and bananas. Sawadika on your left arm, putangina on your right arm. Filipinas have a soft side too. First, she breaks your legs and cripples you, then she takes care of you. Filipinas are caring after all, according to my regular clients.
Ma, if both of your wives hate you, at least you lived in a tropical climate. With warm people and sunny smiles.
Daijoubu, they won't argue if you pass away. Both of them can agree they'll just feed you to the crocodiles vibrant in the Southeast Asian swamp.”
[HIATUS]
Reason: internet break, but tnx for reading. I might get back at it again if I find the ***inspiration*** (or so it seems, lol).
