Volume 1
Chapter 3: The Gears of Fate Begin to Turn (Part2)
● The Tsundere Office Lady’s Tears ●○●
The lecture I had with Koumi wrapped up. Today’s not Friday, my usual shift at the bar, so normally I’d hit the basketball court or kill some time before heading home. But then Aika-san texted me: “Sorry, we’re short one person today. Can you come in on short notice?” So, off to the bar I go.
A shift’s a shift, and I’m not complaining—extra cash is always welcome when you’ve got student loans to pay off. It’s Wednesday, so the regular, Seira-san, probably won’t show. I’ll likely be stuck on reception or mixing drinks in the back. If I’m not dealing with customers, I can just wear the staff uniform, no fuss, no muss.
“Evening, everyone!”
It’s just past 6 p.m. The bar’s already open, but the break room’s nearly empty. Only one person’s here—a senior coworker fixing his hair in front of the mirror. He notices me and grins.
“Yo, Masato! Been a minute, huh? Heard you snagged a regular customer. Not bad, man!”
“Hey, Yusuke-san. Just got lucky, that’s all…”
“You’re a different vibe from us, but I bet you’d be a hit with the ladies. Too bad Aika-san’s got you locked in for Fridays only!”
Yusuke-senpai’s the guy who showed me the ropes when I first started. Out of everyone here, he’s got this old-school charm—kinda flashy, but in a good way. He’s not some arrogant jerk when it comes to women, and he’s got a solid personality. I respect him a lot. Well, except for his obsession with women and the insane dating stories he’s racked up. Those are… something else.
“…Whoa, what’s with the bandage?” I ask, noticing a light wrap around his right arm.
“Oh, this? Got roughed up by my girlfriend the other day. Watch yourself, man! Haha!”
Classic Yusuke. I chuckle, but then he waves me over. “Hey, Masato, c’mere a sec.”
“Huh? What’s up?”
He gestures for me to sit, grabbing the wax he was using earlier.
“I’m telling you, an all-back hairstyle would kill on you. Just for today, let me style you. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”
“Uh… really?”
“C’mon, man! I’m in beauty school, you know? I got this.”
Well, it’s not like Seira-san’s coming today. If she saw me with some goofy all-back style, she’d probably say, “Masato-kun, no way that’s your look!” Getting roasted by a regular who specifically requests me? Yeah, that’d sting.
“Just for today, okay?”
“You got it, buddy!” Yusuke grins, pulling out gel wax and a hair iron from his bag.
I’m not convinced this’ll suit me, but whatever.
---
“Masato! Table three wants two gin highballs!”
“On it!”
As expected, even on a Wednesday, the bar’s pretty busy—not weekend-level chaos, but enough to keep us moving. We’ve got some hardcore regulars who show up every single day.
I mix the drinks as ordered and head to the table. “Here you go, sorry for the wait…”
“Be my man!”
“Haha, c’mon, quit joking around!”
…Yeah, they’re not even looking at me. Probably for the best. I clear their empty glasses and slip back to the kitchen. This kind of thing? Total routine.
While I’m washing glasses at the sink, Yusuke pokes his head in, looking frazzled. “Masato, sorry, but can you run to the drugstore by the station and grab some toilet paper? We’re out!”
Running out of toilet paper is a crisis. Did someone skip the bathroom check last night or what?
“Got it! I’m on my way!”
“Thanks, man! Everyone’s tied up with customers right now. Card’s over there—grab a receipt!”
“Will do!”
I dry my hands and head out. This hairstyle and uniform make me feel a bit self-conscious walking around, but oh well.
---
It’s already dark outside, and the station area’s packed with office workers and students heading home. It’s not some massive urban hub, but there’s enough foot traffic that you’ve gotta watch your step to avoid bumping into people.
“Gotta make this quick and get back…”
I’m not exactly thrilled to be strolling through this crowd looking like this. Let’s just buy the stuff and hightail it back to the bar. But right as I spot the drugstore, I hear a voice.
“Um… I dropped my contact lens… I’m so sorry…”
A girl’s crouched by the roadside, crying. I don’t know if she’s crying because she lost her contact or if something else is going on, but the way everyone around her just walks by without a glance? It’s hard to ignore.
I can’t just pretend I didn’t see her.
“Hey, you okay? A contact lens, right? I’ll help you look.”
“Huh…?” She looks up, teary-eyed. “Thank you… so much…”
With one contact missing, her vision’s probably shot. No matter how good her eyesight normally is, searching in this state’s gotta be rough. Lucky for her, my vision’s pretty sharp—I should be able to spot it faster.
“Excuse me, we’re looking for a contact lens!” I call out to the crowd, then pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. I get down on the ground, scanning the pavement. No big deal. I’m in my work uniform anyway—nothing a wash won’t fix. Sorry, Aika-san!
About a minute into the search, I spot a tiny, glinting contact lens on the ground.
“Found it! Here it is!”
“…”
Carefully, I pick it up and place it on a handkerchief from my pocket. I walk over to the girl. Her semi-long black hair has red highlights underneath, and despite her tear-streaked face, her eyes are a striking, clear blue—a sharp contrast to her hair. Even in this mess, she’s probably super cute under normal circumstances.
But I only catch a glimpse before she looks away, head down, probably embarrassed about her crying face.
“Here you go. Be careful with it.”
“Thank you… so much.”
“Oh, don’t worry about returning the handkerchief. See ya!”
“W-Wait, hold on a second!”
…Man, I was this close to pulling off a cool, dramatic exit! I turn back to her.
“…”
…Huh? Didn’t she just call out to me?
“Uh, sorry, I’m kinda in a rush!”
“…Oh.”
It sucks to brush her off, but duty calls. She’s got her lens back, so she should be fine now, right? Yup! Feels good to do a good deed! I grab the toilet paper, pay, and hustle back to the bar.
“Back!”
“Whoa, took you long enough. Was it packed?”
“Yeah, super crowded!”
I head to the bathroom, restock the toilet paper, and give the place a quick clean. As I go to mark my name on the checklist…
“Huh? Where’s my pen?”
I could’ve sworn I had a ballpoint pen in my chest pocket last week, but it’s gone. Oh well, there’s gotta be another one around. I don’t think much of it and grab a new pen from the back.
Then—
“Masato! Get changed, now!”
“…Huh?”
“You’ve got a request! Your regular’s here, and she’s asking for you!”
Seira-san? I told her I’m usually only here on Fridays. Wait, maybe she requested me but was gonna switch to another host if I wasn’t around?
“Got it!”
“I’ll seat her at table two. Hurry up!”
“Yes, sir!”
I toss my uniform in the locker and change into my customer-facing suit, ready to roll.
---
After a lightning-fast wardrobe change that’d make an idol group jealous, I grab a glass and some ice and head to table two. There, as expected, is a woman in a stiff, formal suit, looking as tense as ever.
“Evening, Seira-san. Back again, huh?”
“…Heh.”
Wait, she seems off. Her ponytail’s drooping like it’s lost all energy, and her cheeks look gaunt. She’s still gorgeous, but… is she exhausted from work? If that’s the case, my job’s to cheer her up. Time to step up.
“I was surprised, though. You said you only come on Fridays.”
“…I saw you heading into the bar from outside…”
“Oh, gotcha! I was just running an errand. Wasn’t supposed to be on customer duty today, so I was in my uniform. Kinda embarrassing, honestly…”
Normally, when I talk, she’s either staring at me or looking away nervously, but today she’s just… staring at the table. Yikes, she’s really down.
“Hey, it’s okay. You can let it all out here, say whatever’s on your mind. I don’t know what happened, Seira-san, but… I actually kinda like listening to you talk, you know.”
“…!”
Her hands, resting on her lap, clench tightly. Whatever’s going on, it must be rough.
“Sorry… I’m so sorry…” she mumbles.
“…Huh?”
I notice something dripping onto the back of her hand. Seira-san’s crying.
“I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry… I…”
Seeing her like this, it’s like her pain’s hitting me too. Before I know it, I’m reaching out, gently rubbing her back.
“It’s okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but… you’re not the bad girl here, Seira-san. You’re a good person.”
Even as I say it, the words feel hollow. We’ve only known each other for a little over a month, meeting once a week at most. Usually, she’s tipsy, venting about her job or her ex, letting off steam. But she’s helped me out when I was in a pinch, and I’ve seen her real, unfiltered self here. I can’t bring myself to dislike her.
Her words might come off sharp sometimes, but deep down, she’s kind. So even if my words are empty, if they can help her even a little, I want to be there for her.
As I keep rubbing her back, she leans closer. Our shoulders touch, and her small head rests on my shoulder.
…Uh, if someone sees this, I might be in trouble. But, like, I can probably explain it away. Maybe.
I can’t just push her away when she’s like this. “It’s okay, Seira-san. I know you’re a kind person.”
“…I’m sorry… I’m the worst kind of woman…!”
As I comfort her, a question nags at me. Every time I’m gentle with her, every time we get closer like this… why does it feel like Seira-san’s crying even harder?
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