Chapter 44: Lover

Lover

On the way to school, I kept staring at my family budget app on my phone. But maybe because it was still early in the morning, my mind wasn’t sharp, and I struggled to extract any more useful information.

“I get that it’s your hobby, but stop using your phone while walking. It’s dangerous.”

Tachibana-san, walking beside me, scolded me for using my phone while walking.

This was exactly the kind of situation where I should rely on others. Thinking that, I tried to hand my phone to Tachibana-san, but exasperated by my refusal to listen, she gave me a sharp, sidelong glare.

I should stop my investigation here for now.

Putting my phone back into my pocket, I focused on walking beside Tachibana-san.

“Honestly. Keep that up, and you’ll end up addicted to your phone.”

“I’ll be fine. I wasn’t always this obsessed with it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I used to get calls from the manufacturer. My company didn’t provide work phones, so I had to give them my personal number.”

My previous workplace primarily did business with automobile manufacturers. It was a small-to-medium-sized company, much like a town factory, and as was typical in such environments, it chronically lacked proper considerations in areas like employee support.

Automobile manufacturers often operate numerous factories both domestically and internationally, and it’s well known that their work schedules follow company-specific calendars. As a subcontractor, my former workplace had no choice but to align with their schedules. This sometimes meant being forced to work on what should have been holidays. Looking back, it was a work style completely out of sync with modern labor standards.

“So, like my dad and mom, you were working for a black company too.”

There was a time when Tachibana-san reacted with skepticism after I revealed my true identity. But now, she accepted my words without question.

“A black company… Well, yeah. But it wasn’t all bad.”

The Parts Engineering department I used to belong to was especially demanding compared to other departments. For some reason, I was assigned tasks outside my field, like pseudo-sales work, taking measurements, and personally delivering parts to manufacturers—only to be scolded when they didn’t meet standards. I spent most nights working overtime, but it wasn’t completely without reward.

Because I handled such a wide range of tasks, I expanded my network more than most. Enduring the harsh workload and proving my results allowed me to get promoted faster than my peers.

The manufacturers often complained, saying things like, “Call him, call him,” even for tasks unrelated to me. Being called in for unrelated work probably meant I had earned their trust.

“My dad and mom say similar things. People like that are always the first to break down.”

“…Haha.”

Whether it was resentment toward the company or something else, Tachibana-san’s tone carried a trace of bitterness.

Because her parents were always busy, Tachibana-san had been forced to take care of Yuka-chan. Now, she seemed to enjoy it, but it hadn’t always been that way. Considering her past, it wouldn’t be surprising if she harbored a grudge against Japanese society itself.

“…Unfortunately, I never had the chance to raise a child. But if I had, I probably would’ve worked even harder. When you have a child who shares your blood and a wife to support, it’s only natural to want to provide for them.”

“Speaking of which, did you ever have a lover?”

A sudden question.

We had been discussing work with serious intent—why change the topic now? It’s said that girls love talking about romance, but is Tachibana-san the same?

“…No, I didn’t.”

“Not even someone you liked?”

“…Well…”

“So you did.”

I didn’t say anything. I may have hinted at it with my reaction, but I certainly didn’t say anything.

So, Tachibana-san, please stop glaring at me.

More importantly, why do I have to be glared at just for having someone I liked? It almost feels as if Tachibana-san is… jealous.

“What kind of person was she?”

“…She was kind, dependable, and always looked out for others.”

“Hmm. A coworker?”

Of course not. But I said nothing.

“…So, an old lover.”

I kept silent, trying not to let anything show.

“I see.”

For some reason, Tachibana-san was unusually sharp this morning.

I hadn’t said anything, and I had made sure not to let it show on my face. So why did she sound so certain? Is this what they call a woman’s intuition?

Feeling a cold sweat down my back, I averted my gaze from Tachibana-san. If this went on, I’d fall straight into her trap. And I had a feeling she’d glare at me even harder.

Contrary to my growing unease, Tachibana-san lowered her head.

“…How long has it been since you last saw her?”

“I don’t intend to answer that.”

After saying it, I realized I should have dodged the question by pretending my feelings were long gone.

“…I get it.”

“Yeah.”

“If you ever feel like talking about it, let me know.”

I doubt that day will ever come.

I had no choice but to reveal the truth about my true past to Tachibana-san in order to gain her cooperation. But from now on, I intend to live as Iori. Perhaps, one day, even my past self will fade away from my own memory.

“At least, tell me.”

It seems Tachibana-san saw right through the loneliness I tried to hide.

I had chosen to share my secret with Tachibana-san in exchange for her cooperation.

From the moment I did, perhaps it was inevitable that she would eventually come to know everything about my past self.

“Alright. Someday, I’ll tell you.”

But for now… I don’t think that time has come yet.

We continued walking down the familiar path to school, taking our time as if lingering in the moment.