Lovers

20

No Need for Cynicism

“Welcome. Another cafe latte today?”

When I greeted him warmly, Riegel’s face became subtle. He looked at my face silently before answering. After examining me intently as if trying to find something, he finally smiled and said, “Hmm.” What’s this? Now that I’m actually being friendly, he looks displeased?

“A gift.”

I had only tried to match his pretense of friendliness a little, but he immediately closed the distance. Ah, right. Damn, let’s do this quasi-romance or quasi-friendship thing, fine.

“A gift?”

What Riegel handed over was a round thermos. I’ve used many thermoses due to my job, but this was by far the most luxurious one I’ve ever seen.

What is this, really? I asked him with my eyes.

“Onion soup. I thought you might have drunk a lot yesterday.”

“…Huh?”

It’s true that I drank a lot and my head is still a bit dizzy, but receiving hangover food from you seems really strange.

This must be the limit of human capability. My will is filled with the determination to take the seat next to Riegel no matter what. But my behavior pattern can only manage to blink stupidly.

What kind of relationship do we have that he’d bring hangover soup?

Viviana and Baral’s gazes are intense. Oh my, were we already something? Their eyes were asking.

No, we’re not anything yet. Not yet. We’re just about to become something…

“Was the alcohol okay?”

You two drank together?!

Baral and Viviana’s gazes were so hot that I unconsciously squirmed a bit. Riegel looked at me as if asking what I was doing, so I mumbled, “Ah, mosquitoes, there must be mosquitoes.” Then Riegel checked his phone and said,

“It’s minus 10 degrees Celsius?”

“Ah, right. The mosquitoes are persistent.”

Even though I said they were persistent, Baral and Viviana’s gazes wouldn’t leave. I had no choice but to steel myself, not on my face but on my back. While I was doing this, Riegel was contemplating his order.

He takes forever to order every time. Just say it clearly. Americano! Like that.

“You said lemon tea was too sweet… It doesn’t seem like you sell green tea. Then peppermint?”

“The best-selling item in our store is Americano, perhaps…?”

When I recommended the best menu item, Riegel shook his head.

“Do even Rotman people drink that damn Americano these days?”

While younger people like Americano and older people dislike it as a sacrilege to coffee… This guy is only 31 years old but talks about ‘damn Americano’.

“Young people like it.”

I indirectly criticized him for sounding like an old fogy, but Riegel’s expression didn’t change.

“Forget coffee, peppermint. To go.”

“That’ll be 257 leed.”

“By card.”

It was a different card from last time. Once on the reader for Riegel, once on the normal reader. After swiping it twice like that and handing it back, Riegel smiled.

“That’s unusual.”

Even though there was no way he could see it, Riegel spoke as if he knew I had swiped his card twice. I remember his reaction was unusual last time too. He didn’t take the card I was returning, he just kept smiling.

Why isn’t he taking it? Just as I was rolling my eyes,

“Did you change the card reader?”

“…The reader?”

I felt like my heart dropped to the floor. He mentioned the reader so precisely. When I looked up at him quizzically, he shrugged.

“My secretary said he had been here before and that you used a reader where you insert the card directly. But with me, it’s always like this.”

Riegel took the card from my hand.

“I give you the card, and then take it back.”

“Some customers complained that their cards were getting damaged and blamed our store’s reader, so we changed it… Is there a problem?”

I just hope I’m speaking well. That my expression is nonchalant. That the lie I just made up makes sense.

Damn, how do those operation team guys do this? My heart pounds every time I tell a lie.

“Well, no problem.”

It seemed like there was a hidden “for now” in his words. I managed to smile at Riegel.

Before Riegel left the cafe, I tried to transfer the onion soup to another container and wash the thermos to return it, but Viviana glared at me.

“Are you kidding? Just leave it!”

But I need to return the thermos…

Even when I tried to return it, Viviana wouldn’t give it back, clutching my thermos to her chest in the kitchen. Even when I told her to give it back, she hissed like a wildcat. Why? There wasn’t time for a long conversation as the peppermint tea was cooling by the second. In the end, I could only hand over the paper cup with the tea and give an apologetic smile.

“Can I return the thermos later?”

“Are you going to bring it to my home?”

Wow.

Only then did I realize Ms. Viviana’s deep intention.

Ah, right. I can use the thermos as an excuse to visit Riegel’s house!

I nodded solemnly.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after receiving food.”

Riegel said, “How nice,” and patted my head with the hand not holding the peppermint tea. It was a gesture like praising a child. I was dumbfounded. Riegel and I were only three years apart. Even without that, patting an adult man’s head? In Rotman, no less? That’s asking for a punch in the face.

But looking at Riegel’s face, I thought maybe it’s okay. If it weren’t for last night, I might have gotten annoyed, but didn’t he stand in front of my house last night? His cheeks flushed red from standing in the cold for a long time, the alcohol he handed me, the black sleep that alcohol brought… Thinking of those things made me want to let the head pat slide.

“I’ll leave my address on your phone.”

You mean the phone number you know without me ever telling you.

In fact, he knew my phone number before I did. He doesn’t know my real number, and at the point when he knew the phone number of “aspiring barista Armin Schnieke,” I didn’t know that number. I memorized that number later.

When I nodded, Riegel held up the peppermint tea once. Resolving all the words like “I’ll enjoy it” or “goodbye” with a single gesture, he turned and left. As the cafe door opened, I could see men standing outside. Riegel’s guards and the man who came to pick him up last time Riegel visited the cafe.

Ah, is that man the secretary?

“Viviana.”

As I entered the kitchen, Viviana narrowed her eyes and said,

“How could you give the thermos now! Don’t you know how precious such an excuse is-“

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t think of it. I’ve never dated before.”

At my words, Viviana started to say something but stopped with an “Oh.” A flash of pity crossed her face. People always make this face when I say I’ve never dated. I’ve tried to protest before, saying I could have dated! But people’s reactions never changed.

I don’t say such things anymore. I know it’s meaningless.

Instead, I asked what I wanted to know.

“Who is this man?”

There were monitors densely installed on one side of the kitchen. Pointing to a man captured on one of the monitors, I asked, and Viviana answered with an “Ah.”

“He’s Sebastian Riegel’s secretary. David Nakaban.”

So it is that man.

“What kind of person is he?”

“Nakaban? Born into an ordinary family, studied well as usual, entered Riegel Bank, caught someone’s eye and became Sebastian’s secretary… Someone who studies well and has good sense?”

Viviana kept rustling around, so when I turned my head, she was opening the thermos and scooping out the onion soup. She poured most of the onion soup into a bowl for me and was putting some into an evidence collection container.

“Are you going to analyze the onion soup?”

“How would we know if anything will come up?”

The Security Bureau is going overboard. Every time we request analysis for things like onion soup, the police receive their urgent analyses a day, a week, or even later. Does Viviana Dogen have too little experience to understand this?

Originally, when you enter the Security Bureau, you develop a Security Bureau disease. It’s like a disease that makes your neck stiff. For a one-year employee, it would be about time for the disease to become serious and start causing trouble. The really funny thing about this disease is that you want to brag about working at the Security Bureau, but since you can’t say your workplace is the Security Bureau, you end up bragging to your coworkers. I work at the Security Bureau too, me too! – You have to endure the desire to say this and wait for the disease to heal. Still, Viviana is quite decent.

I was smiling awkwardly, not sure how to tell an employee from another department to tone it down, when Baral, who had just entered, heard Viviana’s words and looked exasperated. Meeting my eyes, he smiled as if understanding my feelings and took the evidence collection container from Viviana.

“Stop it and go mind the cafe.”

“No, what do you mean stop? In this soup-“

“There’s nothing in this soup. It’s not like they’re trying to poison you, what would they put in it? Don’t request analysis just because we’re the Security Bureau. Do you know how many analysis requests are piled up? While we’re analyzing this stupid onion soup, really important evidence gets pushed back. Is it right that the things we urgently need get pushed back because of your one in ten million chance?”

At Baral’s words, Viviana’s eyes widened. She seemed to finally realize that her requests as a Security Bureau agent were given priority, and as a result, someone else’s requests were being delayed. She awkwardly moved her lips.

Well, she probably wasn’t unaware. It’s just that in moments like this, it’s hard to remember that while she’s always given priority, someone else is being pushed back.

“…I’ll go watch the customers.”

As Viviana left the kitchen, looking strangely deflated, Baral looked at me and smiled, almost grimacing.

“She’s a good kid, but she’s caught the Security Bureau disease…”

I couldn’t say “I know,” so I just smiled. Only I can criticize my own people. I wouldn’t stand for others badmouthing my team members, so Baral would be the same. Especially for a team member he keeps close during an operation, he must be quite fond of her.

“Anyway, thanks to Viviana, we now have an excuse to visit Riegel’s house.”

At my words, Baral clicked his tongue.

“It’s unclear whether we got an excuse or they threw us bait.”

“Whether it’s a trap or an invitation, we’re in a situation where we can’t back down.”

I need to find out about the fate of my team members too. If Volkari gets confirmation from the Director, I’ll be able to maintain my identity. When Layer can’t touch me anymore, I might be able to do something.

The important things in situations like this are often in the details. Don’t despair, don’t get impatient, make quick judgments. More important than that is taking careful steps. Believing that my team members will hold on, gritting my teeth and believing.

Yes, faith. Holding onto something intangible, inaudible, like a bubble in your heart and enduring. That’s what I need to do now. No need for despair or cynicism.

I aggressively put the onion soup in my mouth. Let’s eat anything and gain strength.

I’ve despaired enough, now it’s time to run.