The Beautiful Kuudere Woman Who Always Reads Books While Standing Next to Me at the Laundromat Turns Out to Be the Vice President of One of Our Clients
The weekend matchmaking event caused a lot of unexpected glitches in my otherwise quiet daily life.
Minato Keiichiro. When I think about him, my thought process doesn’t seem to function as usual.
Why did I write his name on the ballot for the matchmaking event? I can’t find any logical reason.
Was it because he was the most conversational and least unpleasant of the men at the venue? That’s part of it. But it’s not just that. He’s clumsy, serious, and sometimes strangely perceptive.
Even during meetings and code reviews, I find myself trying to figure out the source of the uneasiness that occasionally arises in my heart. It’s a mental stiffness, a “heart stiffness.” It’s not love, I think.
On that Monday afternoon, as I was repeating such self-questioning, a person approached my desk with the force of a storm. It was Tanaka san.
“Tsukishima san ! Thank you for participating in the matchmaking event the other day ! Did you find anyone you liked?”
“…Well, sort of. I did get their contact information through the voting system.”
I answered with a poker face, intending to tease her a little. It didn’t mean much. Just a whim.
But her reaction far exceeded my expectations.
“Eeeeeh !? R-really !?”
Her scream echoed through the quiet office. The engineers around us all turned to look at us.
“Hey, Tanaka san, keep your voice down…”
“B-but Tsukishima san, at just one matchmaking event…! I mean, I knew she was popular, but Tsukishima san seemed so out of reach…but you did it ! You did it, Vice President ! Keep it up, and let’s forget about that ex-boyfriend, Minato san, once and for all ! It’s time for a new love, an upgrade !”
…She still believed that rumor. And what does “upgrade” even mean? It hasn’t even started yet.
I sighed deeply inside, but I didn’t feel the energy or necessity to correct this misunderstanding. Instead, I thought it would be more constructive to use this situation to resolve a question I had always wondered about.
“…So, Tanaka san…”
I turned to her with a serious expression.
“”hen you get someone’s contact information, what should you do first? I mean, the initial handshake, or the protocol for human relationships—I’m not quite sure about that.”
At my question, Tanaka Jun looked as startled as a pigeon hit by a pea shooter.
“Eh….? Um…Protocol, you say….?”
“Yeah. Jumping straight into the main topic is rude, right? But if you just make a generic greeting, it might get ignored. What’s the best first move?”
My serious question made Tanaka san freeze for a few seconds before she finally seemed to reboot.
“Hmm…how about dinner? Let’s invite them to dinner first !”
“Dinner… I see. Got it. I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Y-yes ! Good luck !”
Tanaka san saluted for some reason, then returned to her seat, still looking a little confused.
Alone, I opened the messaging app on my personal smartphone.
Dinner, huh. I always eat dinner alone, and Minato san probably does too, so I’ll invite him.
What if he refuses? …Well, I’ll deal with that when it happens. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll analyze the cause and think of another approach.
I made up my mind and launched the chat app. I cut out all the unnecessary decorations and roundabout introductions and typed just one sentence.
[Let’s go out to eat.]
I pressed the send button. My fingertips trembled just a little. It must be because my shoulders are stiff.
◆
My mind was filled with the events of the weekend.
My interactions with Tsukishima san at the matchmaking event. And the fact that she had written my name down. The faint hope that arose from that, and the rational voice scolding me for being overly self-conscious, clashed endlessly like an infinite loop.
I should focus on work. As I turned back to my PC with that thought, my smartphone in my pocket vibrated gently.
It must be a work-related message from someone at the office. Thinking that, I checked the screen nonchalantly, but my breath caught in my throat for a moment.
The display showed just one word.
[Minato san, let’s go out to eat.]
The sender was Tsukishima Shiori.
…Eh?
In my head, question marks and exclamation points flashed like error codes. Was this what the world called a ‘date’ invitation? Or was there some other purpose beyond my understanding?
We’re talking about her. Maybe she wanted to ‘thoroughly discuss the weaknesses in Kirishima Jo’s latest plot while eating.’
But no matter how I simulated the possibilities, there was only one answer I could give.
With trembling fingers, I typed out my reply.
[Got it. When should we meet?]
A few seconds after sending it, the reply came back immediately.
[Tonight.]
……Tonight !?
The sudden turn of events left me frozen once again.
That night, after finishing work, I headed to the designated meeting place, feeling somewhat detached from reality. The location was not a fancy restaurant or a bar with a view of the night sky—it was the usual coin laundry. The time was also the usual late night.
Tsukishima san was already there, wearing her usual casual hoodie, fiddling with her smartphone while waiting for me. Seeing her made me feel strangely relieved.
“…Good evening, Tsukishima san. “
“Hm. Good evening, Minato san.”
She looked up at me with her usual slightly lazy yet somehow cheerful expression.
“Minato san, I’m sorry for inviting you so suddenly. But they say ‘better late than never.’”
“They also say ‘haste makes slow progress.’”
“Well, what does ‘haste makes slow progress’ even mean?”
“Isn’t that the one that helps relieve stress?”
“No, that’s GABA.””
“Ah…that’s it, that. The business hotel is often used for affairs.”
“No, that’s APA.”
The two of us smiled and stood side by side.
“Well, about that…where are we going to eat? Did you make a reservation or something?”
I asked, feeling a little nervous. I had brought my jacket, but Tsukishima san’s outfit was too casual.
Tsukishima tilted her head in confusion at my question.
“Eh? Reservation? Why? Well, it’s just dinner.”
“Eh, no, I mean, just in case ! Well, I came empty-handed too !”
“Hmm. I know a ramen shop around here that’s open late and has amazingly delicious ramen. Ten-Zetsu.”
“Tenka Zetsu?”
“Hmm. Yeah. The rich broth is irresistible.”
A chain ramen shop.
Her suggestion was so unexpected and so typical of her that I couldn’t help but laugh.
“A ramen shop, huh. That’s great, I think it’s a great idea.”
“Right? Then it’s settled. This way.”
Saying that, Tsukishima san nodded contentedly and started walking briskly.
As I followed her, I thought that if this was our first ‘date’ a late-night ramen shop was pretty much our style and not a bad choice.
The streets we walked through after 2 a.m., led by Tsukishima san, were eerily quiet, as if the daytime chaos had been a lie. Occasionally, the sound of a taxi engine speeding by and the sound of our shoes hitting the wet asphalt were the only sounds that echoed clearly.
“…Why does ramen taste so much better when you eat it late at night?”
The silence felt a little awkward, so I blurted out that mundane question.
“Hmm… Maybe it’s because of the strongest spice of all: guilt.”
Tsukishima san answered casually, still facing forward.
“Guilt, huh. I see. The guilt of it being unhealthy, making you fat, giving you an upset stomach the next morning… That guilt somehow messes with your taste buds and amplifies the flavor, right?”
“Exactly. Humans are designed to find forbidden things more appealing. Late-night ramen is like a forbidden backdoor command that the system doesn’t recommend. In that sense, it’s the same mechanism as an affair.”
“So, eating ramen at an APA is the tastiest?”
“Fufu…with your affair partner.”
I chuckled, and she smiled softly, “Well, who you eat with might matter.”
As we exchanged such aimless conversation, Tsukishima san said, “We’re here.” pointing to a store along the main street and stopping.
“It was here all along.”
“…Yeah. It stays open late, so I often come here.”
The two of us sat at a table and ordered ramen, waiting for a while.
“Minato san, you were late again today? There are days when you dress casually for business, huh? You always wear a suit.”
Well, it’s appropriate attire for a place like this!
“Ah…ahaha…well, I switch it up depending on the customer. At your company, a more formal look seems more professional, but at places like banks that are too formal, I sometimes go for a more relaxed style.”
“Heh…”
While waiting for the ramen, a comfortable silence flowed between us—a silence without conversation, but never awkward. She stared intently at the well-used pepper shaker on the counter, as if it were a rare piece of craftsmanship. I couldn’t help but steal another glance at her profile.
Suddenly, she seemed to notice my gaze and turned toward me. Our eyes met, and I quickly looked away.
“Hey, Minato san. I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“If someone says, ‘Let’s have dinner,’ does that mean they’re asking you out to dinner?”
“Hmm…it depends on the context, but let’s assume it’s between adults. In that case, I think the standard approach would be to have dinner at a quiet place where you can have a calm conversation, and where you can drink alcohol without feeling awkward.”
“But it’s called ‘dinner’?”
“Even though it’s called ‘dinner,’ right? I think talking is more important than the food itself.”
“Oh…I see…”
Tsukishima san opened her eyes wide, as if he had finally figured out the cause of a long-standing, unexplained bug, and blushed with embarrassment at his own ignorance.
“Well, there’s beer, and there aren’t many people, so Ten-Zetsu fits the definition.”
“I see…but there’s already a place where we can talk calmly with Minato san, right?”
“The laundromat?”
“Yeah. I think the optimal solution is to bring alcohol and snacks there and wait for the laundry to finish.”
“Can you add ‘suitability for its original purpose’ to the evaluation parameters !?”
“Ten-Zetsu has become the optimal solution.”
As we were talking, the ramen arrived. Tsukishima san was looking happily at the noodles she had pulled out of the thick soup.
“Hey, Minato san. Let’s go out to eat again sometime.”
“We are eating.”
“No, I mean eating to determine if you’re someone worth having sex with.”
“Tsukishima san !?”
When I looked up in shock, Tsukishima san chuckled. She was teasing me.
“No, I’m joking. But…yeah, you have a point. It’s a meal as a journey to find the source of the discomfort.”
“Then we need a companion for the journey.”
“Hmm. Yeah. Craft beer or wine, that kind of thing, right?”
“You catch on quickly…”
Tsukishima san, trying to hide her embarrassment, said, “Chew your food well.” and slurped her ramen.
Maigetsu