"Nnn..."
Ai-chan shifted restlessly in Aichi’s arms. As Aichi hurriedly patted her back to soothe her, the little girl buried her cheek deeper into Aichi's chest to get comfortable and drifted back into a peaceful slumber. Lucky Ai-chan...
Wait, that wasn't the point!
"What exactly did you pull...?" Aichi’s voice trembled with suppressed rage as she pressed for answers.
"Seriously, isn't that a bit too guilty?" I added. I felt the same way. All that worrying I’d done earlier made me feel like an idiot, and now something was starting to simmer inside me.
Sajocchi didn’t even glance at the enviably scandalous sight of Ai-chan. Instead, he sat up straight on the sofa and stared awkwardly down at his knees. His expression practically screamed, Why did I open my mouth? If he thought he could backtrack now, he had another thing coming.
"Um, let's just pretend you didn't hear that..."
"No way," Aichi snapped.
"Not happening," I agreed.
You don't get to say something that shocking and then just ask for a do-over. We were going to make him spit it out, no matter what. Making a girl perform a dogeza was a big deal. Since when did Sajocchi become that kind of guy?
"......Um, well."
"Talk. Tell us everything."
Aichi was being forceful now. I was usually the one pushing, but her switch had been flipped completely. That supportive, "I want to be there for you" look she’d had earlier was gone. From an outsider's perspective, maybe he didn't strictly have to say anything, but this felt different—like a family crisis. I couldn't let it go until I knew the truth.
"First off, is it your fault, Sajocchi?"
"Ugh... well, you could call it a tragedy born from not considering the other person's personality."
"Is she a quiet girl...?"
"......"
Sajocchi gave a small nod. Aichi pinned him with a piercing gaze, and I probably wasn't looking much friendlier. I mean, we were talking about a quiet girl, right? I couldn't imagine someone like that causing enough trouble to warrant a dogeza. It felt more like Sajocchi had bullied her into it.
Aichi’s eyes grew even sharper.
We both fell silent. Honestly, I didn't want Sajocchi to think he could escape. Cowering was useless. Since he’d said this much, I wouldn't be satisfied until he spilled every last detail. If he kept quiet now, it would be the kind of thing that could actually ruin our friendship.
As we stared him down, Sajocchi’s demeanor shifted. He straightened up, his expression turning serious. It seemed he’d finally decided to be honest with us. I felt a small wave of relief; somewhere in my heart, I’d been worried he might shut us out.
"......This might be a bit of a difficult story, but—"
Sajocchi began to explain. The more I listened, the more I realized it wasn't a trivial matter at all. He made sure to explain things in a way that was easy for us to follow, considering Aichi and I had never worked part-time jobs.
I was surprised and a little bewildered. Seeing Sajocchi talk about something so seriously was new. Knowing him, I’d assumed the reason would be something stupid, and the fact that he was actually taking his job so seriously was unexpected. That was a bit rude of me to think, though.
I glanced over at Aichi. She was listening intently. Unlike me, she didn't seem to have any weird preconceptions. She already knew this serious side of him, didn't she? Well, of course. They’d known each other since middle school. It was only natural they’d seen sides of one another that I hadn’t.
Both Sajocchi and Aichi wore their hearts on their sleeves, yet they were so dense when it came to each other's feelings. I’d thought that I, watching them from the side, understood them better than anyone. Maybe I’d been getting a bit ahead of myself.
Aichi looked a little sad as she stroked Ai-chan's head.
"So you... well, you got emotional..."
"......Well, I guess that's what happened......"
I’d seen an emotional Sajocchi once before. It was back when he and his sister, Kaede, were arguing on the roof. That was clearly an extreme situation, and at the time I’d just been shocked that he could even make his voice that low. I’d been so stunned I forgot the guilt of eavesdropping. It was such an abnormal situation that I didn't really think twice about the vibe, but now...
"Well, anyway, that's my dilemma. I'm wondering what to do starting tomorrow..."
"......" "......"
Nothing came to mind. The story was clear enough, but since I’d never worked, I couldn't say anything about customer service. Plus, I rarely dealt with introverted girls like that. There weren't any quiet types in the Volleyball Club, and I knew that if I tried to force a conversation out of pity, they’d probably just find me annoying.
But since it was a job, Sajocchi had to communicate with her even if it was a struggle, right? I’d never even considered that things like that happened in the real world.
"Right! That's my dilemma! It's 100% my fault! See, Ashida?! I deal with problems like this too!"
"Wah?! E-er... yeah! That sounds rough, Sajocchi!"
"Don't just say 'it sounds rough,' just kill me already... Aah, no, I want to die..."
"S-Sajocchi, cheer up!"
Sajocchi slid down against the sofa, trying to force the mood back to its usual lightness. It was a vibe I was familiar with. I couldn't think of a solution, so all I could do was match his energy and offer some hollow encouragement. But that wasn't what I wanted; I really wanted to be of some help to him.
At the very least, I didn't think it was entirely his fault. But it was so complicated that I didn't know how to step in.
"It’s not just your fault," Aichi said suddenly.
Both Sajocchi and I turned to her. She had her hand to her forehead, looking at him with a mix of frustration and thought. She seemed to be working through the details, determined to wrap her head around the situation.
"......Huh?"
"I don't know exactly how to put it, but... from what I've heard, if that girl could communicate like a normal person, this wouldn't have happened. You were just trying to push her to do better as her senior at work, right?"
"......Well. Yeah, I guess..."
I didn't think you'd take my side. The look on Sajocchi's face said it all. He’d been slumping off the sofa like a man awaiting execution, but he immediately pulled himself back up and straightened his posture. He still looked completely caught off guard.
"You had... a good reason..."
"......"
This time, Aichi looked away to hide her face. She didn't look sad anymore—to me, she looked shy. Wait, hold on.
"Aichi. Was that... was that encouragement?"
"Wha—!? Why would you say that!"
"I mean, if you just take the words literally, it was an objective opinion."
She hadn't focused on who was at fault; she was telling him, "It's not just your fault, so cheer up." It was so hard to tell with her! I only realized it when I saw the look on her face. I'd wondered for a second why she was blushing, and then it clicked. I didn't expect to see Aichi’s tsundere side at a time like this.
"......I see."
"T-That's right."
Sajocchi was looking at Aichi with a lovestruck, dreamy expression. Oh boy, were they going to start flirting now? If I hadn't pointed it out, he probably wouldn't even have noticed. They both owed me one. Honestly...
Sajocchi seemed to have found his second wind. It was subtle, but Aichi had managed to comfort him. I felt like I should do something too... though, at the end of the day, he did still make a girl do a dogeza. That was a whole different issue.
But thinking about it, maybe the "job" part wasn't the core of the problem. This could happen in a club, too. Like, someone joins of their own volition but then starts whining because they can't handle the training? And then when you scold them, they drop into a dogeza?
"......Wait?"
Thinking about it that way, something felt off. Normally, wouldn't someone like that get angry, or sulk, or just stop showing up because it's awkward? At the very least, they’d just quit, right?
"What is it?"
"Why didn’t that girl just quit?"
"Eh?"
"Wouldn't it have been easier to just walk away?"
Sajocchi had even said so himself—that she’d probably be happier if she did. There was a perfect escape route right in front of her, yet she’d insisted she didn't want to quit. There had to be a reason. Why would an introverted girl stay, even if it meant humiliating herself like that?
Sajocchi put a hand to his head, looking troubled. He’d been so shaken by the dogeza that he hadn't even thought to ask her for a reason.
"I might be wrong, but I don't think I’d get along with her either. But if we knew why she stayed, wouldn't it all start to make sense?"
"T-True... but how do I find out?"
"If you give up now, it's over. I think you just have to ask her."
"Ugh..."
Maybe I’d just given him an impossible task. But trying to be someone's mentor without understanding them at all sounded like a nightmare. Looking back, I realized I’d barged into my juniors' private lives plenty of times when I was in middle school.
"Then... I'll use it."
"......Eh?"
"Huh?"
Aichi spoke up suddenly. Use what?
"Wataru's 'punishment'... I'm using it."
Wait, Aichi?