One Room with the Female Boss I Hate
On the way to the restaurant, I asked Matsuhira Ginichiro about Nagumo Sian. Even if I couldn’t win her favor like the other three successors, I at least wanted to avoid earning her dislike.
“Hmm…! To put it in a single phrase, Nagumo Sian is a yokai of a woman.”
What is this old man even saying? As president of a Taira Group subsidiary, she could obliterate the head of a talent development institute branch with nothing but his breath. Calling her a yokai seemed far too reckless.
“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t mean anything strange by it. I don’t know her exact age, but her face was identical when she ran that small confectionery company called Kanmido twenty years ago, when she became president of Taira Foods fifteen years ago, and even now with her gray hair. She hasn’t aged a day. That’s why her nickname is the Yokai of Akita. Of course, she hates it if you say it to her face…”
She doesn’t age? Nagumo Sian must have consumed Hwangua. If she looked the same now as she did twenty years ago, the elixir’s effect was clearly extraordinary. Having fed some to my woman and taken one myself, I couldn’t help but be curious.
We rode in the rental car we’d arrived in, with me driving according to the navigation Matsuhira Ginichiro had entered. Even while driving, the man never shut up for a second. He shared plenty of information I didn’t know, but almost none of it was particularly useful.
The restaurant we reached wasn’t especially upscale. The sushi place we’d visited for lunch actually looked more luxurious by comparison.
According to Matsuhira Ginichiro, Nagumo Sian preferred popular eateries over fancy ones. As president of a food company that studied the tastes of ordinary people, it made sense. So he had booked a restaurant that sat somewhere between casual and high-end.
Fortunately we arrived at 7:20, ten minutes before our 7:30 reservation. We entered and took our seats at the reserved table. Nagumo Sian didn’t seem to have arrived yet; the place was empty.
At the perfectly square table, each member of our party claimed one side. Five minutes after we sat down, the restaurant door opened and a woman stepped inside. She was a stunning beauty with lustrous silver-gray hair wearing an expensive kimono. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. This had to be Nagumo Sian.
Matsuhira Ginichiro had mentioned her ageless appearance, but he’d never said she was this beautiful. She possessed both dignity and a faintly seductive aura, and her body was every bit as explosively voluptuous as Yukiko’s.
“Good evening, Nagumo. It’s been far too long. I can’t express how much I’ve longed to see you. Thanks to this audit from the talent development institute, I finally have the chance to meet you. I’m so delighted that you probably have no idea how—”
“That’s enough. Still as talkative as ever, I see, Matsuhira. And you… must be Saburo’s son.”
“Good evening, Nagumo. My name is Taira Ryuta.”
Nagumo Sian cut Matsuhira Ginichiro off mid-sentence, then turned her gaze on me and immediately recognized who I was. Did I really resemble Taira Saburo that strongly? Personally, I’d always thought I took after Jin Mija.
“And this is…?”
“Assistant Team Leader of Education Support Team 2 at the Talent Development Institute, Suzuki Chisami.”
Suzuki Chisami offered a greeting so the moment wouldn’t grow awkward. Nagumo Sian looked at me with warm eyes and spoke.
“As you probably already know, I am Nagumo Sian, president of Taira Foods. Don’t believe a word this fool Matsuhira says. The man talks too much, exaggerates everything, and is full of hot air.”
She glared at Matsuhira Ginichiro as if she genuinely disliked him, but he simply laughed it off with a cheerful “Hahaha, you’re too harsh, Nagumo!”
“What happened to Saburo was unfortunate. I’ve known him since fifteen years ago—back when your father was in his mid-twenties. You really do look just like him from that time.”
“Do I? I always thought I took after my mother more, but everyone says I resemble my father.”
There was no reason to kill the mood by replying, Actually, I only ever saw my father as a corpse, so I wouldn’t know. I simply answered with what I usually thought.
“You may not realize it, but you look quite similar to Saburo in his youth. Of course, you’re far more handsome…”
“He really is good-looking, isn’t he?”
We chatted pleasantly while enjoying the meal. Nagumo Sian guided the conversation with such skill that even the usually stiff Suzuki Chisami seemed to be having a good time.
The lively atmosphere led to several rounds of drinks. I tried to refuse since I had to drive, but Nagumo Sian said she would provide a driver and kept pouring for me. My resistance stat was high enough that I never got drunk, but Suzuki Chisami and Matsuhira Ginichiro became so intoxicated from the constant toasting that they could no longer sit upright. Nagumo Sian seemed genuinely delighted that I could keep up with her drinking.
More time passed. Once Matsuhira and Suzuki Chisami had both collapsed onto the table and passed out, Nagumo Sian finally spoke.
“So, what exactly did Matsuhira say?”
“He talked nonstop, but nothing particularly memorable. Oh—he did call you the Yokai of Akita.”
In exchange for listening to him until my ears nearly bled, I told Nagumo Sian a few of the things Matsuhira Ginichiro had said that she would probably dislike.
“Hmm…! Not quite what I expected… That man’s mouth is far too loose. I’ll warn you just in case. Something will happen to Matsuhira tomorrow or the day after. You and your companions won’t be harmed, so don’t worry.”
I’d thought he talked too much. It seemed he’d been blabbing Taira Group secrets all over the place. I didn’t know exactly what would happen to him, but I now understood that Matsuhira Ginichiro would meet with some kind of incident while we were here.
The Taira Group really was a terrifying organization. To actually take action over a single careless word… On the other hand, it made me wonder just how much Matsuhira must have said to warrant such measures.
“Let’s call it a night. Next time, come alone. These two are far too weak to alcohol; they’re no fun at all.”
When Nagumo Sian clapped her hands, two sturdy men in suits entered. One hoisted Matsuhira Ginichiro over his shoulder and carried him out. The other stopped in front of me.
“I’ll drive you to your hotel.”
“Thank you, Nagumo big sister.”
“Big sister? Hohoho! You’re quite good at flattery.”
It wasn’t exactly flattery. She simply looked far too young to call “grandmother,” so I’d gone with something closer to “auntie.” It seemed to have scored quite a few points. Would she have liked “older sister” even more?
“You look so young that I almost called you sister but held back at the last moment.”
“Hohoho! I never expected you to make me laugh like this. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Nagumo Sian left the restaurant with a bright, cheerful laugh. I supported the unconscious Suzuki Chisami and climbed into the rental car the driver she had arranged for us had already started.
“Please take us to Iceville Hotel.”
Akita Prefecture wasn’t quite at Hokkaido’s level, but it was still famous for heavy snowfall. That explained why so many hotels had names like Iceville—ice- or snow-themed. Since it was close to the Talent Development Institute’s Kita-Tohoku branch, it was conveniently near the restaurant as well.
After about five minutes we pulled into the hotel parking lot and got out.
“Here is your key.”
“Thank you.”
The driver handed me the key, bowed politely, and disappeared. I wondered how he planned to get back. More pressing, however, was Suzuki Chisami, whom I was still supporting. This was the first time I’d seen her drink, and I now understood her tolerance. She was a complete lightweight.
Carrying my bag, her bag, and Suzuki Chisami herself, I finally reached the hotel lobby. None of it was especially heavy, but with only two hands it was surprisingly difficult to manage two suitcases and a person at the same time.
“I have a reservation under Taira Ryuta.”
“Yes, sir. Let me show you to room 703.”
Huh? Why was he only mentioning one room? As the staff member began to guide us, I spoke up urgently.
“Wait just a moment! I… reserved two rooms, didn’t I?”
“Pardon? Could you wait one moment, please?”
The employee asked me to wait and disappeared into the back office. When she returned to the front desk, her face was full of apology. As I thought—it wasn’t my mistake. I had definitely booked two rooms.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir! Due to an error on our part, only one room was reserved.”
“Is the bed in the reserved room large enough for two people?”
“Y-yes! It’s more than big enough for two guests.”
“Then I’ll just take it.”
I was a little tired and didn’t feel like arguing, so I simply accepted the single room. The staff member bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, thanking me profusely. When I offered my card, they gave me a fifty-percent discount, saying it was their mistake. Since it was a corporate card it didn’t really matter, but receiving the discount still felt good.
After all the complications, once we entered the room I tossed Suzuki Chisami onto the bed. Only then did her eyes flutter open.
“Mmm… Where are we?”
“A hotel room, Assistant Team Leader.”
Suzuki Chisami looked around, noticed something strange, pointed at me, and said,
“Why am I in the same room as you?”