At the Year-End Party He Thanked Me for Doing His Paperwork, So I Took the Microphone novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The One Who Did My Paperwork
At Hanamori's year-end party Ryota announces his engagement to the director's daughter and thanks Chiaki for doing his paperwork; she takes the microphone, tells three hundred people whose contract it was and hands in her transfer, and the client's vice-president stands up at table 3.
"And I have to thank Hayase-san from my team," her boyfriend said into the microphone. "The one who did my paperwork."
Three hundred people laughed.
Ryota raised his glass toward table seven, where Chiaki was sitting.
He had the dimple out. He always had the dimple out on stages.
"Couldn't have done it without your typing, Hayase-san."
More laughter.
Somebody behind her clapped.
Under the table, Haruka grabbed Chiaki's knee hard enough to hurt.
"Chiaki," she whispered. "What is he doing?"
Chiaki didn't know.
She had written his speech.
She had written it last Sunday on their sofa in Nakameguro, while he lay with his head in her lap watching football.
Thank the president, the managing director and the team, and name Tsukishiro Hotels, because the client would be in the room.
There had been nothing in it about paperwork.
There had been nothing in it about what he said next, either.
"And since it's the season for big news," Ryota said, "I've got one more announcement."
He turned toward the head table and held out his hand.
Reina Hanamori stood up.
She was the managing director's daughter, from corporate planning.
She wore an ivory dress and a single strand of pearls, and her long black hair didn't move when she walked.
She climbed the three steps to the stage and took his hand.
The chandeliers of the Kujaku Room caught the ring on her finger.
"Reina-san has agreed to marry me," Ryota said.
The room exploded.
People were standing up. Somebody at the sales table whistled.
The managing director rose at the head table and bowed to the room, beaming, as if he'd planned it.
He probably had.
Chiaki sat very still with her glass of oolong tea.
At seven o'clock that morning, Ryota had kissed her in their genkan with his shoes half on.
"Big night tonight, Chii," he'd said. "Don't wait up."
Haruka was saying her name.
On stage, the MC was taking the microphone back from Ryota, laughing, calling for the toast.
"Everyone, glasses up, please! To Saeki-san, our new head of Sales Planning, and to the happy couple!"
Three hundred people lifted their glasses.
Chiaki put hers down and stood.
"Chiaki," Haruka said.
She walked between the tables.
It was a long walk across the Kujaku Room, past forty round tables with little candles in glass.
People saw her coming and stopped smiling.
The MC was a nice boy from General Affairs. He saw her face and held the microphone out to her before she asked.
She took it.
"Excuse me," she said. "Before the toast."
The room went quiet in pieces. Back tables last.
Ryota was still holding Reina's hand. His smile had gone stiff at the edges.
"Chii," he said, low. "Not now."
Chiaki turned to the room.
"Saeki-san is right. I did his paperwork."
A few people laughed, unsure.
"The paperwork was the Tsukishiro Hotels contract. Welcome sweets in every guest room of forty hotels, and every banquet dessert, for three years. One point eight billion yen."
Nobody was laughing now.
"I negotiated it for fourteen months. There were thirty-one drafts. I wrote all of them."
She looked at Ryota.
"Saeki-san came to two meetings. The first one, and the signing."
The managing director was on his feet again. He wasn't beaming.
"The man who signed that contract for Tsukishiro is here tonight," Chiaki said. "Table three. You can ask him."
Every head in the room turned to table three.
She didn't look. She was too busy holding her voice steady.
"And Reina-san."
Reina met her eyes. Hers were very calm.
"Congratulations. He left our apartment at seven this morning."
Somebody dropped a fork.
Chiaki put her hand in her bag and took out a white envelope.
She had written it nine days ago, at Ryota's request.
"If we're getting married, you can't stay in my department," he'd said. "People will talk. File a transfer to Product. It's for us, Chii."
The HR director was at table one, right below the stage. Chiaki stepped down and handed it to him.
"My transfer request," she said into the microphone. "He asked me to write it so we could get married. I'd like to file it anyway."
The HR director took the envelope.
"Hayase." The managing director's voice cut across the room. "That is enough. Step down."
"I'm down," Chiaki said.
Ryota had finally let go of Reina's hand.
He came to the edge of the stage and spread his arms to the room, sorrowful, reasonable.
"Everyone, I'm sorry. Hayase-san and I broke up a while ago. She hasn't been well. I should have handled it better."
A murmur went around the tables.
Chiaki felt it land. The sympathy was turning, table by table, toward him.
Then a chair scraped at table three.
A man stood up.
He was tall, in a charcoal suit, with black hair swept back and rimless glasses.
He didn't hurry. He buttoned his jacket.
Chiaki knew him.
She had sat across from him for the last twelve rounds of that contract, and he had never once smiled at her.
Kaname Tsukishiro. Vice-president of Tsukishiro Hotels.
The industry called him the Ice Wall.
"She's telling the truth," he said.
He didn't need a microphone. The room was that quiet.
"Every clause in that contract was hers. I know, because I lost most of them to her."
He looked at the HR director, and the envelope in his hand.
"Hanamori doesn't need to process that."
Then he looked at Chiaki.
"Hayase-san. Don't transfer. Come to Tsukishiro."
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