Hachiman analyzed the spreadsheet on the screen, furrowing his eyebrows as he carefully scanned through the columns.
"Alright, let's see… Sir Maverick ordered two metric tons of steel, that would be 1.5 coins; McNukistan has requested for 5 Ukranium-IV™ ores, total would be 24.23 coins… Damn… I wish they buy from me more often, would fill my pocket up in no time…"
"The Aryan Brotherhood ethno-state has made transaction for 5 gallons of red, white and black dyes; they goods were purchased last week. The price of each dye, including 5% interest, ought to be 0.3,0.67, and 0.4 coins respectively. Hmm, let me check… Is it correct? Correct! Very well, indeed. What now? Lady Iroha of the Golden Leaf Faction has ordered fine Tibetan silk from the Dalai Lama. Hmm… looks like I have to send a telegram over to the Sino-Tibetan Minarchy."
Hachiman choked at the last part. The mentioning of Lady Iroha brought forth painful memories. As he read through her message over and over again, he could feel nothing but a gaping hole in his heart.
What shattered him the most was the degree of formality that Lady Iroha adhered to in her letter. The use of phrases such as "I would like to inquire", "In regard to this affair" and especially "Once again, it is my obligation to acknowledge the smooth running of our collective endeavors" will no doubt lend credence to most people's initial assumption that their relationship is indeed nothing beyond business ties.
However, they used to attend the same high school. Not only that, but they knew each other as well.
Iroha was his beloved underclassman
Until she was stripped bare of her past
And had her memories irrevocable seized from her.