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Chapter Two: Ima (Present) |
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Author's Note:
Bento: A packed box lunch.
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There was a new woman who joined the firm last week; tall, beautiful, blonde. You'd think she was someone out of those American magazines, but she speaks perfect Japanese. Her name is Morikawa Gananori.
She had performed several internships at our branch in Nagoya; Morikawa-san was sent to us with the highest of recommendations. Her performance for this past week has been exemplary; between her looks, her charm, and her talent, she'll go far before her career is over.
The first time she came into my office, she saw the Rubix cube on my desk. "I used to know a boy who did this," she had remarked, her eyes lighting up. "I haven't seen one of these in years. He was incredibly good at it."
"I'm not half-bad myself," I had told her, my eyes sparkling mischeviously.
She shook her head, shuffling through it thoughtfully. "There's no way you could've beaten the boy I used to know. He was a pro at it."
I took it from her hands. "It helps me relax," I explained, my fingers flying through the familiar motions. "I've done this for years." It was unscrambled in less than twenty seconds; I tossed it back into her hands. "Could he do it faster than that?" I inquired, and she smiled.
"He could have finished in half the time," Morikawa-san had assured me. Discussion lapsed back on-track into business once more, but I was intrigued.
Ever since I was in junior high, I was popular with girls. Heck, I was even attractive to men back then-- which was scary. They were always competing for my attention... who could pack the cutest bento? Who would get to be in the same study group as me? Who would get to walk home with me? It's not that I'm full of myself-- it's a statement of fact.
Time wore on. High school, college, the professional world. Things changed. I'm 28 now... never married; never in a serious relationship for long; happily, still viewed as attractive. My position within the banking community is very promising, and makes me even more desirable as a catch. Yet here's my newest subordinate-- bright, witty, beautiful in her own right. But instead of trying to ingratiate herself by being in perpetual agreement-- she dares to tell me that I could be out-maneuvered by a boy from her past, in a field in which I take exceptional pride in my skill.
I find that rather intriguing.
Surely someone as beautiful as Morikawa-san has had more than her own share of men falling at her feet. I vowed not to be another of them-- how ridiculous it would be; me, her superior!
Still, the thought is addictive, and pleasant in the fact that it would be a dangerous thing to pursue. Consequently, I take my pleasure where I can, keeping it all in my mind. Yet I treasure the moments when I pass her in the hall, or call her into my office on some pretext.
She has such lovely hair; yellow, like afternoon sunlight filtering through the summer sky. Her eyes are blue, always smiling, yet with a certain sharpness and perception behind them. Morikawa-san possesses such a graceful walk-- a gentle sway, with a hint of determination in her footsteps. When she says in her pleasant alto voice, "I'll get right on it, Koganei-san," a warm feeling rushes over me.
I wonder what it would be like to have a different kind of relationship with her-- one less formal, less restrictive. But it would be a dangerous thing to pursue, so I content myself with my private thoughts.