Accomplice to the Mirror's Flicker 09 | Chapter 8: A New Accomplice

Chapter 8: A New Accomplice

Have you ever closed someone's dream
with just a single word?

7.2 million yen.

I stared at that number for a while.

The 300,000 yen in retail sales at the end of the year
became 1 million yen,
then 3 million yen,
surpassed 6.3 million yen,
and finally, it reached this point.

The evening light slanted in through the window.
The staff were silently cleaning up.

No one said a word.

Only the sound of the broom slid across the floor.
That silence looked like a ceiling.

After closing, I placed two coffees
on the counter.
They came again today.

That person was the one who taught us
the value of shampoo.

"What are you doing this for?"

On the day we decided to carry the product,
that was what they asked me.

Every time they visited, before talking about the products,
they would look at the staff's faces.

They would listen to the customers' reactions
right there beside us.

One day, that person said,

"Since you've come this far, you can go even further."

I kept my cup wrapped in both hands
and couldn't lift my head for a while.

Then, I gave a short reply.

"That is enough."

The moment I finished saying that,
I felt the air between us
change ever so slightly.

That person lowered their eyes just a little.

It looked as if they had swallowed something.

Only the warmth of the cup remained in my palms.

That night, while stroking my child's hair,
my hand stopped.

Those eyes, lowered.

I had seen them somewhere before.

After a while, I remembered.

——I can no longer follow you.

When I was told that before,
that staff member had also lowered their eyes.

It was that very moment.

Perhaps I had made someone
lower their eyes once again.

Even after that, that person came to the shop many times.
One day, as they were leaving, we walked to the parking lot together.

The streetlights stretched out across the asphalt.

There was a brief pause.
And then, they told me this.

"I want to make my dreams come true at this shop. It may be presumptuous, but I want to see them come true with you."

Their voice melted away a little at the end of the sentence.

Before getting into the car, that is what they said.

They were smiling.
But their eyes were not.
The night breeze was a little cold.

As I watched them walk away,
I realized it for the first time.

This person had
their own dreams.

My shop was,
for them too, a view they still wanted to see.

"That's enough now."

With just those words,
I was about to bring the curtain down on that view.

Perhaps the staff
felt the same way.

If the desire to "try doing more"
existed within the staff as well,

my "that's enough" might have
extinguished that fire.

I went to meet that person once more.

At first, we made small talk.

Recent news in the industry. Talk about other salons.
Changes in recent customers.

We piled up trivial conversations, one by one.

Suddenly, there was a pause.

Outside the window, a car drove by.

In that silence, the words spilled out.

"I am aiming for 10 million yen."

The moment I finished saying it,
I felt the air change.

Once the words were out,
they could not be taken back.

I don't know how to reach it.
I don't even know what is missing.

Even so, I had said, "I am aiming for it."

I could no longer pretend it hadn't happened.
I finally told myself, too.

That I, too,
wanted to see a view I had never seen before.

That night, I stayed in the shop after closing.

The air conditioner was off.
Only the scent of the shop was still there.

The lingering fragrance of shampoo and someone's hair.
I could hear my own breathing.

The chairs were lined up, and the mirrors were shining quietly.
I was reflected in the mirror.

Deep inside, there was someone else.
It was me, feeling afraid.

If you put up numbers like these and
cause the staff to suffer, what will you do?

What if, just like in the past, the numbers take precedence again?

That question was looking at me from the other side of the mirror.

Even so, I did not retract it.

Until now, I have
run for the sake of the scenery I wanted to see.

But from now on,
I want to show everyone scenery they have yet to see.

I wanted to see the moment
when an unknown light ignites in their eyes.

That is why I said, "I will aim for it."

For a while, I stood there just like that.

I turned my back to the mirror and turned off the lights.

One day, a customer was hesitating in front of the mirror.

“I want to try it, but
would it be strange for someone like me to do it?”

The edge of her voice grew a little thin.

“But, I think I might want to try it.”

Deep within that "but," there was a small voice.

I want to be beautiful.
But, for me—that was the voice.

The eyes reflected in the mirror were flickering, just a little.

The people we face
are not products.

They are the small anxieties
deep within the customer's heart.

Anxiety that cannot be overcome alone
should not be left to be overcome alone.

When I thought that, words ignited.

—Accomplice.

Before speaking, I laughed a little.

I didn't find it by searching.
It was a word that called out to me, and I came.

Accomplice of beauty.

That word felt like the closest one.
I felt it was the closest.

And so,
we all chose that word.

"I want to be beautiful"

We decided to call those who empathize
with that feeling
our accomplices.

And thus, an event began.

"What's an accomplice?"
"Am I an accomplice, too?"
"That sounds kind of interesting."

The customer laughed.

Not because they were troubled, but they laughed, looking a little amused.

The words were changing the atmosphere.

The staff's words also began to change, little by little.

"If we tell this to that customer, they'll probably be happy."
"I have a feeling that customer XX would be willing to become an accomplice."

It wasn't a conversation meant for selling.

It was a conversation where we imagined the customer's future together.

The sales followed afterward.

And then, I quietly told another accomplice.

The dealer remained silent for a while.

Then, they softened their eyes just a little.

"Let's do it."

It was a short phrase.

It was neither accusatory nor triumphant.

It was simply a phrase that meant they would face the same direction as me once more.

"That is enough," I said.
"I will aim for it," I said.
"Let's do it," that person said.

With words, I was able to open the door that had been closed,
with words, I was able to open it once again.

The fact that I hurt them will not disappear.

But, even without it disappearing,
we can face the same direction once again.

Facing each other, perhaps, meant exactly that.

On a winter night, I was sitting in front of a calculator.
Outside the window, a streetlamp was glowing faintly.

A number appeared on the screen.

10 million yen.

I should have been happy, but...
my hands were a little cold.

I was just breathing.
I thought I had let go of the numbers.

But, in truth,
I was only trying to see the person.

Beyond that, the numbers had been placed.

And then—

a new accomplice had been born.

The customer. The staff. And, that person.

Perhaps, it had always been that way.
I was just a little late in noticing.

In the mirror, there was a face that was smiling just a little.

[Accomplice Memo] "Words" can be returned

・"That's enough" can sometimes extinguish someone's small flame.


・A door closed by words can be opened once more with words.

The event actually born from that was accompanied by these words.


Let's orchestrate the destiny of your beauty together.That was our "complicity of beauty."

Final Chapter: Accomplices of Light and Shadow→