The Woman Who Tests, Episode 4: The Crying Game [Creative Award Romance Novel Category]

The cafe in Daikanyama was nearly full despite it being a weekday afternoon, and we were shown to a terrace seat shaded by a charcoal-colored parasol. Geraniums in hanging baskets swayed along the sidewalk, and the dry breeze, still before the start of the rainy season, brushed against our table along with the scent of freshly ground coffee.

Kaoru-san adjusted the cuffs of her matte beige jacket and swirled the straw in her iced latte without making a sound. The ice touched the side of the glass, creating a faint, bell-like chime.

"Hey, I'm going independent. In Ginza."

A casual remark. Yet, the contours of her words stood out as sharply as the rim of a cup.

"Having my own shop was always my dream."

Contrary to her faintly smiling lips, her brown eyes seemed to already be reflecting the neon lights of the coming night. As I cast my gaze down at the water glass in my hand, the sunlight filtering through the trees danced on the surface of the water, making the very choices before me seem to ripple.

"Won't you come with me?"

The invitation was lighter than I had imagined, ringing a small bell deep within my chest. But I shook my head. My throat, having inhaled the cold air as the ice clinked, tightened.

"I'm planning on quitting."

The moment I finished saying it, a cold shadow slid down my back. Kaoru-san raised one eyebrow slightly and let out a small sigh.

"...Him?"

When I nodded, one of the bubbles in her latte popped.

"Do it. You can still go back."

Her voice was kind, yet contained just a hint of sadness. I had no choice but to nod.

Over Kaoru-san's shoulder as she paid the bill, the bossa nova playing from the shop's speakers sounded damp, like a precursor to rain.

"More importantly, tonight's escort. He's an important client of mine, right? You don't have to cancel. Let him celebrate your graduation from Ginza."

Her clear voice was as cold and transparent as a glass filled with ice, and I reflexively answered, "Yes."

That night, as thin rain clouds began to cover the sky, I passed through the noren curtain of the Japanese restaurant 'Kirisame' in Ginza 7-chome as promised. Waiting for me was Mr. Fukuyama, who ran an IT company—a man seven years my senior who looked good in sharp, black-rimmed glasses. He had a quiet smile that combined a scientific sensibility with thoughtfulness.

"Good evening, Rikako-san. I'm glad we could meet before the rainy season began."

The first course was jade-colored water shield and crab miso jelly. The green reflected in the glass bowl swayed like a quiet water surface.

“Rikako-san... so, we won't be able to see each other anymore, will we?”

Fukuyama-san stopped his hand, still holding the yuba with his chopsticks. I tilted my head without letting my smile falter.

“...Who knows? It's Tokyo, after all; we could see each other anytime.”

As I said this, I felt the two words 'goodbye' remaining deep in my chest, unable to fully melt away.

Then, he smiled quietly and—

“By the way, have you ever seen the movie 'The Crying Game'? ...The one where the scorpion stings the frog.”

I shook my head and replied, 'Tell me that story at the club.'

When we left the restaurant, the paving stones of the pedestrian paradise were beginning to become mottled black with raindrops. Fukuyama-san offered me a small black umbrella and escorted me to a club in a building on the same street as the restaurant.

The chandelier inside the club swayed with champagne-colored light. Fukuyama-san ordered a bottle of Dom Pérignon Rosé without hesitation. The bubbles popped in the glass like fireworks, and the scent of roses tickled my nostrils.

After the toast, he respected my decision and didn't press further on the topic of me quitting. Instead, he spoke enthusiastically about the AI control for the next product, and I—thinking this was the last time—nodded along with a smile.

At midnight, when business hours ended, Mama Kayoko came over to the table where I had been sitting.

“Hey, come with me for a little bit.”

Mama's scent was her usual Santa Maria Novella. I grabbed my things from the locker and slid into her taxi.

Our destination was the Maduro bar at the Grand Hyatt in Roppongi Hills. Beyond the heavy door, light purple lights enveloped the sound of a saxophone. Mama ordered a double bourbon, and I had a lychee non-alcoholic cocktail. The white orchid petal in my glass swayed as it touched the edge of the ice.

“Kaoru, you quit, didn't you?”

When I nodded, Mama took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled the smoke in a lingering way.

“That girl is smart. She didn't want you to steal her customers.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Ginza is a permanent nomination. If Kaoru leaves, you will likely take over her clients at our club. If you, the ‘young you,’ work the floor there, they will choose you over Kaoru’s club. Kaoru will lose to you—but if you’re quitting, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

Ice hit the side of the glass with a clink.

“Don’t you want the money?”

Mama smiled sweetly and pressed a paper napkin stained with thick rouge to her lips.

Inside the taxi, when the light at the Nishi-Azabu intersection turned red, Mama turned on the backseat light and placed a large envelope on my lap. Inside were new bills bundled with paper bands. Even the scent of the ink was vivid.

“This is for what you’ve earned up to today. And a bonus. You could earn as much as you want if you became one of my girls.”

I couldn’t say anything, just accepted it. The warmth of the stack of bills seeped into my thighs, overlapping with the rhythm of my heartbeat.

3:00 AM. In a karaoke box in Sangenjaya, I changed from my dress into a T-shirt and carelessly bundled my hair into a bun. While aiming the dryer’s airflow at my sweat-dampened neck, I stared at myself in the mirror for a while. As I wiped off the pink lipstick and brushed the glitter from my cheeks with my fingers, my facial features suddenly looked like a sketch with faint outlines.

When I opened my smartphone in the back of the taxi, a message from Mr. Fukuyama read only, ‘Your smile tonight was beautiful.’ My fingers trembled as I typed a reply, then I deleted it halfway through and turned the screen face down.

Before 4:00 AM, the entrance light of my apartment in Shimouma was bleeding into a fluorescent color. As I turned the key, the interior light came on, and Kento jumped out from the living room.

“You’re late. Where were you?”

His voice was dry and cracked, and he grabbed my wrist roughly.

“Was it… another man?”

He covered my lips before I could speak. I was pressed against the wall, and a picture frame hit my back. The earring I had taken off rolled onto the floor with a dry clinking sound.

“You’re cheating on me, aren’t you, again…”

His voice was ambiguous, whether it was a question or a confirmation. Without a moment to reply, I was pushed onto the bed, and the sheets, holding the scent of the damp night, wrapped around me.

The taste of iron spread inside my bitten lip. Tears traced the hairline of my cheeks and soaked into the pillow. Even so, I hugged him back. Without knowing myself if it was forgiveness or punishment.

The silence after it ended was like the bottom of a dream before an alarm clock rings in the distance. Feeling Kento’s sleeping breath against my back, I quietly sat up, picked up my smartphone, and went out into the hallway.

Without the courage to turn on the light, I hugged my knees and leaned against the wall. The screen illuminated my face with a pale glow.

My fingertips trembled. I remained motionless for a while, my finger still resting on the reply button.

The window glass in the hallway bled from indigo to pale pink, as the colors of dawn slowly seeped in. Within me, the 'scent of Ginza' and the 'scent of Shimouma' still formed distinct layers, refusing to blend. I felt as though I were sitting on the threshold between night and morning, unable to return to either.
The bank strap protruding from the envelope by the bedside took on a purple hue in the dawn-colored sky.