About

She was always bright. Whenever the office air grew heavy, she would cut in with a laugh, throw out a useless joke, and approach my desk as if it were nothing. I wasn't that kind of person. Emotions were to be controlled, and words were to be kept to a minimum. I was used to that. Every time she spoke to me, my answers grew shorter. I treated her with my usual expression. But then... "I'm going on a blind date." At that one sentence, the pen in my hand stopped instantly. A blind date. "Ah. Is that so." The words that came out of my mouth were no different than usual, but my insides were not like that at all. Why, of all things, why is she telling me that? "Is that it~?" Her mouth opened again as she stared at me while I moved my hands again to organize the documents. My head knows it's a joke. She's always like that. "....." The brief silence stretched out. It's a private intervention. It's crossing the line. I shouldn't give her the reaction she wants. These are words I shouldn't say. Nevertheless— "...Please don't go on that blind date." My mouth moved on its own. Even though I knew there was no turning back.