A Girl's Turmoil

Chapter 23 - Backstabbed Delivery

As usual, Shiba is drinking her tea in her office during the evening. There was nothing else to do for the current time with all the shipping paperwork, maintenance, and quality testing out of the way. Next to her cup of tea is her supplement of wheat cookies, a particular brand that her mother adored called Craesar. Almost an epitome to Julius Caesar. The violet gun dealer dips a cookie into her tea and eats half of it. Dipping it once more, she then devours the rest of the cookie.

With her phone on the table face down, she peacefully enjoys the tranquility and the serene noiseless room. Sometimes leaving her mind wandering somewhere as she flips the pages of the newspaper with such elegance. Although the silence is welcoming, she could've just played a classical song for only this room. The problem was that, like the millions of people worldwide, remember what the classic songs sound like but can hardly remember the name of those titles. And the closest composer she could remember is only Beethoven and Edvard Grieg, and she's not in the mood to listen to songs belonging to those composers.

The tranquility she enjoyed didn't last long, though—a couple of knocks emitted from the door before her. More annoyingly is that the knocks happened in the middle of her sipping. Something about patiently sipping the tea is nothing short of conformity, a delicate way to enjoy one's drink. She almost made her tea jump and put her cup on a plate with an exasperated sigh. And most of all, she is not expecting another paperwork to work on.

"Who goes there?"

"It's me, ma'am. Sakurako is already here with me."

Shiba immediately raises her eyebrows, realizing that something had slipped her mind. Of course, she had contacted her for a job.

"Come on in," Shiba asked, folding the newspaper and setting it aside.

The door is open, and George is the first to enter the room, still wearing his usual black business suit with a white shirt under it and his sunglasses still concealed his eyes. Behind him is the all-familiar blonde indifferent girl, Sakurako. However, Shiba can't say if Sakurako is being indifferent to today. Her face doesn't show much, but her eyebrows are a bit furrowed, and the gaze she produced gave the sense of melancholy into the room.

"Hello, Sakurako."

The blonde Oomuro only looked up but didn't greet back. With her absent response, Shiba tilts her head back, taking a deep sigh and gently forming a fist on the table.

"Sumida told me about Rise," Shiba pushed her tea aside. "I am sincerely sorry about what happened to your friend."

Sakurako bows her head. "I thought you both are enemies to each other."

George never said a word, still standing firm as he was a ranger. On the other hand, Shiba leans forward against the table, resting her elbows on it and placing her chin on top of her clasped hands.

"We are," Shiba's tone came off heavy. Bitter wasn't enough to describe that feeling. "But we have the same friend. Why do we worry about killing each other when our very same friend is in trouble?"

Sakurako only shrug. "You use different ways."

"Yes," Shiba scratched her forehead. "Sumida-san isn't keen with a scum like me helping on her case. I can't really blame her distrust."

"We've started investigating on our own when we got the word about Ms. Rise," George added. "It is unfortunate such thing has happened to someone we know."

The blonde girl only nods, though she begins to look around and notices someone is absent for the time being. "Where is Maru-san?"

"About that...," Shiba dropped her forearms on the table. "He's out of the country. He'll come back in a couple of days."