The Case Of Takafumi Yokozawa Vol 3

Short story 2

Adjusting his grip on the plastic bag he held with both hands, Yokozawa Takafumi stepped off the elevator onto the 5th floor, on which were situated the shounen and seinen manga editing departments of Marukawa Shoten’s main offices.

While the lights almost never seemed to dim on this floor-that-never-sleeps, the reason there were a particularly large number of people still hanging back tonight was because this was the final day of the cycle—and from the looks of things, this was going to be yet another long night.

Yokozawa called out to Hitomi, who passed dazedly just in front of him. “Great work today; how are things looking?”

“Huh? Yokozawa-san? Didn’t you just head home earlier?” The workpace being perhaps the cause of his vacant expression, Hitomi seemed more shocked than expected at Yokozawa’s sudden reappearance, appearing as if he’d just been jolted awake.

“I brought some snacks.”

“Seriously?! Thank you so much! I was just thinking that I was crazy hungry!” Hitomi peered into the plastic bag curiously, his expression seeming to positively dance with glee. Yokozawa had bought gyuudon—the late hour had meant that a chain restaurant had been the only place close by that could prepare an order for a large number of people decently quickly. “Kirishima-san! Yokozawa-san brought us all some dinner, so how about taking a short break?”

Kirishima Zen, Editor-in-Chief of Japun, had been staring grim-faced down at his desk as he worked—and he new glanced up at Hitomi’s comment. Catching sight of Yokozawa here, he hazarded, “What’re you doing here, Yokozawa? Didn’t you already head home?”

Yokozawa felt a swell of irritation when Kirishima asked him the same thing Hitomi had, as if he didn’t know fully well the reason Yokozawa was here now. “You… Who the hell was it who called me up after I’d already gone through the ticket gates at the station whining that he was hungry?!”

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been annoyed at what had seemed like a prank call initially, but he’d wound up coming back here regardless, dinner in hand, because he’d felt pity for the guy not having anything to eat this evening.

“Oh, that… I was just venting because I was hungry, that’s all.”

Yokozawa snapped at the casual manner with which Kirishima delivered his response, and he immediately regretted feeling the remotest bit of sympathy for the guy. “Know what? You get no dinner now. Katou—you can have two servings instead.”

On hearing this news, Katou—who’d been milling about picking at the gyuudon containers—glanced back and forth in confusion between Yokozawa and Kirishima. ”Eeh?! Wait, even if you tell me I can, I still…”

“Whatever—I’m leaving now.” With sore feelings, Yokozawa turned on his heel and headed back toward the elevator—when Kirishima burst into a jog to chase him down.

“Ah—wait, I’m getting on too.”

“What the hell are—don’t follow me!”