Sasaki is forty-five, single, and running on fumes. Every night after overtime, he drags himself to Supermarket S for a half-price bento, a pack of Mevius, and one small reason to keep going: Yamada-san, the sweet, smiling part-timer at register two. She's polite, professional, and utterly out of his league—which doesn't stop him from lining up at her lane every single day like a lovesick idiot.
Then, one night behind the store, he discovers the truth.
The Yamada who clocks out is nothing like
Smoking Love Behind Supermarket S - The Smoking Area of Determination and the Two Who Can't Say It
"Hey, Sasaki! I heard about you — apparently you were a real hero at the supermarket yesterday!"
Morning at Genki Trading's suburban branch. Sasaki had barely sat down at his desk when Suzuki came striding over, grinning from ear to ear. His black hair was parted in a neat seven-to-three split — the haircut of a born salesman. His friendly brown eyes were narrowed with amusement. The wedding ring on his left hand caught the morning light from the window.
"W-wait, how do you know about that?"
Sasaki's voice nearly cracked.
"How do I know? You covered for that supermarket clerk and lied to the head office inspector, didn't you? The whole branch is talking about it. 'Section Chief Sasaki, playing hero at his age.'"
Suzuki gave Sasaki's shoulder a light pat. The nudge nearly sent Sasaki's reading glasses sliding off his nose. He hurriedly pushed them back up.
"Th-that's not it! It wasn't like that — it just, you know, happened that way..."
"It just happened, and you lied too? Come on, you've fallen for that clerk, haven't you?"
"I'm telling you, it's not like that!"
Sasaki's voice echoed across the floor. The coworkers at nearby desks kept stealing glances their way. One of them stifled a laugh.
(Please, stop...)
Sasaki wanted nothing more than to run and hide.
Suzuki leaned in close to Sasaki's ear.
"Come on, what's the real story? You and that clerk — you're not just customer and employee, are you?"
Something deep in Sasaki's chest tightened.
"...Suzuki. That's enough."
Sasaki's voice dropped low. Even he was surprised by how serious he sounded.
Suzuki's eyes widened, just slightly.
"...My bad. I took it too far."
Suzuki took his hand off Sasaki's shoulder.
"But hey — if you're serious about this, I'm rooting for you. If it makes you happy, that's all that matters."
With that, Suzuki headed back to his own desk.
Sasaki sat alone at his desk.
(Can I... really make Tayama-san happy?)
(No — what business does someone like me even have...)
The computer screen glowed faintly. Sasaki rested his hands on the keyboard. But his fingers wouldn't move.
His head was full of yesterday.
He'd lied to the inspector. He'd protected Tayama. And then he'd said those words.
"I don't want to lose your smile."
What kind of face had Tayama made when she heard that?
Sasaki pulled out his phone. He opened his chat with Tayama. The last exchange was from the day before the inspection.
(Is Tayama-san working today?)
(Or is she resting?)
Sasaki set the phone down on the desk.
(I need to work.)
(But I can't focus.)
He let out a deep breath.
＿＿＿
The moment quitting time hit, Sasaki hurried out of the office.
(I want to see Tayama-san.)
(I want to apologize.)
(Is she suffering because of me?)
He left the mixed-use building in front of Kasaino Station and headed for the south exit. The autumn air brushed cool against his cheeks. The sky was heavy and gray — the kind that looked ready to rain at any moment.
From Kano Station to the Fresh Mart Kano branch. A twelve-minute walk.
Sasaki's feet moved faster on their own.
(Tayama-san, please be all right.)
(Please don't have quit because of me.)
He prayed it deep in his chest.
＿＿＿
Fresh Mart Kano.
The automatic doors slid open and the familiar store air washed over him. But Sasaki's heart wouldn't settle.
(Is Tayama-san at register two?)
Without even grabbing a basket, he walked toward the registers.
Register two.
The person standing there was not Tayama.
A petite woman. Apron on, ringing up customers with practiced efficiency. The name tag on her chest read "Maezawa."
(Maezawa-san... she used to be the head of the register department.)
Sasaki stood frozen.
"Oh, Sasaki-san. Welcome."
Maezawa noticed him and called out cheerfully.
"Ah, hello... um, is Yamada-san here?"
Sasaki asked hesitantly.
"Yama-san? She's off today. She's been kind of down since yesterday, though. The store manager probably noticed and gave her the day off."
Maezawa kept scanning items as she spoke.
"...I see."
A sharp pain stabbed through Sasaki's chest.
(Tayama-san... so it really is my fault...)
"Sasaki-san, are you shopping today?"
"Ah, no, today I just..."
Sasaki trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to buy the rice crackers or the canned beer.
"I see. Well, come again."
Maezawa smiled brightly.
Sasaki gave a small bow and left the store.
＿＿＿
The back entrance of the store.
Sasaki sat alone on the bench in the smoking area.
The northwest corner of the parking lot. Two ashtray stands, one bench. Through the fence, the lights of the residential neighborhood dotted the darkness. The streetlamps were dim, and the area was wrapped in half-light.
(Tayama-san is resting.)
(Because of me.)
Sasaki pulled a pack of Mevius Premium from his pocket. He shook one out and lit it with a hundred-yen lighter.
He drew the smoke deep into his lungs.
(What have I done to Tayama-san?)
(That lie was supposed to protect her.)
(But she feels responsible.)
(My lie only made her suffer more.)
Sasaki exhaled. The smoke drifted away on the night wind and vanished.
(What should I have done?)
(How could I have protected her?)
He hung his head.
That was when—
"Knew I'd find you here."
A low, flat voice.
He looked up. Gotou was standing there. Short black bob. Narrow black eyes. A mole at the corner of her mouth. In her hand, a heated tobacco device.
"Store manager..."
Sasaki scrambled to stand.
"Sit."
Gotou quietly lowered herself onto the bench beside him.
She switched on her heated tobacco and took a deep drag. The smoke she exhaled was far thinner than a cigarette's.
Silence.
The night wind blew through the space between them.
"Zawa told me. Yamada's off today."
Gotou said it quietly.
"...Yes. It's my fault."
Sasaki kept his head down and stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray.
"Because you lied, Yamada feels responsible."
Gotou's voice was as flat and unreadable as ever.
"...I'm sorry."
"You're apologizing to the wrong person."
Sasaki had nothing to say to that.
Gotou took another drag from her device.
"But you know — your lie was kindness."
Sasaki raised his head.
Gotou was still facing forward.
"You wanted to protect Yamada. That's all. I won't call a lie told to protect someone a bad thing."
Her words were quiet. But they carried a definite weight.
"This time, tell her the truth."
That's what she said.
"The truth?"
"What you want to say to Yamada. Say it in your own words. Not a lie, not a cover-up — your honest feelings."
Something warm spread slowly through Sasaki's chest.
(Tell the truth.)
(My honest feelings.)
Sasaki looked at his own hands.
(But I failed back at head office.)
(I covered for a subordinate, stood up to my boss, and got transferred out here.)
(Can my words really protect anyone?)
The memory of that day came flooding back.
＿＿＿
Eight years ago.
Sasaki had still been at head office.
He'd been put in charge of a major project. Five subordinates. All of them young and talented.
But the project failed.
The cause was Sasaki's misjudgment. One of his subordinates had falsified data to meet an impossible deadline. Sasaki knew — and didn't report it to his superiors.
"I wanted to protect my subordinate."
That's what he'd said.
But his boss didn't believe him.
"You just wanted to dodge responsibility."
Sasaki was transferred.
(What did I actually protect that day?)
(My subordinate?)
(Or myself?)
Sasaki pulled out another cigarette.
Lit it.
(I don't know.)
(But I don't want Tayama-san to go through what I did.)
(I don't want my words to hurt her.)
He drew the smoke deep.
"I don't mind your clumsiness, you know."
Gotou murmured it.
Sasaki looked at her, startled.
Gotou stubbed out her device in the ashtray and stood.
"See you. Hope you get to see Yamada tomorrow."
Gotou disappeared toward the store's back entrance.
Sasaki was left alone in the smoking area.
The night wind was cold.
(Tomorrow, I'll see Tayama-san.)
(And I'll tell her in my own words.)
(I don't want to lose your smile.)
(That's all I'll tell her.)
Sasaki finished his cigarette and stood up.
＿＿＿
The next morning.
Sasaki left the house thirty minutes earlier than usual.
The sky was gray and heavy, just like yesterday.
(Will Tayama-san come in today?)
(What if she doesn't?)
Sasaki checked his phone over and over as he walked. Nothing from Tayama.
(It's fine. I'll see her.)
He told himself that.
The back entrance of Fresh Mart Kano.
Sasaki sat on the bench in the smoking area and waited for Tayama.
The morning air was chilly. Only a few cars were in the parking lot.
(Tayama-san, please come.)
Sasaki gently traced the portable ashtray in his pocket with his fingertips.
The same model he'd given Tayama — his own portable ashtray.
Its hard shape quietly steadied his resolve.
＿＿＿
He'd waited about ten minutes.
The back door of the store opened.
It was Tayama.
Her hair was down, small silver earrings in her ears. A black hoodie and jeans. Her plain, off-duty self.
She spotted Sasaki and stopped in her tracks.
"...Old man."
Her voice was trembling slightly.
Sasaki stood.
"I'm sorry about yesterday. I made you take a day off because of me."
He bowed deeply.
Tayama was silent for a moment.
"Because of you, I cried, you know."
Her voice held anger. But her eyes were wet.
Sasaki lifted his head.
Tayama pulled something from her pocket.
It was the portable ashtray he'd given her.
She was clutching it in both hands, like something precious.
"I've been carrying this the whole time, you know."
Her voice grew small.
Something hot tightened in Sasaki's chest.
(Tayama-san treasures what I gave her.)
(She's holding my words like a treasure.)
His throat burned.
"Tayama-san, I—"
He tried to keep going.
"I, for you—"
But the words caught in his throat.
(I want to say I like you.)
(But is it okay to say it?)
(I'm forty-five, and Tayama-san is twenty-four, and—)
(Someone like me, saying he likes her...)
Doubt churned inside him.
"You don't have to say it."
Tayama said it quietly.
Sasaki looked at her.
She was smiling, just a little.
"Because I can't say it properly yet either."
Her smile looked close to tears. But it was definitely a smile.
"So for now, this is enough."
She pressed the portable ashtray tightly against her chest.
Sasaki couldn't say anything.
But something deep in his chest grew warm.
(Tayama-san understands.)
(My feelings that won't become words.)
(She feels the same way.)
Sasaki nodded.
"...Yeah."
His voice trembled, just slightly.
＿＿＿
The two of them sat side by side on the bench.
Sasaki lit a Mevius Premium.
Tayama lit a Pianissimo Menthol.
Two trails of smoke rose into the sky.
There were no words.
But something certain flowed between them.
(Feelings that won't become words — I'll put them on the smoke and breathe them into the sky.)
(For now, that's enough.)
That's what Sasaki thought.
Tayama glanced at him.
"Old man, will you line up at register two again today?"
Her voice held a hint of playfulness.
"Yeah. Of course."
Sasaki nodded.
Tayama smiled happily.
That smile was different from "Yamada's" smile on the clock.
More honest, softer, warmer.
(Ah — I want to protect this smile.)
(I don't want to lose this smile.)
The thought burned strong in Sasaki's heart.
(I'll accept my own clumsiness.)
(I'll protect Tayama-san my own way.)
(Even if I can't put it into words, I'll be right beside her.)
(That's enough.)
Sasaki drew the smoke deep.
It filled his lungs, and he let it out slowly.
＿＿＿
That evening.
Sasaki was washing a mug in the break room of Genki Trading's suburban branch.
"Hey, Sasaki."
Suzuki's voice came from behind him.
"Ah, Suzuki."
Sasaki turned around.
Suzuki stood with his arms crossed, grinning.
"So. What's the real story?"
His voice had turned just a little serious.
"About what?"
"Don't play dumb. That supermarket clerk. Y
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