Monday morning, the 12th floor of Solarium Tower was tense as always. The message from last night kept spinning in her head. "Did you find it funny?" — that single line was quietly knocking on something deep in Ayano's chest again today. The sender was definitely someone close by. At this point, it was almost a certainty. (So who could it be?) Sitting at her desk, Ayano casually glanced around. Sato next to her had a troubled expression fixed on his screen. Rin Tanaka, diagonally ahead, was typing away with a serious face—a complete change from yesterday's izakaya mood. All the other employees were focused on their morning work. Who could it be...? Just then, the glass-walled office door opened. It was Makoto Kurosawa. Short, neatly trimmed black hair. Sharp eyes behind his glasses. He was holding the report Ayano had submitted. "[cold]Rinzaki" His voice was low. Ayano's shoulders tensed reflexively. "[scared]Yes, Director" "[cold]The basis for these figures is weak. What will you say if the people at Nacht Medical press you on it?" He pointed to a specific spot on the report. Looking at it, the citation source for the market data that formed the premise was indeed vague. (I thought I'd confirmed this...) "[sad]I sincerely apologize. I'll verify it again" She bowed her head. Kurosawa placed the report on Ayano's desk and returned to his office without another word. The sound of the door closing seemed unusually loud. Sato made a small "that's rough" face. Ayano returned a wry smile. --- For lunch, Ayano decided to eat with Rin Tanaka at the employee cafeteria "Cantina Soleil." Around 12:20, the two of them stood in line with their trays. The daily special was 680 yen. Today it was mackerel simmered in miso. "Hey, can I ask you something?" As soon as they sat down at the table, Ayano brought it up. Rin stopped her chopsticks. "What?" "...Have you gotten any anonymous messages from someone in the company?" "Huh, why?" "Well, I just thought... it might be someone I know" She tried to sound casual. Rin tilted her head. "Hmm, I don't know. But come to think of it, Ayano, you've been checking your phone a lot lately, haven't you?" Ayano's heart skipped. "Have I...?" "Yeah, you kind of smile a little every time you get a message" "I do not!" "You totally do. Who's it from?" "...I just thought it might be someone from the company. That's all" Rin's eyes sparkled. Ayano sensed this was about to become troublesome, when she suddenly felt a gaze on her. Kurosawa was standing near the cafeteria entrance. Unusual. The director rarely ate lunch at Cantina—maybe once a month, if that. He was holding a tray, looking for a place to sit. At that moment, Kurosawa's eyes flicked toward them. Ayano instinctively looked away. (Why... of all times...) "Oh, there's the director," Rin said immediately. Her voice was too loud. "[whispers]Your voice, your voice!" Kurosawa sat at a table far from them. Alone. He began eating silently. While eating her mackerel, Ayano found herself glancing at Kurosawa from the corner of her eye. Even the way he ate showed no emotion—his expression was as unreadable as it was during work. Then something came back to her. — The words he'd said this morning when returning the report. "The basis for these figures is weak." Basis. That choice of words. (Wait...) A line from the message she'd received last week echoed in her mind. "It's the basis behind the numbers that creates persuasiveness" — something like that. The same word. "Basis." (...It's just a coincidence, right?) Ayano shook her head. "Basis" was a word anyone in sales would use. It was really reaching. But— "Ayano? Your mackerel's getting cold" "Oh, yeah" As she moved her chopsticks, Ayano looked at Kurosawa one more time. What was he thinking right now? Could she imagine that cold profile belonging to someone who typed gentle messages at night? — No. Definitely not. Absolutely not. --- In the afternoon, Ayano began revising the proposal materials for Nacht Medical. It was tedious work—replacing the market data citation sources that had been pointed out this morning with correct statistical resources. During this time, she kept glancing at Kurosawa's glass-walled office. The blinds were half-drawn. She could see his silhouette. Kurosawa was relentless today too. At 2 PM, he sent back another staff member's materials, saying in a low voice, "This is meaningless." The staff member shrank back to their seat. (I don't think it's that person after all...) She was thinking this when it came time to bring the revised proposal materials to Kurosawa's office. She knocked and entered. Kurosawa's eyes scanned the materials. A long silence. Ayano waited standing. Her fingers touched the three-strand braid behind her left ear. Realizing, she stopped. "[serious]This angle of analysis isn't bad. But dig deeper here" He circled just one spot with a red pen. In that moment—just for an instant, truly just an instant—Kurosawa's expression seemed to soften from its usual rigidity. The corners of his eyes seemed to relax slightly. Ayano didn't miss that change. "[surprised]...Thank you very much for reviewing it" "That's all" His usual dismissal. But today, there was something slightly different about it. She couldn't quite put the difference into words. (Maybe I'm overthinking this) As she left the office and returned to her seat, Ayano let out a small sigh. --- She left work at 7 PM. The night breeze of Toranomon loosened the tension that had settled into her body from work, just a little. Ayano walked toward Shinbashi. She pushed through the noren curtain of "Robata Yorimichi" without any particular reason. She just felt like going to that place. She wanted to sit at the counter, lost in thought amid the smell of charcoal and the aroma of dashi. "[serious]Welcome" Genji Togawa was as taciturn as ever. White chef's coat, salt-and-pepper hair, stubbled chin. When Ayano sat at the counter, he placed a cold beer in front of her without asking. "Thank you" She wrapped her hands around the cold mug. She took a sip. It was bitter, cold, and delicious. "Work again today?" Togawa spoke in a mumble that was neither quite a question nor quite a statement. "Ah, yes... well, various things" "Sounds tough" "It is... but somehow, I feel like things are working out little by little" She was a little surprised at herself for saying it. A week ago, she might not have been able to say something like that. Togawa said nothing and wiped the counter with a cloth. The motion seemed to say "I see." "...Um, can I ask you something a bit strange?" "What is it" "Do you have any regular customers who come alone? A man in his 40s, wearing glasses?" Togawa's hands stopped abruptly. That was answer enough. "I don't talk about my customers" "...Right, I'm sorry" Ayano smiled wryly. But strangely, that "I don't talk about it" answer felt like it confirmed something. A small plate of sashimi was placed on the counter. She hadn't ordered it. "[gentle]...Is this some kind of service?" "Leftover. Eat it" Ayano stared at it for a moment. Then her face broke into a smile. "Thank you" --- She returned to Granvia Ebisu Room 303 after 9 PM. After a shower, she collapsed onto her bed. The potted plant by the window was illuminated by the room's light. She thought she should water it properly, but instead picked up her phone. She looked at the screen. A message had come from that anonymous number. "You worked hard on revising that report today. You fixed the data citation sources properly. I was watching." Ayano froze. The fact that the data citation sources had been fixed. Only the people on that floor today would know that. "I was watching." Something swelled in her chest. Fear and joy mixed together in a way she couldn't quite sort out, all pressing down on her at once. (This person is definitely in the company) It was a certainty now. Someone who had seen her work at her desk today. Someone on the same floor. Various faces flashed through her mind. Sato. Rin Tanaka. Other staff members. And— (Could it possibly be... the director...?) The word "basis" floated through her head again. That momentary change in expression today. The words "this angle of analysis isn't bad." But it was impossible. That cold person couldn't write such warm messages at night. (But... what if) Ayano buried half her face in the pillow, staring at the phone screen. "I was watching" — that one line suddenly felt three times more heart-pounding than before. She tried to compose a reply, typed something, deleted it, typed again. In the end, she sent: "Thank you. I'll do my best tomorrow too." A simple line. But it was all she could manage. She placed the phone on her chest and looked up at the ceiling. Would this investigation work out? More than that, when she found the answer, what would she do? Thinking such things, her eyes gradually closed.