"One thousand yen, please."
"I'll help you pack it, respected Ms."
At the checkout counter, Fujii Shu finished the transaction, carefully packed the oden radish and kombu into a paper bag, and handed it to the customer, watching them leave.
Japan's service industry is renowned across Asia, but behind its high standards lies a relentless exploitation of service workers.
Take Fujii Shu's job as a convenience store clerk, for example. Employees are required to maintain a "standing smile" service posture throughout their shifts. Both part-timers and full-timers must stand the entire time and respond promptly to every customer request.
Additionally, Japan's stifling social environment often leaves people bottling up frustration. With convenience stores located every few steps, competition is fierce, making clerks an easy target for venting grievances. Complaints from customers over trivial matters are common.
Once, Fujii Shu had been verbally attacked by an unreasonable woman.
The reason? The store provided disposable chopsticks instead of a fork with her instant noodles.
Click—
As Fujii Shu idly stirred the oden in the electric pot, Sakurako Yuko emerged from the staff break room.
Her drab green uniform had been replaced by a loose camel wool coat, paired with a knitted white top with a cozy collar.
Gone was the plain green skirt; in its place was a daringly short black pair of shorts, revealing her flawless legs. She wore pile-up white loose socks with black Mary Jane shoes.It's clearly shaped like a pant leg, covering neither the feet nor the shoes, so who knows why it's called a sock?
Despite her petite feet, even size 35 shoes seemed oversized for her 162 cm frame.
Yoko walked while touching up her makeup with a small mirror in hand, her right arm carrying a black tote bag. In mere moments, she had transformed from a run-of-the-mill convenience store clerk to a pure and elegant city girl.
"Yuko-senpai, you look pretty today."
"Have a date tonight?"
Fujii Tree cast his gaze and politely complimented. Although he's indeed thinking so in his heart.
"No, not at all, just felt like dressing up..."Japan, deeply influenced by China, has a cultural habit of expressing oneself with humility.
Yuko put away her small mirror and answered with a smile. As expected, girls always enjoy hearing compliments about their looks.
Women are creatures who thrive on compliments.
For them, compliments have a shelf life.
If you tell her she's beautiful in the morning, she might ask again at noon, evening, or even the next day. Different moments, outfits, or speakers all make it a fresh experience.
Men, on the other hand, are simpler creatures.
Praise a man for being handsome at eighteen, and he'll remember it fondly even at eighty.
"It's not a date. My club's hosting a welcome party, and as vice president, I have to attend," Yuko explained.
Being complimented by a good-looking guy like Fujii Shu visibly brightened her mood, making her open up more than usual.
Of course, certain thoughts were better left unsaid.
For example, her polished appearance wasn't for the party itself but to potentially attract wealthy suitors.
Landing a rich partner would mean clearing her student loans and escaping the grind of convenience store work altogether.
"I see. Have fun, senpai. I'll handle the store," said Fujii Shu.
"Okay, bye-bye!"
Yuko waved lightly, pausing at the automatic door as if she remembered something. She hesitated, then walked back.
"Um, Fujii, have you noticed...?"
Standing at the counter, Yuko leaned forward, resting her hands on the edge. Her beautifully made-up eyes locked directly onto Fujii Shu with an unyielding gaze.
"Noticed what?"
Fujii Shu asked instinctively.
"Well..." Yuko's gaze wavered, her pink lips parting slightly. "I think the store manager... might have a crush on you."
"Huh?!"
Yuko's words were nothing short of shocking.
Fujii Shu raised an eyebrow, his expression full of disbelief.
Manager Matsumoto?
Likes me?!
His mind conjured the image of a woman in her thirties—youthful, fair-skinned, with a curvaceous figure brimming with charm: Matsumoto Yuriko.
"Yuko-senpai, that's not funny," Fujii Shu said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Matsumoto was nearing forty, already married, and probably had kids older than him. There was no way she'd harbor feelings for a first-year college student.
Fujii Shu never entertained pipe dreams about being spoiled by a wealthy woman to achieve overnight success.
He believed in self-reliance.
"I was just speculating. Women's intuition is usually pretty accurate..." Yuko averted her gaze awkwardly.
"Anyway, it's getting late. Bye, Fujii!"
"Take care, Yuko-senpai," Fujii Shu said, dropping the matter as he turned back to tending the oden pot.
..............
At 9 p.m., after finishing his shift handover with his colleague on the night shift, Fujii Shu changed back into his casual clothes in the break room. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he headed to the train station to catch a private railway back to Minami-Senju.
Holding a discounted bento in one hand, Fujii Shu stood in front of the gate to his house. He subconsciously glanced at the garage.
As expected, his aunt, Momonoki Eiko, hadn't gotten off work yet.
Click.
He opened the door and stepped into the entryway, ready to change into his slippers,and put her body on her knees.
Whoosh—
A small figure darted toward him at lightning speed, skidding to a halt at his feet.
"Welcome home, Onii-chan!"
Airi obediently knelt in front of Fujii Shu, taking his designated slippers out of the shoebox, and flashed a bright smile on her face.
"You've worked so hard. Please, change into these slippers," she said.
Shimizu Airi placed the slippers by Fujii Shu's feet.
If an outsider were to see this scene, they might mistake her for a perfect, traditional wife—an idealized "Yamato Nadeshiko."
Fujii Shu's eye twitched. After a moment of contemplation, he muttered,"....are you crazy?"
Be arrogant at first and respectful later? Ridiculous!
Shimizu Airi's exaggerated courtesy screamed ulterior motives.
Her expression froze briefly at the insult, but she quickly regained composure, feigning innocence.
"Did I do something wrong, Onii-chan?"
/Zako!Zako!Zako!!!Damn this pest! How dare he call me crazy!/
/Pfft, pfft, pfft!/
/Ridiculous! You're the crazy one, your whole family is!/
Airi silently reminded herself: Not yet. Now isn't the time to flip the table. I must make him lower his guard!
Shimizu Airi, troubled by his words, curled her small feet, clad in white velvet stockings, together behind her and twisted them nervously.
It felt like her chest had swelled with anger.
"You didn't exactly do anything wrong..."
Fujii Shu stepped into his slippers as Airi swiftly stowed his casual shoes into the cabinet.
"But you did gross me out."
Ignoring Airi, who remained kneeling on the floor, Fujii Shu probed further.
Aii's smile stiffened, her movements faltering for a moment.
Meanwhile, the voice inside her head raged: How dare you! How dare you! How dare you!
Fujii Shu, mark my words. One day, you'll be throwing yourself at my feet, begging for forgiveness!