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“You seriously can’t even do something this simple?”
“…!”

The sudden yelling from a guy old enough to be my dad made me flinch.

“I-I’m really sorry.”
“Anyone can say sorry. You’re a working adult getting paid a salary, so you need to show results.”

The (combover-haired) department chief kept going on and on with his nagging. I let his complaints go in one ear and out the other while thinking about my dear childhood friend. I just wanted to hurry home and let her heal me.

“Are you even listening?”
“I am.”

I am not.

“Seriously, young people these days have no backbone. It’s pathetic.”

Shut up, you bald old man. Expecting someone who got transferred from another department with zero training to perform at full speed in just a week? Get real.

“You’re not going home until you finish this today!”
“Ugh… Again?”
“’Again’?! What do you mean ‘again’?! You’re too slow, so obviously, you need to work overtime to make up for it!”

A week ago, I got dumped into this hellhole of a department where this bald jerk acts like a king. My old workplace was chill—no one yelled, and overtime was rare. But here? The last person couldn’t handle the constant power harassment, sexual harassment, and every other kind of harassment and just quit on the spot. And lucky me, I got picked as their replacement.

Of course, someone who rage-quit didn’t leave behind any proper documentation. So I was thrown into a completely different kind of work with zero knowledge and expected to keep up.

I figured this kind of thing happens, so I sucked it up and took the transfer. But then the overtime hell started. By the time I got to Ibuki’s place, I was so drained I could barely cook dinner, let alone hold a conversation. If I couldn’t even see Ibuki—literally the only thing keeping me going—then what was the point of working?

“I’m heading home, but you better have that report done by the end of the day.”
“Alright.”

Not like arguing would do any good, so I just dragged myself back to my desk.

“Haaaaah…”

With the office finally empty, my sigh wouldn’t bother anyone.

“I just wanna go home… I need Ibuki to heal me…”

I wasn’t planning on going to Ibuki’s today since I was just there yesterday. But if I don’t see her regularly, my stress is gonna pile up so bad that I might actually deck this bald b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲.

“Alright, screw it. Once I finish this, I’m heading to Ibuki’s.”

I blitzed through the paperwork at top speed and dashed out of the office. But even then, by the time I made it to Ibuki’s place, it was already past midnight.

“Ibuki… might already be asleep.”

Even though she was a night owl, it was already 12:30 AM. She might have gone to bed by now. Thinking that, I didn’t ring the intercom and instead used my spare key to quietly unlock the front door. However, light was leaking from Ibuki’s workspace.

I didn’t really understand what Ibuki did for work, but she had told me not to enter the room where her impressive PC was set up. Still, I desperately needed comfort right now. Without hesitation, I crept up to the door, cracked it open, and did something I normally would never do.

“BOO!!”
“Hiiee!?”

I threw open the door and raised my voice slightly to startle her. If this were my place, I wouldn’t be able to make a loud noise at this hour, but Ibuki’s apartment had good soundproofing—probably a perk of the high rent. It should be fine.

“Wh-What!?”
“Hehe, I came over~.”

Ibuki had an even better reaction than I expected. Her eyes darted around in panic, completely taken aback. When was the last time I saw her like this?

“Sorry for dropping by so late. I just really wanted to see you.”
“Eh, ah, no, I don’t mind the time, but can you… be quiet for a sec?”
“Why?”
“Just be quiet. Seriously. Yu—I mean, you, just wait outside the room for now.”
“…Huh?”
“Hurry. Get out.”

She all but pushed me out of the room. Once I was outside, Ibuki quickly shut the door behind me.

“…No way.”

Left standing in the pitch-dark hallway, I let out a breath of disbelief.

I had never really acted clingy toward Ibuki before. But on the rare occasions when I did, she never pushed me away—she always comforted me, easing my pain. We had been together for over twenty years, yet this was the first time she had ever treated me like this.

And more than anything, she had never—not even once in my entire life—called me ‘You’ instead of my name.

Had I done something to upset her?

Objectively speaking, showing up at a friend’s house unannounced in the middle of the night was completely inappropriate. But this was us—I had believed it would be fine. Maybe I had overstepped. Maybe, as the saying goes, even close friends should maintain a certain level of courtesy.

“…Sorry. I’ll go home.”

Even saying it in a whisper, I knew Ibuki wouldn’t hear me from inside the room. But I didn’t have the courage to say it to her face. If she pushed me away again, I might actually start crying.

Had she started to hate me?

Ibuki was usually so easygoing—she had never been the type to fight with anyone. And yet, she had spoken to me in such a cold, dismissive tone. That could only mean she was seriously upset with what I had done.

“…Maybe this is the end.”

Friendships could fall apart over the smallest things. Even back in high school, I had lost touch with friends after minor disagreements turned into something irreparable. Even if Ibuki and I had the label of childhood friends, that was just a bond formed naturally because our parents were close. It wasn’t something we had chosen for ourselves.

In the end, maybe our relationship was just as fragile as any other friendship—ready to snap at any moment.

The late-night streets were empty. If I cried, no one would see me.

But strangely, no tears came. Instead, I just wandered home in a daze, the shock of Ibuki’s rejection leaving me numb. I moved at a snail’s pace, lost in thought, as if my body had forgotten how to walk any faster.

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