That Half-Finished Drink Was Lethal— What Happened When I Left My Bottle Behind in a 1:4 Male-to-Female World - 6

Chapter 6: That Breath Is Lethal

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Reika’s POV

『The truth is not found in numbers, but in what manifests on the front lines.』

That was my personal credo. As the next successor to the Otori Group, I regularly hid my true identity to conduct “mystery shopping” at the store I managed, the cafe “Les Ailes.” Donning a mask known as a disguise, I observed whether the low-level employees were upholding Otori’s discipline or if they were devaluing the brand. What was projected onto my lenses was a heartless death sentence known as a “personnel evaluation.” The target at that time was a man rumored to be “far too nice” at the branch, Yuu Yuuki.

(I shall personally deliver the final rites to any incompetent who cannot follow the Otori standard.)

With that “holy war” in mind, I stepped into this grimy workplace in the role of a trainee named Reika.

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“Excuse me. Starting today, I will be training at this location. My name is Rei… no, Reika.”

For a moment, I thought of using a pseudonym, but I dared to use my real name.

(After all, no one would ever imagine I am that Reika Ootori, the next successor of the Otori Group, would they?)

However, I felt the air in the store freeze instantly the moment I spoke. It was the elite education I had received since childhood as a member of the Otori family. My carriage, which lacked even a single opening. It was the proof of an absolute “severance” that froze the peace of the commoners.

(Even with a mask called a disguise, it seems I could not fully hide the overwhelming aura I exude.)

“A-Ah, so you’re the newcomer. Your supervisor will be Yuu Yuuki-kun here. Yuu, I’ll leave her to you.”

The manager spoke quickly, as if fleeing from the frigid light dwelling in my eyes, and vanished into the backroom.

(Has the manager noticed me already? …No, that’s impossible. My disguise is perfect. She was simply overwhelmed by my aura.)

Left behind, the man stepped forward in front of me with a troubled, wry smile.

“Nice to meet you, Reika-san. I’m Yuuki. You don’t have to be so nervous. This cafe is a fun place.”

He offered his right hand defenselessly, filled with friendliness.

“Thank you for your kindness, Yuuki-sama. I shall strive to become a useful asset as quickly as possible. I look forward to your guidance.”

(…What is with this man? To smile so casually and offer his hand in the face of my intimidation as ‘Reika Ootori.’ Rude, how incredibly rude! As expected, commoners are filthy! …Well, I suppose his looks at least meet the passing grade.)

I pushed up my glasses with a flick of my finger and deployed the “Otori Checklist” within my mind.

(Yuu Yuuki: First impression. Overfamiliarity that disregards social standing. Evaluation:X.)

A holy war to eliminate “weak-willed incompetents” who would smear mud on the brand I built, “Les Ailes.” If this man was an existence unworthy of the “correct answer” I defined, I would cut him loose immediately. It was as simple as that.

“Well then, let’s start with the basics of customer service. Oh, looks like we have a customer.”

The person who entered was a rather stout middle-aged man.

(A regular, high-dependency customer. Three parfaits. Increase in average spend per customer. Contribution to sales: high. Here, I should stack ‘seasonal limited toppings’ and ‘suggestions for additional orders’ to secure further profit…)

“Sato-san, why don’t we stick to just one parfait today?”

My thought process came to a physical halt. He had lowered the menu and was gazing at the customer with a troubled, yet somehow tender look.

“I heard from your wife, you know. That you’ve been worried about your blood pressure lately. If you eat three of them here today, she’ll just be mad at you again starting tomorrow, right? In exchange, I’ll give you a free sample of our new sugar-free herbal tea. How about it?”

“…You got me, I’m no match for you, Yuu-kun. Alright, I guess I’ll go with one parfait and that tea today.”

The customer named Sato sat down, laughing happily for some reason.

(What did you say…?! To throw away profit of one’s own accord is an act unbecoming of a businessperson! Otori Regulation Article 12: ‘Loss of sales opportunity.’ Evaluation:a fatal X!)

After that, “X”s were fired off in rapid succession within my brain. A child crying after dropping their soft-serve ice cream in front of the store. Yuu rushed over immediately, heedless of the dirt as he lowered himself to the child’s eye level to talk, and gave them a new soft-serve ice cream as a gift on his own authority. The child stopped crying but left without even saying thank you.

(There, you see! There is no meaning in doing such things!)

(Otori Regulation Article 5: ‘Loss of prestige.’ Kneeling before the lower classes is unacceptable. Furthermore, to leak the store’s raw material costs based on personal whims. Evaluation:a hopeless X!)

Furthermore, a female customer who continued to cry with her face down even after the table’s time limit had passed. The moment I was about to announce “Time is up,” he stopped me and softly offered a warm cup of coffee.

“Please take your time. You can stay here as long as you like, until you feel better.”

I was utterly exasperated.

(A decrease in turnover rate. This man is far too distant from the Otori ‘correct answer’ that prioritizes efficiency above all else. Yuu Yuuki… your termination is confirmed for next week. Ohohoho…!)

“Aha… ha-ha.”

Disguising the high-pitched laughter that almost leaked out with a strained cough, I scribbled a large X into my black notebook.

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Several days passed. My evaluation sheet was now so filled with “X”s that there was no more white space left. However, a few days later.

“Yuu-kun, thank you for the other day. Thanks to you, I managed to avoid having my wife leave me. These are apples sent from my hometown; please, everyone have some.”

Sato-san, whose order had been stopped the other day, appeared with a mountain of gifts. A fruit called “trust” that never appeared in raw material cost calculations. And on another day.

“Big brother Yuu, sorry about the other day! Thank you!”

The child who dropped the soft-serve came back, this time bringing his mother. The mother said, “My son insisted on coming here to say thank you. Please let my whole family have a meal here today,” and ordered a luxurious full-course meal. And then, the woman who had been crying over a broken heart. She now visited the store frequently with a bright face, bringing her friends.

“I was so happy that you didn’t kick me out then. I’ve become a fan of this place.”

I came to a stop behind the counter.

(…What is the meaning of this? This shop, which should have thrown away sales, dignity, and efficiency… why is it overflowing with more vitality than before?)

In my Otori education, I was taught that people are moved by fear and profit. But the scene before my eyes was being moved by “something” that wasn’t in the manual.

“…Reika-san? Is something wrong? You look pale.”

(Eek…! Every time Yuu Yuuki looks at me with concern, my heart leaps with an unpleasantly violent force.)

“It is nothing! I simply… believe this is an inefficient workplace!”

“Ahaha, I guess so. Well, efficiency is important, but if the customers smile, I figure that’s the ‘correct answer.’ Like, if I’m having fun, the other person will have fun too. So, why don’t you try having some fun for now?”

(Having fun…? To say such an irresponsible thing to me, who has sacrificed my entire life to the ‘Otori’ answer…!)

Something inside my heart creaked violently.

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At dusk. In the back seat of a luxury limousine, I tore off my black wig. Bathed in the evening sun, my jewel-like blonde hair spread throughout the car. I threw my glasses out the window and stared at the “Otori Checklist” remaining in my hand. There, over the countless “X”s, I drew a powerful, almost maddeningly large “Hanamaru” flower-mark.

“Yuu Yuuki…”

Just speaking that name made the depths of my chest burn hot, and an indescribable elation surged through my body. He had brilliantly repainted my world, where I believed discipline was absolute, with his grimy “niceness.”

He had proven the warmth of the human heart, which cannot be measured by numbers, with such lightheartedness. That brilliance, so innocently hateful yet stronger than anyone’s, now appeared in my eyes as the most precious “correct answer” of all.

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The following night. For a complete rearrangement of the store interior, the late-night shop was enveloped in a chilly silence, as if the daytime hustle and bustle were a lie.

“…Ngh, …j-just a bit more…!”

I had rolled up the sleeves of my unfamiliar work clothes and was desperately supporting the edge of a heavy iron fixture. My fingertips were numb, and the smell of iron rust clung to my palms. Supporting the same fixture on the diagonal, he moved forward one steady step at a time, despite the beads of sweat on his neck.

“Reika-san, just a bit more. Hang in there…!”

“I am… well aware…!”

It was then. The sole of my shoe slipped on a floor tile that was peeling off.

“Ah…”

The fixture, losing its balance, tilted ruthlessly toward me. The mass of iron blocked my vision, and I closed my eyes in anticipation of death. At that moment…

“Watch out!”

With a strong impact, my body was sent flying to the side. No, I wasn’t sent flying. His sturdy arms forcibly pulled my waist toward him and shoved me against the wall behind us.

THUD!!!

A heavy sound echoed, and the fixture sank onto the floor.

“Hah, …hah, …are you okay, Reika…san?”

Right before my eyes was his chest. The violent amount of heat transmitted through his work clothes. From his fingers gripping my slender shoulders, a Herculean strength that could crush boulders was transmitted.

“…A… ah…”

(I cannot find my voice.)

In front of my eyes, I was captivated by the movement of his Adam’s apple and the copper-colored skin peeking out from his disarranged collar. The “beauty” that existed in my world was refined, polished, and quiet. But what lay before my eyes then was a brilliance of “life” that was so raw, covered in sweat and mud. His heartbeat, which had leapt up to protect me, hammered directly against my own heart through our pressed chests.

(…Ah …my goodness…)

At that moment, something within me certainly shattered with a “snap.” Having finally finished all the work, we returned to the breakroom.

“Sorry… just five minutes… let me sleep for a bit…”

The moment he collapsed into a folding chair, he fell into a deep sleep in an instant. However, in my eyes, the world looked as if it were burning bright red. The blood flowing through my veins was hot and violent, like boiling water, racing through my entire body.

(It is far too quiet.)

He, making regular, defenseless breathing sounds. I, repeating strained, hitching breaths. That contrast fueled my abnormality.

(-..I must… confirm it. …That terrifying strength from earlier. Where did it reside?)

As if drawn in, I knelt beside him. My trembling fingertips reached toward his abdomen, the “crease” where his work clothes were pulled tight.

“…Hard. …No way. Is this truly a human being…?”

The moment my fingertips touched his muscles, sparks flew in my brain.

“Ah, it’s hot. My… my fingers feel as though they might melt…! …Ngh. If I do not know… even more deeply, I shall fail as a trainee, shall I not…?”

I could no longer stop. I began to grope his abdomen as if cherishing a forbidden fruit. The undulations transmitted to my fingertips. The hot, hot sensation of flesh.

“…Nnh… haa, …haa! …It’s good, so very good…! This grimy body of yours is driving me mad…!”

Before I knew it, I had buried my face in the crook of his neck.

“…Ah, …it’s hot, the scent, the scent… it smells of a man…!”

My vision is already completely red. My passion has burned away the blue light of dawn. His lips, thrown out without caution. Like a lush, fully ripened fruit.

Gulp.

Facing that alluring texture, I quietly made a sound in my throat, like a hungry beast cornering its prey.

(I must not… if I cross this line, I shall truly…)

The final seawall of my reason was screaming. But those lips before me were opened defenselessly. Every time his heavy sighs leaking from there tickled the tip of my nose, my brain felt as if it were numbing and melting from the core.

“…Ngh… …Ah…”

I traced my own trembling lips with my finger. The pride of the Otori family, the proof of purity. Such burdens seemed terribly empty and obstructive to me now. I wanted to drink “poison” that was him until the very end. I wanted to savor his life down to the very last drop.

“Mwah… nngh… mwah… nnnnh!!”

Finally, I reached the limit of my patience. I cupped his face with both hands and sealed his lips as if to steal them, as if to devour them. It was sweet. Even though it was mixed with the taste of mud and coffee, it was sweeter and hotter than any high-class confectionery I had ever tasted.

“……Ahhhhh! Wonderful, you are wonderful…! More, defile me more…! Defile me into a complete mess with those filthy hands of yours…!!”

Discarding the remnants of my lady-like speech, my hand reached toward a further “unknown,” the seam of his trousers.

“…Here. …This is my… my true site of holy war…! Show me, show it to me, your…! …You!!”

The moment my fingers caught that “bulge.”

Thump!

The greatest shock of my life struck my medulla oblongata directly. My brain, falling into hyperventilation, finally reached the limit of its activity.

“…Ah… aha… …I am… so happy…”

My vision rapidly darkened, and like a doll whose strings had been cut, I lost consciousness as I slumped over his body.

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Feeling a searing heat behind my eyelids, I allowed my consciousness to surface. When my vision opened, what was there was the inorganic gray ceiling of the breakroom.

“…Oh…?”

I realized that I was slumped awkwardly on the floor. Every joint in my body ached. And more than anything, what I was currently cradling was the ankle of the man who was still sleeping on the folding chair.

“Wh… W-W-W-What is the meaning of this scandalous posture…!”

I leapt up as if struck and straightened the hem of my disarranged work clothes. My heart was pounding like a bell in the depths of my ears.

(…It-It was a dream. Yes, I must have seen a hallucination due to overwork!)

(That must be it. I am the proud Reika. There is no way I would do such a barbaric, unseemly thing. That was an ill-natured nightmare shown by the magic of the dead of night.)

I told myself this and tried to stand up, pretending my temperature was normal. However…

“…Mm.”

Suddenly, there was a strange sensation in my mouth. The tip of my tongue unconsciously traced my lips.

“…?!”

There, the remnants of last night were clearly etched. The flavor of iron rust, sweat, and the bitter-sweet taste of the cheap coffee he had drunk. The “taste” of that man, far too raw for a dream, clung to the depths of my mucous membranes and would not leave. The memory of the elasticity of those steel-like abdominal muscles and that heat that felt as though it would explode…

“Ah… ah… ah…”

It was not a dream.

(I have done it.)

Throwing away my dignity as a lady, my upbringing, and the pure soul I had protected until now. To that grimy man, of my own accord… I pressed my trembling hand to my mouth and slumped to my knees.

(…What shall I do… I… I can no longer go back.)

The morning sun shining through the window was different from yesterday; it shone down upon my sin with terrible cruelty and an almost frightening sensuality.

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