The Moon’s Ship That Crosses The Night: Chapter 10

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After the greetings, they moved to the conference room, where Kawase and Taguchi went over the details for tomorrow’s event. In this port town, a large-scale direct sales event was held every year during Golden Week, and tomorrow was the day. The city’s public sports ground would serve as the venue, and "LEMIO" would have a booth there. The branch office had already secured the space, and while they would be selling their locally produced commercial-use seasonings, right next to them, Kawase and his team would be offering samples of their prototype product. Those who participated in the tasting and filled out a survey would receive a small assortment of the company's snacks as a gift.

"I’ll be bringing two younger employees to help out tomorrow. I’ll have them handle the seasoning sales while I focus on supporting the two of you. The event starts at nine, so we’ll need to have everything set up before then, meaning we’ll have to get an early start," Taguchi explained, pointing at the schedule with his ballpoint pen.

"Have you handled events like this before?"

Taguchi shook his head with a slight chuckle. "Like I mentioned before, this is my first time assisting with marketing."

Then, scratching at his thinning hair, he continued, "That said… the president’s quite knowledgeable about this sort of thing. He taught me a lot—securing booth space, staff placement, all that. And the proposal you sent was really detailed, Kawase-san, so that made our preparations much easier."

Every time he heard that man's influence was at play, something murky and unpleasant settled in Kawase’s chest. He told himself to ignore it, but it kept gnawing at him. What did that man think of him? What was he planning by being so cooperative?

Once the meeting wrapped up, Taguchi drove them to their lodgings. The hotel was about a ten-minute drive from the branch office, located along the coastline. It was called a hotel, but in reality, it was closer to an old-fashioned inn. Looking around, there didn’t seem to be any other accommodations nearby. Given the limited options, the fact that Taguchi had gone out of his way to book a place that at least called itself a hotel felt like a considerate gesture.

Their room was a twin, roughly ten tatami in size. It was clean, but the yellowing wallpaper, the scratched faux-oak table and chairs, and the lingering scent of the Showa era gave away the building’s age. Even the key was attached to one of those long, plastic keychains with the room number engraved on it—something you hardly saw anymore.

Matsushita tossed his bag onto the bed closest to the door and let out a sigh.

"For a hotel, this place is kinda shabby."

His complete lack of awareness toward the effort that had gone into arranging their stay made Kawase so furious he was about to lecture him when Matsushita suddenly continued.

"Now that I think about it, don’t you think the branch president’s kinda scary? He looks gentle, which somehow makes it even worse."

"You only think that because he called you out. He wasn’t wrong, though. What he said was just common sense."

"Well… yeah…" Matsushita averted his gaze, looking sheepish.

"If even someone meeting you for the first time notices how careless your speech and demeanor are, it means they really stand out. You should be more mindful from now on."

Matsushita slumped his shoulders dejectedly.

"I know, but… don’t you think there’s something creepy about that branch president?"

Kawase swallowed hard before asking, "Why would you think that?"

"I thought he was an old man ’cause of all the white hair, but his face isn’t actually that old. The contrast is way too weird. How old is he, really?"

"Forty-eight."

"F-o-r-t-y-e-i-g-h-t?!" Matsushita shouted dramatically. "Not even fifty yet?! If he’s not that old, he should at least dye it or something. Keeping up appearances is part of professional grooming too, isn’t it?"

The way he spoke, as if he had just uncovered some great scandal, left Kawase too exasperated to even be angry.

"Who cares about hair color? It’s not like he’s walking around with a messy head of hair—he takes care of it. Unlike you, at least he doesn’t make people uncomfortable with his attitude."

"Oh please, I definitely think that branch president is creepy."

He sounded like a difficult customer complaining just for the sake of it.

At some point, without realizing it, Kawase had drifted off to sleep.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The next morning, they arrived at the civic ground, which had been transformed into the event venue, at seven o’clock to begin setting up the tents. The "LEMIO" booth was located about twenty meters from the entrance—not too close to the main area, but not too far either.

Since setting up the tent was heavy labor, Matsushita was finally of some use. They were also joined by two more staff members: Hanawa, a well-built man in his late twenties or early thirties who worked as a clerk at the branch office, and Nemoto, a young woman in her early twenties. Nemoto was pale, slender, and had strikingly large, cute eyes. Though Matsushita had a girlfriend, he was clearly trying to impress the pretty newcomer—his usual sluggishness completely vanished as he moved with surprising enthusiasm. He was the classic type who only put in effort when there was a reward in sight.

The "LEMIO" setup consisted of two adjacent tents—one for selling seasonings and the other set up with tables and chairs for filling out surveys. Initially, the tables only had ballpoint pens for writing, but at Taguchi’s suggestion, they also placed a pot of cold water. It was expected to be a hot day, so the idea was to attract visitors looking for a place to rest.

To be honest, Kawase had thought that there wouldn’t be many people showing up right at nine in the morning, but, to his surprise, the free snacks proved to be a powerful draw. The moment the gates opened, visitors started gathering around their booth. In less than two hours, they were already running out of the giveaway snacks.

As he debated what to do, Kawase surveyed the crowd—there was a good mix of people across all age groups, which meant they were getting a well-balanced set of survey responses. Deciding it was worth it, he chose to dip into the stash that had been set aside for tomorrow and asked Taguchi to bring over more supplies.

About twenty minutes later, the additional snacks arrived. To Kawase’s astonishment, the one carrying them was none other than the branch president himself.

"Quite the turnout," the man remarked cheerfully, dressed in a light blue work uniform, smiling as he hefted a cardboard box.

"Pre-President!" Taguchi stammered, clearly flustered, but he was busy handling customers and couldn’t step away. Kawase, too, was occupied explaining the survey process to an elderly woman who looked to be around eighty. His hands and mouth were working at full speed.

Beside him, Matsushita stood idly, doing absolutely nothing. Kawase swiftly kicked him in the side.

With just that one blow, the underling got the message and hurriedly stepped out of the booth. He took the heavy box from the branch president with ease, as if it weighed nothing. By the time Taguchi finished dealing with customers, he motioned for the president to step inside the booth.

"I didn’t expect you to come in person, President. You said you’d have someone bring it over," Taguchi said, his tone slightly accusatory.

The man scratched the back of his head. "Well, you all looked busy."

"If it was that much trouble, we could’ve gone to pick it up ourselves."

"But wouldn’t that take time, going back and forth? The roads are crowded because of the event," the president replied, completely at ease.

Just then, Nemoto, who had stepped away for a moment, returned and perked up when she saw him.

"Oh! It’s President! What brings you here?" she asked as she jogged over.

"I had some time, so I thought I’d check in on everyone," he said.

"Does that mean… you’re here to keep an eye on us?" she teased.

The president let out a hearty laugh. "No need for that. You’re all working diligently. We also have guests from the head office today, so I wanted to see how things were going myself."

As he spoke, his gaze swept across the "LEMIO" booth, taking in the setup and the crowd.

…Their eyes met.

"The survey collection seems to be going well," he said, clearly addressing Kawase.

Kawase responded smoothly, "Thanks to everyone’s help," and used the arrival of a new customer as an excuse to break eye contact.

The additional snacks he had brought in still hadn’t been packed into individual bags. Kawase and Matsushita tried to handle the packing while attending to customers, but there were simply too many people for them to keep up. Leaving the seasoning booth entirely to Nemoto, Taguchi and Hanawa stepped in to help, yet even then, they had to ask visitors to wait before receiving their freebies.

At some point, the man had quietly seated himself at the edge of the booth and started helping with the packing. Now that Kawase thought about it, back when the man worked in sales, he would occasionally step in to assist employees when they were swamped with work.

For employees in other departments, the idea of a department head helping with such menial tasks would have been unthinkable. But this man didn’t have the kind of rigid pride that would prevent him from lending a hand.

The flow of visitors never slowed, and by 3 p.m., the additional snacks were nearly gone. As Kawase debated whether to restock again or call it a day, the man muttered from behind, "Looks like we’re just about done."

"That’s true," Taguchi agreed.

"The event ends at five, after all."

Looking around, Kawase saw that other booths were starting to close, having sold out of their goods. The crowd was also thinning. Factoring in the time it would take to fetch and return with more snacks, stopping now seemed like the best option.

Once the snacks were gone, the taste-testing and survey collection wrapped up as well. They coordinated with the seasoning sales team, who also closed their booth, and began dismantling the tents. By the time they finished and returned to the company, it was already 5 p.m.

"Since we’ve got people from Tokyo here, how about we grab a meal to celebrate their welcome and the success of our first day?" the man suggested.

Hanawa had other plans and left, but Nemoto was eager to go, and since it had been framed as their welcome party, they had little choice but to accept.

The place they were taken to was a small eatery in a fishing village. It seemed newly opened, with a neat and clean interior. They were led to a tatami room in the back, and Kawase made sure to use Matsushita as a shield, avoiding the seat next to the man. Matsushita, now sitting beside the company president, grew noticeably quieter.

The meal was centered around seafood, and everything from the grilled Atka mackerel to the sashimi was delicious. Nemoto, the only woman among them, spoke freely and animatedly, completely unbothered by the situation. Her conversation was lively and amusing, to the point where Kawase momentarily forgot the man was even there and found himself laughing.

"President, my aunt said she’d love to introduce you to someone nice," Nemoto said, slightly tipsy, her usual reservations stripped away as she spoke with the casual tone of a neighborhood gossip.

"Oh?" The man responded with his usual good-natured smile, deflecting the comment with ease.

But Nemoto leaned forward, suddenly insistent. "I’m serious! You’re good-looking, it’s such a waste. My aunt even said, ‘If only I were ten years younger…’"

The man let out a hearty laugh.

"I’m already an old man. It’d be ridiculous for someone like me to talk about marriage."

"You should at least dye your hair! You wouldn’t look like an old man at all if you did."

"Dyeing it sounds like a hassle," the man replied, as if he were engaging with her but not really taking her seriously.

Nemoto pouted. "Then let me dye it for you, just once."

"I’ll pass," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, I’d rather grow old as quickly as possible. I’d like to hurry up and become a frail old man."

"But…" Nemoto pursed her lips. "If only your hair ages first, doesn’t that defeat the purpose?"

She had a point. Seeing the back-and-forth, Taguchi stepped in and lightly scolded Nemoto, "You’re going too far." The man, however, just smiled.

"It doesn’t bother me," he said easily.

"That’s rare," Matsushita suddenly chimed in, seemingly having been listening all along. "Most people don’t want to get older."

The man fell silent for a moment before unexpectedly naming a famous foreign actor, one known for his distinguished older roles.

"I’ve admired him since I was young," he said.

It felt like a lie. But there was no point in calling it out.

Matsushita, despite his large build, couldn't handle alcohol at all, so he was inevitably the designated driver on the way back.

As Matsushita drove the company car back, he suddenly remarked, "You know, the president might actually be a good guy."

They had just been discussing the survey results they had collected that day, so the abrupt change in topic caught Kawase off guard.

"Yeah, I guess," Kawase muttered, slouching deeper into the passenger seat.

"Dinner was on him, and it was delicious," Matsushita added.

Kawase didn’t bother pointing out how food seemed to be Matsushita’s main criterion for judging people. It was too much trouble.

"But still, he’s kinda weird, don’t you think?"

"...In what way?"

"The way he insists on keeping his hair white."

"He just said dyeing it was a hassle."

Suddenly, the car jolted violently, and Kawase was thrown against the seatbelt. The car came to an abrupt stop.

"Hey! That was dangerous!" he barked.

Matsushita hurriedly apologized. "Sorry! The car in front stopped all of a sudden..."

"You’re not familiar with these roads—keep a safe distance!"

Grumbling, Kawase peered through the windshield and let out a small "Oh."

A long line of cars stretched out before them.

At first, he thought it was just a traffic light, but that wasn’t the case.

"Man, what’s causing this jam?" Matsushita sighed.

Kawase readjusted himself in his seat and let out a deliberately exaggerated sigh. "It’s probably because of the event."

"That could be it..."

The car inched forward at a painfully slow pace, barely crawling along. The opposite lane, on the other hand, was wide open, with cars cruising by effortlessly. Every passing vehicle made their own situation feel even more frustrating.

Then, four fire trucks sped past on the other side of the road, one after another. Their sirens weren’t on, so they were probably heading back after finishing their work.

"Think there was a fire somewhere?" Matsushita mused, watching them disappear in the rearview mirror, his tone as relaxed as ever.Bottom of Form

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