The Moon’s Ship That Crosses The Night: Chapter 9

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The business trip to Hokkaido was scheduled for the first week of May, during the long holiday break. The trip would last a week, during which LE MIO would set up booths at three different events across the region to conduct product sampling and surveys for Crab Heaven.

On the day of departure, the airport was packed as expected, with vacationers and people returning home for the holidays. To make matters worse, Matsushita, who was supposed to accompany Kawase, arrived thirty minutes late. Even as they were about to board, he was still fiddling with his phone, checking emails, which irritated Kawase every time he caught sight of it.

When Nunomiya had heard about the trip, he had remarked, "So, you're traveling with Matsushita, huh?" To which Kawase had responded, "It's like being shackled to a ball and chain." Nunomiya had laughed much harder than Kawase had anticipated.

Their seats were next to each other, but it wasn’t until they sat down that Kawase realized just how much of a hassle it would be. Matsushita’s large frame spilled out of his seat, making the already tight space feel even more suffocating. Kawase wasn’t exactly short himself, but next to this giant, the sense of confinement was overwhelming. And, as soon as they took off, the brute opened a bag of their company’s snack products.

He eats a lot… Kawase thought, watching out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, Kawase-san, want some?" Matsushita offered.

The fact that he had at least developed the awareness to share was a sign of growth, but Kawase declined without hesitation.

"No thanks."

Yesterday, Kawase had received a call from his uncle, inviting him to dinner.

"I’ve got to prepare for my trip," he had said. "It’s a long one this time—I'll be gone for a whole week. Sorry."

"Where are you headed? Overseas?"

"No, no, just Hokkaido. I’ll be traveling between three events."

"Hokkaido, huh? Nice. All-you-can-eat sea urchin, crab, hokke, and Genghis Khan mutton!"

It had been dinnertime, so, unsurprisingly, his uncle’s mind had gone straight to food. Kawase figured he should at least bring back one of those as a souvenir.

Matsushita, having finished his snack, seemed to be getting bored.

"Kawase-saaan," he said, turning to him. "These airplane seats are pretty cramped, huh?"

"Your body’s just too damn big."

"This is my first time going to Hokkaido. Do you think we’ll see any bears?"

"What, do you think they’re just roaming the streets?"

"But it’s May already, so they should be awake from hibernation, right?"

Every question he asked was so inane, it was exhausting just to respond.

"Hey, I’ve always wanted to ask—Kawase-san, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Nope. And I’m divorced, too."

"That doesn’t matter! If anything, it makes you even cooler."

Cool? What the hell did cool even mean in this context? Kawase had half a mind to challenge him—Explain what you mean by that—but instead, he shut it down.

"I’m tired. Be quiet for a bit."

Finally, the giant beside him fell silent.

For this test marketing project, Kawase had been in frequent contact with a man named Taguchi from the Sales Department at the Hokkaido branch. Despite describing himself as primarily an administrative worker, Taguchi had sharp instincts and was easy to communicate with, which had been a huge help.

Throughout their discussions, the branch president’s name had never once come up. Since test marketing run by headquarters rarely overlapped with the branch’s operations, it wasn’t unusual for discussions to be handled at the section chief level. It was entirely possible that the branch president—the man in question—wasn’t even aware that someone from headquarters was coming.

…Six years ago, it had been that man who had recommended Kawase’s transfer to the Product Planning Department in his second year in Sales.

Back then, he had naively believed that his ideas would be turned into products in no time. Reality, however, was far harsher.

For starters, Kawase had no real understanding of marketing—the very foundation of planning.

At first, his seniors and superiors had welcomed him with smiles. But the moment they realized he didn’t even know the basic terminology, had no product knowledge, and couldn’t contribute anything, their attitudes turned cold.

Panicked, he had started studying, but a few hasty cram sessions weren’t enough to keep up with the job. The only tasks assigned to him were menial, grunt work—things anyone could do.

He had begun to resent the Planning Department.

They’re all so damn arrogant.

He had come from Sales. Of course, he didn’t know anything yet. That was to be expected.

But his colleagues didn’t see it that way.

They wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest delays caused by his lack of knowledge. There was no mercy.

Do I really want to be in planning?

He had gone so far as to sleep with that man to get here.

And yet, the place he had longed for so much turned out to be unbearably miserable.

That day, Kawase was carrying a completed prototype from the research lab to the headquarters at the request of a colleague. The guy was an elite who had been assigned to the Product Planning Department straight out of university, had participated in multiple projects, and even had his own proposals turned into actual products. He had looked so swamped with work that Kawase, who had some free time, had taken on the errand in his place.

As Kawase walked down the hallway with a cardboard box in his arms, he heard a familiar voice coming from the smoking area tucked away by the stairs. It was Zama, the senior from the First Planning Section who had been mentoring him, talking to an employee from the Second Planning Section.

"The guy who transferred in last month, right? He came in with all this fanfare as Shibaoka’s recommendation, but man, he’s useless. I heard he did alright in Sales, but we’re talking about a total amateur here. If he were a fresh graduate, maybe, but dumping someone like that on us is just a burden."

If it had been anyone else in the department saying this, Kawase might have been able to brush it off as "here we go again." But in a workplace where most people were cold to him, Zama had been one of the few who had shown him kindness. The words hit so hard that he felt like he had lost his voice.

"The department head Shibaoka? The guy who got transferred to the Hokkaido branch?" The man from the Second Section exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Yeah. He’s crazy smart, makes quick, precise decisions without any wasted effort. He wasn’t in Planning for long, but every product that came out under him was a hit—that’s still legendary."

"If someone like that backed this newbie, maybe he’ll surprise you?"

Zama let out a sigh so deep it was almost painful to hear.

"I don’t see it happening. I mean, if he really wanted to be in Planning, he should’ve been studying before he even got here. That’s already a deal-breaker. In the end, I think he just liked the idea of being in Planning. You see those types all the time—people who haven’t done a damn thing but somehow think they’re special. That’s the vibe I get from him. I’m supposed to be his mentor, but I’ve already given up on him. Not worth my time."

Without making a sound, Kawase quietly walked away before they noticed him.

After delivering the prototype to the small conference room, he returned to his desk. He sat down but couldn’t bring himself to do anything. There was no work. His hands clenched into tight fists, his teeth grinding together. The words Zama had cut into his chest, leaving a raw, aching wound. He felt like he might cry from sheer frustration, but he swallowed it down.

If he cried, maybe someone would comfort him.

But he knew that behind any kind words would be nothing but ridicule.

From that day on, Kawase threw himself into studying with everything he had. He read through books until he could barely keep his eyes open, sampled every similar product from competitors, and whenever he heard about a restaurant with exceptional food, he paid out of pocket to taste it himself. If you don’t know what the best tastes like, you can’t create something better.

Over time, people started entrusting him with work. For the first six months, he did nothing but support the team, but before a year had passed, he was submitting his own proposals. He even became the leader of a project and brought his own instant cup ramen to market.

In his third year in Planning, a third section was established for the confectionery division, and Kawase was transferred there as a team lead.

The workload exploded overnight. The new division had barely any staff, and he found himself juggling multiple projects at once, staying overnight at the office for days on end. He was so consumed by work that his home life crumbled, and he divorced after just seven months.

Six years had passed since he entered the Planning Department. A lot had happened.

…What started as pretending to sleep had turned into real sleep, and he was jolted awake by the impact of landing. As he waited for his checked baggage after getting off the plane, Matsushita teased him.

"You were totally drooling in your sleep."

Kawase, pretending it was a joke, kicked him roughly in the side.

"Ow! That really hurt!" Matsushita whined, his eyes watering, and for the first time in a while, Kawase felt a little better.

Once they stepped into the airport lobby, he scanned the area. It didn’t take long to spot Taguchi, the man from the Hokkaido branch who would be supporting their test marketing. He had sent a photo of himself in advance.

He was in his early fifties, of average build, with a square face and a short-cropped haircut. Not exactly stylish, but his expression carried a warmth that put people at ease.

After exchanging business cards, Taguchi greeted him with a polite bow.

"You must be exhausted from the long trip. Flying really takes it out of you, doesn’t it?"

Despite Kawase being younger, Taguchi maintained a humble demeanor.

"It's alright. More importantly, we really appreciate you coming all the way to pick us up," Kawase said, bowing his head along with Matsushita.

Taguchi shook his head with a casual "Not at all."

"Our branch is pretty far from the airport. Public transport isn't great either."

They chatted as they walked to the parking lot and got into the company car. Taguchi took the wheel while Kawase and Matsushita settled into the backseat. About ten minutes after leaving the airport, the signs of civilization began to thin out. The road stretched on in monotonous repetition, alternating between forests and fields. Lush green leaves and scattered flowers lined both sides of the road, reminding them of the slow-coming spring in the north.

It was supposed to be about a two-hour drive from the airport. The Hokkaido branch not only served as a sales hub for the region but also functioned as the main import gateway for seafood from Russia. They purchased fish used as umami-rich soup stock ingredients, processed them, and then shipped them to the factory in Tokyo. Processing them on-site cut down on transportation costs compared to shipping the raw materials as they were.

"This car is at your disposal while you're here. You'll need it to get around to the events," Taguchi offered.

"We really appreciate all the arrangements you've made," Kawase replied. They had assumed they’d need to rent a car, so the offer was a welcome relief.

"The higher-ups made it clear that you shouldn’t be inconvenienced in any way," Taguchi said.

It seemed like Arisawa had made sure they were well taken care of. In some places, local staff would claim to support visiting teams for events but take a hands-off approach, so compared to that, this was practically a red-carpet treatment.

Since they had taken an afternoon flight out of Tokyo, they arrived at the airport in Hokkaido a little past three. After the long drive, they finally reached the branch in the evening. Kawase had heard it was located in a small port town, so he had imagined something like a modest factory. But what greeted him was a facility perched on a hill near the sea, surrounded by stark white concrete walls that gave it the imposing presence of a fortress.

Once inside the perimeter, the full scale of the building became clear. Stepping out of the car, Kawase stared in stunned silence. He hadn’t expected it to be this massive. If anything, it looked large enough to fit a small stadium inside.

"This is... incredible," Matsushita murmured beside him.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Taguchi grinned, clearly proud.

"Everyone who visits the Hokkaido branch has the same reaction. As you may know, our main business is processing and selling seafood from local waters. But over the past four years, we've shifted focus—exports to countries like Korea and Russia have surpassed domestic sales. Unlike other branches that mainly handle wholesale, we have our own independent production system."

As they spoke, two fully loaded trucks pulled out of the facility. The surrounding area was spotless, with no stray debris in sight—clear evidence that every detail was being carefully managed.

"It used to be a much smaller operation, but after the current president took over, the business expanded significantly," Taguchi explained.

Following his lead, Kawase and Matsushita entered the building through what they assumed was the back entrance. However, once inside, it became clear that it was actually the main entrance—a simple lobby extended into a long hallway leading further in. The storage area was likely positioned conveniently for truck loading, while the administrative offices were tucked away at the rear. From an efficiency standpoint, it was a well-thought-out layout.

The floor was covered in light brown linoleum, and the walls were stark white. The place felt spacious and new, with a sense of cleanliness—but the sterile, impersonal atmosphere was reminiscent of a hospital. Along the hallway, plates marked the locations of different departments: Accounting at the front, followed by Sales... and at the very end, the President’s Office.

"Oh, right," Taguchi suddenly turned to face them mid-conversation.

"Would it be alright if I introduced you to our president first?"

Kawase instinctively let out a quiet "Eh?" and came to a halt.

"You mean... the branch president?" His words faltered slightly.

"Yes, but there's no need to be formal. Our president is a very easygoing person—employees even call him Shiba-chan."

Taguchi seemed to think that Kawase’s hesitation was just nerves at the idea of meeting the top executive right away.

"He used to be with the Tokyo branch, so there's a chance you've seen him before."

Kawase had expected that he might pass by him in the office or have to greet him at some point. He had considered the possibility, but he wasn’t prepared.

Not to meet that man.

Not since that night in the back alley, when he had punched him to the ground. He hadn’t visited him in the hospital, hadn’t apologized. Now, after all this time, how was he supposed to face him? But with Matsushita standing right there, he couldn’t just blurt out, I don’t want to see him, like some petulant child.

“I, uh… I really appreciate the warm welcome. I’m just a bit surprised. This is my first time having to greet a branch president for something as minor as a business trip…”

“Well, this is our first case of test marketing in the region. And since the president used to work in product development at the head office, he seems especially interested in this one. Now, shall we?”

With Taguchi urging them forward, they stopped in front of the door labeled President’s Office. Kawase’s body tensed involuntarily. He really didn’t want to do this. If he went in, if they came face to face… he might bring it up. He might blame him for what happened six years ago.

Taguchi knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came his voice from inside.

“Excuse us.”

Taguchi opened the door and gestured for Kawase and Matsushita to step in. At this point, there was no way to refuse. Kawase swallowed his trembling and forced himself forward.

The office was about ten tatami mats in size. A large desk sat near the window at the back, and in front of it was a brown leather sofa set. He could sense the man rising from his chair, but with his eyes lowered, the only details he took in were the navy trousers and the sneakers on his feet.

“Thank you for coming all this way. I’m Shibaoka, branch president of the Hokkaido office.”

There was no mistake. It was him.

Still keeping his gaze down, Kawase stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“I appreciate your time. I’m Kawase from the Planning Division, Section Three at headquarters.”

Even during the business card exchange, all he saw was the man’s arm in a light blue company-issued jacket.

“I’m Matsushita, also from Section Three.”

Unlike Kawase, who was on edge, Matsushita bounced forward with his usual carefree energy, bowing with exaggerated enthusiasm. Can’t he act normal for once? Kawase thought irritably, but this wasn’t the time to scold him.

“We’re grateful for your cooperation in this marketing initiative,” he said, sticking to polite, scripted formalities.

“We’re happy to assist however we can,” Shibaoka replied smoothly. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

This was the moment Kawase had been waiting for—Matsushita should hand over the gift now. But his junior stood there, holding the bag in his right hand, completely oblivious.

Before leaving Tokyo, Kawase had bought a few gifts, knowing they’d need to present something to the local management. Meeting the branch president hadn’t been part of the plan, but under these circumstances, giving the gift to the top executive was common sense.

He should’ve told Matsushita this beforehand. But even without being told, this was the kind of basic corporate etiquette he should have figured out on his own.

Kawase discreetly nudged his arm.

“Eh?” Matsushita turned to him, looking puzzled.

Kawase despaired.

“…Give the branch president the gift.”

Only after a whispered instruction did Matsushita finally get the hint. Stiffly, awkwardly, he stepped forward.

“Uh, h-here! It’s nothing special, but please accept this.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Shibaoka said, taking the bag. “Thank you very much.”

Having successfully handed over the gift, Matsushita took a step back, but his foot seemed to catch on itself, and his large frame wobbled dangerously to the right.

Ah—!

Kawase instinctively reached out his hand. But Matsushita managed to steady himself just in time and avoided falling.

Relieved, Kawase lifted his head—only to be struck speechless.

The man standing before him was not the one he remembered.

He was old.

No, not that old. His face hadn’t aged that much. If anything, he still looked relatively young—except for the hair.

His hair was almost entirely white.

Because of that, even though he should only be forty-eight, he looked like someone nearing retirement.

The frame of his glasses hadn’t changed, but the jacket he wore was unmistakably… a work jumper.

The man’s gaze locked onto Kawase, and with an easy, affable smile, he spoke.

“It’s been six years, hasn’t it, Kawase-kun? How have you been?”

The familiar, friendly tone sent a chill down Kawase’s spine.

“President, you know each other?”

Taguchi’s voice was tinged with surprise.

“Kawase-kun and I used to work together in Sales at the head office,” Shibaoka explained. “Even from here, I’ve heard about your accomplishments. You’ve been doing well, it seems.”

“A… ah… Thank you.”

His lips trembled, barely forming the words.

“I had the chance to sample the product in advance,” Shibaoka continued. “It has a classic, timeless taste—something that won’t grow tiresome, which makes it highly marketable across a wide range of demographics. We’ll be backing you fully here, so please feel free to conduct your marketing efforts throughout the region to your heart’s content.”

“Y-yes… Thank you…”

Beside him, Matsushita chimed in, bowing. “Thank you very much for your support—!” His words stretched out lazily, his tone sloppy. It grated on Kawase’s nerves, but he had bigger things to worry about.

“While you’re here, I’ll have Taguchi show you around. For this week, his role will be to fully support you both, so please don’t hesitate to make use of him. If anything comes up, you can let either Taguchi or myself know, and we’ll take care of it immediately.”

Someone of Taguchi’s seniority wouldn’t just be some low-level employee. Lending out a staff member with authority and insider knowledge for an entire business trip was not normal. There was no comparison—this was a special exception.

“And Matsushita-san.”

Matsushita’s name being called so suddenly made him jolt. “Yes?” he answered, tilting his head.

“The work ahead of you will involve direct interaction with people—it’s close to sales. Customers evaluate a product not just by its features but by the way the person presenting it speaks and carries themselves.”

Shibaoka’s voice remained gentle, but his words were pointed.

“The way you extend your sentences makes your speech sound drawn out and careless. You should correct that. Also, when you bow, do it more slowly, with sincerity. Rushing makes it look like you’re just going through the motions.”

Matsushita turned bright red.

“I-I’m sorry…!”

It was the kind of soft, constructive criticism Shibaoka was known for, but for once, Matsushita seemed genuinely flustered.

“Matsushita-san, did you join the Planning Division straight out of university?”

“Ah, y-yes… That’s right…”

“That must be tough. Personally, I believe it’s best to gain experience in other departments before moving into planning and development. If you start on the creation side from the beginning, it’s harder to grasp the teamwork required to get a product to the consumer. But you’re lucky—you have Kawase-kun as your senior. He has plenty of experience in sales, so I’m sure he can teach you a lot.”

Kawase could tell he was being praised.

It didn’t make him happy. Not in the slightest.

“Well then, I’m sure adjusting to a new place will be challenging, but do your best.”

Words of release.

The moment Kawase stepped out of the president’s office, sweat broke out across his entire body. His palms were slick, the sweat beading so much that they nearly slipped in his clenched fists.

There was no mistaking it. The man was perfect.

His consideration toward headquarters personnel, his willingness to cooperate, his measured yet gentle correction of an undisciplined subordinate.

The ideal superior.

Kawase could not reconcile this man with the one from that night.

The man who had taken him into his mouth—who had straddled him and moved his hips so obscenely.

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