"And we've arrived at our last stop, ladies and gentlemen… to the capitalist castle..."
The gleaming glass high-rise building reflected the late morning sun. KHX—the logo gleamed clean and confident. He looked it up lazily as he parked his scooter, then strode into the building. Renji gives a sloppy nod for the security guard who barely lifted his gaze as he checked his bag.
The building's interior is as expected, marbled floor probably cost more than his annual rent, metal supports spaced evenly apart like a mirror reflecting his face.
Straight to the lobby, then he stopped before the receptionist behind the desk with its massive backlit signage: KHX. Kin no Hato Express (金の鳩エクスプレス).
"Morning. Delivery from WaraGyo." Renji put the red-ribboned paper bag above the desk.
"Good morning, sir. Food delivery for 205, yes?"
"Yep, same old."
"Then, please sign here," she gestured toward the guest-log, while sliding the money inside an envelope towards him.
"Okay, that's all. Thank you for your patronage."
As he bowed and turned to leave, he couldn't help but smile sarcastically.
Same room. Exact same menu... Third week straight now… Hell of a choice for someone with a private office…
"Welp, time to slack off before going back…"
Now a second nature to him, he walked around to the far back of the office lobby. There was a small glass greenhouse garden tucked away, wasn't as grand as a public park. A few benches, and one particular tree Renji had come to love. Its branches spread wide above the greenhouse ceiling, offering a comfy, shaded spot. His favorite spot was right under.
Renji sat down with a sigh while feeling the cold breeze, He glanced around at the glass walls where a thin dusting of snow clung like powdered sugar, soft and fleeting. Beyond the fogged edges, the late morning sun was still bright. The light gave the snow a faint, glittering sheen, and for a moment, everything felt—peaceful.
…Really, a nice place to rest even in winter… anyway…
"Man… don't know how Tetsuo did it, thought for sure he'd go under last year…"
... And last year, I definitely never delivered here before...
But now, several weeks into Renji continuing working here again, it seemed that it had worked out. The business was stable. His deliveries had become a morning routine.
And for the most part, I'm glad old Tetsuo's pulling it off…
Then he took out his notebook from his sling bag—the one he always brings around. He opened to the latest page. Just to pause for a second while twirling his silver stainless steel pen, until he decided to write something.
'3 December 2024'
"...Daily life of a delivery man, huh..."
Honestly… too mundane…
Half-self-depreciating laugh escaping his lips. He shook his head but wrote the thought down anyway, even if it felt stupid.
Everyone wanted spectacle. Twists, fantasy, scandal. But what about the quiet, unnoticed lives? What about a single dad with his kids, sisters pretending to be okay, strangers hiding tremors in their hands? Weren't those stories too?
"Doubt it'll win the competition tomorrow…"
Still, he didn't close the notebook. Renji scribbled the words floating in his mind to the paper.
Is this really what I want to write…?
He glanced around as if looking for affirmation, at the way the tree's rustling leaf swayed with the wind, the faint sound of the city beyond the glass. Then he looked back to the lobby far behind. People walked past in heels and suits and Bluetooth earpieces as if they were born with it.
I don't want to be like them... But I did envy that sense of direction they have...
Renji's pen letting out soft scratches on the paper, his writing was messy on most part, trailing off where he'd lingered too long to think, and oftentimes, he simply sighed in the middle of writing down everyone he met today.
They're all part of my routine… Wonder if I'm part of theirs too…
The sensation of time returned when he heard it—the faint, gentle water pouring onto soil.
"Hmm?" Renji looked up to the sound.
In the distance, past the cobbled path, stood a woman. Her back was to him, framed by the light filtering through the garden's foliage. She stood by a row of planter beds, tending to the flowers. Even from this distance, Renji recognized her silhouette.
…Her again? What? Maybe the ninth? Tenth?
It wasn't the first time he'd seen her. If he does sees her, she always shows up around the same time of day, always alone, doing the same thing.
Today, it was a dark teal blouse, with sleeves rolled just enough to hint at tailored cuffs. Her velvet black skirt wrapping her in clean lines.
Renji frowned, his casual glance becoming a full-on stare at her back.
Damn sure that's not a uniform… even I can see that stuff not cheap. What kind of gardener dresses like that?
Her posture alone said she belonged to the building, not to the soil she watered. For the longest time, Renji had assumed she was part of the building staff. Maybe someone from admin stuck with some leftover garden chores nobody wanted. But that assumption got harder to hold with each passing visit.
Corporate queen…? Not even some employee, let alone a groundskeeper…
Just as he narrowed his eyes in quiet scrutiny, the woman's hand stilled mid-pour.
Without turning, without so much as glancing over her shoulder, she spoke. And her voice cut clean across the greenhouse.
"No one ever told you it's rude to stare at a woman like that?"
His thought scattered at the voice he heard for the first time, her voice was soft, mature, smooth, firm, all at once. The kind that didn't ask for attention but held it anyway. He straightened his body in reflex.
"…Sorry, didn't mean to... it's just… odd."
She still didn't turn around. Now kneeling beside the planter bed with elegance, she tilted the watering can, letting another slow pour fall at the roots of a blooming hyacinth.
"Odd?"
"… Uuh… the outfit," Renji said, glancing down at her head to toe. "Too dressy for some… gardening… Kinda hard not to notice."
Finally, she turned her head slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of her profile, a beautiful half-Japanese face. Her ash-brown, shoulder-length hair swayed with the motion. The glance from her eyes shot straight at Renji's. Her voice followed a beat later.
"So, you stare at people who don't fit your assumptions? That's bold, for someone in a borrowed space."
"Huh?"
"This is a private garden," she said evenly.
"…The front sign says 'open space' though?"
"It is. For employees."
"Been coming here for weeks. Figured it was fine… No one's kicked me out..."
"Spoken like a true homeless… Do you always camp out under trees and stares at women for days?" The glass in front of her reflecting her pale face, between disapproval and loose interest.
"…Haaah… Just trying to eat up some time before going back…" he sighs, voice more casual than he felt. "Didn't know this nice and peaceful garden came with a fashionably attired security head."
"So, homeless and a slacker." The woman adds while plucking out the unwanted weed on the ground.
...Whoa… ouch… I'm not slacking off… no… I am, huh…
Then Renji continues. "Anyway… If that's the case… you should've told me to leave first time you saw me…" He scratched his hair in confusion.
"I was about to, in the beginning," she said, continuing slowly. "You kept showing up. Around ten, like clockwork. You sit. You write—bad posture, by the way. You sigh too much. You steal glances this way when you think I'm not looking. And you always leave a moment later, hunched over like you've aged ten years…"
She pulled out a small weed from the soil, brushing her hands together with a soft clap.
"…At some point, suspicion gave way to something else. Pity, perhaps."
Renji could feel the corner of his lips twitching in annoyance.
The hell…You keep track…?
"You've been observing me that closely…? I should feel flattered…"
"You've got a smart mouth for a slacker." She gave a faint sigh, something almost like a scoff, but not quite a laugh. Then turned back to her flowers.
Ouch…
Renji felt a knife jab straight through his conscience.
"—And here I thought you were supposed to be writing," she added, gesturing with slight nod to his direction. "But I suppose playing critic comes easier."
Oouuuchhh…
"… Damn... You always talk like this?"
"And do you always act like this? Right now, I'm just curious why a man who loiters here like he owns the place—and stares and says this much—has never once said hello."
He stared at her, then down at the open notebook resting on his thigh. Seconds passed until he gave a faint, defeated sigh.
"…Alright. Hello."
After that, she turned to face at him properly this time. A flicker of amusement passed over her face. As she nodded once.
"Hello."
Then, just like that, she turned to her own world again soon after.
She didn't talk anymore. She just kept tending to the plants, half-shadowed beneath the garden's glass canopy. Elegant in that too-perfect way that made him uncomfortable.
A long, awkward silence stretched. It made Renji restless. So, he stood up and tucked his notebook inside his sling bag.
Man. So much for a peaceful place…
"Fine," he said, brushing off his pants, "I'll stop barging into your 'private' space now."
The woman still didn't turn. She stayed bent at the waist, fingers adjusting the soil around a blooming set of white lilies, like nothing had happened.
He lingered a second longer. Unsure why. Like he was waiting for a final jab. But none came.
Whatever…
And then, just as his foot hit the path—
"Well," she said with a less stabbing tone. More like a passing note in the wind, echoed inside the quiet greenhouse. "If you decide to waste your time again tomorrow… feel free to come here."
Renji stopped, he half-turned glancing over his shoulder, not sure if he heard her right.
"…What?"
She Just kept watering nonchalantly.
He squinted. "… Was that supposed to be… an invitation or another insult?"
She didn't look at him. "Interpret it however you need to." Not even a smile formed on her lips.
He paused for half a second. Then shook his head. "Not sure I like the company." He tries to match her tone.
"…Learn to take a joke, delivery boy."
Which part supposed to be the joke dammit!?
"Tch." Renji clicked his tongue and turned back toward the exit with quick steps.
Behind him, the woman finally looked up from the flowers. Not even forming any expressions, but her amber eyes lingered on the path he left behind. The faintest hum of something warm beneath all that sharp.
--------
By the time Renji reached his scooter in the parking lot, he was still fuming. He kicked the stand down with more force than necessary and drove off a little too fast.
Fine, fine, fine!!! I was the one at fault—but what the hell!?
"......…"
Yet, her voice lingered longer than he'd admit.
As he weaved through traffic, his mind scribbled a note, almost involuntarily.
Woman in the garden. Doesn't belong. Talks like a boss—probably is. Definitely not a gardener.
Under his chicken helmet, he muttered—
"…Should've asked her name."