restaurant girl | t. muichiro

chapter 31: the ugly truth?

「

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝

」

"Nobody's gonna believe ya, y'know why?"

"Just shut the fuck up, for once in your damn life!"

"Your little bitch of a twin is probably at risk of--"

"Expulsion from the company." Lady Hitogoroshi, or more accurately, Ms. Kondou flicked her tongue against her index finger, using it to tab through paper work and hand a contract to the dumbstruck younger male.

Muichiro stared at the contract in front of him, his hand clutching the arms of the chair in desperation.

Ms. Kondou's office was eerily quiet, a large window behind her desk and chair that gave her a magnificent view of Kyoto below her, the white lights reminding him of the hospital he regularly attended. A small humidifier on one of her shelves whirred and blew thick, white, floral scented air throughout her office. Countless pale yellow files were stacked onto each of her white shelves, accompanying a few binders and thick books with rounded spines that had gold lettering carved into them.

"You can't be serious." He spoke, pointing a slender finger at the contract. "You're punishing me for something I didn't even do?"

"I said at risk, didn't I?" She corrected. "Do you know why I am showing you this contract, Tokito?"

"No?"

"When you first started out in this company, you worked under Mr. Imamura." The jade-eyed woman pushed her wheeled chair towards her drawer, carefully grabbing a file and moving back to the center of her desk. "A humble, underground model who picked up smaller gigs. But, tell me, Tokito..."

"Why is it," She continued, "that your popularity skyrocketed about a year after your contract was created?"

"Shut up."

"You and I both know exactly why."

"Just shut up."

A hard thud and the rattling against plastic had Muichiro reeling back in horror, nearly flinging himself out of his chair. "Let me make this very clear." She spoke, leaving the orange container in front of him. "I won't fire you and will pretend like none of this ever happened, on the terms that you will drop out of therapy and continue to lose weight."

"You're fucking delusional." Despite his words, he angrily snatched the bottle. "This isn't even ipecac, this is straight up adderall. You're trying to put me on a fucking amphetamine?"

"With the dosage I'm putting you on, it's gonna supress your appetite and hopefully won't be too harsh." She replied. "You must understand: it's nothing personal. I do everything in the best interest of this company, not because I hate you or anything. Does that make sense?"

"What doesn't make sense is why you can't grasp how harsh withdrawal is." His hand held the bottle tightly, involuntary tremors rocking through his fingers as he clenched his jaw. "Do you understand the risks you're putting me in? These are so easy to get addicted to, it's like you're just handing me cocaine and saying go crazy."