Workplace Rules for Men and Women
“Are you looking at my breasts?”
Aoki lifted his eyes to meet Sakurada’s. “What are you talking about?”
She removed her hands from his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “Admit it. I saw you!”
Aoki knew what was going on. “Look …” he said, leaning forward in his office chair. “First, I wasn’t looking at your breasts. Second, there’s nothing to see.”
Sakurada let out a faux laugh. “You can talk. Remember that company trip? When you showed up with swimming trunks so tight that you might as well have been naked? Fortunately for you, there was nothing to see neither.”
“Aha! You were looking at me in that way too.”
“Too. So you admit that you were looking at my breasts?”
Aoki leaned back in his chair. “No, I … added that too because you think I was looking at them.”
“I don’t think that. I know.”
“Look, this isn’t going anywhere.”
Sakurada uncrossed her arms. “So what do you suggest we do?”
“Let’s forget about this. And make sure it never happens again.”
“You make sure it never happens again.”
Aoki nodded — though he was sure their suspect-victim role would reverse one of these days.
“Are you flirting with me?”
Sakurada stepped back from Aoki and glared into his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
He lowered his cup of green tea and pointed his finger at her. “You touched your lips while you were talking to me.”
“Because I burned myself with tea!”
“Why are you sticking out your tongue?”
“Because it got burned too!”
“Why are you squinching your eyes?”
“Because I’m in pain!”
He narrowed his eyes. “That makes sense. But it’s too much of a coincidence.”
“Listen,” Sakurada began, putting her tea on the table, “why would I flirt with you? You’re a salaryman who only earns 130,000 yen, who hasn’t dated a woman in six years.”
“Hey, how do you know that?”
She grinned. “We take human resources in this company very seriously. We check every nook and cranny of our employees.”
“You check every nook and cranny of me.”
She snorted. “Who do you think you are, the sun? Not everything revolves around you.”
“When someone falls for you, you become like the sun to them.”
“Listen, I haven’t fallen for you. And I wasn’t flirting with you.”
“Look, this isn’t going anywhere.” Aoki wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It’ll take us the whole day. And we’ll get an earful from Mr. Managi.”
“I think we should let him handle this.”
He raised his hands. “No, wait! If we do that, the whole office will find out about it. We should … fix this ourselves.”
Sakurada blinked at him. “How?”
He rubbed his stubble. “How about we … set some rules?”
“Rules?” Sakurada blurted.
After work, they discussed, debated, disagreed, and made many decisions. The result: a text file containing a set of rules that they called Workplace Rules For Men and Women.
Which they put into practice the next day.
Rule 1: when men and women talk, they must look at each other’s eyes — all the time — and not other body parts.
“Here are the files.” Sakurada placed the stack of papers she was carrying on Aoki’s desk.
“Thanks,” he said, staring fixedly at her eyes. They were long and narrow like that of a sleepy cat.
Sakurada frowned. “What are you doing?”
Aoki continued fumbling with the stack of papers as if he were shuffling a deck of cards. “I have to look you in the eye, remember?”
“Just focus on the stack of papers. Not on my body.”
“If I look down,” he said, sweat gathering in his eyebrows, “I’ll catch a glimpse of your breasts — or another part of your body. I won’t be able to help it.”
Sakurada crossed her arms. “So I should go away?”
“If you want me to finish work, yes.”
“Okay, whatever,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.
Aoki averted his eyes as she stepped — sauntered, strode, strolled? — away.
When the sound of her pumps faded, he let out a long sigh. The interpersonal railway they’d built wasn’t as reliable as he thought. It was shaky. Complicated.
But at least Aoki hadn’t looked at Sakurada’s breasts.
Rule 2: when men and women talk, they mustn’t display any flirtatious behavior including winking, licking their lips, sticking out their tongues, etc.
Hot tea was running down Sakurada’s lower lip. She shot a glance at the table. Damn, the tissue pack was empty.
Sakurada brought her thumb to her lower lip — but as soon as she caught Aoki’s eyes, she stopped.
“I … need to … wipe my lip.” She spoke, trying not to move her mouth too much. She sounded as if she had a speech impediment. “This isn’t flirting.”
“Oh yeah?” Aoki leaned on the wall. “How can I be sure of that?”
“Can’t you … see this?” The drop of tea had reached the middle of Sakurada’s lower lip.
“I see a flirty face.”
“Can’t you … go away?” The drop was about to drip down her lower lip.
Aoki gave a smug smile. “Why? It’s not against the rules for me to stay here.”
Damn, how should Sakurada remove the drop? She couldn’t use her tongue. Or her fingers. Wait …
In a swift motion, Sakurada wiped the drop with the back of her hand.
“There’s no rule saying that you can’t do that!” She let out a boisterous laugh.
Aoki waved offhandedly and walked away.
Rule 3: men and women mustn’t develop romantic attachments.
“Hey, do you want to grab lunch?” Sakurada asked, shouldering her handbag.
Aoki pressed the elevator Up button. “Remember the third rule?”
Sakurada blinked at him. “What does that have to do with eating?”
“Eating together can make us develop feelings.”
“That’s stupid. It’s not that different from drinking tea together.”
“Being in a new environment can make us develop new feelings.”
“Fine! I’ll call takeout. What do you want to eat?”
“We’ll still be eating together that way.”
“Then eat at your damn desk, and I eat at mine.”
“That works.”
“Okay, whatever. Get your food yourself.” Sakurada stepped into the elevator, her pumps clicking louder than usual.
“Hey, our department has karaoke night,” Sakurada said, sliding into her parka. “Do you want to join?”
Aoki punched the elevator’s Down button. “Singing together can make us develop feelings. Singing, after all, is about letting out your feelings.”
“But it won’t be intimate this time. There will be other people present.”
“That’s even worse. Suppose I see you singing with a male colleague or you see me singing with a female colleague. We may develop jealousy — which is a gateway to love.”
“Okay, you can go to hell.” Sakurada strode into the elevator, her handbag swaying more than it should.
As Aoki stepped out of the elevator, acid stung his stomach. Was it because he hadn’t eaten lunch? Had eaten just a rice cracker with green tea? No, he’d never had digestive problems; he could eat a hot dog that had fallen on a crowded street and not have a stomach ache.
The problem was another organ. Aoki’s heart.
He rushed out of the company’s sliding glass doors.
Then he stopped.
In front of him were only sidewalks, passers-by, and a skyscraper.
His knees buckled. He’d been wrong. He’d been a fool. He’d been too late. Now he’d never be able to —
“What are you doing there, idiot?”
He turned to the side. Sakurada was leaning against the wall, using a paper cup of tea as a hand warmer.
“Why are you here?” Aoki asked.
Sakurada averted her eyes. “I remembered that I don’t like singing.” She refocused on Aoki. “What about you?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I remembered — no, I realized — that I broke a rule.”
Sakurada’s lips curled on one side. “I think I did too.”
His mouth mirroring hers, Aoki stepped toward her in a firm straight line.
