Hiroshi

When Hiroshi finally stepped off the train at his station, he allowed the crowd to carry him toward the exit. As he moved along with the stream of commuters, he was already going over his workday in his mind, considering which task he should start with to make sure everything would be finished by the end of the day.

The answer was already obvious.

He had prepared his entire week on Friday so that he could get straight to work on Monday morning without any delays. Even so, he went through the schedule one more time in his head, simply to be sure.

As he rode up the escalator, a sudden cool breeze drifted out of the subway tunnel and brushed against the back of his neck.

Hiroshi frowned, wondering where it had come from.

No train had arrived, and nothing else seemed to have changed.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he instinctively raised a hand to his neck and turned around.

Behind him were only the usual commuters. Tired office workers stared at their smartphones or gazed blankly ahead, and no one seemed to have noticed anything.

Strange.

For just a moment, he had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him.

He let his eyes sweep across the escalator once more but found nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he had simply slept in an awkward position. With a small shrug, he dismissed the thought, assuming it was probably just a stiff neck.

When he stepped out onto the street, he was greeted by the crisp morning air. Sunlight reflected off the towering glass buildings as the flow of office workers dispersed with quiet purpose in every direction.

Hiroshi headed toward the office at a brisk pace.

Right on schedule, the elevator doors opened on his floor at exactly 8:20.

Perfect.

He stepped out and entered the office, a place he genuinely liked.

Everything felt orderly and thoughtfully arranged. The light wooden floors, subtle plants, and simple furniture gave the office a calm atmosphere. Although the desks were placed close together, the partially divided workspaces provided everyone with enough privacy, creating exactly the kind of environment Hiroshi preferred.

He was a tax accountant, and he loved his job.

People were often surprised when he told them what he did.

"A tax accountant? That sounds boring."

"You spend all day looking at numbers?"

He had heard comments like that countless times, but they no longer bothered him.

At eighteen, he had deliberately chosen to study tax law and accounting, fully aware of what he was getting into. He loved perfectly organized Excel spreadsheets and appreciated predictable results, and there was an almost childlike satisfaction in tracking down an incorrect number and watching everything balance perfectly again.

There was something deeply comforting about order.

As he set his briefcase down beside his desk, the two coworkers who shared the workspace with him greeted him.

"Good morning, Yamada-san," Nakamura-san said cheerfully. "Off to a good start today?"

Hiroshi wasn't particularly fond of small talk, but he knew conversations like these were simply part of being polite.

So he smiled.

"You know me. Same as always."

He gave her a small nod before adding, "And how about you, Nakamura-san?"

That was all he had to say.

Nakamura-san immediately launched into an enthusiastic story about her weekend, talking about her two children, her husband, the unpredictable weather, and how the cherry blossoms were surely going to be especially beautiful this year.

Takahashi-san, who sat across from them, listened with an amused smile and occasionally added a short comment of his own.

Hiroshi nodded at the appropriate moments, replying every now and then with a polite, "I can imagine," or, "Yes, I think you're right."

After a few minutes, the morning conversation had been successfully completed.

He smiled politely.

"Well then, I'd better get back to my numbers."

Nakamura-san smiled knowingly.

"Of course, Yamada-san."

Everyone in the office knew exactly what that sentence meant.

Please don't disturb me.

The morning passed quickly.

Hiroshi worked through files, entered receipts, and made sure every single number remained fully traceable, which was one of the aspects of his profession he enjoyed the most. At the end of every workday, he always had the feeling that something had been completed. Sales had been recorded, tax returns finalized, and every invoice had found its proper place.

That sense of order filled him with a deep satisfaction.

At lunchtime, he did what he always did and stopped by the nearest convenience store to pick up a bento. Most days, he chose the healthiest option available, making sure it included a good source of protein, some vegetables, and freshly cooked rice.

Today, Takahashi-san joined him. His wife hadn't had time to prepare him a bento that morning, so he had also settled for something from the convenience store.

As she did almost every day, Nakamura-san had taken her lovingly homemade bento to the break room, where the other women from the office were already gathering.

Hiroshi knew exactly what was happening there,  coffee chit chat filled with the latest stories about family, neighbors, television, and the ever-changing spring weather.

He had joined them a few times when he first started working there, but before long, he realized that those lunch breaks left him feeling more drained than refreshed.

That was why, whenever the weather was nice, he preferred eating outside.

Beside the office building was a small patch of greenery with a few benches, quiet enough to clear his mind for half an hour.

Today, Takahashi-san had chosen Japanese curry, while Hiroshi looked down contentedly at his own bento, which consisted of juicy grilled chicken, crisp vegetables, a perfectly cooked egg, and steaming rice—exactly what he wanted.

The two of them ate in comfortable silence for a while.

Every now and then, they talked about the news, work, and the results of the weekend's baseball games, which were exactly the kinds of conversations Hiroshi enjoyed: simple, pleasant, and without the feeling that he constantly had to keep talking.

They both understood that comfortable silence could be a conversation in itself.

Once they had finished every last grain of rice in their bentos, they stood up.

"I'm just going to grab a drink from the vending machine," Hiroshi said.

"Sounds good," Takahashi-san replied. "See you in a bit."

They went their separate ways, and Hiroshi headed toward the vending machine a few meters away, already taking a few hundred-yen coins from his wallet as he walked.

Black coffee, as always.

He inserted the coins, pressed the button for his favorite brand, and waited until, with a dull thud, the can dropped into the tray. Hiroshi bent down to pick it up and straightened again, but at that very moment, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

That feeling returned, subtle yet unmistakable, as though someone was watching him.

He froze for a brief second before slowly letting his gaze wander across the area. Office workers passed in front of the building, some talking on the phone, others chatting with coworkers, while a few hurried back inside, but no one paid him any attention.

Hiroshi shook his head slightly, trying to brush it off.

What was wrong with him today? Had he eaten something strange yesterday? Where was this unease coming from?

His day had been exactly the same as always, and that was precisely why it unsettled him so much.

He looked around one last time, but there was nothing.

Still, he found himself walking back to the office a little faster than usual, deciding he would drink his coffee at his desk today and skip his usual walk after lunch.

Author's Note

Looks like someone has their eye on Hiroshi... 👀

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