Slacking Professionally at Tracen [146]

In truth, Komata Hajime didn’t know what was going on between Kitahara Sota and Hayakawa Tazuna.

And not only her—because their previous operation needed to be kept secret, the rest of Kitahara Sota’s team was in the same position as Komata.

They knew that Kitahara had been busy with something during the holiday, and that it seemed to involve the Chairwoman and Hayakawa-san.

But as for what exactly he was busy with, how things were going, or what their state was—on all of this, they knew nothing.

Even the fact that Kitahara sometimes gave Hayakawa Tazuna care—this was something Komata only discovered after Nice Nature moved into the dorm, and up until now she hadn’t told anyone.

Yet even so, when she heard Kitahara say that Hayakawa wanted him to pretend to be her boyfriend, Komata instinctively felt something was wrong.

Especially when she thought about how Kitahara had basically been working alongside Hayakawa for nearly a month now.

She hadn’t felt anything off before—after all, the “Green Devil’s” weight carried more than enough credibility.

But combining that with what Kitahara just said now, the wrongness pressing in Komata’s chest grew stronger and stronger.

Even though Hayakawa-san was famous for being reliable and safe—hailed even as Tracen’s final line of defense—what if…

With that suspicion simmering, Komata went with Kitahara to the izakaya, where they met Hayakawa Tazuna, who had arrived ahead of them.

And in the instant Komata saw her, her eyes narrowed.

What was Hayakawa Tazuna usually like?

Simple, efficient. Whether in daily life or outward appearance, everything followed a strict order. It was as if she was always in that green secretary’s uniform, her face fixed with a faint, politely distant smile.

And because she had a slightly babyish face, in order to maintain authority before students, she normally put on makeup that aged her up a little.

But now—

The moment they stepped inside, Hayakawa’s gaze went straight to them, and her smile was clearly not the same as usual.

And it wasn’t just her smile that had changed—her clothes were different, her makeup lighter.

Even the sheen of her hair suggested she had just washed before coming, and up close, there was the faint fragrance of shampoo…

With each step forward, the oddities revealed themselves more and more, and Komata’s eyes only grew deeper and darker.

At the same time, in Hayakawa’s gaze there was also the faintest shift.

From previous signs, she had already suspected Komata might harbor feelings for Kitahara.

But since they hadn’t interacted much, that suspicion had stayed just that—suspicion.

Now though, as she watched Komata silently edge closer to Kitahara, showing subtle but unmistakable signs of “guarding her food”…

A strange light flickered in Hayakawa’s eyes.

As for the Uma Musume in Kitahara’s team, Hayakawa honestly didn’t consider them much of a threat.

Their identities were fixed in place—and it was obvious Kitahara was highly resistant to having any improper relationship with his tantou.

Even if one of them acted on impulse and tried to force matters—that only played into Hayakawa’s hands.

Her title of “Green Devil” wasn’t for nothing—she had earned it by catching Uma Musume red-handed. If they crossed the line, it only gave her a chance to strike back.

And if they didn’t cross the line—then for someone as stiff-minded as Kitahara, their status itself was the fatal flaw. They simply weren’t qualified to compete on the same stage as her.

Which meant—excluding those little troublemakers—the one before her, Komata Hajime, was the biggest threat.

And yet, even though both women sensed the tension, Kitahara himself hadn’t noticed the atmosphere going strange in the slightest.

Not only had he not noticed—

Once inside the izakaya, seeing the décor, smelling the food, Kitahara immediately marveled at how nice the place was—and then started worrying about the prices.

Even though Komata had said she was treating, it didn’t feel right to let her pay, not when he was the one who invited Hayakawa. He wasn’t thick-skinned enough to dump that on her.

But just treating these two wasn’t the real issue.

His Uma Musume had already raced plenty, even won some big prizes. His wallet was filling up little by little. A meal for two trainers—easy enough.

The problem was, even so—he hadn’t properly treated his own girls to anything good yet.

Other teams, even the big ones with many members—after a victory, they’d at least find some way to celebrate.

Even without a win, the big teams held regular events. But his team…

He hadn’t thought of dragging them all into an izakaya like this, sure. But the problem was—the prices around Tracen were ridiculous. By comparison, this izakaya counted as “affordable.”

Yet staring at the still-“affordable” but steep menu, thinking about his crew of monsters and misfits, Kitahara’s heart only twisted tighter.

The three heavy-hitters, of course, went without saying.

But on top of them—Creek’s appetite alone was no small matter. Even the elegant Grass Wonder turned out to be a big eater; it was only that, next to the others in his team, she seemed normal…

And besides meals, there were the costs of medical supplies, equipment, paying off the old Uma Musume tailor, and every other daily expense…

It all added up.

So even with prize money coming in, with his wallet swelling—why did it feel like he had even less money now?

These thoughts swirled as the three of them sat down together.

Greetings, ordering, conversation.

At first, the atmosphere was still normal.

But as the talk deepened—especially when the topic turned to the matter of a “pretend boyfriend”—things grew subtler, sharper.

“Hayakawa-san, something like pretending to be your boyfriend—surely it doesn’t have to be Kitahara-kun, does it?”

Komata smiled faintly.

“He’s only been here one term. If he were suddenly acting as your boyfriend, doesn’t that feel a little inappropriate?”

“Besides, you know yourself—he’s already pretended to be my boyfriend once. I’m still using that excuse to fend off my parents.”

“If things get too loud on your side, that puts me in a very awkward spot.”

Hayakawa listened, and returned a smile of her own.

“Trainer Komata, you really do think things through. But I’ve already considered all that—you needn’t trouble yourself.”

“The reason I chose Trainer Kitahara is simply because he’s the most suitable.”

“His short tenure doesn’t matter. Precisely because he’s new—meeting after entering Tracen, discovering each other’s strengths, feeling attraction, then beginning to date—that’s perfectly natural, isn’t it?”

“And besides, there’s my health. I need to go to Trainer Kitahara’s dorm regularly for care. Under those circumstances, having the cover of a relationship makes things far easier, doesn’t it?”

“As for your situation, Trainer Komata, I understand. But the fact remains—I also need Kitahara. There’s no reason why it’s fine for you to ask his help, but not me, right?”

“And as I understand, your home is far from Tracen. If you want to keep things hidden, it shouldn’t be too hard for you, should it?”

She paused, then met Komata’s gaze head-on, speaking seriously.

“And besides—my reasons have to do with Tracen itself. That’s why I must keep up this pretense with Trainer Kitahara.”

“But in your case, Trainer Komata—I think it would be best to come clean to your family sooner rather than later.”

“The longer you drag it out, the worse it will be when it comes to light.”

“What do you think, Komata-san?”

“I don’t think there’s anything awkward about it.”

Komata’s gaze did not falter.

“My family situation doesn’t need your concern. For now, I like things just the way they are—whether or not to tell them is my decision alone.”

“But you, Hayakawa-san—your behavior is a deception toward the children. If the truth comes out, the consequences might be far worse than anything on my end.”

“Don’t you agree, Hayakawa-san?”

Their eyes locked. Across the table, the air grew thick with the scent of gunpowder.

A moment later, in perfect unison, both turned toward the one person who had stayed silent from the start.

They spoke together.

“Trainer Kitahara—what do you think?”

“Eh?”

Hearing their question, Kitahara was startled.

Not because he sensed anything wrong—only that just a moment ago, after tasting the food here, he’d suddenly realized this izakaya’s dishes were unexpectedly good. And the prices on the menu weren’t high at all.

So although he thought it might not be great to bring his little girls to an izakaya, the truth was—an izakaya wasn’t only alcohol.

Especially now, since this place was running a grand opening promotion, the discounts were significant, and apparently in a couple of days there’d be even more events.

So just earlier, he couldn’t help thinking: maybe he should bring the girls here once for a team gathering. Because of that, he hadn’t really paid attention to the two beside him, and so when the question suddenly came, he jumped.

But once his surprise passed—since he had caught some fragments of their talk and had a rough idea—he thought for a moment, then gave his reply.

“I don’t really mind either way. I’m not good with this sort of thing, and you both obviously know your own situations better than I do. So it’s fine if you decide.”

“As for me—if there’s anything you need my help with, just say the word. I’ll do my best.”

Hearing Kitahara’s words, the other two’s expressions both grew just a little… subtle.

They had already known him well enough to guess his answer probably wouldn’t be anything like what they were expecting.

But still—after all that clashing back and forth, to discover the man in question had been spacing out the whole time—it left their moods more than a little complicated.

Yet before that subtlety could spread further, Hayakawa Tazuna’s eyes flickered, and she suddenly moved.

Noticing Kitahara seemed distracted, she used her chopsticks to pick up a slice of carrot—and right in front of Komata Hajime—offered it to Kitahara’s lips.

And because of that month of fake-dating “feeding experiences,” the slightly-dazed Kitahara accepted the carrot without thinking.

Only as he chewed did he realize something was wrong. He lifted his head, looking at Hayakawa, face puzzled.

“Uh… Tazuna-san, this is…”

“I just think—since we’ll have to act like a couple, it’s better to prepare and build up ahead of time. Otherwise when the time comes, people might doubt us.”

Finishing, she turned her head toward Komata, her smile sharpening.

“Don’t you think so, Trainer Komata?”

Komata’s lips tugged upward in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Then, as if remembering something, she reached into the little bag she carried and pulled out a stack of documents, holding them toward Kitahara.

“By the way, Kitahara-kun, there’s something I wanted to go over with you. It’s about last month’s training…”

Kitahara blinked, not really sure how the topic had changed so suddenly.

But since Komata was talking business—and since he had thought about it before coming—he didn’t dwell on it, just lowered his head to look over the papers while listening to her explanation.

And as she spoke, his expression grew gradually serious, his attention narrowing in.

He didn’t even notice that Komata’s body was leaning slowly closer. Or that one of her hands had already come to rest lightly on his leg.

Then, while Kitahara was like that, Komata used a moment of looking up to flick a glance across at Hayakawa.

Hayakawa’s brows arched slightly. After a silent beat, she suddenly stood, then sat down on Kitahara’s other side.

“If we’re going to act like a couple, then it’s also necessary to understand each other’s team situation, right?”

She explained this with a smile.

Kitahara paused—something felt off, but at the same time her reasoning wasn’t wrong. So he didn’t fuss, and let her come closer.

Right after that—seeing Hayakawa shamelessly slide in—Komata’s sense of crisis flared sky-high. Seizing the chance while Kitahara was still focused, she pressed closer, practically sinking into his chest.

And on the other side—catching Komata’s move—Hayakawa’s eyes flashed. Then, under the excuse of checking the documents, she too leaned in, close enough that her warm breath brushed Kitahara’s skin.

Feeding. Pressing closer. Sticking to him…

The contest grew fiercer, their moves more blatant.

And just when sparks were about to fly between their gazes, when it seemed they were both seconds from gluing themselves fully to him—

A voice cut in.

“Um, you two.”

Sensing the press of warmth on both sides, Kitahara kept his eyes on the documents in front of him, his voice automatic.

“Could you maybe… scoot a little? I’m starting to feel a bit cramped.”

—

T/N: CAT FIGHT!

This is a fan translation of 人在特雷森，专职摆烂 by 多功能复读机 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!