The switchable glass of Daichi's office had just turned opaque, shutting out the rest of the Import and Warehouse Section. Outside, muted chatter and the distant clatter of photocopy machine echoed faintly through the walls. Inside, a thick air of restraint hung in the minimalist room—neat desks, filing trays aligned with obsessive care, and a potted snake plant in the corner that seemed to thrive under the same strict discipline as its owner.
Daichi stood by the desk, arms crossed, his brows faintly drawn together behind his round glasses.
"I'm telling you this for the third time," he began, voice low and clipped, "your department's document submission is cutting it way too close. Customs isn't a joke. Especially not with shipments from China. The window is too damn critical."
Across from him, Hasegawa was sprawled on the office sofa like it was his living room, one leg crossed lazily over the other. His tie was a little loosened, the corner of his mouth curled with that usual boyish grin.
"I know," he said without missing a beat. "I told them already, but—" he made a small flicking gesture, "most of them are still new. They move slower than turtles in molasses."
Daichi clicked his tongue softly. "Then train them faster. My team's the one getting grilled every time something gets held up."
Hasegawa only hummed, fishing out a stick of gum from his pocket. "You want one?"
Daichi ignored it.
"And," he continued, adjusting his weight to the other armrest, "why are you even using LC term for some China shipments? You do know that delays the original documents. My team can't process if they don't have them in time."
"Mm, yeah. I'm aware," Hasegawa said, popping the gum into his mouth and chewing without concern. "Some of it's out of our hands. You know how it is—half of the orders go through traders. Like, I've got one case: goods from Taiwan, but documents gotta travel to a trader in Singapore first because their deal with the shipper is LC-based."
Daichi's frown deepened, arms tightening across his chest. "That's a waste of time."
"Well... I can't say anything. It's the payment term between the trader and the shipper, not us," Hasegawa explained, waving his hand as if it were just another bureaucratic maze. "We pay the trader. Trader pays the shipper. But since they use LC, the docs are tied up until their transaction clears."
"Hah... I know that."
"Of course."
A short silence stretched between them.
But then, Daichi spoke, voice low but edged. "But I'm not interested in excuses. What's your solution?"
Hasegawa exhaled a faint chuckle, as if he'd expected the question. "Well, first off, most of these suppliers were from Matsuda-san's era."
"Matsuda…?" Daichi frowned. The name didn't ring a bell.
"Oh, he was the previous section chief. Passed away from fukujoshi," Hasegawa said with a dry scoff.
"Fukujoshi…?" Daichi's brows knit in disbelief.
"It was bizarre, I know. But anyway, these suppliers are what I'd call old dogs with stubborn ways. But I've already asked my team to review new ones and submit them to Vendor Management. We'll keep whoever gets a good evaluation and phase out the rest."
An eyebrow raised as Daichi asked, "The terms?"
"I'm working on it," Hasegawa said, shrugging. "Convincing them to switch to T/T or at least DP. Takes time, but we'll get there."
"And your team?" Daichi pressed, expression unreadable now but his gaze sharp. "You just said they're all new. You planning to keep that cycle going?"
"Nah," Hasegawa replied, more serious for once. "High turnover was mostly 'cause of Matsuda-san. People got chewed up and spat out. But I'm not him. I want them to stay. I'm doing what I can to make the place… less miserable."
Daichi gave a quiet sigh and turned back to his desk, resting his fingers briefly on a sealed document folder. He didn't like the way Hasegawa breezed through serious matters like they were just minor inconveniences, but something about the guy's usual easy confidence kept him from snapping back.
"Just… keep me posted," Daichi said at last. "No last-minute surprises."
Hasegawa grinned, rising from the sofa and brushing off imaginary dust from his slacks. "You got it, Morikita-san. Oh, and—" he paused, pointing lazily as he walked toward the door, "you ever consider smiling when you talk to me? Might help your blood pressure."
Daichi rolled his eyes and turned away. "Get out."
"Heh, already on my way," Hasegawa called back, slipping out with a casual salute and the soft click of the door closing behind him.
Left alone, Daichi stood quietly for a moment. Then, almost imperceptibly, he exhaled through his nose and muttered to himself—
"Idiot."