Doubts And Demons

Aisuke Yoshishi, a 42-year-old man, had spent the last decade working at MIRAI SHOJI, one of Japan's top-rated sales companies. He joined alongside his colleague Yuto, both starting as sales representatives, yet despite their years of dedication, neither had seen a single promotion. In contrast, Akujo, who had joined the company three years after them, had swiftly risen to the position of sales manager. Her rapid ascent was credited to her exceptional work ethic, though office whispers suggested there was more to her success—rumors of unsavory dealings with the boss.

Yuto and Yoshishi had grown close over the years, bound by their shared frustrations. They often found solace in each other's company, venting about the lack of recognition and career growth. Their friendship was built on these conversations, a bond forged in the fire of their mutual discontent.

"I noticed you two seemed to be having quite a... troubled conversation earlier," Yoshishi remarked, stepping closer to Yuto and Sumire. "I thought, perhaps, I might offer some assistance, if there's anything I can do." He said to both of them. But then Yoshishi shifted his focus to Sumire, bowing gracefully as if he were a prince out of a fairytale. The movement, though out of place in the modern office, carried a strange charm.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Netao-san," said, his tone soft yet deliberate, like a noble addressing royalty. " I hope you are well! May I know what caused you trouble?"

Sumire knew Yoshishi all too well. Over the years, Yuto had often brought his friend along to their dinners, whether at their home or at a restaurant. It had become a quiet routine, one she had grown accustomed to. Yuto's insistence on including Yoshishi stemmed from a simple truth—Yoshishi lived alone.

He had no family to speak of—no parents, no relatives, no wife or children. And no girlfriend either. He was the type of man who seemed wholly uninterested in romantic pursuits. All Yoshishi ever cared about was earning money and maintaining a peaceful life. Yuto always guaranteed to ensure that his friend didn't fall into loneliness, and so their romantic dates, more often than not, transformed into casual outings with their third wheel.

Yet, despite this, Sumire never minded Yoshishi's presence. He had a strange but endearing way of adjusting himself around her, effortlessly switching between the roles of Yuto's easygoing best friend and a refined, almost princely figure whenever he addressed her. His politeness, often exaggerated like a noble duke in an old tale, made him surprisingly good company.

"It's nothing much! Just the usual husband-and-wife conflicts," Sumire said with a lighthearted smile, trying to brush off the tension.

Yoshishi straightened from his bow, shifting from his princely demeanor back to his usual self, though there was a sudden edge to his expression. His eyes narrowed, and his voice, now harsher, cut through the air. "Netao-san! Is Yuto bothering you? Is he forcing you into something? Tell me, and I'll make sure to take care of him—wipe him out if I have to."

His over-the-top seriousness caught both Sumire and Yuto off guard, and they burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Yuto clapped his friend on the back, still laughing. "Wipe me out, huh? By any chance Is my wife some sort of princess and are you her knight? , Yoshishi!".

"Why are you laughing?" Yoshishi asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and amusement. He tried to keep his expression light, but there was a flicker of annoyance as he half-laughed along with them.

As the couple's laughter echoed around him, Yoshishi's smile faltered slightly. Though he chuckled outwardly, inside his mind swirled with uneasy thoughts that felt as real and cold as a snowflake melting on his skin.

They must think I'm joking. That's it—this is why they're laughing like mad. But I wasn't joking. It's true. Anyone who hurts Netao-san is hurting me, and I'd teach them a lesson—yes, even her husband. But... why? Do I love her? No, no, she's married! She is the mother of two sons! There's no chance for me—none at all. What am I even thinking? This is wrong. Completely wrong!

He cursed himself silently, trying to push away the flood of emotions, desperately searching for a more acceptable explanation. Admiration! Yes, that's it! I admire her. That's why I want to protect her—not because of anything more. You scumbag... stop thinking like this!

But what Yoshishi heard next sent his heart racing like a horse at full gallop. Sumire's soft, melodic voice reached his ears, cutting through his swirling thoughts.

"Aisuke-san, you really are an interesting person,"

His mind spiraled again, this time faster. Interesting? Does she mean... she's interested in me? Really? Could it be?

The chaotic flood of emotions swirled even more intensely, but before he could untangle the meaning behind her words, the moment was interrupted by a sudden voice booming through the speakers, echoing from the microphones planted around the hotel.

"Well! Everyone! First of all, I thank you all for coming here..."

"The speech has started! We're late, even though we arrived early!" Yuto exclaimed, suddenly snapping back to reality. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Sumire's hand and tugged her along, sprinting toward the hotel entrance.

As Sumire ran ahead with Yuto, she glanced back over her shoulder, her face bright with laughter. "Hurry up!" She said looking at Yoshishi.

Yoshishi's pace slowed, not because of fatigue but because of the storm swirling in his chest. He whispered to himself, barely audible, "I think I really love you, Sumire-san. I can't lie to myself anymore. One day... one day, I'll take you back from Yuto."

He was confident in his words.

Yuto and sumire loved each other for now but love slowly decays when microbes called doubts begin to feed on it, gnawing at the edges of trust and affection. When these doubts arise, the demons also appear—eager to exploit any sign of weakness. They disguise themselves as humans, charming and familiar, all while plotting to disrupt lives and fulfill their own selfish desires.

Demons who are nothing but scumbags.