Corporate
Wheeled by her enthusiasm, Elyna ignored the ticking clock.
”… the rainy season is starting now. It’s quite melancholic actually,” she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Despite the air conditioning running full blast, her blouse was damp.
“There’s this concept about the impermanence of things that Katayū-sensei explained in his last class.
I had quite a lot of trouble translating that into English. ”
Her father’s weathered face crinkled slightly on the laptop screen. His blue eyes, the ones she inherited, studied her with amusement. “And how impermanent is your health right now?" he asked pointedly. “Those circles weren’t there before.”
Elyna ducked, scratching her nape where fine hairs were plastered by the heat.
She’d been warned, repeatedly, that the pace would be brutal.
Reality was worse than she’d imagined; was it wrong to enjoy that cohesion?
The late hours where everyone drank horrible coffee with a grimace because fatigue impaired their ability to think straight?
“The teachers pull out a lot of hours, and some of that stuff isn’t paid. But it’s very fulfilling.”
David Trewith frowned, and she rushed to reassure him. “Isn’t that the best way to find one’s path?”
His expression tightened on the screen, but a smile crept over his lips fondly. “You’re starting to sound quite philosophical, my dear. A young Confucius.”
Elyna grinned. She loved that accent, the one that reminded her of her grandma. Cornwall felt both close and drifting away at the same time; the feeling was confusing.
“Ellie’s going all Zen on us,” Aksel quipped, his blond hair damp from the shower. “What’s next, meditation and green tea?”
I still have to try that Mao Feng brew Sano talked about.
“Well, I do Qi Gong with my class,” Elyna replied, bowing her head to hide her blushing cheeks. “It does wonders for my grounding.”
Aksel stuttered. “Your what?”
“My grounding?” she supplied. Her brother’s expression remained blank. “Anchoring to the earth? My overactive brain shutting down for five minutes?”
She needed to avoid thinking of the magnetic man who taught her those techniques, but he intruded on every thought.
“Elyna,” her father said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Uh Oh.
“You know, dear, Japan really seems to suit you. Has someone caught your fancy, perhaps?”
Her eyes turned to Aksel; he was the only one aware of her crush. Her closest confidant went completely still as he tried—and failed—to look innocent.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad,” Elyna said, channelling her mother’s confidence. For once, her saving grace came in the form of an angry storm as her door rattled from three formidable knocks. “Elynaaa!” her mother called sharply. “We’re going to be late! And they won’t put up with it in this country!”
“Shimatta, I have to go,” she sighed dramatically. “Mum is dragging me to another of her corporate network stuff. Apparently, her department sold something big to someone with a lot of money. Again.”
“Will a Mr. Bingley suffice, or do you have to snatch a Mr. Darcy?” her brother snickered. A glitch in the network caused his grin to freeze momentarily.
A wave of nostalgia hit her full force. It was the first year in many she wouldn’t watch the Pride and Prejudice BBC series, huddled on the old couch in their little cottage with both men bantering beside her.
“Oh dear,” her father chuckled. The sound settled into her bones like a magical embrace. “You’re supposed to have fun, Elyna. Talk and eat, and see what comes to you.”
Elyna rolled her eyes. Despite her fondness for her father’s optimistic views, he wasn’t the one about to be paraded around. For all her mother’s feminism, she could sometimes be strangely old-fashioned.
“Dad, not you too! I’m not into making connections to boast on my non-existent LinkedIn.”
“It’s not about who you connect to,” he retorted, his features turning serious. “It’s about who you’re connecting with, even for an evening, and returning richer from it.”
Elyna blinked, finding her heart settling at his unexpected flare of wisdom. Her father was uncanny that way; playful one moment, imparting ancient teachings the next. Seems you can’t take the history lecturer out of the man.
“Who’s going all Confucius now?” she smirked.
“Elyyyyyna!”
The young woman winced, wondering if their neighbours hated them now. “Love you both,” she added, sending kisses over the continent with one last smile. She closed the laptop just as her door burst open.
“You’re not ready? What were you doing?” Katrine demanded, blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She stood framed in the doorway like a knight wearing armour. Hers wasn’t made of metal plates, but a form-fitting black dress. Joy be damned, apparently.
“Just talking to Dad and Aksel.”
Her mother’s arctic presence softened for a second. Elyna grabbed a long navy skirt from her chair. The fluid bamboo fabric would feel fantastic in the damp air. A cream-coloured blouse joined the skirt as she started shimmying out of her work clothes; it was too late for a shower.
“Well,” Katrine sighed. “There’s no time, so let’s go.” Her mother’s heels clicked on the pristine wooden floor and Elyna cringed, following suit. Katrine refused to listen to Japanese wisdom and leave her damn shoes in the genkan; it was no wonder the neighbours barely greeted her in the corridor.
But Elyna still bowed and smiled, passing the receptionist of their high-end building.
The taxi was already waiting, the sleek black car as pristine as her mother.
As soon as she slithered in her seat, Elyna sighed in relief; the air conditioning was a blessing.
She gathered her golden hair away from her nape, smoothing out the frizz.
“There.”
In her mother’s palm rested two crocodile clips made of sparkling rosy metal. Katrine’s gaze lingered as Elyna twisted her wavy tresses in a rolled-up bun, securing it with a butterfly pin she always kept in her bag.
“You’re lucky you don’t need makeup to look good. It’s nice to be young.”
There was nothing diplomatic to say. Had her mother developed those dark circles under her eyes after giving birth to them both, or was it the divorce? The strain of her workload in an environment where objectives mattered more than mental health?
Their taxi passed through quiet neighbourhoods before they reached streets streaked with neon pink and electric blue. In Norway, the sun would still be shining at this hour but here, the night was already settling; the price of living at a lower latitude.
“I’m glad you get along with your brother.” Her mother’s soft voice almost didn’t reach her. The words felt vulnerable, so very unlike the woman who commanded her own team. “I never had that kind of relationship with mine.”
Jeez, I wonder why.
For once, the observation felt less bitter than usual. Was it the taxi’s relative intimacy, or Katrine’s impromptu confession that mellowed Elyna’s mood?
She held no illusions; the divorce had shattered them all, even though the scars were invisible.
Objectively, her mother had plenty of qualities: that drive that could move mountains, her dedication and a brilliant mind that could solve problems that many others couldn’t grasp.
The only issue was her abysmal handling of emotions.
Feelings were treated like unwanted visitors, buried so deep that they fossilised, only to emerge a million years later in a form so twisted they blew up without warning.
“The… the rainy season makes the air heavy, doesn’t it?” Katrine continued, as if extending an olive branch. Channelling her Qi Gong instructor, Elyna slowed her breathing, finding a semblance of peace. The attempt was awkward, but not unwelcome. “Yes. It does.”
When did we become this, mum?
Katrine nodded, then turned back to her own window, her reflection painted in shadows. They rode the rest of the way in silence; Elyna soaking in the landscape while her mother’s mind probably strategised the incoming event.
At twenty-one, she still harboured the silly hope to, one day, get along with that frosty person she loved with all her heart.
“Hey,” she quipped, hoping to break the tension. “At least they drive on the right side of the road.”
After Mexico and Italy, finding a country that matched Britain’s often castigated traffic laws was a relief. Katrine blinked, processing the wordplay before a slow smirk spread across her features.
“I’m Norwegian. There can only be one right side of the road…”
Elyna laughed, wondering if she was the only one seeing a world of incomprehension in those simple words.
Her mother's idea of a pleasant evening: a corporate reception humming with ambitious people. At ease in her element, Katrine’s voice carried over the ambient chatter. “Oh yes, my Elyna is very adaptable. She had no problem at all fitting into the mould. She’s even learning kendō!”
Hypocrite. You said kendō was for guys who had something to compensate for.
Her mother weaved in the small crowd with confidence, champagne in hand. Her sharp green eyes, those that had once enchanted a Cornish-born lecturer, calculated each interaction like a chess move. She and her daughter shared the same physique, if not the same bearing.
Around them, engineers of half a dozen nationalities mingled, forming temporary networks before being scattered across continents.
The pharmaceutical company coddled its international employees—housing, schooling, health insurance, even Christmas presents were paid for to keep them happy.
But for the families dragged along like luggage, it demanded only one thing: adaptability.
Her mother praised that quality; she never understood it had cost her children the roots they desperately needed. And from the conversation she was currently having with another expat, a distant colleague, neither did the other woman.
“Well, you’re fortunate. My son has such trouble with the system here. He was told he was being too outspoken. Those people said he was brash.” The last word rang like an insult, and she added in a low voice, “Those Japanese are so stuck up.”
Elyna’s fingers tightened around the matcha soda she’d chosen. They’re not stuck up. They’re respectful. Her mind summoned an image of stoic discipline-man in his stiff uniform. His rigid views were almost endearing.
OK, perhaps a little set in their ways…
She thought of Sano’s welcoming attitude that first morning, of the Vice Principal’s sudden fits of poetry in the middle of advanced history class, of Shūji’s pranks that made them all crazy, herself included. There was no encapsulating a whole culture in a sentence.
She slipped away from the conversation, seeking refuge behind the refreshment table. The mix of western and typical dishes was so extensive that it gave her whiplash.
Those corporate soirées were multiplying lately. Her mother’s strategy was becoming clearer with each passing week: match Elyna with some promising young engineer who’d follow the same international career path, whisking her away to the next assignment.
Perhaps I should start pole dancing. Now THAT would be fun.
What made her heart ache the most was that, when stripped of all armour, her mother could love deeply. But she fit the mould brilliantly; here, Katrine Eriksen was a queen.
Darn, I almost miss Shūji’s pranks. I wonder how he’d crash that party.
It was ironic, really, to hear those engineers dub Japanese society stifling when they all existed in a cage of promotions, objectives and positions. Gaze fixed upon the scene before her, Elyna tried to find the right words.
Pristine suits gather
Buzzing without direction—
Empty purposes
Not bad, although not perfect in syllable count. Elyna scribbled the haiku on a napkin.
“Ah, young lady.” An older Japanese gentleman, perhaps fifty, looked at her with kindness. “I couldn’t help but notice your writing. Poetry, perhaps?”
“I was attempting a Haiku,” Elyna admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m still learning.”
His face lit up with delight. “Ah, wonderful! May I?” When she showed him the napkin, a crease formed between his eyebrows. “Very good imagery. The buzzing suggests a swarm of bees, yes? It makes the contrast even stronger, because every single member of the hive has a purpose. If I may suggest…”
Impressed by his interpretation, Elyna could only nod enthusiastically. “Sure,” she beamed.
The man gave her an indulgent smile. “Perhaps the word hollow rather than empty.”
“Oh! brilliant!”
Katayū-sensei will be pleased… maybe. I hope.
What followed was a wonderful, fulfilling conversation. The man was slightly tipsy; he corrected her pronunciation a few times, then dissolved into a heartfelt apology for pointing out her mistakes. Elyna laughed.
To speak with someone who kept a picture of his grandchildren in his wallet was a delight. He even presented her to a forty-something Chinese woman who challenged Katayū’s interpretation of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Ah! I’ll be sure to relay that info.
By evening’s end, Elyna’s views on cold-hearted engineers had shifted somewhat. But there was no pushing her into an ambitious man’s arms.
Little did Katrine know that her daughter had already formed quite the crush on someone she absolutely shouldn’t—someone whose quiet strength had captured her heart in ways no corporate networking event ever could. Someone forbidden.
Elyna: Met a great guy at a corporate event
Aksel: Really?
Elyna: Yeah. Loves poetry and haiku ??
Aksel: Japanese? Mum is not going to be happy
Elyna: showed me some pictures of his grandchildren too
Aksel: ??