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Summary
“Really?” Miyuki hums. “And who’s this so very experienced Sawamura Eijun we’re talking about? The one who came from some backwater town with little to no experience under his belt, or the one who wrote that very fine piece about the new jogging path? Very cute dogs, by the way.”
Eijun swallows thickly, brows furrowed.
Miyuki chuckles. “Sorry, sorry. Bad joke.”
He grinds his teeth.
“I’m better than what they have me doing,” he says, determined. “I just need my opening.”
It’s quiet in the car. Miyuki turns to him, giving him a quick, contemplative glance before returning back to face the window once more.
“Then you better get to it, Sawamura Eijun.”