{Exploring Together 2}

I’ve learned the basics of customer service at the convenience store, and I don’t dislike talking to people. That’s why I applied for the internship, thinking that working in a customer-facing role might suit me. Watching the senior employees work, I even felt a bit of confidence, thinking, “I might be able to do this.”

But it’s not like I have a strong determination, nor do I feel absolutely sure that I want to pursue sales. Since I have the opportunity, I want to explore other industries and make a decision after that.

I still have time to figure things out.

There’s no point in rushing and stressing over it right now.

“I think you’d be good at sales, Atsushi,” Miyu said suddenly, making me glance at her.

Dressed casually for her commute, Miyu was wearing a mint-green short-sleeved cardigan and a trapezoid skirt. When the train shook, her bare arm brushed against mine as she held the strap, making my heart skip a beat. I hoped she wouldn’t bump into anyone else.

“Sales is essentially a job where you praise your company’s products, right?” she continued in a calm, mature tone, typical of someone who has been in the workforce for a while.

“You go around telling customers, ‘These are the good points, I recommend this.’ Atsushi, you’re good at complimenting people, so I think you’d be great at promoting things like that.”

“Me, good at complimenting?” I asked, surprised by her assessment.

“Sorry to say this, but I’ve never thought that about myself…”

“But you are! You always praise me, even for the smallest things,” Miyu insisted.

Even though she said that, I really didn’t feel like I was good at giving compliments.

In fact, I think I’m more of a blunt, sharp-tongued person. It was at its worst during high school, and I can’t say I’ve fully outgrown it even now.

If anyone’s good at giving compliments, it’s her.

Miyu has always praised me for everything, from answering questions in class to lending her my notes. She even complimented how fast I could type on my phone, which left me more bewildered than pleased. Yet, she didn’t see the time I made a successful basketball shot—but I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore.

“That sounds more like you. You’ve always been the one to compliment me, so I think you’d be better suited for sales,” I said with a laugh.

But she didn’t laugh back, instead speaking seriously.

“No, I really mean it. Atsushi, whenever I put on makeup or change my outfit, you always notice. And even if I say something that others might laugh at, you never do. You praise me with things like, ‘That’s a unique idea.’ That always makes me feel happy and proud. I think that’s one of your talents.”

Talent, huh?

Being praised by Miyu, the expert at giving compliments, still left me flustered, even now at twenty. I only praise her when I genuinely think something is good. I don’t offer empty flattery or say things just to get on someone’s good side. That’s why I don’t feel like I compliment her that much.

Sure, I think I’ve become less cynical since my high school days, but still…

As I was thinking that, a realization hit me.

Maybe I’ve picked up Miyu’s habit of giving compliments without even realizing it.

She’s always complimented me, and it made me feel good. So, maybe I subconsciously started doing the same. That would explain why even someone as skilled at giving compliments as Miyu acknowledges me.

They say couples start to resemble each other after living together for a while. Maybe that’s starting to happen to us, too.

“If you, of all people, think that, then it gives me confidence,” I said, reconsidering.

Miyu smiled brightly in response.

“Yeah, you should be confident.”

“Thanks. I don’t know yet if I’ll pursue sales, but I’ll keep exploring. With a positive mindset.”

It wouldn’t hurt to learn from her how to give compliments. With such an excellent role model right next to me, it’d be a waste not to absorb that skill. If being with her helps with my job hunting, there couldn’t be a better two-for-one deal.

I wonder if someday people will call us a ‘well-matched couple.’

As I indulged in that premature thought, Miyu suddenly said, “Atsushi, you really look good in a suit.”

“Huh?”

It was so sudden.

I instinctively turned to her, and she was looking down but glancing at me sideways, her face slightly blushing.

“Since we met at the station, I’ve been thinking you look really cool.”

Once again, I realized that Miyu is the real expert at giving compliments.

With just a few words, she left me flustered, feeling restless even in the middle of the train.

It’s been this way since high school. She still makes me uneasy, and I can’t seem to match her.