Novel Full Chapter 52: [2.25] My Employer’s Orders Include Self-Care
Chapter 52: [2.25] My Employer’s Orders Include Self-Care
I picked it up without thinking.
The art on the cover was gorgeous. Simple lines, muted colors, something almost melancholy in the way the character’s eyes looked past the viewer. I flipped it open. The interior pages continued the aesthetic: clean panels, expressive faces, action sequences that flowed across pages like water.
I knew this story. I’d watched the anime more times than I could count. It was one of the few shows I’d actually revisited, usually on those late nights when I couldn’t sleep and the apartment felt too quiet.
Something about Spike’s story had always hit different for me. A guy drifting through space with no real direction, picking up work wherever he could find it, collecting people who became something like family even though none of them would admit it out loud.
The whole thing had this melancholy thread running through it, this sense that he was always running from something he couldn’t outpace. The jazz soundtrack helped. Those long, moody saxophone solos over establishing shots of the Bebop floating through the void.
The way each episode felt self-contained but still built toward something larger. And that ending. I’d seen it half a dozen times and it still made my chest feel tight, like someone had reached in and squeezed.
You’re gonna carry that weight.
Yeah. I got that.
“Bang.”
“Ooooh!”
Harlow materialized at my elbow like a ghost with twin tails.
“You like Bebop?”
“I’ve never read it. Just seen the show.”
“The manga is different! It’s more like a side story! Extra adventures that weren’t in the anime! It’s not canon but it FEELS canon, you know?”
I didn’t know. But I nodded anyway.
“You should get it!”
I looked at the price tag. Reasonable. Definitely affordable, especially now that my paycheck was significantly larger than it used to be.
“I’m not here to shop for myself.”
“But you COULD be!” Harlow’s eyes went wide with earnest conviction. “I’m giving you permission!”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It’s EXACTLY how this works! I’m your employer! I’m telling you to buy yourself a treat!”
“That’s not how employment works either.”
“It is when I say it is!” She crossed her arms, and despite her small stature, managed to look remarkably authoritative. “Isaiah. You drove me around all afternoon. You untangled my zipper. You carried my bags. You didn’t complain ONCE even when I spent twenty minutes looking at hair clips.”
“Eighteen minutes.”
“See? You were counting! That means you were annoyed but you didn’t SAY anything because you’re too nice!”
“I’m not nice.”
“You’re SO nice! You’re the nicest person I know!”
“You’ve only known me for three weeks.”
“And what I know so far is that you work too hard, you don’t sleep enough, and you never do anything just for yourself!” She pointed at the manga in my hands. “So you’re buying that. It’s not a request. It’s an ORDER from your employer.”
I looked at the manga. Dark cover. Lonely spaceman. A story about a guy who kept running until he couldn’t run anymore.
I looked at Harlow. Pink highlights. Heart-decorated nails. Eyes that genuinely seemed to care whether I bought myself a comic book.
This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
“…Fine.”
Her victory smile was blinding.
The checkout process took longer than expected, primarily because Harlow’s purchases required multiple bags.
Manga volumes. At least fifteen that I counted. Figurines in boxes decorated with Japanese text. A blanket featuring characters I didn’t recognize. Keychains. Stickers. A wall scroll. Some kind of plush creature with enormous eyes.
The total climbed past two hundred. Past two-fifty. Settled somewhere around three hundred dollars.
Harlow handed over her credit card without blinking.
“For you, sir?” The cashier, a college-aged guy with a Naruto headband, looked at my single volume.
“Just this.”
“Oh, and this!” Harlow grabbed volume 8 of Spy x Family from my other hand and added it to her pile. “On me!”
“That’s for my sister.”
“I KNOW! That’s why I’m buying it! You can’t give her a gift if you’re the one who paid for it! That’s just reimbursement!”
The cashier watched our exchange.
“Should I ring these together or separate?”
“Together!” Harlow declared. “It’s all one order!”
“She’s paying for her stuff. I’m paying for mine.”
“ISAIAH.”
“Harlow.”
We stared at each other. Her purple eyes versus my tired brown ones. A battle of wills in the middle of a manga store.
She broke first.
“FINE! But next time I’m buying you something and you can’t stop me!”
“There won’t be a next time.”
“There’s ALWAYS a next time! You work for us! We’ll do this again!”
The cashier rang up Harlow’s mountain of purchases. Then my single Cowboy Bebop volume. Fourteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.
I paid with my own money. Not the Valentine household card. My money.
It felt strange. How long had it been since I bought something I would enjoy?
Harlow gathered her bags, four of them now, and headed for the exit. I followed with my single small bag containing one manga and the Spy x Family volume Iris had requested.
“This was fun!” Harlow announced as we stepped into the late afternoon sun. “We should do this every week!”
“That seems excessive.”
“It’s not excessive! It’s bonding! Employer-employee bonding! It’s important for workplace morale!”
“Is it?”
“Definitely! I read about it in a business article!” She paused. “Okay, I saw a TikTok about it. But the TikTok cited a business article! So it counts!”
I loaded her bags into the Lexus trunk. The burgundy satin. The hair clips with little strawberries. The manga and figurines and blankets. Four hours of errands compressed into shopping bags and tissue paper.
Harlow climbed into the passenger seat and immediately pulled out her phone, probably to document her purchases for social media.
I settled into the driver’s seat. Put on my seatbelt. Started the engine.
“Hey, Isaiah?”
I looked at her.
She wasn’t looking at her phone. She was looking at me. Her expression softer than usual, less manic energy and more genuine warmth.
“Thanks for today. I know this isn’t really assistant stuff. Running around to craft stores and manga shops. But it was really nice having someone to do it with.”
Having someone to do it with.
“It wasn’t terrible,” I said.
Her smile returned, smaller this time.
“Coming from you, that’s basically a five-star review.”
I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking space.
And drove back to Valentine Estate to face Cassidy.