Chapter 1
I told her I’d been promoted. Sub-manager. Not exactly headline material.
We were walking our usual route by the river, wild grass flicking at our legs. pi pi didn’t say much. Just stepped down the bank and sat in the weeds.
“What’s a sub-manager?” she asked.
“Huh? You mean, like, what I do? My responsibilities?”
“No, no. I mean the definition. Like, asking ‘What’s a hamburger?’”
“Isn’t that... kind of a concept?”
“Exactly, dummy,” she said, giving my knee a light smack. “Everyone sort of knows what a hamburger is, but it depends on the place.”
“I guess that’s true? Then what is the definition of a hamburger?”
“It’s fries’ sidekick.”
At that, she leaned against my knee like it was a theater armrest and started absentmindedly rummaging through a patch of clover with her fingers.
“If that’s the case, wouldn’t drinks count as hamburgers too?”
I glanced up toward the sky. She let out a soft laugh.
“Drinks are drinks.”
“And hamburgers are hamburgers?”
“This is why people who drink nothing but sugary coffee are hopeless,” she muttered, plucking a clover and spinning it between her fingers.
“What’s wrong with that…” I pouted, turning my gaze to the river.
Still leaning on me, she shifted a little toward the clover patch again.
“Drinks stand alone. But have you ever eaten just a burger with no fries?”
“Sure. Totally normal.”
“That’s the exception,” she said, still holding the clover as she brushed aside the leaves with her palm. “At most burger joints, the fries come with pride. If you step on pride, the whole project collapses. You’re a sub-manager, right? You should know better.”
“Whaaat, that’s cheating.”
I turned toward her.
“Not cheating,” she said, immediately handing me the clover.
“Uh… thanks.”
I ducked my chin slightly as I took it. Without missing a beat, she leaned harder into my elbow.
“See? You’ve got no eye for detail. Count the leaves.”
I lifted it to eye level—four.
“Whoa! A four-leaf clover! How do you keep finding these?”
“That’s not a four-leaf. It’s five.”
She grabbed my hand, tilted the clover toward the river, and pointed to a tiny fifth leaf tucked right in the middle.
“If you look at clovers long enough, they just start popping out at you.”
“Heh. I see.”
Through the five-leaf clover, I watched the river sway gently in the breeze.
“If you really love three-leaf clovers, you get good at spotting the special ones,” she said, her gaze already shifting back down. She plucked another and handed it over. “This one’s a four-leaf.”
“Thanks. Seriously, that’s amazing.”
“Come here, grass boy.”
She shifted away and pointed to a spot next to her sneaker. I got up, stepped over, and sure enough, there it was—another four-leaf.
“What the… Are you farming these?”
“Not a bad idea. I could sell clover pots with a guaranteed four-leaf tucked in. Though someone’s probably beat me to it.”
She picked one more, gave the patch a quick once-over, and spotted another.
“You can have that one.”
“Thanks,” I said, plucking it carefully. The stem was long and soft, the leaves a little jagged at the edges.
“But if there’s only one four-leaf per pot, people might fight over it.”
“For those people, we offer the value two-pot set. Obviously.”
She withdrew her hand from the patch and looked out toward the water.
“I’ll do it someday, when I’m feeling ultra-productive. Maybe. Anyway—what about you?”
“What about me?”
While trimming the stem, I felt a soft tap on my knee.
“The definition of a sub-manager.”
“We’re still on that?”
I shifted and sat back down in the clover patch.
“Let’s see… A hamburger, huh? Oh, right. Okay, so the system is the bottom bun, the team’s the filling, and the top bun is… like, stakeholders or something.”
pi pi chuckled, twirling the four-leaf between her fingers.
“‘Stakeholders or something’?”
“Well, it’s not just stakeholders. Could be complainers too. Depends.”
“But then where’s the manager? Or the sub-manager?”
I furrowed my brow and spun my own clover.
“That’s where the fries come in.”
She tapped my knee again, this time more gently.
“Fries give perspective. They help you see the whole picture. The manager is the container. The sub-manager… is the fries.”
“Wait—doesn’t that make the sub-manager the star?”
I grinned. She leaned against me again.
“Isn’t the hamburger the star?”
“Right, right. Got carried away.”
I laughed softly and glanced toward the river. She stayed quiet, still studying her clover, still leaning on me.
“Well, whatever. I like fries anyway.”
“Me too. I kind of want some now. Let’s grab some on the way home.”
I pulled my employee ID from my pocket and slid the clovers into the case behind it.
“Sure. I’ll treat you to fries to celebrate the promotion. You can even go large.”
“Nice! Wait—just fries?”
“Anything else is on you.”
She glanced toward the river again.
“Let’s go, Weedie. We’ll eat at home.”
“Okay.”
I stood up, brushing grass from my pants. The river rippled—maybe fish, feeding near the surface. pi pi was already ahead, pushing her way through the grass. I followed, the blades rustling around us.
