Chapter 11 And so I was stuck again, with the girl with the adorable fang.

The elevator door opens.

Bright light hits my eyes, and I understand why my brain tried to short-circuit.

“Welcome to my domain~” Haruka sings, dramatically spreading her arms.

It's not an office floor.

It's... what is this?

The space stretches out massively. Like a hangar. Divided into sections that shouldn't coexist.

Left: people doing yoga. Next to them, someone on a treadmill reading a book. Beyond that, weights.

Center: normal workstations. People in suits. Screens with financial charts.

Right: a game area? Ping-pong table. Foosball. Is that giant chess?

Back: full kitchen where someone is making a bright green smoothie.

“It's this really your office-” but I can't even finish talking.

“I CAN'T ACCEPT THIS!”

A voice cuts through the air, dramatic and heartbreaking.

In the exact center of the office, two people face each other.

Man, in his twenties. Full military camouflage. Red bandana. War paint on his face.

Woman, similar age. Camouflage too. Blue bandana. Paint on her cheeks.

They are crying. Tears streaming down their war-painted faces.

“Our ideals are incompatible, Sato-san!” The man raises his fist to the sky. “Only one can prevail in this campaign!”

“Then let the stronger ideal prevail, Haa-san!” The woman extends her hand. Trembling. “I will not forget our friendship, but I will not yield either!”

“I will not forget you either! But only one—!”

A figure crosses my peripheral vision.

Quick. Direct.

Man in an impeccable gray suit. Approximately in his 20s or 30s. Perfectly combed black hair. An expression that could freeze hot coffee.

He walks straight toward the “soldiers.”

Without breaking stride.

Without changing expression.

He grabs both of them by the collars of their camouflage uniforms and lifts them slightly.

“Work,” he says. Voice dry as paper. “Now.”

“B-but Jun-san!” protests the man. “Our ideals—!”

“I don't care about your ideals.” He keeps walking. Dragging them along. “Deadline is in three hours.”

“The development of the image requires—!” says the woman.

“It requires you to finish the marketing campaign.” He deposits them—literally deposits them—at their respective desks. “Now.”

The two look at each other and sigh.

They remove their bandanas, as if they weighed more than a sack of lead, and shake hands. Without further ado, they return to typing on their respective computers while chatting happily.

Now, I would love to describe in greater detail.

“That was...” I begin.

“Resolution of creative differences!” Haruka walks ahead like a tour guide. “Sometimes they argue, but in the end they always become friends again. In the end, it's my team, created from scratch and with maximum potential! And—HELLO EVERYONE!”

She shouts the last part without transition.

And then—

As if someone had pressed a universal pause button—

EVERYONE stops.

Weights remain suspended. Ping-pong balls roll away, forgotten. Phone calls are cut off mid-sentence.

At least forty people.

They turn around.

“HARUKA-SAN!” They shout in unison with pure, genuine energy. As if a beloved celebrity had just arrived.

Haruka waves with both hands. A broad smile. They wave back.

And then—just as synchronized—they go back to what they were doing.

Weights are lifted, ping pong balls bounce, and conversations continue.

Like perfectly rehearsed choreography.

“What did I just witness?” I ask no one in particular.

The man in the suit—Jun, apparently—approaches.

Folder in hand. Expressionless.

“Haruka-san. Q3 results.”

“Jun-kun!” Haruka practically bounces. “Tell me everything!”

Jun opens the folder. Reads. Monotone. Efficient.

“Food product line: 23% increase in sales. Online courses: 157,000 new subscribers this quarter. Motivational talks: sold out in six cities. Digital content agency: three new contracts. Two international brands, one music production company.”

Wait.

“Food products?” I interrupt.

Everyone looks at me.

“I thought...” I search for words, “I thought you did coaching. For rich people.”

“Oh, I do that too!” Haruka counts on her fingers. “But it's only 30% of the business. Products are 25%. Online courses 20%. Talks 15%—”

“You have a product line?” I repeat, processing.

“Energy bars, supplements, wellness teas—” she lists casually.

“And a content agency?”

Jun answers for her. Flat tone. “Video production, podcasts, creator representation. We currently manage eight content creators, four influencers, two singers—”

“Including Rina-chan!” Haruka jumps up. “She just released a new single! Three million views in two days!”

The world stops.

“Rina?” My voice sounds strange. Distant.

“Yes! Do you know her? Rina Akiyama. Super talented idol—she sings, dances, acts—”

“I know who she is.”

Too quick.

Too defensive.

Miki looks at me. Eyes narrowed. “You know who she is?”

“I mean,” I clear my throat, “I've heard of her. On the internet. Casually. Where things are that one... sees. Sometimes.”

Silence.

And then Miki opens her eyes. Wide.

“Wait.”

Oh no.

“Nii-san.”

Please don't.

“HER? Rina Akiyama IS the idol you like?”

“I don't know what—”

“HER!” Miki turns to Haruka. “When we talked! I told you that Shon had only admired one idol in his life! I didn't know it was Rina-chan, Shon never mentioned her.”

Haruka blinks. Processes. “Wait, we talked about that?”

“Yes! Last week! When we were talking about bringing Shon—”

“I think I remember!”

“If you remember, we talked about it, but anyway, Rina-chan!”

“Rina-chan, how about we bring her to motivate him!” Haruka jumps up and down happily.

“You just want an excuse to bring Rina-chan, but it could work,” Miki looks at me playfully.

“Rina-chan!” Haruka laughs.

I can't, just thinking about it... I'm blushing. Worst case scenario, Rina-sama... no, she can't see me like this. No. She can't see me, period.

“Hey...” I say quietly to Kazumi, “Do I... Do I look presentable?”

“What do you think?” Kazumi says with a look of contempt and pity, as she takes an energy drink can from a mini-fridge at the entrance.

While this is happening, Jun watches. His expression is neutral. But there is something—anger?—in his eyes. He turns and walks towards us.

He stops in front of us, and even though I feel embarrassed, this man is terrifying.

“Kazumi-san.”

She looks at him. Automatic defensiveness. “What do you want?”

“That's your third energy drink today.”

“So what if it is?”

“It's going to ruin your kidneys.” He holds out his hand. “Give me the can.”

“No.”

“Kazumi—”

“No way.”

Jun sighs. Then—without asking permission—she reaches for her messy hair while Kazumi hides the can away from Jun.

She fixes it gently.

Like a mother fixing her daughter's hair before school.

“You also forgot to comb your hair properly.”

Kazumi freezes.

Then she turns RED.

“I-I didn't forget—!”

“And—” he takes a small bottle out of his jacket's inside pocket, “your medicine. You left it on your desk again.”

“I—!”

“Take it with water. Not with—”

“SHUT UP!”

Kazumi EXPLODES.

Jump.

Hands grab Jun's shirt collar.

Shake.

Left-right-left-right.

“I'M NOT A GIRL! STOP TREATING ME LIKE—!”

“You're proving my point exactly,” says Jun. Calm. Being literally shaken.

“I HATE YOU!”

“You don't hate me.”

“YES, I DO!”

“Take your medicine, Kazumi-san.”

“AAAAHHH!”

She let him go. Stomps toward water dispenser and grabs a cup with unnecessary violence.

Jun straightens up. Adjusts tie. Shirt. Jacket.

As if nothing happened.

I watch this.

And I think: Is this how I'm going to be treated here?

Jun, now perfectly composed, walks over.

Not toward me.

Toward Miki.

Who is still arguing with Haruka about Rina-chan.

He approaches casually.

“Excuse me, Miki-san.”

Miki turns around.

She sees Jun and her face lights up. As if she had seen her best friend.

“Jun-san!”

Something cold settles in my stomach.

Jun bows his head. Slightly. Respectfully. “Is this your brother?”

He points at me.

“Yes!” Miki practically glows. Pure energy. “It's Shon! My nii-san!”

Miki looks strangely happy? Talking to that guy made her that happy.

And if that weren't enough, the way Jun approached Miki.

Familiar. Casual. Natural.

I look at Jun.

Now I really look at him.

I initially said between 20 and 30, but I think I'm going to narrow the range down to approximately 25 to 28 years old. Impeccable suit. Perfect posture. Perfectly styled hair. Symmetrical face. Professional. Competent. Successful functional adult.

Handsome. The kind of handsome that mothers and aunts approve of.

“A responsible adult with a stable career” and handsome too?

He represents everything I hate, but that's not important. What's really important is...

Something cold runs down my spine.

Could it be that Miki...

No, no, no, no, no, no, no! That guy is something I will never allow. Stay away from my sister.

While Miki smiles and points at Shon, Jun turns toward him and extends his hand.

“Nice to meet you. Jun Ishikawa. COO of Yamaguchi Corporation.”

Miki comes up beside him, jumping up and down with joy.

Normally, in a situation like this, I would take advantage of my NEET powers and be unpleasant, but with Miki watching and this feeling, I...

I take his hand and squeeze it as hard as I can.

Jun doesn't react. In fact, he effortlessly matches my strength in the handshake.

Ugh! I knew he was weak, but not that weak...

“Shon,” I say, my voice flat as I endure the pain. “Miki's brother.”

“Miki talks about you a lot,” says Jun, letting go of my hand.

Miki?!

Not “Hoshino-san.” Not “Miki-san.”

Just MIKI?!

“We work together often,” Miki continues.

Often.

We work together.

My brain constructs a complete narrative:

Miki arrives at the office. Jun too. Good mornings exchanged. Coffee shared in the communal kitchen. Conversations about projects that drift into personal ones. Casual lunches. Laughter. Glances that last half a second longer. Growing familiarity. And—

“Jun-san keeps the whole office running,” says Miki. Still smiling. “Without him, we'd be lost.”

And she ADMIRES him...

I don't know if I can top this, God.

First, she talks about him warmly. She lights up when she sees him.

“Miki exaggerates,” says Jun. Modest. “It's teamwork. We all keep this place running.”

AND HE'S ALSO MODEST.

OF COURSE.

Handsome, successful, competent, and modest.

“How long have you been working together?” The question slips out before I can filter it.

Jun thinks. “Six months?”

“Seven,” Miki corrects him immediately. “Since I started here.”

Seven months.

And she never mentioned it.

Or did she?

Did he mention ‘Jun-san’ at some point and I didn't pay attention?

“Nii-san?” Miki looks at me. Concerned. “You seem strange. Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” I lie.

“Ah! That's right, about the delivery...” Miki seems to be talking to Jun about something important, but I can't focus on her words. Seeing them together clouds my judgment. I need to pull myself together.

And so I walk away toward the drinks corner while Miki and Jun continue talking.

Kazumi is already there, finishing her medicine. Her face is still red from the previous scene.

We both lean against the wall, near a pink mini fridge, staring ahead without saying anything.

Jun maintains that perfect neutrality while he talks. Professional. Controlled.

And Miki is beaming.

“I hate that guy,” Kazumi murmurs, clearly looking at Jun.

I take a can from the pink mini fridge, which for some reason only has energy drinks. I open it.

Pssssss.

The sound makes Kazumi turn around immediately. She looks at me. Then at the can. Her eyes narrow dangerously.

“Me too,” I say before taking a sip, still looking at Miki laughing at something Jun said.

“HEY!” Kazumi has the exact same look on her face as when she jumped on Jun. “THOSE ARE MY DRINKS!”

I ignore her, but not completely. Her drinks? It makes sense, the pink mini fridge matches her headphones, and this drink is the same one she was drinking when that guy confronted her. I had no idea it was her drink, and I want to apologize. In fact, I don't even know why I took the drink in the first place. I was so angry that I didn't even realize it, but I can't back down now because...

My instincts are kicking in. I can't look her in the face, but I feel her hungry gaze for justice, and more than justice, blood, fixed on my neck. If she could shake off a guy like Jun, who is clearly stronger than me, what awaits me? Is today my last day? Should I activate the belly protocol?

Sweat begins to run down my forehead. My survival instinct screams again to activate the belly protocol immediately, but I manage to stay on my feet.

“What about Haruka?” I ask without changing my tone or expression, desperate to change the subject.

“She's looking after them,” says a voice to my right.

Haruka appears out of nowhere wearing incognito celebrity-style sunglasses, holding her own can of energy drink. She opens the can with a satisfied pssss and looks at us over her dark glasses with a smile that doesn't bode well.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your... moment, you finally exchanged words,” she says happily.

Before I can figure out how she got to our side without us noticing, Haruka takes a sip and her face completely transforms. Wide eyes. Hands on cheeks.

“SWEET! SO SWEET! MAXIMUM ENERGY POTENTIAL!”

“HEY HARUKA-SAN, THOSE ARE MY DRINKS!!” Kazumi jumps up trying to reach the can, but Haruka lifts it up, taking advantage of her height. Kazumi jumps once, twice, without success, and frustrated, she turns around and snatches MY can from my hands before I can react.

“They're all mine!” she declares while I'm still processing what just happened.

“But the taste is incredible!” Haruka takes another sip. “I feel like I could run a marathon!”

“Then buy a whole store, but these ARE MINE—!” Kazumi begins, but I interrupt:

“—come on, Kazu-chan, I need energy for—” Haruka continues.

“—No NO NO—” as she starts drinking from the can I take from my hands.

I'm not going to lie, seeing a girl drinking from my can was weird, but not in a bad way, I think.

As this happens, their voices overlap in total chaos until two words cut through the air:

“ENOUGH.”

Miki and Jun. In unison. With that tone.

Miki appears in front of Haruka and me with that expression—it's not the smiling Miki, it's the Miki from The Room. Jun stands in front of Kazumi with a look that could freeze lava.

“Haruka-san,” Miki says with dangerous calm, “you're already naturally hyperactive. These drinks make you uncontrollable.” She turns to me. “And you, nii-san. We let you get away with a lot. A lot. But energy drinks are crossing the line.”

Haruka and I are reduced to a pair of children being scolded. “Are you really the boss?” I whisper to her. She smiles uncomfortably. “Miki is really scary.”

For the first time, I couldn't argue with Haruka's words.

A few seconds later, another punished child joins the line. Kazumi is clearly upset, but she still keeps her head down.

“This is your fault,” Kazumi whispers, looking at us on the floor.

“Sorry,” I whisper back without moving.

Jun sighs. Miki sighs. At exactly the same time, as if rehearsed.

“The terrible behavior of our siblings and boss is...” says Miki, looking at Jun.

“It's exhausting,” Jun finishes, looking at Miki, then looking down at Kazumi. “My little sister, I thought she would change after I dragged her to work, but it's been six months and nothing.”

Wait, sister? I stop to look at Kazumi—pink hair, visible fangs, headphones hanging around her neck, in terms of clothing, she looks as casual as me, but more adorned, IT specialist who hates me—she's Jun's SISTER—that perfect guy?

“Well, if we keep going like this, we won't make any progress. Time for a tour! Jun-san, shall we show nii-san around the facilities?”

“Yes! Tour! Show us around, Jun-san!” Haruka says, and just as Jun nods, three people from the design team materialize around Haruka like an assault squad.

“The client rejected the counteroffer! We need you here NOW!”

“Now? But—!” Haruka can't even finish before they grab her—literally—one on each arm and a third pushing from behind.

“NOOOO! MY TOUR! SHON-KUN NEEDS ME!” Her screams fade as they drag her into a conference room.

“Shon-kun?” Kazumi says, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?” Miki says teasingly, “Shon-kun?”

Even I feel out of place with that, yet no one is even going to mention what just happened?

Jun-san looks at me.

“Don't worry about Haruka. This is normal,” Jun says casually. “Let's go.”

Wait, what? Did he read my mind? Jun, that guy is dangerous in more ways than one.

Tour - 3:18 PM

Jun walks ahead with Miki by his side, talking about business while she nods and adds comments. I walk several steps behind. I know they said tour, but this seems to be just a normal hallway. It's to be expected; I don't think the suitors can handle the circus that is the main section. As I walk behind them, I notice something...

Kazumi is also coming—following us, alternating between glaring at Jun and glaring at me.

“Why is she following us?” I ask, not addressing anyone in particular.

“Because I have to set up the equipment in the interview room!” Kazumi shouts from behind. “It's not because of you guys!”

“I didn't ask about you specifically—”

“Well, it sounded like you did!”

“How could it sound—?” I begin, but she interrupts me:

“Because your tone implied—!”

“My tone is neutral—!”

“YOUR EXISTENCE is annoying!”

“YOURS isn't exactly pleasant either.”

Jun and Miki stop and turn around at the same time with that synchronized killer expression that I'm starting to recognize as their shared specialty as responsible siblings.

“Kazumi,” says Jun.

“Nii-san,” says Miki.

Kazumi and I automatically back away, as if we had pressed the same panic button.

“Walk,” Jun orders.

“Without fighting,” Miki adds.

We look at each other—Kazumi and I—then look away and walk behind them without looking at each other, hands in our pockets, sulking.

Jun and Miki resume their conversation in low voices. “Sometimes I get tired of being the bad guy,” Jun says with a barely perceptible sigh.

“I know,” Miki replies. “But someone has to do it.”

“Do you think they'll ever learn?”

“I have hope. Not much. But it's there.”

They smile—small, shared smiles, like friends who understand each other perfectly.

I watch them from behind. Jun and Miki talking as equals, as people who understand each other, as...

“I hate that guy,” I say without thinking much about it.

“Me too,” Kazumi murmurs from beside me.

I look at her in surprise. She doesn't look at me, she keeps watching Jun—her older brother acting like an older brother. Like I should be. I understand perfectly.

The silence becomes uncomfortable until I can't take it anymore.

“Why are you coming to the interview room?”

“To set up equipment. Cameras, audio, the whole system.” Pause. “The previous devices weren't working. I have to install new ones.”

“What kind of equipment?”

He looks at me as if assessing whether it's worth explaining. “Dedicated PC for processing. RTX 4070, 32GB RAM, Ryzen 7. For real-time video processing without lag.”

Blink. “That's a good PC.”

“It's necessary for the resolution we're working with.”

“But it's not the best. You could use a 4090 for—”

“The 4090 is overkill for our needs. The 4070 has a better price-performance ratio for simple streaming.” There's a defensive edge to his voice.

“But processing streams—”

“It's compensated for by the Ryzen 7. Multithreading handles the load better than pure GPU in this use case.”

We've stopped without realizing it, looking directly at each other for the first time without immediate hostility.

“What storage?” I ask.

“2TB NVMe. Samsung 980 Pro. Read speed 7000 MB/s.”

“Nice.”

“What about the bottleneck?”

“It's optimal.” Kazumi glances at me sideways. “The bottleneck in streaming is never storage anyway.”

“Unless you're recording simultaneously,” I counter. “Then you do need sustained write speed.”

“That's why the 980 Pro. Sustained write speed of 5000 MB/s. Enough for four simultaneous 4K streams with buffer.”

“Assuming H.265 compression.”

“Obviously. H.264 would be a waste of space.” Pause. “And before you say anything, yes, I tried AV1. Too CPU-intensive for real time.”

“I was going to say that.”

“I know.” Kazumi looks almost happy.

We keep walking. Jun and Miki in front, us behind. But the tension has... eased. It's not that we're happy, but at least we don't want to kill each other.

“Changing the subject a little, does this happen regularly?” I ask after a moment.

“What?”

“Everything. The commotion. The people in costumes. Haruka being dragged away.”

Kazumi snorts. “Yes. Regularly. Although ‘regular’ is a relative term here. Haruka-san is... unpredictable. Every week there's something new.” She looks at me. “You yourself are proof of how irregular she is.”

I can't deny that.

“A consultant? To reject suitors?” Kazumi shakes her head. “Only Haruka-san would come up with that.”

“And Reina,” I add.

“Who's Reina?” Kazumi says simply. “Is she another crazy blonde billionaire?” She almost laughs.

“No, she's not blonde.”

“It almost doesn't sound like a joke when you say it.”

“Ha ha ha.” Shon lets out an awkward laugh.

“... ”

“... ”

“It's not a joke, right?”

“NO, Reina is an evil, heartless CEO!” says a voice beside us. “Like Shon-kun said, she's crazy!”

I turn to look at Kazumi. She looks back at me.

“I didn't say anything,” she says quickly.

“Neither did I.

We turn around.

Haruka is walking beside us.

Fake glasses. Mustache included.

Like a spy costume from a 1960s movie.

We both look at her.

“How long have you been there?” I ask slowly.

“Almost from the beginning!” Haruka smiles behind the ridiculous mustache. “Since they started talking about components. Very technical, very cute. From hate to friendship so fast!”

“We're not friends,” Kazumi and I say at the same time.

“That perfect timing!” Haruka applauds. “Like a married couple!”

“Haruka, please—” I begin.

“Earlier you were yelling at each other every two seconds, and now here you are chatting so nicely with Kazumi-chan. Invite me to the wedding—”

“THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING!” Kazumi practically yells. Her face is completely red. “I feel NOTHING for this—this—NEET! NOTHING! He's the OPPOSITE of my type! If he were the last man on earth, I—!”

“Calm down,” I interrupt. “You don't need to be so—”

“SPECIFIC! I need to be VERY specific to make it CLEAR—!”

“I was going to say irritating, it's just a joke from Haruka—”

“NO! Because Haruka-san is implying that I—!”

“I'm just observing potential chemistry!” Haruka sings.

“THERE IS NO CHEMISTRY!”

“I'm just saying what I see!” Haruka shrugs, enjoying the chaos.

“Well, you need new glasses because there's NOTHING—!” Kazumi begins.

“Technically, I already wear glasses,” I point out. “Fake ones, but glasses nonetheless.”

“You're not helping,” I murmur to Haruka.

“I was just saying—”

“Excuse me!”

Two men appear, running. The same ones from before.

“Have you seen Haruka-san?”

Haruka immediately hides behind us. “Thank you for being such cute and loyal employees who cover for me—”

Kazumi and I look at each other and slide to the sides simultaneously.

We point at Haruka in unison.

“There,” we say.

“TREASON!” Haruka screams as she is lifted up.

“It's not treason if there was never any loyalty,” I say.

“You deserve it,” Kazumi adds, sticking out her tongue.

“NO!” Haruka is dragged away. “You'll regret this—!”

“I doubt it,” I interrupt her.

“Not as long as I have Jun,” Kazumi adds.

Haruka's screams fade away.

Silence.

“Truce,” I say.

“Don't talk to me,” Kazumi confirms. “I don't want any more misunderstandings.”

What the hell is wrong with her?

“You're impossible.”

But she doesn't even deign to look at me anymore.

Interview Room - 4:28 PM

The room is functional. Table, chairs, window, and enough technical equipment to make a television studio look amateurish. Cameras, lights, microphones, cables everywhere, and in the corner, the PC Kazumi mentioned—black tower, LEDs off, screen displaying capture software.

“Kazumi-chan, is thirty minutes enough?” Miki asks.

“More than enough.”

Miki looks at me. “Nii-san. Don't touch anything.”

“I wasn't planning to—”

“Nothing. Don't even look at the equipment.”

“Now you're controlling my eyes?”

“With your track record, yes.” Final tone. “Understood?”

“...What should I look at?”

“Hmm, how about Kazumi? She's pretty.”

I can't deny it, she is quite cute, unfortunately her corrosive attitude ruins everything else. As if I care, what really matters is... Rina-sama... is she really part of this company?

“Jun and I have to go, we'll be back when your interview with the suitor starts.” Miki waves her hand in a hurry. “Kazumi-chan, please take care of him.”

Kazumi gives a thumbs up as if she were taking care of a friend's pet.

They both leave. Kazumi is already working—connecting cables, typing code, completely in her element. I sit as far away as possible and watch silently because apparently my sister has taken away my privileges to watch everything else.

Interview Room - 5:15 PM

“Done.” Kazumi straightens up. “System functional. Everything synchronized. Audio, video, recording—” She pauses, frowning at the screen, then me, again.

“What did I do now?”

She keeps looking at me for two more seconds. “All right, I'm outta here.”

She ignores me, wow, what a surprise.

She starts walking toward the door, almost leaves, but stops and turns around with that expression I recognize as a prelude to trouble.

“People like you are dangerous.”

Here we go again. “Goodbye, you're done.”

“No motivation. No direction. Just existing.” She walks back. “Four years as a NEET. Aren't you ashamed?”

“And I have to answer you? Can you get lost?”

“A loser like you can't shut me up because—”

“But you can attack me because? Because you work? Because you're responsible? Because I'm here?”

“It's not attacking, it's reality! Your sister works while you—”

“My sister is fine. She doesn't need you to defend her from me.”

“Fine? Carrying you?” He sits down in front of me. “Miki-san works here, she designs, she creates. And you? You eat what she cooks, you live in the house she pays for—”

“First, that house is ours, we don't pay to live there. Second, you don't care what I do, do you? What is this?”

“Because Miki is my friend!”

“Once I tried to leave and Miki cried. What did you want me to do? Let my sister—?”

Tense silence.

“That was—” Kazumi begins.

“Unnecessary, I know. But you started with—”

Her hand gestures emphatically and hits a can.

Everything happens in slow motion. The can flies. Toward the wiring. Inevitable impact.

Splash.

The cables get wet. Click. Disconnection.

The screen flickers.

Absolute silence.

Kazumi looks at the screen. She looks at the cable. She looks at the can. She looks at me.

“This is your—”

“Don't you dare,” I interrupt her. “Your hand. Your can. Your fault.”

“If you hadn't made me angry—!”

“Oh, sure! Blame the NEET. Universal solution for everything.”

“You started it with—!”

“After you called me dangerous for no reason!”

“I had valid reasons—!”

“That you threw the wiring along with the can!”

We stare at each other. Breathing heavily.

Kazumi walks to the wiring. Examines it. Curses. Takes out her phone. “Shit.”

“Ugh, look, let's fix this and then fight. Severity on a scale of one to immediate dismissal?”

“Main connector disconnected. At least 1 hour repair time. Suitor arrives in... 15 minutes.”

“Can't you just—?”

“No. It needs complete recalibration.” He pauses. Thinks. His expression changes. “There is an option.”

“Quick, tell me.”

“We do the interview together.”

Lobby - Kuroshima Building - 5:00 PM

Tanaka Hiroshi stepped out of the executive elevator holding the bouquet of red roses.

He walked toward the lobby—tie slightly crooked as always, hands trembling slightly as always—and knelt in front of the tenth vase in the row. He removed the previous flowers, which were beginning to wilt, wrapped them in paper with absurd delicacy, and placed the new ones in their place.

From the reception desk, Kiki watched, as she did every day.

The way his hands treated those flowers.

The way he murmured something—apologizing to the wilted flowers—before taking them away.

The way he smiled.

Tanaka stood up, picked up the old flowers, and disappeared into the elevator.

Kiki returned to her screen. On it, she could see Tanaka going up in the elevator.

She smiled.

And went back to work.