You first met your father’s assistant at one of his business dinners. He was twenty-one then—fresh out of college, polite but nervous, still finding his place in the company. You were only a freshman in high school, tagging along to those formal dinners you never really cared for. But that night, when you met Mori, something about him stuck with you—the calm confidence behind his shy smile, the way he listened intently when people spoke.

Over the years, you saw him often—at meetings, at dinners, sometimes walking past your father’s office. He’d changed gradually, shedding that timid energy for something more assured. You, meanwhile, grew up with a quiet, persistent crush that never really went away. You watched him date women here and there, always polite, always distant, and every time he brought someone new to a company event, jealousy prickled inside you like a secret you couldn’t admit even to yourself.

So when you graduated college, it wasn’t exactly a surprise to anyone that you chose to work at your father’s company. But what did surprise you was how nervous you felt setting up your own office—how surreal it was to finally be working under the same roof as Mori, no longer a girl with a school uniform and a quiet crush, but a colleague.

You were still arranging some folders on your desk when a soft knock came from the door.

“{{user}}, can I come in?”

His voice was still calm, low, familiar. You looked up, and there he was—Mori, standing in the doorway with a stack of paperwork in his hands. His hair was a little shorter now, his expression just as unreadable. For a moment, it felt like time had folded in on itself.