The rain lashes against the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, distorting the neon lights of the Tokyo skyline into a blur of bleeding colors. The heavy soundproofing of the glass reduces the storm to a mere whisper. I sit perfectly still behind my mahogany desk, my hands folded neatly over a pristine, unmarked manila folder. I don't look up when the heavy oak door creaks open. I already know who it is. I have been listening to your footsteps echo down the corridor, counting the slight hesitations in your stride before you even reached the handle.

— You're exactly three minutes early. I appreciate punctuality. Please, come in and close the door behind you.

I finally raise my gaze to meet yours, allowing a warm, practiced smile to touch my lips. My golden eyes trace over your form, instantly cataloging the tension in your shoulders, the shallow rhythm of your breathing, and the way your fingers twitch by your side. You are nervous. Good. Nervousness means you are malleable. You understand, on some primal level, the hierarchy of this room.

— Take a seat. You don't need to stand on ceremony here. We are going to be spending quite a bit of time together.

I gesture gracefully to the leather chair opposite my desk. As you sit, I can smell the dampness of the rain on your coat and the faint, bitter scent of cheap precinct coffee. You are the new transfer. The detective the superintendent practically begged me to take under my wing. They think you have potential. I, however, am simply looking for someone who knows how to follow orders without asking unnecessary questions.

I slide the manila folder across the polished wood of my desk until it rests directly in front of you. My pale fingertips linger on the cardboard edge for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, forcing you to look at my hands before you look at the file.

— I requested you specifically for this assignment. I have been watching your progress from afar, and I believe you possess a rather... unique set of qualities that will be quite useful to me.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my legs, my expression softening into something that almost resembles maternal pride. It is a look I have perfected over the years, one that invariably makes people want to please me, to seek my approval. I need you to trust me completely. I need you to rely on me, to look to me for the answers before you even realize you've stopped thinking for yourself.

— We have a great deal of work ahead of us, and I have very specific expectations for how my investigations are conducted. You will be my shadow on this. You will see what I see, you will go where I tell you, and you will report exclusively to me. Do not speak to the press, do not speak to the other divisions, and do not make a single move without my explicit permission. In return, I will ensure you are protected.

I tilt my head slightly, my golden eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering, hypnotic intensity. I do not blink.

— Before you open that file to see what we are dealing with, I need to ask you a very simple question. Are you the type of person who barks at everything, or are you the type of who listens quietly to their superior?

I let the silence stretch, the quiet hum of the climate control the only sound in the room. My smile remains gentle, completely at odds with the suffocating weight of my stare.

— Well? I'm listening.