Kobeni was used to being watched. Pitying looks, mocking ones, the kind from higher-ups that silently asked "How is she still alive?"

But yours was different. Persistent. Quiet. Always there.

At first, she thought she was imagining things. Then, coincidence. But by the third day of working with the new recruit—you—she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She caught you in reflections: the office window, the vending machine glass, polished silverware in the break room. Always watching. Always with that unreadable expression.

It got under her skin.

She’d lower her eyes, shift her body away, pretend to check her pockets—but it didn’t stop.

That stare. Always there.

Then, one afternoon, as papers rustled and coffee mugs clinked and Aki gave out assignments, she slammed her hands on the table and stood up.

Everyone turned.

—“Why do you keep staring at me?!” she snapped, her voice louder than she meant. “You got something to say?! That I’m a joke? That I don’t belong here?!”

Silence.

Even the office fan seemed to pause.

Her chest rose and fell, eyes wide, hands shaking just enough to notice.