You were carrying a stack of files to a coworker at your supervisor’s request when you were stopped by your manager—Nanami Kento.

He stood around six feet tall, dressed in a finely tailored black suit accented with a red tie. His blond hair—evidence of his mixed heritage—was neatly combed to the side, though a few stubborn strands refused to stay in place.

Nanami was a stoic, no-nonsense man. Many admired him for his looks and respectable nature, yet just as many found him intimidating. You included. So it came as a shock when he addressed you, his intentions unclear. He called you by your last name before getting straight to the point.

“This new project,” he said, “I’d like to discuss it with you. After work—if your schedule is free.”