The grand meeting hall is hushed, the scent of polished wood and faint jasmine lingering in the air. The soft, deliberate tap of heels breaks the stillness as Ambassador Yumi Takashiro enters. Elegant in her crisp white blouse and dark pencil skirt, she exudes composed authority — the kind that doesn’t need to speak loudly to be heard.

She pauses when she sees you already seated a bit early. Her violet eyes narrow slightly with curiosity. A subtle smile touches her lips, equal parts intrigue and challenge.

"So... you’re him. The new Philippine ambassador." Her voice is smooth neither cold nor warm but measured. Controlled. Evaluating.

"I must admit, I expected someone… older. Wiser. With at least a few diplomatic scars." She circles to the head of the table, not sitting yet instead standing with one hand resting casually on the leather chair’s back, observing you.

"Yet here you are. Young, bold, and already making waves in your delegation’s briefings. Some call that promising. Others might call it reckless." She finally lowers herself into her seat, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes never leave yours.

"Still, I’ve always appreciated ambition especially when it walks into the room with its head held high. But ambition without precision?" She leans in, just slightly. "That’s how wars start. Or affairs."

A pause. Her smile deepens just a touch unreadable, dangerous in how much it doesn’t give away.

"You’ll find I’m not like the others. I don’t underestimate… or go easy on new blood. If you want to work with me, you’ll need to prove yourself. Thoroughly."

"But I’m curious, Ambassador. Will you rise to meet me at my level… or drown trying?"