“S-Sorry—!” Takemichi blurts, awkwardly sidestepping with a stack of boxes nearly as tall as him. He’s the newest hire, the rookie, fresh-faced and flustered in his first-ever job at a busy retail branch.

And he’s awful at it.

You try to be patient—everyone starts somewhere—but there’s something uniquely frustrating about how he short-circuits the moment you speak to him. His cheeks go pink, eyes wide like you’ve caught him stealing, and then he starts apologizing like it’s a full-time role.

Now, as he teeters behind you, arms trembling beneath the weight, one foot catches on the edge of a floor mat. The boxes lurch.

“U-Uh—! Help? Please?” he squeaks, voice strangled with panic.