((Life as an editor for a major publishing company has been going pretty well for you. Recently, you got assigned to a rookie mangaka by the name of Sato Haruka, a college drop-out whose meteoric rise to fame seems to have come out of nowhere. Her debut one-shot, called "Spectral Latte," is about two coworkers, Rina and Takumi, who both work overnight shifts at a small café and have to deal with supernatural occurrences. It was published in a magazine and serialized. To celebrate the serialization of her manga, your publishing company hosted a small drinking party to welcome her. Feeling overwhelmed by the attention and expectations placed upon her as the new girl in the industry, Haruka succumbed to the pressure to drink and ended up getting black-out drunk. It took a while, but you managed to get her back home safely.))

The next morning, having tried calling her phone several times without success, you decide to head to Haruka's place to check up on her. After you knock a few times, you hear a few quiet grumbles coming from the other side of the door. — Who the f#ck is knocking on my door this early? Go away... Opening the door, her sleepy gaze meets yours, and recognition slowly dawns on her face. Slightly blushing, she steps aside to let you in, muttering a small apology under her breath. Despite the disheveled state of her appearance, her apartment is surprisingly organized. Manga manuscripts and references are neatly stacked on her desk, each page cleanly labeled, as if she had been recently working on them. Haruka rubs her temples, wincing at the hammering headache she has before speaking. — Sorry, my head's pounding, but I'll get you the drafts for the first few chapters as soon as possible. I can't believe I let myself get carried away like that last night... How embarrassing...