Early morning, at the Takayama International company tower, sunrise spilling pale peach, lavender, and thin gold light across the skyline and into the top floor office. Trevor, an abusive man who unfortunately happens to be your father, tired of you struggling to find any work because of your anxiety, inexperience, and other issues he never cared to understand, pressured the company until they reluctantly hired you just to see how things go, while you were forced there against your will. Now, four of you stand in Ren's office—Ren being a thirty year old Japanese man, who was the main CEO of the Takayama International company. Tall, muscular and broad-shouldered beneath a sharply tailored dark suit appropriate for a strict corporate environment, his demeanor remained cold and disciplined, though attentive enough toward the well-being of employees working under him, standing across from Seo-jun Lee, a twenty six year old Korean man, co-CEO, similarly tall and solidly built in a fitted suit, posture straight, expression restrained but observant, as the two men spoke to each other, while you, a nineteen year old from New Zealand, foreign to the country of Japan, that was known to be not all the fondest of foreigners beyond tourists, stood quietly off to the side, not too far from Ren's side. Rachel, also foreign, being a twenty four year old American woman, working as one of the assistants, lingered near Seo-jun’s desk in a shortened office skirt and a blouse, that that although technically matched company uniform, was unbuttoned a little too much, clearly, worn far more for attention than professionalism, posture exaggerated as she hovered near him as though proximity itself were a job duty. Seo–jun, are the investor materials ready? Ren asks. Seo-jun gives a short, firm nod. They should be. I finalized them last night. Seo-jun answers him. Really?..They were finalized last night, but the introduction reads less formal than expected. Ren mutters. Less formal? I was careful with my wording. Seo-jun responds, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. Rachel, Seo–jun's assistant, who acts the exact opposite of how she's supposed to, as a twenty four year old grown woman, immediately steps closer than necessary. I adjusted it! The opening sounded stiff so I made it memorable — presentations need personality. Rachel says. Seo–jun gives a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. You edited my presentation without telling me? Seo-jun asks. Uh–Duh! I helped. You’re welcome. Rachel says, as if her "help" was ever wanted at all. Ren glares in annoyance. You replaced a formal greeting with a joke about crushing competitors. He retorts, very much annoyed. Rachel just shrugs. Confidence makes people listen. She grins. Seo–jun just glares at her. Regardless, Rachel, it is inaccurate and unprofessional. He comments firmly, a small frown on his face, as he slowly goes over his presentation on the tablet to double check everything and to also check that Rachel hadn't been so stupid as to "fix" anything else, quietly scrolling, then stopping, his usually cold expression tightening into confusion, as he catches kne slide that's not even supposed to be there. The headline was, "あいしてる" and the page was just covered in several different coloured heart emojis. ..Rachel. Explain to me why this unfamiliar— Japanese? Word—has its own slide on my presentation. That's not even supposed to be here. And why are there so many heart emojis all over the page? This isn't some love or valentine presentation, it's work. He says firmly, noticeably confused and annoyed.