9 AM. The eighth floor of Akasaka ASK Building, Third Sales Department. Riko Ayase stood before her boss's desk. "The numbers don't match." A terse observation. But that single sentence made Riko's heart feel like it had stopped completely. The man standing before her was 36 years old. Third Sales Department Director—Shinichiro Mizuuchi. Sharp black hair, piercing gray-tinged eyes. A permanent crease between his brows. Around the office, they called him "The Ice Wall Miura." Since Riko's second year here, he'd been running this division without change. "I sincerely apologize." Her own voice surprised her with how small it sounded. Tension made her lace her left fingers together—an old habit. Mizuuchi pinched the estimate between his fingers. His gaze was ice itself. "Don't apologize. Fix it. Lucky we caught this before sending it to the client." The words were less an observation than a verdict. Riko took the documents and returned to her desk. She felt the eyes on her. Her coworkers pretended to focus on their work, but they'd all felt the shift in the air. She booted up her computer. Opened the Excel file. The moment she checked it, heat flooded her cheeks. The unit price column. One digit—wrong. Such a basic mistake— A calculation error so simple it was embarrassing. Her senior colleague, Aya Yano, approached quietly. 31 years old, experienced in sales. "You okay?" "Yes. I'll fix it." Yano nodded slightly. There was something in her expression—not sympathy, but knowing. "The director's strict, but everyone who's trained under him becomes first-rate. You'll be fine." Yano's words were kind, but Riko's anxiety didn't fade. 3 PM. Riko submitted the corrected estimate to Mizuuchi's desk again. "Corrections complete." Mizuuchi took it silently and began reviewing. Riko watched his concentrated profile tensely. A distinctly visible silver ring—a simple band on his left ring finger. She didn't know when he'd started wearing it. His eyes moved methodically. Up and down, multiple times, checking every detail. That precision, Riko was beginning to understand, was about never disappointing a client. Five minutes. It felt long. Mizuuchi gave a slight nod. "Good. Send it." Short words. But they contained everything Riko had been seeking. "Thank you so much!" The words came out before she could stop them. In that instant, Mizuuchi had already moved on to the next task. His strictness wasn't cruelty, Riko realized with near certainty—it was the pursuit of perfection. That's why his colleagues respected him. 7 PM. Riko left the office. Her tired feet carried her toward Akasaka Station. In the crowd outside the station, someone called out. "Excuse me, you're Ayase, right?" She turned around— Mid-30s. A man with bright caramel-colored semi-long hair tucked behind his ear. Wearing a suit, but different from Mizuuchi's. He radiated a softer aura. A calm smile on his face. Riko had never seen this face before. "Oh. Yes." "I'm Yuma Ichikawa. Mizuuchi's college classmate." Riko was startled for a moment. The director's friend? "I heard from him that he had an excellent subordinate. Happened to spot you, so I thought I'd say hello." His gentle demeanor eased her tension slightly. So different from Mizuuchi's coldness. It was hard to believe this man was his friend. "The director mentioned me...?" "He did. Said you work hard. He doesn't say much, but he notices." Those words resonated in Riko's chest. Ichikawa invited her to a nearby café—"Capo de Luce." An Italian café. Famous for latte art. 32 counter seats. Crowded with office ladies during the day, bar patrons at night. They sat at a counter seat in the back. "Blend coffee, please." "Same." The coffee arrived. Steam rose from the cups. "He looks scary, but he's actually very caring. He's just clumsy—can't put his kindness into words." Ichikawa continued matter-of-factly. His tone carried warmth for his friend. "It's always been like that. Even in college. He can't express his feelings well, so he ends up carrying everything alone. People misunderstand him a lot because of it." Riko remembered Mizuuchi's harshness during the day and the anonymous messages' gentleness at night. Those warm words. The message that said progress mattered, even if it wasn't perfect. Could it be— No. That's impossible. But... Ichikawa's words planted a small question in Riko's mind. "Let's talk again sometime, if you'd like." He handed her a business card. A foreign consulting firm's logo. Senior Consultant. With that bright smile, he left. Night. Back home, Riko picked up her smartphone. She opened her SNS app. A new message from the anonymous account "@silent_north_star" had arrived. *'About the estimate—good work. Perfect execution. Someone's always watching your effort.'* Riko caught her breath. They knew the estimate was corrected. They knew Mizuuchi's reaction— That nod this afternoon— The sender of tonight's message knew. Night wind blew through the balcony overlooking the Meguro River, gently stirring her hair. *(Who are you?)* That question still had no answer. But one thing was certain now. The harshness of day and the gentleness of night. If those two worlds came from the same person— She laced her left fingers together tightly. Her heart wouldn't stop racing.