10 AM. The eighth floor of the Akasaka ASK Building, the Third Sales Department office floor. A call came through on 綾瀬 璃子's desk phone. *Piri piri piri.* She picked up the receiver. A low voice came through. "綾瀬, come to my office." The voice was mechanical. Emotionless. Or rather—emotions were being completely suppressed. That was just how 水卜's voice was. "Y-yes, understood." She'd slipped into formal speech without thinking. The moment she set down the receiver, her heart began pounding violently. *(Did I make a mistake somewhere?)* The estimate she'd submitted yesterday was already revised. The proposal materials, the client emails—everything had been checked. So why did she have this nagging feeling— "璃子, what's wrong? Your face is pale." Her senior, 矢野, had called out to her. A 31-year-old sales veteran. The one who always looked out for 璃子 in this department. "Oh, the boss is calling me in." "Ah. I see. Do your best." There was something in those words. Not sympathy. Encouragement. 璃子 stood up and headed toward the boss's office. From her desk to the boss's office was only thirty meters. But the distance felt impossibly far. She stood in front of the office door. Wood. A glass window with 水卜's name etched into it. She knocked. Her fingers were trembling. "Come in." The reply came back. She opened the door. The office was smaller than she'd expected. About four and a half tatami mats. A desk. Bookshelves. A small sofa for meetings. That was all. No decoration. Everything unnecessary had been stripped away. The space itself seemed to reflect who 水卜 was as a person. As she approached the desk, 水卜 was on the phone by the window. Receiver to his ear, eyes fixed on his monitor. His profile was like a statue—completely expressionless. Straight posture. Black hair. Handsome features, but with a crease between his brows. The usual crease. It appeared when he was thinking about something. 璃子 stood in the corner of the office. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She rarely got to observe the boss from this close. 水卜 spoke. Concise. Precise. "Right. Those terms are fine. Send me the revised version by Friday." She couldn't hear the other person's response. But 水卜 seemed satisfied. "Thanks." He set down the receiver. He pressed a button on his desk and ended the call. Then, slowly, 水卜 swiveled his chair around. Their eyes met. His eyes were cold gray. Completely devoid of emotion. But something seemed to lurk in their depths. 璃子 couldn't tell what. "The client proposal. I'm giving you the latest version." A short instruction. He pulled out a thick file from the stack on the side of his desk. Three centimeters thick at least. Inside were proposal materials, estimates, concept documents, design drafts. Everything. "This is the final version. If there are mistakes, there's no going back. Check it carefully." "Understood." She stepped forward to take the file. That's when it happened. Her hands, slick with nervousness, lost their grip. The file slipped from her fingers. *Basa basa basa.* Papers scattered across the floor. A4-sized sheets. Dozens of them covered the wooden floor. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry!" 璃子 dropped to her knees. She began gathering the papers. Her hands were shaking. She was completely on edge. A mistake like this wasn't forgiven in front of the boss. That's what she thought. Then 水卜 knelt down too. Right beside her, he began picking up papers the same way. The boss was picking them up himself. It was unprecedented. Normally, he'd leave it to his subordinate. But 水卜 was collecting the papers on his own. Both of them were on their knees on the floor, side by side, gathering papers. The narrow office. The narrow floor. In an instant, the distance between them had closed. 璃子 looked at 水卜's hands. Large hands. Masculine hands. But cleaner than she'd expected. Long fingers. Nails carefully maintained. On his left ring finger, a simple silver ring gleamed. She didn't know when he'd started wearing it. The ring caught the light. In that moment, her heart jumped. *(This is strange. Why is my heart—)* There was no time to think about it. One last sheet of paper remained. Both 璃子's hand and 水卜's hand reached for it at the same time. Their fingertips touched. *Pita.* In that instant, time seemed to stop. No—it did stop. 璃子 looked up without thinking. There was 水卜's face. Too close. Less than thirty centimeters. Face to face. He said nothing. His expression remained blank as he picked up the paper. The contact between their fingertips ended in an instant. "Be careful." His voice was... Just slightly softer than usual. Or so it seemed. 璃子's face was burning hot. "Y-yes. I'm sorry." A faint voice. So small she wasn't sure if 水卜 had even heard it. 水卜 placed the organized papers on his desk. "Use this for tomorrow's presentation. Make sure there are no errors." His instructions remained cold and precise. Had that moment of warmth been an illusion? "Understood." She clutched the file. The thickness of the papers pressed against her chest. She left the office. ——— Back at the office floor. 璃子 sat at her desk. Her heart was still pounding. *(What was that moment?)* She couldn't forget that sensation. Such a short time. Just an instant. Yet the feeling of their fingertips touching lingered. 璃子 stared at her own right hand. Just a hand. Nothing special. But it had touched the boss's hand. She interlaced the fingers of her left hand tightly. An old habit. Something she did when nervous. Afternoon. 璃子 checked the file over and over. No typos. No numerical errors. Perfect layout. Again and again. Not because the work required it. But to keep from thinking about that moment. 10 PM. 璃子 returned to her apartment in Nakameguro. Opening the door, she could see the Meguro River from the balcony. The river flowed quietly through the night. She sank into the sofa and picked up her smartphone. She opened her SNS app. Her account, "@rico_sketch." An account where she posted hobby illustrations. She checked her direct messages. A message had arrived from that anonymous account, "@silent_north_star." *'You worked hard today too. Dropping those papers—how like you. But that's fine. You don't need to be perfect. What matters is how you respond afterward. You handled it well. I'm rooting for tomorrow's presentation.'* 璃子 caught her breath. They knew she'd dropped the papers. Not just that. —Had they been watching that moment? They knew what happened in the boss's office. She interlaced her left hand's fingers tightly. Who was this person? How did they know? Were they in the office? Or— The night wind blew in from the balcony. Gazing at the Meguro River, 璃子 wondered. That warm voice. Its true identity consumed her thoughts.