(Aya's POV)
The alarm rang at 6:30, sharp and cruel.
I wasn't ready. Not for the day, not for the lie, not for the way my life had already twisted in ways I couldn't untangle. But Ren, of course, was already up.
"Rise and shine, Akira," he called from the kitchen, his voice too cheerful for dawn. "First impressions matter. You can't be late on your first day."
My groan was muffled under the blanket. "Five more minutes."
"Nope." He barged in, yanking the blanket off me. "Do you want to be caught before you even start?"
That jolted me upright.
---
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The boy in the reflection still didn't feel real.
The short wig Ren had helped me trim brushed against my jaw. The cap sat snug, covering what might betray me. My hoodie was replaced with a button-up shirt, loose enough to hide my frame. Ren had even given me one of his old ties, though it hung crooked no matter how many times I tried to fix it.
"Not bad," he said, leaning against the doorway, sipping coffee. "You look like a nervous intern. Which, conveniently, is exactly what you are."
"I look like I stole someone's clothes," I muttered.
Ren grinned. "That's also a classic intern look. You'll blend right in."
My stomach twisted. "I can't do this."
"You can." His voice softened. "Aya, remember—it's just four months. Salary comes, you move out, you start fresh. This is just a bridge, not forever."
A bridge. A fragile one, made of thin planks over a deep canyon. One wrong step, and—
I shook the thought away.
---
The company building loomed taller than I'd imagined. Glass windows gleamed in the morning sun, reflecting the sky like a wall of mirrors. My palms were already sweaty when I pushed the door open.
"Good morning!" The receptionist's voice was bright, professional. She didn't even blink when I said, in my carefully lowered voice, "I'm Akira Sato. New intern."
Her smile never wavered. "Welcome, Mr. Sato. Please head to the 8th floor for orientation."
She called me Mr. Sato. Just like that. No suspicion, no hesitation.
Maybe Ren was right. Maybe this disguise could work.
---
The orientation room was filled with fresh-faced interns, all nervously clutching folders or tapping on their phones. I slid into a seat at the edge, hoping to vanish into the background.
I wasn't the only one pretending confidence. A girl with glasses kept adjusting her papers as if they might attack her. Two boys whispered furiously about dress codes. The air buzzed with nerves.
When the supervisor walked in, silence fell like a hammer.
"Welcome, everyone," he said briskly. "I'm Mr. Takahashi, head of HR. For the next four months, you'll be part of this company. Work hard, learn quickly, and maybe—just maybe—you'll find a permanent place here."
His gaze swept the room like a blade. I shrank in my seat.
"You'll each be assigned to different departments. Consider this your trial. Today, you'll shadow senior employees. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
A trial. My entire life was starting to feel like one.
---
My assigned department: Marketing.
The office buzzed with phones ringing, keyboards clacking, papers shuffling. People moved briskly, eyes sharp and voices confident. I clutched my orientation folder like a shield.
"This way," said a senior employee, barely glancing at me. She pointed toward a desk. "You'll shadow Mr. Hayato today. He'll guide you."
And that's when I saw him.
Tall. Sharp suit. Black hair that caught the light like polished obsidian. His expression unreadable, like a wall of stone carved into a man. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't need to. The entire space seemed to shift around his presence.
Mr. Hayato.
My breath caught.
He looked up, his dark eyes locking on me. For a split second, I thought he saw through me—the wig, the lowered voice, the lie.
But then he simply said, "You're the new intern? Akira, right?"
I nodded, forcing my voice steady. "Y-Yes, sir."
"Follow me."
---
The day passed in a blur.
He worked quickly, methodically, explaining just enough for me to keep up. I scribbled notes furiously, pretending I understood half the terms he threw around.
But the strangest part wasn't the work. It was him.
Mr. Hayato didn't talk much, but when he did, his voice was calm, smooth, confident. He didn't waste words, didn't bother with small talk. Yet somehow, his silence wasn't cruel. It was… deliberate.
Like he saw things no one else did.
And every time his eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing, my heart slammed against my ribs.
Does he know?
No. He couldn't.
Could he?
---
By lunch break, my nerves were frayed. I escaped to the company cafeteria, collapsing into a corner seat with a tray of curry rice. My appetite was gone, but I forced down a bite anyway.
That's when it happened.
"Mind if I sit?"
I looked up—and nearly dropped my spoon.
It was him. Mr. Hayato. Tray in hand, gaze unreadable.
Why me? There were dozens of empty tables.
"Of course," I managed, trying to sound casual. My voice nearly cracked.
He sat across from me, eating in silence for a few minutes. I tried to focus on my food, but every clink of his spoon felt louder than thunder.
Then, out of nowhere, he said:
"You're different."
I froze. "D-Different?"
His eyes met mine, sharp as glass. "The others. They chatter. Pretend to know more than they do. You don't. You watch. Quiet. Careful."
My hands tightened around the spoon. Did he mean that kind of different? Or just—
I forced a laugh, lowering my voice. "I guess I'm just shy."
He studied me for another long moment, then nodded. "Shy can be useful. Shy people notice things others miss."
I swallowed hard, heat prickling my skin. He wasn't accusing. He was… complimenting me?
But my chest tightened anyway. Because in that moment, I realized something dangerous.
If he looked too closely—too long—he'd notice more than I wanted him to.
---
When the day finally ended, I nearly collapsed with relief.
Ren was waiting at the apartment, sprawled on the couch with snacks. "So? How was day one?"
I dropped my bag with a thud. "Ren. I met him."
"Met who?"
"The man. The one who's going to ruin everything. I just know it."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Already? It's day one."
I sank into the couch, covering my face with my hands. "Ren, he's… sharp. He notices everything. If anyone's going to figure me out, it'll be him."
For once, Ren didn't joke. He looked thoughtful. "Then you'll just have to be sharper. Don't panic. Don't slip. Aya, you've survived worse."
I wished I could believe him. But all I could see, burned into my mind, was Mr. Hayato's eyes.
Eyes that had already seen too much.
---