The "Serious Mode" was failing.
For the first time in three years, Sataru sat at his desk and couldn't focus on the fiscal projections. His mind kept looping back to the taste of the melon bread and the way Shino had whispered “Shield Hero” in the elevator.
He looked over the top of his monitor. Shino was currently surrounded by three junior associates from Sales. They were laughing, captivated by her "Office Idol" energy. She was the sun, and everyone else was just a planet caught in her gravity.
Sataru looked down at his keyboard. I'm just a background character, he thought. A guy who calculates the cost of the sun’s rays.
"Asada-kun, the Director wants the Q3 report by five," a voice snapped him back to reality. It was a senior manager, tapping a pen impatiently on Sataru’s desk. "And since Madsudori-san is handling the client relations for the new account, you two are paired up for the strategy meeting tonight."
Sataru’s heart did a nervous flip. "Tonight? But I—"
"Overtime, Asada. I know you love it," the manager smirked and walked away.
By 7:00 PM, the office had thinned out again. The janitorial staff’s floor buffers hummed in the distance. Sataru and Shino were in the small conference room, surrounded by scattered papers and two laptops.
Shino had abandoned her blazer, her white blouse sleeves rolled up. And, as if on cue with the setting sun, the contacts had come out. The thick, round glasses were back on her nose.
"I can't see these spreadsheets without them after dark," she admitted, rubbing her eyes. "My eyes get so dry. It’s a total 'stat debuff' for my vision."
Sataru paused his typing. "Stat debuff?"
Shino froze, her face turning a bright shade of pink. "Oh! Uh... that’s just... office slang? For being tired?"
Sataru looked at her. Really looked at her. With the glasses on, she didn't look like the untouchable "Golden Girl" anymore. She looked like the girl who used to hide in the school library. She looked like the girl who had cried tears of relief ten years ago when a shy boy stood in front of her at the convention.
"Madsudori-san," Sataru said, his voice unusually soft. "Do you... like stories about heroes?"
Shino’s eyes widened behind her lenses. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. She slowly reached into her bag and pulled out a worn paperback with a familiar shield on the cover. The Rising of the Shield Hero.
"I... I love them," she confessed, her voice losing its "confident" office edge. "People at work think I'm 'perfect' or 'glamorous,' but honestly? I just want to go home, put on my sweats, and read about people who struggle but never give up. I like characters who aren't flashy, but who are always there when it counts."
She looked at Sataru with a sudden, intense gaze. "Like you."
Sataru felt the "pay wall" in his mind tremble. "I'm just working for the money, Shino-san. My mom... the bills... I don't have time to be a hero."
"That's exactly what a hero would say," Shino countered, a playful, stubborn smile returning to her lips.
She leaned across the table, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose. "You know, you're the only one I've told. Everyone else asks me out to fancy dinners or clubs. They want the 'Idol.' But you... you're the only one who actually looks at me when I'm wearing these." She tapped her frames.
Sataru reached out, his hand trembling. For a second, he almost touched her hand, but he pulled back at the last moment, his shyness winning.
"I remember someone like you," he whispered, almost to himself. "A long time ago. At a convention. She lost her glasses in the crowd."
Shino’s breath hitched. She went perfectly still. The air in the conference room suddenly felt very thin.
"Sataru-kun..." she started, her voice trembling. "Did you... did you keep a blue ribbon? The one that fell off her bag that day?"
Sataru’s heart stopped. In his wallet, tucked behind a picture of his mother and father, was a frayed blue ribbon he had picked up from the floor of the convention center ten years ago. He had kept it as a lucky charm—a reminder of the one time he had been brave.
Before he could answer, Shino’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. It was a call from the hospital.
Sataru’s "Serious Mode" snapped back instantly, but this time, it was laced with pure panic. "It’s my mom’s doctor."90Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm7KcQTb22n
and then Add to home screen.