Hana almost choked on air.
"Fourteen million yen a year?" she repeated.
"Base salary," Kai clarified smoothly, tapping his fingers against the café table. "Plus a premium of five million for being on call 24/7."
Hana stared. Then did some quick, frantic mental math.
That was-that was so much money.
Not billionaire money, but enough to throw her entire budget calculator into a tailspin. Enough to cover Ren's tuition, his obsession with protein powder shakes, a healthy monthly allowance so he wouldn't have to work while in university, and still have more than enough left over to not just survive, but live.
Her mind raced. Rent, groceries, savings-she could even start repaying her parents for all the times they had subtly padded her bank account when she was too proud to ask for help. Maybe a new car?
It was a ridiculous amount of money for a legal secretary. She'd worked at a handful of firms before, and even the biggest ones barely paid half that.
Which meant there had to be a catch.
She narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch?"
Kai smiled. That easy, effortless, trust-me kind of smile that made con men and politicians so damn successful.
"No catch," he said lightly. "Except you'll need to sign an NDA."
Hana exhaled sharply through her nose. Oh, that was suspicious.
She'd worked in law firms long enough to know that NDAs were standard practice for high-profile clients, but this? This felt different.
"Why?" she asked. "Who am I working for? The Yakuza?"
Kai's eyes gleamed with amusement. "No comment."
Hana scowled. "That is not reassuring."
Kai laughed, leaning back in his seat. "You're quick. I like that."
Hana rolled her eyes. "Flattery doesn't answer my question."
"It's a high-pressure job", Kai admitted, tilting his head slightly as if assessing how much to reveal.
"Demanding boss, long hours, and you'll be expected to be on-call at all times. We need someone fast, meticulous, and unflappable."
Hana exhaled. She could do long hours. She could do demanding. Hell, unflappable might as well be her middle name. But something about the way Kai phrased it made her hesitate.
What the hell was she getting herself into?
But then again-she didn't have a job. The legal job market was garbage, and her last firm had tossed her out like an old coffee filter. If she didn't take this, she'd actually have to consider moving back home and helping with the brewery, which meant waking up at five in the morning to wash barrels and explain to tourists that no, sake wasn't "just rice wine."
So really, what was the worst that could happen?
...No. Wait. That was a dangerous question.
Hana sighed, already regretting this. She could say no. Walk away. Find something safer, something normal. But then she'd be back at square one, calculating rent and wondering if she could stretch her savings another month.
"Okay," she muttered, already regretting this. "I'll take it."
Kai grinned like a man who had just won a bet. He extended his hand across the table.
"Welcome to Hasegawa and Sato Law."
Hana shook it, her grip firm. Fine. Let's do this.
-----
Osu, Nagoya
Hana maneuvered her beat-up Honda scooter into its usual spot, giving it a half-hearted pat like a loyal warhorse. It had seen better days. The left mirror was holding on by sheer willpower and strategically applied duct tape, and the engine sounded like an asthmatic chain-smoker on cold mornings.
She climbed the stairs two at a time, fishing her keys out of her pocket, and let herself into their apartment.
The place was unnervingly clean.
The open-plan living room and kitchen stretched out in front of her, bathed in the soft glow of warm lighting, the minimalist furniture neatly arranged. Muted pastels, light wood, soft textures. A vision of Pinterest perfection.
Hana kicked off her boots in the genkan, barely making sure they landed upright.
"Tadaima!" she called.
"Okaeri," Yuna's voice floated from the kitchen, where she was stirring something that smelled suspiciously comforting. "How was the date?"
"Terrible," Hana announced, stepping further in and shrugging off her coat. She draped it over the back of a chair because hanging things properly was a future Hana problem.
"But," she added, "something else happened."
Yuna turned off the stove, her oversized sweater slipping slightly off one shoulder. She was bright-eyed, too energetic for the time of day, and probably running on pure adrenaline and spite.
Hana sometimes wondered if she was secretly powered by a sugar rush that never ended. Everything about her-from the pastel streaks in her hair to the sparkly nail art that changed every three days-radiated relentless optimism.
Hana had long accepted that Yuna existed in a state of perpetual enthusiasm.
"Oh?" Yuna prompted, practically vibrating with curiosity. "Spill."
So Hana did.
She narrated the disaster date with colorful embellishments, pausing only to stab a fork into Yuna's cooking. (Delicious. Annoyingly so.)
Then she got to the real story-how Kai Sato had called, how he'd shown up at Café Aria, how the impromptu interview had gone down like some weird legal thriller meet-cute.
"And so," she finished, stretching dramatically, "as of tomorrow, I am employed again."
Yuna was already pulling out her phone. "What's the company?"
"Hasegawa and Sato Law. Some M&A firm. I've heard of them, but never cared enough to look it up."
Yuna hummed, fingers moving fast. "Okay, okay, let's see..." She skimmed the about section, reading aloud. "Established five years ago by Kai Sato and Katsuki Hasegawa. Lean. M&A, Litigation, and International Business Law. So, Kai Sato is the managing partner and..."
She trailed off. Paused.
Hana arched a brow. "What?"
Yuna turned her phone around, jabbing at the screen. "You met this?!"
Hana looked at the photo. She shrugged. "Yeah?"
Yuna grabbed her wrist like she had just been personally victimized.
"Do you think he's single?"
Hana exhaled through her nose. "Yuna, no."
"Why?" Yuna demanded. "You like him?"
"No, and I don't like him for you."
"Why not?"
"The man is a walking red flag."
Yuna huffed, unbothered. "I like red flags."
Hana pinched the bridge of her nose. There was no winning.
"Anyway," Yuna continued, scrolling, "so Sato will be your boss?"
Hana flopped backward onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. "I don't think so. His questions were oddly specific. Like I'd be dealing with a volatile monster. And Kai doesn't give off volatile vibes."
Yuna hummed thoughtfully, clicking further. "So your boss might be Hasegawa."
"I assume," Hana said, stretching her arms over her head.
Silence.
Then-
"Holy shit."
Hana leaned back as the phone was shoved directly into her face.
She groaned, pushing it back just far enough to focus. The first thing she noticed was that he looked expensive. Sharp features, crisp suit, broad-shouldered and built like he actually used his gym membership. No smiles, no warmth-just a cold, calculating stare that looked like it could dismantle someone in under ten seconds.
She frowned. "Okay. Another red flag. So what?"
But she didn't look away immediately. Something about his stare felt unnerving-not aggressive, not angry, just... like he knew things. Like he'd already sized her up and decided exactly how to dismantle her.
Yuna gaped at her. Gaped.
"You are so lucky."
Hana made a face.
"I take dibs on Sato," Yuna added decisively.
Hana snorted. "You're hopeless."