The warm afternoon sunlight spilled through the towering windows of Aoyama High second-floor corridor, leaving golden stripes on the slick linoleum. Students loitered at their lockers, their laughing reverberating against beige walls adorned with cheery club recruitment posters. But as soon as Sayaka Umusume appeared, her shoulder-length jet-black hair swinging slightly and her dark brows furrowed into a melancholy scowl, conversations fell into whispers, as if a sudden eclipse had obscured the sun.
A girl near the stairwell whimpered, clutching her books tighter, "Oh my god, it's Umusume-san…"
"She looks like she's plotting our deaths," her buddy muttered, almost ducking behind her. "Didn't you hear she once beat up three seniors because they stepped on her shoe?"
'That was only a rumor! Right?!"
They scurried away like startled mice. Meanwhile, Sayaka just sighed, unconcerned at the scandalized trail of students running out of her way like she was a wolf among bunnies.
Well, it's me Alright… Umusume Sayaka, 16-year-old, a second-year student from Aoyama High doesn't have a club… a boyfriend… or even a friend. That's my life. Well, after being treated like this for a time. I guess it have its perk, don't you think?
In reality, Sayaka's thoughts were far from teenage feuds or manufactured rumors. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had missed breakfast yet again, and all she could think of was the cafeteria's limited daily curry buns. Unfortunately, her face carried a look of intense concentration, brows furrowed, mouth set in a grim line—that rivaled the stare of a seasoned mob boss.
"I hope they haven't sold out yet…" she whispered under her breath, pushing her hand on her flat stomach.
When she whispered, two passing boys almost tumbled over themselves.
"D-Did you hear that? What does she mean when she says, 'I hope they haven't sold out yet...? What item was sold out of? Is she planning to force-feed the guy who bought the food she was supposed to eat yesterday?"
"She's terrifying," the other cried.
Sayaka blinked. They dashed down the corridor before she could inquire whether she had anything on her outfit. With a dejected shrug, she moved on, unintentionally leaving a trail of overblown horror stories behind her.
The old female vendor whimpered and muttered shakily, trying to greet her.
"Oh no, she's looking at me…. Is it because I sold her favorite food to another student…"
Sayaka looked at the hotdog packed on the trays as she smiled happily but turns out her actual expression was giving something more sinister, making the lady fear her more.
Even during her graduation ceremony, all of the teachers was nervous and thankful at the same time, especially when they shook hands with Sayaka as she gets her diploma. It was certainly, the feeling as if you're letting a wild bear back to its habitat.
Six years later…
Sayaka sat on the high-backed leather chair of Kimoto Global's modern glass conference room, sweat collecting on the small of her back. Her hands were so tightly clenched on her knees that her knuckles became white. Inside, she was a nervous wreck, her mind shouting "Don't make a mistake, don't scowl, keep your face gentle!" After being called by the man for the next applicant. Naturally, her face was gripped in a more severe expression of strained concentration.
Across from her, Mr. Toru Shibata fixed his tie so many times that it seemed miraculous that it didn't unravel entirely. His hands shook slightly as he shuffled his papers, casting fearful glances at Sayaka's tight posture and piercing gaze.
"So… Miss Umusume…" His voice cracked awkwardly. "What drew you to our company?"
Sayaka's heart pounded against her ribcage. Her mouth opened and then closed again. She tried desperately to relax her face. The end result was a tense twitch of her lips that appeared to be concealing a violent threat. Her dark eyes locked unwaveringly on his face.
Inside her thoughts, she mumbled,
"Oh, God, relax your eyes! Relax your mouth! You look like a psychopath. Just be normal!"
She forced herself to nod gently. Too slow. Like a predator surveying its prey.
"I…ah… Her voice cracked. I really admire… your mission statement.
Shibata paled. "O-our mission statement?"
She nodded again, grasping the chair's arms. She was scared that she would start fidgeting. Instead, she attempted to sit perfectly motionless.
"Yes, she answered. Your focus on… growth… and teamwork."
Her fingers beat on the leather armrest, a slight nervous twitch she didn't notice but that Shibata mistook for the silent drumming of claws. His gaze widened, moving to her stiff shoulders and death grip on the chair.
"Dear Lord, is she threatening me if I don't hire her?" He thought, sweat dripping down his collar.
Sayaka cleared her throat. The stillness stretched, so she uncomfortably attempted to fill it. "I also… um… look forward to… building relationships here."
She nodded again. Even more robotic. Her eyes were wide with panic. She tried hard not to blink too much. Her inner thoughts were a trainwreck.
"Did I just sound weird?" Oh my god, did I sound desperate? Stop looking at him as if you were plotting a heist."
Shibata swallowed audibly. "R-relationships. Absolutely. "That is... very healthy." Inside his mind, his thought rumbled. Is she planning to use him as a stepping stone, is she marking her territory hear already, so no one will mess her even the chiefs of various departments?
Her foot began to bounce—an unthinking jiggle of her ankle—and his gaze swung down in alarm, mistaking it for a menacing twitch of impatience.
She realized too late and gripped her leg still, sitting rigidly with the dark, brooding stare that was her default when scared.
The poor man's hands trembled as he took up her resumé. "Well, Miss Umusume, your… qualifications are quite impressive, and your… zeal is clearly… strong."
Sayaka lit up internally—finally, a pleasant note! So, she attempted to grin. Her cheeks twitch. It was the grin of someone who'd been trained by serial killers. Shibata flinched violently, nearly stabbing himself with his pen. "F… F…. She's angry oh my god!"
She tried everything she could to appear "calm and pleasant"—folding her hands neatly on. her lap, relaxing her shoulders, and lowering her voice. But with each passing second, her worried imagination twisted itself into crueler knots. Her attempts at delicate eye contact quickly turned into an intense, unblinking stare; her lips quivered with nervousness, forming a grim line that appeared more threatening than courteous. Shibata's hands were noticeably trembling when the interview ended. Papers rustled in his grip, like scared birds.
"W-well, Miss Umusume," he stammered, adopting a fake smile that was painfully plastered on, "thank you very much for your time today. We will call you… uhm… if you are… selected."
"Phew…. I hope I dodge the bullet." The interviewer said in his mind.
Sayaka's heart gave a tired thud. She knew the script by heart now. But she stood there, bending deeply—far too deeply—with her dark hair sweeping forward like a melancholy veil. "Thank you… so much for this opportunity."
When she rose again, she couldn't keep her gaze from meeting his. Her stare was steady and purposeful; she only wanted to communicate honesty. But when combined with the ghost of a sleepy smile pulling at her lips, it struck Shibata as bone-chilling. In her thoughts:
Another miss. Perhaps the thirty-first time is the charm.
Sayaka's low, polite bow lasted a little too long, like a serious nod from a dark messenger before giving final judgment. Then she swept out of the office, the door closing behind her and her footsteps receding down the spotless hallway.
Mr. Shibata sat motionless for several seconds, his heart thumping in his throat and his eyes wide as saucers. He let out a deep, nervous exhale, putting his clammy palm against his chest. "It's fine, it's over, you're still alive… she's gone…
Finally recovering his composure, he went for his desk's intercom and hit the button with a shaky finger. "Send in the… ah… next applicant, please."
Shibata's throat clicked dryly. His gaze shifted to the locked door Sayaka had just exited, and his mind was quickly filled with awful thoughts. "Did she threaten them? Did she scare them away with that glare? Oh my gosh, what if she did more? "What if they are—"
His thoughts turned to dark, cartoonish images of Sayaka standing outside with that chilling half-smile, casually sending a slew of hopefuls fleeing for their lives.
He grasped the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles became white.
"If I don't hire her, and she went through all that trouble to clear the competition, will I be next?" His breath came out in faint gasps.
What actually happened…
Sayaka Umusume sat in the center of the waiting area, back ramrod straight, legs pinned securely together, and hands clenched in a white-knuckled knot on her lap. She was putting forth an enormous effort.
"Calm down." Just breathe. Smile a little. "Be approachable," she anxiously reminded herself.
But the result was far from gentle. Her lips twitched in what was supposed to be a soft, reassuring grin, but they came out tight and stiff, like a predator baring teeth before pounce. Her black eyes, wide with fear, appeared to bore holes through those around her.
Across from her, a young man in a navy suit caught Sayaka's gaze and nearly dropped his phone. Her brows were furrowed so tightly from exertion that they resembled a furious scowl, and her pupils appeared fixed on him with frightening, quiet malice. Combined with her tiny, rigid forward lean (from attempting to practice "good posture"), it sent a terrifying message:
"If you care so much about taking this position from me… I will personally ensure you regret breathing."
He swallowed hard, his gaze slipping away. The woman next to him observed his worry and made the mistake of gazing at Sayaka herself—who was now frantically chewing her lower lip, attempting to soften her expression, which instead made her appear as if she was suppressing homicidal urges.
The woman whispered to the man, "Um... I think I left my portfolio in my car. I-I will be right back."
He nodded frantically. "Yeah, I agree. I might have left the iron on at home. I should go check..."
Another candidate, sensing the fear in their words, stood up without saying anything and hurried out. Like a chain reaction, practically everyone began packing up in nervous silence, avoiding Sayaka's piercing, oblivious gaze.
Within five awkward minutes, the crowded waiting area had shrunk down to just one person. Sayaka. She blinked and looked around, bewilderment filling her keen features. "Where did everyone go?"
Her stomach sunk. Perhaps the interviews were just faster than she expected. Maybe... no, they couldn't have all been called in already. A bead of sweat slipped down her temple as she fumbled for her phone, trying not to appear strange—unaware that she had already appeared frighteningly unapproachable to everyone else.
Moments later, the receptionist popped her head out. "Um, Miss Umusume? We'll see you now." Sayaka jumped and swiftly up, gripping her purse with deathly fury. Her heart pounded in her ears...
Well—that sums it…
When Sayaka went outside into the blazing afternoon heat, she felt her entire body slump. Her shoulders fell, her hard spine relaxed, and her breath poured out in a long, rattling sigh that seemed to bring all of her nerves from the previous hour with it.
"Thirty interviews," she said under her breath, attempting to shrug it off. It sounded more like a choked wheeze. "Perhaps the thirty-first will finally stick. "Though with my face..."
Her phone vibrated.
[RIKA] Calling.
Sayaka paused just a heartbeat before swiping to accept and placing it on her ear. Rika's bright, playful voice quickly came through.
"Heyyy~ Survived another one?"
Sayaka grimaced. "Barely. It felt... weird. I believe the manager assumed I was going to threaten him if he didn't hire me."
Rika broke out laughing. "With your natural murderous glare? I'm surprised he didn't just hand you his money and ask you not to break his knees."
"Not funny." Sayaka's mouth twitched, maybe in a hesitant grin. "Anyway… he said he'd call if I was selected."
"That's what?" that on the thirtieth? " Who said Rika's voice softened. "Hey. Do not let it get to you. You're amazing, if a little intense looking."
Sayaka moaned. "Thanks for the pep talk."
"That is what best friends are for. Now, go treat yourself to something delicious. I'll meet you for ramen later, okay?"
"…Yeah. "I'd like that."