Date: April 20, 2025

  The universe gave me a break—a whole weekend without drama, no cryptic spoons, no stolen coffee, and no workplace posturing disguised as something else.

  But of course, peace doesn’t last.

  Because now?

  Now I have to spend a week in Japan.

  With Leo and Ethan.

  Saturday Morning: Mother knows best

  A lot of people think my father, the engineer of the family, is why I chose to go into Data Science. But the reality is that my mother is the reason. When it came to solving problems, or reading people, there was no one else I knew who could do it like my mother. If anyone could help me, I figured it would be her.

  My parents’ house smelled like miso soup and freshly steamed rice, a scent so familiar it made my shoulders relax the second I stepped through the door.

  For a moment, I let myself believe life was simple again.

  No work. No coffee theft. No office politics disguised as flirting.

  Just home.

  “Sit,” Mom said, already setting out plates. “You’re late.”

  Mom always kept her hair in a neat, chin-length cut that framed her sharp features, though today, it was slightly unkempt, signaling she hadn’t bothered taming it on her day off.

  She moved with her usual quiet efficiency, pouring tea into my cup without asking. I wrapped my hands around it, inhaling the scent—the same tea I made every day at work to calm my nerves.

  I rolled my eyes as I took a sip. “You said eight. It’s eight-fifteen.”

  I could hear the smile in her voice before I saw it. “And yet, you’re still late.”

  I sighed, taking my seat. “Where’s Dad?”

  She poured herself tea. “Teaching Hiro how to golf.”

  I blinked. “Since when does Hiro golf?”

  Mom shrugged. “Since Hiro’s boss does. And you know your brother—he doesn’t like to lose.”

  I snorted. That was an understatement. Hiro was so allergic to losing that once, when he was seven, he played an entire soccer match with a broken arm just because his team needed one more goal.

  For a few minutes, we ate in comfortable silence—miso soup, grilled fish, tamagoyaki—the kind of breakfast I never made myself because I couldn’t cook, and I had no interest in learning.

  “Mom,” I muttered, poking at my rice. “I have a problem.”

  Mom sipped her tea, completely unbothered, didn’t even look up. “I figured.”

  I choked. “It’s that obvious?”

  She gave me a knowing glance. “What, you think I don’t notice when my daughter is stressed?”

  I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “You’re going to think this is stupid.”

  And then, before I could stop myself, it all tumbled out.

  Leo’s teasing. Ethan’s quiet attentiveness. The stupid seat situation. The coffee incident.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, pushing my rice around with my chopsticks. “Everyone at work must think I’m such a—”

  I stopped. I couldn’t even say it. Joke? Something worse?

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Mom set her cup down. “Asako,” she said, gently.

  I flinched. She only ever called me that when she was being serious.

  “You already know what to do,” she continued.

  I stared at her flatly. That was useless.

  She smiled, like she already had all the answers and was just waiting for me to catch up. I vaguely regretted asking for her help.

  Then, as if changing the subject, she asked, “At work, do they assign you a specific desk?”

  “What?”

  She refilled her tea. “Your seat. Do you have to sit there?”

  I shook my head, confused. “No… I mean, we have flexible seating. I just like my usual spot.”

  “The one between them?”

  I hesitated. “They didn’t used to sit there.”

  Mom nodded, like she had confirmed something. “But they do now.”

  I frowned. Where was she going with this?

  She studied me for a moment, then sighed.

  “Asako,” she said, too patiently, “you made it quite obvious to them that you like them both.”

  I choked on my tea. “Mom!”

  She laughed—the kind of light, lilted laugh that always made my dad glance her way no matter how busy or distracted he was.

  She reached across the table and patted my hand. “If you truly didn’t like being around them, you would sooner set the building on fire than stay there.”

  I opened my mouth to argue.

  And then I hesitated.

  Had I really been so caught up in the awkwardness that I hadn’t noticed how much I’d stopped avoiding them?

  I thought about Ethan’s compliments, Leo’s teasing, the way my heart skipped stupid beats at all the wrong moments.

  I thought about how I had seen them on either side of me—

  And how, instead of moving, I had stayed.

  I groaned, pressing my hands to my face. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to be the laughingstock of the company. It’s going to ruin my career.”

  Mom just rolled her eyes. “That’s melodramatic.”

  I sighed. “Leo and Ethan… they’re being so obvious now. And I don’t know how to handle it.”

  Mom hummed thoughtfully. “You mean they’re competing?”

  I scowled. “I didn’t say that.”

  She gave me a very knowing look.

  I groaned. “Fine. Maybe. Either way, it makes me look stupid.”

  Mom considered this, refilling my tea. “And what do you want?”

  I hesitated.

  Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

  I didn’t know.

  I had spent so much time dodging the situation, pretending it wasn’t happening, that I had never actually stopped to ask myself the question.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Mom nodded, as if that answer didn’t surprise her.

  She tilted her head. “If this were a project at work, how would you handle it?”

  I frowned. “You want me to treat my love life like a data problem?”

  Mom shrugged. “You’re good at solving problems.”

  I opened my mouth to argue—because that’s ridiculous—but then I stopped.

  Okay.

  Maybe she had a point.

  Maybe I’d been too overwhelmed by my emotions to actually take a step back and analyze the situation.

  Mom took another sip of tea, looking entirely unbothered. “You already have everything you need to handle it. You just need to decide what matters.”

  I swallowed.

  Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

  What did matter?

  Mom tilted her head. “Oh, those poor boys. If it makes you feel better, Asako, you likely don’t look stupid. It probably looks like you’re doing it on purpose.”

  “What?! That’s worse!”

  Mom smiled, rose from her seat so that she could throw her arms around me. “You do that, though. When you’re confused, you look even calmer. It’s like your body knows before your brain does—that you already have the answer.”

  She was right. That did make me feel a little better. At least maybe I didn't look as stupid as I felt.

  "It's all right," she breathed into my hair. "The patterns are always harder to see in our own lives. You'll figure it out."

  I let myself melt into her hug, taking in her comforting embrace.

  Later, I finished my breakfast, hugged Mom goodbye, and even as I was leaving the house, my brain was in overdrive.

  Data. I needed more data.

  Monday Morning: The Tokyo Trip Announcement

  Turned out, I was too busy to think about Ethan and Leo anyway. As soon as I wrapped up the sprint with Priya and Omar, Hannah had thrown me into a bug-fix for one of the new products we were due to launch the following week.

  I was halfway through debugging when Hannah called for an all-hands meeting.

  Everyone groaned. Meetings before lunch? Cruel.

  We gathered in the conference room—me, Leo, Ethan, Eric, Samantha, and Hannah.

  Hannah leaned against the whiteboard, looking way too awake for a Monday morning. “Alright, listen up. We’re sending the team to Tokyo first a few weeks for the launch.”

  I sat up immediately. “But I’m still working on the fix.”

  Hannah gave a me a pointed look, and her words hung in the air unspoken. So fix it.

  I sighed deeply and rubbed the back of my neck. Real life was hard.

  The rest of the team, however, was all ready celebrating. Leo grinned. “Hell yeah. Tokyo?”

  Hannah nodded. “Yeah. It’s a tight turnaround, but the client wants in-person collaboration. You’ll be working directly with them, so expect long days.”

  I glanced at Samantha. She looked excited.

  Eric, had for once, lowered the headphones I thought was permanently glued over his ears. He let out a dramatic sigh. “Great. Another week of bad sleep in a different timezone.”

  Leo chuckled. “Bro, it’s Japan. You’re gonna be eating good.”

  Eric squinted. Eric was the quietest in our team. Basically all muscle and engineering, but we all knew the one thing he really cared about was food. “That’s true. Okay, I’m in.”

  I turned to Hannah, the tiniest flicker of excitement building. “Are we all going?”

  Hannah glanced at the itinerary. “Yes. Me, you, Leo, Ethan, Eric, and Samantha.”

  I nodded. Seemed reasonable.Then my brain caught up.

  Me.

  Leo.

  Ethan.

  Together, in a different country.

  I felt immediate regret.

  Leo, however, looked thrilled. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

  Ethan, arms crossed, completely unreadable, just said, “Sure.”

  I vaguely wondered if my brother needed a golf partner.

  End of Day Reflections

  There are none. Nobody talk to me.