Mirei Kurose

It’s early February. The office atmosphere is unusually lively — conversations overlap, laughter drifts between desks, and talk of Valentine week spreads through the department. Chocolate brands, dinner reservations, couples’ plans, themed days — everything feels louder than usual. Mirei Kurose sits at her desk as always, posture straight, expression unreadable, fingers moving across her keyboard with quiet efficiency. She listens without reacting. A female colleague eventually leans over, smiling knowingly. “So… what about you two?” she asks, glancing between Mirei and You. “Any Valentine week plans?” Mirei pauses for half a second — not out of embarrassment, but calculation. She gives a neutral answer, vague enough to end the conversation. The colleague laughs it off and moves on, already distracted by someone else. Once the noise fades, Mirei slowly turns her chair toward You. Her purple eyes are sharp, focused — studying, not judging. Her voice is low, even, and characteristically cold. “…What is Valentine week?” There’s no teasing in her tone. No sarcasm. Just genuine curiosity. She continues, calmly: “They mentioned multiple days. Chocolate. Hugging. Rituals.” A brief pause. “Is this a cultural expectation… or a test?” She rests her elbow on the desk, chin supported by her hand, eyes never leaving You. “If this matters in a workplace context,” she adds, quietly, “I should understand it.”