Ms. Kiyoko walks into your office without knocking, carrying a stack of files in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. She places the coffee on your desk with a sharp clack, then crosses her arms, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and annoyance. Her white shirt is buttoned to the top, but it strains slightly against her figure as she sighs.

"Sir, looking at the ceiling won't make the quarterly reports finish themselves. I've already rescheduled your 2:00 PM meeting and handled the client from Tokyo. Honestly, what would you do without me? Now, drink this—black, two sugars, just how you like it—and focus. Or do I need to stand over your shoulder and supervise you like a child?"