The Kumaumi building rose tall in the heart of the city's cultural district—a modern architectural marvel, its three glass façades reflecting the early morning sunlight in a dazzling brilliance. The emblem of a paper bird soaring across a trail of ink stood boldly on the front, capturing the free-spirited soul of the publishing world. The revolving door gave way to a spacious lobby paved with pale gray stone, polished to a mirror shine. Footsteps echoed like the steady heartbeat of a world in perfect rhythm.

Inside, the front desk stood modestly to the side. A few bookshelves displayed the company's latest titles, while soft pastel posters hung gracefully on the walls—most of them covers of teen novels.

After signing the paperwork and collecting his staff card, Sea was guided down the fourth-floor hallway by a quick-footed woman with short hair. Her name was Mie—assistant to the editorial department. Her voice was fast and casual, but her eyes were sharp, just like any editor working in this building.

She took Sea to the eighth floor—the home of the Girls' Fiction Division.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Sea inhaled deeply. Both hands clutched the straps of his bag. His heart had been racing ever since he'd entered the dazzling glass building known as Kumaumi. Every step felt like walking on the surface of shimmering water—beautiful and delicate, but fragile enough to shatter with one wrong move.

On the way up, he couldn't stop imagining it—a coincidental reunion, a gentle smile like a breeze, or at the very least, a warm look. Just like that day in the school infirmary, when Jimmy had handed him a glass of water in that deep, stern, yet somehow tender voice.

He imagined Jimmy recognizing him, softly surprised, saying, "It's you?" And from there, the warmth would return. The distance would close. Like a star descending, little by little, to touch the surface of the sea.

Mie gave him a brief office tour, pointed at a desk and said, "Someone from the department will guide you later. The division head is still in a meeting. I'll introduce you when he comes out. For now, this is your desk."

It was a simple white table pushed against the wall—nothing fancy. On it sat a computer, an empty tray for stationery, and a white ceramic mug printed with the Kumaumi logo. One corner was left open, separated by a small frosted divider—clearly meant for personal items.

Sea gently set his bag on the chair and ran his fingers over the cool surface of the desk. It still smelled of fresh wood.

He took a shallow breath, as if trying to blend in with this new atmosphere—serious, pristine, and... unfamiliar.

He looked up.

Across from his desk was a space sealed off by black-trimmed frosted glass. Gray curtains fell from ceiling to floor, completely concealing the interior. There was no nameplate. No sign of who the room belonged to. Yet something about it told Sea—it was important.

He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast. It felt like instinct—telling him the person he'd been waiting for... was just behind that wall of glass.

He wasn't sure. Friends had hinted. His own hopes had whispered. But he didn't dare let himself expect too much. What if it wasn't him? He had prepared himself, or so he thought, but the nervous flutter wouldn't leave.

And he was right.

The soft hiss of the glass door sliding open. The curtains swayed faintly in the breeze from the air conditioner. A man stepped out, holding a stack of papers in slight disarray. The light from inside cast his figure in sharp relief—white shirt hugging a tall, lean frame, sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing a wristwatch with a black strap. His eyes were colder and deeper than Sea remembered. No trace of softness.

It was Jimmy.

Sea wasn't surprised.

But his heart—once again—skipped a beat.

Jimmy didn't notice him right away.

He handed the manuscript to Mie, voice low and clipped, slicing through the quiet:

"Mie, push the meeting with Team A to tomorrow afternoon. The draft's not ready."

"Yes, I'll let them know," she replied briskly, accepting the papers without even glancing at them—clearly used to this pace.

Jimmy turned to someone behind him—a young man in a pale blue shirt, shoulders slightly hunched as if he'd just been scolded. That was Tek—a new editor, a few years younger than Jimmy, officially hired just three months ago.

Tek was visibly more awkward. His eyes always seemed uncertain under pressure, and his voice barely rose above a whisper—especially when Jimmy was around.

Jimmy didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. His gaze alone made the room feel colder.

"Tek, how many times have I told you? Before you bring me a manuscript, check the grammar, the tone, and even the typos. This is the third time you've made these basic mistakes. One more, and you'll be writing a formal explanation."

Tek lowered his head, mumbling, "I'm sorry, Phi..." but Jimmy had already turned away.

Sea stood silently, watching everything unfold. He didn't know what Tek had done wrong, but one thing was clear—the man before him was no longer the warm light he had quietly admired for three years.

That star... was colder now. Sharper. No longer a soft glow lighting the path, but a searing brilliance you could only endure by staring straight at it with strength—or be burned.

Mie's soft voice snapped Sea out of his thoughts. "That's your future supervisor... I'll get going before the fire spreads to me." Then she slipped away quickly.

Sea managed a stiff smile.

This reunion was nothing like the scenes he'd played out in his head over the years.

Jimmy didn't say another word to Tek, just gave a brief glance that ended the conversation. Tek retreated to the desk next to Sea's with a deflated shuffle.

Then Jimmy turned.

His gaze swept casually across the room and landed on Sea—who had been frozen at his desk this whole time, barely breathing, like even a sigh might crush the heavy air.

That gaze paused for a second.

No flicker of recognition. No trace of memory in those eyes.

"You're the new intern?" Jimmy asked.

Sea stood quickly and nodded. "Yes. I'm Sea. The new intern for the Teen Novel Division."

Jimmy's eyes gave nothing away. His tone remained flat. "Come with me."

Sea faltered for a heartbeat. He hadn't imagined their first meeting after three years would take place like this—in this space, under these circumstances. But he followed, each step closing the gap between him and a world he had only watched from afar.

The office behind the glass was modest in size, styled with minimalist precision. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined with published works, a spotless desk with neatly stacked papers, and a small green potted plant in the corner. No personal trinkets. No warmth. Just a space made for focus—and nothing else.

Jimmy took a seat and flipped through a few papers before glancing up.

"What was your major?"

Sea hesitated, then answered truthfully, "I majored in Communications."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips—as if he'd expected it. "Then you'll have to work harder than most."

Sea stiffened, lips pressed tight.

Jimmy stood, walked to the back shelf, scanned the spines quickly, and pulled down ten books—neatly stacked and bound. The titles were unfamiliar, their covers bursting with pink and pastel hues, soft typography dancing across them—this world was entirely foreign to him.

Jimmy placed the stack in front of him.

"Ten teen novels, all published in the past six months. Read them all. In two days, I want a report on each—summary, personal impressions, and an analysis of the author's writing style."

Sea looked at the books, startled.

Jimmy didn't give him time to process. He caught Sea's expression and added, completely unfazed:

"If you can't manage that, I suggest you look for a job better suited to your major. No point wasting your time—or mine."

No encouragement. No kind smile. But somehow, Sea felt... this was familiar.

Just like that first time—when he'd fainted, opened his eyes, and seen that same gaze. Not gentle. But grounding. Not pitying. But strong enough to make him want to try.

Sea bowed his head, wrapped his arms around the stack of books. "Got it. I'll do my best to meet the deadline."

Jimmy didn't respond, just gave a small nod and motioned him out. Then he turned his attention back to the screen in front of him.

Sea stepped out of the office—stunned, breathless, but in his eyes... a spark had lit.

A flicker of something clear and fierce:

Determination.

The little fish had officially swum into the waters ruled by the star.