Tokyo's Phantom Thief

To Asakura Rinto, Togawa Sakiko seemed like a model student.

She was young.

According to the résumé she handed in, she was fifteen—same age as the Yoshizawa sisters.

Which meant she was just starting high school this year... technically still a middle schooler for now.

High schoolers getting part-time jobs? Totally normal.

But middle schoolers working part-time? For some reason, that always came off as shady. Funny how language works.

"I'll start by showing you how to use the company's time clock system. Do you know how to use a computer?"

"Y-Yes. I've memorized all the basic operations."

The fifteen-year-old—just above JC (junior high schooler), not quite JK (high school girl)—clenched her fists slightly, face taut with nervous energy.

Rinto had Sakiko sit down at her workstation, fitted her with a headset and mic, and guided her through the system.

The customer service cubicles were cramped.

A long table divided into tiny stalls by partitions—creating a noisy, isolated little world. Surrounded by coworkers, yet with no conversations or even eye contact.

It was a solo job. And that loneliness came with pressure.

Her fair, delicate fingers moved the mouse according to Rinto's instructions.

During that time, he quietly observed her.

Her hair was a soft, light shade with gentle natural waves. She had two thin braids—one over each shoulder—tied off with satin ribbons. Not a single strand was out of place.

The kind of hairstyle that required patience and care. A real ojou-sama vibe.

Still, she didn't seem like one of those super trendy girls who spent hours on makeup.

There was no perfume. Her makeup was light.

The concealer was a bit overapplied though—a sign she wasn't used to getting dolled up. Probably overcompensating from nerves or the pressure to present herself well.

Given how she immediately asked to work on the foreign-language customer service team, she was either a confident returnee or genuinely top-tier academically.

But something about her felt like she was trying too hard.

Her shoulders were stiff the whole time.

Her posture was elegant and straight, yes—but overly so. Like she was bracing against invisible gravity.

It reminded Rinto of a lead singer going onstage for their first live performance.

Weird analogy, but whatever.

It was one of his bad habits—analyzing people the moment he met them.

Still, he knew it wasn't polite, so he pulled himself back to focus.

"Once you click 'Clock In' on the system, the timer starts, and incoming calls will be routed to you. Ideally, you need to answer within three rings—can't keep the customer waiting."

"We're measured by call duration too. The faster you resolve the issue, the better—but not at the cost of a complaint. I'll teach you the pacing tricks during real calls."

"You also get a brief reset window after each call, but if it drags out, that's counted as a miss. If you need to step away—bathroom, drinks, anything—click 'Break' in the system. Be sure to return on time. Leaving your post without notice is a serious violation and could cost you."

"Still following me?"

"Yes! Absolutely!"

Sakiko nodded firmly, amber eyes locked on the screen, not even glancing at Rinto's face.

It was kind of cute.

From Rinto's side, her pale little face looked like a porcelain doll's. The way she pursed her lips made him want to poke her cheek.

But her nerves made him feel like he was the one doing something wrong.

He sat down at the adjacent cubicle, put on his own headset, and said in a warm tone:

"I'll link your system to mine now. You'll be able to hear my calls. Just listen for now and see how I respond to different customers. Ask questions any time. Relax, okay? This is way easier than a top high school entrance interview. You've got this."

"...Thank you, Asakura-senpai."

Togawa Sakiko blinked, picking up on the reassurance in his tone.

She gave him a small, slightly stiff smile—finally showing a flicker of the youth that matched her age.

By the time their lunch break rolled around, Rinto had spent most of the morning demonstrating live call handling.

Since international calls were automatically routed to him, he often spoke in foreign languages—Sakiko had to listen closely and focus hard.

The more she listened, the more amazed she looked.

"Asakura-senpai, you're incredible...! Not just English—you even switch to the caller's native language as soon as you recognize their accent? That's unbelievably professional! Just how many languages do you know? You're a genius! A literal stockings-dropper!"

Stockings... dropper?

Rinto nearly laughed. That last part was clearly some ojou-sama dialect slipup.

"Not that amazing. I just happen to know them. It's a soft-skills trick—builds trust with the customer. Honestly, for this job, just English is enough."

Tokyo had plenty of foreigners.

Most of the ones calling in spoke at least some Japanese or English, so being fluent in both was more than enough.

In Rinto's case, he'd listen for hints in the customer's speech and then switch to their native tongue.

That alone often made callers light up with surprise—even the angry ones softened. A touch of "met a kindred spirit far from home."

So no, it wasn't magic. Just smooth handling to keep things efficient.

But even after that explanation, Sakiko's eyes sparkled even more.

"That's true professionalism! Meeting both the emotional needs of the customer and meeting the company's targets... That's what it means to be a real adult! I've learned so much. From now on, I'll follow your example and hone my own skills!"

Okay, way too formal. Her etiquette was absolutely off the charts.

Rinto quickly stopped her from bowing—before the nearby coworkers got the wrong idea and thought he was using his senior status to charm some underclassman.

He carefully patted Sakiko on the shoulder—making sure not to touch even a millimeter of the bare skin showing from her sleeves.

Then changed the subject, fast:

"It's about lunchtime. Let's pause here. What do you want to eat? I'll treat—consider it a senpai's welcome gift."