Chapter 60: Volume 1, - 59: The Employee Who Could Stop Him
In the small dining kitchen of the Shindo family apartment, the morning light hit the worn laminate counter where Yoko Shindo was packing her lunchbox before her shift at the supermarket deli. Her hands were dry from food preparation and constant washing. She folded a piece of tamagoyaki into a plastic container before glancing across the low table at Nanami, who was checking her calendar notebook.
"You’re working again this afternoon?" Yoko asked.
"Yes. One o’clock to six o’clock," Nanami replied. "Kisaragi-san is finishing his final QuickMart shifts this week. Soon he’ll be working full-time on the business."
Yoko sat down, taking a sip of hot water. She did not look impressed by the phrase full-time.
"And how does that affect your pay?" Yoko asked, her tone pragmatic and guarded. "Does he actually have the money to transfer on time every month?"
"My March pay arrived three days early," Nanami said. "The funds came directly from the business bank account."
"For now," Yoko noted. "Unstable employers start with high spirits and clean payments. Then business gets quiet, and suddenly they ask you to wait. Are your hours fixed?"
"Fifteen hours a week. Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday," Nanami said.
"And when he becomes full-time, does he expect you to work more?" Yoko pressed, her eyes sharp with protective worry. "Does he call after work? Does ’startup’ mean unpaid emergencies? What happens if you disagree with him?"
"He respects my employment contract mom," Nanami said carefully. "And he hasn’t called outside my shift hours ever. But he is ambitious."
"Just make sure his new free time doesn’t become your problem," Yoko said, clearing her cup. "If six o’clock means six, then come home at six. And if you tell him no, I want to know he can hear it."
By twelve-fifty-five, Ren had already covered his desk in notebooks and projections when he heard Nanami unlock the door to Suite 302.
He looked up immediately as she hung up her coat and set down her bag. He was visibly energised, the constant physical weight of his old debt lifted after yesterday’s final clearings.
"Shindo-san, good afternoon," Ren said, turning his notebook toward her as she approached her desk. "Once my last shift at QuickMart ends on the tenth, most of my working week can finally go into KBS. If we shift client onboarding to Wednesday mornings, I can handle the initial interviews, and you can process the source-document checks immediately once your shift starts."
At one o’clock precisely, Nanami sat at her desk and booted up her workstation.
"My shift begins at one o’clock on Wednesdays, Kisaragi-san," Nanami said, adjusting her glasses.
"Right, but if we shift your schedule slightly, or if you take on an extra block on Tuesdays—"
"No," Nanami said clearly.
Ren blinked, his hand pausing over his pen. "No?"
"My agreement is for fifteen hours per week on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday afternoons," Nanami said, her voice remaining perfectly level. "I have family obligations on Tuesdays, and my mornings aren’t part of my availability. Your schedule expanding does not expand mine."
A sharp prickle of irritation flashed across Ren’s chest. He felt the sudden urge to push back. To explain how much momentum they would lose if they didn’t capitalise on his full-time transition. He had just broken free of his own financial chains; he wanted to run, and her refusal felt like an artificial brake.
’We’re building something here,’ he thought, his jaw tightening slightly. ’Does she not see the opportunity?’
He took a slow breath, forcing himself to suppress the defensive reaction. "Shindo-san, I’m not asking you to work for free. We can adjust your pay structure accordingly."
"Your free time isn’t mine, Kisaragi-san," Nanami replied, pulling a folded draft paper from her folder and placing it on his desk. "If my schedule changes every time you get excited about expansion, this stops being a stable job."
Ren picked up the document. It was a drafted addendum to her employment agreement.
"What is this?" he asked.
"An operational boundary addendum," Nanami said. "Before you enter full-time operations, I require explicit terms."
Ren skimmed the short handwritten points:
Hours: 15 hours weekly (Wed, Fri, Sat afternoons). Extra hours require advance written agreement.
Stop-Work Authority: Nanami may pause administrative processing when source records are missing or inconsistent.
Contact Limits: No expectation of work or task assignments outside scheduled shift hours.
Disagreements: Material operational disputes are documented in writing and referred for independent advice if unresolved.
Ren stopped at the second point. "Stop-work authority? If a client is waiting for an operational summary and a receipt is missing, you freeze the work?"
"Yes," Nanami said simply. "If I can’t stop a bad file from going out, there’s no point paying me to check it."
Ren stared at the paper. The irritation inside him slowly began to cool.
He thought of his years at the convenience store. How much he had hated managers who treated someone else’s hours as theirs to rearrange, expanding duties without consent simply because they were in charge.
His freedom from QuickMart could not become Nanami’s loss of structure. If he demanded total flexibility from her just because his own schedule opened up, he was doing the exact same thing.
Ren pulled a pen from his drawer. "Did you consult someone on this wording?"
"I drafted the points from our existing agreement," Nanami said. "Aoi-san can review the wording before we finalise it if necessary."
"The logic is sound," Ren said softly.
He signed his name cleanly at the bottom: Kisaragi Ren, Founder, Kisaragi Business Support.
Nanami took the sheet, signed her own name beneath his as Operations Administrator, and scanned a copy for her records before filing the original in her folder on the shelf.
"Thank you, Kisaragi-san," she said, opening her notebook. "Now, regarding the March ledger entries for Akiyama Bakery, I have completed the preliminary reconciliation."
At 6:00 p.m. precisely, Nanami shut down her workstation, put her pens away, and picked up her bag.
"I am leaving for the day," she said, putting on her coat. "I have dinner to prepare at home."
"Thank you for your work today, Shindo-san," Ren said, standing from his desk. "Have a good evening."
"Good evening, Kisaragi-san."
The door to Suite 302 clicked shut behind her, leaving the office completely quiet.
Ren sat back down and opened the bookmarked Marui Credit Services portal on his phone. He re-entered his credentials and pulled up his account summary page.
Account Ending: 4108 Balance: ¥0 Status: Paid in Full / Closed
He stared at the number for another second. Yesterday’s freedom had survived the night. The account was still closed, and nothing had come back to reclaim him.
He locked his phone and picked up his copy of the signed addendum resting on his desk. He looked at his signature beside Nanami’s.
He had spent months fighting for autonomy, desperate to escape arbitrary demands. He had assumed that freedom meant having total authority over his own time and decisions.
Yet here, in his own office, he had voluntarily signed terms allowing his employee to stop a workflow inside her scope and refuse extra hours he wanted from her.