So, here I am. Back in Japan. A country I swore I’d only return to for vacations and sushi binges. Instead, I’m back for what I like to call a “trial period.” A month, tops. That’s the deal. Thirty days of this chaos, and then I’m on the first plane back to California, sipping overpriced lattes on the beach. Right?

I stare at my new apartment. If you can call it that. It’s like IKEA and a shoebox had a baby, and this is where it lives. The walls are bare, there’s a weird smell that I can’t quite place (possibly old tatami?), and I’m pretty sure I saw a cockroach do a victory lap around my suitcase earlier. The apartment Asuka had planned for me isn't ready, so I'm staying here...

And yet... it’s kinda cozy. In a “temporary prison” sort of way.

My phone buzzes, and I know before I even look that it’s Mom. She’s been too excited about this whole Japan thing. Which, given how much she nagged me about moving back to Tokyo for years, feels like a trap.

“Hey, honey! How’s the big move? Settling in?” Her voice is chipper, which is a direct contrast to my “I want to lie down for six years” energy.

“It’s... fine.” I glance at the wall, pretending it isn’t mocking me. “Just remember, it’s only a month. I haven’t decided to stay.”

“Of course, darling. But who knows? You might love it!”

“Uh-huh.” I can practically hear her smug smile. “Well, don’t start knitting me a welcome-back-to-Japan scarf just yet. Thirty days, if I don't like it, I’m out.”

She chuckles in that knowing way that drives me crazy. “We’ll see, Miyu. We’ll see.”

We hang up, and I take one more look at the apartment. It’s temporary. Definitely temporary.

Right?

First Day at the Office

Fast-forward to my first day at Asuka’s office, and I’m suddenly questioning all my life choices. I thought working at a publishing house would be... quieter? Maybe a bit more “sit at a desk, drink coffee, look busy.” Instead, it feels like I’ve walked into a rainbow-colored hurricane.

Manga covers everywhere. Walls covered in posters of anime characters who are either battling demons or falling in love—sometimes both at once. Books stacked so high I’m genuinely concerned someone’s going to get crushed. It’s chaotic, and somehow, exactly what I should’ve expected.

“Miyu! You’re here!” Asuka comes bouncing over like a human embodiment of caffeine. She’s always been this way—tiny, energetic, and so happy it’s like she’s on a permanent sugar rush. “I’m so glad you made it!”

I attempt a smile, but it’s more of a grimace. “Yeah, well... remember, I’m only here for a month. Temporary. Trial run.”

Asuka waves her hand like that’s just a minor technicality. “Sure, sure. But you’ll love it! I mean, how could you not? Look at this place!”

I glance around, taking in the towering stacks of manga and the neon colors assaulting my senses. “It’s... colorful.”

“Exactly! Now, come on, we’ve got work to do.” She grabs me by the arm and practically drags me to her desk. “Okay, so here’s the plan for your trial month. You need to immerse yourself in our world. Get to know our catalog, understand the trends, and most importantly, learn who our audience is.”

“Right,” I say, already feeling the beginnings of a migraine. “How do I do that exactly?”

“Reading! Lots of reading.” Asuka beams as she shoves a stack of books into my arms. The weight of them nearly takes me down. “These are some of our most popular titles. You’ll be reading everything from shonen to shojo, horror to romance, and—of course—BL.”

I nearly drop the books. “Wait... what’s a BL?”

“Boys’ Love.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s one of our biggest genres. The female readers love it.”

I stare at her. “So... it’s about boys? Loving... boys?”

She gives me an exasperated look. “Yes, Miyu. Boys. Loving boys. It’s hugely popular with women.”

I glance down at the stack of manga she’s handed me, the top book featuring two guys gazing at each other like they’re seconds away from a steamy make-out session. “Right. Of course. Boys love. Sure.”

Asuka grins and pats me on the back. “You’ll get used to it. Now, start reading! And tomorrow, we’ll get you into the meetings and virtual classes.”

“Meetings and classes? For what?”

She’s already walking away, leaving me drowning in books. “To learn about the business side! You can’t just read manga all day.”

I blink at her retreating figure. “Isn’t that... literally my job?”

Turns out, I was wrong. Reading is not the fun part of this job.

It’s Day 4, and I’m already losing it. Don’t get me wrong—I like manga. Some of it, anyway. But when you’re forced to read what feels like a thousand different stories, all back-to-back, your brain starts to melt. By the time I hit my fifth shojo romance, I’m seriously considering throwing myself into the nearest river.

And then, I hit BL.

At first, I don’t get it. Two guys falling for each other. Sure, okay. I can see the appeal for some people. But why are women so obsessed with it?

Cut to me, four hours later, with eyes glued to the screen, devouring page after page of this BL series about a forbidden love between two childhood friends. One is a brooding artist, the other a soccer star. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. And I’m totally hooked.

I don’t know how it happened. One minute I’m skimming through it, thinking it’s just another genre. The next, I’m invested in their relationship like it’s my own personal drama. I’ve officially crossed the point of no return.

It’s... addicting.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the screen. “What... just happened?”

My phone buzzes, and I see a message from Asuka: "How’s it going with the reading? ;)"

I type back, "I think I’ve been corrupted."

She responds almost immediately: "Welcome to the club. ;) We have cookies."

On Friday, I have my first virtual meeting with the editorial team. I don’t know how I’m expected to have any coherent thoughts after the amount of manga I’ve consumed this week, but here we are.

The screen lights up with the faces of three editors. They look... intense. Way more serious than I expected for people who spend their days talking about comics.

“So, Miyu, what are your thoughts on the current trends in the manga industry?” one of them asks me. His face is all business, and I immediately regret not drinking more coffee.

“Uh...” I scramble for something intelligent to say. “BL is... boys... loving boys?”

There’s a pause. An awkward, painful pause. The kind that feels like it’s going to stretch on forever.

“Yes,” one of the editors finally says, clearing his throat. “That’s the genre, yes. Very... succinct observation.”

I want to die. This is the worst.

Asuka’s face pops up on the screen, and I can see her trying so hard not to burst out laughing. “Great job, Miyu. Very insightful.”

I glare at her. “I’ll do better next time,” I mumble, already planning to Google “how to sound smart in meetings” later.

By the end of the first week, I’m exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually—all the kinds of tired. I’ve read more manga than I ever thought possible, embarrassed myself in front of the editorial team, and now Asuka’s dropped another bomb on me.

“You’re coming to the industry event next week,” she announces over lunch.

I choke on my drink. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a networking event. You’ll represent our company. You know, meet people, smile, maybe even charm a few clients.”

I blink at her. “You’re joking, right? I’m not ready for that! I’ve barely figured out what BL stands for.”

Asuka grins, clearly enjoying my panic. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

I stare at her. “Myself? You mean the person who just made a fool of herself in front of your entire editorial team?”

“Exactly!” she says, patting me on the back. “You’ll charm them with your awkwardness.”

I glare at her, half-joking. “I’m leaving after this month. You know that, right?”

She just smiles like she knows something I don’t.