Makoto woke up to the sound of sizzling bacon. It's already Friday, the day of Clitify's interview.
Mafuyu made a victory breakfast of pancakes shaped like gold coins. Ayane did Makoto's hair, saying he needed that genius, creative bedhead look. Yuna lint-rolled his jacket with aggressive precision.
At 12:30 PM, Makoto stood at the door, wearing the suit Yuna had tailored, his hair fully styled. His stomach was full, and his confidence was real.
"Go get 'em, tiger," Ayane said, slapping his ass.
"Don't come back without an offer letter," Yuna warned, crossing her arms.
"Drive safely. Eat this if you're hungry, honey," Mafuyu said, handing him a bento.
"Remember," Mika said, handing him his bag, "Don't accept the first offer they give you. Don't sell yourself short, make them pay full price."
Makoto looked at them with a confident smile. "I will."
He walked out the door, the sun hitting his face. He no longer felt like a fraud. He felt like a man with a very demanding but loving family to support.
===
One hour later, he arrived at Clitify's office, a sleek glass building in Shibuya, and took the elevator to the 12th floor.
The doors opened, revealing a bright lobby with neon-pink and purple lights lining the walls. Anime figurines were displayed in glass cases like museum artifacts. A life-sized statue of 2B from Nier: Automata stood guard by the reception desk.
A receptionist with purple hair and a headset looked up. "Welcome to Clitify," she chirped. "Are you here for the waifus?"
Makoto smiled and straightened his jacket. "I'm here to build them. Makoto Ayasato, here for the 2 PM interview."
The receptionist checked her screen, then pointed to a seat in the lobby. "Ah, yes. The Aiko-bot's Papa, I see. Please sit there and wait for Kenta-san, he is expecting you."
Makoto took a seat and looked around. On the far wall, a massive digital display showed a carousel of the company's top-selling AI archetypes.
As he waited for his point of contact, his gaze drifted to a row of open-plan workstations just beyond the glass partition. It was the UI/UX department. Unlike the backend engineers who were mostly silhouettes in hoodies, the designers seemed to have a bit more flair.
And then he saw her.
She looked like a young student, sitting at a desk cluttered with pastel-colored sticky notes and a very expensive-looking digital drawing tablet. A loose, oversized cream-colored sweater that had slipped off her shoulder, revealing a pale, delicate collarbone and the thin black strap of a camisole.
Her grey hair was pulled into a messy bun, held in place by a stray stylus, and she wore thick-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look enormous and startlingly bright.
The grey-haired girl was currently leaning forward, her forehead nearly touching her monitor, muttering something to herself while she frantically moved her mouse. "No, no, no… the bounce animation is too rigid," she whispered, her voice a soft melodic trill that somehow carried over the office hum. "It needs to feel more inviting, like a soft landing."
The girl shifted in her chair, and the movement caused her sweater to ride up just a fraction. From his vantage point, Makoto caught a glimpse of a soft-toned waist and the very top of a pair of denim shorts that were definitely too short for a traditional office. She looked like a 2.5D dream come true, the perfect Cute Junior archetype.
Suddenly, she let out a frustrated huff and stood up, turning toward the lobby to head for the coffee machine. Then her eyes landed on Makoto, realizing his gaze.
The girl was even cuter up close. Her skin was like porcelain, and she had a faint dusting of freckles across her nose that made her look innocent. She stared at Makoto for a heartbeat, her gaze traveling from his polished shoes up to his nervous face.
Then, she smiled. It wasn't the predatory grin of Ayane or the smug smirk of Yuna. It was a warm, genuine, and incredibly infectious beam of pure sunshine.
"Waiting for the interview? You must be the Aiko-bot guy!" she chirped, practically bouncing over to him. The movement caused her boobs to jiggle in a way that made Makoto's throat dry out. "Kenta-senpai and Kyosuke-san haven't stopped talking about your coding assignment for three days!"
She struck a cute pose, her fingers forming a V over her nose. "I'm Yui, Junior UI Designer. I joined about a month ago!"
"I… uh… yes. I'm Makoto. Nice to meet you," he managed to say, his voice only cracking slightly.
Yui giggled, sounding bright and cheerful. She stepped closer, the scent of her, sweet vanilla and a sharp, clean scent of marker pens, overwhelming the sterile lobby air. She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm as she pointed toward the conference rooms.
"You look like you're about to faint, senpai," she murmured, her eyes wide and full of playful concern behind her glasses. "Don't be nervous! The leadership team is a bunch of weebs. Just talk to them like you talk to your… well, whoever inspired your chatbot."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Between you and me? The current UI for the Librarian archetype is a disaster; it looks like a bank app. If you get hired, promise you'll help me make it feel warmer? More like a home?"
"I… I'll do my best," Makoto promised, his heart hammering against his ribs.
As she spoke, she reached up and adjusted his tie, her fingers lingering against the fabric. It was a casual, friendly gesture, but the way she looked up at him through her lashes was mischievous.
"Good," Yui whispered, giving his tie one final playful tug. "Good luck, senpai. I'll be rooting for you. If you pass, I'll buy you a coffee to celebrate. My treat!"
She gave him a quick, bubbly wave and disappeared back into the design pod. Makoto watched her go, his mind still reeling. "She was sweet, just a co-worker who didn't threaten to castrate me or track our GPS."
"Makoto-san? They're ready for you. Good luck." The receptionist beckoned him, but as he walked toward the boardroom, he couldn't help but glance back at the UI department.
Yui was back at her desk, but she was looking over her shoulder, throwing him a secret supportive wink.
"God help me," Makoto thought as he stepped into the meeting. "Mika is going to smell this girl on me from three miles away."
Makoto stopped before a door labeled "Dopamine Lab". He took a deep breath to clear his head from earlier distractions. He thought of Yuna's savings, Mika's preparation, Ayane's connections, and Mafuyu's pancakes.
He opened the door. Outside, the sun shone. At home, four women waited, checking their phones and holding their breath.
===
The Dopamine Lab room looked more like a high-end LAN party that had evolved into a corporation, smelling of stale energy drinks and electronics. Beanbag chairs were scattered haphazardly, screens glowed with lines of code and rendering engines, and a mini-fridge in the corner hummed loudly.
Inside, sitting on beanbag chairs, were three men: One was typing on a keyboard with no letters. One was wearing a hoodie of hentai girls making ahegao faces. And the third one, a man with messy hair and glasses, looked up.
In the center was Kenta, the CTO whom Ayane knew. He was wearing the hentai ahegao hoodie while spinning a fidget spinner. "Yo, welcome to Clitify, Makoto. Are you the guy who made the Aiko-bot that tried to lock us in the server room?"
Makoto stepped into the room. He didn't bow or apologize, just grinned. "Yeah, that was me. It was a feature, not a bug."
Kenta laughed. "I like you already, Makoto-kun. Sit down, please. I'm Kenta, the CTO of Clitify. Let's talk about yandere obsession and for loops."
To Kenta's left was a man introduced as Hiro, the Lead Designer, wearing a Gawr Gura T-shirt while typing on a white mechanical keyboard with no letters.
To the right was Kyosuke, the Product Manager, who looked surprisingly normal in a button-down shirt and glasses, except for the fact that he was currently petting a dakimakura pillow as if it were a cat.
"Name is Kyosuke, Makoto-san. I'm the father of all the AI archetypes here. You can think of them as a template that we build upon to give our AI companion personality." Kyosuke said, standing up and offering a firm, surprisingly warm handshake. "Kenta's friend told me you were a man of culture. Your Aiko-bot prototype told me you're a man of talent. Let's talk."
Makoto shook Kyosuke's hand and sat in a plush gaming chair, facing three men who held his future in their hands.
He took a deep breath, ready for the interview to begin. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like he was pretending. He was exactly where he belonged.