People often say Japanese workers stay late yet accomplish little.
The world thinks of them as diligent, but the truth's more complicated. Some linger just to look busy. Others hang around because their coworkers do. Beneath the hardworking image, there's a streak of laziness too.
It's true.
Or so they say.
And honestly, that kind of workplace sounds pretty nice.
Even if the average Japanese worker seems inefficient, you can't deny their relentless effort turned Japan into a leading nation.
And here, in another world, stands one such hardworking soul.
A woman with black hair and sharp glasses radiates competence.
Her name: Asahi Tonegawa, the Queen summoned as a bride to the Guardia Kingdom.
She doesn't speak. She doesn't smile.
Same stoic face. Same deathly silence.
But the desk before her isn't buried in paperwork anymore.
Apparently, the King regained his motivation—thanks to the Queen's "persuasive" body-blows.
Of course, the real reason the workload dropped was her shouting,
"Stop bringing trivial nonsense up here! Handle it downstairs!"
After that, the staff learned quickly.
When someone once sent a request saying, "We need a budget to fix a cracked bathroom tile," the Queen nearly split the royal desk in two with her fist.
"Hey, Asahi. I had some free time, so I came to see you."
"Leave."
Instant response. No hesitation.
The visitor? A blond, blue-eyed ideal-looking man—the King, her husband.
He smiles, but Asahi stares coldly at her documents, radiating pure annoyance.
"You never change, Asahi. That's what makes you cute, though."
"Die."
Her aura shifts from rejection to murderous intent.
At this rate, she might assassinate him and take the throne herself.
"Pardon me, Your Majesty," one knight blurts out. "Isn't that language far too rude toward His Majesty?"
(Random side note: the chronic typo of writing 'shimashimasu' instead of 'shimasu' remains unexplained.)
The King waves off the concern.
"No problem. Asahi's mouth is sharp, sure, but in bed, I'm the absolute monarch."
"Die!?"
She crumples a paper and hurls it at his face, cheeks burning scarlet.
Apparently, the Queen's a tsundere.
"Don't say things like that out loud! Keep them to yourself!"
"My heart's already filled with love for Asahi. No room left to keep anything inside."
"Shut up!"
She grabs his collar, shaking him hard. He only laughs.
At work, she's in control.
At home, he clearly is.
Despite her capable image, Asahi's just a closeted otaku—your classic himono girl behind closed doors.
"Oh, right," the King says. "A delegation's coming from the Meldia Kingdom. There's someone interesting among them."
"What?"
Still gripping him, she takes the paper he offers—a personnel list.
"...Yuuki Kokushou?"
One name catches her eye.
It sounds strangely familiar.
The King nods.
"He recently became a direct retainer to the First Prince. Appeared out of nowhere. Says his homeland is some far-off place he won't name."
"...I can't be sure," she murmurs.
But she understands his point: Could this man be Japanese too?
"Well, if he's part of the envoy, we'll find out soon enough," the King says. "If he is, what then?"
"I heard he's talented. Maybe we can use you as bait to recruit him."
"If he's that capable, don't. You'll just make enemies."
She sighs inwardly. Just because we're both Japanese doesn't mean we're friends.
No one could have guessed that when they finally met, they'd hit it off so well that it would spark an international uproar.
Today, the otherworld remains peaceful.