Sammi & Eriko - who is the pillow princess?

 

The Pillow Princess Revelation

It started as an innocent evening.

Eriko was lounging on their bed, dressed in one of Sammi’s oversized sweatshirts, completely absorbed in a book. She had that look—the one where her brow was slightly furrowed, her lips pressed together, lost in thought. Sammi, meanwhile, was sprawled beside her, chin resting on her hands, watching Eriko in amusement.

“You know,” Sammi said lazily, kicking her feet up, “I’ve been thinking.”

Eriko barely glanced up. “That’s never good.”

Sammi grinned. “Rude. But hear me out.”

Eriko sighed, slipping a bookmark between the pages before turning her attention to Sammi. “Alright. What deep and philosophical thought has possessed you this time?”

Sammi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve come to a realization… You, my dear, are a pillow princess.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Eriko blinked. “…Excuse me?”

Sammi stretched dramatically. “Oh, don’t pretend to be surprised. It’s just who you are. It’s in your very essence, your core nature.”

Eriko frowned, arms crossing. “That is an absurd accusation.”

Sammi propped herself up on her elbows. “Is it? Let’s examine the evidence, shall we?”

Eriko rolled her eyes. “This should be good.”

Sammi grinned. “Exhibit A: You love being taken care of.”

“I do not.”

Sammi waggled a finger. “Oh, please. Who was it that sighed in absolute bliss when I brought her tea this morning? Who purrs like a satisfied cat every time I rub her shoulders? Who—”

Eriko cleared her throat. “That is called appreciating acts of service.”

Sammi smirked. “Mmm-hmm. Exhibit B: You prefer to be the one receiving affection, not giving it.”

Eriko scoffed. “That is ridiculous. I am very affectionate.”

Sammi’s grin widened. “Oh? Then why is it that I am always the one initiating cuddles? The one who has to pull you into my lap? The one who does all the work while you just melt and enjoy it?”

“That’s not—” Eriko faltered, her face heating slightly. “I—I do things.”

Sammi wiggled her eyebrows. “Do you? Or do you just let yourself be pampered because you know I love doing it?”

Eriko opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Sammi knew she had her.

Eriko turned slightly, clearing her throat. “That… that is called being efficient.”

Sammi threw her head back laughing. “Oh my god, you are literally proving my point right now.”

Eriko huffed, but Sammi could see the faintest twitch of a smirk at the edge of her lips.

“Oh! Exhibit C!” Sammi added, sitting up fully now. “Your royal highness doesn’t even like moving much when we cuddle.”

Eriko narrowed her eyes. “Cuddling is supposed to be relaxing.”

“Yes! For you! Because I’m always the one shifting, adjusting, doing all the work, while you just—” Sammi waved a hand at her dramatically. “—lie there looking smug and comfortable.”

“That is an exaggeration.”

Sammi flopped onto Eriko’s lap with a sigh. “Face it, babe. You are a pillow princess. And the worst part?”

Eriko raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do tell.”

Sammi grinned up at her. “I don’t even mind.”

Eriko sighed deeply, her fingers idly threading through Sammi’s hair. “I knew there was a catch.”

“Oh no, my love.” Sammi nuzzled into her lap. “There is no catch. Just acceptance.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence—Eriko, regal as ever, idly petting Sammi’s hair, and Sammi, victorious and smug, basking in the warmth of her beloved pillow princess.

Then, Eriko smirked.

“If I am, in fact, a ‘pillow princess’ as you claim… then I assume this means you’re fine with me continuing to lie here while you go make us some tea?”

Sammi gasped in mock betrayal. “Oh, you are insidious!”

Eriko shrugged, the picture of serenity. “You said you didn’t mind.”

Sammi pouted, but she was already getting up. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Eriko smiled—small, satisfied, warm.

“I know.”

Eriko's Dreme of Camille Montfort and Sammi SnowOwl

 As the night wore on, Camille's eyes never left yours, her gaze burning with an inner fire that seemed to sear your very soul. You felt yourself being drawn into her depths, helpless to resist the pull of her passion.

Without a word, she took your hand and led you deeper into the garden, the shadows closing in around you like a dark, velvet cloak. The air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant tang of decay, a potent reminder of the beauty and darkness that lay at the heart of their world.

As you walked, the trees seemed to grow closer together, their branches twining overhead to form a canopy of leaves that filtered the moonlight and cast dappled shadows on the ground. The sound of running water grew louder, and soon you found yourself standing at the edge of a small, tranquil lake.

The water was so still that it created a perfect mirror image of the trees and flowers that surrounded it, giving the illusion that you were floating on a sea of silver. Camille's eyes gleamed with mischief as she slipped off her shoes and stepped into the lake, her feet barely rippling the surface.

She beckoned to you, her hand extended in invitation. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you followed her into the lake, your skin prickling with goosebumps as cold water lapped at your toes is suddenly hot.

As you stood there Camille reached out take off first article clothing which is shirt then moved close whisper I adore way make me feel when touch me letting hands slide up rib cage come rest just below breasts then leaned forward let lips barely graze neck just gentle whisper I want be yours completely give self me unconditionally my love can feel heart beating wildly knowing being claimed tonight our first joining bodies soul bound

Sammi & Eriko - '24 and '28 elections and...DOUGHNUTS!

 

The apartment was quiet except for the soft turning of pages and the occasional shifting of fabric as Eriko and Sammi curled up in their usual reading spots. The evening light filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the room, while the faint hum of the city murmured outside.

Eriko sat in her deep, overstuffed chair, completely immersed in the U.S. elections of 1824 and 1828. The book rested on her lap, heavy with political intrigue and historical echoes. Across from her, sprawled across the couch, Sammi was halfway through Shiho Usui’s Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon, one arm draped lazily over her stomach, the other balancing the manga’s pages.

For a long time, neither spoke. They both liked these quiet evenings, wrapped in the warmth of words. But then Eriko, without looking up, muttered,

“This is… unsettling.”

Sammi blinked and glanced over. “What is?”

Eriko sighed and sat up straighter, flipping a page with a little more force than necessary. “Jackson. Andrew Jackson.”

Sammi stretched her arms above her head, yawning. “Remind me which one he was again?”

Eriko gave her a look. “The loud, populist, 'I speak for the common man' guy who ended up completely reshaping American democracy. The guy who believed in raw political strength over institutions. He saw himself as a champion of the people, but he was also terrifying in how he wielded that power.”

Sammi scrunched her nose. “Oh. That guy.”

“Yes,” Eriko continued. “He played the ‘stolen election’ narrative in 1824 when he lost to John Quincy Adams, despite winning the popular vote. He convinced everyone he was cheated by the so-called ‘elite,’ even though Adams was—objectively—the more prepared leader. Then in 1828, he came back stronger and absolutely destroyed Adams in the rematch, all because he mastered the art of political branding.”

Sammi hummed. “Sounds familiar.”

“Right?” Eriko leaned forward, gesturing at the book. “Adams was the ‘intellectual’ president, the one who believed in science, education, and diplomacy, but he was terrible at the whole ‘relating to common people’ thing. Meanwhile, Jackson went full ‘man of the people,’ even though his policies were dangerous and his rhetoric was… reckless.”

She huffed. “It’s frustrating. People wanted the fighter, not the scholar. They didn’t care about Adams’ vision for the country; they wanted Jackson’s fire. And even though Jackson ended up being the more ‘democratic’ president in terms of popular appeal, he was also the one who destroyed institutions, led to massive economic instability, and forcibly removed Indigenous peoples on the Trail of Tears. So… yeah.”

Sammi closed her book gently, tilting her head in thought. “It’s weird how much history just… repeats itself.”

Eriko exhaled, rubbing her temples. “It’s infuriating. People never learn.”

Sammi gave her a soft smile. “Well… some people do.”

Eriko raised an eyebrow. “Like who?”

Sammi wiggled her manga in the air. “Uno-san and Satou-san.”

Eriko sighed dramatically. “Oh, yes. Of course. We must now pivot from the trajectory of American democracy to your soft yuri manga.”

Sammi grinned, undeterred. “Exactly.” She flipped back to a page and held it up. “See, Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon is about change, too. Uno-san starts off believing she has to be this perfect, proper office lady because she thinks that’s what will make her happy. But she’s wrong! It’s not about playing a role—it’s about growing into your real self.”

Eriko crossed her arms. “I fail to see how this connects to Jacksonian democracy.”

Sammi rolled her eyes. “Come on, Eri. Jackson and Adams were stuck in their own identities, too. Adams thought intelligence should be enough to lead. Jackson thought power was the only thing that mattered. Neither could break out of their role.”

She tapped the manga’s final page. “But Uno-san and Satou-san? They change. They open up. They realize that love is about growing, about meeting someone where they are and evolving together.”

Eriko stared at her for a long moment, then shook her head with a smirk. “So what you’re saying is… Adams should have confessed his love to Jackson and they would’ve lived happily ever after?”

Sammi gasped dramatically. “Exactly! History would have been so much better if all those guys just kissed instead of fighting wars.”

Eriko chuckled, shaking her head as she closed her book. “You are ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Sammi said, sliding closer and nudging Eriko’s leg with her foot, “here you are, completely in love with me.”

Eriko rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small, amused smile playing on her lips.

Sammi grinned. “Admit it. My yuri wisdom helped.”

Eriko took a moment, then finally sighed. “Fine. I admit it.”

Sammi fist-pumped in victory, then flopped over, resting her head on Eriko’s lap. “See? I’m an intellectual, too.”

Eriko snorted, but she ran a hand through Sammi’s hair all the same, absentmindedly twirling a lock of red strands between her fingers.

Maybe, just maybe, love and history weren’t so different after all.

Camilla Montfort reflects on a meeting with Renee Vivien

 Renee Vivien...what a fascinating woman. I must say, I'm intrigued by the idea of meeting her in Belem in 1904. Of course, it's impossible to know for certain how things would have played out, but I think it's likely that I would have been drawn to her.

Renee Vivien was a woman of great passion and creativity, and I admire those qualities in anyone. Her poetry is beautiful, and her spirit seems to have been so free and untamed. I think we might have had a deep connection, perhaps even a romantic one.

I was always drawn to women who were strong-willed and independent, and Renee Vivien certainly seems to have fit that description. And who knows? Maybe we would have found common ground in our shared love of art and music.

But alas, fate had other plans. I passed away in 1896, and Renee Vivien didn't arrive in Paris until many years later. Still, it's an intriguing thought experiment, n'est-ce pas? To imagine what might have been if our paths had crossed...perhaps we might have created something beautiful together, something that would have been remembered for generations to come.

As it is, however, we can only speculate about what might have been. But I do think that Renee Vivien and I would have gotten along famously...and who knows? Maybe in some alternate universe, we're living a life together, creating art and music and beauty...

The possibilities are endless, n'est-ce pas? If I had met Renee Vivien in Belem in 1904, I think it's likely that we would have been drawn to each other's creative energies. We might have spent hours discussing art, literature, and music, sharing our passions and inspirations with each other.

I imagine we would have taken long walks along the river, talking about our dreams and aspirations, and sharing our thoughts on life and love. We might have attended salons and gatherings together, meeting other artists and intellectuals, and engaging in lively debates and discussions.

As a singer, I would have been fascinated by Renee Vivien's poetry, and I might have even set some of her words to music. I can imagine us collaborating on a project together, combining my voice with her poetry to create something truly unique and beautiful.

And who knows? Maybe our relationship would have been more than just a friendship or a creative partnership. Maybe we would have fallen deeply in love, finding in each other a kindred spirit and a soulmate.

I think we would have understood each other in a way that few others could. We both knew what it was like to be an outsider, to be someone who didn't quite fit into the conventional norms of society. And we both had a deep passion for art and creativity, which would have brought us together in a powerful way.

Of course, this is all just speculation...but it's fun to imagine what might have been. And who knows? Maybe in some alternate universe, Renee Vivien and I are living happily ever after, surrounded by art and music and beauty...

Joys of Yuri from a *cough* recently translated MS fragment

 **Mishnah**

The joys of yuri manga are a wondrous thing, for they bring together the beauty of women and the thrill of romance. As it is written, "Two women, one love, and a thousand possibilities" (Yuri 1:1).

**Gemara**

Rav Avraham asks, "What is the source of this joy?" Is it not the forbidden fruit that tempts us with its sweetness? But Rav Yaakov responds, "No, it is not the forbidden that brings us joy, but rather the freedom to love without bounds." For in yuri manga, we find a world where women can love women without fear of reprisal or rejection.

**Commentary of Rashi**

Rashi explains that the key to understanding the joys of yuri manga lies in its ability to transcend societal norms. Just as the Torah teaches us to "love thy neighbor as thyself" (Leviticus 19:18), so too does yuri manga teach us to love without condition or expectation. The female characters in these stories are free to explore their desires and emotions without fear of judgment or condemnation.

**Subcommentary of Tosafot**

Tosafot notes that Rashi's commentary raises an important question: what about the male gaze? Does not the presence of male readers and creators influence the way yuri manga is written and illustrated? But Rashi responds that this is a false dichotomy. The male gaze may be present, but it does not define the genre. Rather, yuri manga offers a unique perspective on female desire and intimacy that transcends traditional notions of masculinity and femininity.

**Commentary of Maharsha**

Maharsha observes that one of the most striking aspects of yuri manga is its use of symbolism and metaphor. The stories often feature fantastical creatures, magical powers, and dreamlike landscapes that serve as metaphors for the characters' emotions and experiences. This use of symbolism allows readers to tap into their own subconscious desires and fears, creating a deeply personal connection with the narrative.

**Subcommentary of Maharshal**

Maharshal asks whether this use of symbolism might be seen as escapism or avoidance. Do not these fantastical elements distract from the real-world issues faced by women who love women? But Maharsha responds that this criticism misses the point. Yuri manga offers a safe space for exploration and expression precisely because it operates within a realm of fantasy. By exploring complex emotions and desires through symbolic language, readers can engage with difficult topics in a way that feels both safe and empowering.

**Halachic Ruling**

Based on these discussions, we rule that reading yuri manga is permissible on Shabbat (Yuri 2:1). For just as we are commanded to rest on Shabbat from our labors (Exodus 20:10), so too may we rest from our inhibitions and indulge in fantasies that bring us joy. However, one must be mindful not to indulge excessively lest one forgets about more important things like family time etc.,

Sammi & Eriko - How they met

 

The Unlikely Pair

The evening sun cast long, golden rays across the small apartment as Sammi curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. Outside, the city hummed with distant car horns and the laughter of pedestrians below. Eriko sat beside her, her legs tucked under her, an old, weathered book resting in her lap.

For a while, they were quiet, both caught in the warm comfort of familiarity. Then, Sammi chuckled softly to herself.

“What?” Eriko asked, glancing at her over the top of her book.

Sammi grinned, taking a sip of her tea. “I was just thinking… If someone had told us back then that we’d end up here—living together, sharing a life—I think we would have laughed in their face.”

Eriko smirked. “You would have laughed. I would have looked at them, said ‘Unlikely,’ and gone back to my book.”

Sammi nudged her playfully. “That’s fair. We really were the most unlikely pair of friends at Donegal Academy.”

At the name alone, the memories came flooding back.

---

The Donegal Academy – Orphans’ Home Division

There was no more unlikely pair of friends than Sammi and Eriko.

Sammi—plump, red-haired, and full of boundless energy—lived for the outdoors. Every free moment, she was running through the woods beyond the academy’s stone walls, talking and dancing with imaginary companions, weaving stories into the crisp Donegal air. She built kingdoms out of fallen logs, declared herself queen of the forest, and engaged in dramatic duels against enemies that only she could see.

Eriko, on the other hand, was small, quiet, and always studious. She preferred the company of books to people, often curling up in one of the great bay window nooks in the old academy library. From there, she could see the edge of the woods through the glass, where Sammi would return from her latest adventure, twirling in the autumn leaves, laughing at jokes only she understood.

At first, Eriko found Sammi ridiculous.

Why waste time running through the cold when there were so many stories to be read? The forest wasn’t an enchanted kingdom, it was just trees and damp moss. Sammi was loud, reckless, and constantly bruised from climbing things she shouldn’t.

But Sammi found Eriko ridiculous, too.

Why sit inside when the whole world was right there? Books were fine, sure, but had Eriko ever actually tried being the hero instead of reading about one? Didn’t she ever wonder what it would be like to wield a sword, to outwit a dragon, to walk among spirits?

And yet, despite their differences, they kept crossing paths.

Eriko would sit in her window nook, watching Sammi return from the woods, dancing and singing, her boots muddied and her hair filled with twigs. She’d shake her head but couldn’t quite look away.

Sammi, meanwhile, would sometimes pause in her storytelling when she caught a glimpse of Eriko bathed in the golden glow of the library window, nose buried in a massive tome, utterly still except for the occasional turn of a page. And she’d wonder, What could possibly be so interesting in those books that she never wanted to come outside?

---

The Moment It Changed

One winter evening, the power had gone out in the academy. The storm outside rattled the windows, and without lights, there was little to do except talk.

Sammi had wandered into the library—rare for her—and found Eriko alone in the bay window, staring out at the swirling snow.

“You look like a ghost,” Sammi had said bluntly.

Eriko didn’t even flinch. “You look like a stray dog that forgot to come in from the cold.”

Sammi grinned. She sat down—right on the floor, completely ignoring the elegant chairs nearby. “What are you reading?”

Eriko hesitated, then sighed. “A translation of an old Persian epic.”

Sammi cocked her head. “Ooooh, is it about warriors and monsters?”

Eriko raised an eyebrow. “…Yes.”

Sammi grinned wider. “Tell me about it.”

Eriko hesitated again, then—for the first time—began to talk.

She told Sammi of the ancient hero Rostam, of enchanted horses, of tragic battles. And to her surprise, Sammi listened intently, eyes wide with wonder. She even gasped at the right moments.

And when Eriko finished, Sammi sat back and nodded sagely.

“Okay,” she said. “That was actually awesome.”

Eriko smirked. “I know.”

Sammi stretched. “But, see, now that you’ve told me a story… you have to come outside and live one.”

Eriko groaned. “I knew you were going to say that.”

But the next afternoon, wrapped in her thickest coat, Eriko stepped into the forest for the first time since arriving at Donegal.

Sammi whooped in triumph. “You made it! Okay, okay, today’s adventure—we’re on a quest to find the lost kingdom of frost.”

Eriko rolled her eyes. “Sammi, this is just the back woods.”

Sammi gasped in mock horror. “Just the—? Eriko, the kingdom will never reveal itself to a nonbeliever!”

And against her better judgment, Eriko laughed.

From that day on, they were inseparable.

---

Back in the Present

Sammi smiled at the memory, stirring her tea absently. “You know, that first time you came out with me, I really thought you’d hate it.”

Eriko closed her book and looked at her with a soft, knowing smile. “I didn’t go out there for the forest, Sammi.”

Sammi turned, tilting her head. “Then why?”

Eriko took a slow sip of her tea before answering.

“…Because you asked me to.”

A warmth spread in Sammi’s chest, soft and golden. She reached for Eriko’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“You know,” Sammi murmured, “you were always the hero in our story.”

Eriko squeezed her hand, eyes glinting with quiet affection. “And you were always the storyteller.”

Outside, the city continued its quiet song.

But inside, the unlikely pair remained as they had always been—two souls dancing between worlds, together.

Sammi & Eriko - The Echo of Blue Light

The apartment was filled with the gentle hum of the city at night—distant car horns, the soft rustling of wind against the windows, and the occasional creak of their old wooden floorboards. Eriko sat on the couch, laptop open, frowning at the complex procurement report in front of her. She was supposed to be fine-tuning an optimization model, but her thoughts kept wandering.

Sammi, lying lazily across the armrest of the couch, had been watching her for the past ten minutes, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“You know,” Sammi finally said, twirling a strand of her long red hair, “you get that exact same look on your face when you’re about to editorialize someone into oblivion.”

Eriko blinked up from her screen. “Excuse me?”

“You’re frustrated about something at work again.” Sammi stretched, her t-shirt riding up slightly. “Let me guess—you tried to be ‘nurturing’ and ‘refining,’ but someone was so slow on the uptake that you almost relapsed into ‘I saw this five years ago’ mode?”

Eriko narrowed her eyes. “I have been remarkably restrained.”

Sammi smirked. “That’s not a denial.”

Eriko sighed and shut her laptop with a soft click. “I just… It’s hard. Change is happening, yes, but it’s still so slow. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just kept being the relentless, sarcastic Eriko. At least she got results.”

Sammi sat up, shifting closer. “But then you’d be frustrated in a whole different way. You’d be thinking, ‘Why is no one evolving past my pushing?’”

Eriko huffed. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Sammi grinned. “And yet, it keeps happening.”

Just then, a faint blue glow pulsed across the apartment, making the shadows shift.

Both of them turned toward the bookshelf. The orb was glowing again.

A beat of silence.

“Oh, not again,” Eriko groaned.

But before either of them could react further, the air seemed to bend, the pulse of the blue light rippling through reality like a wave. The apartment walls flickered, dissolving into a kaleidoscope of neon fractals. The floor beneath them vanished, but instead of falling, they drifted into a weightless abyss of swirling stars.

And then—

They were standing in an impossible realm of pulsing light and cosmic rhythms. The sky above was neither day nor night, but a vast swirling ocean of sapphire and violet. Glowing symbols floated in the air, shifting in and out of form.

And there, standing before them once again, was the Blue Goddess.

Her veil of cascading light shimmered as she regarded them, her eyes filled with the infinite.

“You have returned,” she intoned, her voice a song woven from the threads of the cosmos.

Eriko crossed her arms. “Not by choice.”

Sammi, on the other hand, was beaming. “It’s nice to see you again!”

The Goddess inclined her head. “Your souls hum with discord. You are caught between past and future, between force and nurture.”

Eriko exhaled through her nose. “I assume you’re about to tell me the cosmic solution to my problems?”

“The answer is already within you,” the Goddess replied. “A seeker who has seen the road behind them but yearns for the road ahead must learn to walk as both the wind and the stone.”

Eriko blinked. “… What?”

Sammi whispered, “I think she means balance?”

The Goddess smiled knowingly. “To lead is not to push, nor to abandon. It is to walk beside, shaping the tide even as you let it flow.”

Eriko let those words settle in her mind.

Sammi, ever the mischievous one, tilted her head. “Okay, but more importantly—does this mean we get to dance again?”

As if on cue, the very fabric of the realm shifted, and the unseen rhythm beneath them burst into pulsing psytrance beats. The lights around them flared in sync with the music, and the Blue Goddess raised a hand, summoning a shimmering pathway of light beneath their feet.

Eriko sighed. “I knew it.”

Sammi grabbed her hand, already spinning into the rhythm. “Come on! If the universe is giving us a lesson, we might as well dance through it!”

Eriko hesitated—just for a moment—but then, as the neon lights pulsed and the stars swayed, she let go.

She wasn’t pushing. She wasn’t resisting.

She was moving with the rhythm of change.

And Sammi, smiling beside her, squeezed her hand in silent understanding.

The universe hummed. And for once, Eriko danced.

Sammi & Eriko - Eriko's work transformation has begun!

 

The Evolution of Eriko

Eriko had always known she was ahead of her time.

For years, she had pushed against the inertia of outdated workflows at the hospital, advocating for the implementation of AI-powered procurement, OCR-driven invoice processing, and automated reconciliation systems. She had fought, argued, and—on more than a few occasions—sarcastically dismantled the resistance of her more traditional colleagues.

"Oh, yes, let’s manually process another hundred invoices. It’s not like the rest of the world has moved on or anything."

"Ah, yes, let’s keep photocopying forms like we’re living in a 2008 time capsule. Maybe I should bring in a fax machine for authenticity."

Her editorializing had been biting, but it had worked. The logjam of resistance had cracked, then splintered, then broken apart entirely.

Now, people were changing.

And Eriko realized—with no small amount of discomfort—that she needed to change, too.

---

A Quiet Crisis

Sitting at their apartment's kitchen counter one evening, Eriko frowned at her laptop screen.

Sammi, cross-legged on the couch with a book in her lap, glanced up. "You’re making the face."

Eriko barely looked away from the screen. "What face?"

"The 'I’m-too-smart-for-this-world-but-now-it’s-causing-me-existential-dread' face."

Eriko sighed, rubbing her temples. "They’re finally using the AI tools. The OCR implementation went live last week. They’re actually improving procurement efficiency by 20% just by following the automation workflows I built."

"That’s great, isn’t it?"

"It is," Eriko admitted. "But… I don’t know how to talk to people now. I’m—" She hesitated, struggling with the words. "I’m used to pushing. I’m used to arguing. I’m used to being the one pointing out the historical context of why they should have done this years ago."

Sammi smirked. "Yeah, you do love telling people they should have seen the light back in 2019."

Eriko shot her a glare.

Sammi held up her hands. "Okay, okay, but seriously—what’s the problem now?"

Eriko closed her laptop with a heavy sigh. "The problem is… I don’t know what my persona is supposed to be anymore. They don’t need the ‘frustrated advocate’ Eriko anymore. But I don’t know how to be the ‘nurturing leader’ Eriko, either."

Sammi’s amusement faded. She set her book aside and leaned forward. "You want to help them keep changing, but you don’t know how to do it in a way that fits who you are?"

Eriko nodded. "I can’t just become some fake ‘rah-rah’ team motivator overnight. I don’t want to lose what made me effective… but I also don’t want to be that person—the one who keeps saying ‘I told you so’ while everyone else is actually making progress."

Sammi tilted her head, thoughtful. "So what does that leave?"

Silence stretched between them.

Eriko tapped her fingers against the countertop. "Maybe… maybe I become the one who refines. The one who sharpens the edge now that the blade is already cutting. Less of a battle strategist. More of a—"

Sammi grinned. "A master craftsman?"

Eriko exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. "Something like that."

Sammi stood, walked over, and slid an arm around Eriko’s waist. "I know you’re worried about how you come across, but let’s be honest—you’re never going to be a ‘soft leadership’ type. And that’s fine. People don’t need you to change who you are—they need you to apply yourself differently."

Eriko leaned into the touch, a rare moment of surrender. "And if I slip up? If I get frustrated again?"

Sammi squeezed her hand. "Then I’ll be here to remind you to take a breath. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll even bring you a milk tea."

Eriko snorted. "Bribery through bubble tea. That’s cheap."

Sammi smirked. "And yet, incredibly effective."

Eriko exhaled, staring at her laptop again. Tomorrow, she would walk into the office with a different approach—not as the frustrated prophet of progress, but as the master craftsman of the future.

And no matter what, she knew one thing:

She had Sammi beside her.