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P. E. R. V. E. R. T.
That's the unlawful impression you've come to make of Toji Fushiguro, the assistant hired amidst the thick hesitation.
It was a thought, a concept you could never come to terms with, having a complete stranger invade the systems you've built into place. Yet that was before the unforeseen success of your business, the newfound popularity in data management reigning supreme.
As the business grew from a one-man show to now housing thousands of employees, such an obsolete way of thinking had no place in your mind as the CEO. It was the reluctance that halted the precarious search, wanting to hold onto the concept for as long as possible.
A disheartening reality was all you were left with, facing burnout at the end of every workday. It was harsh, not needing the roll of words but the visual realization of your vivid truth.
Not a single person could run a vast establishment like yours, the need for both good help and good hands being dire.
When it came time to consider candidates for the position, some could say that you pitted yourself for failure. There was a certain joy that sprouted in your heart, giddily conducting interviews without the advice of your advisors. Within two days, you swore you found your other half, one marked in the pure scent of ambition and success.
That man was the one named Toji Fushiguro. Not to be mistaken, the entire ordeal was of your doing as well, allowing lust to guide your judgment. A beautiful man he was, standing at six feet even with a face sculpted by the gods themselves.
It was his appearance that made him an affirmative hire, the shaggy mess of his ravenous black hair, the contoured curves of his muscles beneath the white dress shirt, and the coincidentally placed scar along his lips' curve were all the weaknesses you didn't need—but gave into all too sinfully.
You should've known it was wrong, gravely wrong to hire a man whose only requisition for the job was "to do anything for the money."
Within the three months of his hire, you quickly came to know what tasks he was capable of–and what he wasn't capable of. Messages were given to you late, papers were printed far too carelessly and his demeanor of crude bearings scared off everyone who encountered Toji.
