The man across the table rubs his hands sheepishly, blushing. “I’m sorry, I’m very nervous. I don’t get to speak English very often,” he says with perfect pronunciation. He bows in Manager and Bucho’s direction. “Douzo yoroshiku onegai itashimasu,” he mutters. His cheeks flush in a way that’s kind of cute. Both Manager and Bucho bow back with “kochira koso,” etc., etc. This goes on until finally Manager remembers I am there.

“Ah, yes! Cybelle, go ahead. She has very easy questions, don’t worry! Cybelle, douzo.”

The hell I do. Not when I can finally have a decent conversation with a candidate. “What did you say your first name was again?”

“Zaniel.”

“‘Zaniel.’ That’s a pretty cool name. What does it mean?”

“Hmmm …” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think it means?”

Crap, my face is getting so warm. I try to make sense of my interview papers and almost drop them all. “I, uh … okay, never mind. I have a few questions for you. Just answer them as best as you can.”

“Love to.”

“Why did you choose to apply to this company?”

Zaniel inhales softly, gazing up at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights catch on his long eyelashes. “Well, the truth is, right now I do translation work for this big company. I’m just a salaryman. I work in Osaka, way downtown, where it’s super crowded and dirty. The job pays well, sure, but I’ve been doing it for years and it’s killing me. It’s boring, it’s tedious, and as much as I hate to admit it, the atmosphere is pretty soul-sucking. I’d rather work with people, you know? Do something that lets me talk to people, have a real conversation. And I think my English is still pretty good, so I thought why not make a change?” He pauses, then gives a short bow to end his sentence.

Manager nods several times like he understood all of that and is now about to say something, but he turns to me instead. He leans so close to read my interview paper that I can count the dandruff flakes on his scalp. Wait. Something isn’t right about all this … and it isn’t Manager’s brand of shampoo.

“So, when exactly did you apply to this company?” I ask.

“Uh, just a moment,” Manager sits upright and flips through his notes. He’s holding what looks like the typical interview candidate profile, complete with a stern-looking photo in the top right-hand corner. The photo looks nothing like Zaniel. “Ah! Two weeks ago. And you passed the English exam at one hundred percent. Sugoi, Kamisawa-san! Thank you for your hard work!”