The man towers over my life like Atlas holding up an entire Earth's worth of responsibility.
He checks my work. He checks my fashion and manners. He then not too tactfully gushes advice on my family and my future. This river of admonition flows every day, and my only defense is to bow in his presence and agree. But -- when free from his sniper vision -- I ignore every single word he says.
This man is not my father, or an older brother, or my boss, or even an in-law with money. No, no, ours is a delicate relationship beyond all bonds of blood and employment.
The man is (drum roll) . . . my "sempai."