Breaking the language barrier without breaking the meaning.

If you write Japanese at work, you know the pause. The message is finished, and you read it back one more time trying to decide whether the tone is right. Too polite? Not polite enough? Or somewhere in the middle that no native speaker would have written?

At work it's the client email where a single keigo form undercuts everything else you said. The Slack message to your boss you rewrote three times. Asking a Japanese colleague to check your two-sentence reply. Again.

It doesn't stop at the office, though. It's the LINE message to your partner's parents, where casual reads as disrespectful and formal reads as cold. The note to your kid's school. The message to your landlord about rent arriving late, where the tone is doing more work than the words are.

Japanese carries a second layer alongside the words: who outranks whom, how well you know each other, how much distance the moment calls for. That layer is close to invisible if you didn't grow up inside it. And getting it wrong costs more than a moment of embarrassment. It can cost trust you spent months earning.

We built Veltone because we kept running into this ourselves. In meeting rooms, in group chats, in ordinary life here.

Veltone takes what you'd say in English and writes it in Japanese that fits the moment: a formal proposal to a client, a quick reply to a teammate, a polite note to a neighbor, a casual text to a friend.

You set the tone. You say who you're writing to. You get one confident answer back, rather than five options that leave you less sure than when you started.

Each translation comes with a short note on why the phrasing works. You end up copying less and recognizing more, and after a few weeks the choices start to feel like your own.

Anyone who lives and works in Japan and writes in Japanese. You might be an engineer sending business email, a manager handling client relationships, a consultant writing up meeting notes, a parent emailing a school, a tenant writing to a landlord, or someone who wants their texts to sound like a person wrote them.

Work is where we started, because that is where the cost of getting tone wrong is highest and where nobody tells you that you got it wrong. Everything else it handles the same way.

You don't need to be fluent. You need the message to land the way you meant it.