Ashi stood by the railing, gazing out at the city sprawl, lost in thought—until Haari's hand thwacked the back of her head, light but firm. She jolted, spinning. "Huh? Kichiro-san! Why did you hit me?" she turned abruptly, rubbing the spot where she had been hit.
Haari took a sip from the can in his hand, his gaze fixed ahead. "Don't do that again."
"Huh?" Ashi blinked, confused.
Haari sighed, shifting his stance. "If you're having some kind of problem, overworking yourself and keeping silent won't solve anything. If you think drowning yourself in work will make it go away, you're wrong. It'll only make things worse."
Ashi stared at him, taken aback by his words.
He turned to her, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "You can come to me, Rafta, and Habi-san. Tell us what's wrong, and we'll figure it out together." His eyes softened as he spoke. "We're friends, after all."
Warmth bloomed in her chest—sharp, sudden, like her grandma's old hugs but different, brighter. Friends. The thing she'd chased since she was a kid, right here. Her cheeks tinged pink, and she closed her eyes, smiling soft. "Yeah… I will."
Haari's phone buzzed, snapping him back"Oh, the break time is about to over. I should head downstairs," He tipped the can back, finishing it. ". And you should eat your lunch before time runs out?"
Ashi didn't move from her spot, instead pulling out her lunchbox and taking a seat at a small table nearby. "Kichiro-san, let's eat together," she said casually, gesturing for him to join her.
Haari froze mid-step and turned around, his eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? But_it's your lunch."
"Don't worry," Ashi insisted, opening the container and pushing it slightly toward him. "I have plenty to share."
"But!" Haari began, hesitation clear on his face. "Are you sure? I didn't want to intrude…"
"Of course! It's more fun to share lunch with a friend. Come on!" Ashi said with a bright smile.
Haari scratched the back of his head again, clearly torn. "But still…"
Ashi raised an eyebrow, her tone playful. "Why is it that you can hang out with friends and go to parties, but you can't share lunch with me?"
Haari froze, his face heating up again. "You… You know that was a lie, right?" he said sheepishly, glancing away.
Ashi chuckled softly. "Are we friends or not, Kichiro-san?"
Her words hit him like a curveball. Haari blinked, his edges softening. "Friends?" he said, voice catching. "Yeah, of course we're friends." He nodded, quick and sure, like he was sealing a pact.
"Then eat with me," Ashi said, nudging the lunchbox closer, rice and curry steaming between them. "Break's ticking."
Haari wavered, then caved, plopping into the seat with a slouch. His stomach growled loud enough to betray him, eyes locked on the food—neat little piles of veggies, a dollop of sauce. He grabbed a spoon, still awkward, like he wasn't sure he belonged there.
Ashi's laugh bubbled up, bright and easy. " You really are hungry, Kichiro-san?"
His face went pink, hand flying to rub the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah—maybe," he mumbled, ducking his head. "Didn't eat breakfast. Kinda ran out the door."
"Explains the growl," she teased, popping a bite into her mouth. "Dig in before it's cold."
Haari scooped a bite of curry and rice, the warm spice hitting his tongue as he chewed. Ashi's eyes were on him like a security cam—unblinking, sparkling, tracking every move. He glanced up mid-bite, spoon hovering. "Uh… Nicawa-san, you gonna eat or just stare?"
"How is it?" she fired back, dodging his question, her gaze still locked tight.
"Hmm? What?" Haari blinked, thrown off, a grain of rice stuck to his lip.
She didn't flinch, just kept that steady, expectant glare. He held her look for a second, then it clicked. "Oh—the food? It's great. Seriously good. Been ages since I had anything this tasty." He grinned, scooping another bite, relaxed now.
Ashi's cheeks went pink. She flicked her eyes to the table, mumbling, "Is that so?" barely audible, fingers fiddling with her chopsticks.
"Yeah," Haari said, leaning forward, voice lighting up. "Like, this is next-level, Nicawa-san. You've got magic hands or something—beats my sad instant noodles by a mile."
Her lips quirked, then bloomed into a small, real smile, soft and unguarded. "Thanks, Kichiro-san," she said, tucking a stray hair back, the flush lingering like a quiet glow.
Evening crept in, the office thinning out. Ashi zipped her bag, tossing a quick "See ya, Kichiro-san" over her shoulder as she headed out. A few steps down the hall, she paused, turned, and hit him with a smile—bright, sudden, like a flash of sun.
Haari's eyes popped wide. His heart tripped, thudding hard, and a faint red crept up his face. He stood rooted, jaw slack, breath snagged somewhere in his chest.
Rafta pounced, slinging an arm over Haari's shoulder, grinning like a fox. "Well, look at you—someone's all sparkly today," he teased, voice dripping with glee. "So what's the story, huh?"
Haari flinched, shrugging him off. "Get lost, you gremlin," he muttered, cheeks still hot. "There's no story. Just… lunch."
"Lunch?" Rafta barked a laugh, leaning in, his nose bandage catching the light. "That dopey grin's not 'lunch.' You and Nicawa-san swapping love notes over curry or what?"
"Shut it," Haari growled, but it wobbled, his bag swinging as he shoved past. "She shared food. That's it."
"Uh-huh," Rafta said, tailing him to the door, undeterred. "Food doesn't turn you into a tomato. Bet she packed it just for you—little heart stickers on the rice, right?"
Haari groaned, pushing into the cool evening air. "You're insane. It's not a thing."
"Sure it's not," Rafta said, clapping his back with a cackle. "Next, you're holding hands on the subway. Invite me to the big day—I'll bring confetti."
"Dream on," Haari shot back, but a tiny smirk slipped free, trailing him as Rafta's laugh bounced down the street.
Next Day
Haari hefted a teetering stack of files, arms straining as he shuffled toward the elevator. "Huh, Nicawa-san—you headed somewhere?"
Ashi glanced over, her own folder tucked under her arm. "Oh, Kichiro-san—where you off to?"
"Submitting these downstairs," he said, nodding at the pile. "You?"
"Same floor, some work to drop off," she replied, stepping closer.
"Cool, let's ride together then," Haari said, flashing a quick grin.
"Yeah," Ashi nodded, and they slipped into the elevator side by side.
The doors slid shut, the hum kicking in—then jolted to a stop at the next floor. They parted, revealing two coworkers waiting. One guy's breath hitched, eyes popping wide as he locked onto Haari. His hands twitched, trembling—he was the same dude Haari had iced out with that death-glare days ago, when Rafta was out cold.
"Uh—let's take the stairs," he blurted, backing up fast.
"What?" His friend frowned, glancing between him and the elevator. "We're already late, man."
"No, no, we've got time!" the guy insisted, voice pitching up. "Sitting all day—don't you feel stiff? Stairs'll loosen us up, c'mon!" He waved a shaky hand as the doors started closing. "Have a nice day, sir!"
"Hey, wait—" his friend protested, but the doors sealed shut, the elevator lurching downward.
Ashi tilted her head, eyeing Haari. "What was that about?"
Haari didn't answer—couldn't. Sweatong all over, his grip tightening on the files. Did he recognize me? Crap, if he says anything… His mind raced, pulse hammering.
The elevator kept dropping, stopping at every floor. People piled in—suits, chatter, briefcases—until it was a sardine can, no room to breathe. Ashi stood in front of Haari, facing him, her back edging closer as the crowd shoved. Her shoulder brushed his chest, and he saw her wince, pressed too tight.
Without thinking, Haari moved—sliding past her in one quick step, nudging her into the corner. He planted himself between her and the mob, files hugged to her chest, facing the sea of shoulders.
"Wha—" Ashi's voice caught, half a gasp.
"It's fine, don't worry," he said, voice low, steady, though his ears were pink.
Ashi blinked up at him, her breath hitching. His back was a wall now—broad, solid, shielding her from the crush. The heat of the packed space faded as her corner felt… safe. Her eyes softened, a flicker of surprise melting into something warmer, quieter. "Kichiro-san…" she murmured, barely audible, her lips parting like she wanted to say more but couldn't find it.
He didn't look back—just stood there, chin up, sweat still glistening on his neck. But her gaze lingered, tracing the line of his jaw, the way he didn't flinch. Her chest tightened, a soft glow spreading inside—gratitude, sure, but laced with something new, something she couldn't name yet. She pressed a hand to the wall, steadying herself, and let a tiny, crooked smile slip free.
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to the department floor—a hum of chatter, rustling papers, and the faint whirr of a printer. Haari stepped out, files still teetering in his arms, Ashi at his side. She peeled off toward her contact's desk, folder in hand, while Haari headed for his drop-off.
"Senpai!" Ane popped up from her chair like a jack-in-the-box, eyes lighting up as she spotted Haari. Her ponytail bounced, papers scattering across her desk in her rush.
Ashi paused mid-step, glancing back just as Haari set the stack down with a grunt. "Hey, Ane," he said, wiping his brow. "Yeah, sorry—another mountain for you."
"No, no, it's my job!" Ane chirped, waving it off, her grin wide. "And thanks again for last time—you totally saved my bacon. I'd have been toast without you!"
Haari shrugged, scratching his neck. "No big deal, really."
Ashi lingered at her spot across the room, handing over her file but stealing glances their way. Her chest tightened—a sharp, sudden pinch—as Ane's voice bubbled over Haari like fizzy soda. Saved her?
"And—oh!" Haari snapped his fingers, digging into his pocket. "I owe you one, too. Found my ID card, all thanks to you."
Ane beamed, leaning on her desk. "So you got it back? Awesome!"
"Yeah," Haari said, pulling it out—a battered little card with his awkward photo. "Would've been a nightmare without it. You're a lifesaver."
"Senpai, gimme your number!" Ane blurted, hands clasping like she'd just had a genius idea.
Ashi's breath hitched. Her folder slipped an inch in her grip, eyes widening as she watched. Her number? The pinch in her chest twisted, a flicker of something—jealousy? unease?—curling tight.
"Huh?" Haari blinked, thrown. "My number? What for?"
Ane tilted her head, grinning sly. "C'mon, if I'd had it last time, I could've called you about the ID—saved us both the runaround. Plus, it's no harm, right? I'll give you mine, too—fair trade!"
Haari hesitated, then shrugged. "Uh, sure, I guess." He fished out his phone, thumbing it open. "What's yours?"
"Sweet!" Ane rattled off her digits, bouncing on her toes as Haari tapped them in. "And yours, Senpai—go!"
He recited his number, slow and a little sheepish, while Ane punched it into her own phone with a triumphant "Gotcha!" She winked. "Now we're set. Next time you lose something—or save me again—I'll just ring you up. Maybe grab coffee as a thank-you?"
Haari's ears went pink. "Coffee? Uh, maybe—let's not jinx it with more lost stuff, yeah?"
Ashi turned back to her contact, forcing a nod at whatever they were saying, but her jaw was tight. Ane's giggle grated in her ears, and Haari's easy laugh didn't help. She shoved her folder into the guy's hands a little too hard, muttering, "Here, done." Her eyes flicked back—Haari was still grinning, Ane leaning closer. The twist in her chest flared, sharp and hot, and she gripped her pen like it might snap. Why does that bug me?
Back to their own department.
Ashi sank into her chair, her mind stuck on rewind—Haari's easy grin, Ane's bubbly "Senpai, gimme your number!" playing over and over. She let out a deep breath, slumping forward, elbows on the table.
"Okay, Ashi, think straight," she muttered, voice low so no one'd catch her talking to herself. "Kichiro-san's always nice to everyone—helps everyone, right? So it's natural for him have tons of friends. And Ane's new, just a junior—barely knows the anything. It's normal he'd look out for her. Totally normal."
She nodded, like she could convince herself by force. Her pen tapped faster, then stopped. "Yeah, he's just… being him," she added, quieter, trying to shake it off. "Nothing weird about that."