Rafta's grin widened. He leaned in slightly, their faces now close enough that he could feel her breath. "Only on one condition—"
Before he could finish, a sharp fist crashed straight into his face.
The impact sent him flying backward, chair scraping against the floor as he landed with a heavy thud.
Oki caught the falling paper mid-air, her expression unreadable. "You've been pissing me off since this morning. Babbling about whatever nonsense comes to your mind." She exhaled sharply, stuffing the paper back into her file.
Rafta sat up, rubbing his sore jaw with a dazed chuckle. "Damn. Did you make some kind of contract with the King of Hell? You're always burning like hellfire."
Oki didn't respond. She stood still for a moment, her expression unreadable, then murmured softly under her breath. "You idiot."
With that, she turned and walked out of the café.
Rafta watched her go, his usual smirk returning. Just as she reached the door, he noticed something—just for a split second—a small glimmer at the corner of her eye.
A tear.
He rested his chin in his palm, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Well, well… look at that."
And with that, he took another bite of his sandwich, lost in thought.
The rooftop was quiet. A light breeze carried the scent of warm lunch. Haari leaned against the railing, biting into his sandwich as he gazed at the sky. His expression was thoughtful, but not his usual carefree kind.
"Nicawa-san," he said, voice low, "don't you feel like something's off?"
Ashi, perched at a small table nearby, nearly choked on her rice, chopsticks clattering. "Huh? Really?" She gaped at her lunchbox, panic flashing. ""But I prepared our lunches at the same time! How did I mess up yours? Is there not enough salt? Did I forget something—"
Haari waved a hand, cutting her spiral short, a grin tugging his lips. "I'm not talking about the food. It's perfect, as always."
Ashi blinked, then flicked her eyes away, cheeks dusting pink. "Oh," she mumbled, poking at her rice like it might explain itself.
"I meant the department," Haari clarified, taking another bite, chewing slow as he stared out.
Ashi's brows knit, her fluster fading into a frown. "What about it?"
He swallowed, scratching his head with his free hand. "Haven't you noticed? It's been unusually quiet these days."
She paused, chopsticks hovering, her mind rewinding. Now that he said it—the office had shifted. "Yeah…" she said, slow. " Habi-san has been busier than usual, and Densi-san—well, he's still slacking off, but Habi-san doesn't even yell at him anymore."
"Right?" Haari nodded, leaning heavier on the rail."Yeah, usually she yells at him and drags him back to work, but now she doesn't seem to care about whatever Rafta's up to,"Haari said, scratching his head. "You think something happened between them?"
Ashi tapped her chin, chopsticks dangling, her gaze drifting as she mused. "Maybe… but it's normal for them to fight all the time, like—"
Their eyes met, popping wide as the same wild thought hit like a lightning bolt. "Like they're a couple," they said together, voices crashing in perfect sync, the breeze swallowing the echo.
The idea dangled there, ridiculous yet weirdly plausible, a cartoonish image flickering in their heads—Oki in a power suit, Rafta with his coffee, bickering over toast. Then, just as fast, the bubble burst. Their shoulders slumped, faces scrunching.
"Nah nah " Haari said, shaking his head like he could fling the thought off the roof. "Never. Not in a million years."
"Yeah," Ashi chimed in, nodding sharp, " a hard-working, determined person like Habi-san..."
"…and a lazy slacker like Rafta?" Haari finished. "There's no way those two would ever—"
"Doesn't add up," Ashi said, slicing the air with her chopsticks like she could cut the theory down. "Oil and water—more like oil and a dumpster fire."
Haari snorted, leaning on the rail. "Exactly. She'd murder him before the first date."
Ashi grinned, then sobered, her chopsticks pausing mid-air. A quiet settled, the breeze tugging at their hair. "…So what is going on?" Haari muttered, staring out
Ashi leaned forward, elbows on the table, a sly glint sparking in her eyes. "Let's find out," she said, voice low and daring, like a detective in a caper flick.
Haari looked at Ashi, food halfway to his mouth. And then look forward, didn't say anything.
They ditched the rooftop, the breeze fading behind them as they slipped back into the department. The air felt off—too still—until their eyes snagged on Rafta. He hovered near Oki's desk, hunched over it with a villainous smirk, like a cartoon crook twirling a mustache.
Haari and Ashi dove behind a partition, peeking out like kids spying on a prank. "Kichiro-san," Ashi hissed, barely audible, "what's Densi-san up to?"
"How should I know?" Haari whispered back, craning his neck. "Let's just wait and see."
Rafta's grin widened, downright diabolical, as he fiddled with something on Oki's desk—his fingers quick, sneaky. Haari and Ashi swapped a look, eyebrows shooting up.
"Whatever he's planning…" they murmured in sync, voices a hushed duet, "I bet it's not good."
Break time ticked out, and they slunk back to their desks, eyes glued to Oki's spot. Rafta had vanished—poof, like smoke. The office hummed normal, oblivious.
Then Oki strode in, all business, her heels clicking a steady beat. She marched to her desk, yanked a file from the stack, and—
A shriek ripped through the room. Oki leapt back, eyes popping wide, pure terror twisting her face as she flailed, nearly toppling her chair.
Haari and Ashi froze at their desks, jaws dropping. Then they spotted him—Rafta, lurking just behind her, still as a statue, that grin plastered on like he'd won the lottery.
They locked eyes, dread pooling. "No…" Haari whispered, voice tight, "what the hell's he doing?"
Ashi's breath hitched, her pen trembling. "Kichiro-san… this is bad. Real bad."
Oki's scream hung in the air, the office snapping to a halt, eyes on her—and Rafta, the chaos gremlin, basking in his masterpiece.
"What happened?" Rafta's voice growled low, a rumble slinking from behind Oki as she stood rigid, still reeling from her first scream.
She turned slow, breath hitching, only to meet a nightmare—Rafta's face inches away, swallowed by a grotesque monster mask, all jagged teeth and hollow eyes. Her heart slammed to a stop.
"Boo," he rasped, voice dripping with mock doom.
"AAAAAHHHHHH!" Oki's scream tore loose, shrill and wild, her arms flailing as she stumbled back. Her heel snagged, and she crashed to the floor—thud—papers exploding around her like a blizzard of fallen leaves, her chair skidding sideways.
Rafta loomed over her, mask still on, tilting his head with a theatrical growl. "What's wrong, Oki? You were saying something?" His voice boomed deep, distorted, a villain straight out of a B-movie.
The office went dead silent, a collective breath held—Haari and Ashi gaping from their desks, pens frozen mid-air, the air thick with dread.
Then—
"RAFTAAAAA!" Oki's roar shattered the hush, her fists balling tight, knuckles white. She scrambled up, papers crunching under her knees, her glare a furnace of fury. The mask didn't faze her now—pure rage burned through, her whole frame trembling with it.
Rafta, flung his arms wide, voice booming like a discount supervillain. "Ha haha ha! Foolish mortal! I've possessed this puny human shell! Soon, I'll reign as Lord of this world, and all the beauties will bow to me! YAAAHAHAHA!" His laugh cackled through the office, wild and unhinged.
Haari blinked from his desk, head tilting. "…Really, Rafta? Even in your big act, you're still obsessed with the ladies?"
Rafta spun to him, eyes blazing, voice dropping to a guttural growl. "I AM, SUAAR!" He thrust a fist skyward, posing like a conqueror.
Ashi and Haari swapped a glance, brows furrowing. "…Did he just say 'Suaar'?" Ashi muttered, squinting.
"No idea," Haari shrugged, half-grinning. "Sounds like it."
Rafta faltered, mid-pose, scratching his head. "Wait… hold up, what name did I pick again?" he mumbled, breaking character, his villainous aura fizzling.
Oki, though, had zero patience for his crisis. Her fist was already cocked, a missile locked on. CRASH! She slammed it into his chest, sending him sprawling to the floor with a yelp, papers fluttering around him like confetti.
But she wasn't done. Oki loomed, fists raining down—thwack, thud—a merciless storm, her face a mask of cold rage. Rafta flailed under the barrage, arms shielding his head, grunting with each hit.
Haari and Ashi watched from their desks, heads bobbing in sync. "Well," Haari said, leaning back with a stretch, "looks like things are finally back to normal."
Ashi hesitated, wincing as Oki landed another blow. "Yeah, but… Kichiro-san, do you think Densi-san going to be okay? Shouldn't we stop her?"
"Nah," Haari said, smirking, arms folding behind his head. "He's fine—tough as a cockroach."
"But—" Ashi started, eyes flicking to Rafta, who was still eating punches.
"Trust me," Haari cut in, "this is his daily life routine."
Ashi squinted, leaning closer. Rafta's arms dropped for a second, revealing—yep—a faint, goofy smile curling his lips amidst the pummeling. "…Wait," she said, voice flat with disbelief, "is he enjoying this?"
Haari chuckled, low and knowing. "Wouldn't be the first time. Guy's a freak—thrives on it."
Ashi stared, then shook her head, a reluctant grin sneaking out. "Unbelievable."
The office hummed on, Oki's fists slowing as Rafta wheezed a laugh, the day rolling back to its usual rhythm like nothing had exploded.
The day had bled out, the office a hollow shell as Haari shuffled toward home, his bag thumping against his hip. The hall was dim, the restroom door ahead cracked open, a faint glow seeping through. He slowed, a prickle of curiosity nudging him closer. He edged to the gap, silent as a shadow, and peeked in—then froze, eyes ballooning, breath snagging in his throat.
Oki knelt behind Rafta, her fingers smearing balm over his back—raw and mottled with bruises from her earlier fury. Her voice was low, frayed at the edges. "Idiot," she said, rubbing slow, "why'd you pull that dumb stunt? You know how it gets me."
Rafta, shirt rucked up, grimaced but flashed a lopsided grin. "Couldn't stand seeing our fearless leader all mopey—had to jolt you outta it." He sucked a breath as her touch pressed a tender spot. "Ouch—overdid it, though. Ease up, yeah? I'm not invincible."
"You scared the hell outta me," Oki snapped, but her voice wobbled, hands trembling as they slowed. "That mask—I thought you'd gone too far this time. Thought I'd…" She trailed off, swallowing hard, eyes glinting wet.
"Ow—hey, slow down!" Rafta yelped, then chuckled, soft and rough. "Sorry, Oki—I'm still kicking. Takes more than a beatdown to flatten me."
Oki's hands froze, a thick silence cloaking them. Rafta twisted, peering back, brow creasing. "What's up? You okay?"
Then—sudden, raw—she lunged forward, arms wrapping him from behind, squeezing tight. Haari's jaw dropped, heart jackhammering, the sight slamming him like a freight train. Oki hugging Rafta? Her face buried into his back, shoulders hitching, a choked sob breaking loose. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice splintering, tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm so damn sorry—I didn't mean to hurt you that bad. I just… I lost it."
Rafta stiffened, then softened, turning in her grip. "Hey, hey—what's with the crying?" he said, voice gentle, almost foreign coming from him. "I'm fine, see? Bruised, not broken." She ducked her head, eyes sliding away, tears carving tracks down her cheeks. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. "C'mon, since when do you go weak on me? You're Oki Habi—tough as nails. You knnow I don't like this soggy version of yours."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, swiping at her face with a shaky hand, tears smudging the balm on her fingers. "I just—seeing you like that, I thought…"
Their eyes locked, a quiet current sparking. Rafta's grin faded, replaced by something steady, unguarded. Her breath hitched, his hand lingered on her chin. Their faces drifted closer—slow, inevitable—lips a whisper apart, the air humming with unspoken weight.
Haari's chest seized. No. Nope. Can't watch this. He jerked back, stumbling from the door, heart racing like it might burst. He bolted down the hall, shoes slapping tile, bursting out into the night. The cool air stung his lungs, but it couldn't slow the chaos in his head. "That was a dream," he rasped, half-running down the street, streetlights blurring past. "I'm hallucinating—stress, yeah, that's it. No way that's real. Habi-san crying? Rafta… soft? That can't—won't—nope." His hands raked through his hair, tugging hard, as if he could yank the image out. "They're oil and fire—cat and dog—not that. Just… no."
He stopped, panting, leaning against a lamppost, the scene replaying—Oki's sobs, Rafta's steady gaze, that almost-kiss. His stomach twisted, mind reeling. "What the hell did I just see?" he muttered, voice cracking, the world tilting under his feet.