Chapter Text
This place again. The dim lighting in the hall, only light source being the moon that shined through the window. He hadn't liked how you had grown rebellious recently. Less willing to do as he said. Not wanting to keep dying over, and over, and over again. Now here you lay as he kicked and wacked at your beaten and bloody body.
He wasn't going to kill you. He knew it did no good. It kept going and going, then footsteps outside the door that led to the hall. The buzzing of your morning alarm jolted you from your slumber.
You looked around the small bedroom in your small apartment. The sun peeked through the curtains and shined directly into your eyes, making you wince. You groaned as you rolled onto your side to avoid the sun shining into your face.
Another night of having relived those memories in your dreams. It had been almost three years since that day, but scars don't tend to heal quickly or neatly. You knew that the memories would probably haunt you for quite a while.
You reluctantly sat up in your bed, the sheets falling around your waist. You ran your hand over your face and sighed. You stared at the white wall for a few minutes before you slid out of the bed to get ready for the day ahead.
-
You walked up the stairs to the Dective Agency. Technically you didn't work there. You were mainly a voluntary helper. Three years ago you swore to repay the Agency's president for the rest of your life by doing whatever he needed. He only asked for either small favors or help on more tame cases when the agency was too busy.
You could have officially joined the agency by now. The job had been offered to you multiple times. You just couldn't bring yourself to be in the awkward position of working under the person you had grown a... fondness for.
In a sense it would be no different than what you were doing now, except it would be less even ground. Currently you had the position to decline any request for help he gave you. You could even choose to not even show up at the Agency. It's not like your promise was official. Just something you silently told yourself after waking up on the agency couch, bandaged, and being cared for by the silver-haired man.
If you were to work for him, it would mean you had less say on what you did. It would no longer be of your desire to assist him, but because you had do do what your boss instructed you to. Your feelings towards him would be even more inappropriate than they were currently.
You pushed the door open to reveal the normal chaos of the office. It doesn't even faze you to see this anymore after years of witnessing it. You step in, close the door behind you, and head straight for the President's office like most mornings.
"President Fukuzawa?" You called out as you stepped inside his office. The silver-haired man behind the desk looked up from the paperwork he had been working on. He set the pen he had been holding down.
"(L/N). Good morning," he said.
How you wished he would just use your given name. You longed to hear the day he would stop calling you by your family name, or at the very least, slip up and call you "(Y/N)". You would never admit this out loud. Honestly, you wanted none of your feelings to come to light if you could have it that way.
"Good morning. I wanted to see if you needed any help today," you did this every morning.
Most times he would either decline help or ask you to do small favors, like getting Ranpo his snacks or help tidy the agency a bit.
His blue eyes glanced at the pile of paperwork beside him, then back to you. There was a hesitance before he spoke that didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Actually, there is something you can help with. Can you sort theses by urgency? I need to know what can be put off and which needs to be done quickly. I would have Haruno do it, but she's out sick."
You were ecstatic. This was perfect. Not because of the job itself, but because you would be, for the most part, alone with him in his office. Guilt filled you at the fact you were so pleased by this. It's not like you expected or wished for anything to happen. All you wanted was to be around him, no matter what the two of you were doing.
You agreed and started working on sorting the papers. Every once in a while you'd glance at Fukuzawa. The way the light from the windows hit his face almost made your heart ache. You shook away the thought. This isn't why you were here. You shouldn't even be feeling this way towards him. Yet you do.
You sorted the papers into a few different piles. One by papers that were over a week old. Another was for the papers that seemed important. The last pile was for the rest.
Fukuzawa would occasionally glance at you as you worked. At one point your eyes locked with his. He seemed at least a little embarrassed and quickly looked away. Then the glances stopped.
The two of you continued to work in silence. Your eyes eventually started to tired, but you forced yourself to stay awake.