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"Come on, just a few more!"
"That's the third time you've been saying that! How many times is 'a few'? The number of times you search for 'Asaba Harumasa' in your search history?"
Above the group of girls, the drone descends from the nearest floors of the HAND headquarters. How many times has the same thing been repeated; Even they lost count. They didn't even know how they could maintain the tension of some guard catching them—again—at any moment.
The reason, simple and nothing out of the ordinary: To know a little more about how his acclaimed heroes of Section 6 handled daily life. It wouldn't hurt to get to know them a little more closely, right?
The fact that they were behind the building taking photos of the possible floors where their idols could be working, for almost twenty minutes, was not their fault. They were only able to see them again in the second floor hallway. A few days ago it was their collaboration for the development of the new VR system.
The problem: they had only a pair of photos that were not so much distinguishable due to the lack of control over the drone, 'cause to the nerves of being caught. Well, having a picture of the little Oni stealing her partners' lunch leftovers, while looking on the sly around was something.
Even so, with the time they had been in, their greatest objective was so close and yet so far:
Where the hell did Harumasa go?
"We are not here to tell on me. It's just we are so close. How much can an acclaimed idol, allergic to work, do in his office hours?"
"Sleep secretly from his coworkers?"
With an crushing argument, no one disagreed, with affirmations from each one. Some have their methods to... Learn more closely about the customs of their idols, eh.
"Speaking of it, we haven't seen Miss Tsukishiro either. Maybe she's giving him some reprimand... Honestly, she seems more like the leader of the group, with all due respect to the acclaimed Miyabi." The only boy in the group intervened, with clear favoritism towards the deputy chief. "I'm envious that he can be so close to her..."
"Are you now part of her recently formed fan group?" She raises an eyebrow "Uhh, nevermind. You'll be able to see her up close if you cooperate a little here. But first, help find Asaba. Try to climb a few more floors." The insistent girl snaps, handing him the control.
"Why me? You're the ones who want pictures of him."
"Because the drone is yours. If we accidentally crash it into the walls or it hits a bird, you would blame us." His friend argues with her crossed arms "Also, did you want to see Yanagi or not?"
Faced with blackmail and looks of evil innocence from his friends, he found himself cornered. The fans and their methods.
"Fine. But this doesn't make me complicit of that weird doujins that you'll make with these photos."
"Don't worry, we'll send you a courtesy copy."
The absolutely disturbed look of the tallest satisfies their evil.
Searching for an organization's elite people in an absurdly large building is more tedious than they would like. And having to lower the drone towards them to see each photo... At least, they have admirable perseverance. Not to call it by a more questionable term.
However, it still did not bear fruit. In one, there was an unusually small figure—Miyabi, who else—standing in the corner of a meeting room door, trying hard not to fall asleep. Her floppy ears as big as her boredom. How many lazy people were on this team?
"Miyabi is so dedicated. She must be mentally mastering her combat techniques." Nah, that should be more logical.
The rest were not lucky. They make out Soukaku again, smiling evilly while holding an Asaba doll—some gift from a fan—and a black marker in her other hand. The right eye had a drawn patch and exaggerated fangs in the mouth; surely a replacement for the real one, who was probably her victim when he was asleep at his desk.
Desk which still had no trace of him.
"Why is it still empty? There's been no one there for a while now!" Frustration begins to fill them.
The boy, with a snort, suggests: "What if he's still on his lunch break?"
"I don't think so. The leftover food is already in the box of his table. With how much time has passed, he should be back by now."
"It's worth a try."
They follow the path they remember from their other attempts, where the cafeteria might be. There is nothing.
A desperate situation; except for the area in the background of the photo with an unusually small circular window. Bingo.
But as quickly as they could have that precious treasure:
"You guys again? Let Mr. Asaba breathe for once!"
"May those legs be useful for something!"
The guard from last time discovers them doing their thing. No one thinks twice: run.
When they manage to leave the headquarters, without anyone rolling or stumbling along the way—they hope so; they don't have the courage to check it, anyway—they breathe heavily, refusing the possible failure.
"How beautiful deja vu..."
"But this time we really have to get something!"
"To hell with the photos. Tell me the connection reaches this distance."
The boy tries to attract the drone, and to the joy of his wallet, it returns. As if it were not enough to have escaped in time, fortune pursues them when they find the last photo on the camera. That slacker was there the whole time!
One of the girls snorts. "Well, yeah, we finally found it. But it's a little diffuse, and it's not even so..."
The zoom on the image leaves the word shattered in the air. Yanagi was there too: two birds with one shot...
That is what they would think to then immediately try to approach the building again. Now, imagine their petrified faces and jaws paying a visit to the floor when they see them on one of the couch in the room... sharing some overly compromising superior-subordinate, 'quality time'.
Since when is sitting on your subordinate with a lipstick in your hand and fill his face with kisses part of the routine?
Well, yeah—you could see it as a perspective error or something of the sort, but the image is clear enough. Mr. Asaba's face of absolute satisfaction doesn't help either. Oh...
"Well, in the end, it of course is surprising... The lunch is him." They all turn towards the tallest guy with looks of death. He was just trying to break the tension!
At least they can believe that, with the 'lucky' they are so far, the drone won't have crashed into the glass to alert them or worse. With how busy they are...
"Did you hear that?" Yanagi exalted, separating her chest from a more than comfortable Harumasa on one of the sofas in her private break room. She brushed her lips painted red with her fingertips, looking intently at the glass where the noise came from.
Asaba turned his head, uninterested and frustrated that the moment was broken. He presses the flesh of the woman's thighs over him, on either side of his lap, as if wanting her attention again.
"I don't know, I didn't hear anything. Maybe it's my desire to work running away." He smiles innocently, running his hands tantalizingly up her skirt to her waist, sinking her deeper into his lap with a cheeky squeeze.
"Asaba, I'm serious." Yanagi sighs because he downplays it; and for his attempt to have her attention again. If she was affected by his tempting touch, she doesn't show it—or tries hard not to.
"It's probably nothing! It's not like a drone came to spy on us out of nowhere and crashed because it got too close." He argues, wanting to persuade her.
"And it's not unusual for that to happen.. What if they've seen us? What a stir there would be among the admirers, and maybe the press. You know how... Intense your fans can be."
"What does the press care about our intimate life? Just because we are co-workers doesn't mean we can't enjoy of 'us'. Besides, the situation isn't even that obvious." Harumasa shrugged, his expression most carefree.
She fulminates him with the gaze from above; Clenches the fingers between his jaw and his hair. Seeing his face covered in red spots, with the shape of her lips impregnated—perhaps too marked, and, God, in his mouth—on every part of his skin, is enough to contradict him. Despite remaining serious, a deep blush slowly covers her the more she becomes aware of her 'work of art'.
"Are you cornering me to have to state the obvious...?"
Haru denies with his hands "Noooo... Maybe. It wouldn't be bad to make me a image of what my face looks like thanks to you..."
"Harumasa!"
"Okay, okay!" He feels fear when see her separate a little. But he manages to hold her on her shoulders, not without a sigh between resignation and shame from Yanagi "Sooo... You won't give me any more...?"
She hates herself for melting just a little at his damn pleading, wanting face, that shameless attempt at imitating Soukaku. His silly, beautiful golden orbs that now drive her crazy too.
Even so, she refuses to give him the victory so easy, her face serene as always; in view of a bigger challenge, he has to strive more hard... It's just that when he really strives seriously, it's absurdly efficient.
And when she has him in front of her, perforating her gaze with his, almost devouring her—despite the absurd and satisfying image of his stained face—the respected deputy chief falls resoundingly into her boyfriend's clutches. As if he's were extending her an order of red bean buns.
"Nagi...? Did the bugs eat your tongue before I could do it...?" The slow use of that nickname, so different hearing it from his lips parted than from her little Oni, broke down whatever defenses she had left. His indiscreet insinuation made her shudder.
Yanagi inhales deeply.
"J-Just... Just a little while more." Haru smiles when seeing her rosy cheeks. "Lunch time is almost over, and I don't want you to slack off afterwards." She murmurs, giving in a little to her own affectionate side.
"At your service, my lady!"
The supposed discretion that they wanted to maintain for the moment, would be shattered as soon as they entered in the Inter-Knot in a few hours. And then, a scream high-pitched and another very manly—seriously—, would echo like an exotic chant from the offices of Section 6.
Nosy fans...