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Artem stared at the floor in dismay, vision frozen as the thick rice porridge globbed across floor and countertop alike. Shards of glass dappled the soiled meal nearly as frequently as the scallions and ginger originally piled on top.
He felt his throat tighten at the sight, his movements slowing as he settled into a staring stillness. The mess of his former breakfast stared back at him, dripping from blown-out container across his polished marble.
The phlegm dripping down the back of his throat snapped him out of his reverie, his lips shifting into a near pout. He must have grown careless in his hurry, scooping the reheated congee into the cold glass container without another thought, forgetting the risk of shattering. On a better morning, he would have warmed the container in water so the temperature difference wouldn’t have been so stark.
But this morning wasn’t a better morning. This morning, he woke up far, far later than his schedule allowed, leaving no choice but to run through his morning tasks as fast as he could. He was lucky, he thought, to have prepared a large batch of congee a few days prior, worried about the impending flu season already affecting his juniors… yet the one morning he wakes to scratchiness in his throat brings with it the final serving going uneaten.
Armed with paper towel alone, he had no choice but to clean up his mess quickly and hope for a food stall along the way to work.
By the time his tires squeaked to a wet stop the morning rain had crawled its rivulets across the parking garage, dripping water into large puddles wherever the asphalt saw fit to dip. 8:46 A.M.
The visage of the coffee pot waiting in the staff pantry called out to him as he grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, the warmth enticing against the cold gust of air when his car door flung open. Even the yóutiáo he grabbed along the way was growing cold and he couldn’t help but childishly yearn for something warm.
With his breakfast in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he angled his body to close the door behind him with his elbow. His bag, tenderly used with years of care, found itself clipped between the door and the car as he turned to begin walking and unceremoniously ripped at the handle before falling into an unfortunately placed puddle just beneath the car.
Artem nearly cried out as he knelt to pick the fallen bag up, though he himself didn’t know if it was from surprise or frustration. A small charm carried alongside his files had skittered out from within the bag, sliding several inches away under his car. He was lucky to have spotted it, though unlucky in the sense that it took damage in the form of minor scratches. He attempted to clean some of the dirt now on it off as he slipped it back into the bag before tucking the soaked case under his arm and hurrying inside.
The quiet click of his office door behind him sounded like peace at last. He set his load down atop his desk and turned on his PC before quickly stripping off his suit jacket and hanging it to dry. It, along with his shoes and socks, ended up completely soaked during his short walk to the elevator. Not only did the garage apparently have leaks eager to drip mercilessly with cold January storms, but a group of officeworkers who worked elsewhere in the building all but burst out of the elevator just as he approached, startling him backwards and directly into one of many puddles.
A heavy breath escaped him as he finally sat down, taking a moment to compose himself. The coffee he fetched along the walk to his office was pleasantly warm, holding it with both hands like a lifeline.
8:54 A.M. The fastest way, he figured, to get back on schedule opened with checking his emails. He sat forward in his seat, coughing into his elbow, before pulling open his inbox and quickly scanning it for anything critical. He was lucky to have no court appearances today and it seemed as though nothing major managed to develop during his scramble into the office this morning.
Thankful for the uneventful start, he grabbed his phone to check the NXX group chat as well. To his surprise… nothing. Nothing urgent, nothing new. Nothing demanding a meeting or attention or work. A stroke of luck perhaps, freeing him to focus on the work he was already behind in.
His hands moved next to grab his still-damp briefcase and quickly go over case files before his first meeting with a client. Focused blue eyes instead flew wide upon being greeted with soaked folders containing soaked documents nestled inside. His bag, it seems, did not survive the fall nearly as well as he thought it did.
Annoying as it was for the various case documents to be damaged, the real killer was the handwritten notes now rendered illegible. His thoughts, observations, and other work product minutia were, in some spots, smudged beyond recognition, kicking his progress on several different cases back by a mile.
Frustration tugged heavily at his core, but all he could do was let out a welled up cough. He had no choice but to reprint the documents he had taken home with him and hope that he could piece together what he had initially noted down.
At 11:42 A.M., a soft knock sounded at his door.
“Mr. Wing,” Rosa began, stepping lightly across the threshold. “I finished the pleading for Mr. Jin’s case, as well as the motion for summary judgement for the Eiderson Garden case. Both should be waiting for you in your inbox.”
“Thank you, Rosa.” She lit up with a gentle smile at the simple response and Artem felt a small portion of the weight from this day slip from him for a moment. “I’ll go over them as soon as I’m done with this and let you know if I find any corrections, okay?”
She smiled again and nodded, but Artem felt his spine stiffen as, before she could respond, her clever eyes finally took note of the state of disarray his office was in.
The soaked pages were all but strewn across the room, spread flat on various surfaces to try to salvage the notes blurred into obscurity, some pages even pressed under heavy law books. His jacket still hung in the corner and his damp socks were folded politely nearby. He was lucky enough to have spare socks tucked away into one of the drawers of his desk, but the soles of his loafers had yet to dry fully, flipped upside down beside the socks, and he found himself sheepishly angling his socked feet behind him a little at his desk in hopes Rosa wouldn’t notice their absence upon his feet.
“Is… everything okay?” she asked, looking back at him with furrowed brows.
“Yes, ah–” Artem cleared his throat before trying again. “Yes, everything’s alright. There, uhm,... Don’t worry about it,” he failed to play off.
Rosa frowned, nearly giving him a stink eye. “If you need any help with anything, I’m here you know! I am your–”
“-- partner, I know. I’ll let you know if I need anything. I promise.” He added the last part hastily as Rosa’s expression managed to narrow further and she scrutinized him for a moment longer before conceding.
Though the door had closed behind her, Artem felt himself still holding a faint smile, the first that had graced him throughout this awful morning. But just as he found himself ready to get back to the task still pulled up on his desktop, the door opened again, and this time Rosa hurried into the room before he could protest.
She crossed over to his desk briskly, setting down a large mug and several small candies. Before he could even protest or express any surprise, she turned around and marched out again without a word, a strict sense of finality in her movements. Before he knew it, the door was closed behind her and silence filled the space once more.
Artem picked up the mug and saw a freshly brewed cup of ginger tea swirling about inside. He looked quickly to the candies only to find that they were not candies at all but lozenges for his throat.
His mouth opened slightly in surprise as he picked up and fiddled with the wrapper on it before curling into a faint smile. He had said nothing about the creeping illness currently raiding his system and Rosa still managed to notice. An unfurling feeling of warmth rooted itself behind his ribs and sprawled even down to his toes. Mug in hand, he felt there was nothing the remainder of the day could bring that he couldn’t tackle!
12:10 P.M. brought with it the death of his newfound resilience. Artem’s usual lunchtime haunt, a high-end restaurant a short ways away from Themis’ building, not only had his usual seat occupied, but every single seat the establishment housed completely taken. He had not only faced the chilly rain once more for nothing, but now had to cross through it again to return to his office space with naught more than an empty stomach and wetter clothes.
His eyelids hung weighted as he now stood helplessly in the Themis Office pantry, hoping some kind soul had donated some thing or another for someone in a situation as sorry as his own. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see the younger legal assistants sustain themselves on a wide assortment of non-perishable instant noodle cups, especially when the office was facing a large influx of cases. He was desperate for even a half to have been left behind.
His entire body felt heavy as he dispensed hot water from the pantry’s coffee machine into the paper cup. Worst of all was the congestion clogging the entirety of his nose, the blockage radiating a sense of bleary brain-fog across his entire face. He sat down wearily, head lolling forward and plopping against where his crossed arms rested atop the pantry table. He closed his eyes, allowing a small breath to pass across his lips.
When Rosa entered the office pantry to retrieve her packed lunch, the last sight she ever expected to be met with was that of the city’s youngest and most impressive senior attorney resting lamentably at one of the communal tables. His silken brown hair was fluttered onto his arm, cascading down and obscuring his forehead like a shield. His face, from browbone down, was completely hidden from where he pressed it against his forearm. Near one elbow, a cup of instant noodles steamed, and Rosa wasn’t sure how long it had been “cooking”.
Her gentle eyes studied his hunched form in concern, stopping in her tracks as her brows furrowed. Initially intending to leave him to it, her front teeth nibbled at glossed lips. Nails drummed on the fridge handle as she scanned the contents for her sacked lunch, tapping faster and faster as her consciousness rattled around within. She had only made it about four steps away before it won her over, spinning on her heel and scurrying up to the table.
Her hand landed softly on his shoulder, her head dipping down toward his own. She hesitated for one more breath before sucking in and shaking his shoulder lightly. “Mr. Wing…?”
Waking sleep broke under light touch with a start as Artem’s head flew up. Haze clung desperately to his eyelashes as he blinked rapidly against fluorescent lights. The first sight to re-focus before him was that of Rosa leaning in on his right side, her delicate face wrought with concern and curiosity. Was the lump in his throat from phlegm, or something else…
He felt a soft burning under the skin of his cheeks as he opened his mouth to speak. She, too, opened hers and the pair both moved to speak at the same time.
“Ah, I’m–”
“R-Rosa–”
They each halted at the sound of the other’s voice, pausing for a moment as both lapsed into silence. Artem’s mouth opened and closed, swallowing thickly as Rosa took initiative.
“I’m sorry for startling you, Mr. Wing,” she led earnestly. “I don’t want to disturb you while you rest, but I wanted to make sure you’re alright… This isn’t where I’d expect to find you during lunchtime.”
“No, no, Rosa, you’re alright. Thank you for waking me.” He glanced down at his watch while he spoke. 1:42 PM. “If you’ll excuse me, I do need to get back to work.”
Rosa’s brows pinched a little as she let her concern slip through. “Are you… sure you’re okay?” She reached out to press her knuckles against his forehead, lips twitching into a frown. “You’re burning up! I can take you down to the…” She trailed off as Artem reached up to take her hand from his forehead into his own.
Truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure if he was burning up from illness or something else entirely. Her serious, inquisitive gaze drilled down on him, and he already had a hard time resisting those eyes when not addled with sickness.
“Thank you.” His words were genuine and he felt himself actually smile. He patted her hand lightly as he continued. “I’ll keep that in mind if I begin to feel poorly, but you don’t need to worry about me too much.”
Rosa visibly bubbled up at this response, gaze turning sharp. “Aren’t you the one who said we should rely on each other as partners?”
Artem’s breath hitched for a second. As nice as it is to see Rosa’s fiery side, he didn’t think there was any need for her to worry. They were halfway through the work day by now and he could surely make it through the remainder as long as he rested when he got home. It was bad enough that he was struggling today, he didn’t want to distract her from her work too.
“Um, you’re right. I’ll take it easy for the rest of the day, okay? Thank you again for waking me. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”
Looking helplessly at his retreating back, Rosa’s concern tripled. It was clear that Artem wasn’t well, no matter what he said about it, and she didn’t relish the idea of just letting him stagnate and suffer all on his own. But it was clearly obvious that he also wasn’t going to take any help just laying down. She realized she was going to have to get a little more clever and opened a familiar text chain on her phone.
2:20 P.M. A stomach rumble broke the silence of his office. The overcooked, lukewarm noodles were better than nothing, but the day-long emptiness in his gut was hard to conquer. It was one of few feelings his foggy mind was sure of right now.
Once again, a small stroke of luck seemed to grace him. This hour was one of preferred times of the day to take meetings and yet there was none scheduled. He felt himself growing more exhausted with each passing minute, and he figured there was no chance that he would be able to pay attention in this state.
4:51 P.M. The time was crawling by. His nose was starting to run and his sinuses ached. He jockeyed between eyeing the clock and his work, desperate for quitting time to roll around so he could go home and collapse into bed.
5:25 P.M. 35 minutes to go. He could barely focus on the case materials before him, eager to wrap up. And yet, with only so little time to go, a most dreadful sound broke the quiet of his office space.
His phone lit up with a message ping. In cursed, despicable letters neon bright across his screen it read Emergency Meeting.
A helpless feeling gripped him. It took all his might to refrain from audibly whining out loud and he instead elected to pick up and respond to the message. To his surprise, all of the other team members already replied and confirmed, leaving him no choice but to follow suit. With sickened resignation, Artem steeled himself for one more stop after work, standing between him and rest at last.
Finally, at 6:14 P.M., Artem entered the familiar NXX Team meeting room. The others had to be in the building somewhere, as the meeting room’s lights were on, but no one but him currently occupied the room.
Thick brows furrowed, instinct sharpening his foggy brain into alert caution. He carefully, quietly set down his briefcase, moving lightly to avoid the click of his loafers on the solid floors. Concentrating, he ran through all the facts at his disposal to help him parse the situation at hand.
Vyn’s message said it was an emergency… The lights were already on when I entered, not flickering on when they detected my movement. Someone else has come through this way already, but they didn’t set up any meeting materials on the table.
He swept over the room once more with tired blue eyes. Nothing stood out and nothing seemed tampered with. Was there a threat already inside? Why hadn’t the security system gone off then?
The door nearest him flew open cleanly, the shock of which nearly sent Artem backward over the arm of the chair beside him. Marius barreled into the room first, Luke and Rosa flanking him on either side and Vyn pulling up the rear. The joyous expression on his face morphed into surprise as the four noticed Artem standing frazzled, his hand practically clutching over his heart and his eyes blown wide, before lifting up in conjunction with a boisterous laugh.
“What’s got you all worked up?” he teased.
“!!...” Artem didn’t respond, shifting instead to regain his composure, hands flying up to fidget with the knot of his tie. He took a moment, clearing his throat before speaking. “I thought… you said there was an emergency. What’s going on?”
Rosa had the first visual tell, expression immediately shifting into something guilty and sheepish. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wing!” she blurted, to which Vyn quietly sighed. “I didn’t want to have to lie to you, but…”
The room lapsed into silence, neither Vyn nor Luke offering to pick up the trail she dropped. Instead, Marius burst forward once more, suddenly thrusting his arm around Artem’s own in a motion that spun the latter around before all but dropping him into the seat.
The others quickly followed suit as Artem, once again, gained his bearings, expression creased as he looked between the each of them. “What’s this about, then?”
“Rosa texted us,” Luke began casually as he bent to swipe up Artem’s briefcase like it was nothing. “And she told us all about how you’ve been falling all over yourself today.” For a brief moment, Artem understood what Rosa meant when she described Luke’s “Serious Secret Agent Expression”.
“Yeah, like falling asleep on some random table,” Marius chimed in.
Bewildered, Artem attempted to argue back; “I don’t see how–”
“Rosa was worried.” Vyn’s comment was pointed. Artem immediately fell silent.
That is, until Luke began dumping the contents of his briefcase all over the table; “Huh–”
“--She mentioned something about this too. Something about scattering documents all over your office - Oh!”
At Luke’s exclamation, everyone in the room turned to look at the soiled papers spilling out from Artem’s bag. His resuscitation efforts had been unsuccessful and the papers, at least drier now, were no more legible than they were hours ago. Luke picked up one of the sheets before looking back at the briefcase, finally noting the broken handle at the top. Dropping the agent act, he frowned a little as he looked at Artem again.
“What happened?”
Artem sighed, his eyes shutting for a moment. With four pairs of eyes on him, he had no choice but to regale the others with the tale of his day and every mishap, from early this morning until just leaving the office.
It can be surprising how quickly the NXX team is capable of banding together when the need arises, and it’s something Artem doesn't usually see. Each of them, so individualistic in their endeavors, rarely end up dividing their space to work on something at the same time, making it a sight to see on the rare occasions they do.
Luke had gathered up all his papers, examining each one before spreading them out again and fetching one of many toolkits he always seemed to have. Within it he claimed there was a tool when, combined with some everyday chemical ingredients, he could use to retrieve the notes the pages once bore. He worked on this in a hunched-over position Artem was sure would make his back ache were it him, maneuvering each page over a small light source as his magnifying glass studied each muddled pen stroke. He had already gone through a few pages of his own notepad transcribing the recovered information, moving through the files bit by bit.
Marius was still seated beside him, though he too sat with wretched posture. He had devoted himself to the cause of the small charm. He began by wiping it down to clean it from the tumble it had taken that morning before carefully rewiring the metal clasping so it could hold safely again. Noting the minor scuffage on it, Marius had disappeared out to his car for only a brief moment before returning with a small set of paints and a thin brush. He sat now, quiet, as he slowly but expertly mended the damage, his tongue poking past his lips just slightly.
Vyn had helped himself to the soiled bag itself, claiming he knew of a few methods to at least minimize the water damage the leather had taken. Artem couldn’t see beyond Vyn’s narrow back to see what procedures he actually utilized, but he caught a glimpse of the body of it when he passed it to Rosa, surprised to see that Vyn spoke truth; much of the damage had been minimized.
It was at this point where Vyn passed it to Rosa, who took over carefully sewing the torn handle back together, mending the very spot where the rip happened. Her hands moved carefully, operating slowly to maintain the prestigious appearance of the briefcase as much as possible. Artem, however, was distracted by her focused expression more than anything else, slightly enraptured by the way she concentrated on each stitch.
Artem, of course, had done nothing. His story had concluded with little more than evident pity from the rest of the gang. Rosa brewed him a warm cup of tea as they decided among themselves what task they could reasonably do, unanimously electing that Artem take the time to rest.
In all honesty, there were some spots in which he faded in and out a little, head lolling forward with sleepiness here and there. While he could hear the occasional conversation unravel between his teammates, it sounded distant.
He semi-dozed like this for a while, unsure of how much time had passed. At some point, he thought he smelled something warm – had Vyn gone off to bake something? When he did rouse himself a little, he found himself content to watch quietly. Any protests he had died out long ago, and voicing them would have required far more strength than his ill body could muster. His head still felt a bit cloudy, but there was an unmistakable sense of warmth, one different from the smell wafting into the room, diving deep into his core.
“Check this out!” Marius boasted with a boyish grin, the fully repaired charm dangling off his ring finger. “Good as new.”
“These too. I was able to retrieve pretty much everything from your notes. All of your work should be here now.”
“Heh, leave it to Master Luke!” Marius grinned bigger as Luke placed his own notes in front of Artem.
“We did everything we could for your briefcase too.” Rosa handed the bag to him as she spoke. True to her words, much of the damage had been reversed, though some faint remarks still remained and he rubbed his thumb overtop of one.
Vyn’s gaze was surprisingly apologetic. “We mitigated as much of the damage as we could…”
“Thank you all,” Artem said quietly, his expression a cocktail of disbelief and subdued delight. “You didn’t have to go to all of this effort.”
“Of course we did!” Rosa belted out. “I’ve been trying to tell you all day! As partners we help the other! And we’re all teammates. You can rely on us sometimes too, Mr. Wing!”
Vyn agreed. “Rosa is right. A team is only as good as its weakest member. It’s our job to look out for one another.” He placed the plate of fresh pastries – he had been baking indeed – on the table and subtly slid it toward Artem.
“It’s okay to let others help take care of you when you need it,” Luke added, attempting to ignore the pointed look Rosa sent his way as well.
“Especially when you’re sick,” Marius added. “Seriously, you were going through it today.”
“We all want to help you,” Rosa concluded, “just like you always help me! We’re worse for wear without our Libra!”
Artem felt his cheeks growing a bit warm, a sheepish feeling creeping up the back of his neck. He hadn’t meant to reject their goodwill as much as he had and perhaps he needed the aid more than he realized. He felt like a boy again sitting under their collective gazes, sheepish and quiet after being chastised. But it felt good knowing everyone was so willing to come together to try to turn his day around at its end, even if they did have to feign an emergency to get him there. He didn’t realize just how much that level of individual care from each of his team members would dig at him, a tight feeling rising in his throat. He swallowed heavily before sniffling, attempting to act as though it was merely just his sickness bothering him. All he could do was mumble a small “Thank you.”
It was Marius who broke the resulting quiet, looking down at the charm still dangling from his hand. “What’s the deal with this little guy anyway?”
“Oh!” Rosa lit up with recognition. Artem looked up, moving past his sheepish little moment and into his regular mode.
“A client’s child gave it to me.” Artem explained, reaching out to carefully take it.
“The case where they had been scapegoated by their jobs and almost lost their house because of it, right?” Rosa asked.
“Correct. I like to carry it with me to remember the people each case helps.”
The three other men’s faces broke out into various displays of mischief at his earnest answer. Artem immediately knew he had said too much, that sheepish feeling building again before they even started to lay into him.
“Awww, that’s our senior attorney alright!”
“How sentimental of you!” Coral eyes twinkled above a fanged smile.
“How cute.”
Artem sneezed.