Chapter Text
Counting incessant tapping wasn’t exactly what Joker expected to do for the rest of the workday today, but at least it beat writing excel equations for any more spreadsheets from the sales department with likely embellished numbers. It quite literally wasn’t the operations team’s job; he should have just sent some strongly worded emails saying that it wasn’t his problem, please don’t copy me anymore, thank you.
Two twenty-five, two twenty-six. He groaned. If he didn’t yawn when he looked out the window, he’d see a window cleaner scrubbing away at the giant piece of glass, his plastic bucket tapping forever against it while he adjusted himself. The sound must have been so much louder out there, though the city was probably louder, too. Joker gave him a pass for now, looking back at the green bar at the top of the spreadsheet.
It was After School already, so why was he still here? It wasn’t like he was doing anything useful anyways. There was only one other person on the team and even though he was away for a family emergency, Joker was doing just fine. This time slot was just a massive, massive waste of time.
Joker forced his fingers back onto the keyboard, the clacking sounds just— nevermind, they didn’t drown out the tapping. He pressed his glasses higher onto his face. Whatever. Finish the spreadsheets for the meeting tomorrow. Work now to slack off later.
“Thank you for your hard work, Joker-san,” his boss said slowly, like a glacier. His mouth didn’t stop moving even after the -san. Futaba would have called this guy an NPC. Joker scratched the back of his neck, and bowed as his boss lumbered out.
There was no one to watch him anymore, and Joker sank back into his chair. It was already Evening, the window cleaner and the tapping long gone. The cleaner probably went home hours ago.
His emails were open now, a message from the sales department unread and unanswered. Theoretically, he was outside of work hours, but that email was also sent outside of work hours. Maybe there was something urgent. Maybe he actually needed to respond to this one.
He clicked on it.
Sorry, there was an error in data for the spreadsheets. Please find att—
Joker held the power button down until the entire setup stopped breathing.
He wasn’t sure if it was just the lights in Shinjuku at first, but it was still barely light when he left the high rise. This was the wrong part of Shinjuku to look at lights, though.
“Oi,” a sound came from one of the garbage cans at the periphery of a tiny alleyway that snaked past his office. A cat was scratching itself, having perked up when it saw Joker. Its blue, almost piercing eyes hadn’t aged a day. If cats could smile, it seemed like it did.
“How was work?” Morgana purred, bracing himself as Joker opened his almost-empty bag, turning it towards him. The sound of a zipper crunching, and then a soft thud and the cat was in the bag.
“It was okay,” Joker replied, starting to make his way towards the station. “The same as always.”
“Ugh, sounds like it sucks,” Morgana shifted in the bag again, and Joker imagined him with his head poking out, looking around at the people that walked by them as he always did. “You need to start getting off work earlier! Don’t you legally end work at 4:30?”
“Work’s busy, Morgana,” Joker said softly, feeling the bounce of the bag against his back.
“I know. But we haven’t gone to play darts in so long. Actually,” a paw tapped his shoulder. Morgana needed to trim his claws. “Just let me sit in with you at work! Just hide me in your bag like before!”
“Not a bad idea.” They were at Kabukicho, the giant red neon sign blaring as they walked straight past it. “You can answer some emails.”
“When have I ever come up with a bad idea?” Morgana laughed, and one could feel the smugness emanating off him even in the March air. “I expected more from you, Joker.”
They had to duck under a particularly low sign to cut the corner into Shinjuku station, squeezing just in front of two high school students holding some sort of box onto the escalator. Morgana clambered out of the bag, the zipper groaning, and lay down on the moving armrest, resting his chin on Joker’s hand.
“The advertisements here haven’t changed,” Joker offered, but he stared with Morgana at a poster for Triple Seven’s karaage, and then one for Tsurukame Diamond, and then an ad for a new mobile game called Moonlight, with the design of a small, dark-blue haired magical girl.
“Hey, that’s pretty good art!” Morgana purred from his chest like he was encouraging a child. “Most gacha art is sooo generic. But this kinda works! Hey, Joker, maybe we should try this game.”
Morgana looked further down the wall, and then hopped over to the other side of the escalator, Joker catching a glimpse of a poster for the upcoming All-Japan Rhythmic Gymnastics before it was obscured by a ball of fur. Morgana was perched on the left, and he was looking at someone who was going up the escalator.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, that kid,” Morgana whispered. “You think he looks like…?”
That student did have dyed blonde hair, but it was long, and he was far too well-dressed that a skull mask really wouldn't have fit his style.
“Not at all,” Joker chuckled.
“Fine,” Morgana stretched, still grinning. “I hope the metro isn’t stupid-crowded. Can you get me something from Yon-Germain? It’s late!”
“We can eat there.”
“Mmh,” Morgana nodded. “Remember when they used to sell those katsu buns when it rained? I haven’t seen those in so long!”
“It also costs a fortune now.”
“It’s okay!” Cats did not know how to grin, but Joker guessed he was now looking at a grinning cat. “I’ll foot the bill today!”
He was not letting his cat pay for his dinner.
The apartment door was heavy as usual, and Morgana dived down and slithered through the crack before Joker followed him in.
Morgana was so happy with this place when they first moved in — not that he wasn’t happy with it now. And Joker didn’t really have any complaints either. It was a bit small but in a quaint way. Packed just right so there was a tiny kitchen to make curry, a washroom that felt like a closet, and then the bedroom where even Morgana had his own little cat’s bed.
It was too late for curry tonight, though hopefully Morgana was sated by the bakery. He still moved with such a bounce in his step that gave Joker reassurances that Morgana was special. Of course, because according to him, he was still just a human in a “permanent and proud” cat form.
Joker set his bag down by the dresser, straightening his back to get a hit of spine after a day of hunched soreness, taking his time.
Morgana snuggled on his cushion. Joker flicked the light off, the buildings in Sasazuka flickering steadily until he closed the curtains over them. He sat on the bed, stretching in the dark, and then laid down, still in his stiff work blazer.
“So what’s the verdict on me tagging along to work tomorrow?”
“I need to keep my job if you want any more sushi.”
“Ugh, just tell them I’m like… your guide cat or something! Guide dogs are allowed, right,” Morgana meowed, the rustling of his fur bristling in the oddly quiet air.
“I look at a screen to pay the bills.” The ceiling was dark. And looked smooth, but it was actually rough and jagged. The darkness just smoothed it.
“Fine.” Morgana cleared his throat. “But the park tomorrow? Come on. It’s Thursday tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Joker smiled as Morgana cheered, coming out as a particularly soft mrrow.
“You still haven’t gotten me a phone.”
“Nice try.”
He laid there for a bit longer. He debated just going to sleep like this, in his clothes. Was it a sort of rebellion?
He chuckled to himself. One of the soul that no one could see, huh? Except maybe his boss tomorrow when his hair was a mess.
Alright. He sat up. Morgana opened his eyes to look at Joker, the blue almost glow-in-the-dark. Like a butterfly.
“What’re you doing?”
“Work.”
He ignored a scoff from the cat and sat down at his desk, opening his laptop. He squinted at the blue light — he should turn on the warm light filter — and typed in his password. He wasn’t sure what to do. He moved his mouse in a circle, hovering over a few apps but not clicking.
“Hey, it’s late,” Morgana said softly. “You’re gonna regret it tomorrow. Come on, go to sleep… actually, you’re twenty-six. Do what you want. Good night.”
Joker heard the sound of a single, soft tap of a tail onto the wooden dresser. He blinked twice, and focused back on the screen in the dark. He’ll figure out something to do.
At least this time slot was his.