Work Text:
Workday
Shuurei had been working overtime at the Censorate all day yesterday and hadn't gone home. Her neck ached from hunching over case files for so long. A streak of ink stained her left cheek, and at some point, her hairpin had come loose without her even noticing.
She didn't hear the footsteps until they stopped right behind her.
"You look like a rat that's been nesting here for a week."
Shuurei flinched violently. Piles of case files came crashing down around her. Riku Seiga stood in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing that infuriating half-smile of his.
"What are you doing here, Seiga?" she asked. "I'm busy."
"I can see that." He stepped over the scattered documents and unceremoniously sat down on a stack of paperwork. "I came to tell you that the report you submitted yesterday has been rejected."
Shuurei's heart sank. "What? Why?"
"Because you cited a precedent that was abolished three years ago. Honestly, do you ever read the most recent legal statutes?"
She froze for a moment. "I did read them," she protested. "I must have missed—"
"You missed a lot." He reached over and pulled a volume from the pile beside her, unfolding it. "Here. This is the correct one. If you resubmit by this afternoon, you might still make the deadline."
Shuurei looked at the document, then at him. "Why are you helping me?"
Seiga's smile sharpened. "I'm not helping you. I'm preventing your incompetence from dragging down the entire Censorate. There's a difference."
"Of course." She took the document. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just do your own job properly."
He stood up and brushed the dust from his sleeves. At the doorway, he paused. "You haven't gone home, have you. When was the last time you ate?"
"I had a rice ball last night."
"That doesn't count."
"Since when do you care whether I eat or not?"
Seiga didn't answer. He reached into his sleeve, pulled out a small paper packet, and tossed it onto her lap.
"What's this?"
"Walnut cookies. I bought too many." He turned away. "Eat them or don't. Up to you."
He left.
Shuurei unwrapped the packet. Three walnut cookies.
Bought too many, my foot, she thought.
By noon, Shuurei had rewritten and resubmitted her report. She returned to the archives and continued flipping through case files.
She was poring over a document when she felt someone sit down across from her.
It was Seiga. He didn't say anything, just pulled a file from the stack he was carrying, unfolded it, and began to read.
Shuurei glanced at him. "What are you doing here again?"
"This is my job."
"Don't you work in the offices upstairs?"
"I work wherever I want to work."
Shuurei didn't press further. The two of them read through their respective files in silence.
After a while, Seiga spoke.
"That report of yours. You submitted it?"
"Yes."
"Director Ki accepted it?"
"He did. Said he'd give an answer tomorrow."
Seiga hummed in acknowledgment and went back to his file.
A little later, Shuurei heard a soft thud. She looked up to see Seiga placing a small cloth-wrapped bundle on the corner of her desk.
"What's that?"
"Lunch. I passed by that noodle shop and picked it up on a whim."
Shuurei looked at the bundle, then at him. "Why would you—"
"I had to eat anyway. I just happened to grab an extra." He paused. "Don't eat it if you don't want to."
Shuurei hesitated, then unwrapped the bundle. Inside was a bowl of noodles, still warm.
"Chopsticks?"
"Under the cloth."
Shuurei fished out the chopsticks and took a bite. The noodles were ordinary, but warm, and eating them made her feel better all over.
"Thanks," she said.
"I told you, I didn't get it specifically for you."
"Then I'm thanking you for the 'happened to grab' part."
Seiga shot her a glance but didn't respond.
After a few bites, Shuurei noticed he had nothing in front of him. "Where's yours?"
"I already ate."
"When?"
"Since when do you care about when I eat?"
Shuurei didn't ask again. She finished the noodles, packed away the bowl and chopsticks, wiped her mouth, and picked her file back up.
"I'll keep researching this afternoon," she said. "You?"
"I still have things to do."
"So you're planning to stay here the whole time?"
"Is that a problem?"
Shuurei thought about it and shook her head. "No."
Seiga didn't say anything more. They went back to reading in silence.
---
By evening, Shuurei finally closed the last case file. She rubbed her eyes and stretched.
"Finished?"
She looked up. Seiga had put down his things at some point and was leaning back in his chair, watching her.
"Yes. You?"
"Finished long ago."
"Then why are you still here?"
"I'll leave when I feel like leaving."
Shuurei began packing up her things. She stacked the files neatly, put her brushes back in the holder, crumpled up scrap paper and tossed it into the basket.
Seiga watched her movements and suddenly said, "Your efficiency today was passable."
Shuurei blinked. "Was that... a compliment?"
"Just stating a fact."
"Then thank you for the fact."
She finished packing and stood up.
"Leaving?"
"Leaving."
She reached the door and paused without turning around.
"Seiga."
"Yeah."
"See you tomorrow."
There was a brief silence behind her. Then she heard him say:
"See you tomorrow."