Chapter Text
You were searching the internet for a job, and you came across this application, "Administrative Secretary Application". You clicked it. Scanned through the details and stopped at the hourly wage being $40 an hour. Immediately, you clicked the application and started typing in your information. After many questions, you finally hit submit.
A day later, you receive an email that states, “Dear (Reader), Thank you for submitting your application for the secretary position. After reviewing your qualifications, I am interested in moving forward. I would like to schedule an interview to further discuss your background, availability, and how you could contribute to the office. Sincerely, Nanami Kento.” The date has been set, and you will meet him tomorrow at 10:00 am sharp. You felt a knot in your stomach. You've never been a secretary for a lawyer before, just for a small office that did insurance. This job would be more serious, with very little room to make mistakes.
You put on your best professional clothing. Fixed your hair to look more serious and professional. The knot in your stomach was getting bigger as you checked yourself one last time in the car mirror before walking in. You have all your information with you in a tan folder. You walk up to the door, take a deep breath in hopes to calm your nerves. You open the door. There was a receptionist who looked up from her desk and gave you a blank stare. She got up from the desk, "Welcome, you must be (Reader)," she said with that same blank stare and monotone voice. The receptionist led you down the hall. The carpet muffled your footsteps, but it didn't help the feeling crawling up your spine. As you walked, you looked up and saw each door etched with neat black lettering. Attorneys. Partners. She stopped at the last door in the hallway, the only door that was colored a deep red. The letters above said Nanami Kento. "He's expecting you," she said as she knocked on the door, leaving you alone with the handle in front of you. You stood there a second too long. The cool handle beneath your fingers, you knocked again, "Enter." The voice was calm, which made it worse. You opened the door, and the office was immaculate, not a speck of dust. A wide desk with dark wood faced the window, paperwork stacked in perfect alignment in one corner. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined against the walls; spines of legal volumes stamped in gold. Behind the desk was Nanami Kento. He didn't look up right away, it was silent for what felt like forever. You didn't know if you had to speak first. As you started to form the words, he closed the file in front of him and placed it on his desk. He finally raised his eyes to meet yours. "You may sit," he said. You glanced at the chair in front of him and took a seat in it. He adjusted his glasses and picked up the folder beside him that read your name. "You are applying for the secretary position," he said in a firm voice. It wasn't a question. He flipped through the paperwork. "You previously worked as a secretary for an insurance firm." his eyes lifted just enough to look at you over the rim of his glasses. "Small office", you nodded. "How many attorneys worked there?" "None", you admitted. "It was mostly claims adjusters and-" "Accountants," he finished, glancing back down. "You handled scheduling?" "Yes," "Records management?" "Yes", he glanced back up at you, his hazel eyes burning into you. "Describe the volume." "I- what?" "Daily intake. Files processed. Email sent." You swallowed "On average? Forty or fifty cases active at a time." His mouth tightened. He closed the folder. "You should manage more than before noon." His words weren't unkind; they were factual. He leaned back slightly in his chair. "Why leave?" You hesitated just long enough for him to notice. His gaze sharpened. "The pay was low," you said carefully, "And there wasn't much room to move up." "Honest," He replied. The word landed flatly, not praise, not criticism. There was silence after that. You didn't know whether he would ask more questions. Nanami studied you in the same way he has studied every line in your resume-slowly, carefully, as if deciding if you were worth the risk. "You are not unqualified," he said. Relief flickered through you before you could notice. But he noticed. "That was not reassurance." He stood up. The movement alone shifted the weight of the room. "This position requires discretion, stamina, and accuracy," he said, straightening his tie with precise fingers. "You will see things you are not meant to repeat. Hear conversations you are not meant to share. Handle documents that cannot be misplaced." He walked around the desk. Slowly. "I do not raise my voice," he continued, "If I am displeased, you will know." He stopped in front of you, not looming but just close enough to make the point. "Do you understand?" "Yes," you answered. "One last question," he said. "How well do you follow instructions?" The words were calm, but the air felt tighter. "Very well," you said. Nanami studied you for a moment longer than necessary. "Most applicants answer that," he replied. "Few can prove it." He returned to his desk and picked up his red pen. "When hired, you will be expected to anticipate tasks, not wait for them to be assigned." He wrote something in the margins of your file. "You will not argue with procedure." He wrote another note. "You will execute what I ask." The pen clicked shut. "Can you do that?" "Yes," you answered. Nanami's mouth twitched. "We will see."
The first day was quieter than expected. There was the low hum of the computers, the shuffling of papers, every movement, every small decision felt like it carried more weight than it should have. Your desk was exactly as neat as you had imagined it to be, with organized shelves and dark wood. It was close enough that whoever sat at the main desk would see everything you were doing. This realization made a small wave of nervousness crawl up your spine. There would be no hiding mistakes here. Still, you stepped inside and carefully placed your bag beside the chair. You began to look at the notes left behind by the previous secretary. Most read in careful handwriting meetings, reminders, and instructions for filing. You read everything slowly. Twice. You didn’t want to miss anything. The office door opened not long after you had sat down. Your shoulders immediately straightened up, and you subconsciously held your breath. Footsteps moved across the room, steady and unhurried. You glanced up. Nanami Kento stood still, his eyes briefly scanning the room. They landed on you. Being this close made the moment feel more intense than you expected. There were only a few feet between your desks, close enough that every movement suddenly felt more noticeable. You forced yourself not to fidget. “Good morning, Mr. Nanami,” you said, hoping your voice didn't betray the small knot of nerves in your chest. He nodded once. “Good morning.” His gaze moved briefly across your desk, taking in the neatly stacked papers, the opened notebook, and the schedule you had already printed. You resisted the urge to explain everything you had done so far. Instead, you returned to your computer screen to review an email draft with careful focus. Every word typed slowly, every sentence reread before sending. You’re very aware of him working only a short distance away, the quiet shuffle of papers, the occasional tap of his keyboard, the faint sound of a pen clicking. It was strange working this close to someone you barely knew. But slowly, the nervousness began to settle. You worked carefully. Organized meeting times. Double-checked the formatting on a report before printing it and setting it neatly on the corner of Nanami’s desk. “Your meetings for today,” you said, sliding the page slightly towards him. Nanami’s hand reached for it at the same moment. Your fingers pulled back just before they touched. A small thing. Barely noticeable. But the pause that followed lasted half a second longer than necessary. His eyes flicked toward you briefly before returning to the document. The formatting was correct; the notes were placed neatly along the margins. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, without looking up from the document, he spoke, “…. Efficient.” It was only one word, but it made the tightness in your chest loosen a little. You gave a small nod before returning to work at your desk. Across the room, Nanami continued reviewing the schedule. His expression remained composed. Professional. His gaze lifted again. Not long. Just enough to study the quiet concentration on your face as you worked. Then he returned to the paperwork in front of him. And the office settled back into its quiet rhythm. Though now, beneath the steady sound of typing and the turning of pages, something faint and unspoken lingered in the air, subtle enough to ignore, but present enough to be noticed if either of you looked a little closely. Every so often, when one of you happened to glance up at the same time, the silence between your desks shifted just slightly, like air had tightened for a second too long. Yet the awareness remained there.
As you laid in bed, remembering his piercing gaze, those glances you'd get of each other, many thoughts started to fill your head. That night……you touched yourself to Nanami Kento.