Chapter Text
With a gust of wind, Shirabu shivered as he approached the building. He tugged on the door, slightly unfurling his chilled hands. He approached the desk and waited for the gentleman to turn to him.
He smiled softly. “Hello. How can I help you?”
Shirabu unfolded a form from his pocket. “Hello. I need help with family registration. My older brother was told he had to submit this form, but when he mailed it in, we were told it was incorrect. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so perhaps you could help?”
“If I can.” The man took the form. He slid his glasses onto his nose and began inspecting it. “The address line is different.”
“Pardon?” Shirabu asked, peering across the desk.
“I apologize, sir. This is an outdated form.” He pointed to the address line. “Mistakenly, this form makes the apartment number mandatory.”
“My brother doesn’t have an apartment number. He lives in a house.”
He nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, when these documents are scanned into our system, they’re automatically flagged, and an email—like the one you and your brother received—is sent. I sincerely apologize for this issue.”
Shirabu nodded. “It’s nothing. Thank you for the clarification. Can we adjust the form now and have it resubmitted?”
He turned to the computer. “One moment, please. Let me make a note of the incorrect family-registration update forms.” He looked back at Shirabu. “Unfortunately, it’s our policy that these documents be authenticated on paper to be submitted and accepted.”
“Oh. It’s just a clerical error, though, right?” Somewhat, he smiled. “My niece is nearly a month old, and she’s not legally registered in our family. I really don’t want to drag this out, sir.”
He exhaled. “I can try, sir. I hope your niece knows how lucky she is to have an uncle like you.”
Shirabu’s mouth fell into a line.
He returned to his computer. He fiddled with it for some time.
Shirabu waited. He tapped his foot, and his eyes wandered through the sterile government building. He waited a little more as the middle-aged man hummed and hawed to the sound of his computer clicks. The man muttered to himself about documents and technology. Shirabu still waited.
“One moment, please.” He smiled mildly, getting out of his seat. “Ah, Semi-kun! I don’t mean to bother. Tech support? It’ll only take a moment!”
“Only a moment, Ebitsuka-san? I’ve heard that before.”
Shirabu lifted his head just as the civil servant returned with a coworker, who slid into the chair.
“This is my colleague,” the older man introduced, standing behind the chair. “He’ll just be a moment.”
“Shirabu?”
He blinked. “Semi-san.”
Ebitsuka looked at the younger men. “Semi-kun, do you know this gentleman?”
Semi snorted. “Gentleman… Yes, Ebitsuka-san. This one was my kōhai in our high school volleyball club. We played the same position: setter.” He looked away from the computer screen for half a second to glance at Shirabu. Then, he turned to his coworker. “He’s better than me.”
Shirabu swallowed. “I don’t play anymore.”
“Because he’s a busy guy now—a doctor,” he told his senior. “Congratulations again on graduating.” He smiled at Shirabu.
“Smart and an athlete,” Ebitsuka noted.
Semi paused, turning his chair with a frown. “And what am I?”
“A civil servant who’s supposed to be helping me with my form,” Shirabu interjected.
Semi sighed, chair turning back again. “I can talk and work.”
“It seems you’re only doing one of those things, Semi-san.”
“Well, excuse me for being excited to see my kōhai for the first time in years! What are you doing back in Miyagi anyway?” Between mouse clicks, he glanced past the computer screen at Shirabu.
“Just… helping my family.”
Semi nodded. Squinting, he read, “Shirabu… Fusako?”
He nodded. “My niece.”
“Oh, a summer baby. Cute. Congratulations to your family.”
He murmured, “Thanks…”
“Here, Ebitsuka-san.” He stood, returning the chair to his colleague. “Is this all?”
The gentleman sat down again. He clicked once, then twice. “Oh, perfect! Thank you, Semi-kun! Tech support strikes back!” he praised.
Semi smirked. “See?”
“Good work,” Shirabu replied.
He crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know, I don't need to help you.”
“Thank you for your benevolence and for doing your job.”
“That’s what I’m saying. This isn’t part of my job description.”
“Ah, yes, Shirabu-kun, is it?” Ebitsuka said. “Semi-kun is right. Only recently has he gained a reputation for being good with computers, so he’s unintentionally become our on-demand tech support. For old geezers like me.”
“Ebitsuka-san—“
“My daughter is hardly younger than you, Semi-kun,” he protested.
Semi sighed. Hand on his hip, he regarded Shirabu. “So.”
He blinked.
“How long will you be here?”
“I’ll be around.”
He raised an eyebrow. Then, he asked, “Do you want to grab a meal one of these days? When you have the time.”
“Semi-kun.”
He hummed, attention hardly spared for his senior. “Yeah?”
“Please don’t flirt while on the clock.”
He stiffened. “Wait, I—“
Shirabu retorted, “If this is Semi-san’s flirting, I pity what partners he may have.”
Semi shook his head but smiled. “So?”
“So?”
“When I’m off the clock,” he emphasized, “do you have some time for me?”
Shirabu barely smirked. “I have your contact. I’ll let you know.”
He grinned. “Okay. Even if you get too busy, it was good seeing you, Shirabu.”
“Goodbye, Semi-san.”
He chuckled slightly. “Later.” He waved and disappeared into the back.
“Have you known Semi-kun long?” Ebitsuka wondered.
“Sorry? We—I met him my first year of high school.”
“I see.”
“Why do you ask?”
He shook his head. “He can seem serious and unpleasant at first glance, but Semi-kun seems very comfortable around you, Shirabu-kun. I’m glad to see it.” He smiled.
Shirabu cleared his throat. “The form. Can it be updated digitally?”
“Oh! Oh, yes! I only need to manually exclude the apartment number from the required items, and that should settle it!”
“Thank you. Then, we don’t have to fill out another form and wait? Or return here.”
“You’d just have to wait for the form to process fully.” He tilted his head. “Or rather, this would put a damper on Shirabu-kun and Semi-kun’s reunion…”
“My brother will be glad to hear this,” Shirabu interrupted. “Thank you, Ebitsuka-san.”
He shook his head. “Nonsense! It was mostly Semi-kun!”
“Thank you anyway. And, if Semi-san asks, I’ll give him my formal thanks another day. Off the clock,” he added.
He laughed. “Very well! Have a good day, Shirabu-kun. And congratulations to you!”
Shirabu’s eyebrow twitched. He nodded slightly, and he left.
He exhaled, gait uncertain as he stepped away from the government building. He was down the street, waiting for the bus, when he took out his phone. Shirabu scrolled far down his contact list to write out a concise, “Hello.”
By the time he settled into his seat on the bus and was bumping along down the road, his phone chimed.
He frowned, staring at the near-immediate response. Still, he replied.
He tucked his phone back into his pocket, slumping slightly into his seat as he watched the world roll past.