Chapter Text
You prided yourself on your ability to talk to anyone. Your skills led to numerous job opportunities and once-in-a-lifetime experiences that you looked back on fondly. You’d made acquaintances and learned so many new things from the people you met. For someone who loved people, you felt so alone. There was one gentleman named Hiroshi that you served frequently as a bartender. After you became close, he took you on a vacation across the sea to a country you had never seen before. He had recently lost his young daughter and found solace in your friendship. When you quit that job, you sobbed on his shoulder at the end of your shift. He just rubbed your back and promised you’d still see each other. You stayed in contact with him and went on weekly lunches until he joined his daughter in the afterlife.
You kept a framed photo of you and Hiroshi on your bedside table.
You missed Hiroshi more than anyone you had ever known, and you desperately wished he had been able to see the milestones you accomplished since he had been gone. You would’ve liked him to be the one to walk you down the aisle.
Despite your friendliness, you found yourself alone in your too-cramped apartment every night. You spent your evenings in bed, either reading a book or scrolling aimlessly through various social media platforms. You worked and slept. That was the extent of your life.
You were used to it, truthfully. It had been that way since high school, and while you wished you could say you were happy, you weren’t. Your heart longed for companionship. Someone to share your life with, to occupy your space. You desperately wanted someone to hold—someone to cry to when the day was just too hard.
Thus began a string of noncommittal hookups and one-night stands. A couple, you crawled back to more than once- desperate for the quiet that company brought to your mind. But each time you spent the night in a stranger’s bed, it helped less to ease the noise. Until it eventually didn’t help at all.
Slowly, things began to shift ever so slightly. You had secured a significantly higher-paying office job. The company was a security firm that protected a select clientele. The promise of something new created a buzzing beneath your skin that wouldn’t quite settle.
Your first week went well, despite your fears. You spent most of the time shadowing various people in various positions. You met a woman named Ieiri Shoko, who was there almost entirely to handle any ‘fuck ups’ that happened. You quite liked her. She spoke to you patiently but was still quick to correct mistakes without sugarcoating.
Though, she did slip out for a smoke way too often.
By the second week, you became more comfortable, taking more control of the duties you would soon be performing on your own. You took phone calls, kept everyone’s schedule in check, reviewed data, and occasionally ran an errand or two.
The morning began with a drag, pale sunlight peeking through the threadbare curtains that hung at your window on a couple of poorly hammered nails. They were bent and uneven- but you couldn’t find it within yourself to bother with fixing them. You murmured a soft ‘hi baby’ to your cat, Meiko, as you sifted through your closet. you slipped on a pair of black slacks and a baby-pink button-up that was so light it was nearly white. Meiko rubbed against your legs as you stood in front of the mirror, fixing your hair. She let out a little ‘mrrrp’ when you picked her up and repeatedly kissed her head.
***
The commute to the office was the same as before; the bus was crowded, and the streets were bustling with people. But when you arrived, the energy had shifted, as if the air itself were vibrating.
Standing near the cluster of divided desks was a tall man with frazzled white hair that reached past his eyebrows and into his eyes.
How did he see?
He had round, ridiculous sunglasses perched atop his nose, and his white button-up shirt was untucked and rumpled. truthfully? It was pitiful.
“You must be the fresh meat!” The man smiled widely, sticking out a slender hand to you. Hesitantly, you reached out, and as soon as your palms made contact, he shook your hand with such enthusiasm that you wondered if he was actually trying to rip your arm off.
“i’m Satoru Gojo! No need to introduce yourself; I know exactly who you are.” The man, Satoru, rambled on. He continued to talk as you set your belongings on your desk.
“Anyway! I’ve been away on business with Nanami and Geto; it was boringgg,” he dragged out the last word similarly to a child, and you bit down on your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something that could get you fired.
Finally, you composed yourself enough to speak. “It’s very nice to meet you. I look forward to meeting the others and working alongside you.” Was that professional enough? Was it too impersonal?
Satoru took no mind, however. His smile widened, and his hand shot out to clap you on your shoulder. “Wow, an optimist! How interesting, I-“ Before he could finish his sentence, his head whipped around to look at the man entering the room. His presence demanded compliance in a way that was both intimidating and stupidly attractive. It felt as if he could bend the room to his will without moving a muscle.
You gulped.
Satoru waved him over, and the man bounded forward, crossing the room in a few long strides. He was stunning, with long black hair pulled back into a semi-neat bun. His tall, slender frame was tucked into a casual suit, and you had to physically stop your jaw from dropping.
“Suguru! This is the new hire we heard about!” Satoru beamed, sweeping his hand dramatically towards you like a car show girl.
You hesitated before introducing yourself.
Suguru dipped his head in greeting, his lips quirking upwards as he glanced back at Satoru. “It appears you’ve met Gojo. I’m deeply sorry that he was your first impression of us.”
Satoru gasped deeply, a frown overtaking his wide smile. You mourned the loss.
“My last name?! Geto, you wound me.” He pressed his large hand to his chest before rattling off something about a meeting he had coming up. Suguru flashed you an apologetic smile before stepping away, trailing Satoru as the man continued to talk, his hands flailing wildly as if to prove whatever point he was trying to make.
Briefly, you allowed yourself to wonder what he could be on. How did he have so much energy? Before you sat down and prepared for your duties of the day.
***
It didn’t take long for you to realize Satoru and Sugaru were technically your superiors. You had yet to meet Nanami properly, but you hoped he was easier to handle than Satoru, who stood at your desk with a deep frown.
“Can you please please PLEASEEEEE cancel my two o’clock appointment?” he pressed his hands together and bowed his head in prayer.
“Mr. Gojo, I truly cannot.” You frowned, clicking the end of your pen repeatedly while glaring at the calendar like it had personally wronged you.
“Mr. Fushiguro would not be pleased,” you continued, ignoring his huffs of protest. “Last Tuesday he called me eight times. He was insistent that you were in the office and purposely dodging him.”
Satoru's frown deepened.
“I do dodge him, but this time there’s really a reason! There’s a bakery that just opened and i realllyyyy wanted to go before they close at three!” he whined, crossing his arms as if to prove that he was upset.
You sighed, fingers grazing your glasses to reposition them on your nose.
“I’ll tell you what,” you began, thumb still clicking the end of your pen. “I will personally go down to the bakery and get whatever you want if you go to the meeting. I really don’t want to have to talk to that guy again. I was able to control the situation, but I didn't appreciate the way he spoke to me.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, embarrassed to admit that the man on the other end of the line had truly frustrated you.
Satoru’s eyes sparkled as if you'd plucked all the stars from the sky and handed them to him.
“You mean it? In that case, I'd like a large vanilla bean latte with four pumps of French vanilla, sweet foam, extra extra caramel drizzle, anndddd…” he trailed off in thought for a moment before picking up right where he left off. “Cheesecake if they have it! Maybe a muffin and,” he pressed his index finger to his chin in thought for a moment.
“Ah, who am I kidding? Just get one of everything!” he smiled again, vibrating with excitement.
“Mr. Gojo, as much as I’d like to fund your early grave via diabetes, I cannot just get one of everything!”
You had only known the man for a few hours, but you knew it was pointless.
“Why? Money? If it’s money here,” he fumbled with his pocket for a moment before procuring his wallet. quicker than you could blink, he was flicking a heavy black credit card at you.
“This could buy the whole bakery,” he boasted, all but puffing his chest in the process. you blinked at him, stupidly, before dipping your head and accepting defeat.
you didn’t tell him that, really, the problem was that you were one person and couldn’t possibly carry one of everything back to the office. you hadn’t even considered the money aspect of it.
“Okay,” you breathed, pen finally falling from your hand and onto the desk. “Okay, but you have to promise you’ll meet with Mr. Fushiguro.”
“Scout's honor!” his right hand lifted, a signal of his vow.
You huffed out a breath as he scampered away, talking to anyone unlucky enough to be in his path.
He was endearing in the way a little brother was. Ridiculous, and a little annoying, but you couldn’t help but smile at his antics.
You scribbled down his nonsense coffee order on your palm and wandered over to Suguru’s office. His schedule was clear this afternoon, so he should be available. The last thing you wanted was to interrupt something important. You knocked lightly and waited.
“Come in.” His voice was softer than before.
You peeked your head in with an apologetic smile, greeting him with a dip of your head.
“Pardon the interruption, Mr. Geto-I’m running down to the new bakery and was wondering if you wanted anything?” The pen in your hand was poised to scribble down an order.
His hardened expression softened a fraction.
“They have coffee, yes?”
“I hope so. Mr. Gojo has quite the request…” You trailed off, your mind shifting to what you’d do if they didn’t have coffee.
Suguru huffed out a breath of amusement.
“Poor baristas. I'd appreciate something iced, nothing too sweet. I trust your judgment from there.”
You nodded and retreated.
The door clicked shut softly behind you. You hadn’t met Nanami yet, but if he was anything like the others, he might appreciate something caffeinated.
Hesitation caused you to stall for a moment, doubt eating away at your thoughts before you shook it all away.
You approached his office door, stopping for a beat before finally raising your fist to knock. Before you got the chance, there was a gruff ‘come in’. Heat flooded your face. How did he know?
Slowly, you pushed the door open. You had an apology ready to spill out, but the sight of the man before you short-circuited your brain. Suddenly, you couldn’t quite remember why you were here in the first place.
The man had blonde hair, tousled in a way that exposed how he had been running his fingers through it. His face was sharp. His nose was completely straight, and his jawline was devastatingly chiseled. He was beautiful. As he sat there, soft sunlight trickled in through the window behind him, enveloping him in a warm, golden back light that blurred the edges of his frame and made his soft blonde hair illuminate like a halo.
“-do you need?”
fuck
“I’m sorry to bother Mr Nanami. I’m running down to the new bakery, and I got everyone else’s order- and just wanted to see if maybe you wanted anything?”
Your thumb clicked the end of your pen repeatedly, as if it had a mind of its own. he seemed to consider for a moment, his eyes regarding you in a way that made you shrink further into yourself.
“No. Will that be all?”
You felt your shoulders slump, a frown tugging at your lips. “Yes, sir, that is all.” You dipped your head respectfully, then slipped out of the room, the door shutting with a thud behind you.
***
The bakery was packed, humming with the low chatter of a busy morning. To the left of the entrance, a row of small, round wooden tables lined the wall, each one crowded with patrons hunched over flaky pastries and steaming paper cups. An assortment of tall, leafy potted plants—mostly overgrown monstera were scattered across the hardwood floor. Overhead, pothos plants trailed green vines from woven hangers. At the center of the chaos was the counter; crafted from reclaimed barn wood, it gave the space a rugged, rustic charm
The glass case was chock-full of different pastries. It smelled amazing.
The whole place was lively and warm. The room was abuzz with conversations, and you couldn't help but smile at the animated energy surrounding you. The young girl behind the counter turned to you with a smile.
“Welcome in! What can I get for you today?”
You placed the order with a sympathetic smile. Satoru’s order was embarrassing, to say the least. Once you got that out of the way, you ordered Suguru an iced lavender latte and a black coffee for Nanami. Your hands grew restless at the thought of getting him something he didn’t even want, but it felt wrong not to get him anything at all. You didn’t order anything for yourself, afraid of overspending on a card that wasn’t yours.
there’s no way Satoru could truly buy the whole bakery. right?
After the drink fiasco, you ordered an array of fruity pastries and desserts. You didn’t get one of everything, but enough to be considered a selection. One of the workers boxed them up in a recyclable cardboard box and tied a string of twine around it, a bow garnishing the top.
It was adorable.
You took the goods with a smile, balancing the baked goods and cup holder in your hands. You hip-bumped the door open and began your trek back to the office building, feeling particularly light.
***
You set the box of desserts down on your desk, wanting to grab plates and napkins before delivering them to Satoru. You hoped he'd be willing to share. The fresh baked goods taunted you all the way back to the office. They smelled heavenly, and you wanted nothing more than to devour every single one of them.
You grabbed Satoru and Suguru’s drinks, turning on your heel to deliver them. You knew Satoru was on an online conference call, so you didn’t knock. You cracked the door open enough to peek your face in, and slip the drink in, shaking it slightly. The man’s eyes lit up, and he discreetly waved you over. You set it beside his monitor and left as silently as you could.
Suguru stood a few doors down, idly talking to Shoko, whose dark eyes widened at the cup in your hands.
“Why do the boys get special treatment?” she asked, frowning.
“Maybe if you were nicer to me, you’d get coffee too.” You rolled your eyes, a small smile playing at your lips. While you didn’t know anyone very well, you were closest to her. She was the only person who approached you on your first day. She quickly became a mentor of sorts, and then an acquaintance. You thought briefly on how you’d like her to be a real friend.
“Mr. Geto.” You dipped your head, holding the latte out to him. Shoko cackled at your formality, but Suguru took it with a small smile. You shot her your meanest glare. Truly, you wanted to ram your elbow into her ribs until she yielded, but that wasn’t a good look to your higher-ups.
“Thank you.” he took a sip, and you almost jumped for joy when he didn’t double over and heave with disgust. “It’s good,” he assured, sensing your inner turmoil.
“I have sweets too; I just need to deliver one more drink-” You pointed to your desk with your thumb. “I’ll be right back!” you promised before striding off to retrieve Nanamis's drink.
You didn’t hesitate at his door this time. You knocked three times in quick succession, worrying your lip with your teeth. There’s no way anyone could be mad about free coffee, even if it weren’t entirely wanted. No answer came from the other side. You waited a moment before peeking your head in.
“Mr. Nanami?”
Suddenly, a large hand settled on your shoulder. You started, your grip tightening around the cardboard cup until it burst in your hand, splattering hot coffee all over your front. You spun on your heel, ready to confront whatever weirdo was grabbing you, but the hand was gone as quickly as it had been there. You sputtered, chin raising only to meet Nanamis steady gaze. There, you faltered, realizing who you were looking at. You took an unsteady step back, the heat of the coffee finally registering itself in your senses. The now crushed cup fell to the floor as you fumbled to pull the shirt away from your skin. It was scorching hot, and you couldn’t escape it.
Not without stripping in the middle of the office.
“I told you I didn’t want anything.”
His lips ticked downward. His expression hurt worse than the scalding coffee.
“fuck- i am so sorry, Mr. Nanami. I just wanted to do something nice and-” You glanced down at your shirt, now splashed with an ugly brown that definitely would not wash out. Your throat tightened, embarrassment and shame washing over you like a tidal wave.
Others began to turn and stare at the commotion. Nanami’s already intense gaze hardened.
“You are making a scene,” he huffed, hand reaching out again. This time, it settled on your back. He gently pushed you to get you walking, herding you into the employee break room, which was thankfully empty. Once inside, you lingered by the closed door while Nanami rummaged through cabinets until he found a roll of paper towels.
“Are you burned?” he stepped toward you like you were a wild animal. Like you’d lash out and bite him.
A deeply embarrassed part of you wanted to.
You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I don’t think so.” Your frown deepened.Your wet shirt was semi-transparent, your skin was sticky, and your superior stood before you with an unreadable expression.
“Good.” Nanami stated simply.
His assessing eyes roamed down your neck. He hooked a long finger onto the collar of your button-up and pulled it slightly to the side. When he found nothing but slightly red skin, he nodded minutely. Taking a wad of paper towel, he began to blot at your hopelessly stained shirt. The man's efforts did absolutely nothing for your shirt, which only made you feel worse.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Nanami. I truly just wanted to do something thoughtful - God, this is the worst first impression ever.”
You laughed humorlessly, palm coming up to rub at one of your eyes.
“It’s not the worst,” he corrected, sounding almost amused.
The break room door swung open. In the threshold stood Satoru with an accusing finger.
“You!” He took a step inside. “Where are my pastries!” he demanded, then his eyes fell on your soaked shirt, Nanami's hand with a paper towel, and your deep frown. He took another step closer.
“Jeez. What happened?” A slow grin widened across his face, mischief clear in his sparkling blue eyes.
“She strangled my coffee.” Nanami took a step back, hand coming up to adjust the tie around his neck.
Satoru sputtered a laugh, bending forward to brace himself on his knees.
“Nanami! I didn’t realize you knew how to make a joke!” he laughed harder, finger coming up to wipe beneath his eye.
Nanami made an offended noise, but said nothing.
“No, I really did.” You winced. As if he had suddenly remembered you existed, Satoru's eyes shifted to you once again.
“I can see your bra.”
“Mr. Gojo!” you blustered, arms instantly coming up to distort his view.
“Fear not, my lady!” Satoru declared, fingers flying up to unbutton his shirt. You yelped, hands abandoning your chest to shove him away from you.
“For the love of god, keep your shirt on!”
Satoru froze, grin slowly dissolving into a deep frown.“Most women would leap at the chance to wear my shirt.”
You gagged at him. “No. Absolutely not.” You covered your face. “god, is this some sort of humiliation ritual?”
“Do you want it to be?” The white-haired man smiled again.
“Go away!” you groaned into your palms.
“Ugh! So ungrateful!” he whined over his shoulder as he sauntered out. Once the door shut, you took a deep breath.
In front of you, Nanami glanced down at his watch. You raised your head from your hands and winced. “Again I am-” Nanami cut you off by holding up his hand.
“Stop, it’s fine. It’s your shirt that got ruined. Just-“ he clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering down to your chest and back up to your eyes.
“Here,” he grunted, shrugging off his blazer and holding it out to you.
“We really can see your...” he cleared his throat. “bra.” The man’s eyebrows knit as if the word pained him. You slid it on, and before you could thank him, he was gone.