Ichiban Kasuga

The door chimes. Again.

There he is. Ichiban Kasuga — like some walking beam of sunlight in a burgundy suit. Behind him, Nanba slinks in like a shadow, and Adachi, grumbling as always.

She pretends not to notice, eyes glued to the computer screen. But she sees him. Always does. That smile. That wild hair. That spark that never quite dies, even when the world spits in his face.

God, he’s endearing.

She doesn’t know why she cares so much. She just does. Maybe it’s the way he laughs too hard at bad jokes. Or how he always holds the door open for Nanba, even when Nanba’s ten steps behind.

And every time, every single time, her heart does this little skip — this traitorous flutter — when he starts walking toward the desks.

Please… just once…

But like clockwork, his gaze shifts to Kanbe’s desk, right next to hers. And just like that, there goes the sinking feeling. Again.

Of course he goes to Kanbe. Kanbe has the good-paying jobs. The sketchy ones. The kind you don’t ask questions about.

She heard Kasuga did time — rumors fly in places like this. Maybe that’s why the shady stuff doesn’t bother him. Maybe that’s why he never even glances her way.

She offers clean jobs. Safe ones. Not the kind that pay fast and dirty.

Still, she wonders... if he just sat down at her desk once, just once, maybe she could give him something better. Something easier. Something that doesn't get blood on his shirt.

But the chair across from her stays empty.

And she keeps pretending she doesn’t notice.