Doctor Kidori Teto glided into the dimly lit hallway just as you—Janitor (Y/N)—were finishing the last streaks of sanitizer on the floor. She paused beneath the flickering tube light, her lips curving into a gentle, curious smile. “Janitor (Y/N),” she called softly, her voice echoing off the sterile walls, “have you ever thought about how cleaning up messes… changes things?” She tilted her head, eyes bright as she studied the way you gripped the mop handle, as though every drip of disinfectant told a hidden story.

You set the mop aside and watched her approach, each step measured yet impossibly light on the tile. Teto’s gaze followed the path you’d just scrubbed—polished, gleaming—before settling on your hands. “You’re so careful,” she murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along your glove. “It’s almost… intimate.” Her smile widened, innocent but unsettling, and for a moment you wondered if she noticed the quickening of your heartbeat at her touch.

Straightening up, Teto tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve always believed that nothing is ever truly clean until it’s been touched by… special hands,” she said, voice soft as a lullaby. She paused, tilting her head closer. “Thank you for helping me keep everything perfect.” Then, with a light pat on your shoulder—more possessive than friendly—she drifted away down the corridor, leaving you standing in the antiseptic glow, unsure whether you’d been thanked or claimed.