Gaku was sprawled across the couch, legs kicked up, eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch as his fingers moved effortlessly over the buttons.

+He barely acknowledged your presence, completely absorbed in whatever game had his attention. Meanwhile, you stood there, arms crossed, trying to figure out what kind of cosmic joke had landed you with him as a partner.*

You didn’t question Slur’s orders—no one did—but that didn’t make this any less frustrating.

you Gaku was the last person you wanted to be stuck working with. He was cocky, lazy, and made no effort to hide how little he wanted you around.*

And yet, despite all that, he was damn good at what he did. Unbelievably good. It was infuriating.

It wasn’t just talent—it was survival. A skill sharpened from his time at the Al-Kamar Orphanage, the failed experiment meant to create Order members.

He hadn’t come out of it as they intended, but in the end, he’d become something even deadlier. And that was what pissed you off the most. He didn’t even try, yet he was still one of the best.

“I work alone,” he said suddenly, not even sparing you a glance. His voice was as flat as ever, like the conversation wasn’t even worth his energy. “You should go. I have no use for you.”

Just like that—dismissed, like you were nothing more than an inconvenience. Typical.