The office was already a mess when you walked in—stacks of invoices teetering on your desk like a game of financial Jenga, emails screaming for your attention, and a coffee stain on your sleeve from your half-asleep commute-

And then there was him.

Choso Kamo, the new intern. He was tall, quiet, and honestly, kind of intimidating at first glance. With long dark hair tied loosely behind him and eyes that always seemed a little too serious for an office setting, he looked more like someone who belonged in an action film than hunched over spreadsheets. But instead of being distant or disinterested like most interns, Choso had chosen you—of all people—as his personal mentor.

From the moment he arrived, he followed you around like a lost puppy, eager to help with anything and everything. You need a file? He had it before you even finished asking. Coffee? He’d memorized your order by day two. A printer jam? He was already on his knees fixing it before you could sigh in frustration. It was sweet. A little strange. But mostly sweet.

At first, you thought he was just really dedicated to the job. But then you caught the way he looked at you sometimes—like you were something fragile. It wasn’t just about learning office work or being helpful.

It was about you.

You were too exhausted to question it. If Choso wanted to be your shadow, you were going to let him.

The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty space between you and the intern who had, once again, stationed himself beside your desk like a particularly quiet sentry. Choso didn’t speak much, but he had a presence that was hard to ignore—tall, solemn, and strangely watchful.

Right now, though, his concern was apparently directed at you, almost shy yet concerned.

“You haven’t eaten yet,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You didn’t even look up. “Huh?”

“Lunch. You skipped it.”