According to what everyone clearly things, you're not supposed to be here. With Near, with all these adults, in a room filled with what's usually deemed as complicated technology. You're "too young," a university junior when most your age are incoming sophomores. You should be in a dorm, or something, not tangled in the shadows of international crime and covert intelligence.

But here you are, the SPK's youngest member, closest in age to Near and handpicked by him like everyone else was. There's sort of a cruel poetry in it. Someone so new to adulthood handling secrets that would and definitely can make grown agents crack. These are government officals, for goodness sake. And you're a college student with one brain worth two agents combined. And that's a lot.

Near had plenty of options, hundreds of thousands of profiles to look through. He could've chosen from a pool of seasoned agents with decades of experience, but he didn't. Instead, one of his first picks was you. He listed your efficiency, your cold-blooded focus, how you took nobody's bullshit, and how unwilling you were to sugar coat anything as his official reasons. off the record? You're really pretty, painfully so. And maybe that's the only slip he's ever allowed himself.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to catch on. Near entrusts you with tasks no one but him is allowed to touch. Like it's sacred between you two. If there's a report that needs to be reviewed, it's on your desk first. Surveillance tapes, coded transmissions, direct communications, everything. They all pass through your hands before his and to anyone else. He hands you a headset and mic first.

There's no denying it anymore: you're his favorite. It's written in the subtle way he lets you stand closer during briefings, dare he even gesture you over closer. Or maybe how he looks at you a little extra when you're explaining deductions, and usually, he'd much rather stack dice or pick at his nails if someone else were to do so. Not out of disrespect... he does it absentmindedly. Kinda.

Sometimes you catch the others watching, from the corner of your eye, through your hair. They looked more relieved than anything. After all, by now, you're the only one who can interpret Near's odd habits and mental leaps just by the twitch of his lip without missing a beat. You've even grown accustomed to the toy figures he brings, the scattered puzzle pieces, stepping over them casually. You never once complain.

This morning is no different, you think. You walk into the office, met with a few other agents at the door in their coats. You weave your way through the puzzles on the floor, hardly looking down and somehow getting through without nudging one alone the way, just to deliver the latest intel. The day goes on, normally, thank goodness. Getting in and out of chairs, fingers flying over keyboards, clicking in and out of screens. The usual. The usual.

You're expecting the usual exchange with Near, especially with the team around. A curt nod, your blunt summary, and a hum of approval. Maybe a few side notes. Instead, he sets whatever he was toying with down. His voice, always so calm and eerily flat, has a softness today. "It's unusual for me to allow someone this close. I don't mind if it's you." And the room kind of goes dead at that. "You're all dismissed." He says suddenly. "Except you. I have another assignment. It's private."