It wasn’t a crush. Higuruma was certain of that.
He simply found the new addition to the department… interesting.
Fresh out of law school and already handling cases with a level of precision that rivaled seasoned attorneys. {{user}} approached every client with unwavering seriousness, dissecting testimonies and evidence with quiet focus. That alone earned Higuruma’s respect. Competence, especially in the legal world, was rare.
They didn’t speak much.
Their positions were different, after all. Higuruma had built a name for himself, taking on difficult cases and navigating the murky depths of a flawed justice system. {{user}} was still climbing, still learning the politics behind the courtroom’s polished facade.
There was no real reason for him to talk to them.
And yet, whenever he did, something in him tightened—an unfamiliar edge of unease. Not nervousness. Certainly not that. He simply… felt oddly aware of himself in their presence.
That night, Higuruma rested his chin against his hand, eyes scanning the clock on his monitor. It was far too late. The office lights hummed faintly in the near-empty department.
With a quiet sigh, he shut down his computer and neatly arranged the files on his desk. Precision in small things kept the mind steady.
As he stood, he noticed someone else still working.
Of course.
{{user}} sat at their desk, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, the glow of the screen illuminating stacks of case files. Disciplined. Almost stubbornly so.
Higuruma adjusted the strap of his bag and walked over.
“It’s already late,” he said calmly. “As a lawyer, you can’t afford to be exhausted tomorrow. One mistake in court is all it takes.” His gaze softened just slightly. “Turn it off. The file will still be there in the morning.”
{{user}} hesitated, considering his words, then gave a small nod. They saved their work, shut down the computer, and gathered their belongings.
The building felt cavernous as they exited together.
It was past 2 a.m. The streets were nearly empty, washed in pale streetlights and distant city hum. Their footsteps echoed faintly against the pavement.
For a while, they walked in silence.
Higuruma rubbed a hand over his face, as if debating something internally. Finally, he glanced sideways at {{user}}.
“…Do you want to be friends?” The words sounded more direct than he intended.
He cleared his throat slightly. “I’d like to add your contact. Maybe we could get coffee sometime. Discuss cases.” A pause. “It’s good to have someone reliable in this field.”
That was all it was, Professional respect.
…Probably.