You had been working with him at the Okutabi Lab long enough to know him, but without knowing him at all.

Natsuki Seba was the one who actually did the job. The one who actually got his hands dirty. Literally. He went out and came back with blood still clinging to him… his, or someone else's. He reported in with the necessary information, as if talking about death was just one more item on the list.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite. A bookworm, as someone had called you dismissively. Always holed up in the office, buried under projects, holographic schematics, and formulas scribbled in the margin.

You and him spoke very little. Only what was necessary. You almost never worked with him. And yet. Every time you were in the same room with him, you could feel him staring at you, silently, as if trying to understand a complex mechanism he couldn’t quite decipher.

He never spoke a word and he never approached you further. However, every morning, there was a cup of coffee on your desk, just the way you like it. And when it happened —too many times— that you dozed off in your chair with your head slumped over your papers and notes, he made sure you woke up with a blanket draped over your shoulders.

You never saw him do it. You just knew it was him…

Despite that, you both kept your distance. You wanted to preserve professionalism and control, as if pretending indifference were enough to keep everything in check.

However, something was off that evening. You were still in your office when you heard someone knock on the door. Three knocks. Precise and distinct. You didn't even have to open the door to know who it was.

Natsuki only entered after you gave permission, closing the door behind him. In his hands was his suit, the one that made him invisible. The suit was made of a special kind of material and was folded neatly. You saw right away that there were some dark spots on it, as if it was put to extreme test. He put it on your desk with a slow and deliberate movement.

“Could you take a look at it?”

he asked, his tone as flat as ever.

“It’s been acting up for a while. It’s not working the way it should.”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow slightly.

You knew perfectly well that at the JCC, he had been the best in his department, the one that was in charge of weapons development. And you were also perfectly well aware that he did not need you for such a simple repair.

Was it an excuse to try to get closer to you? Did he really want to shorten the distance you had both kept for so long?