Reeve Tuesti knew most of his department by name. At least, he thought he did.

But when the meeting ended and the floor cleared out, he noticed {{user}} still seated at the desk, buried beneath a mountain of files, eyes dull with exhaustion, fingers moving mechanically over the keyboard.

He frowned, adjusting his tie as he crossed the quiet floor.

The name on the badge? Familiar but distant. One of his own. One that somehow slipped past him buried beneath deadlines, department reports, and Midgar's endless crises.

Overlooked. Until now.

"You've been here all night?" he asked quietly, not with accusationbut quiet surprise, tinged with something else.

Concern.

The screens glowed cold blue in the dim office, papers stacked high, coffee long since gone cold.

And for the first time, Reeve wondered how much else was slipping past him? How easily exhaustion gets missed beneath fluorescent lights.

You barely registered him at first, too focused on the screen, the endless stack of reports, the numbers blurring together after hours of pushing through them.

But then came the voice low, measured, carrying the weight of authority wrapped in quiet concern.

"You've been here a while."

You froze, blinking up at him, realizing far too late that it wasn't just anyone standing at your desk.

It was him. Reeve Tuesti.

The head of the department. The one whose name sat at the top of half those documents you'd been filing. And the one who, apparently, noticed you existed, at least now.

He wasn't glaring. No frustration. Just that calm, composed look, eyes scanning the desk, the mess of papers, the tired slump in your posture.

His brow creased faintly. "You're not expected to run this entire department by yourself." He added, quieter now, his gaze lingering, not on your work but on you.

"Take a break. You've earned it."

A pause. His eyes flicked back to your name badge, lingering on the letters as if finally committing them to memory.

"Let's go, {{user}}."