You have exactly three seconds of peace before Kenji flops onto the couch beside you with a dramatic sigh.

“I need you to do me a solid,” he says, tilting his head back like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

You don’t even look up from your book. “No.”

Kenji gasps. “Wow. No hesitation? No ‘what do you need, Kenji?’ No ‘sure, best friend, I got you’? Cold. Real cold.”

You sigh, finally glancing at him. “Fine. What do you need?”

His entire face lights up. “Okay, so, hypothetically—let’s say I may or may not have accidentally broken one of Castle’s meditation bowls.”

You blink. “How do you accidentally break a metal bowl?”

He waves a hand. “Irrelevant. The point is, I need you to help me fix it before he finds out.”

You just stare at him. “And why would I do that?”

Kenji gives you his best puppy-dog eyes. “Because you love me?”

Before you can respond, Castle’s voice echoes down the hall. “Kenji.”

Kenji is on his feet in an instant. “Welp, that’s my cue to disappear. If anyone asks, you never saw me.”

And just like that, he vanishes into thin air.

You sigh, closing your book. Dealing with Kenji Kishimoto should qualify as a full-time job.