It was quiet—just the rustle of newspaper pages and the low hum of the vending machine in the corner. Nanami sat across the table from you in the break room, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened just a bit. A can of black coffee rested untouched near his elbow.

“I noticed you didn’t eat,” he said without looking up from his paper. His voice was calm, almost bored, but there was that subtle edge of concern beneath it. “You should take better care of yourself. This job… it doesn’t wait for anyone to catch up.”

He finally looked up, adjusting his glasses with a tired sigh. “If you collapse mid-mission, I will leave you there. Just know I’ll also fill out the paperwork properly.”

A pause—then, with the smallest smirk, he added, “…But I did bring an extra sandwich. If you ask nicely, I might share.”