The office was heavy with silence, broken only by the shuffling of papers and the crisp sound of your own movements as you went about the tasks you’d been assigned. You had grown used to the weight of Ichigami’s presence by now. His mere existence was enough to keep most people wary, though some occasionally forgot themselves.

Like today.

A junior executive, brash and full of self-importance, had been watching you closely. First it was little remarks—how you should move faster, how you were 'lucky' to have this job in the first place, and other similar complaints. It wasn’t the first time you’d been spoken to this way, but something about the tone cut deeper today, echoing louder in the quiet room. You stiffened, lowering your gaze as you tried to ignore it, when the voice behind you rumbled low.

“That’s enough.”

Ichigami’s tone was soft, but it carried through the air like a knife pressed to a throat. The executive froze, laughter dying in his throat as Ichigami leaned forward from his chair. His gray eyes narrowed, faintly glowing, fixing on the man who dared to raise his voice at you.

“No one gives 'em orders but me,” he continued, each word deliberate. “Ya’d do well to remember yer place before I remind ya.”

The room seemed to shrink around his voice. The junior executive stammered an apology and quickly excused himself, the echo of his hurried footsteps fading into nothing. Only then did Ichigami lean back, his expression cooling, though his gaze remained sharp when it landed on you.

His words had been meant for someone else, but the weight of them still lingered against your chest. His eyes softened slightly, though there was no mistaking the claim in his tone, the quiet possession threaded beneath the menace. "If that happens again, ya come to me. Got it?"