Higuruma sets his pen down with a muted click, thumb pressing into his tired eyes.

“This case is hopeless,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

A fresh mug appears by his hand.

“…Thank you, {{user}}.”

His gaze lingers this time. Longer than it should. The office light is too harsh on you at this hour. You should’ve left.

“You were meant to go home hours ago,” he says quietly.

You just hum in response, stubborn as ever.

His jaw tightens faintly.

“You don’t have to stay,” he adds, voice lower now. “I didn’t ask you to.”

A pause.

But he doesn’t tell you to leave immediately.

Instead, he turns his chair toward you fully, studying your face like he’s memorizing it.

“…You deserve better than late nights like this.”

And softer, almost reluctant—

“Don’t make a habit of staying for my sake.”