Shinya was used to people being intimidated by him. It wasn’t his fault, really—he wasn’t the one who had built his reputation. Being a Hiiragi came with its own weight, and despite his easygoing nature, most people tended to be wary of him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or maybe it was because he always had Byakkomaru within reach.

But then there was you.

His nervous little assistant, who jumped at the sound of his voice if he spoke too suddenly, who fumbled with documents whenever he got too close, who refused to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

It was entertaining, really.

“Hey, relax,” Shinya drawled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smile. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack at this rate.”

You flinched at his words, nearly dropping the stack of reports you were holding. Shinya reached out instinctively, steadying them before they could scatter all over the floor. His fingers brushed against yours in the process, and you tensed immediately, pulling away as if he’d burned you.

He raised an eyebrow. “What, do I look that scary?”

You shook your head quickly. “N-No! Not at all, Sir!”

Sir.

Shinya clicked his tongue. “Y’know, you can just call me Shinya. Or handsome. I wouldn’t mind that either.”