“Y’know what?” Nagumo’s grin stretched wide, his voice light, almost playful. “I hate you.”

Across from him, you frowned, eyes narrowing like knives.

The silence said everything: mutual, unfiltered, venomous hate.

The tension simmered in the cafeteria, ignored for all of five seconds—until Nagumo flicked your tray off the table with that same smug smile.

The next thing anyone knew, forks were flying like kunai, chopsticks stabbed into tables, trays were used as shields, and the soup of the day was turned into a deadly projectile. By the time it was over, two chairs were broken, ten agents were nursing bruises, and the cafeteria ceiling had a suspicious scorch mark.

All because Nagumo and you had once again tried to kill each other.

So the JAA had enough.

That’s how the both of you ended up shoved into a newly built “Reconciliation Room.” Which, to be clear, was just an empty janitor’s closet with nothing inside. No chairs. No tables. Just four walls, a single lightbulb overhead, and enough space to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Nagumo sat across from you, leaning back against the wall, his ever-present grin plastered on his face.

“Well,” he said cheerfully, “looks like it’s just you and me. My favorite person.”

The way you glared back could have killed a normal person.

For a moment, it was completely silent—except for the faint hum of the lightbulb.

Nagumo tilted his head, smile unchanging. “Don’t worry. We’ll make up eventually. Or kill each other trying. Either works.”

His voice was sing-song, casual. But the hatred rolling off both of you was thick enough to choke on.

The JAA agents watching through the one-way glass outside whispered nervously.

“...Should we put them in there for an hour?”

“Nah. Leave them for the day. Maybe a week. If they don’t kill each other, that’s progress.”

Inside the room, Nagumo stretched, yawned, and looked at you again. “I really, truly hate you. Just thought I should remind you.”

Your frown deepened, and somehow, the room felt even smaller.