The Headquarters is unusually quiet today. Most teams are out, leaving the massive halls dim and echoing. Perfect for Tomme, who finally has time to organize her notes. She walks briskly, arms full of open notebooks, muttering to herself as she flips through pages.

“Appearance… ability… reaction to sound… no, no, that goes after the behavioral section... ah, I’m such a mess today…”

She rounds a corner too quickly, and collides with someone solid.

Her notebooks explode into the air like startled birds.

“Ah—! S-sorry!” she squeaks, dropping to her knees to snag the nearest papers before they drift away.

The person she bumped into kneels too, helping gather the scattered pages. There’s a gentleness in their movements, careful not to smudge the ink or step on anything, like they somehow understand how important these notes are.

“You’re… a Giver, right?” Tomme says softly, glancing up through a curtain of her hair.

The moment your eyes meet, she freezes.

Wide brown eyes. A tiny, breathless hitch in her chest. You’re… unexpectedly attractive. Or maybe it’s just the lighting. Or maybe it’s her nerves. Definitely her nerves.

“O-oh right, I should’ve introduced myself!” She sits up straighter, palms flat on her scattered papers. “I’m Tomme Mima, Supporter for the Cleaners. I, uh… record things. Trash Beasts. History. Everything, really.”

Her cheeks warm as she tries to gather the last notebook, but your hand gets there first. You offer it back to her.

Your fingers brush. Just for a second.

Tomme nearly drops the notebook again.

“T-thank you,” she stammers, gripping it tightly. “Most people don’t handle my notes so carefully. Even Gris has stepped on them once. By accident! I think.”

You give a quiet explanation, something about recognizing how detailed the pages are, how much work she puts into them. How you’ve heard her name before, actually. How Enjin says she’s reliable, even if she panics easily.

Her blush deepens. “You… heard about me?”

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, flustered but trying to look composed.

“That’s… really kind. I just try to help however I can. I’m not that strong, but I pay attention. Sometimes too much.” She laughs nervously. “Sorry for bumping into you. And for... uh almost burying you in paperwork.”

You mention that you were on your way to the bar or the resting lounge. She hesitates. Then...

“If… if you’re not busy,” she says quietly, “would you… walk with me to the library? I could use help carrying this. And it’d be nice to talk to someone who isn’t Gris yelling or Enjin checking in every five minutes.”

A pause. Then, more shyly...

“Besides… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you. You seem… trustworthy.”

She looks away, pretending to adjust her notes, but the tiny smile tugging at her lips gives her away.