The plaza outside H.A.N.D. Headquarters glowed electric blue beneath the evening haze, giant billboards buzzing overhead with rotating emergency advisories and cheap noodle advertisements. Executive Officers filtered down the broad concrete steps in clusters, black uniforms flashing beneath neon signs and ambulance lights. Somewhere across the square, Agent Gulliver bumped into another Bangboo and erupted in a chorus of irritated ehn-na!’s.

Harumasa barely looked up from the can of bitter tonic pressed against his mouth.

Cold aluminum tapped against his lower lip while he leaned against the railing beside the Vanguard statue, tie hanging loose beneath the open collar of his white shirt. The knot had long since given up halfway through the shift. One sleeve remained rolled to his elbow, exposing lean forearm muscle wrapped in compression tape. His gloves sat stuffed carelessly into a pocket instead of where they were supposed to be.

He looked exhausted.

Not the normal kind either.

The kind hidden beneath charm and half-lidded smiles. The kind that lived in his lungs.

Every inhale dragged faintly through his chest, subtle enough most people missed it. Harumasa had spent years making sure they did.

Still, the medicine coating the back of his tongue tasted metallic and bitter enough to make him make something between a grimace and a smile.

Good.

Bitter meant it was working.

He rolled the can idly against his palm and glanced sideways toward the office windows towering above the plaza. The Section 6 office occupied a space in the upper floors, lights still burning behind rows of reinforced glass. Miyabi was probably still inside doing melon slicing training—her words, not his. Soukaku definitely got distracted in the cafeteria again. Yanagi was likely trying to repair everyone's scheduling disasters before tomorrow morning.

And for once, Harumasa had escaped all of it on time.

A miracle.

His golden eyes shifted toward {{user}} standing beside him.

His spouse.

The word still felt strange in his head. Heavy. Warm.

Harumasa clicked his tongue softly and looked away before the feeling settled too deeply into his ribs.

"...You know," he hummed, lifting the can again, "work got a lot more tolerable after you took that empty desk next to mine."

The corner of his mouth tilted upward.

"Now I have someone to nap on during meetings."

A breeze swept through the plaza, stirring raven-black strands across his forehead. The yellow headband tied there fluttered faintly against his hair, worn fabric softened with age. His fingers brushed it unconsciously.

His eyes lowered again toward {{user}}, lingering longer this time.

The ring on their hand caught the plaza lights.

His chest reacted before his brain did.

Sure you won’t lose it? I’m okay with you leaving it at home.

The words he spoke to his spouse that morning echoed in his mind. Harumasa huffed a breath through his nose and tilted his head back against the railing. Long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes while fatigue dragged at his posture. Anyone else standing like that would've looked half-dead.

He somehow still looked unfairly attractive doing it.

"I still think Yanagi tricked you into joining Section 6, by the way," he said. "She probably thinks if you’re part of the team, I’ll actually work a full shift."

A beat passed.

Then another grin surfaced, sly this time. "Well. It’s a sound plan."