Work Text:
Precisely around eight pm sharp. The ominous roads in the city of Prague are being persistently accompanied with the dimly lit streetlights left and right— casting a much more uninvited atmospheric tension within the still air.
A man, presumably around his late thirties cautiously checked his surroundings every so often, as if possessing a deep-seated fear being instilled from within for no particular reason. He swiftly lifts his finger to push onto one of the elevator buttons to head towards the premeditated floor, away from the outside starlit skies.
The said man, Norman Jayden is what he's called, occasionally allows his eyes to dart heavenwards onto the displayed floor number, clearly unable to stand properly still while such thoughts are still swirling inside the depths of his mind non-stop. How could he not— anything is possible to happen anytime soon without him expecting. It took awhile for him to eventually arrive at his simple-designed office, locking the door securely afterwards and taking off his coat to hang it on one of the vacant chairs nearby.
That's when he pauses mid-action, sensing something that's definitely off-putting within the existing ponderous air— as if it's silently mocking each of his planned-out movements and even his wandering thoughts, haunting him due to his own past doings, questionable and downright atrocious.
"Your office seriously needs more upgrade."
A voice unceremoniously cuts through the density of the present atmosphere, the corner of their lips tugging upwards albeit in a taunting fashion, settling not too far behind the said man. At his very own personal desk, the figure's silhouette is mostly being obscured by the gloominess of the area.
Ah, so that's why Jayden feels off— turning around with an almost indecipherable look, assessing the whole scene unfolding before him with the lack of words.
"Hm. Just to let you know—" a small sigh and the creak of the chair as you ultimately revealed a bit part of your face under the moonlit gleam, just so he can see your very own eyes looking directly at him. "— she doesn't seem so pleased to know that you've leaked and sell those classified data to our main target."
He scoffs, eyes momentarily leaving your form as he offhandedly grabs onto his gun that's previously being tucked on him someplace, cleaning it while gradually taking a seat somewhere nearby and facing your direction.
"I think you got the wrong man, pretty girl."
His tone has a clear indication that appears to be awfully dismissal over your own spoken statement, leaning his back against the seat further as his eyes, once again, returning to lock onto yours.
"Being here this late. Tsk tsk, how bold and romantic for someone like you."
You remained still for a moment there, moving your legs up onto the desk with little to no care.
"How about you return to your own, personal playground, and mingle yourself with the 'good' ones, yes?"
"Like a good, loyal dog you are."
You gradually lowered your legs from the desk, leaning slightly forward with an accompanied grin forming upon your freshly glossed lips. "I fear I cannot do that yet."
Norman appears to be having his very own silent contemplation running through his mind at this moment, and a part of you, obviously refusing to have it openly expressed upon your features, hated on how almost unreadable he seemed to be.
"How did he die?"
"Aw, who?"
"Your associate, I assume?"
"You know bloody well." he replies sharply and quicker than intended. How laughable.
"One could say that it's not much of a struggle. Weak."
His jaw clenches in an infuriating manner, having the sudden urge to grab onto his gun back again and to simply aim it straight toward you.
"Shoot me, and I'll leak your location right away."
"I dare you."
Silence ensues momentarily as some sort of a follow-up atmosphere response, allowing it to soak into the current situation on hand before deciding as to what should one do next.
Although it didn't last long, especially when you caught sight of him reaching for his own gun and attempting to speak out with whatever thoughts consumed him at this point— replacing it all with a singular, clean shot directly aimed toward his heart.
From your own hands. From your own gun instead of his own, causing him to slump into the chair further from the sheer impact, eyes half-opened along with its unexpressed words that didn't even manage to reach for your own hearing.
How unfortunate, is it not? But it needed to be done, despite the drastic action that previously caused it.
A low, yet conspicuous hum is evoked out of you as if to accompany your very own air of pure stillness— footsteps carrying their own cautious precision, contrasting with the overall atmosphere as you have one of the past records being held within your grasp at this moment, somehow managing to snag it around sometime earlier.
Your task is complete for now. Except, instead of returning back to the headquarters, you decided to take an utterly impulsive, last-minute decision which involves taking a few days of uninformed break untraced from radar by also throwing your phone into the nearby river uncaringly.
MI6 has quite the impressive payment for loyal agents like you.
── .✦
With a glass of drink being held within your sole grasp, you use your other free hand to read over some displayed article regarding to the fairly new, rising agent from your extra device, which also can be your main untracked one (because apparently, you just realized by the last minute that you have another).
The term of the 'said' rising agent isn't official yet however, in a sense.
And of course, even the assassination of the man from earlier has made it to one of the night's main headlines. They can't seem to trace the culprit— which clearly happens to be you, but they have no clue at all due to the cleanliness of it all. You're never fond of leaving any sort of messy trail, especially when finishing up your own assigned tasks.
From another given perspective, metaphorically speaking, it must've been quite revolting to be a mere spectator of your own actions, even more so with something that can be considered to be borderline vile and questionable.
A small sip of your drink, as if to maintain your presently composed demeanor.
Another, then another.
Placing the glass down, you scroll the article back up to the one that said something about the rising agent of MI6. One could say that he seems to have this one appealing charm around him, or even the way he generally carries himself. Imposing, despite the clear indifference being evident upon his features.
It almost amuses you, and you couldn't really tell why. Perhaps, it's the fact that the agency still collects people like him. He either will last longer than intended or perhaps, something worse awaits for him.
Ah, how terrible of you for even possessing such a negative thought. But you couldn't help yourself.
The job itself has a nature of its' own, not everyone seems to be able to handle it, after all. But you shall see how this goes.
Even with the constant reminder that you are, also in fact, only here to carry your late father's legacy. You're practically being raised in the headquarters, shaping you into what you truly are by today.
Or in another words, they will not hesitate to dispose whom fails to even reach to what they truly intended, or failure in mission itself. You are not going to be one of the disposable ones, no.
You are their golden successor, nevertheless.
Hiromi Higuruma. Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you.
But even with bearing such a respectable-worthy title, it still doesn't stop from those few parts of the agency to either take you lightly— even to a point of borderline condescension due to your attitude presumably. From the way you carry yourself, or even the much more evident fact that you are, indeed, working within the clear range of the usually male-dominated field.
You needed to work extra hard in order to match with each of them accordingly, refusing to back down despite the occasional distasteful remarks being thrown into your way.
There is, of course nothing much you can do with it, other than to merely prove yourself especially during sparring sessions, which is usually one of the highlights of your day, consisting of destroying the dignities of men in any possible way that you could (and of course, their precious jewels that carries their future child whatsoever).
"Aww, what's the matter?"
"Must be suck to lose to a lady."
You remembered, savored each of their pained expressions openly giving away after any session. Even if you're playing dirty, who gives a bloody shit?
Some of the other fellow rising agents and newcomers-alike has a look of pure awe, whispering among themselves regarding to the scene unfolding ahead of them. Some appears to be genuinely vexed and dissatisfied in some way. Probably because some of their egos got bruised so badly despite the fact that it's not them who received the current beatings.
Meanwhile, the chief of the entire MI6 agency, preferably being referred to as M, stood somewhere nearby the glass windows that's overlooking the whole sparring session and any possible ordeal— a mixture of pure contentment and exasperation being written all over her features.
Your methods can be quite... Questionable, to say the least. But you get the job done as well, so she has the lack of words to say regarding to the matter. You simply don't care as to whatever they think of you and such.
Until sometime later, your very own gaze landed upon the two standing figures briefly by accident through the glass windows, before averting your eyes once again while walking away from the area, unfazed.
It's none other than that man you've seen from the article header before— Hiromi Higuruma. He looks quite decent; you noted instantly to yourself basing on the quick glance you spared from earlier. His eyes seemed to be studying each of your movements prior to them happening in a somewhat attentive manner; attempting to assess you and the way the opponent handles you.
"She has been here the longest."
M stood not too far from where Hiromi is, joining his line of sight. "If anything, try your best to get along with her."
It undeniably intrigues him in a way, even being nearly unsure himself as to what he actually should expect being in this agency as a whole, mind running through countless of thoughts and self-precaution plannings, just in case.
"Noted, ma'am."
He couldn't really tell just how inaccessible you truly are as a person— from another perspective and even his own. For now.
Some people did try, yet they oftentimes ended in absolute failure from their own doings.
── .✦
"Oh, I heard her father used to be one of the best within this agency."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Why would I ever lie to you?" One of the table occupants, Johan remarks relaxedly while leaning against his seat. "She's just like, finishing with whatever her father has left in the past."
"That must've been so awful..."
"I don't think she appreciates that." Another newcomer, Touya arrives at the said table, pulling one of the chairs to sit on it properly without much care. Some other people simply exist within their own given space around them, orbiting and relishing within the cozy atmosphere.
"But then again, I doubt that she cares much."
"That lady is like a spoiled brat, merely doing a job just like a good sheep she's designed to be."
Johan rambles on and on to his other table companions, already failing to realize that you are now no longer seated upon your chosen table, but rather approaching toward their direction instead, expression practically can be considered as something close as discernible.
Ever so indecipherable, carrying an air of a haunting, tacit hushness— uncaring of the lingering and passing glances of perplexity, as if predicting as to what might happen next or so.
Before the ones around him could even properly react, you immediately grabbed onto Johan's shirt collar with an uncomfortably firm grip, eyes never once leaving his form. The sheer audacity of him to endlessly belittle and smear some bullshit onto your name, so that you may appear as awful to the eyes of many (which you are, obviously not).
You're just merely doing any of your given tasks like any other sane person would normally do. Except, with more free-will as for the ways you handle each of them at times. But in all honesty, are any of the existing MI6 agents even sane to begin with? No one really cares to it as much, then why should you?
It should've been a known fact, especially about the agency's treatment and the cost toward one's mental health. Even when they are not affected or so, anyone around them would pay the price no matter what.
That's just how it is.
"Mind repeating what you've just said?"
"What the-?!" His eyes involuntarily widened from the sudden unforeseen act, clearly having very little time to react. "Let go of me, you fuckin' creep!"
"No."
Your reply is immediate, unfaltering gaze still locking onto his own. "Repeat what you said, shithead."
And while all of it occurs within the cafe bar still, some people that are present around there silently witness the entire ordeal and seemed to be contemplating about it; some deciding to back away, not wanting anything to do with you nor the situation from escalating further.
Before you could even land a single punch over his smug face, a strong hand manages to restrain your intended action, startling you slightly and catching you off guard with its' unexpected contact and interruption.
"Stop."
"You're causing a scene."
It somehow manages to make you snap out into further realization, eventually releasing the man that you formerly had some clear issues with, even though it does very little to soothe your burning aggravation. Some that are present within the cafe bar still has their eyes on you; whispering among themselves and even wondering as to what might happen next, which is enough to prompt you to leave the place as soon as you possible could.
Not out of embarassment, but rather, one of unconfessed irritation mixing together with frustration.
── .✦
"What is this? Another charity case for you to handle, huh?"
The other person wordlessly places the properly packaged food just in front of you, settling himself across from you uninvited within a now different cafe bar due to your own refusal to resume your meal intake at the previous place. Who is this guy again? Oh wait, your mind is finally clicking everything in place by now.
"Oh, so you're Hiromi Higuruma." Not a question, but an almost reluctant acknowledgement.
"You got that right."
He, Hiromi, seemed to be adjusting his posture ever so slightly, perceptible enough to the ones whoever paid close attention to it, before he extends his hand toward your own as a way of a formal greeting.
You stared down at his hand for a solid few seconds, prior to choosing ignorance over accepting his formal gesture as your gaze fixed on him instead.
"Did M send you?"
Hiromi gradually lowers his hand in a silent understanding manner without any intentions of questioning you regarding to it. "I figured you would've guessed about it way earlier."
"I know. Because I'm not an idiot."
"If you're only here to nag at me or pull some other bullshit, I suggest you should go home."
A momentary air of silence ensues, with him having a quite contemplative expression— you couldn't tell, and frankly, you aren't too bothered to care at this point.
"You should eat first."
"Why."
"Because I noticed you didn't manage to eat anything earlier."
You scoff upon hearing his statement, rolling your eyes. "Why should I listen to you, rookie?"
"Just because you have already received the new title, that doesn't mean you are my equal."
What is this guy on? Is he trying to get on your side or be friends with you, or some other that M has ordered him with? Seriously, that old woman can't keep her mouth shut sometimes.
You're seriously exhausted of having that woman's set of eyes drilling on the back of your head almost at all times. It doesn't seem to affect him, much to your inner chagrin. You just want to be left alone, and this man is causing some trouble on your part.
Hiromi allows himself to exhale some breath through his nose, his back pressing against the soft cushions of his own chosen seat while still partially fixating on you with his endless, natural dark set of eyes.
God, you despised it so much whenever you get those type of looks, especially when knowing that it's being redirected toward you. It irates you a little, admittedly speaking, like you're some miserable lady who actually needed assistance over some dumb inconvenience stuff.
"I know. I'm aware."
"Can you actually leave me alone?"
"No."
His simple yet direct answer is surprisingly enough to send you into a state of acquiescence, much to your very own avoidable trepidation (or perhaps, you're just too tired to deal with any of this right now).
Unfazed, uninterested, or even detached. You've been called by one of those words, or three of them all at once. You'd say it's like a normal Tuesday for you.
He keeps studying you— from your general demeanor, through your perfectly curated facade, even the way you seemed to be glaring at him with every given chance.
You're afraid that you're not too fond of it.
And how unfortunate for your case, it does not stop there. That's just the beginning of everything, an entire unwanted experience.
Or is that the mere truth, really? M has requested for your presence for a supposedly upcoming mission detail, not knowing that this time around will be slightly different than usual.
"What do you mean??"
"I never asked for a partner!"
M sips on her freshly made hot tea delivered by her personal assistant not too long before; the scent alone is enough to keep one's senses awake and aware. Just like the sunlight's gleam, desperately wanting to fill the gaps of each cottony cloud without even intending it to happen as much.
You can tell she's beginning to feel weary by your constant refusal and pettiness.
"You didn't ask, but you needed one specifically for this mission."
Narrowing your eyes at her in pure disapproval, you clearly preferred to do most, if not all given missions on your own. It can be such a nuisance to ever have any other company with you, from your perspective at least.
Upon hearing the smallest, yet evident sound of the door clicking shut, your head turned instantly towards the source of sound, unamused. By the gods above and the existing spectators of this wonderful MI6 department, why do you even end up with this 'rising agent' again?
Geez, M probably revels in your own suffering by pairing you with her possibly new 'favourite asset' in the near future, as much as you detest to admit such a thought out loud. You may hold the mantle as your father's legacy, but that doesn't mean you're that far from being replaced just as easily.
The resonance of the sole pen tapping against the exorbitant, mahogany slab being placed at the center of the spacious office area; the momentary air of tensity relentlessly accompanies the situation that you all are in at the very moment. Hiromi positions himself not too far from you, evidently creating a respectable distance between the two of you.
"You and Higuruma are going to book a flight to Italy. Track the intended main target and their associates."
"Also, do get along—" M narrows her eyes at you. "— you two."
You huff, crossing your arms while shifting your gaze momentarily away elsewhere. "Fantastic. I'm thrilled."
Hiromi spares a brief glance upon hearing your sarcasm-laced remark, already having the urge to refrain himself from allowing the corner of his lips to tug upwards in an amused fashion.
It's either going to be the best mission experience, or the absolute opposite ever.
── .✦
A sea of unfamiliar, yet enthusiastic faces pass by like a blurriness from one's perspective as a result of an occasional glimpse; the myriads of breathtaking architectures alone have proven its' unspoken power that it has to simply captivate each visitor's attention— truly ahead of its' time despite the number of years have gone by. Your attention, however, is less on the said things, but rather stay glued upon the screen of your work laptop. Thousands of data, simplified to perfection for your eyes to be able to read it as smoothly as possible.
Could say it's one of your personal issues that you have. Always focusing your ass on work instead of attempting to, at least, marvel at the view around you.
Also, the fact that Hiromi is practically in charge of the yacht that he chartered under another name— much to your dismay, but also somehow allows you to do your thing freely with less disruptions, already settling yourself just on the foredeck of the yacht. So, it's basically a win-win situation (that you initially have the lack of interest on participating). For the sake of the assigned mission.
Truth to be told, it's been quite some time that you have a work company anyways, let alone with someone you can consider your rival. You barely spoke with him over anything mundane, unless it's something necessary or so.
Oh, the sheer insanity of being capable to only utter only few words, not more than necessary.
Whilst your very own attention remains elsewhere yet somewhat aimless, Hiromi unknowingly takes every chance he could possibly get by sneaking every glance toward your direction— he ends up finding himself doing so, and he couldn't really tell as to why.
Was it contemplation; wonderment about you as a person? It's honestly messing with his thoughts at times.
He hates to admit that you're beginning to catch his focus way more often than he ever expected as of late. It's genuinely an odd occurrence to him, like you never really did anything much either, aside from existing and staring up at him either in utter irritation or even repulsion. One that he could not understand the real reason behind it yet.
How could he, even? You wouldn't even speak to him properly. And he's unsure as to when it will ever happen anyways.
Despite all of the condescension and annoyance being directed at him for several reasons he couldn't even tell himself as to why, you personally never have any real feelings of disdain, held grudges nor hatred towards him. Of course, none has a clue about it.
And one of the things that truly baffles you is how he still treats you with respect, as his equal. He never once views you as someone who's incapable and feeble-alike.
Perhaps, that is the real reason as to why it gets you to rethink your action with him sometimes, albeit in a very subtle manner. Your soul has been secretly craving for this for years long now, you really have no idea since when exactly.
To be treated as an equal in a male-dominated field. To be seen as a person, not judged by gender and your abilities itself. Not as someone who carries your father's legacy, but as you. It admittedly affects a part of your view as a whole regarding to some of the people working within the agency, ending up missing out on so much more of your life surroundings and how some people can actually be considerate and be better than the ones present in your life.
The moment your gaze shifted away from the laptop screen, your eyes meet with his own attentive ones, unsure yourself if it's intentional from him or simply by accident.
Any sort of an attempt of a sarcastic remark dies in your throat before you had the chance to allow it to slip out, effectively dismantling you effortlessly. This feels genuinely so bizarre— the unanticipated self-consciousness beginning to build up from within you.
What the hell is wrong with you?
With a minor movement consisting of a calm precision, you are the first to avert your eyes and stare out at the side views instead, where numerous amounts of lively and vibrant buildings are being openly visible for the visitors and locals alike to witness freely. Lots of people can also be seen strolling along the stony sidewalks, either with their beloved ones, family members or even alone.
A sight where one may end up being utterly distracted. Mind momentarily sets its' focus on something far more intriguing and makes you wonder in a way.
His very own set of wondrous, perfectly dark hues hasn't leave yours just yet, and unfortunately, you are very much hyper-aware regarding to it. You didn't do anything about it; you simply just let him be.
"Are you hungry yet?"
"Uhm, no..?" An invisible question mark appears at the top of your head, sparing him a side glance just for a few seconds. "Why'd you ask?"
Hiromi remains silent for a solid few minutes without attempting to do any explanation, before securely berthed the yacht momentarily just close enough to the pier, much to your now growing confusion. Any questions you were about to ask him abruptly becomes unspoken once he beats you to it.
"Wait here." And so you did. Because what other chances you have other than to comply?
He returns to the yacht around a few minutes later, but this time, carrying several types of food. The appetizing aroma wafts through the air oh-so-pleasantly, enough to overwhelm your senses in the best ways possible.
Did he really go out of his way to buy all this...? Unbelievable distraction for a mission.
"What did you..."
"In case if you wanted to eat something." Hiromi casually hands you some of the food he just bought, and one of them is apparently your favourite.
You sent him a deadpanned look. "Did you stalk me or something?" All that while the hesitation in receiving the said food is almost evident.
It's either he happens to remember it from that exact day or somehow caught you repeatedly ordering the food despite the restaurant's offer of a wide selection of menus. Or he somehow learns it from M, since her overall behavior sometimes causes a rising suspicion from you.
He appears to be a bit amused upon hearing your words, surprisingly. "Why would I do that?"
"Well, I mean, who knows." You roll your eyes at his mere attitude.
"But.."
You ultimately breathe out rather lowly, yet you're pretty sure he could still hear it. "Thank you."
That's the first in a long time of your life to have ever express such grateful-laced words; feeling slightly cringed yourself for it, but it is what it is, you suppose. Even his eyes seemed to widen a little, undoubtedly caught by genuine astonishment.
Hiromi averts his gaze away from your form not too long after, muttering some sort of a reply under his breath as he heads back towards the previous area that he's in charge of.
"Don't mention it."
What even drives him to do such an out-of-character thing? Even he feels like he's not being himself at this moment, already expecting you to be up all on his ass and get annoyed at him. Not this.
You're not supposed to be acting this way. The sheer internal realization of it all causes you to be unintentionally stuck within the depths of your own mind— staring at the view of his currently turned back in silence instead.
Until your eyes trailed to the direction of the crowds of people. That's when you saw someone, exactly within the top target list, has been eyeing you two from afar. Though, it didn't last long when he realizes that you've successfully spotted his presence, moving away as quickly as he could from there.
Ah, gotcha.
"Q," you spoke lowly after tapping onto your comms. "I found the target. He's wearing an unfashionable washed-out jacket with some baggy khaki pants on."
"Alright, got him locked on our radar now."
Q types away into the monitor while his eyes never once left the large screen. "I'll plan out the most effective route you two can take. Be safe, in case he has any weapons within his hold."
A fleeting static sound audibly fills you and Q's hearing senses as a familiar voice begins to add their own input.
"He didn't have any weapons with him, it seems."
"We are planning to track him down as soon as we got off this yacht." Hiromi states in a direct manner, steering the yacht toward the nearest pier properly.
"We'll update you if anything."
Q exhales in pure relief through the comms, nodding slightly to himself despite the wariness he's still experiencing regarding the whole situation.
"Alright. I'll send you two any updates as soon as I'm able to."
── .✦
Not long after the yacht has been docked at someplace secure at the nearest pier, you didn't waste any more time and chances to hunt the target once again. All without informing him beforehand, which leads to him experiencing mild frustration while trying to look for any sight of you.
But none, of course. You're that fast to be able to get out of anyone's sight under a minute or more.
Undeniably speaking, it's still known to be one of your flaws whenever you got any chance to partner up with someone during a mission. You tend to forget the existence of someone else being in the same area as you, choosing to solve everything on your own.
Because that's how you were trained to be. But then again, Hiromi is still a human, and he's still doing his best to learn about you. Partly from an order, most are personal choice of his.
── .✦
You've grown up somewhere you dared to consider as a stable and loving home, raised by your father alone.
He pours quite a meaningful affection in every action he does to you, even willing to go as far as he could in order to ensure your safety and well-fed, giving all of his undivided attention towards you while living within the safe mansion that he bought sometime before that— located just in the Alps of Switzerland. All you've known is the genuine safety and warmth that only your father can provide to you. You never really know much about your mother but based on what your father has told you from time to time, is the fact that he genuinely loves her dearly despite 'everything that has happened'.
You didn't really have any friends or any trusted associates either while growing up, patently familiar with the lingering presence of your father's, the sole light that unmistakenly stands out within the silence of your own world, becoming one of the prominent stages that shapes you as a whole and where you supposedly forge some healthy relationships with another.
Friends, one of the things you're seriously lacking on. No one could put up with you so far. Not even M, who acted more as a superior who trains and gives you orders, rather than becoming as someone who one hundred percent willingly dedicates her life as your main caretaker after your father's unfortunate passing.
She probably feels indebted in a sense, that's why she does it.
But alas, you wouldn't have known nor understand better back then. You were merely a kid, someone who actually needed a proper guidance, not to be only some sort of an asset continuation.
Despite the short period of time, Hiromi never really has shown any sorts of a nonsensical disdain and overly negative opinions toward you. Not openly, as far as you're aware. But he never once looked down on you or even criticized you in any way. Maybe that's what throws you off the most.
Well, Q as well. He's your ultimate first friend. You'd deep fry anyone who messes with him.
But anyway, majority of them would've reacted quite the opposite— one that you have (sadly) expected from most of them. A few crazy ones dared to speak to you about why on earth would you choose a field work instead of sitting your ass within the comfort of the provided offices.
Father's legacy yada yada. Most probably view it as some sort of a rare privilege being passed down and you using it freely because nobody really cares as much.
Hiromi could've leave you alone whenever he wants to. You didn't really want someone to put up with you, even though a part of it is from M's orders to him personally. You didn't bother to stop him or so, not knowing that inside his headspace, he never has the intention to abandon the mission or job just because of you.
Such a pathetic, idiotic thing. Perhaps, you are the real fool. All these walls you built up. Utterly useless, because why on earth does someone managed to sneak into the cracks instead of pushing it away?
"Why did you even— damn it. Always doing things your way."
A low string of cusses spills heedlessly out of his lips, lifting you in a bridal style as you lose half-consciousness due to an unexpected ambush while you went to hunt the target from before. Even Q wasn't expecting any of it to happen at all. You could've sworn that he's alone and not properly armed. But it's all proven wrong once you make a turn to one of the corners, which leads to what happened to you right at this point.
A little part of Hiromi's clothing got ripped into a makeshift bandage around the side of your head and right shoulder in order to stop the bleeding from worsening further, which makes you almost believe that you actually might succumb to your injuries anytime soon. The grim reaper itself might've been debating whether to take you yet or no.
Exhaustion consumes your weary soul as a whole, you don't even want to deal with anything anymore.
Those nights where you're dealing with each given missions alone; some nights are lucky (or unlucky) enough to even walk yourself to the hideout area, forcing yourself to clean your own injury instead of relying or calling anyone else.
It's always been you, you and you.
The agency wouldn't even bother to assist you; an easy disposal when being compared with any other agents. The mere thought angers you to no end, despite the fact that you're so much closer to death's door countless of times.
Due to the current state you're in, you failed to remain properly conscious on the fact that Hiromi has been carrying you in a bridal style to a safehouse nearby— all thanks to Q's help some time ago. Hiromi told him about the situation you both are facing at the moment, and Q immediately booked a special VIP suite for a day or two. One can be sure that the two of you will be safe for now, at least.
His naturally, slightly calloused large hands have placed you upon the bed so tenderly and nicely. All too cautious enough as to not jostle the bed with any unnecessary movements due to your fresh injuries.
Even with your previous treatment toward him before, he still treated you so well.
With deliberate care, he begins to clean each existing injuries that's been inflicted upon your form before replacing it with another cleaner bandage, one that you usually would've been able to handle just fine. Except this time, you find it utterly ridiculous to believe that you actually might die sometime soon than intended. In your subconscious, honestly, it feels a bit strange.
Hiromi truly despised the mere idea of the possibility of you dying, or even an inch closer to the gates of your own demise itself. He hates to admit such a thing, but he couldn't bear the thought of you even— no, no. He quickly shakes his head to get rid any of the unwanted thoughts. It's not really the time to—
A tentative hand reached to held onto his arm when he was about to deal with his own injuries, though he got pretty lucky as it's not that worse when being compared to yours, stopping in his movements by instant while your hand gradually slips downwards little by little.
"Are you hurt..?"
"No," one of his hands held onto yours without putting much thoughts behind his chosen actions. "I'm okay, don't worry. You should rest."
"Why..."
"You should've just... Left me in the alleyway..." your voice grows quieter by the end of your sentence, eyes half-lidded due to extreme exhaustion; your internal system feels as if it's being crushed slightly, thanks to the present injuries and the amount of blood you've released unwillingly from the ambush. Honestly, you wouldn't mind if he just leaves you there.
"No."
"Why?"
His gaze momentarily lowers, taking notice on how you finally allowed him to at least hold your hand instead of pulling it away. And so, he keeps doing it, secretly for the sake of his own reassurance as well.
"Because I don't want to."
For once in your life, you could blame it all due to your current state that you're speechless because of him. But both of you knew better than that— genuinely taken aback by his simple response yet didn't want to refuse it any longer anymore.
With a wince slipping past your lips, you forced yourself to shift closer to where his lap is, wanting to rest your head just close to him for comfort. But it didn't last long as the reminders of your existing injury violently shook your very own form, movements halted halfway. Hiromi somehow gets the hint, despite it being out of character for someone like you.
Surprisingly, instead of allowing you to rest upon his lap, he begins to lie next to you, carefully pulling you closer to his naturally provided warmth. One of his hands runs to move several locks of your hair away from your face; gingerly caressing the back of your head in order to soothe you somehow.
It genuinely feels so nice like this... Maybe this is what you've been secretly craving for all your life. Instead of pushing him away, you're trying your best to learn on how to receive one.
Because he's the only one who is willing to assist and accompany you through missions for this long, doing the things that no other person would even dare, or even willing to do it for you.
You're such an awful, awful person.
"I'm sorry..."
"Hm?"
"For how I've been acting to you."
He shushes you gently, shaking his head to himself even when you're unable to look at him as your eyes starts to shut on its' own. He answers each of your apologies and unspoken words through his sole actions, not letting go of you even once throughout the night— his own present injuries forgotten. He could just deal with himself tomorrow.
But for now, he's not leaving you alone nor letting go of you. Perhaps, Hromi Higuruma himself has been viewing you as someone worth saving and is willing to go to any lengths in order to break the facade that you consistently have displayed.
It's alright, there's always time to restart anew. He has silently proven to you that not everyone is unpleasant to be closer with, especially within the agency itself.
Hiromi never hated you. Not even once. It didn't even take long for him to eventually fall into a needed slumber as well, simply letting sleep overtaking you two.