Chapter Text
“Eh? Sakamoto, you have friends?”
Your gaze immediately wanders to the tattooed hand on Sakamoto’s shoulder, trailing along the arm of the man it belongs to, until you reach his face. Dark brown eyes stare right back at you. That infamous smile of his is what snaps you out of your daze and you merely lower your head, bowing in greeting.
“No offense,” he adds but it’s clear that he doesn’t mean it one bit.
“None taken. You’re not exactly one to talk,” Sakamoto retorts, shrugging the hand off his shoulder before returning to his food. It’s clear he harbors no interest in having a conversation with his friend.
You tentatively label them as that in your mind. Everyone has been doing that for the past few years so you just stick with what’s familiar.
Nagumo takes the seat right next to Sakamoto, much to the other man’s dismay. Your eyes are still on Sakamoto’s face, finding a little humor in how he’s showing his disdain in such an obvious way for once. For most of the time you have spent working together, he has been very in control of his emotions defaulting to a facade of disinterest.
You’d even go one step further and claim that he can turn off his emotions at will.
That is a thought that makes this situation a little funnier, considering he willingly chooses to be so visibly annoyed. You don’t notice that you’re smiling to yourself until Nagumo calls out your name and it’s wiped from your lips in an instant.
Embarrassment floods your system and your gaze snaps towards him. Immediately, you try to get your expression under control. The way his smile widened when you turned your face to him tells you that your amusement must have been written right across your face.
“You were in our year, right? I remember your face,” Nagumo tells you, brows furrowed as he thinks about it. “Ah!” – It seems like he remembers whatever memory he was searching for inside his brain. “The weapon geeks. I saw you hanging out with them. You were in the weapon production department!”
The weapon geeks.
Even Sakamoto grimaces slightly at the way Nagumo says it.
“Yeah… That’s correct,” you mumble, wishing you had left a different impression. Somehow, you feel a little embarrassed about your passion and the direction you have taken in your job. You’re still at the beginning of your career so maybe you should look into changing paths.
He’s pointing at you now, realization written right across his face. “You’re the one who was top of the class. You even got to do the speech-”
“That’s enough. Stop pointing at people, it’s rude.”
Repressing the sigh of relief that threatens to leave your lips, you shoot Sakamoto a thankful look which he dismisses with a shake of his head. Nagumo whines, leaning against his friend’s shoulder, undeterred by his attempts to shrug the dark-haired man off.
“What? It’s a nice thing to remember someone’s achievements. I am just trying to leave a good first impression since this is the first time we got to meet face-to-face,” he explains. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you already know everything about him that has traveled around the JAA in the form of gossip.
You also hold back on going on about how you have had a personal interest in the assassin ever since your academy days.
It might have been a crush. The kind you’d harbor for a celebrity and squeal about with your friends during lunch break, but years have passed since then. You’re over it and it’s no big deal now. As an adult, you can easily let go of feelings of the past like that.
Shooting you an innocent smile as his head lies on top of Sakamoto’s shoulder, he asks, “I didn’t actually make you uncomfortable, right?”
You are not over it. Not one bit and especially not when his smile is directed at you like this.
“No, you did not,” you reply, your gaze following Sakamoto as he gets up. Quickly, you gather your things as well, bowing your head slightly in Nagumo’s direction before following the other man.
Nagumo is left behind as he watches the way you hurry behind Sakamoto, a curious smile tugging on his lips.
Cute – he thinks to himself, ripping the latches of the milk carton off the spots where they’re connected to the body of the package, flattening the carton out as he gets up. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses it into a nearby trash can.
He leaves the cafeteria feeling a tinge of elation. Finding good entertainment is always difficult because in this field it tends to not last long. However, this little situation seems like it’ll be worth his time.
The next time you meet Nagumo, it’s not during work or on any of the organization's premises but at a dingy little food place. You’ve barely entered the little establishment when you hear your name being called. Freezing in your step, you whip your head around and you’re met with. . .
A group of teenagers who are not paying any attention to you, whatsoever?
“Over here!” the voice calls out and now you finally turn to the right direction. You're rewarded with the sight of Nagumo sitting at a table all by himself.
Or rather, you’re cursed with it as he waves you over.
Repressing a nervous sigh, you head to where he’s sitting, mentally reminding yourself to act normal. You greet him with a meek “Hello”, offering a hint of a bow in his direction as you stand next to the table. Your eyes trail over to the empty seat across from him. No jacket or bag of any kind. It’s still a little warm these days, so the lack of outerwear across the back of the chair isn’t too odd. Still, no indication of a second person.
“Is Sakamoto not with you?” you ask curiously. Those two always float around each other, one way or another. Where there’s one of them, the other person isn’t all that far away. It has been that way since you met them for the first time during your academy days.
Nagumo’s brows furrow before the thoughtful expression gives way to that easygoing smile of his. “He’s on a job,” he tells you, leaning back in his seat. It grows quiet between the both of you as you nod, turning away to head to another table.
You don’t know when he has leaned forward so quickly but his long fingers wrap themselves around your wrist in an instant, tugging you back. “You’re here by yourself as well, no?” Nagumo asks and you feel like a fruit fly stuck in a sticky trap.
“Yes?”
“Then join me. Come on!” he laughs, joyfully tugging you into the booth seat right across him. Awkwardly, you bend your knees to avoid hitting the table and soon enough, your butt hits the soft cushioned seat.
Trapped.
You wonder what kind of food you should use as your convenient excuse to fake an allergic reaction. If anything helps get you out of a sticky situation, it’s that. Maybe you could have a friend call you, or perhaps-
“Is there something you can recommend? It’s my first time here and everything looks delicious, so I feel indecisive,” Nagumo inquires, flipping through the menu. His pointer finger travels over the words on the laminated paper as he worries his lower lip between his teeth.
When those dark brown eyes look up at you and he shoots you a smile, you feel glad you're sitting down because it feels like your kneecaps have just evaporated into thin air. “The unagi is really good,” you tell him, leaning forward to point at the picture on the menu. “The gyudon and the cold soba are also delicious. Don’t order the mochi from the dessert section - they’re not very sweet.”
Nagumo blinks at you a few times before a wide grin stretches across his lips and his eyes narrow because of the lift in the apples of his cheeks.
“How did you know that I like sweet stuff? Did Sakamoto tell you?” he asks and you feel a little embarrassed. You couldn’t tell him you had been watching him since your academy days. That you’d make mental notes of every piece of information you could get.
His height (since the girls would ask him about it for comparison's sake), his grades, and even his birthday are pieces of information that have buried themselves into the depths of your memory. His birthday was easy to find out about, since everyone back at school had always been gushing about it. Every single year.
His love for sweets had become abundantly clear whenever Valentine’s Day rolled around. It was only when you had caught yourself knowing the entirety of his curriculum that you put a stop to it and distanced yourself.
Finding a stranger attractive is one thing, being a stalker is another.
“You seem like the kind of guy who'd be into sweet stuff,” you mumble, thankful for the waitress who’s by your table the moment you finish your sentence. You try to send her a telepathic message: a big “Thank you!!”. You hope it reaches her.
After you order, the silence stretches between the both of you, only being interrupted every once in a while by the occasional small talk. You can tell he’s holding back on rambling.
Once the food arrives at your table, it seems like Nagumo finally has you where he wants you:
Tied to the table due to the contract put on you by the transaction that is buying food at a restaurant.
You wouldn’t be able to leave until you’ve paid. Were it anyone else, they could have left. Sure. Not you. You are a rule stickler, he knows that much by now.
“So. . . How did you and Sakamoto meet?” Nagumo asks before he puts some of the gyudon in his mouth, chewing slowly. His eyes widen the slightest bit as he nods, looking impressed as he digs in. Seems like he likes it.
With a relieved smile, you pick up your chopsticks. You’re happy he likes your recommendation.
“We were tasked with a pretty complicated job and had to spend quite a bit of time together,” you explain, carefully rearranging the plates and bowls in front of you as you recount the memory fondly.
When you look up again, Nagumo is looking at you with furrowed brows and you feel your smile fall a little, feeling a bit embarrassed at him having caught you looking like that.
It shows in your body language that you feel flustered and awkward about it. A certain expression of understanding tugs on his lips when he sees this and he smiles. He looks amused to a degree which you're not certain you like.
Usually, his smile causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach but this one makes you feel nervous.
Nagumo ends up paying the bill, waving you off when you want to at least pay for your share.
“Don’t worry about it. You can treat me next time,” he tells you. Leaning down until his face is right in front of yours, he grins, “See you soon.”
You’re not sure if you want to allow yourself to feel excited at the prospect of going out with him – a pre-planned meeting at that - just yet. Perhaps he treats others like this all the time or maybe he is just trying to be kind to his friend’s colleague.
If you were able to, you would pay the money that you just saved for a glimpse into his mind.
It would be worth finding out, considering how happy he looks when he walks off.
After that, you end up running into Nagumo more often.
At the JAA building, on JCC grounds, and even at the store. Most of the time, he walks over and strikes up a conversation with you. Your topics of conversation range from daily small talk to deep discussions of jobs, hobbies outside of the whole killing shtik, and even more sophisticated topics, such as books and movies. This goes on for months.
Soon enough, you find yourself thinking of him as more than just the guy at school or work that you find cute. Dare you say, he might be a friend.
Recently, he’s been absent quite a bit and you start to miss his presence in your life. You do see him but you’re busy with another job that requires you to work with Sakamoto once more and Nagumo seems to be keeping his distance too. Maybe to save himself from the snarky comments by his friend. Perhaps to show a little empathy in regards to your busy schedule.
All you know is that he still looks happy even though he simply waves and smiles at you from a distance while passing by. The smile on his face looks particularly smug these days. You don’t know what to make of it. Just like that, fall and winter pass before you can embrace the change of the seasons.
It is in spring that you run into him again.
Friday evenings at the local grocery store seem like they’d be busy but you've mastered the art of being there at the perfect time – after all the families have finished their weekly shopping and before the drunk people your age have decided that they need to satisfy a food craving.
You’re in the fruit aisle when you feel someone’s presence behind you before their hands settle on your shoulders.
“Those are on sale,” the man tells you, turning your body about 30° to the left so you’re facing the chocolate-covered fruit. With a groan, you twist your body just enough to be able to look up at Nagumo.
“Buy them yourself,” you tell him, shrugging his hand off your shoulder as you grab a little carton filled with strawberries. Putting them in your basket, you walk towards the drink aisle and you hear the sound of Nagumo’s flip-flops against the cold tile floor of the little store.
“Aren’t you cold?” you ask, picking up some water. Smooth as it gets, Nagumo’s hands move to take the six-pack of water out of your hands so he can put it onto the lower tray. Raising a brow at him, you say, “I’m not going to buy you any snacks.”
“Aw, come on. That wasn’t what I was getting at. I’m just helping a friend out,” Nagumo groans. “I’m not a leech, ya know?”
You stay quiet for a moment. Waiting.
“But if you could–”
Intercepting with a sigh, you reach out to the closest shelf, grab some chocolate, and chuck it into your cart. When you turn to look at him, Nagumo is grinning victoriously. By now, you’ve gotten used to his presence but you would be lying if you said that his smile doesn't still stir your heart up.
Nagumo is your friend but he's also the guy you are in love with.
Somehow, he ends up tagging along, pushing your cart for you while you pick out whatever wares you need. While you're trying to figure out just how many sweet potatoes you want, he speaks up.
“I missed you a little.”
You will yourself not to show how your heart jumps at his words. “Really now?” you ask, raising a brow in his direction before grabbing four potatoes, weighing them, and putting them in a plastic bag which you stick the little price tag onto.
“Really now. If you and Sakamoto aren't there to entertain me, the job gets a little boring.” He grabs the bag from you and puts it in the cart.
“How was it? Working with him?” For some reason, while Nagumo's question sounds like a genuine one out of curiosity, the tinge of mirth that accompanies his words is a little suspicious. Like there's a double meaning. Is he waiting for you to spill Sakamoto’s dirty secrets?
You hesitate for a moment, turning towards him, a bag of chips in your hand. Those dark eyes are fixed upon you as he's hunched over, displaying all the ease in the world. Arms propped up against the shopping cart, he tilts his head and you feel like you might melt away.
It's a little ridiculous to be swooning over his ever move like this.
“It was good. Sakamoto is a nice person to work with,” you tell him earnestly, putting the bag of chips away. It's not like you're that into this brand anyway. “It's fun to throw whatever I have created at him and see what he does with it. It's very inspiring.”
It's true – Sakamoto Taro is a prodigy, someone who could turn anything into a weapon. Even just watching him fight supplies you with endless amounts of drive to further pursue your passion, so that you can come up with the most versatile set of weapons.
“It's a joy to work with him. I don't know if I have ever felt this inspired,” you drift off, babbling about your mission and your ideas without abandon. Nagumo is quiet for once, listening to you go on and on, even helping you put your groceries into bags once you've paid for them.
“But I think he's happy to be rid of me for a while,” you joke lightly as you walk out of the store together. Turning right, you start to slowly head home. It's almost entirely dark outside, the sun only barely peeks over the horizon as she bids her goodbye. Walking side by side, the only thing disrupting the peaceful conversation is the rustling of the bags you're both carrying. “I am sure you’d feel the same way even after missing me.”
It's quiet for a moment and you realize that it'll feel a little lonely – going on missions by yourself – now that you’ve gotten used to having company. A bittersweet smile tugs on your lips as you two walk together.
“You don't have to put up an act. I already know.”
Stopping, you turn towards Nagumo. That usual smile of his is still tugging on his lips but it's so much softer than what you're used to seeing. He almost looks a little. . .sorry. While you never really put in a lot of work to hide the true feelings that you've been harboring for Nagumo, it feels uncomfortable to be put on the spot like this either way.
Have you let yourself get a little too comfortable around him tonight?
“Don't worry. I won't tell Sakamoto that you're in love with him,” Nagumo tells you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he gently tugs you along to continue your way home. “I’ll tell you what. Maybe I’ll even be able to improve your chances with him.”
There is no paradise for assassins, at least not if you believe in the entire heaven or hell ordeal. If those places exist, assassins will end up in hell anyway, considering that they all have blood on their hands. You've made your peace with that thought a long time ago.
You just didn't think your time would be coming so soon. If hell is real, you fear you might be stepping into it right now.
“What?” you ask, feeling like he’s pulling some ridiculous prank on you. Nagumo is known to be perceptive beyond his silly exterior. There is no way he isn’t painfully aware of your feelings.
Handing you your groceries, he smiles down at you. “This is where you live, right?” he asks, tilting his head towards the house behind you. You’d worry about how he managed to find out where you live but you have more important matters that are in need of your mental capacity right now.
Patting your head in a well-meaning way, he steps back before offering you a disarming grin. “I’ll work something out for you and Sakamoto,” he promises and when you open your mouth to argue, he shakes his head dismissively as he turns away.
Nagumo waves you goodbye. Looking at you over his shoulder while he walks off, he exclaims: “Just trust me!”
There are a million things you’d rather do.