The afternoon light spilling through the smart glass walls of Daichi's office was pale and thin, casting soft rectangles across the dark carpet. Outside, the familiar hum of the Import Logistics Department murmured faintly with voices passing, printers whirring, the occasional beep of a handheld scanner from the warehouse below.
Inside, the room was still.
Hasegawa lounged comfortably in the chair across from Daichi's desk, one leg crossed over the other, a small amused grin curling at his mouth. His black suit jacket was casually unbuttoned, his elbows resting on the chair's arms as if he had all the time in the world.
Across from him, Daichi leaned back slightly in his office chair, brow drawn in a light frown, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His round glasses caught the overhead light when he tilted his head, his dark eyes sharp.
"How many times do I have to remind you? You keep insisting on allowing incoming goods even when you know the warehouse is congested," Daichi exhaled heavily, lifting one hand to gesture vaguely. "There's still no shipment update from Mutou-san regarding the return goods to the supplier. So now they're stuck. Stuck at my warehouse."
Hasegawa gave a short laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Oh, yeah— I heard. Mutou-san apparently yelled at Watanabe-san for pushing him to clear out the goods."
Daichi gave another sigh, slumping slightly in his chair. "I know," he muttered, fingers reaching up to remove his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. "Watanabe-san already complained about it to me."
Hasegawa watched him, his grin lingering as he drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest.
"Don't worry too much, senpai. I already spoke to Mutou-san about it. They'll probably sort it out within the next two weeks."
Daichi didn't argue. He just set his glasses down carefully on the desk and rubbed his nose bridge again, a soft sound of exasperation slipping out.
For a moment, Hasegawa simply watched him, his smile softening. Then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his voice dropping just a bit more casual, more personal.
"You know, senpai… you shouldn't let this stress you out so much. You push too hard." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Back when you were the vice president of our club, you were way more laid-back. Almost absent."
Daichi blinked, eyebrows twitching upward, but almost immediately he sighed again and reached for his glasses, slipping them back on. "Don't bring up the past too much," he said flatly, though his voice held a quiet weariness. "I'm afraid you'll slip one day and talk about it in front of someone else."
Hasegawa let out a soft chuckle. "Well, what do you expect? You keep refusing to have drinks with me outside of work."
Daichi didn't answer, merely glancing away with a subtle tightening of his mouth.
Hasegawa tilted his head. "Ever wonder how the old club members are doing?"
That caught Daichi's attention. His brow furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes—but he masked it quickly with a practiced indifference. Still, Hasegawa could read him easily; the grin on his face widened slightly.
"Nanase-san's a schoolteacher now," Hasegawa began. "She's teaching art, as expected. Inoue-san's doing illustration work, mostly for games. You know that game Dragon Breath? Some of her stuff's in there."
Daichi's lips twitched faintly, the corner of his mouth pulling upward just a little.
"And Asakura-san," Hasegawa continued, "she works office like us but does freelance comics on the side."
Daichi gave a small, quiet laugh, shaking his head faintly. For a while, he said nothing, gazing at a point somewhere past Hasegawa's shoulder, before softly asking, "Do you still keep in touch with them?"
Hasegawa leaned back, one hand brushing through his brunette hair. "Occasionally. We're adults now, you know. Not as carefree as back then." He smiled a little more wistfully. "Last time I visited the school was three years ago. The club's still going strong. Your photos are still in the memory books, you know."
Daichi turned his face slightly, voice dropping quieter. "I dropped out, though."
"Yeah," Hasegawa nodded, a little softer now. "But you're still part of the club, senpai. Because of you, it's still there."
Daichi didn't reply immediately, but after a long pause, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Hasegawa's eyes lit up a bit as he leaned forward again, resting his arms on the desk. "You should come visit sometime. Dropping by the old school, looking at old places—it's like opening a time capsule."
Daichi scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes. "That's ridiculous. I was a dropout, remember? No point visiting. I left with a bad reputation, too."
Hasegawa's expression softened. He nodded, understanding. But then his grin crept back.
"Well… maybe you could come with me instead." He tilted his head, voice warming just slightly. "Besides, my mom would be thrilled to see you again. She always treated you like her own. You know that."
Daichi's breath caught faintly, and under it, he murmured softly, "…your mom…"
For a brief second, a small, almost sad smile crossed his face. He looked down at the desk, fingers brushing lightly along its edge.
"I'll think about it," he said quietly. "I'm not ready yet."