█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █
As the day winds down in Nanami's office, Naaila's voice cuts through the hum of printers and shuffling papers, coming from the phone pressed to your cheek by your shoulder. Piles of paper occupy your hands as you teeter from one side of Nanami's office to the other.
"So, what do you wanna do after work?" Naaila asks.
Pausing, you unload the paperweight onto a nearby surface. Leaning against the expansive window, you look out of the office window wall with a panoramic view of the city skyline. The sunlight paints the room with a golden hue, causing a wave of sleepiness to slowly start to wash over you.
"Indian food sounds good to me," you suggest, breaking momentarily from the office's cinematic view. Seating yourself on one of the plush leather sofas tucked away in the corners of the office, you let the stress of work fly away, taking a moment to yourself.
Naaila, being the sociable person she is has very different plans and means for the night. "What if," she starts, leaving a moment of silence to let her suggestion steep in the air, "we maybe went out tonight. You know, you and me, a little girl time." Naaila's liveliness and itch to party all night long heavily contrast with your laid-back nature. Your mind fills with countless instances to which you've been forced to go out just for the sake of her, but you don't mind it too much, it's all to make your best friend happy.
"I don't know, Naaila. I'm not feeling it tonight," you begin, your words met with her forceful interjection.
"We haven't been out in ages," she whines like a toddler begging for a toy.
"Naaila, I—" She cuts you off again, determined to sway your decision.
"But we really need this, and it's been so long."
"I can't tonight."
"Is it because you're trying to impress your boss, or iare you really tired?" She presses.
"I genuinely can't." The printer, which has started being uncooperative too starts to aggrevate you. Your finger harshly punches the button on the machine. "Well, look at it this way. This is an opportunity for you to get back out there, and go on a date or two. " you suggest in an attempt to keep her happy.
There's a harshness in her voice when she tells you, "I don't want to go on a date.""Ooh I see."
"See what? What do you see?"
"Ever since you've been hanging around that Gojo guy, you've been different. " you explain, a mischievous tone laced in your voice.
"What do you mean different? I haven't been anything but the same."
Her defensive tone doesn't stop you from taunting her, "Well, you aren't even trying to go on a date for fun anymore. What happened to all those dating apps on your phone?"
"They were taking up my storage and besides I told you."
"Hmm, sure," you tease, your persistence unwavering.
"You're insufferable."
"Love you too," You quip, a parting ding echoing through the phone as you end the call between the both of you. You turn around, face to face with the troublesome printer. A couple of beeps and boops before the printer flashes an irritating "ERROR" code, as if your day can't get even more irksome, it doesn't take long before your attention is torn away from it though.
"Nanamin?" An unfamiliar voice, sounding alarmingly young for anyone in this building. Your head whips around and behind you stands three kids hovering around the door. The boy in front with pale pink hair and two other people peering from behind him. The boy's first words being 'Nanamin' catch you off guard, nearly missing it.
"Who?" You ask but apparently, your words don't travel far, as they go back to talking amongst themselves.
"I told you he wasn't gonna be here." Another voice adds, a not-so-quiet 'tsk' is said.
"Who are you looking for?" You ask again.
"Nanami." Realisation dawns on you, clarifying why the boy mispronounced your boss's last name.
"He went for a break. He'll be back—," you begin to explain, only to be interrupted by a new wave of confusion. "I'm sorry, how did you guys get in here?" The question lingers, as the puzzle of these three kids infiltrating the office without any challenge baffles you.
"We asked the people at the reception," the pink-haired boy replies nonchalantly.
"See guys, I told you we weren't meant to be here." A new unfamiliar voice adds. The kids are still looming around the door, and feeling bad for kicking them out is not something you really want to have to deal with.
You motion for them to come into the office, "It's fine, you guys can just wait here till he arrives." The three kids walk further into the room, looking around the spacious place, with gold lining occasionally appearing. They soon find themselves seated on one of the plush couches past the partition in the room. Instead of spreading out, they all sit on the same one, probably not feeling comfortable enough to do so. Then silence.
The trio venture further into the room, their eyes absorbing the lavish, gold linings which glisten underneath the sun's evening glow. They soon find themselves seated on one of the plush couches in the room. Instead of spreading out, they all sit on the same one, probably not feeling comfortable enough to do so. Then the room descended into silence.
As you resume your battle with the insufferable printer, the kids mirror your silence. As an adult, you should initiate small talk or spark a conversation to life to alleviate the awkwardness. But do you really have to be an adult all the time? Internally sighing, you clear your throat preparing to speak.
"So, like, are you his secretary?" The pink-haired boy breaks the silence, his voice carrying a youthful curiosity.
"Kinda, I'm his personal assistant," you clarify, pausing your task to actively listen to them.
"Ooh," Itadori sighed in understanding.
Curiosity gets the better of you and you blurt out the pressing question in your mind, "How do you guys know Mr. Nanami?"
"He's friends with our teacher. " The girl present responds, her hand propping up her chin on the armrest and her bob-length brown hair falling in front of her face slightly.
"Is anyone even friends with him?" The last boy retorts, his scepticism echoing through the room. He sits, laid back, looking off distantly, a negative tilt to the corners of his mouth.
"You guys don't like your teacher huh?" You chuckle a little, remembering the days you were in high school and despised your teachers. They all collectively chime in, a couple of " He's so annoying." or "He's so dumb." being the most distinguishable comments.
"You know what's so crazy, you look like some sort of celebrity." The brunette states, squinting her eyes at you. The pink-haired boy next to her exclaims explaining how he "thought that too." The two go back and forth naming celebrities you could look like. "What about ______ ?" The brunette looks at him dumbfounded.'
"No she doesn't she- wait actually, 'cause they kinda have the same lips." she adds, the both of them attentively analysing your facial features, causing
a warm flush to rise to your face from the unexpected spotlight."Kugisaki, Itadori stop suffocating her please." the two teens sit back, in synch, eyes still glued to you. You give a polite smile to the boy who offered to break it up. Before you can ask them another question, the door opens and in walks Mr. Nanami who steps back a little bit from surprise at seeing the teens in his office.
"You're finally here Nanamin." The pink-haired boy says standing up and walking towards the confused blond, who just hums in response. Nanami looks at you and the two of you lock eyes from across the room.
"I see you've met Itadori and his friends," he remarks, now standing next to the boy.
"Well, yeah," you respond, a hint of hesitance lingering in your voice.
I guess I haven't met them entirely; I don't know their names.
"We totally forgot," the brunette admits. "My name is Kugisaki Nobara, he's Fushiguro Megumi, and he's Itadori Yuuji." You nod slowly trying your best to keep everyone's names to memory.
"I'm L/N Y/N, pleasure to meet you all."