MUNDANE HURT: Chapter 15

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When Masayuki Nagano said, "I have something I need to discuss," Masanao Seishu ran through a few possible scenarios in his head.

"I’d like to leave the firm and start my own practice."

This was a common one. However, while Nagano was competent, he still lacked the experience to go independent. Surely, Nagano himself knew this.

"I’m getting married."

Another frequent announcement. But the stern expression Nagano wore wasn’t one of someone about to share happy news.

Whatever the topic, his tense demeanor suggested it wasn’t good news. Perhaps it was something involving the police—a complicated situation with a family member. Nagano’s father had passed away, so could it be his mother, her husband, or perhaps a step-sibling.

Nagano had asked for a thirty-minute meeting, hinting it was a matter requiring some thought. Seishu suggested they grab a meal after work, but Nagano insisted on talking in the office. Relenting, Seishu checked his schedule and set the meeting for the next day, from 3:00 to 3:30 PM.

Even after returning home, Seishu couldn’t shake his curiosity. As his wife chatted about her herb garden, his mind kept returning to Nagano’s request.

I hope it’s nothing too troubling. Nagano was serious to a fault and had a tendency to overthink.

Noticing that Seishu wasn’t paying attention, his wife’s mood soured. Mumbling something about taking a bath, he hurried out of the living room and escaped to the changing room.

It had been nearly fifteen years since Seishu first met Masayuki Nagano. Nagano’s father had committed attempted murder in a financial dispute, and Seishu had been assigned as his defense attorney.

Cases involving money were common, and this one had been just another among many. But Nagano’s mother and 15-year-old Nagano himself had been so devastated they seemed ready to crumble, as if they bore the guilt of the crime themselves. Seishu had even worried they might attempt a family suicide.

Teenage Nagano’s grim, oppressive demeanor had been hard to witness. When Seishu learned the victim had been the father of one of Nagano’s classmates, he felt a pang of sorrow imagining what the boy must have endured at such a sensitive age. With a newborn of his own at the time, the emotions hit even harder.

"If only my legs could be swapped for that kid’s father’s life," Nagano had said, slapping his own thighs. The sight of the boy—talented enough to compete nationally in track and field—making such a heart-wrenching remark was almost unbearable.

For the sake of the victim’s family and to lighten the burden on Nagano and his mother, Seishu worked tirelessly to secure a reduced sentence for Nagano’s father. But the verdict was by the book, offering no concessions.

Even after handling several similar cases, Seishu couldn’t forget Nagano and his mother. Years later, when reviewing applications for the firm’s hiring exam, he immediately recognized Nagano’s name.

Nagano had grown into a serious-minded young man, much as he’d been as a teenager. Looking Seishu in the eye, he said, "I’ve always admired you and wanted to become a lawyer like you. Please allow me to learn by your side," bowing deeply.

While Seishu had always worked diligently, he had no remarkable achievements to show for it. His cases were modest, aligned with his goal of being a lawyer who served ordinary people. But when Nagano said he aspired to be like him, Seishu felt an awkward sense of humility.

After screening the applications, Seishu and his co-manager, Takenouchi, conducted interviews with the final ten candidates. Spreading the files across the table in the meeting room afterward, Takenouchi tapped Nagano’s application and said, "How about him? Seems like a solid choice."

"Are you sure about this?"

Seishu was inclined to recommend Nagano, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was playing favorites just because they knew each other. Nagano wasn’t that fragile teenager anymore. It was possible he had grown into a cunning adult, using flattery and personal ties to gain an advantage in employment.

Then again, this firm isn’t exactly prestigious enough to warrant that kind of scheming, he thought to himself.

"His grades are excellent, and it’s bold of him to say he didn’t even apply to any major firms because he wanted to work here," Takenouchi said, pointing out Nagano’s sincerity. "And being told, ‘I became a lawyer because I looked up to you’? That’s got to be a career highlight, huh?"

Seishu felt his face heat up. "What’s a middle-aged guy like you blushing for?" Takenouchi teased, gathering the documents spread out across the table and placing Nagano’s on top.

"Someone like him—earnest to a fault—is probably better suited for a small firm like ours than a big one. He doesn’t seem like the type to thrive in cutthroat negotiations. Honestly, he’s better off being a champion for justice in a small place like this. Kind of like you."

Takenouchi gave Seishu’s shoulder a hearty pat and joked, "Make him your protégé."

Nagano, their promising new recruit, hadn’t changed much from his younger self. He was still earnest and sincere, though rigid and lacking the flexibility often necessary for social interactions. Yet, that honesty was one of the most critical traits for a lawyer, and Nagano’s sincerity resonated especially well with older clients. They often remarked, "If only I had a grandson like him," after he patiently indulged their repetitive stories without so much as a grimace.

If Nagano’s request was about leaving the firm, Seishu would be quietly devastated. His sharp edges had finally softened in recent years, and he had become a dependable member of the team.

If there was a source of dissatisfaction, it might be the salary, but that wasn’t something Seishu could fix under the current circumstances. Or maybe Nagano wanted to take on more high-profile cases, the kind that left a mark on history.

Sitting in his bath, Seishu let his mind wander. These thoughts made his chest tighten with unease. I’m getting ahead of myself. He splashed water on his face, taking a deep breath to calm down. I won’t know anything for sure until I hear it from him.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Do you have a moment now?"

Nagano’s voice interrupted Seishu as he worked on some documents. For a moment, Seishu tilted his head, puzzled, before remembering.

"Sorry to bother you during work. It’s three o’clock..."

The uncertain tone reminded him of the request Nagano had made yesterday. Despite brooding about it all night, Seishu had forgotten completely after immersing himself in work.

"Give me five—no, ten minutes to finish this."

"Understood. I’ll be waiting in the second consultation room."

Nagano bowed slightly and walked away.

The second consultation room was a private space, unlike the first, which was separated by partitions. Choosing that room might mean Nagano didn’t want anyone else to overhear the conversation—or it might just mean the first room wasn’t available.

Nagano had taken the afternoon off, so the consultation might be personal. Still, Nagano was too straight-laced to blur the line between work and personal matters, which was part of why he was so trustworthy.

Finishing his work, Seishu closed his laptop and told the secretary, "I’m heading to the second consultation room to chat with Nagano—consider it a break." He crossed the office floor, heading toward the back of the building.

Passing the first consultation room, he arrived at the second, its door at the far end. Knowing who was inside, he didn’t bother knocking before opening it.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," Seishu began, stepping into the consultation room.

But the sight before him made him pause. Nagano wasn’t alone. Sitting next to him was a man in a black sweater and dark jeans—an ordinary, nondescript figure at first glance, but what riveted Seishu’s gaze was the man’s face.

His cheeks, chin, and nose were swollen and discolored, a grotesque gradient of blue, red, and yellow. It was unmistakable—someone had beaten him badly. Despite the swelling, the man’s pale complexion was still visible, adding to his haggard appearance.

When the battered man noticed Seishu’s stare, he looked down, avoiding eye contact like someone with something to hide. The second possibility… a troublesome acquaintance, Seishu thought, the phrase leaping into his mind.

"I apologize for taking up your time," Nagano said, standing up and bowing his head. The young man beside him remained seated, hunched over like a wilted flower.

"It’s fine," Seishu replied, taking the seat across from them. With the two seated side by side, it was obvious the consultation was about this man. Judging from Nagano’s stern expression, this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

"This is Tatsuya Nishizaki, a high school classmate of mine," Nagano introduced him.

The man—Nishizaki—kept his gaze on the floor. He didn’t even offer the barest courtesy of a "hello."

"The man who broke into this office recently... was him."

"Broke in, you say... what?" The realization hit him, and he let out a startled exclamation. "You’re serious?"

"I’m truly sorry," Nagano said, bowing so deeply that his forehead nearly touched the table, while Nishizaki merely slumped further into his seat.

Seishu’s thoughts raced. This is completely unexpected. Just last week, there had been an incident of an unauthorized entry into the office. The intruder had escaped after being confronted by security. Nothing was stolen, but the breach had been concerning enough for the firm to consider installing security cameras.

"Forgive me, but… why would someone you know break into our office?" Seishu asked, his confusion evident.

Nagano began explaining.

It started with a chance reunion. After meeting Nishizaki for the first time in years, Nagano had learned that his former classmate was in dire straits—homeless and in poor health. Moved by pity, Nagano had taken Nishizaki into his home.

But Nishizaki had ulterior motives. He needed evidence from a case Nagano was working on, a video footage he intended to steal. When Nagano didn’t bring the files home, Nishizaki grew desperate and attempted to break into the office.

Why was Nishizaki so eager for these legal documents? Because he had gotten entangled with the yakuza. They were using him, demanding he retrieve the case materials—evidence that, if submitted in court, would damage their position.

Seishu processed the story. Breaking into a law office? That’s not something an ordinary thief would do. He had considered that this might be the act of a disgruntled party from a previous case, but the reality was even more troubling: an active case involving organized crime.

"I deeply regret the trouble I’ve caused the office. I intend to take Nishizaki to the police for trespassing after this," Nagano concluded, his tone resolute.

"What?" The word burst from Nishizaki.

"The police? I-I didn’t agree to that!" His swollen lips trembled as he spoke.

"You seem unaware, but what you did is something you can be arrested for!" Nagano's sharp tone lashed out, causing Nishizaki to bite his lip and slump like a withered plant. His voice carried no hesitation—it was clear Nagano was fully intent on turning his former classmate over to the authorities.

If someone had been injured, property damaged, or stolen, Seishu would agree that Nishizaki needed to turn himself in. But given that no actual harm had occurred, leniency seemed reasonable.

"Nagano," Seishu interjected.

Still wearing a stern expression, Nagano turned to him.

"I understand the situation. Since there wasn’t any real damage, and it doesn’t look like there will be any further issues, there’s no need to escalate this by involving the police."

Nagano shook his head firmly.

"No, I can’t let it go like that. Besides, this incident led you to install surveillance cameras in the office. That unnecessary expense is on us."

Nagano’s stubborn streak was in full display.

"This incident may have been the catalyst, but I’ve been considering adding cameras for a while now," Seishu countered, attempting to calm him.

"Even so, it was this incident that made the decision for you. Please, let Nishizaki and me share the cost equally."

"Look, that’s not—"

"Please," Nagano pressed, his tone polite but unyielding.

Seishu cast a glance at Nishizaki. The younger man’s demeanor, bored and detached, seemed to be mocking Nagano’s earnestness. It was clear that Nagano bore most of the responsibility in his own mind, but Seishu couldn’t ignore that the fault largely rested with Nishizaki. And yet, Nishizaki showed no trace of remorse. It was hard not to suspect that Nagano had coerced him into this cost-sharing agreement.

What a mess, Seishu thought, resting his chin on his hand as he considered how best to proceed.

While he understood Nagano’s sense of responsibility, asking him to shoulder part of the cost still didn’t sit well. That said, Nagano’s insistence on sharing the burden also revealed that he couldn’t fully abandon Nishizaki, a sign that their relationship was more than mere acquaintanceship.

Seishu leaned back in his chair, his decision forming. Nishizaki could pay his share as a kind of compensation, but he couldn’t in good conscience accept money from Nagano. Seishu resolved to subtly return Nagano’s portion by adding a little extra to his bonus later—it might go unnoticed by Nagano, but at least I’ll feel better about it.

"All right," Seishu said at last. "You can cover the cost of the cameras and installation. Consider it your way of making amends. Nishizaki, you won’t need to turn yourself in. Since we’re settling this privately, there’s no reason to involve the authorities further. Frankly, I’d rather not spend any more time on this either."

"Thank you," Nagano replied, relief flickering across his face.

“When the costs are finalized, I’ll pay my share immediately. As for Nishizaki, he’s unemployed and broke, so he can’t pay right away. But once he’s back on his feet and can start repaying, I’ll make sure he handles it, even if it’s in installments,” Nagano declared.

“You—don’t just decide that on your own!”

Nishizaki, silent until now, burst out, his stiff expression twitching with tension.

“Installments? Who made you the boss?” His words dripped with anger, but Nagano turned an icy gaze on him—colder and sharper than anything Seishu had ever seen before. The chill in his voice cut through the room.

"I’m calling the shots because someone has to take responsibility—and clearly, you won’t," Nagano said, each word measured and unforgiving.

Nishizaki recoiled, his rage deflating under the weight of Nagano’s unrelenting tone. Seishu felt a glimmer of admiration for Nagano’s resolve but couldn’t shake the tension in the air.

This isn’t over yet, he thought, watching Nishizaki slump back in his seat like a cornered animal.

“Do you have another option?” Nagano asked evenly.

“I’ll borrow from someone I know,” Nishizaki shot back.

“Do you even have someone left who’d lend you money?” Nagano retorted, and Nishizaki fell silent.

“Even if I don’t, I’ll figure something out!” Nishizaki snapped defiantly.

“You won’t figure it out,” Nagano said bluntly. “Whether you’re thinking of borrowing from someone or using a consumer loan, paying back what you owe yourself will help you realize the consequences of what you’ve done.”

“I... I don’t want to deal with this forever!” Nishizaki’s voice cracked, desperation seeping through.

“And whose fault is that? You caused this! If the police had gotten involved, you wouldn’t have had any room to complain. Instead, Seishu-sensei here has chosen to let you settle it financially. Stop whining and take responsibility.”

The tension between the two was palpable, the air bristling with the intensity of their argument. Nagano’s words were flawless, like something from a textbook. But life isn’t lived according to textbooks, and overly righteous words can sometimes corner someone. Isn’t he being too harsh? Seishu thought. After all, this is his friend. Shouldn’t he consider their relationship and show a little more understanding?

Nishizaki, like a chastised child, clamped his mouth shut and turned his face downward, tears glistening in his eyes before he quickly looked away.

“My apologies for arguing like this in front of you,” Nagano said, bowing his head to Seishu.

That’s when Seishu realized—Nishizaki didn’t truly feel sorry for the trouble he caused. Nor did he genuinely agree to cover the surveillance camera costs. It seemed he was merely playing along for appearances’ sake. Yet, despite his lack of remorse, Nishizaki hadn’t run away. He had followed Nagano here and was at least pretending to apologize. Why? Is it because, even after all this, he still wants to remain friends with Nagano? Seishu couldn’t think of another reason.

“I’m truly, deeply sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused,” Nagano said again, taking all the responsibility on himself.

“Enough with the apologies. I was surprised at first, but now that I know what happened, I actually feel relieved. Besides, thanks to you two, I’m getting surveillance cameras installed for free,” Seishu quipped, attempting a lighthearted tone. His attempt at humor, however, fell flat, Seishu suddenly recalled being told by Takenouchi, “You have no sense of humor.”

“Also, I know this is presumptuous of me, but I’d like you to accept this.”

Nagano slid a white envelope across the table. Written on it in clear handwriting was the word “Resignation.” Seishu glanced at Nagano’s face and then back at the envelope, unable to grasp why it was being handed to him.

“What’s this?” Seishu asked, puzzled.

“It’s my resignation,” Nagano said, his expression composed but solemn.

Seishu stared at the envelope and then at Nagano. “Resignation? Why?”

“I cannot allow myself to burden you or this office any further. Please, let me resign.”

A wave of cold sweat ran down Seishu’s back. “No, no, no. The issue of the break-in is settled—you’re covering the costs, and that’s that. There’s no need to quit!”

Nishizaki looked just as shocked. “Wh-what? Why the hell are you quitting?”

“The break-in may be settled, thanks to Seishu’s generosity, but Nishizaki still has other unresolved issues,” Nagano replied.

“Even if Nishizaki has problems, that’s no reason for you to resign,” Seishu countered.

Nagano fell silent, his gaze heavy with unspoken weight. There’s more to this story, Seishu realized. Something Nagano isn’t saying.

"Even if you're planning to resign, I can't accept it without a more convincing reason. You’ll need to provide an explanation that makes sense," Seishu said firmly, his expression growing stern.

Nagano pursed his lips tightly and furrowed his brow, clearly grappling with his thoughts. After a long pause, he finally muttered the same refrain, "I don’t want to cause you any more trouble."

"Whether it’s trouble or not is for me to decide. I can’t make a judgment unless you tell me the whole story. If you’re going to leave, at least explain yourself properly—it’s only fair and respectful to me."

Using words like "fair" and "respectful" seemed to strike a chord with Nagano. His clenched fists relaxed slightly, and he took a deep breath before saying, "Please don’t tell anyone about this." He then began his explanation.

"There’s an unresolved murder case. The main perpetrator is a yakuza, and the victim is an acquaintance of Nishizaki. Nishizaki knows about the circumstances of the case and has also been subjected to violence by the yakuza. I intend to make him file a report with the police, which will hopefully lead to the murder case being opened. I’m planning to take on his defense for this matter."

Seishu blinked. He had expected something far less severe—perhaps debts or petty theft. But a murder case? One involving the yakuza? This was the kind of mess that made him want to bury his head in his hands.

"Are you certain about this murder?" Seishu asked, clinging to the faint hope that it might all be a misunderstanding.

"I’ve been told that the victim was killed and buried. I don’t think it’s a lie," Nagano replied gravely.

Seishu exhaled slowly. This was going to be complicated. But despite the weight of the revelation, he didn’t regret hearing it. He couldn’t afford to.

He nodded thoughtfully. "In that case, Nishizaki should officially hire our firm. If we assign the case to you, you wouldn’t have to leave the firm."

"But Nishizaki is someone who’s caused trouble for the office," Nagano protested.

"We’ll receive compensation for that trouble, won’t we? If he becomes a client, there’s no issue. I’d much rather have you stay—you’re a valuable asset to us now."

Nagano hesitated, saying, “But that still feels... wrong.” Seishu cut him off firmly.

"Honestly, your resignation would hurt us more than anything right now. Stay, if only to help me out."

After much persuasion, Nagano finally relented with a reluctant nod.

Seishu took the resignation letter Nagano had handed him and slipped it into his jacket pocket. This is the kind of thing that’s best disposed of quickly. It’s bad for one’s peace of mind.

A knock on the door broke the moment. "Nagano-san, may I have a moment?" It was the receptionist’s voice.

"What is it?" Nagano asked.

"There’s a call from Mikoshiba-san. He insists on speaking with you. I’ve explained that you’re off today, but he refuses to take no for an answer."

Nagano glanced at Seishu.

"Go ahead. We’ve finished our talk, haven’t we?" Seishu said.

"Yes, but…"

"Unless you’re hiding another heart-stopping revelation?"

"No, I’ve told you everything."

"Then you should go. Mikoshiba won’t listen to anyone but you."

Nagano turned to Nishizaki. "Stay here. I’ll be back shortly." To Seishu, he bowed and said, "Excuse me, I’ll take my leave for now," before stepping out of the room.

Left alone with the trespasser, Seishu sized him up. Even under his sweater, it was clear Nishizaki was thin—"gaunt" was a better word. Despite his apparent connection to the yakuza, he didn’t exude the roughness of a thug. Why was that? Seishu pondered until it hit him— it was his posture. It wasn’t slouched like most delinquents’.

"Hey," the man muttered, breaking the silence.

"What is it?" Seishu asked, expecting another complaint.

"I don’t have any money."

Of course, it was about money.

"As for the security camera costs, a payment plan is fine," Seishu offered.

"Not that. I’m talking about hiring this office. You and that guy decided that on your own, but seriously, I don’t have a single yen."

The man’s situation was clear—no job, no home. If he had intended to hire Nagano privately, he would have needed money even then. Was he planning to bargain for a 'friends discount'? Seishu mused. That’s not happening here.

"If you sign a written agreement, we can discuss flexible payment options," Seishu said.

"Ugh, this is such a hassle," the man spat, his voice tinged with irritation, before looking down again. His attitude grated on Seishu, but in this line of work, he’d learned not to let every outburst get under his skin.

"Have you thought about looking for work?" Seishu tried.

"With my face looking like this? No way anyone’s hiring me for a part-time job or anything."

Seishu had to admit, the bruised and swollen face told a story of violence loud and clear. It would indeed take courage to hire someone with such visible evidence of trouble.

"I can’t even rent a place without money, and then there’s the deposit. Before that, I need to eat or I’ll die. Seriously, I don’t have a dime. Even these lame clothes? Borrowed the cash for them from him." He gestured vaguely toward Nagano’s absence.

The man emphasized his lack of money with a desperate insistence. It was also clear that Nagano hadn’t spoiled him despite their friendship. Nagano had clearly drawn firm boundaries, likely because this was the kind of person who would take advantage if given an inch.

"If you’re struggling that much, have you considered applying for welfare assistance? Just temporarily, until you get back on your feet," Seishu suggested.

The man’s face stiffened instantly. Seishu blinked, surprised by the reaction.

"Just until things stabilize," he added, trying to smooth things over.

But the man’s expression grew darker, his feelings almost painfully transparent. His pride had been wounded.

"I don’t need that. I’ll just work like a normal person," the man said curtly.

"Isn’t the whole point of this conversation that working right now is difficult?" Seishu countered.

The man fell silent again.

Seishu continued, his tone patient but firm. "If you’re serious about hiring us, you’ll need to pay properly for the legal services. We’re flexible in some situations, like with minors or those with severe health issues, but your case doesn’t fall into those categories."

He took a breath before adding, "Why not start by visiting your local government office? If you explain your situation, they can give you advice or connect you with resources. Professionals can help you figure out a clear path forward."

The man remained silent, stubbornly refusing to engage. Seishu glanced at the clock; the thirty minutes he had set aside for this discussion were almost up, and he needed to move on to his next task.

As he was about to rise, a low murmur stopped him.

"This sucks."

It was loud enough that ignoring it wasn’t an option.

"You mean your current situation is difficult?" Seishu asked carefully.

"My body hurts, my face hurts, everything hurts. And on top of that, all I hear is ‘money, money, money,’ or ‘work, work, work.’"

"That’s why I suggested welfare—"

"I told you, I hate that idea!" the man snapped.

"Then perhaps it would be better to drop the idea of hiring us," Seishu said.

The man’s expression wavered. He didn’t say no, didn’t reject the idea of hiring the office. He clearly wanted their help but refused to pay the required fees, rejecting every piece of practical advice offered. In the end, it was all about pride. He was stubbornly clinging to his pride while simultaneously leaning on others.

Still, Nagano’s approach hadn’t been gentle, either. He didn’t mince words in revealing the man’s financial troubles to Seishu, completely disregarding the man’s fragile ego. It was tough, but it was true.

"Nagano can be a bit harsh with his friends," Seishu remarked, observing the man take a deep, steadying breath.

“I think he only acted that way because he’s worried about you—”

Before Seishu could finish, tears spilled from the man’s swollen, discolored eyes. He flinched at the sight. The man hastily wiped at his face, but the tears kept falling, dripping onto his jeans. All it took was the smallest gesture of empathy, and he broke. How much pressure must he be under?

“That bastard can just go die,” the man spat, his voice laced with venom. But Seishu knew better than to take such words at face value. Despite the curse, this man was clearly relying on Nagano. Yet Nagano’s coldness had left him struggling, trying to balance on a crumbling emotional ledge. Still, Seishu found it difficult to muster much sympathy. The man showed no true remorse, and pity only went so far when faced with someone like this.

Some people are just irredeemably weak. Seishu understood that. He also knew that preaching "common sense" to people incapable of coping with it was an exercise in futility.

When Nagano returned to the room, the man scrambled to wipe his face, his frantic movements making him wince in pain. Nagano, unimpressed, looked down at him with eyes as cold as steel.

“We’re leaving,” he said flatly.

“Nagano, could I have a word with you?” Seishu asked, gesturing for Nagano to step outside. Closing the door behind them, he spoke in a low voice to keep their conversation private.

“About him—I’ve only just met him, so I can’t say for sure, but he strikes me as unusually sensitive,” Seishu began.

Nagano’s lips parted slightly, as though he had something to say, but he remained silent.

“He seems proud, but he’s also clearly at his breaking point,” Seishu continued. “Did you notice?”

“Did you talk with him?” Nagano asked, his tone clipped.

“Just a little, about his financial situation. People like him tend to use biting words to mask their true feelings. It’s best not to take them too seriously or back them into a corner.”

Nagano’s face hardened in visible frustration, his usual composure giving way to something sharper.

“He’s an irresponsible and deceitful man,” Nagano said firmly. “He lies without hesitation and manipulates people. I’m tired of being deceived by him.”

Seishu could see that Nagano’s feelings ran deep, but there was a layer of nuance that Nagano might not fully grasp.

“If you feel that way, cutting ties would be perfectly reasonable. No one would fault you for it. So why take on such a troublesome case?”

“Because he formally requested my help.”

Seishu smiled faintly at Nagano’s stoic reply.

“And that’s enough reason for you to help him?”

“I don’t need any other reason.”

“But isn’t he a friend?”

“He’s an acquaintance, not a friend.”

An acquaintance. Yet despite being lied to and betrayed, Nagano still chose to stay involved. Seishu couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Whatever he told you, please leave this matter to me,” Nagano said, drawing a firm line. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t cause any trouble for you or the office.”

It was rare to see Nagano so stubborn, so insistent. Seishu couldn’t help but wonder what drove this behavior.

He’s angry, Seishu realized. He’s been angry this whole time. Angry at the man for his lies, his betrayal. But isn’t anger born of disappointment? And isn’t disappointment rooted in trust? Nagano must have cared deeply about him once.

Now, it almost seemed like Nagano’s insistence on staying involved was a form of revenge—calculated, cold, and detached. And yet, why had the man sought Nagano’s help in the first place, knowing how coldly he’d be treated?

Their relationship was like two jagged spheres smashing into each other, fracturing further with every collision. Seishu wasn’t sure how to navigate such a tangled mess of emotions, but he offered what little support he could.

“This could turn into a major case,” he said cautiously. “If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

"Thank you for your consideration," Nagano said, his tone steady yet laced with an unspoken edge. The words carried a dual meaning—part genuine gratitude, part a subtle stay out of this.

Seishu watched as Nagano and the man left the office. The man, his bruised and swollen face partially hidden beneath the hood of his coat—pulled low even though they were indoors—walked hurriedly down the hallway.

What a pair, Seishu thought. The overly serious and unyielding subordinate, paired with the weepy, penniless client who seemed unable to pull himself together. The situation gnawed at his curiosity, leaving him wondering what would happen between them. Yet Nagano’s implicit warning to stay uninvolved lingered, cautioning him against interference.

If only Nagano could ease up on him just a little, Seishu mused as he returned to his desk. He picked up the coffee his secretary had brought him and took a sip, savoring the warmth against the unease that still lingered.

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