"May I ask," Oki said, her voice low and smooth, each word a dagger dipped in frost, "where the two of you are coming from?"
" No " Rafta said withouthesitation.
Haari's mouth flapped open first, brain scrambling. "Uh—well, see, the thing is—we, um…" He flailed a hand, words tripping over each other. "Needed to check—uh—something. Outside. Super important… thing. Yeah. Critical stuff!" His ramble spiraled into nonsense, voice pitching higher as her glare bore in.
Haari's eyes widened, his hiss sharp and low. "Shut up—do you want to die? Can't you see the gates of hell right in front of us?" His voice trembled, barely audible, as he jerked his head toward Oki, her presence a looming abyss.
Rafta's smirk twitched, his nudge faltering as Oki's stare lasered in, unblinking.
Her eyes narrowed, unblinking. "An 'important thing, hah'" she echoed, slow and deliberate, the calm before a storm. "Outside. For—" she glanced at her watch—"forty minutes, hm?"
Haari swallowed hard, sweat beading. "Uh… yeah. Very… urgent. Emergency-level, even." His hands fidgeted, itching for an escape that wasn't there.
Rafta piped up, voice too chipper. "Food run! Stress relief—team morale, y'know? All for the job!" He flashed a thumbs-up, wilting fast as her stare didn't budge.
Oki's lips thinned, a razor's edge. "Morale," she repeated, letting the word hang like a guillotine. "Fascinating."
The silence stretched, cold and crushing, their doom sealed in her unreadable gaze.
Rafta slapped a hand to his forehead, then stepped forward, chest puffed, flashing a grin that begged don't ask. "We just went out for some fresh air. That's all,"
Oki's eyes narrowed to slits, her voice dropping to a glacial hiss. "It's not even break time yet." She tilted her head, stare piercing. "So, in other words, you were slacking off. Isn't that right?"
The air turned to lead, her words pinning them like bugs. Haari's mouth dried up; Rafta's grin twitched. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating, the hallway a pressure cooker.
Rafta, never one to fold, rallied with a shrug. "Technically, fresh air boosts productivity—keeps the brain sharp! We're just optimizing ourselves for the team, y'know?"
"Optimizing?" Oki's tone oozed sarcasm, sharp enough to cut glass. "If slacking off and disrupting everything is your 'best selves,' I'd hate to see you actually try to tank this place."
Her gaze lasered onto Rafta, unblinking, daring him to dig deeper. He smirked—then boomed, "Objection, Your Honor!" flinging an arm out like a courtroom diva.
Haari's head whipped around, eyes bugging. "Huh?" he croaked, question marks practically sprouting overhead.
In a flash, the scene warped—fluorescent lights morphed into a grand chandelier, the hallway stretching into a courtroom. Oki loomed in the dock, chains clanking around her wrists, her glare smoldering. Rafta strutted forward, a cape billowing behind him, attorney swagger on full blast. Haari blinked from the witness stand, decked in tattered rags, looking like he'd wandered off a medieval set.
"Your Honor!" Rafta bellowed, jabbing a finger at Oki. "This is a gross violation of human rights! The accused, Oki Habi, stands guilty of oppressing her loyal workers—denying them air, freedom, and joy—abusing her iron fist of power!"
Haari facepalmed, muttering, "Oh no… he's lost it."
Rafta paced, cape swishing, voice soaring. "Behold this poor soul—" he swept an arm at Haari, who shrank in his rags—"so broken by her tyranny they can't even afford a decent shirt! Victims of her reign of terror!" Haari shot him a mortified shut up glare, but Rafta plowed on.
Oki's chained figure darkened, eyes flashing. Flames flickered around her, the chains melting into puddles as her fists balled tight. "Rafta…" Her voice rumbled, low and lethal, a volcano about to blow.
"Your Honor!" Rafta roared, oblivious, thrusting both arms skyward. "The accused must be sentenced to life imprisonment for her crimes against freedom!"
Oki's calm shattered. With a snarl, she lunged, flames trailing as her fist rocketed forward—BOOM!—nailing Rafta square in the chest. The fantasy popped like a balloon; he flew back, crashing onto the real hallway floor with a yelp, cape nowhere in sight.
"GAH!" Rafta sprawled, clutching his ribs, reality slamming back. "What the—?!"
Haari winced, stepping back. "Told you, man—psycho mode's a death wish."
Oki loomed over Rafta, fists still steaming, her glare promising more. "Next time," she hissed, "I aim lower."
Rafta sprawled on the floor, one arm flung out, groaning like a fallen hero. "Justice… we demand justice…" he croaked, voice echoing with mock valor.
Oki stormed over, looming like a thundercloud, her shadow swallowing him. "You know very well that I'm in charge of this department," she snapped, voice sharp as a blade. "And as long as I'm here, everything runs by my rules!"
Rafta coughed, rolling onto his side, still milking it. "Justice… will prevail… someday…"he wheezed, defiant to the end.
Oki's foot lashed out—thwack—a swift kick to his shin. "Shut it, or I'll bury you in paperwork 'til you're begging for mercy," she hissed, her glare making him flinch.
She pivoted, eyes locking onto Haari, who stood rooted, heart hammering so loud he swore she could hear it. Her stare stripped his soul bare. "And you…"
"I swear I'll never slack off again!" Haari blurted, voice quaking, hands snapping up in a frantic salute. "Never, ma'am!"
Oki's lips thinned, cold and unyielding. "Good. Back to work—now."
"Yes, ma'am!" he yelped, bolting to his desk, chair screeching as he dove in.
Break time rolled around, the office clock ticking relief, but Haari stayed glued to his screen, fingers flying, too spooked to pause. Oki's footsteps clicked closer, her shadow falling soft this time. "Hey," she said, voice dropping to a casual hum.
Haari shot up like a spring, saluting stiffly, nearly toppling his chair. "Yes, ma'am!"
Oki's brow arched, a flicker of amusement cracking her stern mask. "What's with the soldier act?"
"Respect, ma'am!" Haari barked, still rigid. "For our fearless department leader!"
She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Knock it off, Kichiro-san—relax. I'm sorry about earlier. Rafta's clown show got under my skin—I didn't mean to be so harsh on you."
"No, no, you weren't harsh at all!" he insisted, voice still tight, hands flapping. "It was our fault for leaving during work hours!"
Oki groaned, waving him down"I said cut it out. Go eat your lunch already."
"Yes, ma'am—er, right!" He nodded fast, scooting off, spine still straight as a rod.
As Haari's footsteps faded, a rustle broke the quiet—Rafta's head popped up from behind a desk, where he'd been lurking like a gremlin. His grin stretched wide, eyes glinting. "So, our iron queen's got a soft side, huh? Didn't see that coming—color me shocked!"
Oki's gaze snapped to him, her calm fracturing. "What was that?" Her voice dropped, low and dangerous, a fuse sparking.
Rafta's grin didn't budge. "Just sayin', Oki—didn't peg you for the mushy type—"
WHAM! Oki's fist slammed down, nailing Rafta's skull with a thud that echoed. He yelped, crumpling back, clutching his head. "Ow—mercy!"
She spun to Haari, who'd paused mid-escape, wide-eyed. "Go eat your lunch—now," she barked, her glare brooking no argument.
"Yes, ma'am!" Haari squeaked, bolting off, chair wheels squealing in his wake.
"And you—" Oki whirled back to Rafta, still rubbing his head. She hooked an arm around his neck, yanking him down into a chokehold, his face mashed against her hip. "You're coming with me." Her grip tightened as he flailed, half-laughing, half-gasping.
"W-wait—Oki—uncle!" Rafta wheezed, legs scrambling as she marched off, dragging him like a misbehaving pup toward her office, his protests bouncing down the hall.
Rafta sauntered into the office like a king on vacation, a jumbo coffee sloshing in one hand, his tie dangling like a loose leash. He flopped into his chair with a theatrical sigh, the creak loud enough to turn heads. "Hey there," he drawled, sipping slow, "another glorious day to save the corporate soul from itself."
Oki, buried in a fortress of files, didn't flinch, her pen scratching steady" We wouldn't need saving if certain people actually did their work instead of dragging their feet."she said, voice flat, not sparing him a glance.
Rafta smirked, sprawling back. "Oh, come on. I work… in spirit. My vibes keep this place alive."
She finally flicked her eyes up, unimpressed. "Right. The spirit of procrastination—our true MVP."
"You say that like it's a crime," he said, stretching, arms flailing wide. You know, stress isn't good for you. You should try slacking off sometime—it's an art."
Oki pinched her nose, a groan slipping out. "I don't have time for that nonsense. Unlike you, I actually have work to do."
He grinned, undeterred, sipping loud. Hey, remember when you tried to teach me Excel macros? I was so bad at it, the system almost crashed."
Oki scoffed, a rare smirk tugging her lip. I don't need to remember. I still have PTSD from the mess you made."
"You wound me," Rafta gasped, clutching his chest like a stabbed poet. "But admit it, Oki. My ability to survive in this office with minimal effort is kind of impressive."
She arched a brow, tone dry but amused. "Yes, and I recall spending an entire afternoon fixing the mess you made. I'm still surprised you managed to learn anything after that."
Oki rolled her eyes, but a flicker of a grin betrayed her. Rafta, catching it, leaned in, voice dropping to a stage whisper. "You're making this sound like an epic fantasy novel. Is there a secret villain reveal coming up?"
She didn't blink. ""Yeah, the villain is whoever keeps whispering during my work."
He wasn't fazed. As she flipped a file, he murmured again, You know, if you added a dramatic pause here, this could really be Oscar-worthy."
Oki's glare slid sideways, sharp as a blade. If you keep distracting me, I'll make sure your next 'dramatic pause' happens in the unemployment line."
"Alright, alright," he said, hands up, grinning wide." Just trying to keep things lively."
Oki exhaled, long and suffering. "So…" he piped up, chin in hand, voice lazy. "Did you write a script for that, or are you just naturally this intense?"
"Unlike you, I take this seriously," she shot back, pen tapping once—hard.
Rafta's smirk grew, eyes glinting. "Oh, I know. It's one of your… charming quirks."
She stiffened, just a hair, then recovered fast. "Charming?" she echoed, brow lifting, skeptical.
"Yeah," he said, leaning back with a lazy grin. "Like a hurricane's got charm—wild, fierce, kinda hot."
Oki's stare went deadpan, a beat of silence stretching. "You do have a death wish," she said, voice flat, but her lips twitched—just barely.
The café was buzzing with the usual midday rush—chatter, the clinking of cutlery, and the faint hum of background music.
At their usual corner seat, Rafta leaned back in his chair, biting into his sandwich without a care in the world, while Oki, ever the perfectionist, skimmed through her notes, barely touching her meal.
Rafta watched her for a moment before shaking his head. "You know, you're allowed to enjoy food without analyzing corporate data at the same time, right?"
Oki didn't even look up. "I'm multitasking. And what are you even doing here? Get lost."
Rafta scoffed, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Excuse me? I'm here to eat lunch. Same as you."
"Then eat it quietly. Ever heard of table manners? You don't talk while eating."
"Oh, and what about the manners that say you shouldn't be doing anything else while eating?" Rafta countered, pointing at her open file.
Oki finally looked up, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
Rafta smirked, leaning slightly forward. "Fight? No, no. Just reminding you of some basic etiquette."
Oki huffed in irritation and grabbed her lunch. "I'm going somewhere else. Don't follow me."
Rafta lazily gestured around the café. "Good luck with that. The whole place is packed."
She paused, scanning the room. Every table was occupied, leaving her with no choice but to sit back down. With a sigh of defeat, she placed her tray back on the table, her expression visibly annoyed.
The moment she sat, Rafta swiftly snatched the page she had been reading.
"Hey—give it back." Oki immediately leaned over the table, stretching her arm out to grab it.
Rafta grinned and held it high above his head. "What's the magic word?"
Oki stretched further, her face inches from his. "Give. It. Back." Her voice was sharp and dangerously low, her cold glare drilling into him.