𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐒! ➛ a. keiji ✔

𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝟬𝟮 ── 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵

listen to the song above for a soundtrack!

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law firms were the worst for [y/n]. they could have been anywhere but there, anywhere but in that cramped, 4 square meter-ed desk job. in fact, nothing was worse than being stuck revising spreadsheets and picking up other people's calls and redirecting them to their boss in the writer's opinion. it's what you settled for, so suck it. nonetheless, [y/n] was unhappy. in that "nine to five" job, they would spend at least a third of their time doing absolutely nothing. the firm was big, but the boss was such a control freak, [y/n] was beginning to think he'd gotten a secretary just for show — or coffee. that man surely did love coffee.

even though [y/n] clearly hated the job they had, they had to admit the decorations at least were nice. nearing the christmas season and thus the end of the year, the boss has chosen to place some holiday decorations along the hallways, those which didn't strike much surprise in [y/n]'s coworkers: "he always does that," one of them laughed. season's shenanigans aside, the firm had the typical layout: interns and other lawyers stayed all together, desks as close as they could possibly get; secretaries sat beside each other, chatting and gossiping about the most varied subjects ([y/n] had tons of information on the people that lived nearby to use as blackmail); and [y/n], as the boss' personal secretary, sat away from all of them. that made them feel pretentious, as if they were standing on a geographic pedestal away from the plebe. the writer held back a laugh at how ridiculous that assumption was.

trying to ease their brain out of stressful inner quarrels, the desk began to creak as [y/n] leaned their body backward on their chair, pushing themself with their arms straight and hands holding on to the edge of the table — just on the brink between falling from it and not doing so. however, they worried their big-lawyer boss was going to waltz into the room and see his secretary was falling face flat on the floor. quickly regaining their composure, the writer hurriedly opened a masking tab of excel spreadsheets they couldn't bear the sight of. as their mind wandered in between numbers and sums of money, they thought about keiji and the letter they'd sent him.

[y/n] didn't expect much from akaashi. they had sent him what he'd asked for, but certainly didn't think he would use the lyrics or even reply to them on the forum. regarding this situation, they tried to be as laid-back as they possibly could — without falling from the chair, of course. still, curiosity killed the cat and it was about to kill the writer as well. they opened the forum and closed the excel tab: one reply. turning on all notifications for the musician's replies and whatnot, [y/n] read the message.

from: @akaashikeiji

thank you so much! the lyrics are amazing.

sent from tokyo, japan

the secretary couldn't hold back the blush that creeped on their face. hearing an opening of the main office door, — one catches on to those noises when one hears it a couple times — their head shot back and their eyes took a quick glance at the figure that stepped outside the room. as the grey-suited lawyer made his way out of his office and asked for coffee, [y/n] hid their open tab behind one of the numbers with the replies from keiji.

"good evening, mr. sato. how can i help you?" they said, trying to turn their red face back to normal, hoping their boss wouldn't notice. the man clearly did, and looked from side to side, searching for the faintest clue as to why his personal secretary had been blushing as soon as he entered the room. [y/n] noticed the change in his eyes, as if an idea had been forming in his mind, yet he shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. further, the secretary wondered if he was going to ask for his fifth cup of coffee of the day.

"can i have a coffee?" there it was. predictable, thus [y/n] was disappointed yet not surprised. still, it was an odd request for that time of day in [y/n]'s opinion. time of night, to be precise, they scoffed in their head. almost midnight, and the boss was still working. must be tough to be rich.

"sure! i'll grab it straight away." with a dismissive smile, [y/n] left their desk and went to get their boss' ever-so-desired coffee. nevertheless, what they didn't see, hiding behind a browser window of endless numbers, was keiji had just sent another message, one that had the potential to make [y/n] blush as hard as ever.

from: @akaashikeiji

you're really talented :)

sent from tokyo, japan

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a/n: i have come to the conclusion that i absolutely suck at planning chapters. like, seriously, this bit was supposed to go on the last chapter i posted (the first one), but then the first one was too big and i had to put it here, but then this one was too small. ugh!!!!!!!!!!! i need to get better at this. anyways, how are y'all? 

this was just a chapter to talk about [y/n]'s job and how they hate it, which reflects a lot on my crazy shitsunami of schoolwork that i have to do. i really do be stressed, huh? well, i hope you guys liked this chapter (i know it was really really short, but i promise the next one's going to be better!). if you did, please consider giving it a vote and sharing it around :) as always, thank you for reading!

signing off, 

— 𝖒.