Chapter Text
Kurosawa walked into the reception area of the stationery company; this was his third and final interview of the day. He wasn’t really excited about selling paper and pens, but he wasn’t going to work for his father, and at this point, anything would do as a place to start.
There were four other people in the room and he smiled reflexively at all of them. Two of the men nodded briskly in return, the woman smiled back but her eyes remained vague, and the third man just ducked his head.
For some reason, Kurosawa took a seat next to the awkward man, crossing his legs neatly and tugging on his waistcoat to make sure he remained unwrinkled.
"Hello," he said, smiling. The man squinted at him, but Kurosawa kept going. "Are you here for one of the sales positions?"
"Oh, uh." The man's eyes darted from Kurosawa, to his own shoes, to the window, and then back to Kurosawa's pocket square. "No. Data analysis."
At that, the woman turned and smiled at him. "Oh, me, too," she said. She leaned forward into a small bow. "Fujisaki Nozomi, nice to meet you."
Kurosawa bowed back. "Kurosawa Yuichi."
They both turned to the other man, who flinched, then said, nearly too quietly to be heard, "Um. Adachi Kiyoshi?"
Cute. Kurosawa paused, wondering where that had come from. He supposed the man, Adachi, was okay looking, but who could really tell, under that too-long hair and the baggy suit. Then a small smile flickered over his face as he chatted to the woman (Fujisato? Fukusaki?), and Kurosawa felt something behind his stomach clench.
A representative from the company came into the room and called for Adachi and one of the other men, and Kurosawa watched as Adachi scurried off behind them.
The woman smiled at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling. "I'm looking forward to working here, if I get the job. So far, everyone I've met has been very kind."
He nodded, but his eyes drifted back toward the door Adachi had gone through. "I think I'm more interested in the company than I thought."
They chatted quietly for the next half hour, until the stranger strode out of the door and marched out of the office. Adachi came out a couple moments after, blinking as if the reception area was too bright. He glanced over at Kurosawa and Fujisaki, gave them a tiny thumbs-up, then skittered out of the room toward the elevators.
Kurosawa found himself smiling broadly after him. I can't wait to get to know him better.
The interview itself was almost disgustingly easy. Clearly, they weren't expecting someone to have done more than a passing amount of research into their products or customers, research which Kurosawa thought was the barest minimum. He hadn't even prepared sales plans for more than two product lines, the way he had for the computer and furniture companies he'd interviewed at earlier that day.
He left knowing that he'd get the job, and that he'd probably get a higher initial offer than the one in the advertisement. He couldn't wait to get started training.
The training was, in fact, rather dull. The best part was that all the incoming employees were being trained together, so he got to sit next to Adachi every day for a week. He spent the first two days paying close attention to how Adachi took notes and what he ate, then on the third day, brought in a better notebook, a nicer pen, and a second bento lunch.
"Oh," Adachi said, blinking at the gifts, spread out in front of him like offerings. "I have a pen?"
"Yes," Kurosawa said, sinking down next to him. "I noticed that it leaks slightly, so I thought you'd prefer something else." He smiled, trying to seem friendly and not as obsessed as he was afraid he was becoming. He saw Fujisaki's glance shift from them to her own notepad and her lips quirk up. "And the notebook made me think of you." He'd resisted the one with rabbits cavorting in the corners, but hadn't been able to stop himself from buying the one with little suns.
Adachi tilted his head toward him, his eyes making it all the way to Kurosawa's ear. "I have lunch, too."
Kurosawa folded his hands together. "I'm hoping you'll help me, actually. I cook for myself and often struggle because recipes are scaled for more than one person. No matter what, I end up wasting food." He gestured toward the bento. "If I use the dinner leftovers to make two lunches, then I don't have to throw anything out. I'm sure you have the same problem."
Adachi's eyes met his, disbelief and unexpected humor in them. "If you're sure," he said. "But I don't. Have that problem. I, ah." He ruffled the back of his hair, leaving it even more disheveled. "I buy all my meals at the convenience stores, or a truck on the way to work."
"Then this will be healthier for you, as well!" Kurosawa beamed.
Adachi's eyes fell again, blinking like something was too bright. "If it'll help, then thank you very much."
"No, truly," Kurosawa said, "thank you."
Kurosawa ignored the way Fujisaki snorted to herself across the table.
On the Friday two weeks after their cohort had moved to their actual departments, Kurosawa followed Adachi to the lunch room, setting down the bentos he'd put together that morning and smiling as Adachi went to stand in the line to get their cups of tea. Adachi had insisted on contributing something, so Kurosawa allowed him to get drinks at lunch and afternoon snacks.
When Adachi sat down, Kurosawa took a breath, then leaned forward. He hasn't said no, yet. "It's been two weeks. I was thinking – would you like to go to dinner to celebrate?"
Adachi flicked a glance up at him, then paused, his dark eyes staying on Kurosawa's. "Celebrate?" He blinked, his eyes falling to the knot of Kurosawa's tie. "I… yeah, that might be nice."
Kurosawa clenched his fists under the table, barely able to keep his expression calm. "There's a restaurant I've been thinking about trying, a couple train stops away."
Adachi smiled at the polar bear Kurosawa had made his rice into that morning. "That sounds, uh. Great." Once more, he looked directly into Kurosawa's eyes for a moment, before letting them fall away. "I'm looking forward to it."
Six years later, they walked out of the elevator together, slightly late because Kurosawa hadn't agreed with the tie Adachi had chosen that morning and they'd had a long discussion about whether brown ties went with blue suits. As they separated to go to their respective departments, Adachi trailed his fingers along Kurosawa's wrist. "See you at lunch," he said. "Enjoy your new student."
Kurosawa narrowed his eyes at Adachi, who just chuckled, then winced as the new salesman, Rokkaku, called loudly across the office, "Oh! Senpais! I'm so glad you're both here, I have coffee for you!"
Adachi snorted. "He's all yours." He sat down at his desk, dropping his backpack in the footwell and opening his laptop, settling in for a long morning.
Kurosawa watched him for a moment, so happy he'd decided to come to that third, boring, interview so long ago. Then he pulled in a deep breath and went to go explain sales reports to the new guy. Again.