Chapter Text
Karma is in the middle of his lunch break, idly contemplating dropping by Gakushuu’s office to annoy him a little, when the unthinkable happens. No, scratch that. Karma is in the middle of his lunch break when the what-the-fuck-I’m-an-actual-idiot-I-should-have-absolutely-seen-this-coming happens. Karma has got a bite of the caprese salad Gakushuu had lovingly made and packaged up for him this morning halfway to his mouth, when he’s abruptly and unceremoniously pulled from his seat.
“My salad,” he whines.
“No time for that,” Rio says, pulling him along. “This can’t wait.”
And then, somehow, in an amount of time where he doesn’t recall blinking, Karma is sitting next to Gakushuu in a tiny supply closet, Rio standing in front of them with a disturbingly long wooden stick-thing in her hand.
“How did you squeeze a projector and a laptop in here?” Karma asks. “And is that a life-size cardboard cut-out of Gakushuu?”
“It’s for reenactment purposes,” Rio says.
“Reenactment of what?” Gakushuu pipes up, sounding mildly terrified, which—yeah, Karma doesn’t blame him. That had been his only state of being around Rio for the entirety of the first year he’d known her. And Gakushuu hasn’t even seen first-hand what she can do with a knife.
Karma shudders.
“Certain incriminating moments in your working relationship,” she says, slapping the stick ominously against her palm. “But, to begin with, we will present the recorded evidence.” And with that, she’s adjusting the projector, and on the board behind her 10 Reasons Why You Absolute Idiots Should Date, flickers to life.
“Not again,” Karma groans. Gakushuu kicks him.
“You remember that I’m your boss, right?” he asks beside Karma.
“First,” Rio says, ignoring them both, “I believe the footage speaks for itself.”
She presses play, and the blood drains from Karma’s face.
“Rio,” more than a little drunk video-Karma whines. “Why is he so pretty? Like, he looks hot when he’s complaining about the way I format my reports. No one should look hot complaining about formatting.” A pause, a hiccup, and then, “It’s so unfair. I want him to—”
“Rio,” Karma cuts off, frantically, because even his muddy memory is enough to know the next part wasn’t exactly PG-13. “We already—,”
“Shut up,” Gakushuu hisses, staring in rapt fascination at the board.
“—and put it in—“
“This is really unnecessary.”
“—I mean, have you seen his hands—”
“Rio, please.”
“—and I bet it’s big—”
“I’m begging you—”
“—sore the next morning—”
“I will literally do anything you want for the rest of your life.”
Finally, Rio pauses the video. Karma is tempted to start believing in God.
“The second bit of evidence,” she says, “courtesy of one Sakakibara Ren.”
“No,” Gakushuu says, “please, no.”
“Do go on,” Karma says, gleeful.
An image appears. The handwriting is messy, and there are red-tinged spots on the paper.
“Apparently,” Rio says, “our CEO gets a little poetic after a few glasses of wine.” She clears her throat, and begins to read. “Oh, his eyes, like bottomless pools of liquid amber, his terrible formatting, forever unappealing and yet—somehow—endearing, his coffee preferences, utterly unpalatable but never somber, his—,”
“I will triple your salary,” Gakushuu cuts off, desperation palpable.
Rio smiles. “Exhibit C,” she says, switching to the next slide. It’s a picture of Gakushuu staring lovingly at Karma while he plays with Princess. “As you can see, his eyes aren’t focused on the cat herself, but rather—”
“You realize you’re not actually addressing a jury, right?” Gakushuu asks.
Rio glares at him.
He shrinks in his seat. Karma grabs his hand. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Unless you break the pot with her favorite succulent in it, she doesn’t bite.”
Rio’s eyes narrow. “What is this?” she asks. “Willing physical contact without a threadbare excuse established beforehand? Not only that, but it’s of an explicitly comforting kind? You two are hiding something.”
Karma winces. “Look,” he says. “I was going to tell you, I just forgot.”
“Yes,” Gakushuu adds, “I’m sure Karma didn’t mean to disregard your prior contribution and investment in his romantic life so openly, especially with all your years of friendship taken into account—”
“You’re not helping,” Karma says through gritted teeth.
Rio seems to catch on. “Wait,” she says, “are you two together? Like together-together?”
“Uh, yeah?” Karma says.
“Unfortunately,” Gakushuu says, solemn.
“You love me, you jerk,” Karma says.
Gakushuu turns very red very rapidly. “You could make an argument towards that—”
“My ninth slide is literally just you saying you love him,” Rio cuts in.
Gakushuu chokes on his words.
“But I guess you’ll never get to see it, since you don’t need my help—”
“Wait, I want to see—”
“—so I suppose I’ll be going now—”
“Rio, I want to see—”
“—and giving you two some privacy. You and Karma can reenact all those things he listed instead." Rio turns to leave, one hand already around the handle of the door, but then she turns back around to add, “Oh, and I do expect a raise.”
A wink later, she’s gone.
For (embarrassingly longer than) a second, they both just gape at the closed door.
“So,” Karma begins.
“I hate you,” is all Gakushuu says, not looking him in the eye.
…
In the end, based on what the contents of that supply closet witness, Karma supposes it’s safe to say he really, absolutely does not.