A/N: been rewriting this on AO3, so I figured I'd update it here as well.

Chapter One: Crossword

One look outside rained upon Nagisa's parade - quite literally. He had been looking forward to sauntering outside in the cool autumn sunshine and declaring to the world that he was no longer just an eye-candy assistant but a man worth knowing, a man who was now in charge of an accessories column in Elite, one of the best known fashion magazines throughout the world! And his first day on the job, as a celebration of sorts, he wore his best yellow silk button down, a navy overcoat, and tapered grey plaid trousers, all appropriately accessorized with a colorblocked navy, turquoise, and white scarf. And it dared to rain today, of all days.

"I mean, couldn't it have waited until the weekend? It's only two days till Saturday!" Nagisa bemoaned the weather to Gou, his friend who'd been put in charge of the magazine's blog. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, it's not like the day's almost over already," she replied sarcastically, making a tapping gesture with her pencil toward the clock on Nagisa's laptop. He lay dejectedly upon his keyboard, long since having finished his rough draft. "You're like, done anyways, right?" she continued. "Take it easy, go home early." Nagisa shook his blond hair in exasperation.

"But I can't just abandon my post early on the first day! What would the boss think? What if she found out? I'd never live it down! I'll have to build our relationship from scratch!"

"You know her better than that - if she comes by and sees you gone, I'll just tell her what a great job you did. You busted your arse for this position - she knows that, I know that, the whole magazine does. After all those extra hours you pulled, you deserve an early night." Nagisa again glanced out the rain-blurred window and thought of home, where a long, hot bath, a fireplace, and some pajamas awaited him. A life of warmth.

"On second thought," he said, snatching the coat from his desk chair and slipping it on, "you may be right." Gou nodded.

"Thought so."

And so he found himself hustling through the streets of the city, weaving through a maze of skyscrapers whose glowing fingertips barely brushed the darkening clouds. Nagisa shivered as rain bulleted his coat and water slapped the ankles of his black boots. A wind picked up, splashing between the blocks of buildings. Absently, he wondered why on earth he walked this way to work. A diet wasn't worth this much trouble. He glanced around for a place to hole up and await the worst of the rain to pass and spotted a little coffee shop across the street. Tugging the collar of his coat around him, he jogged towards it and slipped in quietly.

A bell's jingle disturbed the static of the music and for a brief moment, everyone's gazes flickered toward the newcomer before silently returning to what tasks were at hand. Nagisa approached the counter and quietly ordered an espresso, looking around for a place to sit. The pungent air around him clashed - cold, sodden, refreshing storm with the hot grounds of coffee. The rustic wood decor brought to mind an older time where houses were few and far between, tucked behind the trees, and people waited out the rain, alone save a candle.

The blond collected his coffee with a sigh; no use in such sad thoughts. He paid little heed to where he sat and was rather surprised to find himself looking out at the sidewalk, where shades trudged onward to home. He didn't wish to think on them.

"Ah," he breathed quietly - he hadn't finished the crossword puzzle from the morning's paper, he remembered, and quickly shuffled a hand through his bag before his fingertips brushed the rice-grain edge of the soft news. He tugged it out and lay it before himself, snatching a pen from his pocket to complete it. Now where had he left off… a ten letter word, going across. All the spaces were empty. It had him thoroughly stumped, with the only clue given being "a gaggle of interesting characters appear in this 1930's Western classic". Nagisa gave the end of his pen a nibble and took a sip of coffee. Could it have to do with World War II? Was it a book? No one option made perfect sense and so, frustrated, he moved on to whiz through some of the other blank words on the crossword. The last letter of his little problem proved to be 'h'. Out loud, the blond mumbled, "What ten letter word could possibly end with 'h'?" He chewed the edge of his pen for a few seconds more when a whispered answer was carried back to him, accompanied by the scratch of a pen over paper.

"Stagecoach." Nagisa whipped around and saw that he'd been sitting back to back with a different customer.

"What was that?" he eagerly demanded of the man. Rather startled, the stranger turned about face to address the blond. Nagisa was rather bewildered when a rather handsome face framed by dark hair and odd red glasses came to look at him.

"Stagecoach - it was a popular American move released in 1939," he replied, his voice significantly quieter than the blond's - and rightfully so, as this setting was not one in which to shout. Nagisa peeped over his shoulder.

"Is that the crossword you're working on? Mind if I join you?" Without awaiting a reply from the flustered man, he transferred himself to the seat across the gentleman and began copying the answers down. After a moment of initial shock, the other man reciprocated his actions. "You don't have 21 down, do you?" Nagisa asked pleasantly.

"No, not yet," he said thoughtfully, gazing steadily at his paper. The blond took a moment to assess that he was well-dressed, and while his choice in wardrobe was astoundingly plain, the cut of his button-down, coat, and slacks were all impeccable; Nagisa would not have been surprised if they'd been specifically tailored to him. His build seemed tall, though not quite lanky, as opposed to his own short stature. "Relax soldier," the man breathed, "with 't' as the second letter." His brow furrowed in concentration and he used his index finger to shove his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Oh! At ease!" Nagisa contributed, scribbling down the answer in its correct space. His companion glanced at him with slight curiosity, as if to ask him how he knew and the blond responded with, "My father was in the military. We'd have to sit all stiff like to salute him until he said 'at ease' and then we'd all relax." The taller man nodded thoughtfully. He jumped forward to the next. "Chemically quiet," Nagisa mused.

"Inert," the other man offered, filling in the blank space. The 'e' intersected with at ease. "I took a few biochemical engineering classes."

"Watson's companion," Nagisa recited, trying to locate where it was on the puzzle when quite suddenly, his companion blurted,

"Holmes!" The blond glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, and with embarrassment, he admitted, "I loved the Sherlock Holmes books." Nagisa gave a pout and protested,

"It was my turn to guess! You cut!"

"It seems I did," he stated, before finally allowing a smile. "Please, proceed." And so Nagisa did.

With his companion's help, finishing the crossword was a breeze, but quite more enjoyable with someone at his side. While they spoke in mere whispers, it was not long until their voices sounded loud and out of place, regardless of the low hum of the music and pit-pattering of keys. The blond could not quite put his finger on it, but when he cast a glance outside, he'd noticed that the rain and shine had come and gone and the sun had left the city to be bathed in swatches of indigo and dim orange.

"Oh," Nagisa remarked when he noticed the time, "it's late. Sorry," he stood, "but I have to go." He gave his companion a shy smile, which was timidly returned. Nagisa turned and exited the shop, having missed the rosy cheeks he left upon the man's face, and the dark blue eyes that followed him a ways on.

All the way home, the blond's smile did not vanish; what a pleasant evening it had turned out to be! It was difficult to find one so sincere these days, so earnest. He'd truly enjoyed the stranger's company.

The loneliness did not hit him until he shut his door. Vaguely, he recalled that no one would be there to greet him. He slipped to his room and traded his coordinated outfit for pajamas, then lit the fireplace and watched the wood burn. Like paper, the edges of the logs crumbled up and off, forming a grey city of ashes below. How stupid of him to leave without so much as a name. Nagisa had come to a house; he had not yet found home.