LAST THING I NEED by katocchi
synopsis: AU. Hana said not to bother her unless it's an emergency. Does her daughter crying in her office count?
"Ichijou!"
He looks up, fingers freezing mid-word because a second spent finishing his sentence is a second spent not paying attention. "Yes, ma'am?"
Through the open door, he sees his boss at her desk, flanked by stacks of documents taller than her, and the sight would be funny if it wasn't a testament to her absurd work ethic. She pushes out of her seat and throws an overcoat around her shoulders.
"I'm heading to the Bunker. Make sure you get to compiling the data for my meeting." Her finger trails down one pile until it reaches a red binder by the middle, and he bites back a groan. "And don't bother me unless it's an absolute emergency. Last thing I need is another headache, is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She raises an eyebrow. "Back to the muttering, huh. I said, is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Excellent," she says and heads off towards the secret hallway.
Raku finishes typing his email―both an apology and an attempt to schedule a second meeting―to their newest client. Clearly, Mr. Carter wasn't told about Boss's flair for theatrics. It was probably the man's first time seeing someone jump off a moving helicopter and roll onto a conference table, and his poor assistant's jaw dropped when she understood why Raku requested wide-open windows before their arrival. Raku himself chose to enter through the doors like a normal person and hoped his boss would do the same one day.
Raku sighs and moves to her desk, closing the door behind him.
Of all the thoughts that bombard him during the work day, the most common one is: how the hell is his father friends with this woman?
When Issei asked if he wanted to work for an acquaintance for a few months to gain administrative experience, Raku was too caught up in the excitement of spending his summer in New York to ask too many questions, and he's paying dearly for his temporary lapse in judgement. While he has to admit it's forcing him to develop skills, he's not sure if he'll survive until September.
Hana Kirisaki is a goddamn machine: always snapping at someone over the phone, reading over a new case, catching a flight, prowling the halls to sniff out inefficiency (which, he learned one day, smells a lot like someone pissing their pants in fear). If he didn't catch her napping behind her sunglasses during one quiet car ride, he'd believe that she never sleeps. That was the first time he realized that she's human like him, and the thought sent a chill down his pine. She's capable of all this while living the same 24 hours as everyone else and with, one would assume, the same human limitations? Does this make her a god on Earth?
Raku moves the stack of completed paperwork onto the floor with a reminder to check it over later. Not that he needs to―Hana has a rule about work passing through multiple people, but she never makes mistakes. The day he finds a typo will be the day he eats his left shoe. Settling into Hana's seat, Raku opens the first binder titled FY 20XX Financial Reports - C Company and gets to reading.
Sometimes the corporate jargon takes him longer to decipher than conversational English, but he writes notes on the side. Japanese translations of uncommon words, summaries of each section's points, things for Hana to look into as she plans the client's next move.
Being a financial consultant, she told him on more than one occasion, is harder than it looks. When she started up her consulting firm, her biggest concern was finding clients. Consultants have much shorter projects than advisors, so, new to the scene, she needed two things. One, someone to take a chance on her, and two, success from the start. She got both.
Her brutal efficiency propelled her to the top of her field, so a recommendation letter from the one and only Hana Kirisaki will be vital for his growing resume. Or so he tells himself every night as he falls into bed, wondering if all this suffering is worth it. Like he said, he doesn't know if he'll make it to the end.
He finished three binders. When you work with Hana, you learn to work faster without sacrificing quality, even if your brain is screaming for you to stop. He's preparing a new page for the fourth binder when Hana's door bursts open.
"Who the hell are you?" the intruder demands.
Raku's brow furrows. It's a blonde girl he doesn't recognize. Average height, unfamiliar voice. He takes in her wedge heels, black skirt, ruffled blouse. It isn't until he gets to her flushed face that he realizes that he's checking her out like a creep. She's really, really pretty, though.
Then he's struck by her vulgar words.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" His customer service voice is strained, even to his ears.
Her scowl doesn't move. "I asked you first."
"I'm Raku Ichijou, Ms. Kirisaki's assistant. She's currently out of the office. If you'd like to arrange a meeting with her, I'd be happy to get your details and―"
The girl crosses her arms and appraises him. She doesn't look impressed. "You're her assistant? You don't look like much."
"God," he mutters in Japanese. He's going to pop a blood vessel. "Nice face, ugly personality."
Her glare intensifies, if that's even possible. "I hope you're talking about yourself," she snaps in clear Japanese. Well, this is embarrassing. "If you're her assistant, you must have her schedule. I should be on it somewhere around this time."
"You never told me who you were, but I'd be happy to check." More for show than anything. He knows she's on it; he just referenced the schedule for his notes , and Hana has no meetings right now. "Can I have your name?"
"Chitoge Wagner."
She steps forward, holding up a lanyard ID, and he startles at the shiny VVIP sticker in the corner. Wagner isn't familiar, but VVIP? Is she the daughter of a big client? Did he screw up one of their contracts by losing his temper? He sneaks another glance at her outfit. It definitely looks expensive.
Her finger covers another last name on the side, but he types in Chitoge Wagner, and as he expected, nothing appears.
"No search results." He waves her around the desk when her face drops into disbelief. He points to the day's schedule. Almost all the slots are filled without any mention of her name. The current block is a stretch of time entitled 'Office Rounds.'
"No fuckin' way," she breathes. She grabs the mouse, scrolling up and down the page, even refreshing. Nothing changes. Raku wonders if he can get security in here. "You're kidding me. Maybe she put it under just Chitoge. What kind of...this is definitely her schedule, right? You're not mistaking it for anyone else's? You're absolutely sure?"
"Yes, this is Hana Kirisaki's schedule," he snaps. "Ms. Wagner, I don't appreciate your accusations of me not doing my job properly, nor your handling of private property. If you don't step away from this desk, I'll have to call the front desk and have you escorted."
She has the audacity to shove her finger into his chest. "You don't get to talk to me that way. Go ahead, call security! See who gets into trouble."
He wants to tear that VVIP sticker off her ID. Then he can treat her like a normal misbehaving customer.
"You're sure this is Hana Kirisaki's schedule?"
"I'm sure," he grits out. "I don't know what your meeting with Ms. Kirisaki is about, but if it's urgent, I can find someone to assist you."
She snorts. "Urgent? Guess it's not urgent enough to be written down. I just―fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She buries her face in her palms and screams.
Raku stiffens. With the door closed, no one can hear Chitoge's downward spiral into Crazy Town. Is that a blessing or a curse? Can he ring security before she snaps and lunges at him? He inches closer to the phone.
"Ms. Wagner, if you need a moment to yourself―are you crying?"
Oh God, wait, hold on, why is she crying? Would it be safe to get her tissues, or should he make a run for it? Where are Hana's tissues? I got her a new box yesterday, he thinks. Raku yanks open the bottom drawer and finds the hidden Kleenex. He hands Chitoge a few, and her fingers clench around them immediately, but her gaze is still locked on the distance.
"Okay, maybe I can, um." He stands awkwardly, gets another tissue, and dabs at her cheeks―a move that is entirely too intimate now that he thinks about it. She leans into it and quietly lets him clear her tears. "Do you want me to get you a seat? Or you can take this one for a bit?"
She takes one look at Hana's chair, and another sob shudders through her. It's disturbing how fast the tears are falling without a sound.
"Or not. Um, Ms. Wagner, do you want me to escort you out? Find you someone else to talk to? We have a very competent team; they can help with all your needs."
"They can't." She turns her eyes―her glittering, ocean-deep, sky-vast eyes―on him, and for the second time, he's struck by how beautiful she is, even while breaking down. "I can't believe it. What kind of mom forgets her daughter's goddamn birthday?"
What the.
He looks at her name tag again, this time without her fingers covering the last part, and there it is. Kirisaki. Chitoge Wagner Kirisaki. What the hell. This is his boss's daughter? If he squints, maybe he can see the resemblance in the face shape, the aura, the brashness. They carry themselves in similar ways.
This changes things.
"Do you want me to get her?" Hana said not to bother her unless it's an emergency. Does her daughter crying in her office count?
"Yes. No. I don't―I don't know. Fuck," she says again into her hands. "I need―a second."
Raku had a hard time waking up this morning. You can't get excited for work when you're expecting a long day of answering emails. Maybe he'd have more time for other things if Hana stopped making trouble at every consultation. His current correspondence is to Mrs. Fischer's assistant, trying to convince them that Hana didn't have a bad habit of smashing tables (she did) and that her jumping into meetings won't happen again (it will). He's on the fourth round of emails, and Hana won't let him drop them as clients.
"It'd be easier, sure," she said, "but where's the fun in that?"
Easy for her to say when she's not reading Mrs. Fischer's scathing comments.
So he came into the office ready for a long day of sitting at his desk. He didn't expect to be crouching before someone he just met, patting her shoulder as she decides whether she wants to be comforted. Chitoge's face scrunches, and Raku has a strong feeling that she'll swing if he says anything now.
Hana told him not to get her unless it's an emergency. Surely, this counted as an emergency? Unless she knew Chitoge was coming and went to the bunker to hide, which seemed uncharacteristic but today was full of surprises. Raku doesn't have the slightest idea of what to do. He doesn't know how Hana feels about her daughter, especially since this is the first time he's heard that she's married at all. A significant other of some sort has been mentioned offhandedly, yes, and she wears a wedding band, but he figured it was symbolic for being married to the job. Who is the person fell in love with, married, and had a child with her? Hana is beautiful and charming, but she barely has the patience for a non-business related lunch, let alone a whole date.
Balls of steel, this Wagner. They have the power to bring gods to their knees.
"You probably think I'm pathetic." Chitoge laughs. It's a low, bitter chuckle that rocks him straight out of his thoughts. "I make the trip from Japan to New York to find out that my own mother doesn't want to see me. A few days out of the entire year, that's all I ask for, and I can't even get that."
Her tears have dried. Raku sits on the floor and leans back on his freed hands. "I don't think you're pathetic. I get it."
She scoffs. He shrugs.
"I don't see my mom often either. I don't know where she is now, actually, only that she's travelling and writing books. It's always one world tour after another with her. I don't think she's been home since I entered high school, so―" he tilts his head "―five years now? She rarely contacts us. I bet Hana's pretty bad at keeping in touch, too."
"That's an understatement. I can count her messages to me this year on one hand. She's been busy since I was a baby, though, so I'm used to it. Was raised by my old man and my...extended family." She stumbles over the last word, but he thinks to his own situation and has trouble thinking of a word, too.
He nods. "Same here. We all live in a big...estate. Lots of noise. I didn't have the opportunity to feel lonely, but it hit me sometimes when I see other kids and their parents."
"Definitely."
They sit in silence. Chitoge fiddles with the hem of her skirt, occasionally wiping at her eyes, and Raku curls his toes inside his dress shoes. The emotional whiplash, from lashing out at each other to somewhat bonding over absent parents, is making his head hurt, and while emails are the last thing on his mind now, how long until this silence gets uncomfortable?
Chitoge sighs. A thoughtful look crosses her face. "Well, I'm in New York for the first time in a while. I might as well go shopping, catch up with some friends." She sticks out her hand, face turned away from him. "About earlier. Let's forget it about it. Thanks."
Her handshake is firm like Hana's. As she's about to pull away, he tightens his grip. Her eyes widen and snap to his face, surprised.
"Come with me for a second," he says. He gets to his feet, brushing off the and wseat of his pants. He walks to the bookcase and waves her over. "Stand next to me."
The air shifts; she's back on the defensive, crossing her arms and scowling. "Why?" She scans the bookcase. "What're you gonna do?"
"Taking you to Hana." He scratches the back of his neck. "Thought that if it was me, I'd still want to see my mom, even if I'm mad at her."
"If I got mad at my mom, she'd probably murder me," she says but steps forward.
"Glad to know I'm not the only one scared of her. Ready?"
"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be okay." She glances over her shoulder. Weird, but whatever.
Raku pulls at the astrophysics book, one that Hana would never read, and a click sounds from inside the wall. The floor beneath them starts moving, and Chitoge yelps, grabbing onto his arm. Once she steadies herself, she flushes and drops his elbow, flattening her palms against her skirt instead. The wall spins them into a windowless hallway with doors on either side. They were the only ones in Hana's office, but a movement, almost like a shadow darting through the opening overhead, makes him look up.
Hard to see anything, though. The vaulted ceiling is easily two stories of space, and Raku never knew why Hana wanted the haunted mansion feel when the rest of the building was the opposite.
He opens the first door on the right, and Chitoge peers around him. "A kitchen?" Fully furnished with a seating area.
"Sometimes she needs a full meal, so the break room microwave isn't enough."
"But Mom doesn't cook."
"Yeah, it's usually me."
A door on the left.
"A bed? A full bathroom?"
"In case she needs to sleep and can't go home."
"She sleeps?"
"I know, it's a surprise to me, too."
He skips the door on the right. She tilts her head, curious. "That's my room."
Another door on the left.
"...what are those?"
"I ask myself that all the time."
The last room. For some reason, standing before the door makes him nervous; he slides his hands down the front of his shirt. There's no reason to be nervous. Hana's in there for sure. Something about the energy of this room, though...
"I've actually never been in here," he admits. "It always gave me bad vibes."
"Well, we're already here," Chitoge says with a half-shrug and reaches for the handle.
The door opens. Raku stifles a scream and swallows the heart trying to escape from his throat. Jesus―who had the time for this? The walls are covered in photos, carefully arranged in a way that satisfies at the visual level and terrifies at the emotional level. The floor to ceiling array features a blonde girl in various stages of life, and once his gaze falls on the wall closest to him, Chitoge's face smiles back. A poster with last month's date in the corner, a stark contrast to Chitoge's current grimace.
"This has to be Claude's work," she mutters, holding a fist to her mouth. "Who else would have all these?"
Though the crowded walls catch his attention first, it doesn't take long to notice the table in the center of the room, especially with the absurd amount of craft supplies on its surface, and Hana looms over it, holding glitter glue like a weapon. Jacket off, sleeves rolled up, hair wisping at her neck, already gnawing through her third pack of candy cigarettes―it's the most disheveled he's ever seen her.
He looks at Chitoge and raises his eyebrows. She nods firmly.
"Mom!"
Hana jolts. It's the first time Raku's seen the woman rattled. He steps aside, then follows as Chitoge approaches her mom.
"Chitoge? Why are you...how are you here?" Hana's eyes slide to Raku. "Ichijou. I see."
"You said emergencies only," he says, willing his voice to not betray how much he wants to hightail it out of there. "This seemed like one."
Chitoge gets closer, going on her tippy toes to look over Hana's body block. "What're you working on, Mom?"
"Nothing important." Hana shoves the project backwards with one hand. The other hand, scarred with marker, rests on Chitoge's cheek. "What brings you here? I thought you weren't coming until the 7th. I had Ichijou write it down."
Two pairs of eyes blink.
"Mom, today is the 7th―"
"Wait, you never told me to write anything down―"
"Wait, it's already June 7th? I thought I had a few days until...Ichijou, what do you mean? I told you to block out my Wednesday to Friday afternoons for shopping and sightseeing, June 7th to the 9th." Hana levels him with a cold stare. "Don't tell me you forgot?"
"Ma'am, not to sound like I'm making excuses, but you never take breaks. I thought you were joking." Shopping? Sightseeing? Anything she considers a waste of time? Unprecedented.
"What do you think is more plausible: me joking or me taking a break?"
Both seemed pretty impossible before today, but he keeps his mouth shut. A few feet away, Chitoge shifts from one foot to the other, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt again. At this point, he's impressed it doesn't have permanent wrinkle damage, but that observation stutters when her chin drops against her chest.
"So you didn't forget my birthday?" she asks, voice catching on the last word. "You didn't forget about me?"
"Oh Chitoge," Hana whispers. She ruffles Chitoge's hair. "I know I'm not there all the time, but you're still my daughter. I'd never forget about you."
Chitoge gives a watery laugh. "That's a lie. What about that time you left me at a client's office?"
"For five minutes, please stop bringing it up." Hana pauses, then laughs with Chitoge. She ruffles her hair again before turning to him. "How's my schedule for the rest of the day?"
"Preparation for tomorrow's lunchtime meeting. Angelo, the one with the chain bakery."
"Perfect. The files on my desk, Ichijou? They're yours now. Make sure they're read for me to read through tomorrow. You can tell someone downstairs to bring my car around."
He barely catches her car keys. Are you kidding? Preparing for tomorrow by himself means working at double, maybe triple speed. His eyes are already burning in anticipation of burning the midnight oil, and a retort about his own life is on the tip of his tongue, but as Hana pulls Chitoge into a tight, albeit awkward, hug, he sighs and shakes his head.
If I had a chance to spend time with my mom, I'd take it, he thinks, smiling to himself.
Chitoge buries her face in Hana's shoulder, whimpering words into her ear, crying for the second time today. Clutching the keys hard enough to feel the grooves digging into his palm, Raku moves backwards until the door frame hits his back, and he turns around to leave.
"What the―who are you?" He hisses at the short-haired girl. She appeared out of thin air and isn't even paying attention to him. Arms crossed, she leans against the other side of the frame and watches the scene with a softness that doesn't suit the gun in her hand. "How'd you get here?"
"I followed you. I'm Chitoge Kirisaki's bodyguard," she says without looking at him. She spins on her heel and beckons over one shoulder. "C'mon, let's give them some privacy."
"That's what I was doing," he sputters. "For the record, I'm following you because there's only one way out, not because I want to."
"Uh huh, whatever makes you feel better."
Chitoge and Hana are seated, and Chitoge recounts a story animatedly, arms flying to emphasize her points. Now that Hana isn't blocking the table, he sees her project: a messy birthday card depicting balloons and a long-haired stick figure. Art must be another thing she's bad at. He huffs, amused, before easing the door closed. Maybe he should try harder to get in touch with his mom.
bonus, september
"Raku, wake up!"
As his dad throws open the door with a bang! Raku groans and flips onto his stomach. His futon is so comfortable after an international flight, and all he wants to do is sleep, then unpack. Not have dinner with his dad's special guests.
"It'll only be an hour," Issei insists, knowing full well that Raku knows that it'll last longer if they bring out alcohol. And alcohol will definitely be around if they're as close as Issei says. "Adelt's bringing his daughter, and you're the same age. You can be friends. They moved here while you were gone."
"I told you no, old man." Raku shoves the pillow over his head, wondering how long it'll take for Issei to get bored. "And stop tryna set me up with girls. I'm still getting over Onodera."
"I'm not. This girl just really needs someone to talk to in Japan." He snaps his fingers. "Actually, you know her mom."
"Who's her mom?"
"If you come to dinner, you'll find out."
Raku can't see his dad, but he can hear the smirk. "Fine, I'm getting hungry anyway. It's not 'cuz I'm curious―stop looking at me like that," he complains, pushing to his feet. "The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go back to sleep, right?"
"You don't want to wash up?"
"They probably know I'm jetlagged. I don't need to put in the effort."
He swipes a shirt off his designated clothing chair and tugs it over his head. In the mirror, he sees the back of his bedhead bounce. He runs his fingers through it but leaves it alone otherwise. Maybe they'll let him leave early if he looks ragged enough. On his desk sits a new letter, his name written in a slanted scrawl he's refamiliarizing himself with.
"Mom wrote?"
"Came in while you were knocked out. She's replying faster, but you should maybe look into texting or something."
Raku shuffles it into his stack of other letters. "I'll think about it." And his conclusion is no. The letters are tangible, evidence that his mom sat down, thought about him, took the time to pen out a response.
He's more curious about this mystery girl. The one so interesting his dad can't stop humming in self-satisfaction, arms crossed in his sleeves like he has a silly plan. Issei is the only one happy; the rest of Shuuei-gumi are eating in the main hall, glaring at their food and chewing in silence. It's normally so lively. They don't even notice he's there until Ryuu, sitting at the front of the hall, gives a half-hearted wave. Strange. On the other side of the hall, mirroring his family, suited men poke at the Japanese dishes with the same rigidity.
Issei waves him to the private dining room and, before Raku has time to mentally compose himself, pulls back the door.
What the. Oh. Oh.
The blue eyes that have been haunting him since June trail from his feet to his burning face, and he's struck by two thoughts. First, what a reversal, being on the receiving end of the stare. Second, he really should've washed up before he came. She's primly dressed; in addition to his bedhead, he likely has blanket imprints on his cheek, drool on his chin, dried mucus on his eyes.
And then a third realization that startles him into straightening his spine: she's still really, really pretty.
His dad elbows his side. "Try your best to be her friend, eh?"
a/n.
is this...a new nisekoi fic? haha, i've stepped away from darling for a bit to write some nisekoi AUs. while darling is still my baby (has been since 2014), i wanna do some new ideas.
i think one of the first things you notice is hana's job. she's a financial consultant in this fic instead of a major ceo and owner of several companies. i thought being ceo of a consultant firm, a powerful one though not very large, suited her more. i remembered her as a financial consultant, and then i read the wiki page and was like, "ah. oops." (EDIT: NVM, HER CHARACTER PAGE SAYS, "Hana is a world renowned business consultant who keeps much of the world's finances in balance." SO I'M NOT COMPLETELY WRONG?)
this story started as an innocent what if raku was hana's assistant before they met? and then turned into this. and yes, chitoge's a little soft for their first meeting. in canon, chitoge kneed raku in the face and they immediately got off on the wrong foot, but if they were older, more mature, and got thrown into a vulnerable moment, would something like this happen instead?
i hope you enjoyed this! please leave a review! as always, if you notice something out of place, please let me know!
katocchi
p.s. i recorded an english cover of 'click' by claris BUT it's still waiting to be edited. delayed cuz of my family dealing with covid. check out my youtube channel (aerysian)
p.p.s. i think i need a beta reader LOL