Chapter Text
The first thing you learned after becoming an editor was that sleep was optional.
The second thing you learned was that working alongside with Itoshi Sae felt like sharing and breathing oxygen with a hurricane.
Not because he yelled.
Not because he slammed manuscripts on desks or made dramatic speeches about storytelling.
No — Sae was actually quiet.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Across the desk from you, sat with his usual composure, pen balanced between his fingers as he read through the latest chapter submission.
You were pretending to work. But in reality, you were watching his eyebrows slowly knit together and that was never a good sign.
Three seconds later, he placed the manuscript on your desk.
“Page eight.”
You looked down.
“…Page eight what?”
“The pacing collapses.”
You skimmed the page.
“Ah.”
He wasn’t wrong. The protagonist solved a major conflict in two panels. You sighed and scribbled a note in the margins.
“Do you ever deliver criticism gently?” you asked.
Sae leaned back slightly in his chair.
“I delivered it accurately.”
“That wasn’t the question," you bit back.
“You’re the one who asked for my opinion.”
“I asked for a second pair of eyes.”
“And you got one.”
Your mouth opened. Then closed. Because arguing with Sae was like arguing with a calculator.
He's technically correct.
From the desk beside yours, your coworker leaned over the divider.
“Did Sae just murder another manuscript?”
“Not murder,” Sae said calmly.
“It's called correction,” he added.
Your coworker shrugged, “Same thing.”
You tried not to laugh.
Sae returned to his paperwork like the conversation had never happened.
Which was exactly why you liked him, unfortunately.
Because working with Sae meant spending most days within a three-meter radius of him.
Meetings together. Author calls together. Last-minute revisions together.
Which meant you noticed things about him that most people didn’t.
Like how he always arrived before everyone else. How he liked his coffee black in the morning. How he silently moved finished manuscripts into the correct folders when interns mixed them up. How he barely says a word unless he had something useful to say.
You were still thinking about that when he suddenly spoke.
“You’re staring.”
Your soul briefly exited your body.
“I-I am not?", you instantly shooked your head.
“You are.”
“I was thinking.”
Sae didn’t even look up.
“Well, think somewhere else.”
You muttered a cuss under your breath and slapped your cheeks to go back into focus at work.
One evening, everyone in the office looked like they’d fought a small war which meant the editor-in-chief decided the solution was alcohol.
“Good work today!” he announced. “We’re celebrating the new serialization tonight!”
Someone cheered weakly.
Your coworker grabbed your sleeve.
“We’re going.”
“I’m going home," you weakly said as you had no energy left.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You need some actual social life."
“I need sleep.”
"Well, true but still!"
She pointed dramatically across the room.
“You also need to stop being tragically in love with that man.”
You choked.
“Since when was I inlove?"
“If you're not, then prove it," she smirks and taps your shoulder lightly.
“I don’t need to prove anything!”
Unfortunately, Sae chose that exact moment to walk past your desk.
And just like that, your brain immediately stopped working.
Your coworker leaned closer.
“…Case closed.”
The restaurant was packed with editors by the time everyone arrived.
Someone started telling embarrassing stories about their first publishing job.
Your team squeezed around a long table.
And somehow, you ended up sitting two seats away from Sae which was a terrible idea.
Because he looked unfairly good outside the office.
Sleeves rolled up. Maroon hair slightly messy. A glass of booze in his hand.
Your coworker nudged you.
“Stop staring.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You absolutely are. In fact, you actually almost look like you're drooling.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands.
Three drinks later, your ability to filter thoughts had completely dissolved.
Your coworker leaned towards you.
“So...”
You squinted at her.
“So?”
“When are you confessing?”
You nearly dropped your drink.
“Confess what?”
“That you’re hopelessly gone for Itoshi Sae.”
“I am not hopelessly gone," you deny.
“Okay, so why do you look like a Victorian widow every time he ignores you, then?”
You gasped and blushed out of embarrassment.
“Are you really my friend or what? Because that is slander.”
“You literally sigh when he walks away.”
“That was just one time.”
“It was today.”
You groaned and leaned back in your seat.
“I just-”
You stopped and sighed deeply.
Your brain, unfortunately, decided this was the perfect moment to speak honestly.
“I just wish there were two of him.”
Your coworker blinked.
“What do you mean 'two?'”
You gestured vaguely toward Sae.
“One that looks like him...”
You sighed dramatically.
“But actually notices me and you know, a little nicer.”
Your coworker burst out laughing.
“You want a nicer version of Sae?”
“Hell yeah...”
You pointed your chopsticks at the ceiling.
“A kinder Itoshi Sae. One that would actually look my way...”
Your coworker wiped tears from her eyes.
“The universe is going to hear you and do something terrible, for sure.”
“I hope it really does.”
You took another sip of your drink.
“Because this one clearly isn’t interested.”
Behind you, someone quietly set their glass down.
You didn’t notice.
But Sae did.
He had heard every word. His expression didn’t change. He simply leaned back slightly in his chair, scrolled through his phone, and gulped down his drink in one go.
The next morning arrived with the subtle grace of a hammer.
Your head hurt. Your dignity hurt. And maybe your heart hurt too.
The office lights felt like personal attacks. You collapsed into your chair, feeling tired already, before the day even started.
Across from you, Sae was already working.
Of course he was.
“Morning,” you muttered.
“Good morning.”
You blinked.
He never said that. Before you could make assumptions, he immediately ruins the moment.
“You’re late.”
“Yeah... I was-”
Before the conversation could continue, the office doors opened behind you.
Your editor-in-chief clapped his hands.
“Everyone, quick announcement!”
Editors looked up.
You reluctantly lifted your head.
“We’ve added a new editorial division starting today.”
Murmurs spread across the room. The chief editor stepped aside.
“And the team leader will be collaborating with Sae’s department.”
A tall figure walked into the office. Your brain stalled.
Because for a split second, you thought Sae had somehow duplicated.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same lashes.
Same presence.
The only difference was that this one was taller and had deep green hair.
The newcomer stopped beside the chief editor and introduced himself.
“I'm Rin.”
The room exploded with whispers. The chief editor smiled proudly.
“He’s Sae’s younger brother.”
Your coworker slowly turned toward you.
“…You summoned him.”
You did not know how to feel about this.
Because standing in the middle of the office as quite literally another Itoshi Sae.
And he was walking toward your desk.
He stopped in front of you.
His gaze lingered for a moment.
Then he asked,
“You’re the editor who works with my brother?”
Your voice came out weak.
“…Yeah.”
Rin nodded slightly.
“Good.”
You blinked.
“…Good?”
He glanced across the room at his older brother. Then back at you.
“I’ll probably see you often, then.”
Behind you, Sae quietly closed the manuscript he’d been reading.
And for the first time that morning, he looked annoyed.