Chapter Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa stepped out of the elevator door, dressed in a mint green coffee-spilled dress shirt with 3 buttons undone under a regular looking black suit, feet clad with boots (which is such a weird choice of style to combine with a business suit), balancing two lattes in one hand and a tablet in the other.
The office was already awake — printers whirring, assistants scrambling, someone yelling about a missing manuscript in the hallway. He didn’t flinch. He never did.
"Yo, Obi! I need to borrow your shirt, ASAP." Sanemi put down his things on Iguro Obanai's desk and took off his suit there and then.
"Woah- what?! Bro, we're not even the same size!" Obanai protested.
"C'mon dude! I need it fast. You know how that ice dragon can be if we don't dress well?"
"Uh huh, exactly! I need my own safety too!" Obanai shrieked.
"Please Ob-"
"HE'S COMING!" Someone yelled from the corner of the room, making the office burst to even more chaos.
And a second after that, the elevator dinged again, revealing a blue eyed man, clad in a fancy navy blue suit, black hair being put up onto a low ponytail. Overall, the guy looked like a prince. A very pretty, but dangerous and vicious prince. The workers call him ice dragon, because of how strict he can be.
His name is Giyuu Tomioka. And he is Sanemi's boss.
"Shit." Sanemi puts his suit back on, and get his things from Obanai's table.
Giyuu walked towards his office gracefully and elegantly, like an untouchable royalty. When he closed his office door, all the workers let out their breath they didn't know they've been holding.
Not for Sanemi, though. He rushed to Giyuu's office. He didn’t knock either.
“Here,” he said, stepping into the editor-in-chief’s office and setting the latte down with a thud. “Your regular.”
Giyuu Tomioka didn’t look up from his laptop screen. He reached for the cup, took a sip, and hummed boredly. “Literally saved my life.”
Sanemi smirked. “You’re welcome.”
The silence that followed was familiar — not awkward, just... Giyuu. The man had the emotional range of a brick wall and the social warmth of a glacier, but Sanemi had learned to read the shifts in his silences. This one meant: I’m already three meetings deep in my head, so talk fast.
“Did you call Mitsuri?” Giyuu asked, eyes still on his screen.
“Yeah. Told her if she doesn’t submit by Friday, you’re pulling her release date. Also, your immigration lawyer called. Said it’s—”
“Cancel the call,” Giyuu interrupted. “Push the meeting. Keep the lawyer on the sheets. And get PR drafting a release. Prepare my things for the 11AM brainstorm. 1PM interview with Downey Junior. 4PM magazine photoshoot.”
Sanemi blinked. “Wow. You do remembered all your own to do list for today. Nicely done, Tomioka.”
“If I want your praise, I’ll ask for it.”
Sanemi then leaned against the edge of the desk, watching Giyuu sip his latte with the same interest he gave to manuscripts — none. But then Giyuu’s attention goes to Sanemi’s coffee cup with the same order as his.
“You drink unsweetened cinnamon light soy?” Giyuu boredly asked, one eyebrow raised.
Sanemi cleared his throat, quite embarrassed by the fact Giyuu caught his strategy.
“Uh.. Yeah, I do. It’s like Christmas in a cup.” Sanemi sheepishly answered, consciously hiding the stain on his shirt under the suit.
Giyuu snorted. “Is that a coincidence?”
“Haha.. Right? Incredibly, it is. I mean, I wouldn’t drink the same coffee as you just in case yours spilled,” Sanemi muttered. “That would be pathetic.”
Giyuu finally looked up, the expression unreadable. “Hmph.. It’ll be more incredible if you didn’t spill in the first place. I mean-” He turns the cup, and put it in front of Sanemi.
"Why would this 'Kanae' want me to call her?". Giyuu said, his attention back towards his laptop, looking smug.
Sanemi flushed. He felt stupid because Giyuu literally sees right through him. He opens his mouth to say something but gets cut off by his boss.
“Imagine you’re just a prop,” Giyuu said. “Don’t say a word. So I could focus on my work.”
Sanemi just grumbled lowly.
“Oh, wait. On second thought, get Muzan here quickly.” Giyuu said boredly.
“Of course. *mumbles* Your majesty.”
“What was that?”
“One Muzan Kibutsuji comin’ right up, boss!” Sanemi panickedly corrects.
The air in Giyuu’s office was already thick with tension. Muzan Kibutsuji was pacing like a caged animal, his face flushed and his tie askew. Giyuu sat still, hands clasped on top of his legs, the picture of calm authority.
“You poisonous bastard!” Muzan exploded. “You can’t fire me! In fact, I think you only did this because you feel threatened by me!”
Giyuu didn’t blink. “I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent — and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do in your office.”
Sanemi, standing just behind Giyuu, snorted.
Muzan sputtered, fists clenched. “You’re a monster!”
“At least I never cheated.” Giyuu turned to Sanemi. “Get this pathetic man out of my sight immediately.”
Sanemi nodded. “Will do.”
The day unraveled fast after that, and Giyuu was summoned to the boardroom, followed by Sanemi.
“Giyuu, do you remember when we agreed you wouldn't go to the Frankfurt Book Fair because you weren't allowed out of the country while your visa application was being processed?” Ubuyashiki calmly said.
“Yes? I do.” Giyuu kept his cool, but Sanemi knew he was panicking inside.
Oh the advantage of being with the ice dragon for almost a decade. Yeah, that was sarcasm.
“And... you went to Frankfurt.”
“Yes. We were going to lose DeLillo to Viking. So... really didn't have a choice, did I?”
“Seems the United States Government doesn't care who publishes Don DeLillo.” Urokodaki raised one of his eyebrow.
“We just spoke to your immigration attorney.” Ubuyashiki butts in, and Giyuu visibly relaxed by the announcement.
“Great. So, we're all good? Everything good?”
“Giyuu, your visa application has been denied.” Ubuyashiki said.
“And you are being deported.” Urokodaki adds with a hint of pity on his expression.
Giyuu’s eyes widen “Deported?!”
“And there was also some paperwork you didn't fill out in time.” Urokodaki sighed.
That’s when Giyuu lost his composure.
“Come on. Come on! There's gotta be… something we can do?” Giyuu panicks.
“We don’t want this either, Giyuu. You are our best asset. We need Giyuu Tomioka in this company, and the world already knows your brilliance.. But still. This is a legal matter. We can reapply, but unfortunately you have to leave the country for at least a year.” Ubuyashiki suggested.
“OK! Ok, well, that's not ideal, but I can... I can manage everything from Tokyo with videoconferencing, Internet-”
“Unfortunately, if you're deported, you can't work for an American company.” Urokodaki stated.
“Until this is resolved I'm going to turn operations over to Muzan Kibutsuji.” Ubuyashiki said.
“Muzan Kibutsuji? The guy I just fired?!”
“We need an editor in chief. He is the only person who has enough experience.” Urokodaki continued.
There was an awkward pause. Sanemi watched from the corner, arms crossed, trying not to fidget. Then Giyuu sat up straight.
Sanemi saw it — the shift in Giyuu’s posture, the way his shoulders squared like he was bracing for impact. Then Giyuu turned, eyes locking with his.
“Shinazugawa and me are getting married,” he said.
Sanemi blinked. “We are?”
“Yes,” Giyuu said, louder this time. “We are getting married.”
The room fell silent.
Sanemi stared at him, mouth slightly open. Giyuu didn’t flinch. Of course he didn’t. He just stood there, calm and composed, like he hadn’t just detonated a nuclear bomb in the middle of the boardroom.
“Isn't he your secretary?”
“Assistant.” Giyuu corrected.
“Executive... assistant secretary.” Sanemi added, expression blank, still processing everything.
“Titles. But, wouldn't be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries. So, yeah. The truth is, you know.. Shina- Sanemi and I, we're…” Giyuu gulped, eyes twitching — clearly also dreaded by what he’s about to say.
“...we are just two people who weren't meant to fall in love but we did.”
“Giyuu.” Ubuyashiki worriedly calls.
“Yes?”
Ubuyashiki glances between Giyuu and Sanemi, then sighed.
“It's terrific, just.. Make it legal.”
“Right. Yeah, well, then that means we…”
“You both need to get to the immigration office so you can work this whole mess out.” Urokodaki stated.
“Sure. Thank you very much, gentlemen. We will do that right away.” Giyuu then ushered the stunned Sanemi out of the room.
Then Giyuu just walks ahead towards his office, like nothing happened. Sanemi just trailed behind still with a blank expression. Only heard comments from his coworkers along the way towards Giyuu’s office.
“What is he thinking?”
“Dude, for real. Him?”
“Married? Didn't even know they were dating.”
"Did Shinazugawa really just hit the jackpot on one of the most wanted Bachelor in New York?"
"But Tomioka is such a vicious man.."
Well.. It seems that news traveled fast in this building. And inside the office, Sanemi finally snapped.
“I don't understand what's happening.” Sanemi puts both his hands on Giyuu’s table, looking down towards the sitting boss.
Giyuu sighed. “Look. I hate this too, okay? But this is for you, too.”
“Do explain.”
“They were going to make Muzan chief.”
“And naturally I would have to marry you?”
“And what's the problem? Are you saving yourself for someone special?”
“I like to think so? Besides, it's illegal!”
“They're looking for terrorists, not for book publishers.”
“Giyuu.”
“Yes?”
“I'm not gonna marry you.” Sanemi deadpanned.
Giyuu just shrugged. “Sure you are. Because if you don't, your dreams of touching the lives of millions with the written word are dead. Muzan is gonna fire you the second I'm gone. Guaranteed. That means you're out on the street looking for a job. And all your dreams of being an editor are gone.” Giyuu boredly explained.
Sanemi blinked.
“Don't worry. After the required allotment of time, we'll get a divorce.” Giyuu casually said.
Sanemi stared at Giyuu incredulously, but then sighed. “Suit yourself then, princess. But just so you know, we’re doing things my way.”
Giyuu just continues to type on his laptop. Sanemi sighed again. This is gonna be a long and interesting journey.
And somehow, Sanemi knew — this was only the beginning.