Midnight Neighbor ||18+

34|| Bad Memories

Unedited~
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Hours ran by and the sun soon went down, bathing the night sky in velvety darkness. As one would expect of the city, rather than submit to the dark blue night, it came alive just as soon as the daylight sun disappeared down the horizon.

Thousands of squarish lights lit up the many buildings that rose high into the skies. Billboards and many other similar modern additions were just as bright. And on the ground, vehicles of all sizes never ceased their journey, moving from one place to the next. Commuters also hurried about.

All of this formed a picture that could be called beautiful if seen from a certain area, or certain 'areas' inside the Osoro main building. Especially one specific area, in a specific person's office.

The office located on the highest floor of the Osoro branch's main building was indeed occupied. But not by someone who was willing to sit back and appreciate the beauty of the outside world below.

Jiho, who sat in Mr Osoro chair, basked in familiar feelings of rebellion. He stretched in the comfort of the chair that was not his, sat in a myriad of positions, walked around as if to assert his dominance.

He touched whatever caught his eyes and checked himself out in his slightly transparent reflection from coming from the tall windows. These actions were familiar to him, after all, he was the only one who had the right to be in Mr Osoro office during his absence, (actually to be more honest, he was one of those persons with the right).

Jiho had done this a lot more times, infact, after Mr Osoro's disappearance to Japan, he sometimes used this office as his own, imitating his big brother's seriousness and frigid aura for his own amusement.

After Mr Osoro's return, doing this was out of the question but since Mr Osoro was otherwise occupied, he'd do so once again without a care.

It really wasn't as if he was doing all this to procrastinate the two huge piles of work that were thrown on top of his own, sitting in neat stacks on Mr Osoro's well furnished desk.

Jiho swore he wasn't...

For context, when he went by the office of that woman, after most of her department had vacated the premises. He was more that shocked to see this much work piled up, for one person, with so few days before the deadline.

And no, it wasn't as if this work would be hard for Jiho to do or complete ontop of his own. It was far less than what he had the skill far. Menial at best but in huge volumes.

To put it simply, imagine if you had a chore to sweep a single empty room of dust (not that Jiho made it a habit to sweep). Sweeping away some dust was an easy, simple task for someone to do and complete. But, imagine if your task was to sweep dust from twenty rooms, even thirty.

Of course it'd get boring and repetitive after a while. Especially since Jiho would much rather finish his own work and hurry to somewhere else.

As if on cue, his phone began ringing. Jiho paused, and walked to it. Just as he thought, it was Marcelo who called him.

Marcelo, also known as the one who had been making his stressful nights after work a lot more festive and relaxing than what he'd been resorting to.

Jiho coughed to gather himself and answered the phone with a stale voice.

"Marcel."

"Jiho?" The voice that came from the phone had the hairs on Jiho's nape rising on end. Jiho cursed inwardly. "You're not here?" The man on the phone uselessly pointed out.