orphic *ೃ༄ suna rintarou x reader

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OZAWA YOSHI FOUND DEAD AT 53

on the afternoon of april 29, 2024 japan's beloved actor ozawa yoshi was found dead in his estate in a tragic discovery. police investigations are continuing, authorities speculate that cause of death may have been suicide.
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a quiet sigh escaped y/n's lips as she set the newspaper down on the coffee table. another celebrity suicide. another "case" for the agency.

she walked in front of the mirror to take a look at herself.

her hair was neatly slicked back, showing off her thin hoop earrings. a couple buttons from her white button up were undone and her pencil skirt hugged her legs in all the right places.

exquisite, but not exactly work appropriate huh?

so she opened her closet and browsed through four identical black overcoats before stopping at the fifth one.

she put it on and fished for a clean handkerchief in one of her drawers, which she used to wipe the barrel of her 4.5 inch revolver before she slipped it into the holster under her coat.

in one corner of her room stood a ridiculously muscular man, one she hadn't seen before.

he was sporting a black leather jacket over jeans and sunglasses (inside the house); another one of her "bodyguards" that her dad hires on a monthly, mostly because she fires them, sometimes because they run away.

"dust those books," y/n hummed, without sparing him so much as a glance.

but this one wasn't as meek as the rest, cuz all he did was scoff in response, "im not here to play cleaning lady for you"

the girl still didn't deem him worthy of her attention, she was more interested in her collection of books stacked neatly onto a bookshelf. all of which were spotlessly clean.

"correct, you're here to do whatever the fuck i tell you to"

the man laughed at her supposedly feigned indifference, "well to be fair, they did say this was gonna be a difficult job"

she shrugged, prodding at the cover of one of her particularly favourite forensic psychology books, "then quit"

a small chuckle escaped his lips, "oh but you see, daddy dearest is loading me up good. too good to refuse. so you're gonna have to dust your own books"

the sheer audacity of men.

the girl finally turned around to take a good look at him as she slowly reached into her pocket.

"you know what this is?" she asked, pulling out her phone and dangling it in front of his face, "it's a cellular device that can be used to contact your employer with a tap of the screen."

the man's gaze didn't seem to falter as he looked her right in the eyes but his elbow stiffened and his index finger brushed against his thigh.

what a heinously stupid individual to think she wouldn't notice that.

y/n's father was useless, till it came to situations where money and power could be used interchangeably. and when it did, she made sure to milk it for all it's worth.

"so unless you want me to ring up daddy dearest and tell him what an incompetent oaf of a cleaning lady he's got me, i suggest you make yourself useful and dust that bookshelf."

impressively enough, the man still didn't break character, "is that a threat?"

y/n broke into hearty laughter, her voice washing over him like honey, before she opened her front camera to take one last look at herself, "oh no, god no. merely a suggestion, because i so deeply care about my cleaning lady"