I picked up the stack of files on my desk and made way towards their destination. I knocked on the door lightly with the knuckle of my finger and next moment I heard a faint "Come in." This was my cue to open the door, walk in, put the files on the desk and walk out. This was the routine I had come to learn to follow after joining this place seven months ago.
"Are these all the files I asked for?" He asked in his usual calculated voice.
"Yes sir." I answered in short. His gaze was fixed at the opened file in front of him and he didn't bother looking up.
"You may go now." He practically mumbled since he was intensely focused on his work. I did as I was told.
This office, and he, I had come to realise, always functioned like clockwork every single day just the same way, apparently solving some grave problems.
I knew I had no place being in an office like this, I did not understand how could everyone find the motivation to come here day after day. For me it was unbearable.
This was supposed to be a temporary job anyway. I had to resort to this after I suddenly lost my ability to draw resulting in my art career taking a nosedive into failure. My mind had gone into a burnout phase and I couldn't even draw a line right. But bills don't wait until you have a 'Eureka!' moment and you can pick your life back up again.
So I had to do something, anything, in the meantime and next thing I knew I was carrying files and keeping track of appointments for the Chairman of the Youth Soccer Association, Gouenji Shuuya.
I can't recall a time when I had seen him with anything other than a frown on his face and a file in his hand. Everyday he arrives a couple minutes after I have settled on my little desk in the corner, and he heads straight to his office. After that, apart from the occasional instructions to bring a file or a document, I never see him speak any extra words.
And for some reason, it fascinated me to no end to witness all of this. I looked at the same routine everyday yet it enthralled me each time. I had begun to anticipate his every action and every time I turned out to be right, it gave me a strange joy and made me chuckle inwardly.
I realised pretty quickly not everyone shared my opinion on this matter; in fact, no one did. They always asked me how I wasn't intimidated by the fact that I was the person working closest to him and when I said it didn't bother me they would look at me like I had grown two heads. To be honest, it wasn't like this since day one. I was once utterly intimidated by him too and I was afraid to even hand him a file or speak a word of response but over time I had become used to it.
And now what remained was fascination. I didn't even realise how preoccupied I had become by trying to figure him out. I had so many questions and none seemed to have any chance of getting answered. Then one day I found an inkling of progress in my quest.
I knocked on the door and waited for the permission to enter. I opened the door expecting his usual serious self but I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw he was talking on the phone with an expression I had never seen before and it left me staring in shock. His harsh gaze was replaced by a soft look and he even had his lips stretched into the slightest of smiles. I remained gawking at him until he turned his attention to me, his expression switched to his regular one as he gestured me to put the files down and then turned his attention back to the call, his expression changing again like magic.
I waited for a while to ask if he had any other instructions for me, during which I found out that the person on the other end was someone named Yuuka. I later found out it was his little sister whom he cared about more than anything. The incident piqued my fascination even more and I couldn't help but rewind the image of him smiling, again and again in my mind. I wondered what it was like to know that other side of him, the one that smiles and cares about people close to him.
