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“You know we can’t.”
It was the one thing he’d ever said to address whatever it was that was going on between the two of you. It was also the last sentence you’d heard coming from his mouth for several months.
Well, at least now you were sure it was mutual, at some level. You weren’t imagining the looks he threw your way now and then or the way his eyes were the slightest bit softer every time.
The tension in the room that one time you told him how foolish he was to try to protect you, when you were obviously a good enough professional to get the job done, wasn’t just in your head. If anyone else had noticed, they kindly chose to remain in silence.
You weren’t delusional that one evening he said he was sorry. For what he said, for how he treated you. Perhaps you were sort of sleep-deprived from the four nights in a row you spent working to track down the former Port Mafia guy that had deserted (it was a good lead, it was worth it!). Your mind was a little hazy, it’s true, but just like in the mission, you had the feeling you had succeeded in something there. You weren’t sure what to call it then.
And the first time he complimented you— You. Not your strength or your strategy, no, that he had done many times before. It was no secret how much he appreciated having you as an agent, but that day you’d almost thought he wanted you as something more.
Oh, that day… When he told you how that carefree smile fitted you during the party at the Agency after the Guild was defeated. He said you looked brighter than ever. Even as Kunikida’s yells and Dazai’s complaints rang through the room and the moment was broken, all you could think about was how you’d get the President to grin at you like that once again. Only later did you conclude you should have told him he looked younger than ever, as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe that was true, but you would never know for sure.
The kiss on the cheek had been a bold move, you could admit it. In your defense, you made sure you still had some plausible deniability left. A kiss on the mouth would be too risky. You weren’t ready to get your dignity ripped apart in case he didn’t like the gesture, after all. Thankfully, he accepted your affection with a warm smile and told you he was proud of you. Back then, you were still convinced what he felt for you was a reflection of his character: ethical, just, and innocent.
He was not an innocent man, though. Not entirely. That much you knew, because everyone else did. Not that it mattered to you or your friends, as you were certain he was a good man anyway. The best man you had ever come across. With that, came the realization all you really knew about him was already common knowledge amongst the ADA. You didn’t know facts about him he’d never told anyone, he had never let you in on his secrets. You weren’t special to him, you weren’t intimate. But you wanted to be. This last confession in particular left you feeling all sorts of guilty for days, even if it was never spoken out loud.
It became complicated, desperately trying to keep your feelings to yourself. Every time you locked eyes or exchanged the most ordinary of words you felt a lump in your throat, and your heart felt like it was attempting to climb up to your mouth. It felt so wrong, as though you were being ungrateful to demand his love after everything he’d done for you. Couldn’t you just be happy having his respect and friendship? The worst of all, you still couldn’t tell if he longed for you as much as you ached for him.
“You know we can’t.”
Finally came the day he shot down any silly hope you still clung onto of one day telling him how you felt before you ever even tried. You were quiet, sitting in front of him, watching his office and occasionally his hands, not about to jump at his arms. Truly, the whole thing was just unprompted. At his sudden rejection, fury and sadness welled up in your eyes, yet you were determined in ignoring that he had said anything altogether. Either something clenched in your chest or it just broke — who knows? No matter, you swallowed your tears and stared back fiercely, informing him that you were leaving the Agency.
You didn’t wonder if you were being obvious about your infatuation all this time. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, to deny, or to confirm his disguised accusation. And while he did look shaken for a moment, he quickly put it back together. Some distant part of you, which felt numb and lifeless, mused that he probably saw that coming, but couldn’t help that it affected him. That didn’t make you feel better the way you thought it would.
It was mutual, but that only meant the pain was the same for both of you.