Bindings

by jellyspawn

Summary:

Still coming up with a plot, but you're a librarian who escaped from the corporate world and Hiromi is a lovely lawyer who makes use of your library archives.

Notes:

Hello, this is my first fic and tbh I just really want to use this as a way to practice writing. Forgive me if anyone seems ooc, it's been a while since I read jjk. I'm currently on a Hiromi kick so, I felt the need to begin writing something.

Chapter 1: -

I was no stranger to the sound of pens incessantly scratching against paper nor the sight of books wildly strewn about dark chestnut desks. Such was the way of municipal libraries. I always took notice of the aisles of towering bookshelves, coloured with an almost unimaginable array of books. Oftentimes they reminded me of silent guards, their backs perfectly straight and poised with an obstinate sense of duty. I suppose that’s why many chose to seek refuge within the library. The shadows cast by honey-warm lights above enshrouded the identities of those who sat at the antique desks. It was this sense of anonymity and safety emanating from the library which entranced me at first.

 It’s been two years since I began my work as a librarian. My previous stint in the corporate world didn’t bode well for me. I lacked any sort of talent for superficial flattery and my headstrong nature clashed regularly with my coworkers. I was quickly labelled as troublesome and abrasive, shunned from any possibility of growth within the company. I couldn’t stand the judging glares from my coworkers which seemed to gnaw at my soul. It was an entirely dehumanizing experience, being reduced to nothing but a means of profit for belligerent higher-ups who couldn’t care less if I was halfway to splattering my brains all over my mundanely grey cubicle. There was no humanity in the corporate world, not like there was in this library.

An unpleasant sensation of prickling in my arm tore me from my ruminations. I pushed myself off my slumbering arm before shaking the numb mass. My brows unfurrowed as the sensation of what felt like spiders under my skin faded. 

“What are you always so lost in thought about?” A mellow voice spoke.

I twisted my head to look at the woman who was glancing at me with a cocked brow. I blinked a few times. In my state of reflection I had forgotten about Iori who was diligently working mere inches away from me. 

“Just thinking about the leftover pasta waiting for me in my fridge.” I lied. 

A small laugh escaped her lips, “What a useless thing to think about,” she answered, “isn’t there a client you’re supposed to be meeting? Something about an archive request?”

My gaze followed her as she swiftly turned her attention back to the monotony of data logging. I struggled to understand how she never let her focus slip. Iori’s sense of discipline was something I could only ever dream of possessing. 

I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, “The guy won’t be here for another half hour, I’ve got plenty of time to daydream.” 

The blue light of the monitor before me caused me to squint as I adjusted to its coldness. I toyed with the scroll wheel, feeling its smooth rubber resist against my finger pad. Archive requests only mildly annoyed me. The fascination I felt each time I opened the archives up for a client would quickly dissipate when I realized the banal paperwork I would have to log after their departure. 

My eyes slid over the appointment list. 3 pm: Higuruma Hiromi, Archive Request. From what I was told, this client was a renowned defense attorney, a complete genius. Mr. Higuruma was no stranger to the library’s archives and yet I never had the chance to see even a glimpse of him before today. I chewed at my lip. I would rather not have been told about this guy’s status. I was prone to making a fool of myself in front of impressive people. There was no point to my unease and it agitated me greatly being unable to control it. This client was just another human being, no matter how well-perceived he was. I sucked in a quick breath, bringing my stare to the quietly looming bookshelves. 

The echo of gentle footsteps on marble flooring alerted both Iori and I. I quickly noticed a shadowy figure tracking its way through the labyrinth of shelves. What emerged from between the bookshelves was a melancholic man. He was dressed in pristine business attire, overlaid by a black trench coat which only emphasized his broad shoulders. His inky black hair seemed to devour any light that touched it and his equally dark eyes beheld a solemn calmness. I could only watch as he strode closer towards our desk before softly placing his library card on the counter before us.

“My apologies, I’m slightly early for my appointment but I hope you’ll be willing to accommodate.” The man said, his tone smooth as his gaze fluttered between the two of us. His face was manly, adorned with a roman nose and dark eyebrows beautifully framing his eyes.

The intensity of his stare was telling of his identity. I knew the name I would see as I reached meekly for his library card. Higuruma, Hiromi. How dreadful it was going to be handing the card back to him with my hands shaking and slick with sweat.

I rose from my seat and gave the man a small smile, “No worries Mr. Higuruma, I can take you to the archives right away if you’ll just follow me.” My gaze shot towards Iori, a mischievous look in her eye. She would delight in teasing me after this.

It tortured me, feeling Higuruma’s presence trailing behind. The clanging of my keys was the only noise breaking the silence as I guided him to the archives. He followed politely, though I could tell he needed no guidance; it was merely a sense of formality. 

We reached the entrance to the archives with little fuss. I hurried to open the large metal door so as to not impede on Higuruma’s time, and to get myself away from the tension only I seemed to be feeling. 

I turned towards Higuruma, surprised to find him watching me intently. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor with a slight twinge of humour. I could only assume he saw me fumble messily with my keys despite my efforts to hide it. I would be cursing myself for the rest of time because of this.

“Well,” I started, “take your time, I know you’ve been here before so I won’t bore you with the rules again.” 

He tilted his head slightly before speaking in a low tone, “You would commit negligence so easily?”

Every muscle in my body stiffened. In the time between now and walking to the archives, how had I forgotten this man’s profession? There was no way I would be able to talk myself out of this, or whatever consequence I was about to face.

“No, Mr. Higuruma, I-” I stammered before looking up at the man with trepidation. Confusion befell me as the faintest smile played on his lips. 

“I was only joking.” He chuckled, turning to face the archive entrance. His eyes flickered back towards mine. “I thought it might lighten the mood,” he added before walking into the room.

I stood, gripping onto the metal door as I watched him stroll through the shelves of archives. I was aghast at what had just happened. He thought it might lighten the mood? I could not fathom a world in which a joke like that would help anybody’s mood. I took one last bewildered look at the man before closing the metal door, retreating to the safety of the library.

Chapter 2: -

Notes:

hello!! its finals week and I'm running on 4 hours of sleep, I couldn't stop myself from writing this though. I apologize for the cheesy law jokes (I also don't know much about law so forgive me if I'm wrong in some aspects).

It became difficult to ignore Higuruma’s presence. After helping him during his archive request, I began noticing his cloaked figure more often. He often sat at one of the desks, his leather briefcase placed neatly on the table as he leafed through the pages of what I assumed was a book on law. During quieter periods, my gaze would slowly gravitate towards him. It was like seeing a word you’ve just learnt suddenly appear everywhere, making you wonder where it had been hiding all this time. 

I didn’t dare interact with him. Not that I had any reason to. The sight of those tired eyes was enough to remind me of his offhanded joke. A tingling burn would creep over my cheeks and I’d have to busy myself with work to keep the rumination at bay. 

The same scene was playing out this evening. Higuruma had strolled in, offered Iori and I a curt nod, and sat himself down for some reading. 

I nudged Iori with my elbow, gaze still fixed on the lawyer, “You ever wonder what Mr. Higuruma’s reading? I mean, he’s here at least three times a week, I would just check the book out and take it home.”

I turned my head to see Iori rubbing at a spot on her flank, a soured expression on her face. I had an inkling I could be a little bit too much for Iori at times.

“Why don’t you just go ask him?” She replied. “It’s not like he’ll sue you.”

Iori’s playful comment only reminded me why I refused to approach him. I hadn’t even told her of what transpired at the archives. I scrunched my nose slightly, watching Iori place a stack of returned books onto a metallic trolley. Knowing her, she’d never let me forget my humiliation. 

The cool metal of the trolley was abruptly shoved into my hands, loose books clattering together, “Here,” my midnight-haired coworker exclaimed, “take these and shelve them for me will you?”

I narrowed my eyes at her sweetly smiling face. 

“You’re such a busybody.” I grumbled in annoyance before stubbornly rolling the cart out from behind the desk. I knew precisely what she was doing. The library was pleasantly hushed tonight and she was bored, making me her little puppet to toy with.

I didn’t mind shelving books, in fact it was one of my preferred tasks as a librarian. With each book I picked from the cart I was offered a new idea, a new way of thinking. In calmer moments I’d sneak a look at the worn out book card yellowed with time and take note of each name listed. It was a little game of mine to try and guess the borrower’s genre of choice or the next book on their reading list. Though, it wasn’t in my nature to ever divulge my ideas to these people if I recognized them. I feared they’d look at me strangely. Worried eyes darting from me to the exit in a trance as they rummaged through their minds for an excuse to leave. I didn’t wish to taint the library’s warmth for anyone, so I kept my thoughts hidden away.

The only issue with tonight’s shelving is that I found myself overly aware of every noise I made. The incessant jingling of my keys made me shove them hastily in my pants’ pocket, jabbing my thigh in the process. My self-consciousness was only heightened in the times I felt a watchful gaze burning into my back, just to turn and see Higuruma’s aloof eyes focused on his newest read.

With each book whisked away onto the shelf I inched closer to Higuruma. His signature trench coat was placed on the back of his chair, the sleeves of his white dress shirt folded up exposing well-defined forearms. His face was soft as I watched his eyes lazily skim through a passage. He looked exhausted, more so than usual and I felt a pang of sympathy for him drift through me. The darkened rings under his eyes were evidence of many sleepless nights.

I stopped my near empty trolley just shy of his desk, gripping the handle of the cart in a failed attempt at stopping the leftover books from crashing against hard metal. My whole body tensed as the sound bounced jaggedly between me and the now alerted lawyer. 

I let out a nervous chuckle, “I’m so sorry about that Mr. Higuruma, I’ll be out of here in just a moment.” 

His face remained stony as he gently laid the closed book before him. My eyes fluttered to the cover, The Trial by Franz Kafka, such a befitting novel for someone like him.

He glanced at me intently, but I still couldn’t read him. I shifted on my feet. I had a sense he may be living with the world at an arm’s length away.

His velvety voice broke my thoughts, “There’s no need to apologize,” he tapped his fingers lightly on the table’s darkened oak, “…unless, of course, you did that intentionally.”

The sound of shuffling papers and hushed murmurs of study groups flowed around us. I furrowed my brows. Apprehension twisted in my chest as I struggled to read his tone. This man was frightening in his ability to make me squirm on the spot.

I huffed out a sigh, relaxing my rigid stance, “Nope, just clumsy, am I liable for anything there?” 

He blinked slowly, studying my face before bluntly replying, “Not that I’m aware of.” turning his attention towards the aged renaissance mural scouring the ceiling. A once pristine piece of work, now cracked and jagged, pieced together like a jigsaw puzzle. I watched as he tenderly massaged his neck, tendons bulging in his hand with each stroke. Working away at the knots, eyes still trained on the mural above.

Gnawing at the inside of my cheek, I sheepishly started, “If you don’t mind my asking, why don’t you check out your book and take it home?” I raised my hands, waving them slightly in front of me, “This place is wonderful don’t get me wrong, but wouldn’t it be comfier to curl up at home?”

Higuruma craned his neck towards me, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead. His dour eyes assessed me carefully through his dark eyelashes. 

“My home is just an extension of my office at this point.” he replied despondently. 

I understood him clearly now. The feeling the library gave, the most intoxicating sense of escapism. Stepping through the weathered entrance into the dimly lit confines of the library brought forth an immunity, one where you could safely observe the treachery of reality from a distance. Those with any semblance of humanity too often found themselves at odds with the rest of the world. 

Pieces of his behaviour began to line up, the regular visits, seeking out the quietest corner for reading and stealing away a moment of rest when no one was watching. It was like looking at myself from two years ago. He was a shell of a person in desperate search of respite. 

 “Well, just don’t let me catch you dozing off, or I’ll have to kick you out.” I replied with a wink. He seemed to catch on quickly to my suggestion as the corners of his mouth curled up softly.

I sent a small smile his way before placing my hands back on the smooth handle of the trolley. I feared he could hear the slight thumping of my heart.

His large hand reached out, snaking around the edge of the trolley. Light reflecting off the gold rim of his leather watch illuminating the colorful spines waiting to be shelved. Notes of sandalwood and amber twirling around me as I felt my cheeks begin to tingle.

“Before you go, I’d like to ask you for a recommendation.” He nodded towards the novel he had been engrossed in moments before, “I’m nearly finished and haven’t a clue what to read next.”

His closeness was entirely too much for me. I became all too aware of my position being caged in by his outstretched arm and broad shoulders. I stumbled back a step as I was sure my cheeks were undeniably rosy. 

Averting my gaze I replied swiftly, “Ah well, if you’re looking for something similar I’d say Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment,” I sucked in a breath before continuing, “Though a personal favorite of mine is John Williams’ Stoner… I could write them down for you if you’d like?”

The trolley was released from his grip and Higuruma eased himself back into his seat, relaxing an arm on the back of the vacant chair next to him. 

“There’s no need, I’ll remember them, thank you.” he replied. His face softening slightly as he returned to his reading.

I whispered a small acknowledgement and whisked my trolley away, hoping he hadn’t noticed the white of my knuckles as I gripped the handle. The smallest twinge of warmth returning to his features stirred up feelings I’d long kept buried.

Chapter 3: -

Notes:

hello! this chapter took me quite some time to write. Probably because I kept second guessing my choices. I've been trying to figure out how to keep characters in character yet still build some sort of chemistry with the narrator.... But I think I have a decent plot idea now!

Also! I'm curious as to how people feel about the first person perspective for the narration. I've been considering switching to the more common "you" format, but I tend to write more introspectively so I felt this was the best way for me to begin.

Things at the library more or less stay the same. The days drone on, clients come and go, books are stacked and slotted away– but what’s outward appearance was monotonous, brought warmth and pleasantness to me. Higuruma’s presence found its place within this routine quickly and it wasn't before long that I began to judge the passage of time depending upon his actions. A furtive corner desk with an empty wooden chair adorned with plush forest green cushions would be untouched for hours until Higuruma’s arrival, a signal that the working man had been freed. He would begin his time at the library with light reading, and when late evening struck he would sneakily doze off. His head would hang ever so slightly as he slept, strands of once gelled back dark hair would cascade softly over his forehead and his chest would rise and fall rhythmically. I no longer felt intimidated by his stony figure and impressive status. Instead I felt a sense of quiet solidarity which we expressed through familiar nods and fleeting moments of eye contact.

Today felt different though. Even upon waking up in the morning it felt as though reality had shifted slightly to the left while I slept. The library was emptier than usual, book after book was missing, and Iori wore a sour expression from the moment she clocked in. I didn’t take her moodiness to heart as I watched her aggressively type away at her keyboard.

“Gosh, they really can’t get us new computers?” Iori huffed as the fourth error in a row buzzed on her screen, “If I have to re-log all these returns I might just kill someone.”

“Well we are publicly funded, it's not like they can afford to give us new things all the time.” I said, aimlessly toying with the pen in my hand. Its dark ink left etchings on my palm as it twirled around my thumb.

Iori shot me a piercing glare before clicking her tongue, “Alright, but that doesn’t mean we-”

A deep voice cut between us, “Excuse me ladies,” 

I whipped my head over to see a tall man, his hair dark and spiked to the side. His features were sharp, dark eyes imbued with an unknown glint. The looming man reached into the pocket of his coat pulling out a small leather wallet worn down with time. 

“My name is Shiu Kong,” he flipped open the wallet, flashing his silver police badge at the two of us, “I’m a detective with the city’s police department, I’m wondering if the two of you could answer some of my questions.”

His smile was kind, but carried a sense of cold detachment that made goosebumps paint my arms.

Iori hastily replied, “I’m sorry? What’s going on?” she shifted in her seat with a look of dismay plastered across her face.

I ceased my pen twirling, placing the metal pen against the desk with a click. 

The detective softly chuckled under his breath, adjusting the tie at his collar, “I’m just looking to get some information on an individual.” he replied. “He’s been spotted in the area quite a few times so I was hoping to find out about his possible whereabouts.”

Shiu looked at us with darkened eyes and a slight clench to his jaw, “Does this face seem familiar to either of you?”

Laid out before us now was the crude police sketch of a man. The individual's hair ran past his shoulders and he had unruly bangs framing a face full of stitches. A shiver ran down my spine as I could sense a certain depravity radiating from the sketch.

“I haven’t seen anybody like that in here.” I said looking up at the detective with knitted brows. 

Iori leaned in closer to glance at the sketch before quickly pulling back, “Neither have I.” she stated bluntly.

Shiu retrieved the police sketch from its place on the counter, swiftly tucking it into the inner pocket of his coat. He glanced between the two of us, the faintest glimmer of concern flashing across his sharp eyes.

“Well, I’d suggest you two stay vigilant, and if you see him at all,” Shiu paused, rummaging through his coat pocket for a moment before handing over two business cards, “Keep your distance and give me a call.”

I watched as Shiu turned, striding towards the exit of the library but not before stopping to chat with a few of the other library employees. With his business card still in my hand, I tried to organize my thoughts on what had just happened. Iori appeared to be having the same reaction as she sat with her mouth slightly open, staring at nothing in particular.

The clock on my monitor read 5:46 p.m. and I flickered my gaze towards Higuruma’s spot. The chair expressed a cold hollowness at his lack of presence, and the light which shone above his desk seemed a little dimmer. My heart thumped loudly within my chest while the knot in my stomach only grew tighter. 

 

—

Closing the library went smoothly in comparison to the oddities the day had thrown at Iori and I. As soon as Shiu had departed, leaving behind an ominous air, the two of us had minimal conversation. Merely focusing on our tasks, we desperately avoided speaking about what could be stalking around outside. 

I sat on one of the cheap office chairs in our break room. My belongings were messily thrown about the small wooden table we used for our lunch breaks. Iori had departed earlier, muttering under her breath about some sort of appointment she’d been waiting to have for months. I toyed with my fingers in my lap aimlessly. The window to my left showed a darkening street, the hustle and bustle of the day long asleep. I cursed her for leaving me to close alone at a time like this. 

I let out a disheartened sigh, reluctantly gathering my things into my decrepit tote bag. My cowardice reared its ugly head as I debated spending the night within the confines of the break room. I quickly decided against it as I deemed the possibility of getting scolded worse than braving the cold night.

I managed to drag my leaden feet towards the back exit of the library. I’d only need to traverse a short path through a darkened alley and I’d be on the street. Sucking in a quick breath, I threw myself into the alley’s abyss. 

A heavy click sounded behind me as the door to the library shut, locking me out until my next shift. I swallowed thickly, my legs trembling as my tote bag hung limply on my shoulder. My sweat-slicked hands gripped at the strap with knuckles white as limestone. My mind was gnawing at me. Trying to tell me there was someone behind me. I didn’t dare to look back.

I forced my eyes to the ground and hastened towards the street ahead. The overwhelming sense that the dark brick walls were beginning to close in spurred me on. Like a pair of monstrous hands they would engulf me. Trapping me for whatever was waiting.

I spilled out onto the street, nearly colliding with another person. 

“I’m so sorry-”, I snapped my gaze upwards, eyes widening as I recognized the man before me, “Oh! Mr. Higuruma!”

He was placidly staring back at me, a dark eyebrow slightly raised. The rings under his eyes appeared deeper and I wondered briefly if his sleep had worsened. 

I patted down my ruffled coat, “I was wondering where you’ve been, I didn’t notice you at the library today.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even realize what I was admitting to. I tucked my chin deeper into my wool scarf, a tantalizing blush creeping over my cheeks. 

The faintest glimmer of mirth fluttered across his face, “I was held back at the office,” he shrugged softly, “new cases means new paperwork.”

He thankfully made no mention of my admission and I relaxed back onto the heels of my feet.

“Heading home?” Higuruma asked, tilting his head. Amber street lighting illuminated his features with a warm touch, his soft breath creating spiraling clouds within the crisp air. 

I blinked at him, “Ah yes, I’m just heading to the train station down the street.”

“I happen to be heading the same way–” He extended an arm outwards beckoning me forward, “I can walk you there if you’d like?”

I hesitated for a moment. Walking with Higuruma meant the possibility of small talk which I dreaded more than anything. I knew it was inevitable that I would make a fool of myself with awkward replies and prolonged silences. Chewing at the inside of my cheek I turned to look over my shoulder at the swimming darkness of the alley. 

“Sure, it beats walking alone in the dark.” I replied.

Higuruma gave me the first true smile I’d seen from him. It was quick and sensitive, gone the moment it appeared. The curl of his lips caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle ever so slightly. He was absolutely dashing and I stood there, stunned.

We walked mostly in silence. I forced most of my attention to the air nipping at my fingers with icy teeth. Memorizing and assessing the pain prickling slowly up my hands before I inevitably shoved them into my pockets. 

I stole a number of glances at Higuruma as we made our way down the cemented path. His leather briefcase swung gently with each step he took, brushing lightly against his black trench coat. His dark eyes focused on the path ahead of us, and I secretly traced the curve of his roman nose with my gaze. I didn’t offer conversation as I feared disturbing whatever thoughts he may be appraising. 

The train station stood before us, silent and radiating a warmth similar to the library I so cherished. I stepped towards its entrance before turning back to see Higuruma standing in place. 

“Not coming?” I questioned him, pushing locks of hair out of my face as the wind danced between us.

Higuruma shook his head softly, “I don’t take the train.” 

He took a small step forward, leaning in slightly.

“This is for the next time you find yourself wondering where I am.” he stated, holding out a small slip of paper towards me. 

I accepted the slip with quivering hands, shaking from either the cold or Higuruma’s close proximity. He gave a small nod before turning on his heel, retreating into the night-kissed street.

The paper felt smooth between my chilled finger tips. His business card, with contact information clearly laid out. It was simplistic and pristine just like him.

I felt an unbearable heat pulsing through me and my heart beat wildly. I glanced once towards where his figure stood just moments before and where his signature amber scent was left lingering. 

With care I shoved the paper into my tote bag and hurried into the light of the train station.