Well, you’re sure he must think something is up. It’s not like it’s particularly easy for you to just sit around and pretend like you haven’t heard a couple of his thoughts. Ever since you came to the conclusion that he was batshit insane, you’ve made it your personal mission to make sure he never knows that you know.

You think you’ve been doing a pretty good job. You have been polite. Cordial. You’ve offered to make him coffee a few times. In fact, you’ve been so discreet about your aversion to him that he even invited you out for lunch today, and you accepted. Because there was no valid reason to decline, and because you are so dedicated to making sure that he stays clueless about the fact that you know he's crazy.

This could be your first mistake. When dealing with paranoid and sadistic people, which you have plenty of experience doing, you should always assume that they assume the worst. Which means that you should always assume that Tamsy somehow knows that you know he’s crazy, which means he’s definitely trying to get you alone so that he can kidnap and/or kill you.

But then you remember that he definitely asked you to lunch in front of at least three other cleaners, so if he does kill you, everybody will know that he was the last person seen with you alive. So you decide to go to lunch with him, and you let Semiu know about your plans before you head out. Checkmate.

The only other issue is just that… even though you know Tamsy is crazy, he’s still really pretty. And it’s not easy keeping your cool in front of incredibly pretty people. Seriously, the amount of times you’ve almost let it slip that you had accidentally read his thoughts and knew that he was crazy and maybe a murderer (you aren’t sure) are too many to count. Hell, you’ve almost told Semiu multiple times, because you’re just that weak to pretty people.

That’s how you end up walking the streets of town with Tamsy. Even though he had invited you to lunch, he hadn’t told you where exactly you were going to eat.

“Do you head into town often?” you ask if only to fill up the quiet that has begun to settle in between you two.

“Well, you should know,” he smiles at you. His smile is so handsome. It’s a shame he's evil and possibly onto you. “There aren’t many jobs that need us in the city.”

“I meant for leisure.”

“I come out every now and again, to satisfy a craving.”

Wow. He’s giving you nothing. Maybe you should be glad he’s giving you nothing, because then you can ask as many questions as you want and he won’t think it’s odd. “Okay! How far are we from this restaurant?”

“Not too far now,” Tamsy maintains a genial smile, even when you aren’t talking. Maybe that’s how he’s fooled everyone all along. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me. It’s nice to have companionship, isn’t it deary?”

It’s nice to have companionship when your companion isn’t a crazy lunatic. But you don’t say that, because you’re doing too well at maintaining your secret. “Yes, I’m sure Semiu will appreciate the break. I think I've talked her ear off these past few weeks.”

Tamsy laughs softly. How cute. Even his laugh is pretty. It’s just not fair, really. Even though you know he’s crazy, you still feel your heart fluttering whenever you look at him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he poisoned you.

Eventually, Tamsy stops in front of a small restaurant. He ushers you into a booth with a hand on your shoulder, warmth seeping through your sleeve. “Pick whatever you’d like. My treat.”

That’s suspicious. Why would Tamsy treat you? What is his goal here? His objective? There’s no way you’re gonna crack just because he’s paying for your lunch. Semiu has paid for your lunch hundreds of times, and that still isn’t enough for you to share all of your insider knowledge. Information doesn’t come cheap after all.

You pore over the menu given to you in silence. Every time you take a peek up at Tamsy, he’s already looking at you. How creepy. “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I can’t decide. What do you normally get?”

Tamsy shrugs. “It’s my first time here, too.”

The confusion must show on your face, because Tamsy lets out another pretty laugh. “Sorry, did you think I’d come here before? I had passed by after a mission recently and thought you’d enjoy it.”

That’s surprisingly sweet. If Tamsy brought you here in order to open your heart, he may have just slightly succeeded. Slightly. You lay the menu flat in between the two of you, spread open by his thoughtfulness. “Okay, well I can’t decide between these two dishes. What are you interested in?”

For the first time since you’ve sat down, Tamsy shows a lick of interest in the menu. He bows his head next to yours to take a closer look at the writing. His bottom lip juts out in a slight pout, and his long eyelashes fan across his cheek. You have to hold your hand to keep from pushing back a strand of his hair. He really is too pretty.

“I think I’ll get this,” he points at one of the dishes you were considering, but his eyes stay locked on yours over the menu. He’s got an unwavering surety, one that almost makes you question his definite insanity. You nod, the choice made for you.

“Then I’ll get the other one. Nice!”

Tamsy orders for the both of you, and then returns to his straight posture. There’s nothing better to do, so you take to examining the restaurant. “It’s a really nice place.”

He hums in response. “Isn’t it? I’m glad you like it.”

You did not say you like it, but you’ll let him believe what he wants. When you take a sip of water, Tamsy makes his move. His sleeve pulls back to expose his arm as he raises it. He brings his hand up from underneath the table, and sets something down with a metallic clank. It’s a voice recorder.

Your jinki.

It takes a surprising amount of self control to school your expression into neutral. It takes even more self control to keep from reaching out for it like a child. Instead, you peer up at him through your lashes, calm and demure. “What’s this?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” Tamsy gestures towards you. “Go on.”

Of course it’s yours. That’s not the issue. The issue is how he even knows it’s yours, why he even has it. It’s painful to reach across the table to grab it. The metal is warmed from being pressed against his skin. “Why do you have it?”

Tamsy hums, his hand coming up to his chin in thought. “I just found it laying around, and I thought I recognized it. I’ve seen you passing it back and forth with the boss, and figured you must have misplaced it.”

That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie because Tamsy is a pathological liar, and because you gave your tape recorder to the boss just yesterday. There’s no way it was just laying around, especially not in someplace Tamsy would’ve come across it. Still, there’s no way for you to call him out on it, not without showing a few cards in your hand. “Well then, thank you.”

He smiles again, unbothered. “It’s no problem. Oh look! There’s our food.”

You take back every good thing you ever thought about Tamsy. He’s definitely onto you, and you can’t prove it, but he’s definitely deriving some joy from watching you squirm. He digs into the food with a light in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You have no choice but to do the same.

The worst part of the entire lunch, even with the knowledge that Tamsy definitely stole your jinki in order to hold it hostage, is that the food is genuinely delicious. Tamsy was right when he thought that you’d enjoy it. “Is it good?”

Speak of the devil. Tamsy is watching you eat. You push your bowl towards him. “Yeah, try it.”

That shocks him. Tamsy’s smile slides off his face, and is replaced with a look of utter shock. Good. It’s nice to know that you can throw him off his game too. He lifts his spoon and dips it into your broth. His eyebrows raise appraisingly as he takes in the flavor. “Oh, that’s really nice.”

“Guess I’ve just got good taste,” you look at him expectantly. For once, he’s kind to you, and slides his bowl over for you to try as well. As you had guessed from his initial reaction, it’s good. “Guess you do too, since you picked this place out.”

“You’re right,” Tamsy preens, his smile growing wider at your praise. His eyes are almost closed shut from how big his smile becomes. “Perfect! Then let's come back here again soon.”

Oh. You’re screwed.

---

Tamsy must love watching you squirm.

He’s got to derive some sort of sadistic pleasure from it, you’re sure. After the two of you finish your lunches, paid for by him, he leads the two of you back to base. He keeps a warm hand on your shoulder, guiding you through the streets.

It’s not necessary. You know your way around, enough at least to avoid getting lost. Still, you can’t bring yourself to shrug him off. It’s just until you get to base.

Except, it’s not. Tamsy keeps hovering over you even as you get settled into your desk. If there wasn’t paperwork strewn everywhere, you think he’d perch himself upon your desk just to get your attention.

“Don’t you have any work to do? Any jobs to go on?” you ask him after a complimentary fifteen minutes have passed. “Shouldn’t you at least rest?”

Tamsy looks at you with shocked, wide eyes. He may be cruel and sadistic, but you can’t call him expressionless. “I thought I’d help you out today. You’re always swimming in files. You wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands, would you?”

You squint at him. Tamsy maintains eye contact, even when your head moves to get an appraisal of him. After a moment, you pick up a file full of finished paperwork. “If that’s the case, then take this to the boss for me.”

“The boss is out right now,” he hums placidly. His shadow falls over you as he steps nearer to your chair. You’re trapped between him and the desk. There’s no way for you to get out without tackling him. Tamsy squints down at you. “And Semiu is still on break.”

“And…?”

“Let’s have dessert and gossip,” Tamsy muses. His hand reaches for a loose thread by your shoulder to play with. “I’ll help you file in exchange for your thoughts.”

This is the last thing you want to be doing. If you ignore the paranoid mania you’ve been in ever since Tamsy invited you out, you can admit that you did enjoy your lunch with him. He’s a sociable guy, even if you suspect it’s just a front to hide clinical sadism. But having him close by while you work is dangerous. Who knows what loose thought you might voice while distracted?

But just like with lunch, there’s no way for you to decline. In all honesty, you are drowning in paperwork. Having an extra set of hands would help you tremendously. The only issue is…

“Don’t you have work you should be doing?”

Tamsy shrugs. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’ve got the day off.”

You can’t argue with that. “Grab a chair then.”

You let Tamsy figure out where he wants to start with files. There are worse things he can be doing, even if he is getting in the way of your real job. Now that you have your tape recorder back, you have no doubts that the boss has new records that need deciphering. The only issue is that there’s no way for you to do that in front of Tamsy without giving away your power, and in turn, ringing at least a few alarm bells.

After all, he can’t know you read his mind if he doesn’t know that you’re a giver to begin with. Even if he suspects you, it’d be impossible to come to any conclusions unless he sees you use your jinki. For once, you’re grateful for the secret keeping between you and the boss.

Even if it does mean that you’re forced to do all the paperwork you’ve let get backed up. Even though it’s a part of your job, you've never felt particularly motivated to get through all the filing. It definitely shows.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely even notice what Tamsy is doing next to you. When he had suggested making conversation, you expected that he would talk your ear off, or prod you incessantly with questions at the very least. But he’s silent as he gets to work next to you, already familiar with the filing system you have in place. You suppose you’ll take your blessings where you can get them.

When you check in on Tamsy’s progress after an hour, you can’t find a single mistake in sight. Leave it to him to do your job better than you. You’re about to praise him when he turns to you with a cloying smile. “We’ve been working so hard. How about a break?”

“We literally just came back from lunch.”

Tamsy’s smile turns into a small pout. He even bats his eyelashes, the princess that he is. “I didn’t know you were such a workaholic.”

“I didn’t know you were such a slacker,” you mutter. You slip your hand into your pocket, relieved to find your tape recorder still in there. The metal is cool to your touch as you cradle it in your palm.

His pout deepens. In response to your (immature) jab, Tamsy stands up to stretch. His body rolls into a motion not dissimilar from a cat. “Oh dear! Sound’s like someone’s a bit cranky. I think dessert would cheer you up.”

You lean back in your seat to look up at him. Despite the banter, his eyes are clear. If you hadn’t read his thoughts, you would have thought that he was evil or cruel. Even when you poke fun at him, he never responds with genuine hostility. How odd.

“I never would’ve pegged you for a sweet tooth,” you admit. “Is there anything you had in mind?”

“Anything sweet will do,” Tamsy leans against your desk. “Macarons, chocolates, cake… which is your favorite?”

“Something small would be nice, so I could eat it while we work.”

You follow Tamsy’s example and stretch, your arms raised over your head. The only real complaint you’ve got about the job is how exhausting it can be on the body. Staying hunched over those files all day is no good for your back. As you start walking towards the dessert pantry, Tamsy falls into step with you.

“How’d you let the work pile up so much, anyways?” he asks. He looks genuine this time around, so you cut him some slack, even if you know this is a roundabout way of asking if you’ve actually been doing your job.

“I read through all the files before I sort them,” Even if you don’t reveal much about yourself on principle, this is one of the things about your job that isn’t kept under wraps, so you don’t mind telling him. “Sometimes while you’re battling trash beasts, you notice things the Supporters don’t. I read through Cleaner and Support reports to corroborate accounts, and then file them away.”

It also helps whittle away the time whenever you’ve given the boss your tape recorder, and gives you something to occupy your mind. The essence of your job is to gather information and file it, with or without your vital instrument.

“Oh!” Tamsy moves forward a half step, leaning into your space. “So you know about every job we get sent out on? That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, my job is like a compliment to Semiu’s,” you shrug. “I just read through reports after everything is said and done, though. She has to assign every one of you to cases that would best fit your skills. That takes way more familiarity than whatever I do.”

The door to the dessert pantry is already cracked open when you arrive, and Tamsy takes the liberty of searching for a suitable snack. When you enter, you find him already deliberating between three different packages.

A pack of assorted chocolates, a basket of chocolate covered cookies, and a packet of brownies. He doesn’t look up at you as you enter behind him, but he does make space for you to look at what he’s seeing. “I can’t choose.”

You make a flash decision, your hand settling over the cookies. “Best of both worlds, and we can share.”

Tamsy moves to put away the other two packages, but you grab the chocolates before he can. “This’ll be nice for later too.”

“You'll get cavities,” he teases, his free hand pinching your cheek. The oddest thing about Tamsy, outside of his sadism and affinity for hiding it, is definitely how comfortable he is with touching you. He's been leaning on you with a familiarity he’s barely earned for the whole day. It’s not something you would have expected from him.

“Indulging never harmed anyone,” you say, and then reach up to pinch his cheek too. His eyes grow round and his lips part in shock. What you would give to know what he’s thinking right now. “You’re not my mom, Tamsy.”

He recovers quickly, you’ll give him that. His hand covers yours before you can retract it, pulling it down in between you. He doesn’t let go. “Let’s head back.”

---

With Tamsy’s help, you organize and properly file away almost all of the paperwork that was originally strewn across your desk. The two of you work until the sun starts to set, at which point you both agree to call it a day. Because you did not feel the need to maintain a steady conversation with Tamsy while working, the silence was comfortable enough that you often forgot that he was even next to you.

Regrettably, it was not comfortable enough for you to forget why you may have ever felt uncomfortable in the first place. After the two of you split ways and you’ve returned to your room, you finally find it in you to take out your jinki and use its powers.

Your tape recorder, your jinki, records voices and thoughts. It can replay the thoughts of anyone present during the recording of the tape. While you dread to learn what that means about you, it’s very well equipped for espionage. Even if you are not the one to start or end the record, as long as it is in your tape recorder, it can relay people's internal monologue.

Your real job is really quite easy. You lend your tape recorder to the boss, and he uses it to record meetings with… more suspicious individuals. Arkha Corvus has a good intuition, and it becomes a lot harder to deceive him when he has a record of someone's very thoughts. Because the power of your jinki can only be activated and used by you, most givers don’t even notice that it is a vital instrument when it’s not in your hands.

Amongst the cleaners, the only ones who are privy to the knowledge that you even have a vital instrument are Semiu and the boss. You’d like to keep it that way. Anyone in their right mind would guard themselves against you if they had even an inkling of what your jinki can do. While it is useful, your jinki is best kept a secret.

It’s also how you know that Tamsy is crazy.

The initial recording of his thoughts had been an accident. The boss had given you the recorder while the tape was still running, and you ran into Tamsy on your way back to your office. You held a brief conversation with him about his plans for the day, about his workload, about any problems you had adjusting to the cleaners. He had been polite. Overly curious, but polite.

It wasn’t until you returned and began reviewing the tape that you realized just how much trouble you were in. If you were a little less nosy, you would have stopped the tape as soon as you realized that it recorded Tamsy’s thoughts. But you are very nosy, as evidenced by your vital instruments power. Well… who could fault you for making good use of your jinki? So you listened. And listened. And learned.

Tamsy is expressive in his thoughts. He likes to give off the aura of someone unbothered and relaxed, but your initial glimpse into his mind revealed that he is anything but. Throughout what you had thought to be a polite conversation, Tamsy’s internal monologue revealed… quite a bit about himself.

When you told him you were an office worker: Aw. I would’ve loved to see you in a fight.

After you told him you liked your work: How cute. I wonder how long you’d last against trash beasts. “I love passionate people. I hope to see more of you.”

After you’d asked about his day: Boring! I wonder what it would take to make her frown. “T’was alright, better now that I’m off work.”

Most damningly, after he’d asked you if you were a giver and you’d lied: She’s lying. I can tell she’s a giver. Why is she lying to me? If she’s a noncombatant, it could become an issue. It’s always the noncombat abilities that become the most insidious. There’s no other reason for her to lie to me. “Oh, well I guess you just had that kind of aura.”

As you’d listened further, Tamsy’s thoughts began to devolve into a paranoid mess that you could barely make sense of. It was only when you’d bid him goodbye that he thought of a final coherent sentence.

I wonder how hard I could press before you break.

It was the last line that had truly given you chills. The only small comfort was that there was no way for Tamsy to even begin to know what your ability is. As long as you refrain from showing your hand, Tamsy’s paranoia will be simply that. Paranoia.

It was easy, from then, to begin to read Tamsy’s thoughts. It became almost a habit, the way you’d hit record during the silence in your conversations. It was initially born of self preservation, but with time… well… you may have gotten too comfortable prodding around his brain. Despite Tamsy’s innate cruelty, he is incredibly entertaining.

You had toyed with the idea, once or twice, to try and figure out why exactly he’s so paranoid. It didn’t slip past you that he hated being lied to, but there was something more serious to the way Tamsy appraised you. It wouldn’t be hard, in truth, to figure out why.

But then you remembered that it’s way outside of your pay grade to care about what Tamsy of all people is up to. Being nosy is good and fine, but knowing too much is what gets people killed. You have heard enough of his thoughts to know that Tamsy would do away with you if he thought you were getting in his way. He can search for the truth as much as he wants. He is not getting anything out of you.

So start up your tape recorder, and find it open on the newest record left by the boss.

You listen to the recording left by Arkha, taking note of what isn’t being said to review with him in the morning. It takes a considerable amount of time, with multiple rewinds required for you to properly pick out overlapping thoughts and voices. By the time you finish, you’re exhausted and ready for bed. Out of habit, you swipe through the recordings you have stored. Any changes will be attributed to Tamsy’s meddling.

To your surprise, almost everything is as you left it. The only notable change is an extra recording dated after Arkha’s. It's a short recording, and you still have your headphones plugged in, so you decide to let it play.

The first thing that registers once you hit play is the sound of someone’s throat clearing. Then, Tamsy’s familiar voice rings out through the speaker.

“Hello hello! Y’know, it’s pretty hard to think about what kind of message you want to leave for somebody when they’re not in front of you. I wonder how you’ll react when you find this. Hmm… what to say, what to say.”

“You should be more careful with your things. I was worried when I found this just laying there in the kitchen.” Who knew it’d be so easy to swipe things from the boss’s desk? “You’re lucky it’s not damaged in any way!”

I know this is your vital instrument.

“Y’know, it wouldn’t hurt you to be more open with me.” Stop lying to me. “Let’s spend more time together from now on. Buh-bye!”

The recording ends abruptly in the middle of Tamsy’s disjointed giggling. Through the cacophony of his laughs, you can make out one final whispered thought.

I’m having so much —

fun.