Tristan shook out his umbrella on the doorstep of the side door to an old, victorian era house that had been restored on the inside a few decades ago. Inside there was a small hall, with a narrow, crooked stair leading up to the second floor. In past times it had probably been a personnel's stair, but now it led up to the office. A pinboard on the wall contained a few posters for the Greens, a fact sheet about vegetarianism and veganism, pro-LGBT pamflets and some promotions for charities. He took a glance over the board, but found nothing new since the week before, so he continued up the stairs.

Once he reached the top, he saw the familiar sight of Liz. She smiled and handed him a plastic cup of tea. Gratefully he took it, warming his red and shaking hands on it.
“Hey, thank you.” he said with a nod toward her, causing her to smile wider.
“No worries, the weather is awful. Did you have the meeting schedule?”
“Yeah, wait, er…” Tristan looked between the hand holding his umbrella, and the other with the cup of tea. “Could you hold this for me?”
Liz did as he asked, taking the still dripping umbrella and his cup of tea, while Tristan dug through his bag and plucked out a green folder. He quickly flipped through it and found the points they were to address this meeting. He took his cup of tea and umbrella back, exchanging it for the folder.
“We need to discuss a few important points on funding, especially with the headquarters, so this might be a long meeting.” He added, taking a quick sip of the sickeningly sweet tea. Liz nodded as she looked over the schedule.
“It's best we get this all figured out in one go, leave no loose ends.”
“Well then, let's get to it.” Tristan said, as he rolled his neck and straightened his back out, trying to appear more ready for this than he really felt.

The meeting took up the entire afternoon, save for a short break in-between. It was an endless discussion about financial points and the goals that had been set for them that year. As per usual there was too little funding, and too much to do, leaving them in permanent conflict about what to sacrifice and what to maintain. Eventually compromises were made, probably for the sheer reason that nobody wanted to stay any longer – except perhaps Tristan.
When everyone had left, he stuck around to finish typing up the last mails and documents. But once he was done with one thing, he found another that needed to be done, afraid that if he let it wait he would forget, or somehow get scolded for not doing it in time. Gone in the flow of emails, reports and planning, he didn't take note of the time. Until he heard a knock on his open doorframe.

“You’re still here?” Liz asked rather surprised, her woollen coat covered in tiny droplets from the rain outside that sparkled in the dim office light. Only then did he notice that it was already past eight.
“Oh, yeah… I wanted to make sure everything was taken care of?”
She sighed a little, then walked over and leant on the desk beside him. He tried to avoid her gaze, feeling like a child about to get scolded.
“Hey Triss, let's talk for a moment.” She said with a smile, trying to catch his gaze but he just looked the other direction, not sure how he felt about talking. “It's only a moment, I'm not mad, just worried?”
Finally he looked up and nodded, but he couldn't think of any words to say.
“What happened Saturday? After the speech?”
For a moment Tristan searched for words, and Liz gave him the time to do so.
“I was afraid that you would be mad at me, because I lost the cufflink? I just panicked a little, that's all.”
“You know I wouldn't be mad at you. We would’ve gone and looked after the presentation. It wasn’t as if you did it on purpose.”
“I know that I was just… I didn't want to disappoint you? And your father.”
“Trissy,” she sighed softly, before giving him a long, unexpectedly intense stare. He looked at her for a moment, but inadvertently his gaze drifted down again to look anywhere but at her. “Is that really everything? You know you can tell me, right? And, you don't have to work yourself to death to impress us, or impress your professors.”
“No, that was it. I'm sorry if I scared you.” He apologised with a slight smile, that quickly faded again. “I was just very stressed and it got to me. But everything is fine now, thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm.” He nodded. “I'm fine.”
She smiled, but then gently took both his hands and pulled him away from the computer.
“Come on, you've done enough for today, Prime Minister.” Her smile widened into a grin, and he couldn't help but smile back a little, knowing that she was right.
Should I've just told her? … am I really fine? … I don't want to worry her… yeah, I'll be fine… eventually…
“Why did you come here, by the way?” He asked as she let go of him and he began to pack his documents and pens up in his bag.
“I forgot the notes from the meeting, so dad brought me here to pick them up. I’m sure he can bring you back home too.”
“Oh no, it’s,-”
“No, it’s not fine. Tristan – it’s frigid, it’s raining, and I don’t want to sit through another debate session of you sneezing and wheezing because you've got a cold, just because you won't take anyone's help. Got it?” She said, raising and lowering her finger in time with her words. Tristan just lifted his hands to his chest as if she was holding him up.
“I got it, I’m sorry.”
Liz sighed again and deflated a little, but then straightened her back out and smiled. Meanwhile Tristan looked on somewhat cautious, afraid to get scolded again. When she smiled, so did he, not because he felt like it, but as a ward against disappointing her.
“Come on, let's go. It’s late.”

It was only a few minutes from the office to the front step of Tristan's apartment building by car, but he still felt as if he'd been a bother somehow. So he tried to be as polite as possible when leaving.
“Thank you for the ride Mr. Everett.” He said with a smile from under his umbrella, as he leant in towards the open door of the Tesla car. Liz’s dad smiled back at him.
“No problem Mr. Wright. Now go inside, you’re getting rained on.” The man said, making a slight shooing gesture.
“Bye Triss, see you at debate.” Liz added from the back seat, and if he hadn’t gotten the hint the first time around, she too began to make that gesture.
“Shoo shoo.” - “Shoo.” They both said in time. Tristan just rolled his eyes and smiled.
“Okay okay, see ya.” He said, lifting his hand in a goodbye before turning around to walk to his apartment.

With a few heavy clicks, his front door fell open, and Tristan nearly tumbled in after it. His feet hurt, his suit had started to pinch, and the strap of his messenger bag had dug into his shoulder. He shut the door behind him, to immediately take off his bag and kick off his shoes. With a soft sigh he leant against the door of the bathroom beside him, then flicked on the light. He ran a hand through his slightly wet, unruly hair that had once been neatly done, but by the end went whichever direction the wind blew.
A loud growl from his stomach made him debate whether to eat first, then shower, or the other way around. He figured he would rather cook when clean and warm, and that he could put off the hunger for a moment longer. So he set his bag on the couch, then took off his tie and waistcoat while walking back into his bathroom.
Once he had showered, he put on a clean dress shirt which he buttoned up except for the top two buttons, and loose boxershorts. Now the weather was only a distant memory pattering against his windows, he got into the swing of things once more.

While he chopped up a few vegetables and some marinated chicken to make a very basic curry with, his phone played soft but upbeat and catchy pop tunes, occasionally interspersed with rock classics. He hummed along as he cooked, sometimes quietly singing the songs he knew well. Although he was focused entirely on making his food, he still sang his parts in tune; his voice and mind catching on easily to the music either through talent or practise.
It didn't take him very long to make his curry, and soon enough he poured a generous amount of the smooth, fragrant sauce over yellow rice. The remainder he had left he covered with a clean towel, letting it sit to cool and save for the next day. He set his plate down on his desk, then walked over to his bookcase to pluck one of his newest second hand books from the shelves. Although he'd read most of Agatha Christie’s works, there were a few he still needed to get to: so he picked up one of those and sat back down at his desk to read while he ate.

Once he had finished his belated dinner, he had quickly cleaned up his plate and pans, and set the leftovers in his fridge. Now clean, fed and comfortable, he laid down on his couch with his book resting on his chest. He held it up with one hand, his index keeping the pages in place.
He'd gotten through a solid fifty pages, when his mind started to fail him, having spend too long already on reading documents and writing reports. He sighed a little, then memorised the page before he shut the book and laid it on the coffee table. When he sat up, he stretched out and rolled his shoulders a few times to get them loose. Instead he picked up his phone, and checked the time to find it was a little past ten; not quite late enough to fall asleep, but too late to really focus on anything.
Not sure what else to do, he figured he would do some mindless internet browsing or chatting – maybe get a few chess moves in against his grandpa if he was still awake.
It was only then he remembered his earlier chat with Hibiki.

T: Hey, sorry I didn't respond. I got caught up in work.

A few minutes and several chess moves later a reply popped up.

H: I thought the hitman would have gotten you by now.

T: Why would you send a hitman after me?

H: So I can use the power void and become the first mute debate leader ever
Is that not obvious?

T: Yes of course.
But in the time it took you to write that, I moved behind you.

H: Ha.
That is merely the decoy me
You will never find me

T: Damn you and your ninja tricks.

H: 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜
I actually do have a black belt
But not in ninjutsu

T: Really?
For self defense?

H: Yes
It's aikido and jujutsu
I had to or my parents wouldn't allow me to go to America
They made me go to training every week
It's not as widespread here though
So I practise with my bodyguards

T: That's amazing.
But I still have a horse ;)

H: Damn it (>-<)
I need to invent horse-jutsu
And law-jutsu…
This stuff is so boring
Is politics this boring?

T: Politics is mostly arguing minor policies.
And yelling at the other party over major things.
It's a lot of fighting and lying.

H: Then why did you choose it?
You don't seem like that kind of person

T: Because we need more good politicians.
Avoiding it won't help.
Neither will avoiding studying if you do law.

H: I'm not avoiding
Just temporarily not doing

T: But seriously, aren't you really busy?
I can barely keep up with one study.

H: It's not so bad
You have debate and work too, right?
I only exercise and study
I don't really do much else
Sometimes I watch a movie
Or read a book
But that's it

T: I hope you'll be able to manage.
By the way I'm reading Agatha Christie right now.
Or well, until a few minutes ago.

H: Really?
I love her books!
I have all of them
You haven't read them all?

T: Most, but not all.
I didn't think you'd have read all?

H: Some I read twice
I like to read her books when I fly
Or have a long drive
When I don't drive myself

T: I usually read before I go to bed.
But I had a long day and I can't really focus.

H: I thought you read really difficult books
Like, Moby Dick, or Shakespeare
I don’t remember, I was too drunk when we talked

T: Sometimes, but not always?
I like to read modern books as well, and historical fiction, and sometimes a terrible romance novel when I've gone through all the good stuff.
I buy thrift store boxes of books nearby, it's ten pounds for a set of fifteen. Sometimes it has good books, other times it was someone's bad romance shelf.
The last one I bought had a lot of Agatha Christie.

H: If you don't have all, you can borrow mine?
I also have Sherlock Holmes, and the James Bond books
A lot of Scandinavian thrillers and some journalist works as well, but those are more about war zones
Or sometimes serial killers

T: You really like crime, don't you?

H: I don't like crime
It’s more that I like the criminals getting caught
When I was younger I even had to check if the good guys won
Otherwise I wouldn’t watch it

T: When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a knight.
Like the princes in fairy tales, fighting dragons and all that.
I guess I still would be if I could.

H: You already have a horse
You’re like halfway there

T: Haha, that’s true.
I’m not sure what I’d be fighting though?
There aren’t any dragons left.
Or damsels in distress.

H: You can come save me from my next law class?

T: That’s not exactly a damsel in distress though.

H: You haven’t seen my law classes
This professor is so boring (>-<)
I’d pay you to come in on a horse and save me
You can have all my matcha cake
And my mochi too

T: Haha, I’ll consider it.
It’s late though, and I need to get up early.
I didn’t even get to start my essay, so I’m going to have a busy day tomorrow.
But it was nice talking to you :)

H: Yeah
Thanks for chatting with me
It really made my day
I’ll bring that cake Friday as a reward
Oh, and tell me if you need any books?
I can bring those too

T: You don’t have to, I have enough books right now
But I’ll tell you when I’ve gone through them
So, see ya :)

H: Okay
Cya (^_^)/

Once he’d received the last text message, Tristan locked his phone and laid it away beside his pillow. He raised his arms above his head and stretched out his legs while he yawned. His hands hit the cool wall behind him, so he quickly pulled them back a little. Despite all the work he had put in today, his mind still mulled over his schedule thrice. He had to be sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything, and even when he was, he was afraid that he wouldn’t have enough time for everything. Until finally he did the only thing he could in his tiredness; hope that he had scheduled well enough, and if he hadn’t he would have to deal with it in the morning.

He fell into a deep, confusing dream; one where his mother was yelling at him for forgetting something he didn’t even know he should have to remember. Where no matter what he did, there was always more homework, and more chores, and she got increasingly mad. Afraid, and unable to deal with this endless barrage of effort and berating, he tried to hide away, somewhere were the world couldn’t find him. But the walls of his safe haven broke down, until there was not a trace left – only cold and rain, and a distant light outlining the figure of his mother. He didn’t want to go home, but everywhere else lead into endless dark. Her yelling got louder, and he only more hesitant.
She slammed the door shut. The light vanished, and he was alone in the dark. Left with nothing. Silence. He felt scared, like he always had – yet somehow relieved.

A sweet, happy yet fairly plain tune permeated the dark.