A/N: The goal was to make this as short as possible.

It had taken time, but Mikumo squad managed A-Rank. They were the weakest squad, but they were nearing their goal of an Away mission. Unfortunately though, something was missing, and they didn't feel victorious.

After a particularly hard week of work, with Mikumo squad spending most of their time on defense duty, due to the fact that the other B-Ranks and A-Ranks were busy with other things, Osamu sat down at his desk in his room and turned off the light, switching on his lamp before grabbing a blank paper off of the stack in the corner of his desk, along with a sharp pencil.

The teen stared at the paper, drawing lines here and there while making notes in certain spots for battle plans. His vision kept blurring, his body protesting the lack of sleep and food that it had been dealing with for months, side effects of unrelenting stress. Osamu had grown used to the complaints though, and he effortlessly forced his eyes to stay open as the gears in his brain struggled to turn.

Before he knew it, the captain had fallen back into old habits like always. He crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it in the recycling bin after messing up Yuma's position yet again. The teen let out a quiet growl of frustration, making sure he wouldn't accidentally wake up his mother, who slept in the bedroom next to his.

Blood beginning to boil from frustration, Osamu pulled out another paper and began drawing again, paying close attention. He would get it right this time.

Behind Osamu, back by the door, a small figure with moon white hair and eyes of ruby stood in the shadows cast by the desk lamp, frowning at his captain. He hated all the pressure Osamu had put on himself, and he wished the other teen would take a break.

Yuma soundlessly approached his friend, the floorboards silent under his weightless body. The Neighbor stopped just a few inches behind Osamu's chair, peeking over the four-eyed boy's shoulder to look at his paper.

"It's the same mistake every time, Kuga," Osamu mumbled, burying his face in his hand and scrunching his nose up slightly in annoyance when his glasses went askew.

"You'll fix it," Yuma assured, eyeing the flaw Osamu was obsessing over. The Neighbor sighed, wincing when his eyes wandered from the paper on the desk to the obvious dark circles under his captain's eyes. Osamu hadn't slept well in months, and it made Yuma feel guilty because he knew it was his fault.

"It's been months and I'm still not used to this," Osamu pointed out as he messed up yet another plan. The teen wadded up his seventh paper from that night, tossing it in the bin with a practiced arm before robotically grabbing a new sheet.

Yuma watched Osamu carefully sketch out another creative plan, a sturdy battle formation that lacked his usual mistake.

"See, you did it right," Yuma said, stepping back as his captain sighed and got to his feet. Osamu said nothing for a moment as he put away his pencil and tucked his paper into a thin folder before switching off his lamp.

"I keep forgetting to take you out of the formations, Kuga," Osamu muttered sleepily as he pulled off his glasses and trudged over to his bed, flopping down and passing out in under a minute, walking right through his best friend in the process.