For disclaimers, please see part one.

Author's long-hand:
Am I the only one who's just now realized that if you take 'Tokyo' and move the first two letters to the end, you get 'Kyoto'? Wonky. Especially when Kyoto (near as I know) used to be the capital city, until that honor shifted to Tokyo.

Meh. In regards to the subject of Kamon (Japanese family crests), the one I describe for the Fujino family in here doesn't actually exist near as I can find. The single, rising wisteria I mention is - on its own - apparently the kamon of the Fujiwara Clan, which you may remember me fictitiously linking Shizuru to in On Location. The blades I added to it... well, those should be self-explanatory, yes?

Natsuki's prospective wages are based off of an Executive Assistant's average, pre-taxes compensation in the US. I added a sizeable portion to it, both because large corporations tend to pay more and because she's not just assisting an executive, but a C-level one (CEO, CPIO/CPO, COO, CIO, etc. are C-levels). I then knocked off a good percentage since she isn't working full time and is essentially there as part of a work-study program, but an annual salary of 4.5 million yen still equates to roughly $45000, pro tempore. If the fact that Natsuki even gets a salary calls for a little suspension of disbelief, so be it. My fic, my take on things. ;) Besides, it's Hiraku's call in the end, and he strikes me as a bit of an oddball that way.

Enjoy!

(R-E-S-P-E-C-T~! Now that you have that song in your head, it probably makes for some... choice... background music for the chapter, but screw that. Sing it!)

Respect

While Fuuka was considered a medium-sized town by common, Japanese standards, this was decided mainly by way of the residency figures. The town itself had several thousand individuals living within its borders, but that didn't take into account the fact that it was in many ways the unofficial capital of its area, which meant that during business hours, the amount of people swelled to far more than twice its usual number by way of workers, students and the odd tourist.

Downtown Fuuka – on the coast where the local commercial district was housed – was admittedly no match for that of Tokyo or even Kyoto, Shizuru considered as she rested her folded hands on the briefcase in her lap. But still, it housed several tall office buildings – moreso now than she remembered from the few times she'd passed through the area during her high school years – and near as she knew, gainfully employed a large number of people from both Fuuka and the surrounding smaller communities.

Communities that didn't quite qualify as suburbs just yet, she mused as she watched the scenery flit past the cab's windows, or their residence numbers would add to Fuuka's and probably have the town elevated to city status immediately. Not that it would have any impact on her either way, but it was something to think about and busy her mind with until the ride was over, and she could see the new building first-hand.

Normally, Shizuru would have seated herself up front and made small talk with the driver, since that was both an enjoyable way to pass the time, and had also proven a very useful manner of gaining insight into whichever area she was in. No one knew a neighborhood better than someone who spent a good deal of time in it, after all. But today was her first official day in her new position as the Chief Information Officer of her family's firm, and while Shizuru had always had some measure of spotlight resting on her, it was nothing compared to being shifted directly into the C-level executive group and largely expected to fail spectacularly.

Nervous didn't even come close to describing how she felt.

She was well aware that the scrutiny she would be under as of today was nothing personal on behalf of the board of directors; she'd met all the members at least once over the past year and generally found them to be amiable, intelligent men. She was, however, also aware of the fact that their best interests matched those of the company and its shareholders, which was exactly as it should be. So to have someone with as little experience as she had be put into such a prominent position was honestly giving the board a collective hive, and had, as she well knew, happened more due to her father's clout and connections than any talent on her part.

Shizuru had every intention of rising to the occasion, but she was willing to admit – at least to herself - that she was feeling more than just a little intimidated by the whole thing, too. So she'd seated herself on the taxi's backseat for this early, Monday morning drive; keeping silent apart from the initial exchange of pleasantries, and instead trying to keep herself from thinking about what the job would be like until she actually arrived at the site.

Hence her current, pseudo-philosophical ponderings on the status of Fuuka and its general area.

"Here we are, ojou-san," the driver spoke up as the car rolled to a gentle stop. "Did you need another taxi later in the day?"

Shizuru considered that as she retrieved her wallet and paid the fare. "I probably will," she eventually agreed; she was planning acquiring a car of her own over the next couple of days, but for now, she'd have to rely on either taxis or public transportation. "But I don't know when I'll be leaving, so I'd rather call your dispatch." She gave the middle-aged man a smile, and opened her door. "Thank you, though."

The man exchanged obligatory, if sincere, well-wishes with her before pulling his vehicle away from the curb, and Shizuru spent a few seconds breathing the still-chilly, salt-tinged air while she adjusted the way her medium-length, dark coat fell across her shoulders a trifle self-consciously. Beneath it, her chosen outfit obeyed the company's 'business formal' dress code by way of a tailored, conservative burgundy suit; pants as opposed to a skirt in deference to the cool morning, and the matching jacket settled over a white silk shirt that had been neatly tucked in.

On the other side of the road, what little flat land there was before the coastline dipped down to the bay had been transformed into a long, narrow park, and the slowly emerging leaves had the fresh, green color of spring; just barely visible in the faint light that came in pale beams from between the buildings behind her as the sun slowly rose. A striking contrast against the deeper, greenish-blue of the ocean, Shizuru decided as she enjoyed the sight of the swooping gulls and the lack of traffic or noise at this early hour; one hand coming up to play with the necklace she wore.

For jewelry it was very unassuming; just a simple gold chain with a raw crystal pendant. A remarkably evenly colored, deep purple amethyst to be exact, and something she'd developed the habit of rubbing between her fingers whenever she wore it – which was often – and needed to calm herself. It had been given to her by her father on her 20th birthday, though up until then it had been stored in Hiraku's safe deposit box in the bank. Not because of its economical value, which honestly wasn't very high, but more due to its sentimental value, since it had been a favorite bauble of her mother's.

A lone seagull calling overhead drew Shizuru from her thoughts, and she shook her head with a small smile as she turned on her heel and strode towards the first row of tall structures. The front-most buildings were the most modern and polished-looking ones; logical enough, she decided, since any waterfront property undoubtedly counted as prime real estate and therefore tended to attract the wealthiest occupants, whether private or commercial. The massive building that housed – and was owned by – Fujino Inc. was one of them, and at 20-odd stories, it stretched a good deal higher into the air than its neighbors, while its carefully designed glass front reflected the magnificent bayside view beautifully. The building itself had a roughly rectangular footprint; the wider sides serving as the front and back respectively, and Shizuru knew that the remainder of the mostly square lot set had been aside for a small, green area on the rear side.

As she climbed the stone steps to the main entrance, Shizuru unzipped her coat and reached beneath it for the ID-card clipped to her belt that she'd thankfully been issued well in advance. 'Thankfully' not only because it served as proof of identity on a corporate level, but also because the company's ID-cards all had a tiny chip embedded in them; pre-programmed to grant entrance only to the areas that the individual carrier actually needed to access. For the CIO that meant pretty much anywhere; an entry-level clerk, however, would be much more restricted in where he or she could go, though anyone with a card and the matching PIN could enter the building they worked in no matter the hour, since the company offered flextime to a large portion of its employee base.

Good thing, too, Shizuru considered as she pressed the hashtag key on the small, wall-mounted box that made up the card reader, then held her card in front of it and waited for the resulting beep to sound before entering her 6-digit code. Because right now it was barely six in the morning, and she was fairly sure that the only people in the building were the security guards.

The reader beeped again, and displayed the words Entry time registered before the door opened. The door in question was actually two separate panels of steel-encased glass that opened outwards and granted admission into a small box that was barely two square feet – just big enough to hold a single person. Shizuru stepped into the lock, and as soon as the outer panels had closed behind her with a soft click, two similar ones slid open in front of her and allowed her to enter the large lobby. While this was the most secure way to control access to the building, it wasn't the fastest way of getting people in and out, but that was why there was also a double set of large, more common sliding glass doors; both for visitors, and in case of an emergency that required an evacuation. Those, however, were locked outside of normal business hours unless the security department said otherwise. Shizuru knew from her perusal of the approved plans for the structure that several other locks were spaced out on all four sides of the building's ground floor, and that those too could be opened fully on - and from - both sides, should the worst happen.

Her heels echoed noisily in the silent lobby, which was in no way made any better by the polished, patterned granite tile that covered both the floor and the walls, though hopefully the raised pond in the center and the low plants lining it provided some sort of absorption. If not, she decided, the simple fountain that would switch on at 8 AM sharp would at least supply something more pleasant to listen to as the large space got progressively more populated.

Shizuru nodded to the lone guard currently sitting at the security desk, and made a mental note to see about having the lobby's decor tweaked for better noise reduction. Granted, the space was mostly designed to impress as well as serve as an atrium – evident from the large, open space that continued up, up and up above the fountain until it reached a massive skylight in the roof and was surrounded by railed walkways on all four sides - but if a single person merely walking across it caused this kind of an echo, she really didn't want to know how loud it could get when filled with people. Besides, she considered as she pressed the button to call one of the elevators, she was the ranking officer at this location, and to have the physical work environment run as smoothly as possible was also on her list of responsibilities.

Along with a thousand other things, she reminded herself as she exited the elevator a few moments later and turned down a wide hallway that was lined with doors on either side. The motion-sensitive lamps reacted to her presence and flickered to life as she walked; bathing the space in clear light and revealing the insulating, black carpeting and the sombre, pale gray walls and white doors, ceilings and trimmings. Monochrome and professional, with the only splashes of color coming from the occasional piece of horticulture, or the artworks spaced out on the walls.

Staid, dignified and businesslike.

Boring, honestly, Shizuru decided as she beeped through the single door at the very end of the hall, but it nevertheless projected an air of solidity that was required for a firm as large and old as this one. After all, the company had started out as a small, local shipping business several generations back, and had focused on that for a long time before expanding into trade, and if she remembered correctly, then into steel production and other decidedly more industrial pursuits. Those were no longer the chief breadwinners – had indeed given way to high technology, information services and the at times nail-biting intensity of investment banking years back – but the steel mills and the majority of the few available mines in the northern parts of the country belonged to them, and provided a strong backbone for what was now primarily a white-collar enterprise, rather than a blue-collar one.

Fujino Incorporated had major shares in very few markets, but minor to medium ones in almost all of them. Diversity, her father always said, was the key to staying strong – even in a weak economy.

The handle-less door slid shut behind her, and she waited a few seconds for the lamps to react in this room as well. Once they did, the outer area for her own office was revealed – an elongated space with white carpeting rather than the black outside, and the walls painted in warm, earthy tones. A workstation with a semi-circular desk and a stationary computer was tucked against the wall to her left below a wide seascape; turned so that the occupant – presumably the woman who had been assigned as her admin – would be able to face both the entrance and the two padded benches nestled in the furthest, right corner. There were two more doors in here; one at the opposite end of the room from where she stood, and one halfway down the right wall.

Shizuru opened the closer of the two doors first, but it didn't take her many seconds to decide that this wasn't the office she was supposed to occupy. Nice as it looked, it was too empty and impersonal; only outfitted with the very bare essentials of a desk with a phone below a wide window, a chair, a row of empty bookcases around a second door in the left wall, and a small conference table nestled against the right wall. Certainly not anything that looked like it had been outfitted by someone who knew the occupant well.

So no, probably not hers. Shizuru shut the door again, and studied the small, empty metal frame mounted to it at approximate eye-level. It was more likely that this space was meant to be inhabited by an assistant, which was a position that her father had pointed out the importance of time and again. And one that would possibly be filled very soon, as she'd briefly discussed with Natsuki the previous day when the younger woman had visited her.

"An assistant?" came the strangely unfamiliar, familiar voice. "Okay? Why are you asking me about it?"

"Yes, an assistant." Shizuru had returned to the sitting area with a can of soda for her guest and a can of tea for herself – a testament to the bare essentials the house had been stocked with in time for her arrival - and made a mental note to find a grocery store as soon as possible. "And I'm asking you because the woman currently being considered is apparently in the final year of her master's program at the university here." She'd seated herself and worked the can open. "In the biosciences, nonetheless, which means she's probably in at least one of your classes."

"Huh." Natsuki had cocked her head while she popped the top on her own drink with a fizz, and regarded her pensively over the rim of the can as she sipped it. "Well, none of my classmates have said anything about working for you that I've heard," she then said. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she'd promised, and rested her chin on a loosely curled fist. "I'm just curious. She's supposed to be quite brilliant, even if she has no actual experience with the business side of things, which makes her a bit of a wildcard." She'd quirked an eyebrow. "As if I wasn't bad enough, hm?"

The younger woman had chuckled. "I plead the fifth, wrong country or not," she'd noted, and then sent her a decidedly wry look. "Seriously, though, I can't believe you don't even have her name!"

"I know." Shizuru had groaned softly and covered her eyes with one hand. "I've just been tied up with so many tiny little details... some of them keep slipping through the cracks, and it's honestly getting on my nerves," she'd admitted. "I suppose I can only hope that I'll get along with her – if the past week is any indication, I certainly can't afford to not have an assistant whether it's full-time or not. I'm dropping balls left and right as it is."

"You'll be fine."

The single, remaining door in the outer office had the same, empty frame secured to its surface by way of a pair of screws, and the polished metal glinted warmly at her as she nudged the heavy, oak door open.

Ah - now this looked more like something that had been set aside for her; not because the room was larger, Shizuru reflected, nor because it was obviously a corner office judging by the full-sized windows that made up the entire opposite wall, as well as the smaller, though still large one set into the wall to her right. It was far more due to the fact that the walls here had been painted a faded, subtle shade of violet while the carpet, the curtains and the furniture were all done in creamy, pale whites. Her favorite colors lent a cheery, yet impossibly professional air to the entire room, and had her father's figurative fingerprints all over them.

On the opposite side from the door – nestled close to the wall and with its back to the ocean view – was a high-backed, leather chair behind a wide elevation desk that currently housed a phone, a docking station, two large, flat-screen monitors and an assortment of office supplies that included a filled post-it dispenser, a metal, mesh cup of differently colored pens, and twin, clear glass sorters; one with three spaces and the other with one only – for incoming and outgoing files respectively, or so she assumed. In the right-most corner, two low couches nestled against the walls by an equally low table, and against the left wall was several uneven rows of wall-mounted shelves; already partially filled with books on various subjects, storage boxes and – of course – ringbinders.

Shizuru set her briefcase down on the desk and clicked it open to remove her laptop, which in turn was placed into its docking station with a snick before she closed the briefcase once more and set it down against the side of the table. Then she pulled the chair out, and with a definite trickle of something along the length of her spine, sat down in it.

In her chair. At her desk. In her office.

As the CIO of a major corporation.

What on earth am I doing here? she wondered, and had make a conscious effort to slow down her breathing as the knowledge of who and where she now was settled into place in a way that it just hadn't until now. "I'm 24 years old," she whispered to herself, and in the privacy of the large room, let her face drop into her hands. "I'm not ready to be the head of anything but my own home."

And yet, here she was; as prepared as she possibly could have gotten herself, but still feeling very much like she was in way over her head.

Shizuru sighed as the computer finished booting and presented her with a splash-screen by way of a small, musical interlude, and resolutely entered her password.

All she could do was to make the best of it.

xXxXx

There was a significantly larger amount of natural light brightening the office when a soft noise pulled Shizuru from her perusal of the Nth account deep in the recesses of the Fuuka customer database, and she blinked a few times. It almost felt like coming out of a trance, she mused idly, and decided that that description probably wasn't far off when at glance at the clock told her that it was now just past eight; meaning that she'd spent two hours with her head buried in her monitors, though it honestly felt like it had only been a moment since she'd sat down.

The sound made her ears prick again; a barely audible, almost scratching noise that tickled her curiosity and made her stand and cross over to the door to the outer office, which seemed to be where it was coming from.

"Oh!" The middle-aged woman standing just on the other side of the door startled noticeably when Shizuru pulled it open, which – as these things often did – in turn startled the executive herself.

A good thing that it usually only resulted in one surprise for each person involved, Shizuru considered wryly as she let the breath she'd snapped in slowly trickle out between her lips again. If not, she could easily see any scare rapidly devolving into a chorus of squeaks, squeals or screams depending on the situation, and there just wasn't a whole lot of dignity in two or more people standing around either chittering like squirrels or screeching like monkeys for hours on end, as if taking part in some bizarre variant of disharmonious ping-pong.

A mental image that she determinedly pushed out of her head before her imagination could conjure it up and send her into a fit of giggles.

"Forgive me," she instead apologized, and bowed lightly at the waist. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The other woman, she noted, wasn't a particularly tall example of her gender; she stood at about five feet even, and had the slight, but noticeable extra softness added to her frame that usually came along with age. Her eyes were dark – as was her hair – though the latter was sprinkled with the faintest dustings of gray at the temples, as well as pulled back into an austere bun that stood at a distinct counterpoint to the minute lines on her face; all of which looked to have come far more from smiling or laughing than frowning.

And smile she did now, as she sketched a return bow. "Not at all, Fujino-sama," she replied. "I wasn't expecting you to be in the office quite this early – that's all."

Shizuru couldn't truly fault her for that: she wasn't due to start her day until eight herself, and had only shown up as early as she had because it had been a choice between that and possibly crawling the walls at home.

"I suppose not," she then responded, and formed a smile of her own. "I take it that you are my administrative assistant? May I ask what you were doing?"

"I am," the older woman nodded, and then bowed again. "Yamuri Kina, Fujino-sama. I'm pleased to be working with you," she promised, and then gestured behind Shizuru's back to the now open door. "And I was merely putting your sign in place – it was delivered just this morning."

"A pleasure to meet you," Shizuru responded genuinely, and waited for the older woman to smile and return to her own desk before turning to study the metal plate that had now taken up residence in the small frame she'd noticed earlier. The plate was cut from brushed metal – either steel or aluminum – with her title and name embossed on the surface in black. Below her name was an additional detail that Shizuru supposed wasn't to be found on many name plates in the company; here or in any of the other offices. The Fujino family was frugal with very, very few things, but the family kamon was definitely one of them.

Aware of Kina's low voice behind her as the older woman answered the lowly ringing phone, Shizuru raised a finger and carefully traced the circle with its single, rising wisteria blossom and the twin blades crossing below. No one unrelated to the old line would ever see this attached to their name, but she was hardly surprised to see it beneath her own. Not that the few cousins she had were in any way considered anything but family by most – their formal kimonos were decorated with the Fujino kamon on equal footing with those belonging to the remaining, living members of the line - but Shizuru was the only blood-related member of the up-and-coming generation, and she knew it. It was hard not to, really, given how her grandparents tended to treat her as the only member.

Unfortunate, but not something she could do anything about, so she pushed the thought away and re-entered her office with a slight smile to her admin before closing the door.

The extensive databases were now abandoned given the hour, and Shizuru meticulously closed down her sessions before switching to her e-mail program. Had it been the first time she'd connected to it under her corporate login, it would undoubtedly have taken some time for the program to pull her info and perform the initial connections, not to mention for her to set it up the way she preferred it to be. Thankfully, though, she'd started up all her installed software at least once since she'd gotten her hands on the machine about a week ago, so all she really had to wait for was for her mail to be downloaded.

Shizuru watched the bold lines fill her inbox, and was wryly grateful that she'd also taken the time to switch off the sound that heralded a new message arriving. Granted, some fifty-odd unread mails wasn't that many, but the count had been zero when she'd closed the client down at roughly 10 pm the previous night.

She scrolled down lower on the list to start with the oldest, and started reading. At least they seemed to be more of the same in the sense that they all centered on projects and dealings that she was being copied on. Things she was supposed to know about and form an opinion on, but nothing she actually had anything to do with. At the moment, anyway.

It was still a struggle for her to keep track of the departments, teams, clients and individuals being mentioned, and she spent several moments looking up the abbreviations assigned to any in-house SBU and its underlying units. The corporate structure was an intricate web of interrelationships, and even though she'd grown up in the company, there were large parts of it that she'd never encountered. As the CIO, however, she was sure she'd need to know how everything connected to everything else; even if that wasn't the case, she'd certainly have the same expectation put on her because of her name.

Better safe and all that.

Shizuru called up her mind-mapping program, and clicked her way deeper into a specific branch; then sent the mail currently displayed on her second monitor a glance before editing an entry. She was, she readily acknowledged, relying very heavily on the notes she was taking herself to keep track of everything. Certainly, there were several tools and very comprehensive databases already available, and she was making good use of those as well. Their main disadvantage, however, was that the way they were set up didn't always meld well with her own way of thinking.

Remembering relationships and locations was at best tricky and at worst downright impossible, so she'd started using this nifty little bit of programming instead, and was now not-so-slowly building a knowledgebase of her own; one that consisted mainly of brief notes of her own making and links to relevant entries in the existing systems. And also one that fit much better with her own – apparently somewhat quirky – brand of logic.

The time had only barely ticked past 9 o'clock when she'd gotten her number of unread e-mails into the single digits, and with just over 20 minutes to go before the interview she was supposed to conduct this morning, she finally felt that she had the time and background knowledge to give her prospective, executive assistant a closer look. On paper, anyway.

Her fingers settled on the plain, tan file folder that was waiting off to her right-hand side, and she pulled it closer before flipping it open and starting to study the contents in earnest. The papers contained were arranged in what most would probably describe as a bit backwards, and Shizuru idly decided that that was probably another instance of her sense of logic deviating slightly from the norm. The first things were detailed descriptions of what this woman had been studying most recently, and continued on through her latest exam results, then through her undergraduate degree and the school projects she'd taken part in during that time. Everything was coupled with several hand-written notes done in bright, red ink – notes that she knew came from the professor who served as the guidance counselor for the woman in question.

Kamiizumi Minako was someone Shizuru had done a little bit of research on first and foremost; the woman was lauding her student up and down every available surface to the point of where it honestly seemed too good to true, and she had felt a sneaking suspicion that maybe – just maybe – it was. But no; her findings had turned up a late-forties, tenured professor who was inexorably fair, and not at all shy about giving her honest opinion.

So she felt better about believing the praise she was now leafing through, until she got to the final few pages that at last provided the most basic info such as current focus, grades, previous schools, age...

And just as the door opened – a name.

Well, now she honestly just felt like an idiot.

Shizuru studied the professionally clad young woman as she entered the office and shut the door; bemusedly taking in the neatly tailored, navy-blue blazer and its matching skirt, as well as the shimmering, dark green blouse underneath and the faintest hint of what was really admirably done makeup on a face she'd certainly never seen any on before.

"None of your classmates mentioned anything, hm?" she then asked dryly as her visitor approached further.

"Nope." Deep, clear green eyes twinkled mischievously as Natsuki took a seat in one of her visitor's chairs, and a faint smile was pulling almost irresistibly at the corner of her mouth. "Not a single one of them."

"Imagine that," Shizuru drawled, and leaned on her elbows as she rested her folded hands on the table.

Their eyes fenced for several moments; Shizuru's wry and faintly challenging, while Natsuki's gaze was more amused and not just a little satisfied. Then they both grinned.

"I gotcha," Natsuki stated cheerfully.

"You got me," Shizuru agreed, and inclined her head with a smile."Serves me right – I can't believe I didn't even consider that it might be you."

One of her pens was claimed, and then held loosely in one hand as the younger woman wagged it at her. "Ye of little faith and analytical ability," Natsuki mock-scolded.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Is that any way to talk to a prospective employer?" she wondered.

"Depends on the employer."

"As well as on the employee, I imagine," Shizuru conceded, before pushing the folder containing the details of Natsuki's potential employment between the two of them and gesturing to it with one hand. "Shall we?"

xXxXx

"I think that about covers everything I had to ask," Shizuru said as she leafed through the papers in front of her with a small, thoughtful purse of her lips. "Do you have any questions?"

Natsuki considered that, and carefully shifted her legs to cross her left knee over the right one. They'd gone over everything contained in the papers lying on the desk, which near as she could tell was a perfect copy of the ones she'd received herself a few weeks ago. Every minute of the past half hour or so had passed with consummate grace and politeness, and she suspected that she wasn't the only one who'd fallen back on rampant, textbook professionalism due to not knowing exactly how to be professional around the other woman.

It felt a little weird, honestly. In less than 48 hours they'd gone from estranged friends to re-budding acquaintances, and were now having to deal with each other on a corporate level on top of that.

Ah, well. Natsuki adjusted the reading glasses she'd settled on her nose earlier; a set of rimless, rectangle lenses with a thin, black titanium frame that even she had to admit suited her pretty well, and resisted the urge to roll her shoulders under the unfamiliar weight of the woolen suit jacket. Life was nothing but a series of challenges, and at least this was a relatively benign one.

"The one thing that isn't really specified in there are the duties I'm expected to perform," she then said, and nodded towards the folder.

"Hm." Shizuru glanced up at her with a faint smile. "I don't know how much of a description I can give you," she offered a touch bashfully. "An executive assistant is, in the most general terms, expected to help the executive they're assigned to with... well, with whatever professional matters they need assistance with, to be perfectly honest." The sculpted shoulders under the burgundy fabric shrugged. "Essentially, you would be accompanying me as often as possible and doing whatever I needed you to do; ranging from directly handling tasks given to me that I have no time for, to helping Yamuri-han with administrative and clerical work on the occasion of her being overwhelmed." A hand lifted, and then dropped again. "As for what those first 'tasks' would be, I honestly don't quite know yet."

Natsuki nodded silently, and spent a few seconds rolling the information around her head before she met Shizuru's patient gaze head-on. "Would you question the wisdom of throwing not one, but two largely inexperienced swimmers into the same lake and expecting them to help each other to shore?"

That earned her a dazzling grin that she couldn't help but mirror. "Every second of the day," Shizuru told her cheerfully. "There are really only two options; rise to the occasion and soar high..."

".. or crash and burn in a sea of fiery destruction," Natsuki finished wryly.

"Essentially," Shizuru nodded, though she didn't seem too bothered. "Thankfully, I have a very capable mentor in my father, and if you'll forgive me for saying that I have significantly more experience with this environment than you do..."

She raised one hand and gestured for the older woman to continue. No point in negating an obvious truth, after all.

"... then I would be able to mentor you, in turn," Shizuru completed her sentence with a faint tilt of her head. "At least where my own duties are concerned."

Natsuki opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it again with a faint click of her teeth when there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Shizuru called.

"Fujino-sama." Yamuri Kina entered with a small stack of papers in her hands, and crossed over to the desk. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but a customer is requesting the help of 'whoever's in charge' - he's unable to track down a large order his company placed with us, and no one seems to know what happened to it."

"Hm." A faint furrow appeared in Shizuru's brow. "What do the records show?"

"Well, that's the problem." Kina handed the papers to the executive, and watched as she leafed through them. "This is all I was able to pull from our systems on that order. As you'll see, the order was registered as placed, then started, then given the status of 'first completion'..."

"And then nothing." Shizuru exhaled slowly. "Very well." A few seconds of silent perusal. "This type of product goes to a third party for initial testing, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, Fujino-sama."

"Which one?"

"We have a few options, unfortunately."

"And presumably due to the same error, no idea which one of them we want."

"Quite."

"Ara." Shizuru closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ookini, Yamuri-han. I'll see what I can do."

Kina nodded her head, then bowed lightly to them both and left the room.

"I didn't think it was normal for executives to handle customer complaints."

Shizuru glanced up at the young woman sitting across from her, and felt a slight smile tug at her mouth at the astute observation. "It isn't," she agreed, and then waved Natsuki closer. "That's what the support teams and account managers are there for, but since he's been asking for a status without either being able to help him, it does need to be escalated to someone higher in the company, and right now, for this division, I'm apparently it." A hand entered her field of vision as Natsuki came to a halt next to her and leaned on the desk. "And given the price tag..." She pointed to a specific section on one of the papers, and heard the soft whoosh of air as Natsuki exhaled.

"Well..." came a half-choked voice. "If I'd shelled out 50 million and my order went poof, I think I'd be raising a stink, too."

"Mm." She flipped over to another page. "Furthermore, while this order was placed with our Fukuoka office, the departments handling it have all been moved here. Not all the employes wished to come with, of course, but we offered relocation funds to anyone willing to make the move, so there's a decent chance that someone in this building knows something."

"Huh." The shadows shifted slightly as Natsuki bent closer and peered at the printed text curiously. "I have no idea what the name means," she admitted. "Was this thing being produced by one department or several?"

Unseen due to their positioning, Shizuru smiled. Inexperienced as Natsuki might be, she was asking exactly the right questions. "It wasn't actually being produced in those terms," she explained, and drew on the hours she'd spent meticulously combing through the company's extensive databases as she continued. "What this is, is a new kind of material that our medical section is developing for this customer, so it's not surprising that you haven't heard of it. Once done, it should be able to replace the components currently being used in joint replacement surgery, for instance, since the compound our scientists have come up with is both compatible with the human body, lighter than the current standard and less likely to chip or fracture." She paused, and flipped back one page. "Or at least, that's what the theories suggest. The place we lost the order was somewhere around sending the specifications to a third party for construction and testing."

"I hate that phrase," Natsuki muttered, and Shizuru glanced up to see a look of disgust on her face. "It's the Digital Age; it shouldn't be possible to 'lose' anything unless a storage server catches fire or something."

"On that, we agree," Shizuru nodded. "But sometimes these things happen, and the best we can do is backtrace to see what we find, as well as look for any improvements that might keep it from happening again."

"Mm." Natsuki moved a stubborn lock of loose hair behind her ear. "So where's the last place you know you had it?"

"According to this, the MRD department in Fukuoka."

"MRD?"

"Medical Research and Development."

"Hm." The soft grunt sounded surprised enough to make her look up. "Then I might know someone who knows something."

"Really?"

"Really." Natsuki's head tilted enough for their eyes to meet, and the corner of her lips twitched. "Or... maybe, anyway. My sister is a senior departmental manager here, and she transferred from Fukuoka."

So she was, Shizuru privately reflected. An employee, anyway, though the last time she'd looked into one Yukimura Akiko, the woman had only just been promoted to manager for one section of the Fukuoka R&D department. Apparently she'd risen in rank further over the years.

Natsuki didn't know that she knew that, however.

"Then perhaps you'd like to start the investigation?" she asked, and smiled at the startled look that earned her. "It should at least give you some taste of what you'd be doing here if you and I agree, and it's a simple enough task." Pause. "Unless you need to return to school? This could take a while, depending on how many things need to be dug through to unearth a result."

"Um, no... No, I've been excused until noon," Natsuki replied, and gestured first to her clothes, and then to the room in general. "Because of, well, this. So..." She looked a little at sea, to say the least, but Shizuru was pleased to see her straighten her shoulders and settle herself. "Sure, I can give it a go." She tugged a phone from the inside pocket of her blazer, then paused when Shizuru cleared her throat. "What?"

"Use this." Shizuru held out her company-issued smartphone in invitation. "It's company business, so it goes on the company tab – not yours," she noted. "You should be able to find her extension using our contact app – every single employee is listed there."

Natsuki gave her a searching look; then claimed the phone with a nod, and pocketed her own. "Just here, or...?"

"Here, over at the couches, or in there," Shizuru agreed, and pointed to the door further off to the side. "Since that will be your office if everything works out." Her eyes twinkled faintly at the brief return of the startled look. "If you need something to write on, I have a small supply of notebooks over there." She gestured towards the storage units. "And I know you have a pen." She grinned at Natsuki's resulting blush and scowl as the younger woman fished the pen from earlier out of her chest pocket. "Should you need to leave for university before you finish, just let me know, and I'll handle the rest."

"Alright." Natsuki twirled the pen in her hand, and studied the phone's display while she secured a notebook for herself and then collected the papers. "Can I say that I'm calling on behalf of you if I need to talk to someone other than my sister?"

"Certainly. That's what you're doing." She watched Natsuki head for the door, and then spoke up again as a thought struck her. "Natsuki?"

"Mm?"

"No pressure," she promised with a slight smile. "Not finding anything doesn't mean not getting the job. I honestly just want to see how you handle it."

One wry salute and a click of the door later, she was alone in the office once more.

"Was that mean?" she wondered to herself, and settled her gaze on a large fern in one corner as she rested her chin in one hand and felt her face twitch. Yes, it probably was, she admitted to herself, and jiggled her mouse to bring her monitors back to life before rattling off her 32-character password in order to re-enter her desktop. What she had just done, after all, was what Natsuki had described earlier; the equivalent to tossing an untrained person head-first into the water to see if they would sink or swim.

However, it was something Shizuru found necessary, and something she would have suggested no matter who had been up for the position. For one, she needed to know that Natsuki was willing to take this kind of responsibility, and that she would meet any tasks presented to her head-on and do her best, even if it made her uncomfortable. Anything unknown could make you nervous, and given her lack of experience, there was a lot of unknown bound to pop up, just like there was for Shizuru herself. If Natsuki became her assistant, they would need to work as a team, and the only way they could avoid drowning in these mutually unfamiliar waters was to work well both together and apart, and find some way to stay afloat and reach the shore. A least this assignment was relatively low-key, and required little to no contact with anyone outside the company.

For now, all she could do was tread water and wait. And continue working on her overflowing inbox. Shizuru glanced around the room, and then hit the phone's speaker button, followed by the one that would connect her to the admin beyond the other door.

"Yes, Fujino-sama?"

"Would you happen to know if there's an electric kettle not being used somewhere in the building, Yamuri-han?"

"... a kettle, Fujino-sama?"

"Yes."

Pause. "I'll ask Facilities."

"Thank you."

xXxXx

The soft thud of the notebook landing on her desk jolted Shizuru's attention away from the documents she'd been reading, and drew it instead to the suit-clad figure now leaning against the edge of the table on one hip.

"The schematics were sent to Urara Technologies five weeks ago," Natsuki informed her as she folded her arms across her chest. "They completed the prototype-material on schedule last week, and estimate another 3-5 days for testing to finish, and the product and its data to be sent back for in-house review." Pause. "Their words."

"Excellent." Shizuru leaned back in her chair with a pleased smile, and turned it enough that she could face the younger woman fully. "What happened to the order?"

Green eyes rolled. "Ever hear that no chain is stronger than its weakest link?"

She certainly had, and also had an inkling of where the younger woman was going with the metaphor. "Human error, hm?"

"Regular one-dee-ten-tee," Natsuki nodded. "Someone typoed the entry when it was last edited, and didn't double-check hard enough before saving. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the system to shift the file not only out of the sub-library for that customer, but into a library belonging to another department entirely. According to the database-guys, it should be back where it belongs tomorrow."

Shizuru digested that; then rose to her feet and bowed. "Very well done, Natsuki," she praised her as she straightened back up. "You've enabled the company to call a major client with good news, and in..." she glanced at the clock in the corner of her monitor. "... just under 45 minutes, managed to resolve an issue that several other people have been working on for weeks."

That earned her another blush, although this time it was accompanied by a pleased, almost shy smile rather than the scowl from earlier.

"Job well done," Shizuru repeated, because it couldn't hurt to say that kind of thing twice. "And now, I'd like your opinion – do you want to work here?" Her lips twitched into a half-grin. "You must realize that I definitely want to hire you at this point."

"That was never in question," Natsuki admitted with a crooked grin of her own. "Sign me up, boss."

"Lovely." She pulled a post-it from the dispenser and spent a few minutes writing down the concise version of what Natsuki had just told her, before removing the papers that had started the whole situation from where they were tucked into the notebook, and attaching it to them. Then, out of curiosity, she opened the notebook itself and studied the writings within; aware of the soft sounds as her companion retreated a little and went to stand by the window.

The notes were neatly structured, she noted happily. On the first page was a list of the people Natsuki had talked to; starting with her sister's name and number and extending down the page through four more until an arrow swirled back up to the top of a second column, which began with a date. The day the entry was last altered, Shizuru assumed, since the writing below the date was a mixture of letters and characters that she vaguely recognized as a digital library address – presumably the last known location of the file. After that, another arrow pointed to an extension she recognized as the general number for the corporation's database team, which had been punctuated with a question mark and circled twice. The second page held carefully spaced, short-hand notes on what seemed to be the conversations Natsuki had had, and ended with the contact information for the third-party provider, and what the younger woman had learned there.

All in all, it was a short, precise and easily understandable rundown of the steps taken to solve the problem, what was discovered where and who had been involved. Enough so that Shizuru reclaimed the post-it, crumpled it up in her hand and placed the papers back into the notebook.

"Follow me," she then requested. "I'll give you a quick tour, and we can have some of the logistical matters attended to at once."

"Sure." Natsuki amiably fell into step next to her, though she didn't speak up again until Shizuru had held a brief conversation with Kina, and they were both walking down the hallway. "Paperwork, I'm guessing?"

"HR is the first stop, yes," Shizuru agreed. "Though since we have some time thanks to your speedy resolution of the problem, I'd like us to stop by Security so they can begin the process of creating an ID card for you and get started on giving you access to the systems, and also visit our equipment group. I think..." She paused to consider, then nodded to herself. "Yes, near as I was told, there should be a PC ready to go for you. Or as ready as it can be without an actual user to assign it to, at any rate."

"This soon?" Natsuki wondered, and both sounded and looked more than a little surprised as they turned a corner and came to a halt in front of a bank of elevators.

"Efficiency is everything," Shizuru noted a touch wryly as she pressed the call-button. "With any luck HR can create a main user for you today; that'll let you log in to the computer and your e-mail, as well as give you basic access to the intranet. Any further info will be sent to you via e-mail as the accounts are created."

The elevator – when it arrived – was empty, and Shizuru pressed the button for the 10th floor as she entered, and studied her new protege as the doors closed and Natsuki leaned back against the wall. She was, the executive noted with a mixture of amusement and a hint of worry, looking a little gobsmacked.

"Happening fast, isn't it?" she wondered softly, and attached a smile to the tail-end of the question when the younger woman's head jerked up.

"... a little, yeah," Natsuki admitted after a few seconds. "I mean, I'm glad, but I guess I was kind of figuring that it would take a few days for everything to be set up." Pause. "I didn't think stuff like basic setup and whatnot would happen until my actual first day here."

Natsuki had, Shizuru remembered, always been prone to getting knocked a little off-balance when she found herself in an unfamiliar situation; doubly so when the situation in question was one she had expectations for, that reality either exceeded or just didn't quite meet. Proof of her humanity, she supposed, since that was certainly common enough. Shizuru herself shared the same quality, after all; even if she was a little better at hiding it.

"If you'd had to leave immediately after the interview was over, that is presumably exactly what would have happened," she explained as they exited onto the 10th floor, which was significantly more busy than the 18th and made them either have to dodge random, power-walking individuals or vice-versa. "Either way, I'll set as much in motion as possible, but given that a few things do require your participation – such as a photo for your ID and your signature on the contract – we might as well get those taken care of while you're in the building."

"Mm." Natsuki gamely followed the older woman's lead; not, she reflected, that she had much of a choice since she certainly didn't know her way around the massive building yet. She was trying to keep track of where they were going, though the constant distraction of office workers scurrying around was making that a little difficult.

"Here we are," Shizuru's voice intruded as the two of them slipped through a sliding, glass door and left the busy hallway behind in favor of a large, open antechamber.

She looked around and took in the counters, fridge and coffee-maker nestled into one corner, the couches and low table in another, and the medium-sized island set across from a pair of large, double doors.

"This is HR?" she commented dryly.

"No," came the soft chuckle. "Not quite – through there is the main auditorium." Shizuru gestured towards the double doors. "This area is mainly for waiting and breaks during large meetings or presentations, though I believe that the Human Resources department makes use of it too – it is the closest one available to them."

Nodding and filing the location of the auditorium away for future reference, Natsuki followed the executive over to another, smaller door, and watched as Shizuru held her card up to a gray box set against the wall at about chest-height. She'd spotted plenty of those spaced out along what she'd seen of the building so far – usually near a sign with either a 1, 2 or 3 on it - and her guess as to their purpose was validated when the box beeped, and Shizuru proceeded to enter a code of some kind before the door clicked open.

"Good morning, everyone," Shizuru greeted as they stepped through the door and into a smaller, through still large open area. There was a grand total of eight desks here complete with workstations, though only six of them were actually occupied. Five of them by women, as was usually the case the case in this type of field. "I was told that there would be some papers ready to be signed here for our newest hire?"

"An assistant for you, Fujino-sama?" Surprisingly, it was the youngest-looking woman in the room who stood in response to the question, and then returned Shizuru's nod with one of her own before collecting a folder from a drawer in her desk and setting it down in front of the executive. "Here you are – a copy to sign and a copy for Kuga-san to keep; if you could take care of that now, we can get everything from our end ready."

"Thank you." Shizuru claimed the folder with a smile, and then led the way over to a high, round table settled a small distance away.

Once there, Natsuki took the folder herself and fished out the contents. One copy was clearly marked as the one to be signed and returned by way of the HR department's stamp in one corner, and she set that aside as she leafed through the other copy. It was thankfully only a few pages long; detailing the standard things like a confidentiality agreement, her title and supervisor, the expected hours and a bit of info on where she could find an overview of the benefits offered and the company's version of an employee handbook.

The short section on her salary gave her pause, however.

"You're paying me?" she questioned softly, and cocked her head curiously.

"We pay everyone who works here," was the succinct reply. "It's not as though you're an intern."

No, that was true enough, she privately admitted, but still... she touched the tip of her index finger to a specific spot on the page and quirked an eyebrow.

Shizuru leaned over to peer at the text, and then chuckled softly under her breath. "Too low?"

Natsuki recognized the glint in her eyes easily, and rolled her own in turn. "Don't be goofy," she muttered. "Why this much?"

"The standard annual wage for an executive assistant to a C-level officer in this company is around 15 million yen a year," Shizuru explained quietly. "Normally, you'd make two thirds of that given that you'll be working two thirds of the normal hours, but we cut it back since this does roughly equate to a work experience program."

4.5 million a year still seemed a high wage to her even with that explanation, but Natsuki certainly wasn't stupid enough to argue when the point was in her favor. It wasn't as if she was hurting for money to begin with, she mused as she signed the appropriate copy with a faint sense of permanence before passing both pen and paper over to Shizuru for her signature as well. Not at all, in fact, but if nothing else, this would add to her savings and give her some additional breathing room in her monthly budget.

A few short moments later, the stamped copy had been handed back over to the young woman from earlier, and she gave the papers a quick once-over before smiling. "I'll get started on this right away," she promised. "It will probably take 15 minutes or so, Fujino-sama, until the necessary things show up in the system for Security to see. Might I suggest a short break for a drink, or a quick tour of the most basic places?"

"Thank you, Kimashi-han," Shizuru replied with a bow. "I'm sure we can find some way to fill the time. Enjoy your day, everyone."

"15 minutes?" Natsuki spoke up as they found themselves back in the antechamber.

"The employee-database updates four times every hour," Shizuru explained as she – once again – took the lead. "In regards to new records being created, at least. More pressing matters such as new passwords in the event of being locked out are instant."

"Hm." She digested that. "How the hell do you keep track of all this stuff?"

The older woman laughed softly. "Practice," she promised with a half-grin as they slipped back into the busy hallway. "Growing up, I accompanied my father to the office more times than I can remember during school holidays, so you could say that I was essentially spoon-fed a good deal of the information about the workings here." She pressed the call button for an elevator once more, and folded her hands in front of her as the two of them waited for it to appear. "And of course, I've had more than good reason to bring myself up to speed recently, though I do admittedly have a ways to go yet."

"Right." Natsuki eyed the older woman surreptitiously, and wondered if Shizuru was being purposefully modest, or if she really just was that ignorant of how much she apparently knew, and how uncommon it was for someone to know the testing and production procedure for a random product off the top of their head. It wasn't unthinkable for her old friend to downplay her own efforts – she'd played the part of the lazy kaichou long enough – but somehow this didn't strike her as being the case now.

Later for that, though, she decided as she followed the older woman into the elevator, and watched Shizuru press the button for the top floor this time.

"So what's up on the 23rd floor?" she asked as the doors closed.

"The cafeteria." Shizuru leaned back against the cart's wall and crossed her legs at the ankles. "There's room for around 300 people at once, though I doubt we'll see anyone but maybe the kitchen staff there at this hour." Her lips twitched faintly. "There's a horribly detailed map of the building available on the internal website – I'll send you a link to it once your e-mail account has been set up."

"Probably a good idea," Natsuki agreed wryly. "I'd hate to spend the first week getting lost."

"I've spent a good deal of time studying it myself," Shizuru admitted. "One thing you'll notice is that individual people or smaller teams usually have a given location consisting of a series of numbers and letters," she expanded. "There are, of course, the various floors. The sides of the building are facing roughly north, south, east and west, and the individual floors have been divided into four sections depending on which corner they're in. To further narrow things down, the directional sections have been split into subsections numbered from one to ten; lower numbers put you closer to the center of the structure, and higher ones closer to the outside walls." The tawny head inclined faintly. "Our offices, for instance, would be labeled 18-NW-10."

"18th floor, furthest north-western corner," Natsuki translated, and waited for the older woman to nod. "Alright, it'll probably take some time for it to become effortless, but I'll do what I can. What about the single-digit numbers I see plastered over the odd door around here?"

"You're probably thinking about the various security levels," Shizuru mused as the elevator eased to a stop and the doors opened. "More division – every building in the company is split into several zones from zero to five. Zero is publicly available areas like the lobby here. Zone one requires a guest ID, but no chaperoning, and the requirements for access get stricter until you reach zone five, which is where the most important equipment is housed – such as servers and the core of the network."

"Got it," she nodded as they two of them exited into a completely silent, massive room that took up almost the entire floor, apart from the twin interruptions that were the two banks of elevators; set roughly 15 meters apart on either side of the enormous skylight and the thankfully fenced-in drop all the way down to the ground floor. "Different clearances depending on the person, yeah?"

"Exactly." Shizuru led the way between the evenly spaced tables and chairs, and the curved beams of sunlight spilling in from the large windows on three of the four walls brushed over the material of her suit as she walked. "I'm cleared for zone five myself, though I doubt I'll ever need to use it; even in an emergency there are technicians far closer to the critical systems who know much more about them than I do."

"Mm." They came to a halt by a counter holding a coffee maker that was roughly half the size of Natsuki's motorcycle, and she busied herself with grabbing a cup and perusing her options while her companion predictably went for the selection of teas a few feet away. "What zone am I cleared for?" she then asked, and pushed a button to set off a hissing, percolating noise.

"The security check all potential hires undergo didn't turn anything up," Shizuru noted as she prepared her choice of leaves, and then leaned against the counter on one hand as she waited for them to steep. "Which honestly surprises me a bit," she then went on much more quietly. "Given how many things you got up to back in the day, and those are only the ones that I know of."

Natsuki felt her nose twitch faintly in response. "Yamada and Sakomizu took care of that," she explained – also sotto voce – and cut her gaze to the double doors in the one wall that had no windows, and presumably separated the cafeteria from the kitchen. "I never thought there was anything to find, but thanks for confirming it."

"You're technically cleared for zone five as well," the executive then continued in a normal voice after a brief exchange of glances between them. "Although in practicality, you're probably closer to 3.5 or so – you'll be able to enter zones four and five, but unless something is really, truly amiss, it's generally discouraged that you do so without me, for instance."

"Fair enough." Natsuki claimed her now full cup, and waited for her companion to do likewise with her own, before the two of them selected one of the plethora of available tables and took seats opposite each other next to a window facing the bay outside. Shizuru turned her head faintly to study the view as the silence stretched between them, but that was alright, since it gave Natsuki the chance to study her.

Things were, unsurprisingly, still a little strange between them, and she examined that thought as she curled her hands around her own cup and sipped her coffee. There were so many things they'd never talked about; most of it at least halfway buried in the sands of time. They'd had the chance after the Carnival finally ended while they completed the school year, but... Natsuki wasn't sure what Shizuru's exact reasons had been, but both of them – hell, all of them – had focused almost desperately on the sudden normalcy after months of living with death on their doorstep, and as a result, nothing had been asked or offered by anyone involved in that time.

She could, she knew, have pushed for the two of them to talk. About what had happened, about what Shizuru had done, and about what Natsuki herself had done during that time. Could, and probably should have, but there was little to be gained in wondering about could-have-beens. At any rate, she hadn't, and now she found herself here; across from a woman she barely knew anymore, and yet wanting more than anything to re-build the closeness she'd felt back then.

If she could. Mostly, that depended on whether or not Shizuru was willing to meet her halfway.

Natsuki snuck another glance at the unfocused, diverted crimson eyes, and then startled slightly when they flicked to meet her own and stayed there. There was a faint, warm undertone in that look that made her hopeful, and she lifted her cup in a wry toast.

"We need to talk about... things at some point," she then noted, and purposefully kept her voice as even as she possibly could. "If that's okay with you?"

She'd caught the executive by surprise – that much was clear to see - and she waited in silence for the response while she watched the tiny tugs at the corner of the older woman's mouth.

"We will," Shizuru promised eventually, and dropped her gaze briefly before lifting it again. "But..."

Natsuki nodded. "Later," she agreed. Their re-building friendship was still far too new, far too raw for that kind of conversation, but as long as they agreed that the conversation would happen at some point, she was perfectly content to be patient.

"So." She licked her lips and settled herself before finding a genuine smile. "Were you gonna get me carded, or what?"