"Matoi! Aisle 31!"

The voice came out crackled, the intercom rather outdated despite the massive amount of money Ragyo Kiryuin possessed. Ryuko bit back a sigh, unwilling to show even the slightest notion of weakness even though she was far past the point of exasperation. Grumbling to herself, she turned away from the packets of instant rice she was placing on the shelf.

"What's up, Eyebrows?" She asked, turning into the aisle and fighting to keep a smirk from her face as the edge of her manager's mouth dipped ever so slightly in frustration.

Finding ways to rile up her manager was the only way Ryuko could cope with her monotonous job. Satsuki Kiryuin was every bit as ruthless as her mother, and Ryuko would hazard a guess that gaining a managerial position had been the result of pure nepotism rather than a display of skill. That was not to say Satsuki was not skilled at her job, however. Apparently, after the old manager had been 'dismissed' and replaced with Satsuki, profit margins boomed. Unfortunately for Ryuko, Satsuki did not tolerate slackers in her store.

"Matoi. Look at this shelf," Satsuki ordered, her posture not quite as perfect as it usually was. Her knee was still injured from when Ryuko had dropped eggs all over the floor. She remembered the event clear as day. It was almost a thing of beauty; the Kiryuin daughter had sailed through the air, egg yolks smearing across the floor as she smashed her knee into the tiling with a sickening sound. She only took the minimum amount of absence required before returning; luckily, her kneecap was somehow not broken and Ryuko was shocked to find she still had a job. Satsuki still walked with a limp though.

"What's wrong with it? Looks fine to me," Ryuko said with a shrug. She was being honest. The tins of beans sat obediently (as any person or inanimate object tended to under the scrutiny of Satsuki Kiryuin) staring back, reminding Ryuko that she had skipped breakfast. Her stomach groaned in regret, but Satsuki showed no signs that she had heard it, face still set in stone.

"Get closer."

Ryuko rolled her eyes. She was used to this routine; ever since Satsuki had arrived and the two locked eyes it seemed as though she was hell-bent on making the unruly worker break. There was something of an upside though; Ryuko was somehow able to get away with a lot of things that other workers weren't. Her co-worker and best friend Mako had almost booked her funeral the first time she called Satsuki 'Eyebrows', but nothing ever came of issue, and the nickname had become a familiarity between them. When another employee had used the nickname however, he was never heard from again.

Mako sometimes commented that Satsuki had a soft spot for Ryuko. Perhaps even a crush. If Ryuko was being totally honest (which, after being plied full of alcohol at Mako's Halloween party, she was) that crush wouldn't be completely one-sided. It didn't mean the manager didn't piss her off though.

Tearing herself from the thoughts, Ryuko growled out, "what now? Am I just gonna be stood here all morning staring at some beans? I spent enough time stacking them a few minutes ago."

"Watch your tone," Satsuki warned in response. She seemed to realise that Ryuko was simply too dense to understand what she was hinting at, and so she took pity: "Look at the labels."

Ryuko frowned as she focused on the labels even closer. Realisation of what Satsuki was getting at hit her and she stood ramrod straight, jaw clenched. "If you think I'm spending another two hours moving tins of beans around to satisfy your-"

"You will do it, Matoi," Satsuki interrupted. Ryuko could only watch as she lifted her arm slowly, deliberately, moving it to the back of the shelf before swiping outwards, tins clattering to the floor noisily. She glared at her employee expectantly. Several emotions passed across Ryuko's face before her features set to an image of eerie calm.

Satsuki wasn't expecting the assault that came at her, faintly aware of Ryuko coming at her fast. Ryuko had only intended to get up in Satsuki's face for intimidation purposes, but ended up slipping one of the fallen cans, unable to stop herself flying forward. Satsuki's hands grasped the forearms of her attacker, her usually sharp instincts failing her as the momentum from Ryuko's fall barreled them both to the floor. Satsuki had the worst of it however, feeling tins of beans dig harshly into her back as she fell heavily onto them, winded by Ryuko's weight. A pained gasp escaped her lips. She berated herself for allowing it.

The worst was yet to come, however. Ryuko's right knee came down and collided directly with her injured one. Her mind went white, a breathy sigh of pain the last thing she registered as everything faded.

"Mako… Mako!" Ryuko said, panicked. "I've killed her!"

Mako Mankanshoku was an unconventional expert in crises. But this was more than a crisis. This was akin to a global catastrophe. Even the relatively optimistic Mako had to wince in pity when Ryuko had spooled off a hasty version of events over the phone. She tried her best to soothe her worried friend but knew Ryuko was in this alone.

The worker looked over at the knocked out form of Satsuki Kiryuin, her cheek smeared with sauce that had leaked from a broken tin. Pushing aside the thought that Satsuki didn't look half as bad when she wasn't scowling like she'd stepped in shit, Ryuko contemplated her options.

Escaping the country was not feasible; Satsuki would hunt her down with bloodhounds and feed her to the head of customer service Nonon. Hell, that was the lucky option; security guard Gamagori could get her first, and if that happened she was sure even her long-dead ancestors would feel the pain of what he'd do. Before she could think more about the gargantuan hole she had dug herself into, Mako's cheery tones rushed through the phone.

"Sorry Ryuko, gotta go! Vacation time and all that!"

The call abruptly ended and Ryuko sighed, running a hand through her hair and stuffing the phone back into her pocket. She couldn't blame Mako for not getting involved, and it wasn't fair to worry her while she was on vacation with her family, wherever they were. Honestly, Ryuko hadn't listened much to the spew of information Mako had thrown at her.

She turned back to the problem at hand.

An abandoned trolley stood to the side, a sudden beacon of hope to the distressed worker. She gaped at it for a second, the idea seeming to be a brilliant one in her head. She picked up her manager with a grunt, taking extra care not to damage the knee more than she already had, and dumped her body in the trolley, arms and legs splaying out of the sides. If Ryuko wasn't neck-deep in the pit of shit she may as well have called her everyday life she would have laughed her ass off.

"Hope you like these wheels, Kiryuin," Ryuko muttered before running down the aisle with the trolley, making a beeline for the exit and the solace of her car. What she would do when the other employees searched for Satsuki and checked the CCTV footage she had no idea. She was very much an 'in the moment' kind of person. 'Which is why I'm in this situation in the first place.'

After a cursory glance at the doors confirmed that Gamagori was probably still doing whatever he did before his shift started, she allowed herself to breathe, proceeding to push the trolley out into the car park as though she had finished her weekly shopping. 'Your lesbian pantsuit probably cost more than my car,' Ryuko mused distractedly, watching the slow rise and fall of Satsuki's chest. She then blushed, irritated at herself for ogling her unconscious manager, and kicked on the brakes just outside the passenger side of her car.

Strapping the manager into the seat proved difficult; more than once Satsuki's body slumped against Ryuko, making the task much harder than it should have been. At the sight of the stained suit jacket, Ryuko sighed, wondering how she would even begin to scrounge together the money to pay for its replacement, especially knowing her working days would be over as soon as Satsuki came to.

"Damn it, Kiryuin," Ryuko grunted out, fumbling with her keys. Satsuki's arm was looped around her shoulder, body supported by Ryuko's hand on her waist. "If you lost your giant eyebrows you'd probably drop a few pounds and make my life easier."

A snicker suddenly sounded, causing Ryuko to drop her keys.

"Must you always be so incompetent, Matoi?" Satsuki asked through gritted teeth, though whether that was through anger or pain Ryuko could not say. Probably both.

She remained silent, unsure as to how she could salvage the situation without stomping her foot right in the proverbial mouth. Satsuki must have grown impatient at her gaping and stooped to pick up the keys herself, jamming it into the lock on her first attempt and pushing open the door. The small, dingy apartment that opened out before them made Ryuko feel a little self-conscious before she led them inside.

"How… quaint," Satsuki commented, eyes fixed on the grimy gaming controller resting on the coffee table, choosing not to lean back against the sofa where Ryuko had unceremoniously dumped her. She had to admit the apartment was everything she expected it to be. She shrugged off her stained jacket, folding it and setting it aside.

Ryuko glared at her impromptu guest. "Not all of us have family money to fall back on." Something in Satsuki's professional demeanor slipped. Ryuko saw it in the tension that pulled her shoulders back and in the slight twitch of an eye.

"I never received anything from my mother," Satsuki said coldly. "I built my own way up." Her eyes flickered to the worker, her fingers plucking at the fabric of her trousers.

"Alright, Eyebrows," Ryuko dismissed from the kitchen, focusing on making tea. "I didn't ask for your life story."

Satsuki almost smiled, glad for the respite. 'It seems you aren't a complete fool when it comes to human emotions.'

Ryuko avoided her gaze as she handed her the tea. She produced a damp cloth, dabbing at the dried sauce on Satsuki's cheek before she could stop herself. "D-Done," she stammered out, throwing the cloth on the table and more than aware of the fact both of them were blushing. "So are we gonna skip the niceties and talk about how screwed I am or do you wanna make me suffer?"

"I believe I'm the one suffering from your tantrum," Satsuki stated calmly, taking a sip from the weak tea.

Ryuko grimaced, sitting cross-legged against the wall opposite the other woman. "Sorry," she grounded out, clearly unaccustomed to apologising. She gestured vaguely at Satsuki's leg. "How is it? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Satsuki stretched the limb in demonstration, only wincing a little. Much of the pain had eased. "I've had worse. And no, though you might when Gamagori notices I am missing. I'm not sure why you brought me here."

Ryuko tipped her head back, hitting it repeatedly against the wall. She let out a mirthless chuckle. "I'm just trying to save my ass. Guess I deserve whatever I get, huh? It's my job to do whatever you want and I didn't."

The manager paused, eyebrows furrowed. Seeing Ryuko so full of defeat was unnerving. "I… suppose I haven't been the easiest person to work with." Simply getting the words out required much effort.

"Talk about an understatement," Ryuko commented, grinning. Satsuki narrowed her eyes in return, daring the worker to continue. She didn't, but Satsuki knew there were many nasty examples she could draw upon.

Satsuki opened her mouth to argue that Ryuko could have complained at any time but her breath caught in her throat. She knew that it would have no conviction behind it. It was her alone that had pushed the worker to her limits. She looked away, finding the corner of the threadbare rug much more interesting. "I apologise. I have been unprofessional and let my personal feelings cloud my judgement."

Ryuko's face scrunched in confusion, though if the twisting in her gut and the racing of her heart was any indicator, she had a pretty good idea of where this was going. "Feelings?" She parroted.

Satsuki looked distinctly uncomfortable, her deep frown and clenched jaw juxtapositioned with the reddening of her face, a final attempt to appear professional. "I have grown quite fond of you, Matoi."

Ryuko stared at her dumbly. She blinked. "What?" Expecting the words and then hearing them aloud were two completely separate things.

"Are you an idiot?" Satsuki asked, scowling. When Ryuko did not respond she continued, changing the topic. "Don't worry about your job, I will handle everything to go on as normal."

"I don't want my job back, Kiryuin," Ryuko stated after what seemed like hours. Satsuki's heart lurched. Losing Ryuko had never seemed like a possibility. She nodded, forcing her professional mask back into place. She stood to leave, the throbbing in her knee intensifying. Ryuko pushed herself up from the floor, standing a little closer than Satsuki expected.

"Of course. I understand. Please hand in your notice-"

"Kissing my manager just wouldn't sit right with me, you know?" Ryuko interrupted with a smirk despite the blush that coloured her ears. Satsuki barely had time to register the hand that grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to duck her head. They kissed, and it was every bit as awkward but endearing as Satsuki imagined it would be.

Breaking apart when Ryuko's stomach growled insistently, Satsuki showed a rare smile. "Let me take you out for breakfast."

"Sure thing, as long as you're paying. Call off your guard dog too or he'll try to eat our food off the table," Ryuko remarked, revelling in the disapproving look Satsuki shot her way. Nevertheless, Ryuko watched as she scrolled down to Gamagori's contact in her phone, thumb rapidly typing out a message. She also called both of them in sick. Five minutes later saw Ryuko changed out of her uniform, ready to leave the apartment.

"Matoi… one last thing," Satsuki said, stained jacket slung over her shoulder.

Ryuko raised an eyebrow in question. The manager looked away, embarrassed.

"Are my eyebrows really so big?"

The sound of Ryuko's laughter was no help whatsoever.

End.