Empire Ants

02: "Sailing Out the Doldrums of the Week"

Ms. Sanban pulled her long, inky hair back into a tight bun, scrutinizing her reflection in the bathroom mirror for any stray strands of hair in her otherwise immaculate hairdo. She had worn her hair exactly like this every day since she had been promoted to president of the Rainbow Monkey Corporation three years ago. If her hair was out of place, then who would possibly take her seriously? Certainly not the thousands of employees she supervised or the business representatives she dealt with daily. It was the same way her distant mother used to style her hair, back when they still spoke to one another. Before she could finish that thought, she shook it from her mind and turned the faucet on, splashing her face with cold, refreshing water. Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, she retrieved some cover-up from a drawer in her cabinet and applied it accordingly. It was only five in the morning, with the stars and the moon still peering at her through her window, but instead of going back to sleep, she sleepily made her way to the kitchen to start brewing a pot of coffee. She watched as the brown liquid seeped into the pot, bubbling due to the heated pad underneath it. When she was ten, she hated the stuff – the smell, the taste, even the way it looked – but now she couldn't get enough of it, especially on early mornings like this one. Otherwise she was likely to fall asleep on her commute to work.

It had been a while since she had had a day off. She hadn't really thought about it until now, but when was the last day she had any time to collect her thoughts and relax? Not that she minded; work meant money, and she was already collecting a huge sum in her banking account. Plus, you couldn't expect a company to run very smoothly if the president was always taking days off. No, she definitely enjoyed working all the time. They had a word for that, but it momentarily slipped her mind.

Think tha word yer lookin' for's workaholic.

Her amethyst eyes shut calmly as the familiar voice that acted as her conscience spoke up in the back of her mind. It had been so long since she had heard his voice too. Not that she particularly enjoyed it most of the time. He was always critical of her, and bitterly sarcastic.

"No…" She whispered out loud to nobody, leaning back in her chair.

Fine. Then yer crazeh.

She blinked widely, letting her chair return all four legs to the floor. Was she? Ms. Sanban felt at the swollen area under her eyes gently with her fingertips, her mouth agape in wonder. Do normal people lose this much sleep?

"I'm not crazy," She stated to the empty kitchen. The silence the followed was almost deafening. He didn't answer, much to her distress. "I'm not!"

Roight. Then why're ya hearin' voices?

The tired twenty four year-old crossed the kitchen and began to make her coffee, keeping her mind fixated on the task.

You drink yer coffee black? Tha's jus' gross.

"Shuddup!" She warned the shadows in her hallway. "Nobody asked you!"

A few tears slipped quietly down her face and she paused, unsure of what to do. Actual tears were falling out of her eyes? Oh no, Ms. Sanban did not cry. She could not afford to show any emotion. Quickly, she rubbed her sleeve across her face, eager to erase the evidence of a weakness in her defenses before her conscience noticed. The voice had fallen quiet, giving her mind some peace. She rubbed her temples swiftly, attempting to drive away the already forming migraine. Maybe her psychologist was right in the assumption that she was missing something in her life, and was working so much to compensate for it. She sighed. In her mind, she could picture the owner of the voice of her conscience, pumping his fist into the air silently as she made this revelation.

She finished her coffee in two giant gulps and placed the mug in the sink, before walking to her bedroom. Her clothes for the day were folded neatly at the foot of her bed, dull, corporate business wear. She tossed the outfit offhandedly onto the floor behind her and found her abandoned phone, buried in the folds of her comforter. She sat on the edge of her mattress. Dialing the familiar number, she held the phone to her ear as it rang – once, twice. Three times, until the manicured voice of her secretary answered. It was astonishing, but she always seemed to get there before her.

"Rainbow Monkey Corporate Offices, President Sanban's office," She rehearsed, her high fructose tone purring sweetly into the receiver. "Who may I ask is calling?"

"It's me. Listen, I'm going to request that I have the day off due to personal illness," She played with the carpet beneath her toes.

"What?" The voice on the other end sounded shocked.

"You heard me, I'm calling in sick!"

"But, Ms. Sanban, yo-" She flipped the phone shut mid-sentence and laid down, the conscience in her head smiling at her proudly.

"You happy now?" She asked her empty apartment, suddenly exhausted and already drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, it was ten o'clock in morning. The phone was still gripped loosely in her hand. She took notice that she had six missed calls, all from her secretary, no doubt trying to beg her to come into work. She shrugged and sat up; she had other plans for today. Standing shakily, she walked towards the bathroom to change out of her pajamas. The mirror showed her that her nap had mussed her hair; long strands of black framed her face beautifully. The bags under her eyes were still there, though less noticeable as they had been before. She appeared to be glowing as she changed and returned to her bedroom to sift through her nightstand purposefully. Finally, she held up a tiny book with hope. Flipping through the pages of her address book, she grabbed her phone again and began to dial a number written on a napkin that was folded in between the pages.

It was ringing.

And she couldn't be any more nervous.

Finally, a click made her jump, and a thick accent greeted her ears. "Yeh?"

She was so nervous that she couldn't move her lips to speak, and she didn't know what she would say if she could speak.

"Hello?" His voice sounded irritated now; she figured she'd better say something before he hung up.

"Yeah, hello?"

"Who's this?" He inquired, suddenly sounding interested.

"It's Kuki," She replied softly.

And for the first time in years, she smiled.

A/N: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door or Gorillaz. Alright, so, this is pretty pointless and rushed and crappy, but meh, I figured I'd give it a shot anyway. I hope she isn't too out of character; I was basing her off of her future self in Operation: INTERVIEWS, although this takes place before that obviously. So, I'm trying something different here; I thought it would be interesting to try to write a one-shot for each line in one single song. Challenging - yes, but interesting. Each chapter will be inspired by a line from the fantastic Gorillaz song Empire Ants, and I highly suggest giving this tune a listen. But each one-shot may or may not include the same characters, and they may or may not be occur in the same plot line – I haven't decided yet. I would also like to point out that since 2D's wonderful singing is kinda mumbled at times, and the lyrics aren't always clear, I'm going with what I think the correct lyrics are or whatever inspires my muse the most, heheh. Anyways, review and tell me if you likey!

Quick question: did you know that Kuki's name means 'air' in Japanese?