It was the day Mii always dreaded. She hated sitting here in her office, being at her job. What crazy part of her made her come to work today? She should have called in sick and have a carefree day, just for once. But nooooo, some part of her made her get out of bed, and drive her black Toyota to her office, just like always. But it was not because she hated her job – or at least, not all the time. For the most part, Mii was pretty satisfied with her job. She earned a comfortable income, and editing other people's work came to her naturally.
But just like everybody else, Mii had both good days and bad days. Unfortunately everyday dealing with Shigure Sohma is a bad day. If asked to say one thing about Shigure Sohma, she would probably say a whole long speech about everything he had done to drive her up the wall. She blames the way she is now on Shigure Sohma. But to keep it simple, Shigure is a highly irresponsible novelist. Shigure isn't a bad writer. In fact, Mii would even consider him one of the best novelists she's ever met, if she doesn't try to hang herself at the first mention of his name, that is. And even if that was the problem, that'd be easy for Mii to deal with. After all, she's paid for correcting other's writing.
It was something far simpler about Shigure that bothered her. He had a bad habit, that made him worse than almost any other novelist in the world. Shigure never turned in his manuscript on the deadlines.
Mii was pretty sure that telling irresponsible writers – repeatedly, might she add – to turn in their manuscript on time was not part of the job description.
Mii gets suicidal just thinking about it. She put on her most professional looking suit from her office's closet, determined to keep her cool, just once for today. Not for that stupid, irresponsible sensei, but for herself. She was going to be the cool, professional editor who can handle anything including that dreadful man. Just thinking about you-know-who was bad enough for her. Mii felt the tears coming up and wanted desperately to throw something at herself, like a pen, or an encyclopedia… or a chair.
"Okay, come on, be cool. Stay still. Maybe Shigure will actually turn in his manuscript on time." The good Mii tried to convince herself.
"SHIGURE SOHMA TURNING IN HIS MANUSCRIPT ON TIME? IMPOSSIBLE!" The bad Mii and maybe the more practical side shouted. She felt like jumping from her office, which was on the fourth floor, to the streets below her.
But the good Mii restrained herself. The good Mii, robotically drove herself onto the elevator, and then forced herself to sit on the driver's side of her black Toyota. But the good Mii was also losing grip on herself. As soon closed the door behind her, the bad Mii finally kicked in.
The bad Mii screamed bloody murder. She kicked the car door open with her 1 inch heel and ran out into the intersection. The bad Mii waved her hand over her head and jumped up and down, screaming, "HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!"
Mii was really losing it. She jumped up and down non stop even as a red car swerved to a stop in front of her, and large missed her feet by a hair. It seemed to the bystanders that she did this everyday as she never even flinched as all the commotion occurred around her. She did not stop her frantic jumping-jacks even as a barf green car hit her. Mii hit the ground- hard. She observed the traffic jam that she had caused. Everything seemed wavy.
"Whoa! A rainbow! " Mii whispered to herself and pointed upwards and the many different colored cars that she had managed to damage. But the rainbow as gone in a flash and all was dark…
Meanwhile back at the office…
Ring! Ring!
"I'm sorry I can not come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep!"
Beeeeeeeeeep!
"Oh hello, dear Mii! Guess who? That's right! It's your lovely sensei Shigure Sohma! Anyways, as an early birthday present, I decided to finish my manuscript on time today! Yes, I know what you are thinking, 'Shigure Sohma actually finished his manuscript on time?' Well don't worry dear Mii, because it's true! We were just waiting for you at our humble abode. I don't blame you for not making it though, because who would want to travel with a crazy lady outside singing, 'Hit me baby one more time?' I heard she's been hospitalized. By the way, I couldn't help noticing that the accident took place at the intersection near your office. Say you wouldn't happen to know this crazy lady, would you? Hey, isn't that a great idea for a novel, though? Well, if you have time, could you pop up in my humble abode to pick up the manuscript? Remember, our home is your home!"