Tatsumi closed the door to the departmental office behind him, sighing relief. It had been a strange day. After more than fifty years of celibacy, he'd been propositioned by every single one of his co-workers, not to mention itinerant passersby from various periods of his life. He'd wound up in romantic entanglements with Tsuzuki, Konoe, Watari, Terazuma, Tsuzuki's puppy form, Maria Wong, Muraki, Watari's owl 003, Oriya, Wakaba dressed as Konoe, transformed Terazuma, one of the Gushoshin brothers, he could never tell which, Hisoka, and Yuma and Saya's new knitted sock puppets, ensoulled by Watari. All without leaving the office.
He was tired and sore, and there were beak marks on his ass. He wasn't sure whose.
The worst part of it was that the more promising ones all seemed to expect him to be a perfect gentleman and never speak of it again, and the less promising all wanted to move in with him. He didn't know what could have happened to turn this day into a nightmare.
As Tatsumi rested against the door, the wall opposite flickered slightly. Tatsumi blinked. Approaching the wall, he tested its solidity with the edge of a shadow, only to see it wink out. In its place Tatsumi could see, superimposed, dozens of computer monitors and notebooks, text spinning out as he watched. Curious, he looked closer.
Every page and monitor contained a scene of his love life. Scandalized and incensed, Tatsumi dispersed his shadows across the barrier, destroying each romantic incarnation.
The next moment, he fell forward slightly, catching himself as Watari exited the office door.
"Hey, there you are." Watari smiled nervously. He looked at where the wall had been. "Oh, one of those."
"You've seen this before? What is it?"
"Fourth wall discontinuity. Usually only happens when I blow up the lab several times in one day. I've tried sending bots in to explore—small things can cross the barrier—but it's not a very interesting subreality."
"Do they go away?" Tatsumi asked, worried about the expenses required to contain the phenomenon, should it prove permanent.
"They usually close when I toss a sonic grenade in there." He grimaced slightly, pulling said object out of an inner pocket to show to Tatsumi.
Tatsumi took it, looking it over. It seemed a simple enough device: pull tab, push button, toss, run. It even said carefully on the side, "TWENTY SECONDS". Without looking up, he asked, "Are they ever...about you?"
"Oh yes. But fewer and fewer lately." Watari grinned, not entirely pleasantly. "Listen, you've had a rough day, right? Would you like to come by the lab? I have coffee. And ointment." He started backing away.
"That would be--"
"And next time, you should bend me over a desk," he tossed lightly over his shoulder, retreating to the lab.
Next time? Tatsumi perked. "I'll be there shortly."
Pushing up his glasses, he turned and...brb, something weird just landed in my lap...