Title: Damn Executives
Parts: Chapter 1
Written by: Michibikare
E-mail: Michibikare@aol.com
URL: http://www.virtue.nu/ssu/index.html
Usagi was looking over the reports from the previous
night. This was no mistake—someone had done a terrible job of
supervising the employee who wrote the report, and Usagi
wasn't going to let them slip by.
The supervisor was none other than Rei Hino, a new
transfer from Sapporo in northern Japan. The headquarters in
Sapporo must have forgotten Usagi's high standards in Tokyo to
produce such a woman.
Usagi's company was called Tsukino Arts, and did it's
best to turn out the best artists in the world—whether they be
performing or not. Usagi often wondered why she switched the
headquarters from San Francisco to Tokyo—maybe it was
because, Japan needed more of creative side to it, rather than
industry. She found it to be a perfect choice, for her business
was internationally growing.
She was sitting in her very large and elaborate office at
nine o'clock in the morning looking over the report done by Ami
Mizuno. Usagi leaned over and pressed the intercom button that
connected her with her secretary.
"I want Miss Rei Hino in my office a soon a possible."
She had a taste of a British accent she inherited from her father—
and from spending her childhood years in Manchester and London.
There was a pause before the secretary responded. "I'm
sorry Miss Tsukino, but I checked her schedule for today, and
she's in a staff meeting at the moment. It says she'll be till nine
forty-five."
"Fine." Usagi was very unpleased of this news. It looked
like this day was going to become very upsetting for her. "One more
thing, Ms. Tagachi—please get me my one thirty appointment on
the phone."
"Of course, Miss Tsukino." The intercom clicked off.
'Damn meetings.' Usagi thought bitterly. 'They always pop
up at the wrong times.'
She pulled out her daily record book and looked up her
one thirty appointment. It was an American who was interested in
the job opening as vice president of the company. After turning down
at least fifteen people, she hoped this would person she was looking
for.
Americans—always cocky and obnoxious. They snub their
noses at the fact that they are one of most economically powerful
in the world. Usagi snitched to herself. Not having any American roots
in her, she could afford to make such insults.
With a slight grunt, she tossed the record book back into
the drawer and slammed it shut. "Ms. Tagachi, I want Rei in my office
now—have someone pull her out of the meeting." She was furious.
All Usagi wanted to do was to punch someone in the jaw, and at the
moment, it happened to be Rei Hino.
A quivering voice responded. "Alright Miss Tsukino, but
before I do, there's someone in the waiting room to see you."
"Who the hell is it?"
"He said his name was Mamoru Chiba, and when I check my
files, he's your one thirty."
"But it's only nine, damn it! Why is he five hours early?"
"He didn't say, Miss."
'Oh fuck it.' She was glaring out into space.
"I only want to see Hino. Tell him he can wait for five hours,
until I'm ready to see him." Usagi clicked off the intercom, and walked
over to one of her many bookcases. Looking for something particular,
she ran her fingers across the leather covers of the books. A bright
orange one got her attention. 'The Meaning of Life.' A catchy title, but
not what I want. Peering down a bit more, Usagi found it: 'How to
Succeed in Business, without Really Trying.' It was a book her father
had given her before he died some three years ago. From an old film,
the book itself was filled with stories and jokes on the business world
in present.
Taking it to her overstuffed tea-green sofa, Usagi plopped
down and flipped about halfway through the book. She landed on
chapter ten, which was appropriately titled: 'Jerks and how to Deal
with Them.'
Just what I need—this chapter, and a steaming mug of
coffee. Usagi wasn't the least bit interested in walking back to her
desk, so she resulted to the "other" way to get her secretary—yelling.
"Tagachi! Get in here, pronto!" That yell was harder on her
voice than she anticipated.
In a flash, Ms. Tagachi was standing before Miss Tsukino,
hands behind her back as if a naval officer awaiting orders.
"You can take your break, after you get me a Java." Today,
she seemed to be short on manners.
Tagachi gave a quick nod and left, quietly closing the door
after her. She didn't know why she put up with such a ruthless
employer. Her payroll certainly couldn't, and would never be the reason.
It was more of a passion—hoping that one day she could sit at a desk
with a really gorgeous boss was most likely the reason. If she could
only get someone else to sit at the desk and give orders—someone
like that man in the waiting room, that, she reasoned, would be
paradise.
She returned with a large ceramic mug filled with French
vanilla for Miss Tsukino, and returned to her meager desk. From
the night before, Usagi had left over twenty memos that needed to
be sent out the service directors, and she had only sent three. "I
hate my job." She declared as she slumped down into her wooden
chair. "I hate my boss, I hate this company—and I hate all those
dancers who come complaining to me about seeing Tsukino."
She pushed the memos out of her way, and heaved her
1964 typewriter onto her desk. She carefully inserted the a blank
sheet of paper and began to type. In only fifteen minutes, she was
finished. Pulling out her product, she reviewed it for mistakes. All in
all, it turned out nothing less than perfect:
Miss Usagi Tsukino:
I, Mika Tagachi, will resign on the date three weeks
from tomorrow. Through my ten years at Tsukino Arts, I feel that I
am ready to open a new chapter in my life—one which dose not
involve Tsukino Arts. Please understand that I am very grateful for
all the generosity and benefits provided by the company. By no
means does this concern my feelings towards individuals, or to the
company itself.
Thank you,
Ms. Mika Tagachi
Though the bulk of the letter was a complete lie, it was
finished, and ready to be put on Tsukino's desk at the end of the
day.
Mika looked over at the man in the waiting room. Time
to strike up a conversation. She adjusted her turtle framed glasses
and smiled at him. "You're here awfully early."
He just nodded, apparently not interested in small talk.
"I have to warn you about her…" Mika pointed to Usagi's
closed office door.
"Oh?" The man moved to a closer seat.
Mika nodded. "You might want to turn back now—" She
looked at her computer to see what his name was. "Mr. Chiba."
He gave a slight chuckle. "Dr. Chiba. I didn't spend six
years in grad school to just get a title."
"Really?"
"Yes. I was a college physics teacher in the states a
while back."
"What got you into performing arts then?"
"Not just performing arts, the writing actually. I looked into
it when I was around fifteen. Just kind of stuck with me all these
years I suppose."
"And now you're going into business?"
"Well, my grandfather owned a chain of hotels—that's what
got me into business, you might say. And," he looked through his
briefcase. "I met Usagi a few years ago at an arts convention in Hong
Kong."
"I'm sure she was a lot nicer then—before she owned the
company."
"What do you mean?"
The intercom clicked on. "Tagachi! Where is that
appointment for one-thirty? I changed my mind. I'll see him now!"
Tsukino said in a bitter tone.
"Better go in." Mika nodded to him. "Good luck with God
in there."
Mamoru smirked. "Thanks." He said as he casually slid
his hand over the door knob easing the door open to present
himself. Showing not the slightest bit of fear, he strolled into the
office as if he and Miss Tsukino had been old high school
sweethearts.
Usagi was scratching some notes down on a pad—as
if not noticing he was there. She pulled a strand of blonde hair
behind her ears as she adjusted her black-rimmed glasses.
Finally, she put down her pen and took the glasses off, seeing
what man dared to face her in her office—alone.
"You must be one of the applicants." She said in a
semi-professional tone. Trying to make him as uncomfortable as
possible, she didn't offer him a seat, let alone ask for his name.
"Just as cold as I remembered." Mamoru dropped his
black leather brief case on the floor, and reclined in a floral chair.
Usagi's back was turned to him as she was staring out
the window, trying to recall that face he looked at her with. She
gave him a blind glare after his unmistakable comment. "Let's see
your resume," She walked over to her desk and took a sip of her
black coffee.
Being just as harsh as she, he tossed a stapled pack
over to her. "Four years in the making." He lifted a brow as he
rudely crossed his feet and rested them on the front of her desk.
Replacing the glasses, Usagi briefly looked over the
papers till she saw his name. "Mamoru Chiba—Hong Kong '98?"
She walked over to him. "How could anyone forget that 'baby-face'
of yours?" She pinched his chin, mimicking a grandmother. "What
were you doing at that convention? You were a physics teacher,
not a actor."
"True, but my grandfather was a free-lance writer, before he
went commercial and started a hotel chain. The bug bit me ten
years ago." He pointed out in his resume. "And see? I've done some
writing of my own."
"Just because you're a writer, and your grandfather a
businessman, doesn't qualify you for a vice-president position in my
company. I want your skills not a dead man's." Usagi pushed his
resume back to him in disgust. "Why even bother if you know that
you can't get this position? Why would I be stupid enough to hire a
former physics teacher to a performing arts company? If you haven't
noticed by now, our mission here is to turn out artists, not chemists."
"And if you read the third page of my resume, you'd see
exactly what kind of physics I taught."
"There's only one type of physics—physics!"
"No, I taught anatomy to physics majors, and physics to
med. students."
"Why should anatomy matter, I don't see that you're an
MD—or have a degree in business. You've told me nothing that
convinces me to hire you, and with the looks of that resume, Mr.
Chiba, you'd be lucky to get a job flipping burgers!"
"Miss Tsukino," He said meeting her eyes and leaning into
her. "If you don't hire me, your company will loose more that it can
gain."
"I see no reason on how you could change that."
"Hire me and you will."
"I don't trust promises—or you."
"Then maybe," He glared at her. "you'll trust this." He
gripped her head and pulled it into a passionate kiss, making her
want to screech out in pain, but at the same time, love him back.
Parts: Chapter 1
Written by: Michibikare
E-mail: Michibikare@aol.com
URL: http://www.virtue.nu/ssu/index.html
Usagi was looking over the reports from the previous
night. This was no mistake—someone had done a terrible job of
supervising the employee who wrote the report, and Usagi
wasn't going to let them slip by.
The supervisor was none other than Rei Hino, a new
transfer from Sapporo in northern Japan. The headquarters in
Sapporo must have forgotten Usagi's high standards in Tokyo to
produce such a woman.
Usagi's company was called Tsukino Arts, and did it's
best to turn out the best artists in the world—whether they be
performing or not. Usagi often wondered why she switched the
headquarters from San Francisco to Tokyo—maybe it was
because, Japan needed more of creative side to it, rather than
industry. She found it to be a perfect choice, for her business
was internationally growing.
She was sitting in her very large and elaborate office at
nine o'clock in the morning looking over the report done by Ami
Mizuno. Usagi leaned over and pressed the intercom button that
connected her with her secretary.
"I want Miss Rei Hino in my office a soon a possible."
She had a taste of a British accent she inherited from her father—
and from spending her childhood years in Manchester and London.
There was a pause before the secretary responded. "I'm
sorry Miss Tsukino, but I checked her schedule for today, and
she's in a staff meeting at the moment. It says she'll be till nine
forty-five."
"Fine." Usagi was very unpleased of this news. It looked
like this day was going to become very upsetting for her. "One more
thing, Ms. Tagachi—please get me my one thirty appointment on
the phone."
"Of course, Miss Tsukino." The intercom clicked off.
'Damn meetings.' Usagi thought bitterly. 'They always pop
up at the wrong times.'
She pulled out her daily record book and looked up her
one thirty appointment. It was an American who was interested in
the job opening as vice president of the company. After turning down
at least fifteen people, she hoped this would person she was looking
for.
Americans—always cocky and obnoxious. They snub their
noses at the fact that they are one of most economically powerful
in the world. Usagi snitched to herself. Not having any American roots
in her, she could afford to make such insults.
With a slight grunt, she tossed the record book back into
the drawer and slammed it shut. "Ms. Tagachi, I want Rei in my office
now—have someone pull her out of the meeting." She was furious.
All Usagi wanted to do was to punch someone in the jaw, and at the
moment, it happened to be Rei Hino.
A quivering voice responded. "Alright Miss Tsukino, but
before I do, there's someone in the waiting room to see you."
"Who the hell is it?"
"He said his name was Mamoru Chiba, and when I check my
files, he's your one thirty."
"But it's only nine, damn it! Why is he five hours early?"
"He didn't say, Miss."
'Oh fuck it.' She was glaring out into space.
"I only want to see Hino. Tell him he can wait for five hours,
until I'm ready to see him." Usagi clicked off the intercom, and walked
over to one of her many bookcases. Looking for something particular,
she ran her fingers across the leather covers of the books. A bright
orange one got her attention. 'The Meaning of Life.' A catchy title, but
not what I want. Peering down a bit more, Usagi found it: 'How to
Succeed in Business, without Really Trying.' It was a book her father
had given her before he died some three years ago. From an old film,
the book itself was filled with stories and jokes on the business world
in present.
Taking it to her overstuffed tea-green sofa, Usagi plopped
down and flipped about halfway through the book. She landed on
chapter ten, which was appropriately titled: 'Jerks and how to Deal
with Them.'
Just what I need—this chapter, and a steaming mug of
coffee. Usagi wasn't the least bit interested in walking back to her
desk, so she resulted to the "other" way to get her secretary—yelling.
"Tagachi! Get in here, pronto!" That yell was harder on her
voice than she anticipated.
In a flash, Ms. Tagachi was standing before Miss Tsukino,
hands behind her back as if a naval officer awaiting orders.
"You can take your break, after you get me a Java." Today,
she seemed to be short on manners.
Tagachi gave a quick nod and left, quietly closing the door
after her. She didn't know why she put up with such a ruthless
employer. Her payroll certainly couldn't, and would never be the reason.
It was more of a passion—hoping that one day she could sit at a desk
with a really gorgeous boss was most likely the reason. If she could
only get someone else to sit at the desk and give orders—someone
like that man in the waiting room, that, she reasoned, would be
paradise.
She returned with a large ceramic mug filled with French
vanilla for Miss Tsukino, and returned to her meager desk. From
the night before, Usagi had left over twenty memos that needed to
be sent out the service directors, and she had only sent three. "I
hate my job." She declared as she slumped down into her wooden
chair. "I hate my boss, I hate this company—and I hate all those
dancers who come complaining to me about seeing Tsukino."
She pushed the memos out of her way, and heaved her
1964 typewriter onto her desk. She carefully inserted the a blank
sheet of paper and began to type. In only fifteen minutes, she was
finished. Pulling out her product, she reviewed it for mistakes. All in
all, it turned out nothing less than perfect:
Miss Usagi Tsukino:
I, Mika Tagachi, will resign on the date three weeks
from tomorrow. Through my ten years at Tsukino Arts, I feel that I
am ready to open a new chapter in my life—one which dose not
involve Tsukino Arts. Please understand that I am very grateful for
all the generosity and benefits provided by the company. By no
means does this concern my feelings towards individuals, or to the
company itself.
Thank you,
Ms. Mika Tagachi
Though the bulk of the letter was a complete lie, it was
finished, and ready to be put on Tsukino's desk at the end of the
day.
Mika looked over at the man in the waiting room. Time
to strike up a conversation. She adjusted her turtle framed glasses
and smiled at him. "You're here awfully early."
He just nodded, apparently not interested in small talk.
"I have to warn you about her…" Mika pointed to Usagi's
closed office door.
"Oh?" The man moved to a closer seat.
Mika nodded. "You might want to turn back now—" She
looked at her computer to see what his name was. "Mr. Chiba."
He gave a slight chuckle. "Dr. Chiba. I didn't spend six
years in grad school to just get a title."
"Really?"
"Yes. I was a college physics teacher in the states a
while back."
"What got you into performing arts then?"
"Not just performing arts, the writing actually. I looked into
it when I was around fifteen. Just kind of stuck with me all these
years I suppose."
"And now you're going into business?"
"Well, my grandfather owned a chain of hotels—that's what
got me into business, you might say. And," he looked through his
briefcase. "I met Usagi a few years ago at an arts convention in Hong
Kong."
"I'm sure she was a lot nicer then—before she owned the
company."
"What do you mean?"
The intercom clicked on. "Tagachi! Where is that
appointment for one-thirty? I changed my mind. I'll see him now!"
Tsukino said in a bitter tone.
"Better go in." Mika nodded to him. "Good luck with God
in there."
Mamoru smirked. "Thanks." He said as he casually slid
his hand over the door knob easing the door open to present
himself. Showing not the slightest bit of fear, he strolled into the
office as if he and Miss Tsukino had been old high school
sweethearts.
Usagi was scratching some notes down on a pad—as
if not noticing he was there. She pulled a strand of blonde hair
behind her ears as she adjusted her black-rimmed glasses.
Finally, she put down her pen and took the glasses off, seeing
what man dared to face her in her office—alone.
"You must be one of the applicants." She said in a
semi-professional tone. Trying to make him as uncomfortable as
possible, she didn't offer him a seat, let alone ask for his name.
"Just as cold as I remembered." Mamoru dropped his
black leather brief case on the floor, and reclined in a floral chair.
Usagi's back was turned to him as she was staring out
the window, trying to recall that face he looked at her with. She
gave him a blind glare after his unmistakable comment. "Let's see
your resume," She walked over to her desk and took a sip of her
black coffee.
Being just as harsh as she, he tossed a stapled pack
over to her. "Four years in the making." He lifted a brow as he
rudely crossed his feet and rested them on the front of her desk.
Replacing the glasses, Usagi briefly looked over the
papers till she saw his name. "Mamoru Chiba—Hong Kong '98?"
She walked over to him. "How could anyone forget that 'baby-face'
of yours?" She pinched his chin, mimicking a grandmother. "What
were you doing at that convention? You were a physics teacher,
not a actor."
"True, but my grandfather was a free-lance writer, before he
went commercial and started a hotel chain. The bug bit me ten
years ago." He pointed out in his resume. "And see? I've done some
writing of my own."
"Just because you're a writer, and your grandfather a
businessman, doesn't qualify you for a vice-president position in my
company. I want your skills not a dead man's." Usagi pushed his
resume back to him in disgust. "Why even bother if you know that
you can't get this position? Why would I be stupid enough to hire a
former physics teacher to a performing arts company? If you haven't
noticed by now, our mission here is to turn out artists, not chemists."
"And if you read the third page of my resume, you'd see
exactly what kind of physics I taught."
"There's only one type of physics—physics!"
"No, I taught anatomy to physics majors, and physics to
med. students."
"Why should anatomy matter, I don't see that you're an
MD—or have a degree in business. You've told me nothing that
convinces me to hire you, and with the looks of that resume, Mr.
Chiba, you'd be lucky to get a job flipping burgers!"
"Miss Tsukino," He said meeting her eyes and leaning into
her. "If you don't hire me, your company will loose more that it can
gain."
"I see no reason on how you could change that."
"Hire me and you will."
"I don't trust promises—or you."
"Then maybe," He glared at her. "you'll trust this." He
gripped her head and pulled it into a passionate kiss, making her
want to screech out in pain, but at the same time, love him back.