Everyone in the building at one time or another had witnessed Shuichi whirl through the hallways like a cyclone, dressed as a dog, a banana, a giant battery or a used tampon, depending on his mood and the situation. Before that, it was Ryuichi doing the same damn thing. There was no explaining musical genius, but those oddball creative types, although annoying and destructive, paid the bills around here and kept everyone employed. Then too, the boss had no problem with the fools, so it wouldn't do for the secretaries, sound technicians and other personnel to complain. You just did your job and kept quiet, and hoped nothing particularly destructive happened to your own paperwork or equipment. No one, therefore, seemed to notice or care when Shuichi thundered through the building up to the top floor and flung the door wide upon landing at the president's office.
"Tohma!"
Seguchi spun around in his chair, revealing he was on the phone. The look on his face impelled Shuichi to draw back with a gasp before sliding into the arm chair in front of the desk.
"Thank you, Jōji-san, but if you're not going to give me satisfaction, I'll take care of this little matter another way. Have a good afternoon."
Tohma hung up the phone, and Shuichi stared dazedly a moment before holding the magazine with one hand and pointing to the offensive blurb with the other.
"Yes, I saw it," Tohma replied, holding up his own copy folded to the same page. "That was Jōji-san in our legal department I was just speaking with. I asked him if we had grounds to sue PopBeat for printing such lies. Unfortunately, his response was that it would most likely result in a Streisand effect and bite us on the ass."
Shuichi drew his knees under his chin, and bit his nails. "Blowback's a bitch."
"Yes."
"Then what do we do about it? We can't just let them say whatever they want. Should I move out of the house? I don't want to leave! I hate living alone. It's so...lonely. But I don't want to give them ammunition either. What should I do?" Shu fidgeted in his chair as he pondered the prospect of living in an apartment all by himself.
Tohma rose from his seat and wandered over to the windows. Was anyone watching them right now? With spy cameras and smartphones today, he wouldn't be surprised if movies of this very conversation turned up on YouTube. Well, it took a thief to catch a thief, they say. Perhaps he should ask K to spy on the spies and find out who was behind it. Ask K?
Ask K.
Maybe that was a good place to start—with the members of ASK. If they were innocent, it would at least eliminate them as suspects. He turned to Shuichi with a smile. "No need to worry, Shindo-san. I believe I know who's behind this spiteful little jealous tantrum. If he discovered you and I were secretly married in Vegas less than a week ago he'd probably wet his pants, but there's little chance of that."
Shuichi jumped out of his chair, but Tohma gestured for him to calm down and be silent. Eventually Shuichi took the hint that there might be a wiretap or microphone in the office, and resumed his seat. "But Tohma, we ought to do something."
"We will. But for now let's not let someone else dictate our behavior. We'll conduct ourselves as we normally would." He checked his watch. "Oh, look at the time. We're already late for the orgy with the emperor. Please get Mr. K and meet me at the car. I'll drive us to the palace today. He's driven every day this week, and he's a terrible driver."
Shuichi's jaw dropped and he'd ruin the whole performance if he didn't leave immediately, but it was so damn funny. Tohma's seriousness only made it worse. Hopping off his chair, Shuichi snapped off a smart salute. "Okay, lover! Like I said at the chapel, I love you more than anything and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth!"
He reached for the doorknob, when it suddenly flew open without his assistance, and the last person he expected steamed into the room.
"Mika-san."