A/N: As you may be able to tell, Kotoko is a bit more audacious than the one from the original series. But I've always wanted her to stand up for herself more, hence my writing her this way.
But of course, Kotoko wouldn't be Kotoko without her Kotoko-isms, so tune into the next chapter to see what happens next!
CHAPTER 3: IN WHICH BUTTONS ARE PRESSED
Something didn't feel right.
Keita clicked through the files on his desktop aimlessly, carefully considering the events of yesterday and today.
Kotoko had left the staff dinner yesterday without a word to anyone. And she had gotten up approximately around the same time that Director Irie had left to go to the bathroom.
Then, she hadn't picked up her phone or responded to his texts all night. And when he finally heard back from her—via text—it'd been a succinct one about how she'd fill him in tomorrow.
Well, today was "tomorrow," and he still hadn't gotten any answers.
He'd meant to approach her about the subject in the morning, but Section Chief Matsumoto had been on a semi-rampage. Though most of the work to meet the deadline had already been completed, most of the heavy-duty work was still left to do by the Section Chiefs and the Level Designers. So, even though most of the team had nothing to do, Yuuko ensured that they remained as miserable as she was.
Everyone feigned productivity until lunchtime in fear that Yuuko would arbitrarily assign them a difficult project. Keita had been looking forward to hearing from Kotoko about what had happened last night. But then, Kotoko had been forced to bring lunch to Director Irie.
And that was the last that he'd seen of her.
Lunch had ended an hour ago, but Kotoko was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't at her desk, and the girls had mentioned that she hadn't been in the bathrooms, either.
Just what had happened between Kotoko and Director Irie during lunch? Why had he called her to his office?
Keita frowned, recalling the flipbook that Kotoko had made.
Did that idiot hand that over to Director Irie last night?
Was that the reason why he'd called her up to his office – to punish her?
Or… to spend more time with her because he reciprocated her feelings?
He let out a sigh.
Despite what Kotoko thought, Keita was fully aware of Kotoko's feelings toward Director Irie. In fact, being as close as they were—since he was her other best friend, besides Chris—it was impossible not to notice, though Kotoko probably wasn't aware of the fact that he knew. She never brought it up—maybe due to fear that she'd jinx her chances of being with the Director if she vocalized her feelings?—but it was painstakingly clear to him.
Kotoko, who'd always loved mocha cappuccinos, began drinking doppio espressos with a touch of foam on top after Director Irie had ordered her to make one for him. When asked about it, she'd given Keita a clumsy excuse, saying that her tastes had changed. But she also began eating two sugar cookies every time she had coffee.
Whenever she was called into his office for coffee duty, she looked as if she were floating. And whenever he walked into the room to address the entire team about something, she looked as if she'd faint from happiness.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, she had broken his heart too many times than he could count, without even realizing it.
Keita hadn't always had feelings for Kotoko. When he'd started as a mere part-time intern at Pandai two years ago, he had actually hated the fact that he had to work with Kotoko. She seemed clumsy and slow at all the work that was assigned to her, though she did seem to put some effort into it. However, despite her efforts, any file that reached her seemed to become irreparably mangled. This had especially been an issue for Keita, who had been assigned to work together with her for almost every project.
Working on the computer wasn't her forte, but she could create magic with traditional media. He had witnessed this for himself, firsthand, when the two of them had been asked to finish up some props for a level of a game for the first time.
Keita had been desperate to make a good impression then so that he would be offered a job after he graduated. But because of Kotoko's slow pace and constant screw-ups, the two of them had been forced to stay late. And to top it all off, there had been a building-wide blackout just as they were almost finished.
Frustrated and tired, Keita had been just about to give up when Kotoko had gotten up, pulled sheets of paper from the printer, grabbed a pencil case full of colored markers and a pen, and moved toward the window.
He'd yelled at her, asking her why she was looking out at the Tokyo night view at a time like this. But upon closer inspection, he realized that she'd moved toward the window because it was the only source of light in the entire room. She'd finished inking and had begun coloring, all within a span of five minutes.
She'd finished their entire assignment within thirty minutes – a feat that usually took them two entire workdays to finish. Smiling sheepishly, saying that they'd probably get yelled at by Section Chief Matsumoto for not digitizing the work, she'd placed the completed work on Yuuko's desk. Then, Kotoko had invited Keita to stay the night in her spare bedroom since it had become quite late, and Keita did not yet live in the company dormitories. And because he lived two hours away from the company, he'd reluctantly agreed.
Needless to say, he was quite shocked when he entered Kotoko's apartment for the first time. The place was a goddamn mess. Keita voiced this opinion, asking her how she could live in such a dump. But Kotoko had shrugged it off, and headed into her room.
Just as Keita had finished getting ready for bed, the lights had come back on all over Tokyo. And when he entered her spare bedroom, he found him surrounded by Kotoko's work, now all illuminated.
He saw bookshelves crammed with more sketchbooks than he'd ever seen. The desk had piles of reference books, all still opened, with notes on the margins. The bed was stacked with canvases, with paintings of characters from all eras and backgrounds.
He realized then why she lived in such squalor – because she dedicated every free moment she had to doing what she loved. And in that moment, he felt something in his heart tug uncomfortably. He hadn't realized it then, but that was the first moment that he'd begun falling for her.
After Keita moved into the company dorms as a semi-full-time employee, heading over to Kotoko's room became a part of his daily routine. Without him, the room would soon de-escalate into a pigsty, and her refrigerator would be severely lacking of any real food. She needed him to keep the room in order, and to cook her some actual meals. But of course, her apartment reached repulsive levels once more when both of them were too busy at work.
Remembering this, Keita let out a sigh. Kotoko's room was surely a mess by now. And despite his nagging, she probably hadn't even lined the damn garbage can with an actual garbage bag.
He'd whip her into shape this time. Really.
He shook his head, smirking. What would Kotoko want for dinner tonight?
Four trips to the garbage chute later, Kotoko sighed and collapsed onto her couch. Looking up, she checked the time – 2:30 p.m.
Director Irie would be back in two hours and thirty minutes, and she'd only finished cleaning the living room.
"Damn it, I should've listened to Keita." Kotoko muttered, closing her eyes. "Cleaning up a little every day probably would've helped, just a little."
Her eyes traveled toward the contract between her and the Director, and she let out a sigh. "Well, at least he doesn't hate me, right?" She heaved herself up, and began collecting garbage off her kitchen counter in a fresh garbage bag.
"I mean… if he hated me, he wouldn't have even agreed to live with me… right?" Kotoko mused, smiling a bit. "So maybe that means he might like me, just a little?"
Then, she recalled their interaction in the morning. Remembering his expression when he looked at her kitchen as well as his tone of voice when he was talking to her still stung a bit.
She threw the garbage into the bag harder. Damn it, who the hell did he think he was, anyway, talking to her like that?
But even so…
She sighed again.
He still looked so handsome, even when he scowled.
"So, how are you settling into your new quarters, sir?" Funatsu asked carefully, setting Naoki's coffee down before him.
He glared up at him. "Are you seriously asking me that? How the hell do you think I'm settling in?"
"Well…"
Naoki stirred the foam into his espresso, and sipped. Scowling, he swallowed it begrudgingly and set down the cup.
"Funatsu, this tastes like cat piss. No, burnt cat piss."
Funatsu sighed, taking the cup from Naoki's desk. "I'm afraid that a barista license isn't among my many certifications, sir."
Naoki flipped through his documents a bit more roughly than necessary. "If I knew Kotoko the Airhead was the coffee girl, I would've had her make me a cup before I sent her home."
"Pardon?"
Stretching out against his chair, Naoki tilted his head back as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Apparently, she's my new roommate. And she lives in a pigsty."
Funatsu nodded. "Well, if that's an issue, I can ask someone from the maintenance department to do a special cleanup of the room."
Naoki shook his head, closing his eyes. "No, she created the mess. So she's going to get rid of it."
Just then, there was a thud at Naoki's door. Naoki sat up immediately, and scrambled to his feet. He looked at Funatsu, his eyes demanding an explanation.
"You seemed to have an issue with certain… individuals… not knocking. So I rectified the situation by installing a simple mechanism in the door."
Naoki chucked softly. "Ah."
Funatsu nodded, and headed toward the door to unlock it. The door whipped open, revealing a livid Yuuko.
"Ms. Matsumoto, I must remind you that one must knock when entering…"
"Shut your damn mouth, Funatsu." Yuuko growled, shoving past him. Slamming her hands on Naoki's desk, she glared at him. "Where the hell is Aihara?"
Naoki matched her glare with a cold look of his own. "If you continue being this insufferable, I will look into a departmental transfer for you."
Yuuko turned around and sat on his sofa, crossing her arms. "As if you could find someone capable enough to replace me."
Naoki looked at her, his eyes void of light. "You know that I could do the entire department's job if I had to."
She turned her head away, her arms still crossed, but it was clear that she had lost some of her resolve.
"An… anyway… answer my question."
Naoki shook his head. "No. First, you're going to leave my office. Then, you're going to knock. And when I say, 'come in,' you'll open the door like a person with actual manners, greet Funatsu cordially, and re-word your inquiry in a manner that is suitable for one to speak to their superior."
Yuuko let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm not in the mood for games, Naoki."
"And don't refer to me by my first name. This is your last warning before I file an HR report for insubordination."
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Yuuko got up and left, slamming the door behind her.
Then, about a minute later, there was a timid knock at the door.
Funatsu smirked.
"Come in."
Yuuko entered, letting out a small sigh. Bowing her head slightly toward Funatsu, she approached Naoki's desk in a careful way.
"Where… is… Miss… Aihara… Director?" Yuuko gritted out, not looking at Naoki.
"Should've done that from the beginning. It would've saved us time." Naoki spun his chair around to face away from Yuuko.
"I sent her home." He said simply.
"What?! Why the hell—"
Naoki's chair swiveled back to face Yuuko. He raised an eyebrow, daring her to try that again.
"Um… I mean… Why, sir?"
"That isn't your concern. If that's all, you can leave now."
"Ugh!" Yuuko cried, before she stormed out of the office. She slammed the door behind her, causing the blinds to strike the glass on the door.
"Funatsu."
"Yes, sir?"
"You're keeping a record of every time she does that, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. When that glass finally breaks, the repairs are coming out of her paycheck."
The Tokyo afternoon sky was casting an orange glow in Kotoko's living room by the time she finished taking out the last bag of garbage. All of the trash had been taken out, and all of her things had been taken out of Naoki's room. Now, all that was left to do was to do was some basic scrubbing around the apartment.
However, there was a problem. Due to the sheer amount of sketchbooks and reference books that Kotoko possessed, it was impossible to come up with a way to organize all of them neatly in the living room. The Director wouldn't be happy with this, for certain.
But, it wasn't like she could continue using the bookshelves in Naoki's room. Those rightfully belonged to him, after all. And the bookshelves in her own room had reached their maximum capacity a long time ago. No – those shelves were one dust mite away from collapsing from the sheer weight they were supporting.
Kotoko moistened a paper towel and began to scrub the countertop. Maybe she could take a few shelves from her friends who didn't use their bookshelves?
As she continued to scrub the surface, she mentally evaluated the members of her entourage for their bookshelf-donating potential. Chris and Keita were out of the question, since they had as many books as she did. Kinnosuke probably wasn't the type to use bookshelves, but he'd probably repurposed it into a frame for a day bed or something. And Tomoko and Marina used theirs to display their favorite figurines, so that was a no-go.
But maybe…
Kotoko set the wadded-up paper towel aside, and pulled out her phone.
"Kikyou-chan? Hey, I have a favor…"
. . . .
An hour later, Kotoko knocked on the door of Suite 2901, where Motoki and Keita lived.
A bright-eyed Motoki answered the door. "Oh, honey, come in!" she said, pulling her in for a quick hug as she pulled the door closed behind her. She grabbed her hand, sat her down forcefully on his couch, and strode over to his counter to grab a platter with two cups of tea and cookies.
She placed the platter on the coffee table before her, and plopped down next to her. Then she turned to her, with a dangerous look in her eyes.
"So, spill. From yesterday. Til today. Full deets. Everything. Now." She reached for a cookie, and bit into it daintily.
Kotoko blinked. "Well, I mean…"
Motoki shoved a cookie in her mouth. "No, none of that beating-around-the-bush shit. Just give it to me straight." She reached for her cup of tea, and drank it with the grace of a noble. "What happened?"
Kotoko struggled to swallow the cookie, and took a sip of her own tea. Alas, her own plebian-like sip lacked the decorum that Motoki's had.
"Well, I got an email from the housing department…" Kotoko began slowly, trying to figure out a way to tell the truth, but not the entire truth.
"Uh-HUH….?" Motoki's eyes widened, as she nodded furiously.
"I got the email earlier in the day yesterday, but I was too busy with my deadline-" she continued, only to be interrupted by Motoki.
"Skip to the chase, woman!" she cried, almost slamming her teacup down onto the coffee table.
"Okay, okay! So basically, I got a new roommate."
Motoki's excitement visibly deflated. "Oh. That's it?"
Then, she perked up again. "But what about that meeting with Director Irie today, huh? What was that all about?" Her eyes shone. "Oh, I wish I had a chance to have a one-on-one lunch with him…"
Kotoko scoffed. "Yeah, I would've been happy to trade places with you."
Motoki's expression turned into one of worry. "Wait, was it not good? Did he yell at you or something?"
Kotoko sighed before taking another sip of her tea. "Something like that."
She slid closer to her. "So what happened, exactly?"
She picked up a cookie, broke it in half, and rolled her eyes as she took a bite. "The lunch that Kinnosuke had been holding got all messed up, because he was getting so worked up… remember that? Anyway, I accidentally handed that to the Director, and he demanded that I trade with him." She let out a derisive noise. "What, is a slightly-mussed lunch not good enough to be bestowed the honor of touching his lips?"
Motoki laughed. "Of course not, silly. How could you even consider giving Irie-sama less than the best? That's your fault."
Kotoko scowled. "Gee, thanks, friend."
"Just keeping it real, hun." Motoki took another sip of her tea. "So wait, what did you guys talk about?"
"Um…" Kotoko said, as the clauses of the contract boomed in her head. "He wasn't satisfied… um… with something I did. So he yelled at me."
Yeah. That wasn't a complete truth, but it wasn't a lie. Moto-chan was free to interpret that as she pleased.
"Wow… it was bad enough that he sent you home over it?" Motoki said, raising her eyebrows. "Bummer."
"Tell me about it." Kotoko sighed. "Oh yeah, where's Keita?"
Motoki shrugged. "He was still in the office when I left, so I'm guessing that he had some work left to do. You know how he is when he's 'in the zone' and all. Since you get that way, too."
Kotoko frowned. "That's weird. He and I finished the work for our deadline yesterday."
"Well, Hellcat was on a rampage today because she was pissed about you being sent home early. So maybe she assigned Keita some other work to take out her frustration?"
Kotoko, whose mouth was full of cookie bits, sighed.
"Ew, bitch! Not on my carpet!" Motoko shrieked. "You better pick those crumbs up!"
Kotoko rolled her eyes. "All right, already!" She reached for a napkin, and began reaching for the crumbs on the floor.
"Wait, so your bookcases… I can have both of them, right?"
Motoki nodded, as she finished off the last of her tea. "Yeah. But I'm not helping you carry them down. I don't want to break a nail. Also, they're still in the box that they came in, so you'll have to ask Keita to put them together for you." She shot her a Cheshire grin.
Kotoko shook her head, dusting off her hands. "Nah. I feel bad enough that he's probably working overtime because of me right now." She rose, bringing the collected crumbs to Motoki's wastebasket. "I'll just ask one of the maintenance guys for a couple of tools." She turned to leave, but was stopped by Motoki.
"No, no, no, no. You're not leaving yet." She said, dragging her back to the couch.
"Huh?"
"Not until you see this solid piece of blackmail I snagged last night. Shit hit the fan after you left." Motoki smiled devilishly.
Kotoko's eyes glittered. "Oh?"
Naoki opened the door to Suite 2707, with bated breath. To his relief, the only scent that reached his nose was the faint lemony scent of a cleaning product. Letting out a relieved sigh, he grabbed the bags of groceries and home goods he'd put on the floor to punch in the keycode, and let himself in.
Putting the bags onto the counter, he looked around slowly. Then, with a finger, he wiped at the surface of the counter and held it up to his eye.
Acceptable, he supposed. For an airhead.
He walked into his room, and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was now empty. Gone were the canvases on the bed, and the mess on the desk. The room looked as if it hadn't been lived in for a single day. And his two suitcases were lined up neatly, against the bed.
He gave a curt nod of approval. At least she was capable of getting something done. Placing his bag on his chair, he removed his suit jacket and hung it up on one of the empty hangers. Then he headed into the living room.
He inspected every surface meticulously, crouching down to ensure absolute cleanliness. Everything seemed okay…
…except the mess that she'd left in the corner of the living room.
Naoki sighed. He knew there had to be a catch. Walking over briskly, he examined the pile. Upon a closer inspection, he realized that these had all once been in his room. There were piles of sketchbooks, reference books, and canvases. And thrown unceremoniously on top of them were markers, pens, and pencils of all shapes and colors. He grabbed the sketchpad near the top of the pile, causing some supplies to fall to the floor, and sat down on the couch.
On the left side of each page were notes about the character, as well as some preliminary sketches in pencil. On the right side of each page was the same character, in various poses and times of day. He silently praised her. These were quite good – no, great, actually. The colors that she'd chosen for each character were suitable, and each character's clothing was accurate to the setting that they belonged to. Grabbing a pencil, he made his own notes next to her character designs.
Maybe the company hadn't quite screwed up when they hired her, after all.
Approaching one of the last few pages, something that caught his eye made him scowl. In pink, the words "Mrs. Naoki Irie" were scribbled along the margin, next to the character notes. It seemed that she hadn't quite been paying attention to how hard she'd been pressing the marker into the paper either, as it had bled into the next page.
What an idiot.
Getting up, he grabbed two more of her sketchbooks before placing the first one back onto the pile, when he heard the door unlock. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words died in his throat.
"Hey, Kotoko! You in here? I brought you dinner!" From a glimpse, he could see that there was a familiar-looking long-haired man entering the room.
Keita Kamogari? Why in the world was he here?
Naoki quickly scrambled to his knees and quietly crawled toward the open balcony door, with her two sketchbooks still in his hand. Then, just as Keita entered, Naoki slipped onto the balcony and hid behind a walled area just next to the door. He sat down, pulling his knees close to his chest.
"Hey, Kotoko!" Naoki could hear Keita's voice getting closer. "You here?" Then, he heard a door opening. "Are you in your stu… guess not."
Then, Naoki heard Keita sitting on the couch. "Where'd she go?"
Goddammit. Why did Kamogari have the keycode to the suite? Was Kotoko a looser woman than he'd judged her to be? Why would she give out the keycode to other men, and then go off confessing her love to him?
What a strange woman.
Just then, he heard the front door unlocking once more. He heard something dragging along the floor, and a huge sigh. A feminine sigh.
"Hey!" he heard Kotoko saying. "What's up, Keita? I was actually looking for you!"
He heard Keita laughing. "Funny, since that's why I came here! Are those yours?"
Naoki peeked over, and saw that Keita was indicating to the groceries that Naoki had bought. Kotoko shook her head no.
"No… I guess it's my new roommate's. I wonder where he—er, they, went."
Naoki silently hit his head against his knees.
Smooth, Airhead. Reeeeal smooth.
"Oh yeah," Keita said. "the new roommate. How are they, anyway? And who are they? Do I know them? It's not a man, is it?"
Kotoko let out a forced laugh. "O-of course not, Keita! Sheesh, don't worry so much." Naoki could hear his groceries being moved, and the refrigerator door being opened. "And they're not in the Art Department, so you probably don't know them."
"Yeah, probably not. Well, how is she, so far?" There was a pause. "Judging from how this place looks, I bet she's a real neat freak, unlike you."
He heard a light slap. "No, I cleaned this up! Though that bit is true."
"Wow, she must be quite a character to get a slob like you to clean up after yourself."
"You can say that again." Naoki heard the refrigerator doors shut.
His eyebrow twitched at the jab.
"Anyway, I brought over your favorite: donburi, from Yukihira's. Let's have some dinner."
Naoki peeked out again. Damn, he loved Yukihira's. At least the girl had some taste.
"Aw, really? Thanks, Keita!" Kotoko gave Keita a quick squeeze, and Naoki saw that Keita was blushing from the interaction. The girl, on the other hand, was too engrossed in her dinner to pay attention to the reaction.
The two of them sat at the coffee table, watching TV and chatting as they ate their dinner. But Keita often stole glances at Kotoko, before turning his attention back to his meal.
Naoki rolled his eyes. Oh, so that's how it was.
It was 7:30 p.m. when the two of them had finished dinner, and their conversation had wound down.
"Oh yeah," Keita said, leaning his head against Kotoko's shoulder. "So, what's up with those boxes you brought in?"
Kotoko leaned her head on top of Keita's, sighing in satisfaction. "Oh, they're just bookshelves from Moto-chan. I needed them to re-organize my stuff and she never used hers, so…"
Keita, whose face was slightly pink, got up. "Do you need help putting it together?"
Naoki hit his head against his knees, still on the balcony. No, you idiot. Go home already! He had looked over both of Kotoko's sketchbooks already by this point, and his legs were getting cramped. And he was hungry. And tired.
"No, it's okay." Naoki heard Kotoko say.
Ugh, thank god.
"I have a new character I want to flesh out, so I'm going to try and put the bookshelf together tomorrow or this weekend instead."
Yes, please. Jesus, Buddha, Shiva, please. I'll even put it together for her if Kamogari leaves, already…
"Oh, okay. Well, let me know if you need any help." He heard Keita say, with a bit of disappointment.
Yes!
"I'm going to get started now, so you should head back." He heard Kotoko say.
Yes, good girl.
"Okay. Well then, see you tomorrow."
"Thanks so much for dinner, Keita!" Naoki peeked over, and saw that Kotoko had given him another hug.
Naoki snickered. At this rate, Kamogari would have a heart attack.
"No problem, Ko-chan. See you tomorrow!"
"Bye!"
He heard the door close. Naoki counted to ten slowly, ensuring that Keita was really gone, and then sprung up.
"Finally!" he cried, entering the living room. Kotoko dropped the take-out containers in shock.
"Were… were you…"
Naoki nodded, shoving past her. "Yes, you idiot!" He opened the refrigerator, and saw that his groceries had been haphazardly shoved in, with all of the items still in the bags he'd carried them in.
"And why would you put ice cream," he yelled, pulling it out, "in the goddamn refrigerator?!"
"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, running into her room and closing the door after her.
Letting out a deep exhale, Naoki opened the freezer, shifted some of the coffee grinds aside, and nestled his soupy vanilla ice cream inside. After he had satisfactorily reorganized the items in the refrigerator, he tied the plastic bags into a braid, and stored them in the cabinet below the sink. Then, reaching for the kitchenware that he had also purchased—which was now cool to the touch, courtesy of Kotoko—he began preparing dinner for himself.
Kotoko screamed into her pillow. This living arrangement was just getting from bad to worse. How many times had she made a fool out of herself in front of the Director, already?
He probably hated her at this point.
She hugged her pillow to her chest, and felt her eyes prickling.
If only she hadn't confessed her stupid feelings to him. Then, maybe he would hate her less. If she was as glamorous as Section Chief Yuuko, he probably wouldn't have minded their living situation at all.
But alas, she was Kotoko Aihara, grade-A screwball. The antithesis of glamor.
Rolling over onto her back, she let out a deep sigh. She'd decided from the moment after her rejection that she'd try her best to forget about her feelings for Director Irie. It wasn't like she'd have to try too hard to avoid him either, since none of the staff members saw him regularly except the Section Chiefs. She'd planned on using their distance as her main weapon, to gently erase the traces of the love that she'd cultivated in her heart for two years.
But that was no longer an option at this point. How was she supposed to avoid seeing him, when his room was three feet away from hers?
She rolled over again, and sighed deeply into her pillow, when she heard a knock at her door.
"Kotoko? We need to talk."
Kotoko shot up from her bed. How was she going to see him, with her makeup running down her face?
Wait. "Kotoko?" Not "Airhead?" And no suffix? When had he decided that it was okay to be so familiar with her?
She grabbed a tissue. "Hold on!" she called, wiping her eyes off as best as she could. Straightening out her skirt and blouse, she checked her face in the mirror.
And sighed.
It'd have to do.
She opened her door to reveal Naoki as she'd never seen him before. His hair was wet—probably from taking a shower—and he was dressed in shorts and a black v-neck. Both were form-fitting, and served to show off his athletic body quite well. Her eyes widened.
Without another word, he turned around and headed toward the living room. She followed him, and sat down on the floor across from him when he took a seat on the couch. She still didn't feel comfortable sitting next to him.
"This incident with Kamogari…" he began, testily.
"I'm sorry!" Kotoko cried, bowing her head. "He's one of my best friends, so he pops in all the time. So does Chris, since she brings me dinner a lot, and—"
"Stop." Naoki interrupted, coldly. "You know, you have quite a habit of telling me information I never asked for."
Kotoko nodded sullenly.
"Anyway, what I was trying to say was… this incident that happened with Kamogari can never happen again. Recall this?" Naoki held up the roommate contract, which had been on the coffee table. "Thanks for remembering to tape it up on the inside of the cabinet door like I asked, by the way." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
He pointed at the piece of paper. "Nobody can know that we live together. That includes your friends, best or otherwise." He picked up a pen. "That's why…" he said, as he wrote, "I'm adding an amendment."
He handed it over to her. "Initial next to it."
In Naoki's perfect penmanship, the amendment read:
"I will not tell the keycode of my shared domicile to any person. Each roommate may choose two people to make an exception for, while adhering to these rules:
the person may be a family member, OR
the person must be of the same gender as the distributing roommate. "
Kotoko sighed. If this would make her life with the Director easier, she'd agree to it. He had some rights to his privacy, too, after all.
"Oh, and if you're going to tell the keycode to other people, write their full name, your relationship, their email address, and their cellphone number below." He took the paper, wrote something, and passed it back to her. "Like this."
The new writing he'd added read:
[Hayao Funatsu – Secretary
at pandai . com
XXX-XXX-XXXX]
Kotoko nodded, and scribbled in her initials and Chris's contact information before passing the paper back to her.
Naoki peered at her paper. "Wait. But this person works here. What if she finds out about our living arrangement?"
Kotoko pointed at Naoki's contact. "Well, so does this guy, since he has a Pandai email address."
Naoki scoffed. "Well, he knows about our living arrangements already."
Kotoko glared at Naoki, ire starting to build in her. "What happened to abiding by the rules? You're the one who was so adamant about them."
Naoki snatched the paper from the table, and stood up. "Well, it couldn't be helped, since he was the one who arranged this!" he yelled, gesturing to the room.
She got up, meeting Naoki's gaze. "Well, I told her before I signed your contract, and she's not the type to blab!" she gritted out.
Naoki rolled his eyes. "How do you know?"
"Well, what makes this Funatsu guy so trustworthy, over my best friend?"
He scoffed. "Please. Don't compare Funatsu to some weak, capricious social construct like that. He—"
Naoki didn't have a chance to finish, because Kotoko had slapped him across the face. She glared at him, tears in her eyes.
"What the hell—" he began, but Kotoko cut him off.
"What the hell do you know about me, or my friends?" She said, her voice shaking with anger. "You know, you've been treating me like shit since this whole thing began, and I'm tired of it. We're only roommates, and you act like somehow you're so much better than me."
Kotoko threw the pen at Naoki. "Just because you're my superior doesn't make you better than me, or my friends!" she yelled. "And it doesn't give you permission to treat me like… like some piece of human trash!"
She snatched the contract off the table, and walked toward the shelf in the kitchen for some tape. Then, she opened a cabinet door and taped the contact onto the inside of the door.
"There, happy? Here's your damn contract." She muttered. Then, she walked back into the living room and met the stunned Naoki's gaze.
"I know you hate me already, so let's just stay out of each other's way. I'm sure that works just fine for you, Director." Kotoko said shakily, her eyes filling with tears. Not waiting for his response, she headed into her room and locked the door behind her.
Then, her legs gave way and she crumbled to the floor.
"What the hell… did I just do?"
