| What Now? Part Three |
Joker propped his feet on his desk and stared out the window, much to the discomfort of Shirahata, the president of his Board of Directors, and Michi, his private secretary.
"I was quite close with Mori-san before his unfortunate passing," said Shirahata. "I was involved in a good many of his business deals. But I don't remember having seen you in his inner circle of friends." Like I could ever miss anyone, with that hair… he thought privately, but refrained from saying so.
"I've spent a few years, but my work was mostly with his son," explained Joker. "I was in charge of many… sensitive… assignments, shall we say. A good deal of negotiating… very hush-hush, you understand." Why is he staring at my hair? He gave Shirahata a brilliant smile, but it had the effect of sending chills down the BOD president's spine.
"I understand," said Shirahata, although he didn't. "Well, good luck with everything… we look forward to our first meeting with you. Next Tuesday." I hope he gets those braids chopped off before then.
"Next Tuesday it is," agreed Joker, smiling amicably. He doesn't like my hair. Too bad.
They bowed politely, and Shirahata left.
"So, Michi-chan! What's on my list today?" asked Joker.
"Well, Odokemono-san, you're scheduled to have lunch with Shobu Toru at the Uchiyama Country Club. There's a Harbor Commission meeting from 3-5 this afternoon over at City Hall which you're required to attend."
"Anything else?"
"You can probably expect a number of people to drop by today," said Michi. "I'll let you know. If you're bored, there's a putter, a golf ball, and a glass in that closet." She left the room, and Joker resumed his admiration of the view.
So this was what it's like to have a 9-to-5 job… he loosened his tie a little. Neon had expressed sarcastic surprise that morning when she had seen him. "I'm surprised you even know how to tie one of those things," she had said, glancing up from her grapefruit.
He grinned. Work—real work, at least—was boring. He'd be miserably bored out of his mind, if it wasn't for Neon and Raiha back at the penthouse. They were… familiar. He could speak freely with them, and not have to worry about letting sensitive information slip. Together, they had been through so much… an indescribable bond had formed between them.
Plus, Neon was a fantastic target. He wondered if he could use Michi to annoy her, but then decided against it. He'd give the poor girl a break. She was obviously heartbroken over Kurei… he reveled in teasing her, but he didn't want to hurt her. Even though the last few days, she had seemed better, Joker knew it wasn't the kind of thing you could get over very easily.
The smile had gradually faded from his lips. How different his life would have been if… if only. He'd never planned on becoming an assassin. It just sort of happened. Amazing, how the events in one's life could build up to such an improbable ending. If only one detail at any point in time had changed, his life would have been unrecognizable. He would have been unrecognizable. He'd probably have been doing the 9-to-5 suit-and-tie thing for a few years now… he would have been just an ordinary man, blending in with all the other gray-suited black-haired men riding the subway to the office. He'd wanted to become a physicist… perhaps work at the University? Do a little research… do a little teaching… If he'd stayed in school, he could be working on his doctorate by now. He counted the years on his hands… yes, he could've.
He closed his eyes. He could imagine himself coming home with his lovely red-haired wife being there to give him a kiss when he got in. Not Neon, but a Neon lookalike. His two or three kids would show him their spelling papers or math tests, and he would express the proper pleasure at viewing their high marks. After all, if they were his kids, they couldn't be anything less than brilliant.
That happy little scenario had kept him going for four years, but it had all shattered into nothing because he hadn't known better. Well, he had known better… but the hand of fate had interfered with his judgement. What was he thinking. Hand of fate, nothing. He had messed up his own life singlehandedly, thankyouverymuch. He had obsessed over it for a year, waiting for her to graduate, waiting for her to come back, hoping against hope… He had been too heartbroken to go on to graduate school. He had worked… funny, he'd been bored by the mundanity of it all even then. But it was something to do, something to occupy his body while his mind obsessed over the wrong turns in his life.
He'd held on to hope until he found out she had married. And somehow… a part of him had died then. He could never quite explain it, but he was different after that… For the better? For the worse? He didn't know.
He had joined up with Kurei, and had served him happily for a while. Served him? He doubted that was the most accurate term for his actions, but he had at least worked for him. It had been an interesting experience. It had been more fun than his last job. The mystery, the intrigue, the excitement! He doubted there would be much chance for an adrenaline high working at the import company Kurei owned. There would be nothing to keep him in shape… nothing to keep his reflexes sharp… nothing to keep his senses keen. But did he need all that? This was a different world he was living in. An eagle has no need for its strength or perception when kept in a cage. A wolf has no need for is cunning or skills when chained to a fence.
Somehow, he didn't like that option. But then again, if he kept his ties to the past, would it only make his transition more difficult?
Transition… the word echoed through his mind. He wasn't merely continuing his life… he was beginning a whole new one. He was picking up where he'd left off. He suddenly had a chance at everything he had ever wanted, before that fork in the road…
He wasn't a caged eagle. He was an eagle soaring among pigeons. He wasn't a chained wolf. He was a wolf seeking acceptance into a pack of tame dogs. He could conveniently pretend that the last few years had never happened… or at least gloss over them, with the explanation that he had worked in a very hush-hush capacity. His situation was becoming more and more agreeable every moment…
He pulled the putter, glass, and ball from the closet and began to practice. He couldn't entirely hold back a sweatdrop, though.
So this is what if feels like to be normal…