-----------The Dragon and the Glass Tower-----------
Disclaimer—Spirited Away and it's characters belong to Studio Ghibli and Hayao Miyazaki. Copyrights are being infringed, but I, and all fans in every fandom everywhere, hope that no one minds.
Note--Mr. Sato and Yumiko are original characters. Thank you so much, all of you who have reviewed, especially my great galfriends SpecificEm and Amazonian, who, it appears, watched the movie just so they could read my fic. Luckily, they liked it (the movie). Hee. Now, onto the fun! :)
-----------Ch. 7—Noon of the Third Day-----------
Kohaku stood outside the Garasuyama Building, his body tense. People flowed around him, hurrying about their business. Chihiro was up there, in the tower. She was safe. She was mad about something. He could only hope...
Kohaku reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the last egg--the green one. 'To be opened outside.'
He gazed at it, and, slowly, broke it open.
Pale green eggshell floated to the ground and scattered in the wind. In his hands lay...a key, on a black keychain. The keychain was small and plastic and metal, with buttons to press. The key and the keychain had an unfamiliar symbol on them—a circle with three spokes. Kohaku glanced around in confusion. Is this all?
"Wow, mister. Is that your car?" Kohaku looked over at a young man who had stopped beside him. He had on a uniform, and held closed white boxes of steaming food. A delivery boy.
Kokahu followed the awed gaze of the young man and turned around. Behind him was a large, sleek contraption—one of the fast vehicles so popular with mortals. It was metal, and plastic, rubber, glass, gasoline, and oil and ... leather? It was red, and very shiny. It was pulled up to the curb, looking like it had every right to be there. It hadn't been there a moment before. On the hood was the same symbol as on the keychain—a circle with three evenly spaced spokes, one pointed up.
"Wow. That's a SL55 AMG Mercedes-Benz Roadster Convertible," the young man breathed reverently. "Those have AMG-built supercharged 5.5L 24-valve V-8 engines. And a net power of 493 hp at 6,100 rpm! Dude, their net torque is 516 pounds per foot at 2,750 to 4,000 rpm. That there is the most powerful production model Mercedes-Benz has ever built. It's a supercar." The young man's voice drifted into a hushed, awed whisper.
"Uh...yes," Kohaku said.
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Yumiko sat at her desk in the reception area, appearing diligently occupied. The office was unexpectedly busy that day—a worn woman fidgeted nervously with a magazine in one of the chairs, a sharp looking businessman sat across the way with his briefcase on his knees and a cellphone at his ear. Another man paced, waiting for his lawyer to be available to speak with him.
The door to the reception area opened. Yumiko looked up, but no one came in. The door swung shut, but opened again immediately, and another businessman entered. He gave the door a cocked-eyebrow look, dismissed it, and strode over the Yumiko's desk.
"Miss, I am Yukio Kimura with the Suzume Institute, and I have an appointment with Mr. Sato for noon today," the man said.
"I will let him know you are here," Yumiko told him. "If you will sit down, he will be with you shortly."
"Thank you, I'll wait." The man leaned one arm against the high counter of her desk.
She dialed the extension. "Mr. Sato? Mr. Kimura with the Suzume Institute is here to see you." She happened to glance up. Mr. Nushi was standing a foot or two behind Mr. Kimura, gazing at her intently. "Yes, Mr. Sato, I will directly. Oh, and Mr. Sato? Mr. Nushi is also here to see you." Mr. Kimura looked up and over at Kohaku with surprise. Kohaku did not look at him.
"Uh, yes, Mr. Sato." She hung up. "Mr. Kimura, Mr. Sato will be with you in a few minutes. Mr. Nushi, Mr. Sato will be with you directly."
Mr. Kimura's right eyebrow went up again.
The phone rang. Yumiko glanced at the caller display apprehensively, and answered it.
"Hello, Hori an--" She looked sharply up at Kohaku. "....yes, Mr. Sato." She hung up the phone and reached for the button installed in her desk. There was a click, and the door to the inner offices swung open. She nodded at him. "You may go in now, Mr. Nushi."
He was there in an instant. He pushed the door fully opened and walked inside.
Mr. Sato was there, just inside the door. He clicked his cellphone closed and said, "If you would follow me, Mr. Nushi." He turned sharply on his heel and walked rapidly down the hall. Kohaku followed. Just a few more feet...
Mr. Sato stopped (Too soon!), opened a door and ushered Kohaku quickly inside. He shut the door firmly behind them. "You may sit down." Mr. Sato moved behind his desk and sat down. Kohaku did not. "Mr. Nushi--" Mr. Sato began.
"Mr. Sato," Kohaku interrupted him. "I am here to give you one last chance to be honorable. Please, allow me to see Chihiro."
"Mr. Nushi, I cannot afford--"
"I have brought one last item to exchange." Kohaku pulled the keys from his pocket, and dangled them in front of him. Mr. Sato froze, looking at them. "I don't want money," he said softly. "I don't want lands or gold..." But flesh and blood, Kohaku added silently. "If you accept this, I speak to Chihiro today, and you stay away from her tomorrow." Mr. Sato began to sweat.
"Is that...?" he asked weakly.
Kohaku strode over to the window, and looked down. "There," he said.
Mr. Sato got up and moved cautiously to the window, almost afraid to look.
"That...that's a Mercedes-Benz, isn't it?" Mr. Sato's forehead was close to dripping.
"Yes."
"For Chih-- Miss Ogino?"
"Yes."
The keys were dangling in front of Mr. Sato's face. He began to shake, and than he froze, staring at them.
Mr. Sato grabbed the keys from Kohaku's hands and rushed for the door.
"Please wait here, Mr. Nushi!"
"One last chance, Sato!" Kohaku called after him, as the door slammed shut.
Mr. Sato speed walked through the halls, muttering to himself. He slowed in front of the kitchen and lounge. Employees were chatting together on their lunch breaks. He stood stiffly, still sweating profusely. He put his hands in his pockets, where he had stashed several varieties of pills. He made his decision, and walked into the kitchen.
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"Pardon me, Miss, but my appointment was for noon." Mr. Kimura glared at Yumiko.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I have no control over the irresponsibility of our dear Mr. Sato. If you would sit down, I'm sure something interesting is bound to happen in a few minutes." Yumiko went back to her magazine.
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"Chihiro!" Mr. Sato whispered. She looked up.
"Hello, Mr. Sato."
"How--how's the write-up coming?"
"It's coming. Have you decided about tomorrow?"
"I--I'm still thinking."
She noted how wet he looked. "Well, let me know." She went back to her computer.
"Love, I...I heated up some soup for you."
She glanced at the styrofoam in his hands. "Thank you, dear. That was nice of you." She kept typing.
"Would you like to join me in the lounge for a quick lunch break? I'm sure you could use a break."
"No, thank you, I just want to get this done."
"Oh, alright. Well, here, have some soup." He pushed it towards her.
"Just leave it there, I'll drink it later."
"No, love, drink it now, it will get cold."
Chihiro's hands stilled on the keyboard. She turned and looked at him steadily. She reached out and took the styrofoam cup from his hands. She placed it on her desk, and reached into a drawer. She pulled out a small plastic tupperware container with a tight lid. She slowly and deliberately poured some of the soup into the container, and used the plastic spoon to encourage some of the noodles to go into the dish. She silently noted some unusual things floating at the bottom of the cup and made sure several of those went into the tupperware also. She carefully sealed the lid on the container, and put it in her purse close to her foot. "This is for later," she said.
"Aren't...aren't you going to eat it now?"
Chihiro looked at him. "Why?" she asked calmly.
Mr. Sato sputtered. "Because, 'cause...you need your strength!"
Chihiro sighed. "Mr. Sato. It appears you were in a hurry today. I find it quite a shame that you were not more careful, and also rather an insult to my intelligence. Why, please tell me, did you not take the time to ensure they were dissolved today, before giving them to me?" And she took up the styrofoam cup again and spooned out a half-dissolved pill. She held it up to him. "Is it the just the sleeping pills today, or the ipecac too? Did you try to knock me off more quickly by giving me both at once?"
Mr. Sato gave a strangled sound from the back of his throat, and backed away from Chihiro's accusing spoon. "I...I... Miss Mitsu! What did she tell you?? I'll, I'll...!"
"Miss Mitsu is a good friend, Mr. Sato, and informed me of things I have every right to know about. She is not the one who has been accepting bribes, doublecrossing, and drugging their fiancés!!" Chihiro was yelling now. "What was it this time, Makoto? Another video game? Something you just couldn't live without??"
Mr. Sato tried to shush her, desperately waving his hands, trying to get her to be quiet. Chihiro threw down the spoon.
"The wedding is OFF, you lying son of stink sap!! I could just, just....!!! Uagh!!" She stood there with her fists and teeth clenched, steam rolling off of her as Mr. Sato cowered. She snarled and hissed violently, and finally calmed enough to say, "Come in now, please, Mr. Hiraga. I'm tired of looking at him!" And she sat back down, hard.
Mr. Sato looked around in panic, as Mr. Hiraga, head senior partner of Hori and Hiraga, Attorneys at Law, entered the room.
Mr. Hiraga looked at him. "Do be seated, Makoto." Mr. Sato slumped into a chair.
"Well, Miss Ogino, is this the evidence we need?" Mr. Hiraga picked up the spoon with the pill still stuck to it.
"Yes, sir, and there is plenty more of the soup in a container in my purse. And I'm sure you will find plenty of pill bottles and medicines in Mr. Sato's office."
"Yes, well, Makoto always has been a bit of a hypochondriac. But really, Makoto! Sleeping pills at your workplace?" Mr. Hiraga tutted and shook his head.
Mr. Sato made a gagging noise.
"Well," said Mr. Hiraga, "it appears that we have a bit of a conundrum here. Mr. Sato has, once again, put his employment and the employment of one of our valuable young female paralegals in jeopardy by going against our policy on inter-company relationships. I seem to remember we put that policy in place because of all the trouble you caused before, Makoto." Chihiro looked sharply at Mr. Sato at this, and the air grew thicker with her anger. "This time, you actually intended to marry the young lady. While this is commendable, your actions are still not entirely honorable.
"To add to this infraction, I hear we also have shady dealings with romantic rivals, where bribes of physical goods were accepted as you acted under the jurisdiction of being Miss Ogino's supervisor. And you made deals of a personal nature without consulting her."
Mr. Sato's tight voice broke in at this. "It wasn't a deal of a personal nature, Mr. Hiraga! He just wanted to speak with her, that's all! Probably wanted to consult with her, I'm sure!"
"Perhaps this is so, but nevertheless, in addition to this breach of honorable conduct, you did not follow through with your bargains, Mr. Sato. You actively worked to undermine the arrangements you made with Mr. Nushi. It is not good form for a junior attorney of Hori and Hiraga to renege on any deal of his, honorably made or not.
"Which brings us to our final issue--the illegal, dangerous, and subversive use of over-the-counter drugs in large doses in order to temporarily incapacitate an employee in your charge. This, my dear Mr. Sato, goes beyond the internal affairs of this firm, and into the public realm of the laws of the land, which you have broken actively and surreptitiously.
"So, it appears you have been dishonorable in both personal, professional, and public matters. In every aspect of your life, it seems. And now, the question for us is which action of several options are we going to take in response to your insubordination and crimes?"
Mr. Sato gave another tense, strangled moan, his head in his hands.
"We are an old and established firm, and are involved in several cases that a police investigation would...inconvenience. Therefore, I have discussed the matter with Miss Ogino, and she has agreed not to press charges if you are immediately and permanently removed from your position as a Junior Partner in this firm, and are henceforth fired. She also requests that you never speak to her again. Miss Ogino is a valuable employee—she is an intelligent and meticulous hard worker, and I therefore feel she is worth keeping pleased, happy, and in our employ. I wish to ensure her employment with us by fulfilling her wishes."
Mr. Sato was staring slack-jawed at Mr. Hiraga.
"Mr. Makoto Sato, you are from this time forth fired. Do not attempt to speak to Miss Ogino again, and please do not bother trying to wrangle with the law with us. We still have your drug-laced soup, and Miss Ogino will be pleased to press charges if you break the agreement we are making now. You may go. Do not attempt to go into your office. You may return tomorrow to remove your things after our photographer has thoroughly documented the contents of said office. Especially the medicine stash.
"Do you understand, Makoto?"
Mr. Sato gave yet another strangled, inarticulate noise, and Mr. Hiraga said, "Good!" He stood up, and opened the office door. "Mr. Nagasaki and Mr. Mori will escort you out of the building." Two large security guards were standing outside the door.
"Wait!" Mr. Sato finally found his voice. "Wait, the Shiro Lake case! It goes to court on Tuesday! You need me! You can't possibly win without me!"
Mr. Hiraga looked at him sternly. "Miss Ogino is the power behind that case, Mr. Sato. And she has already asked me to take it over, which I have agreed to do. Don't worry; we will have no trouble winning that case without you, Makoto." And with that, Mr. Hiraga dismissed him. Mr. Sato was dragged out of the room by the security guards, still shouting protestations. Yumiko stood in the hall, bouncing with anticipation. She gave Mr. Sato a huge, evil grin as he passed her by.
"Ah, how nice to have a job well and thoroughly done," Mr. Hiraga sighed with satisfaction. "I have clients to return to, but I think you, Miss Ogino, have a visitor waiting for you in Makoto's office." His eyes twinkled as he looked at her. Yumiko came in and was grinning.
"I don't want to see that man!" Chihiro said, vehemently. Yumiko's face fell; Mr. Hiraga cocked an eyebrow. "Really, he's no better than Sato!"
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Author's Note--Ah, evil little cliffy. :] We have one more chapter to go in this fairytale, and I have some documentation I need to gather. Thank you to everyone who has commented. :)
Note--Everything Mecedes-Benz comes directly from their website, www dot mercedes-benz dot com. I certainly don't carry such facts around with me. I probably wrote them out wrong, anyway. :) See Mr. Sato's shiny new pretty thing at-- {www}dot{mbusa}dot{com/brand/container.jsp?/}{models/main.jsp&modelCode=SL55&src=MODELSELECTOR}
Mr. Kimura, Mr. Hiraga, the security guards, and the delivery boy are all, obviously, convenient original characters.
