Preamble: While Ends of Earth pieces are mostly standalone, jumping all over the place chronologically without care, this one is an exception. High Places will not make as much sense without having read the 8th story, A Billion Stars and One Portal Jump.
"Hey," said the king. "We're here to see the Director. It's kinda last minute."
The secretary at the reception, the first gatekeeper to the CEO of his company, peered at us over the rim of his elegant spectacles. He was 1. human, 2. smartly dressed in a finely tailored ensemble, and 3. from the look in his eyes, wholly unimpressed by our appearance.
I could hardly blame him. The king was, well, as only the king could be, but on top of that dressed in sandals, rolled shorts, the loudest, most visually offensive shirt he could have possibly found with the words "HIT ME WITH A CAR" scrawled across the front, and oversized sunglasses on his face. I was only a little better. (No sunglasses, and my shirt was far less obnoxious.)
I wished I had a chance to send advance word before we left, or before we arrived, but having not used free portals for several decades, both of us in our haste had forgotten entirely about some of their inconveniences. Such as, for instance, the possibility of landing in the middle of the ocean.
I blamed myself for the beginning of the journey starting on such a misstep, since attention to detail was never the king's strong suit, and taking care of such nuances was properly my domain. My lord had been an admirable sport about it, in fact finding everything hilarious and a grand adventure, but unsurprisingly it had taken longer than anticipated to become presentable in public again. (A moment of blessing for the prominence of digital currency in all three Worlds.) By the time the king had decided where he wanted to make a pit stop, there was really no time for anything in advance, including plans for a more appropriate wardrobe.
But then again, planning would have contravened the entire concept of the trip.
Evaluation complete, the man pasted on a detached customer service smile. "I'm very sorry, sir," he said, with schooled politeness, "but the Director is presently occupied."
The king took off his sunglasses, perching them precariously on his head. "No problem," he replied genially. "We can wait."
The man continued to smile. "I'm very sorry, sir, but first an appointment must be made to be able to see the Director."
"Okay," said the king.
The secretary looked at him, still smiling, and did nothing.
The king looked around the lobby, puzzled. "That's cool, we can make one," he finally said.
The secretary continued to smile at us.
The king furrowed his brow. "Uh, can I make one?" he asked.
"I'm very sorry, sir," the secretary repeated. "But appointments are in very short supply this day. "
"Oookay," said the king. He turned to me and stood on tiptoe, cupping one hand to his mouth. I leaned over to better hear him and, though it didn't in truth affect my auditory range, tucked my long hair behind one ear. Having "hair" again after centuries was certainly an experience I was still becoming reacquainted with. It had all been at the king's insistence, the better to elude both professionals and shutterbugs. Thus far, we had been successful. (Then again, his shirt ...)
"What's that supposed to mean?" the king whispered.
"I believe he's trying to tell us there are zero appointments available today," I answered.
"Why the fuck doesn't he just say that?" the king hissed.
"Perhaps he's been instructed to be difficult," I replied, unperturbed. Due to the king's aversion to bureaucracy, T1 had little to no red tape, but I was quite accustomed to dealing with other Territories and Human World governments where its citizens weren't nearly so fortunate.
"Got it," said the king. He turned back to the secretary. "I wanna make an appointment at the first available time."
"I'm very sorry, sir, but making an appointment is something that may be a little difficult."
"Nah, it's actually super easy," said the king. "Just take your head outta your ass long enough to look in your calendar, where there aren't any of those little coloured boxes, and give us a goddamned time."
A few other people milling about the lobby glanced our way, then politely continued with their business. The secretary's displeased gaze became positively ferocious, but his smile did not waver. "I'm so very sorry, sir. I meant to say that I'm afraid the Director's calendar is completely full. He is a very busy man."
The king inhaled slowly, squaring his shoulders. His eyes darkened like an incoming storm, his entire facial expression riding on the cusp of countdown-to-homicide. My lord was a world-class champion in the art of intimidation, possessing a formidable glower that could reduce even battle-hardened warriors to tears. He was quite far from pulling out all the stops at this moment, but even the ignorant usually quailed at the first hint of it, sensing their impending doom.
I noted that this human, who did not appear to be psychic in the least, did not give any outward sign he would buckle. I was impressed. Then again, the Director must have had measures in place to protect his employees.
The king gritted his teeth. He hadn't released any energy, but I noticed that his longer canines were starting to show.
"Look, pal-" he started, his voice a low growl.
"-we understand completely," I said, grabbing the king by the shoulder before he could unleash his royal demonic wrath and blow his cover, or worse, escalate into him taking the whole building down. He closed his mouth and looked at me. "You're obviously doing your job and fielding out time wasters with equal time wasting skill. However, I can assure you the Director would see us. If we're unable to secure an audience or a decision from you efficiently, I would feel terrible about the inconvenience that might result for you later - from your end of the organization."
The secretary looked at me, a microexpression of hesitation passing over his features. It was the first sign of acknowledgement that he had something to be nervous about - backlash from the company, perhaps even from the nebulous Director himself. He was, of course, well-trained and therefore still quite skeptical of such thinly-veiled threats, but a seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.
"If there isn't a quick way for the Director to verify for himself if he wishes to see us or not," I continued, giving the man an out, "we must leave a message for him to set up a later meeting."
The king frowned at me. That was weak, he complained. What happened to your badass negotiation skills, man? Who the hell knows if Mister Smiley All the Fuck Long Day is actually gonna pass the message on?
We're hardly here on urgent business, I shot back. Considering the owner, I trust the staff are competent, and we shouldn't lay waste to one man's livelihood for our convenience. Administrative assistants deserve some respect for the grunt work their employers task them with, wouldn't you say?
Taking the clear hint, the king shut up without even one further smidgeon of psychic grumbling. Thus assured, I released my grip on his shoulder. Not that I could have actually stopped the king if he had been set on a warpath of destruction, but, despite, or perhaps because of, his idiosyncrasies, he was a good ruler - an excellent ruler - without pretension, and he did listen to my words of reason. Mostly.
The secretary nodded at us, the customer service smile having vanished and now replaced with genuine professional courtesy and focused attention. He reached under his desk and pulled out a black book. "What is your party's name, contact information, and availability?" he asked.
"Ooh," said the king, impressed. My mind began to whirl, thinking of an answer that the Director would be able to recognize, but wouldn't compromise the cover of the king.
It was then that the sharp sound of heels clicking briskly against polished tiles caught everyone's attention.
A woman in a fashionable suit strode up to the reception, the very picture of traditional Japanese beauty, with long dark hair and a fragrant perfume trailing after her. I noticed her unique energy signature right away, and without a doubt the king did too. It wasn't human, nor was it exactly demon, but -
I pinpointed it after a few seconds, and marveled.
"I'll take this over from here," she said to the secretary. "You know I handle all the special inquiries."
He looked at her, and back at us. "Ah, Miss Megumi," protested the secretary. "There's no need. These guests have asked to leave a message for the Director."
"All guests, both humans and demons, can be special, including persistent visitors," Miss Megumi said, smiling pleasantly. "Especially persistent visitors." She turned to face us, bowing politely and gracefully. "Hello, gentlemen. Perhaps I can assist in expediting your request. May I ask what business you have with the Director, and help guide your concerns to where they need to go?"
"How 'bout a friendly handshake first?" said the king.
Miss Megumi's eyes narrowed subtly, but she extended a hand with delicately painted nails. The king smiled and took it, revealing a hint of his energy signature in his grip.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a small 'o'. She turned to the secretary, who had been watching the exchange curiously. "These very important gentlemen do have an appointment," she said to him. "It hasn't appeared in the calendar because it was such short notice. Please note only that the Director will be occupied for an indeterminate period of time."
The secretary's mouth fell open, and his face paled. He nodded and entered the information into the system.
"Come this way," said Miss Megumi.
"Sorry for being a dick," the king said to the secretary.
"Please, no need to apologize," the secretary replied, somewhat stiffly, but he was undeniably relieved.
We followed Miss Megumi deeper into the building and into a private lift. It was fully transparent, with an impressive panorama of the city. She tapped the glass lightly as we stepped in. "One way," she noted for our benefit.
There was no button panel, touch screen, or any floor indicator of the sort - we simply started going up. As the lift passed the numerous levels of the skyscraper, I could detect subtle twinges in the atmosphere, the intangible sense of converging, scanning, assessing, and then giving way. The energy intrusion was quite deft, even gentle, undetectable by low-level demons or psychics. But it was hardly something that could be slipped past any S-class demon worth their mettle.
Beside me, the king leaned against the glass, gaze resting languidly on the opposite wall, one hand in his pocket. A faint half-smile passed over his face as each floor went by, undoubtedly amused by his old friend's meticulous, painstaking measures.
After a few seconds, he looked up. "Kurama sure is doing elaborate shit with his plants nowadays," he remarked.
The plant smiled at us. "Sometimes it can be hard to find good help for, shall we say, delicate tasks. This is the next best thing to doing it all himself. And this way it's much easier to run a tight ship and deal with unwelcome visitors. Demon and human."
"That must take an inordinate amount of energy management and finessing," I said. "How many of you are there? Are you all completely autonomous?"
The plant pressed an elegant finger to her red lips. "Sorry, trade secret," she replied with a smile. The elevator doors opened, and she ushered us into a waiting room. It was beautiful in the modern, minimalist style, with clean lines and light wood, brightly lit with natural light, and decorated - or perhaps armed - with carefully arranged, exotic Human and Demon World plants.
"Here you are, gentlemen. You won't need to wait long. Lovely meeting both of you." We watched her leave, the scent of flowers still hanging in the air, gradually dissipating.
"Sooo fancy," commented the king.
"So these are my unexpected guests," said a severe voice from behind us.
We turned and found the Director standing there, a warm smile on his face. He was in casual business attire with a short sleeved shirt and subtly patterned tie, looking more like a young salaryman about to climb the corporate ladder than the immensely powerful worlds-spanning CEO - and ancient demon - he truly was.
"You know I'm trying to maintain a low profile," he mock-scolded.
"Yeah? Well, have some pity for those of us who can't," the king laughed, going to him with arms wide open. The two old friends embraced.
The Director chuckled. "Can't, or won't?"
"Can't help it, guess it's just not my style," the king replied with a grin. Then he froze. "Shit, are you swamped with work? I didn't even ask if this was a good time."
The Director smiled. "It's a great time," he replied. "It's actually fairly quiet - and boring - at the moment, so this is a pleasant surprise from both of you. I must say, Hokushin, that hairstyle suits you very well."
The king glanced at me with a told ya! smirk on his face.
The Director welcomed us into his spacious office, which, like the elevator, had a splendid view of the bustling city, and, naturally, more plants. On the table was an assortment of drinks and mouthwatering French delicacies, and the king pounced on them with delight.
"Megumi's cool," the king said, tucking into a buttery croissant. "But man, your people downstairs are bru-tal!"
"It's not their fault - for the most part," the Director replied. "They're only following my direction. All my gatekeepers have specialties, and rotate regularly so repeat offenders can't try the same tactic. Hiroyuki has been trained to frustrate and bore unwanted visitors to death."
"Give him a raise," said the king. "A big one. He did a great job; I nearly blew the place up. You know, we should work out a system so I don't act like an idiot next time."
"I think this one worked rather well," the Director replied. "Normally this wouldn't have been an issue at all; all employees are under express instructions to admit any of the Territory administrators and chiefs of staff directly to Megumi and her siblings. And even with your, ah, disguises, you only had to wait a couple of minutes. Although, this building's defenses are not equipped for S-class power of your magnitude." He nodded at me. "Thank you, Hokushin, for preventing him from inadvertently annihilating my property and decimating the morale of my staff."
"My pleasure," I replied, bowing in my chair.
The king was affronted. "Geez, I'm not really that bad, am I?" he said, wiping crumbs from his face.
"No, you've definitely improved," the Director said. "You actually gave Hokushin enough time to stop you from causing a scene."
"That thought crossed my mind as well," I agreed.
"Don't everybody give me too much credit, now," the king said, disgruntled, but he seemed mollified. Judging from the quickly emptying baskets and plates, the patisserie selection was probably helping.
"I am wondering, Master Kurama," I said, "If it may be possible for us to request some of your expertise or resources in maintaining a low … a lower profile while my Lord is on his vacation."
"Our vacation," the king interjected loudly. The Director quirked his lips, as if he wanted to make a comment, or laugh, but said nothing.
"We were quite fortunate you had Megumi set up to manage unforeseen scenarios," I continued. "But other venues may not be as accommodating."
The Director set down his cup of tea, leaning back in his chair. "Here I was, thinking some sort of dire trouble was brewing in the Makai, causing the two of you to turn up at my office in such, mmm, straits, without any formal notice," he said. "But it seems my fears were completely unfounded. I'm glad to hear things are going so well that you'd permit Yusuke to go out and play, not to mention drag you along with him."
"Hey, I'm right here! What am I, being babysat or something?" the king demanded.
"Yes," the Director and I said at the exact same time. The king looked taken aback, and then his expression grew sheepish.
"I think I can certainly be of assistance," the Director continued. "I'll arrange for employee IDs for both of you. You're taking advantage of a sightseeing break from whatever business workshop, conference or convention is happening in the area you're in. If anyone has questions, they can easily contact the company and verify your identities. If for some reason you run into any issues, you can also call, identify yourself with the information on the badges, and connect with a concierge who will assist you. One moment."
He got up and walked to one corner of the room, touching a screen on the wall, and spoke quietly into it while we continued to enjoy the refreshments. Mere seconds later, he returned and sat back down.
"There, it's all taken care of. By the time you're done here, the IDs will be waiting for you at reception. Minamino Enterprises, General Operations, Senior Consultant" - he nodded in my direction- "and -" he nodded at the king, "Summer Intern."
The king dropped the profiterole he was holding while I choked back a laugh. "Intern!" he exclaimed, incredulous.
"Yusuke, I will always owe you my life, and the wonderful life my beautiful departed mother was able to have," the Director said smoothly, "and you will forever enjoy my undying gratitude and eternal favour. But I am not prepared to see Minamino Enterprises go under in anything less than five hundred years. Thank you."
"Summer intern!" the king repeated, still dismayed.
"Thank you, Master Kurama," I said appreciatively. "This is immensely helpful." The identification and background support would no doubt make travel in the Human World easier by a hundredfold, and even the positions given, while entertaining, had been carefully selected in mere seconds. One could expect nothing less than brilliance from the Director.
I slid my sulking king a plate with a slice of mille crepe. "Consider the positive side, my Lord," I told him. "You can carry on as usual, and don't have to watch your language, or much of anything else related to proper decorum."
The king brightened. "Yeah, fuck that decorum," he said happily, attacking the mille crepe with his fork.
The Director laughed. His eyes, green as grass, were full of merriment. A flicker of gold passed over them and was gone, giving the impression one might have imagined it.
"So," he said, leaning forward. "Tell me the latest news from the Demon World."
Author's notes: Megumi is obviously a reference to Kurama's seiyuu. Hiroyuki is a randomly-selected common Japanese name. (Well, random, and I like Hiroyuki Sakai.)