And that when was he told her. It was her latest assignment, be the tour guide for the business men who were coming to do business with her company. They were from France, with some big company she had heard of once while her social studies teacher rambled on about how horrific the economy was.

Did she scare for her assignment? No. she would have preferred to stick to her regular routine, make coffee, rearrange files every-which-way, annoy the boss. Anything would be better than showing four French men around her office building. Did she even know her way around the building herself?

Yumi knew she couldn't plead with her boss, he was a strict man. When he had his mind made, it would stay that way. Unless it had to do with the combination on his safe; he never had trusted his employees

She still had no idea how she would pull this off. Was there a map she could get a hold of anywhere in the computer's data base? She doubted it, if anything her boss would be the one to have a map, and asking him would be the end of her assignment, and her job. She was lucky she had it in the first place, being as inexperienced as she was.

So Yumi went the day mumbling and complaining to inanimate objects about her misfortune, while awaiting certain doom. These men where probably perverts anyway, paying more attention to how low her skirt was cut than anything around the building. When work was finally over, she worked her way through the crowded streets back to her apartment building.

Glancing up the stairs, she grimaced as she took off her high heals. Before her foot landed on the first step, her knees already throbbed.

He had already packed, double checked to make sure he had three clean pairs of underwear and socks. Was he missing anything? He doubted it. Nearly everything he owned was packed, except the kitchen sink.

With his two bags of luggage near the door, he pulled on a suit. They had to leave fairly early in the evening to get there pretty early in the morning, having about a five hour difference. He could adjust to the jet lag pretty well; traveling the world wasn't new to him.

He had been so many please, he was incredibly lucky. But never had he been to Japan. Ever since middle school he had wondered what it was like. Yumi had always mentioned living in Japan when she was a kid, but what was it like now? Had she moved back when she moved away? Ulrich couldn't remember, but it seemed most likely. Her father had always been looking for work "back home".

He knew he wouldn't get to see her, though. What were the odds? She had moved somewhere in Japan, probably a small town like where they had lived in France. He was headed for a city not to far from Tokyo itself. She could never live there, she hated cities.

He shook his head, and looked at the clock on his nightstand. He was a little bit behind, but could make up the time. They weren't expecting them to be there at 5 on the dot, where they? It didn't matter; they couldn't replace his seat on the plane now.

Popping the trunk, Ulrich loaded his luggage into the empty space. Most men would have golf clubs or his kids backpack in their trunk, but for him it was all empty space. Eventually, he'd have a full trunk, too. Or at least, he hoped.

He had fallen asleep halfway through the plane ride. The chubby man sitting to his right, that is. All Ulrich could do was hope he woke up before the ride was over, he wasn't sure how much more of the snoring he could take. Although the man to his left was not helping the situation, either.

Matthew. Schmit, had been the man to his left. If there ever was a man who did not believe an action was worth more than a word, it was him. A constant noise had been coming from his mouth since he took the seat next to him, and even the presence of food didn't stop the talking. Ulrich had then decided why the chubby man had fallen asleep, so he did not have to listen to this Matthew. How lucky he was.

Ulrich looked at the screen displaying the further distance, and groaned. Three more hours of torture still awaited him. Was it even possible to survive under these conditions? He didn't know, but he wasn't about to find out. Excusing himself, he made his way to the back of the plane for a trip to the bathroom. A three hour trip to the bathroom.

By the time she reached the fourteenth floor, she was out of breath. She silently cursed herself for buying the apartment the year before, what a major mistake. As she fumbled with the keys in her hand, she could hear the phone ring from inside the locked space.

"Damn it!" she couldn't find her key, did she have a spare? Yes, but it was in her car. There was no way, she was going back to her car now. Groaning, she looked one last time for the key, digging through her pocketbook.

There it was, in all of its shiny silver glory, at the bottom of her bag. She grabbed it and pushed it into the lock, waiting for the click. With a smile of approval, she pushed the door open and ran to grab the phone.

That was when the answering machine picked up, and whoever was calling hung up as they heard the recorded message. This was just her luck, just her luck. What if it had been one of her friend? Or her boss, for that matter. Leaning against the wall, she let gravity pull her to the floor. With her head on her knees, she cried tear after tear. That was where she fell asleep, high heals still in hand.

AN: If you haven't noticed, I do like the word damn… a lot. So it's finally the weekend, and I'll be off to my moms with my friends, maybe I'll have them write a little, ;D. Read and review, please and thank you!

-Aimee.