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o3 - Procrastination
DUCK had always fascinated Akira. At least, that was story he liked to tell people. It was an honorable organization that swore its duty to protect all Earth from the wrath of aliens. What wasn't honorable about that? What wasn't fascinating about that? Akira had always saw loyalty (to certain individuals, anyway) and fighting aliens as the two most important parts of his job.
Whenever an assignment came around, he was the first to get started on it. Whenever there was a mystery that needed to be solved, he was the one to stay at it the longest. Whenever there was a battle to be fought, he was the one that fought the hardest. Being an operative for DUCK was the most important part of his life.
So why was he lounging across the couch and eating curry instead of working?
Tapioca lifted up his beak and sent an insistent quack Akira's way, but the Indian only placed a finger over his lips, hissing out a "Shh!" He turned his eyes back to the television screen, just in time to see the chef add the last shake of turmeric to a bubbling bowl of dhansak. Just looking at the dish made his mouth water.
"I should try that this upcoming Sunday," the stoic male mused, placing his curry bowl down on the table to scribble some notes in a notepad with a duck on the front cover. "I'll add more cloves but will probably have to do without the meat–"
Quack.
Akira glanced back down towards the duck that was waddling around his feet. There was a certain look in his eye that made Akira shiver.
"I know I'm supposed to be working, but this is my favorite cooking show–"
Quack.
"I still have all day to investigate the alien."
Quack.
"I understand that it will only take a minute, but–"
Quack.
"Yes, I'm aware the Bermuda Syndrome is a crippling fate that I must prevent at all costs, but... it can wait for one more hour." He reached for the remote, but the duck fluttered onto his lap and began waving its wings in front of the male's face. There's was a long string of quacks and a few feathers that escaped from the duck's wings in its haste. This lasted for only a second before Akira let out a long sigh and put down the remote.
"You're right, Tapioca. I should use my time wisely instead of procrastinating." He pressed the 'Power' button on the remote before scooching off the couch and heading towards the door. It only took him a moment to put on his shoes and place a hand to the doorknob.
"Wait... what was the third spice used in that recipe?"
Quack?
"You're not sure, either, Tapioca?" The Indian placed a hand under his chin in thought. "That leaves me only one option... searching for it online."
Quack, quack!
"Don't worry, I'll only take a minute. Two minutes... okay, five minute's my limit."
Four hours later, Akira had gone from searching up the missing spice, to looking up other Indian dishes, to researching where to find top-quality lamb in Enoshima, to hunting for a type of rare ocean blossom that grew only in the spring, to investigating what to feed fish in the summer months.
By six o'clock that afternoon, Akira glanced up at the clock and frowned. "Six already; I should start making dinn–"
It dawned on him; there hadn't been a single hour set aside for work that day.
Tapioca waddled onto the table and sat near his computer, shaking his white head.
Quack, quack.
"Yes, Tapioca, procrastination is a terrible thing."