Omake: I want to be…
David sighs, looking longingly at the clothes in the shop.
He passes by it everyday, on his way to work, and everytime, he goes through the same motions. Admiring the beautiful dresses, imagining how they might feel, how he might look in them.
It always ends the same. Realizing he is too manly to pull it off, that he isn't cute enough, that he doesn't have the money to spare on these kinds of indulgences, much less for the more extreme fantasies he sometimes has, of getting some mods to remedy the previous problems, becoming the pretty girl he wishes he could be.
There's no way he's going to afford these dresses, much less body mods, on an office drone's salary.
So, he does what he does everyday, and sets all that aside as he continues on his way, to spend another soul-crushing day at work, the morning detour past that store his only reprieve.
A lot of things are happening, it seems. David, somewhat knowledgeable about the machinations of corporations, if only by necessity of being an employee and therefore on the lookout for things that might be bad for him, recognizes the markings of a takeover.
Usually, this doesn't really change things for the employees. It's the same shit as always, no matter which piece of shit is at the top.
Usually.
Whoever is taking over, they're being more proactive. Doing something with the employees. Something shady.
He debates blowing the whistle. He'd be doing something good for his fellow workers, probably. Stopping whichever nefarious events are happening. He'd lose his job, probably go destitute and eventually die, but he'd be doing something meaningful, and good, for once. It's not like there's much he's got to live for, is there?
His mind turns to his only solace. That daily detour, past that clothing store.
David decides to try and keep his head down, until he can find out more.
The piece of shit who was the original boss tried to stop the takeover, or something. David doesn't know the details, but the end result is that it failed, and whatever is going on, they've begun double timing it.
People are being called up at regular intervals, and people don't always come back out.
David begins writing an email.
But, he hesitates. What's the point, anyway? What's he going to achieve, and is he really ready to throw away his life for this? As he gathers his resolve, he's interrupted.
He's being called up.
The mail is rambly, incoherent, and doesn't have any proof whatsoever. Not at all in a state where he can send it.
It feels strangely final, when he gets up. It's almost like he's walking to his death.
Did they find out somehow? Did they know about the mail he was going to send?
Was he going to be one of the people that didn't return from being called up?
When he enters the room, he's assaulted by the scent, the decadent, dizzying smell, so strong he needs to steady himself against the wall for a second.
"Ah, David. I've been looking forward to you."
He recognizes his usual superior, Olivia, the person who's one step above him in the endless corporate ladder, but she's changed.
Looking healthier, more energized than she ever has.
That's the first thing he notices.
Just how much her face has been cleansed of blemishes, how rested she looks, and he's stunned for a moment, only knocked out of it by the further shock of her ears, her new cat ears, twitching in her amusement.
She chuckles.
"I know your little secret, David." She gets closer, and stunned, dizzied, and frightened as he is, all David can do is mutely note she's also wearing a maid uniform now.
She knows. He'll get disappeared like the rest, will he? He doesn't want to die! He's got a dream, still!
"Don't be afraid. Your little mail doesn't matter. This is about something else. Something far more relevant, and interesting." She says, at first reassuring, then tantalizing.
His breath catches in his throat, as she comes ever closer, and his back hits a wall.
.
"I know about… your little detours, in the morning." She whispers.
He falls to his knees, back still against the wall, but now she towers over him.
"I know… what you really want, David. Or would you prefer Davina?" She practically purrs into her ears, leaning over.
A shudder passes down Davina's spine.
"You've got a choice, right now. This choice will decide the rest of your life."
Olivia's soft, purring, lilting tone might as well be hypnotic, for all the effects she's having.
"You can go back through that door, and go back to your sad little cubicle, and watch all the new employee instruction videos." She says, with disdain.
"Or… you can fulfill your dream. And step through that door behind me… and step into the pod in there." She proposes, far more enticingly.
Davina makes her choice.
"Good girl." Is the last she hears, Olivia's praise piercing through the haze that has come over her.