Your call is important to us.
Title: Your call is important to us.
Fandom: Johnnys
Pairing: Gen fic including primarily members of KAT-TUN, NEWS, Arashi and Kanjani8, with mentions of others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nothing but a little bad language!
Summary: Masuda Takahisa gets a job working for a customer service call centre, a place where anything can (and does) happen, and where his collegues include (but are not limited to) Tegoshi Yuya, customer service genius, Ueda Tatsuya, the office's very own bouncer, and their ever loving (sometimes) manager Takizawa Hideaki keeping them all under control.
Author's Note: Written for ryogrande for je_otherworlds 2012.
Time: 8am
Calls waiting: 26
Longest waiting time: 00.01.00
Total Calls taken: 0
“Your call is important to us. Please hold, and we will be with you as soon as we can.”
-------
“Can you answer a phone?”
“Yes.”
“Can you deal with being yelled at on a regular basis?”
“I guess...”
“Okay, you’re hired.”
-------
Takizawa-san, a customer just told me he’s on the way here to beat us all up.”
“Tell Ueda to go and stand outside the door.”
-------
“Eh? Kamenashi, I can’t even hear a word you’re saying. If I can’t hear you, how will the customers hear you? You need to take at least another couple of days off and come back when you’re no longer sick. What do I mean, ‘another’? What? You were here yesterday? I didn’t hear you. Oh, right. That’s why I got all those complaints about someone breathing heavily to them. I didn’t see you. You were hiding under your desk? Kamenashi. Don’t come to work. I mean it. You’ll contaminate us. Okay. Thank you.”
Takizawa Hideaki hung up his phone, and opened up a blank email on his computer.
Dear all,
If anyone sees Kamenashi Kazuya today, please send him to Ueda to break his legs.
Regards,
Takizawa Hideaki
-------
On the ground outside the office building, a small half-unconscious man lay on the concrete surrounded by broken plastic pieces of what had once been a wireless router. There were signs of having lost a fight all over him, bruises on his face, a small bleeding wound on his forehead. Above him, looking totally calm, Ueda Tatsuya stood with a pair of boxing gloves covering his hands, poking the unfortunate man with his foot.
“Now you can go home and call us and - nicely - tell us that your router is broken, and maybe we’ll send you a new one,” he told him politely.
“... are you supposed to do that?” a voice spoke, and when Ueda looked up, he came face to face with a short, well-built man with hair the colour of the sunrise and wearing a fashion Ueda didn’t think he had ever seen before.
“You must be new.”
“I’m... Masuda Takahisa. I start working here today. I was told to report to -”
“Ah, the new guy! Okay, come on.”
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?”
“Hmm?” Ueda looked confused at the prospect. “Ah, no, we keep them out here as an example,” he told him simply, and then took Massu’s arm before he could complain further, dragging him into the office.
-------
It wasn’t easy to drag a fishing rod through the low doors of the office, and not even Ohno Satoshi could make it look so. He tried it at several different angles, knocking several items, including a pot plant, from the reception desk, before finally entering the building.
“Satoshi, what are you doing?”
“Fishing,” Ohno shrugged as if it should be obvious, and after a few attempts, he managed to clumsily drag the rod through the swinging door of the building’s male restroom.
“Fishing?” A head peeked up over one of the cubicles, and the confused expression on Maruyama Ryuhei’s face was lined with hints of concern.
“Poor guy,” another voice spoke, and another head peeked out, this time from round the corner of his entranceway; Shibutani Subaru was too short to look over the top of his cubicle, something which constantly annoyed him.
Subaru had a cigarette between his lips, and a fan in his cubicle was blowing the smoke as far away of the smoke alarm as possible. “He’s never been the same since he was demoted for having sex with Nino in the bathrooms...”
“You ought to be careful then,” Maru commented.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Subaru muttered, and blew smoke in Maru’s face. He retreated back into his cubicle and sat back down, leaning back in his seat. “Where is Yasu, anyway?” he asked quietly to himself.
-------
“Yes yes yes!”
The voice cried out so suddenly that Massu went into a momentary panic. When he glanced around, it didn’t seem like anyone else was overly worried. His shoulders slumped.
“And that was?”
“Tegoshi Yuya-san. He will be training you today.”
“... Oh.”
“Tegoshi is one of our best agents, you should be very pleased to be trained by him.”
Tegoshi’s cubicle was like a shrine to the Japanese soccer team, and - Massu thought - more resembled a teenager’s bedroom than a workspace. There were flags lining the top of the divider, posters, even a signed shirt in a frame. Beside Tegoshi’s keyboard was another frame, in which was a photograph of Tegoshi himself standing beside the team’s star player. The only thing not related to soccer on the cubicle walls, were five framed certificates, all related to customer service.
Once his eyes had circled the entire cubicle, he set his eyes on the owner of the cubicle itself. Tegoshi Yuya seemed to sparkle, was Massu’s first thought. His hair was bleached an almost white blonde and styled immaculately, his skin was perfect and his teeth shining white as he looked round to greet him. Massu felt his cheeks starting to get hot.
As he slipped into his seat and set his bag down on one corner of the desk, Tegoshi reluctantly minimized the soccer game he was watching live on his computer, revealing the company’s customer database underneath.
“Do you like soccer?” Tegoshi asked him, his tone full of interest and curiosity about this new face in the office.
“Not really,” Massu replied honestly.
“Oh,” Tegoshi replied, and turned back to face his computer screen, signalling the end of Tegoshi’s interest and therefore the end of the conversation.
-------
Dear all,
Some of you know this already, but today is my last day with the company (again). Next week I will be leaving for America where I hope to pursue a career in the music business.
I have been informed that I will not be receiving any leaving gifts on this occasion as you all believe I will be returning again in another year.
Well.
Fuck you.
I never liked any of you anyway.
(Except you, Kamenashi.)
Regards,
Akanishi Jin.
-------
“Takizawa-san, this customer is saying one of our representatives sounded like he was having sex while speaking to her on the phone.”
“She’s saying what? Do the records show who she spoke to?”
“Tegoshi Yuya-san.”
Realisation suddenly hit him. “Tell her Japan scored a goal.”
“Yes, Takizawa-san.”
-------
“The most important thing to do, is smile. The customers can’t see us, but they can feel it in your voice. If you’ve had a bad day, the customer doesn’t know that, so you can’t take it out on them. Just smile, and everything will go well!”
Koyama Keiichiro had been taken away from his normal phone duties for the morning, to give a talk to a group of university students who had come to learn about the company.
The students - so far - didn’t seem overly enthused about being there, but this wasn’t effecting Koyama who was enthusiastic, and proud that he had been given what he thought was a very important role.
“But they’re allowed to shout at you as much as they like?” one of the students, a cool and - Koyama thought - extremely cocky young man by the name of Nakajima Kento.
“Of course!” Koyama replied, his smile never fading. “Because they’re the customer. And the customer is always right.”
Nakajima pouted at that, but didn’t speak again, as a note was passed to him by Yaotome Hikaru who was sitting to his left. He opened up the piece of paper and sniggered, before folding it up to pass it on.
“What’s that?” Koyama asked curiously as he spied the note.
“Nothing.”
Koyama stepped between the rows of chairs and plucked the note out of Nakajima’s hand before he had chance to hide it. He opened it up as he headed back to the front, reading over the words written there.
Koyama-sensei’s eyes are weird.
The corner of Koyama’s lips twitched a little as he screwed up the piece of paper and tossed it in the garbage can nearby. “So!” he continued, as if nothing had happened, but his expression had changed a little, his positive expression felt more fake. “Like I said, the most important thing is to smile!”
-------
Dear all,
Apologies for the delay in sending out this email. Star call takers for today so far are as follows:
8 - 9am - Tegoshi Yuya.
9 - 10am - Tegoshi Yuya
10 - 11am - Tegoshi Yuya
11 - 12pm - Tegoshi Yuya
Congratulations, Tegoshi! You may collect your prize from my desk whenever you get the chance. Everyone else, good luck in the second half of the day!
Regards,
Takizawa Hideaki
“What’s the prize?” Massu asked in interest as Tegoshi glanced over the email.
“Chocolate, I think.”
Massu’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go and fetch them for you, then you can keep taking calls right?”
“Sure,” Tegoshi shrugged, distracted when another call came through to his phone.
With permission gathered, Massu jumped up from his seat and disappeared from the cubicle just as Tegoshi introduced himself to the customer with, “You’re through to Johnnys. You’re speaking to the greatest agent in the office, Tegoshi Yuya, how may I help you today?”.
Massu arrived back a couple of minutes later, his cheeks stuffed full like a hamster. “I’m sorry,” he told him apologetically. “I seem to have lost the chocolates somewhere en route.”
-------
From: Murakami Shingo
To: Tech support
Subject: Phone issue
Hi,
My phone seems to be broken. Can you send someone to fix it?
Regards,
Murakami Shingo
From: Tech support
To: Murakami Shingo
Subject: RE: Phone issue
Hello Murakami-san,
Broken in what way?
Regards.
From: Murakami Shingo
To: Tech support
Subject: RE: Tech support
Hello,
In half.
Okay, okay. I hit someone over the head with it again.
Can you fix it or what?!
Regards,
Murakami Shingo
-------
“What time is my lunch break?” Massu asked Takizawa as he happened to wander past the cubicle he and Tegoshi were sitting in.
“Well, Nakamaru asked me about ten minutes ago and I told him he would have to wait until Ryo got back from his. Oh, but then Yamashita cornered me on my way out and asked me too, and I said he’d have to wait until Nakamaru finished, so I guess then it will be your turn.”
Massu blinked, trying to take all that information in on an empty stomach. “So... what time will that be?” he asked, but Takizawa had already breezed off.
“I think I’m going to starve to death, Tegoshi-san,” he told his trainer dramatically.
“Does that mean I’ll be able to watch my soccer game in peace?” was Tegoshi’s only response.
-------
“Yes, madam, I understand that it’s very important for you to watch your skiing competition...” Junno sighed loudly, but there was a hint of amusement to his tone now as he checked off on the notepad sitting beside him the fifteenth time she had mentioned this urgent skiing tournament.
“Is this a joke to you?” the customer replied, so loudly that Koki Tanaka in the next cubicle stood up and climbed up onto his desk to look down on the show.
“It’s no joke,” Junno shook his head and Koki rolled his eyes as Junno’s face broke into a wide grin. “Snow joke! Did you get it?”
Koki knew exactly what was coming even if Junno didn’t; no one ever appreciated Junno’s puns, especially not the customers.
“Get me your supervisor.”
“Yes Madam.”
Junno put the call on hold, and stood up from his seat. He peeked out of his cubicle, and heard Takizawa Takizawa’s voice sailing down the corridor. He was clearly talking to another customer already, and Junno glanced down at the flashing light of his call, and glanced up at Koki. “What should I do?” he asked.
“Hang up on her,” Koki shrugged, his lips curving in a mischievous cat-like smile.
“I can’t do that!” Junno protested, but Koki leaned right down, pressing a button on the phone that cut off the call.
“That’s funny, because it looks like you just did.”
-------
“He’s certainly... interesting,” Massu told Shige as they sat together on their lunch break. Unlike Massu, Shige was dressed immaculately in a suit and tie, and had taken a rare break from his own office to join his friend for lunch. Shige, like Massu, had begun his career at Johnnys in the call centre, but had quickly worked his way up into a more senior position in HR, a position that had led him to get his friend a job in the first place.
“Seriously though, you should be careful, the last three people who have trained with Tegoshi have all become pregnant the week after,” Kato Shigeaki warned him as he sipped on coffee from a flimsy plastic cup. Massu’s eyes narrowed a little and he searched Shige’s expression for any sign of a joke.
“But we’re all guys!” Massu pointed out, when he realised Shige was deadly serious.
“I know, it’s kind of weird right?” Shige chuckled, and took a sip from his plastic cup of coffee.
Massu glanced down at his stomach worriedly, and then looked up at Shige again. “Is it already too late?”
“I’ll be waiting for your maternity paperwork,” was Shige’s only reply.
-------
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Office
Subject: Post-it notes
Dear all,
Does anyone have any spare post-it notes? The stationery cupboard is empty,
Regards,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Office
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
Dear all,
I now have a stack of post-it notes as tall as myself. I don’t require any more.
Thank you,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Ueda Tatsuya
To: Nishikido Ryo
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
How many is that? Three?
Regards,
Ueda Tatsuya
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Ueda Tatsuya
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
Go to hell.
Regards,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Ueda Tatsuya
To: Nishikido Ryo
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
You go to hell.
By the way, I spat in your mayonnaise.
Regards,
Ueda Tatsuya.
-------
It was with hesitation that Massu returned to Tegoshi’s cubicle. He wondered if it might already be too late for him, and he kept glancing nervously at his stomach, afraid that a mini Tegoshi might already be growing inside him.
He sidled into the cubicle, and pushed his chair to the opposite side of the desk before sitting in it, hoping that keeping his distance from Tegoshi might somehow make a difference.
“Tegoshi... Um, is it true about the babies?” he asked, hoping that perhaps Shige had been making some kind of very unfunny joke.
“Hm? Oh, yes it is. It’s kind of weird, right?” Tegoshi replied, echoing Shige’s early words, and Massu decided that he really was doomed.
-------
An anguished but slightly hoarse scream across the office sent everyone’s heads peeking up over the tops of their cubicles. A lot seemed to pass the office by with little panic, and most of the expressions were more curious than anything else. In one corner of the office, lying on the floor and half leaning against one of the water dispensers, was the figure the screams had come from.
“Is it a customer?’ someone who couldn’t see asked.
Takizawa stood up from his chair and walked out of his cubicle to take a look at what was happening, and looked down at the man lying in pain on the ground. He gave Ueda Tatsuya, who was standing nearby, a thankful nod.
“Well, I did tell you not to come to work,” he told Kamenashi Kazuya, and pulled out his cellphone to call an ambulance.
-------
“Hello? Hello?! HELLO?!”
Ohkura Tadayoshi twitched in his sleep. His head was resting against the keyboard, typing a string of random letters into the open customer database on the screen. The J, K and L keys were damp and sticky with drool. The screen showed that his current call had been connected for almost two minutes, and a customer on the end of the line had been trying to get his attention ever since.
One hand reached out, and pressed a button on the phone to end the call, in a similar way to a person might hit the snooze button on an alarm clock. “I’m trying to sleep,” he murmured as his arm slipped unconsciously back down by his side.
-------
Nakamaru Yuichi was sitting relaxing in his cubicle during a rare quiet moment between alls when he was hit on the head by a hard blunt object. “Ahhhhh!” he yelled, and his expression became pained as he rubbed a sore spot and looked down at the item in question; a stapler.
“Sorry!” a voice yelled from somewhere across the office, Nishikido Ryo’s voice, he realised. “Wrong cubicle, it was meant for Ueda.
Nakamaru picked up the stapler and suddenly a little indignant about Ryo’s carelessness, stood up and launched the stapler back across the room in the direction he thought it had come from.
“Aaaaahhhh what was that?!” a voice cried out, and Nakamaru recognised the voice to be a distinctive one belonging to Koyama Keiichiro.
“Sorry, Koyama-san!” Nakamaru yelled apologetically. “Wrong cubicle!”
Suddenly, war broke out. The original thrower of the stapler had decided to give it a second try with another, and had aimed incorrectly once again. Koyama, not wanting to throw something as heavy as a stapler, launched a plastic cup across the cubicles where it landed on the head of someone who had not yet become involved in the fight. Soon, items were flying back and forth across the office. A teddy bear sailed into Aiba Masaki’s cubicle. A keyboard was launched from someone in retaliation for a phone. A desk chair landed inches away from Matsumoto Jun’s head, much to his disgust (his face was far too important to be ruined by a chair).
In the middle of it all, Tegoshi and Massu had up until now, miraculously avoided having anything land in their cubicle. Massu had been struggling to find any topic of conversation that would keep the pair going for more than two exchanges, but still, he commented, “isn’t it amazing that -”
However, he didn’t have chance to finish, because as he was about to express his amazement that they had managed to keep out of the war zone so far, a mug of cold coffee flew over the cubicle wall, and landed right in the middle of his head.
He stood up in shock and dismay as the coffee dripped over his hair, down his face and onto his clothes. “Hey!” he shouted over the cubicle. “You just ruined my clothes...”
“You know, coffee is pretty good for your hair,” Tegoshi commented, the first thing he’d offered since their last failed conversation an hour before.
-------
Dear all,
Where did you last see or leave your coffee mug? If you left it in the dishwasher, then by now it is probably happily sitting in the cupboard waiting for its next outing. If, however, you left it half empty on the reception desk or in the empty cubicle in the corner or even in a toilet cubicle, then I regret to inform you that it has evolved and we’re all about to be killed in an evil-mug related invasion.
… Well, actually, a couple of us just gathered them up and put them in the dishwasher for you and it was disgusting and guys, seriously, there was green stuff and dead bugs and just... ew. But THINK ABOUT IT. One day you could be sitting happily answering calls and you could be attacked by a giant evolved evil mug trying to take over the world with its evil mug friends. And you don’t want that to happen, do you?
Save the world. Wash your dishes.
Thank you for listening.
Regards,
Yokoyama Yu.
-------
“Oh my god!” a voice squealed, echoing out throughout the building. It was getting close to 4pm, when the final shift arrived. Yasuda Shota was an aspiring fashion designer who was working part time for the company, and today happened to be his birthday.
His cubicle had been filled from top to bottom with sparkles and balloons and banners and all the kinds of things an over the top birthday celebration should have, and Yasu’s eyes were on stalks as he surveyed the display. “You guys, you’re all so amazing...” he spoke, although everyone was too busy working to hear. A few tears appeared in the corner of his eyes.
In the middle of his desk was a gift wrapped up in blue with ribbons and more sparkles, and he practically leapt towards it, tearing the paper off like he was a dog, and looking excitedly at what was inside. He pulled the tissue paper from the box inside and underneath was an outfit that Yasu quickly realised was a maid costume. Attached to the skirt, was a little tag, which he pulled off and read.
Meet me in the bathrooms in twenty minutes wearing this. Subaru.
Yasu wondered if Subaru was perhaps mistaking him for Tegoshi, but he went along all the same.
-------
“Your engineer came round to my house to fix our cable, and ended up having sex with my wife! This has ruined our family! RUINED. We have three children! Think of the children. How will this effect them? We’ve been happily married for thirty years. Your engineer has ruined my life! YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE COMPANY SHOULD BE PUNISHED. PUNISHED!” a customer was ranting down the phone to Junno, and beginning to get so emotional he was almost in tears. Junno’s usual happy smile and never ending patience and empathy was beginning to show signs of cracking and he looked on the verge of tears himself. This man’s life was ruined and he Junno wondered why he wanted to punish him when all he’d done was answer the phone.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he spoke in a choked tone, entirely unsure what he could say or do. “Let me find out what we can do for you,” he decided, and put the call on hold. He stared at the call, his eyes sparkling with tears, tears which suddenly let loose from his eyes and left him a sobbing wreck with his head in his hands against the desk.
Next door, Tanaka Koki, a phone to his ear, listened to the hold music, and sniggered, wondering how Junno could possibly not recognise his voice.
-------
Takizawa peeked his head around the door about half an hour before Massu’s first shift was due to end. “Masuda,” he spoke, and tossed an ID card at him. Massu caught it clumsily between his fingers and looked down at it.
“... This isn’t me.”
“It isn’t?”
“It says ‘Uchi Hiroki’.
“We like to recycle the IDs of people we fire.”
“But this isn’t me,” Massu repeated, blinking a little.
Takizawa gave a deep sigh, and took the card back from Massu, borrowing a tube of white-out from Tegoshi’s draw, and erasing the name before replacing it with Massu’s name and handing it back.
“You spelt my name wrong. And that picture isn’t me...”
Takizawa took the ID again, and used the white-out once more on the photograph on the card, before replacing it with a crude stick figure drawing with bright red hair. “There, perfect.”
Massu decided it really wasn’t worth arguing any more and hung the ID around his neck.
“By the way,” Takizawa added as he turned to leave the cubicle. “That ID will allow you to get in but won’t allow you to get out. When you want to leave, come and see a manager and we’ll decide if you can go or not,” he explained. Massu suddenly felt like he might never get out alive.
-------
“YES IT’S HOME TIME! LETS GO PARTY, EVERYONE.”
Yamashita Tomohisa dashed out of the office’s shower room dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist, hair soaking wet, and began to strut down the corridors between the cubicles, as if he were dancing to some music that only he could hear.
“Yamashita, put some clothes on,” Yoko complained from in his cubicle; not that he was jealous or anything, despite that he had been on four different diets this year and still couldn’t lose any weight.
“So, are you all coming to party?” Yamashita asked, peeking into each cubicle on his way past, adding to his dancing by beatboxing and nodding his head as he
The cries from the cubicles were a resounding “NO”.
“You’ll regret it~” Yamashita told them in a sing-song tone, but no one was really listening. “Are you all sure?” he asked, and was met with silence once again. “Okay, then I guess I’ll go PARTY~~ on my own then,” he shouted extra loudly, and continued down the corridor to his own cubicle still dancing to the silent beat in his head.
“YAMASHITA, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON.”
-------
“Tegoshi-san,” Massu spoke to his trainer as the clock hit 5pm, his finishing time, and he bowed to the other. “Thank you very much for today. It’s been very... informative.”
Tegoshi was facing the computer, looking up reports about the soccer match he had been watching on the internet, and wasn’t really paying attention to anything Massu was saying.
“Also,” Massu added, and a blush crept up his cheeks. “I think I’m in love with you.”
“Okay,” Tegoshi replied, his eyes scanning the text on the webpage he was looking at. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-------
Dear all,
ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO PARTY?
Regards,
Yamashita Tomohisa.
(your one in a million).
-------
“On reflection, I’ve decided that I don’t wish to take the job. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I don’t feel like it’s really for me,” Massu told Takizawa over the phone the following morning. He was planning on heading to the pharmacy later that day to pick up a pregnancy test, but he wanted to get this conversation out of the way first.
Takizawa leaned back in his seat, and gave a nod, despite that Massu couldn’t actually see him. “I understand, it’s not for everyone,” he told him. “Thank you for calling me and letting me know,” he told him gratefully, and then he hung up the phone.
“Tatsuya!” Takizawa called, and a moment later, Ueda appeared in the door of his cubicle. “I want you to visit Masuda Takahisa at home and teach him what we do with quitters.”
“Yes sir,” Ueda replied obediently as a slightly sadistic smile curved the corners of his lips.
Just as Ueda was about to turn and leave, Takizawa stopped him and asked, “by the way, have you seen Yamashita today?”
“In his cubicle, sir. Under the desk, asleep, surrounded by beer cans. Someone stole his clothes so he couldn’t leave and decided to party in here instead.”
“Guys!” a voice was suddenly heard, slightly hoarse with tiredness. It seemed Yamashita has emerged from his sleep. “Is the room spinning or is it just me?” he asked, and suddenly there was a screech.
“YAMASHITA PUT SOME CLOTHES ON.”
-------
Massu, sporting a black eye, sat on the side of his bath, holding a thin stick in one hand. He’d picked up the pregnancy test just after Ueda Tatsuya had paid him a rather violent visit, and was waiting for the results. The minutes he had to wait were seeming to take hours, and as the clock finally hit the end time, he cautiously turned over the test, and glanced at the result displayed on it.
“Oh my god,” he spoke out loud, staring down at the test in horror. “They weren’t lying!”
-------
"Yes, Takizawa-san. I heard you are looking for new staff and I was wondering if it would be possible to come for an interview."
"Of course! Can I take your name?"
"Akanishi Jin."
"America didn't work out then?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
-------
"No, seriously guys, I think the room is spinning."
"YAMASHITA. PUT. SOME. CLOTHES ON."
-------
Your call is important to us. Unless you are a disgruntled ex-employee, or the person who told our best agent to go and jump off a cliff. If you are not in either of those categories, please continue to hold and we will answer your call as soon as possible.
Fandom: Johnnys
Pairing: Gen fic including primarily members of KAT-TUN, NEWS, Arashi and Kanjani8, with mentions of others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nothing but a little bad language!
Summary: Masuda Takahisa gets a job working for a customer service call centre, a place where anything can (and does) happen, and where his collegues include (but are not limited to) Tegoshi Yuya, customer service genius, Ueda Tatsuya, the office's very own bouncer, and their ever loving (sometimes) manager Takizawa Hideaki keeping them all under control.
Author's Note: Written for ryogrande for je_otherworlds 2012.
Time: 8am
Calls waiting: 26
Longest waiting time: 00.01.00
Total Calls taken: 0
“Your call is important to us. Please hold, and we will be with you as soon as we can.”
-------
“Can you answer a phone?”
“Yes.”
“Can you deal with being yelled at on a regular basis?”
“I guess...”
“Okay, you’re hired.”
-------
Takizawa-san, a customer just told me he’s on the way here to beat us all up.”
“Tell Ueda to go and stand outside the door.”
-------
“Eh? Kamenashi, I can’t even hear a word you’re saying. If I can’t hear you, how will the customers hear you? You need to take at least another couple of days off and come back when you’re no longer sick. What do I mean, ‘another’? What? You were here yesterday? I didn’t hear you. Oh, right. That’s why I got all those complaints about someone breathing heavily to them. I didn’t see you. You were hiding under your desk? Kamenashi. Don’t come to work. I mean it. You’ll contaminate us. Okay. Thank you.”
Takizawa Hideaki hung up his phone, and opened up a blank email on his computer.
Dear all,
If anyone sees Kamenashi Kazuya today, please send him to Ueda to break his legs.
Regards,
Takizawa Hideaki
-------
On the ground outside the office building, a small half-unconscious man lay on the concrete surrounded by broken plastic pieces of what had once been a wireless router. There were signs of having lost a fight all over him, bruises on his face, a small bleeding wound on his forehead. Above him, looking totally calm, Ueda Tatsuya stood with a pair of boxing gloves covering his hands, poking the unfortunate man with his foot.
“Now you can go home and call us and - nicely - tell us that your router is broken, and maybe we’ll send you a new one,” he told him politely.
“... are you supposed to do that?” a voice spoke, and when Ueda looked up, he came face to face with a short, well-built man with hair the colour of the sunrise and wearing a fashion Ueda didn’t think he had ever seen before.
“You must be new.”
“I’m... Masuda Takahisa. I start working here today. I was told to report to -”
“Ah, the new guy! Okay, come on.”
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?”
“Hmm?” Ueda looked confused at the prospect. “Ah, no, we keep them out here as an example,” he told him simply, and then took Massu’s arm before he could complain further, dragging him into the office.
-------
It wasn’t easy to drag a fishing rod through the low doors of the office, and not even Ohno Satoshi could make it look so. He tried it at several different angles, knocking several items, including a pot plant, from the reception desk, before finally entering the building.
“Satoshi, what are you doing?”
“Fishing,” Ohno shrugged as if it should be obvious, and after a few attempts, he managed to clumsily drag the rod through the swinging door of the building’s male restroom.
“Fishing?” A head peeked up over one of the cubicles, and the confused expression on Maruyama Ryuhei’s face was lined with hints of concern.
“Poor guy,” another voice spoke, and another head peeked out, this time from round the corner of his entranceway; Shibutani Subaru was too short to look over the top of his cubicle, something which constantly annoyed him.
Subaru had a cigarette between his lips, and a fan in his cubicle was blowing the smoke as far away of the smoke alarm as possible. “He’s never been the same since he was demoted for having sex with Nino in the bathrooms...”
“You ought to be careful then,” Maru commented.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Subaru muttered, and blew smoke in Maru’s face. He retreated back into his cubicle and sat back down, leaning back in his seat. “Where is Yasu, anyway?” he asked quietly to himself.
-------
“Yes yes yes!”
The voice cried out so suddenly that Massu went into a momentary panic. When he glanced around, it didn’t seem like anyone else was overly worried. His shoulders slumped.
“And that was?”
“Tegoshi Yuya-san. He will be training you today.”
“... Oh.”
“Tegoshi is one of our best agents, you should be very pleased to be trained by him.”
Tegoshi’s cubicle was like a shrine to the Japanese soccer team, and - Massu thought - more resembled a teenager’s bedroom than a workspace. There were flags lining the top of the divider, posters, even a signed shirt in a frame. Beside Tegoshi’s keyboard was another frame, in which was a photograph of Tegoshi himself standing beside the team’s star player. The only thing not related to soccer on the cubicle walls, were five framed certificates, all related to customer service.
Once his eyes had circled the entire cubicle, he set his eyes on the owner of the cubicle itself. Tegoshi Yuya seemed to sparkle, was Massu’s first thought. His hair was bleached an almost white blonde and styled immaculately, his skin was perfect and his teeth shining white as he looked round to greet him. Massu felt his cheeks starting to get hot.
As he slipped into his seat and set his bag down on one corner of the desk, Tegoshi reluctantly minimized the soccer game he was watching live on his computer, revealing the company’s customer database underneath.
“Do you like soccer?” Tegoshi asked him, his tone full of interest and curiosity about this new face in the office.
“Not really,” Massu replied honestly.
“Oh,” Tegoshi replied, and turned back to face his computer screen, signalling the end of Tegoshi’s interest and therefore the end of the conversation.
-------
Dear all,
Some of you know this already, but today is my last day with the company (again). Next week I will be leaving for America where I hope to pursue a career in the music business.
I have been informed that I will not be receiving any leaving gifts on this occasion as you all believe I will be returning again in another year.
Well.
Fuck you.
I never liked any of you anyway.
(Except you, Kamenashi.)
Regards,
Akanishi Jin.
-------
“Takizawa-san, this customer is saying one of our representatives sounded like he was having sex while speaking to her on the phone.”
“She’s saying what? Do the records show who she spoke to?”
“Tegoshi Yuya-san.”
Realisation suddenly hit him. “Tell her Japan scored a goal.”
“Yes, Takizawa-san.”
-------
“The most important thing to do, is smile. The customers can’t see us, but they can feel it in your voice. If you’ve had a bad day, the customer doesn’t know that, so you can’t take it out on them. Just smile, and everything will go well!”
Koyama Keiichiro had been taken away from his normal phone duties for the morning, to give a talk to a group of university students who had come to learn about the company.
The students - so far - didn’t seem overly enthused about being there, but this wasn’t effecting Koyama who was enthusiastic, and proud that he had been given what he thought was a very important role.
“But they’re allowed to shout at you as much as they like?” one of the students, a cool and - Koyama thought - extremely cocky young man by the name of Nakajima Kento.
“Of course!” Koyama replied, his smile never fading. “Because they’re the customer. And the customer is always right.”
Nakajima pouted at that, but didn’t speak again, as a note was passed to him by Yaotome Hikaru who was sitting to his left. He opened up the piece of paper and sniggered, before folding it up to pass it on.
“What’s that?” Koyama asked curiously as he spied the note.
“Nothing.”
Koyama stepped between the rows of chairs and plucked the note out of Nakajima’s hand before he had chance to hide it. He opened it up as he headed back to the front, reading over the words written there.
Koyama-sensei’s eyes are weird.
The corner of Koyama’s lips twitched a little as he screwed up the piece of paper and tossed it in the garbage can nearby. “So!” he continued, as if nothing had happened, but his expression had changed a little, his positive expression felt more fake. “Like I said, the most important thing is to smile!”
-------
Dear all,
Apologies for the delay in sending out this email. Star call takers for today so far are as follows:
8 - 9am - Tegoshi Yuya.
9 - 10am - Tegoshi Yuya
10 - 11am - Tegoshi Yuya
11 - 12pm - Tegoshi Yuya
Congratulations, Tegoshi! You may collect your prize from my desk whenever you get the chance. Everyone else, good luck in the second half of the day!
Regards,
Takizawa Hideaki
“What’s the prize?” Massu asked in interest as Tegoshi glanced over the email.
“Chocolate, I think.”
Massu’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go and fetch them for you, then you can keep taking calls right?”
“Sure,” Tegoshi shrugged, distracted when another call came through to his phone.
With permission gathered, Massu jumped up from his seat and disappeared from the cubicle just as Tegoshi introduced himself to the customer with, “You’re through to Johnnys. You’re speaking to the greatest agent in the office, Tegoshi Yuya, how may I help you today?”.
Massu arrived back a couple of minutes later, his cheeks stuffed full like a hamster. “I’m sorry,” he told him apologetically. “I seem to have lost the chocolates somewhere en route.”
-------
From: Murakami Shingo
To: Tech support
Subject: Phone issue
Hi,
My phone seems to be broken. Can you send someone to fix it?
Regards,
Murakami Shingo
From: Tech support
To: Murakami Shingo
Subject: RE: Phone issue
Hello Murakami-san,
Broken in what way?
Regards.
From: Murakami Shingo
To: Tech support
Subject: RE: Tech support
Hello,
In half.
Okay, okay. I hit someone over the head with it again.
Can you fix it or what?!
Regards,
Murakami Shingo
-------
“What time is my lunch break?” Massu asked Takizawa as he happened to wander past the cubicle he and Tegoshi were sitting in.
“Well, Nakamaru asked me about ten minutes ago and I told him he would have to wait until Ryo got back from his. Oh, but then Yamashita cornered me on my way out and asked me too, and I said he’d have to wait until Nakamaru finished, so I guess then it will be your turn.”
Massu blinked, trying to take all that information in on an empty stomach. “So... what time will that be?” he asked, but Takizawa had already breezed off.
“I think I’m going to starve to death, Tegoshi-san,” he told his trainer dramatically.
“Does that mean I’ll be able to watch my soccer game in peace?” was Tegoshi’s only response.
-------
“Yes, madam, I understand that it’s very important for you to watch your skiing competition...” Junno sighed loudly, but there was a hint of amusement to his tone now as he checked off on the notepad sitting beside him the fifteenth time she had mentioned this urgent skiing tournament.
“Is this a joke to you?” the customer replied, so loudly that Koki Tanaka in the next cubicle stood up and climbed up onto his desk to look down on the show.
“It’s no joke,” Junno shook his head and Koki rolled his eyes as Junno’s face broke into a wide grin. “Snow joke! Did you get it?”
Koki knew exactly what was coming even if Junno didn’t; no one ever appreciated Junno’s puns, especially not the customers.
“Get me your supervisor.”
“Yes Madam.”
Junno put the call on hold, and stood up from his seat. He peeked out of his cubicle, and heard Takizawa Takizawa’s voice sailing down the corridor. He was clearly talking to another customer already, and Junno glanced down at the flashing light of his call, and glanced up at Koki. “What should I do?” he asked.
“Hang up on her,” Koki shrugged, his lips curving in a mischievous cat-like smile.
“I can’t do that!” Junno protested, but Koki leaned right down, pressing a button on the phone that cut off the call.
“That’s funny, because it looks like you just did.”
-------
“He’s certainly... interesting,” Massu told Shige as they sat together on their lunch break. Unlike Massu, Shige was dressed immaculately in a suit and tie, and had taken a rare break from his own office to join his friend for lunch. Shige, like Massu, had begun his career at Johnnys in the call centre, but had quickly worked his way up into a more senior position in HR, a position that had led him to get his friend a job in the first place.
“Seriously though, you should be careful, the last three people who have trained with Tegoshi have all become pregnant the week after,” Kato Shigeaki warned him as he sipped on coffee from a flimsy plastic cup. Massu’s eyes narrowed a little and he searched Shige’s expression for any sign of a joke.
“But we’re all guys!” Massu pointed out, when he realised Shige was deadly serious.
“I know, it’s kind of weird right?” Shige chuckled, and took a sip from his plastic cup of coffee.
Massu glanced down at his stomach worriedly, and then looked up at Shige again. “Is it already too late?”
“I’ll be waiting for your maternity paperwork,” was Shige’s only reply.
-------
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Office
Subject: Post-it notes
Dear all,
Does anyone have any spare post-it notes? The stationery cupboard is empty,
Regards,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Office
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
Dear all,
I now have a stack of post-it notes as tall as myself. I don’t require any more.
Thank you,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Ueda Tatsuya
To: Nishikido Ryo
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
How many is that? Three?
Regards,
Ueda Tatsuya
From: Nishikido Ryo
To: Ueda Tatsuya
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
Go to hell.
Regards,
Nishikido Ryo.
From: Ueda Tatsuya
To: Nishikido Ryo
Subject: RE: Post-it notes
You go to hell.
By the way, I spat in your mayonnaise.
Regards,
Ueda Tatsuya.
-------
It was with hesitation that Massu returned to Tegoshi’s cubicle. He wondered if it might already be too late for him, and he kept glancing nervously at his stomach, afraid that a mini Tegoshi might already be growing inside him.
He sidled into the cubicle, and pushed his chair to the opposite side of the desk before sitting in it, hoping that keeping his distance from Tegoshi might somehow make a difference.
“Tegoshi... Um, is it true about the babies?” he asked, hoping that perhaps Shige had been making some kind of very unfunny joke.
“Hm? Oh, yes it is. It’s kind of weird, right?” Tegoshi replied, echoing Shige’s early words, and Massu decided that he really was doomed.
-------
An anguished but slightly hoarse scream across the office sent everyone’s heads peeking up over the tops of their cubicles. A lot seemed to pass the office by with little panic, and most of the expressions were more curious than anything else. In one corner of the office, lying on the floor and half leaning against one of the water dispensers, was the figure the screams had come from.
“Is it a customer?’ someone who couldn’t see asked.
Takizawa stood up from his chair and walked out of his cubicle to take a look at what was happening, and looked down at the man lying in pain on the ground. He gave Ueda Tatsuya, who was standing nearby, a thankful nod.
“Well, I did tell you not to come to work,” he told Kamenashi Kazuya, and pulled out his cellphone to call an ambulance.
-------
“Hello? Hello?! HELLO?!”
Ohkura Tadayoshi twitched in his sleep. His head was resting against the keyboard, typing a string of random letters into the open customer database on the screen. The J, K and L keys were damp and sticky with drool. The screen showed that his current call had been connected for almost two minutes, and a customer on the end of the line had been trying to get his attention ever since.
One hand reached out, and pressed a button on the phone to end the call, in a similar way to a person might hit the snooze button on an alarm clock. “I’m trying to sleep,” he murmured as his arm slipped unconsciously back down by his side.
-------
Nakamaru Yuichi was sitting relaxing in his cubicle during a rare quiet moment between alls when he was hit on the head by a hard blunt object. “Ahhhhh!” he yelled, and his expression became pained as he rubbed a sore spot and looked down at the item in question; a stapler.
“Sorry!” a voice yelled from somewhere across the office, Nishikido Ryo’s voice, he realised. “Wrong cubicle, it was meant for Ueda.
Nakamaru picked up the stapler and suddenly a little indignant about Ryo’s carelessness, stood up and launched the stapler back across the room in the direction he thought it had come from.
“Aaaaahhhh what was that?!” a voice cried out, and Nakamaru recognised the voice to be a distinctive one belonging to Koyama Keiichiro.
“Sorry, Koyama-san!” Nakamaru yelled apologetically. “Wrong cubicle!”
Suddenly, war broke out. The original thrower of the stapler had decided to give it a second try with another, and had aimed incorrectly once again. Koyama, not wanting to throw something as heavy as a stapler, launched a plastic cup across the cubicles where it landed on the head of someone who had not yet become involved in the fight. Soon, items were flying back and forth across the office. A teddy bear sailed into Aiba Masaki’s cubicle. A keyboard was launched from someone in retaliation for a phone. A desk chair landed inches away from Matsumoto Jun’s head, much to his disgust (his face was far too important to be ruined by a chair).
In the middle of it all, Tegoshi and Massu had up until now, miraculously avoided having anything land in their cubicle. Massu had been struggling to find any topic of conversation that would keep the pair going for more than two exchanges, but still, he commented, “isn’t it amazing that -”
However, he didn’t have chance to finish, because as he was about to express his amazement that they had managed to keep out of the war zone so far, a mug of cold coffee flew over the cubicle wall, and landed right in the middle of his head.
He stood up in shock and dismay as the coffee dripped over his hair, down his face and onto his clothes. “Hey!” he shouted over the cubicle. “You just ruined my clothes...”
“You know, coffee is pretty good for your hair,” Tegoshi commented, the first thing he’d offered since their last failed conversation an hour before.
-------
Dear all,
Where did you last see or leave your coffee mug? If you left it in the dishwasher, then by now it is probably happily sitting in the cupboard waiting for its next outing. If, however, you left it half empty on the reception desk or in the empty cubicle in the corner or even in a toilet cubicle, then I regret to inform you that it has evolved and we’re all about to be killed in an evil-mug related invasion.
… Well, actually, a couple of us just gathered them up and put them in the dishwasher for you and it was disgusting and guys, seriously, there was green stuff and dead bugs and just... ew. But THINK ABOUT IT. One day you could be sitting happily answering calls and you could be attacked by a giant evolved evil mug trying to take over the world with its evil mug friends. And you don’t want that to happen, do you?
Save the world. Wash your dishes.
Thank you for listening.
Regards,
Yokoyama Yu.
-------
“Oh my god!” a voice squealed, echoing out throughout the building. It was getting close to 4pm, when the final shift arrived. Yasuda Shota was an aspiring fashion designer who was working part time for the company, and today happened to be his birthday.
His cubicle had been filled from top to bottom with sparkles and balloons and banners and all the kinds of things an over the top birthday celebration should have, and Yasu’s eyes were on stalks as he surveyed the display. “You guys, you’re all so amazing...” he spoke, although everyone was too busy working to hear. A few tears appeared in the corner of his eyes.
In the middle of his desk was a gift wrapped up in blue with ribbons and more sparkles, and he practically leapt towards it, tearing the paper off like he was a dog, and looking excitedly at what was inside. He pulled the tissue paper from the box inside and underneath was an outfit that Yasu quickly realised was a maid costume. Attached to the skirt, was a little tag, which he pulled off and read.
Meet me in the bathrooms in twenty minutes wearing this. Subaru.
Yasu wondered if Subaru was perhaps mistaking him for Tegoshi, but he went along all the same.
-------
“Your engineer came round to my house to fix our cable, and ended up having sex with my wife! This has ruined our family! RUINED. We have three children! Think of the children. How will this effect them? We’ve been happily married for thirty years. Your engineer has ruined my life! YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE COMPANY SHOULD BE PUNISHED. PUNISHED!” a customer was ranting down the phone to Junno, and beginning to get so emotional he was almost in tears. Junno’s usual happy smile and never ending patience and empathy was beginning to show signs of cracking and he looked on the verge of tears himself. This man’s life was ruined and he Junno wondered why he wanted to punish him when all he’d done was answer the phone.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he spoke in a choked tone, entirely unsure what he could say or do. “Let me find out what we can do for you,” he decided, and put the call on hold. He stared at the call, his eyes sparkling with tears, tears which suddenly let loose from his eyes and left him a sobbing wreck with his head in his hands against the desk.
Next door, Tanaka Koki, a phone to his ear, listened to the hold music, and sniggered, wondering how Junno could possibly not recognise his voice.
-------
Takizawa peeked his head around the door about half an hour before Massu’s first shift was due to end. “Masuda,” he spoke, and tossed an ID card at him. Massu caught it clumsily between his fingers and looked down at it.
“... This isn’t me.”
“It isn’t?”
“It says ‘Uchi Hiroki’.
“We like to recycle the IDs of people we fire.”
“But this isn’t me,” Massu repeated, blinking a little.
Takizawa gave a deep sigh, and took the card back from Massu, borrowing a tube of white-out from Tegoshi’s draw, and erasing the name before replacing it with Massu’s name and handing it back.
“You spelt my name wrong. And that picture isn’t me...”
Takizawa took the ID again, and used the white-out once more on the photograph on the card, before replacing it with a crude stick figure drawing with bright red hair. “There, perfect.”
Massu decided it really wasn’t worth arguing any more and hung the ID around his neck.
“By the way,” Takizawa added as he turned to leave the cubicle. “That ID will allow you to get in but won’t allow you to get out. When you want to leave, come and see a manager and we’ll decide if you can go or not,” he explained. Massu suddenly felt like he might never get out alive.
-------
“YES IT’S HOME TIME! LETS GO PARTY, EVERYONE.”
Yamashita Tomohisa dashed out of the office’s shower room dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist, hair soaking wet, and began to strut down the corridors between the cubicles, as if he were dancing to some music that only he could hear.
“Yamashita, put some clothes on,” Yoko complained from in his cubicle; not that he was jealous or anything, despite that he had been on four different diets this year and still couldn’t lose any weight.
“So, are you all coming to party?” Yamashita asked, peeking into each cubicle on his way past, adding to his dancing by beatboxing and nodding his head as he
The cries from the cubicles were a resounding “NO”.
“You’ll regret it~” Yamashita told them in a sing-song tone, but no one was really listening. “Are you all sure?” he asked, and was met with silence once again. “Okay, then I guess I’ll go PARTY~~ on my own then,” he shouted extra loudly, and continued down the corridor to his own cubicle still dancing to the silent beat in his head.
“YAMASHITA, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON.”
-------
“Tegoshi-san,” Massu spoke to his trainer as the clock hit 5pm, his finishing time, and he bowed to the other. “Thank you very much for today. It’s been very... informative.”
Tegoshi was facing the computer, looking up reports about the soccer match he had been watching on the internet, and wasn’t really paying attention to anything Massu was saying.
“Also,” Massu added, and a blush crept up his cheeks. “I think I’m in love with you.”
“Okay,” Tegoshi replied, his eyes scanning the text on the webpage he was looking at. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-------
Dear all,
ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO PARTY?
Regards,
Yamashita Tomohisa.
(your one in a million).
-------
“On reflection, I’ve decided that I don’t wish to take the job. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I don’t feel like it’s really for me,” Massu told Takizawa over the phone the following morning. He was planning on heading to the pharmacy later that day to pick up a pregnancy test, but he wanted to get this conversation out of the way first.
Takizawa leaned back in his seat, and gave a nod, despite that Massu couldn’t actually see him. “I understand, it’s not for everyone,” he told him. “Thank you for calling me and letting me know,” he told him gratefully, and then he hung up the phone.
“Tatsuya!” Takizawa called, and a moment later, Ueda appeared in the door of his cubicle. “I want you to visit Masuda Takahisa at home and teach him what we do with quitters.”
“Yes sir,” Ueda replied obediently as a slightly sadistic smile curved the corners of his lips.
Just as Ueda was about to turn and leave, Takizawa stopped him and asked, “by the way, have you seen Yamashita today?”
“In his cubicle, sir. Under the desk, asleep, surrounded by beer cans. Someone stole his clothes so he couldn’t leave and decided to party in here instead.”
“Guys!” a voice was suddenly heard, slightly hoarse with tiredness. It seemed Yamashita has emerged from his sleep. “Is the room spinning or is it just me?” he asked, and suddenly there was a screech.
“YAMASHITA PUT SOME CLOTHES ON.”
-------
Massu, sporting a black eye, sat on the side of his bath, holding a thin stick in one hand. He’d picked up the pregnancy test just after Ueda Tatsuya had paid him a rather violent visit, and was waiting for the results. The minutes he had to wait were seeming to take hours, and as the clock finally hit the end time, he cautiously turned over the test, and glanced at the result displayed on it.
“Oh my god,” he spoke out loud, staring down at the test in horror. “They weren’t lying!”
-------
"Yes, Takizawa-san. I heard you are looking for new staff and I was wondering if it would be possible to come for an interview."
"Of course! Can I take your name?"
"Akanishi Jin."
"America didn't work out then?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
-------
"No, seriously guys, I think the room is spinning."
"YAMASHITA. PUT. SOME. CLOTHES ON."
-------
Your call is important to us. Unless you are a disgruntled ex-employee, or the person who told our best agent to go and jump off a cliff. If you are not in either of those categories, please continue to hold and we will answer your call as soon as possible.