#55: fic: I Like You, But I Don't Think It's Working Out
Title: I Like You, But I Don’t Think It’s Working Out
Rating: G
Summary: This conversation could not have been happening.
Word Count: 3,100~
A/N: This is for ludingji, for the fandom fundraiser on arashi_on. She requested a continuation of this Untitled Office AU. Thank you for your generous donation; I hope you enjoy this. ♥ Thank you illuvium for looking through this.
“I like you,” said Jun over the phone, “but I don’t think it’s working out.”
This conversation could not have been happening. But it was. It was happening, and Nino could do nothing about it because he was in an office in Los Angeles, due to give a presentation to the CEO of a major corporation in ten minutes.
“Can we talk about this later?” said Nino. It might have just been the elevator journey, but he felt like throwing up.
“No,” said Jun. He wasn’t using his exasperated tone of voice, now; there was a softer edge to it. Gentler.
Jun had never been gentle when it came to conversing with Nino.
“We’ll talk about this later,” said Nino.
“No,” Jun repeated. “I’ve thought about it and I think it’s best we stayed colleagues.” He paused here for a moment like he was reconsidering his word choice. “Or friends,” he added, as a concession.
“Jun-pon,” said Nino desperately, “Jun-tan. Junnosuke.”
Jun sighed. “Yes?”
“Please reconsider this,” Nino told him. It was hard not to sound like he was begging. Nino didn’t even make an effort. “Please.”
“Ninomiya-san,” said Jun, his voice steeled as if to deal the final blow, “please understand. It’s not as if we were really dating in the first place.”
---
“And that was it,” said Sho.
“Yes,” said Nino. “And that was it.”
“And then you went in and gave the presentation,” said Sho. “Didn’t you?”
“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Nino snapped.
“Well, someone has to be concerned about it,” said Sho, “since you clearly were not.”
“They postponed it,” Nino told him. “They postponed it, mind you, not me.”
Nino had been seriously considering bursting out through the glass window of the fifty-first floor office and crashing to a spectacular death on the street below. Before he could devise a way to break the glass in the first place, though, a secretary had hurried over to inform him that there were minor delays in Mr. Eastwood’s schedule and could they reschedule the meeting till tomorrow?
“No,” Nino had said, in English.
“Sorry?” the secretary had asked, looking rather surprised.
“Yes?” Nino tried again. “I don’t speak English very well when I’m contemplating suicide,” he explained in Japanese.
He must have looked rather visibly wretched at that point, because she brought him to the office pantry and proceeded to foist a cup of coffee and a walnut muffin on him.
“I know he’s my subordinate and I really do like him,” Sho was still saying over the phone, “but breaking up over the phone is never a good move.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” said Nino. “He said we weren’t dating in the first place.”
“Maybe you were too clingy,” Sho offered.
“Clingy?” Nino repeated, in tones of outrage. “I never clung. Only pursued him relentlessly and developed the software for a revolutionary holographic cellphone just so he would go out to lunch with me.”
“Yes,” said Sho patiently. “I see.”
“It was holographic, Sho-chan. And I bought him Pocky. And overpriced soba,” said Nino. “I even gave him my favourite poncho.”
“To be fair,” said Sho, “all of this was unsolicited.”
“I hate that you are so calm and rational,” said Nino.
“Well,” said Sho, with slight weariness, “one of us has to be. Look. Give the presentation, and come home. I want you back at the office in one piece. Do you hear me?”
“I am already in pieces,” said Nino, slumping down on his hotel room bed.
“Okay then I just want you back in the office,” said Sho. “And take a shower.”
---
In a move of great strategic brilliance, Sho sent Ohno to pick Nino up at the airport.
Ohno had been Nino’s favourite person in the office long before Nino had even known that Jun existed. Nino liked Ohno’s origami animals and his well-ordered paperclip collection. He liked the way Ohno listened to him and laughed at his jokes. He also liked Ohno’s hugs, which were always warm and snuffly and Ohno-y.
When Nino emerged through the arrivals gate the first thing he saw was Ohno holding a company airport sign that said, CHEER UP, NINO in handwriting that looked suspiciously like Aiba’s.
“Welcome back, Nino-chan,” said Ohno. He held out a handful of jelly sweets. “These are for you. I ate some of them, though.”
“I want a hug,” said Nino.
“I thought you might,” Ohno replied readily, and wrapped his arms around Nino.
“Thank you,” said Nino, burying his face in Ohno’s shoulder.
Ohno’s stomach rumbled. “Oops,” he said. “Want to get some ramen?”
---
The presentation had gone really well, it turned out. They were on their way to signing a major deal that would involve their phone appearing in very prominent places over the next year.
Nino wasn’t around to witness the results of their success. Instead, he filed a request for a fortnight’s leave and resolved to spend every moment of it wrapped in a pile of blankets, shooting video game bosses to death.
Three days, twenty-seven missed calls and eleven text messages later, someone rang his doorbell.
Nino was quite prepared to hide under his blankets and pretend he wasn’t in until that person went away. It appeared, however, that said individual was wise to his strategy.
The bell kept ringing. After about a minute, it began ringing in a rather complex rhythm. Three minutes later, there was ringing and knocking at the same time.
Only one person would have the tenacity and perseverance to do something like that.
“Aiba,” said Nino, flinging open the door. “Please stop.”
“There’s someone on the phone for you,” said Aiba, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the prototype model of their cellphone.
It was Jun’s face, hovering slightly off the screen. “Hello,” said Jun. “You do realise that under the company guidelines, ‘heartbreak and despair’ is not a valid reason for an application of leave?”
“What?” said Nino.
“I’d have put down ‘holiday’ instead. It’s much simpler to write and much simpler to process,” said Jun. “Sometimes you’re too honest about these things.”
They would have to do something about the slight bug in the top projection, thought Nino. Jun’s eyebrows were almost frighteningly pronounced in the hologram.
“What I meant to say,” said Jun, looking very uncomfortable, “is please come back to work. …and I’m sorry I had to tell you that over the phone. Sakurai-san said that international calls make voices sound a lot harsher.”
“He’s right,” Aiba interjected, “they do.”
“Stop wallowing in self-pity, Ninomiya-san,” said Jun, giving him a look that was supposed to be comforting. “It’s not attractive.”
“Okay,” said Aiba, after a pause. “Now that was kind of harsh.”
---
The general atmosphere of self-congratulation and joy at the office meant that Nino’s unauthorised three-day absence was easily waved off as a mini break. The downside to this was that, amidst the regular alcohol-filled celebrations and open-invitation parties, it was far easier to feel ten times as depressed and isolated.
“Just so you’re aware,” said Aiba, appearing at the door to Nino’s office, “I’ve placed a blanket ban on Namie Amuro being played in the office.”
“Are you even allowed to do that?” snapped Nino. “And look,” he added, gesturing violently towards his computer screen, “I’m not wallowing; I’m working.”
“No you’re not,” said Aiba astutely. “You’re playing Sushi Cat.”
“It’s called research,” Nino replied.
“Nice try,” said Aiba, in a tone he had clearly attempted to pick up from Sho. “Do you want me to ask Matsujun-kun exactly why he rejected you?”
“I like how you’re really making an effort to be tactful here,” said Nino.
“Seriously,” Aiba said, “I would ask.”
“I know you would,” Nino replied, “and that’s what terrifies me.”
---
It was only on the following Tuesday that Nino decided to opt for the direct approach.
“Jun-san,” said Nino, the moment Jun answered the phone, “why did you reject me?”
“Um, Nino?”
That was not Jun.
“I think you’ve dialled the wrong extension number,” said Sho.
“Oh,” said Nino. At least he hadn’t called Akanishi by accident. That would have been mortifying.
“Though I think you should reconsider using the word ‘reject’,” Sho continued. “And maybe talk to him face to face.”
---
“Would ‘refuse’ be a better word than ‘reject’, then?” asked Nino twenty minutes later, after hitting Sho’s quick dial button on the phone.
“What?”
It was Jun.
“If you’re looking for Sakurai-san his extension ends with a six not a nine,” Jun told Nino. “And I don’t see a substantial difference between either word.”
“Yes, I did dial the wrong extension number,” said Nino. “And thank you for your input.”
“No problem,” Jun replied. “Ninomiya-san…”
“Yes?” asked Nino, hoping that he wasn’t imagining that distinct note of emotion in Jun’s voice.
“Do you have anything to do with the fact that all the fifth floor hand dryers now smell faintly of curry?”
“Oh,” said Nino, disappointed enough that he forgot he was supposed to be covering up for his department. “That was Aiba’s monthly challenge to the Design department. This time it was creative things to do with curry powder. Nishikido decided that curry-flavoured hand dryers would be the way to go.”
“Ah,” said Jun, evidently unimpressed. “I don’t suppose you participated?”
“Curry coffee,” Nino replied. “Not particularly inspired, but every cup was like a punch in the face.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Jun.
“Jun-san,” said Nino.
“Yes?”
“Why did you reject me?”
There was an uncomfortable pause in which Jun took a deep breath. “Well,” he said, finally. “I’d like to say that it was because I don’t like you, but that’s not true.”
“Okay,” said Nino.
“It’s more… ambivalence, than anything else,” Jun continued. “But that’s how I feel about most people.”
“That’s very nice,” said Nino dryly. “I’m glad I inspire such middling emotion.”
“To be honest,” said Jun, “I don’t actually know you. Moments after the first time we met you started creepily pursuing me.”
“Oh,” said Nino.
“And it’s really to your credit that I’ve come out of this feeling… ambivalent,” said Jun. “I don’t think anyone else as creepy as you could have managed to be so un-dislikeable at the same time.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a word,” said Nino, “but I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“…will you be all right?” asked Jun, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Not really,” said Nino, completely honestly, “but I’ll survive. Probably. Maybe.”
“Okay,” said Jun.
“Actually I’m not sure at all,” said Nino. “But it’s not like you can do very much about it, so I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.”
---
“Give him points for being honest,” said Sho. “And for not leading you on.” He was eating a sandwich that looked very eggy and very organic. Nino didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was a bit of vegetable stuck between his teeth.
“Could you please, for once, attempt not to be so painfully rational?” asked Nino. “For my sake.”
“I am very irrational about many things,” Sho pointed out reasonably. “Most of them involve heights or dangerous animals.”
“And elastic rubber bands,” Nino added. “You get so squeamish during meetings when there are elastic rubber bands.”
“That’s because you kept snapping them and using them to pick up bits of dirt,” said Sho, with a shudder. “Ugh.”
“Your discomfort never fails to make me feel better,” Nino told Sho.
“Glad to be of help,” said Sho. “Now please go away and leave me in peace.”
“You have rocket in your teeth,” said Nino, stealing a cherry tomato from Sho’s lunchbox before rising to leave. “Just a heads up before you go for that department meeting.”
---
“So the conclusion is that you’re emotionally stunted,” said Aiba. “And creepy.”
“Ah, yes, Masaki,” said Nino, not bothering to look up from his computer screen, “direct as always.”
“Sho-chan told me everything,” said Aiba. “And I’m here for you.”
“Thank you for your kind intentions,” Nino told Aiba, “but I’m perfectly all right.”
“Well, if you are, then we have something else to say to you,” Aiba replied.
Nino sighed. “Yes?”
“Curry flavoured coffee?” demanded Nishikido Ryo with great incredulity.
“Oh, you,” said Nino dully.
Nishikido rolled his eyes. “What do you think this is? The Procurement Department?”
“I’m not in top form,” Nino gritted out.
“We can see that,” said Yokoyama, sidling into Nino’s office to stand beside Aiba. It appeared that the rest of the department was gathering behind them.
“I’m sorry Nino-chan,” said Aiba. “I made excuses for you but they weren’t having it.”
“We designed a pioneering scent ejector, for goodness’ sake,” said Nishikido. “We might even put it in the new model.”
“Congratulations,” said Nino, privately thinking that Nishikido had become twice as insufferable after being promoted to Aiba’s previous position. “Good luck with a curry-flavoured cell phone.”
“I don’t think you understand,” said Yokoyama, sadly and dramatically. “We’re not going to let this slide.”
“I’m your chief software engineer,” said Nino, looking calmly up at the mob assembled at the entrance to his office. “What are you going to do?”
---
“Well,” said Nino. “This is inconvenient.”
He was hanging upside down from the scaffolding set up against the side of the company building. Someone was doing some painting work outside the second-storey windows but they seemed to have gone on a lunch break. An extended lunch break.
Perhaps they’d been paid off. He wouldn’t put it past Nishikido and the rest.
The straps of the harness around his waist were digging uncomfortably into his skin, but at least he had not gone crashing to the ground.
It could have been worse, Nino thought. It could definitely have been worse. Someone would probably come by and help him down soon. At least it wasn’t raining.
There was a flash of lightning. It started to rain.
“Very nice,” Nino groaned, flailing his arms uselessly for a few moments before settling for swinging idly and waiting for rescue.
His pocket was vibrating.
“Hadn’t thought of that,” Nino mumbled, fumbling to get his cellphone. “ANSWER,” he said, putting the phone’s voice recognition technology to good use. “Um, SPEAKERPHONE?”
“Hello?” It was Jun. “Where are you?” he asked. “I need you fill out your equipment satisfaction survey. It’s overdue by two months.”
“It’s a bit of a bad time right now, really,” said Nino, attempting to curl his body such that he was closer to the phone. He was starting to regret drinking quite so many beers and refusing to join Sho for those Spartan jogs every morning.
“Is that the rain?” Jun demanded. “What on earth are you doing out in the rain?”
“I’m not doing anything, per se,” said Nino miserably. “More just… dangling. From scaffolding. And in need of some rescuing.”
Jun said something under his breath at that point that sounded like a bad word.
It took Jun exactly eleven minutes to race down from the eighth floor to the scaffolding set up against the side of the west annex. By this time Nino was feeling rather faint and wholly miserable. Every now and then he had to writhe around rather pathetically so that he wouldn’t drown from the rainwater running up his nose.
Jun was holding an umbrella and talking rather agitatedly on the phone with someone else.
“There you are,” he said, when he caught sight of Nino. “Maintenance should be coming to cut you down soon.”
“Thanks,” said Nino. He was aware of how sad he must have appeared to Jun: completely drenched, blinking rainwater out of his eyes and making gulping noises now and then.
“I’ll just try to-” Jun began, attempting to shield Nino in some way with his umbrella. The length of the rope and the particular position the others had fastened it at meant that Nino face was at the same level as Jun’s.
“That just concentrates the water flow towards my neck,” said Nino, as Jun attempted to hold the umbrella over Nino’s head.
“Sorry,” said Jun, and, in a rare moment of impulsivity, cast aside the umbrella.
Now his face was so close, so close and Nino watched the way the raindrops trickled down (up) his skin, how it dripped off the tip of his nose.
“Do you know what I have an urge to do?” said Jun with an odd expression, studying Nino’s face.
“What?” asked Nino, heartbeat pounding in his head.
“I really…” said Jun. He swallowed; looked slightly uncomfortable. Then he took a deep breath. “I really want to draw on your face with a marker.”
“WHAT?” Nino exploded. “I’m hanging here upside down with rainwater in my eyes and blood rushing to my head and that’s what you want to do to me?”
Jun was trying very hard to keep his face impassive but a laugh exploded forth anyway. “I’m sorry, it’s just funny,” he said.
“Thanks a lot,” said Nino huffily. “You do know that you’re the reason why I’m strung up here like this in the first place?”
“I don’t see how I could be,” said Jun. “It’s not as if I ordered them to dangle you from scaffolding.”
“That cup of curry coffee I delivered to Aiba,” said Nino. “It was a watered-down version of my original plan to replace all the grounds in the coffee machines with curry.”
“That would have been horrific,” said Jun, with disgust.
“Precisely,” said Nino. “I knew you’d think so. Even though it’s the most amazing idea in the world.”
“I knew you’d think so,” said Jun. “…Thank you, for being considerate for once.”
“I’m always considerate,” said Nino.
“You’re also humble and never lie,” said Jun.
“Point,” said Nino, grinning.
It was at this point that they were interrupted by the arrival of two of the maintenance guys, who didn’t seem particularly sympathetic to Nino’s plight. Perhaps it was the danger signs prank, Nino thought. Or the batman logos on every other window last year.
“Grab hold of him!” called one more from the second floor window, where he was climbing out onto the scaffolding with a harness of his own.
“Thank you,” said Nino, when they had cut him down. He looked directly at Jun as he said this.
“Not a problem,” said Jun, equally soaked by now but making no move to pick up his umbrella. “As long as you get that survey done.”
---
Two days later, Nino hit the mislabelled quick dial button on his phone again.
“I may have lost my copy of the survey,” he said. “Maybe we can meet up over coffee and you can pass me a new one.”
“Nice try,” Jun replied. “But it’s electronic.”
“Well, then,” said Nino, “free coffee? From rescuee to rescuer? Or maybe just to have a quick chat about how satisfied I am with the ergonomic chairs? Those little one-to-ten scales aren’t expansive enough.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Nino heard the unusual, altogether delightful sound of Jun chuckling.
“I might be amenable to that.”
End
Rating: G
Summary: This conversation could not have been happening.
Word Count: 3,100~
A/N: This is for ludingji, for the fandom fundraiser on arashi_on. She requested a continuation of this Untitled Office AU. Thank you for your generous donation; I hope you enjoy this. ♥ Thank you illuvium for looking through this.
“I like you,” said Jun over the phone, “but I don’t think it’s working out.”
This conversation could not have been happening. But it was. It was happening, and Nino could do nothing about it because he was in an office in Los Angeles, due to give a presentation to the CEO of a major corporation in ten minutes.
“Can we talk about this later?” said Nino. It might have just been the elevator journey, but he felt like throwing up.
“No,” said Jun. He wasn’t using his exasperated tone of voice, now; there was a softer edge to it. Gentler.
Jun had never been gentle when it came to conversing with Nino.
“We’ll talk about this later,” said Nino.
“No,” Jun repeated. “I’ve thought about it and I think it’s best we stayed colleagues.” He paused here for a moment like he was reconsidering his word choice. “Or friends,” he added, as a concession.
“Jun-pon,” said Nino desperately, “Jun-tan. Junnosuke.”
Jun sighed. “Yes?”
“Please reconsider this,” Nino told him. It was hard not to sound like he was begging. Nino didn’t even make an effort. “Please.”
“Ninomiya-san,” said Jun, his voice steeled as if to deal the final blow, “please understand. It’s not as if we were really dating in the first place.”
---
“And that was it,” said Sho.
“Yes,” said Nino. “And that was it.”
“And then you went in and gave the presentation,” said Sho. “Didn’t you?”
“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Nino snapped.
“Well, someone has to be concerned about it,” said Sho, “since you clearly were not.”
“They postponed it,” Nino told him. “They postponed it, mind you, not me.”
Nino had been seriously considering bursting out through the glass window of the fifty-first floor office and crashing to a spectacular death on the street below. Before he could devise a way to break the glass in the first place, though, a secretary had hurried over to inform him that there were minor delays in Mr. Eastwood’s schedule and could they reschedule the meeting till tomorrow?
“No,” Nino had said, in English.
“Sorry?” the secretary had asked, looking rather surprised.
“Yes?” Nino tried again. “I don’t speak English very well when I’m contemplating suicide,” he explained in Japanese.
He must have looked rather visibly wretched at that point, because she brought him to the office pantry and proceeded to foist a cup of coffee and a walnut muffin on him.
“I know he’s my subordinate and I really do like him,” Sho was still saying over the phone, “but breaking up over the phone is never a good move.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” said Nino. “He said we weren’t dating in the first place.”
“Maybe you were too clingy,” Sho offered.
“Clingy?” Nino repeated, in tones of outrage. “I never clung. Only pursued him relentlessly and developed the software for a revolutionary holographic cellphone just so he would go out to lunch with me.”
“Yes,” said Sho patiently. “I see.”
“It was holographic, Sho-chan. And I bought him Pocky. And overpriced soba,” said Nino. “I even gave him my favourite poncho.”
“To be fair,” said Sho, “all of this was unsolicited.”
“I hate that you are so calm and rational,” said Nino.
“Well,” said Sho, with slight weariness, “one of us has to be. Look. Give the presentation, and come home. I want you back at the office in one piece. Do you hear me?”
“I am already in pieces,” said Nino, slumping down on his hotel room bed.
“Okay then I just want you back in the office,” said Sho. “And take a shower.”
---
In a move of great strategic brilliance, Sho sent Ohno to pick Nino up at the airport.
Ohno had been Nino’s favourite person in the office long before Nino had even known that Jun existed. Nino liked Ohno’s origami animals and his well-ordered paperclip collection. He liked the way Ohno listened to him and laughed at his jokes. He also liked Ohno’s hugs, which were always warm and snuffly and Ohno-y.
When Nino emerged through the arrivals gate the first thing he saw was Ohno holding a company airport sign that said, CHEER UP, NINO in handwriting that looked suspiciously like Aiba’s.
“Welcome back, Nino-chan,” said Ohno. He held out a handful of jelly sweets. “These are for you. I ate some of them, though.”
“I want a hug,” said Nino.
“I thought you might,” Ohno replied readily, and wrapped his arms around Nino.
“Thank you,” said Nino, burying his face in Ohno’s shoulder.
Ohno’s stomach rumbled. “Oops,” he said. “Want to get some ramen?”
---
The presentation had gone really well, it turned out. They were on their way to signing a major deal that would involve their phone appearing in very prominent places over the next year.
Nino wasn’t around to witness the results of their success. Instead, he filed a request for a fortnight’s leave and resolved to spend every moment of it wrapped in a pile of blankets, shooting video game bosses to death.
Three days, twenty-seven missed calls and eleven text messages later, someone rang his doorbell.
Nino was quite prepared to hide under his blankets and pretend he wasn’t in until that person went away. It appeared, however, that said individual was wise to his strategy.
The bell kept ringing. After about a minute, it began ringing in a rather complex rhythm. Three minutes later, there was ringing and knocking at the same time.
Only one person would have the tenacity and perseverance to do something like that.
“Aiba,” said Nino, flinging open the door. “Please stop.”
“There’s someone on the phone for you,” said Aiba, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the prototype model of their cellphone.
It was Jun’s face, hovering slightly off the screen. “Hello,” said Jun. “You do realise that under the company guidelines, ‘heartbreak and despair’ is not a valid reason for an application of leave?”
“What?” said Nino.
“I’d have put down ‘holiday’ instead. It’s much simpler to write and much simpler to process,” said Jun. “Sometimes you’re too honest about these things.”
They would have to do something about the slight bug in the top projection, thought Nino. Jun’s eyebrows were almost frighteningly pronounced in the hologram.
“What I meant to say,” said Jun, looking very uncomfortable, “is please come back to work. …and I’m sorry I had to tell you that over the phone. Sakurai-san said that international calls make voices sound a lot harsher.”
“He’s right,” Aiba interjected, “they do.”
“Stop wallowing in self-pity, Ninomiya-san,” said Jun, giving him a look that was supposed to be comforting. “It’s not attractive.”
“Okay,” said Aiba, after a pause. “Now that was kind of harsh.”
---
The general atmosphere of self-congratulation and joy at the office meant that Nino’s unauthorised three-day absence was easily waved off as a mini break. The downside to this was that, amidst the regular alcohol-filled celebrations and open-invitation parties, it was far easier to feel ten times as depressed and isolated.
“Just so you’re aware,” said Aiba, appearing at the door to Nino’s office, “I’ve placed a blanket ban on Namie Amuro being played in the office.”
“Are you even allowed to do that?” snapped Nino. “And look,” he added, gesturing violently towards his computer screen, “I’m not wallowing; I’m working.”
“No you’re not,” said Aiba astutely. “You’re playing Sushi Cat.”
“It’s called research,” Nino replied.
“Nice try,” said Aiba, in a tone he had clearly attempted to pick up from Sho. “Do you want me to ask Matsujun-kun exactly why he rejected you?”
“I like how you’re really making an effort to be tactful here,” said Nino.
“Seriously,” Aiba said, “I would ask.”
“I know you would,” Nino replied, “and that’s what terrifies me.”
---
It was only on the following Tuesday that Nino decided to opt for the direct approach.
“Jun-san,” said Nino, the moment Jun answered the phone, “why did you reject me?”
“Um, Nino?”
That was not Jun.
“I think you’ve dialled the wrong extension number,” said Sho.
“Oh,” said Nino. At least he hadn’t called Akanishi by accident. That would have been mortifying.
“Though I think you should reconsider using the word ‘reject’,” Sho continued. “And maybe talk to him face to face.”
---
“Would ‘refuse’ be a better word than ‘reject’, then?” asked Nino twenty minutes later, after hitting Sho’s quick dial button on the phone.
“What?”
It was Jun.
“If you’re looking for Sakurai-san his extension ends with a six not a nine,” Jun told Nino. “And I don’t see a substantial difference between either word.”
“Yes, I did dial the wrong extension number,” said Nino. “And thank you for your input.”
“No problem,” Jun replied. “Ninomiya-san…”
“Yes?” asked Nino, hoping that he wasn’t imagining that distinct note of emotion in Jun’s voice.
“Do you have anything to do with the fact that all the fifth floor hand dryers now smell faintly of curry?”
“Oh,” said Nino, disappointed enough that he forgot he was supposed to be covering up for his department. “That was Aiba’s monthly challenge to the Design department. This time it was creative things to do with curry powder. Nishikido decided that curry-flavoured hand dryers would be the way to go.”
“Ah,” said Jun, evidently unimpressed. “I don’t suppose you participated?”
“Curry coffee,” Nino replied. “Not particularly inspired, but every cup was like a punch in the face.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Jun.
“Jun-san,” said Nino.
“Yes?”
“Why did you reject me?”
There was an uncomfortable pause in which Jun took a deep breath. “Well,” he said, finally. “I’d like to say that it was because I don’t like you, but that’s not true.”
“Okay,” said Nino.
“It’s more… ambivalence, than anything else,” Jun continued. “But that’s how I feel about most people.”
“That’s very nice,” said Nino dryly. “I’m glad I inspire such middling emotion.”
“To be honest,” said Jun, “I don’t actually know you. Moments after the first time we met you started creepily pursuing me.”
“Oh,” said Nino.
“And it’s really to your credit that I’ve come out of this feeling… ambivalent,” said Jun. “I don’t think anyone else as creepy as you could have managed to be so un-dislikeable at the same time.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a word,” said Nino, “but I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“…will you be all right?” asked Jun, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Not really,” said Nino, completely honestly, “but I’ll survive. Probably. Maybe.”
“Okay,” said Jun.
“Actually I’m not sure at all,” said Nino. “But it’s not like you can do very much about it, so I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.”
---
“Give him points for being honest,” said Sho. “And for not leading you on.” He was eating a sandwich that looked very eggy and very organic. Nino didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was a bit of vegetable stuck between his teeth.
“Could you please, for once, attempt not to be so painfully rational?” asked Nino. “For my sake.”
“I am very irrational about many things,” Sho pointed out reasonably. “Most of them involve heights or dangerous animals.”
“And elastic rubber bands,” Nino added. “You get so squeamish during meetings when there are elastic rubber bands.”
“That’s because you kept snapping them and using them to pick up bits of dirt,” said Sho, with a shudder. “Ugh.”
“Your discomfort never fails to make me feel better,” Nino told Sho.
“Glad to be of help,” said Sho. “Now please go away and leave me in peace.”
“You have rocket in your teeth,” said Nino, stealing a cherry tomato from Sho’s lunchbox before rising to leave. “Just a heads up before you go for that department meeting.”
---
“So the conclusion is that you’re emotionally stunted,” said Aiba. “And creepy.”
“Ah, yes, Masaki,” said Nino, not bothering to look up from his computer screen, “direct as always.”
“Sho-chan told me everything,” said Aiba. “And I’m here for you.”
“Thank you for your kind intentions,” Nino told Aiba, “but I’m perfectly all right.”
“Well, if you are, then we have something else to say to you,” Aiba replied.
Nino sighed. “Yes?”
“Curry flavoured coffee?” demanded Nishikido Ryo with great incredulity.
“Oh, you,” said Nino dully.
Nishikido rolled his eyes. “What do you think this is? The Procurement Department?”
“I’m not in top form,” Nino gritted out.
“We can see that,” said Yokoyama, sidling into Nino’s office to stand beside Aiba. It appeared that the rest of the department was gathering behind them.
“I’m sorry Nino-chan,” said Aiba. “I made excuses for you but they weren’t having it.”
“We designed a pioneering scent ejector, for goodness’ sake,” said Nishikido. “We might even put it in the new model.”
“Congratulations,” said Nino, privately thinking that Nishikido had become twice as insufferable after being promoted to Aiba’s previous position. “Good luck with a curry-flavoured cell phone.”
“I don’t think you understand,” said Yokoyama, sadly and dramatically. “We’re not going to let this slide.”
“I’m your chief software engineer,” said Nino, looking calmly up at the mob assembled at the entrance to his office. “What are you going to do?”
---
“Well,” said Nino. “This is inconvenient.”
He was hanging upside down from the scaffolding set up against the side of the company building. Someone was doing some painting work outside the second-storey windows but they seemed to have gone on a lunch break. An extended lunch break.
Perhaps they’d been paid off. He wouldn’t put it past Nishikido and the rest.
The straps of the harness around his waist were digging uncomfortably into his skin, but at least he had not gone crashing to the ground.
It could have been worse, Nino thought. It could definitely have been worse. Someone would probably come by and help him down soon. At least it wasn’t raining.
There was a flash of lightning. It started to rain.
“Very nice,” Nino groaned, flailing his arms uselessly for a few moments before settling for swinging idly and waiting for rescue.
His pocket was vibrating.
“Hadn’t thought of that,” Nino mumbled, fumbling to get his cellphone. “ANSWER,” he said, putting the phone’s voice recognition technology to good use. “Um, SPEAKERPHONE?”
“Hello?” It was Jun. “Where are you?” he asked. “I need you fill out your equipment satisfaction survey. It’s overdue by two months.”
“It’s a bit of a bad time right now, really,” said Nino, attempting to curl his body such that he was closer to the phone. He was starting to regret drinking quite so many beers and refusing to join Sho for those Spartan jogs every morning.
“Is that the rain?” Jun demanded. “What on earth are you doing out in the rain?”
“I’m not doing anything, per se,” said Nino miserably. “More just… dangling. From scaffolding. And in need of some rescuing.”
Jun said something under his breath at that point that sounded like a bad word.
It took Jun exactly eleven minutes to race down from the eighth floor to the scaffolding set up against the side of the west annex. By this time Nino was feeling rather faint and wholly miserable. Every now and then he had to writhe around rather pathetically so that he wouldn’t drown from the rainwater running up his nose.
Jun was holding an umbrella and talking rather agitatedly on the phone with someone else.
“There you are,” he said, when he caught sight of Nino. “Maintenance should be coming to cut you down soon.”
“Thanks,” said Nino. He was aware of how sad he must have appeared to Jun: completely drenched, blinking rainwater out of his eyes and making gulping noises now and then.
“I’ll just try to-” Jun began, attempting to shield Nino in some way with his umbrella. The length of the rope and the particular position the others had fastened it at meant that Nino face was at the same level as Jun’s.
“That just concentrates the water flow towards my neck,” said Nino, as Jun attempted to hold the umbrella over Nino’s head.
“Sorry,” said Jun, and, in a rare moment of impulsivity, cast aside the umbrella.
Now his face was so close, so close and Nino watched the way the raindrops trickled down (up) his skin, how it dripped off the tip of his nose.
“Do you know what I have an urge to do?” said Jun with an odd expression, studying Nino’s face.
“What?” asked Nino, heartbeat pounding in his head.
“I really…” said Jun. He swallowed; looked slightly uncomfortable. Then he took a deep breath. “I really want to draw on your face with a marker.”
“WHAT?” Nino exploded. “I’m hanging here upside down with rainwater in my eyes and blood rushing to my head and that’s what you want to do to me?”
Jun was trying very hard to keep his face impassive but a laugh exploded forth anyway. “I’m sorry, it’s just funny,” he said.
“Thanks a lot,” said Nino huffily. “You do know that you’re the reason why I’m strung up here like this in the first place?”
“I don’t see how I could be,” said Jun. “It’s not as if I ordered them to dangle you from scaffolding.”
“That cup of curry coffee I delivered to Aiba,” said Nino. “It was a watered-down version of my original plan to replace all the grounds in the coffee machines with curry.”
“That would have been horrific,” said Jun, with disgust.
“Precisely,” said Nino. “I knew you’d think so. Even though it’s the most amazing idea in the world.”
“I knew you’d think so,” said Jun. “…Thank you, for being considerate for once.”
“I’m always considerate,” said Nino.
“You’re also humble and never lie,” said Jun.
“Point,” said Nino, grinning.
It was at this point that they were interrupted by the arrival of two of the maintenance guys, who didn’t seem particularly sympathetic to Nino’s plight. Perhaps it was the danger signs prank, Nino thought. Or the batman logos on every other window last year.
“Grab hold of him!” called one more from the second floor window, where he was climbing out onto the scaffolding with a harness of his own.
“Thank you,” said Nino, when they had cut him down. He looked directly at Jun as he said this.
“Not a problem,” said Jun, equally soaked by now but making no move to pick up his umbrella. “As long as you get that survey done.”
---
Two days later, Nino hit the mislabelled quick dial button on his phone again.
“I may have lost my copy of the survey,” he said. “Maybe we can meet up over coffee and you can pass me a new one.”
“Nice try,” Jun replied. “But it’s electronic.”
“Well, then,” said Nino, “free coffee? From rescuee to rescuer? Or maybe just to have a quick chat about how satisfied I am with the ergonomic chairs? Those little one-to-ten scales aren’t expansive enough.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Nino heard the unusual, altogether delightful sound of Jun chuckling.
“I might be amenable to that.”
End