| [Mar. 26th, 2015|04:38 am] |
Shibata laughed, soft and hoarse. “Not at all. If I’m going to spend several hours in a place, I prefer the comforts to be genuine.” He shut the door with a click and moved to the interior chair, removing his leather coat and sitting down. The coat was folded over the chair arm. “My apologies for not meeting in my personal office. It’s just too cluttered; this is more pleasant.”
The head of T&I just apologized to me, Raidou thought. About an office.
He had no frame of reference for that.
“It’s not a problem, sir,” he tried. “May I, uh, sit?”
“Please make yourself comfortable, Namiashi-san.” Shibata gestured at the small table with a hand that looked like it had been dipped in melted, dappled plastic. “Would you like some tea or water before we begin?”
If I wanted to poison you, I would have laced the couch cushions.
“No, thank you, sir,” Raidou said, because when in doubt, manners, and he was in a lot of doubt right now. He sat down carefully on the remaining chair. It sank like a cloud under him. He gripped the arm to steady himself.
“I suppose it’s a little prideful of me to assume you know who I am, but you do, I’m sure,” Shibata said, as casual as if they were having a light business breakfast together.
“Shibata-sama, head of T&I,” Raidou said, dry-throated. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak to me, sir—” though I really would have been fine with Matsumoto, “—but didn’t you have, uh, anything better to do?”
And there went manners. Ume would have smacked him.
The non-scarred eyebrow arched. “Better? Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I’m fairly certain interviewing you is, in fact, the very best possible use of my morning, Namiashi-san.”
It felt like every single cell of Raidou’s body had just said ohgod to itself, very quietly.
He swallowed and said, “Exactly how much trouble am I in?”
“With me? So far very little. You arrived on time, were polite to my staff, and only vaguely insubordinate to me once.” Shibata picked up Raidou’s paperwork, along with another file stacked beneath it, and balanced them against his knee. He flipped through them, good eye scanning quickly but thoroughly over the text. For a brief moment, the folder tipped at enough of angle for Raidou to catch sight of the tabs inside it: Team Six’s names, their incident reports. Was that deliberate?
Shibata closed the files. “In general…” He shrugged and set the files aside, holding on to only one sheet of paper: the checklist. A single brown eye fixed Raidou with a clear gaze. “It takes a certain level of trouble to merit an interview with the head of department down here.” |
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