Gloria Martinez: New Job & New Problems

No one has ever called you ungrateful, and you aren't going to have that start now!

You've been repeating that, among other familiar words of encouragement, since the day you started your new job at Arasaka.

It's not that you don't appreciate what that nice young man did, it's that you've been busy.

If it isn't your introductory training for your new job at the Tower, then it's socialising with your work colleagues and making sure you haven't neglected any of your responsibilities; the list of things to check-off outside of work hours is surprisingly long.

And, in your opinion, associating with the bigwigs doesn't usually end well for gals like you, especially in Arasaka. But you were raised right, and you'd be a hypocrite if you didn't follow the same teachings you gave David.

So, on the third day, during your too-short lunch break, you decided to thank that Yoshikage guy, and it wasn't hard to find out where he was.

He's a topic of hot gossip even among the medical staff, if only because he sabotaged the HR division's expresso machine, which then scalded a few people.

You're still not sure how he managed to do that; there were only three buttons on the thing, one for the power and the other two for caffeinated or decaffeinated.

Of course, the incident only added to his mystery when he never faced reprimand.

All the younger gals are busy gushing about his appearance, and even if you don't share the same level of appreciation, you nod and hum too.

Here you are now, feeling like a total gonk as you walk through Arasaka's HR, the eagle-eyes of suits piercing your uncomfortably stiff uniform as they wonder whether or not they have time to ruin your day.

Even the Security guys don't put you this much on edge.

You didn't need to knock 'cause the door was already propped open with a small bin, and unlike everyone else who was hard at work doing one thing or another, you knew exactly what Yoshikage Shiro was doing.

Well, what he wasn't doing, work.

His eyes shut, arms crossed over his chest, he leans back into his office chair. It's statue-like look, something out of the museums–utterly unmoving and all pale skin. High cheekbones, soft contours and moisturised lips press together in a very flat frown. The blue veins stood out like a sore, and alarming thumb.

You let out a loud and exaggerated cough–it's probably a bad idea to ogle the man. His eyes slowly open with some confusion before they catch sight of you and narrow for a second; he's trying to remember where he last saw you.

"Uhh... Gloria, right?"

His voice is drowsy, but he still maintains the careful enunciations you'd expect from a posh brat straight out of boarding school.

You nod your head, taking a few seconds to look around the unfurnished room.

Boxes of files, unplugged terminals and a broken cappuccino machine are the only signs that someone has ever used the space; his desk is barren of any decor or work item.

He's somehow removed the computer stand attached to his desk, with the screen now, with cables still attached, resting against the desk's side. Even you could tell that wasn't regulation, and you've only been here for little over a week.

What the hell is he doing?... On second thoughts, you don't want to know.

"Ah! So you got the job, I'm glad! Congratulations!"

He notes your uniform, flashing you a smile. He, apparently, is entirely oblivious to the fact that he accidentally got you the job.

"Aha, yeah; that's why I'm here; you really pulled my ass outta the fire for this one."

You're unsure how formal you should be with him. It's pretty clear he has friends or relatives higher up, but the geniality and warmth that exudes from his words would make you feel guilty if you started treating him like a stranger.

"Nevermind that! It's not like anyone here got their job from competence; I should know!"

You join his laughter, if a bit awkwardly, already deciding that your job here is done, and you should get out before you're dragged into the games of a bored princeling. Those stories usually don't end too well, at least the ones you've heard.

"Hah, I getcha, I gotta go now, so-"

"Let me make you some coffee at the very least! I've finally figured out where the capsules go!"

Ah, fuck.