lmfao if you were expecting me to go beyond the initial tweet you’ve officially been Disappointed
–
Hanzo Shimada is an intimidating man.
He kills with kindness. Occasionally Hanzo calls people into his office– his expensively furnished, floor-to-ceiling-window-view, big-desk-in-the middle office. He sits them down in one of his exceedingly uncomfortable chairs (surely a tactic of some kind, Jesse thinks), pours them a drink…
And fires them.
And Jesse has so many reasons to be fired.
Half his diet is fruit from the company-stocked fruit bowl; he turns in assignments that “creatively” fulfill their requirements; he browses his phone when his computer screen is loading the name of “dual productivity,” and sometimes he gets a little too friendly with his boss. Shimada has never said anything about that last one, but Jesse still gets nervous when Hanzo purposefully steps away from his playful advances.
And then there was the Incident last night.
Shimada is smiling, when Jesse sits down, his grin sharp as a shark in bloody waters.
“How is your work going today, Jesse?” Shimada’s back is to him at his little drink cart. He’s uncorking a decanter of something brown and smokey, and Jesse thinks that it might as well be arsenic, considering this is most likely the death of his career.
“Uh. Pretty good, Mister Shimada.” He flinches at the slight clink the the glass makes on the table.
Hanzo has poured it neat, just how Jesse takes it.
“Please, call me Hanzo,” he purrs. “Have a sip, Jesse. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” His eyes twinkle as he perches himself on the arm of couch adjacent to Jesse’s chair. “After all, It’s just us in here.”
Jesse sips nervously. It’s good bourbon, probably at least 15 years old. It tastes like ash on his tongue.
“Have you enjoyed your time at this company so far?”
Jesse quickly nods. “Very much. Love it. It’s. Uh. It’s…great.” He trails off. Where is this going?
“Because I’ve enjoyed your time here so far.” Hanzo’s hand settles on the edge of the arm of Jesse’s chair.
Is he trying to fake him out?
Jesse shifts in his seat, heart lodged in his throat. He’s sweating bullets now, liquor sloshing a little when his hand twitches nervously.
Hanzo leans in, tapping his finges in a line ever so close to Jesse’s arm.
“Do you know why I called you in here?”
Jesse takes a deep breath, then lets it out. Takes another. Steels himself.
“Is this because I accidentally sent you a dick pic last night?”
Hanzo freezes. His hand is millimeters from Jesse’s own.
“Accidentally?”
“I–yeah– sorry, shit, please don’t fire me–”
“You accidentally sent a photo of your penis to me with the subject ‘largest erection under construction in downtown.’”
Jesse sinks into his seat, hand smashed over his face as if he can shove all his shame back inside.
“It was supposed to be a photo for an article about recent city development.”
“…I see.” Hanzo’s hand has frozen on Jesse’s chair, so close Jesse can feel the little hairs on his forearm brushing up against Hanzo’s knuckles.
“Is there any way to make this less awkward?”
Hanzo pulls his hand away, inspecting his nails. Jesse suspects they are spotless and this is all for show. “I will let you keep your job on two conditions. One: please leave at least one orange in the fruit bowl now and then. They are my favorite.”
Jesse nods.
“And two…” Here Hanzo’s smile returns, searing in its intensity. “Next time you send me a dick pic, don’t apologize. And use a better angle.”
And then he sweeps out of his office (more for effect than anything, Jesse suspects) and leaves Jesse, flabbergasted, to deal with his secretary.
theclumsiestninja 