He was anxious.
He had been for hours. He was perspiring; his linen shirt was heavily dampened under the arms and around the collar, he was restless; forever fidgeting with his cuffs or silken hair and seemed to sigh every few minutes.
It was ever since she had appeared, that young woman, the one who had applied for the occupation of the Yotsuba spokesperson.
He smiled as he thought of her; she was certainly very attractive, yet Namikawa had spent practically everyday of his life having beautiful women wrapped around his finger, but he had never felt like this. Surely he was overworked. It definitely would not be the first time.
Namikawa gazed out of his office window; the city was dreary.
The gargantuan, grey buildings were complete duplications of the one next to it. The bitter September skies were overcast; amidst with both fog and smoke, the drizzle tapping gently upon the aging windowpane.
His eyes fell to the concrete car park just across from the building; his car, a silver Mitsuoka Orochi was parked; available to admire by all who strolled past. However, it appeared that everyone in Yotsuba had unrivalled sports cars.
In actual fact, it seemed she did not have a car at all. Every time she was required to arrive at the Yotsuba Corporation; she would either walk or take the bus.
Namikawa had even offered her a ride one morning after spotting her race down the road, drenched by an arctic downpour. She smiled, despite her obvious quivering, and courteously refused.
Namikawa sipped his coffee, he undoubtedly needed it.
All the extra hours he had been putting in were beginning to take their toll. He browsed over the recent documents, in the last four months it appeared Yotsuba sales had enhanced by over forty percent and it seemed that their stock was in increasingly popular demand.
Not only that, with all the recent killings by Kira, all of Yotsuba's competition where slowly being annihilated. Sure this was good for the business, but if they produce even a slight inaccuracy, they would all face the consequences.
Namikawa was beginning to believe that they had taken this a little too far.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted, however, as there was a knock on the door. Namikawa beckoned them inside; eyes still scanning over the various documents.
"Namikawa!" a brusque, weary voice groaned, marching up to his desk. He released a stack of heavy files, allowing them to slam down on top of Namikawa's newly separated records.
He looked up, irately at Ooi Takeshi. "Do you have a particular reason for ruining my documentation, Ooi, or do you simply enjoy witnessing the failure of the Yotsuba Corporation?"
"Very amusing, Namikawa, and yes, as a matter of fact I do have a reason. A very good reason." Ooi glared, clearly displeased, at whatever he had done.
"This!" Ooi slammed his large hands down upon the large pile of records, "This was due in last week, Namikawa, yet you haven't even started."
"What is it?" Namikawa inquired, taking another mouthful of milky coffee.
"It is the forms for the Ichihara Shipment, and the online sales information that should have been calculated and checked."
Namikawa smirked, "I haven't gotten around to it yet, the sales are increasing, and I am very busy."
"Don't bullshit me, Namikawa, just don't bother." Ooi eyed him, gritting his teeth together, sweat resting on his brow. He was aggravated; there was no doubt about it. Too most people this would be quite frightening, but to Namikawa it was nothing but entertaining.
"Who's bullshitting?" Namikawa replied, "I have been preoccupied; I've been finishing the Mizuki Consignment all week, as well as all the stock papers that I received from Kida."
Ooi sighed, his face was gradually becoming red and his dark eyes had grown very cold, "Preoccupied? Do you take me for a complete and utter fool? You finished the Mizuki Consignment on Tuesday; Shimura sent them off on Wednesday evening, did he not? And the stock papers were finalised by Midō and I this morning."
Namikawa smirked at Ooi, somewhat frustrated.
"I want these finished by five today. It's not all about you. We have our own work to do, not just yours." Ooi turned toward the office door.
"It will be done by five," Namikawa responded, assertively, "Are you satisfied?"
"Yes." Ooi opened the door, heaving a sigh as he did so.
"Oh, and Ooi?" Namikawa continued, "Could you get me another coffee?"
Namikawa had spent most of the day filling out the forms from the Ishihara Shipment; it was straight-forward enough, granted he had to make a few phone calls and change some of the charting information. Nevertheless, he would get it finished by five, he was certain.
That was until Amane Misa appeared in his mind. Again, he was clammy and felt an unfamiliar sensation; he was uncomfortable and couldn't concentrate. She was not even due in today, or tomorrow, or even for the rest of the week, yet he was constantly nervous.
She was probably just a distraction. Yes, a distraction; his subconscious was trying to hinder his train of thought. He needed to focus.
Namikawa returned his gaze to the notation that lay before him. The administration needed multiple copies of the document, meaning he would have to go and photocopy it, up on the third floor.
Namikawa sighed, rising up from his desk, stretching himself willingly. His legs were dead, and his back was aching. He groaned, lifting the papers and walking toward the office door.
He ambled, idly along the pastel grey corridor. He pressed the grimy button, summoning the delayed elevator. At long last, the door opened, Namikawa entered the cramped elevator, sighing as he did so, content in the knowledge that after this was done he would be finished for the day.
He could finally relax. What was, until he felt her presence of somebody else in the elevator. He opened his tired eyes and turned his head in their direction.
"Amane-san?" He whispered aloud; practically involuntarily.
The pretty young model turned her head in his direction. Her lengthy golden hair, perfectly straight, was tied in the usual high ponytails. Her compassionate cerulean eyes were rimmed in a delicate edging of eye makeup; her pure ashen face was feathered in a light powder. Yes, Amane Misa was indeed, very beautiful.
She looked slightly confused for a moment, as though she was struggling to remember.
"Oh, wait I recognise you now! You are – Shimura-san, aren't you?"
Namikawa smiled. "Close. I am Namikawa. Namikawa Reiji."
"Oh..." She looked rather embarrassed, but seemed to overcome it quite quickly, "Well, how do you do, Namikawa-san?"
"Good, thank you. And you?"
Misa sighed theatrically, stretching her arms far above her head, so much so that she was standing on her tip-toes. "Exhausted! I shouldn't even be here to be honest! But Higuchi-san said he wished to speak to me, apparently it was very urgent."
"And you believed him?" Namikawa asked, eyeing her questionably.
Misa looked at him, somewhat confused. "W-well, yes. I mean, he is my employer."
"Well, he surely wants to improve his business; since I am a celebrity, certainly he would need me to do so." She said, looking as though she was perhaps trying to persuasive herself of the matter, "Don't you trust him, Namikawa-san?"
Namikawa smiled faintly, "No, Amane-san. Not in the slightest."
She groaned lightly, but her expression changed to that alluring smile. "Not a very loyal employee, are you, Namikawa-san?"
"It appears not."
She chuckled; soft and innocent, lightly if nothing else, but still he had caused her to giggle. He smiled back at her, still fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. The elevator came to a halt; the doors chimed and opened without hesitation.
"Well, this is me." Misa announced happily. Namikawa felt his chest tense with disappointment; there he was finally talking to her alone, yet it was in an elevator; naturally it was courtesy to talk to someone in an elevator. Nevertheless, he smiled kindly at her before stepping to the side.
She trotted elegantly out the door of the elevator, stopping abruptly, and turning toward Namikawa, just as the doors were closing.
"Goodbye, Namikawa-san!" She waved, enthusiastically.
Surprised, Namikawa gave a nervous smile, "Take care, Amane-san."