You'll Make Me
Think of Love

Chapter 2 - Mr. Modesto

Later that night, Anon woke up. For a second, he was yet to remember who he was and what he was supposed to be doing there, but to forget where he was would have been next to impossible; that was his office, of course. Anon could tell exactly where he was even in pitch black darkness, his other senses could not be fooled. However, as his eyes grew used to the shadows and after a dry yawn brought him back to reality, the silent room did not totally seem as he recalled. Two empty tables sat right next to his, occupying the last bit of space left. A growling ache reminded Anon he had not eaten a single thing throughout the entire day, but as he stood up and looked around before all of his earlier stresses could catch up to him an individual thought managed to form in his refreshed state of mind. Anon turned to himself and sighed, he had probably blown it with the Americans.

On the way home, Anon could not stop thinking they must have seen him napping and, justifiably, did not be bothered to wake him up. The only two people to have certainly checked on him had entirely ignored him; just how disappointed must they have been? “What a terrible last impression…” Anon anguished over his weakness, over losing to his sleep.

The self-conscious mess clouding his thoughts invited a lot more regrets to rot his hopes of appearing as a dependable guy. For a second he even almost lost important documentation that Mr. Forrester needed, all because he could not keep a darn suitcase in order. Someone who makes others wait should just be left behind in his office with everything else, right where he belongs.

As he could think back on what Mr. Forrester’s and Ms. Resnick’s face were like when they first looked at him he could not label them as anything other than confused. Maybe they were holding back their displeasure, the possibility was there. Nonetheless, Anon could not imagine Mr. Forrester being capable of looking at him with any animosity, and as for Ms. Resnick, her eyes… He had caught a bare glimpse at her amber, honey-like irises… Soon enough, Anon had to stop his train of thought.

Amidst the barely lit street, still quite removed from his house, he stopped walking and lifted his head up as the closest lamplight pulled on his gaze. He had once thought the same thing about someone else. The focused, almost cold gaze Ms. Resnick was capable of—or at least how he perceived it—brought him back to that same distant feeling of impotence. But if Ms. Resnick had to be different, if something had to stand out and be pointed out it had to be her calm and serene semblance, so effortlessly maintained. It could have been a contagious thing if only he had the chance to stare at them for longer, but he knew he could not do that.

Anon shoved all of that aside, there were more important matters that had to be dealt with. He had a certain responsibility to make the best use of everyone’s time, but a certain problem stuck out. He had to ask himself, what exactly does a secretary do?

That was a simple enough question, but when it came to having Ms. Resnick around Anon could not be too sure. He had not been made aware someone other than Mr. Forrester would come, so now he had to solve for a puzzle with extra pieces. Somehow it would have to work out.

As soon as the next morning came, Anon was set in being the first one to step into the office. The disgraceful show he had put on the day prior would not make a return, and to make sure of it he tidied his appearance and walked straight towards the janitor’s closet. He knew the room had the dire need for slight hospitability, something that became even more apparent now that a woman would be there with them. And since the janitor was hired to clean up once or twice a week, he figured he might as well sweep the floor himself.

Nonetheless, the closet was empty. None of the cleaning supplies were anywhere to be found, and Anon had to throw the idea away for the time being. Instead, he headed to the office room to rearrange what he could and win back some space as he waited for the foreigners, but as he walked in, a morning breeze blew over his body right after he opened the door.

Inside the room he saw Ms. Resnick again, lightly dressed in her white blouse and lengthy skirt, swinging her feathered tail while sweeping the floor. Anon stared at her, stunned by her presence. Her eyes looked back at him, making him quickly drop his face down at the sudden remorse growing in his heart.

“Welcome back, Mr. Imato. Excuse me if this seems unprompted, but I was told the cleaning duty is done irregularly, and I could not help myself,” she stopped and apologized.

“Oh, no, no… Well, I was thinking about doing the same thing, so thank you.”

“Good thing I got to it, then,” Kassandra replied. Her lips lifted up a soft, compressed smile.

A defeated sigh came out of Anon’s mouth “Heh…” He was certain things would have gone better had he managed to do it beforehand. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“No reason to be sorry, sir,” Kassandra had to say. “Nothing like that. I had… I was meaning to ask you in the first place. I ought to have your permission.”

“Permission?”

“To clean the office every day, sir. I would be glad to help.” Ms. Resnick turned completely towards Anon, bowing slightly to address him with respect. Her voice came out soft, not for any lack of volume, but for the way in which her words would keep a steady flow with little to no inflections. If the embodiment of professionalism had a face, it had to be one like hers.

Anon was baffled by the question. He should have given it honest thought, but his conscience would not be content with her volunteering to clean up a mess that was entirely his doing. It did not sit right. And yet, she waited for a response, happy, brisky and enticed, aware that there would be no reason for him to refuse. If all she could look forward to was escaping that carcass room full of junk, would that be a good thing? If the embodiment of shamelessness had a face, it must have been ugly.

All the while his words had been snatched away, the breeze Anon had felt brushed once again against him. The lattices were seldom opened, and he dared look outside the windows. At that time of day, their building casted a shadow over the one next door, something he had never noticed. It was almost new, something unexpected that should have been obvious. Anon’s nervousness came to a halt as he became lost in the view.

Kassandra waited for a response, but the lack of one made her immediately try to figure out what he was thinking about so much. Following his eyes, she made a safe guess. “Oh, I thought opening the windows would make the room fresher. Is that a problem, mister?”

“No, it couldn’t be a problem, sorry,” Anon replied, squeezing out an answer to her question. “Sure, you can clean if that’s really ok with you.”

Kassandra smiled in joy. She had been hesitant before, but that day she found enough twists and turns to justify cleaning the room. To say she did not mind the work was an understatement. Rising with the birds, she had almost even woken her master up so they could leave the hotel and she could get started with it.

“Mister, do you mind if I move my desk over here? I think it would help not obstructing the natural daylight.”

Anon nodded. If that would make their congested room a little fresher, then be it. He had taken a seat and, on the other hand struggled to find anything to do as Mr. Forrester had not yet showed up. That gave him time. Like a boy and a musket, time was the last thing Anon was ready to be entrusted with, and his mind knew already what sorts of tricks to play on him, which he could only feign obliviousness to.

Graciously sweeping and turning, Ms. Resnick gladly volunteered to transform the room into something he could no longer recognize. Anon kept quiet, without the need to say anything and unsure of what the two could talk about if that was a proper thing in the first place.

“What about this, mister? Can I move it?” Kassandra reached to some of the items resting in the corner. Old desk lamps and phones, ash trays, adding machines, half-empty bottles of ink and medicine; most of the stuff was stocked in piles and boxes besides a line of cabinets where somebody had laid them before. Anon had allow it all to collect dust despite never seeing any use again.

Whether the secretary’s appeal for direct authorization came from a compulsory need or was a tactic to test the boundaries of a new environment, Anon wanted to avoid making it a regular thing. He was not used to something like it, but he kept entertaining it since he had no clue on how else to interact with her. In a desperate attempt to conceal his anxiety, he tried to appease her by softly assuring what would collide the least. “If it’s something you want to do, I won’t object, don’t worry”.

Kassandra had sensed something off from the cadence of his voice, but resumed with her endeavor after a meek “Thank you, sir.” Her imagination could have fabricated it, and she held on to her decision to avoid judging a person she had barely become acquainted with, especially someone whose words had been so consistently gentle. She simply looked at him as she got busy, happy to be there.

Anon could not share the sentiment. Too soon his eyes strayed far from where they should and fell on Ms. Resnick as she innocently reached out in tiptoes to shake off dusty spiderwebs. Her arms swayed the broomstick tightly, impressing her short height towards the ceiling in her otherwise rigid skirt. She was surprisingly bouncy. The bow adorning her collar would not stop fluttering along with her feathers, chasing her every move, and with each short step she made and with each soft huff of air she pulled to balance herself, the pin holding her hair bun seemed that much hopeless. Lively as nothing else in the room, she was engrossed from the start, without any second thought disturbing her peace.

Soon it became obvious to Anon that he was a culprit, host to a lingering guilt rising from the depths of his gut. Allowing himself to draw a connection between two vastly different women had been an inadequate mistake, and to remotely imagine such a thing was outright disrespectful. What were his eyes for then? The mess he could now see was all his, and he ought to put an end to it somehow.

“Ms. Resnick, just one question,” he said.

“Yes, sir?” she pulled back to better face him after being called.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, just…” Anon turned his head, pushed to look at Mr. Forrester’s seat and afraid of asking something dumb. “Do you know where Mr. Forrester is? I thought the two of you would arrive together.”

Kassandra was thrown off by the question. Was Mr. Imato implying her master to be irresponsibly missing? “You were right, sir. The young master is introducing himself at the moment. He said he wanted to explore the other rooms before you came in.”

Anon’s face turned bright red. “What?!” He stood up in a swoop, almost furiously grabbing his stuff. “I will go get him, we need to go to the fields again!”

Astonished by the haste he was in, Kassandra replied “Yes, mister” and looked at him run through the door. He had been so avoidant that she could not make anything out of this strange behavior. The confusion forced her to instinctively agree without any consideration until after he had left already. He disappeared, leaving her to watch the room as she kept cleaning. The sign was clear, she would not be coming along once more.

Done with mopping in a little while, the Kikimora rested unoccupied as she stayed in the new office, far removed from the clutter they initially found. The pride that came from having been useful lived shortly, but as the hours passed by the need to hold on to it grew stronger. There was hope that her bosses would come back with something for her to do, and she could have accepted anything.

She looked out the window. Her seat was perfectly placed for a good view of the sky outside. Again, she rested her face on her desk, trapped in a game of patience. She told herself not to feel excluded, she had to be certain that things would not remain like it for long. It would have to become bearable eventually, she thought. A stagnant sense of uncertainty scared her, she was not cut for guessing. After all, having nothing to do was the worst possible thing to happen to a Kikimora. The improper thought had to cross her at a certain point, she did not want the trip to be made meaningless. She closed her eyes and sighed, wondering what else she could do.

Conversely, her master found his way into the field once more. Anon managed to find him exploring the hallways of the company, looking for someone to introduce himself to, which was a high ordeal that early in the morning. And however different their perspectives were, Anon and Forrester shared the desire to make the most out of their day.

Their morning consisted of looking over a certain procedure taking place over many acres of land. Fungi of a strong variety had begun to grow in the crops, and the area had to be measured so they could all be chopped. The soil would later have to be treated for weeks before it was declared safe for more trees to be planted there. None of it stood out from the ordinary, the job was more or less a common occurrence, and nothing would have been lost if the assistant supervisors had not been there. In fact, the employee surveillance forced the workers to take a considerable amount of time more than usual as they were afraid of being called out, but Anon valued the experience as important for Forrester to have.

It was a few hours later when the two of them sat in one of the many cafeterias, having been offered some of the local food by the cook. The workers had not been called for break yet, so Forrester held out for a short while to eat with everyone else. Anon did not have the same interest in doing a thing like that, and his breakfast was served as Forrester looked over him across the table in that empty hut. The two were resting, something they had earned after so much walking around. They had gathered plenty of work to take care of back in the office, and the plantations would not slow down without them still.

“I’m starting to understand why you would handle things back there without coming here, mister, it’s exhausting…” Forrester said. He wiped his brow as he laid back on his chair, mostly satisfied with everything he made himself write down. “It’s something else entirely…”

“That’s how it is with a single man…” Anon excused himself humbly between his chewing. “Good enough was… well, enough.”

“But you know so much… I got to study everything if I want to match the job, I can just barely keep up…” Forrester fanned himself with his shirt and tucked his head between his shoulders having to think about everything he did not know. They were far from done for the day there, and it was getting a lot hotter, though Mr. Anon did not seem to mind.

“Do you think if you point me out exactly what I have to do before coming here, you could send me on my own?” Forrester asked.

Anon lowered his fork, turning his face to look at Forrester after the question. “I mean... Y—You don’t worry about that.”

“Really?” Forrester shoot up in excitement. He had been thinking about the deal they had made to distribute the work in its entirety. If there was a way to be on his own as soon as possible, he had to try. Mr. Anon had already been nice enough to entertain him and accompany him.

But Anon’s reply was not one that Forrester could have predicted.

“Yes, since I’ll be coming anyways.”

“Wait, then what do you mean by me not having to worry about it?” Forrester was shocked.

“I’ll be here, so nothing should go wrong. You and I will come, I’ll show you what to do just like this every morning. If possible, we should head here straight from home. I wait for you or you wait for me,” Anon said.

“Every day?! Don’t you think that would be a bit overkill, sir? I mean, Mr. Anon.”

“No, no, I don’t think it will mess too much with our schedule… Probably not.” Anon looked away. “I prefer it this way. It’s safer, right?”

As short as the explanation was, Forrester had to swallow it and accept it. Mr. Anon was reasonable enough, he was not an experienced supervisor, it would have been too risky to trust him with a responsibility like it so soon. He nodded and closed the topic “Oh, ok…”, however wrong the exchange felt afterwards. Something was odd, but Forrester knew better than to complain to his superiors when they must have known better.

Moving on and about to finish his food, Anon raised his head when a loud whistle erupted throughout the field, announcing the lunch break for everyone else. He stood up, ready to excuse himself and walk from the table with an empty plate at the very moment monstergirls and hard-working men begun filling the now crowded space.

Anon always kept more than just a safe distance from monstergirl workers. Spraying himself for good measure was obviously too rude to do in their presence, and he knew that they too did not find his close vicinity comfortable. Furthermore, an awkward silence succeeded once Anon had moved away and outside of the cafeteria. It was understood, even if most of them had never interacted with him or been there to see his days working in the field. The quiet agreement not to say it out loud served to prove the underlying concession that he was afraid, and that made it all the more confusing when Forrester mentioned their new plan.

“We’ll be coming here every day from now on, he says,” Forrester explained.

The crowd around him had initially been very invested in talking to the sparkling young man, curious as they were for a fancy foreigner. And between all the questions about his country, his life and his money, the topic eventually appeared unannounced. Someone had mentioned how surprising it had been to see the two of them two days in a row, and Forrester left them speechless with his assertion.

Muffled murmuring arose past a brief moment of silence. Mr. Anon’s name was thrown out in directionless comments narrowly avoiding Forrester, displaying less contempt than joylessness.

The situation raised Forrester’s concern, but before anyone could drag it for longer, a Minotaur lady sitting nearby attempted to take over the conversation. “At least we’ll see you often, don’t you think?”

“Y—yeah…” Forrester smiled. The displeasure around him, mostly that from men, still lingered. And yet, no one actually committed to talking about it, as if there was nothing to possibly say.

“It was just unexpected, that’s all,” the Minotaur tried assisting him, but her words worked to embolden him to ask.

“Why do you think he might want to do this?” Forrester wanted for her opinion, aware of the awkwardness that would pervade. Maybe someone who spoke directly could answer him, but as he waited for a response that never came, her eyes only served to make him realize that she could not answer. Even if she could come up with an explanation, no one really knew Mr. Anon enough to speak about him honestly and in good conscience, which Forrester could tell.

“Maybe he just likes you too much,” a young Kobold suggested. “You managed to get him here because he wants to spend time with a cutie.”

“Oh, God, do you really think so? I’m blushing!” Forrester had to laugh it up. A light comment like it became a valuable breather. Some of the workers scoffed, but after that his mind changed gears to serve a better mood. He could not entertain the idea that Mr. Anon was up to any wrong.

“He’s probably just worried as he said, I might mess something up and he wants to take care of that…” Forrester thought out loud, catching the interest of the Minotaur.

“Hm… Do you think so? Most often than not, those are the type of people who need someone take care of them the most,” she said.

“Haha! Wait, what are you implying? I should…?” Forrester blushed timidly, making every monstergirl around him laugh.

“Well, we can’t help him ourselves,” one of the girls said. “That’s for ‘the wife’ to do, isn’t it? Hehehe…”

“I… I guess so…?” Forrester did not understand what made the comment so funny for them. They all giggled as they left him hanging. As soon as that happened, the subject was dropped. There were still other different things that people wanted to talk about with the foreigner, although he had been successfully monopolized by the group of monstergirls nearby. He had no problem dealing with them, he was perfectly comfortable. As a sheltered kid, Forrester had a record of mostly female friendships, with counted male ones, and he did not consider the chance to bond with all of them a lot closer than with other workers as anything remarkable.

Anon did catch notice of it as he was coming back towards the entrance. His intent had not been that to peek, but as visually stunning as the picture was, he could not ignore it. Mr. Forrester was indeed quite popular. He never had any doubt in his mind that Mr. Forrester Still was an outgoing person, but witnessing it first-hand made him wonder how someone could be so nonchalant about monstergirls leaning and pressing on to him, not afraid to be claimed in any moment. That sort of rubbing would have been too much for someone like Anon to handle, and the conclusions he did not want to draw were only setting stronger—they were just not the same after all.

A loud growl gripped Anon in his stomach. Something had made him sick, but the meal could hardly have been the issue. When he wanted to call Mr. Forrester so they could both leave, Anon could not bring himself to do it. He was paralyzed right before raising his hand, stoned while looking at him. His thoughts were driven wild after an instinctive, defensive impulse to push himself down took over. Regardless, Anon made a mechanical attempt not to mind it and, with a gulp, swallowed whatever implications he was making up so they could not cause trouble.

Someone must have spotted him in his absent state of mind, because the next thing he saw was Mr. Forrester turning around and staring right at him; maybe everyone was. Anon finally waved his hand to call him, without having to step into the barrack again. After Forrester said farewell to everyone and the two reunited, they returned to the city, waiting a bit until they could resume with another day in another side of the job.

“Kassie, we’re back,” Forrester called, walking inside the office room.

“Welcome back, master,” Kassandra did her best to pretend she had been awake the entire time. “How was your morning?”

“Um… Good. Have you had your lunch already? Mr. Anon and I ate back there…”

“I did not…” Kassandra replied.

Forrester had to glance at her with certain compassion. “Maybe you should go take a break and come here after having something, don’t you think?”

“Oh.” Kassandra was not sure if that was even a thought in her head. She was slightly disappointed, but regained her composure when she saw Mr. Imato quietly seating down and opening his case. She turned around to stand up and get closer. “Is there anything you might need, mister? I could bring it to you on my way back.”

Anon was a little out of it at the time. He looked at her, nodded his head for an unnoticeable degree and immediately pulled his eyes back down, expecting that to be enough.

“Mister? I’m sorry, do you need anything?” She repeated herself.

“Ah…” Anon stopped to think for once, realizing what she was asking. “Oh, no, no. Don’t worry, miss. Not now. Have a good lunch,” he answered back.

How dry, Kassandra thought. Had something happened back in the plantations? She could not tell from a look at her master, and Mr. Imato had also been distant in the morning, so that might have been how he naturally treated everyone. She did not mind much after the consideration, and went outside after a light bow, only picking on a trail of smell on her way to the door. Glancing at Mr. Imato, her thoughts cursed at that repellent he must have showered himself with. A wife should have taken that thing away from him and hid it a long time ago.

As for Anon and Forrester, they sat in their adjacent tables. There was a list of things to be done that had barely been started: checking, filtering, filing, coping, planning, etc. With every item Anon added, there was a meeting that had to be rescheduled because of their new module, and Forrester’s face gradually changed from one of readiness to one with unease.

Even after Kassandra’s return, all the work piled up had diminished nothing at all. And as the day was coming to an end, Anon and Forrester were cornered with their heads heated by numbers and datasheets, having to cut off their progress when it was time to split up. Still, Anon had ruminated over what Forrester would be capable of doing by himself and decided to give him some new batch of documents to read. Forrester was beaten and tired, but he gladly accepted them. He gave the stack to Kassandra so she could hold on to them for the time being until they arrived to their hotel. However, she could see in the corner of her eye the brooking look in Anon’s face as he put everything he could fit inside of his suitcase. The difference was astounding.

Her master also carried a conflicted expression while standing in the middle of the room. He seemed to be waiting for Mr. Imato to leave with them, but the man was seeded in his chair.

“We’ll be leaving, Mr. Anon,” Forrester said.

“Yeah.” Anon then caught what his underling was trying to imply and said “Sometimes I close, don’t worry. Have a good night sleep.” He raised his hand to wave at them and then looked away.

Forrester’s hand wavered, he accepted that and left the room however awkward that felt to him. Kassandra had to follow. But she gave Mr. Imato one last look as he sat still, head straight down to the desk, working on a big stack of documents that had not gone into his case. He was trying to finish all of it before he could go home by himself and continue with the rest.

The sight begot quite some worry in her, the amount of work was excessive to say the least, although she did not feel right evaluating that herself. No one but him would know what the regular load of work was like, so it could have possibly been normal. Mr. Imato should have known what he was doing, and he had not asked her for any help, imposing on that would have been unbecoming of a secretary. His responsibilities were not like cleaning duty at all.

“Goodbye, mister,” she said to no response and closed the door, not yet made aware by her master that their next day would go exactly the same.

Anon had not dared to respond. A pit had formed inside him throughout the course of the day, and holding it in was enough already. He knew he would not sleep that night, so he did not bother having restraint with himself. He had to do as much work as he could. If the night caught up to him, he just had to go back home and keep going. Not only did he need it, he was obligated to if he wanted to fulfill his duties. But he would manage, he was sure.

And so, he returned home by eleven forty, staggering on his way back, only to sit in front of his typing machine under the incandescent lamplight. He carried his piece of the office in his suitcase and spent the night forcefully stopping his head from nodding and crashing into a dream down at the table. If he had actually gone to bed, all dizziness would have faded away anyways, and working was the only refuge.

The next morning Kassandra arrived at the office to no one’s company. Her day went on sorting the documents her master gave her after he was done with them. It was the only thing besides cleaning that she could do, and she had to somehow find a way to stretch that for the entire morning as she asked herself what exactly the two of them did out there.

The plantations were brimming with movement along the sunrise, since most of the workers lived there in the first place. Anon had arrived first finally, but he still had to wait for Mr. Forrester, which he preferred to do in the same seat they shared two days before when they met. He rested his head over his two hands, hunching his knees and closing his eyes. Anon could tell he was exhausted, so he would take a few minutes to recharge back up until Forrester…

“Mr. Anon, are you awake?” Forrester tapped him in the shoulder, afraid to bother the sleepy Anon and take his rest away.

Anon suddenly jumped out of his sleep and saw Forrester beside him, covered by the shining sunlight of early morning. For a second he thought he had slept through to dusk, but he was lucky enough not to be left to himself again.

“Good morning, Mr. Forrester. Thank you for that,” he forced himself to smile.

“Are you alright, Mr. Anon? Really, we shouldn’t come here if it messes with the schedule. I’ve come to realize that this is for sure no job for one man.”

It was true, Anon was well aware of that. He had been given the job a year before and the only reason he had not crumbled under the pressure was that he had nothing else in his life going on. His way of dealing with things was not ideal, but it was all within the boundaries of everyone’s responsibilities. Bypassing formalities in order to operate had worked.

But right then, the plan was something else, as if they had time to spare. He knew that if one of the two handled the field things would not change much from usual, but having both of them there would entail barely scrapping by at best. It was a time sinker.

“It’s ok. I’m telling you, don’t worry about the schedule right now,” Anon told him.

“Why is that?” For the first time, Forrester perceived Anon as inconsiderate. Was there a reason to endanger the entire project just to personally coddle him? Was that reasonable? “Mr. Anon, I know that we agreed to this, but I came to realize how wrong it was for me to expect something like this from you.”

Anon squinted his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Forrester backed down a little, surprise at the reaction. He thought he had been very clear, and having to stand his ground, he asked “How long will this keep going?” with an equally somber tone.

Anon too was surprised by how serious the exchange was turning, no having realized he came across as aggressive until that moment. “Sorry, I apologize… That was not…”

He could then see Forrester also softening in his stance. “What is it then, mister?” He had to answer.

“We’ll keep this going for as long as we have to. Just… pay close attention, that’s it… Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing; things will get better,” Anon said. “Please. Trust me. I just need to keep counseling you. This is part of my job. I have to do it.”

There was a cold desperation in his voice that Forrester had to pick up. If they continued, there was a chance he would see Anon undesirable, and he did not wish to hold him in a bad light, just like Anon did not wish to release himself from the pressure he was under.

“Ok then…” Forrester yielded. “I’ll learn everything I can, mister, I promise. I’ll be under your watch. You must know what’s best.” He smiled; his curiosity lowered to a compliant diligence that shook Anon with shame, because he knew his own dishonesty.

With that, their morning went very similar to that of the day before. And it would go the same the next day, then Monday and so on, and so forth. They followed the foremen and made sure to write down every last thing about what was done, what had to be done, how and by whom. Forrester would eat with the workers, and Anon would go away to one of the tables outside, to keep working on what he carried in his suitcase. He was determined not to lose any second. Despite his hunger and the hot weather, he could not let go of his work for a single moment.

Returning to their office, Anon and Forrester had a rough idea of the amount of work yet to do and how close they were to finishing it, so they got to it without any time for discussions. Kassandra, naturally, had also finished the work that her master had given her, so he did not hesitate giving her any command he knew she could fulfill. Having rested all day, she had found it anxiously devaluating to ignore what was expected of her to do or be. To be asked for something was reassuring.

“Mr. Forrester, you take these files and write down the name of every contractor that’s highlighted. We need them to be included in the next report,” Anon handed him a thick set of documents from one of his drawers.

“Sure. Kassie, can you take a look at that? I’m still working on the proofreading here,” Forrester said, handing them down to her in a chain.

Kassandra got the files on her table and began doing as she was told by Mr. Forrester. As she gave them a quick look, she glanced over to see what her master and Mr. Imato were doing. Taking notice of the heavy pressure they were under, courage surged from inside her to do what she could to relieve a bit of that weight.

“Master, Mr. Imato, forgive me, there is something I had meant to ask you,” she said.

“Huh? What is it, Kassie?”

“Could it be possible for me to follow you to the plantation fields? I value I could be of service and help you reduce the work that comes with sorting through the information that you gather.” Kassandra looked at her master, then at Mr. Imato, expecting a response. “Would there be a way for that to happen?”

Anon kept his head down, not taking his eyes away from the mountain of workload in front of him. If his mind was busy thinking about what to say, or if it even shared any space with what he was currently doing, it was not apparent, much less by how short the answer was when it came.

“No.”

Anon was yet to make the slightest move. Both Forrester and Kassandra were disconcerted by his reply, more so by the fact that it had been the most direct thing he had said to them by then.

“I don’t think you should go there. All you’d see is dirt and sweat, would you want that? You’re better off here under the shade. I mean, you’re a secretary, Ms. Resnick.”

“Wait, Mr. Anon, that’s a bit…” Forrester tried to intervene to make him reconsider his words. He was being cold with her for no reason.

“There’s more important work for you to do here in the office, don’t you think? I thought you were quite busy already, there’s cleaning duty that you asked for too. I wouldn’t want to load you too much,” Anon expanded as he saw them both unable to reply to him.

The two foreigners kept quiet, making something out of Mr. Imato’s words. Whatever he meant by that, there was no indication it was meant to demean anyone, but still, it was hard for them not to take offense. Forrester in particular was disheartened and silently seethed in his place. On the other hand, Kassandra, someone who would have complied in disappointment had it been directly strictly at herself, could not stand that treatment towards her master and glared straight at Mr. Imato’s condescension.

Anon could feel the atmosphere changing, he raised his head and asked “Is something the matter?”

Before Kassandra could call him out for being so insensitive, Forrester stopped her by tapping the table with his finger and stating “No, mister.” He had taken a decision right then.

Kassandra could tell what he was saying by the look in his eyes, to which she promptly exhaled and calmed down. “I… I understand, mister.” She tried her best to contain her own anger, displeased by how unfair it was. Anon soon resumed with his work as if nothing had happened, which only served to make Kassandra even angrier.

“Um… Is there something else I can help you out with, Mr. Anon?” Forrester tried to appease the growing tension and move on, but he did not count on Anon keeping up his stubbornness.

“Not really, Mr. Forrester. For now, that’s all. If there’s something else, I’ll let you know.” Mr. Forrester had enough to work on, Anon thought. He was stuffing his apprentice with too much work already. He himself had to do most of it or else it would not feel right.

Something along those lines could probably have been the case for Anon. If Forrester had enough work to give away, there was no need to push more unto him. Through hell or high water, Anon would make things work out just as they were before. In a lapse of self-awareness, it became an important matter to him that they stayed exactly in the same place they were. He could not see why they would not want that, a perfect coexistence where his or anyone’s part would not intrude any other’s.

This inflexibility became a recursive pattern for the next few days. Forrester would have to look from the side, and Kassandra would continue with her days of waiting until her master came along and gave her anything to do, which already reduced slowly over time.

If it had not been because Forrester ordered Kassandra not to interfere in advance, she would have. Her patience was running thin after that interaction with Mr. Imato. But her master was deeply concerned with him, with the turn he had taken. He thought that they needed to see him back down on his own. Forrester wanted to see for himself how strong Anon’s pride was and what would end up breaking through it. And save from some instances when he called for support, Anon had mostly alienated himself into an endurance test.

By the end of the first week, Mr. Alcántara reached out to everyone working at the time in their building to invite them for a friendly get-together, a welcoming party for the Americans. West-side of the city there was a small ballroom that would occasionally serve for small events such as that one, though the room itself had to compensate its tropical frugality with the table arrangements and a variety of foods for anyone to pick from.

Mr. Alcántara was known for his enthusiasm as a socialite, enthusiasm that fell short most of the time due to the inability of everyone around to play along, but that once it had gone just as planned. Kassandra and Forrester were entertained at the very least. Most of the people they were just meeting were charming and affectionate, their faces had crossed them at some point but it was until that moment when they could put a name to them.

It should have been a fun break, since plenty of people had brought a guest—for obvious reasons during the Monstergirl Age—and were taken out from the small little groups they would form either way. But there appeared to be one exception, someone who chose to keep his place planted while everyone else mingled, and both Forrester and Kassandra could not help looking at him at times.

Mr. Imato sat next to the beverages, smoking by himself. He would occasionally give a quick hello to a nearby couple, exchanging some smiles as they moved away. Not a person stayed there with him, as if it was understood that it was better to let him be, no questions and no answers.

Anon was forced to attend the event. He was sure his boss would not tolerate his absence, and he would not have missed regardless, since he knew how much Mr. Alcántara always liked to invite him out. There was nothing he could do instead but go and check that item off from the list of things he had to do for his job. He had to bear with dressing up and wait until it was time to go home and resume his work.

A few weird looks were enough for Anon to realize the incessant tapping of his foot, something he stopped in fear of being more of a bother to anyone. Mr. Forrester and Ms. Resnick had been staring at him, and that alone did not make a difference. They were the center of the party, the two could not walk much from the amount of people invested in meeting them. Could there have been some chattering about him that he was not aware of? Someone telling on him about something embarrassing? He really just wanted to leave, every look at them made him lost tracks of the notes he was sorting through in his mind.

To heap on his anxiousness, Ms. Resnick had just drawn away from Mr. Forrester and walked in his direction. Anon pulled the rest of his cigarette in a big huff and stood up to greet her. She wore a blue, frilly dress that pulled on her tail to look like part of the hemline and hid most of her heels, but they barely peeked out with her steps like shiny slippers.

“G—Good afternoon, miss.” He felt ill-fitted to address her in one of his simple suits.

Mr. Forrester, on the other hand, wore a fancy sports jacket and a gray panama, successfully selling the part of being old money, since he really was. The charismatic aristocrat showed up like an open window to a better life, a distant world inaccessible even to the fantastical ladies around them. Only Kassandra was acquainted with such a lifestyle, but at the sight and presence of the man himself she fell behind as mere companionship.

“Good afternoon to you to, mister,” she bothered greeting him as well. He too bothered putting out his smoke as she leaned for a drink. There had been no hint that Mr. Anon was a smoker until that day, but it was not surprising, similar to another little thing she was quick to notice with how lonesome he stood.

“I hope you two are having a good time, people often push themselves a bit too much on others when they want to know them,” Anon said as he fidgeted to the side.

“We are, thank you. Although I would not know about the latter,” Kassandra replied. She was sure Mr. Imato did not look like he would know that at all, which was a mean thought of hers. “That would doubtfully be a problem to myself, and my master is used to it.”

“I see…”

“Is there a drink you like the most out of all of these, sir?” Kassandra asked him. She had been initially reserved to interact with Mr. Imato, but strangely enough he never dropped his manners when talking to them, which she had to acknowledge. The situation just had to come by miraculously despite her restraint to keep grudges, if anything he was usually the one avoiding them. She could not tell what he wanted at all, but she did not wish to be on bad terms with anyone.

“I… don’t know… The champagne might be good, but I don’t drink,” he answered, looking at the table from side to side.

Kassandra raised her eyebrow; it had stirred her curiosity. If she were to believe him, he was a smoker that did not drink, something that regardless of motives she found striking. His face was turning red after she kept staring, and his hands found their way to his lighter.

“Well, I will take two of these, thank you. See you later, mister,” Kassandra grabbed the cups and bowed him goodbye. She could not keep her master waiting any longer.

Anon just nodded, left alone again he took another smoke and sat down, now unable to think about his repository of operations and due dates. He kept looking for her after she was gone, unable to look away until her eyes met his. She was then pulled back to a conversation by Mr. Forrester and some of the organizers of the party, forgetting about the distress inside their office room for a minute. After a while, neither Mr. Forrester or Ms. Resnick looked at him anymore. It was a nice call, Anon thought, he must have been bumming everyone out. A sudden migraine taking over made him put out his cigarette shortly, he could not stand being there.

The foreigners kept chatting with their coworkers, and when a particular question arose, it rang a bell for an easy resolution of their problems.

“So tell us, how have you been treated lately? Is Anon being overbearing?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that…!” Forrester faintly smiled, trying to maintain the topic light. He was not lying as well.

“You can just come to us if you want a change, you know? We’d be happy to have you around.” This was one of the representatives of the legal department. Alongside a few others, they had prepared the party after their suggestion to Mr. Alcántara. “We might go out a little, or maybe have more of these if you want to!”

“Oh, no, that’s not really necessary…” Forrester had to repeat that over and over.

Kassandra realized that Mr. Anon had not been entirely wrong calling them “pushy” and supported her master in a swift.

“Do you have enough time for that in your department?” she asked.

Feeling a chill down their spines after being called out, the organizers retorted back “Yes, yes, you might be right… I’m sorry if he told on us… The Chief’s pet is quite the snitch, isn’t he?”

“Hmm?” Neither Forrester or Kassandra knew what they were talking about.

“But he’s used to help us out, you see…! We weren’t trying to laze around…”

At that moment Kassandra made sense of it. Mr. Imato had given them a few more work the day before, and that explained it. He could not do it all by himself because he was busy handling work from another department.

Suddenly, there was a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, and it was not one that could be drown with champagne. They would not have been asked for help had he not overreached his own responsibilities; he was taking duties from other people as well. She frowned.

When she looked back at the table, at his seat, he was not there. Mr. Imato had gone home already. And she could not do anything but swallow her frustration at him, at his hunger for preeminence and at those who willfully fed him. She had to question how long would it take for her to have any semblance of a real job. If things kept going like that, her presence would turn out to be meaningless.

Despite that, however, Kassandra did not miss a day after that. She kept her early attendance as one of the last things to be proud of in her service. Her master was having similar problems when it came to his part, and between the daily trips to the plantations and taking the rest of the day to catch up with assignments, all the initial excitement was dulled to a routinary submission.

Exactly how Kassandra had pieced together, coworkers from separate divisions would occasionally come over and ask Mr. Imato to finish things for them, and he would oblige. Only in those instances when time was dire would Mr. Imato share some of their legitimate load with her master and her. She had to thank them, she supposed, people who would only address him when it was useful for them… Kassandra resented the whole situation. They were scraping the very bottom of the barrel.

Her master did not want to intervene, however. Forrester did not find it reasonable to do so, being an apprentice. No matter how close they came to, they never missed a single deadline, and it was Mr. Anon’s work. He would only wait for the next assignment and hope for the chance to help a bit more, having faith that it was only a matter of time before he was properly integrated into the workflow, but that chance was not coming each and every time.

Giving a report was an empty victory that Mr. Anon claimed, and they had to conclude that it was some sort of punishment for something only he could understand. He was impressive, but who was it in service of? Any admiration Forrester could hold for Mr. Anon turned into a dubious mix of emotions. Forrester and Kassandra would only look at him and wonder how much stress he really was under, but he would not let them take it off of him. The office turned cold and unsympathetic for everyone, and that was the way he wanted to keep it.

Things stayed like that for a couple of weeks, without any complaint or special remark from any party. Forrester had decided that if there was no change in the way things were going by the end of their first month, he would have to ask Mr. Alcántara to move them to another supervisor. It had been a strange decision to put them under someone working remotely from the plantation fields, but Forrester had been willing to go with it for a while. Now it was an active hindrance on his development, and Kassandra agreed.

Then, on their third Friday there, after already getting done with her morning duties, Kassandra sat down to herself. She could spend her time sweeping and mopping, dusting the cabinets and cleaning away spider webs in the ceiling again and again, but as soon as she finished with all of it, the same feeling of worthlessness reemerged. “Is this really all I can do?”

She knew that a secretary had no right to demand taking part in all of the heavy lifting, but she was a Kikimora, for crying out loud! Having to carry a weight so light was quite disgraceful for her. For most of the day, being part of the furniture was all she was worth, sometimes not even that. How much longer she could go on like that she truly did not know.

Kassandra held her head, looking outside through the blinds. That had become her routine, it was just as usual. She would nod a little and close her eyes, she would speed up time taking a short nap until Mr. Imato or her master came back. However, she was quickly woken up when she heard a light tap on the door that early in the morning.

“Kassandra, Mr. Forrester is on the line,” the receptionist called her.

Unexpected, she thought, but a flickering hope lit inside her for the possibility that maybe he would have a request for her. She merrily stood up and patted her long skirt, trying to fix herself for something like that. “Very well, Mrs. Lucía, thank you.”

Kassandra followed the slithering receptionist to the company telephone down in the first floor. There, she was given the receiver as they arrived. “Thank you,” they smiled to one another as Mrs. Lucía recoiled on her chair. “Hello, master?”

“Kassie, hello? Good grief, it was hard to find one, but I managed to borrow a landline,” he exclaimed. “Is Mr. Anon there with you in the office? Or did you see him earlier today?”

Taken back by the question, Kassandra gripped the handset of the phone. A chilling tension crawled between her shoulders. “No, sir. I have not seen him. Is he not with you?”

Forrester kept quiet for four or maybe five seconds. Without a word, Kassandra understood that, like her, he had not seen Anon that day; he was absent.

“We will not meet the deadline today. That is all,” Forrester said through the telephone. “I will be there in a while, sorry,” and he hanged up. Even though the call was over, and the disconnect tone was ringing in her ear, Kassandra did not stop holding the handset for a short while.

She urged herself to think, to dig deep in her brain and try to remember, how did Mr. Imato look the day before? It was almost impossible to tell. His face was always elusive; he never spoke to her for anything other than to say hello or goodbye. The only thing he looked at was his own table; the only thing he said was what he had to. Could she assume the worst and believe he collapsed under all of that? Was he sick? How harsh would it be on him to miss an assignment? She had to think for a moment. She had promised Mr. Forrester, her master, that no matter what happened, she would leave Anon to deal with it. It was not her place to worry about him. But then, almost instinctively, that troubled face of his flashed before her, the look of someone who is drowning and refuses to swim out.

“Kassandra, are you alright?” Lucía had to check. “You seem tense.”

Kassandra came back to her immediate senses, shaking off her stress. “I’m ok, Mrs. Lucía, thank you.” Then it occurred to her. “Um, Mrs. Lucía, do you think I could make a call?”

“Yes, sure. Who should I ask for?” Lucía queried, ready to get in line with the operator.

“I… do you think you can get me Mr. Imato?”

“You’re calling his house, miss?” Lucía was very interested by that and gave a inquisitive grin. She turned to sort the connection and nodded as she gave Kassandra the end of the phone. Kassandra extended the cord once again and brought the receiver close to her ear.

“No response…”

“Should we try again?” Lucía asked, hanging up and doing the process all over again.

Again, no response.

“He must be out. Is he not coming today, maybe?”

Kassandra gave the phone back with trembling hands and walked away back to the stairs, worrying about her next move. “I will not be able to come to lunch time with you today, miss, I’m sorry,” she said, excusing herself and going upstairs. Lucía did not mind, a little aware of what her friend’s excruciating concern could be.

Kassandra knocked the door, twice to be sure her soft and gentle taps could be heard by a human ear. “Come on in,” she was welcomed. Mr. Alcántara himself waited for her in his office deep into the second floor, far removed from her usual work space, but similar enough to recognize the similarities between the two rooms.

“Excuse me, sir, you must be on the most occupied of times,” she said to him on her entrance.

“What is it, Ms. Kassandra? Have you come to leave the performance report?” he questioned.

“Oh, sir,” she stuttered. “I am very sorry. I have come to ask you for something that might seem inappropriate, but I hope you might turn a blind eye for me this time.”

Mr. Alcántara was stunned. He had thought, as always, Anon would turn in his due work, this time through his now trusty secretary. Nonetheless that must have been a little too optimistic to be true, he realized.

“Wait, wait, wait. Forgive me,” he muttered. “I thought this meant business, miss. Be welcomed to ask as you please, I will not keep anything from an employee. And if you say it is an important matter, to me, at least, it will be.”

Kassandra gave a step forward, gathering her courage to ask, “If you know, sir, could you tell me the place of Mr. Imato’s residence?”

“Umm, well, yes, I do know,” the man took off his reading glasses, putting some papers down, now giving her his full attention. “But it is quite a private request, is something the matter with him?”

The Kikimora did not answer thoughtlessly. She was not there to bring to Mr. Alcántara’s attention the manner in which Mr. Imato had been handling his responsibilities. Yet, the chilling hunch that something bad had happened to him was enough to get her moving, against even her own master’s wishes.

“To be honest, there is, yes” she responded.

“Oh, that boy. I’m sure I know already what the matter is. I’ve told him time and time again, but he never listens. The way he overworks himself and will not take any help…” Mr. Alcántara took a quill pen and began scribbling into a small piece of paper. “I am really not getting that report today, am I? Never mind that, here is how you can get to his apartment. It is not too far away from here.”

Mr. Alcántara reached out his hand to give her the directions, which Kassandra very politely grabbed. She bowed to thank him for it, having made things easy for her. Reasonably, she had expected to be dissuaded and be told again to let Mr. Imato be, that there would be no practical need for her to check on him if he was taking a break from over-exhaustion. But on the contrary, Mr. Alcántara seemed to understand very well what she thought. He probably cared a ton about Mr. Imato.

“Well, please excuse me now, sir. I know this is unbefitting from a secretary. Thank you profoundly.”

“Do not worry, miss. I feel responsible for him, I gave him the job in the first place and have him doing so much… Please take good care of him,” he closed off with a peaceful smile.

Kassandra left the office building; not sure how long it would take, she took her handbag with her, and paid a Centaur to take her to the apartment complex where Mr. Anon Imato lived. She very well could have walked, as Anon did every day, but she wanted to be certain she would not get lost nor waste any time.

Anon lived a little to the south, still prominently in the center of the city, in an area where all of the buildings have kept their simple, colonial look of small balconies and thick-layered roofs in an adobe foundation. However, his apartment complex, despite being three stories tall, was amongst other rundown structures. It was clearly a place meant for college students or unwealthy single men, and it puzzled Kassandra as to why he would live in such a decrepit state considering his standing.

The hotel that the Still family secured their son and her was in the higher side of the valley, and she was used to see people a lot less favored than Mr. Imato going out from their fancy houses. All of that time she had assumed he had a good paying job, but maybe there was a more sinister reason to all of it and he was bought in a Caribbean slave trade, forced to do as per the bidding of the Company. Maybe Latin Americans really were some savages… Of course, that was just a funny thought, but she had no real explanation.

Going inside, the reception was embarrassingly dirty. Kassandra walked in and waited to be attended, but the man in the booth did his best to ignore her and fall asleep right then and there. When she tried speaking with him, he pointed at some stairs with his thumb and rested his head back on his chair, without ever opening his eyes. The annoying exchange irritated her, cursing in her head that useless Bogie bait, hoping he gets his lesson on doing his job properly soon.

To her good fortune, Mr. Alcántara did her the favor of writing down Mr. Imato’s apartment number too, so she looked for it by herself, forgetting entirely about the man downstairs. The apartment was easily found in the highest floor.

She knocked. The door might have been unlocked—which it was—but going inside uninvited would have been too much even for a rogue secretary like herself. She had to wait until either he opened the door or arrived home, like a proper professional.

She knocked again, louder than before. The aggressive tears that had peeled the wallpaper down, mixed with the obscured lighting of the hall, put her off ease. She could not feel safe standing right there. The roof and, especially, the floor were soiled and moisty, and her senses were bombarded by the state of that building. It all made her sick. She should have been hired to clean that place instead if she wanted nonstop work, and it probably would not have been enough to make the hallway look presentable.

She knocked once more, for the last time. An audible moan came from across the hall, an echo that followed and lingered on like the dragging of a body as someone walked up the stairs. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for her, it creeped her out far too much and she opened the door in a flight response, without a second to come to terms with it having been left unlocked. She entered the room, afraid of whoever could be outside.

“Oh, Monster Lord, I really did it. I just broke into his house,” she thought out loud.

She was inside the single room apartment, resting against the door. Facing against her was the contrasting neatness of Mr. Imato’s home that little resembled the other portions of the building. Directly across the room was a large window, covered by thin curtains. Beside it, in the left corner, his undone bed; at the bottom of it, a table with books and a typing machine. There were two leather sofas, some bookshelves, a coffee table, and many stacks of paper. She noticed there was little to no trash at all too.

The room was not orderly, but Kassandra could see that there was an honest effort to keep it clean, even if dust was thrown under the rug and many things laid on the floor. It was clear Mr. Imato had tried many times to properly clean but was never done before he made another mess. The room shared the same air of enclosure that his office had their first morning together, with that same suffocating smell of alcohol and static distress, just enough to call the place barely lived in.

Having seen the place, Kassandra could not stop herself from thinking “This is so like him…”

Kassandra walked around, trying to let every detail sink in. She was drawn to the table, the stacks of files on top of files astonished her, and there were more on the coffee table, on the bed and on the couches. Over one of the piles, there was a little book that called to her attention. It was a copy of the monstergirl encyclopedia, one of the Honduran versions; not really a complete one, but one that could do for a stranger to get the gist of certain species. She was about to take a look at it when she heard a creak from the door behind her.

Kassandra was locked in place when she saw the sickly figure that stumbled back into the room. Anon had not yet acknowledged her. A painful headache had made his morning hell; it went through him the same way a biblical drought would erase civilizations out of existence. Anon had walked outside with his trembling knees to get some fresh water after a long night awake and did not bother locking the door behind him.

The fact that his mind still worked in any capacity was a miracle to witness. That is why when he saw Ms. Resnick standing in the middle of his room he thought it might as well have been a mirage, not so different from some images running through his head frequently at the time. Anon had been thinking about her the night before.

Some nights back, on his way home, he bought a copy of La Enciclopedia de Chicas Monstruo. For the first time, he had been wondering about a certain species, and his curiosity finally caught up to him. Kikimoras, as the book briefly described them, come from a Slavic house spirit, though that was not the heart of what he was interested in. The book followed, they are often found working as servants of men that they might fancy—who they will refer to as their Master—and are deeply devoted and loyal to them.

“How lucky”, Anon thought to himself. He did not want to assume anything from the relationship that Mr. Forrester and Ms. Resnick shared, and it was not any of his business. Regardless, the thought that they shared a bond that would not be betrayed, which could not be betrayed, by any of the two… It made him jealous. He wanted to feel nothing of it, but it unwillingly stirred up his mind. In his view though, everything did. Everything made him upset, everything but work. A busy mind had no time being sad or feeling lonely.

He spent the entire night hunched over his table, working on future assignments and making drafts on the ones that followed. None of them were close to being finished, nor would he be able to finish them without key information yet to be discussed, but he felt they should already be dealt with. The report was already done anyways. The mental exhaustion and his lack of sleep closed a wire in his head, and his attempt at focusing double-crossed him and made him oversee a crucial detail: the next morning would not be a weekend. He genuinely thought it was a Saturday.

To him, someone who would keep working during weekends, it was almost an irrelevant fact, of no practical difference. The last couple of weeks were nothing but a blur, and seeing Mr. Resnick did not faze him. Instead, he thought “Oh, I’m really going to die, I should sleep a bit.” And so, he walked right beside an embarrassed secretary and threw himself on the bed, taking cover in his sheets.

“…”

Kassandra did not know how to take being completely ignored. Maybe if she left the place right then, she could still pretend she had her pride left intact.

“NO WAY!” Anon woke himself up, throwing the sheets up almost immediately after having lied down and scaring the living soul out of Kassandra. “The report! Oh, God!”

His head had just added 2 plus 2 and realized it could not possibly be Saturday, because the performance report had to be given on Friday and he still had it with him.

He jumped out of his bed, ready to grab the file on his desk, when he almost fell to the floor, unable to stand up with his own two legs. Instinctively, he stopped the fall by holding unto the table, dropping all of the documents that rested on it by mistake. Anon struggled to pull himself up with his thin arms and took a moment to let the mess he had just made sink in. He then hid his head between his arms.

“Oh, fuck.” How pathetic, he could not do something as simple as that.

“Mr. Imato…” Kassandra spoke up to him.

Anon’s eyes widened. A shock went directly from his brain down to his feet, realizing then that his visions were real and she was there with him.

“Ms. Resnick! What are you doing here?” He pushed out the little air he had in his lungs. He tried straightening his back, but lost his balance for a second and had to support himself on the table again.

“Look at yourself, mister. You are so pale and weak. Have you been sleeping at all?” she asked. “You would not have those bags under your eyes nor would you be unable to stand up by yourself if you had.”

Anon looked down at the files. “I… Do not worry, miss. The report… We have to give in the report, I’m ok…”

Anon had been trying very hard not to look at her, she had noticed. He always walked with his head down, but it was only her who he would never look at when talking. Nonetheless, Kassandra could look at him, she could see him as much as she could. For weeks, for as long as her master and her had been there, he had tried not to rely on anyone, as daunting of a prospect as it could be when having to balance two sets of responsibilities.

As a man in charge of the two of them, it was as if he was uncomfortable having them around. He tried isolating himself, keeping a distance so far away that it was intimidating having to cross the gap. But despite Anon’s efforts, Kassandra could not find it in her to be intimidated by him. What she saw in him was a man keeping up the farce that he could keep things under control. He was not intimidating; he was someone too obstinate to take any help.

“No, you are not ok, mister! Are you going to… Do you want me to let you die? You have been overworking yourself, sir. The report is not the issue here!” she loudly exclaimed.

Anon had never heard her speak in such a volume. Her eyes had a fiery look to them, she was the most confrontational he ever saw her, more than he could ignore. The secretary had not turned violent, but in her composure she could still bark strong enough to scold him. It made him more than step back, his head turned around looking for his repellent, and when he found it he could have taken it and sprayed it all over her. But he did not. He could not do that. Out of every monstergirl he had met, she was the one that would not scare him; he did not have it in him to do it because he knew she would not hurt him. And taking advantage of this, she walked around to block his way to the door, almost forcing him against the wall with every forward step she took.

The words Mr. Alcántara had told her still ran through her head. They reminded her why she was there, and justified any behavior she would have otherwise restrained herself from. “Mr. Alcántara entrusted me with you, and I cannot allow you to continue pushing yourself over the edge. I will not be neglectful.”

“… like you are.”, the blanks were there to be filled, Anon realized. However, the report was not what she was there for. As to why she would be so distress about, he had no idea.

Oh, that was it, Anon thought. She had been sent by Mr. Alcántara. For a second he almost got too full of himself, to let his imagination get the better of him.

“You… You shouldn’t have… You shouldn’t be worrying about something like this, Ms. Resnick…” he said.

“Why not, mister? Tell me!” Kassandra pushed Anon even further with another step. A little more and his back would have touched the windows.

Anon panicked, his hands turned sweaty from being confronted so directly. He was not used to it, and bad timing made him notice how much his sides hurt and how ridiculously difficult it was to breathe. His eyes rolled around, looking for a place to rest on so he could think and get out of that tight spot.

“You can’t be taking care of me, I’m a… Strictly speaking, I am not your boss, Ms. Resnick. Save yourself the energy for when Mr. Forre—…”

Kassandra extended her arms to hold Anon’s head in place. The light coming from the window fell over her, making all the gleaming brightness radiate from every feature in her face. The room was not particularly dark, but she just happened to stand directly into the light, as if she drew it towards herself. The warm touch of her soft palms pressed on to Anon’s cheeks, and he blushed hard trying to look away and being unable to, having to face her admonition and exasperation.

“You have been doing that so much, mister. You cannot even look at me, much less do you address me as a coworker. Can you not assume people care for others and want to help them?! Is that why you have been so cold with us? You might give Mr. Forrester something, but you have never asked me to do a single thing for you! Why can I not get the same level of respect? Do you hate me that much?”

“But Ms. Resnick, I’m not…” Anon’s head was firmly held by her, with a strength that her small body hid inside. He wanted to excuse himself, he wanted to go away, but she forced him to hear it all. She pierced him, she stared at him intensely, and in turn he had to look back. He had to look at her maple eyes, her fluffy hair, her rosy cheeks, her shapely eyebrows, her curly eyelashes; in a matter of seconds he had become familiar with just how beautiful she was. Piecing together a response was too much for his brains. “I wouldn’t want t—…”

“What, mister? Are you afraid to assign me things to do because I have Mr. Forrester as a master? You have said you are not my boss, but that is not true at all. You can ask me to do things, you can call me by my name and tell me if something is wrong. For as long as I work here, I am also your secretary. To me you two are the same and no different.”

Anon’s heart was stung by that. He could have easily lost himself and not pay attention to any of it, but he got everything, every last word, carved into his ears. He heard it all, and it had an impact in him. He did not want to let Ms. Resnick see his eyes moisten up as he knew they probably were, and he fought for a second so she would let him go, but it was of no use.

“Ms. Resnick, please, let me…”

“What is it? You can count on me, just as you count on Mr. Forrester. No, you should count on us much more! You do not have to do everything by yourself, mister,” she boldly proclaimed. “I just do not understand why you keep avoiding me no matter what.”

Anon tried his best to hold back the overwhelming emotions that might spill out of him as if he were a kettle pot, but he was ultimately unable to. He finally spoke, saddened by the weight only he knew his next words would carry.

“Your eyes are too beautiful, I can’t bear to see,” Anon stared into her, hoping she would not notice how much his hands were shaking and how much tears were welling up. “I keep going back to things I don’t want to remember, and it pains me in my heart so much I wish I could just disappear.”

He pulled back, free from Kassandra’s grip. She held her hands up, having given a step back as well. Her face had reddened completely, and she had to cover her mouth wide open. Her entire expression had turn around, left speechless and withdrawn. For a while, both of them were left like that.

Anon flushed harder than before, and his heart kept pounding faster and faster. His body was already weak, but at that moment he had to lay against the wall or else he would have fallen down. Now that he could look away, he was desperate for something that would change the subject, but he had been hooked. His eyes kept being pulled by her and the bewilderment in her face. She was not going to say anything soon enough, so he had to swallow it.

“I—I am so sorry. I know you don’t want or need to hear any of this,” Anon collected himself as he went on. As he spoke, the words began coming out as they pleased, becoming a coherent thought only after the fact. “I didn’t want to be a bother. I couldn’t bring myself to depend on you, how could I possibly? It’s my job, it’s my responsibility, and yet… It’s such a mess, every time I enter the office it’s such a mess, and not because of you… It’s not because of you or Mr. Forrester… It was all there and I couldn’t let you breathe…”

Anon broke away from the wall; he could not stand anymore. His breathing was still very heavy, but he made his way a few steps so he could sit on his bed. He took a long breath and looked up to the ceiling thinking how embarrassing it all was.

Kassandra felt decisively distressed looking at him after hearing his words. She had dragged her feet back enough to meet again with the door from which she barged in. It had to sink in her mind how truly inappropriate her actions had been. Now it was her time to respond, but nothing she could say would help. She knew it, and it made her regret putting him in that position, but she still worried for him so much.

“You shouldn’t have to carry my weight… I have to do it, you know? I need the pressure and the stress. I need to be busy. Any tax it might take on my body can’t compare to… Well, I can’t rest. I have to go on like this.” Anon held his forehead up with his hand, resting his arm on his lap. He grew more and more embarrassed as he went on talking. There was no reason to take things out on Ms. Resnick, but for some reason he could not stop himself. “I really did not want to be a bother.”

Kassandra felt afflicted in her chest looking at him after he said that. She wondered how she could have been so intrusive to push him like that. Maybe it should not have been her who went to look for him. Right then she was not able to think properly, should have anyone else taken her place? Should have anyone gone to look for him? He could very well have been one of those cases that they usually gave to Mindflayers. What could she possibly do? As the silence stretched on, it became harder for her to say something.

“Why would you assume this would be for the better? Did you have to keep yourself so distant? That is so…” Kassandra gave a step forward, she tried to make up her mind.

“I didn’t know what else to do, what could I say? If everyone was let to be maybe that would have been enough for me to get away with it…” Anon left out a dry laugh, lost in his own train of thought. He had to stop, even at that time he would only stumble by saying too much. The silence that followed again turned the room into an awkward contest to see who would say something first.

“I do not hate you, mister,” Kassandra said, to much of his surprise. “I am sure my master would not feel like that as well. You were unfair with us, but… I think there must be another way to go about all of this, I am sure. Be it work or be it whatever, the three of us should be able to find a solution to this, mister. Please consider speaking to us if there is anything we can do.”

Anon understood what she meant. Despite his insistence, there was no way she would have accepted his words at face value. What she really wanted to do was to turn things around, to ask him if it really had not been her or Forrester who had been a bother.

“Really, that shouldn’t…” Anon drowned in guilt. No matter how much he ran away, there was always something he would do that would bite him back.

Kassandra did not stop. She walked to him, closing their distance, taking the chance to speak with a much softer voice than usual. Her neutral tone changed drastically to a much more compassionate one.

“This must not be much to you, sir, but we do not enjoy to be left out of business, much less at your health’s expense. If you let us help you, there should not be any concern to be had about us.”

“Is that right...?” Anon looked down at his feet.

“I am the same, mister,” she said.

Anon did not immediately look up, but Kassandra waited. She wanted him to stop hiding his face, and eventually, he did. He saw her once more, just to peek at how graceful and tender she was, curious about how that could possibly be. There must not have been a single thing they shared in common at all, not with someone like him.

“I also have nothing else other than my job, sir. I understand how you feel, but…” Kassandra looked down. Since the atmosphere had lightened a tiny bit, she had her gaze resting over her own hands, firmly held together. She did not want to ask something as a favor, but as things stood she had to say something like that. “Please take care of yourself, mister.”

Anon’s mind had been stirring for long, but every time Ms. Resnick had something to say and her words lingered on even after having closed her mouth it felt like the dust was for once settling in peace. Something had gotten through to him, somehow he understood that she was right.

He had been selfish. Just how wrong had he been really? It was a bad habit of his to pettily obsess over and over about his own delusions. The fact that he had uselessly forced her to worry for his wellbeing and make a show of compassion just because of that was not at all gratifying. Deep inside him, it felt revolting and undeserved. Had he no sense of shame?

Kassandra heard Anon sigh and raised her head to look at him. He had been thinking for a bit, and whatever was on his mind, she could only hope for the best. She stood quietly in front of him until he finally moved. “God, what am I doing?”

“You win, miss,” he said calmly, with a tiny hint of resolve. He had chosen to rectify his mistake.

Kassandra was hesitant to get excited at first, but a smile escaped her when Anon turned to the bed.

“If I need rest, I assure you I will get some, miss. We will gather on Monday morning and distribute the load of work properly. This time I’ll be responsible…” Anon said. “I’ll be sensible, I promise. I won’t keep rambling on, so please forgive me if that was too much.”

“Oh, that will not be necessary, mister…” The tranquility in Anon’s voice reassured Kassandra and made her smile again in honest relief. She was glad for him. She could also not hold back from being a little bit proud in herself for going to check on him. There was a rush of satisfaction that compelled her to call it a success.

“No, really.” Anon looked at her. “I hope you can forgive me, Ms. Resnick.”

Kassandra was taken back by the force in his voice. They were looking at each other, and she could see that he was hoping she would understand what he meant. To her, it was funny. He was apologizing to her that intensely after having done nothing egregious, but she knew he was too sleepy to know better.

“Really, mister. I assure you I forgive you,” she grinned respectfully.

“Thank goodness then,” Anon sighed, relieved to hear that. The strain in his back had been put at ease.

He laid down on the bed, taking cover and snuggling under the sheets. His frail body had felt the complete effect of all the excess stress, but at the very least being able to resolve things with her peacefully gave him a speck of comfort. He would have fallen asleep right then if he had not seen her walking over to the desk at the end of the bed and crouching down to grab everything Anon had dropped from the table.

“Hold on, Ms. Resnick… There’s no need…” Anon began saying, until Kassandra glared at him to stop.

“No, there is a need, mister. I will help you with this as you go to sleep. That is the most important thing right now,” she refuted. “I shall excuse myself out after this, please pay no mind.”

Faced by her seriousness, Anon knew he had to comply, not to make emptiness out of his own words. He understood what the gesture implied.

“Then can you do me a favor, miss?”

“Of course, sir, anything.”

"Could you please take the report on your way out and close the door?” Anon asked her.

Kassandra was picking up pages and files from the floor into stacks of paper when she replied: “Gladly, mister. Was the report with these papers?” She stood up for a second to see if it was on the desk as well, before Anon could even answer.

“No, it’s right over there in the coffee table…” Anon quietly responded, turning around and looking at the center of the room where he had pointed to, at the file right under his copy of La Enciclopedia de Chicas Monstruo.

Oh, if she were to see that he had left a bookmark on the Kikimora entry, that would be embarrassing, or so he cringed at the thought.

Kassandra gave a chuckle when she opened the book out of her own curiosity, to Anon’s dismay. She then glanced at him with a smug grin on her face, as he anxiously pretended he was asleep, but she knew. They both knew.

Kassandra wanted to be of more help if possible. Maybe she could organize the papers she was picking up. She was tempted to read them and get them into the correct order, but sadly, she did not know which order that was, so she had to conform with that. Anon saw her through all of it, thinking about nothing. The serenity of the moment took over him, until she finished picking everything up.

Finally, Kassandra made her way to the door, done with everything she had set herself to do there in the first place. She turned back for one last quick look at the room. It was something that she had no intention of addressing, but having seen where Mr. Anon lived, she became more curious about him. It was pretty obvious that there was no such thing as a wife around, as expected. She knew better than to question it, since it probably was a touchy subject. Still, she held the report with both her hands, excited to fulfill the first order Mr. Imato gave her.

“Thank you, Ms. Resnick.” Anon said from bed.

She could have pouted then. He would keep calling her by her last name as if they were nothing but passing acquaintances, but she was no one to whine. She looked over at him, catching his eyelids closing ever so slowly from the fatigue he was under.

“You’re welcome, mister. See you tomorrow,” She took a last look at him through the small opening of the door before shutting it close, disappearing alongside her composed smile. Gone, the entire room rippled in the same way the mind does after waking up from a dream.

Anon was left in the quiet solitude of his apartment, wondering if it had always been that peaceful. There was no buzzing and no screeching, in his head or outside. Anon contemplated the ceiling for a little bit before closing his eyes. He felt a sense of refreshment washing away his soul, and he fell asleep without interruption for the next few hours.

The rest-assured cover of the weekend was shortly lived, all in all, and once the Monday morning arrived, Kassandra walked into the office building early as ever. The difference, that particular day, was that her master came in with her. It had been a while since the two arrived at the same time, and it brought back the memory of getting there for their first day. Unlike then, however, they knew there was something to be discussed. Forrester was urging to get a word with Mr. Anon.

He had been there waiting, inside the office, as Kassandra finally came back from Mr. Anon’s apartment. No one had bothered making him aware of what was going on, and even if he empathized with her, at the time he took out his anger by reprimanding her. Something his father had been adamant in passing on was the strength to firmly scold the staff regardless; she had disobeyed him, and Mr. Anon had exhausted all his patience.

Forrester had tried to be understanding, but that Friday afternoon when the tiresome façade that everything was going well had fallen, he could not help being upset. He refused to listen to Kassandra’s corroboration, and once he calmed down he simply stated “I want to speak to Mr. Anon directly”. Nothing would sway him to pity the man, he would do just what had to be done.

Kassandra was anxious of the whole ordeal, cautious of any possible hostilities. Mr. Forrester had calmed down through the weekend, but his stern and impassive gaze had not moved. She was guilty of her own actions and the dishonor that they brought, but she would be there to witness the resolution, hoping for any good to come by.

Forrester opened the door, half-expecting and half-amused by Mr. Anon’s presence there. His mind was preoccupied until hearing them enter, which dazed him as he pushed himself to stand up.

“Oh, Mr. Forrester… I see you’ve come early today…” he said.

“Yes, I have. I’ve been wanting to have a word with you, mister.”

Forrester’s low voice took Anon by surprise, piling on his nerves. He looked at Ms. Resnick, who kept her head down and swiftly redirected his eyes back to her master. Anon could not imagine Mr. Forrester had been angered to the degree he was, and the man he had come to know as a lenient person was now up against him.

Forrester stepped forward, closing the space between Anon and him. Anon gulped as this foreigner towered above him, the most combative he had seen him. He had to embrace the possibility that his underling would raise his hand against him, despite his knowledge that he was not the type to resort to violence. That left him perplexed, agitated; Forrester could tell.

But looking at his sweat, at the daunted expression of his mentor, the accusations hardly came out. He could not find the reasons to be enraged for longer. Forrester sighed. “No, this is stupid…”

Anon and Kassandra were thrown off to the side, Forrester turned around and sat over Kassandra’s desk, blowing off the steam that he would have used to blame the world on Anon. He would not do that though.

“Let’s save all of this, Mr. Anon. What’s going on?”

“Wait, Mr. Forrester, if you want to speak your mind, please do, I want to hear you out…” Anon gathered his courage to push something, anything, out, so that his desire to make things right would not fall to his one-sidedness.

“No, I can’t do this. It wouldn’t help a bit, platitudes and the like… You know exactly what you’ve done, don’t you?” Forrester stared at him, and Anon nodded. “So why don’t you go on and we end this?”

Anon breathed out, sure that he had to take responsibility and accept his own mistake. From behind his back, he took out something hiding from them and offered it as he extended his arms. He had come to do this and nothing else.

“A bouquet?!” Kassandra exclaimed, holding her breath not to laugh.

“What the heck?!” Forrester blushed. They both were very confused, taken by surprise.

Anon bowed his head, exactly like he had seen Kassandra do multiple times, and kept the orchids he brought high so they could see them. “Mr. Forrester, I owe you an apology. I owe the two of you an apology. I’m sorry.” Anon looked at the two of them after saying that. His eyes met with Forrester’s before moving to Kassandra’s. “These are for you, so please forgive me.”

“The flowers are for us?” Forrester tried to ascertain again, completely confused.

“Yes, I brought them for you.” Anon answered the question, posing a straightforwardness that would have been inconceivable for him just days before.

A soft giggle escaped from between Kassandra’s hands as they covered her mouth, but she quickly recovered her composure. A big laugh came from her master, nonetheless, Forrester could not contain it.

“My God, that’s… so indulgent...!” Forrester was befuddled, he could not have expected that in any way. Any shallowness was overtaken by the struggle in his voice, the urgency in his pitch. Even if Anon had been an stranger, he could tell he wanted to be sincere. It all was too funny he had to burst out laughing.

“Wait, Mr. Forrester…!” Anon’s face turned red in embarrassment. Turning to Kassandra, she only moved her head and told him to stay with it, which he could not for much longer without saying something else. Forrester’s chuckling drilled into his ears until he accepted it. “Mr. Forrester, I am sorry if I made you upset.”

“Goodness gracious…” Forrester’s laughter slowly came to an end. “Mr. Anon, I was mad…”

“I know. I shouldn’t have been so self-centered and… patronizing… That won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Yes, I know,” Forrester smiled. He stepped to the side and reached for his seat. “I know, so let’s get to work.”

“Hold on! That’s it?” Anon asked.

“Yeah, what else could there be?” Forrester replied.

“I—I had to ask you if you preferred being delegated to someone else. You’re on your right to if that’s what you…”

“Mr. Anon, look around. There is no one else as knowledgeable about their job as you are, I still think you are the best person around to mentor me. Why would I go to someone else? Who would I go to? I’ve learned so much during my time here with you, I doubt anyone would have taught me as much.”

Anon said nothing, he had to stop to think. He could not possibly accept a swift absolution just like that. Did he deserve such a thing? Unlike Mr. Forrester and Ms. Resnick, he did not work out of passion, it was denial, standing before a task and getting it over in the same way a combustion engine would fuel its motion. He was directionless, he could not lead himself let alone anyone else. Through apologetics he might have made things right, but expecting them to stick with him was worthless.

“Mr. Forrester, I compromised our responsibilities carelessly, please think about this…”

Kassandra had also stepped forward, with similar worries. “Master, take your time to consider.”

“I wouldn’t arrive at a different conclusion. You brought the report yesterday, Kassie. We didn’t miss the dateline, despite everything. Isn’t that proof enough? Who else would have been able to do that? Don’t sell yourself short, mister, I wouldn’t let a mistake like that fly from anyone else, but I need you. I’m forced to bet on you, so let’s make a deal.”

Anon looked around, slow to any compliments. On the other side of the room, Kassandra tried to make sense of her master’s quick change in judgement, holding back from letting her inclinations favor the decision. Either way, she came to agree, and it all came down to Mr. Anon’s willingness to accept their terms. Anon could not believe someone would think his place was of any importance.

“What deal?” Anon questioned.

“We start over, mister. We forget about the last few weeks, if you promise that things will change, of course. I came to this country looking for practical experience, so please let me do what I can freely.”

“Please extend that to me as well,” Kassandra pleaded.

Anon brought the white bouquet to his chest, tightening his grasp over it. He could tell what the right choice was. All of that time they had been doing what he thought they ought to. He tried to measure up to their standards, afraid of what would happen if they saw eye to eye, but that front could only replace pity with animosity. That would be the last chance to reevaluate his priorities, and Anon wanted to believe he could look at them with the same dignity.

He took the flowers and put them over his desk, conceding once more. “Ok, I promise. Let’s have a fresh start then.” Anon smiled to himself when he saw their look, happy to have been able to do something properly for once.

The tranquility he had met the prior Friday had run its course, but right then he could feel the echo of a breeze soothing his heart. Sitting down to figure out a concrete plan with Mr. Forrester, Anon saw Ms. Resnick walk up to him and grab the orchids. He stared up to her and she said “I think these might look pretty next to the window, mister. May I?”.

“Please do, then,” Anon replied. The two looked at each other. Having seen the state he was in the other day, Kassandra could tell the difference. He had not become a different person, just transparent, and she was glad for that reliability to be finally forthright.

The following morning, Anon found himself back in front of his desk, writing down his notes with ink and pen and occasionally taking his typewriter out. Returning to his precious solitude during working hours had been a strange experience. It was not quite like he remembered it, but that was a given due to the two extra desks.

Anon sighed to himself. Things would always find a way to turn back to normal, he figured. After getting to work with the foreigners, they came to the agreement that would better suit them all, and that was it for him. All he had to do was to learn to be fine with things as they were, with how he was.

Anon smirked. He still could not believe how highly Mr. Forrester actually thought of him; a warm feeling of pride glowed inside. That at least should have kept him content, but looking over to the window and the flowerpot sitting right next to it, he knew there was so much he could do.

Then, a creak from the door alerted Anon that someone had entered his comfortable realm. After a soft clacking on the floor he had recently grew familiar to, he knew exactly who it was, but he was confused as to what she was doing there right then.

“Good morning, mister,” Kassandra greeted.

“Ms. Resnick… What are you doing here? I thought you should be keeping Mr. Forrester company right now,” Anon replied, stunned by the sight. Her face was a little redder than usual, and she looked out of breath.

“I apologize. It really was too hot for me out there,” she laughed as she turned on the electrical fan standing tall in the corner of the room closest to the door.

Anon was incredulous, but as she took a folded fan from her purse and started fanning her face, he came closer to feeling sorry for her. “It takes a while to adapt…”

“I must commend by master for enduring the heat every day. I would have tried to, but he ordered me to come here after seeing my face. It was scorching hot for me.”

“It was bad enough you couldn’t wait to do the full tour?” Anon was actually impressed. Ms. Resnick looked indeed like she had broken a sweat, but he could not picture her boiling down from anything.

“It is been said that we are not build for this kind of weather. I guess it fits us Kikimoras better to hide indoors,” Kassandra answered. “That means I will be here with you for now, mister. I hope that does not bother you.”

Anon looked at her. She smiled as she kept fanning herself, walking through the room. He should have laughed at himself, but he was a little too tired for that. Instead, he whispered to himself “Not at all…”

“Oh, my! What is this, sir?” When Kassandra had finally refreshed from her outing, she sat down and saw on her desk a typewriter, not her master’s or Mr. Imato’s.

“I…” Anon blushed. He had bought it for her as a gift. “I’m sorry you went so long without one, miss. You’re a secretary, it should be indispensable for you!”

“Monster Lord, you should not have…” Kassandra felt her heart almost skip a beat after that. Had he been emboldened by her visit? She found it cute.

“I—I’m not trying to win you over with gifts, I would have bought it even if Mr. Forrester chose to go somewhere else, I swear.”

Kassandra laughed “I know, mister, do not worry. It makes me happy, thank you a lot.”

“I’m glad, then…” Anon shook a little, he had to be sure he would not expect anything in return. He knew how eager she was to work, and in turn he had to focus on his duties as well. That was it. “I’m still trying to make up for all your troubles… So we’re even now.”

“Either way, sir, is there anything I could do to…?”

“No, I won’t accept it.” Anon stubbornly rejected the idea.

“I guess that is fine for me as well…” she muttered. She knew better than to force herself again; for as long as she would be there, their relationship would be that of a boss and a secretary, and she had to respect that. However, a Kikimora could not be detained from returning a favor of all things, and if he wanted to be even, then she would wait for the chance to.

“But if you want to, you can drop the ‘Mr. Imato’,” he said, leaning down to his table. “That’s still my father, and it’s been driving me a little insane these days if I’m honest with you.”

“Would it be fine to call you Mr. Anon then, sir?”

“I told Mr. Forrester not to call me ‘sir’ as well… Isn’t that too much?”

“Very well… I’ll abstain from that too, Mr. Anon. I hope that makes us even.”

“Thank you, K—…” Anon cut himself short. It almost slipped out of his tongue, so fast that he did not even realize he had also dropped the “miss” entirely as well. “Thank you, Ms. Resnick.”

Kassandra giggled. Anon had an ability to make things appear both insignificant and profound, even if his tone tried to imply none. To think they had trouble talking to him was outrageous; up-close he resembled a book left out in the open, a puzzle left halfway done. It had not been a strike of good luck, she was glad her master had stayed with him.

And to him, the rest of the day passed without much struggle. Working in silence until noon came by and Forrester arrived to join them, then doing some more and finally seeing them leave as per usual. The American and his assistant had let him write over their past routine something eerily similar, but a lot better. He still stayed a little longer, he still had to finish what little he had to do by himself, but unlike other nights, he knew they went home satisfied with their own work. Anon would not get any sleep regardless, but he knew they did, and a thought like that relaxed him quite a bit.

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