How Far chapter 16: Working order

	I exit our room, closing the door behind me with a heavy heart. I don’t want to go to work with Akira. The faint ghost of Lilly’s lips is practically haunting me. I want nothing more than to go back in there and have a ‘strenuous heart test.’ Nevertheless, I know that I must go to Akira so we can just get started on this… whatever this is.

	I walk across the hall with a heavy heart and knock on Akira’s door. There isn’t any response. Part of me wants to take that as ‘work’s closed, go on home to your stunning girlfriend' and just walk back to my room. I force the thought to the back of my mind. Whining about it won't help.

	I reach down to twist the door handle, hearing another door close as I open this one. I look to an interior door where I think the noise had come from before looking around the room itself. It’s a bedroom, and like mine and Lillys, it seems more akin to a hotel room than one that belongs in a home. It takes me a moment to see the small changes Akira has been able to inflict on the room since she arrived. A comb left out, a towel thrown on the floor, a suitcase that lies open next to the dresser, in addition to a closet that seems to have a dozen of the same exact outfit.

	“Jeez,” I mutter to myself, “you’d think she’d wear something other than black sometimes…”

	I walk across the room to the door I had heard shut, figuring that had been where Akira had gone. I twist the handle and start to open the door when a sudden thought strikes me… What if this is her personal bathroom?

	“Please tell me you changed.” Comes Akira’s voice in a casual tone.

	The tension ebbs out of my shoulders. I open the door fully to see that Akira is sitting at her desk with a smirk on her face. She places a yellow folder she’d been holding onto the desk. “Better. You look horrible in purple.”

	She must mean my pajama shirt I had been wearing. “What can I say, I like color. Grey is so… eh.” I say looking down at myself, holding my arms out. The dress shirt fits nicely, although it feels a bit stiff and 'new'.

	“Well you’re dressed for ‘eh’ work, at least.” Akira says, breathing out a laugh. “Alright, we’re switching. [Can you understand me?]”

	English. I nod my head. “[Yes. I can say as well as understand simple English.]” I force myself to recall one of the earliest lessons we had. We had to learn how to say we could or could not understand really early. While I couldn’t read Pride and Prejudice, I could manage some basics.

	“[Okay,]” she went on, holding up the folder. “[What I %@@@ you two @% is @#$@ &#@&@ !!!%^@#%# two !&$%^. Okay?]”

	Or… not…

	“[I am scared I do not understand.]” I say.

	Akira drops her head back with a groan.

	“[You aren’t scared. Afraid. You are afraid.]” She says, shaking her head. She continues, gesturing to the boxes. “[!%$%^]”

	She looks pointedly at me. I shake my head. “[Sorry…]”

	Akira sighs and stands from her desk, mumbling to herself. I can pick out Lilly’s name, but nothing more. She opens up one of the boxes and pulls out a handful of files. They seem to be colored between yellow and green files, however a few of another color breaks up the monotony.

	“[Green *#&# green.]” she says, stacking the green files together. She then pulls over an empty box and places the two green files into it. I nod now, understanding. Green goes with green. “[Yellow *#&# yellow.]” She continues, stacking two yellow folders and placing them into a separate empty box. She looks up to me. “[Understand?]”

	“Ye- [Yes. Thank you.]” I say, bowing my head slightly. She nods and returns to her desk. I sit down at the boxes and begin separating the files.

	The green files are the most plentiful. There’s a few of them labeled with numbers, I think that’s the insignia for United States dollars…  These must be green because they’re about money. The yellow files have different labels with inked stamps. I can’t really pick out what these are, although I guess that’s not my job.

	It’s not the most mentally demanding task, but I guess it needs doing. One after another, I pull file after file from the box and set them aside, piling them together in their individual boxes. I have to wonder what exactly these are all used for. Trying to imagine why they’re all mixed already, I determine it must be because Akira had brought these over from the Japanese office.

	It’s not long before I come to a file that puzzles me. It isn’t green or yellow. It’s red. “[Hello, Akira?]” I say to get her attention. “[Red?]” I lift the file up for her to see.

	Akira looks up to see me holding the file. She waves me to her and takes the file with a sigh. “[It’s good you don’t speak English well…]” She mumbles.

	I feel like I wasn’t supposed to understand that… She looks up to the ceiling and stretches her neck before tossing the file down in front of her, causing the papers inside it to be jostled. I can see what looks like a bit of some sort of image sticking out from the folder. “[Here. Put red here.]” She says, and she stabs her finger on top of it. I nod, then return to my spot on the floor.

	Well that was weird… I try to shrug it off mentally and return to working, but what she said is sticking with me.

	The next time I get to a red file, I find myself looking more closely at it as I rise to give it to Akira. There a stamp, a word in English. C… Con… And then it’s gone, placed on her desk before I could finish reading it. She still is sifting through the yellow file she had been in earlier. It looked like she was writing some sort of report. She looks up as I place it down and nods at me smiling, and I go back to work.

	A thought seems to be nagging at me as I continue my task. The red files seem to be few and far between, as I finish unloading the first box without seeing any more of them. I tell myself that my curiosity is completely natural, I mean it’s a new job and I’m asked to just separate folders into boxes? Not the most intellectually demanding task. Of course my mind will wander.

	I finish a second and a third box before I find myself searching around for some sort of clock. This is boring. It’s repetitive, and frankly seems like a waste of time. I look over to Akira and see she still has the same folder from before. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes and yet I feel like I’ve been here an hour already.

	Where before I had been individually pulling files, I find myself now grabbing a few at a time and flicking through to make sure they’re all matching. A handful of green, one yellow, a handful of green, another handful of green, three yellow, a handful of green. As my finger thumbs across the folders I can see page after page after page of documents inside. I can’t imagine somebody reading through all of these. Are these separated by department? Expenditures? Anything other than simple colors?

	The monotony of the act is setting in and I can feel the urge to stand up and walk around. This is literally worse than doing school work. Am I getting paid for this? You could hire a child to do-

	And then, something breaks off my thoughts. A red file in the handful of green I held, and as I thumb over them the red folder opens just enough that I can see something that isn’t just another paper. It’s a picture of a young Japanese woman. She has brown hair tied into two lengthy twin-tails and is wearing a light blue uniform. The girl looks young, I'd guess early twenties, and her happy smile causes the memory of Emi to flash in my mind. The picture looks almost like an employee ID.

	I shake my head and pull the file from the handful of green, holding it tightly closed. I get up and stretch out my legs, feeling them tense along with my back as I walk over to Akira’s desk and neatly stack the file on top of the other two.

	Akira doesn’t even look up from her writing this time. God this is boring. “[There is maybe something I can do?]” I ask, hoping she’ll give me something that makes me use more of my brain then sorting colors.

	“[You’re @%#% @#%@ Hisao.]” She replied, still not looking at me. I do my best to hide my annoyance.

	What even is the point of this, I want to ask. My mind flicks to Lilly, to our shared bed, and I keep my mouth shut. I shouldn’t be complaining. After all, having a boring job and being with Lilly is better than having no job and being at home.

	I drop back on the floor and return to filing, trying to focus on the good of the situation instead of wallowing in the mundane.
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	“[What time did you say it was?]” I ask the cook that is assisting me.

	“[It’s half past two, Ms. Satou.]” She replies, her fine wording at ends with her rough Scottish accent.

	“[Perfect.]” I reply, and bow my head to her in thanks. “[If you’d please give me the tray, I will bring it up to them.]”

	I extend my arms forwards and feel the weight of the metal tray slide into them. I balance the tray evenly, knowing that the two bowls of soup and three sandwiches should be properly cared for. A bowl of soup and a sandwich for Akira and Hisao, as well as simple sandwich for myself.

	I suppose I could ask the cook to serve it, however I like it more this way. It feels as if I’m doing more for him.

	Them, I correct myself. ‘More for them’.

	“[Will you be needing any assistance getting to Ms. Akira’s room?]”

	“[If it’s no trouble.]” I say, trying to give the cook an innocent expression. Truth was it took me most of an hour to find the kitchen, and that was mostly by luck and sense of smell. My parents’ manor was so large, and I’d not had time to memorize the steps yet.

	“[Of course, Ms. Satou.]”

	I hear her footsteps ahead of me and do my best to navigate behind her whilst balancing the tray. It’s a little heavy, though nothing I cannot manage.

	She stops to unlock the door of the kitchen, and bids me through it before leading me along through the living room. Rain still patters against the windows, and thunder booms to remind me that the storm is still in full swing.

	The servant leads me along silently, something I much appreciate. Admittedly, my mood is a bit on the sour side after not being able to help Hisao with his workout this morning. Even just walking around the manor proper would have been a decent workout. Maybe even just carrying food to our room. I muse to myself happily thinking of Hisao bringing breakfast in bed for us to enjoy together. This is going to be so wonderful.

	We go on, proceeding up the stairs and around a few turns before finally coming to a halt at the end of a long hall.

	“[We have arrived Ms. Satou. Want me to knock?]”

	I let out a small huff as I shift the heavy tray in my arms. “[No, thank you. I’ll be able to handle myself from here.]” I reply.

	“[As you wish, ma’am,]” she says. She then departs.

	Sliding one hand beneath the center of the tray, I reach my hand out and firmly knock on the door thrice. I slide my hand back under the tray, and hold it slightly away from my body and towards the door. I try to mentally picture myself for when Hisao opens the door, his loving girlfriend thoughtfully bringing him something to eat. I can feel the heat in my cheeks rising as I anticipate his reaction.

	I really enjoy the idea of being matrimonial for him. The food for Akira is simply a bonus, I admit to myself.

	A few moments go by though, and my picturesque stance lessens a bit. My arms ache with the weight of the meals on them. I’d carried them all the way from the kitchen after all...

	I slide the full weight of the tray back onto my one arm and knock thrice more. “Hisao? Akira? Are you in there?” I call through the door.

	No response.

	“You two better not have gone out for lunch without me…” I grumble to myself as I reach around with my free hand for the doorknob. Of all the things I dislike about being in a western country, doorknobs are high on the list. It’s just so much simpler to have a sliding door for me to pull back easily. After grasping at the left side of the door to no avail, I find the knob on the right, awkwardly leaning over the food to reach it. The knob twists in my hand and the door opens with a grunt of effort.

	“I-I brought you some lunch.” I call into the room, sweeping my other arm back beneath the tray. I feel the aching in my other arm lessen, and only now notice it’s slight tremble. Oh I hope I haven’t spilled…

	“Hello?” I call into the room.

	I step forwards. Still no response. Akira and Hisao have obviously gone. Groaning with frustration and effort, I step into the room. I need to find a place to put this tray down before I drop it everywhere.

	“Now where could they have gone off to?” I wonder aloud, pouting to myself. I decide my grumbling can wait, and try to find some sort of place to put the tray.

	The creaking of another door in the room surprises me into nearly jumping out of my skin.

	“Lilly?” Hisao asks.

	“Hisao!” I exclaim, hurriedly trying to wipe the frustration from my face. I hold the tray out towards him, attempting to wear the smile I’d had at the door. “I got lunch for you. Oh, and Akira as well. And me, if I can stay for a little. I hope you don’t mind.” I say, laughing slightly and stepping forwards to go to him.

	“Wait Lilly wat-” He starts.

	My foot connects with something hard and I feel myself scream out in surprise as I my body begins to pitch forwards.
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	I arch my back, feeling my shoulders groaning as they squeeze my spine into a fixed shape. I’ve been sitting here for what feels like the entire day just sorting files based on colors.

	This whole thing just feels useless and meaning less. Hell, even Lilly could probably do it. She’d find a way to feel the ink on the folders as some sort of differentiation and be able to sort them just fine.

	I shake my head, trying to banish the bitterness of my thoughts. Even Lilly could probably do it this without issue. She'd find some way to go all super human and feel the difference in the textures or something. I just wish I could be more helpful. Maybe if I looked into some of these folders…

	The sound of a voice in the other room suddenly grabs my attention. I hear a voice call out, but can’t make out what it says.

	“Was that Lilly?” Akira asks, looking up from her paperwork towards the door and apparently forgetting the English rule. She checks her wrist, and I notice the gleam of silver as she pulls her sleeve up. “It’s only been an hour. You two are like puppies, you know that? Go and tell her we’re busy. We need to get this filing done, and have a lot of work to do.”

	I’m not about to point out the usage of Japanese to her, this English is giving me a headache. I simply nod and rise from my position on the floor.

	If Lilly had come to see us, I was at least going to give her a proper greeting. I don’t know who Akira thinks she is but I’m not just going to send Lilly on her way if she went through the trouble of checking up on us.

	I open the door and hear the shaking of cutlery before the door is even fully open. When it does, I see standing by Akira’s dresser is Lilly holding a large tray of food items.

	The poor girl looks like a mess. Her face is blotchy red from exertion, she has flecks of sweat on her brow as well as some spots from some sort of liquid on her blouse. I can see one of her sleeves is dripping onto the carpet with wetness, and that her arms are shaking with effort as she holds a heavy looking platter of food in them with three plates of sandwiches and two bowls that seem to have emptied about a quarter of their contents onto the tray and sandwiches.

	“Lilly?” I ask in bewilderment.

	Her face, contorted with what looks like irritation and effort, snaps into a forced smile that seems to split her lips ear to ear.

	“Hisao!” She shouts in a surprised and excitable tone. She thrusts the tray forwards harshly, causing more contents of the bowls to lap over the edges. “I got lunch for you! Oh, and Akira as well! And me, if I can stay for a little! I hope you don’t mind!” She lets out a harsh forced giggle that only adds horror to the image as she steps forwards, marching right towards Akira’s open suitcase.

	Not waiting for my mouth to start working, my body instinctively rushes forwards

	“Wait Lilly wat-”

	Her foot connects with the suitcase, kicking it forwards and smashing the lid against her shin. She lets out a scream as she begins to pitch forwards, her fingers tightly gripping the tray in front of her raising it up over her head.

	Rushing forwards, I grab her across the body and push her backwards. Her thigh slams against the dresser, and I feel a burning hot sensation smack into my back that makes me yelp in pain.

	Together, Lilly and I get her footing back.

	“Ah son of a-” I say, whipping at my shoulder. I feel the hot trickle of the soup sliding down my back.

	“Oh my, oh my! Hisao!?” Lilly calls to me in a panic. My arms are supporting hers, however she still holds the tray aloft. She’s shaking, and her eyes are wide with fear.

	“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I whisper to her through gritted teeth. “I’ve got you. Here, let me take that.”

	I reach up to the tray and touch her hands. And motion to take the tray from her. She holds the tray with a vice like grip, but after a few moments she relents.

	“Hey, is everything okay?” Akira had entered the door and was now looking at us. I take the tray and place it down steadily on the dresser.

	“We’re fine, Akira.” I say to her trying to play off the pain. It’s fading quickly, though the wetness has now trickled to my dress pants. “Just a bit of an accident, it’s no trouble.”

	“I – I –” Lilly stammers. She reaches her hands out towards me looking so very lost. Her red face has grown even redder, and I can clearly see tears in her unseeing eyes. “I brought you lunch.”

	Tears start to trickle from her face. I reach out and take one of her hands. I pull myself to her as she begins to cry, angrily kicking the suitcase aside. Akira looks at us standing there before slowly raising her hands and retreating into the room.

	It takes a little bit for Lilly to calm down. She’d been shaking terribly as she cried, and I held her the entire time. Her face was buried into the crook of my neck. After a few minutes, she finally stops sobbing. She doesn’t move her face away from me, instead I feel her tighten her grip.

	“It’s okay Lilly. It’s alright, we’re both alright.” I repeat for the dozenth time.

	I hear her take a shuddering breath before she responds. “I-I wanted to be with you. I’m sorry…” She says.

	I feel myself balk, and Lilly does too given her reaction. Her face picks up towards my own and I seize on the moment, kissing her. After a moment of startled hesitation, she melts into my kiss. Her body presses against mine, hands gripping the back of my shirt. She pulls me to her, arching her back slightly as she leans backwards. I pull my lips away from hers and put my hand to her cheek. Her face seems unfocused for a moment.

	“Don’t ever be sorry for wanting to be with me Lilly. You have no idea how many times I’ve nearly run from Akira’s room screaming in terror of more boring work. And it’s been like less than half the day.”

	Lilly raises her hand to cover her mouth. “Hisao, that’s so rude,” she says while hiding her smile.

	“I know you can’t see it right now, but I’m wearing the most serious face.” I say.

	She raises her hand towards my face and brushes my cheek with it. Electricity runs through my whole body at the familiar touch, and I feel all coherent thought dissolve.

	“It feels to me more handsome than serious.” She says. Looking at her, her face is blotchy and tear stained, nevertheless her smile lights up the entire room. Genuine and pure. Her hand then falls to my collar and pulls me towards her again. She wraps her hands around me, patting my wet back.

	“Oh my, I spilled on you… didn’t I?”

	I wince. Not from pain, but at being unable to deny her. I quickly rationalize to myself that telling the truth would be better. This girl… this woman stood up for me to a police chief that spoke of deporting me, and even more impressively, to her own father that had essentially declared me ‘servant for life.’ She didn’t need me to protect her. I wouldn’t lie to her.

	“Yeah. Some of the soup spilled onto my back.”

	Her brow knits in a scowl I recognize as her beating herself up.

	“If it’s any consolation though, it smells magnificent.”

	She stares at me for a moment before laughing. A loud, genuine, happy laugh. Not a giggle or a chuckle, a laugh. Sighing, she pulls herself to me this time and nuzzles against my neck. I bury my head into her wavy blonde hair, her black bow touching against my forehead.

	“I love you, Hisao. So much.”

	“I love you too, Lilly.” I say. I squeeze her soft body in a tight hug before releasing her. “Now, how about we have some lunch?”
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	“You know, this ain’t half bad.” Akira says between bites of her soggy sandwich. “What is this, chicken and broccoli?”

	Lilly blushes, “The soup was made from potatoes and topped with bacon, and your sandwich was cheese and turkey.”

	“Ohhh, that’s what that is.” Akira says, “My second guess was lobster bisque.”

	The three of us sat on the floor of Akira’s office. The tray was between the three of us in a small triangle.

	I reach over and squeeze Lilly’s shoulder, who quickly uses her sandwich as an excuse to say nothing further by shoving it into her mouth.

	“It’s okay Lilly, I’d have eaten the lobster bisque.” I say.

	Lilly moans through her food, blushing and buries her face in her hands. Akira and I laugh. One of Lilly’s outreached hands grips one of the boxes of folders I’d previously been going through to divide into colors.

	“You know,” Lilly says in between bites, “I’ve heard I’m not the only one having a rough afternoon. What exactly are you two doing in here?” Lilly asks.

	“Sorting,” I groan. “Color coding folders to go with one another.”

	I look over to Akira to see her giving me a nasty look that fades so quickly I’m unsure if it was at me or at her soggy food.

	“What do the folders contain?” Lilly asks.

	Not knowing the answer to that myself, I look to Akira.

	“What do you think? Paperwork.” Akira says. “Hey, you didn’t happen to be juggling any drinks up here too, did you?” Akira asks.

	“No,” Lilly responds. “I’d forgotten them. What kinds of paperwork?”

	Akira rolls her neck on her shoulders. “You know, statistics from the Japan office, profits sales, that sort of junk. Figures and numbers. Then there’s reports from people who tested products, buyers and their reasoning’s, scientist listing side effects, more garbage that wastes paper.”

	“Well that sounds silly, father wouldn’t have request us to come here just for sorting.” Lilly says matter of fact.

	“No, he’s got more. He asked us to come home for assistance with local cases and issues.” Akira replies. I get the odd sense I’m watching some sort of tennis match.

	“The reports sound like it’d be easier to sort them by more than simple color. Do you read the reports before separating them?”

	“I do, yeah.” Akira answers. I notice she’s becoming increasingly gruff about the subject.

	“Does Hisao?”

	Akira grounds her teeth. “He would if you’d been teaching him English when he was supposed to be learning.”

	“Nonsense.” Lilly says. “Hisao has obtained enough knowledge to graduate High School at a very dedicated private school, and his English has improved considerably since we’ve met.” Lilly says.

	It has? I try to mentally convey my suspicions about that, though it seems that Lilly hasn’t yet developed ESP. Or maybe she’s just blocking my thoughts.

	“Lils, come on. If our father heard us talking Japanese right now, then Hisao would be in serious trouble. Do you guys even have his medication yet?”

	I blanch, having completely forgotten about that. Oh hell, I needed my medication, now more than ever.

	“It’s being delivered here today, I spoke with the doctor and gave them our address and they’re sending someone from the local pharmacy.”

	Akira turns to me, “You’ll never guess what pharmacy it is.” She says with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

	“Your father’s? Angelo Pharmaceuticals?”

	“[We need to work more on your pronunciation…]” Lilly says in English.

	“Hey!” I exclaim, feeling a bit wounded. She giggles and reaches out stroking my arm. I neglect to tell her the only reason I understood her was because I’d had that phrase said to me so many times over the years.

	“Together, Hisao. We’ll work on it together.” She says. Her eyes exude kindness and love, and it’s hard to not believe in myself when someone as strong as her believes so hard.

	“Yeah. Sooner is better than later on this, kiddos.” Akira says.

	I nod my head at her, feeling the weight of the responsibility on my shoulders. If I could learn, then I could help more. More importantly, I wouldn’t be stuck sorting folders again. “[I will try my best.]”