One hand reached towards the purse lying on the table before stopping.  There was a pause before the hand retreated guiltily.<span style="font-style: italic">‘Don’t check your phone!’</span>The woman chided herself mentally as she twisted her left forearm in her direction, revealing a small clock face.  Hazel eyes narrowed as they focused on the tiny image before the symbol sharpened: 3:12.  Three more minutes until the interview started.  Her right hand fiddled with her pen, lining it along top of her notepad.  Meanwhile, the young woman checked her reflection in the glass window.  It wasn't perfect, but she could see her outline well enough.  Normally boisterous waves had been tamed into a bun: tight enough to be professional but not so much that it made her look severe.  A collared shirt, blinding white in color, and a black suit jacket completed her reflection before it was hidden under the table she was sitting in front of.  How weird to be waiting for her interviewer in his office instead of being called in at his convenience!  Well, no doubt he was busy; an editor for a 138 million yen business surely had a lot to do!  Pouty red lips pursed in envy but quickly smoothed away.  A smile would do better than a frown.  The interviewee had just rearranged her pen again (parallel to the long side of her notepad this time, one inch of space in between) when the door started opening.  She shot to her feet just as the door opened fully to reveal a lanky man with bright orange hair.  He had a bright smile on his face which made him look young despite the black suit he was wearing.<br/><br/>"Ah, Tachibana-san! Sorry for being late."<br/><br/>Tachibana-san immediately dipped into a bow, murmuring hastily,<span style="color: pink">"Please, it's no trouble at all, Ishida-san."</span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~</div><br/>"Ooh, is today your first day?!"<br/><br/>Hinata glanced at the excited teen standing in her doorway through the mirror in amusement, hand busy applying the first coat of mascara to her eyelashes.  Mimi was teal-haired, capricious, and passionate.  She was also Hinata's younger foster sister.<br/><br/>"Turn around! Turn around!" The teen demanded, hands clapping in glee.  The pink haired woman rolled her eyes but did as bade, revealing a grey pencil skirt and a creamy white blouse.  Mimi clearly wilted in disappointment at the sight.  "That's so.. monochromatic." The girl finally decided with an unhappy slant to her mouth.  As an aspiring idol, she clearly thought herself an expert on fashion.  Hinata just laughed and turned back around to finish applying her mascara.  “Oh! I know!”  Mimi bounced into the room, heading straight for the shared closet.  Being a foster home, there were only so many rooms to go around; Mimi and Hinata had been sharing a room since the former first arrived.  Unfortunately, the twos’ body types were different enough they couldn’t share clothes besides Hinata’s hand-me-downs: the younger had the stereotypical petite Japanese build while the elder was curvier than most.  However, accessories weren’t body type specific and so the teal-haired girl soon emerged with an arm of belts and a handful on scarves.  “Put on one of these!”<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“No.”</span>Lips lined with pencil, Hinata started painting in the outline a pale pink color.  It wasn’t her preferred shade, but bright red didn’t really hit the professional look she was going for.  Today was her first day meeting her boss and she wanted to make sure she made the right impression.<span style="color: pink">“I’m going to <span style="font-style: italic">work</span> Mimi; of course I’m monochromatic.”</span><br/><br/>From the corner of her eye, she could see her younger sister making a face.  “I go to work and I don’t look boring!”  Mimi protested, dropping the majority of the accessories on the ground.  Despite Hinata’s words, she still held them up to compare with Hinata’s outfit, trying to decide which was most appropriate.<span style="color: pink">“You’re trying to be an idol; fashion and style are required.  I’m going to be a secretary.”</span><br/><br/>“Uh, that doesn’t mean you have to be a<span style="font-style: italic">boring</span>secretary,” Mimi shot back, “you could be a hot one.”<br/><br/>Hazel eyes glared at the younger girl,<span style="color: pink">“Or I could be a <span style="font-style: italic">professional</span> one,”</span>the older woman stressed as she ran a brush through her hair.<span style="color: pink">“I’m going to work for a nationally acclaimed novelist, not a hooker club.”</span>She added drily, tossing the hairbrush onto the vanity and starting to braid the long locks together.<br/><br/>“Ugh; it still doesn’t mean you have to look so plain.”  Mimi scowled as Hinata turned around for the last time.  As predicted, the older woman looked… not ugly, but not particularly pretty either.  Any style the blouse and skirt may have made were washed away by the utter lack of color.  All of her hair had been pulled back and—“You look bald,” the idol pointed out unhelpfully, prompting a scowl from her older sister.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Mimi! I’m not—ugh!”</span>Hinata stomped past her sister towards the closet, no doubt headed for the shoe racks.  The two girls had so many pairs that Joyce had finally asked them to keep the shoes in their closet rather than having them take over the entire foyer.<br/><br/>“It’s true!”  The younger girl dashed in; as expected, the elder was eyeing their shoe collection contemplatively.  Somehow, the two had ended up as the same shoe size, to the younger’s eternal delight.  Disgruntled look firmly on her face, Mimi snatched the tie out of Hinata’s hair, the braid immediately losing shape.  “If you<span style="text-decoration: underline">must</span>wear such dull clothes, you’re not allowed to do that to your hair!”  She ran back out, followed closely by an annoyed Hinata.  “Use this instead!”  Mimi held up a pearl clip triumphantly.  “We’ll clip it back, use some spray to keep it in place, and it’ll look a lot better than old lady braid.”  When there was no immediate denial, a victorious smile curled up on the teal-haired girl’s lips.  “I’ve seen some of the managers wear their hair like this at the agency~” she sing-songed temptingly, “and it’ll look so much prettier this way.”  She knew she won when Hinata flounced past her and took a seat at the vanity.  Yay!<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~</div><br/>“He’s really looking forward to meeting you!”  Ishida-san beamed at her from across the table, “I’m so sorry that he’s running late.  You know how authors can get—once inspiration strikes, they forget everything.  He probably just stayed up too late working on a draft and accidentally overslept. He should be here soon!”<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “I’m sure Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei is a very busy man.”</span>Hinata murmured in response, dipping her head in acknowledgment.  Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, hidden under the table.  Ugh, she hated tardy people.  But she could understand how inspiration could strike.  There had been some late nights in college where she’d gotten wrapped up in arranging the magazine spread for production; undoubtedly, someone as skilled as her soon to be boss also had such bursts of obsession.  Besides, if he was more organized, she wouldn’t have a job.  Ishida-san had made it sound like Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei was so busy with work, he needed a personal assistant to help him stay organized.  She could respect that.<br/><br/>The sound of a cell phone vibrating caught both of their attentions just as the door opened and the receptionist walked in with a tea tray.  Simultaneously, all three reached for their phones to figure out who was being ringed.<br/><br/>“Oh! Looks like me!”  Ishida-san announced pointlessly, lifting his phone in the air for her to see.  The man climbed to his feet and brushed nonexistent dust off his black suit.  Polyester, if she had to guess, so probably a generic.  However, it’d been tailored to fit his thin frame and gave him a classier feel than the average business man.  “Excuse me, Tachibana-san, it looks like I am needed downstairs.  I will return shortly – till then, just peek outside the door and ask for tea if you wish to have more served!  It looks like your new employer has just arrived!”<br/><br/>With a wave, the orange haired man stepped out of the room.  Hinata turned away from the door just to get a face full of cleavage.  The secretary must have loosened her collar a bit and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her collared shirt.  The overall look was still professional except when she had to bend over to place the tea set down.  Nearly folded in half to reach the low table, the secretary unknowingly gave Hinata a long look down her shirt.  'Note to self: high necked tops or kneel on the ground if serving anything in this room,' Hinata determined to herself, politely looking away.  The room was surprisingly old fashioned given its location in the middle of Ginza.  The floor was tatami, the door sliding screens (though wood instead of shoji), and the furniture all in traditional Japanese style.  The vase on the table was ikebana--traditional Japanese flower arrangement.  The entire room gave off a very dignified feel and it elicited a true smile from the pink-haired woman.  A dignified room for a dignified man.  She took an idle sip from her tea and enjoyed the bland taste of barley tea. Perhaps Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei preferred simpler things to keep his mind focused on his imagination? Her musings were cut off by by the slide of the opening door.  Turning in that direction, she got to her socked feet and bowed politely.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “Good morning, Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei.”</span>She greeted,<span style="color: pink">“I’m Tachibana Hinata; I place myself in your care.”</span>Niceties completed, she straightened up just to wonder if she’d mistakenly introduced herself to the wrong person.  He was.. really,<span style="font-style: italic">really</span>tall.  Messy black hair hung around and over his face and she wondered when was the last time he’d gotten it styled or combed it, for that matter.  A t-shirt hung on his torso, obscuring all from sight except the smiling… waiter? printed on its front.  The dark-haired waiter sneered at her from the wrinkled shirt, mocking her for mistaking this ruffian for Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei. (How had he gotten into the building?)  She opened her mouth to apologize when she saw eye-searing orange hair: Ishida-san!  Perhaps he--”Tachibana-san, this is Izumi-Tsukatani Naruhiko, your new employer!” Her recruiter chirped even as sensei stumbled into the room.<br/><br/>Hinata forced the stiff smile on her face to become larger.  Oh.. no wonder Ishida-san had hired a personal assistant for Izumi-Tsukatani-sensei.  He.. definitely needed one.  She had thought sensei just needed someone to keep his schedule straight; she hadn’t realized it meant both personal and professional schedules.<span style="font-style: italic">‘Although, now the generous pay makes sense as does the ‘personal assistant’ title and not just… secretary,’</span>Hinata realized with dawning comprehension.<span style="color: pink"> “May I pour you any tea, sensei? Ishida-san?”</span>She offered in a desperate attempt to break the stifling silence.