Miyo Takahara was not the type of person in life to be late to anything. She was the type of person to crunch every number in her life, from the account books at Honer and Sons to her schedule to every penny she ever earned. Today was unusual, though, in the fact she was late, and she arrived where her workplace should have been already in a state of some anger and confusion. The whole morning had started wrong, from her curling iron refusing to add a lovely flip to her hair to her clothes not being quite dry from last night's stint in the dryer, necessitating fifteen extra minutes in there so she didn't wear a damp pencil skirt to work.<br/><br/>So when she did arrive, her black heels clacking past each unit until she got to the right one, her black hair disheveled, her hand fumbling with her phone and her purse, she was floored to see only one familiar face at all—a fellow she worked with in accounting at the company.<br/><br/>Apparently he was the only aspect of Honer's that seemed to be there at all, and that included a distressing lack of the company building. But soon others arrived, looking around with some bewilderment, and Miyo stepped forward to look at the graffiti, standing near Norm. She sighed and looked for any sign the police had been called—none had. She grumbled to herself, “You have to be kidding me. The whole place is gone! Its not like we can just call the police and say, “Hello, I'd like to report a theft. Yes, it's a whole building gone. Oh, and some vandalism.” She fidgeted and said to Norm, “You got here before me—do you have any idea what this is all about?”