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“Are you really going to do this to me tonight?” Hiroki Takeuchi grumbled, his voice low and raspy from years of cigarette smoking, judging by the full ashtray on his desk the yellowing ceiling tiles of his office.
“My employer doesn’t like to let things sit unnecessarily.” Sayaka Igarashi said, her voice bright, polite, and firm. “She finds waiting boring.” Her tailored and pressed suit jacket and skirt contrasted sharply with Takeuchi’s wrinkled and ill-fitted one. Looking at the sagging skin on his face, at least some of the extra space in his clothing was likely due to a sudden loss of weight caused by stress.
She slid the paper across the desk towards him, feeling the grooves of the wood through the sheet and word down lacquer. He leaned forward and reached out and for just a moment, in the thinnest sliver of a second, she saw it. The flash of rebellion. Sayaka’s fingers twitched but she wasn’t worried, not for herself at least. An aged smoker was no threat to her. Her taser might even kill him outright.
But the flame faded just as quickly as it had ignited. He reached for a pen and scribbled his name roughly on the dotted line at the bottom of the page. The pen dropped to the desk with a dull snap and he shoved the form roughly back over to Sayaka. The signature was so sloppy that she may have to come back and get it to sign again, but it would do for now.
“A pleasure doing business with you.” Sayaka smiled and bowed. Takeuchi huffed, but said nothing. As Sayaka turned to leave, she heard the quiet flick of a lighter between the click of her heels on the scuffed, waxed tiles.
Sayaka stepped into the elevator down the hall and pressed the button to take her to the lobby. A jazzy rendition of “Jingle Bells” was playing softly from the speakers in the corners of the ceiling. For all of Takeuchi’s talk of “tradition” and “outsiders,” he didn’t seem to have any problem embracing the foreign holiday of Christmas.
She shook her head. A person’s prejudices were not logical. It was a fool’s errand to try and find deeper meaning in them. Maybe one day, with enough time, he’ll come to understand the truth Sayaka grasped instantly; that the day her company had been bought out had been the best day of her life.
The receptionist in the lobby gave her a disinterested smile as she passed by, which Sayaka returned with an equally perfunctory politeness. As she waited for the old automatic door to pry itself open, she looked at the sign taped to it.
It was an icon of a person, in the same style that you see on restroom signs and wet floor warnings. The torso flowed down into a looping fish tail. The figure was inside of a red circle with a slash running over top of it. Underneath, in bold lettering, read “No Mermaids.” That’ll be the first thing that comes down Monday morning, Sayaka thought.
The night air was cool but there was no snow. She was too far south and too close to the coast for a white Christmas. Even so, there was no escaping the holiday. Every store in eyesight was decorated with lights and trees and inflatable Santa Clauses and snowmen dotted the sidewalk.
Sayaka’s driver was waiting for her when she exited the building. She took a few steps forward and he opened the back door to the black sedan.
“Where to, miss?” He asked pleasantly.
“Back to the office, please.” Sayaka stepped past him and sat down on the warm seat. He nodded and closed the door. As the car pulled out onto the road, Sayaka retrieved her cellphone from her suit coat pocket.
How did it go? The top notification, a text message read.
Smoothly. Headed back to the office now. She tapped her reply back and sent it off. Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed.
Wonderful. See you soon. Sayaka couldn’t stop the smile and faint flush that spread over her face.
It had only been a handful of years since relations between humans and merpeople had been normalized, in that time, Kirari Mermaidbami had managed to make more than a name for herself in the business world. Of course that wasn’t her real name. When talking amongst themselves, merpeople sounded very similar to dolphins. It was her tsuushou, the Japanese equivalent of her name in her native mermaid tongue. But unlike many others of her kind, she didn’t mind being called it.
Takeuchi’s prejudices were not uncommon, both above and below sea level. But Kirari was just as much an exception in the human world as underwater. She embraced the human world with open arms. Insatiably curious, she took every opportunity to learn new things that she came across. When the human world began opening up to merpeople, she jumped at the chance.
Sayaka had first met Kirari when her former company had been ruthlessly bought out from under her. Many of her coworkers quit in protest, but Sayaka was so spellbound by the audacious beauty that she begged to stay on as Kirari’s personal secretary. Though in hindsight, the risky gambles Kirari had made in the buyout were a lot less impressive if she could just swim back to her old life under the ocean whenever she wanted to.
The bright city faded in the rearview mirror as the car took her towards the shore. Standing along the beach, cutting a bright streak in the night sky, was a small office building. Unassuming on the outside, only made conspicuous by its placement on the beach.
The driver pulled the car into a spot in the underground parking garage beneath the building and Sayaka exited, nodding to him. The spot she had chosen was close to the elevator. He already knew where she was headed.
Unlike the small and utilitarian lift at Takeuchi’s office, this elevator was large and lavish. The padded leather walls were adorned with Christmas wreaths and hanging strings of lights. She pressed the number five on the panel and the doors closed.
The church choir singing some carol she didn’t know the name of faded into silence as the elevator smoothly accelerated upward. By the third floor, a new song had started to play. Sayaka winced, then smirked.
Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime.” Truly a dreadful song, but Kirari had taken a liking to the former Beatle’s work recently for some inexplicable reason. She had even made his infamous “Temporary Secretary” her ringtone for whenever Sayaka called her, to the chagrin of everyone in earshot. Sayaka hated to admit it, but she was beginning to develop an unironic affection for the song just by association.
The elevator came to a halt and the door opened. Sayaka stepped out onto the open balcony of the fifth floor. Looking out over the railing, she could see staff mingling around tables covered in food and Christmas decorations. Only a small number of people were willing to work under a mermaid executive, but it seemed like everyone had come out for the company Christmas party.
Sayaka turned away and went back to the path before her. The only thing on the fifth floor was Kirari’s personal office suite. Through the glass floor underneath her she could see the tube, filled with water, running up into the bottom of the office. The entire building had a system of them running though it to accommodate easier movement of merpeople throughout the office, but so far Kirari was the only benefactor. For as difficult as it was to hire humans, they had yet to find another merperson willing to work on the surface with them.
She was always uncomfortable opening the door to Kirari’s office unannounced, even after she had been told that she was always welcome. Carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, Sayaka opened the heavy metal door and slipped inside.
“I'm back.” She announced, her voice echoing. Kirari’s office was a large suite with a high ceiling and glass walls. In the center of the room, taking up most of the floor space, was a pool. On the edge of the pool was Kirari’s “desk,” which was really just a computer and some papers, currently covered with a rubberized sheet to protect them from splashing. Not that they got much use anyway. Close by was Sayaka’s desk, where most of the real work was done.
“Welcome back.” Kirari cooed sweetly, her head resting on her arms folded underneath on the edge of the pool. It was her second language, and so totally alien to what she spoke before, but she spoke Japanese so beautifully. As beautifully has her blue gemstone eyes and glittering scales of her tail. It was obvious why her name translated to “Kirari.” Mermaidbami was less obvious, but judging by her reputation among her kind, Sayaka could make a couple guesses.
“I’m sorry to make you work on Christmas.” Kirari frowned her lips, painted a shade of powder blue that matched her eyes. She had taken to wearing makeup, or as much makeup as her aquatic lifestyle would allow. Lipstick in particular. “But it’s quite difficult for me to make trips out on short notice.”
She floated away from the wall, revealing her bare chest to Sayaka. For as much as she loved to experience human culture and embraced their customs, she still resisted human modesty. Or maybe she just did it because it flustered Sayaka to no end still, even though their relationship now was more than strictly professional.
“It’s no problem.” Sayaka shook her head, the ponytail hanging off the side of her head waving with the movement. “I’m happy to be of service to you.” Being Kirari’s secretary was significantly more demanding than her previous job. Most notably, it involved a lot of walking, both around the office as well as out in the world at large.
“Here, come take a seat.” Kirari gently patted the ground on the edge of the water. Sayaka walked over and knelt down, coming to a stop on her haunches. “Here, let me.” Kirari motioned and Sayaka extended her legs out. Delicately, Kirari removed her heeled shoes and Sayaka dipped her feet into the water. The water was warm, just short of a hot tub.
Being cold blooded creatures, the temperature of the water for mermaids was important. Each degree carried meaning. Sayaka knew what this temperature meant very well. She shivered and flushed in anticipation. Faintly, she could still hear Paul McCartney singing in the distance.
“You truly fascinate me, Sayaka.” Kirari sighed as she began massaging Sayaka’s feet. “You have such wondrous legs and feet. They let you travel the world however you please, and yet you tourture them so.” She threaded her finger between Sayaka’s toes and pressed her thumbs into her soles. “If you won’t care for them, then let me.”
Sayaka squirmed as Kirari continued her ministrations. She wanted to protest, but she was caught in the paradox of being tended to by her boss and not wanting to deny said boss her request. So she said nothing and let Kirari indulge her, and herself.
“I have something for you.” Kirari said, and let go of Sayaka’s feet.
“I thought we agreed? No gifts!” Sayaka whined. After last year, when Kirari had purchased her a personal submarine so they could explore the ocean together, Sayaka had insisted on no gifts this year.
“I know, but you do so much for me. And it’s such a small thing. Please forgive me.” Kirari paddled backwards, keeping her eyes on Sayaka. She reached under the sheet and pulled out a cup with a straw. It was filled with a creamy liquid with black orbs settled at the bottom.
“Here,” She swam back over, careful to not tip the contents. “I know how much you like boba, so I made you some.” Sayaka sighed in relief and took the cup from her.
“You didn’t need to,” Sayaka smiled. “But thank you.” She raised the straw to her lips and took a sip. The milk tea was heavy and sweet, but it had a salty aftertaste. It was like drinking sea salted caramel.
“This is delicious!” Sayaka took a longer sip.
“I’m glad you like it.” Kirari came to a stop next to Sayaka, resting her head on her hand. Sayaka took a longer sip and felt one of the tapioca balls climb the wide straw. She took it between her teeth and bit down.
It burst in a wave of saltiness.
Sayaka coughed, caught by surprise. The tapioca balls weren’t supposed to be spongy. Had Kirari made them incorrectly? It wasn’t bad. On the contrary, it tasted quite good. But it still caught her off guard.
“Um…” Sayaka hesitated, reluctant to criticize. “I think you may have gotten something wrong when making the tapioca. They’re usually chewy.”
“Oh,” Kirari waved her hand. “That’s not tapioca, it’s caviar.”
“Caviar?” Sayaka examined the drink.
“Ever since I heard about your people’s methods of preparing eggs I’ve been intensely curious to try it out.” Kirari explained lightly.
“I’ve had caviar before, but never in boba.” Sayaka wrinkled her nose. “This certainly is different. But I like it!” Sayaka happily continued to drink.
“I’m happy to hear it.” Kirari said. “May I try some?” Sayaka nodded and finished her sip. She handed the boba over to Kirari and she took a deep drink, chewing on one of the eggs.
“This is a very curious drink.” Kirari said thoughtfully. She took another sip, then handed it back to Sayaka.
“Where did the eggs come from?” Sayaka asked. “I don’t recall any egg laying sea life with eggs that big.” But Sayaka was no ichthyologist and Kirari had knowledge and access to sea life likely never even seen by humans.
“I told you, I made it myself.” Kirari laughed. “They’re my eggs.”
Sayaka froze, a few drops of milk tea falling from her lips. Her eggs?! Mermaids laid eggs? And Sayaka had eaten them! Eaten Kirari’s eggs? And they were delicious? And Kirari had just…
There was something incredibly wrong about this. Like Sayaka had just crossed a line that she never knew existed and could never walk back from. But...she couldn’t deny that there was also something very intimate about it as well. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around the straw, and took another drink. Kirari smirked.
“Merry Christmas, Sayaka.” Kirari pulled herself out of the water and wrapped her arms around Sayaka in a wet embrace.
“Merry Christmas, K-Kirari.” Sayaka flushed, still, struggling with her first name even after eating her eggs. Kirari touched their noses together, then closed in, enveloping Sayaka in a salty kiss before dragging her into the water.