Work Text:
"DENJI!"
The aforementioned startles.
"How's that project I gave you going?"
Denji swivels in her chair at the call, cheeks still deep in her cup of ramen, "Huh?"
"Logo for that vendor, you brat!"
Denji squints and rubs the back of her head. "Ah, I'm working on it sir."
The old man, Denji's boss, makes his way closer to her desk. Really it doesn't count as one, when only cardboards and junk paper towers between the office's departments. And by departments, there's only one person in each department, so Denji is drowning in the creative department. Even the boss is multitasking—
Thank God she pulls up the file in time with his arrival, after making his way through the cluttered space. Denji stifles the urge to laugh. Under the boss' scrutiny, she starts yapping about the project's progress, "This is how it's looking so far, sir. I think we're about... 70 percent done. I'm still not satisfied with the color. And the overall shape needs some tweaking."
She waits for his characteristic pat on her back. They're always a bit too harsh and forces a wince out of her but at least it signifies she's off the hook.
Mr. Jun doesn't know shit about design anyway. Denji slurps another mouthful of instant ramen. At least he's great at choosing office “rules,” she grins at the ramen in her hands.
"Alright, then," Mr. Jun says as he finally gives her the pat, "Three days long enough for you, kid?"
Denji puts on her mathematical brows, pretending to estimate. "Yes sir. Thank you."
"Right on then, brat!"
Denji couldn't be bothered to continue the progress on that stupid logo, so she kicks her feet up the CPU and switches the tab to her personal project as soon as Mr. Jun walks away.
By the time she gets home, she practically gulps down her dinner like a parched camel finding an oasis. After that, the only thing left on her mind is to sidle up with her girlfriend on the couch.
Tokyo is a brilliant city brimming with entertainment, good food, and interesting people, but Denji and Aki have their minds occupied with each other.
"My office is so cold," Aki complains, "I wish you were there to warm me up."
Denji blushes, nuzzling her face further into her girlfriend’s armpit.
Aki is hilarious without meaning to when she complains. The way she reveals something that only mildly annoys or bothers her is like no one else. Her face is flat, stoic like always. But if you've known her for as long as Denji does, you can see the twitch of her right eye, the downward curve of the corners of her lips and the barely-there crease between her brows. Denji knows those features are there without looking.
Though when it comes to something that properly annoys her, Aki's rage is cold. Ruthless. She's calm and that's the worst version of Aki for a stranger to see. Anyone, really. Even Denji, who is her girlfriend of three years. Being around a calm-raging Aki makes Denji uncomfortable.
So Denji pays attention and offers solutions like a professional problem solver would.
"Do you want to borrow one of my sweatshirts then? You can bring them to the office." At Aki's predictable, mutely eyebrow quirk, she continues, "I mean, I just want you comfy and like, if your boss won't crank down the AC temperature you know I can grab the remote and shove it up her—"
Aki laughs, pulling Denji close to her chest. "You're rambling, love."
Aki kisses the halo of her head and on that very couch where they've done worse, Denji feels like melting all over again.
"I would like that," Aki says into the comfortable silence.
Aki brings one of her sweatshirts to work the next morning. A black one, whose design is kid-friendly (and therefore office-okay). Not as visiblyrebellious as Denji's other long sleeves.
Denji goes to work much later than Aki does. Later, she opens their chat where Aki's sent her a picture of herself wearing Denji's sweatshirt. The camera is panned down, only showing the sweatshirt and below. Aki's left hand is placed on her lap, dark blue carpet peeking on the bottom corner. [Thanks!] the caption reads. Denji feels warm, her cheeks pulled taut from smiling. Too warm in her too-hot office, yearning to be with her cool girlfriend in her too-cold office.
"Ahhhh, I'm finally done with this report!" Power groans from his desk across the office, plastic straw already fumbled around his pretentious banana milk iced coffee in reward. Eugh. Even the noise of it is annoying.
"Congrats, Pow! Could do without all the stirring though!"
Denji's busy with her own stuff. The stupid logo project. She's itching to finish it as soon as possible, even though there's still a whole day tomorrow before the deadline's up.
Video game music blasts through her headphones, long blonde hair hastily knotted in a bun. Mr. Jun is out doing... whatever he does.
Looking for "clients."
Arai's desk is right next to Denji's. Without looking, Denji knows her face is stuck in that grimace as always. Perks of coding for a questionable marketing firm, folks. "Whatcha working on?" she asks. I swear if I have to pick another shade of green I'm gonna crash—
"There's this bakery client who wants a specific feature on her website. I don't think the cake builder moves right. What do you think?" Arai's computer makes a creaking sound as it's tilted to face Denji.
"Wait." Fuck yeah, just gotta change the tagline font after.
Arai's cursor circles over the cake design feature. It's practically a video game with how detailed it is. Nostalgic of that old cake decorating game Denji remembers playing on the computer years ago. "I think it's great! The glitching helps sell the whole vintage vibe," Denji points at the screen. "But how much is she paying you for this?" Denji laughs, unbelieving. Power fabricates himself behind them at the sound, interested.
Arai grimaces. "I don't know. Mr. Jun will do the nego for me."
Power, always in his suited-up, glassed-up corporate workwear, looking completely out of place and in their chaotic office, pins Arai in a calculating gaze. "You should get a big tip from this. You did this all by yourself," which Arai nods in solemn agreement, "Denji could've helped design illustration stills but you coded it all. We'll help you profit off her." Power’s grin is menacing.
But Arai seems touched at Power's statement.
Sure, Denji isn't really interested in corporate camaraderie, especially when it comes to Power and his money-driven ambitions, but Arai did do this all by herself. She deserves to be paid more. And who else is better suited to boss their boss around than Power?
"I guess I did spend more time on this than the projects before. The features she wanted really stressed me out,” she pauses for a moment, “Is it okay, though? I don't want us to be fired." Arai confesses, trying to make herself look smaller.
Denji feels weak. It's a bit odd considering Arai's older and probably has more work experience yet she's unsure of the value of her own work. She doesn’t have the selfishness it takes to be valuable. Unlike her and Power. But perhaps it’s just Arai's inexperience in working at questionable offices like theirs, she wouldn't have known how to navigate these ratty alleys.
Power flashes her a cunning grin, squeezing Denji's shoulder, "It's for our own good. We'll be content with 10 percent shares, right Denji?"
It boosts morale to be corrupt in a corrupt environment. It feels almost guiltless, freeing. Like it’s theirs and their birthright to take, take, take. Denji grins at Arai as well. They'll pull this off.
The next two weeks sees Denji sending over completed designs to easily satisfied clients, Arai finishing up the bakery website, and Power lawyering through for their mutual benefit. Mr. Jun eventually folds under Power's persistence. It's akin to watching a catfight, when Mr. Jun yowls stupid reasons, Power paws even stupider defenses.
Yet it somehow works.
Denji pitches in now and then, when Power nods at her to explain the design-related parts.
Boss eventually agreed at an extra 10 thousand yen fee for the special feature. But the three of them still had to present and explain the service fee increase to the client, which thanks to Power's jabs at the bakery's foreseeable marketing failure from not having the one-of-a-kind feature, made the client agree on the price.
All in all, it's quite an achievement for them. They predicted 7 thousand maximum but got 10 instead. Arai's 7 thousand richer for her codes while Denji and Power gets a thousand yen to bring home each.
Easy money.
Arai, giddy from her first experience in corruption, invites Denji and Power out, "C'mon, we have to celebrate! This is the coolest thing I've ever done in... My entire career probably," she laughs in excitement.
Denji can't say no to free dinner, so she calls Aki to let her know she won't be eating dinner at home. Aki's updated on the whole thing. She knew of Denji and Power's scheming from the start. Aki hangs up with a knowing [Okay, love.] Denji can feel her grin tickling her ear.
They settle on a fancier izakaya and clink some beers together. Power finally takes off his blazer and loosens his tie sometime in. Arai and Denji laugh at him. Afterwards, Denji feels bloated with all the beers she drank and decides she wants to go home. She shakes Arai awake from where the latter's passed out on the table. Power is asleep, sprawled on the tatami. She bids them goodbye once Power promises to help Arai home.
Aki is waiting for her in the lobby, helping Denji out of the taxi as soon as it arrives.
Denji hmmphs into her shoulder, saying, "Thanks."
"Anytime."
Aki leads them upstairs.
It's a month later and work's been kicking Aki and Denji's asses.
One would assume that work gets tiresome only working for a "real" and lawful corporation like Aki does. But hey, although Denji and the firm she works for is morally (and literally) corrupt, that doesn't mean her work is easy. Nor self-paced. She enjoys working for Mr. Jun. Really. But work sucks the life out of you.
Burnouts are real and unfortunately, they happen at the worst of times.
Denji has a feel of her motivation and energy levels throughout the year. It usually starts depleting as Japan nears winter, and rises as soon as she feels the sun. By that she means summer. Perceivable, feel-able heat, not just a poor illusion of light, a mere warmth like the winter sun.
It's late October, so a possible burnout is still a month away. But the slowness, the lethargy seeps into her bones and every crevice of her structure.
Aki stocked up on their seasonal hot chocolate powder when they went to the grocery store yesterday.
"Do you want one?" Aki asks from the kitchen. Denji's on the sofa, playing a video game. Rich, chocolatey aroma wafts from the pot.
"Don't have the tummy space for it right now. Can I have some of yours though?" Denji asks instead.
Aki huffs, "I'll make another, I don't want you hogging mine."
Denji grins, wolfish, eyes still trained on the TV. "'kay."
Aki is nitpicky about her drinks. She'll share but just enough for a taste, and not a sip more. She has no problem finishing Denji's drinks though. Right now, Denji wants more than a sip, but she won't finish the last half, so she'll let her girlfriend have that.
Aki guessed that.
Of course.
Denji somehow got roped into shopping with Power on the weekend. Something about Power needing an extra set of arms to carry his haul. She expects shenanigans and their usual banter, but what she didn’t expect was Power making a left to the second hand clothing store instead of the luxury store complex.
They step into the store together.
"This is where you get your clothes? I thought you only bought new," Denji muses.
Power scoffs, "'New'?! That's an insult. You should know I would rather get a skin infection than spend 20 thousand on some straight-off-the-rack shiny office cosplay." He stares at Denji, unimpressed through his vintage rectangle glasses. Now Denji wonders if that was thrifted too.
Power adjusts them on the bridge of his nose. Yeah, it probably was.
Cool.
"Ah, okay," Denji finally says, still caught off guard.
"Actually... On another thought, I’ve never got one from trying on thrifted clothes, so..." his face curls in disgust, "Let's not pray on me getting one."
"Amen.” Denji says readily.
They look around more, strolling deeper into the store. Denji is the first to witness Power gasping and clutching his chest at particular fashion pieces. A furry hat, cowboy-style buckle belts, clearly Denji shouldn't be the first person to partner up for fashion shopping. Not exactly magazine material in her nerdy hoodies. Comfort comes first!
Power takes his time looking at the vintage watches, conversing with the salesman with a knowledgeable, pretentious aura to him. Denji thinks geeking out about typography and UI or UX doesn't look nearly as cool. What's so interesting about clock hands and straps and fucking... dials anyway?
Denji saunters away and finds a seat next to a particularly dazzling leather jacket worn by a mannequin. The jacket is more of a feminine fit, cinched at the waist. It's not something Denji would want to wear but Power can definitely rock it.
His waist is so small it's practically nonexistent. He has the stature, the presence, and the power to wear it. Slim waist, flat stomach. He's not a fun person to hug. And Power is too prickly for physical affection, anyway.
"Should I try this on?" Power sounds her thoughts, leaning in and inspecting the condition of the jacket.
"You should! I think it'll fit you nicely."
"Eh. I really don't know why I asked. I never asked anyone if I wanted to do something before," he muses.
Denji tilts her head, wondering if that's progress in their friendship. But she doesn't want to turn a quiet confession into a forced psychoanalysis session so she says instead; "Okay, but are you gonna try it on?" she ignores the clench in her heart at Power's dismissive tone.
Power is very reserved as a person. She'd never admit it but Denji's probably his only real friend. She'll let him open up on his own time.
"It's kind of too small though. But I don't want to leave this one here. I'm gonna put it in the basket."
"Are you gonna put more clothes in that? Won't your closet run out of space?" Denji snickers.
"No? I mean, if I can't wear it, one of my regulars would definitely want it for themselves. Just need a little polishing up."
"Regulars?"
"Yeah, I flip them and sell them, you know? A bit like houseflipping but way simpler. I sold a 300 yen blazer for 9,000 last week."
"Dudeee... How?!"
"Just bullshitted the caption about how rare it is, plus a little sewing," Power shrugs.
"Sneaky as always," Denji snorts, impressed. "Teach me, man!"
It's Power's turn to scoff, "Literally my cat has better fashion sense than you do—"
"That's because you dress him! Her? Come on, Pow!"
Power turns around faster than a millisecond, "Do not call me that," he warns.
Denji cackles all the way to the cashier.