“I am?”

“Yes! You always have delicious lunch.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I’m okay.”

Our conversation initiates more applause. Manager explains something in more detail to them, again using the politest level of Japanese. Meanwhile, Lieko nods, smiling at the workers and sneaking a deadly glare at me. I think I know what I’m hearing, and I pray I’m wrong because it sounds like he’s talking about discussing me with Lieko. Maybe Manager is suggesting ideas to them, maybe it’s all conjecture. I know for sure that if he lets me go without translating, I’m in the clear.

“Okay, thank you very much, Cybelle-sensei. Now you can say, ‘Otsukaresama desu!’”

“Ehhh?” The office workers stare at me, wide-eyed, looking me up and down. “Nihongo de?”

Manager nods, hands clasped, begging me with his eyes to respond. I feel like a trained pet being compelled to do a trick. Son of a … “Otsukaresama desu.” I bow.

Everyone bursts into applause before returning the courtesy. “Otsukaresama desu, Cybelle-sensei! See you again!”

I switch out of my slippers and grab my shoes like I’m in a hurry to go somewhere important, then smile and wave at everyone until the elevator doors close on Manager’s high-pitched words. I don’t want to think about what he might be telling them about me. Manager was saying something about … damn, what was the word? Kaku? Writing? No, that’s not right. Unless he meant ‘status’? Which is not Lieko’s business to begin with. And now that I think about it, what was up with Manager talking about our ‘quota’ earlier? What the hell is going on around here?

As I drown in the hum of the elevator, I concentrate on what to have for dinner. I need to erase all memory of Manager’s creepy eyes, Lieko’s raptor grin, and this impending trial lesson with a demonic child. As for my re-contracting form, I still have time. I don’t know what Manager was getting in my face about. It isn’t due until the end of October. Another thing I need to push down into the recesses of my brain, behind this looming headache. I need to eat. What do I have in my fridge? Well, no — Zozo’s fridge. In Zozo’s apartment. It’s not mine. It’s a place to sleep and keep my stuff. If I’m not re-contracting, I have to get used to letting these things go. Hmm … maybe I’ll grab the first thing I see on the way home. I don’t feel like cooking, but I can’t remember the last time I was this hungry. McDonald’s it is.

“An-punch! An-kick! Sore ike!”

I jump out of my skin and scream. Somehow, the world’s oldest Anpanman toy got left behind in the elevator. Its legs kick back and forth in the guise of flying, but the toy stays in the corner of the tiny floor. How had no one noticed it was here? Strange that no one thought to return it. Well, I have no plans to touch it.