All the butlers in the hall, there were about seven of them, rushed to form a straight line. Emile stood first, I was next to him and the rest lined up after me. Emile told me earlier Sato was the head manager and the only Japanese among the butlers of ‘The Mansion’. The other employees were from Korea, Taiwan, Thailand or other Asian countries.
“Stand straight, don’t move, and let me do the talking,” Emile whispered to me.
Sato was dressed in the same butler outfit as the rest of us. The only difference was a silver pocket watch attached by a chain to his vest. He had a compact body and was a head shorter than me. His posture and his focused eyes behind small spectacles spoke of authority and demanded respect, both of which were acknowledged on the faces of the lined up butlers. Only Emile, his lips pressed tightly together, bore an expression of defiance.
Sato inspected the men, beginning with the last one in line and moving slowly towards me and Emile. His hands crossed behind his back. He stopped in front of some of the guys and after a prolonged moment of silent stare uttered nothing but a “hmm”. A sudden nervousness on the face of the recipient of this special treatment spoke of possible unpleasant consequences, which might befall on him later. I found the whole thing overly theatrical and by the time he stopped in front of me, I was barely suppressing a laugh.
“Emile, is this your new kohai?” Sato asked, keeping his eyes on me.
“Yes, Sato san. Ogata sama approved him.”
“I trust you explained to him the rules here?”
“I did, Sato san.”
“Good, because if things go wrong, you Emile, will be responsible.”
“Yes, Sato san.”
Sato was a shrewd individual, I understood that much from our short stare-down. It was a crafty move to let me know, it would be Emile the one to suffer, if I challenged him in any way. I did notice, however, an animosity between him and Emile, which seemed to have existed prior to my arrival.
Sato stepped back from the line, took out his pocket watch and opened the cover. He looked at us with his watch in his hand and said: “Butlers, ‘the Mansion’ opens in exactly five minutes. Make sure you do your job properly. Make sure, you keep the guests satisfied.”
“Hai, Sato san,” the whole line responded in one loud voice, taking me by surprise. All this serious, army like behaviour was too much for my self-control and I chuckled.
“Are my words funny to you, gaijin?”
Shit, here we go. I found myself face to face with Sato again. The word he used, gaijin, which meant foreigner, or better, non- Japanese, definitely carried a derogative meaning. I took a deep breath, and as I exhaled, a few possible answers to his question came to my mind, knowing none of them would be to Sato’s liking.
Luckily, Emile was quicker. “Sato san, Ogata sama was really hoping to test Nik tonight.”
Sato looked sideways at Emile, then back at me. He gave a derisive snort and walked away. The line dispersed and Emile turned to me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you tell how things work here? Ranks and codes of behaviour mean everything. You need to respect that or you won’t get anywhere.”
“Sorry, but the guy is a prick. He’s taking himself way too seriously. What is a kohai anyway?”
“Arrgh, merde.” Emile stamped his feet impatiently and rubbed his forehead a few times. “I’m your senpai and you are my kohai. It means you’re my protégé. I’m supposed to teach you the work and you should do as I say. You do well, I will be praised, you do some shit, I will be held responsible. Got it?”
I frowned. “That’s…idiotic, but ok, I got it.”
“Do know, if things go wrong, you won’t get another chance.”
“You said so already.”
“Good. Now come, let’s choose a guest for you.”
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