How Do You Feel? - Izaya Fanfiction

Job Interview

I flinched slightly as a tall man passed me on the street. I took a deep breath and focused on the sound of my small heels clicking on the pavement. The streets of Ikebukuro were unfamiliar to me, as were the crowds of people. My social anxiety made it difficult for me but I had methods of coping. I assured myself I knew where I was going.

I panicked slightly as a stranger brushed shoulders with my own and I turned to stutter a pathetic "S-sorry!" at the stranger who had already disappeared into the crowds. I mentally facepalmed. What an idiot I am, I sighed and pulled my cardigan a little tighter around myself and kept my head low. For some strange reason it was more difficult to blend into the crowds on this side of the city.

 I glanced again at the address written on a piece of paper haphazardly and gazed up at another monster glass building. It was impossible to tell whether these buildings were apartments or offices but eventually I found the one I was searching for. I hesitantly pushed open a heavy glass door and was surprised to see a luxurious interior. I gulped slightly, a little intimidated. I wondered what kind of people lived or worked here... 

I built up my courage and walked confidently over to the desk to ask,

"Excuse me I've got an interview with Mr. Orihara, do you know where I can find him?" She looked at me as if I were stupid and then turned to the other girl at the desk and snickered.

"Yeah his apartment is floor 5, room 25. Have fun with Mr. Orihara" She gave me a disgusted smirk. I muttered a quick thanks and walked away trying to hide my blush, what kind of reputation did this man have I wondered as I walked into the evil metal box that was an elevator. Luckily there was no one in there and I was able to listen to the stupid elevator music to calm myself down. Then my eyes snapped open, did she say APARTMENT?! The doors opened with a ding, and I reluctantly left it. I looked both ways down the hall and walked to the door right on the end. There was a small slip of paper that read 'Room 25'. This was it, I held my breath and knocked on the door. I need this job or I won't have enough money to keep me in my tiny apartment another month. But what if he's a bad person? Will I be alone in there with him?? Maybe I should keep my phone in my pocket.. I went to reach inside my bag to retrieve it but I heard the door being unlocked.

I gasped as I was met by a handsome, tall man, around 6"0' with raven black hair slicked back with minimal gel and also wearing glasses and a very flattering suit. I tried not to gape as he spoke to me in a monotone voice,

"Miss. Ashino, I believe? Nice to meet you, do come in." I nodded and felt my heartbeat accelerate slightly as I walked past him into the beautiful modern apartment with many large bookshelves. He led me to his desk and offered me a seat. He sat at his desk and typed for a while leaving me to nervously stare at my hands. I reassured myself, I've got this. I looked up, confident once again. I noticed that he moved his eyes from the screen and to me and then back again a few times as if he were unsure.

"It says here that you've applied for a position as a personal assistant, is that correct?"

"Yes" I didn't stutter, mental fistpump.

"So what makes you believe that you are well suited to this job?" He continued to look at his screen and type occasionally. I continued even though I was unsure if he was listening. I recited my practiced paragraph about being hard working and being available and what-not. He didn't look at me before asking the next question:

"Do you have any close relationships that may endanger the confidentiality of your client's personal information?" I frowned slightly. This hadn't come up as a frequently asked interview question on google. I moved to the next best thing,

"I'm sorry but I don't understand the question." I grit my teeth nervously. He glanced at me quickly and replied, not bothered,

"Do you have anyone living with you or any close family or friends?" This was a strange question but I answered honestly.

"No." He looked at me for a few seconds without emotion before once again returning to the screen. A few seconds of silence passes before he asked,

"Why not?" I looked down at my feet, attempting to keep myself together. 

"My family died in an accident, sir." I expected a quick apology and a change of subject but it never came. I looked back up after his typing has stopped only to find he was now staring intently at me while leaning on his desk. I couldn't avert my gaze from his. He asked,

"How did they die?" Still without emotion. My breath shook a little and my eyes welled up a little. No, I couldn't cry now. I didn't have to answer this question but I need this job.

"My house burnt down, and so did they." He looked at me a little longer, scanning my face, assessing me. Then he turned back to his computer and typed away. I noticed for the first time that he typed on the keyboard with extraordinary speed, yet lightly. He continued the rest of the interview with very normal questions and only very occasionally glanced at me. He seemed rushed but I took no notice as I answered every question quickly, to get it over with.

I soon left after leaving my phone number with a simple goodbye. As I walked out of the lobby the secretary from earlier called out to me "How was your interview?". I ignored their laughing and rushed back to my apartment. I seriously doubted I would even get a call to notify me that I unfortunately didn't get the job. After all, no employer wants an unqualified and emotionally unstable person such as myself. 

Hello! I'm back with a brand new Izaya fanfiction, are you excited? I am! Remember to leave a vote and comment for more! Credit goes to the artist of the picture used.