• It was late afternoon with the sun setting and a cold breeze blowing, signaling the end of the day for the digital world available to Sorozai. Zaqiel still did his chores, as any good manservant should do, but even at the end of the day, it's only a manservant and nothing more. There are no emotions involved, right?

    "It's eight o'clock, Madam; can I go home now?" Zaqiel asked as he stood in front of Sorozai's office desk. What sort of office? A world service office that has yet to be named. Sorozai, along with two of her friends, ran a world service office that was dedicated to helping the homeless, forgiving debt, and healing the hurt. It was very small in these opening days, operating out of the office members' homes, and switching every few days whenever the office became inconvenient.

    With a nod of her head, Sorozai said, "Yes, of course, Zaqiel. You can go now." Her voice was a type of sullen one, and she moved her forearm up and down, testing the joints in her elbow. I'm going to have to get re-jointed soon, she thought dispassionately. She looked up from her arm. "What was that?" she asked dully, unable to hear her servant's mumbled words.

    Zaqiel pursed his lips before licking them. "I can help you with that," he repeated, and decided to shut his mouth up by chewing on the inside of his cheek. There was an awkward silence in the furniture-lacking office for quite a while. "Madam?"

    Sorozai turned her chair and faced the desktop computer behind her, quickly typing something up and clicking a few times. "Take it out of the printer. You have permission to read them."

    "Yes, Madam." There was a small rustling of paper as Zaqiel collected the seven pieces of warm paper from the giant printer in the corner of the room, almost tripping on wires on his way back. "What are these?" he asked, appalled by the contents of the papers. He didn't really need to ask her, he knew what they were.

    "It's a copy of your resignation contract."

    "I know what it is!" he shouted, and Sorozai turned around, taken aback by Zaqiel's outburst. He was usually a quiet fallen, but that might have been because of the loyalty contract he held with Sorozai. "Why did you print it!"

    Sorozai scowled and stood, trying to be imposing but failing horribly with her short stature. "You know very well why I'm laying you--"

    "It's not a lay off, Madam! You're firing me?" It was more of a statement than a question, but still held the questioning airs. It seemed, to Sorozai, that Zaqiel was genuinely angered by her actions. This was supposed to be a gift, something for him to enjoy, not be outraged by.

    "I thought you might want something like this," she paused, wondering if he might cut her off again. "After your service these past few months, I've decided to let you go." Wasn't this something he wanted?

    He was always so stoic, so dull around her. When she spoke to the other Grigori leaders, she'd always hear great stories of Zaqiel. It was a different Zaqiel, the one she couldn't reach, that she wanted. Why else would she have made him work for her? "Besides, isn't there a lovely guest that has been visiting lately which you had your eye on? While working under me, it'll be nearly impossible to approach her." He blushed.

    "Yeah, so? It's none of your business who I find attractive or not. What I want to know is why you're laying me off--no, why you're firing me!" Sorozai's eyes widened and she stood there in stupor. Why would he say that so forcefully? There was nothing wrong with him, it was all her. Nothing was ever wrong with her surroundings, it was always her, the defected doll, the defected human. Were dolls meant to live? Such an eternal life is wasted on her.

    Zaqiel's eyes narrowed to a glare as he said, "Am I that awful to you?" Quickly, Sorozai's hands rose and began to fiddle with the air as if catching an invisible fly.

    "No, no, no!" she repeated, bursting her voice right at Zaqiel. "You're wrong! You could never be more wrong!" Her voice only rose and Zaqiel's eyes relaxed into a sarcastic face.

    "Is that so? Is that why I'm being fired?" he asked.

    "No!" Why didn't he get it? Why didn't he understand how constricting she was to him! A living doll such as her should be taken care of by herself, there were no buts about it. She knew this, and so she told him. It had nothing to do with him, personally.

    After her explanation, Zaqiel relaxed; he even laughed! He walked around the table and pushed Sorozai down into her chair. He took out a small screwdriver and peeled back the rubber skin from her elbow to see the bare joint. "What are you doing?" she shouted and tried to put the rubber coating back but his grip was too firm. Despite her constant squirming and moving, Zaqiel managed to tighten the joint.

    "There we go," he said and then continued to peel back the skin.

    "If you're done, why do you continue to take away the rubber coating?" She had stopped squirming now and just watched as he continued somewhere else, finding the seem and peeling back the joint coverings.

    "I like it better when I see your joints. It makes it easier to know when they need repair, like this," he said, bending down and tightening an ankle joint. "If I repair them, you won't need to spend money on new joints, right?"

    "You're only saying that so you have a higher salary," she said flatly. Taken as a beat to the bone, Zaqiel still put on a feigned hurt.

    "You break me, Madam." And he stood up, took the contract off the desk, and ripped it. "So I revoke the resignation contract." Sorozai stayed quiet after that, and let Zaqiel work late with her on the accounting. The next day, she still didn't have the rubber skin.