Shiroi wondered, bleakly, what he had gotten himself into THIS time. First, the psycho man who had sent him into a very black hole.

Wait, but he was going down, how on earth did he fall through the main floor, break the ceiling and end up on the twentieth floor?

Shiroi rolled his eyes, it seemed that SOMEBODY didn’t believe in the law of gravity.

~~

Somewhere else, Spider sneezed explosively and glared at her beta reader across from her. Hikari shrugged and continued to draw/ignore the author, causing said author to begin to have a certain twitching problem in her left eyelid. A sudden conclusion dawned on her, and she switched on the computer, opened a certain document and poised the cursor threateningly over a character, one Shiroi Kumo.

~~

But then again, Shiroi decided that if gravity shouldn’t exist during some points in his life, he wouldn’t begrudge it. After all, he COULD have ended up getting squashed like a pancake if gravity did let him fall through that evil little hole.

Shiroi coughed to himself and stopped his thoughts from digressing too far, his boss, after all, was staring at him and waiting for a response.

What did he ask again?

“Uh… Shiroi.”

Kumo blinked at the candidate. He was dirty, young, and looking very lost. That couldn’t be a good… Wait, he DID hire Kurid, and the kid did come into his office dirty, young, and looking very lost. Of course, the latter was mainly because he was a directional retard. Meaning, leave him alone in the mall for five minutes, and he’ll somehow end up in the fountain.

Don’t ask; recurring memories such as those still scarred the don.

“Your name is … White?”

The lower head coughed and finally heaved himself out of the trashed albeit comfortable looking chair. Kumo wondered what it would feel like against his tushie..

“Shiroi Kumo, sir.” Said the lower head, refraining from using the term “Kumo-sama” once he realized the matching part of their names. Yes, it took him ten years to figure out that his don (who used to be his don’s younger brother) had the same name as he did. Well, his was sort of a name junction because everyone ALWAYS called him Shiroi Kumo and not just Shiroi and not just Kumo.

Which made him wonder, did he have a last name? Or was Shiroi his last name…? Or even—

“And that’s all you need to do to become a top head.” Finished Kumo with a smile.

He motioned for the white version of himself to come in before he pushed him into a seat and stuck his face very close to the very surprised lower head.

“Do you have what it takes?” he asked darkly.

For what? Wondered the baffled and somewhat uncomfortable Shiroi.

Don’t answer, just be honest and say you didn’t hear what he said, it’s not that hard. Don’t be stupid, and just say:

“Yes, I do.”

Okay, I was aiming for: “Could you repeat that again?” But “Yes, I do” is good enough FOR DIGGING YOUR OWN GRAVE! His mind screeched at him before peevishly blipping out of existence.

Shiroi wasn’t quite sure now, but he was almost positive that he needed his brain if he wanted to survive this.

Kumo, on the other hand, obviously did not hear the exchange the lower head had with his brain, and began to smile evilly.

“Then lets begin.”