Our New Family

“Everyone should be in the office today, if I’m not mistaken.”

Suitcase in hand, Katy Shimizu and I followed our new boss through several elevators and hallways until we reached the door of an office with glass walls labeled: Division 3.

Perhaps the most memorable thing about that walk was seeing how serious the building’s virus containment measures were. They even disinfected the soles of our shoes…

“It’s funny, neither of you seem very chatty,” Shinpei laughed before entering the office. “Today’s about introductions, especially since you’re going to be partners. Why not take this chance to formally introduce yourselves before we go in?”

At that moment, my eyes met Katy’s—an instant mistake. There was something in her piercing gaze that left me unsettled: indifference, maybe even superiority. Coldness.

As if I, with all my humanity, were an obstacle to her work—or at least, that’s how I interpreted it.

What had I done to disappoint her so quickly? We’d only just met minutes ago, but that pale expression already weighed on my conscience.

“Mr. Yamamoto, I don’t think it’s necessary…”

“Just call me Shinpei—I’m not that old,” he interrupted politely, with a hint of military discipline.

All under Katy’s gaze and sigh, as if she was even more annoyed.

“S-Shinpei, I don’t think that’s really necessary right now…” I smiled awkwardly, trying to sound cordial.

“Nice to meet you, Isayama Tore. As Mr. Shinpei already mentioned, my name is Katy Shimizu.” She proceeded to open the office door. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. I hope we can both be useful to the company…”

She said this without even looking at me, probably irritated that I hadn’t even offered to shake her hand.

This is going from bad to worse…

I thought, perhaps in perfect sync with Shinpei, as the three of us walked in.

The office was on the 13th floor, glass-walled in every direction, allowing natural light to flood the space. The most curious feature was a strange machine in one corner, red and white, and the distant yet welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee that filled the air.

We were greeted by a long table full of holographic screens and five smiles that turned to us at the sound of the door opening, all of them still with their holographic control glasses on, as if they’d just adopted puppies. Well, three of them did; the other two couldn’t have cared less about our arrival.

At the far end of the table, there were two ID cards, so I had a pretty good idea of where my spot was.

Why are they staring at us so much? Smile, smile…

“Follow me; let’s go chair by chair… Felix, these are Isayama and Katy. I hope you can share your experience with them,” Shinpei said to the blond, bearded man with massive shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Felix,” said the model student.

Smiling, he set down the dumbbell he was holding and placed his coffee cup on the table. I decided to nickname him “the muscle man.”

“Wow, youth is in the air!” he exclaimed, shaking my hand vigorously. “I can see you’re in good shape. Don’t worry, you’ll see—this job is a piece of cake.” He also shook Katy’s hand.

“P-pleasure to meet you…” I smiled despite the pain.

Now with one dislocated shoulder each, we approached the woman across the table.

“If you hear pop music at 7:30 in the morning, that’s his doing,” said pointing at Felix the elegant blonde while adjusting her headphones: Irina Kaft. “It’s a pleasure.”

Ryunosuke Mann, to her left, showed no interest whatsoever. I nicknamed the last one “the one with the freckle” for obvious reasons.

They’re all so…

“Hi, my name’s Carlos!” The next man approached with a smile, shook our hands, and said his name was Carlos. That’s all.

“Oh, joy fills my soul! I can already smell the tulips blooming this spring!” The last of our colleagues, Hiro Oda, the poet, exclaimed as he took and kissed Katy’s hand. “New petals, new emotions!”

“P-pleasure…” She was visibly unsure of how to react.

Smile, smile…

“It’s about time we had fresh blood in the office. Finally, we can breathe the hope of youth…”

I tried to keep my composure despite the chaos and laughter of the poet and the muscle man, who watched from his seat.

“What are you laughing at, Felix? You could try to read at least one percent of the books Hiro reads…” commented Irina before being interrupted by an indescribable noise.

“What is that?!” The noise was deafening, like one of those old-world engines sputtering to life.

“Don’t worry, Isayama. It’ll only take a few seconds!” Shinpei shouted cheerfully as he activated that demon machine.

The mechanical roars served to fill Shinpei’s cup with coffee.

“Shinpei, you’re going to scare off the newcomers with that contraption!” Felix laughed even harder.

“A hobby is a hobby…” Shinpei proudly smelled his freshly brewed cup.

Amidst the prevailing chaos, I was curious to see Katy’s reaction. She remained impassive, seemingly determined not to falter on her first day. I had to look away as soon as she noticed me staring.

“Third coffee of the day, and it’s not even eleven yet…” Hiro commented, casually slinging his arm around my shoulders.

“I-I see…”

…

Later.

“They concluded that having everyone live in the same building was the only way to prevent the virus from spreading and endangering our families,” Shinpei explained as we walked through the hallway of one of the residential floors, higher up than the office, same building.

“Makes sense,” I replied, while my colleague lost herself in the view of the buildings outside.

“Yup. First stop: this will be your room, Isayama, right across from mine so I can keep a close eye on you…” he joked, taking my hand to open the door with my biometric print.

The room was simple and straightforward, more than enough for a guy like me.

“Katy, yours is identical. We’ll check it out next.”

“Roger.”

“Isayama, make yourself comfortable and review the protocols. At three this afternoon, you’ll both accompany me to visit one of our potential clients.”

“Ok.”

And so, I did just that.

With nothing better to do, I made my bed, put my clothes in the wardrobe, tested out the bathroom, and admired the spectacular views from the top of the tower.

It was worth noting that the residential floors were the ones the highest and they served as the home of more than two hundred people.

…

That's how Katy Shimizu was: pragmatic, direct, distant. No, she was correct, but curious. No, bold, mature, exemplary… Trying to decipher her, wasn’t easy task.

Hours later, I found myself at the building’s entrance with her, waiting for Shinpei to show up with the car. Standing there formally, she kept her hands behind her back.

I didn’t dare say anything. Especially not after catching her looking at me again. What the hell could she be thinking?

All I could interpret in her expression was a distant unease…

We spent a couple of minutes watching cars go by, nitrogen-powered and emitting only vapor, which helped filter out contaminated particles like those of the S-Flu.

Another innovation in the fight against the virus.

“So, Isayama Tore…” she spoke with a delicate voice, as if carefully selecting her words. “Why did you decide to become a contagion investigator?”

Her tone was gentle, nothing like it had been during our introduction.

The question caught me off guard. I remembered my last day at the hospital—the silence after the crying, the trembling of my hand, the horror of ending a human life…

“It’s a long story…”

She tried to insist; I could see it in her eyes. Luckily, I escaped her question with the sudden arrival of the car.

“Shinpei’s here. Shall we go?” I smiled, trying to reciprocate her initiative with friendliness.

I don’t want to burden her with my traumas…

As expected, the car ride restored the earlier silence.

“Take a look at this case file: you’ll be always given documents like this one,” our boss said, passing us a brown folder, immediately taking another sip from what was likely his fourth or fifth cup of the day.

“Y-yes. Shimizu?”

“You can read it first… Also, call me Katy while you’re at it…” she murmured.

“T-thanks. Sorry, Katy…”

Why do I always end up annoying her more?!

And so, I opened the folder and quickly glanced through it before handing it to my colleague:

“Joshua Cam, 61 years old. Multiple organ rot. Life expectancy without implants: certain death.”

Attached to the report was a family photo. They looked happy.

Survival rate: zero…

Wordlessly, I passed it to my colleague, who remained, as always, quietly annoyed. I waited for her reaction: in silence, the only change I noticed was a subtle shift in her gaze, as if she was lost in thought. Seconds later, she closed the folder and looked resolutely out the window.

“You can see that being a contagion investigator goes far beyond selling Cellos implants…” Shinpei added.

If this man doesn’t get implants, he’ll die…

“It’s also about saving lives…”

Suddenly, my right hand started trembling. Once again, my new job was bringing me closer to death and S-Flu than I could currently handle…