Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ A Day in the Life of an Ex-Warlord ❯ One-Shot

A Day in the Life of an Ex-Warlord

By Cat

Disclaimer and Notes: First of all, I do not own the warlords, or the series Ronin Warriors/Yoroiden Samurai Troopers and I'm not making money from this.

That having been said, I just want to tell you that this story is just a piece of junk. The only reason it was written is because I made a promise to someone that I would write them a fic using one or more of the Warlords. Of course, I don't remember why I promised, but that's not important. This is probably better than the others I've written, though.

I had an epiphany this morning. I realized - with less surprise than I should have - that despite all appearance of intelligence, I lived and worked with a bunch of stupid people.

I woke up to the sound of metal pans clanging together, intertwined with an impressive vocabulary of curses from Dais. This was quickly followed by the smell of burning food. I wasn't quite sure what it had been before, but it was charcoal after Dais got a hold of it. Apparently the smoke detector in the hall was in agreement with me because it started screeching and wouldn't turn off for a full ten minutes.

That's just the start of my typical morning.

I hurried to catch a shower in the one bathroom that Kayura, Dais, Sekhmet, and I shared. The smoke detector was like an alarm clock for the petite lady and the grouchy ex-warlord of venom. If I didn't get there before them, I was stuck waiting for an hour and then I'd be late for work. Again. I have enough problems being on time as it is, thank-you-very-much.

I made it there just in time to slam the door in Sekhmet's face. It really is a satisfying sound. I showered as quickly as possible and made a mad dash back to my room so as to avoid pain and torture at the hands of the two people waiting in the hall. I heard a minor scuffle ensue as I dressed for work, then a triumphant whoop from Kayura as she managed to secure her spot in the bathroom ahead of Sekhmet. His curses mingled with those of Dais as more pots clattered in the kitchen.

I rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Coat and keys were snatched off their hooks and I was out the door before Dais could even think about forcing his food-turned-rocks on me. I'd really rather shove a rusty spoon through my skull; there's less pain and a better chance of survival.

The drive to work was fairly uneventful. We'd been in the Mortal Realm for over a year and I had been making this particular trip for about nine months of that. Nine whole months of the same exact boring schedule and yet I stick with it. Shit, I really am a masochist.

I made it into the storage room and punched in just as the clock hit 9:00. I allowed myself a small smirk as my shift leader came in, scowling because I'd managed to crush his hopes of being able to lecture me so early on in the day. Arrogant prick.

Okay, so maybe I'm not as… generous as I could be concerning my supervisor. The fact is, I'm rude and obnoxious and I don't take shit from anyone. It doesn't help that I derive an unholy amount of joy from baiting the man in charge.

The rest of the guys and I trudged along behind the Weasel Man, silently lamenting the fact that it was only Monday and we still had four more days to go afterwards. Half of the men I worked with at the factory were married with families to support. They liked to have the time and energy to be with the wife and kids, but working the machines and loading heavy boxes left little time for all that. The rest of us were fairly young, nothing to hold us down. Working a 9 to 5 job wasn't on our list of Things We'd Most Like to Do, but everyone needs money.

We paused as the Weasel ran off to his desk in search of his clipboard and pen. Honestly, I found this to be one of the best parts of my day. Stopping in the office meant stopping in with the ladies. Very nice and attractive ladies who happened to like being around very nice, attractive men. Not that I didn't enjoy the pretty women, but my favorite part was watching the other guys try to impress members of the opposite sex.

The women usually sat at their desks and looked shyly and discreetly through the work line, but today they were clustered around one of the desks in the far end of the room. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were pointing and gesturing wildly, titters of laughter floating out over the room. I wondered what was going on, but didn't have time to dwell on it for long. Time to play with the big, loud toys.

"Yo, Cale!" someone shouted to me from below. I looked down from my perch on top of the railing where I was eating lunch.

"What?" I answered.

"Did you see her?"

I rolled my eyes heavenward. Am I supposed to be freakin' psychic now? Give me a break. "'Her' who?"

"The new secretary."

Oh, that. "Nope, can't say I have.

"Jeez, how could you miss her?"

I'm not only supposed to be psychic, but I'm supposed to be God and see everything, too. Can't a guy get a break? Now, while I am by no means immune to the female of the species, I don't spend day and night obsessing over them either. Apparently that's a sign that your either gay or…well, gay. There isn't any middle ground.

"I guess I had a lot on my mind," I told him, hoping he'd take the hint and crawl off somewhere.

He shook his head at me, clearly exasperated with my lack of response, but turned and left me alone all the same. Maybe there is such a thing as miracles after all.

The rest of the day passed as usual. I played with the big machine, moved shit around, wished pain and death on my supervisor, and tried to ignore the morons I worked with. I couldn't really do anything about the last two. I pictured dropping a huge crate on Weasel's head a few times, kinda like Dorothy dropping that house on the witch in that Wizard of Something movie. That made me smile for a good half an hour. Unfortunately, acting it out would mean a whole lot of problems, the least of which being the loss of my job. That's what I like to call a Big No-No.

The bell rang, the machines stopped, and there was such a collective sigh of relief I thought I'd be blown over. One day down, four more to go.

God, life was cruel.

The spirit of temporary liberation bounced around the storage room like a crazed bumper car as we gathered our things and prepared to leave. I took my time, knowing that it wouldn't do me any good to try and get out now. The parking lot would be a zoo! I'd get out to the car and then have to sit there for twenty minutes in order to make it through the parking lot and onto the rode. It was the evening car stampede.

Time passed slowly as I made my way down the hall. I made a quick right in the direction of the door and came to a crashing haul. Literally. Something - I wasn't quite sure what it was - hit me in the head on my way to the ground and I saw fireworks. Not those tiny, benign stars everyone else sees, but a full-on explosion.

When the lights cleared, and the pain became less like a sledgehammer to the head and more like a baseball bat, I cracked my eyes open to see what had happened. There was a woman sitting next to me, rubbing her head and muttering incoherently to herself. I took a wild guess as to what hit me.

I propped myself up on my elbows, my head throbbing. "You ok?" I asked. She glanced up at me, startled, and winced. Movement bad.

"Yeah, just gonna have a nice lump on my head for the next several centuries," she answered. "What do you have in that head of yours anyway, cement?" She pushed onto her knees and stood up. She put her hand on the wall to support herself for a moment but quickly let go.

"Funny," I said, getting to my feet as well. "I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Sorry," she replied. "I guess I was just in a hurry."

Funny. She didn't look like she was in a rush, but since when am I an expert on women? She didn't seem inclined to continue our conversation either. Ah, well, places to go, things to do, home cooked food to avoid. I picked my jacket up off the floor and continued on my way, quickly putting the incident out of my mind.

The drive home was fun. Got to love traffic. I pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. There was no use in hiding outside. Dais would just bring the food out to me if I didn't go in. To top it off, he'd be pissy all night because I shunned his cooking. Nothing is worse than a pissy ex-warlord. Except, of course, a pissy warlord who's still in practice.

I sighed and hung up my coat in the hall closest. I could taste the charcoal already. On the plus side, none of us really had to worry about getting out of shape from eating too much.

We sat down to dinner and played 'let's see how creative we can be about hiding the fact that we're not eating from Dais', as was a nightly ritual. Kayura got real creative the other night when she started coughing and made Dais get up and get her a glass of water. As soon as he was out of the room, she jumped from her chair, ran to the window, and dumped the whole plate outside. He was so worried about her that he didn't even notice.

When dinner was over we washed the dishes and went our separate ways. It was best not to spend too much time together right after work or we might kill one another. Then there would be bodies to hide and who can get a decent night's sleep when they're up to the wee hours hiding bodies?

Dais preferred to spend his time reading, and Kayura and Sekhmet had a fascination with the T.V., but I didn't share those interests. I didn't share much with them at all. I liked to spend my time working on my bike. A few months back I discovered the joys of riding a motorcycle and was able to pick one up for a decent price. Of course, the reason it was so cheap was because it needed a crap-load of work, but I could deal with that. It gave me something to do, something to look forward to at the end of the day. It probably wouldn't be in good riding condition for a few months anyway.

There were no windows in the small one car garage off of the kitchen. Only the overhead lights made it possible to work in there. I don't know how much time passed by, but Dais came in to get me after a while and told me I had a visitor. It took me a moment to comprehend him, being in my little zone and all. I told him I'd be in after I washed my hands and he left.

I rinsed the dirt and grease off before entering the house again - Kayura would kill me if I didn't - and worked my way to the living room. There, sitting on the couch next to Sekhmet, was the woman I'd run into on my way out of work. She leapt to her feet and clasped her hands in front of her. Now, I'm not sure what I did, but whatever it was, she didn't seem pleased to be in my living room. She looked at me like I was the Big Bad Wolf and she was Little Red Riding Hood.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked. I'll admit that I was a bit curious as to how she knew who I was and where I lived. Maybe it was the whole psychic-thing again.

"Your wallet must have fallen out when we ran into each other," she answered. She stepped around the coffee table and handed my wallet back to me. At least it answered my questions.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to come all the way out here," I told her. "You could have given it to me at work tomorrow." Sekhmet excused himself and left the room.

"Actually," she began, "I wanted to talk to you. Had I known who you were earlier I would have gotten it out of the way then."

All right, now I was really curious.

"My name is Dina," she said. If I was supposed to be impressed, it didn't happen. She paused for a moment to gauge my reaction. Seeing none, she quickly continued. "I'm the new supervisor. More specifically, I'm going to be your new supervisor. I just - well…" Dina trailed off, her face growing red.

"And…?" I prompted her.

"And I've heard some stories about you," she rushed on. "I've heard some stories from the other supervisors about how you are and I just wanted to ask you if you could not do that at least at first because I'm really a nice person and I just started working there and I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't get me fired or anything my first week," she finished off, panting.

A smile tugged my lips, but I wouldn't let it out. After all, it would ruin the tough guy effect I was going for. Instead I shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "We'll see."

She looked more than a little worried, but I guess she decided not to test her luck just yet. The young brunette said a hasty goodbye and practically sprinted out the door like a runner trying to win an Olympic race. I finally let the smile I'd been trying to hide show through. The idea of work got a whole lot more interesting after that.

Note: Not a self insert, and most definitely NOT a romance.