Fukuda's office was the prime real estate of Buttercombe Academy.
The courtyard reflected from the lenses in her glasses as she stared out the large bay windows. She could see what more or less amounted to the entire campus. A few buildings escaped her eye, namely the dormitories, but the view could hardly be called spoiled. Natural light filled the vast, apartment-sized office, reflecting off of the sheen from the newly installed hardwood floors.
Behind her, artwork hung from the walls of her native Japan. Not exactly priceless, but certainly expensive enough to impress. The recent addition of a set of wooden masks had arrived not long ago, and stared off into the view with her. The decor, she liked to think, was a nice mixture of Eastern essentialism and Western comfort. A very minimalist approach to decorating was important in playing the part of a humble, overworked Vice Principal.
The picture that the two of them painted—her and Shannon—helped complete the image. Ms. Polluck, headmistress and decadent to the extreme, where Dr. Hinamizawa was rather svelte and modest. Shannon was loud, satisfied by the material. Fukuda was quiet and approached problems with a more subtle approach.
Most importantly, Shannon was fat. And Fukuda was not.
The headmistress of the Academy was a greedy piglet, suckling on the teat of the Yeng corporation til she'd burst. The partnership between the two of their organizations, at this point, existed largely as a formality. Everyone, she'd like to think, knew who really ran things around campus. While Headmistress Polluck was stuffing her face with the finest foods that money could buy, shirking her responsibilities to nap at her desk, or busying herself with what little public relations work she bothered herself with these days, Dr. Fukuda Hinamizawa was busy running everything else. On the administrative side of things, she'd address any issues of student and staff, negotiate prices for things like textbooks, classroom amenities (whatever Yeng couldn't provide for the school itself without raising too many eyebrows.)
And on the business side of things...
"Look at them all." Dr. Hinamizawa watched a gaggle of particularly overweight girls plod slowly along the sidwalks of her courtyard. The three of them were so broad in their backsides that they had to walk in a V, lest their pillowy pillars of legs or fleshy thigh meat collide and bump them into the grass. "They're coming along so nicely."
She could recognize them from here. Abby Ackers, Bianca Boulevardez, and Callie Comacho. Sophomores, all of the same graduating class. Part of Group X3-94—experimental group B, given hormones that stimulate growth in the rear, as well as appetite. Placed on SSS upon enrollment, given a steady diet laced with aforementioned chemicals. All three were up nearly a hundred pounds since their enrollment, with their natural fat distributions overridden to coincide with that of the compound they'd been given. Her supervisors would be pleased with the results.
Yeng was happy to provide Buttercombe Academy with funding. It was happy to shill out money for equipment, food, furniture, anything that fat hog in the office across the hall could dream up in her greediest wet dreams. But it had assets to protect. And after a twenty year career in protecting those assets in Daven's Port, Dr. Hinamizawa had more than proved she was the woman for the job.
Ever since she'd taken over administrative duties, the school had never run more quietly. Shannon was the triply-chinned face of the school, but Dr. Hinamizawa had quickly become its heart and soul.
She took a sip of her wine. Viscous red liquid sloshed lazily in the glass.
It was good to be in charge.
"Dr. Hinamizawa?" her assistant's voice pierced her silence from the intercom, "Call for you on line one."
"Of course." Fukuda said with a practiced smile in her heavy accent, "Thank you."
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