Disclaimer: The characters within this story all belong to CLAMP.
Warnings: Cursing, Yuko-plots.
Summary: Prince Watanuki goes in search of some missing documents.
Completed: February 3, 2010
AN: This is a day late. D: And today's will be coming tomorrow, too! -shot-

Investigations Dep't
by: Kagome-reincarnation

"Your Highness," the elderly maid scolded, "You must take better care of yourself!" The wrinkles around her eyes were soft – they were wrinkles wrought from laughter as opposed to stress, despite her current predicament.

"I'm fine," the prince responded, waving her off with a single hand as he sat at his desk, beginning to look over the paperwork that he dealt with on a daily basis. Although he was not yet the king, he'd been assigned certain duties to look after, and every year, he gained more. It was, his father had explained, another way of easing him into the responsibilities he would bear as king.

For his part, though, the prince didn't want to be king. His father was doing a well enough job, and though he knew it was unavoidable, he wished the event would never come to pass. As it was, he was still young, even if he was considered an adult. Chances were, there was nothing to worry about… But that didn't stop him from fearing the responsibility.

Kimihiro frowned as he looked over the documents on his desk. The idiot that had done these hadn't even filed them properly! Half of them should have gone to Agriculture or Local, and the rest should have gone to Investigations… The prince scowled fearsomely at the papers before gathering them up into three neat piles.

He considered sending a servant to take them but decided against it. He didn't want to look weak in front of his caretaker and give her yet another reason to attempt to put him to bed – and out of commission. He stacked them carefully, making sure he knew where one set ended and the next began, and left the office he used.

It didn't take him very long to get to the Agricultural branch – it wasn't too far from his own set of offices. He did, however, suppose that the relative distance could also be a reason that the documents had been confused. He'd dropped the papers off with the clerk in the front. She'd said that all the papers and documents they'd received had been addressed to them, which meant that his own papers were either with the Local branch or Investigations.

A quick trot – not even five minutes, really – had him with the Local branch. Agriculture and Local shared the same building, although both branches of the government that his father ran had their own storage and records systems. There, too, he found no clue to the whereabouts of his papers. He dropped off theirs and, with a quick wave to the long, black-haired girl at the front.

It took him quite a while to get to investigations, though. As they might be needed anywhere at a moment's notice – the palace guard always touched everything, ruining possible evidence – they were towards the center of the grounds.

The prince was decided – Investigations absolutely had to have his papers, if only because he didn't want to have to file a MD-32. Missing papers, no matter how he looked at them, were not misplaced documents. And yet, the forms were all labeled with the same initials. It was annoying, and he hated feeling sloppy each time he had to do so.

He might threaten or complain that some group or person was trying to sabotage him, but it had quickly become obvious that he wasn't the only person to fall victim to the terrible delivery system that the palace had. He scowled as he thought about it, glaring at the path on his walk to the strategically placed building.

He paused outside the door, steeling himself for the encounter ahead of him. He glared at the door, as though it were its fault that his papers had gotten mixed up with a bunch of other departments. He breathed in once and then out once, and then headed for the door.

Entering almost cautiously, he was relieved to find that it was just like every other department. Upon realizing that he'd just had the thought, though, he began to mentally scold himself – of course it would look the same! Just because they had a different focus, it didn't mean that they weren't one of the branches of ministry beneath his father, the king.

"Excuse me," he addressed the woman at the front, sounding more confident than he felt. "There was a mix up with the deliveries today and I seem to have received papers from Investigations…" He paused a moment, letting his eyes linger on the black, oddly shaped… meat bun? He stared at it for only a moment, reminding himself that it was rude. "I was hoping you might have received some from Foreign Affairs or Negotiations…?" He passed the Investigations documents he'd received to her.

The woman stood up, picking up the black thing as she did. She had the most interesting expression on her face. It was, were he to be sincere, a rather nice expression – one of glee. He himself, however, felt a shudder of dread passing through his frame. Suddenly very nervous about the woman before him, he took a step back from the counter.

"Although we haven't received any papers from Foreign Affairs…" she said, drawing out the words with a humorous gleam in her eyes. Prince Kimihiro's bad feeling grew worse.

"We got some from Negotiations!" the small black thing piped in, and the prince took a startled step back. He'd thought it was some sort of plush doll… Obviously not. The thing was talking. And moving.

"I… I see," he said, almost faintly. "May I have them, please?"

The woman pressed a finger to her cheek even as her other hand put the black thing at the level of her face. "You'll have to talk to Shizuka for that," she said.

Although Watanuki couldn't be entirely sure, he could've sworn that the two had just exchanged evil glances.

He nodded, accepting her words. His instincts were telling him to high tail it out of there. "Where may I find him?"

The black ball that moved and spoke pointed towards the door. "Go through there and take a left. His should be the last door on the right."

Somehow worried for his safety (despite the fact that he was a prince – and who the hell would attack him in the Investigations office?), Kimihiro nodded and smiled, heading for the door at a stride slightly faster than his usual lingering walk.

A quick glance behind him as he passed through the door revealed that the woman and her little pet were watching him with the same expressions in place. He wasn't sure what it was until he'd gotten to the door labeled "Shizuka Doumeki, Dep't Head."

Dammit, he thought to himself. He was nervous – he'd had plenty of talk with department heads and ministers and other highly-ranked nobles and whatnot – but rarely had he ever needed to request anything of them. He usually just ordered them to do whatever it was that he needed. Today, however, it was obvious that he couldn't do such a thing. Business and rank were things that he, like his father, preferred to keep separate as much as possible, no matter how difficult. As it was, they always treated their peers equally, and their subordinates as well. It was all they could do.

Sighing to himself – as if irked by his own nervousness – Prince Kimihiro held a single fist against the door, rapping against it sharply.

It was a disinterested but deep voice that spoke from within: "Enter."