A/N: An attempt to write another story when I have yet to start on another chapter of any one of my 'in progress' stories, let alone getting around to finishing them.
'Passenger S526T901Ω'
The boy's step echoed from through the rimmed nave of the station, still fresh with the odour of steel, rubber, and industrial sterility. Its columns, hundreds of thin, black, serpentine steel wires, stiff and rigid, spirals upwards, entangling itself with the other, before fanning out to frame the dull, pied glass of the vaunted ceiling, which reflected off the waxed floor, only interspaced by the row of wooden benches that sat far apart and face to face. In the far end, a fountain sat, like a baptismal font, a green, copper eagle perched upon the dried red rocks, white and green stains outline the path of the waters. Above it, in the vestibule, and also looking down upon a portrait of the Generalissimo and the receptionist yet underneath that, a large, baroque clock face, silhouetted by the morning crepuscule, which reflected off the chandeliers casting semi-circles across the floor, holstered by winged putti and grapevines. The receptionist, a tall, broad shouldered lady, with curled hair, an ill-fitting red vest over her too large blouse, and an expression of fixed boredom and indifference, paid the boy no mind until he was in front of her desk.
'Ticket, please.' She requested, when she finally noticed him. The boy handed the ticket to her, a small yellow slip printed with disordered and incoherent assortments of numbers. She examined it briefly before typing away at her computer.
'Name?'
'Mikado Ryuugamine.' His response was hasty, nervous, unsure.
'Date of Birth?'
'21 March, 1994.'
'Purpose of visit?'
'Re-education.'
She paused, typing the information into the computer, her long nails clicking against the keyboard. After moving her mouse here and there, tapping against it every so often, she silently stared.
'Who is your sponsor?' She asked.
'General Takehashi, ma'am.' At his name, she stared at him with a sudden interest, a look of epiphany dawned in her grey eyes. Her questions stopped, she examine Mikado, a petite boy with blue eyes and jutting hair whose immaculate, tight fitting uniform seem to make him seem even younger.
'So, you will be living with him then?' There was a genuine curiosity in her question, with something of mischievousness in her tone, her thin lips, bright red, curled upwards, in suppressed laughter.
Mikado nodded. 'Oh, yes, he…he said that it was part of my re-education.'
She gave him a slight, knowing smile, 'Here are your papers, and take care.' pronouncing the words 'take care' with a special emphasis.
'Oh…uh…thank you, ma'am.'