-3: Foreign Familiarity-

The CCG building was what one would expect any governmental building to be; practical, efficient, and slightly dull. There were Rc scanners in the lobby though, an expensive touch. That said, when I had read about them in a magazine and mentioned them to a tech at BGA I had been laughed at. He used a lot of technical terms, but the gist was that they were incredibly expensive to buy, barely funded by their developers, and that trying to get the budget for them would be like squeezing blood from a stone.

I didn't know how true that was, but I wasn't going to make a mention of it. After all, I was here to observe, not advise. Well, unless I was asked.

There were introductions to make and hands to shake, in a never-ending line of new faces and formal friendly greetings. After that, I was treated to a tour of the building, going through various offices, a huge conference room and even down to the Quinque lab in the sub-basement. After that came the paperwork.

Bringing a Quinque across international borders was what I considered an overly complicated process. First, it had to be registered in an international database. Then the user had to travel to the actual country, complete paperwork with the local government and have them approved. After that, you then had to wait for the Quinque to arrive, and sign yet more paperwork upon receipt. Personally, I thought there had to be a better solution, but I was a decade of promotions away from being able to change that.

In this case, my Quinque had been sent on the same flight as I, so it was in fact in lockup at the lab where I was currently filling out the paperwork. There was little doubt the CCG had done the same for their man.

The main reason the BGA was hurrying this along as much as possible was the distinct lack of information on Ghoul activity in Japan. I found it unsurprising; social code here was not to talk about your problems to others, much less the entire world.

From the moment I had stepped in the door, to picking up my Quinque, I was impressed. As somebody who had spent a lot of time on military bases in varying levels of order and formality, everything I saw was…pristine. No disordered desks, no piles of paperwork, no drones dashing through the halls. Maybe the Germans and Japanese had been comparing notes on efficiency. The suits definitely helped that air of professionalism. If I hadn't known this was the CCG, my second guess would be that I was in a high-priced law firm.

I knew better though. There were case sheets pinned to corkboards, attache cases carried and sitting under desks, but most telling were the eyes of most of the staff—like the eye of a hurricane. I had seen enough of that look of to know that there was indeed a lot of action at this office.

For the time being, it looked like I would be working with Shinohara and Juuzou. I didn't mind that; Shin was friendly and laid-back, plus I had a good read on him as a decent guy, if a little sunny in the mornings for my taste. Juuzou was…odd, not just by value of the stitches all over him, and I wasn't sure if he had been questioning me out of curiosity or sizing me up.

Between the Qunque paperwork, the tours and the numerous introductions, it was afternoon by the time we could do anything practical. And by practical, I mean paperwork.

Paperwork in the BGA was all-electronic and had the alluring option of being able to dictate to text. CCG paperwork was a stark contrast; distinctly-old school—all on actual paper—giving an almost noir-like feeling minus the typewriters and cigarette smoke. Shinohara was nice enough to pass over a few forms for me to look at and I had to admit, they were pretty thorough; meeting minutes, investigative procedures with interviews, Ghoul attack reports. Exhaustive and exhausting. I had never liked paperwork, even if it was requisition forms.

"It's quite a bit," Shinohara's voice derailed my train of thought, "but we get used to it."

"Paperwork sucks." Juuzou was hunched over a form, looking like a child being forced to eat vegetables.

"Military paperwork was worse," I noted, turning over a page, "they had a form for everything."

Juuzou's eyes lit up at this admission. "Like what?"

"Almost literally everything," I began, "gear, ammunition, consumables. And they wanted a reason for everything."

"Why's that?"

"Eh, sometimes it made sense, for the sake of accountability or safety." I shrugged, then grinned "Other times I think the supply officers like to be pests."

Juuzou laughed, a sound that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.

"What's your current investigation?" I tried to relocate the conversation to something less comedic.

"We've been working on the Binge-Eater case," Shinohara passed me a sheaf of field reports, "so far as we can tell, the Ghoul started the pattern in the eleventh ward before moving to the twentieth."

"I see." Literally in this case, as he waved my attention toward a map of the city on a corkboard with a spattering path of red pins.

"We've been running this for a while now, but she—at least we think it's a she—dropped off the radar about...I'd have to go back and check the paperwork to be exact, but coming up on more than a month."

"Might be dead." I noted, without thinking.

I quickly uttered an apology, but Shinohara waved it off.

"It's a likely outcome," he nodded, as Juuzou rolled his eyes. "but in any case, we still need to run down the leads and poke our heads under the usual rocks. We'll probably head to the eleventh district tomorrow to review more files."

Next to him, Juuzou made a noise that sounded like a dog being told he couldn't sit on the couch.

He kept himself too busy to do much paperwork though, by way of taking it upon himself to educate me on the wards, CCG procedures and a long list of personal anecdotes. The kid spoke so rapidly that I lost him on more than a few phrases. I didn't have the heart to ask him to slow down.

In any case, the paperwork—mostly done by Shinohara—lasted until the end of the workday, at which point Juuzou was yawning pointedly. Shin took the likely hint, finished his sheet and the three of us left the office. Once again, I was invited to join them for dinner, but this time I had to decline—jet lag was setting in and I couldn't guarantee that I would stay awake for much longer.

They dropped my off at the hotel, Juuzou waving from the back seat as the car pulled away, Shinohara promising to be back at the same time tomorrow. After the car disappeared around a corner, I wandered off in the other direction, into the city lights. Patting my pocket lightly, I made sure I had the city map one of the guys at the BGA had given me. With it, getting lost wouldn't be a worry. I knew this district, the twentieth, was mostly safe thanks to Juuzou's lecture so I had that going for me as well.

Still, mostly harmless wasn't a guarantee of not being dinner.