There was, Terazuma was convinced, some manner of conspiracy operating to make new shinigami late for their first day of work. The furnishings of his bedroom roundly failed to include any manner of clock; told to be in the office for a moderate 12:30 (police work had had far more arduous hours), it had been past 11:45 when he'd finally dragged himself out of bed, taken one look at the wall clock in the living room, and proceeded to mentally frame every curse he knew as he wolfed down a rather scorched breakfast (toast wasn't meant to have sear marks, he was sure) while scrambling to gather the key and money he'd been given.
Ten minutes after he'd gotten up, he was harassing people on the streets for the way to the nearest--cheap!--clothing store. Half an hour later, he was hurrying home to throw the new clothes unceremoniously on a chair, cursing saleswomen who wouldn't let him leave with the first vaguely appropriately sized things he'd laid eyes on.
Fifteen minutes after that, he was within eyesight of the Juohcho office buildings, huffing and panting fit to burst a lung, clothes rumpled and slightly damp with sweat. When the elevator doors opened on the third floor, he came nose to nose with a highly impatient looking Seiko. His subsequent jump back and startled yelp were, he felt, extremely undignified.
"You're twenty minutes late and a mess, Terazuma-kun," Seiko said sharply. "We give new shinigami the morning to tend to clothes and lunch, not to drag in nearly half an hour late."
"Maybe if you'd give us a little thing called an alarm clock, it wouldn't happen," Terazuma snapped, disheveled and out of sorts.
"Buy one on your way home tonight," Seiko responded, giving him a stern look, "and don't let this happen again tomorrow." Before Terazuma could reply with the sarcastic comment salting his tongue, the man continued. "Come on; we'll get you clocked in and then get started with lessons. Did you look at the rulebook at all last night?" The tone was skepticism distilled into voice.
Rankling, the younger shinigami followed him. "Yes," he said rebelliously, "as a matter of fact, I did."
"Really? How much about shinigami abilities did you find out, then?"
"Not much," grumbled Terazuma, who hadn't made it past the introductory chapter regarding Shokan Division's place in the general scheme of Juohcho.
"We'll start with flight, then. Perhaps it will get you to work more quickly."
As he'd seen airborne shinigami on his mad flight to work but been too harried to waste time trying to emulate them as he'd have liked, the new worker forbore to complain, clocking in as Seiko instructed.
The two of them then headed outside, into one of the gardens around the back, Terazuma wondering if flight came naturally to shinigami, or if it required a jump start. Finding an area that satisfied him--a koi pond, a few willow trees, and some very old stone benches--Seiko gestured for him to sit down. The young man obeyed, eyeing the pond in the suspicion that the water was meant to break his fall.
"Now," Seiko began in a distinctly lecture hall tone. "You were selected from the normal flow of souls because you fit two basic requirements--a strong tie to the living world, Chijou, and a capacity for magic. After that, you were tested by Enma-daioh and judged capable of becoming a shinigami under his jurisdiction."
Terazuma frowned. "I don't remember any tests," he said skeptically. "And I know I don't have any magic."
"No one remembers the tests, Terazuma-kun," the man responded patiently. "They are administered in a plane between life and death. Little is known about such realms because memories about them are never retained. We theorize that the soul cannot actually record events which transpire, and may or may not even retain its memories upon its arrival.
"As for magic," he continued, warming to his subject, "in most cases, the ability is latent in life. The freedom of the soul and the essence of magic distilled in Meifu are believed to awaken it and any special abilities a person may have."
"What kind of special abilities?" he partner asked, intent.
Seiko shrugged. "Any number of things. If there's a pattern, it hasn't been uncovered yet. Tatsumi is one of Meifu's shadow-casters, one of the workers in Heiseicho can bind spells to metalwork, and I believe Kinki District's junior member has some ability involving bringing drawings to life. Occasionally we'll get a telemental--Konoe-kacho has low-level empathy--although abilities that strong are usually manifested during life."
"How do you know you have them?"
"If an ability was latent in life, it often doesn't surface until the physical body is destroyed. One can go years without knowing of an ability, if the body was buried or hidden away after a murder." His voice hadn't changed in the slightest from its brisk tone, but a man who had been law enforcement in life learned to read postures and gazes, and Seiko's stance had gone faintly too still; his eyes had shuttered.
"It's morbid," he went on, unaware of the scrutiny, "but one of the things we are permitted to do early on is be sure that our bodies are properly disposed of, if we can find and burn them without overtly interfering with anything in Chijou."
Electing not to ask how all of this involved his partner, Terazuma pursued a different question. "So why does magic show up right away, and the other things not until the body's gone?"
Seiko shrugged again, seeming to subtly relax. "Another question we don't have all the answers to," he said. "Most think that magic is an inherent part of the soul, and that powers manifested in life are remembered in death. Unearthed powers may remain locked in the body waiting to be discovered until its destruction springs them down the link, where the higher magic levels here make them far more likely to manifest."
"There's a link even after the body's died?"
"Astral projection and resurrection of the dead work on a similar principle, if in opposite directions. The link is far stronger in life; it would take an incredible willpower--far stronger than humans under nearly all circumstances possess--to return to the body after death, so that sort of resurrection must be performed by an outside party."
Terazuma nodded slowly, filtering in the information. Seiko waved it aside.
"In any case," he said, sitting down on another bench," the first thing you must learn is awareness of that magic, and then how to harness it. Flight is the simplest power to explore."
Terazuma nodded against, straightening up attentively.
"Close your eyes," Seiko instructed, "and take stock of yourself. Think of if as assessing yourself for wounds after a battle, or examining yourself in a mirror. Some think of it as listening to a symphony and trying to follow one particular instrument. Some prefer to imagine searching for one face in a multitude. Those who've had spiritual training sense it right away. You won't be so lucky, but whichever analogy works, the magic is there in you now."
Terazuma listened to this for a moment, then tuned the man out, looking within himself.
It's like saying, "We can't tell you what it looks like, but you'll know it when you see it." Real freaking helpful.
Making the effort to restrain his temper, Terazuma knitted his brow, searching for something. But he felt no different than he always did, just more short-tempered than usual.
"You're trying too hard," Seiko observed, watching him. "Let its awareness find you in its own time; just be attentive."
Terazuma scowled, looking harder, even as he wondered how the hell he was supposed to quantify and define the supernatural.
Maybe I am trying too hard... Frowning, he discarded the metaphors his teacher has provided, mulling over others more appropriate. It's like equipment, right? Just something the job gives you. So...
Nightstick. He touched a hand to his belt, where the length of wood always hung. Line. Handgun. Extra ammunition. Cigarettes. Lighter. Wallet. Keys.
And there it was. As Seiko had said, simply an awareness of another tool. He could feel it like cold metal in his hands, and the knowledge of how to access it was there; a firearm he'd never used, and didn't know how to handle, but with an obvious trigger nonetheless.
"Good," Seiko said with perceptible, if only barely so, tones of approval. "That's right."
"That's--it?" Terazuma hazarded, unsure what he'd been expecting, but fairly certain it had been more dramatic than this.
"Don't underestimate it," the other man returned sharply. "It will be the base of everything you do following this. I want you to concentrate on it. Much of this early training is very instinctual, and based on what your file says, I expect high performance from your instincts. Most magic is at its root an expulsion of force, be it speeding the healing process, powering the spells on ofuda, summonings and other spoken incantations, or anything else of that nature."
He's talking like a teacher again. Terazuma kept his trap shut and listened.
"For the most part, using magic is a simple matter of channeling. You feel the way to activate it, don't you? Then do so."
Terazuma hesitated, remembering his weapons analogy, then curiosity won over his caution. Concentrating, he felt at the force for a moment, then--
--there.
The shock of it flooding through him shook him like the staccato of rapid gunfire. It poured out of him, its force snapping at his hair, turning his nerves into a tangled mass of live wire, exhilarating to the very tips of his fingers, and when he gasped, it felt like a jumping spark from the crackling air to his dry mouth--
--and then it stopped, and he dropped to his knees (when had he stood?), panting, his hands trembling.
The tops of well polished shoes moved into his field of vision; he looked up to see Seiko extricating his fingers from a complex position to brush back wind ruffled hair. In the other hand, he still held an ofuda, the edges of the sharp calligraphy glowing softly.
"That," he said concisely, "is what magic is like without proper channeling. This time, I want you to be more prepared to harness it."
Terazuma gaped at him and gasped out an incredulous curse. Seiko looked at him impassively and adjusted his glasses. "I have all night, Terazuma-kun. You, on the other hand, are going to need your rest."
Terazuma gave another weak curse.
Several hours later, he'd managed to master his magic enough that the simple triggering of it didn't completely unman him. Channeling it, he'd managed with a great deal of effort to rise a ragged few inches off the ground.
"A small distance, but it's a start," Seiko allowed, standing back and releasing the ofuda, which crumpled and dissipated into ash as it drifted to the ground. He glanced at his watch, then flicked his gaze back to his new partner. "It's an hour yet before dinner, but you should rest before you try to move around a great deal, in any case."
Feeling decidedly scorched around the edges, the younger shinigami manhandled himself back onto the bench, slumping over on his knees to catch his breath. "No argument here," he said unevenly. He wasn't sure he could walk straight, if at all.
"Very well. Practice tonight, if you like, but you're expected in the office at eight tomorrow morning, so don't stay up all night." The man's voice was calm and matter-of-fact. Terazuma heaved a sigh and nodded wearily.
"Very well, then. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Higuchi-san," Terazuma cut in impulsively as he turned to leave. Seiko slanted a questioning glance over his shoulder. "How long have you been here?"
His senior partner stilled, inspecting him closely. "I died in 1967," he answered finally. "I've been here ever since. Good evening, Terazuma-kun."
And that, it seemed, was that. Breaking out his cigarettes, Terazuma spent a while sitting on the bench, staring into the pond, lost in thought and the persistent, irritating illogic of live fish in a ghost world's koi pond.
The sound of female laughter broke him free of the absent-minded wondering if the fish could heal as well; he looked up as two people entered the garden through one of the vine-grown archways further away from the main building.
The girl--in her early twenties, from her looks, with tumbling waves of shining brown hair and clothes only barely behind what Terazuma remembered as the latest style trend--noticed him first.
"Hey," she heralded him, striding over confidently to give him a curious once-over. "I haven't seen you around; are you new?"
She was followed by her companion, a young man with a friendly grin and clothing far more comfortably out of fashion (blue jeans; Terazuma had begun to wonder if they even existed in Meifu). "I heard Chuugoku's got a new one in," he put in. "Is that right?"
Terazuma ground out his cigarette on the bench and nodded, standing--carefully--to greet them. "Terazuma Hajime," he responded, a shade cautiously. "You two're in Shokan too?"
"Area Seven, Kanto District," the young man confirmed. "Taisencho's shinigami. I'm Yamagata Keiji."
"Choshi Umeko," his partner added with a winning smile. "You really must be new; our case barely took us three days."
"Just started today," Terazuma responded, hoping he wasn't in for another dose of newbie induction ceremonies; once in a man's life was more than enough for that sort of thing.
"And that means..."
"Magic lessons," Keiji finished, voice warm with sympathy, "and a miser's food allowance from Tatsumi-san. You must be starving."
"You look beat. Why don't you come have dinner with us?" Umeko offered.
Terazuma, whose pride was a bit ruffled as it was, looked wary. "I can pay for myself," he answered, a little more brusquely than he'd intended.
They took no offense; the woman laughed again. "I hope so!" she exclaimed. "We don't make a much higher salary than you do."
"We're just offering to show you where all the cheap restaurants are," the man next to her chuckled, "since you haven't been around long enough to know."
Oh. Well, that was all right, then. The two proved true to their word about finding cheap but palatable food. The conversation proved equally enlightening.
"We have to eat cheap food," Umeko confided over noodles. "We spend most of our money on other things."
"Umeko-chan's the worst clothes horse I've ever met," her partner said teasingly.
She tossed her hair, looking at him archly. "Says the one who scrimped every spare penny for three years so he could afford a car, even though he can fly."
Keiji gave a skeptical Terazuma an abashed grin. "I grew up in the country," he explained. "I never really grew out of the fascination with cars."
"What do other people spend it on?" Terazuma asked curiously, by now enough at ease to lounge back in the chair, legs out, arms crossed over his chest.
The Kanto shinigami looked at each other.
"Kiyoshi-kun makes jewelry, and Haruki-san's always taking people out on dates," Umeko counted off on her fingers. "Watari-kun's been saving up for something, and I think Jiro-san likes model ships."
"And Saya-chan and Yuma-chan like clothes almost as much as you. It's anything we like to do in our spare time, really," Keiji added, nodding. "It can take a while to get your budgeting ironed out though, so don't spend too much at the beginning of the month."
"Some people never get it," his partner threw in, grinning. "Tsuzuki-san's always bumming meals by the last week before we get paid."
"Given the amount of pastries and sweets he eats, I'm not surprised," the young man quipped, then explained, "Tsuzuki-san's out on a case right now," the young man explained. "He works out in Kyushuu; it's usually pretty slow, so I'm sure you'll meet him soon."
The youngest of them nodded, then asked straightened suddenly, remembering he had an errand to run. "Hey, what time is it?"
"Getting towards eight, probably," Keiji answered with a glance out the window.
Umeko rolled her eyes and checked a slim watch on her wrist. "Seven forty-nine," she confirmed.
"I'm under orders to get an alarm clock before I turn in tonight," Terazuma said in thinly concealed annoyance. "So I need to get going."
"You should just take ours," the female shinigami snorted. "Besides knowing what time it is by looking at the shadows, Keiji's up with the sun everyday. I haven't been late once since I partnered with him."
"Best record in the department." Keiji grinned unrepentantly. "You can have the clock if you'd like, Terazuma-kun."
"Thanks but no thanks," was the prompt reply. "I'll manage myself."
They settled the bill quickly, then Terazuma bid the two good night and headed off. The alarm clock he managed fairly quickly, but finding the way back to his apartment took the better part of an hour. Once there, he spent a frustrating twenty minutes figuring out poorly written instructions on how to get the clock set, then slouched up the stairs to sit on the roof and think some more.
So this is it. You die, and then you get stuck in a crap desk job. Wonder why no one's ever thought of that before. He sighed, closing his eyes and feeling the caress of a light breeze through his hair. I guess we don't get a choice about it, he thought moodily, staring out over the array of street lamps and lights still on in buildings. Unless it's during the tests no one remembers anyway.
Frown tugging at his lips, he drew out a cigarette and his lighter, sitting in the minutes that followed at the center of the grey haze like a rather irritable dragon liable to snap at stray birds. As it burned slowly towards his fingers, he looked down at the streets below, seeing in the place of flat cement the deep black of rolling water.
What was she thinking, anyway? What's the point in dying? That's the last way to get things done.
Martyring is such bullshit.
Scowling to himself, he ground out his cigarette in a bitter tumble of glowing ash before it could scorch his knuckles, then stoodd up and reached within to the trigger for power.
As before, it swept over him; he clenched his jaw stubbornly and clawed back at it, pulling it under his control.
Now... Up. I want to go up. He felt the force surround him, but too weakly, thin strands of power lifting him. "Up, I said," he repeated aloud, forcefully, an emphasis that seemed to have little effect on anything save his temper. In the end, he had to be satisfied with a slightly steadier few inches lift than he'd attained back in the garden.
He went to bed and dreamed of koi fish flying in a sky as black as the sea.
I keep having to smack Seiko back into his role as emotionally unapproachable and with all the sense of humor of a stale radish. He's trying--I think he's trying to be Tatsumi. BAD stick in the mud, bad! You get your character development side story later!
As the hints dropped would imply, yes, I made up shinigami for all ten departments who don't have some for this time period canonically. I don't know how many of them will show up yet, but we'll see.
Next chapter: I'm not entirely sure yet. Probably Terazuma's power awakening, possibly while out on a case--if so, expect Watari.