Erg. My computer died on me and I have been fretting and lazy and writers-blocked and all sorts of weird things that has kept me from uploading the next chapter. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten the whole thing planned out yet, so there are kinks and things to sort out and whatnot. The LAST time I finished this chapter, the computer I was typing it on didn't save it, and then froze, so I lost a good deal of work. I might redo this chapter a few times, so watch out for that. Sigh Thanks for reading this
Chapter 3- A Chance Meeting
After an afternoon of confusion, the problem of Watari's missing memory had been confirmed. Tatsumi had called in an expert from the Judgment Bureau's Medical Department, and discovered, with much dismay, that Watari was indeed suffering from partial amnesia. The only thing Watari seemed to remember was his interest in potion-brewing, his name, age, deathday and birthday, and several random members of the staff, including Konoe, Terazuma, the Count, and only one of the Gushoshin brothers.
His mood, on the other hand, was quite as it had been before the accident. When left alone, he bustled around his lab, exploding things, researching, and, as the older of the two bird Librarians was quick to point out, ate while reading, leaving crumbs between the pages of the precious books.
The next day Konoe called Tatsumi into his office. The boss's usually wrinkled face was now distorted further than usual with worry.
"Tatsumi," he began, placing his forehead onto the palm of his hand.
"Sir." Tatsumi replied respectfully, sitting perfectly straight in his seat, like a soldier in the line of duty. Not that Japan had had a military for decades.
"This situation regarding Yutaka Watari is very unstable."
Tatsumi was confused. "Unstable, sir?"
" I took this to the board yesterday." Konoe sat up a little, clasping his hands together in front of him. He looked Tatsumi in the eye, his expression quite serious. "They're very concerned. I am not sure if you know this, the academy never had any reason to tell you, but Shinigami do not regularly lose their memory. In fact, the last recorded incident was a millennia ago, and the reason for even that was obscure. We do know this however; only a power as great as to compete with Enma's is said to have caused it."
Tatsumi's hands tightened on his chair " you mean…?"
Konoe sighed, and nodded. "Watari's condition has lasted longer than 12 hours. We don't yet know why, but we believe there may be something very dangerous after him."
Tatsumi was speechless.
" Which means, I want you and your colleagues to watch over him. I'm not sure what you can do, but you will at last be able to keep him out of trouble. I didn't call you all in at once because I didn't want to alert him; as I am under explicit orders not to do so. I trust you Tatsumi. I will let you know when I have more information. This may just be a prank, but I don't want to take any chances."
"Yes sir," Tatsumi replied, and left the room silently, engrossed in thought.
Despite this, Tatsumi ordered him to be watched at all times, much to the annoyance of the scientist, who, although the order was to be kept a secret from him, could feel them following him wherever he went.
He fixed the computer for Tatsumi without question, though he had now gotten the impression that Tatsumi, Tsuzuki, and Hisoka were new recruits. He had smiled courteously and informed Tatsumi that if he needed help with anything, his lab was right around the corner. He had also taken to mentioning random tidbits of common information about the building, like which button on the coffee machine was broken. Tatsumi was quite aware of this, as he frequented the machine the most out of the entire staff, so it irked him a little that he was being told what he already knew. He only hoped that Watari's memory would return quickly. If not, he was sure to go mad.
After about a week of no odd behavior, he noticed the urgency of their task waning. Keeping an eye on Watari was easy enough, but the paperwork slowed considerably, and a growing pile of unfinished work was creeping slowly upon them. Tatsumi assured himself that if something were to happen to him, it would be obvious, as the team were in the same building. Watari would be safe.
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If he was quick, he could slip out unnoticed. He tiptoed to the end of the hall, an empty coffee mug in his hand– the excuse for being out of this office– and peeked around the corner. Tsuzuki: snoozing at his desk, check. Bon: seated with his back turned to the door and hard at work, check. Tatsumi: . . . in Konoe's office discussing a report, check.
The members of the Judgment Bureau had been keeping a well-trained eye on him since his accident, and it was starting to get on Watari's nerves. There was always someone with him, watching with that odd look on their faces, as if he would hurt himself if they let their gazes leave him for even a second. He had to admit, it was odd, being watched by new employees, but they had relented over the past few days, and he could finally get some work done. Apparently he had shown ample signs of health, and no longer needed babysitting.
His chance for escape was eminent. Suddenly, Tatsumi looked up from the desk and looked straight into Watari's eyes. Uh-oh.
He held up his mug, pointing at it and smiling. I need some coffee, he mouthed to Tatsumi through the glass. Tatsumi nodded with a roll of his eyes and refocused on his report. Watari flitted onto the break room and leaned against the wall, a hand clutched over his rapidly beating heart. "That was close!" he breathed.
He moved to the coffee machine, well used and still hot, and filled his cup. Looking furtively around him, he walked calmly out from the room, turning right down the hallway, the exact opposite direction of his office. Holding his breath, he snuck like a fox to the door, which was open, thankfully, (Hisoka had complained about needing air) and slid out.
Watari hummed as he made his way down the street to the utility store. It was a magical place, that store. It had everything from computer parts to lab equipment to those tiny little candy biscuits that 003 loved to nibble on. Practically everything a mad scientist/technician would ever need or want. He had saved his pay for about a month and there was one item in particular that he had in mind; one that would help him in his next experiment. He could use a decent beaker as well. He strolled into the store, nodding at the cashier who grinned widely at him, and made his way to the back of the store.
The item in question, a long, cylindrical item with gadgets at the end–with a practically unpronounceable name that was even harder to spell– was located on the second to last shelf, in three different colors, two of which had adjustable speeds. Watari chose the smaller of the two with adjustable speeds, briefly debating on whether to take his original orange color or try the blue, and walked towards the beakers with a new blue appendage under his arm.
As Watari crossed under the giant hanging sign labeled, "Labwares," he headed towards the mini-beakers, which would work better with his potion measurements than a proper sized one.
But lo and behold! The beakers were cleaned out. Watari clucked his tongue. Trust this place to have every trinket imaginable and then be short on beakers . . . Just to be sure, he peeked in back and ... Aha! One lone, little beaker, nearly on the other side of the shelf stood waiting for him. He reached out a hand for it, but another hand closed around it.
He glared up at its owner and met eyes with another man. Or rather, met eye, for the man's right eye was covered almost entirely with soft strands of silver hair.
Watari was distracted for only a second by the man's beauty. He had, after all, cheated him out of the last piece of equipment.
"Excuse me," he said through the space between shelves.
"Yes?" his voice was strangely melodic, but with a cold note to it.
"I was going to buy that," he said.
"Really?" Muraki replied quizzically. "It seems to me that, since I have a hold of it, I will be the one to purchase this."
Watari frowned. "It seems to me, sir, that it just so happens to be on my side of the shelf, so I should be the one to buy it." The man raised an eyebrow as Watari stared defiantly through the shelf at him.
The man smiled. "It seems you are right. "He moved his hand from the beaker. Watari glanced at the man before snatching it up and walking towards the cashier's end of the store. Weirdo…
He checked out with a smile. His wallet was considerably lighter, but at least he was one step closer to completing his experiment. Make that two, with the new beaker snug in the bag he carried out the door. The sunshine outside made it all the better. He breathed it in, sighing in happiness. It wasn't so bad being dead.
Kazutaka Muraki was not dumb. He had been a schemer from birth, a doctor by profession, and had a murderous hobby in which he had never been caught. So when he found himself at the behest of this peculiar blonde persona, he was not a little shaken. He watched the man walk away, some inkling of something tugging at his mind.
What was it? After a few silent moments of thought, a fuzzy mage resurfaced in the doctor's mind. A certain kite-like contraption meant to track him, with bulging eyes and wings, horribly matched colors and an obtrusive nose. He had met this man before.
An idea was forming in the doctor's head, growing more and more sinister every second it was left to spawn; he could use this man, perhaps. For he was connected to Tsuzuki, of that he was sure. Another Shinigami? The thought excited him, and he smiled wickedly. The smile plastered his face like some twisted work of art as he walked out of the store, chuckling softly as the door clanged open and then shut again behind him.