Morning in Chiyoda ward: the PSIA Kanto Branch headquarters loomed as a nondescript, modern office block in a district of government buildings. By 0900 hours, employees streamed in through glass doors, badges flashing at turnstiles, shoes clacking on polished floors. Security checkpoints hummed as guards in dark suits watched vigilantly. On the surface, it was any other busy weekday at Japan's premier intelligence agency. Inside, however, a quiet war was about to be waged.
A black sedan pulled up to the curb outside the front plaza. From the driver's side emerged Kishibe, looking every bit the no-nonsense instructor in a tailored but slightly rumpled suit, a PSIA lapel pin glinting on his collar. He circled around and opened the passenger door with a mock flourish. "End of the line, kid. Showtime," he muttered under his breath.
Out stepped Hiroshi, tugging once at the hem of his suit jacket and smoothing an earnest (if a touch nervous) smile onto his face. In the morning sun, his silver-white hair and youthful features caught a few glances from passersby. He certainly didn't resemble the typical somber bureaucrat. That was exactly the point. Slinging a slim briefcase over his shoulder, Hiroshi took a breath and strode toward the entrance, Kishibe following a respectful two steps behind as though escorting a dignitary. At Hiroshi's heel trotted Kirlia Akemi, drawing more than a few stares of curiosity. The petite Psychic-type with her green bobbed head and flowing tutu-like dress looked like a performer's Pokémon, not something one expected to see in a spy agency lobby. A couple of junior agents nudged each other and whispered, but no one dared question it openly – not when the young man in front of the Kirlia was displaying an Assistant Director's badge on a lanyard.
Inside the lobby, the air was cool and smelled of fresh coffee. Marble floors and tasteful, minimalist decor projected an image of calm efficiency. Beneath that veneer, Hiroshi could feel the currents of tension – or maybe that was Kirlia's empathic sense bleeding into him. Ahead, two uniformed security officers manned a scanning station. They straightened when they saw Kishibe and Hiroshi approach.
"Assistant Director Kobayashi?" One guard, a square-jawed man with graying hair, addressed Hiroshi politely, checking the badge credentials that had popped up on his console. He kept his expression neutral, but Hiroshi did not miss the slight widening of the man's eyes as he took in the age of the new AD. Clearly, word of his appointment had not spread to every rank yet – or if it had, many likely assumed it a joke.
Hiroshi summoned a perfect mix of bashfulness and authority. "Yes, that's me," he replied, voice calm but a touch deferential. "Good morning. I apologize, I'm still learning the ropes here." He gave a slight, polite bow – just enough to play the respectful junior, but not so low as to seem lacking confidence.
The guard seemed to relax a hair at Hiroshi's courteous tone. He even offered a small smile. "Welcome to Headquarters, sir. We… weren't expecting you at the main entrance. Director Takeda mentioned you might start later in the week." The man's eyes flicked to Akemi at Hiroshi's side. The Kirlia blinked innocently up at him. "And… is this Pokémon registered, sir?"
"Oh! Sorry." Hiroshi gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "This is Akemi – my Kirlia. She's harmless. To be honest, I wasn't sure about protocol, but… she hates staying in her ball." He leaned in with a conspiring grin. "Between you and me, my uncle said I could bring her along to keep me company. I promise she won't be a distraction." There it was – a subtle name-drop of some nebulous patron. In truth, Makima had crafted Hiroshi's fake nepotism backstory around a fictitious uncle in the Cabinet Secretariat. It was amazing how far a hint of "family connection" went in smoothing bureaucratic wrinkles.
The guard chuckled softly and held up a scanner wand. "Understood, sir. I'll just run a quick scan for security purposes." He passed the wand over Kirlia, whose big red eyes followed it curiously. The handheld device beeped green – detecting no dangerous weapons or anomalous energy beyond the baseline psychic emanations one might expect from that species. If only it knew the potency of those emanations. "All clear. Enjoy your day, Assistant Director." The guard motioned them through. As Hiroshi walked on, he overheard the second guard whisper under his breath, "Damn, they're getting younger every year…" followed by a low chuckle. Hiroshi kept his face pleasantly blank, but inwardly he felt a stab of satisfaction. Let them underestimate him – the groundwork was laid.
Once past security, he entered the central atrium of HQ. Overhead, an open skylight flooded the space with natural light. Balconies of four floors of offices ringed the atrium, and glass-walled conference rooms bustled with activity. Phones rang, printers whirred, heels clicked. Just another Monday in the intelligence world. Hiroshi walked slowly, taking it all in with a mixture of awe and timidness that he played up for any onlookers. Kirlia Akemi trotted at his side, emitting a soft telepathic pulse that only he could sense – a sort of gentle background hum that he recognized as curiosity tinged with nervousness. It mirrored his own feelings, and possibly those of honest staff around them. So far, nothing unusual.
Kishibe peeled off with a nod, mumbling about "reporting to the training division." That was the plan – they wouldn't stick together inside. Hiroshi was on his own for the moment, heading for the elevators that would take him to the executive floor where his new office and immediate staff awaited. As he crossed the atrium, he spotted Himeno by the coffee kiosk, stirring sugar into a paper cup. She caught his eye briefly and gave the subtlest tilt of her head – all okay. Already dressed as an office lady with a knee-length skirt and her signature eyepatch, Himeno looked like she belonged. She was engaged in cheerful small talk with a bespectacled man from Accounting, who was gesturing animatedly about something. Himeno's laughter drifted over, light and disarming. If one didn't know better, you'd think she was just a friendly new colleague making friends. Only a slight crinkle in her brow as she glanced at a passing figure hinted she was also probing. Hiroshi didn't linger; he had to maintain his own role. Still, the sight comforted him – the team was slipping into place.