Post by Hazuki Tsukimiya on Feb 29, 2016 3:13:36 GMT -5
The First Division was bustling with activity, and it made a very welcome change given how Hazuki had left it some weeks ago. No longer was it a crypt filled with aimless Shinigami milling about without leadership, dismantling all that distinguished the division—the First had risen again under Commander Fujikagi’s leadership and it reminded Hazuki a lot more of the division she had joined out of the Academy. Her promotion to Fourth Seat had been two Captain-Commanders ago, she realized, and she wondered who would be next in line. There had, to her knowledge, not been a successor appointed just yet, but Hazuki had an inkling of who it would be.
She was here on semi-official business, having dropped off a few sensitive documents for the Captain-Commander and his staff—some from Shun, some from Hazuki herself, and she found herself feeling a little like a stranger, despite a number of half-familiar faces dotting the hallways. She had never really bonded with her subordinates, and there had been altogether too few fellow officers that caught her interest in Kenshou Ine’s First. The Fourth, though introverted and asocial, had seen Hazuki integrate far better than she had done as an officer of the First. People came to her for advice and guidance, and she had an excellent working relationship with her captain. They made quite the team, and it was remarkable how they saw eye-to-eye on most things.
Hazuki was part of the rise of the new Fourth, just as she had been part of the fall of the old First, but it was with some satisfaction she noted that the Fourth was rising due in no small part to her own actions. There was something about the Fourth that scratched an itch of Hazuki’s; what it was she couldn’t quite say, but it wasn’t the research. Hazuki was no researcher. She had good ideas from time to time, but solving the mysteries of the universe was work poor suited to her speciality. In a way, she supposed, the problems she solved were anchored to the here and now.
She was a practical woman with a good head for making things work and weeding out weakness. She was good at making sure the Fourth’s assets were put to best use—and at making sure that they only kept the ones that could be trusted around. Hazuki liked labels, they fit in well with her view of the world. Labeling herself was easy: she was an officer, a vital part of command, and she did her job excellently.
Lunch hadn’t been long ago, and there was a certain subdued drowsiness to the Shinigami she passed in the hallways, the normal lull at the start of the early afternoon. The relief of half the work day having passed, a full stomach, the home stretch before they could go relax in their quarters—it was something found in every division and Hazuki couldn’t blame them. Had she been bound by sleep in the same way they were, she would no doubt follow a similar pattern, but her own inability to drift off gave new meaning to the phrase sleepless vigilance.
She was heading for the exit when she caught a glimpse of someone she knew she recognized, and her face lit up in one of the genuine smiles that so rarely graced her countenance. The last time she had met this girl, Hazuki had been grumpier than usual—if such a thing were possible, but then the intensity of that headache had defied all reason—and on her way elsewhere. Now, however, she was free of both headache and immediate commitments.
‘Rania!’ she called out to the raven-haired woman as she approached. ‘Looks like you found yourself a division after all.’
°628
She was here on semi-official business, having dropped off a few sensitive documents for the Captain-Commander and his staff—some from Shun, some from Hazuki herself, and she found herself feeling a little like a stranger, despite a number of half-familiar faces dotting the hallways. She had never really bonded with her subordinates, and there had been altogether too few fellow officers that caught her interest in Kenshou Ine’s First. The Fourth, though introverted and asocial, had seen Hazuki integrate far better than she had done as an officer of the First. People came to her for advice and guidance, and she had an excellent working relationship with her captain. They made quite the team, and it was remarkable how they saw eye-to-eye on most things.
Hazuki was part of the rise of the new Fourth, just as she had been part of the fall of the old First, but it was with some satisfaction she noted that the Fourth was rising due in no small part to her own actions. There was something about the Fourth that scratched an itch of Hazuki’s; what it was she couldn’t quite say, but it wasn’t the research. Hazuki was no researcher. She had good ideas from time to time, but solving the mysteries of the universe was work poor suited to her speciality. In a way, she supposed, the problems she solved were anchored to the here and now.
She was a practical woman with a good head for making things work and weeding out weakness. She was good at making sure the Fourth’s assets were put to best use—and at making sure that they only kept the ones that could be trusted around. Hazuki liked labels, they fit in well with her view of the world. Labeling herself was easy: she was an officer, a vital part of command, and she did her job excellently.
Lunch hadn’t been long ago, and there was a certain subdued drowsiness to the Shinigami she passed in the hallways, the normal lull at the start of the early afternoon. The relief of half the work day having passed, a full stomach, the home stretch before they could go relax in their quarters—it was something found in every division and Hazuki couldn’t blame them. Had she been bound by sleep in the same way they were, she would no doubt follow a similar pattern, but her own inability to drift off gave new meaning to the phrase sleepless vigilance.
She was heading for the exit when she caught a glimpse of someone she knew she recognized, and her face lit up in one of the genuine smiles that so rarely graced her countenance. The last time she had met this girl, Hazuki had been grumpier than usual—if such a thing were possible, but then the intensity of that headache had defied all reason—and on her way elsewhere. Now, however, she was free of both headache and immediate commitments.
‘Rania!’ she called out to the raven-haired woman as she approached. ‘Looks like you found yourself a division after all.’
°628