A couple of days had passed since the Calendar Devil incident, and the rhythm of patrol had settled into something almost routine. Mornings started with coffee from a vending machine followed by long walks through Tokyo's quieter districts—Shinjuku backstreets, the edges of Shibuya, occasional loops around Ueno. I kept my eyes open, katana at my hip, uniform sleeves rolled up. Devils stayed quiet. A few low-grade sightings—mostly fear-born vermin that scattered when I approached—but nothing worth drawing the blade for. I reported them anyway, short radio calls once they issued me the handheld. Public Safety appreciated the paperwork, even if the kills were small.
The apartment in Nakano had started to feel less like a borrowed box and more like a home. I'd conjured a few small comforts: a better pillow a cheap electric kettle, even a small shelf for books I'd bought with real yen from a secondhand store. Nothing extravagant. Just enough to make the space mine. Nights were quiet. I practiced Projection Sorcery in the tiny living area—tracing simple sequences, refining frame precision. Construction stayed basic: knives, bandages, spare change. No point wasting energy on flashy stuff yet.
Then the call came.
Early afternoon, sun slanting through the blinds. My radio crackled.
"Naoya Zenin. Report to headquarters. Division assignment finalized. Proceed to Makima's office upon arrival."
The voice was clipped, professional. No details. Just the summons.
I exhaled slowly, sheathing the practice kunai I'd been spinning between my fingers.
I left the apartment, locked the door, and walked. No taxi today—wanted the time to think. The streets were busy but calm: schoolkids laughing, salarymen smoking in clusters, the distant rumble of trains. I kept my pace steady, letting a light layer of Projection Sorcery smooth my steps so I moved with that uncanny grace people had started noticing. A few glances followed the guy in the Public Safety uniform.
The headquarters building rose ahead, same concrete monolith. Guards nodded as I passed. Inside, the lobby smelled faintly of coffee and printer ink.
"Naoya Zenin," she said before I could speak. "They're expecting you. Go straight to Makima's office, third floor. Elevator's that way."
"Thanks." I gave her a small nod and headed for the elevators.
The ride up was silent except for the soft ding of floors. My reflection in the metal doors looked sharper than I remembered—blonde hair neatly parted, brown eyes calm, tie straight. Eighteen years old in this body, but the face carried an older edge. Naoya's arrogance had softened around the corners since I'd taken over. I liked it better this way.
Third floor. Corridor lined with closed doors, nameplates, faint murmur of voices behind them. Makima's office was at the end—larger door, polished wood, nameplate simple: **Makima **
I knocked twice.
"Come in," her voice answered, smooth and warm.
I pushed the door open.
I noticed Four people inside.
Makima sat behind her desk, red hair loose today, yellow eyes lifting to meet mine with that same gentle, unreadable smile. She wore the black coat over her shoulders like always. The other three stood in a loose semicircle in front of her desk.
First, the girl on the left—short, dark hair cut unevenly, wide eyes that darted nervously even when she tried to stand still. Hands clasped tight in front of her, knuckles white. She looked like she might bolt if someone spoke too loud.
Next to her, another woman—taller, black hair eyepatch over her right eye, cigarette dangling unlit from her lips. She leaned against the wall with casual ease, arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on her mouth.
Then the young man—tall, dark hair tied back in a topknot, expression serious bordering on severe. Hands in his pockets, posture straight.
Last, the older man—graying hair, stubble, cigarette actually lit, smoke curling lazily. He stood with the relaxed slouch of someone who'd seen everything twice and wasn't impressed by any of it. Scar across one cheek, eyes half-lidded but sharp underneath.
Makima spoke first.
"Naoya. Right on time. Please, come in and close the door."
I did, stepping fully inside. The room smelled faintly of tobacco and something floral—her perfume, maybe. I gave a small nod to the group.
"Everyone, this is Naoya Zenin," Makima continued, gesturing gracefully. "He's been assigned to Division 4. his performance on patrol has been… promising."
She turned that smile on me.
"Let me introduce your new teammates."
She indicated the nervous girl first.
"Kobeni Higashiyama."
Kobeni flinched slightly at her own name, then managed a shaky bow. "H-Hello… nice to meet you…"
Her voice was small, almost swallowed by the room.
Makima moved on.
"Himeno."
The eyepatch woman pushed off the wall, giving me a lazy two-finger salute. "Yo. Heard you took down the Calendar Devil solo. Not bad for a newbie." She grinned around the cigarette. "Call me Himeno. We'll get along fine as long as you don't die on your first week."
I returned the grin—small, easy. "I'll try not to."
Next, the serious guy.
"Aki Hayakawa."
Aki gave a curt nod. "Hayakawa. Welcome to Division 4." His tone was flat, professional. No warmth, but no hostility either. Just business.
Finally, the older man exhaled smoke toward the ceiling.
"Kishibe. Captain of this circus."
He looked me up and down—slow, appraising. "You're the one with the two devil contracts nobody's heard of. Speed and creation, right?"
"That's the gist," I answered evenly.
He snorted. "We'll see how long those contracts last. Most rookies don't."
Makima folded her hands on the desk.
"Naoya will be partnered with Kobeni for the time being. She's been in Division 4 for a few months—experienced enough to show you the ropes, but still learning. You'll balance each other."
Kobeni's eyes widened. "M-Me? With him?"
Makima's smile didn't waver. "Yes, Kobeni. You'll do fine."
Kobeni looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. I felt a pang of sympathy. She reminded me of… my sister in my old life. Scared, out of place, trying not to screw up. I miss her.😢
I turned to her, softening my voice. "Looking forward to working with you, Kobeni. I'll follow your lead."
She blinked rapidly. "R-Really? I… um… okay. I'll… try not to mess up…"
Himeno laughed, short and warm. "See? You're already scaring the poor girl less than usual. Progress."
Aki exhaled through his nose. "Partners are assigned for a reason. Don't waste it."
Kishibe stubbed out his cigarette in a glass ashtray on Makima's desk. "Rules are simple, kid. Don't die. Don't get civilians killed. Don't make me do extra paperwork. Everything else is negotiable."
Makima stood, coat settling around her shoulders.
"That's all for now. You'll receive patrol schedules and joint assignments starting tomorrow. Kobeni, show Naoya the armory and the break room downstairs. The rest of you—back to your duties."
She looked at me last, eyes lingering just a second longer.
"Welcome to Division 4, Naoya. I'm sure you'll fit right in."
The words felt like velvet wrapped around steel.
I nodded. "Thank you."
The others filed out. I waited for Kobeni.
She hesitated at the door, then gestured timidly. "This… this way."
We walked the corridor together. Silence stretched awkward at first. I broke it gently.
"So… how long have you been with Public Safety?"
Kobeni jumped slightly. "Um… about seven months? I… I joined right after high school. My family… they needed money, so…"
She trailed off, staring at the floor.
I nodded. "I get it. Money's a good reason."
She glanced up, surprised I didn't judge. "Y-Yeah… Most people think it's stupid. But… yeah."
"Not stupid," I said. "Practical. This job pays, right?"
She gave a tiny nod. "It does. But it's… scary."
"Everything's scary at first," I replied. "Gets easier."
She looked at me like she wasn't sure whether to believe that.
We reached the elevator. Down to the second floor—armory and support areas.
The armory was a long room lined with lockers, weapon racks, and a counter manned by a bored technician. Kobeni showed me my locker—already labeled **Zenin, N.** Inside: basic kit. Extra ammo (even though I didn't need it), bandages, flashlight, spare radio battery. I added my conjured katana to the rack for formality.
"Most people use guns," Kobeni said quietly. "But… swords are allowed. Kishibe uses one sometimes."
"Good to know."
Next, the break room—small, with vending machines, a battered couch, coffee maker, and a table covered in old case files someone had forgotten to put away.
Himeno was already there, boots up on the table, new cigarette lit.
"Hey, new couple," she called. "Coffee's fresh. Grab some before Aki drinks it all."
Aki was at the counter, pouring a mug. He didn't react to the jab.
I got two cups—one black for me, one with cream and sugar for Kobeni after she mumbled a preference. We sat at the table.
Himeno leaned forward. "So, Naoya. Where'd you really come from? That accent's weird. Not quite foreign, not quite local."
"Long story," I said with a half-smile. "Moved around a lot. Picked up habits."
She raised an eyebrow. "Cryptic. I like it."
Aki sat across from us. "Your contracts. Speed and creation. How do they work?"
I kept it vague but honest enough. "Speed lets me predict and plan every step. Creation… I make things. Simple stuff mostly. Weapons, tools. Costs lifespan the more complicated it gets."
Aki nodded slowly. "Useful. But don't rely on it too much. Devils adapt."
"Noted."
Kobeni sipped her coffee, hands wrapped around the cup like it was a lifeline. "I… I have a contract too. With a Devil. But I… It's a secret"
I looked at her. "You don't have to explain if you don't want to."
I understood that more than I could say. "Then use it when you have to."
She gave me a small, grateful look.
Himeno chuckled. "Look at you two. Already bonding. Careful, Kobeni might start liking you."
Kobeni flushed bright red. "T-That's not—!"
Aki cut in. "Ignore her. She teases everyone."
The door opened. Kishibe stepped in, fresh cigarette already lit.
"Break time's over in ten. Zenin—tomorrow you and Kobeni are on joint patrol. Central Shibuya, afternoon shift. Low-threat zone. Good chance to sync up."
I nodded. "Understood."
He looked at Kobeni. "Don't let him die, kid. Or I'll make you do my paperwork."
Kobeni squeaked.
Kishibe snorted, then left.
The room settled again.
Himeno stretched. "Well, I'm off to bother some higher-ups. See you babies tomorrow."
She ruffled Kobeni's hair on the way out—Kobeni flinched but didn't pull away.
Aki finished his coffee, stood. "I have reports to finish. If you need anything—training, advice—ask."
"Thanks, Hayakawa."
He left quietly.
Just me and Kobeni.
She fidgeted. "Um… do you… want to see the rooftop? It's quiet. Sometimes I go there when… when it's too much."
I smiled—gently "Yeah. I'd like that."
We took the stairs up. Rooftop was fenced, gravel underfoot, view of Tokyo spreading out—towers, trains, endless lights starting to flicker on as afternoon bled into evening.
Kobeni leaned on the railing, staring out.
"I… I'm glad you're my partner," she said suddenly. "You seem… nice. Most people here are… intense."
I leaned beside her. "You're nice too. And you've survived this long. That means you're tougher than you think."
She looked at me, eyes wide. "You really think so?"
"I know so."
A small smile—first real one I'd seen from her.
We stood there a while, city noise distant below.
No devils. No blood. Just two people figuring out how to survive together.
It felt… good.
Division 4 was a mess of personalities—nervous, teasing, stoic, jaded—but it was mine now.
And for the first time since the truck, I didn't feel completely alone.
Tomorrow, patrol with Kobeni.
I'd make sure we both came back.