[Private] An Encounter of the Third Kind, the Intern meets Crystal

The young redhead let out a slow sigh as he grabbed another stack of files and records to place before him. While the point of an internship was to gain a better understanding of the inner workings of the Divisions so that new recruits could be properly placed whether through recommendation or personal request, they still were stuck with a lot of the tedious labor. Janitorial work, beverage runs, and getting bitched at by superior officers for no reason were things they dealt with rather frequently. This time Inari was tasked with sorting of files. Even with some of the crazy technology that Seireitei had at is disposal, a lot of the recorded information was in fact physical. Whenever a Shinigami needed to research for a mission or assignment, they had to come here to the Archive. Once finished, it was up to the low totem pole individuals to sort everything by a strange mixture of alphabetical, chronological, and level of clearance. Needless to say his eyes were starting to cross and he was only a quarter through his assignment.

"Why can't I just swing a sword and fight hollow like other Shinigami..." he muttered to himself quietly. Logically he knew that was probably what he shouldn't be asking for. Active combat was how personnel became injured and a big reason as to why Shinigami didn't necessarily have the longest life expectancies. He even knew that he very much was in the classification of a "Red Shirt." Simply fodder. He couldn't even communicate with his zanpakuto spirit. Those masked beasts very well could be life threatening to someone like himself. But currently, this paperwork felt just as dangerous. It truly was giving him a headache.

Picking up a file, his eyes scanned lazily over it. Judging by the basic descriptors, it was a file on an active Hollow that was shaped like a frog. Innately he wondered what was so dangerous about that. While he knew he shouldn't actually look into these papers he was sorting, he couldn't help but peak a little. His fingers nimbly unwound the string holding it closed and he scanned through the first few pages. It talked about abilities: enhanced leg strength for jumping, poisonous skin that could corrode even metal, and a tongue that was just as sharp as it was sticky. But the second page was actual photographs of the aftermath it could cause. It instantly surged a wave of nausea through the boy, shifting his normally warm-toned face into one of pale green. Gore and bloodshed was not quite something he had built a tolerance for... And that's why he shut that file just as fast as he opened it. "Yup...not doing that again."

Now with a stomach that felt a little on the queasy side, Inari returned to his assignment with a strange renewed source of vigor. He wanted to get through this sorting and organization process as quick as possible. With everything placed into stacks, he was able to hoist a collection up and carry it off to its proper location. Before he could do so, a voice made him jump slightly. Spinning around, he’d see a blue-haired woman with a slightly concerned look spread across her face. “Heh, yeah. Just didn’t expect to see that of all things. Guess I should have listened to my superiors advice and not look. You’re not…going to tell anyone, right?” With his low position amongst the Shinigami ranks he didn’t want anyone to think ill of him. That being said, this probably wasn’t a good first impression either.

Pleasant feelings or not, the woman still nevertheless introduced herself. All of her names. “I’m Himura Inari. Pleasure to meet you Ishigawa Hana,” replied the boy with a polite bowing of his head. Crystal was an interesting nickname. Silently, he wondered what the origin of it was. The comment on his hair made him chuckle lightly. “Thanks. I grew it myself? The Himura’s tend to have warm hair colors. At least that was what they told me. I only could remember my Dad being bald.” With a slight shrugging of his shoulders and a playful laugh, he glanced down at the files. Part of him wanted to ask if she would help him sort or at least tell him where each category was placed but he held back those questions. He didn’t want to create any more negative connotations or showcase that he had the occasional lazy trait. Even still, Hana seemed to be from the 4th Division. She probably could answer anything that he asked.

“I haven’t been able to hear the name of my zanpakuto yet. Still, she’s beautiful. She’s a golden-furred fox bout the size of a horse. Very snarky, but I love that about her. I just hope I’m worthy enough to hear her name soon. I’d love to graduate from being a runt that can’t activate his shikai. if you don't mind me asking, how long did it take you to achieve hearing yours, Hana?”

Inari felt just the slightest bit of relief. Thankfully this woman wasn’t a tattle-tale and would keep his minor infraction a secret. Just like she stated, he already was punished just by peaking into those very files. It was a mistake he would never want to do again. And if he had a chance to avoid peering into them again, he’d do so without question. He supposed it was better to find out that he was squeamish now than figuring out later. It even ruled out a future career as a medic. Guess that was one less Division he would need to shadow in. Maybe even two if he counted this one? Not having to look at files would be a lot easier if he wasn’t assigned to look at them on a daily basis after all.

“I haven’t been in Soul Society for long. I only died about four years ago. Was lucky enough to get referred to join the Academy shortly after I arrived here. The human world is still relatively fresh in my mind because of it. I’ll admit I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. There’s just this temptation to be able to see friends and family if I ever get assigned to Karakura or Naruki. My father is even spiritually aware so I could actually talk to him if I really wanted to. Probably against policy though.” A soft sigh escaped his lips as he peered up towards the ceiling as if fighting back the urge to cry. He was only fifteen when he was attacked and killed by a Hollow. He was blind-sighted. He was walking down the city street and suddenly he was in the Rukongai. It was a pretty traumatic experience he had to admit.

Shaking his head and using a finger to wipe away any tears that may had managed to escape his eyes, the intern shifted his mood to a more pleasant one. No need to linger on the sad past. “Well that’s encouraging. I’ve only been training for four years so if I’m anything like you Hana, I should be able to hear my zanpakuto’s name soon enough. I’m really looking forward to it.” The spirit in the back of his mind just looked at him with her typical sly grin spread across her muzzle as if confirming that very statement. Her tails flickered with excitement and each tip seemed to burn with a greenish-blue flame that possibly hinted just what kind of abilities his sword could possess. He’d find out one of these days and he knew it’d be sooner than later.