"Hahaha..." Gojo let out a strained laugh. He looked up, covering his eyes with his fingers.
Dan sat in front of him, his arms resting on the rough plastic of the table. His eyes were closed behind his glasses. A few strands of wine‑colored hair fell from his head. Gojo Satoru. You truly are a mystery. No records. No traces. Even checking with RACOPA and FENGHUANG didn't yield anything. Tell me, are you involved? Involved in this string of disappearances?
Dan opened his eyes, looking at Gojo's white hair bouncing off the light of the LEDs. "Gojo, say. Are you dangerous? In your view, are you a threat?"
Gojo inclined his head, his hair falling onto his face. Sunglasses tilted down, the corners of his eyes red. "Dangerous. Yes. I am. After all, being called The Strongest, if I'm not dangerous, then I'm not The Strongest."
Dan put a chin on his arm, his smile turning into a smirk. "Gojo. You do not have a place in this world. You are unstable. You are a variable, to this city, and to this country. If your claims of being The Strongest are true, then prove it."
Gojo tilted his head, this time sporting a small smile. "Prove what? So you people can classify me and restrain me? Don't give me that crap."
Dan shook his head, his hair swaying. "No. Gojo, this is a hypothesis. If you truly are a ghost, a void, then by imprinting yourself into this world, let's say, by subjugating a Noise, then theoretically, the world must acknowledge you."
Gojo laughed, jagged, almost hysterical. He stood up, walking towards Dan, his smile gone. "You think that just by destroying a little Noise that the world will notice me!? Hey!"
Dan shrugged under Gojo, his white haori shifting as he extended his hands towards Gojo's hair. "In theory. The well of humanity is not a conscious entity. If you impact this world in a way that cannot be ignored, your name will surely be recorded in the well. Cause and effect."
Gojo caught Dan's wrist. His grip was iron.
"Are you sure?"
Dan's smile didn't waver. "I'm sure of it."
Gojo slowly let go. His hand fell to his side.
Dan smiled, his purple eyes catching the light. Gojo scratched his cheek, quickly turning his head away.
Hikaru, at the side, let out a huff, stomping his foot. "What? Turns out you're just a little kid."
"Oi, shut up!" Gojo snapped towards Hikaru, punching his shoulder. "Guh!"
Dusting off non-existent dust from his hands, Gojo put his right arm on his hips, turning towards Dan. "So? What do I do?"
Dan chuckled, his hands covering his mouth. "Simple. You, Gojo Satoru, will join SPID temporarily as an agent of Section 7."
""Section 7?""
Dan stood up and walked over, running his fingers against the glass wall. "Yes, Gojo Satoru is to be put into SPID Section 7 as a Temporary Operator."
Dan stopped and calmly pointed a finger towards Hikaru. "And you, Tetsukawa Hikaru, are to be assigned as Gojo Satoru's handler and mentor."
Hikaru stopped in his tracks, flailing his arms around in the air. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Aren't I already mentoring Sun and Brooke!? What about those two? Am I gonna have to teach three people!?"
Dan put his arm in his sleeve, looking at the other side of the glass. "No need to worry, Tetsukawa, as the two of them will be transferred under Lead Investigator, Shuu."
"Wait, just a moment! What about Gojo...?"
Dan calmly went up towards Gojo, cupping both of his hands. "Gojo, didn't you already accept?"
...
"Y-yeah, I did."
Dan let go of his hands, turning around with a flair. "Great. Now then, Hikaru, do you accept?"
"What about the Head of Section 7? How're you gonna contact em? Don't you need their permission? Also, what about Miyanouchi!?"
Dan laughed, swatting away Hikaru's worries. "Don't sweat it, Hikaru. Miyanouchi can just contact Sugisawa; besides, Miyanouchi has already approved of Gojo's recruitment."
Hikaru stammered on his words, his mouth babbling. He bit his lip. Fuck, what do I do! Don't tell me I can't run away... Fuck it, we ball! "Sir Dan, if I may, can the Section 7 snack area be supplied with more sweets?"
Dan curled a finger to his chin before nodding. "Sure, it's not that much of a budget increase anyway. When I go to Miyanouchi later, I'll put in a word."
Hikaru stammered, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. "I am truly grateful, Sir Dan!"
Dan patted his head lightly. "No need for such theatrics. Oh!" Dan stopped, spinning his head towards Gojo. "You, come with me outside. We'll have someone come and measure your height, weight, bust, waist, hips, and so on for your uniform. Now, don't dilly dally!"
Clapping his hands, Dan went outside and opened the door, leaving the two of them inside. Gojo, hands behind his back, looked at Hikaru, still stuck like a drawn bow. "So, what're you doing?"
"Midlife crisis, don't worry. Also, please help me."
"Heh, why?"
"My back is killing me. I think I need to see a doctor to get my disc fixed."
"Oh, midlife crisis indeed."
The door closed behind them with a bang. Gojo stretched, flexing his limbs in the same cold LED, this time, under a larger area. "Ah, fresh air! Long time no see!"
"Yeah, long time no see my ass. Ow." Hikaru leaned on the doorframe, clutching it as he held his back. Gojo glanced at him before giving his shins a quick kick. "Ack! Why're you hitting me!? You've been doing this since earlier!"
"No reason."
Hikaru curled his fists before letting it go with a sigh, putting it into his pocket. "Young people these days."
Gojo crouched, looking at Hikaru's face. He seems... Malnourished? Sugar withdrawals?
"Hey old man."
Hikaru felt his temple tighten. "I'm not an old man, I'm 38."
"Sure, sure"
"Hey, you totally went for that!"
"Revenge for earlier, old-timer."
Gojo crouched and hoisted Hikaru on his shoulder. Rooms, hallways, and people, all blurred as they moved. SPID never stopped, something Gojo noticed. Pausing at a closed door, they reached Section 6 Unit. Gojo dropped Hikaru, leaning him on a bench. "So, is this it? Section 6?"
Hikaru nodded, massaging his knees. "Yeah. I would've gone towards Section 5, but they're in a separate building, so we'll stick with the Section 6 Unit. Get ready to be measured, kid."
Opening the door, Hikaru walked in first, grabbing a candy bar from a nearby table. Gojo went after, also reaching for a candy bar. But he didn't grab anything. Looking towards Hikaru, Gojo saw his pockets filled to the brim with sweets. This geezer... He's really gonna get diabetes sooner or later.
Tapping the metal frame of a clothing rack, Hikaru leaned on it, the rack creaking against his weight.
"We've got a newbie here, needs a new uniform."
"Yeah, already got it from Sir Dan."
A woman came in from the side, hands holding a pile of clothes that covered her face. "Gojo, this is the fitter for the Operational Command. Be nice to her, or else she'll give you shitty fabric."
Gojo tiptoed, trying to get a solid look at her face. "Operational Command?"
Hikaru lightly punched his palm. Can't believe I forgot.
Hikaru browsed the clothes on the rack, speaking as he searched for a good fit. "Yeah, I forgot to mention this, but SPID is divided into three commands. Administrative, Operational, and Oversight."
Gojo raised an eyebrow, eyeing the other clothes. "Three? Why don't you just merge them?"
Hikaru shrugged, pulling a white shirt from the rack and holding it against Gojo's chest. "Budgets, probably. Easier to divide among nine sections and three commands, if I had to guess. Administrative handles the boring work. Legal, registration, cover-ups, containment, logistics. Reason why we have paperwork."
Gojo wrinkled his nose. "Sounds fun?"
"It's not. You're lucky you're a temp, since temps don't handle paperwork much if you're in Operational Command. That's us, by the way. Training, intelligence, field work."
Hikaru put the shirt back into the rack, filing and trying to find others that fit Gojo. "And lastly, Oversight. They handle internal affairs. Those bastards are too stingy. Any slight budget increase counts as fraud to them."
Gojo snorted. "Sounds like some familiar rotten apples back home."
"You had those, too? Rough times for everyone, huh."
"They smelled like sake and incense all the time, too, yuck." Gojo mouthed, mimicking vomiting.
Hikaru laughed, hitting Gojo's shoulder. It hit. Huh, I've been keeping Infinity off?
Gojo went still for a moment before he let his shoulders drop. Who cares? At least there's no danger for now, might as well keep it shut.
"Hah, at least our higher-ups smell more like cigs and paper."
"Lucky you."
The fitter coughed, holding a tape measure. "Ahem, can we focus? I've got other stuff piled up here, so I'd like to make this quick."
Hikaru hunched, holding the back of his head. "Sorry, sorry."
She huffed once before spreading the tape measure wide. "Okay, Gojo. Arms out, and don't move."
Gojo raised his arms diligently, watching her wrap the tape and measure his three sizes.
"Height?"
"Six two!"
"Centimeters.
"One eighty-eight!"
She scribbled it down on a notepad. "Weight?"
"Don't remember."
"Try and guess."
"Hm, roughly eighty kilos rounded out."
She wrote it down. Stepping back, she studied him, forming a picture frame with her hands.
"Hm, I think the standard-issue black would suit you best. What do you both think?"
Hikaru nodded. "Standard issue works fine."
Gojo looked at the rack of black uniforms, pouting. "No cool stuff? Like custom buttons, patches, and hoodies? Where's the flair?"
"A badge is all the flair you get." Tossing the set to Gojo, the fitter went back to work, picking up the pile of clothes and walking back into the storage room.
Gojo caught the bundle. He rubbed it in his hands. It felt stiff, too new. He held it up, the cotton passing light through.
Gojo sighed, shouldering the uniform and going towards a changing area, trudging through piles upon piles of clothing.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Gojo thought it wasn't that bad, honestly. Spinning around, he noticed the straps and the various laces, buttons, and pockets on it. Stepping out, he noticed a pair of gray side-gore boots next to the fitting area. Hikaru pointed at it, munching on a protein bar.
Fitting it on, Gojo stomped around, getting a feel of his new outfit. Not too shabby. My old uniform was more expensive, but this one is way more practical.
As Gojo was strutting around in his new outfit, Hikaru walked over, his hand holding a box.
It was a metal box, rounded on the edges, and a simple locking mechanism was attached to it.
Gojo stopped, feeling a slight shiver down his spine. "Uh. What's in that?"
Hikaru didn't answer; instead, he popped it open.
Gojo looked inside. Don't tell me!
"No, no, no! I ain't wearing an ankle monitor!"
"Look, kid, it's procedure, okay? No need to get all stressed, here, have a Snickers."
"I don't need a Snickers! Besides, when did all of you mention that I'd have to wear one!"
"Rules are rules. Listen, just hide it under your pants. They're cargo pants. See? If you hide them well enough, no one's gonna notice."
It's not like that! I'm the Strongest! I don't need a leash! Besides, I'm no criminal! Gojo tried to say something, but he couldn't.
Hikaru sighed. "Listen, we don't, nor will we ever think of you as a criminal, got it? To us, you're just a teen, unnoticed by the world. We don't know how you got that way. Accident, deliberate, doesn't matter. You're still a kid. And this?"
Hikaru tapped it twice. "This is insurance. We're here to monitor you in case you get into danger. We don't want a kid dying on us after all, even though you're a temp."
Gojo muttered. "But I'm the Strongest."
"The Strongest still dies someday. Now, lift up your leg."