tenipuri_xp | [log] Yukimura, Tezuka

Date: 05.02.08
Rating: G
Summary: Yukimura gets an initial look at X-Corp's Tokyo headquarters, courtesy of Tezuka.

Moving had to qualify as the most chaotic endeavor he'd ever undertaken -- though Yukimura Seiichi was fairly certain that after the past two years, he should be used to chaos by now. He'd faced super-villains in battle, dealt with natural disasters, been to the farthest reaches of the Antarctic...

It was just a different type of chaos, he reminded himself. An unfamiliar one, and honestly, far more predictable than anything he was used to.

Though all things considered, he was starting to think he'd much rather take on Magneto again than face the mountain of boxes currently sitting in the living room of his apartment. Or the ever-growing list of things that needed to be taken care of before he could truly feel settled in Tokyo. He needed groceries, a new cell phone and number, to visit his family in the next few days... A yukata.

At least the number one thing on his list was taken care of. The steaming cup of coffee in the familiar tan and green cup was at least one thing he'd gotten used to in New York that he could easily find now that he was returned to Japan. Taking a sip, he drew a soft breath and glanced at the facade of the office building he'd come to a halt in front. It was non-descript, honestly, though clean and modern in design. The address on the glass doors matched the one he was looking for.

There was no sense in even trying the doors, however; it was a holiday, and he knew it was going to be locked from an earlier conversation with a new colleague online. Instead, he shifted his drink from his right hand to his left and pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. The number for the office was on speed dial -- pound nine -- and he held the phone to his ear as it rang, still sipping his coffee. When a voice sounded on the other end, Yukimura spoke in careful Japanese, "Ah, hello... Tezuka-san? This is Yukimura Seiichi."

If there was one thing Tezuka appreciated about working on holidays, it was how quiet the office was. On regular days it was somewhat-chaotic; though a controlled chaos, it was chaos nonetheless, with telephones ringing, colleagues chattering, even powers being exercised. Tezuka had shielded himself from far too many projectiles to consider his defensive shield subject to his personal ban on using his powers outside of training. Discretion was the greater part of valor, and one could scarcely be useful if one was easily injured. Considering the number of children with powers that often spiraled out of control when first manifesting, it was a necessary part of working here.

Now the office was silent, and Tezuka could actually hear the low hum of the single air-conditioner he'd turned on. The weather wasn't hot, but the windows in his section were bolted for security reasons. He finished the report he was reading, initialed the corner to remind himself, and reached for another one just as the telephone rang. The caller ID displayed "outside range", and for the briefest of moments, Tezuka wondered if it was an emergency, and his heart sped up. Then he remembered Yukimura.

He picked up the receiver. "X-Corporation ... Yes, that's me. Good day, Yukimura-kun. I've been expecting your call."

"Thank you for waiting for me," the voice on the line said. "I'm now standing downstairs. In front of the doors. Are you available to show me the office?"

This proved Yukimura didn't have problems navigating in Tokyo, at any rate. Tezuka checked the pile of reports on his desk. Lacking the usual distractions, he'd been able to work very quickly. "Certainly. Please wait there. I'll be down in a few moments," he said, standing.

"Oh ... it's no trouble to --" The other's Japanese was rusty, but understandable.

"It's not a bother," Tezuka said. "I'll see you in two minutes." He hung up, and checked to make sure he had his security clearances. He'd prepared Yukimura's as well; he carried it now, fingering the neck strap thoughtfully. Perhaps he should have waited for Yukimura to finish protesting. Tezuka wondered what sort of person Yukimura was, and whether he would take offence at that. Ryuuzaki-sensei had briefed the office on the new arrival, and Tezuka was looking forward to meeting a former student of the Xavier institute. He wondered why a son of a Diet member was interested in an internship at X-Corporation instead of at the Diet itself. Curiosity? An attempt on the elder Yukimura's part to foster better mutant-human relationships? The son, seeking a way to live without affecting the father?

Well, he would find out soon enough, Tezuka thought, entering the elevators.

"Huh." Yukimura held his phone away from his ear as the call cut off, an unreadable expression on his face. That had been... Curt, he decided. Not necessarily rude, though after spending the past several years among New Yorkers, he suspected he had a higher tolerance for rudeness than most.

But no, he regressed. Curt.

Punching two keys on his phone to lock the keypad, he slide it back into his pocket and took another sip of the steaming hot beverage he held as he waited. It was quiet out, the offices in a section of the city that were less busy due to the holiday and the impending festival later the next day, but the weather was pleasant and mild. He hummed, still taking small sips of his drink, until he caught sight of a figure moving in the shadows beyond the glass. The man approached and unlocked the glass door, swinging it up.

Yukimura beamed pleasantly. "Tezuka-san?" he greeted, giving the other an awkward, partial bow.

There was no need for Yukimura to bow to Tezuka, but now that the other was doing so, it wasn't as if Tezuka could ignore it. He returned the bow, then straightened, extending a hand to the other. "Yukimura-kun," Tezuka said. "Thank you for coming on a holiday. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It seems you're familiar enough with Tokyo already."

Yukimura took the other's offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Ah, it's no problem," he smiled, then admitted, "I needed some time away from the apartment anyway." Before the boxes gained sentience and attacked.

He was fairly certain it could happen. He'd seen stranger.

"I just hope I'm not inconveniencing you while you're working, Tezuka-san," he shrugged as he stepped into the building behind the elder man. The closed and locked behind them. "I'd completely forgotten what a madhouse Golden Week can be."

A firm handshake. At least Yukimura's political upbringing had that advantage. "If you seek a madhouse, return next week," Tezuka said as he returned it, maintaining what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face. "There is no one else at the office now, and I don't expect Wada-san until nine. He's the night shift dispatch in a similar position as myself," he explained. "Your visit isn't an inconvenience. I appreciate the initiative to get settled in more quickly. How is the apartment?"

They stepped into the elevator, and Tezuka pressed the button, watching the doors slide closed. Yukimura's coffee smelled good in the close confines of the elevator. Tezuka turned, pulling out the security card he'd prepared for Yukimura. "Entrance to the offices requires this. No one will let you in without it; guard it well. I'm sure you understand the precautions against shape-shifters, among others." He held up the white card embossed with Yukimura's name, dangling from a generic blue strap with no X-Corporation identification.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open, and Tezuka led the way out. He paused, standing in the lobby, and waited for the elevator doors to close before speaking again. "For the same reason, I regret that I must ask you to prove your identity before I give this to you," he said.

"I fully intend to," Yukimura chuckled in reply. Office work was still a new experience to him. He'd only had a few weeks at the main offices at the Institute, really, to learn the basic procedures of X-Corporation. Still, each office had its own particulars to learn as well, and listened patiently to Tezuka's explanation of what position he was in.

Dispatcher, was he? In charge of communications, then, between units.

It explained why the older man needed to be in the over the holidays.

Sipping his coffee, Yukimura nodded his comprehension as the rest of the security procedures were presented to him. The offices in Salem Center had had similar protocols, after all; it was vital, really, to the safety and privacy of not only those that worked in the office, but those that they served.

"Completely," he consented with a grimace. Shape-shifters were nasty business, he knew, having dealt with a small handful of their brood on numerous occasions. "I'll keep it secure." The next request only brought a chuckle to his lips, however. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid the Professor didn't say anything about a secret handshake," he confessed. But it was a perfectly reasonable precaution. "Just tell me what you need from me. A genetic signature scan, a psi-scan?" He shrugged. No method was one hundred percent infallible; the best shape-shifters could mask or even imitate, to some degree, a gene-sig, and psi-scans could be evaded as well.

The corners of Tezuka's mouth twitched. A secret handshake? Well, he knew some of the others would have fun with that one. "Aa. You'll have to ask Fujita-san to teach you that."

It was unfortunate that one had to do these things, but X-Corp had learned its lesson painfully in other parts of the world before; verbal challenge-response no longer provided any form of security beyond the most casual of intruders. Sensors embedded in this room would pick up Yukimura's genetic and psionic signatures. Individually, they were possible to fake, but when taken at the same time, the chances of falsifying gene-sigs and psi-sigs successfully were much lower.

"Please face it and remain still for three seconds," Tezuka said, indicating a panel recessed into the wall.

When the green light above the panel turned off, Tezuka nodded. All clear, but because there was a matter of security clearance above the minimal level, a powers demonstration would provide the final confirmation. "Thank you, Yukimura-kun. Finally, please bring that ashtray to me as you stand." Tezuka indicated the metal ashtray sitting atop the coffee table at the end of the hall.

"Of course," Yukimura agreed, turning towards the panel mounted in the wall. He remained motionless for the few seconds it took to verify his unique signatures, unperturbed by the process.

The green light flickered off and Yukimura drew his gaze back to Tezuka, then to the ashtray at the far end of the hall. Well… That was a sight in a semi-public space, he mused. Most offices in New York had completely done away with such things in public spaces, to further push citizens into a healthy life style. He was mildly surprised to see one here.

Until he considered the amount of stress most parents had to be under upon learning that their child was a mutant.

Well, he couldn’t fault them then -- he could just hope he didn't need to pass through the lobby when a bunch of smokers were present. He'd had his fill of cigar smoke as it was. Taking a moment to level his gaze onto the object, he pulled at it with the part of his mind that triggered his ability. It lifted slowly, steady in the air, and he drew it forward towards himself at an easy pace until it hovered between himself and the other man. "Like so?" he questioned lightly, taking another sip of his coffee.

Tezuka nodded. "Thank you. Here is your security pass," he said, preparing it for presentation to Yukimura. Tezuka knew his own pass worked, but he'd only tested Yukimura's once, and besides, he had to show him the entry procedures. "Please return the ashtray, and then touch the pass to that panel, and then say your name and a pass-phrase." The system would record Yukimura's voiceprints for use the next time.

Yukimura took the security pass in hand and let the ashtray glide back to the table, then settle. "All right," he conceded, crossing to the panel. Placing the pass's backside against a small reader in the panel, he hesitated a second, gathered his thoughts, and then spoke, "Yukimura Seiichi." Then he switched to English, calmly adding, "The first rule about fight club is you don’t talk about fight club."

A smile tugged his lips when he stepped back, name and pass-phrase set.

Tezuka didn't recognize the quote, but gathered it was in English. Fight club? He eyed Yukimura carefully. He was slight, but certainly not scrawny. Perhaps Yukimura was part of a boxing club, and didn't enjoy talking about it. That didn't make logical sense to Tezuka--why join a club you didn't like? Unless the members enjoyed pretending it was a secret.

The door beeped, and then slid open. "After you," Tezuka said politely.

"Thank you." Yukimura nodded and stepped beyond the door, frowning softly at the rows of desks. Ah, right. Japan… Land of the cubicle farm, he grimaced. And these didn't even have the benefits of walls between the space. He could see alternating piles of messy paperwork and neat, some chairs were tucked under the desks while others remained pushed back.

He shouldn't have expected anything less, really.

It didn't mean he relished the sight of it, but he held back the sigh that threatened as he followed the other man through the pathway between desks.

Yukimura would probably want to see where he would be sitting and working. Tezuka headed for his section, nodding at the "General Affairs" sign that hung above them. "Feel free to make this desk your own," he said, indicating a blank rectangular desk. There was a telephone and a computer on the table, but nothing beyond that. "Ando-san will supply you with most items you need, and order the rest." He indicated a table two desks away. "Nemoto-san will be able to get you information on most things, though she tends to be swamped with requests. Learning to do it oneself will save time in an urgent situation."

And then there was his own. "Ryuuzaki-san asked me to help you settle in. Should you need me for anything, my desk is here." He pointed to the last one.

Yukimura followed Tezuka's finger as he motioned from desk to desk, nodding and finishing off the rest of his coffee. "All right," he said, smiling behind the lip of his cup. Really, he was going to have to call Seth later, when his New York friend awoke, just so they could have a good laugh at this.

Yukimura Seiichi. Scion. Salary man. Who would have ever guessed?

But that would at least hold off for another several hours, he mused. Finishing off cup, he considered. "Thank you… Senpai then, yes?" he considered; it had been a while since he'd used honorifics, and he found himself sticking to the most basic whenever possible. Glancing at the cup, he added, "The office doesn't by any chance have a… Uhm… Recycling bin?"\

At the mention of -senpai, Tezuka shook his head. "Not -senpai; -san will do for every one of us. Not many of us stand on occasion to that extent."

Tezuka looked at Yukimura's cup. "If you mean a trash can, there are unsorted receptacles throughout the office," he said. He looked down the hall. "Actual recycling bins are in the kitchenette, next to the wall. End of the hall, and to the right. Recyclables are sorted into bottles, cans, paper, plastic, aluminum ..."

Tezuka paused--he couldn't list them all. He'd never bothered to memorize the list, as the bins had always been there and handy enough. And if one finished scanning the labels and didn't find a certain type, it went into the general burnable or unburnable waste. "The labels are in kanji, but I trust you can read them."

What else was there? "We have no lockers, but your desk keys are yours to do with as you see fit," Tezuka said, gesturing towards the keys sticking out from their little locks. "You know your hours. Do you have any questions?"

"All right then, Tezuka-san it is," he conceded easily enough.

Yukimura nodded again, taking in the other's instructions to the kitchenette. "I'm picking them back up quickly enough," he assured, half grinning. "No worries." It wasn't like he'd not used them on occasion while in New York; he'd simply gotten lax, and he was aware of it. The past two weeks, when he'd not been studying for finals, had been drilling the more common ones back into his head.

Flicking his eyes to the keys, he let his power tug them from the lock and into his grasp. "And… No, I think that covers the basics. Ryuzaki-san indicated that she and I would meet Wednesday morning to go over procedures, finalize my hours, and such." He shrugged, unconcerned.

Tezuka watched the small display of power, not reacting. "I see. In that case, I believe the tour is over. You may stay if you wish, or I can walk you out."

Yukimura shook his head. "I'm afraid I do need to go," he confessed. He still had errands to run, after all. "I need to find out if anything is open today so that I can settle a bit better. For now… Hm. This should be all right here, I take it?" Letting go of the coffee cup, it hovered as he glanced under the desk and instructed it to float smoothly to the container under the desk. "Thank you very much for your time though."

"It's no trouble," Tezuka said. Was it youth that meant Yukimura enjoyed exercising his power at every turn? He wondered if Yukimura was merely testing Tezuka's reaction to telekinesis, but then discarded that as irrational. Some mutants enjoyed using their powers in private, because they had to be very careful in public. Perhaps Yukimura was one of those. "Let me walk you out again."