[center][h2]Kikunojo Kichiro[/h2][/center]
[hider=A LOT OF INTRO FLUFF YOU DO NOT NECESSARILY NEED TO READ BUT I LIKED ANYWAY]
Kikunojo Kichiro woke up that morning in the same way he'd been waking up for almost a decade: Hacking his lungs to pieces. He sat bolt upright, ragged barking sounds tearing through his throat as he fumbled on the nightstand for a bottle of water. It was early, but the blackout curtains on his windows covered his tiny apartment in gloom.

	His questing hand finally landed on the bottle. He spun off the cap and took several long swallows of the tepid water. It tasted faintly of dust. He had discovered within the first year of buying the old place that it didn't matter if he cleaned or not, as everything seemed to be covered in a permanent layer of detritus. Kichiro clenched his jaw and kept his eyes shut tight. This was it, the one blissful moment of peace when his mind hadn't fully woken up yet, before-

[color=9e0b0f][i]he killed me he killed me he-
MY BABY OH WHERE IS MY-
I will rain blood from the sky-
ohpleasehelpmeplease-[/i][/color]

	A thousand voices and senses pushed into his subconscious, fighting each other for dominance. They ran riot in his mind, threatening to tear it apart from the inside. 

	“[color=3232DF]Shut [b]up[/b][/color].” Kichiro snarled quietly, jamming his knuckles against his temples to stave off the coming migraine. Abruptly the hoard of sensations dulled to an omnipresent hum of white noise as his mental shields slid into place.

	Finally, Kichiro opened his eyes, and stumbled the three steps across his floor to the window. He reached up and jerked the curtain open. Brilliant sunlight flooded the small room. He felt a tiny ripple of distress from a number of minor spirits as the light burned them away. He blinked owlishly through the window, forcing his eyes to adjust to the light.

	[i][color=3232DF]Okay[/color][/i]. He thought. [i][color=3232DF]Here we go again[/color][/i].

	 The phone call had come the previous day in the early afternoon. Iori-san was one of the oldest agents still working, though his role was mainly clerical these days. He was the first contact Kichiro ever had with the Agency, what felt like a lifetime ago. A nice enough guy, always made sure Kichiro was compensated for his time, but he still was a slave to the system.
	“[color=aba000]They're having sort of a... Meet 'n greet for the Agents. Big wigs want you there.[/color]” The old man said over the phone, gruff and not the least bit apologetic.
	“[color=3232DF]No way, man. Why? You call me when you need me, I don't have to hang around your clubhouse. That's been the deal.[/color]” Kichiro had replied. 
	“[color=aba000]The times are changing, son. Agents are getting younger every year. Some of 'em whiz around in big ol' robots; I know you've seen that. If you'd have told me thirty years ago we'd have robots cuttin' up demons with swords, I'd have shot you. We got a girl now, fifteen years old, saw her throw a sedan a full city block once. Looked bored while doin' it, just kept eatin' pocky.[/color]”
	“[color=3232DF]What's that got to do with me?[/color]”
	“[color=aba000]It's a flashier world. People like seein' that kind of crap, makes 'em feel like they're livin' in comic books. It's good for business to keep the public happy. And you... Well, you're a weird guy, Kichiro. You're damned good at what you do, son, but it's creepy. You make people uncomfortable. Some executives are starting to worry about paying a shifty low-life to chase around dead people, one who refuses to become an official agent at that. Come show your face, make nice, and we won't have to cut you off.[/color]”
	Kichiro's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “[color=3232DF]I have no idea how to do that.[/color]” 
	Iori-san laughed, a rare noise from the old man. “[color=aba000]Just fight the urge to be gloomy. They'll be calling you onii-san in no time.[/color]”
	Kichiro hung up. He lit a cigarette and stared into the middle distance. [i]Make nice?[/i]
	A small, child like laugh echoed from his closet, which was filled top to bottom with books.
	Kichiro chuckled too. Just another stupid joke.
[/hider]



	Kichiro arrived just in time for the meeting, and nearly turned right back around and left. It was enough that a terrible headache pounded away behind his eyes, and the looks he had gotten from the handful of agents who knew him had an almost physical weight. Most of them looked at him with open disdain. A few gave him hesitant smiles or nods. The very few agents who had worked particularly close with him went a little pale, and looked away. Despite the the intense awkwardness of the situation, Kichiro's main concern had been staying awake. He leaned against a wall, sipping his third cup of coffee that morning and trying to focus on what anyone was saying.

	No dice, though. The words were bouncing off his sleep deprived brain like sponges off a brick wall. He hadn't gotten into bed until four that morning, coming in from a grueling, twelve hour exorcism. The house was purified, the family safe, and he was two million yen richer for the trouble, but still... He'd rather have had the night's sleep.

	Food. Okay, yeah, that was a good start. In fact, it was one of the few things he could find at the Agency. He made a decent living now, but he could remember sneaking into the cafeteria with partially legitimate credentials just to eat. He'd just stepped through the doors when his senses abruptly overloaded. Pumping bass and pulsing lights sent ripples of pain through his skull. [color=3232DF][i]Poltergeist! Oni! Tommyknocker![/i][/color] Some part of his mind screamed frantically, and Kichiro reacted on instinct. The spiritual forces in the room coalesced around him, then lashed outward. On the streets, and in a real emergency, it would've kept a rogue entity from knocking his head off.  In a room with no danger, however, it simply shorted the lights. The bulbs went out in a series of pops, leaving the room in darkness, EDM still thumping away through the gloom.
	“[color=3232DF]Oh.[/color]” Kichiro said nonchalantly to the room at large. “[color=3232DF]Your lights. Oughta have someone take a look at those.[/color]”
[@VitaVitaAR][@13org][@TheFake][@Raineh Daze]