madimpossibledreamer

        “Why headphones?” Yosuke’s starting to read his boss’s moods, and that’s definitely curiosity.
        “I like the way they feel,” he forces himself to answer honestly.  “And the way they make me feel, I guess.”
        Apparently it’s enough of an answer for Narukami.

        Yosuke’s running late.  Most people having to run through the acidic rain would probably have to apply a MedPatch once they got into a building after running through the rain, but he just has to concentrate a little and shake out his hair when he gets inside.  He feels a little like a drowned rat, felt the acid start to eat through his skin, and even with newly regrown skin feels odd, like plastic second skin.  Since he’s a Magician he doesn’t usually have to use manual methods of disguise, but it never hurts to do things the normal way sometimes, keep himself in shape.  It doesn’t do to just rely on tech and magic, because of what might go wrong, because he has to stay responsible.
        His hair still looks a bit odd, but then, it was his fault for not parking closer.  Technically, he could, but he hates throwing around the perks of his new position.  Maybe it’s because he’s a Magician.  It’s better to not draw attention to yourself as a Magician.  Maybe he’d be loudly obnoxious instead of quietly obnoxious.  But it’s useless to speculate about it too much, since he is a Magician and has been one for long enough he can’t guess what it would be like to not be a Magician.
        He takes the stairs three at a time, one hand on the more professional black headphones to ensure they don’t fall off, and before he gets to the top he can hear Narukami yelling.
        Yelling.  The man barely ever raises his voice.
        “I don’t care about your reputation, Mr. Director.  What I care about is finding the killer, and as a police officer I have more authority than a low-level corporate stooge like you.  If you keep refusing to cooperate, I will arrest you for obstruction, and I doubt any Corp employee would fare too well in jail.”
        He’s never, ever heard the Chief talk like that, never casually threaten anyone.  He’s so hard to rattle Yosuke had begun to wonder if his cyborg nature extended to the emotional level as well.
        Uhm, Amagi, on a scale of one to annihilation, how likely is the Captain going to bite my head off for being late?  She intimidates him, true, but less than Satonaka and definitely less than Kujikawa.
        You’re not Corporate.  You’ll be fine.  In fact, you might help his mood, given that I’m almost positive he has a crush on you.
        He blushes and hates that she can tell through the link, because it’s all she can do to hold the helpless giggle in.
        Even after that little Shadow virus stunt.  You’re lucky.
        Shut up, he grumbles, but pushes on the door anyway.
        It’s got something to do with his past, but we’re not sure and I’m not the type to gossip anyway, she adds.
        The Chief whips around, a snarl on his lips, but the words die before they are spoken.  He blinks a little, looking embarrassed, and then smiles.  That might even be a chuckle.  “Didn’t want to fix your hair, huh?  I hope the acid rain wasn’t too bad.”
        Yosuke runs a hand through his hair, annoyed.  “My hair is fine, Captain.  Now that I’m here, how can I help?”
        Narukami sends an image of petting the bedraggled hair, like Yosuke’s a cat, and in retaliation Yosuke sends the best enraged cat hiss back.  Which makes Yu snort even as he starts filling him in about corporate espionage and two heavily mangled bodies.

Well.  This happened, again.
I think Shadow Yosuke or various alts tend to be flirty (in their dangerous way) because they don’t see a reason for them not to go for what they want. If they're interested and don't find something boring.  If Saki-senpai had been alive in various worlds, they'd probably be creepily flirty with her.  And they like wordplay, being shocking.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Persona 4 Ghost in the Shell inspired au
Summary: The Shadow Virus strikes.
Word Count: 635
Rating: Gen

        “Chie!”  She hears the newbie call her name and he’s not good-natured or amused like he usually is.  (She realizes, as she’s sitting there, as if frozen, that it’s a defense mechanism.  That he could get frustrated or swear or whatever, but people are wary enough when he’s not covering the nanotats with makeup.  If he’s quiet, friendly, helpful, people are less likely to stare at him with suspicion or tell him to get the hell out.)
        She feels someone tackle her and she hits the ground hard enough to break a rib or three.  In fact, she hears the crack on impact, feels the instant of agony, and then it’s gone.  But that’s impossible.
        “Sorry about that,” Hanamura manages, voice strained.  She glances at him.  He’s pale, like all the ghosts in those stories Yukiko tells—no, don’t think about that!!
        Think about what?  She’s panicked enough she’s broadcasting.  Embarrassing.
        Don’t worry, not everyone’s hearing this.  They’ve got some sort of interference up.  What’s really worrying is that he sounds as tired in the channel as he does when he’s actually speaking, which means that he’s somehow managed to exhaust himself already.
       “Are you frustrated?” she asks, and he frowns at her and suddenly the fuzziness in her head disappears too.  But that was just from getting up early, not from a concussion.  He’s going overboard, and exhausting himself in the process.  She’ll just have to corner him in the station, where he can’t run away and maybe can do a bit of self-defense practice, work out some aggression, because that approach can’t be healthy.
        “Shooters.  Stopped time.  Small area.  Catching back up.”  He stops to catch his breath, then rolls off her.  “Healed ribs,” he adds.
        “How hard was that to do?” she asks, knowing, in awe, worried.
        “Hard.”  What’s creepier is that as he loses colour and substance, his tattoos appear to have been gaining an unearthly glow.  “Conscious for now.”
        She takes a deep breath and begins dragging Yosuke behind a convenient truck.  It’s a good thing she works out, honestly.

        “Hey, Hanamura,” Narukami calls, and the brunet slows, turns quizzically.
        Hanamura’s really a cheerful person.  Smiles a lot.  But they haven’t really talked, and he wants to get to know the people on his team better.
        “You want to get some ramen?” he asks casually, and that’s definitely a smile in return.
        “Oh, man, I’m starving.  Just lemme grab my gear.”  Then he pauses while pulling on his shoes.  “This is okay, right?  I haven’t memorized that giant tome of a manual thing yet.”
        It earns just the slightest of tugs on the side of Narukami’s mouth.  Which is more emotion than he usually shows.  “You couldn’t just write that into your memory?” he asks, curious, and the brunet pauses.
        “Huh.  Yeah, I probably could.  I never considered it before.  That could’ve been really useful in college,” he states thoughtfully, before shrugging.  “But then, rewriting people is always dangerous, so I shouldn’t do it casually like that.”
        Yuu blinks.  Hanamura hadn’t discussed that before.  Then again, wasn’t that what this was about?  Learning both the man and the skills?
        The brunet picks up the beaten orange messenger bag from the locker with his name and nods.  “Okay, lead on, Captain.”

              Narukami watches his team with a smile.  Their Magician’s going to work out just fine, after all.  He’ll goof off with the best of them when they’ve got time off, but the minute things turn serious he can actually buckle down and get to work.  And for all he’s new to this, he is competent.