The forms were most of the usuals: a log of recent missions, recent injuries, general information, next of kin. Only the last one was new: T&I Entrance Checklist.

Question 1: Please state your reason for being here.

Raidou chewed the end of his pen — he’d picked a blue one — and finally wrote, Evaluation at Sagara-sama’s request.

Question 2: Do you have any concerns you’d like to discuss with the investigator assigned to your case?

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? After a lengthy debate, he wrote: Yes. They could ask him for details.

Question 3: Have you experienced any psychological symptoms that cause you concern?

“Nene-san?”

The blonde curls popped up. “Yes?”

“How important is the checklist?”

“Well, the investigators really prefer if you complete it to the best of your ability.”

“Aren’t they going to ask all this anyway?”

“We find that putting things into writing really helps focus the mind before the meeting. You’d be amazed how many people show up here with no idea what to talk about.”

“No kidding,” Raidou said dryly. He wondered what they’d do if Ryouma landed on their doorstep. Have him dictate his concerns onto a tape-player?

He wrote mission blackout, scowled at the form and the stupid blue pen, and moved on. The next questions were easier: one about his diet, one about his sleep patterns, one about his parents’ ranks, jobs, and mental health, one about any current medications…

The last items were an anxiety scale and a depression scale. He scored relatively low on both and thought that must be a good sign. Unless they thought he was lying.

Really they’d be better served by a paranoia scale.

Nene collected the paperwork, encouraged him to eat his banana and drink his tea, and asked if he wanted a bathroom break before she sent a message to his investigator.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“People forget,” she said kindly. “It can be very embarrassing.”

“I think I’m good.”

“Very well.” She rapped her knuckles lightly on the wall. A seamless section folded down on hinges, revealing a pair of hissing pneumatic tubes. Nene folded a message into a plastic capsule and placed it into a tube. Air hissed louder; the capsule shot up into the wall. Nene replaced the section. “Shibata-san should be down momentarily.”

Raidou had his tea-mug halfway to his mouth. He paused. “I’m sorry, did you say Shibata?”

“I did.”

“As in head of T&I Shibata-san?”

“That’s correct, yes. He shouldn’t be long.”

There wasn’t enough air in the room. Raidou set his tea down before he did something unfortunate with it. “I’m supposed to be seeing Matsumoto-san.” She hadn’t been nice, but she’d given him a kernel to cling to: we’re not in the business of injuring our own. “Sagara-sama was really specific—”

“Matsumoto-san is a liaison. She facilitates your investigator.” Nene consulted a note. “Though it looks like Shibata-san requested your case personally. It’s really quite an honor.”

“Oh,” Raidou said numbly. “Good. Do you think I could have that intake form back—”

A door on the other side of the lobby opened.

“Namiashi-san,” said a light tenor marred by a rasping hiss. “Come with me.”