about as much fic for Keitai Sousakan 7 as there is for the rest of my
toku fandoms, which is to say not much. So I decided to write another
Keita thought he would never finish the day.
Anchor seemed to alternate between sending him on solo missions and
sending him with Kirihara, who was less than enthused to have him
jobshadowing. Well, it wasn’t his fault! He wasn’t the one who gave the
orders. He was still a trainee, an apprentice, Seven’s buddy-to-be.
Nevermind that he carried his ‘buddy’ at his side all day, every day,
in a cellphone case secured at his belt. The only time he didn’t was
when he was at home, where Seven played the role of a regular cellphone
on his charger.
Today had been one of his solo missions, where he’d had to sneak into a
bank. And not just into the bank, but the secure areas, to keep an eye
out for things while Seven worked. It wasn’t like he knew much about
computers or programming anyway, though he was learning to type.
And he was learning to run. Funny how a rogue sentient cellphone and
its temporary ‘buddies’ trying to kill him did wonders to his
endurance. He’d started jogging when he had time, just to increase how
far he could run, just so that he wouldn’t die.
Dying was a real possibility in his job. He’d seen Takimoto die, saw
Kirihara wounded, been shot at, gassed, and attacked. The wound from
Zero-one’s saw had just healed recently, and he had other injuries as
well. If it hadn’t been for Takimoto’s words, the possibility that he’d
make a difference, he would have just turned Seven back to Anchor weeks
He’d not been shot at this time, but it had been close, and the fact
that he was able to get back out was a minor miracle. “That was too
close,” he said, while trying to seem as inconspicuous and
uninteresting as possible on his walk home. Someday, the police were
going to catch him being somewhere he shouldn’t be, especially that cop
who thrived on the “walking cellphone” rumor, and he would be out of
luck, in prison, with his family wondering what had gone wrong. And
Anchor would have to rescue Seven and clean up the mess.
“Agreed, Trainee,” Seven said. Keita made a face at the title. Seven
had no problems talking back to his human partner. But at least he
didn’t make a comment on how to improve, or that Keita needed to
approve. Maybe Keita was getting closer to full agent; he could always
In the meantime, all he had to do was keep the secret from his family
and those around him, and he’d be all right. Even if it meant coming up
with new reasons why he was coming home bruised and battered. But he
could handle that.
He turned up the music on his iPod and went home.