Detective Of The East [Kaishin/Shinkai]

Chapter One | A Fitting, and Fixed Play-Date?

Rating: R(?)
Warnings; Mentions of blood and Violence!

Shinichi and His mother go shopping, (sort-of), and as thanks she sets him on a date!

SHINICHI's POV

Shinichi is prone to running straight into trouble. Even with the magick he possesses. If he did have the sudden urge to utilize it it'd be no better than a newborn baby. Shinichi doens't use his magick, when he works on the field alongside the Beika Police Department. Handling murderers.. it's a very sensitive area he studies and navigates, he confesses.

Most spectators, and even fellow police officers not so gifted in the magick-department, have a hard time hanging around anyone with magick. Which is, contradicting when a group of magick users from the morgue show up. They use their magick, which is specifically trained throughout adolescence; Magick users are immediately asked what career choice they have in mind when their magick is present within the come-of-age ceremony. Shinichi doesn't agree with those methods, but he won't say it out loud.. He can account for one time he voiced his opinion when a suspect was refusing to see the bigger picture.

He frowns, and continues his thinking in disdain. There's no turning back once the user decides what to do with their magick. Avoiding it would be bad unless the person chooses to make the decision of lying to the authorities. The decision is mandatory because publicly it's a stunt meant to keep the peace between two groups of people that no one will outright acknowledge will never be the same. Shinichi know's exactly how he feels about this, especially when the government recently discovered curses were a thing, and a neglience in another type of usage with magick didn't mean a person couldn't use it. He wants everyone to just admit there is an obvious difference in power because the jealousy is starting to feel unbecoming.

The whole thing is ridiculous in retrospect, but he see's a point why, and it infuriates him how much of a debate he gets himself in. He's rambling again.

Mages or not, murderers can come from all roots. A non-Magick is at risk without the protection in the form of bracelets provided for humans assigned at birth. Anyone is capable of killing, hurting or manipulating a bystander, including mages. A title which is given when someone possesses magick. A human is not yet free to openly use magick in passing or in broad daylight casually.

Shinichi remembers very clearly the first time it occurred to him that bystanders, and police were still skittish around mages. There is a level of Magick that is not required but there are means in the making trying to create friendships between the mages and humans. So, anyone wanting to do police work involving the investigation of the deceased is not exempt. Traces of magick exsist, and there are a specific methods for retracing it.

He just left a crime scene not too long ago.  Just down the road there's a crowd, and swarm of cop cars waiting outside of a Mexican restaurant. He was getting a breakfast bowl, when a man came swiping out at a woman. Shinichi was too late before than, all he could do was stop the bleeding, and ask for aid and some space.
His hands try to stay steady but the nerves coursing through his fingertips are to prevent someone's life from ending. He remembers over shadowing to help remove the light in her eyes as she gasped for air, clutching into his arms in a desperation to hang on.

His breakfast was soiled (he ended up throwing up afterwards, off to the side, away from the scene), and his hands were now dyed in blood. He rubs his hand subconsciously as he glances outside the window. He's expecting his mother, or they were scheduled to meet at this fancy boutique. She's lucky he's not making his way outside and back home.

He folds his arms over his chest, seated by the door, trying to act less inconspicuous as possible in front of the woman helping an elderly couple situate their granddaughters bridesmaid dress. He can't help but overhear. He presses his lips in a thin line and prays his mother will get here quick. At least, the detective managed to discard his suit for a forest green turtle neck and dark slacks from a store nearby. It's similar to his father's taste in clothes. Shinichi begrudgingly admits he can get around to a maturer style. Megure was very forthcoming about getting him changed out of his sullied jacket and shirt.