The call from Nakano came while he was on his way home from shopping. Serizawa stepped away from the train platform, toward the vending machines by a couple of bushes, and answered his phone.
"Good morning," he greeted politely.
"Good morning," Nakano greeted back. "Your results are in."
It'd been days. Communication from Nakano had been concise and rare until then. Serizawa had developed the feeling that when she said it was "complicated," she had been under-exaggerating.
"I'm ready."
"You passed."
He paused. He hadn't been expecting that. The image of Hisako and Sasaki's bodies bleeding and broken while he failed to help haunted him, and the sight of Rao reuniting with his battered clone and collapsing was burned into the back of his eyelids.
"We passed?" he echoed hoarsely.
Nakano hesitated. "Define 'we'."
"We. The team. Us."
"Not all of you passed."
Serizawa's breath caught. "That's why it took so long."
"I can't confirm that which pertains to other examinees' scores."
"Who failed?"
"I can't say that."
"What can you say?"
"I can tell you that I will pick you up today at noon to report for patrol assignment. You and Amajiki's student will be assigned to the same unit for patrol training."
Serizawa smiled weakly. If he had somehow passed, then Hisako must've done so too, he realized.
"And the others?"
"They'll be reporting for remedial training and will be rescheduled to retake the exam with other examinees."
"Thank you for letting me know."
"Be ready. Noon."
"Yes, ma'am."
She hung up.
He took a moment to breathe. He glanced at a nice iced coffee looking at him lovingly from the vending machine, then he looked down at his meager grocery haul, and pushed himself back toward the platform before he got any bad ideas.
The train was just leaving as he arrived, but he wasn't in any rush. He stood by one of the pillars and was ready to pull out his phone when he saw someone emerge from the opposite hall, then duck back into it.
He remembered that person–the one who encouraged him to make a change.
He smiled and began to walk after them. Maybe it was an excuse to be social, but he owed them something nice, and he'd be happy to treat them to a little meal.
He remembered the red muffler and the cool jacket she wore. He remembered the effortless way she carried herself, and the electric smile she offered when he'd meekly told her he had a job and taxes to worry about and had no time for adventure.
Maybe he couldn't tell her about the Doorkeepers and all that, but he could tell her she changed his life that day.
He rounded the corner to the main station floor and paused.
The station was small. There were no pillars to obscure his vision or hallways to fall away into. It was a ceiling, exterior walls, and a few platforms. He looked again, thinking he'd just somehow missed her, but still couldn't find her.
His smile fell. She was just some stranger. It would be weird to invite her for a meal anyway–it'd be creepy and bothersome.
Hisako, on the other hand, was a friend, and she had something to celebrate too. Maybe after the patrol assignment, they could grab a meal and catch up. Serizawa still had to apologize for not being able to heal her.
The station chimed as his train arrived. He snapped out of his musings and hurried back to the platform, groceries bouncing around in his reusable bag.
Yeah, he'd save those for later. He was going to get something out that night, if all went well–and he had a good feeling for once.
When Yukio finally got back from the meetings, Keiko was already elbow-deep in data.
He stepped down into Keiko's workshop and found her glued to her computer screens, managing countless numbers and reports across multiple monitors. The unpainted, white walls were covered in their junk: monitors, reports, graphs, and maps.
"Took you forever," she muttered grumpily, not looking away from her screens.
Yukio slumped into the chair next to her, sighing and eyeing the rays dancing through the ground-level windows above.
The sun was cresting in the sky, casting wavering shadows as the light struggled to reach them through the courtyard grass outside. It made everything in the lab look more ghastly and grim than usual.
"We had to analyze the performance of each examinee individually," Yukio explained. "Each of the mentees had to get involved, and Toshiaki had to get Captain Iwamoto's express approval for the whole thing."
Keiko raised a hand dismissively, silencing him. He pulled his chair closer, rolling roughly over scraps of paper she'd discarded and failed to clean up.
"What do you have?" Yukio asked.
"New confirmed victim to Serial Trapdoorer Chubu-048."
She pushed one of the monitors over to him, and he tapped at it.
A map of Chubu bloomed at his fingertips, pincushioned with location markers, one blinking. They were tightly grouped around a handful of cities, but as he zoomed in, the pattern looked less like a pattern and more like a random web of locations.
He zoomed in even closer, looking at the newest data point–the newest victim.
"Deceased," he read aloud. "The patrol reached the door after the victim had already died in their door."
"She's getting faster, or we're getting slower."
Yukio glanced at Keiko. "If she's getting faster, then she's found a way to detect doors."
"Or what causes them to emerge," Keiko replied.
Yukio fell silent. He and Keiko stared at each other.
"The hunter must know the prey," Keiko reasoned. "But a lone hunter can't figure such intricacies out all on their own."
Yukio took a deep breath and leaned away from the monitor.
"Would you like to start re-evaluating the data for connections between serial Trapdoorers, or shall I?"
"It'll get done if we assign an entire unit to it."
"I'll lead, then. An organization with the resources to research door emergence must be of a significant size. It shouldn't take too long."
Yukio nodded. "In the meantime, what would you like me to do?"
"Run the Division while I'm busy, will you, Yukio?"
Yukio sighed, smiled, and nodded. "Of course, Captain. Don't keep me waiting, please."
Amajiki appeared about an hour and a half into Hisako's second training session with Doorkeeper Kanzaki.
Hisako's eyes strayed from Kanzaki, and the next thing she knew, she was face-first into the rough rubber mats of the Chubu Division Headquarters' sparring gymnasium. Her ankles burned from the leg-sweep she hadn't seen.
She pushed herself up with straining muscles, wiping a layer of sweat and grit from her hands onto her gi and catching her breath.
"You're not good enough to split your attention yet, Mochizuki-san," Kanzaki said.
He wasn't mean about his guidance; everything he said was simple and matter-of-fact. She was finding that to be common amongst the Doorkeepers who offered to train others in their specializations, and she couldn't be more appreciative of that.
She nodded, pulling her eyes away from an amused Amajiki.
"That didn't strain you too much, did it? We can still rewind."
Rewind. She blinked. He'd explained it on day one. He could rewind, like Serizawa, but it was time instead of wounds, and everyone forgot, except him. He said it would help her learn faster if he hit her with his whole strength and just undid the hits.
She shook her head. "I'm okay."
It hadn't hurt that much, but it did make her realize how tired she was. He gave her a once-over, then nodded.
"Stretch for a moment," he told her, and walked over to Amajiki at the edge of the mats.
Hisako took a deep breath, then slowly began the long sequence of stretches Medical had prescribed.
As she stretched, her scars showed. The tiger and her own door had left their mark on her body–fine silver lines from wounds carefully stitched. They were minor and forgettable, like cuts and little burns from her previous job.
The exam had left more internal marks. Though they were quickly healed and minimized by the power of the Medical Division's work on her, she still felt the phantom of the breaks, sprains, and bruises like a blade over her neck. Her body would burn if she pulled it in the wrong direction too quickly, and her bones ached when she took a blow too hard.
Whatever conversation the two Doorkeepers had been having ended, and Kanzaki returned. She lifted her gaze, curious but patient.
"We've got a few more minutes. Amajiki-san wants to see some progress, so prepare yourself."
Hisako nodded and adjusted her hand wraps, ensuring that they were still snug and properly positioned. Kanzaki reached out, and they tapped knuckles. Immediately, they began circling each other.
Hisako's eyes flitted about. The training she'd already been given pulsed through her mind.
Legs, feet, hips, arms, head, eyes, and the center line. She struggled to focus on all of it at once.
Kanzaki took a crooked step, setting himself on an off-foot and opening up his center line for a blink. Hisako's heart lurched, and her body ached to twitch forward in attack, but she stamped down the feeling.
Kanzaki smirked.
Relief washed over her. It had been a trap, and she hadn't fallen for it.
"Don't be reactive," Kanzaki warned. "If you let me go first, I'll juggle you."
Hisako tested the waters with a sharp jab at Kanzaki's head, aiming for the side not guarded by his back hand. Kanzaki blocked easily, pulling back his forearm to intercept her, and Hisako threw a kick, twisting her hips to generate power from a static stance.
Kanzaki ducked, both hands rising to guard his head, and Hisako jumped, throwing her back leg low. Her front leg touched back down, and she twisted again to push more power into her low kick.
The Doorkeeper half-stood, blocking her kick with a shin, probably hurting Hisako more than himself with the block, and then threw a hand up, stopping just before her jaw to tap it. Hisako's hands were nowhere near close enough to her skull to block the hit, had it been strong enough–Hisako knew in her bones that he'd rewound.
"Good move, but if you ignore defense in favor of a good attack, a more experienced or durable fighter will beat your brakes off."
Hisako nodded, stepping back.
"Do you feel it yet?"
She paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, feeling out her stance. "I'm not sure."
He raised a shoulder just a fraction, and Hisako's body instinctively shifted, raising an elbow to prepare for a strike that didn't come. The strange feeling she'd seen him do it before made her hold her guard warily.
Kanzaki laughed warmly. "Only day two, very good! You're feeling it."
"Déjà vu."
Amajiki had managed to creep up to the edge of their circle. His shoes were carefully placed at the end of the room, just off the mats.
Hisako stepped back a bit, opening up a safe distance between herself and Kanzaki. She wouldn't get distracted by Amajiki again, but she couldn't completely tune him out.
"She's a fast learner," Amajiki boasted. "I told you. She may not know it, but she is."
Kanzaki shifted a foot forward, and Hisako twitched again.
Amajiki grinned. "She's ready for patrol. Do you agree?"
Instead of an answer, Kanzaki finally made the move. He darted forward in one swift movement, and a right hook flashed out. Her body recoiled. Instead of blocking the attack, she dropped, but the action was purely defensive.
As she went down, she decided to act. Her leg flew out, going for a sweep. She put the appropriate power into it, but she was already thinking two steps ahead, expecting Kanzaki to dodge.
He did, hopping her leg with ease and flashing back as she rose into her stance again. Before he could find his balance, she struck forward with a fist, then spun to deliver an elbow. He blocked both, but she was close enough–
She grabbed him by his belt and, with a quick shift in her stance, began to lift him. He fought it, hands flying out to stay upright and in a stable stance, and they were deadlocked in twin grabs.
Hisako knew she'd found herself in checkmate. If he threw her down, he'd win, and if she somehow threw him down, she wouldn't know the first move to make.
"Okay." Amajiki called it with a clap. "I've seen enough."
Hisako released Kanzaki, and he released her.
"I'd be happy to take her on as a regular student," Kanzaki said.
Hisako bowed. "Thank you."
"You have good instincts," Kanzaki said. "I did not explain my ability earlier. I simply told you I rewound time and would do so to prolong our fights–that you would forget–, but I did not explain that the body does not forget.
"Your eyes have begun to recognize my tells, and your body has begun to react." He tapped a sweaty temple. "You have a mind for combat strategy, I see that. We will turn you into a great Doorkeeper."
Amajiki nodded proudly. "This one is off for her first patrol."
"Patrol?" It was just starting to sink in that Amajiki had mentioned "patrol" several times. "I'm going on patrol?"
"You are ready," Amajiki confirmed. "Briefing will be in a few hours."
She tilted her head. "I'm a Doorkeeper?"
Kanzaki cuffed Amajiki playfully on the back of the head. "Mochizuki-san, you've been a Doorkeeper since you stepped into my gym. The decision was made earlier today."
Hisako couldn't help but laugh with delight. She hadn't seen the others since the end of the exam. She and Serizawa still had to have a conversation about how capable they felt about being Doorkeepers.