![Moving Out... [Iwamura/Kaen] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
It was early one evening, a few days following his skirmish with Hayate, when Iwamura stood in the spacious, commissioner-style Captain's office of the Seventh Division surveying his partially bare office, a cardboard box on his former desk and another on the floor beside it, both still open; by the end of the day, on decree of the Captain Commander, he was to make his transfer back to the Sixth Division official. Secretly, half-unknown even to himself, he appreciated the serenity that had been lingering in the air since he started packing, perhaps out of relief that for once the standard platitudes and obligatory comments had already been fulfilled.
Most of the items in question were not of particular reverence to him, though for any stranger that may have waltzed in and taken a gander in the boxes, they undoubtedly would have regarded certain objects as unorthodox for the Beastman, if not downright oxymoronic. There were the usual office supplies, bundles of files and reams of paperwork, and a dusting wand, a heavy-duty dog brush, a desk-stash of individually-packaged jerky sticks (courtesy of a certain Eighth Division associate from the Human World), a jar of assorted mini-candies, among others. Yet in the box on top the desk sat a bundle of children's drawings--the result of certain outings into the affluent Rukongai districts--and a clay flower pot, plain in construction with a radius a few inches wider than the size of his palm, housing a small bundle of white anemone and yellow daffodils. He could make out one of the daffodils peeking its blossom over the box's edge, a sight that brought a wistful twinkle to his eye.
'I hope the previous Captain is alright...though...if I'm being completely truthful, I'm not sure why we were swapped around in the first place.'
Iwamura sighed; he strode around the visitor's suave leather sofa and opened the cabinets behind his short-tenured desk, kneeling and beginning to pull miscellaneous items for transport.
Most of the items in question were not of particular reverence to him, though for any stranger that may have waltzed in and taken a gander in the boxes, they undoubtedly would have regarded certain objects as unorthodox for the Beastman, if not downright oxymoronic. There were the usual office supplies, bundles of files and reams of paperwork, and a dusting wand, a heavy-duty dog brush, a desk-stash of individually-packaged jerky sticks (courtesy of a certain Eighth Division associate from the Human World), a jar of assorted mini-candies, among others. Yet in the box on top the desk sat a bundle of children's drawings--the result of certain outings into the affluent Rukongai districts--and a clay flower pot, plain in construction with a radius a few inches wider than the size of his palm, housing a small bundle of white anemone and yellow daffodils. He could make out one of the daffodils peeking its blossom over the box's edge, a sight that brought a wistful twinkle to his eye.
'I hope the previous Captain is alright...though...if I'm being completely truthful, I'm not sure why we were swapped around in the first place.'
Iwamura sighed; he strode around the visitor's suave leather sofa and opened the cabinets behind his short-tenured desk, kneeling and beginning to pull miscellaneous items for transport.
