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Mamoru appraised his opponent carefully. Michitaka looked annoyingly fresh as a daisy, and more adult than Mamoru felt he could ever hope for. Still, Mamoru thought, he knew a thing or two about minions in secret vigilante societies. More than Michitaka could contend with. He leaned forward, holding up an unflattering snapshot of Nagi.
"In all the time I've known him, he's been polite once. When he was running a temperature of 104F and wanted to thank me for 'hiding the mouse rinds'."
Michitaka slid a photo over the empty, polished desk towards him. He frowned as they both noticed it seemed to be of a blank spot, and produced another, of a formally-dressed Kiyoi.
"He's overly polite all the time, especially when I want to argue, and uses Meiji-era vocabulary to rub it in. It's like talking to a smiling dictionary."
"He's ridiculously aggressive, and I say that as someone who's survived several assassination attempts this year alone. The last assassin ended up spread all over the side of a tower block in a thin red layer. Do you know how much the city council charges to clean those things?"
"He's not aggressive enough. Vampire problems should not be solved by inviting hordes of the creatures round for cakes and a nice little chat. Even if it seems to have worked."
"I gave him a new contract, and he tore it up and summoned a wind to make a little tornado of the fragments on my desk with his mind."
"He drinks human blood."
Mamoru pursed his lips and wondered if he could honourably go on. Bugger, he thought.
"OK, you win this round."
He passed over Nagi's phone number and reluctantly took the card Michitaka held out.
"You're going to regret asking for him to be seconded to you for this job," Mamoru said glumly. "You can't begin to believe how rude he is."
"He doesn't smile all the time, like he's holding a century of experience over your head?" Michitaka said.
" . . . I wouldn't say that'll be a problem," Mamoru said.
"You just wait till you hear the tone of voice you get called Mister in," Michitaka said, almost skipping out the door. "You'll be longing for your surly psychic."
"That's what you think," Mamoru muttered, wondering how best to use a vampire who wasn't allergic to sunlight.