Work Text:
An office is only as good as how tidy it is, and if Susato had to describe the state of her father’s office, it could only be described as a travesty. Her father’s long nights researching exotic poisons from far off places and the rush to meet government-imposed deadlines had pulled him away time and time again recently.
That’s not to say she would consider her father a messy person – he was a Mikotoba after all. Cleanliness flowed through their blood. Susato came to learn just how meticulous and tidy her father was when he returned from London those long 8 years ago. Much more than Obaa-san had ever been, Susato was surprised to learn. Sometimes though, when the stress of work got to him, her father let his good habits slip.
But it was no matter, Susato was more than pleased to assist him.
Dust collected and tossed outside, and the floor swept, Susato’s eyes spotted a book haphazardly placed on the side table by the window. How strange, she thought, father normally didn’t leave things placed so uncaringly. He must have been pulled away unexpectedly to leave it like that.
While picking up the book, she also picked up a scrap of wrinkled paper that hid underneath it and placed it between the open pages to mark the spot her father was on. It would be terribly rude to make her father search to find his reading spot. After being satisfied, she looked at the cover. A magazine – not a book – and in English! The Randst Magazine, to be precise. She skimmed the magazine cover and headlines, proud to find she could understand nearly every word. ‘Randst’ however, made her pause. She would have to look it up in her dictionary later.
How charming, she thought, someone must have been sending magazines to her father! Maybe this was a magazine he made the habit of reading on his study tour.
Curiosity getting the best of her, it was a British literary magazine after all and no risk of reading her father’s confidential information, she opened the magazine to the place her father had the magazine open to. The crumpled paper she had left as a bookmark caught her attention first.
It was a piece of paper that had many dark stains, probably tea, Susato assumed. The paper looked like it had been balled up then uncreased multiple times. There was also handwriting scribbled on it, but in some of the messiest English script she had ever seen.
“I do truly believe you will enjoy this, Mikoto-“
Immediate recognition that she was looking at a letter – private correspondence! – sent a feeling of shock coursing through her, and she pulled the page away before she could read anymore. Shame overtook her, she should have known better there could have been correspondence addressed to her father, if the magazine came all the way from London. She felt thankful she didn’t read more of it and had learned nothing from it. Prying eyes never leads to anything good.
However, who on earth would have sent a letter in such a poor state to her father? She was certain her father wasn’t the one who left it in that state of disrepair. She wished she could travel to England to berate whoever had given it to her father, they needed to learn from their errors. Letters deserved care and attention, especially ones that required a two-month voyage to reach its intended recipient.
However, what she did read raised her curiosity of the magazine pages she held. What from London would have been exciting enough her father had to read it?
“The Adventures of Herlock Sholmes,” Susato read the title aloud, trying the words out like how you would savor the aroma of a new tea blend before tasting it for the first time.
The title seemed interesting enough, so she began.
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“My dear, what are you doing?”
Susato was only half aware someone was speaking to her, but she couldn’t pull her out of the engrossing world she had entered. Herlock Sholmes and John Wilson, what a pair! A European King! And that woman, Irene Adler! Disguises, intrigue, mystery – it was all so fascinating! What was Herlock Sholmes going to discover about Miss Adler? She had to read more; she had to know what happened next!
If spoken words couldn’t pull her away from the story, the pressure of her father’s hand on her shoulder brought her out of the moment.
“Susato, my dear, what are you reading?” Her father asked, “You know I have some classified information in here, you should be careful.”
“My apologies, father.” Susato bowed, “Nothing classified, I believe, but I was reading this,” She closed the magazine, her hand keeping her place, and showed her father the cover.
“This story about an English detective is fantastic, I couldn’t stop!”
Any frustration on her father’s face evaporated immediately. He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in a way that Susato knew meant he was genuinely amused. “The Great Herlock Sholmes, huh. Who knew he would end up in a magazine?”
“End up in a magazine? Does that mean he is a real person, father?” Susato asked. His words sparked her imagination. Could someone as dashing and cunning as Herlock Sholmes really exist?
“Oh yes! He is more than real. Not a soul in London doesn’t know of the detective Herlock Sholmes. He has so many famous cases – ‘The Boscombe Valley Mystery’, ‘The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle’, ‘The Five Orange Pips’ –“ her father continued rambling on a list of adventures and mysteries, enough to make Susato’s head spin.
It was strange, Susato thought, her father never rambled on about things like this. He was normally composed and restrained in the things he enjoyed. She felt a wave of appreciation that she could learn something new like this about her father.
“There are honestly too many cases to name, and all of that was when I lived in London. I’m getting ahead of myself, though,” he said.
Her father laughed, staring at the magazine in reverence. She could see stars glinting in his eyes. This Herlock Sholmes fellow’s stories must have been quite something for him to leave such an impact on her father. This was definitely something special.
“He must be a great detective if you admire him so much,” Susato said.
Her father looked up at her, the look on his face took on an expression she had never seen on him before. A softness played in his eyes and in his smile that made him look nearly a decade younger, for if only a second.
“Only the greatest detective in the world, my dear.”
Left inspired by her father’s words, she was even more excited to continue reading the adventure. In fact, she began hoping that all the stories her father had mentioned would one day get published. She needed to continue…
But she needed the magazine to do that, and Susato realized that her father still hadn’t let go of it. His grip almost began to wrinkle the precious pages. He stared at it as if the magazine held a treasure he thought he lost forever ago. Maybe, Susato thought, there was a better way to read these stories.
“Father,” she asked, “would you like to read it, together? From the beginning?”
Her father looked up at her and nodded with a smile Susato thought was brighter than the sun itself.
“It would be my pleasure, my dear.”