Chapter Text
It is a talent to look at something and have a rough idea of what that something really is.
This may seem incredibly obvious to some. After all, a dog is a dog. A leaking faucet is a leaking faucet. A well-to-do man’s villa near Lake Michigan is a site of sinister Black Magic rituals and a beautiful redhead with milky pale skin is in fact a horrible vampire creature looking to gnaw your face off.
See what I mean?
Of course, I’m being a little unfair here. The two latter examples come from the supernatural side of the tracks, where vanilla mortals doth not go. Nothing in their life can prepare them for the first crash with things that go bump in the night, and they are lucky to survive such an encounter. More often than not, they do not learn from their mistakes. Humans have an amazing ability to deny that which has no logical basis, even if it’s right in front of them – which does hurt a business when you advertise as the only wizard in Chicago’s yellow books.
However, there’s plenty of examples even among the mundane that are something else than they present themselves to be. Mushrooms, for example; there’s that one mushroom in the west of the country, a Pacific amanita. It looks nice, it’s quite edible, and it is frequently mistaken with its cousin, amanita phalloides – better known as a deathcap, one of the most poisonous mushrooms in the world. If you’re not a forest-goer, then you can look for other things; fake leather, strange bruises that most definitely don’t come from falling down a flight of stairs, something that might be amphetamine but is in actuality just some flour a silly wizard spilled around to trap a ghost haunting the premises.
Cough cough.
Most people don’t have to worry too much about such things, but as a private investigator slash wizard, this went double for me instead – and right now, approaching the doors of my office and seeing two people there, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. I could see a vague resemblance between their faces, likely a relation of some kind… but that was it, and that immediately set my internal alarm off.
The girl stuck out much more. A teenager, but a tall one, averaging six feet or so; blond hair the color of sun-kissed wheat with black tufts hiding here and there, two red clips, hair at chin-length, piercing green eyes. She bobbed on the balls of her feet nervously, clearly not wanting to be here. An understandable sentiment; if someone was coming to me, they were either looking for a laugh or they were truly desperate. And, well, call me a chauvinist, but a woman in need of help is one of those things that immediately set off my chivalric instincts. She dressed unassumingly, in a puffy sweater and a pair of baggy jeans, but it did little to actually hide her body shape. She could easily pass for someone a decade older if she had more confidence, which was sorely lacking.
In comparison, the boy looked much younger than her; twelve? Maybe ten years old? He was the one at ease, brown hair and eyes in a friendly but professional look. For some reason, I thought of Marcone – which was never good in a context of meeting new people. The kid definitely looked like someone dressed him up for some gala, all well-ironed shirt, suspenders, a big suitcase…
Who was I looking at here? They weren’t mere pranksters, they wouldn’t just differ so much in demeanor. If they were assassins – another thing ordinary Joes don’t have to worry about, I groused to myself – then they weren’t exactly sneaking around. They must have been clients , but a pair of kids approaching a man of vaguely dubious reputation like myself meant something truly heinous was afoot – which clashed with the boy’s relaxed stance and smile .
Well… empirical evidence was the name of the game. “ Weird place to get lost in, I’ll admit.” I said, approaching the two. The girl squeaked like a toy, looking at me nervously – and then looking up with widening eyes. She was pretty tall even with a hunched back, but I had her safely beat at almost seven feet myself. As this was an ordinary day for a change, with no plots to end the world, I only had my duster and shield bracelet on, but that probably added to the overall impression.
The kid next to her smiled and nodded, looking utterly nonplussed . “I think we’re exactly where we need to be. Mister Dresden, I presume?” He spoke with an accent, something from Asia that I couldn’t quite place. It was a minor thing compared to his very “relaxed professional” tone and inflection, filtered through a voice of a prepubescent child.
“Uh-huh. And you kids are?”
“Mashiro Torasawa, at your humble service.” The kid bowed, perfect form and back straighter than a ruler. Japanese then. “This is my younger sister Aiko.” Once he straightened up, he gestured for the big girl who jumped in her spot again and mimicked the bow.
...wait.
“...younger…?” I found myself uttering before I could stop myself.
“I’m often told I have a boyish face.” Torasawa smiled as if this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“You are the size of an eight-year-old.”
“I’m thirty five, actually.” I stared, gears in the brain screeching to a halt. “I do have an ID with me, of course. It’s always a hassle; every establishment keeps carding me…” He slipped a wallet out of his shirt and handed me two pieces of plastic. One looked to be a Japanese citizen’s ID card (unfortunately, I wasn’t fluent to recognize more beyond the numbers next to the presumed date of birth – this kid was older than me?!), and the other was instead a company identification.
TORASAWA, MASHIRO
HEAD OF SECURITY
KODAMA CORP.
If, and it was becoming a really huge “if”, this really was a prank, then someone out there had way, way more money than sense. “...well… forgive for being a little suspicious.” I grumbled, handing the cards back to the kid.
“It’s no trouble. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule.” Torasawa smiled impishly. “And I imagine you wouldn’t appreciate us breaking into your working space.” That would make me quite cross. Last time someone did that, it was a flippin’ Faerie Queen looking to hire me, and I didn’t appreciate it either. Muttering my apologies I shuffled past them and unlocked the doors to my little corner office, letting the two kids (and I will keep calling that prepubescent thirty-five-year-old such, thanks much) in.
My office was a fairly small affair, since most of the space was taken up by my neighbors from the consulting firm, tucked in a corner of the floor. The ceiling fan groaned imperiously, struggling with its duties. Some leaflets were placed on the table next to the door, a sort of 101 for the uninitiated as far as magic went; most of them were written down by yours truly. An old coffee machine stood in the background, among cabinets and unlit kerosene lamps . It used to look much worse recently; I was not in the best state of mind at the time, and some kicks in the pants were needed to get me back on the straight-and-narrow.
I dared to say it wasn’t the worst place to be in; the tidyness definitely helped sell the impression that I was a professional and not some crook looking to dupe gullible people.
“Please, have a seat. Coffee?” I asked the two.
“No, thank you.” Torasawa looked around the office with a cool look, assessing the surroundings. Next to him, his sister shook her head with a little sound. “It doesn’t look too bad.”
“If only the rent wasn’t so high.”
“Always an issue for independent contractors, isn’t it?” He chuckled, the corporate rat. I cleared my throat, hoping I wasn’t looking too irritated at the moment. Some of that irritation bled over to some of my wizard peers. Generally speaking, most practitioners on that level were fairly well-to-do – but that came at a cost of living isolated lives, satisfied with their wealth and not really applying their powers for better purposes.
The life that I was living wasn’t the best. I would find it quite rough even without an entire Vampire Court looking to turn me into a piece of Swiss cheese – but it was right . With great power comes great responsibility, and I was determined to do my best with both of these things.
...although, I would appreciate a lull period where some giant supernatural thug isn’t trying to turn my spine into an accordion.
“To brass tacks then.” Torasawa nodded, reclining idly in the chair. Next to him, Aiko tried and failed to make herself look as small as humanly possible. The furnishing underneath her creaked in protest. “Mister Dresden, you mention in the flier that you conduct “paranormal investigations”, yes?” He asked, gesturing with the leaflet.
“That’s right.”
“What does that entail, specifically?” Hm. Good question, actually. Most of my clients generally wouldn’t go too far into the philosophy of my work; they wanted something found (most commonly) or some questions answered. If I were to guess, Torasawa was looking to gauge how professional I actually was. It would behoove me to answer the query to the best of his ability. Helping people is nice, but I still had bills to pay – and some corporate bigshot likely had money to offer.
“In the most general understanding, such an investigation would be for anything that has no mundane explanation.” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. Torasawa didn’t rush me, at least, but some of my focus was lost still; his sister kept squirming on the chair like it was on fire. “Strange sounds. Things that don’t look like they belong. Unexplained feats some people just seem capable of.”
“Let’s focus on the third one, please.” Oho. Magical talent generally did not manifest in adults, so the person of interest must have been Aiko. Mid teenaged years was still fairly late though… which could mean something else, and I thought I had a general idea of what that could be. “My sister here – say hi, Aiko-”
“おはようございます !” The girl squeaked and blurted out a greeting. I blinked. Torasawa sighed and patted her on the shoulder. Aiko reflected, eyes fluttering around in growing panic. “I m-m-m-mean good morning!” Her accent was much thicker than her brother’s; I assumed she wasn’t the best at using English as well.
“Aiko exhibits some strange powers that I would like investigated – and with them, who these powers might have come from.”