Chapter Text
Holland sits in his car.
He isn’t unused to traffic within the wee timeframe of 7:00 to 8:00 AM, but it’s worse today. Here in Tokyo, he’s noticed that he’s stopped on the way to work a lot more often because of…… superhero V supervillain induced fights.
It was… still sort of crazy. He frowns up at the sky as two super powered …people…? zip around the tops of buildings like flies. His fingers impatiently drum the wheel, and the music on his radio is suddenly interrupted. He feels more irritated at that than the traffic-halting fight happening in the sky. His eyes jump to the radio, fingers flying to the knob to change the station.
“This just in, downtown Shinjuku is experiencing a fight between the notorious Roadrunner and-”
He flicks the radio knob so it changes back to music, sighing back towards the sky.
One of them is straight up flying, and the other seems to be running at supersonic speeds up the side of the skyscrapers that line the cityscapes. Holland isn’t even really sure why this is holding up traffic, as cool looking as it is- it’s in the sky.
But he realizes, shit, if he’s gonna be late to work he might as well claim he was working early. As a photographer, this is probably prime real estate for his company.
He reaches into the backseat, grabs his chunky camera, and shuffles back into the driver's seat- raises it to his eye, views it through the screen as he messes with the settings. He tilts it up and leans closer to the windshield until his chest is pressed to the dash of his car, zooming in closer until he sees the fight a little more clearly. The one running up the sides of the buildings was undoubtedly Roadrunner, a hero that was famously impossible to get a clear shot of just due to how fast he is. Holland still can’t capture him fully, nor can he focus on the villain he’s fighting, but he centers the camera’s gaze on the two when they get close enough to collide midair- his finger hovers over the button, then-
A loud honk from the car behind him makes him drop his camera into his lap. With a hiss of pain, he- with bleary eyes- checks his rear view mirror, and then looks ahead. Oh, good. Traffic has moved one foot forward.
---
He charges through the big duo glass doors of The Tokyo Sun Newspaper, jogging past the front desk. His friend Atsuko, who works there most days, sends him a knowing look. Holland slows only slightly to throw a “sorry, running late!” their direction. Usually he’ll stop and chat with them, wasting most of his time and racking up that sweet sweet hourly pay until someone needs him to go take a picture of something, but now is not the time.
He ducks and weaves between people until he nears his boss’ office, stopping in front of the door to take a few composing breaths. His hand curls around the copper knob and twists, the door creaks open, and Holland steps into the tight room.
Ai Saihara is a scary man. No, seriously. Holland feels bothersome for even coming into this office. He can be kind with his words, but generally he’s no nonsense.
“Yo, Mr. Saihara…” he says, navigating around papers strewn about on the floor in what looked like a stress induced fit. He glances over them before sitting down at the desk, which is stacked high with more papers. Mr. Saihara looks up from his computer, closing it with a sigh.
“Just Ai is fine. You don’t need to suck up to me because you’re a half an hour late.”
“...Ahhh, okay, so about that-”
Holland presses the ends of both pointer fingers together, trying to look innocent.
“There was a fight happening downtown between Roadrunner and, uh, well- someone else for sure. Anyway, I got stuck in traffic.”
“I know about that.”
“Okay. Right, duh. I.. didn’t get a picture, I’m sorry. I know that’s kind of my whole thing.”
“Holland,” he says, boring his steely golden eyes into Holland’s soul, “You’re fine. You weren’t on the clock. But now you are.”
They open their laptop again, shifting their focus from Holland to the screen.
“There’s a job for you. Are you okay going with Oma?”
Oh, god. Holland is hit with flashbacks to last year’s holiday party. The gingerbread incident…
He narrows his eyes in thought. He is extremely late, so just accepting the job is the best thing he can do…
“Sure.. yeah, where are we going?”
“I’ve been told there’s a potential lead on the Household of Hanamatsu situation from an insider at Club Spirits. Down in Kabukicho. You’ll try to get as many pictures of the interior of the club as possible. Misoka’s in charge of interrogation.”
He slides across some sort of I.D card, which Holland picks up and assesses.
“Our insider managed to get us these entry passes.”
Household of Hanamatsu, the latest group of minor league supervillains. Holland himself is sort of interested in the concept behind them- occult themed villains?- but The Tokyo Sun hasn’t gotten much on them in the past few months they’ve been active around Tokyo. This could be big.
“Why me?” he asks, looking up from the card.
Ai leans back into their chair.
“I trust you. Is that hard to believe?”
“Kinda.”
“I can put someone else on the job.”
“Nono, I can handle it..”
Holland slides the card into his button up’s breast pocket, then stands, readjusting his camera bag on his shoulder.
“Thanks. I’ll go find Oma.”
“It should be at the van rental area.”
Holland turns on his heels to leave, giving Ai a brief salute in acknowledgement.
---
Holland and Oma are driving to Club Spirits, with Holland driving the van- a blank one without their company logo on the side so they can stay lowkey- when he glances at it from the corners of his eyes. It’s looking out the window as he drives. He thinks back to the holiday party. God, the gingerbread incident. Holland is never sure what to think of Oma- it can be a little eclectic. It seems to like Holland well enough, but he’s still unclear- how do you read someone shoving an entire gingerbread man down your mouth during a company Christmas party?
It can get snappy, defensive, withdrawn- and in the same breath, it can be chatty and social again like nothing ever happened. One thing is for sure- its work ethic is passionate, bold, sometimes aggressive. It used to work in the criminal illustration department of The Tokyo Sun until its creativity was needed in the investigative journalism scene, and sure, Holland can admit that he can’t come up with workarounds to getting information like Oma can. Somehow, it always seems to pry information from whoever it needs to. This is the first time they’ve worked together directly like this… he’s sort of interested in seeing it in action.
He clears his throat, turning his full attention back to the road.
“You okay?” he asks, trying to stir up casual conversation. Even if he’s feeling uncertain, he doesn’t want that energy to bleed onto Oma before a big job like this.
It looks away from the window, smiling at him in a way he didn’t fully expect.
“Yeah. I’m kind of excited!”
“Oh. Yeah. Let’s hope it’s not haunted, right?”
He smiles at his own joke, eyes flashing over to see Oma’s reaction. It’s face has gone blank.
“Um-” he fumbles to explain, “Because.. Club Spirits?”
“Uh huh.”
“Y..yeah. That’s- yeah, it wasn’t that funny.”
As he chuckles awkwardly, it claps, letting out a laugh that almost makes Holland swerve. After taking a breath, he looks over at it giggling softer now in the passenger seat.
“I’m just messing with you! Come on. I mean, it wasn’t that funny, but I got it.”
“Thanks…” he breathes out, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he turns back to the road. They slow down as they pull into the club’s lot- so much for normal small talk.
The two get out of the van and head toward the club’s entrance together. Upon flashing their cards from Ai to the man at the front door of the club, they’re granted entry- so weird. Did they not need to show their actual IDs? What was this place?
Feeling more unsure, Holland keeps his hand on the strap of his bag once they’re inside. It’s dimly lit- candles light up wall sconces and there’s faint, vintage lamps buzzing a warm orange above. It reminds Holland of a speakeasy.
“Okay,” Oma says, stopping walking to face him. “Let’s split up! We’ll get more if we’re separate.”
“Maybe, but-”
Holland watches with his jaw only slightly dropped as it completely turns away and happily strides further into the building. It knows that this place has ties to literal criminals, right…?
Holland looks around, lost on where to start. He knows his way around a creepy building, but he’d really hoped that having Oma there to talk to people would distract them long enough for him to snap some pictures.
“Yoo-hoo!”
He hears a sing-songy voice from nearby, and when he looks, he sees a bartender behind a slick cherry colored wooden bar. Holland looks behind himself, then back to the bartender- making sure they weren’t addressing someone else.
“Yes, you! Allow me to prepare you a drink, dear soul!”
Oh god…
Holland reluctantly heads over so he doesn’t seem suspicious- after all, he’s supposed to be a regular customer here. He sits at the bar, hiding his camera bag from view.
“Greeeetings and salutationssss!”
The bartender leans forward across the bar, giving Holland a glistening smile.
“GYAHAH!! I’m so happy, why you’re my first customer of the day!! I shall HAPPILY conjure whatever you would like! Or perhaps you’d like a recommendation- my taste is IMMACULATE after all! Yes, yes!”
Holland is blown away by their energy to the point where he needs to take a second to think of a response.
“Wow- haha, okay, man. What’s your recommendation?”
“MY RECOMMENDATION! AH! I’m so glad you asked. This is by far the BEST smelling drink I’ve ever created! It’s a healthy mix of standard shochu, a pinch of cherry syrup, the yeasty liquid in which I believe they call ‘Beer’” - and the bartender stops to make quotations around beer, what the hell?- “Some chocolate daiquiri, pineapple juice, condensed milk AND! Lastly but most importantly, one of these little umbrellas they’ve given me to put on the top of the drinks.”
“How's it… taste?”
They place a finger on their chin in a display of cartoonish thought.
“I’m not sure! Nobody has ever ordered it, GAH! What a shame… You’ll be the first!!”
Holland raises his hands up in defense, shaking his head urgently.
“No, no, that’s- you know what? I’m okay. I- it’d really just be a waste on me, my flavor palette isn’t acquired enough to appreciate that. Can I just get, like, a hard cider?”
“Oh.. very well then. OFF I GO!”
They turn around and get to work behind the bar, leaving Holland slightly discombobulated. He watches them carefully. This bar works with the Household of Hanamatsu… but how much? Do they just come here for fun? Is it run or funded by them? He’d try to figure out a way to ask, but he isn’t the savviest with these things like Oma is. He’s far more confident talking online than in person and he’s well aware of that, he’s like stutter city over here. He turns on his swivelling barstool, trying to see where Oma even ran off to. In the darkness of the club it’s impossible to tell.
As he squints into the darkness a glass slams down onto the counter behind him. He jumps in his own skin before swivelling back around.
“..Thanks.”
The bartender leans across the counter again, resting their head in their hands and watching him. Under the candlelight, their eyes sparkle in a way that feels mischievous.
“Of course!! But do keep in mind, there’s about a fifty-fifty chance of it being poisoned!”
Holland is unsure what to say until they flash him a wink. Oh, okay. Right. He takes the cider and has a slight sip to satiate them, nothing crazy, since he needs to drive them back. When he sets the glass down, he notices that the bartender is still watching him.
“Now- I will present you an opportunity to offload any issues you may be having onto me!” they say, standing up straighter and flattening their hands to the counter.
“Oh, well- thank you? That’s.. Nice.”
“It’s just part of my job!! Not just here, but in this world!”
They smile wider, looking away from Holland as they seemingly get lost in thought.
“...Yesss… recreational activities such as drinking are meant to ease the troubles of the soul!! Why not pair it with my own aid? I am an EXPERT at helping ease the body and the mind. So please, please!! Take full advantage of my talents, soul! Do you find yourself needing guidance today?”
Easing the soul? This guy was spiking Holland’s adrenaline from the sheer energy they were exuding.
But... this could be a good way to get some questions in. Maybe this was the opener to the questions Holland wanted to ask. He thinks over how to phrase them. Maybe this is overstepping, asking questions wasn’t his job… but that didn’t stop him from being curious.
“I guess I’m just sorta curious… about you?”
He offers a smile. He might not be an excellent smooth talker, but he’s lied enough to authority to make him feel like he can pull it off here.
“Since I’m new around here. I just wanna get to know the regular staff.”
“About ME!”
They clap their hands together cheerfully.
“Of course you would like to know. My bodily name is Tsuneoki Kitan- my job here is exactly as you see it.”
“And that’s being… a bartender slash therapist?”
“By day! GYAHAH!!”
They let out a laugh that booms across the room. The wording of the phrase makes Holland think.
“You’re not a bartender by night?” he asks, taking another tiny sip from his glass. “I would’ve thought that’s when people need the most… uh.. Guidance.”
“Hummm…. Perhaps, but regardless, we’re closed at night!”
That’s weird. That’s definitely weird, right? Holland doesn’t go out drinking a lot, but it feels like common knowledge that bars are open late. People love to go out after work.
“Huh, gotcha. Sorry. I forgot.”
“Fear not, dear soul. Finicky human brains have a tendency to forget! Especially with alcohol, so I’ve heard.”
They nudge toward Holland’s glass with an elbow while Holland tries to grapple with what that means.
“ ‘So you’ve heard..?’ ”
He asks, trying not to seem outwardly confused.
Tsuneoki nods.
“I do not drink. It’s not something I desire. I find little interest in mortal pleasures, you see! I think I get on quite alright!”
Holland really can’t tell if this guy thinks they’re above normal fun things people like, if they’re trying to make some sort of grand statement about humanity as a whole, or if they’re genuinely a little nutty. Before he can question it further, a hand grasps his shoulder. He jumps again, letting out a soft sigh when Oma sits down on the bar stool next to him. It smiles, then looks towards Tsuneoki.
“Hi!”
“Ah! Hello there!! ANOTHER CUSTOMER!! How wonderful, you are to tell me what you wish to drink!”
“Oh, no, I’m good. What are we talking about?”
It gives Holland a glance, and that jumpstarts his brain- shit, he was here to take pictures. He stands, clearing his throat.
“I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta- use the bathroom. Where is the bathroom around here, boss?”
Tsuneoki leans fully across the bar now as they get on their tiptoes to point across the span of the entire room.
“Just back there over yonder! Safe travelllsssssss!”
“Thanks. It shouldn’t be too hard,” he offers, barely looking at either of them as he walks off. When he’s out of earshot he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. But he wasn’t in the clear yet- there were still pictures to be taken. He walks through the scarcely populated lounge area and ducks into a dark hallway that advertises a bathroom somewhere.
In the privacy of this hallway, Holland retrieves his phone from his bag and snaps a few pictures of the bathroom doors. He glances over his shoulder back into the main room, trying to discern if anyone’s watching him, before snappily raising his phone and taking a quick photo of the main lounge area from where he’s standing in the bathroom hallway. It’s not a full shot of the bar, but it’s the best he’s gonna do without being spotted by anyone. He takes a look over the photo to make sure it isn’t blurry.
“No phones allowed.”
Holland’s entire body freezes. He swallows, lowers his phone, clicks the screen off.
Who. In the actual fuck.
He shoves it into his pants pocket, turning around reluctantly to see who exactly is telling him off. There’s a spirit-like figure standing in the darkness behind him- how did he not hear them come up behind him?!- they look terrifying in the dim light, dressed up in black and white, almost nun looking robes. Long blonde hair spills out from their hood, which cloaks their face in a way that can only be described as menacing. They tilt their head up just slightly to meet his eyes, and Holland catches a glimpse of dark blue eyes.
“I- shit. That’s– that was a misclick. A,, I was trying to see if I had anything on my- face-”
What an awful lie. The person doesn’t seem amused, so Holland steps backwards.
“Language,” they say.
Holland’s heart pounds.
“Noted.”
He clicks his tongue, flashes her some awkward finger guns, then turns around to power walk back through the building.
“It- won’t happen again!” he blurts out as he leaves, not looking back.
Oma and Tsuneoki are talking about something, but Holland doesn’t care, coming up behind Oma to shake its shoulder.
“Hey- hey, Oma? Yo, dude, I think we’ve gotta go.”
He looks toward Tsuneoki, panics internally, then offers- “Stomach troubles. You know how it is.”
Oma looks past Holland and seems slow to respond, but does stand up.
“Kay. Well, this was fun! Chat later.”
“FAREWELL friends!! Come back anytime if clarity is what you seek! Or alcohol! I have been told to primarily sell the alcohol! But DO keep that in mind!”
“Yeah, for sure man-” Holland rushes out, letting go of Oma’s shoulder to lead it out of the bar. He tries not to look panicked as they both rush past the bouncer at the front door and back into the van.
He takes a deep breath as he settles into the driver's seat. His hands fly to his pant pocket to make sure his phone is still there.
“Ominous looking nun woman?” Oma asks, nodding knowingly.
“Wha- is that what that was?”
He looks it over, nodding absently.
“How did you know?”
“Just had a feeling.”
It hums, relaxing into its seat.
“Well? Let’s go. Gotta let the boss know we flubbed it.”
At that beautiful reminder, Holland’s head gently bumps the steering wheel. He shoves the van key into the ignition and groans. There was only one thing worse than getting caught taking pictures inside of an alleged supervillain lair, and that was disappointing his boss for the second time this afternoon.
What a day.
