Bandaged Man of Mystery

His New Life

If you were to go to The United States of America, specifically to the state of Indiana, you would probably see a young man walking around with a small notepad and a pencil, interviewing random people as they walked along the street. If you happened to talk to this man, he'd first ask for your name to put it on record. Then, he'd ask you if you'd noticed anything strange happen lately, anything you couldn't fully explain.

Now, you had two options: Say you hadn't any idea of what he meant and move on, or try and explain that yesterday you saw a woman disappear into plain sight, only to return moments later with something that doesn't quite fit in with the world.

If you told him this, he'd instantly say something into a walkie-talkie he'd pull from his pocket and then you'd suddenly blink hard and try to remember where you were and why.

So, stranger, now that you know this, what will you do?

~

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Mark asked, entering the air-conditioned office with a small scone in his hand.

"Ah, there you are Twain. Took your sweet time getting here, huh?" The man in the chair asked.

"Sorry Mr. Rulfo, but you know I can't resist the scones from the bakery down the road...." Twain replied, taking a bite.

"So, as I'm sure you've heard, there's been a disturbance," Juan Rulfo started.

"There has? I wasn't told."

"You.... Haven't....?" Rulfo confirmed.

"No, what's going on?" Twain asked, taking another bite of his scone.

"Well, an ability user in Japan turned one of those detective agency members into a child, bringing him from his time to ours," Rulfo explained.

Twain gasped.

"Exactly. And since you used to be with the Guild, who had affairs over there with the mafia and the detectives, we're sending you in to deal with the problem."

"But what about one of the other members who used to be in the guild? I mean, there are others here, after all," Twain pointed out.

"I trust you to do this correctly the most, and Lord knows you could use the vacation."

"I see. Well then, sir, I'll do my best."

"That's a good lad. Now, do you happen to have an extra scone with you?" Rulfo asked.

~

"Really? You're going to Japan on a mission?" Lovecraft asked.

"Yeah, and I was wondering if you wanted anything while I was over there. I know you enjoy reading manga and drinking tea with John's sister, after all," Twain said.

Lovecraft thought for a moment, then asked if Twain could say hello to the mafia and detective agency for him.

"Really? Do you not want anything else?" Twain asked in disbelief.

"Well that and if you see Lucy, can you say hello to her as well. We once had a grand conversation that I will never soon forget."

Twain smiled, slinging a small bag onto his shoulders. "Alright. I will. Oh, and I may bring you a present anyway."

Lovecraft nodded and then went back to work. Twain walked out of the door and headed to the airport nearby.

"Excuse me, sir, but can you stand over here a moment?" Security asked him after he set off the metal detector alarm.

"Sure. I don't understand why that's going off though," Twain said.

The man waved the hand-held detector around his body, looking for whatever caused the alarm to go off.

Around his pocket, the machine started beeping. Twain reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin.

"Oh, I'm sorry about this. I guess it fell out of my pocket."

"It's fine. Just head on through," the security guard demanded.

T

wain walked through the gate and boarded the plane, feeling a bit nervous. The Guild hadn't exactly disbanded on the best terms with the mafia or the detective agency, and what he was supposed to do might upset them.

His job was to interview and monitor any of those involved in this situation, as well as the child themself. (Why is my phone dictionary not counting themself as a word?)

On the plane, he listened to music. He flipped through the many stations, only to find nothing very pleasing. He flipped back through to find a station he hadn't encountered beforehand.

It read 94.3 The Wulf (real station btw) and it was playing a song he knew.

Eventually, he fell asleep. He woke up when he felt someone gently shaking him.

It was a young flight attendant. He bolted up and grabbed his stuff, also managing to bang his head on the bag crate.

"Sir are you ok?!" The woman asked in a panic.

"Yeah, this happens all the time. Sadly," he added, before thanking her and starting to exit the plane.

When he looked at his luggage outside he noticed a small note on it. Reading it, he found that the flight attendant had written her number on there and said "sorry about the head."

He didn't know how to feel, but since he didn't want to be rude and disappoint her, he decided to text her later.

He headed to where he'd been told the detective agency was. When he got there, he found most of the members gone. Only a few had stayed behind.

"Oh, I see. You're here to interview us, right? About what?" A black haired girl in what appeared to be a student uniform asked me.

"Just a-about a child.... T-That's i-it!" He said, panicking at how close the girl had gotten to him.

Another young woman, this one a bit older and a bit more professional, asked if he wanted to wait on the other members to get back.

Instead, he asked where he might find them.

"Sorry, I know it's pretty weird to ask, but I have a lot of people to interview and I don't wanna spend forever here," he said, a few sweat drops present on his face. Then, realizing what he'd said, added, "No offense."

"None taken. Kunikida said they should be here," the black haired student said, pointing to a map.

"Thank you, ma'am," Twain said, taking a picture with his phone.

Then, he left. He hurried as much as he could without tripping. He really didn't like being here with the reputation the Guild had left behind, even if he hadn't been involved with them when they had affairs over here.

When he reached the building, he saw three children running towards it as fast as they could go, all with worried expressions on their faces.

They glanced at him on their way inside but didn't stop.

Twain didn't know who the child was he was looking for, how bad the situation was, or if this place sold scones anywhere, but he knew he shouldn't have taken this job.

Because while his boss had been right about him needing a vacation and this being one, his boss had been wrong about it being to Japan.

This, was a vacation to Hell.

Author's Note:
Day 2 of feeling like trash (except now the trash is on fire)

Indiana weather is horrible on people with allergies.

WC: 1200

Bye Ig