Hagura Inn

Bryan Anderson sat on the tram from Kurunoshi to Segano District. He had two large bags between his legs, but his thoughts were not fawning over what he would make from the ingredients.

People talking on the phone around him; children complaining; lovers kissing; it was suddenly all the same to him. Hardly anything remained of his former life, but he had already realized he had to make a new start. His guardian had taught him well through the years - about economy, however worldly off-put he himself had been -; about love - however stand-offish he himself had been even from his first to last love -; about life’s predicaments and tight turns ... of which he had offered no advice at all, strangely.

Bryan forced air out of a closed mouth, his lips vibrating from the pressure. He looked out the vindow on the trees that flew by and the sky which looked cloudless and serene enough to almost promise another ‘good’ year.

The doors slid open and he stepped out on the platform and headed east toward the complex in which he lived. The brisk wind was poking him in the side of the green jacket and ruffling his short blond hair. The playful demeanor almost felt comforting to Bryan as he strode for the apartment, and a tear piped up in the corner of his eye only to run down his cheek and get swiped off with his hand. Jest the wind, he told himself.

The inside of the apartment was quaint and there was not much more than what would be considered necessary for a man of God and the child he raised through the years. Bryan had known the priest had nly been his guardian for years - he had heard nothing of his parents, and never asked about them.

As he ate the stiff rice and meat balls in the lukewarm sauce and soggy vegetables he looked at the only framed picture in the house with he and his surrogate parent. It had been a highly ill-advised trip for one of them, and Bryan suppressed a snicker at the annoyed expression on the man’s face as he sat by the little boy in the roller-cpoaster cart, arms crossed and glaring at the camera.

It’d been a whole week since then, but his educator was dead - murdered. The perpetraitor had already been caught the following day, but he hadn’t broke until he collapsed on the interrogation table. The forensics had found cyanotopoeia in his system - a drug that supposedly caused not only instant death but wiped one’s entire memory system so the craneurotopsists couldn’t extract suggestions from neither brain nor nerves nor skin. Thet ended up with a completely wiped slate, so to speak, about who this person had been entirely, except for his face. Which had no matches on the Network either. So the case was closed.

However heartless he realized it might seem, Bryan cared nothing for the matter now. His caretaker was gone - that was it. If the Enforcers found need to reopen, fine, he would stay far from this, like a good common citizen of Senai.

He finished reminiscing and tossed the leftovers in the bin, washed the plate and cutlery and went outside.

***

He was walking down a cobbled street, casually looking into shop windows and greeting pendlars half-heartedly as he passed.

Crossing the street to the small enterprise on the other side the door bell rang as he stepped over the threshold. The sweet scent of incense carressed his nostrils, and warmth danced around him like Aborros on Gallos’ Day. He automatically closed his eyes and made a long, sensual and very out-of-character inhale, but had to cough and croak as the fumes clogged his nose.

“You come here to relax, young one?”

Bryan opened his eyes to the voice. They met a man’s in the innermost corner of the place, and first now the boy realized how musty and old-looking the locale turned out. It was a book store, as read the sign outside and which had prompted him to enter, but the sheer quantity of books - which was a frightening amount balancing on thin, rickety shelves - combined with the timid size of the room - which was really more on par with the seems on the outside - might have been enough to turn any bookworm around.

“Sorry, mister, didn’t see ya,” Bryan mumbled, reddened by his unexpected reaction to the book keeper.

“So what’re you looking for, may I ask,” the old one pried curiously.

Because that was what he was - old. Probably in his nineties. He had wrinkly skin, half-moon specs, crescent cut hair and a seemingly toothless smile if he had opened his flabby gums. His eyes were more captivating about him though. They were dark but very kind-looking, as if he was someone torn between two morally fateful decisions in his life.

“Work, mostly,” the boy shrugged. “Just came in here to check the place out. You newly opened? I don’t seem to recall this place...”

“Oh, yes, we moved in last week Or was it two weeks ago...? Hm, no matter. Are you perhaps a bookworm yourself? Or are you looking just to meet new people?” The old man spoke slowly but clearly, as if he wasn’t old nor toothless. Besides, there was somthing about him that Bryan couldn’t specify. His voice? No... His demeanor - they way he spoke - definitely. Reminded him of his former guardian. Which in a way was quite creepy.

“Look, man, I’m just looking for work. I got enough books at home. Know of anything nearby?” He spoke as perusing a nearby shelf, but now he turned around to find the man dancing with a table-top lamp. He stared, but the man just put it down casually and stared at him. Well, it was more of an expecting peering, as it looked like his eyes were closed. He smiled so that all his wrinkles sharpened to twice their previous visibility.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t need any help at the moment, nor do I know of any available spots that need help. You are of course welcome to try them yourself. Sure you’re not looking for books? I have a few I’d heartily recommend to ones such as yourself.” He pulled a couple of copies from behind the counter, as if he had stored them there in anticipation of his visit.

Bryan heaved an eyebrow at the headings, The Land of No and Whispers in the Night: What Lies Beyond. “What are these, some kind of Urban Fantasy novels?” he asked, to which the old man smiled secretively.

“You’ll come to know they’re less Fantasy than you might think ... if they catch your fancy. That’s up to you, Kett.”

‘Kett’?

“Why d’you call me that? My name’s Bryan...”

“Sure, in this place, you’re Bryan Anderson, only child and whose guardian recently passed. I know a great deal about, you see, but what lies beyond the farce - that’s what I’m interested in.”

Bryan frowned, looking intently and suspiciously at the still friendly-looking face. “Think I’ll pass ... on the books, I mean ... thank you,” he added as he had been slowly backing away from the counter.“I’ll go look somewhere else.”

Up the stairs and touching the door handle, his fingers retracted slightly as they came upon a sheet of paper having been rolled and stuck between the handle and the door. Detaching it he looked to the counter, but the geezer and the lamp had danced their way into the storage room in the back. So he pocketed the note and headed outside,where it rained heavily. There was no roof directly over the door, but Bryan noticed a small umbrella leaning against the wall next to the door, with a slip of paper hanging on a thread that was tied around the shaft.

His heart jumed as he read the strange word that the man had told him inside: Kett. He stared at the note from inside, then at the note and unmbrella, then at the door. Trying it to ask what was the meaning of all this or simnply to ask if there had been some mistake - and if he was free to borrow the sorely needed umbrella - but the door was locked. Next to the door was the opening hours: Mon - Fri 09.00-21.00 (“Man, this guy works solo for twelve hours?“) and Sat 10.00-20.00. Sun closed.

Well, he decided as staring intently at the umbrella again as if to find another clue about what was going on, even though it’s kind of screwed up, he DID call me by that name, so why not have an umbrella ready for me from outta nowhere...

With that he put up the umbrella and peered on the note that had been on the door. It showed a huge manor-like building with a enormous front. Above it said: Haguar Inn seeks new management indefinitely. There was a phone number as well as the website for more info on the job as well as the inn. He guessed the address was also on the site because there was nothing on the note. Pocketing it again, he decided he’d ask someone when the time arose for him to apply, if necessary.