Oh, I skipped a very important detail - what happened to Clara?
"What about my daughter?"
The word 'daughter' still sounds strange when I say it.
"I hired a caretaker to look after her."
The calm, its-no-big-deal way he responds makes me rest the full intensity of my killer glare on him.
"How did you find-"
"Relax, it was in your pocket. Someone hadto do it. Don't worry, she's in safe hands".
"Where...did you put her?"
"I got a little apartment and brought in a government-recommended caretaker. I have arranged for a monthly sum to be sent to her as well".
I take it all in.
"Thanks, but I did not ask you to use your own money to-"
"Hold it there, big guy. You're the one paying for it".
I want to punch him in the face so bad.
Then he adds, "I'm kinda stingy with money. They didn't pay very well in the force".
I roll my eyes.
A red haired girl in a short black uniform skirt stands at the door. The first three buttons of her shirt are open, revealing...you get the message.
She winks at Furuno as she crosses on leg over the other and leans her head on the door frame.
Who the heck is she?
She reaches down to pull up her stockings until they rest at the middle of her thighs.
"Go pick your friends jaw up, or it will fall off completely". She says to Furuno.
It takes a while before I realize they are talking about me.
How funny.
I look at him with a comical expression.
"Toshiro, this is Dahlia, Dahlia, Toshiro".
She gives me a small wave and that is all the attention I get.
Furuno walks up to her and slips his hands around her trim waist.
I resist the urge to swat my forehead. Does he even remember why we're here? There's still an unconcious girl on the bed for crying out loud.
He whispers something in her ear and she smiles gingerly in response. Both of them toss a quick glance in my direction before he starts ushering her out.
Once she's gone, he comes inside, closes the door, and leans back on it.
"Some girls just don't know the meaning of a casual fling".
I toss him a deadly glare.
"I'm the last person you want to talk about your rendezvous with".
"Then, you'll miss out on all the juicy information I gathered".
I shrug nonchalantly.
"I know you are interested, even if you would rather die before you admit it". He says.
"Spill it - only the important part".
He smiles crookedly.
"Our first assessment is in ten minutes. I got us some useful tips. The first assessment is a magic sword fight. No physical swords, you are expected to magically create a sword. The Housas sword is the most powerful sword for first year students. When you want to conjure it, you say 'Housas swordos' and stretch out your hands to receive it-"
"Are you fucking kidding me? Is it supposed to drop from the sky like Thor's hammer?"
"I'm just telling you what I was told. That's why you have a brain, use it".
"What else? Is it only an imaginary sword fight?"
"Magic sword fight - point of correction." He looks up at the elegant clock mantlepiece with its gleaming mahogany. The minute hand moves gingerly past eleven. We have less than five minutes now.
"You are even adapting to this whole sorcery thing way worse than me. And no, there are two more assessments before it ends. The theory aspect would be two days from today".
"What about the screening exercise you mentionned?"
"It's just some kind of matriculation formality before they give us our uniforms and IDs".
I want to choke at the thought of wearing a uniform. Nothing could be more humiliating. Even sitting on a rusted chair and a scratched up desk listening to Fernandez's lectures is better than being forced to stuff myself into a uniform and crowd myself among high school graduates.
The thought makes me shudder.
The clock chimes at 12:00 and both of us exchange glances.
A lady in a prim white skirt and a beige blouse shows up at the door. Her clinking heels had done well to announce her arrival. It reminds me of my own mother. I could always hear her from miles away. Sometimes, I still hear the sound of her receding footsteps as she abandoned me in the hands of Doshiki. Doshiki, that was what he liked to call himself. No one really knew his real name.
He was a very strict Sensei, the only person I ever respected. None of the Senpais were ever worth emulating. They always made fun of him and his name behind his back and smoked when they thought he wasn't watching. I remember the first time I was asked to fight blind-folded. One of my ribs had been broken that day, among others. I had thought that I was a failure at that time. Everyone laughed and made fun of me. I always acted so tough, so hard to everyone, that they expected me to be unbeatable. I had expected Doshiki to give me one of his disdainful stares or comment on my shameful performance. He did not say a word to me. Two nights after, he came to my room at night with his lantern and sat by my bed. I had still been recuperating.
That was when I learnt the biggest secret about being an assassin. You don't fight with your heart. Your emotions would only blur your path and make you sloppy. No matter what you are going through, he had said, when you are in a battle, none of that matters anymore. Using your anger or rage as fuel in a duel is setting yourself up for disaster. It puts you on kill mode, so much so that you don't remember to block an attack.
I never forgave my mother, but the anger faded after that. A twisted sort of healing was the result. Mind you, he did not give me a motovational speech, he gave me a life saving tip.
Back to the savvy woman at the door.
"I'm Dena. Everyone calls me Dee. Both of you should follow me."
We follow quietly behind her. I stay behind briefly to tuck my shirt in.
A persian carpet lines the centre of the hallway elegantly. I can no longer hear the clicking sound of her heels, which is a relief.
The walls are lined with empty war armours, real animal heads, hanging paintings of probably the most outstanding sorcerers in their history.
"Vert Sinclaire". She says when she notices me staring at one of the paintings. The man looks like gorgon. Round and wrinkly face with dark bags under his eyes. A long and pointy nose that could probably injure someone. And his mouth is a very thin line, barely visible.
He is probably known for being the most grumpy sorcerer that ever lived.
"He is the one who created the forcefield surrounding our esteemed school. He died to protect the school. Rumours have it that his power is hidden somewhere in the school".
"Was he handsome when he was young?" Furuno asks out of the blue.
The woman turns to him and lowers her glasses at him. I did not notice the glasses earlier.
"No one knows. I doubt if anyone cares". She responds and continues walking.
We exchange glances and follow her.
She leads us into a large room with a vaulted ceiling and padded walls. Pillars are cast to support the structure.
Her heels echo loudly now as we are now walking on a bare tiled floor.
She pulls out an old fashioned pocket watch and flips it open.
"You, this domain." She points at Furuno.
As he shifts to a certain point, he disappears. I can no longer see him again.
"Your opponent is waiting for you in the other domain".
What the hell is a domain? Furuno must know. He seemed so at ease with the system, like he already knew what was expected of him.
I slowly step into the spot she directs me to and I no longer see her again. I am still in the same room, but, there is only one person here. My opponent. I look around, still very confused.
I wish someone would just hand me a manual and say that this is this and that is that, no complications.
"Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you in one word".
I stare up at the person. He is a young dark haired guy of probably eighteen or nineteen. His eyes look like tiny nightshades when in full bloom. Only night creatures like me can enjoy the beauty to be seen at night.
He is wearing what I'm wearing, except, he looks more smug in it. Same grey vest, same white shirt. Same black slacks. Same shoes. I'm used to dressing uniquely. I never wore a uniform while growing up.
The thought of dressing exactly the same as a whole lot of other people makes me nauseous. I rub the diamond stud in my ear to give me luck.
"I see you're not given to formalities". I say.
He starts circling me slowly, and I move in accordance.
With a speed equal to lightning, he produces a sword and fences at me. I jump back just in time.
"What are the rules?"
"I'm not a fucking guidebook".
Another thrust. I duck low.
What was the thing that Furuno had asked me to say when I want to conjure my sword? I search deep in my mind. I look around to see if anything might jumpstart my memory. It had been something silly.
"Forgot something?" He asks as he dashes at me.
I side-step instinctively while still trying to remember.
Hou...something. Housas?
"Housas swordos!" I yell and hold my hand out for the sword to apear.
Ironically, nothing happens. I keep holding my hand out, just in case the sword is slow in coming. I really do not understand this whole magic thing.
I slowly lower my hand when I hear my opponent laughing.
He points at me and tries to mutter words between bursts of laughter. I've never been so embarrassed.
"Who taught you that spell?"
I don't say anything. I reserve my anger for Furuno. He lunges at me.
It may be a magic sword fight, but I can still choose to use non- conventional methods to deal with the arrogant ass.
I start running toward one of the pillars. As expected he runs after me. I grip it with the tip of my fingers and slide around it, taking him out from the bottom.
He tries to stop himself from falling and ends up as a heap on the floor. His shiny magic sword vanishes from his hand. I place my booted feet on his chest and subdue him.
"Tell me the spell to get a sword".
He chuckles with a lot of effort.
"Let go of me first, and I'd tell you all you need to know".
It's my turn to laugh now. I let out a grim chuckle. I realize that I sound like the ultimate villain in the typical superhero series.
I press down on his chest even harder. He lets out a distressed grunt and folds his knuckles.
"Find a fucking spell book". He says amidst coughs.
"Not while I have one with me".
"Drakes Satus". He grunts out.
I hesitate before I say it. I don't want to be humiliated again.
I repeat his words slowly. A small sword starts glowing in my hand.
It feels weird and strange in a very interesting way.
I pin it on his neck, slightly pressing.
I wonder how long I am required to wait until the bloody assessment is over.
"I'm not supposed to help you, but you can't end the session until you say the binding words".
"What?"
He gives me a small smile.
"Fuck you!" He says and kicks me in the shins.
I stumble backward.
"I might actually kill him. I've never been good at sparing anyone".