'Hana Association West Section 4, Grade 1 Fixer'
The words written on that license kept replaying in my head like a broken record, over and over again.
Everything else seemed to go blank, I could no longer register the noises a clearly frantic Renza was making whilst trying to dislodge what one could only assume was that fancy sword displayed above the front desk.
Nor the encouraging words that came out a bit more sheepishly than intended coming from the woman who managed that front desk.
No, instead, my focus had become fully tuned towards the man in possession of that license.
Even without it, the uniform would have made his place of employment abundantly clear to anyone not living under a rock.
And yet, in spite of the fact that a fixer of the Hana Association was right before my eyes, a man who by all logic and reason would have both the incentive and capability to kill me, the feeling that overcame me was...
Not...fear.
Not in the slightest actually.
In fact, the most prevalent feeling clouding my mind was...confusion.
Because, well.
"..Uhm." Ishamon rubbed the back of his neck with the other arm, his eyes closed while putting on a shaky smile. "Pardon me but could I ask what the hurry is about...?"
The man right in front of me was acting like...that.
You see, one thing that's hard to not to learn to pick up on in the backstreets is the distinct aura that most fixers exude, a seasoned rat like me could tell apart ordinary folk from fixers with moderate success.
So I knew what a fixer should've been like, not just ones from a no name backstreets office of nobodies, I've seen plenty of association fixers too.
All of this caused a picture to form in my mind of what a fixer should look like, they should be the kind of person where just one glance at them could tell you everything one needed to know.
And analyzing this particular fixer...was actively shattering every single one of those preconceptions.
For starters the general vibe and disposition was not of a dangerous and capable combatant, instead, It was that of someone who was having their very first day of being alive.
Credit where it's due, he did an alright job at disguising it, but a mediocre poker face, if one could even call that forced smile by that term, failed to disguise how he looked two seconds away from a heart attack.
'..That-'
'That cannot be a fucking fixer....'
If he was grade 9 it wouldn't be anything of note, but a grade 1 fixer acting in such a manner was just impossible to me, nepotism in its purest most unstilled form would have still been insufficient at getting this wimp the position.
"Tch- Damn thing won't come off..." Shuffling slightly closer to the door and peering past it gave me a better look at the situation with Renza, still trying to get that sword out of its case.
No longer in any particular hurry too, looks like he calmed down a little, yet it was still a mystery as to why this transaction was taking place.
The woman behind the counter was also just calmly reading her newspaper again, she didn't seem to care all that much.
A short period of silence followed, broken only by the sound of screws being loosened.
"Haah~ Finally." Renza wiped some sweat from his brow, the hand he did it with holding a screwdriver.
"Took ya' long enough."
"Shaddup!"
'What even is their relationship....' That question remained unanswered.
Instead.
"A-ahem!"
"Hm?"
"Hm?"
Ishamon had finally composed himself to some degree, no longer shaking and donning a smile that was slightly less polite than the former but much more natural.
'Ah, second day being a human, not the first'
Both Renza and the woman's heads perked up at that, with the former's hands pausing over the sword's hilt.
"I....presume" He raised a finger now that he was slightly less anxious, pointing at the blade "That sword is for me.....?"
"Mhm, spot on." The one currently holding that sword hopped over the counter, much to the woman's mild annoyance, nearly spilling some coffee. ''Your folks already paid, so, it's as good as yours.''
'What on earth is he talking about...'
No, seriously, this guy clearly got his position through some form of nepotism, why would he be buying a sword from a random backstreets workshop, if his parents were loaded enough to make their incompetent son a grade 1 fixer why buy...that.
'Mhm, something's off here...'
I squinted my eyes towards the blade as Renza continued his approach, sure it seemed of high quality even to a layperson such as myself but, can't be that special...
Renza finally stopped a few paces away, standing completely still for what felt like an eternity, just staring an even more sheepish Ishamon dead in the eyes.
Scratching his cheek, the fixer tried to ask.
''So-''
''Take it.''
''E-Eh!?''
''Come on man'' Renza tossed it up and down. ''I don't got all day here.''
''O-Oh, w-well, if you insist....''
Ishamon gulped, then tentatively reached towards the sword, the digits of both hands slowly wrapping around the scabbard and hilt, until it had settled nicely in his grip.
Bringing it closer to himself, the thumb of his left hand moved towards the guard, gently pushing it upwards, slowly sliding the scabbard off of the blade.
The unsheathing process felt agonizingly long, yet both Renza and the fixer seemed mesmerized by it, the woman behind the desk and me? Not so much, but they at least did.
Once it had fully been drawn, Ishamon lowered the scabbard and placed it at his hip, then brought the sword up to his face, where it caught the light in a way that almost made me go blind when it reflected at my eyes.
There was not much to note about the blade that had been unsheathed, it was of ordinary make, the only detail about it that stuck out were the words engraved into it.
''To reveal one's mind within is respect, and to decide one's actions externally is righteousness''
I could clearly see Ishamon turn the blade towards him to read those words as well, sighing once he was done, tension draining from his shoulders after a slump.
''Haah~ I didn't think I'd ever be capable of wielding a relic''
'...'
Huh?
''Yeah yeah, you don't got to show off in front of us peasants okay? You got the sword is what matters, now leave, I'd like to go back to work.''
Ishamon chuckled at that....he was, scarily more composed now, he almost seemed like a proper fixer.
''Alright alright, I suppose it would be ill to continue boring you, but I would still like to ask one last question before leaving.''
''Hm?'' Renza perked up at that. ''...Sure? Ask away.''
Ishamon stared him dead in the eyes, slowly closing his own, tilting his head to the side, allowing a graceful smile to cross his lips, then speaking softly.
''Do you know anything about the upstart Urban Legend around these parts?''
''...'' Renza was noticeably more nervous now.
''Uhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-''
''It's alright if you don't, urban legends are not the most important of hazards after all.''
His eyes opened again, slowly sweeping across the room.
''So it's quite alright if you don't know anything about the-''
He cut himself off, looking straight at me.
Every single ounce of nervousness, both in his posture and expression, had evaporated the second he made eye contact.
''....''
''Nosferatu.''