...Hey. This is the first part of a new series of oneshots that stuck itself into my head, and my first fanfiction for Black Cat, so...yeah. Hope ya like it!
Disclaimer : I don't own Black Cat, that belongs to Yabuki Kentaro , whom I am not. XD But I wish Shaolee was mine.
15
Clink, clink.
The desk clerk looked up as the the bell tied to the front door of the office chimed. A young girl, maybe fifteen, sixteen years old, pushed open the glass door and walked in.
What's she here for? To apply for a license...no. He dismissed the thought almost immediately, it was quite outlandish. Even though it was technically legal to apply for a sweeper license at fifteen, the last character he'd seen here under drinking age was a glasses-sporting college kid, three years ago. And he'd claimed he was primarily an information broker anyway.
He couldn't quite recall the name, but somehow that kid had merited certification. There must have been more to him than met the eye; it took years of physical and tactical training to be able to capture and not kill with a gun, or otherwise capture at all.
"Um...excuse me?" He looked up. Before him stood the blonde girl who'd come through the doors a while ago. How long had she been standing here waiting?
"Oh-- ah-- yes?" was his somewhat harried answer, embarrased to be caught daydreaming.
"I'd like to apply for a sweeper license," she intoned solemnly. Well, well, his conscience said to itself. There you go.
"Mm, yes, first fill out this form," he said, handing her two sheets of stapled paper. "There's a table over there with some pens."
She bowed her head gravely. "Thank you," and walked placidly to the tables. It was then that he noticed the green-haired man with the eyepatch following her. A flicker of recognition lit the back of his mind. That was...Sven Vollfied, veteran sweeper! He'd been part of the sweeper alliance that took down Creed Diskenth and the Apostles of the Stars a few years ago.
So the girl would be...his daughter? No, he was too young to have a teenage daughter. She was too young to be Sven's girlfriend too, maybe he was chaperoning a friend's daughter? Or maybe she was his friend... This girl really piqued his curiosity. He flitted through various speculations until once again, she stood before him.
"Here," she said plainly, handing him the complete sheets. He cringed inwardly. This mystery girl acted like a robot, always speaking in the same monotone and maintaining an unvaryingly serious face.
He thanked her and scanned over the paper. "Oh." He flipped the paper on the counter and indicated an empty blank. "You need to fill in your last name." The unmoving blond eyebrows knit together in an expression of confusion, the first demonstration of humanity he'd seen from her all day.
"I don't..." Her words petered away and she rushed back to Sven. Hm. However they knew each other, they seemed to share a close father-daughter bond, the biological truth of it regardless. Come to think of it, he'd heard of Vollfied and his partner having a female accomplice... but he was pretty sure it was that crafty Rinslet Walker the government hired from time to time. Well, he could be wrong.
When she returned a while later, a rather long while for just writing a last name, he thought; the surname "Lunatique" was scribbled in the 'family name' blank. Hm. Lunatique. The name rang a bell somewhere, but he couldn't quite remember when or where he'd heard it. Scanning the rest of the document, he handed it back to her and nodded.
"Take it over there," he said, and leaned back in his chair to muse. Lunatique. Eve Lunatique. He wasn't quite sure of the first name, but Lunatique he'd heard somewhere. He scratched is cheek in thought. She could be a big name, a rising young actress or the likes...
But a teen celebrity wouldn't be pursuing the life of a sweeper. What a ridiculous thought, he scolded himself. Maybe... Lunatique. That was right, there was some genius called something Lunatique...was it Eve? That name wasn't familiar, but he assumed it was just his mistake. So Sven Vollfied's female partner was a little girl, and not that nefarious thief-for-hire...
"Okay, smile!" Blond eyebrows furrowed further into their customary deadpan expression. The photographer clicked the camera in exaggeratedly high spirits. "Well, how does this look?" she asked, showing her subject the image.
"It's a bit crooked."
"Hm. Yeah, you're right." In truth, the photo was an abomination of awful photography, motion-blurred and lopsided to a nearly thirty-degree angle. "Retake?"
"Okay," was the bland response. Instantly, with a smile and a word of cheery encouragement to do likewise, another photo was snapped.
"See, this is much better! Alright, just wait while we get this printed..." click-click-click. Navy blue heels rapped the linoleum floor in rapid staccato as their owner bustled away.
A few minutes later, a laminated card sat in the palm of the blonde girl. She imparted a rare smile of gratitude to the hyperactive camerawoman, and walked out the door to meet Train and Sven.
"Li'l princess, lemme see," crowed Train excitedly, as soon as she stepped into the sunlight.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and held out the card. He snatched it up like candy. A moment later his mouth split into a wide array of teeth that looked like it could crack his face open-- "Awesome!! Let's party tonight, Svenny!" A pause. "Lunatique? Like Dr. Tearju?"
A polite cough. "Svenny?" Train's smile stretched into a near-grimace that looked potentially painful. "Don't tell me Daddy Sven isn't pwoud of Eve for becoming a sweeper!"
Eve watched a vein pop in Sven's head. "She's been working with us for--"
"Who gives a damn?? I wanna party!! Let's see, we can call Rins, and Thunder-head, and that Kevin guy too, and that Leon kid, and...oh yeah, here ya go, princess," he said, handing her her identification. "And we'll have milk! Lots 'n lots of milk so you can grow..." She transformed a few strands of hair into earplugs and examined the card.
Under the plastic film was a stiff rectangle of card-paper, with a blue border and her portrait in the corner just like Sven's and Train's. Next to it was the official stamp confirming it as genuine, and under that, in bold lettering, the words:
Lunatique, Eve
Proffesional Sweeper
She smiled. Eve, licensed sweeper. It was the path of life she'd chosen, to protect people and repent for the ones she'd killed. Just like Train. She frowned and set her jaw. Just like Train, one day she'd become Sven's partner by beating the Black Cat into the ground.
Sweeper.
At long last.
A/N : Huh. What do you think? Was it a bit rushed? I'm a bit apprehensive about this; I had the idea of a series and the first one came out and wrote itself in about an hour without any particular editing except a reread and a little tightening here and there... the scene(s) just sorta flowed out. Howdya think it went? XP I like it but it seems a little...bland. If you likey though, I'm glad
Constructive criticism very welcome, please review? Pweeeease? hope you hang on and read the next installment. And the next, and the next, and the next...to the end? XD maybe that's a bit much to ask.
Well byebye for now
Coco --damn, they don't have squiggles anymore, they were part of my sig. I really hate 's formatting sometimes.
Please read - ...well...when this was first published, I said it was the first part of a 'series' - how stupidly vague, right? xD I ow you an apology for the misunderstanding, guys, I meant a series of separate oneshots. Hehe. Sorry for anyone who wanted to see this particular story evolve; if anyone wants to write a sequel themselves you are very welcome to do so (and I would be honored that you liked my story so much). Just tell me. xD
Gee, how conceited can I get, assuming anyone will want to? But I've seen it happen; just leaving an open end for anyone who wants to grab.
--Coco