Genji gave the dusty floorboards beneath him a vindictive swipe from his broom before doubling over in a coughing fit when the force sent a cloud of dust billowing around his head. Sputtering with the taste of the cloying stuff still coating his tongue, he griped pitifully, "Why hasn't this textbook health hazard been demolished yet?"
McCree cast him an amused glance before jerking his head towards the attic door, "She just paid us 15 galleons."
As far as magical private detective agencies went, theirs wasn't exactly a thriving business. Sure, they were graduates from the esteemed Hogwarts, but most witches and wizards in England were. To put it simply, they had no real life experience, no reputation, and next to no clients. Placing their advertisement in the muggle phonebook might have been a bit of a risky move on their parts, but with their livelihood on the line, there was little left for them to do other than branch out and hope for the best, which was how they'd come to be employed as glorified janitors by an aging squib with a pixie infestation in her attic.
The first time Genji laid eyes on her, he could have sworn she was a witch, or at least part troll. She was short and hunched over, with beady black eyes, a hooked nose, and slender digits, spindly as spider's legs, that each sported curled and overgrown yellow nails. Her teeth, which she'd revealed when she'd beckoned them into her home with an unsettling smile, were pointed, thin, and sharp, much like those belonging to the pixies currently trying to gnaw off a few strands of McCree's hair. He batted the gangly blue troublemakers off without paying them much mind, as the faster they cleaned up the attic, the faster the pixies nesting in it would grow bored and leave to build their home in some other dirty, decrepit place.
Scowling at the moth-ridden trunk of cloaks the little demons had come streaming out of once they'd unwittingly disturbed it, Genji tried to consider their options. If worst came to worst, they could just give Agatha her money back and leave. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of wizards around to deal with these sorts of issues, but if they did that, she'd give them a bad review, and their fledging business simply didn't have the clout to weather negative feedback.
Maybe they'd get more customers if they conducted themselves more like professional wizards, and less like Clint Eastwood's biggest fan and a punk rock rebel child, but Genji was convinced that the Wizarding World wouldn't know good fashion if it jumped up and bit them on their pointy hats, and so he didn't linger for long on the possibility of an image problem. It wasn't as though either of them would be changing their outfits or behavior anytime soon, after all.
It was after Genji had given up on sweeping entirely, in favor of playing good old fashioned Tug of War with several pixies after his verdant locks, and McCree had muttered something while batting away his own swarm with his broom about inviting Lena over to see if her hairstyle could somehow talk the creatures into leaving, "What with them bein' kin and all," that the phone strapped to the cowboy's side began to vibrate. For a moment, the boys could only stare at the device in disbelief, since the cell was connected to their official PI office number, meaning it'd never actually rang or vibrated or done anything of note until this moment.
Whatever it was, Genji hoped that they were needed right away, right now, immediately.
One brow arced with suspicion at the convenient timing, McCree glanced down at his pocket, unmoving. "What are you waiting for, Jesse?" Genji demanded, having already had his fill of ineffectual pixie wrangling. "Answer it!"
Grumbling under his breath, Jesse fetched the cell out of his pocket – sure, it wasn't a talking head in the fireplace, but it got the job done – and thumbed the big green button on the screen. The acceptance was followed by a series of uh-huhs and yes, sirs that had Genji wanting to pull his own hair out. During this, a particularly brave pixie flitted a bit too close for his liking, so Genji transformed his nails into claws and flashed them, sending the creature skittering backwards to join the rest of its swarm.
He allowed himself a brief, self-satisfied grin and a raspy snicker that stuck in his throat. "Hey, think you could stop goofing off with the critters for a sec? We've got ourselves another job on our hands." There was an uncharacteristic sharpness to McCree's tone that instantly set off alarms in Genji's head. As his fingertips slowly returned to their original form, he gently asked what was wrong, because something obviously was. He never imagined there'd come a day when his partner would look so despondent after receiving news of a new assignment.
Even the pixies seemed to sense the sudden shift in the atmosphere. After sharing a nervous glance, through which an entire conversation seemed to pass, they poured back into the trunk, which slammed shut with a resounding thud. McCree barely even seemed to notice. "There's been reports of the Slit-Mouthed Woman in London." Genji stiffened, his thoughts flying immediately to his latest (and last) visit to Hanamura. Hadn't he glimpsed the silhouette of a masked woman lurking in the lamplights? "Seems that they've tried setting a curfew already, but a few kids got attacked the other day walking home from school and now the Ministry's ready to admit they're in over their heads."
"Have there been any deaths?"
McCree shook his head. "Not as of yet, but give it time. Chances are good she'll come across a kid that doesn't know to be on their best behavior around her soon enough."
Turning away, Genji agitatedly bit down on his thumb as his thoughts kicked into overdrive, searching for an explanation. And while he didn't like to think of himself as egocentric, the timing coincided too well with his return from his ho- country to be coincidental. "She must have attached herself to my aura and followed me here." He was sure of it. It wouldn't be the first time the supernatural had latched itself to his magic or his br-
"There's no other reason I can think of for a kuchisake-onna to be in England."
"Now, don't go jumping to conclusions. We don't know if that's true, partner. But it sounded to me like they could really use any information you've got, so what do you say?
Meanwhile, Genji was already quietly muttering an Aquamenti under his breath to speed up the cleaning process. They'd initially opted to tidy up the place by hand out of a reluctance to disturb the hornet's nest of pointy-eared gremlins any more than they had to, but it was already midday, which meant that there was only several hours left before school was let out, and an 8 PM curfew didn't account for kids walking home after clubs or sports in the twilight hours.
With what was now a decent-sized orb of swirling cerulean water, Genji scoffed, "Isn't it obvious?" A few stray droplets fell from the carefully gathered ball, spraying and wetting the ground. There were several ancient dresses and delicate fabrics in the cardboard boxes around them that would suffer during the onslaught, but with luck and a certain amount of control, the damage would almost certainly be negligible. Which was great because the squib lady scared him.
Shrugging his shoulders casually, McCree replied with a grin, "Yeah, guess so. Must be why I already told 'em, yes."
And Genji, glancing sidelong at him, shook his head with fond exasperation, then quickly got to work.
They finished in record time, naturally. Sure, it wasn't exactly pleasant, what with the way the pixies shrieked in their faces after the undesired wash, but a few cups of whiskey calmed them right down, enough they could easily be lifted by their antennas or fragile dragonfly wings and deposited into Mason jars. They gave them to Agatha to do with them what she wished, since killing the varmints wasn't in their job description, bid her a good day, and then headed back to their apartment for a quick shower before hopping in a taxi to London.
After dropping in to the police station to ask where the children from the attacks were being treated for their injuries and charming the muggle officers slightly, the amateur sleuths discovered that the kids from all the encounters with the Slit-Mouthed Woman had been taken to the children's hospital up the road, literally a block away. And if they were going to take this investigation seriously, talking to the witnesses seemed like as good a start as any.
There was, as far as Genji knew, no way to kill the kuchisake-onna. What might have been the vengeful ghost of a samurai's wife once upon a time had long since shed her humanity to become a youkai, and youkai were tied to belief. Fear gave them power, which meant that with every night that passed she was only growing stronger.
Genji pulled his black duster closer around him to fight off a chill as they strode purposely through the crowds to reach the rusty red brick building at the end of the road. Seeing he was cold and taking it upon himself to fix that problem, McCree ducked into a café to purchase some venti Chai non-fat lattes to warm them up, and they sipped surreptitiously at the sweet, scalding liquid until they stood at the entrance of the hospital where a colorful sign, out of place among the skeletal frames of incomplete structures surrounding it, announced that they'd arrived.
The building was five-stories tall and unassuming, something that could have easily passed for an apartment complex or an office, but once they walked through the glass doors at the entrance and were subsequently slammed by the sharp and potent scent of antiseptic assaulting their nostrils, they knew they were in the right place.
There was a nurse tapping furiously on her desktop behind the front desk, her snowflake-patterned uniform rumpled after a long shift and her bun slightly askew. She paused, blinking tiredly behind her glasses, before finally noticing their approach, "Oh! Hello? How can I help you?"
"Heya, darlin'," the young nurse wrinkled her nose when McCree leaned an elbow relaxedly on the counter, "we're here on account of the batch of kids brought in the other day thanks to what we heard was a rather nasty run-in with a very disturbed lady. Think you could put us in the right direction?"
"Are you guys with the Ministry of Magic?" She demanded with a slight accent, her brown eyes narrowing in suspicion as one her hands disappeared beneath the table, likely falling to where her wand rested.
Despite the evident distrust, Genji ran his fingers through his hair with a grin, because this all just got a whole lot easier. Sidling up next to Jesse with a confidence he didn't have to fake, he told her, "Yes, we are. My partner and I would like to talk to the children to see if we can get a better idea of where the kuchisake-onna might strike next." He glanced up at the clock on the wall that currently read 4 PM. "And I think you know as well as I do that there is not a lot of time left before more kids will be joining them, and that is if they're lucky."
The nurse – the tag pinned to the front of her shirt revealed her name to be Mei – frowned up at him, her brow furrowing with worry. "Mama always said to beware the masked woman that appeared at night, but I never believed…"
Chuckling under his breath as a sudden thought struck him, McCree made his voice purposely gruff, "You best start believin' in ghost stories, Miss Mei." He winked, enjoying the sight of the befuddlement gradually replacing her anxiety and doubt. "You're in one."
Upon noticing the blank stares he was getting from not only the nurse, but Genji as well, McCree could only sigh, "I expected nothing and ya'll still disappointed me."
While Genji patted him on the shoulder, Mei bit down on her bottom lip to hide a smile. Even if the pair of them did look a little strange – and she was often paired with Jamison for the afternoon shift, so she knew strange - they seemed harmless enough. Regardless, she had them hand over their I.D.'s for security's sake, causing her to smile again when she noticed that the tall American was still wearing his Stetson and brown duster in his photo. Then she activated her favorite shikigami by tapping her wand on a small slip of paper. There was a puff of smoke, inside which a glowing pair of bright blue eyelights could be seen, and a small weather robot zoomed out of the cloud.
Mei laughed as it nuzzled her cheek. Pushing it away gently, she explained for the detectives' benefit, "This is my friend, Snowball." The little drone hummed a greeting, flapping its hexagonal panels with excitement. "He can take you to the children."
Genji and McCree nodded their thanks, still a little gobsmacked by the apparently sentient magical construct waiting patiently for them further down the hall. As they strode through the building, they realized how eerie the utter lack of bustling and noisy doctors and other medical staff made the hospital. Most of the rooms were unoccupied, leaving them to assume that the majority of the patients had been assigned to rooms on the upper levels. McCree allowed his attention to wander to the walls, where silhouettes of birds and pines could be seen in the painted murals. Occasionally, he'd catch a glimpse of an uninhabited room through a crack in the doorway until, to his shock, he caught sight of a pair of small, pink-socked feet shifting slightly at the foot of a bed.
"Hey, Genji?" McCree called, hanging back. Genji turned around, one brow quirked in question. "Give me a sec. I'll catch up to ya." He jammed a thumb towards the room beside him, letting his buddy know where he'd be if he needed him, and then, pretending he hadn't noticed the dubious frown flit over his friend's features before he nodded, McCree stepped carefully and quietly into the room, careful to keep his wand covered and his posture as non-threatening as possible.
And sitting up in the bed, her upper body propped by pillows, was a young Japanese girl with long strands of raven black hair framing her pale features. Bandages wrapped around her jaw kept him from seeing what Jesse was sure would be the grisly slashes left behind by the Slit-Mouthed Woman.
"Hey there, sweetie," he said gently, as he approached her side, "what're you doin' here all by your lonesome? How come you're not with your friends?"
And what were the doctors thinking, anyway? Leaving an injured little girl by herself… It didn't make any sense.
She muttered something, the bandages over her mouth moving with the breath pressed against them. Leaning closer, McCree asked her to try again, but only if it didn't hurt her too much. This time, he heard her.
"Watashi ga kirei to omoimasu ka?"
Do you think I am pretty?
Swallowing back an unexpected thrill of fear, McCree dredged up the odds and ends of Japanese Genji had taught him to get the gist of it, then offered her a comforting pat on the head. "Everyone's got scars, sweetheart." He watched her eyes as she looked up at him. There wasn't any light in them. "Sure, yours are a little more visible than others, but that don't mean you're not one of the prettiest, sweetest angels on God's green earth."
If he'd hoped to find a spark of life in her at his words, he was disappointed. Briefly, he debated sticking around, since Genji could probably handle talking to the kids, and leaving her alone just didn't sit right with him, but someone had to know that there'd been some kind of mistake. Maybe he'd just go talk to that nice looking nurse at the counter really quick.
When he started heading towards the door, however, the girl began pulling and ripping at her bandages. Before he could make a move to stop her, they were off, revealing the scarred tissue and exposed bone extending from the corners of her mouth in a grotesque smile. With a wild shriek, she tore the IV from her wrist and leapt from the bed, causing McCree to stumble and fall when the full weight of her body slammed against him. His head cracked painfully against the tile, disorienting him long enough for the girl to properly straddle his chest, before she raised the needle over her head to plunge into his face. He caught her wrists, his eyes widening at the frigidity of her skin, and she snarled a death rattle, her jagged and broken teeth bared, "Watashi ga kirei to omoimasu ka?!"
Though grunting with the effort of keeping her from stabbing him, McCree managed, "On second thought… I'd say that there's a look only you could pull off, doll."
For a moment, she stopped struggling, confusion creeping into her fury, and then a blur of green appeared in the doorway.
"Jesse, I found the kids!" Genji said breathlessly. "They say they were attacked by a…" He trailed off at the sight of McCree attempting to fight off what appeared be a young girl.
"Let me guess," the ghost's strength seemed to triple. McCree could feel his eyes begin to cross as the needle began to get uncomfortably close, "they said they saw a kid?" It explained a lot. Why so many kids, despite having learned Stranger Danger at an early age, would approach her. Why none of them so far had been murdered for calling her ugly or telling her she wasn't pretty. He could almost hear them trying to comfort her, just as he had, before she used their pity and kindness to hurt them.
Those kids were going to have to live with their scars for the rest of their lives. Ain't nothing was going to change that.
But maybe, because of them, others wouldn't have to.
Genji reached into his pocket with a dangerously blank expression, to pull out first a handle, and then kept going until he held within his grasp Ryuuichi-moji, a green-tipped katana that pulsed with an ethereal light. The kuchisake-onna crouched over McCree with a furious hiss, having sensed the ancient power the blade was imbued with, and lunged to swipe at the intruder with the IV needle. He avoided the warning strike with ease, and with one stride, stepped beside her crouched form, and plunged the blade through her back. And she writhed, howling as light began to spread from the contact, enveloping her.
When at last it became too bright, McCree threw his arms over his face to shield his eyes, only to suddenly feel the very solid weight on him vanish. He blinked, and before she faded away entirely, caught a glimpse of a young woman in a simple kimono staring down at him. She nodded at them both, a shy smile tugging at the mostly faded scares on her cheeks, and then she was gone, leaving nothing behind.
His lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line, Genji explained that though youkai like the kuchisake-onna were powered by belief, that same belief could force them to act in ways they wouldn't otherwise. Shoulders slumping, a low sigh escaped him. "These things are cyclical. One day her legend will spread again, and the attacks will resume." Ultimately, what they'd done had merely postponed the inevitable.
Scratching his chin, McCree hummed thoughtfully, "Even so, just now when she smiled… I'd say she looked pretty happy to me."
Thinking back, Genji found that he had to agree. Though she'd followed him, being in a new and unfamiliar place must have scared her. Now, at least, she was returning to the place where she belonged.
After carefully returning his blade back to the pocket dimension he'd installed in his favorite pair of jeans, Genji held out a hand to help McCree to his feet, "Let's go home, Jesse."
McCree glanced up sharply, his gaze searching, and whatever he found in Genji's tired expression caused him to soften, "How about you get the taxi and I'll cover the pizza for later on tonight. That sound like a good plan?"
Relaxing as they made their way towards the exit, Genji responded truthfully, "It sounds like a great one."