I've just recently gotten back into the Layton games, so if I get somebody's personality a little (*cough*ALOT*cough*) wrong, feel free to correct me. :3 I'm replaying Diabolical Box, Curious Village, and Unwound Future to refresh my memory. Anyway, here we go! This takes place a few months before Curious Village, as of now.~

…Chapter One: The Letters

It was a normal afternoon on a normal Tuesday of a normal week. The Professor was just packing up his things, as he'd just finished his last lesson of the day. Finished putting the last paper into place, he shut the briefcase and lifted it off the desk, making for the door.

This is Professor Hershel Layton. He astounded everyone by becoming a professor at the same University he attended at just 27 years old. From his top hat to his shoes, Professor Layton is the most well-mannered gentleman you'd find anywhere. He's always ready to help anyone in need, and, like all British gentlemen, loves a cup of tea in the morning.

Now, he's heading for home in his little red car dubbed, by Luke, the 'Laytonmobile'. At first, the professor had rejected this idea, but it had stuck, and what was done was done. Minding his hat, he shut the door and started home.

What greeted him on the steps was a rather unusual sight. Sitting there, apparently waiting, was a boy no more than eleven years old. He had a pale blue cap on his head, and some of his light brown hair poked out the front in between his eyes. He wore a blue sweater, the same blue as his flat hat, with a white collar to it and viridian shorts. His brown satchel sat beside him, apparently forgotten as he leaped to his feet the minute he heard the car approaching. Dashing down the steps to the man just shutting the door, Layton turned around and nearly ran into him.

"Luke, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Luke ignored this. "Professor, it's so strange!" he exclaimed instead. "I don't have any idea what's going on with them!"

Layton frowned. "Slow down, my boy. What's happened?"

Luke caught himself and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Professor. I'll try to explain more clearly this time." He took a breath to start again, but Layton quickly interrupted him.

"Lt's go inside first," he offered. "Then you can tell me." Luke nodded and followed. Layton stopped and picked the mail up from the box beside the door before turning the key and going inside.

…

Once Luke had come down from the clouds again, Layton had him explain more thoroughly what he had been doing.

"Well, it's weird," the boy said, making a strange face. "I came home and then I remembered you were still teaching. We had an Early Release Day at school," he added. "It wasn't a big deal." He looked out the window, remembering. "The mailman came, right on time. He nodded to me and put the letters in your box. But there was this one that had caught my attention. It was kind of yellowish and large. There was a name on it, but I didn't read it."

Layton cast a quizzical look at his 'apprentice'. "So you went snooping through my mail, did you?"

Luke quickly shook his head. "No, Professor. A gentleman never does that. I figured it was nothing and went back to solving my puzzle. But then, just before you came, the mailman came back, looking rather confused."

"He came back?"

Luke nodded to the table. "Yeah. He looked at me and asked if he'd delivered to this address yet. I said yes, and he scratched his head. 'That's odd,' he remarked, looking at the letter in his hand. 'I guess I forgot one.' And Professor, here's the weird part! It looked just like that other yellow one he brought." Luke was now staring earnestly into his mentor's face.

Layton made no reply. He set his cup of tea down and leafed through the small pile of mail on his table. If Luke was right… he brought the first letter out, and found the second at the bottom. They did, indeed, look identical. It was the same handwriting, the same wax seal on the back, the same name, address, everything. Even down to how the addresser had put a flourish on the 'L' in 'Layton'. However the second one seemed much more rushed, as the name in the corner was smudged.

"Yeah, those," Luke said. He pointed to the one that was un-smudged. "That one came first, I think."

Deciding it was probably okay to open it, Layton turned it over. The wax seal was black and held a little fox face with a question mark behind it. The nagging voice in the back of his head said that he should recognize this. It was familiar somehow, but he couldn't remember from where. Pushing it from his mind, he opened the letter.

Inside was a faded piece of paper, looking a little dated. The scrawled handwriting was a bit difficult to make out. If it was any worse, we'd have to translate it, he thought wryly. "Let's see…"

…

"'To my dear Hershel Layton,

It's been a long time, hasn't it, Professor? It feels like forever ago that you and I have been in the same room. You probably don't remember me very well, but trust me, you will in a minute. Anyway, getting back to the letter, I have a request. Recently I've made a breakthrough in my research, but some things just don't add up. I've approached it from most ways, but can't figure out how to get it to make sense. If you could stop by my house to lend me a hand, I'd be very grateful. There are directions on the back.

Truthfully Yours,

Nazo'"

…

Luke crinkled his face. "Nazo? Who's that?"

The professor slowly set the letter down, lost in thought. Nazo…that was a name he hadn't heard in a long time. He came back to reality with Luke waving his hand frantically in front of his face.

"Hey, Professor!"

"Hmm?" He looked up. "Oh, my apologies, Luke."

Luke still wore his dubious expression but let it slide. "So who's Nazo, Professor?"

"She was student of mine," he replied. "It was a while ago. In fact, it's been nearly five years now. It was particular because she had such an unusual name. She was often bullied for it. In that year, she was the first Freshman in my class for a while. She was a very…queer individual." He smiled a little at the memory. "The older students didn't know what she was doing there, but she tried her best and graduated in the top five. She passed my course with flying colors. We had a lot of the same interests. She spent hours after school working on homework. One day, I decided to stay after to see why."

…

A young girl, younger than all the others, sat in the front row, flanked by two older boys. She looked extremely nervous to be there and kept glancing towards the door. A blank piece of paper lay in front of her, and she kept reaching for her pen and back again. The bell rang, and class started. Layton looked up from his desk.

"Hello to all of you," he said. "Welcome to Gressenheller University. For some of you, you're coming back after summer break, but others are just joining us for their first time." He scanned the class for the Freshmen he'd been told that was joining them. There was an extremely nervous girl in the front. That must be her. "Now, I'm going to launch straight into what we'll be covering in this term."

The whole class, every word he spoke, the girl was writing furiously. The elder kids on either side looked at each other over her bent head like they thought she was insane. When class ended, there was a swarm for the door. The last one left was the Freshman. She was packing up her things as quickly as possible, but her backpack was crammed full. Deciding it was full enough, she picked up the remaining two books in her arms and headed for the door, nearly toppling over backwards because of its weight. She waved to him as she left.

He watched her the entire time. He'd never seen such a queer Freshman. He looked down at the roster of names. Who was she…ah, there.

"Nazo Murray," he read aloud. "I'll keep a close eye on her."

A few days later, Professor Layton stayed after in his classroom to meet with Nazo. She was coming from across the school back to his room on an agreement that she'd be doing extra credit. There was a puzzle on his desk. He wanted to see if she could solve it.

It was a simple cube with nine squares on each face. Two or three numbers were fitted into these squares. A small pile of the same numbers lay beside it on the desk. There was a knock at the door, and it slid open to reveal Nazo with her fifty-pound backpack.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," she said breathlessly. She dropped her backpack at her desk and sat at it. "What will we be doing today?"

He beckoned her over, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. She hesitantly got up and crossed the room and sat in it. Her attention was immediately drawn to the cube.

"I see you've noticed the puzzle," he said.

She nodded.

"Well, your task today is to solve it."

She looked up quickly. "That's it? Just solve it?"

He nodded. "Just solve it."

She bit her lip for a minute, then picked up the cube and started to examine it. In no time at all, she'd gotten the first side done. Each side was solved quicker and quicker until she was putting numbers into their places at record speed. Not even ten minutes passed before she set it back down on the desk, solved.

He nodded in approval. It had taken him about six and a half minutes to figure out the combination of numbers required to solve the cube, and it had taken her only seven and three quarters. He was impressed. "Good work, Nazo."

"Thanks, Professor," she said. "Although, it wasn't a fair test."

He looked up, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

She held up her hand. In it lay a piece of the cube. "You rigged the cube," she explained. "This can only fit inside the cube, but you can't open it until you unsolve it." She took off the two on the side facing her, and the square dropped down onto the desk on a hinge. She placed the piece inside, lifted the side back up, and replaced the two.

He smiled. "Good eye."

She smiled too. "Hey, it's all in the name. After all…my name, Nazo, means 'riddle'."

…

The Professor leaned back in his chair. "She was the only one besides myself who could solve that in under ten minutes. She was my star student that year. She was the only one who managed to translate the things in ancient languages fluently. She learned them all and could recite anything I asked of her without looking at her book of notes."

Luke was impressed. Someone who could rival his mentor and still had all pieces of her mind in the right place? Now this was someone he had to meet.

"Read the other one, Professor," he encouraged.

Professor Layton opened the other letter and unfolded it. "Let's see here." The writing on this one was much harder to read. It was rushed and uneven.

…

"'Dear Professor Layton,

Please, you mustn't come! No matter what the other letter says, you can't come here! It's dangerous! You mustn't—'"

…

He stopped reading. Luke tipped his head to the side. "Why'd you stop, Professor?"

"Because that's all there is, Luke," he replied evenly. An ominous red blotch stained the paper. "My intuition is saying that we have a mystery on our hands. A very…vexing mystery."

Luke grinned. "Are we going, Professor?"

"Against my better judgment, yes."

…~-

And that's that. :3