I've tried to make this story as much as an actual Professor Layton game as I could, but it's still just fanfiction. Still, I hope you like it, and if you've got any good ideas, please do review/PM them! And in case anyone wanted to know, I'm imagining 17-year old Luke to look exactly like Clive did in Unwound Future. Sycamore/ Descole doesn't look like he's aged at all though.
It was an unusually clear day in London.
This was the first thing the young man noticed as he stepped out of the Molentary Express. Then again, the last time he'd set foot in London was back when he was a little boy. He could hardly claim to be familiar with the place after being gone for five years.
He felt tempted to go visit his former teacher after such a long time, but decided against it: this was the first time the professor had asked for his help, after all! He was determined to do this properly, this he swore on his name as Luke Triton! He'd go visit the professor after he'd fulfilled his request. Speaking of which…
Luke pulled the letter the professor had sent him a week earlier. At first he'd barely noticed anything odd about it all, except for that the professor's monthly letter to him was a bit early. It had been roughly four years since he'd last met the professor in person. He'd come to his new home back then because Luke had sent him a letter requesting his assistance for a new mystery. The professor, being the true gentleman he is, had arrived there in less than three days. Together they'd solved the mystery, and the professor had gone back home with the promise to write a lot. Luke hadn't sat still all those years, and had honed his puzzle-solving skills and his true gentleman lifestyle. He still wasn't at the professor's level, but he was certainly doing well.
But back to the letter. At first it had seemed like a normal letter, but upon opening it he found a map of London with a red circle drawn on it, together with an address. The letter itself read:
Luke,
I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but I need a favor from you.
I'm sorry I can't give you more details, but I'm currently quite busy with my own work here at the university.
Due to this, I'm unable to help an old acquaintance of mine who asked for my aid in a case. This is someone you know as well.
Your father's told me you've been solving cases near your home, and have been doing a good job.
This is why I've decided to hand the case over to you. If you don't want it, just send me a letter with your answer: I'd understand.
But if you do want it, the address of my acquaintance is written on the map that came with this.
In this case, I'm grateful. I wouldn't want to let him down.
Either way, I expect to hear from you soon.
Professor Hershel Layton.
It wasn't the first time the professor had handed him a case, but those were always small ones in which he simply had to give advice to the police. This was the first time the professor had given him an actual case! He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel excited and happy at the idea that the professor trusted him like this. Sure, the letter had been short, but that was because the professor had been pressed for time: it didn't change that he chose him of all people to look for help.
Luke held out his hand to catch a taxi, and like this he made his way to the address on the map. It turned out to be an office building in the more quiet parts of London. He felt excitement welling up, but his outward appearance was calm and composed, befitting of a true gentleman. He entered the building and used the elevator to get to the second-last floor. There, he searched for the ninth door on the right, and knocked.
'I'll be right there!' Sounded a strangely familiar voice. The professor had said it was someone he knew, but Luke couldn't immediately think of name that belonged to the voice. He gave up trying to guess as he heard the door lock be undone, and decided he'd find out in a matter of seconds anyway.
But the face he saw when the door was opened must have belonged to the last person he'd expected:
'Descole?!'
'Oh, Luke, so he send you. Not that it wasn't to be expected. Please, come on in. And I'd prefer it if you addressed me as Sycamore. I'm not wearing a costume now, after all.'
