The Bureau Files: Series 2

by Catsafari

Haru's back with the Cat Bureau, but juggling her two separate lives is proving trickier than she thought. It would be a lot easier if certain people didn't go wandering into other worlds too... Cover art by Angie/drawerofdoodles.

1. Curiouser (Part 1)

The Bureau Files: Series 2

ooOoo

A/N: So The Bureau Files is back for a second series! *much celebration from the cast* Seriously, thank you for all the support and encouragement that made writing this a possibility. There are very few successful sequels to existing fanfictions, but I hope this story will capture you as well as the first series did.

Also, I will probably be doing a 'Behind the Scenes' episode at the end of this series, so interesting or funny reviews may have the chance to be read out by our favourite characters! Requests or direct questions are also welcome; the cast will answer them to the best* of their abilities.

*All except Muta, who wants you to know he only works for food. Except mulberries. Send them to Toto.

Cat.

P.S: Who else is excited for Doctor Who tomorrow?

EDIT: Cover art was done by the wonderful Angie, on her Tumblr blog: drawerofdoodles. Please check out her lovely art!

ooOoo

Episode 1: Curiouser (Part 1)

The clatter of épées echoed across the hall, punctuated only by the squeak of shoes on the smooth wooden flooring. The room was filled with duelling couples, completely garbed in white, their faces hidden behind a meshed helmet.

The instructor walked through the pairs, assessing her students' progress, occasionally barking out orders and correcting moves as she went.

"Advance with your lead foot, your lead foot, Ito! Heel, toe – not like some flat-footed buffoon! Saito, parry! Don't just attack – and, Yamada, don't forget to move from time to time!" She paused by one of the couples and swept her sharp gaze over her students. "Alright, people! Lower your weapons and head to the showers; today's session's over! Yoshioka, a moment, please."

While most of the students relaxed their stances and headed for the door, the nearest individual turned to their teacher. The helmet was pulled off to reveal dark, short-shorn hair and equally dark eyes. Her face was glistening with sweat.

"Yes, miss?"

"You've made some astounding progress in the last few months, Yoshioka, but you're still jumping too high in your lunges."

The young woman bowed her head. "I know."

"If you jump too high, you're not putting as much distance into your lunge – and if your opponent is a longer-limbed individual, then that's going to give you a definite disadvantage."

Yoshioka nodded again. "Yes, miss."

The older woman smiled. "But, apart from that, your fencing has come on in leaps and bounds. You should be proud of yourself. Now, I think you better follow your fellow students and head to the showers."

The brunette grinned. "Yes, miss."

ooOoo

Upon exiting the sports centre, Haru Yoshioka was greeted with a face full of lacrosse stick, and a second later was pulled into a hug from a familiar shorter brunette.

"Haru! How'd the fencing go? Heh, your hair's still wet..." Her friend ruffled Haru's shorter locks into spikes.

"Get off, Hiromi." Haru was beaming though as she shook off the other woman, barely avoiding a close encounter with the lacrosse stick. She passed a hand through her hair, smoothing it down into something less resembling an electrocuted hedgehog. "Fencing was fine. How was your practice?"

"Oh, it was fantastic!" Hiromi swung the lacrosse stick round in her enthusiasm and Haru had to sidestep to avoid its netted edge. "Although there was a bit of a mishap and I did almost take out Mayu's teeth – heh, oops..."

Haru swiped the stick off her friend before antics could leave their mark on her, and muttered, "You're so crazy."

"Oh, I'm crazy? I'm not the one who signed up for fencing lessons and, like, three different defensive martial arts–"

"Only two, actually..."

"You wouldn't even be able to afford the lessons if Michael hadn't lent you his old fencing gear... Seriously, though, why the sudden interest in this fighting and stuff recently?"

"Well, maybe after you got attacked by Griffin–"

"Who?"

"The crazy customer who put you in hospital, remember him?"

"Oh, come on; I wasn't that bad."

"You crashed down a set of stairs and blacked out."

"Just a bit of bruising..."

"Anyway, maybe after that incident, I decided that this city isn't quite so safe and that perhaps knowing how to defend myself might just come in handy." This wasn't exactly a lie; it was true that after the Griffin incident she had begun to consider taking lessons, but she failed to mention the fact that she was involved in a little Bureau business that had a habit of getting her into Trouble. Trouble like Griffin. Like Balthazar. Like the Doctor.

Trouble that meant being able to throw a decent punch back every now and then wouldn't go amiss.

Haru registered that Hiromi was still talking and finally tuned back in to her friend's endless chatter.

"...but the strange thing is that I was sure he wasn't human..."

Haru's brain took a little longer than her ears to kick back into gear, and all she really took notice of was that somewhere along the line, she had missed the conversation. She butted in with an intelligent, "What?"

"The guy who attacked me – I think I believed that he was half-bird or something at the time..." Hiromi laughed at the absurdity of her own words. "To be honest, I don't remember much of that incident – only a lot of running and screaming and falling and then waking up at the hospital. The doctors did say that the fall might have given me concussion, but – really... Half-bird?"

Haru laughed, but she couldn't quite be as easy about it as Hiromi. For, unlike her friend, she remembered Griffin very clearly. She knew it wasn't just a figment of her imagination – Griffin really had been half-bird, half-human... and so very mad and dangerous. Hiromi was probably better off not knowing about it.

Hiromi laughed alongside her friend, missing Haru's unease, and added, "Crazy, huh? Hey, did the police ever catch him? He seemed to suddenly disappear from the news, but I don't remember ever reading anything about him being brought to charges..." Hiromi shivered. "Just imagine if he was still running loose."

Haru's smile was bittersweet. "I don't think he is, Hiromi."

Griffin was buried beneath the very dovecot he had hidden away in. With Balthazar and the other birds' deaths, they had returned the bodies to the Bird Kingdom, back to where their families and homes were. But Griffin was different. Neither fully human, nor fully bird, he didn't belong in either world. But he had longed to be human, and that, Baron had concluded, was what mattered. Buried beneath the dovecot seemed like an appropriate middle ground.

She remembered that day; the rain had pattered through holes in the roof and they had stood before the wooden grave marker below which lay the body of Griffin. The half-creature who yearned to be more. Who had refused to be saved. And they hadn't been able to make a damn bit of difference.

Haru's phone rang, breaking her from her thoughts and Hiromi from her continuing conversation. She checked who was calling, motioned for Hiromi to quieten, and answered. "Heya, Mum... Yes, I've just come out of my lesson... No, no it's fine, I can come over... Now? ... Yeah, why not? I have time. Alright, I'll see you later..." She hung up the call and shrugged to Hiromi. "My mother wants me to come round and pick up my father's stuff. Sorry, I've got to dash."

"Sure, but why...?"

"She's clearing out the spare room, and that's where most of Dad's stuff is stored. I mean, she's not throwing out all of his stuff, but she thought I might want to go through whatever she is jettisoning."

"Oh. Good luck with that."

"Thanks."

"Oh, Haru!"

The taller brunette, who was already jogging off with her sports bag swung over one shoulder, paused and looked back. "What?"

"Are you going to have a weekend off work soon?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Why?"

"Tsuge was talking about going away for a weekend sometime and I was just... well, wondering if you and Michael would like to come along. You know, to round the group off. A kind of double-date."

"So now you're nervous and you want back-up?" Haru translated.

"Yes, please."

Haru rolled her eyes. "Does it make any difference to you that Michael and I aren't officially dating?"

Hiromi's eyes widened. "You're not?"

"No. We're just good friends."

"Yeah, but you like him and he obviously likes you so I don't see the problem in an innocent weekend away–"

"Hiromi, we're nothing official, alright? When it is, then you can go shouting it from the rooftops, but not before ..." Haru trailed off, disturbed by the dangerous glint that had just entered her friend's eye. "What?"

"You just said when it is." Hiromi's smirk was frustratingly triumphant. "Not if."

Now it was Haru's turn to blush. "You're impossible." She turned and ran down the road, but not before she heard Hiromi's replying cry of, "You didn't deny it!"

ooOoo

Naoko Yoshioka was busy with her patchwork patterns when her daughter arrived. Haru let herself in, pausing only to glance back at the well-kept front lawn before stepping inside. It hadn't always been well-kept; one day, ten years ago, cattails had magically sprung up in a single night. She smiled wanly at the memory. That had been one weird day.

"Mum? Are you in?"

"Here."

Haru slipped off her shoes and padded her way to the dual kitchen/lounge, where her mother sat, immersed, as she had always been, in her work. All too familiar with the setting, she sidestepped the discarded patches and edged her way to her mother.

"How's it going?"

Naoko waved away her daughter's question, only half-hearing the words. "Fine, fine. How was practice?"

"Good." Haru leant on her mother's shoulder, peering over at the pattern. "Where's Dad's stuff?"

"In the spare room. The boxes near the door are either going to charity or to the dump, so help yourself."

"Thanks."

The spare room had always been a mess. For as long as Haru could remember, it had been a clutter of the old and broken, the forgotten, the stuff that didn't quite have a use anymore but that they just hadn't quite got around to throwing out. Most of it was her father's stuff, kept since his disappearance when Haru was only a few years old. She had no memory of him.

An old writing desk stood in one corner, almost hidden beneath books. Across from it stood an ancient wardrobe, pre-dating the Second World War, elaborate carvings decorating its face. A full-sized mirror was draped in a white sheet, but a dusty corner still peeped out. Several large, faded paintings rested against the wardrobe's doors. And then there were the boxes.

From the little she knew about her father, she knew he had been an antique collector, fascinated with the old and the odd, and the room seemed to echo that sentiment. Just by going through the boxes marked for release, she found books with writing almost illegible through age and scrawled handwriting, tin pots and kettles with strange markings, small figurines moulded from a golden metal, and handheld mirrors with carvings woven about the framework. Everything was just so old and odd, but nothing seemed to be the personal effects of her father.

A small music box still worked, despite its age. Haru opened its lid and instead of a ballerina figure she was expecting, a dancing couple sprung up instead. She wound the key and watched the couple slowly spin on the spot, their forms strangely blurred. However hard Haru tried, she couldn't define the features of their faces.

She bit back a yawn, her eyes feeling heavy. It had been such a long day – after working at the pet store, and then the fencing lesson, and then coming all this way and...

The crash of pans hitting the kitchen floor jolted Haru awake. Her hand brought the music box's lid shut, killing the haunting melody as she spun to face the door. She sighed and shook her head. The pans had always been precariously balanced in the kitchen cupboards; even now – ten years later – they still fell out every time the cupboard door was opened...

She dropped the music box beside the rest of the items she was taking back with her. Among that pile there was one of the old-fashioned tin teapots, a grand little ship-in-a-bottle, a handheld mirror, and a beautiful fan marked with little paintings of hurricanes and whirlwinds. When she paused to look over her selection, she was surprised at the strange collection. She supposed she had inherited her father's love of old things.

"Haru! Are you nearly done?"

"I think so!" Haru called back to her mother. She carefully arranged her collection into her bag and bounced back into the kitchen, feeling ridiculously pleased with her selection. Her mother was setting out two plates of food and prompted Haru to join her. Haru took a seat, but not before she said, "Mum?"

"Hm?"

"Did Dad ever leave a message explaining why he left?"

Naoko shook her head and brushed away a few wayward patches that she had failed to clear for dinner. "No, he just left one day and never came back. He was always coming and going – sometimes he would leave for weeks at a time and come back with a new selection for his collection." Naoko smiled wanly to herself. "A couple of times he would disappear into his office–" the office was what the spare room had originally been "–and come back a few minutes later as if he hadn't seen me in days. Your father was the oddest man."

"But you loved him?"

"Yes, we were very much in love."

Haru chewed on her food in silence, her mind running through the gears. "So why did he just disappear?"

"I don't know." Naoko's gaze softened. "Are you okay, Haru? You've never spoken much about your father, but if it was upsetting you, you should have said something about it–"

Haru shook her head abruptly. "I'm not upset," she said, and it was the truth. She had few memories of the man her mother had fallen in love with, and maybe when she was younger it had been a source of sadness, but years had gone by now. Over two decades had passed since his disappearance and Haru doubted he was coming back. And yet, despite his absence, Haru had somehow fallen into the habit of calling her father Dad. It had always been Dad's office, Dad's stuff, Dad's gone... "I just think it's odd, that's all. I mean, he obviously loved all his old stuff, so why leave without it?"

"I don't know, Haru. Maybe... Maybe he couldn't come back. After twenty years, perhaps the truth is that he's gone."

Yes, the answer that explained the most was that Daichi Yoshioka was dead. Perhaps he had left for one of his trips and something had gone wrong. Perhaps he was an unmarked body in an unknown grave, halfway across the world.

"If I had known that picking up his old stuff would have caused such unease, Haru, then I wouldn't have asked–"

"Mum, it's fine. I'm not upset, I'm just... curious."

ooOoo

Hiromi was slouched in front of the TV and eating her way through a bowl of popcorn when Haru returned. For all Hiromi's sport and fitness, her sweet tooth was her Achilles' heel. The lighter brunette heard the door open and leant her head back to stare at Haru. "So how'd it go?"

Haru dropped her keys into the bowl beside the door and dropped her bag off her shoulder as she came to the lounge. "Fine. What are you watching?"

"Uh, just some chick-flick, I think."

"You don't know?"

"Hey, it was on TV." Hiromi turned her gaze back to the screen and then flicked her attention back to Haru. "Eh, some post arrived for you, by the way."

Haru was already heading back to her room. "What? When?"

"When I came back or so."

Haru had paused by the door, but there was nothing lying on the mat. "Where is it?"

"Oh, it's in your room." Hiromi abandoned her movie entirely to twist to face her friend. "It didn't come through the letterbox. I came back and was making dinner when there was a kerfuffle from upstairs. I thought perhaps you had arrived and I hadn't noticed, so I went to your room and..."

"And? And what?"

Hiromi shrugged. "And there was a note on your bed. Who's it from?"

"How should I know? I haven't even seen this mystery letter." Haru bounded up the stairs two at a time. That wasn't strictly the truth... She knew only one group of individuals who would leave a message like that. She bounced into her room, dropping her bag onto her bed and scooping up the paper. Her name was on the front; she turned it over.

There was only one word.

Come.

Haru grinned, shaking her head a little at her friends' tactics. Really now, they needed a better way to communicate... Hiromi had to be burning with curiosity over this little antic and she wasn't entirely sure how she was going to explain it. She hastily changed into something fresh and emptied her bag. She set her father's old antiques across her desk, pausing when she came to the fan.

It was an old-fashioned, lady's fan, but it wasn't quite the style of a Japanese fan. The paintings, while old, were a different make too, looking almost Western in design. She ran her fingers over the little whirlwinds painted into the fabric...

"Haru! Who's the letter from?"

Haru jumped and dropped the fan back onto the desk. "Just a friend!" she shouted back down the stairs. She had already picked up her shoes and was running back down the stairs so she didn't see the fan glow. She didn't see the little pictures light up for a mere second and then settle back down into faded glory. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't have left it there.

But she didn't, so she was rounding the stairs, pulling on her shoes and already reaching for her keys.

"Hey, Haru, wanna watch this movie with me? I have plenty of popcorn."

Haru only grinned. "No thanks. I've got to see a friend."

Hiromi leant back over the sofa, one arm resting on the back. "Why? What's happened?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

"Wait, Haru–"

The door slammed shut.

Hiromi sighed and settled back to watch her film, shaking her head silently. "Oh, Haru. You and your secrets."

ooOoo

The world is full of little secrets and mysteries. The universe is much more varied and bizarre than most humans give it credit for, but occasionally – only occasionally – a human will stumble into a little portion of that strangeness and sometimes – even rarer – that human will find themselves drawn back to that strangeness again and again...

Haru's taste of strangeness could be found in a little world that was almost, but not quite, part of this reality. It was small, but special, housing the helping organisation called the Bureau, which Haru had stumbled into ten years ago. But, most importantly, it was the home of the Creations.

Haru entered through the archway, back into the strange little world that she had found a second home in. She walked up to the pillar in the middle where a stone crow rested and tapped against its side.

"Evening, Toto."

The crow gargoyle shifted into animation, its feathers rippling into soft, ebony blackness and its eyes glittering with the glow of life. It rolled its head from side to side, ruffling its wings as it woke. Its beady eyes focused on the young woman. "Hello, Haru. I see you got our message."

"Yeah, but perhaps next time you could go for something a little more inconspicuous? I do have a flatmate, you know."

"We'll keep that in mind."

"Now, why was I summoned in the first place? Is something amiss?"

Toto cawed a gentle laugh. "Far from it. In fact, we have a bit of a surprise for you."

Haru's eyes lit up. "You do? What is it?"

"Now, now, Haru; if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise."

"I could still act surprised."

Toto laughed again and shook his head. "Baron's been working on this for the past week; I think he's earned the right to tell you."

Haru's eyebrows shot up, now thoroughly intrigued. "Okay, now I'm really curious. Is Baron in? Is it okay if I go into the Bureau, you think?"

"Haru, we asked you to come. Of course it's alright." Toto was trying to hide a grin – and failing – as he flew to the open balcony windows. "I can't wait to see your face."

Haru raised an eyebrow and knelt down by the Bureau doors. This was going to be good. She knocked and a very familiar voice called for her to enter. She had to shuffle her way through the doors and take a precarious seat on a chest, for the Bureau – like all the houses in the Sanctuary – was noticeably doll-sized.

Baron stood by his desk, managing to look pleased and surprised by her appearance, despite the fact that Toto must have just told him that she had arrived. "Ah, Haru. Glad to see you got our message."

Haru grinned at the foot-high half-cat figurine. She would be lying if she said Baron wasn't half the reason she enjoyed working with the Bureau. "I guessed only one person would leave a message like that, Baron. Toto said you have a surprise for me."

Baron looked to his fellow Creation. "Toto, it was supposed to be a surprise."

"He didn't tell me what it was," Haru hastily promised. "Only that this was going to be good."

"Honestly, Baron; would I ruin your surprise?"

"So what's the big secret?"

The Cat Creation brought out something small and silver from his desk and approached Haru. "Open your hand, please."

Haru did so, and Baron dropped the small silver thing into her palm. She was just about to inquire as to what exactly this was meant to be when it grew in her hand. Suddenly she was holding a beautiful necklace with a butterfly charm in the middle. Its wings were made from a glassy material and inside rested a strange sort of powder. She looked to Baron, mildly aware she was gaping, and then carefully placed it around her neck. "It's beautiful, Baron," she started, "but why–?"

She stopped.

She was looking Baron in the eye.

At his level.

There had been no feeling of shrinking or even that the world had abruptly grown; one moment she was towering over the Bureau and the next she was a mere foot in height. The change caught her by surprise and she released a screech, stumbling backwards over the large chest as her balance abruptly went to pieces. She remained sprawled on the floor, her head leaning an awkward angle against the wall behind her and staring numbly at the suddenly life-sized Bureau. "Wow," she eventually mumbled, "this place looks even cooler when you fit it..."

Before she had too much time to ponder the change or the fact that her neck was going numb at the strange angle, Baron was pulling her back to her feet. He did, she notice, look a little sheepish. "I'm sorry, Haru; if I had thought this would be such a shock to you, I would have warned you..."

"No, it's fine, it's... it's completely... fine..." Haru tried not to stare, but it was a little difficult. For one, she had never been the right size to fully appreciate the Bureau, and secondly... secondly, it had been quite a while since she had managed to look Baron right in the eye. It had been even longer since she had seen him eye-to-eye in a less-than-life-threatening situation.

Haru grinned, hoping she didn't look as foolish as she felt. "How did you do this? What... What is this?"

"The powder comes from a special kind of mushroom found in another world," Baron explained, "but its effects are usually short-lasting and unpredictable. I had to alter its effects so when you wear this necklace you will shrink to this size whenever you enter the Sanctuary."

"And when I leave the Sanctuary?"

"You will return to your normal height."

"Fantastic!"

"Geez, Chicky, so you're smaller – so what?" Muta had been so quiet – it looked like he had been sleeping – that Haru had almost missed him slouching against the red sofa. Now, however, he was back to being his usual vocal self. "What's so great about that?"

Haru stuck her tongue out at the fat white cat. "You're such a spoilsport."

Baron turned to the young woman. "Haru, are you happy about this? I can understand if changing sizes makes you uncomfortable–"

"Baron, didn't you hear what I said earlier? I think it's brilliant." Haru laughed and spun on the spot, admiring the Bureau from her new vantage point. "I mean, this way I can actually have a whole cup of your special blend instead of just a mouthful."

Baron smiled at her reaction. "Very well, Haru. In that case, would you like some tea?"

Haru grinned back. "I would love some."

ooOoo

Another day came to an end at the Paradise Pet Store and Haru was clearing away the last of the cages. How strange, she pondered silently to herself, that she should be working in the very same place that she once had to defend herself against a mutated eagle. For some people, that would put them off staying somewhere, but it had almost done the opposite for Haru. She finished with the last cage and detoured into the office where a young, dark-haired man was doubled over the accounts.

"We had a good haul today, huh?" She leant on his shoulder and bore down at the numbers scrawled across the page. She wrinkled her nose at the prospect of accountancy and was very glad she had opted to close up shop instead. "How are the numbers looking?"

"Well, we can carry on paying you, if that's any relief."

"Be still my beating heart."

The man glanced up from his work to grin to the brunette. This time, Haru's heart really did give a happy flutter. "I'm almost done here, so afterwards would you want to stay for dinner? You've been working here all day, so the least we can do is offer you a warm meal before we send you on your way."

"Oh, I really couldn't impose, Michael..."

"I insist. Grandpa has made vast quantities of pasta bake, so we're in serious need of extra mouths. He also made apple crumble for pudding," he added enticingly.

"Mmm, well your grandfather's apple crumble is to die for..."

"Is that a yes?"

"That's an affirmative." Haru dropped her head against Michael's, sighing comfortably at the small slice of normality that this part of her life permitted. There was something to be said for keeping at least this side of her life blissfully ordinary – instead of running headlong into perilous situations, as was more often the Bureau's way.

"That was a big sigh," Michael remarked. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Haru said – and she meant it. "I'm just... just happy, that's all."

Michael grinned. "That's good to hear." He yawned and pushed the accounts back into their drawer, stretching his limbs in the same motion. "Alright, let's head to the main house and see about food. I suppose you're hungry?"

"Starving," Haru answered. She kissed him on the cheek and headed out the door. Michael made to follow her, and then stopped. His brows furrowed. He watched the happy brunette leave, and something wasn't right. He had seen Haru go through that door countless times while working with her, but today... today something was off.

Was she... taller?

ooOoo

"Haru! Haru, you in?" Hiromi dropped her keys into the bowl and peered round into the lounge. The lights were off, the TV silent. Her light brunette hair which she had grown out longer – even as Haru had had hers shortened – was pulled out of its ponytail, which was how she usually kept it during her shifts at the Lion's Head Hotel.

She detoured into the kitchen, which proved to be as empty as the living room.

"Haru?" she called again, and – again – to no answer. She listened out for any signs of life in the apartment, before shrugging and making her way to the fridge. She flicked the oven on to pre-heat and switched the kettle on to boil. "Guess she must still be out. Not that that's a surprise anymore..."

A thump from upstairs sent the young woman almost jumping out of her skin – and, as things stood, she did spill a handful of frozen peas across the floor. She frowned and glanced above her. That had come from Haru's room...

"I swear, if it's another mystery message, I'm going to shake the answers out of Haru." She kicked the defrosting peas in the general direction of the bin – she promised herself she would clean them up later – and drifted towards the staircase. She paused, one hand on the banister as she glanced onto the floor above.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Silence.

"Haru, this better not be a practical joke. You know I don't scare easily!" All the same, she hoisted her trusty lacrosse stick from the stand and tiptoed her way up the stairs. "Haru?" she called out again, this time from beside her flatmate's bedroom. "Last chance to come clean! One... Two... AHA!" She flung the door open and jumped into the room to face... nothing.

Hiromi frozen, lacrosse stick poised for combat and shoulders tensed, for nothing. The room was empty. She lowered her makeshift weapon, shifting her feet and knocking her toes into something. At the rattle, she looked down to see that the initial noise had simply been a precariously-balanced teapot that had dropped off the desk.

She propped the lacrosse stick on her shoulder and gingerly reclaimed the fallen teapot from the floor. It was old – old and tin – and small pictures were marked along the outside. She flicked a switch and lifted the tiny images to the light. Miniature top hats and teacups were indented into the metal, and a faded line could just about be seen along the bottom. Hiromi squinted.

"Why... is a raven... like a writing desk?"

Her frown deepened. There was something undeniably familiar about that line.

But now something else caught her eye. On the desk were a collection of other items – all old, like the teapot, and almost... otherworldly – but her gaze was drawn from the teapot to a Western-styled fan. She carefully set the pot down and picked up the beautiful creation.

It was made from silk or finely-crafted cotton – age had made a quick distinction rather difficult – and the wooden ruts of the fan had faded the carvings lining its side. On the fabric small paintings of whirlwinds and tornadoes spun across its crimpled canvas. The blue of the wind had a sort of... glow to their paint.

But Hiromi didn't see any of this – or, at least, she wasn't expecting to see the unearthly glow, so to her eyes it wasn't there – but even so, there was something alluring about the fan. She flicked it open and started to cool herself with it, taking on the airs and graces of how she imagined nobility to act. "Oh, tea at the Earl's mansion? Why of course! How simply spiffing!" She executed an unpractised curtsy, hiding her face behind the fan's ever-fluttering folds. With every breath of wind the fan called up, the painted pictures glowed brighter, and an unworldly breeze started to ripple across the room. "Dance with the Viscount? Why, I'm honoured, but I simply can't! I promised this dance for the Prince, you know! I do rather think he's somewhat sweet on me, I think!"

She laughed, but now she finally took notice of the fan's eerie glow. "What the...?" She dropped the fan, but the breeze didn't die away. The painted whirlwinds grew brighter – almost blindingly so – and the air whipped around Hiromi. She tried to step away from it, but the wind just buffered her back into its centre, becoming tighter and faster until a sheer column of air circled her.

"Haru! Help! Somebody – anybody – please, help! HARU! HE–"

The wind died away, the painted whirlwinds faded back to their dull, aged colours, and silence descended on the flat. Only the gentlest of breezes stirred the empty, empty room.

ooOoo

Teaser: "AHH! I'M SHRINKING! I'm – I'm... Oh, I'm hyperventilating." / Michael glanced back and, even with Haru a few steps below him, the young woman was still at eye level. "Are you wearing high-heels?"/ She hobbled away from the bins, kicking herself loose from the black bags and vegetable peelings with what was left of her dignity. / "Baron... I'm scared."