Disclaimer: "GetBackers" and characters are property of Rando Ayamine and Yuya Aoki.
Amit belongs to Shahrazad; the lion plushie belongs to Atropos' Knife. May she look kindly upon these words.
To Ditch-Gospel: For always encouraging me. Thank you. I hope you can make some sort of sense of this.
No One is Ever Hopelessly Lost by Zan
The tall slim man whistled a tuneless air as he walked down the busy shopping street. Not minding the people in his way, for they cleared a path for him anyway. Perhaps it was coincidence, perhaps not. Maybe it was just to get out of the way of the long midnight coat which swirled about his legs in the brisk autumn breeze. With his hands in his pockets and that easy saunter which belied the measured steps he took. His senses were wary and at the same time purposely casual. Nevertheless, he found himself stumbling over an obstacle. Looking down he made ready to kick the offensive item out of the way. The now silent man found himself his eyes locked onto another pair of eyes.
It was a child. The man in black sighed. "Tsk." There were so many of them and really not worthy of note. Not to him anyway, at least not usually. He stepped to one side to continue on his path, when for reasons unknown, he warranted the poor thing another glance. This was not your regular street urchin. He sighed again.
"Hello, are you lost?" He looked into staring eyes, which looked as if they had been crying. The soft voiced man tried again, this time in English.
"I lost Mama and Amit." The eyes blinked back and the obvious relief at hearing a language she understood. "I don't know how to get them back." At that the little girl looked like she was on the brink of a fresh flood of tears.
"Hush now." A white gloved hand reached out towards her. "If you come with me I may be able to help you."
The girl rubbed at her eyes and decided to put on a brave front. There was something about this man which she could not put her seven-year old fingers on. She eyed him warily. From the tip of his large black wide-brimmed hat, she took in his long lithe form. The dark wispy hair which she thought was a bit messy and eyes that hid in shadow. Her mother had taught her to be always on her guard with strangers. Even so…Perhaps because she was seven years old and innocent still in the ways of the world, she thought she caught a gleam in his eyes, maybe a twinkle of laughter. She then decided to take the man's hand.
"Humph. Ohh-kay."
"We have a bit of way to go, so you mustn't let go. Do you think you are up to walking a little?" The man's voice seemed to float down towards her.
She looked up to him with trust in her eyes tentative though it was, nodded and did not seem to take any notice that the hand which clasped hers felt not like other hands.
…
The bells tinkled heralding the arrival of customers. A girl with shiny black hair materialized from a hidden storeroom and called out a welcome.
The little girl hid behind the pale man, clutching a bit of his seemingly endless coat she tilted her head a little to peek. Noticing her for the first time the waitress bounded from behind the counter with excited noises. The language really was too fast for the little girl to grasp, let alone recognize anything. She shrank back a little, but relaxed when she realized that all that the older girl wanted to do was touch her hair. She could deal with that. She was used to it by now. Anyone would think that these people had never seen curly hair before. There seemed to be quite a few with hair like her little girl ringlets. Her seven-year old mind could not distinguish the difference that hers were naturally so.
The thin man pried her fingers gently from his clothing and ushered her to a booth-table.
"Would you wait here a little please? I just need to talk to that man over there and we can get you sorted out. Is that alright?" That soothing soft voice came at her again.
The little girl noticed for the first time, the man with the dry red hair in the far corner hiding behind a newspaper and a pair of small round sunglasses. She wondered if he could see anything behind the dark of those shades.
"Here you go." The waitress chirped, as she brought her an orange juice. In English which sounded a little stilted, as with most of the people she had encountered in this country. That man seemed to speak it alright. Perhaps he was foreign too. Like her.
The doorbell jangled merrily and three more customers came in. They were arguing and their loud banter bordered on violence. Only one looked like he belonged in this country. He had black spiky hair kept out of his eyes with a bandana. Someone should tell him he had it too low because she could not see his eyebrows. Of the other two, the blond seemed to be playing mediator and the other was dark haired and had the same type of glasses as Red behind the counter. She guessed maybe it was some group thing. They spotted her at the same time and suddenly the boisterous arguing stopped and she really wanted to hide.
"It's rude to stare you know. Besides you're frightening her." The man in black spoke to them. The little lost girl was not sure what he said, but she gave a little smile because it sounded like a teacher telling his class off. She was grateful for the interjection as now their questions were for him and they seemed to have forgotten her.
…
She went back to her drink and she glanced around. It was an ordinary café-diner; clean and plain yet cozy with a nice friendly atmosphere. The little girl attributed it more to its occupants than anything else. She looked out the window. It was still early afternoon but it seemed part of the sky was dark especially over that, that tall structure looking like it had talons clawing into the sky. She also thought she saw sparking in the upper reaches of the forbidding construct, like little hints of lightning. Maybe the sun was in her eyes causing her to see after-images where there was none.
The dark haired one with the purple sunglasses approached her. Close up she could see his eyes were a deep blue colour. She thought it was odd that he did not look at her directly.
"I hear you have lost your mother." The statement said in a voice like sadness and did not match the way he was.
"You speak English too. Are you brothers?" She asked indicating the man she had followed, forgetting her fear and shyness for the moment.
"Hnghhgrk!" Purple Glasses went a bluish shade of his sunglasses.
"Oh dear me. No. That is an interesting thought though." The Black Coat smiled in amusement. The twinkle and gleam only glimpsed earlier danced in his eyes.
Laughter broke out from the other three and the girl politely chuckled. What was so funny? They had the same colored hair, they were both rail thin, pale and foreign.
"So little girl, how and where did you lose your mother?" He tried again after he recovered from his apoplectic fit.
"…and Amit." She completed for him.
"Who?"
"Amit."
"Who's that? Is he your uncle?"
"No silly. He's my dog. He's not a real dog. He's like them." She said pointing to a row of fluffy toys upon the wine cabinet.
"Ahh!"
"She told me not to let go, but she wouldn't let me stop to see the man with the balloons…and she… then I…" and all the trauma of being lost once again hit her and she started to cry, covering her face with her hands.
"Hey it's ok. What if you hang on to this one? We'll help you look for Amit. Won't we Ban?" A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Looking up at the Blond, he had taken a fluffy lion from a collection resting on the wine cabinet and held it out to her. Although she had no idea of the spoken words, she rubbed at her eyes and gratefully took the lion and hugged it. He had really kind, laughing and friendly eyes.
"Mama gave me this in case I got lost." She fumbled around in her coat pocket and pulled out a small white card. Written on it in carefully neat block letters were a name, hotel name and room number. Thank Heaven's for paranoid parents.
"What does your mother look like?" Purple Glasses asked her with a softer tone of voice.
"She looks like me, only taller." She said hoping that was helpful in some way.
"Will you stay here until we come back?" He queried as he sighed exasperatedly.
"Will he stay here with me?" Silence descended again upon everybody when they, realized she meant HIM.
"Of course my dear," the slim man answered as he walked toward the booth. Taking the seat opposite her, he asked, "Is this okay?"
"Uh-huh." She nodded her assent.
"Alright then you sit tight and we'll try to get back to you as soon as possible." Purple Glasses instructed her.
…
A silence fell over the café. Red went back to his newspaper and the waitress disappeared to the back once again. They sat there for some minutes. She took little sips of her juice while the man likewise took sips of his tea that he carefully poured from a pot. She could not help but stare at the white gloved hands. He had taken his hat off and set it down next to him earlier. He ran his hands through his hair in a vain attempt to brush the hair back from his face. The stubborn strands fell in his eyes again. She tried to stop looking so hard because her mother had told her that it was rude to stare at folk. He fascinated her, for she had never met anyone like him in all her ordinary life. It was as if she had stepped into the pages of a comic book or cartoon. Any minute Beastboy was going to come in with Starfire in tow, demanding a vegetarian pizza.
"May I ask you your name?"
"Jackal. Dr Jackal." He softly spoke his name. "What about yours' young lady?"
"It's Charlotte." She replied. "Jackal huh. That is a cool name. Did you know that the Ancient Egyptians believed that the Jackals were the gods of the underworld and that their howls were their songs for the dead?" She had to stop for breath. She blushed. She did not know what made her blurt out such irrelevant facts.
"Did they now?"
"Yes. I saw it on Discovery Channel."
"Now that is interesting. They could have been right."
"Ah… maybe," she tried to suppress a yawn. The adventures of the day were beginning to catch up to her and she was very tired.
"Why don't you lie down?" He smiled at her reassuringly.
"Ok, do you think that will be ok with the Uncle over there if I put my feet on the seats?"
"I'm sure he'll be okay with it."
"You won't go away if I fall asleep?"
"I promise."
Stretching, she curled up and settled herself on the seat. She hugged the lion plushie to her chest, closed her eyes and soon her right index and thumb had a tail between them. Smoothing the tail thus, she was soon asleep.
The man opposite her watched her sleep. Her features relaxed and the glint of the sunlight through the windows bounced off the dried streaks of her tears. It shimmered like the diamond dust of a sometime opponent - only prettier, less sinister and real. He wondered at himself. He could have just taken her to the nearest police station and have done with it. Alternatively, he could have just handed her over to the GetBackers and left her. He was not sure why he was where he was. Still he could not say he was not having fun. He could not say he did not find her interesting. Perhaps it was her ordinariness, her innocence, her faith in the world around her and her trust in him. People generally gave him a wide berth. It was out of fear or respect with fear the overriding reason usually. Not that he cared. He preferred it that way keeping the world at arm's length. To only want to get close if there was a promise of danger, a dance with death and there were so few worthy opponents these days.
He thought of her innocence and mused at the parallels between the child and Ginji. With his sweet naiveté and his belief in the basic good, that resided in everyone with no exceptions. He followed the rise and fall of her breath so peaceful and so free of worry. He smiled wryly to himself; he was free of fear too. His seeming lack of apprehension was not all real. He had one or two nighttime terrors, but they were not your everyday bogeyman. They were not so much deep-seated fears as much as deep hidden ones. That he had only folded and put away in some recess to collect the dust of memory. Sometime ago an interesting opponent once made him unfold those, but he had put them back in hope of a rematch. This girl, interesting as she was, he hoped never to see her ever again. He hoped fervently that she kept her innocence about the world. Ginji had. Somehow he had regained or would that be retained - his hold on his beliefs? Even with his darker and more deliciously dangerous alter ego residing in him. Ginji was still Ginji.
…
Jingle-jangle …
"Aah!" Jackal smiled to himself. It was all well to brush off the dust every now and again. However, too many days like this one just would not do him any good. Boredom did not augur well for folk around him. He was glad that the day was ending. For who knew, what the night would bring? His eyes shone with a feral fervor.
"Charlotte," Jackal leant over the table to gently shake the girl awake.
"Huh?" She sat up momentarily disorientated. "Oh."
The bells ushered in a rather harangued looking woman. She would be if three young men just talked her into going somewhere with them, who promised her no harm but her little girl back. They had mentioned Amit. Only Charlotte could have told them that. For the time being, she trusted her instincts against her usually better judgment.
The mother looked around and was relieved to find herself not in some gang's warehouse, or wherever it was young men these days hung out. She caught her breath a little at that dark form stood opposite her little girl. She was not sure why.
"Charlotte!" Her mother called out to her. "Is this where you've been all this time? I've been worried sick."
They ran to each other. Her mother knelt with open arms and enfolded her in a tight hug.
"Look, I've brought Amit." She disentangled herself from her daughter to give the stuffed dog to her. The tail worn down to halfway point and it looked like he had his ears sewn back on at least twice.
"I bet you've missed each other."
"I was okay." Charlotte squeezed her mother's hand assuredly. "I had company."
"These people have been ever so nice." Waving the lion in front of her mother's nose, "They even lent me this for a while."
"Here you go. Thank you. You have to look after him now." Charlotte said as she walked up to the Blond and put the lion in his hands.
The mother now approached the red head behind the counter. In an odd mix of broken up Japanese and English, she managed to convey to the man that she wanted to give some sort of compensation for the trouble her daughter had visited upon his establishment. After some moments, it seemed that they had come to an agreement.
With some trepidation, she walked over to the tall thin man in black with Charlotte's hand firmly in hers.
"I am thankful to you for keeping her safe from harm." Her mother stuck her hand out to shake.
"Oh no problem at all. It has been interesting." He took her offered hand and gripped only the three middle fingers, not quite a full hand shake yet very gentlemanly.
All her mother could think was that his choice of words was odd.
"Charlotte, they serve pizzas here. Since it is quite late would you like to have dinner here?"
"Oh yes please Mama."
"Would you all care to join us, please?" Her mother stood to face the crowd.
A chorus of agreement greeted the suggestion. The waitress then got the Blond to bring the rest of the stuffed animals to occupy the little girl with while she made the pizzas.
The tall thin man touched her mother's arm, for attention, so she followed him to one side.
"I do apologize, but I cannot stay."
"Oh Charlotte would be disappointed, she seems to have taken to you."
"I have some where else to be." The soft silky voice almost sounded like regret.
"I really cannot thank you enough for finding her, and then sending those boys to find me."
"Well, you should be careful with what you have. Some things lost are irreplaceable." The man tipped his hat to her. "I bid you and your child goodnight. Do take care; the streets of Tokyo are not to be traveled lightly."
With that, the midnight coated man with his wide brimmed hat, long lithe form and slender pale fingers disappeared into the evening autumn chill. On his way once again, whistling a tuneless air. To a trained ear, it was almost a hopeful and cheery sound.
Owari
Footnote: "The Jundland wastes are not to be traveled lightly." Ben Kenobi, Jedi master.
If you managed to get your head round this, self-indulgent ramble. I thank you humbly for your time. This came out of a conversation I had with my six-year-old girl, whose name is not Charlotte. I have left the characters nameless on purpose. I do apologize that nothing of note happens here. Now move along, move along.