Changes: Part I
I was sweating buckets lugging two pieces of a suit cases through the harsh dense mexican forest. I was lucky that the dense forest was blocking out the scorching sun or else I would have fainted and collapsed right then and there. It didn't help that I was incredibly exhausted and only just recently recovered from a stomach flu that I highly suspect was caused by the drinking water at the previous village we we're in. To top that off, the moment I recovered from my stomach flu, My mentor/guardian had me run all around town to get some errands done for her.
"Kariya! Hurry up!" My mentor pleaded.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" I responded, my voice ragged and rough.
"This is the biggest find of the century. You should more energetic. You're only eighteen for crying out loud. You should be able climb up here and reach me with in seconds!"
"I barely got any sleep in that last town we were in!" I complained.
"And you're not going to get much sleep when we get there either. At least until we've finished our work. It's going to be Noon soon. That means most of the expedition is going go on their lunch break. It will be the perfect opportunity to interview all those researchers. Remember what I always say Kariya..."
"People tend to be more talkative during meals. The more they talk; The more information we have for an article." I replied. It was one of many mantras she'd always like to deliver to me whenever we go out on these long trips and cover a big scoop. She loved saying that particular phrase when it came close to meal times and there was a chance to capture that one special interview.
Once I finally climbed that hill and reached her, the dark haired woman smiled and pulled out a bottle of water from her bag.
"Got to hand it to you kid. You've been handling this work like a trooper."
"Thanks Susan." I responded, accepting the bottle of water gratefully. I took a large swig. The feel of the cool liquid down my throat was refreshing. Susan gave me a questioning look.
"Are you really sure about this? Do you really want to be a journalist?"
"Why do you think I applied to N.Y.U?"
"Because I have connections with the dean and some of the other staff members and I can easily get you accepted." she replied with sense of pride.
"Considering my grades and S.A.T scores, I don't think you'll have to pull any strings." I shot back my eyebrows raised. "Wouldn't want your help anyway." A comment like that would normally result in a snappy retort from anybody. My Godmother took it in stride however. She even chuckled appreciatively.
"I get it. I get it." She said back with a knowing tone. "You want to prove that you can stand on your own."
"Its not just that. You've helped me out so much these past two years by taking me in and even getting me interested in this line of work. I couldn't really ask for anything more."
"Your mother was like a sister to me." Susan said softly. "She's helped me out so much and has been there for me at my lowest points. I would have done anything to help her in return. Even give my life." A heavy silence fell between us as she uttered those words. The look in her eyes was distant. I couldn't blame her. Susan loved my mother deeply and she was remorseful of the fact that she wasn't there when she passed away.
Susan Rodriguez was a really close friend of my mothers. I could only fathom how close they were but it was close enough to the point that she accepted me into her home with open arms.
You see. Before leaving Fuyuki, I decided to look for anything left of my mothers. Some kind of keep sake and a way to at least remember he. When I went digging through her old room at the manor, I found a small wooden box and within the box a bunch of letters. All the letters were from a woman named Susan as well as a photo album filled with pictures of her and my mother when they were teenagers. There even a few photos of me, her and mom playing at Fuyuki Park when she came to visit her. After reading through the letters, and finding out her phone number in the latest one. I took what you might call a leap of faith and called her up. On one hand, she could dismiss my story out of hand and hang up on me. On the other hand, maybe she could offer me some sort aid or direction. From the way they interacted in their letters, Susan and my mother were as about as close as sisters. At the very least she could point me into a direction as where to get help.
"Is this Miss Susan Rodriguez?" I said in english.
"Speaking."
"My name is Kariya Matou. You may not remember me. Its was several years since we met but I am the son of Maya Matou. I need your help." There was silence at the other end of the line. I really hoped that my English wasn't too bad. I've had enough practice during my stays in Clock tower.
Still though, I had a feeling she was a little bit stunned about my identity. After about five minutes of what felt like an eternity, she finally replied.
"I see..." Alright. Not exactly the response I was hoping for or even expecting. "What happened to Maya." I took a deep breath. The last dated letter from Susan to my mother sent was last year in March. Sadly, it was the month after she had...
"Passed away." I said. Keeping my tone as neutral as possible. I knew what was coming next. She was going to ask me how and why.
She died last year because of some rare virus that that slowly destroyed all functions to her body. It started from her legs and it began working its way around. Eventually, it shut down her heart and lungs. Considering, what Zouken said the day before I left, I have feeling he was the one that killed her.
"How?" She asked.
"Illness..." I replied lamely.
"Oh." She said hesitantly, then she said something I never expected. "You're leaving the Matous then aren't you?" It sounded more like a statement then a question. I felt relieved in a way. If she already knew then that means I won't have to recount my mother's last moments. However, something felt off about that sentence though. It felt like she was expecting this call. I opened my mouth to try to comment on it, yet I couldn't find the right words. I decided to put that out of my mind for now and instead ask another question. One concerning if she even knew about the magi and the super natural. Her letters never hinted at all that she was in the know. Then again, there was a very good reason why her letters would never contain facts about our kind's activities.
"Do you know about what I am. What the Matou's actually do."
"Yes. " She responded very slowly and carefully. "We'll talk about about it later. Not now and not certainly not over the phone." That was probably about as much admission as I was going to get from her at the moment "Where are you now?"
I told her I was at a payphone at Fuyuki Park with all the bags I can carry on hand. This entire phone call felt surreal. I felt nervous but from her attentive tone and calming demeanor over the phone, I can sense she was willing to help me. For the first time since I left the Matou Manor, I felt a sweeping sense of relief.
"Good." I heard her mutter. "Alright Kariya. Before I can help you out, there is something I need you to do though."
"What is it?"
"First of all; Do you have enough money for a train ticket to Tokyo?" She asked.
"Yes. More then enough; Enough to survive for a couple of weeks even." I replied, my hands unconsciously moving to the pocket where my wallet is.
When I was old enough, my Father told me about a Bank Account that had enough money to last me for a few weeks. He gave me a debit card connected to that account. I was to use the money to purchase my own food, clothes and school supplies from that point on. More money would be deposited in it every so often from the family savings. Dad claimed that he was really big on giving my brother and I independence. Frankly, I think its because he didn't want to bother with actual parenting any longer.
Not that he did any actually parenting in the first place. He's rarely ever home and when he is, he's either drunk or hiding in his room for fear of Zoken. I think the last proper conversation I had with him was when Mom died and it wasn't so much as a conversation as it was me screaming at him not being around enough. I chuckled inwardly and bitterly at that memory. Things changed after mother's funeral.
My dad left the house for good three days after the funeral. He didn't even say goodbye. I learned later from Zoken that Byakuya and I weren't the ones keeping him there to endure the Matou life style. It was my mother and his love for her. You could imagine how I felt after hearing that. Ironically, that debit card would be his first and last gift to me that would help me survive and get me through this situation.
"Great. Purchase a train over to Yostuya in Tokyo. There is a someone there that will take you in for the next couple of nights. He's a priest at Saint Ignatius Church. I'll call him to let him know you're coming. He's a busy man but he'll definitely be at the station to pick you up and take you to the church. He also knows the truth about your lifestyle: So you don't have to worry about keeping your family secret around him. His name is Tatsuya Nakamura. He's a good man and very honest. I'll fly over in a couple of days once I settle some things here. I'll pick you up and you can stay with me at the states."
I remained silent as she gave me the address to the church. All things considered this was going surprisingly well. A gut feeling told me however, that something wasn't right. After taking a calming breath I finally voiced part of what was bothering me.
"Forgive me Miss Rodriguez but there is something I'd like to know." I took another breath and asked. "Why are you so quick to help me? Don't get me wrong." I quickly added. "I appreciate it and all but I have wonder. It's been eleven years since you've came over and visited mom and I. We're as good as strangers." The journalist on the other end remained silent, weighing her words carefully.
"I don't blame you for being suspicious." She said. "Considering the kind of life you, your mother and others like you have lived, trust is not an easy thing to come by. For all you know, I could be part of a rival family that seeks to ransom you to your grandfather. Its been years since you've seen me. You barely even remember probably. You'd definitely be to taking a huge leap of faith right now if your purchased that ticket."
"Is there anyway you can prove that I can trust you?"
"No." Susan replied honestly. "All I can say is that you should trust your instincts. They won't always steer you wrong. It could also help to evaluate what you know and what other options you have available."
She has a point. I closed my eyes tightly as I pictured all the possible choices I have available to me. Unsurprisingly, I came to the conclusion that I really had only two options from the beginning. Its either go on the run and try to stay under the radar and hope that grandfather could not find me or trust this old friend of mom; A woman that I barely remember. Jump into the unknown or jump into territory I've at least somewhat seen. In the end, the conclusion I came to was easy. She was right. A leap of faith is what I may need to truly get out of trouble. I just hope she doesn't turn out to be a demon in disguise.
"I'll see you in a couple of days then Miss Rodriguez." I finally spoke.
From then on things began to happen at a rapid pace. After a three hour train ride, the meeting with the priest, and four days of waiting, She finally arrived. I remember the first meeting like it was yesterday. She walked into the church sporting shoulder length dark hair, very tan skin and dressed in a grey woman business suit with a long skirt. First thing she did was smile warmly at me say "You have your mother's eyes. It good to see you again Kariya. Its been too long."
After that, we talked, and she told me the whole story about my mother and how they met. As it turns out, Susan's father was part of an group of Executers which broke away from the Burial Agency. The Burial agency was a secret origination of the Holy Church. Their job was The group called themselves the Order of Saint Giles and they broke away because they no longer agreed with the Church's policies concerning the hunting of heretics and monsters.
Unfortunately, breaking away from the church meant that they lost all their funding and means to maintain their equipment. In order to continue fighting the good fight, the order had to do some mercenary work for less then savory individuals. Individuals like my grandfather.
Way before I was born there was a magus that entered Fuyuki city that was actively hunting Magi for their crests. He was powerful and known to have been able to take down heirs from family's that were thousands of years old. With a threat that had the potential to destroy the very foundations of the city and endanger their ancient magic crests; My Grandfather and the Tosaka heir at the time decided to make an alliance to hunt this magus hiding in the city. Grandfather didn't want to leave his family defenseless though. After all, he was still awaiting for an heir that would have the ability to wield magecraft.
So he used what contacts he had to hire a member Order of Saint Giles for bodyguard work while he and Tosaka played predator to another predator. For five months, Susan's father: Miguel Rodriguez along with Susan herself (who was constantly traveling with her father.) moved into Matou Manor. It was at that point that she met my mom and the two formed a bond while living together that would last for many years. Mom even made Susan my official godmother when she gave birth to me. Which made things incredibly easy for her to bring me over to the states.
Come to think of it, Mom may have been plotting to send me to live with Susan in the states all along. In the time leading up to her death, she was acting differently. She seemed more on edge then normal, and she would spend hours in her room without a word to anyone. She'd always give me this look that contained a sense of sadness at the same time resolve.
On her death bed, it seemed like she wanted to tell me something, but by then the virus was at an advanced enough stage, that it had destroyed her vocal cords, and impaired her hand's motor functions. She could never vocally or through writing tell me what she wanted.
My life certainly changed since the day Susan took me to live with her in America. One of the most notable of changes would be where I would be living. I went from living in a dusty old Manor in Fuyuki to a penthouse apartment in Chicago. There was also the culture shock of living in another country.
The way American's lived was far different then what I was used to. People were very forward and upfront with what they wanted and what was on their mind. Susan, was no different. If I did something to annoy her, I definitely hear of it. If I'd say something insulting, she'd would certainly give me a piece of her mind. In the first three month's of living with her, I quickly learned of the type of woman she was. She was very hot headed, nosy, and had insight and perception that boarded on being super human. Considering where I've grown up and how I was raised, these were traits of hers would inevitably clash with who I was at that time.
Those first three months were hardest to get through. Fitting in school, getting used to the vastly different (and in my opinion) inferior food. The awkwardness of living not just with a stranger but also a woman that wasn't a relative even though she herself was as old as my mother. Bare in mind, that I came from a country where such things were usually frowned upon.
Susan initially came off as very fussy and at times overbearing when dealing with me. She'd always cook more food then I can finish; That would always leave me feeling guilty for only finishing half of my plate. She'd do everything she'd can to get me to talk a bit about myself and about my day. It was Something I was not privy to do considering I was a very private and withdrawn person in the first place; I was also still trying to adjust to living in entirely different life. I had a tendency to keep to myself.
Everyday; After school, I'd always head up to my room and lock myself in, do some homework and spend the rest of the flipping through t.v channels or reading some random book I happened to borrow from the school library. Susan would come home from her work at six at night; Sometimes she would come later then the usual and she'd cook some dinner.
Dinners during that first month were painfully awkward. The only thing we both had in common was Mom and I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk about her during that first month. Susan would try to get me to open up in other ways. One of them included telling my about her day and some of the things she did at work in hopes of allowing me to share a bit about myself. Her words had a tendency to end up falling on death ears mainly because I usually, I wasn't really interested.
Now and then; My thoughts would always drift back to Fuyuki. I couldn't pinpoint what it was, but part of me always longed for being back at the Manor in general. I sometimes missed the days where I was wandering the city when I didn't have an upcoming exam or I was generally bored at the mansion (Which lets face it. I was bored most of the time.). I missed the feel of the featherbeds I had in my room which would sometimes cause my back to ache. Hell, I even missed my brothers boasting whenever we were among some of our more mundane acquaintances. I even miss having to wear a uniform for school. When I look back at my time there, if you ignore how awful Zoken was as person and my father's withdrawn nature and alcoholism; Life wasn't horrible just empty. In a sense, I found solace in that kind of emptiness and solitude.
The second month though was when things began to shift. Susan began to drag me out of the house and accompany her on shopping trips. I would try to refuse and very politely tell her I didn't want to but with her astounding way with words an attitude which refused to back down. I did my best not to roll my eyes as she asked me how her outfits looked. I'd always try to go with a soft "It looks great on you." or "You look pretty?" Never quite sounding like I mean what I say. Really. How was I supposed to know how to compliment woman? When my mom was still healthy, I didn't have go with her on these kinds of shopping trips. I didn't even help her go grocery shopping with her. The whole thing was a pain, yet she was persistent on making me come with her. She even saw fit to buy new clothes for me.
In the third month, there was a turning point. There was a moment which would have either made or break our relationship. One day, out of the blue, Susan placed a photo of her, my mother, and me when I was five on top of a small table near the couch.
Now, for the record, I've spent a good time avoiding any reminder of home. The only keep sake I even have was a similar photo with Susan and my mom while she was still pregnant with me. The reason why I even took that photo with me in the first place was so that I could recognize her when she came to meet me at St. Ignatius. I've spent a long time trying to bury memories which I've kept bottled up and forgotten.
"What do you think?" Susan said. I turned around and found her standing right behind me, a kind smile on her face. "It took me ages to dig up. Lots of clutter I had to dig through and considering how busy things got over at the office, I barely got any time to go looking for that photo. Barely even have energy after running around for that tyrant of an editor."
"Its nice." I replied neutrally. Susan frowned.
"Alright kid. What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?"
"You always wear a frowny face whenever something bothers you."
"I told you. The photo looks fine."
"I'd thought you'd be happy with a keep sake from home."
"I'm fine with it."
"Are you happy with it though?"
"I said it looks fine. Isn't that enough?"
"You're ignoring the question." The journalist replied. She was looking clearly annoyed at this point.
"Why should it matter whether or not I'm happy? It's your home." I replied with a forced smile and as polite a tone as I could muster. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say and do because she began glaring at me.
"Oh I don't know." She replied sarcastically. "Maybe because you live here too. After all, this is as much as your home as it is mine.
"Fine. I'm happy with it. Are you satisfied now? Lets just drop it." I stated. I had no clue what her problem was.
"Don't lie." She snapped. "You're clearly unhappy about the picture being there. What I want to know now is why." I shifted my feet uncomfortably. I didn't want to answer that. I was happy with how things were between us. This conversation was headed in a direction I didn't like.
"Can we not talk about this now? I have to..."
"I know you're done with your homework and we're going out to eat for dinner in an hour. You're not getting a pass kid."
I hesitated then. I really didn't like go into what I really thought about having a photo there. Go there would mean I'd have to open up. Something I've been happy not to do. After all. I was happy with this metaphorical barrier I placed between her and me. I wouldn't step on her toes and get her upset and she wouldn't hurt me in return in anyway.
"You've been living here for three months now. I rarely ask anything from you. I know you appreciate you're own personal space which is why I've never gone or will ever go Gestapo on you. As matter of fact, you've been a wonderful guest. Far more helpful around the house then any room mates I've ever had. Far politer too. Too polite though. Most of that politeness I know is false and that's one of the few problems I have with you; You're not a guest in this home. You're my family now, eventhough we're not blood related." She took a deep breath and gave me a tired smile. "And I appreciate a little honesty from family."
Truthfully, I didn't know how to feel about that nor how to respond at first. At the time, To me; Family meant avoiding Zoken whenever possible. It meant carrying my passed out father upstairs to his bedroom. It meant squeezing my dying mother's hand and watching her wither and wilt like an uncared for flower. Her concept of family was very foreign and felt very alien to me.
"I don't like that photo." I finally said after a moment's hesitation. Susan let out a satisfied smile however.
"At last! Progress. " She responded a little too dramatically "I already knew that but I'll count that as a step in the right direction. Now my next question is: Why?" I paused again, trying to weigh my own words carefully. At that moment, I came to realize some thing.
"You know why."
"I'd rather hear you say it." Susan said. "Come on kid, I went through this with Maya when I was staying over at Fuyuki..."
At the mention of her name, I turned my head away. Susan looked over at me curiously.
"How long has it been since you've thought about her." I chose silence over answering that question. However, Susan wouldn't take silence for an answer. She kept pressing.
"She's been gone for how long now? One year? In all that time you haven't even thought about her. Or rather, you've been trying to push thoughts about her out of your mind. In fact, the first day you came and I helped you unpack your things; I didn't even see so much as a photo of her when we finished settling you in your room. Every time I try to bring her up, you've always had this mysterious ability to dodge or deflect the subject."
"Again. You already know why. So what's the point of me saying it out loud." I stated. The dark haired woman's eyes widened then she let out a soft chuckle.
"Wow, you're almost as bad as her when it comes it to these things. The point I'm trying to make is that you've bottled up a lot of the bad stuff. The main thing being bottled is Maya's herself.
"Considering how she died, I really don't want to talk about it." I replied mildly. For some reason Susan's smile widened.
"Is that really all you remember about her. Her death?" She shot back. I was about to retort. Then I found myself pausing. The image of her frail body on the bed, her pleading look towards me. Was that really the only memory I had?
"When I was twelve." Susan spoke again, her voice serious. "A Dead apostle who had a grudge against my father located where my mother and I were living, broke into my house and killed my aunts and uncles living there saving my mother and I for last. The Apostle in question had my mother and I bound and gagged. I was forced to watch as my mom was tortured. She was skinned alive first, her heart ripped out and regrown due to the Dead Apostle's magecraft, then lastly, her stomach was sliced open, and her intestine spilling to the ground in a pool of blood. The apostle began devouring he flesh. He was about to do something similar to me but my dad managed to come home in time and fight and finally finish him off."
My mouth opened up, then closed, then opened up again. That was repulsive and horrifying. The way she was talking about it. It wasn't the subject matter that disturbed me but the ease in which she told me the story. Susan continued on.
"A few years after that incident, that's how I remembered my mom. I still have nightmares of it. Something like that never completely leaves you. It changes you. Before, I wanted to be a hunter just like my papa was. After going through that however, I never wanted to have anything to do with the super natural world ever again.
That was unfortunate because from that point on, Papa always dragged me with him wherever he went. He felt that he could protect me better then any of my other relatives or a foster family. He even went out of his way to train me in some of the ways of an Executor in case we got into a situation where we were separated and under attack. Of course when I was old enough, I opted to leave that world behind me."
She went quiet, letting me absorb what she had just told me. In some ways she was a lot like me. Leaving behind that life and trying to live among the mundanes. However, she was a lot stronger then me. Had my own mother went similar way; I would have pretty much lost my mind.
"Gives you a bit of prescriptive doesn't it." She said at last. "For so long, thats how I remembered mom. It took time but then I began to remember all the good memories again. Teaching me how to dance, trying out new restaurants together, family game night..." Her expression turned nostalgic as she went into the good times she had. It made me happy, sad and a little jealous for some reason. "Well then Kariya, what are the good things you remember?"
At first I didn't have an answer. Her death was still fresh in my memory. It took some time, and Susan was very patient but I finally came up with something.
"I don't know if this counts but whenever she dragged me out grocery shopping, One of the first places we'd go would be a book store in the corner..."
"She still did that?" She said with a surprise. She giggled afterwards.
"Yeah.." I responded slowly. "She'd never buy anything though just browse through the manga section. Do you know why?"
"I'm surprised you haven't figured that out?"
"I had my guesses as to why, but considering she's a Matou..."
"You're mother was huge geek back in the day. Still is from what you told me. Being a Matou doesn't means you can't be a nerd.
"I don't know. She never really acted like that around us."
"Well. There is a pretty good reason for that. Zoken when he held at least a little hope for Maya, always had a stick up his ass about what she did and who she associated with. Your good old Uncle Saito, while he was still alive, didn't really help matters. He was always doing everything in his power to kiss up to him. That included correcting Maya on some of her behavior or habits. God that man was an asshole."
"Wait? Uncle Saito?" I asked confused. Susan's frowned in confusion.
"Oh? They never told you about him? That's surprising considering what he pulled." She remarked.
"I didn't even know I had an Uncle Saito. No one ever told me about him. What did he do?"
"He ended up betraying Zoken." She responded, her expression darkening. " Or tried to at least. Received retribution in return. It wasn't pleasant from what Maya told me.."
"What happened to him?"
"You don't want to know." She replied. The way she voiced that meant that she wanted me to drop the subject. I wisely did so.
"Anyway." She continued on. "When I got to know her better and she became more comfortable around me, she'd always drag me to the book store after school. We'd spend hours there. At times, Maya even finished an entire series in one after noon. She was a pretty damn fast reader. Which wasn't a surprise considering how well she did in school..."
It was so weird, hearing about this side about Maya. As Susan went on though, I felt like a got a better picture of who she really was. She always held the facade of a proper Matou aristocrat with shades of a traditional motherly figure. The more she talked about their friendship, the more I began to see echoes of that side of her in my memories. In the way she raised me and Byakuya.
"Then one day I had enough. I mean I've grown to love book stores and maid cafes but I wanted to do something different. I told Maya one night, after we left Homurahara for the day, that we'd go to karaoke with some male friends I made at school. You should have seen her expression. It was as white as snow.
She says to me 'Rodriguez-san. It would be improper for a Matou to preform such an unsightly acts.'
Of course it was easy to shoot that statement down with 'Isn't it improper for a Matou to read manga.' go to anime conventions and maid cafes.' She of course was scrambling to come up with another excuse. In the end, I won out. We went to Karaoke, and wouldn't you believe it. She actually let loose. Got her first kiss that night. Which was a surprise to me because I thought all Japanese girls had to go through these elaborate rituals in order to even tell a guy you wanted to go out with him. I mean, that still confuses me to this day. Who really does that? I know for a fact that if a girl slips a love letter into a locker of a guys she likes here, They'd be deemed as stalkers."
I found myself laughing at that point. The first genuine laugh I've had in years. It was apparently infectious because Susan joined in. Five minutes later when things calmed down. She stood up, and went for her coat.
"Come on. We'll continue this at dinner. What are you feeling tonight? I'm thinking Italian. Maybe Carmines."
"I was thinking Katsu actually." I responded. Susan rolled her eyes
"They're expensive and they serve such tiny portions." She complained.
"Carmines is also expensive and their portions are to big! Besides, Katsu was enough fill me up last time we went." I frowned.
"Of course it was. You're nothing but skin and bones."
"Hey!"
"Just telling it like it is kid." Susan put in. I chuckled despite that and grabbed my own coat.
"Well. We have to decide on something."
"Flip a coin for it then?" She suggested.
"Sure why not?" I shrugged. She pulled out a coin and flicked into the air.
Things got monumentally better between us after that day. My life as a whole got better after the talk. The moment I opened up to her more, I began opening more at school. I ended making some good friends and became more active. I even joined the school newspaper one month later, although that was more Susan trying to get me interested in her line of work.
I did end up enjoying it immensely despite Susan pressuring me to sign up. There was a certain mystique about being a reporter. The interviewing of people. The reporting of local events. That sense of accomplishment one gets when typing and finishing an article.
Susan even took me with her to see her work at the Chicago Tribune. It was a slow news day save for a couple of murders that occurred the night before. Obviously, we didn't go because the parts those murder occurred because those neighborhood tended to be less then safe.
Still, from talking to her friends there and hearing of some of the amazing things they did, I was definitely intrigued and I when I had summer vacation, I asked Susan to take me with her whenever she went out to interview some well known figures in Chicago or cover local events. Susan happily obliged to that request and soon after seeing her really work and her passion for the job, I ended considering journalism as a career choice.
Sure, there was tension between us sometimes. We'd argue about household chores or who's cooking that night. Every now and then I'd bottled up something that was bothering me and every now and then Susan would pick up the fact that something was bothering me and pressed me which got annoying sometimes.
Looking back at it though, to be honest, Those two years in Chicago were the happiest I've ever been. I finally came to terms with Mom's death and for the first time I truly learned what being part of a family actually means.
After about ten minutes of resting, Susan and I finally made our way to the campsite. It was a good thing that it was only a five minute hike away. If I kept this up any longer. I would have ended up collapsing and begging to go home.
"Here we are." She exclaimed. "Chichen Itza! Look at it Kariya. Isn't it awesome?" She gestured to a set of old buildings in the distance. It looked like any other city I've seen in history textbooks or historical documentaries: Very Ancient, very dead and I dare not say this out loud; Very boring.
"Still couldn't see why you couldn't cover that fashion show. I would've been more then glad to help you out there."
"You just wanted to ogle the models you perv." Susan teased. "Still. Now that you mentioned it. I know Thomas Raith was to be part of that show. Would have been more then willing to catch an interview with him. Now there's a heavenly looking man."
"So why didn't you?" I asked. She frowned deep in thought.
"I don't really know why actually. The moment I heard this job was up for grabs; Well, I wanted to go. Besides, I need to get away from Chicago every now and then. Especially with how hot the weather's been getting."
"I don't know. Mexico is feeling mighty warm right now." I commented.
" 'Mighty warm?'" She giggled. "What are you? A southerner now."
"Lets just say I developed in interest in country music lately." I said
"Riiiight. I'm sure it has nothing to do with that young Southern Belle who moved in across the hall before we left."
I went slightly red at this statement and looked away pointedly. This caused Susan to laugh.
"If her parents don't mind, I'll invite her out to dinner one of these da-" She stopped suddenly.
"Are you alright?" I asked, looking back at her. I couldn't exactly describe how she looked. It was somewhere between worried and scared.
"Nothing its... just that."
"Just what?"
"Have you ever been in a place you know you've been to for the first time in your life but when you arrive you somehow feel like you've been there before?" She asked with a puzzled expression.
"I don't think I've ever had that feeling." I replied frowning. Before she could elaborate further somebody approached us from the distance. It was a woman with shoulder length black hair, sporting a dark suit that wouldn't look out of place in 19th century but stuck out like a sore thumb in these ancient ruins. In fact it reminded me of what the Lords or dukes at clock tower would wear even when there were no classes.
"You must be Susan Rodriguez." The woman said with a formal yet welcoming tone. She offered her hand to Susan and Susan in return smiled and took it. "Pleased to meet you."
"I am she and you must be Arianna Ortega. Thank you for welcoming me and my assistant."
The woman Arianna looked at us thoughtfully before she let out a bright smile. Clapped her hands and spoke:
"You two must be tired and starving after that trip. Come on, Lunch is about the begin and I assume you'll want to get yourselves cleaned a bit afterwards." Susan and I perked up at the prospect of lunch and bath. Soon, we found ourselves eagerly following her to the campsite.
Authors Note: Welcome to the third part of the prologue. Originally, this section in Chichén Itzá would have been only one chapter but I felt that establishing the relationship between Susan and Kariya was paramount because of the big events that are about to go down in the next chapter. I felt that in order to add more of an emotional impact to those events, it was necessary to give the reader a better picture on their bond. What do you think? Did I do it right. What their first argument (Which I know was one sided) forced or natural. Did Susan come off as a bit of a helper sue? Just let me know and Review below!
P.S. I'd also like to add, at least for my plans for the story in general; That there will also be Nasuverse counter parts to Dresden Characters. For now though, a majority of them will not have roles parallel to their characters in the Dresdenverse save for a few characters I choose like Susan.
P.S.S In regards to how I'm treating Nasuverse Magic and Dresedeverse magic for this story: They'll be treated as two separate in born abilities. The biggest difference being that you need magic circuits to use Nasuverse magic however killing somebody with Nasuverse magic won't corrupt the soul. For Dresdenverse magic, It's going to be a simple natural ability to effect the world and reality around you through belief and emotion. When Kariya arrives in Dresden world, through Zeltrch hijinks, he'll develop the ability to use it as well gain some of the disadvantages when it comes to being a Dresdenverse wizard and talent.
Any advice on how to further separate these two styles of magic is more then welcome. Adhering to the rules for both will most certainly be a pain. I'm well aware that there are some Type-Lunatics out there who are more then happy to tear this story apart if it doesn't follow those particular rules strictly. I both welcome and dread that happening but I'll take whatever critique I can get at least.