One could say that every day bares birth to a new experience, new circumstances...maybe even new changes in life itself. A moment you're off to do your work, the next you get immediately sent off and the next, everything seems to grow out of proportions. Text requests here, an assortment of police investigations there...it all can either be very pleasant or very chaotic.

Today, was not one of the good days.

In this town, my presence is only really taken into context when two things happened to trigger it: Something bad has occurred and the people of this town with for someone with experience on the field to find out...or they mention my reputation and immediately lose all interest in cooperating with me. Nobody could blame them, if my tidy clothes had an unseeable yet unremovable stain of sin on them?

Personal past aside, today hadn't been good to me. The few clients that I have left are growing more "daring", getting sloppy with documents I need to complete their requests of investigation, become mad when my findings aren't an immediate result and worst of all, many keep foul-mouthing me to others or the police because I charge such "ludicrous" sums.

All I did was smile and nod, pretend I don't know anything of what they've done...still are doing.

After all, my reputation hangs on a swinging rope of thin silk that could easily be cut by them any day, any moment.

Or worse yet, by myself.

So imagine my surprise when most of that horrible time already went past and in a more spontaneous fit I went out to eat for the rest of the evening. My smell wouldn't be my best forte, yet following it along proved to provide quite a good establishment just a block away. The owners were an interesting bunch, even asked them questions a few times back in the day.

"Hey, welcome back Mr. Detective! What can this Golden Duo share with you today~?"

Nothing changed from back then, dare I say.

"Uhm...nothing information related, you see," would be the first time I uttered out this week. Personally, most interactions done were solely to discuss matters with my clients, the officials or anyone else required for gatherings. A social butterfly was something nobody would call me even in their most ludicrous dreams, after all.

The blonde-haired, muscular man didn't mind my answer though. That said, five minutes later I'd find myself with a small bowl of delicious looking noodles, panned chicken breast, an assortment of vegetables and some odd drink that I couldn't identify due to the foreign writing on the bottle's side. Something inside seemed to dissolve, but it held an intriguing smell.

Except there was one problem.

"Uhm...could I perhaps have some silverware to eat, if it's no trouble?" Both the younger-looking cook (despite me being unable to notice his eyes under that wave of hair) and the owner looked at me oddly, blinking and almost like siblings communicated with each other without uttering a single word before it clicked.

"Oh...OH! Yeah, sure, one moment," answered Mister Sakata, leaning down and fumbling with one of the cupboards underneath the counter, scrimmaging through the various assortment of knives and cooking tools until digging up a more traditional fork and spoon. They looked slightly rusted but very functional nonetheless. "Here, sorry bout that. I know it ain't golden, but we rarely to never deal with someone who can't use chopsticks, heh…"

"No issues; I also apologize for not knowing about eating any other way, you see…"

"Ah, no problem. Let's call it quits for the time being, just enjoy your bowl for the moment." Following the man's advice, I took some of the noodles, rolled them onto the fork alongside a carrot and chicken breast slice plus broth into my mouth and...just sat there for a minute or two, indulging myself in the wonderful explosion of taste that flooded my mouth. "...So good."

My mind didn't register what happened around me but it was so good that I almost got reach out for a second serving or ramen-

Perhaps this would've been a good time to notice both the loud footsteps creaking against the floorboards and the rough hand closing in, yet failing both as I was suddenly whirled around and dropping my spoon out of reflex. The stranger looked no less than a teenager...or perhaps around my age? A common business suit, tailored even. Yet that unruly ponytail and jacket stuck out from her image...and then those eyes. Green, almost like England's deep moss decorating the vast ocean sides.

I got immediately ready to make myself small again, simply nodding along or apologizing as had been common of me. Until she spoke up, the look of anger suddenly gone like the wind.

"Uhm...is the seat next to you still available?"

That one sentence has taken me out of my stupor entirely. For someone unknown, a simple stranger to wish to remain closer to myself was certainly odd. Maybe she just didn't know hear the slander of me yet. Maybe she doesn't about...him. Best to leave it unmentioned.

"Y-Yeah, it is still open to seat down upon," would be my formal reply for the moment, gesturing with my gloved hand to the free spot next to me. I had to keep them on for most of my work, so it wasn't uncommon to forget them being on my hands at the end of the day. A moment passed without any reaction, but slowly she seemed to have winded herself and moved back, taking her own bowl of food and utensils before taking a seat.

"Thank you, uhm...sorry, now I forgot to even ask for your name first," the girl continued, a hand slowly going up her head to rub at her cheek. She seemed distraught for a reason, like a deer caught in the headlights. Not that I was faring any better, honestly.

"It's fine, no need to...grow worried about that. I'm Henry Jekyll, what would yours be if I may ask?"

"Mordred. Uh, Mordred...Pendragon," answered the girl, an embarrassed shine in her expression as she turned away to avert her eyes. "Mostly everyone just calls me Mordred or Mo, however. That last name rarely comes up anyways, only when my Father is involved." There seemed to be a certain emotion whenever her father-figure was mentioned, whether it was by herself or others remained a mystery for now. Was their relationship difficult, did she hold any grudge or the sort?

"Then I shall stick to calling you Mordred, if that is no issue to you?"

"U-Uh, suuuuure? Though don't expect me to suddenly call you Henry. We don't...know each other exactly, right?" For me it seemed to make at least sense. As common as this discussion was for someone used to chatting with clients, no sort of middle basis existed. None that were familiar to both of us, at least. "That seems fair, Mordred. Then maybe would referring to Jekyll work?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess that will work."

"Good…"

"..."

Our silence had been less of relaxing nature as despite the good taste of these Ramen and my thoughts, a tinge of nervousness and anger hung left. I couldn't exactly pinpoint the sensation that was causing such an effect, but in an afterthought this worry would need to be placed aside. So gently, my fork lowered into the broth, rolling up another batch of this exquisite food-

"Oi."

For only to have that moment me broken once again by the surprise company to my right. Automatically I felt my muscles freeze up, left to spectate as her eyes zeroed in on the silverware my hands were currently occupying. 'Have I perhaps upsetted her in my food choices-'

"Why are you using a fork and spoon for this!?", would came out instead, that previous nervousness completely wiped of her face and a grumbling expression replacing it. A true fire in her eyes, a wave of confidence that was totally unexpected. "Or did Toki forget to stock up on wooden chopsticks again, huh?"

"It was ONE time and you're still complaining about this!?"

Left untouched by the surprised sideremark and still trying to process what she said, I quickly snapped out of the sudden stupor and shook my head, not even sure which kind of expression graced my face. "I-I wouldn't know how to use chopsticks because I'm used to having a fork! This is my first experience as well, might I add!"

Is it just me or how come my cheeks felt warmer than usual?

"...Well, that means you'll need to learn eventually," she said, surprisingly taking a deep breather and backing off, turning back and taking another grip of noodles. Although, her movement seemed slower, almost like she left for me to spectate each muscle and twinge. In theory it looked easy enough...perhaps I could use this later down the road. "Anyways, what's gotten you to try Ramen today? Hunger, boredom?"

And speaking about food really gave a better basis than nothing.

"To better explain it Mordred, more of a hoped distraction than the food...but nothing was eaten by me all day so this was the best option," I answered truthfully, resuming my own dinner with the smell of the food stall slowly getting to me.

"Ah, I feel you," was her sloppy answered, half-muffled by food. "Tried applying at a few places today for internship, got booted out in all of them because of my too big mouth apparently." Ah, that would explain the suit and dejected aura while swirling her chopsticks around the broth. "My Father is going to chew me out for this."

…

"What would you say if I knew not only a person with an open spot, but who would take anyone applying?"

Almost as quick as lightning did her eyes shot up, eating utensils dropping into the bowl and crossing my personal space all at once. "You know a guy that would accept me!? Really, who!?" Panic slowly came to me, remembering the painful part whenever someone asked. In silence could she my hand raised towards…

"Wait, you!? Aren't you looking like someone young enough to attend my school?"

"One could say that I...skipped a class or two to get here."

"So a bookworm then? Hm, well then I'll take it-"

"Excuse me for interrupting you," I immediately said, interjecting into the possible downturned approval. "Before I can let you say anything else, there's something you must know when working alongside me." Why must it always be so hard to talk about this? "...You see, I have been...diagnosed with a split personality. The frequency is almost zero from reports, but...I run under experimental medication to combat that. Should you agree to work with me, there's no guarantee on what can or will occur in the future under us."

No more could I look at this girl, only the floorboards with the familiar tinge of shame walloping behind my eyes. "I...would very well understand if that would remove any wish to persuade a career under me-"

"...Heh. Hehe!"

...Eh?

"Y-You can't be serious, right!? As if I'd lose a chance as easy as this!", laughed Mordred as she suddenly moved her head back, eyes closed and a joyed smirk visible while she roared. It felt surreal, to have my own moment of self-pity being shattered at once by a reaction as unpredictable as this. "That only means I gotta be a tidbit more carefully around you, no?"

This girl…

"So, when do I start Jekyll? Right now?"

She was truly something else entirely.

Perhaps this could really mark the begin of a better hope.