Work Text:
Present Day
Bennett had only been in Ritou once. It was a month and a half ago, and since then, he hadn't gone back.
He still remembered first setting foot on the on the tiny island—alone, little knowledge of the language, and more than a bit seasick from the boat. Were it not for the old lady that had seen him struggling, he would've never found his way to Inazuma City.
Ritou had been crowded, but the surroundings were breathtaking. A tourist trap if there ever was one. Although Bennett didn't exactly want to go back to Ritou, he didn't want to just go back to his dorm room and doom-scroll for the rest of the day. That, and Fischl had just given him an excuse to avoid said dorm room.
prinzessin: new best friend! come to ritou! quick! your prinzessin demands you!
rota.calamtis: I'll be there.
At the very least, she had given him leeway for time, saying that it wasn't too important but it would be very appreciated if he got there as quick as he could. Bennett, who still got lost on the subway, was extremely happy about this. He wasn't even too sure what she wanted to meet up for.
At this moment in time, he had only known Fischl for about three days. He still had bruises from the day he met her, and somewhat hurt to breathe every now and then. But the flame had been quiet and unassuming since she had stepped in, so he felt that he owed her. Despite her odd eccentricities.
'Now arriving at: Ritou. Now Arriving…' the mechanical voice of the train intercom rang out. It started to slow to a stop, and Bennett was thankful. (He wasn't a big fan of the train, far to used to Mondstadt’s buses. He got nervous when the train was underground, and even more-so when it was high up. That wasn't even mentioning the shaking (which made him feel sick), the grating sound of wheels against track, or the way the constant crowding make his overheated beyond all hell.)
When the doors opened, he was out to the platform like a bolt of lightning. Mostly out of practice, Bennett also managed to hang onto his lunch (a cup of instant ramen) from earlier that day. However, that didn't stop him from feeling nauseous as people swarmed around him; their faces were blurred through his hair but he felt their presence all the same. He quickly found himself pressed against a wall, trying to gain control of his breath before he went ahead and lost it. Digging his fingers into the grooves of the wall-tiles provided some stability, along with the coolness it brought to his sweaty palms.
"New best friend!" A voice. Then following a voice, a hand on his shoulder. "There you are!"
Once he registered the sudden touch, he jerked away and his lungs fumbled around wildly for air. He looked up and met the eyes of that eccentric girl he met just a few days ago. She held a concerned look on her face, and her hand was no longer on his shoulder but instead held close to his chest.
"…If you feel the need to disgorge yourself, there are lavatories in that direction."
Bennett shook his head, and managed to force words past his throat and out of his mouth. "I'm fine, really. Did you really wait at the train station this whole time? You could've…I dunno, walked around or something?"
"Is it not considered impolite to leave behind a companion?" Fischl tilted her head. "I would hate to be a bad friend."
Bennett shrugged. Wasn't that what people did, when they didn't have anything better to do? Why wait around when you could be doing things? Just come back later, after all. And…why was she talking like that, anyway? She hadn't talked like that when they first met, had she? Except—well, she had spoke like that over text earlier that day. The first time she texted him. Ever.
"So, uh, what are we doing? Why'd you want to meet up?" he asked, wanting this to hurry up. The longer he stayed in the station the more antsy he became.
Fischl cleared her throat. "Well, my current preposition is this! First, we will visit Lady Mako's, since I have a list of things I need to buy from there. Then, following that, we'll be heading to the residential area to a house call—we have business to partake in! Lastly, probably some lunch to finish things off?"
"Lady Mako's…?" Bennett repeated, before his brain suddenly caught up with everything she said. "Wait—business? I thought we were just hanging out—doesn't Nozaki ban part time jobs anyway?"
Fischl laughed. "Affirmative! Business! You're not only my new best friend, but also my new colleague. Welcome aboard to the Great Psychic Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort's Spirit's And Other Supernatural Things Consultation Business! We have no official headquarters, but we do do house-calls, online and in-person appointments, and any type of exorcism one may require! Besides, what Nozaki doesn’t know won’t hurt them."
Bennett stared at her for one, two, three all the way to 60 seconds before his thoughts resumed. What…did I just get dragged into?
Lady Mako's was located in an offshoot of the main market-area of Ritou, tucked tightly between two larger buildings, and starkly out of place with it's rich indigo outer walls and Mond-inspired architecture. It felt sort of like the shops back home, but far smaller, gaudy, and hippie-magical. On the inside, it was only more cramped and even more blue, though it took on a more velvet theme. Some type of old, classical aria played in the background–characterized by the singers absurdly high notes.
Fischl maneuvered through the space easily, while Bennett twisted and crept after her warily. The shelves were packed to the brim with miscellaneous curiosities, gimcracks and other junk. Things balanced precariously on top of other things which were also wobbling back and forth on more things; and while most of the paraphernalia seemed unimportant and inexpensive—an equal amount looked like it cost a lot of mora. Mora that Bennett didn't have if he broke something.
It did not help that the entire place was dimly lit by a singular, blue tinted light fixture. Wonderful.
The entire time, he could feel his shoulder's brush against the shelves as he walked the aisles—which only seemed to become narrower as they delved further into the store. Fischl stopped at multiple points to grab things in ways that made Bennett's heart do gymnastics. She pulled papers from the bottoms of unstable stacks and tarot card decks that seemed to be holding up jars of plants and tiny globes; it was like some horrible no good version of Jenga. Bennett had never been too good at Jenga, and his misfortune was really no help.
While she finally finished and started to head towards the checkout, at the very back of the building, something caught Bennett's eye. Alone, somehow with nothing else surrounding it, was a pair of dice. Two of them. Nothing special or fancy, they were just black dice—one with twenty sides, and one with only four. On impulse, Bennett swept them into his gakuran pocket, and promptly forgot about them once Fischl finished checking out; she was somehow already out the store in a blink of an eye, and Bennett had to rush to follow.
"No dwaddling, dear apprentice! We have work to do!"
Somehow, Bennett found himself able to wonder how he went from new best friend, to new colleague, to Fischl's brand new apprentice. Did she even remember his name?
So back to Ritou's turnpikes they went.
Bennett considered making conversation as Fischl pulled further and further away from him—but he his brain was devoid of potential topics or sentence starters. She looked just fine on her own, walking the streets with a light and rapid steps.
Maybe I should go back to the dorm, he contemplated, but continued to go after her. The shops slowly turned into small apartments which turned into small houses which turned into the residential district. It was only once they came to a house that looked like all the others (white walls, two stories, a flat roof. Very modern) that she stopped to look back at him.
“You appear uncertain,” she said. “Is something the matter?”
Bennett shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine it’s just…uh…I didn’t know we’d be doing all this. When you asked to meet…I thought we’d just grab lunch or something.”
Fischl smiled. Bennett couldn’t help that they were taking up quite a bit of space on the sidewalk. “Hmm…It’ll be fun, I swear to it. And we’re still getting lunch, aren’t we?”
Before he had time to do any more dithering about his predicament—about this entire friendship (partnership? he still had no idea what she considered their relationship to be…and he was too afraid to ask)—Fischl knocked on the door. Three hardy ones, right in a row.
For about five seconds, nothing happened. Then, the knob started to turn. The door opened by a tiny crack; through it, Bennett could make out a person. A man, only a few years older than them—20, 21?—with unkempt white hair that fell into his eyes. The door shut again. They waited again, although much longer than the first. Bennett was about to try and call it quits when it opened again, fuller this time, where a middle-aged woman stood instead. Was she the mans mother?
“Greetings! You’re Ms. Misako Toriyama, right? You ordered a consultation earlier this week, and I am more than happy to oblige,” Fischl said, somehow doing an entire 180 from how she had been acting just a few minutes ago. She was speaking so much faster than she was before, so much so that Bennett could barely keep up. “I hope you don’t mind if my friend-slash-apprentice tags along, do you?”
The woman glanced between the two of them. “I expected you to be older…and well, never mind,” she said, then sighed like she had run out of options and they were her last chance. Upon consideration, Bennett figured this was likely the case. “Just come in…”
Upon entering, Bennett took note that the surroundings were—normal. Average. Pictures hung up on the walls, a kotastu sat in the middle of the living room, and the kitchen looked pleasantly stocked. Ms. Toriyama offered to make them tea, but didn’t wait for either of them to say yes. Fischl seemed didn’t seem phased, and asked to sit down at the kotastu.
Bennett followed suit once she did, and minutes later, Ms. Toriyama came back with three steaming grey cups. Hesitantly, he wrapped his hands around the mug and stared into the liquid. He blew on it.
By the time he looked up, the consultation seemed to have already started.
“You’re having a supernatural problem, correct?” said Fischl. “Can I ask for how long?”
Ms. Toriyama nodded. “Yes. For around a year now.”
Fischl nodded. “Well, there's a wide variety of supernatural phenomenon. Do you think you can explain what exactly has been happening? Anything that might’ve caused it?”
Ms. Toriyama nodded, but her lower lip trembled. “Well—it started small at first. Me and my son, Jun—he answered the door earlier, would hear footsteps in the hallway between our bedrooms. No one else lives in the house but us. Then, after that, we’d start seeing things in the dark…normally, I’d just contribute it to our minds playing tricks on us, you know, but…”
“But what?” Fischl pressed on. “Information on the situation is paramount.”
Ms. Toriyama continued to tell her story, in that quiet tone of voice she had started with. Apparently, there had been a death in the family around the same time the son started to become a shut-in, so she just attributed it to grief. She had managed to get him out his room every now and then but…’It’s like he’s an entirely different person.’
“Are you sure that’s supernatural in nature?” Fischl questioned again. “Not to dismiss you or anything, but it’s possible that it really is just grief. Like you mentioned.”
Ms. Toriyama shook her head. “No, I know it can’t be that…it just can’t.”
There was silence. Bennett didn’t look at Ms. Toriyama—he didn’t want to. Instead, his sipped at the tea and made eye contact with his ripping reflection. In the top peripheral of his vision he could see her hands shaking and held up to her chest. In all honesty, he didn’t quite want to be here.
“Well,” said Fischl. “I can’t promise anything will happen, but we will do our best to rid you of your problem. Can you convince your son to perhaps leave his room for the next few hours until we’re finished? I have a hypothesis.”
Jun’s room was—for all intents and purposes, a mess.
Bennett felt like, scratch that, he was intruding on something he was never meant to have laid his eyes on. Trash bags sat along the walls in towering stacks, emanating a smell that he couldn’t even begin to describe. A desk sat in the same corner as the bed, with a computer monitor and various nick-knacks. Underneath it, the computer itself—the power button blinking lazily on and off.
“I’ll be one hundred percent honest,” Fischl stated once the door closed behind them—Ms. Toriyama and Jun now both in the living room, and the two of them left to their privacy. “I do not believe Ms. Toriyama when she says it’s supernatural. Toriyama, likely, is just grieving.”
Bennett whipped his head towards her—taking a moment to differentiate their names—Ms. Toriyama was Misako, and Toriyama was Jun. Why is Inazuman so confusing? “Huh? But—I thought we were a psychic business…?”
“…Spirits and Other Supernatural Things Consultation Business, yes,” Fischl nodded. “But, it’s just that, consultation. We’re not required to complete an exorcism. That’s a separate package.”
“Then why tell her you’d deal with it?” Bennett asked, unable to keep the subtle bite out of his tone. Sounds like a scam to me…
Fischl hummed. Then, she flicked the light of Jun’s room on. Bennett shut his eyes at the sudden flash, having gotten used to it’s darkness. Now that it was brighter, he could see the griminess in more detail; plates piled up on any available surface, dirt on the walls…he didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to. He’d likely catch a cold.
Anything ‘supernatural’ is a scam, his brain continued. Ghosts aren’t real. (Wrong, the other part of his mind hisses. Stop lying—but he shoved it down before those thoughts could continue. No need to fuel the fire.)
Fischl was…running a scam business. And he got all caught up in it. Just his luck.
“Because it’s my job,” she answered, looking out to the room. Her eyes were distant. Did she even care? Then, she turned to look at him. “It’s a mess in here—let’s tidy it up. Any living space like this will make grudges and spirits appear—they feed off negative energy, after all! Now, dear apprentice, why don’t you go ask Ms. Toriyama where the dumpsters are?”
“You see, Ms. Toriyama, the ghosts have been dealt with,” Fischl said, around two hours later, Jun’s room now clean. Bennett sat next to her, trying to figure out if the smell would seep into his clothes or not.
“Just a simple trash spirit! They like to congregate in unkempt areas like landfills, dirty shrines, or even just places that haven’t been cleaned in a while!” she continued. “I doubt your sons behavior will change drastically from how it is now, but he’ll likely have an easier time getting better without those spirits draining his energy. Just a tip, if you don’t want them to reappear, then you should empty out his room more often—every day if possible, but just weekly will also do.”
Ms. Toriyama nodded vigorously, soaking up every word. Bennett swallowed down the second serving of tea she had given them as thanks and tried not to choke on it. They were lying to her…
There’s no such thing as spirits…
“Thank you!” Ms. Toriyama stood up, and bowed. “Thank you! Thank you!”
Bennett didn’t know it was possible to feel this level of uncomfortable.
Fischl’s idea of lunch is crepes. “It’s not typically what I get after a consultation,” she had said on the way, “I’d prefer a Cold Cut Platter, but there’s no good Mond-esque restaurants around here, so crepes it is!”
Bennett, not wanting to get a stomach ache from sugar later, decided to get something savory. Just the sight of Fischl’s own Strawberry Banana Chocolate crepe made his stomach do flips, and not the good kind.
Despite his protests, she had paid for both of their meals, and sat them down at a nearby bench. Bennett took a bite out of his Ham and Cheese Crepe, and let his thoughts run. Fischl hadn’t said much since they sat down—maybe she was expecting him to say something? I can’t believe we just lied to her… he thought, Ms. Toriyama’s face still fresh in his mind. Fischl didn’t seem bothered by the whole ordeal, but he was sure it was going to keep him up tonight.
“Mmmm!” Fischl said, nearly half done with her food. He was barely a quarter through his. “I’d call that meeting a success, right, dear apprentice?”
Bennett bit his lip. She was so…nonchalant.
He didn’t know what was bothering him so much; all things considered, they had done a good thing, right? Fischl had only charged Ms. Toriyama a few hundred mora, which really wasn’t all that much—he had looked at the prices of similar businesses on his phone as they walked to the crepe-place, and she was practically dirt-cheap. All of that for a full room cleaning, something that would surely benefit her son, at least a little. And, unlike what he initially expected, the girl hadn’t tried to sell the poor woman weird rocks and bath salts or anything…
Yet, he couldn’t get the bad taste out of his mouth.
“Did we really have to lie to her?” he asked. “We could’ve just…told her there wasn’t a ghost.” That ghosts aren’t real.
Fischl paused mid-bite. “Huh? What’s this about? I answered you earlier, didn’t I? It’s my job—and yours now, too. You didn’t get hit on the head and forget anything when I wasn’t looking, did you?”
Bennett shook his head. “…That’s not the answer I was looking for. I mean—was it right for us to lie to her? She seemed...worked up about the whole thing.” I didn’t even know we were gonna do this…
“Ah…isn’t this too heavy of a conversation for a first date?” Fischl waved her free hand around. “You’re overthinking it. I split the cash with you, didn’t I?”
“Date!?” Bennett sputtered. “I thought we were just…hanging out! I didn’t even agree to be your—your employee! Let alone lie to some poor lady like that.”
Instead of snapping back or whatever he expected, the girl simply looked at him through half lidded eyes. She sighed. “You really don’t get it, huh?” She took another bite of her crepe, swallowed, then leaned back against the bench. “Sometimes, the best way to help someone is to lie to them…That’s what we did for Ms. Toriyama.”
Was that really what she thought?
Lying was only a stopgap measure—Ms. Toriyama might feel better, now that they told her about the so-called “trash-spirits,” but would she stay better for long? How long till she calls some other fake-psychic business, god forbid this one, for some new problem? Maybe something even more out of their depth than just cleaning up some depressed guys room.
I hope the showers aren’t occupied when I get back, he found himself hoping. He didn’t want to be known as the kid who smelled like a sewer.
Unable to find a proper way to voice these thoughts, he just stood up instead. “Thanks for the food,” he said. “…But I don’t think we can keep being friends.”
And then he turned around, and headed in the direction of Ritou station.