Disclaimer: I seriously don’t own Witch Hunter Robin. How many times do I have to explain it?
Robin: *answering naively* Every time you write a chapter or a one-shot.
Puff: *glare* *muttering* Ok, there’s probably going to be a lack of proper characterization, but I’ll try my very hardest to get my muses to stay within their personas… I mean, it’s only understandable that they’ll all be out of character, with what I’m putting them through. *Evil Laughter* Oh, and there will be spoilers for the series as I go along with Adult Swim, K?
Chapter One: What?!
It was a nice, calm day for the STN-J. There wasn’t any witch activity that they could monitor, so that meant they didn’t have any cases to attend to. Needless to say, it was boring. Even Doujima wanted something to come up, as it had been at least a week since anything interesting happened.
Amon had decided to take Robin with him as he cruised the city, looking for a hint of a witch that the surveillance system couldn’t pick up. The flaxen-haired craft user didn’t know what purpose she served, since she didn’t know what to really look for like Amon did, but she wasn’t going to say a thing.
After hours of pointless search, Amon conceded to the fact that Michael’s systems hadn’t missed anything. Unfortunately, the very idea that he had nothing to work on had put Amon in a highly sullen mood that had Robin inching away from him in her seat.
“Maybe something really good will show up later or tomorrow,” Robin said quietly, never taking her green eyes off of her delicately folded hands. If she had looked up, she would have seen a pair of near-black eyes melt momentarily.
“Perhaps,” Amon stated nonchalantly, staring straight ahead on the road. Robin was now looking at the ominous gray clouds just on the horizon. As the girl looked at the imminent storm, a heavy sense of foreboding fell upon her. She shivered in an unconscious attempt to cast off the dark feeling, but to no avail.
“Are you cold?” Amon asked frigidly, not quite understanding why he said anything. Robin looked over at her partner, wondering what had caused the sudden question.
“No,” Robin said plainly as she twisted her pendant around a bit, then looked at the sinister cloud bank, “The storm, when I looked at it, I felt like something was going to go terribly wrong.” She had caught her lower lip between her teeth was apprehensively chewing on her flesh. Amon had to fight an unexpected urge to reach over and touch her, to smooth her hair or run a finger along her jaw line, any attempt to soothe her feelings. Instead, he just let a little of his horrid mood melt off; he was still trying to figure out this girl and the way that she calmed him without trying.
Silently, the hunter parked his car and got out. He waited a few seconds for Robin to catch up before he strode into Raven’s Flat and to the office. As they walked in, their co-workers glanced up momentarily before turning back to whatever they were doing. Amon shrugged off his coat and was surprised by Robin waiting off to his side, holding out a slender hand so she could hang it up. He handed her the heavy length of ebony material and went to talk to Michael.
Six hunters sat around chatting idly, reading over old cases, or sulking. Around four o’clock, their prayers for anything interesting to happen came true. It began with a telephone ringing.
“Yes. Really? Are you sure? I’ll be sure to tell him. It’s urgent? All right,” the chief’s assistant said into the phone receiver before he set it down, “Amon, there’s a girl in the lobby waiting for you.”
“Doesn’t this seem familiar?” Sakaki asked cynically, glancing at Robin, “I hope she’s not a new hunter.” The group of five watched as Amon reticently walked to the elevator.
“She’s probably Amon’s girlfriend or something,” Doujima said sweetly, though her voice was backed by some hard-to-identify emotion.
“You said that when Robin showed up,” Michael said, shaking his head, “And you were wrong then and you’re probably wrong now.”
“Robin, you’re Amon’s partner,” Doujima said, “Does he have a girlfriend?” Everyone knew Amon didn’t talk much, but they were curious. For a split second, the craft user contemplated saying something about her suspicions about Touko but decided against it. In reality, she just saw them walking together and Touko did deny they had a relationship.
“He never talks about his personal life,” Robin said softly, leaving out the fact the only time he really spoke to her was to give an order or to chastise. They all looked up when they heard the elevator doors open and watched Amon re-enter the office. Of course, they were thoroughly shocked by the sickly Japanese girl around twenty and the toddling little girl holding her hand that accompanied him to the office.
“Isn’t this against regulations?” Robin asked in a whisper, leaning slightly towards Sakaki who was nearest to her at the moment.
“Yeah, but Amon is, well, Amon,” Sakaki said in response, “I don’t think that most regulations apply to him.” Robin slightly nodded her head, signaling that she understood.
“What did you have to say to me that you couldn’t say in the lobby,” Amon inquired icily, glaring at the girl. She cringed at his cold tone, contorting her already drawn features.
“It’s worse here. Do you have anywhere we can talk in private?” Reika asked right back, before she coughed violently into her hand. Robin looked at her and could tell that she was desperately ill. Her face was feverish and pale, and the fresh blood on her hand was a good indication of some sort of advanced lung disease. Amon ushered the girl into the conference room, while she left the small child.
“What’s your name?” Karasuma asked as the little girl walked around, apparently taking in her surroundings.
“My name is Javan,” she responded instantaneously, her gray-blue eyes twinkling. She smiled brightly, before plopping herself down on the floor. ‘Ahhh, resounded throughout the room. Robin stood up and walked over to Javan.
“You have a very pretty name,” Robin said, offering the child a hand to hold while she waited for her mother. For some reason, Robin seemed to be drawn to the child.
“Thank you. What’s your name?” Javan questioned, one of her tiny, pinkish hands on her hip.
“I’m Robin,” the craft user said, picking the child off the floor and carrying her back to her chair.
“I like your name a lot,” Javan said, reaching up and playing with Robin’s bangs. The blonde girl smiled happily, smoothing down Javan’s tousled black hair. For a few precious moments, everything was calm in the office.
“What?!?!” was heard being yelled from the conference room. Amon stormed out a few seconds later, the girl he had been talking to was clutching at his shirtsleeve and crying. Her tears of anguish were punctuated by the fact she coughed blood every few yelps.
“Michael, how long would it take to run a complete genetic scan?” Amon questioned unemotionally, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had a rather emotional female crying right beside him.
“About a day,” the hacker responded instantaneously, knowing that this wouldn’t be the time to be slow with the info. Amon thought about it for a moment, strode over to Robin, plucked the small child from her lap, and handed her to Michael.
“Compare her genetics to mine,” Amon ordered, prying Reika’s fingers from his arm forcefully. Her fingernails were starting to dig into his flesh and he wasn’t enjoying it.
“How can you deny your child?” Reika asked angrily, shoving Amon back as the tears streamed down her pale face. A collective gasp resonated, with the other members of STN-J glancing at each other in confusion. Doujima looked happy with herself; she had been half right with her guess.
“I don’t know the child is mine. That is what the genetic scan will determine,” Amon said calmly, his visage utterly void of emotion. He pushed a piece of his dark hair out of his eyes, so he could appraise the damage to his arm.
“Of course Javan is yours. What would I have to gain from lying?” Reika asked, all of her fighting spirit seemed to be drained from her thin form. She let herself fall on to the floor, coughing up even more precious blood as she sat.
“If the child is mine, I would have to do the right thing and marry you,” Amon began to point out, not even bending down to see if Reika was all right. A look of shock, confusion, and anger shot across her features. She brought her elbow violently into his shin. Amon winced slightly, but didn’t retaliate against her; he knew that he should have worded a few things differently, like not making himself sound like a prize.
“That doesn’t matter to me. I’m going to die anyway. I just want our daughter to be with her father after I’m gone,” Reika wailed, the tears streaming from her eyes mingling with the small amount of blood around her mouth. Robin couldn’t stand it anymore, and walked over to offer Reika a shoulder to cry on. She was welcomed well, as the upset girl swept her into a tight hug. Over Reika’s head, Robin shot Amon a vicious glare that burned into his eyes like a hot poker straight from the flames.
“I’ll get started on that genetic scan,” Michael said, carrying the little girl to another room. Javan really didn’t need to see any of that, nor did she need to see anything that may come up. Karasuma, Doujima, and Sakaki followed him, as they realized that Amon and Reika may have needed to talk alone. Robin had no choice in whether she could stay or go; the ill girl still held onto her like a lifeline.
Amon stood around for a few minutes, feeling very out of place. He wasn’t one to deal with emotions and here the air was hung thick with them. Eventually, he sat down on the floor like Robin and Reika. His dark eyes danced over the two girls, and he couldn’t help but notice how good his partner was with people if she really wanted to be.
“I guess we need to talk,” Amon said quietly, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands threaded through his ebony locks. He heard Robin’s breath catch and Reika’s sobs soften.
Author’s Note:
Um, yeah. Amon is willing to talk, but this is a special circumstance. I get a good feeling this is going to be funny.