Charlie quickly recognized the girl sitting in the waiting area. After all, they had just met yesterday under circumstances that were anything but ordinary. In fact, she had saved him from a potentially disastrous situation.
Her name was Fana, the only agent of the Ninth Special Service Division known to have complete control over her "Phantom," an ability that set her apart from everyone else in the organization.
As they locked eyes, Charlie felt a moment of hesitation. It wasn't often that someone as quiet and enigmatic as Fana would catch his attention, let alone respond to it. But he couldn't just ignore her, especially after what had happened the day before. There was a brief, almost awkward pause as they looked at each other, and Charlie found himself caught off guard by the intensity of her gaze. Her large, light blue eyes seemed to pierce right through him, as if she could see everything he was thinking.
For a second, Charlie considered how strange it was to be in this situation. Here they were, in a bustling restaurant, surrounded by the mundane chatter of people enjoying their weekend, yet across from him sat a girl who had faced horrors that most people couldn't even imagine. The surreal contrast of it all left him momentarily stunned.
But remembering that they were technically colleagues and that she had, in a way, just saved his life, he decided to break the silence. It would be rude not to acknowledge her, especially when she had gone out of her way to help him. He raised his hand in a small wave and offered a friendly greeting.
"Your colleague?" Megan, his mother, chimed in as soon as Charlie returned, her voice breaking through the moment. She had been watching the exchange with curiosity. Megan, too, had seen Fana the night before outside the coffee shop's blockade. The image of the quiet, doll-like girl had stuck with her.
"That's right," Charlie replied, nodding.
Megan's interest seemed to grow. She offered Fana a warm smile, the kind that mothers reserve for their children's friends, and greeted her with genuine warmth. Fana, who had been sitting quietly, tilted her head slightly as if considering the gesture. After a brief pause, she returned the wave with a small, delicate hand.
Noticing the empty seats around Fana, Megan gave Charlie a gentle nudge with her elbow, signaling him to follow her lead. Without waiting for his response, she stood up from where they were sitting and made her way over to Fana's table.
Charlie hesitated for a moment, but quickly followed his mother's lead, realizing that it would be awkward to stay seated across the room while she engaged Fana in conversation. He picked up their belongings and joined his mother as she approached the table where Fana was seated.
"Mind if we join you?" Megan asked, her voice warm and inviting.
Fana looked up at them, her large, light blue eyes blinking in mild surprise. After a brief moment, she nodded, indicating that she didn't mind the company. Megan smiled and took the seat directly across from Fana, while Charlie slid into the chair beside her, placing himself diagonally across from the girl.
"Thank you," Megan said as she settled into her seat. She glanced around the bustling restaurant before commenting, "This place is so charming, isn't it? It's unusual to see so many people waiting this early in the morning."
Fana nodded slightly, her expression still unreadable, though there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes as she listened to Megan.
Megan turned to Fana with a casual question, "What number are you waiting for?"
Fana reached into her pocket with careful, deliberate movements, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. She opened it and peered at the number before replying in a soft, almost ethereal voice, "A46."
"A46... Huh? What's our number?" Megan asked, turning to Charlie.
Charlie pulled out the crumpled note he had stuffed into his pocket earlier. He smoothed it out and glanced at the number. "A47," he answered.
Megan's face lit up with a smile. "What a coincidence! We're right after you. Looks like we'll be getting seated soon—only a couple of tables ahead."
As she spoke, Megan recalled that the seats they are currently occupying were previously empty. It struck her as odd that such a young girl would come to a place like this all by herself, especially on a weekend morning when most people would be out with friends or family.
"Did you come alone?" Megan asked, her tone laced with mild surprise.
Fana nodded slightly, her expression as unreadable as ever.
Charlie was surprised, too. It wasn't every day you saw someone come to a busy restaurant like this alone, especially someone as young and striking as Fana.
"Not with any friends?" Megan inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Friend," Fana echoed, her voice carrying a soft echo of the word. She paused for a moment, then shook her head slowly. "No."
The way she said it left Charlie unsure of whether she meant she wasn't with friends today or if she didn't have any friends at all. The ambiguity hung in the air, making the silence that followed feel even heavier.
"Alone?" Megan repeated, her voice tinged with concern. "Well, why don't you join us? We can share a table—it'll be more fun than sitting by yourself."
Charlie almost wanted to suggest that Fana might prefer some time alone, considering how quiet and reserved she seemed. But before he could say anything, he noticed a faint glimmer in Fana's eyes at the invitation. She nodded slowly, as if she were still processing the offer but didn't want to refuse.
A few minutes later, the waiter led them to a table that had just been cleared, and the three of them sat down together.
As they settled in, Megan began to chat animatedly, taking the lead in the conversation. Charlie knew this side of his mother well; she had always been talkative, able to carry on a conversation with just about anyone. But today, she seemed particularly engaged, perhaps because she was curious about Charlie's work and the people he worked with. Or maybe, Charlie thought, she was just a little anxious about her son, who was over twenty and still hadn't shown much interest in finding a partner.
Fana, for her part, seemed content to let Megan lead the conversation. She responded to questions and comments with brief, polite answers, her voice gentle but her words few. Despite her reserved demeanor, she seemed to be paying close attention to everything being said, nodding occasionally as if to show she was listening.
Charlie found himself observing Fana closely. There was something about her that set her apart from anyone he had ever met. She was beautiful, undeniably so. In fact, he couldn't recall ever seeing anyone more striking in person. Her features were delicate, almost ethereal, with a youthful appearance that made her look like a character from a fantasy novel. But there was something else, something that made him uneasy.
It wasn't just her looks. There was an aura around her, something that hinted at a depth of experience and knowledge far beyond her years. It was the kind of aura that could only come from someone who had faced unimaginable things and come out the other side. And then there was her role as the first agent capable of controlling a Phantom—a fact that was both impressive and unsettling.
In a place like the Service Division, where the strange and the terrifying were commonplace, someone with Fana's abilities stood out even more. There was something about her that reminded Charlie of a "clinical subject," someone who had been through experimental treatments in a facility that didn't always play by the rules.
While Charlie was grateful for her help yesterday, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something dangerous about her. The Phantom she controlled was a mystery in itself. Even though Miyazaki—the elusive figure who was somehow involved with the Service Division—had assured everyone that Fana's Phantom was stable and safe, Charlie wasn't entirely convinced. He couldn't help but think that someone like Fana, with powers as unpredictable as hers, could easily become a liability.
The image of the Phantom, as described in the Service Division files, was unsettling. It was said to be something born from the darkness or obsession within a person's heart, a physical manifestation of their spirit's deepest fears and desires. The fact that Fana's Phantom took the form of a red-dressed female ghost with disheveled hair made Charlie wonder what that said about Fana herself.
It wasn't just curiosity that made Charlie uneasy. There was a very real fear that getting too close to someone like Fana could lead to something disastrous. He couldn't help but think that maintaining a professional distance was the safest course of action. The last thing he wanted was to end up as another tragic story in the annals of the Service Division.
As he continued to observe her, Charlie noticed something else. Fana spoke very little, not because she couldn't, but because she seemed reluctant to engage in conversation. Her voice, when she did speak, was soft and pleasant, but she seemed to prefer silence. It was as if she was content to listen rather than contribute.
It reminded Charlie of trying to chat with someone who wasn't really interested in the conversation—someone who responded with monosyllabic answers, making you wonder if they were even paying attention. But with Fana, it was different. Despite her quiet demeanor, she was clearly listening, and there was a sense that she genuinely cared about what was being said. She just didn't seem inclined to share much of herself.
"So, do you live alone now? What do your parents do?" Megan asked, steering the conversation toward more personal topics.
Fana had been answering the previous questions quickly and simply, but this time, she paused. There was a brief silence as she seemed to gather her thoughts.
"Dad…" she began, her voice trailing off as she stared blankly out the restaurant window. After a moment, she shook her head slowly. "No."
Megan quickly realized she might have touched on a sensitive subject. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"I live with Mom," Fana said, her voice steady as she recovered from her brief hesitation. "I'm not alone."
Megan was momentarily taken aback but quickly smiled warmly. "Really? She must be a wonderful mom."
"Mm," Fana nodded, and for the first time, there was a faint gleam in her eyes, a small spark of emotion that softened her otherwise stoic expression.
"Very… remarkable."
Charlie, too, was surprised. It seemed like Fana was saying that she lived with her mother, not alone. But something about the way she said it didn't quite add up.
It sounded like she was from a single
-parent family. But then, another thought crossed Charlie's mind.
Yesterday, when he had been accessing the Service Division database as Batman, he had looked up Fana's information out of curiosity. He had only found basic file information, nothing particularly detailed. The mental evaluation section had mentioned that she was "currently stable but needs further observation," but nothing else had stood out.
But Charlie distinctly remembered one crucial detail.
The file had clearly stated that Fana's father had abandoned her before she was old enough to remember, and her mother had passed away when she was six years old.
Fana was an orphan.
[TL Note - I think she is like Gaara from Naruto, calling her phantom "Mother" lol]
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