poor unfortunate soul

poor unfortunate soul

There had been a dry spell of cases lately, which was really the worst part of being a private investigator. As a police officer, and then police detective, he was never short on cases. Everyone called the police, for everything, and even if it was just running down false leads, there was usually always work to be done. Unfortunately, as a PI the calls were dwindled to those who the police couldn't help, those who didn't want to contact the police, and those who knew about his private investigator business. That lead to pretty odd hours, with his job taking over the entirety of his time for weeks, and then times like this when he was completely devoid of any distraction. Of course, he tried to spend his time wisely, researching crime patterns and areas, widening his list of contacts, and generally patrolling the city, but a workaholic just didn't feel right not working, and Goko always felt a bit restless when not doing something useful.

So, he was a little more hyper aware of his surroundings (more that he already was, anyway), when he heard a little commotion going on on a side street from where he was walking. It was already a place where delinquents were prone to gather in order to mug easy targets, and so the private detective didn't waste any time going to check it out. He saw the source of the commotion on the other side of the street where three thugs were harassing a smaller boy. "Hey, you brats!" He barked at them while he made his way swiftly toward them. It didn't seem like they were in the mood for a tougher victim (and weren't going to stick around to defend a broke mark), and they took off as soon as he shouted.

Goko had expected that. He wouldn't have been able to bring them all in without a fight anyway (something he wasn't going to attempt with a civilian around, when he could avoid it), nor was he going to chase them down when there was a victim here. Plus, he figured got a good enough look at them when he shouted to try to track them down again later.

"Little thugs." He mumbled when he was close enough to the victim to stop running. He took a moment to stop out his cigarette he was about half way though before turning to see the kid. He was a tiny little thing, and exactly the opposite of in-good-spirits. Really, the kid didn't look all that great to Goko, and his appearance looked a bit familiar in a way he couldn't quite place. His sense of duty, as always, far outranked any sort of curiousity he might of had, and instead he asked, calmly and clearly, "Are you alright, kid? What's your name?" While judging if the kid had been injured or not.

notes: aw, so many bad things happen to nao ;n; wordcount: 481

poor unfortunate soul

Looking at the kid closer still gave Goko the impression that something was wrong with the small boy. Not necessarily because he could see any outwards signs of damage, because he couldn't at the moment, and the child was as calm, outwardly, as could be hoped for in this situation. But Goko had been doing this for eight years, already, and generally knew when something was wrong when he saw it.

Considering the short nod he got when he asked the kid if he was alright though, there probably wasn't going to be an answer to that curiosity forthcoming. But Goko was a detective, and his entire career was based on finding answers to puzzles on his own. So, he wasn't going to dwell on that aspect.

"Alright." He said, nodding back. Though he was sure the smaller boy was probably going to have a few aches, and bruises probably, Goko couldn't see any serious injuries that would require that he take him to a hospital, though he made a note to watch him in case he was in shock and just not feeling it. For now, though, he focused his attention on talking to the kid. Which, he was hoping to stop calling 'kid' sometime soon. "Will you tell me what your name is?"

He paused a moment, but felt that he probably wasn't going to get an answer to that. He adjusted his hat, like he usually did when gathering his thoughts, and then reached into his jacket to fish out his license. "Well, ordinarily, you shouldn't talk to strangers. Ideally." He said, out loud, though more as narration to what he was doing than anything else. He wasn't sure how old the kid was, but he looked pretty young. Sometimes, he had trouble with younger kids. He had no doubt that it was a show of one of his emotional failings, too. Kids, usually, needed affection, or at least some sort of motherly / fatherly / protective sort of pretense to hang on to. Goko was naturally protective, and usually very calm and patient with kids who didn't test him, but Goko wasn't a warm person, he didn't smile. On a purely instinctual level, Goko thought kids seemed unsure about him.

Once he fished out his detective license, he opened it up and presented it to the kid. Waiting to see if he'd want to take it and look at it, while continuing what he was saying. "But, my name is detective Sadao, and I'm here to help. At least to try to get you home." He paused a bit to see of there was anything the kid would do, before asking. "Do you have anyone you can call? Who can come pick you up?"

notes: yeah~ goko's not too horrible at this <3 wordcount: 458

poor unfortunate soul

Goko watched the kid nod at him, and tried to take in as much information about this as he could. He didn't honestly think this boy was mute, he'd encountered deaf-mutes before, years ago, and as far as his experience went, they went through ever conceivable effort to be understood. Even with his very sorry level of Japanese sign language, he'd been able to get a good idea of what they were trying to tell him, and communicate to a satisfactory level in return. This boy also didn't come across to Goko as the stubborn type, who refused to talk just to give him trouble (which was quite common in kids) - so, his impression of the kid was that he was very terribly shy. This thought allowed for him to extend a bit more patience than he normal would when trying to deal with an unresponsive kid. Mostly, because he knew being irritable now wasn't going to help anything in the least.

He was surprised when the kid jerked back a bit when he offered his license, and remained still until the shock wore off for the boy. Goko didn't like that, and was more than aware that skittishness like that was from more than just a scuffle with some thugs. His first guess was domestic abuse at home, and when the kid denied having anyone to call, it strengthened that idea. Either the kid honestly didn't have anyone he could call to come get him, or he was unwilling to use the number he had, for whatever reason.

Goko considered a few things, including the possibility that he'd unwittingly found a runaway. But if the kid was a runaway, he hadn't been one for long at least. He was still wearing a school uniform, and it wasn't any more dirty than those thugs had made it by grabbing him. He tried to think of the local schools around here, but there were dozens and he wasn't even sure if the kid was in elementary or middle school. The uniform didn't click with him right away either - it was a classic black, which was all fine and dandy, but terrible for identifying purposes. The only other clue was the brass I on the breast which could have been the letter or the number 1.

He wasn't all too familiar with the different schools' symbol (and now he had something to do tonight, correcting that), but at least it was a push in the right direction. If this kid was a runaway, he didn't look to keen on running now, at least.

He put his license back in his inner jacket pocket and regarded the tiny boy. "Alright, that's fine, we'll figure it out." He said, adjusting his hat again. "First, let's head back to my office, it's not too far from here." He said, thinking the young boy would probably feel more secure indoors than out on the street where he was just attacked. He spared the street a glance, making sure to remember if for when he came back later to see to those three brats, before looking back at the kid again. "If I gave you a pen and paper, do you think you would be able to write down the name of your school?"

notes: no problem, i don't mind! xD wordcount: 549

poor unfortunate soul

When the kid nodded in agreement to writing down the name of his school, Goko felt a bit of relief. This at least, wouldn't be too impossibly difficult. Once he got the name of the kid's school, he could take him back there, and find out more. The fact that the kid was willing to write, also supported his thought that the kid was shy rather than mute or stubborn. A stubborn child wouldn't have agreed to write anything, and he was still sure that an actual mute would have a more handy method of being understood, even as a child. Obviously, the kid was the anxious type, possibly with good reason if there really had been domestic abuse in his family, and so he did his best to be as calm as possible. That, at least, came naturally, much more so than trying to give off any feeling of warmth or cheerfulness, that he saw other detectives who worked specifically in child abuse and special victims use.

There was a reason he had stuck to narcotics and gang crimes back when he was a badge. Those jobs never required that he have a soft, reassuring exterior.

And yet he still had a weakness for taking in lost looking kids. Of course, this one, at least, was looking to be a lot easier to deal with, and would hopefully be more temporary as well. So, on the bright side, he was getting a little better.

"Good. This isn't the best place to loiter, in any case." He responded positively to the agreement the kid gave on coming back to his office. It was within his walking distance, and in a much better (though not necessarily any richer) part of the neighborhood. He reached out his hand slowly to the young boy, remembering to go slow, so that his movement couldn't be mistaken for anything aggressive. The reaction the kid had before had been surprising, but Goko was clever and experienced enough to understand what caused it, and he was going to make the effort not to cause it again.

"Okay, take my hand, and let's get going."

notes: yeah, nao's sad ;n; /shorter post sorry wordcount: 357

poor unfortunate soul

He watched the boy step quietly into his office, and followed him in closing the door quietly behind him. Since the kid didn't seem all that eager to enter and explore the room himself (though Goko couldn't really blame him, since there wasn't much to look at), the detective crossed over to where his desk was an pulled up one of the slightly worn, wooden chairs he kept around for when he had clients, and pulled it up neatly towards the front of his desk. Satisfied that this looked at least a little more inviting, he called the kid over again. "Come sit down over here."

He then moved behind his desk, himself, fishing through his notepads until he found one that wasn't too full of notes, and quickly tearing the top dozen or so pages out and setting them off to the side to be sorted through an re-written later. He then slid the pad and a disposable pen to the kid's side of the desk. Though, as a detective, there were plenty of curiosities that nagged at him to be answered. It was difficult to be a detective without the urge to solve the puzzles that life laid before you, but Goko had more self control than most, and his priorities were almost always straight. In this case, it actually helped that he was not an emotional person, but he'd long since stopped trying to turn his curse into some kind of gift. That had only stopped him from healing when he could have, early on in his life. Now, he thought, he was to set in his ways to be fixed without other repercussions.

So, despite wanting to know a little about why this silent kid wouldn't speak, or why he seemed so skittish, or how his home life was, and other such things, first thing was first - he had to stop calling the kid, 'kid'. So, he gestured simply to the pen and pad and asked, "Could you write down your name?" And then, after a moment, added, "And the name of the school you currently attend." Those two answers would go the furthest at the moment anyway. If he knew the boy's school and name, he'd be able to take the boy back and contact the child's guardians (hopefully). Then he'd see what he could find out himself, without troubling the delicate looking boy in front of him. Delicate things were not his specialty, and he had no intention of stressing the kid out even more than he already was.

notes: /can't think of any notes wordcount: 426

poor unfortunate soul

Goko had to remember to draw his hand away slowly, since kid seemed skittish even when he was just sliding the pen and pad across the desk. He hadn't really considered that motion one that could be misconstrued as aggressive, but he supposed it might have just been too fast for the kid.

He leaned back a bit and intertwined his fingers across his lap, so he could watch the boy write. It was with a little more concentrated effort than he would expect from an older kid, but he just remained quiet and waited until the boy had finished. When he did finish, it didn't seem like he was going to pass the pad back over, so he slowly reached for it, paused with his fingers on it, and slid it back towards himself.

He'd made it as obvious as possible that he was going for the notebook, but probably wouldn't be surprised if the kid was startled anyway. Still, it was better to use more predicable movements, he thought, around someone so on-edge. He realized that he might have learned that best from his sometimes-torturer than from anything else, but that was definitely a train of thought he needed to say away from. He looked down at the kid's words, and noticed that the handwriting looked like a very small child's. Exceptionally clear, but shaky in it's effort to be precisely like what the textbook taught. He stored that information away as well.

"Nice to meet you, formally, Naoya-kun." He said with a nod. He tended to speak very formally to stranger who weren't crooks, so it was a little bit of a relief to him to have an actual name to apply to the kid. He looked down to the name of the school and blinked. He was pretty sure he knew that place, but he was going to need to check first. "Hm... Excuse me."

He gave a small nod and stood up from his seat slowly. He wasn't in that much of a rush, and so still made the effort to have more predictable movements. He walked the long way around his desk and to his large filing cabinet that wasn't too far away. He unlocked the drawer with a light clink and spent all of ten seconds finding what he needed, taking it out and locking the drawer back up again. He was exceptionally well organized, particularly when he filed things away. He hated searching through pages and pages of unorganized reports and notes. That just drove him crazy.

He returned to his seat at the same speed, using the same path he used to leave it, and placed the sheet of paper down on his desk. "Well, I have to admit, I thought you were a lot younger than you are. My apologies if it seemed like I was babying you earlier." He said honestly. The paper he had pulled out listed the contact information of a few different local schools, and it stated very clearly that Chishiki was an international boy's academy for high schoolers. Which meant, as a freshman (that brass I was definitely a 1), he had to be at least 14-15 years old.

Goko slowly took out his cell phone, which was extremely out-of-date, but he was fine with the excuse that he was old. "Pardon me." He said, holding up his hand, like he would if he was stopping a conversation, even though he was fairly confident, by now, that the kid wasn't going to talk to him. He dialed the number to the main desk of the Academy and waited until someone picked up and announced that he'd reached the school's front desk, and could they help him. "Yes, sir. My name is detective Sadao, and I believe I've found one of your students, Uchida Naoya." He said with the same sort of mechanical formality that he used with almost everything. As he expected, the receptionist looked up Naoya and confirmed that he was one of their students. "Yes, sir, thank you. I will be returning him shortly. If there is a parent or guardian currently looking for him, please give them the number 361-5699." Then he waited until the man on the other end repeated the numbers back before saying, "Yes, sir, thank you for your time."

He quietly hung up and placed the phone back into his jacket pocket, while looking back at Naoya. "Seeing as Chishiki is a boarding school, and we haven't quite made it to curfew time yet, it's unlikely there will be too much fuss just yet, but it's good to try to give them my number anyway, if I can't know theirs." It seemed that his 'small talk', to put the kid at ease, had degraded from practical directions to just outright stating his internal reasoning for things. He really doubted that was going to do anything but make the kid think he was a crazy person though. So that was probably a no-go.

Perhaps something better would be, "Are you hungry?"

notes: another long one, sorry xD wordcount: 840