Rinne Shamira, daughter of Rinara Shamira, looks to be sixteen, no younger.
Rinara never once mentioned having had a child before she died. She also never seemed to have a lover.
I wanted to deny that this girl here was Rinara's child, but her looks were an unmistakable likeness to hers. That is the curse of the Golden Steam bloodline. A bloodline derived from the goddess of Steam herself.
Still, looking at this girl brought a strange feeling in my chest.
Who was the lucky man?
Looks aside, she behaved strangely. Not that I could really say much, as I myself was just sitting on the couch watching a young girl clean my vomit. Whenever she looked at me while cleaning, she gave me a smile. There was no warmth, just an icy mask. But her eyes betrayed the persona she tried to establish. She looked at me like a prisoner chained to a wall, looking out of a barred window.
What has she lived through?
I wanted to ask her, but I, of all people, had no right to do so.
Once she was finished, she returned all my cleaning supplies and fetched me a glass of water. She brought it to me with an expression so practiced that any normal person would have mistaken it for a genuine act of kindness.
"Feeling better?" She stepped back with her hands behind her back and spoke in a charming tone.
"Drop the act." This charade needed to end. I took the water from her and chugged it down.
She hesitated before stepping back a little more, sending soft ripples through her hair. That fake smile dissolved; a bitter look of disgust took its place. Her eyes narrowed with caution, her stance lowering, ready to bolt towards the door on a hair's breadth.
It was hard to say that looking at her being so cautious did not bother me, but it just meant she knew how to survive.
"How did you know where to find me?" I asked.
I worked as a detective, but I never let my clientele visit me.
Rinne took a moment to think before letting out a quiet sigh. She then removed her tattered cloak, revealing a set of clothing in an even worse state of disrepair. She dug around, looking for something.
A brown-and-cream uniform, one that seemed to be from the Upper Core orphanage, covered her body loosely. Through the holes in her clothes were bandages that clung to her skin loosely, as if done by a rookie nurse. Some were new, and others were a dark crimson color.
While she struggled to find what she was looking for, a worried expression fell over her. While she did that, I turned towards my closet to grab my first-aid kit.
I heard a faint sigh of relief just before she spoke, "Here, it's a letter from my mother."
"That can wait." I turned around, and she was standing right behind me. When did she get so close? "Let's tend to those wounds. I'll even show you the proper way to bandage yourself, even if you are on the run."
She stepped back, giving me a grossed-out look. Rinne's expression darted between me and the bandages. She then looked at herself. With hesitation, she allowed me to tend to her wounds.
How she could manage to walk without wincing in pain was nothing short of amazing. Her wounds were many and deep. Some looked to be inflicted by jagged edges, perhaps from deteriorated pipes, while others seemed to be made from a whip. Her pale skin was forever scarred by all that life threw her way from such a young age. I suppose she is just like her mother in that regard.
Once she redressed herself with in tattered clothes, she gave me a more relaxed expression that seemed a bit more genuine.
I held out my hand. "You said something about a letter?"
It was too late to doubt her, but I could not shake the feeling that her finding me was not a coincidence. Rinara died ten years ago. I have only lived in this hideout for three years. Someone had to set her up.
Rinne handed me the letter. It was covered with aging stains. I opened it to find a message in Rinara's handwriting. I felt my heart pound hard.
Dear Rinne, if you open this letter after ten days, as I told you, it means I am no longer around. I wish I could have spent more time with you, but Mommy's job is very important. No matter how you feel or what the future holds, remember that I will always love you. Please look for the man who will soon call himself "Golden Steam." He is a man whom I trust more than anyone in the world. Follow the marks left by a friend of mine. They will guide you toward Golden Steam.
Then the next part was written in a special encryption that only I, master, and Rinara knew.
To you, Mister Golden Steam. I know how you are, and how you will eventually blame yourself for whatever befell of me. You might wonder why I wrote this letter in the first place. I will not share my reasoning, but I ask that you raise my daughter as you see fit. I trust you will make the right choice for her future. Please don't be mad at her, and I'm sorry for not telling you about her sooner.
I slumped onto my couch. She knew she was going to die that day. Why? Was that how little she trusted me?
"So she meant that much to you?" Rinne's voice broke the silence. It was sweet and soft, almost reminiscent of how Rinara spoke to me when I was first found. "Could it be that you are my father?"
"Sorry kid."
Rinne let out a sigh, looking away with a lonely expression. "I figured as much, seeing as how they took me."
By them, I assume she means the city. But why was she taken to the Upper Core? Usually, children stay in the Core Levels where they were found.
"Sir?" Rinne pranced around me. "You look lost in thought."
"I was," I said, looking at her more carefree body language. "How did you end up in the Upper Core?"
"Hmm?" She moved from one side of me to the other. "So the detective is actually playing the role?"
What? Why is she behaving like a normal teen now?
She leaned forward, her eyes seeming to stare straight into me. "I thought you were just a drunk."
I flicked her on the head.
"Owowowo!" She looked at me with tears swelling up. "Why did that hurt so much?"
I thought she could handle a little pain from her wounds, but I guess I was wrong.
"Sorry, I still needed to punish the crook who broke into my house," I said, scratching my head.
Despite her behaving like a brat, she was easy enough to deal with. I would much rather she annoy me than be afraid of me.
"So!" she recovered and looked at me with a serious face. "Will you help me look for the one who killed my mother?"
That was a question that was hard to answer. Not that I wanted to refuse her, but because the job itself…is quite difficult.
"I'll sleep on it," I said bluntly.
"Huh?" Rinne's expression shifted to more confused than upset.
I moved towards the closet and grabbed a blanket. I could not do much about her clothes at the moment. All I had were things that fit me, and that might not be the most appropriate to give her.
I should stop by Margaret's for food and clothes.
"Hey!" Rinne stomped her foot. I turned to see her wince a little.
"Shut it." I tossed her the blanket. "You can have the couch. It'll be yours, assuming you've got nowhere else to go."
She snatched up the blanket and glared at me. Had I not known a scarier woman, this would be quite the look, but it was an adorable attempt to scare me.
"Frowning like that will do nothing but wrinkle your pretty face. Trust me, your mother looked like she aged quicker than she was because of it. Good night."
As I walked towards my room, I heard a faint murmur, "What are you hiding?"
I had no way of knowing whether it was Rinne or the ghost that haunts me.