Shards of a Broken Sun [Megaten/Shugo Chara/Exalted]

Out of the fire, and into the—ashes? The malapropism didn't quite fit, and as Kana entered Amu's home, she found herself confronted with an unfamiliar problem. Three telepaths enter a room. That… sounded like a bar joke, instead of being her reality. Utau was worried, and the worry had led into anger, and- anger, dark side, planet busters?

Utau was tapping her foot.

Usually Amu didn't care too much about the age difference. Three years, after all, weren't a big deal if you were... um... not twelve. Er. Thirteen. Not… thirteen. She felt about ten.

"Amu..." Utau kept staring down at her, and Amu had to tilt her head upwards to meet the gaze. You'd be misreading the scene, if you thought Amu felt scared. She felt… ashamed. She'd made Utau worry, and… she wanted to comfort her, but...

Kana took a tiny, nervous step forward.

"It's not Amu's fault," Kana said, her voice so low she was practically mumbling.

That was enough to draw Utau's attention. She looked away from Amu, and up at Kana. Amu couldn't read her mind, but she could sense her thoughts, and they were… sharp. Oh, forget about words. Utau…

Amu took one step forward, then another, and suddenly she was hugging her, arms around Utau, trembling as she pressed her forehead against her friend's chest.

The goal had been to comfort her. But-

"'m sorry," she mumbled, and then Utau was hugging her, too, and her feelings were a mix of fear and relief and shame. Her hand landed on Amu's head. Amu tried to radiate comfort and calm, hoping to soothe both of them, and- it wasn't working. Her stomach was doing somersaults. Her eyes burned. Naomi had been scary! She hadn't realised how scary, until Naomi had left, and the tension had bled away, and the reality had hit. You couldn't lie with telepathy, or if you could, then Amu didn't know how to do it. You couldn't lie with your body, either.

She didn't realise she was crying until the tears started dripping.

"'m sorry," she mumbled again.

"Idiot," Utau whispered.

"S-sorry," Amu sniffled, and then the tears were running freely.

"Shhh, Amu," Utau murmured, and hugged her a little tighter. "It's fine. Shhh."

"'s not fine," Amu muttered, shaking her head. "I... I made you worry, and I... I was careless, and..."

And Utau pulled her closer yet, sitting down onto the stool with Amu on her lap, as though Amu was a child, and not a teenager. She couldn't stop her. Amu clung to Utau, unsure if she was comforting Utau or just herself. Possibly both. Maybe. The dying remnants of her dignity claimed it might be both.

"Amu," Kana repeated, her voice louder this time, "it's not your fault."

That brought Utau back to reality. She flipped Amu around, holding the hug, and glared at Kana.

"No," she said, her voice hard, "it isn't."

"Utau..." Amu mumbled, giving up on 'calm' and trying to radiate 'please be nice, I like Kana'. Which was a bit too complex of an emotion, but it had the benefit of being true. She didn't seem able to speak, not in anything resembling a coherent fashion. It was just starting to hit her what sort of mess she'd gotten herself into. Not that she'd have changed a single thing, it was just-

Amu wouldn't be part of this story right now.

Utau sighed. "Right, right," she said, squeezing her shaking friend a little tighter. "Let's take this from the top. It's not Amu's fault. I'm unsure if it's yours. You're the new friend, I assume?" Utau said, her voice cool. "Kana, then. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Kana said, her voice cracking a little.

"You're Amu's newest project, aren't you?" Utau continued. She glanced down at Amu, her gaze softening a fraction. "What is it this time? Child soldiers, cultists, human experimentation, or..."

"None of the above!" Amu protested feebly, feeling Kana's nervousness skyrocket. "Just a friend."

Utau heaved a sigh. "And I can feel you panicking," she muttered. "Sorry, Kana. That isn't your fault. It's just, Amu always—always, without fail, picks the most impossible cases. And it's hard to watch."

"She can't leave people like me alone," Kana said, her voice barely audible. Her face was pale.

"She really can't," Utau agreed.

"I'm still here," Amu protested, and was hugged harder. Her bones were starting to creak. "'m not doing anything stupid."

"That remains to be seen," Utau muttered.

"It's not stupid!"

"It is a bit stupid," Kana argued. "It's not your fight, Amu."

"Maybe not, but, well—are you ganging up on me?" Amu complained, her tone incredulous. She wiped her tears, then looked up at Utau, to Kana and back. "What is this, the 'tell off Amu' club? It's my birthday, you know. I don't have to take this."

"It's the 'stop Amu doing things that make her cry' club," Utau suggested, though her eyes twinkled. "Back with us? You're a menace, and not in a good way. You wouldn't be dissolving like this if you had a lick of sense in your body."

"You are a menace," Kana echoed. "Not in a bad way either, but you are." She looked to Utau. "I won't let you get in trouble, though. Not that I can stop you."

"Thanks, guys," Amu muttered. Her nose was running. She felt absolutely atrocious, and babied. It wasn't even slightly okay.

"You're welcome," Utau replied, her voice dry. "Kana, let's go inside. There's cake, and sensible people. Plus Yaya and Amu."

"Yaya?" Kana said, her voice tentative.

"She'll love you, I'm sure," Utau said. "We'll stuff Amu in the bathroom. And then we can talk."

"Oh." Kana shrank back, her nerves spiking. "Right."

Utau considered them for a moment. Amu desperately tried to work up the emotions for 'calming' again, but wasn't entirely sure she had the knack. Kana' emotions were a mess, Utau felt both protective and worried, and as for Amu, she... didn't really know what she was, anymore. She just knew that this was the best shot she was ever going to have at making them get along, and she wanted to protect the both of them, and also, maybe, not get stabbed, because...

Well, because she didn't really want Kana's friends to murder her. Or anyone.

Which was an emotion dark enough that Utau nearly crushed her ribs. What on earth had happened to the thin waif who'd been lighter than Amu? Was every bit of those ramen eating contests turning into muscle?

"You don't have to, of course," Utau continued, as though nothing had happened. "We can go sit somewhere else and just talk. Doesn't need to be here." She considered Kana again, and Amu felt something a bit like a leviathan stir within Utau. Something ancient and dark, a feeling of—not protectiveness, but—something a little bit closer to a desire for vengeance. She looked towards Kana, and then back down at Amu, and for a moment Amu couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Kana wasn't the only person willing to murder, if it came down to it.

It brushed against Kana, like a vast, black shadow. She could feel Kana recoil.

'What are you two doing?' Amu thought, her mental tone plaintive. Somehow, that was easier than talking.

'Sharing,' Utau replied.

Kana said nothing, but the feelings from her were complicated. She backed away slightly, her mind a tangled mess. Amu could make out a few fragments: confusion, worry, anger. And something that wasn't quite fear, but definitely a negative reaction to Utau's... whatever that was.

Her hand twitched towards her waist. She wasn't holding a knife—was not, in fact, wearing a belt—but she could feel the mental twitch from wanting one.

For some reason Utau's face quirked into a smile.

"She means that much to you?" she said, and Kana flinched, her mind flaring with anger and guilt and—

"Yes," said Kana. "She does."

"Huh." Utau's eyes met Kana's, and for a moment both girls stared at each other. Finally, Utau blinked, and nodded. "Well, she does that, you know."

"Does what?" Kana asked, confused.

"Just... gets to people," Utau replied. "So, how about this, then: do you want to meet the rest of the gang? I think you'll like them."

"Sure?" Kana's mental response was not so sure.

"And we'll leave the talk for another day. But if you want Amu to help…" Utau shrugged, and smiled. It was the sort of smile that showed off all of her teeth. "We both will. We've all had our share of… issues. Since I bet Amu never told you, I was her previous—project."

"Project," Kana repeated, and Amu could almost taste her surprise.

"Project," Utau agreed. "Though Amu doesn't do projects. She just does Amu. She's a good friend. I'm sure you've noticed."

"I have," Kana agreed. "Um. What, what exactly do you want to know, then? I can't say a lot."

"That's the same thing I thought..." Utau released Amu, her expression softening. "And I was wrong. I'm still learning, but—we'll get to that later. For now, cake. Come in, and I'll introduce you. If you need to talk to Amu, feel free."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," said Utau.

"But I can't-" Kana paused. Utau looked at her, waiting, and Amu could feel her trying to find the right words. As for Amu, she slowly got to her feet. Her legs were still trembling slightly, and she felt absolutely lousy, but-

"Can't say much, I know," Utau replied. "I get that. Really, I do. I know precisely how it feels, thinking that anything you say might be found out. Or that you will make it worse. Or even that you'll hurt Amu-chan." She shrugged. "It's not an easy feeling to get rid of, and it took me years. So, you know, take as much time as you need."

-better, Amu thought, rubbing her face to clear the tear trails away. It could have gone worse.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," said Utau, her voice cold once again. "This isn't a favour. This is for Amu. You're a friend of hers, so you're a friend of mine. But if you hurt her-"

"Utau," said Amu, her tone admonishing. 'Not again!'

"Then I'll just have to murder you," Utau finished, and gave Amu a toothy grin. "No, but, seriously, how do you find all these people? Do you have a talent for it or something?"

"I have a talent for finding friends, thank you," Amu muttered, blushing.

"That wasn't a compliment, idiot." She ruffled Amu's hair.

"I think it was," Kana said.

"It really wasn't," Utau said. "She just... has a knack for it. Finding problems, and then not ignoring them." She leaned back, and all the tension drained out of her. "But that's a story for another day. Right, Akane? Just don't hold back. I'm not happy with whatever your deal is, I'm sure you understand. I'll be a great deal less happy if you get her hurt without first asking for help."

Kana swallowed, and nodded, and acted very unlike the mind-controlling assassin that Amu had more or less determined she was. Utau chuckled, acting unusually like the high-schooler she was supposed to be.

"Good," she said.

Amu rolled her eyes, and had her hair ruffled again. Then Utau, carefully, placed her hand on Kana's head, and patted it gently. The chief feeling from Kana was shock.

"Now come on," she said, leading them inside. "Before Yaya eats all the cake."

⁂

The atmosphere within Amu's living room was a drastic shift from the tension that had preceded their entrance. Warmth emanated from a cluttered table adorned with mismatched plates and a pristine birthday cake, its candles studded amidst cheerful frosting. Yaya, always a bundle of boundless energy, was holding court over the small assemblage of friends, her laughter acting as a balm to the earlier disquiet.

Utau steered the pair of them inside, having first given Amu and Kana a minute to collect themselves. Once there, Amu felt her stomach clench at the sight of her friends, and the concern emanating from them. They must have overheard something, or else they had seen her distress, and now she would have to explain-

"Amuuuuu," said Yaya. "I want cake! You were gone forever!"

Nothing, apparently.

"I was not," she said, grateful for the distraction.

"Forever," Rima reiterated.

"I'm hungry, Amu," said Yaya, her voice a whine. "Feed me!"

"You were gone long enough," Tadase said, a gentle smile on his face. He looked towards Utau, who nodded slightly. "You were missed. Happy birthday, Amu. And welcome, Kana-chan."

"Thank you," Amu replied, trying her best not to blush.

"Happy birthday, Amu," Rima added, a small smile on her face. The tension dissolved into general greetings and well-wishes, and then it was time to cut the cake. Kana found herself being swept up in the jovial tide almost against her will, her nerves untangling as Yaya's antics pulled reluctant giggles from her throat. The merriment was infectious, the absurdity of an illusionary duck forming atop Yaya's head acting as a cue that seriousness was temporarily banished from the room.

Amu, too, felt the change, her tumultuous emotions settling into a gentle eddy as she watched her friends through new eyes—through Kana's cautious yet wondering gaze. There was an unspoken agreement in the air; the complexities of their lives were momentarily put on hold, shelved in favour of celebrating the simple fact of her existence. It wasn't the first time; she did this once per year, but Kana-

'When is your birthday?' she asked, her tone tentative.

'July... 10th?' Kana replied, her mind radiating uncertainty. 'I don't remember. We've never had a chance to celebrate.'

'Next year, then,' Amu declared, her voice firm. 'We'll have a party just for you. How about that?'

Kana didn't have an answer, her emotions a maelstrom, but a single thought floated to the surface, a wistful wish for family, and the simple wish to be included.

Then Miki flew into the room, holding a tiny portrait of Amu with a massive grin on her face, and Kana nearly shrieked. Amu was unanimously elected to be the one who'd explain Charas to Kana, who—as it turned out—was deathly afraid of ghosts.

⁂

The presents came as they were all lounging on a cluster of beanbags, the cake now a delightful memory, and Yaya had just finished regaling them with a particularly adventurous tale involving a scooter and three-legged cat.

From Yaya, a box-within-a-box.

"Open it!" Yaya ordered, a wide grin on her face. Amu, suspecting she might regret the act, obeyed. Within, she found an array of stickers: hearts, spades, diamonds and clubs, and a rainbow. There was also a small pocket mirror. She raised an eyebrow, her expression curious.

"Because you're Amu," Yaya declared. "And rainbows are cool."

"Thank you," said Amu.

Rima's present was next, wrapped in simple, plain paper, and she handed it over with a smile. Inside was a card, and a bag full of colourful hairpins, along with a matching pink scarf.

"Su said it would help keep the winter chill away. She taught me how to knit it," Rima explained, and Amu had to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat.

"Thanks, Rima," she managed.

Kana pulled out a small box. Amu would have been happy with nothing, but Kana, at least, hadn't been given much time.

"This is from Naomi, and from the rest of us," she said. "She wanted me to give you a message, too, but I'd rather not, not here." She smiled. "Just so you know... Naomi's happy that I made a friend. Even if she's like... that."

"Oh," said Amu.

The present was a small bracelet, with a tiny charm attached. It was a simple thing, a white feather, but Amu could sense the care that had been poured into its creation. Literally—she could feel the warmth, the hope, the care, the love that had been woven into the gift, it practically vibrated in her hands. The last time she'd felt anything like it was—Amu swallowed. Lulu's gems, though those had been a brittle, crystalline shine.

"Yui-chan made that for you," Kana explained. "It doesn't do anything. It's just a feather. But I thought..."

"I'll treasure it," Amu said, thinking of her missing friend. Lulu had gone off to Europe, and they hadn't spoken in nearly a year, and all of a sudden she really wanted to. "Thank you, Kana."

Kana gave her a curious mental nudge.

'A friend,' she told her. 'I'll tell you about her later.'

That had been everyone, except for Kukai, Tadase, Utau, and...

"Where's Ami?" Amu asked, suddenly realising her little sister had been gone for some time.

"Upstairs," Utau replied, her voice a little dry. "Finishing your gift. She told me not to let you wake her until she's done."

"Ah."

"You can go check, but I don't think she'll appreciate it," Tadase offered. "And, speaking of, our gift is a joint effort. I hope you don't mind."

"Kukai found the... base material," said Utau. "Tadase and I helped him... finish it." She chuckled lightly, and Amu narrowed her eyes at her.

"You two are planning something."

"No," said Tadase, his voice as earnest as it ever was. "It's a gift."

"Just open it," said Utau, the faintest hint of a smirk playing about her lips. "You'll see."

They prodded her over to the sofa, where Tadase presented her with a thin package, while Kukai grinned in the background.

Amu settled on the edge of the sofa, the thin package in her hands. The wrapping paper was smooth, cool to the touch, with a subtle sheen that caught the light, casting playful shadows across her fingers. It was tied with a simple ribbon.

With her friends gathered around, watching with a mixture of excitement and barely concealed knowing looks, she peeled back the tape with a deliberateness that belied her growing curiosity. The paper fell away, revealing what looked like a simple pocket mirror.

"It is a mirror," Tadase said, his voice filled with a warmth that one reserves for a carefully chosen gift. "But not just any mirror."

Amu's eyes flicked up to meet his, an unspoken question in her gaze.

Utau leaned in, the light playing off her eyes in a mischievous dance. "It's been enchanted," she whispered, as if confiding a great secret. "It's meant to reveal your innermost—"

But before she could finish, the mirror came to life. Swirls of colour cascaded across the surface, and for a brief moment, Amu thought she could hear the distant sound of laughter—Lulu's laughter.

Her heart clenched with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. Lulu, her friend who had ventured off to Europe, leaving a Lulu-shaped hole in their circle. The mirror wasn't just reflecting light; it was reflecting memories, moments, feelings.

"—it's meant to reveal your innermost feelings," said Utau. "Well, that was the plan. In practice it reflects mostly the outermost, and I have no idea what you see. I see a lot of green clouds, some purple, but I'll admit, it's not that useful. Still... it took us a while."

Kana, who had been silent, gave Amu a gentle mental nudge, a soft whisper of curiosity amidst the chaos of emotions. Amu turned to her, her eyes misty.

"It's Lulu," Amu said softly, more to herself than to anyone else. "Or at least, it reminds me of her."

The room was still, the only movement the flickering colours playing across Amu's face as she gazed into the mirror. Tadase and Utau exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them.

"You two are planning something," Amu accused, halfheartedly, her eyes never leaving the mirror.

"Nope," Tadase replied, his earnestness palpable. "Utau got a clearer picture, and you wouldn't believe what I saw."

"You wouldn't," Utau declared, her voice a low murmur.

"Heh."

The moment passed, and soon the group was swept up in the merriment once more, Kana's nervousness all but forgotten. Amu found a board game, and the rest of the afternoon was spent in a spirited round of 'exploding kittens', with Kana, despite her initial protests, joining in with gusto.

Ami showed up a good hour and a half later, dragging a stuffed seal and a box wrapped in a garish shade of pink.

"I did it!" she blearily declared. "Happy birthday, sis."

Amu's response was a hug.

⁂

"Thank you," said Amu. "For coming."

She had retreated to the porch, needing a little fresh air and quiet. The evening sky was aflame with the dying embers of the setting sun, a fiery red glow illuminating the clouds as they drifted lazily overhead.

"You're welcome," Kana said, and Amu could feel the faint tingle of emotion, a mixture of contentment and melancholy, beneath her words.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Amu asked.

"Yeah."

"Good," said Amu. "I'm glad."

Kana leaned into her, her warmth a pleasant weight against Amu's side. "I've never been to a birthday party before," she said, her voice low and thoughtful. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was nice."

"Glad you had a good time," said Amu, and then a thought struck her. "Um, do you want a hug?"

Kana looked at her, her expression one of surprise, but the emotion beneath was a soft, warm glow, a feeling of trust and companionship. "...please," she said.

Amu obliged, pulling Kana close and letting her rest her head on her shoulder. They sat in silence, watching the sunset as it slowly gave way to the darkening twilight, a blanket of stars emerging overhead. The air was filled with the quiet sounds of crickets, a soothing melody that washed over them, and for a brief moment, Kana was at peace. Thinking about nothing, other than how nice it felt, and how warm Amu was, and how the night sky seemed to stretch on forever.

"I should probably go home," Kana murmured, a faint trace of regret in her voice. "My friends are waiting for me."

"Right."

"Thank you," said Kana.

"You're welcome."

⁂

That could have gone worse. You can't lie with telepathy, or- like she says, at least Amu doesn't know how to do it. Which has upsides and downsides. It means Kana (at least) can trust her absolutely, but it also means Amu can't project calm without being calm herself, though she tried, and hugs were indeed had. With friends as close as these, you don't need to do everything yourself.

Anyway. Two votes, though only one of the results actually matters. I asked before how much you want to to tell Lulu, and nobody answered. In light of the preceding two chapters, has anyone changed their mind?

Also, just what did Ami bring for a present?

[ ][Lulu] Call her up, talk about your life, don't say anything specific.

• It's been about nine months since last time you talked. Can't you just want to hear her voice? I'm pretty sure you can.

[ ][Lulu] Let her know that life is getting interesting again, without any specifics.

• It isn't the first time. Lulu already knows about the whole Easter thing.

[ ][Lulu] Keep the conversation completely centred on Lulu.

• This might be a little suspicious, but Amu is reasonably sure Lulu enjoys talking about herself.

[ ][Lulu] Write-in

[ ][Ami] A piece of fog in the shape of a sea shell

• It is, unaccountably, solid. You can hear worried whispers when you hold it.

[ ][Ami] A moveable rainbow

• You can stick it in the corner of your room, and it'll stay there.

[ ][Ami] A liquid shadow that forms a pool, much deeper than the half a millimetre it should be

• Feels oddly like home.

[ ][Ami] A shard of moonlight

• It's sharp, and looks deadly, but something keeps it from being sharp enough to cut.

[ ][Ami] Write-in