Interlude: Hinamori Tsumugu
"I'm okay now. Honest, dad."
He watched her running off, ducking and weaving but quickly disappearing into the crowd with a lithe grace he hadn't known she possessed. Tsumugu clenched his teeth, feeling his wife's hand clutching his own. Neither of them felt happy about letting her run off on her own, so soon after they'd gotten her back, but he didn't have any good excuses not to. Midori had long since convinced him to let her fight her own battles; she'd ask for help if she needed it, and if that understanding hadn't been about demons, or the fate of the world, neither did it make sense to stop her from helping where she could. Logically speaking.
Except she was
his girl, dammit. If it hadn't been very convincingly explained to them that Amu
had to do what she'd done, that the alternative was death - not just for him and everyone else, but even for Amu - then he wouldn't have allowed it. If Amu hadn't been set on doing so, he
still wouldn't have allowed it. She'd ignored or side-stepped every question about what had happened down there, attempting to hoodwink him in her childishly incompetent, adorably
Amu manner, but her every mannerism screamed at him that there was more to it than simply spending an hour walking up an emergency stairwell, that she was about to break down and cry her young heart out in front of him.
And then she hadn't, like she couldn't even feel her own emotions.
"Mostly I just stood there and held it together. I'm not sure I can explain…"
There was a lot she wasn't telling him. That wasn't anything new, she'd gotten increasingly secretive over the last few months, but he'd always imagined it was part of growing up. He'd agreed - no, he'd let Midori talk him into ignoring it, believing she understood best how to raise their daughters. Now, with Amu's hair colour unobtrusively shifting between shades of green, he was wondering if maybe that had been an unlucky choice.
"I have to check on my friends, I left them behind back at the stairs."
She didn't
sound distraught, or pained, or any of the shades of feeling he was expecting to hear in her voice. She sounded happy; chipper, almost, but her speech patterns had taken a turn for maturity along with the rest of her and he didn't feel safe relying on them anymore. It was only her body language that revealed her deeper distress.
"I'll meet you inside with Tadase and the others, all right?"
"Why did we let her go?" He heard Midori's quiet voice ask. He was wondering the same thing himself. True, there wasn't much reason not to - if she was safe anywhere, she'd be safe here - but therein lay the rub. He could no longer assume she
was safe anywhere.
"Old habit?" He ruefully considered.
Amu had started climbing down immediately after stating she would, taking their assent for granted. If he'd wanted to hold her back he would have needed to physically take hold of her, but that - that, he'd never done, and he hadn't reacted quickly enough.
Never mind that she'd turned around to tell him where she'd be. Never mind that, truthfully, he hadn't even tried to stop her.
He felt rather melancholic.
"We should go," he decided. "I want to be there for her when she shows up, and we can't leave Ami on her own for very long either. I'm not sure I trust that Yaya girl for babysitting, I got the feeling we might come back to find Ami babysitting Yaya."
Midori let out an unladylike snort. "Ha… Probably not, but you're right. We should go. Let's keep a closer eye on Amu from now on, all right?"
"You won't get any argument from me." Midori's eyes lit up, and he continued hastily. "- Which, yes, I understand is probably ruining your fun, but let's not start arguing about the lack of arguments right now. We should hurry. Although…"
Midori pouted, and he realised he'd pay for shutting her down like that later on, possibly with the umpteenth iteration of the Punic Wars.
"Although?"
He hesitated, glancing at the unearthly landscape around them. Normally Midori would be the one to point out problems, and he'd turn them into little jokes, but this particular one was too serious for that treatment. That was probably why she hadn't said anything.
"- Watching over Amu is probably the single best way we have to make a living, right now. Think about it; Japan was just hit with the single most damaging earthquake in history, for all that there isn't very much damage in any single spot, and this time I don't think we'll get any foreign aid. I don't think there will be much use for a housewives' magazine for a while, or if making one is even logistically possible. As for me -" Midori looked poleaxed, but not surprised. She just hadn't wanted to face it, then.
He sighed, feeling a sour feeling settle in his stomach. "I take pictures of birds. That's how I make a living, and we're looking at a world
without a sun. I don't know how long Japan can hold out, maybe we can figure out a solution to running out of food, but there definitely won't be a job for me. No birds, no use for bird photos, and
no sunlight. Even if someone were willing to pay me for it, I can't possibly take decent pictures in this dim nothingness. Face it, we're both out of work. On the other hand, Amu is probably one of, if not
the most important person in Japan right now, and I'm including the Emperor in that. They might need her again…"
"Tsumugu, don't…" Midori looked deeply uncomfortable.
"Which is to say, we get some influence by dint of being her parents. They need
us, because they need
her, but that's only so long as we're helpful. If we're not…" He trailed off, letting her draw her own conclusions; he knew she'd reach the same ones. If they weren't being helpful, this organisation - JPs - would start by applying pressure or even asking nicely, but it wouldn't stop there, not until they'd gotten what they wanted. Given the situation, he couldn't even blame them for that.
Well. Looking at Midori's pale, twisted expression, he decided that actually he could. They'd go along as long as Amu was okay with it, but the moment she wasn't - or if he decided they were just using her, or lying - well, to hell with safety. Amu was
his daughter, and
no one would stop him from keeping her safe.
A/N: This started out as the first scene of the next snippet, but it grew, and grew... I've got a lot more where that came from, from Amu's perspective, but it's not quite ready yet; next story post tomorrow. Vacations are nice. /人◕ ‿‿ ◕人\
Why, no, parents aren't useless. I'm not deliberately destroying every trope I can get my hands on... just some of the more unrealistic ones.