"Ami's going to be very annoyed we left her behind," Amu warned.
"Ami's also going to be upset if we take her to a crime scene," Mom countered. "And you will be upset if she gets hurt."
"Fair," Amu admitted, adjusting her seatbelt. Mom pulled out of the driveway. There had been no reporters or anything; nothing to stop them simply walking away, but Mom had suggested taking the car. Which was okay, she supposed. It was faster than the bus.
"Miki's annoyed as well," Amu added, glancing backwards at the house.
"Miki was passing out," her mother pointed out. "She needed to sleep, and you said it yourself, she can't be any help right now."
That wasn't what Amu had said, but they both knew that. Couldn't use Miki as a chara if she wasn't a chara. And besides, there was that word. 'Use'.
They'd left when Miki had fallen asleep again. With Ami and Dad fussing over her the poor girl hadn't had much choice in the matter. Mom had said, with a straight face, that Miki seemed to be hibernating and that Ami shouldn't worry. Ami had immediately volunteered to guard her with stuffed toys. Dad had been trapped—again—which was why they'd escaped when they had.
It wasn't that they didn't want them, just-
Just what?
She wasn't quite sure what to say. She felt weird, sitting in the passenger seat of the car without Dad or Ami along. Her mom was driving. That wasn't new, exactly, but... she felt... she didn't know.
Tired, she supposed. Tired and relieved, and a little sick, and nervous. A mix of emotions, but most of all relieved. Mom and Dad weren't mad at her. She'd told them her secrets, and they'd accepted her, and-
-and everything would be fine. She wasn't sure when, exactly, she'd become so afraid.
"I don't really think it's a crime scene," Amu murmured, as Mom drove. "There's bound to be some simple explanation. Kana broke her phone, maybe. Or..."
"I'm sure there is," her mother agreed.
She fiddled with the radio. A pop song was playing, and she let it wash over her, not thinking too much about the lyrics.
"I'm sorry," she finally mumbled. "For keeping all this a secret. For not telling you about Kana, or Easter, or anything really. I thought- I didn't want you to worry. At first it was like a game. And then, once it wasn't-" She swallowed. "It was scary. And I didn't want you to be mad at me."
"Well, we are a bit mad," Mom said.
Amu flinched.
"Not about Kana," her mother clarified. "That was understandable, given the circumstances. But Amu, your father and I are always here for you. You don't have to go through the world alone. That's our job. Parents are supposed to take care of you. Amu, you're not a magical girl—except literally, maybe?" She shook her head. "Regardless, you're our daughter. It's not your job to protect us. Not like this."
"Sorry," Amu said.
"Don't apologise. It's not like we're all that mad, or even disappointed. We're just... concerned, about a lot of things. Your safety, your well-being, and the well-being of those around you." She took a hand off the steering wheel, reaching over to ruffle her daughter's brown hair. "You've grown up, haven't you. It's a parent's job to be proud of that, and to miss their child when she becomes an adult. You're doing it too early, and that's a shame, but we are proud. I'm not sure your father and I ever properly thanked you for taking care of Ami-chan."
"No need," Amu mumbled.
They drove in silence for a little while, and then Mom spoke up again.
"I'll be a hypocrite for saying this, but yes, there's need. Amu, your little sister can control minds. You can't imagine how terrifying that would be to most people, and to us it's... not as scary, maybe, but it's certainly disconcerting. Even knowing that Ami's a sweet child, a good girl who would never hurt a fly, I can't help but feel a bit afraid. What happens when she gets angry? If she makes a mistake? She's seven years old, and the things she could do-"
"She'd never," Amu interrupted, her voice soft.
"She wouldn't want to," her mother agreed. "But all the same I can't stop worrying. Amu, I can't guide her. I can't tell how she's doing. I don't have your abilities. You do. It's not your job, but you're the only one who can. Ami trusts you and so do we. It's hard to accept. We'll have to help you do it, but right now..." She took a deep breath. "Please, teach her. She trusts you to the end of the world. I can't imagine the pressure that puts on your shoulders, and it's an unfair thing to ask of you. So let me say this.
"Please, Amu," Mom said. "Trust us too. We're not the sort of people who run screaming at the slightest hint of danger. We'll be there for you and your sisters, whatever happens. Always. And that's not a promise, it's a fact. Believe in us."
Amu went silent. She studied her mother's face, but it might as well have been blank. What emotions were there, she couldn't read them. So she fell back to the words and her memories. This was her mother. She'd never, not even once, given Amu reason to doubt her.
"Okay," she finally said, and then, her voice very small. "Thank you."
Her mother said nothing, but ruffled her hair again, and that silence was as comforting as a hug.
The rest of the drive was spent in a quiet sort of peace. Utau was waiting outdoors when they got there—she could feel her at a distance—and the sight of the blonde teen had Amu smiling, her mood soon much lighter. Utau was dressed in her 'incognito' clothes, of course—a black hoodie and cap, a pair of sunglasses and pants instead of her usual skirt—but their minds meshed as soon as she arrived, Utau reaching out to her and Amu reaching back, and from there it was impossible not to smile.
Utau's eyes narrowed as the car approached, though her confusion faded as she connected the freckled brunette in the front seat with Amu.
"Utau-chan!" Amu called, cheeks going pink the moment she opened the door. She waved her friend over, her heart fluttering in her chest.
"Good evening, Amu," the older girl greeted her. "And Mrs Hinamori. Thank you for taking me along."
"Hello Utau," her mother replied, her voice calm. "How are you doing today? It's been a while."
"It has," Utau agreed. "And I'm a little confused," she admitted. "Amu sent me a message, but I'm not sure I get it. I certainly don't mind helping out, if- You need me as a bodyguard? Did I get that right?"
Amu winced, because her text had probably not made much sense.
"Something like that," her mother agreed. "Why don't you get inside and she'll explain it while on the move? I'd prefer not to talk in the open." She motioned to the back seat.
"Of course," the girl agreed, not missing a beat.
Amu took a quick glance at Mom and then jumped out of the car, opening the back door for Utau. She'd been hoping to brush past her maybe, a hug ideally, but the blonde gave her an amused smile, her eyes glimmering behind the sunglasses, and stepped around her into the car. Amu quickly got in beside her, blushing and trying not to meet the eyes of her mother. Or Utau.
Mom, hiding a smile, started the car and began the short drive towards Kana's street.
"It's not a big deal, probably," Amu assured Utau, as her friend leaned back in her seat and Amu debated with herself whether or not to lean closer, and whether or not that was a weird thing to want. "You remember Kana, right? She might have gotten in trouble. I want to make sure she's okay."
"Define 'trouble'," Utau asked, her eyes narrowing.
So she did.
⁂
It was a big deal.
Telling Utau what had happened wasn't any easier than telling Mom and Dad, and by the end of it Amu felt very, very small. The two girls sat next to each other, Amu curled up on her seat, Utau leaning forward with her head resting on the driver's seat in front. They'd finished their arguing; Utau hadn't shouted at her, probably could never do that, but Amu could feel her emotions. Not as much upset about the secrecy, because there hadn't been as much. No, rather-
"How do you keep getting into these situations?" Utau sighed, shaking her head.
It wasn't quite an accusation, and not quite disappointment. Frustration, Amu thought. Worry. Concern. Fear. An ironic sense of resignation.
"Lulu claims I have bad taste in friends," Amu mumbled, her cheeks hot. "Herself included."
Utau laughed, leaning back. They fell back into silence for a few moments, Amu not sure what else to say. Utau was there, and that- that-
It made her happier than she could quite describe. It was almost like Kana. No questioning herself, no wondering if she'd said the wrong thing. She couldn't see Utau's thoughts, but she could feel her reactions. Anyone and everyone would, some just confused it for their own.
But there was that connection. A familiarity. A knowledge that Utau cared, and trusted, and liked her too.
Utau sighed, closing her eyes.
"This is why I worry," the blonde murmured, leaning against the window. "It's a mess," she decided.
"I know," Amu admitted.
"So... Manticore, huh."
Amu nodded. Utau sighed. "Maybe I should stay over," she said. "You know, so I can sit on you. You seem to need it sometimes."
Amu said nothing. She could tell that Utau didn't really mean it. At the same time she had trouble thinking of a proper comeback
"Speaking of staying over," Mom said. "Next week, maybe. It can't be this one. The guest room's booked."
Utau blinked.
"You've got visitors?"
"Of a sort," Mom said, turning down another road. She smiled slightly, Amu could see. "It's a girl Amu's age. Amu's size roughly. Blue eyes. Dark hair that's a little shorter than Amu's, so silky it nearly looks blue. A beret she carries around everywhere..." Amu was suddenly very aware that Mom made a habit of embarrassing her, as Utau's emotions spiked. "She spends a lot of time with Ami, she's very artistic, she's probably sleeping on the couch right now, and she's a cute, clever little thing."
Utau stared, her emotions blanking from Amu's touch
"You do wear your heart on your sleeve, don't you?" Mom continued.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Utau protested.
"Her name is Miki," Mom concluded, looking up at the rearview mirror. Her eyes met Utau's, who strained to meet them. "I expect she'd like it very much if you came to visit. I met her for the first time last week, and now we're shopping for a bunk bed so my twins can sleep in the same room again. Today has been..." She seemed to be searching for words. "A day. It's nice to have Utau-chan here, but Utau-chan, would you like to explain what you're doing with a little devil girl on your shoulder?"
"You can see her?" Amu and Utau said, simultaneously.
Midori sighed.
"Yes," she said, voice tired. "Yes I can. Now answer the question."
"It's- She's- Her name is Iru," Utau managed, her face flushing. "We're-"
"Friends," Iru interjected, sounding sleepy.
Utau twitched. "You're awake?"
"Barely," Iru yawned. "You talk very loudly. And this is very comfy." She was indeed still snuggling on Utau's shoulder, eyes bleary and body limp. She stretched her tiny arms, then looked at Midori. "I'm Utau's chara, that's why." She yawned again. "Nikaidou Iru, pleased to meet you. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to come back later. I'm taking a nap." She burrowed her head back against Utau's neck.
"How can she see you?" Utau hissed.
"Eyes," Iru mumbled. "She believes in us. Don't worry so much. Sleep."
"I wasn't planning to- and you're asleep," Utau sighed. She looked up, meeting Midori's gaze. "You just told me Miki's asleep in your house."
"She is," Mom agreed, slowing the car to pull into a side-street. They'd almost reached Kana's home. Amu recognised the park, but kept quiet. This was important.
"You told me she's..." Utau frowned. "Bigger?"
"More her proper size, yes," Mom agreed. She pulled into a parking spot. "So now I have three daughters. Is that a problem?"
Amu let her head drop into her hands.
"No," said Utau. "But furthermore, you're having too much fun with this. And making assumptions. Iru and Eru aren't like Miki."
"Am I?" Mom stopped the car. "Well, it's been a stressful day. Humour an old woman."
The sudden lack of engine noise left a vacuum of sound, and for a few moments Amu just sat there, Utau silent beside her and her mother in the front. A couple houses down, she could see the familiar shape of the entrance to Kana's street, with the worn playground just beyond. A good three hundred metres; a safe distance to peek.
Mom turned to look straight at Utau. Or Iru, perhaps.
"Now," she said. "About that sleepover..."
Utau twitched again.
"Miki's most likely asleep," said Mom, derailing whatever Utau had been thinking. "She's safe and comfortable, and I'm certain she'll be very happy to see you once she does. She's borrowing the guest room until we have a bed for her, which might be just one day, unless she and Amu decide they want to share Amu's. And now I find myself questioning-" She looked at Iru, definitely this time. "If there's more girls like her running around, trapped in too-small bodies."
Iru ostentatiously yawned, snuggling deeper against Utau.
"Naah," the tiny chara supplied. "Miki's special." And then apparently went back to sleep.
"Like she said," Utau stressed. "Miki was always different, even I could tell that. Eru and Iru aren't-" She drew a breath, visibly calming down. "They're friends. I wouldn't want to be without them. They're as much a part of me as Ran and Su are part of Amu, and I would be able to tell-" She stressed her words again, reaching up to stroke Iru's hair; the supposedly sleeping devil chara moved out of the way. Amu tried not to chuckle. "I would be able to tell if she was in any way unsatisfied. Iru is fine with what she is. She always has been. Miki, on the other hand…"
Mom stared at her, then at Iru. Amu and Utau shared an uncomfortable moment, not sure if Iru's poker face would hold. And then, Mom's mask slipped, and Amu and Utau were confronted with a smile that, while wry, was definitely amused.
"I'll give you this," said Mom. "A shoulder devil is certainly one of the funnier secrets you could have had. Do you perhaps have a shoulder angel as well?"
Utau stalled.
"That-"
"She does!" said Amu, before Utau could stop her. "Her name is Eru, and she's a menace. She and Miki don't get along."
"Hey!" protested Utau.
Mom snorted, and then started laughing.
"Of course," she managed, as Utau sulked. "Why am I even surprised? Oh dear." She looked at Amu. "A shoulder devil and a shoulder angel. It's not even close to the strangest thing. I suppose you won't be a triplet in another month then?"
Now that would be hilarious, Amu decided. Big Eru and Iru? They'd tear Utau in half, and- and they wouldn't really fit on her shoulder anymore, would they? The mental image was both a bit sad, and a bit cute.
But probably not.
Amu was starting to wonder. What made Miki... Miki? Why had the others stayed small? Su, she thought, hadn't ever thought about it. Ran had, because being pint-sized made it hard to play football—but Ran was Amu, in the end. Amu was almost as much Ran as she was... Amu. They'd merged. Miki on the other hand had never been much like her. They'd acted the same way—sometimes, Amu spending too much time quietly doodling in class without talking—but it was for different reasons. Miki liked being that way. Amu didn't.
"Definitely not," Utau sighed. "Though..." She gave Amu a sharp look. "How's Miki doing? Has she really just been... napping?"
"Ask me tomorrow," said Amu. "It's been less than two hours."
"Miki and Iru need to talk," Utau concluded, reaching up to prod Iru's tiny side. "Eru too, but Iru is the one who summons instruments, so..."
Iru mumbled an affirmative, her voice incoherent.
"They might," Midori agreed, her expression thoughtful. "We're getting side-tracked, aren't we. What's the plan?"
"Plan?" Amu said.
"For Kana and Naomi," Utau prompted. "We're here, right?" She leaned forward, staring out the window. "You can feel that, can't you?"
"What?" Amu blurted.
"...can't you?" the blonde asked.
Amu focused. She felt a little foolish, actually.
"There's something," she muttered, feeling a little ashamed. "But it's not... I was trying not to look. If I open up I'll see Mom's emotions too. It's best not to listen."
There was a pause, as the other two looked at her.
"Define 'see my emotions'," Mom requested.
"Um. You told me not to read minds," Amu explained, giving her an awkward smile while Mom looked at her in mild disbelief. "So I wasn't paying attention, because—well, I wasn't supposed to, right? I was trying not to see your emotions, so I missed..."
She shook her head. Whatever was there, it was weak. And it wasn't giving her a bad feeling, not like staying home had. She couldn't tell what it was, though. Not at the same time she was trying not to see Mom.
"Something's a little bit off," said Utau. "I can't tell what it is, though… but Amu…" She gave Amu the same expression of mild disbelief as Mom. "What do you mean you're not looking?"
"At people's emotions?" Amu's expression was guilty. "It's just- you get used to it and after a while it's hard to stop? So I thought it's best not to start. And because Mom told me not to," she added, a touch sheepishly.
"I told you not to read minds," her mother corrected.
"Right?" Amu said, a little lost. "That's why Utau noticed it first." Whatever it was.
Utau blinked. Mom stared at her. Amu felt, abruptly, as though she'd said the wrong thing.
Was this going to be another mistake? It was, wasn't it? Amu bit her lip. Utau gave Midori a slow, uncertain sort of look, something in her expression becoming guarded, and Amu wasn't sure where this was going.
Mom sighed.
"You two really don't think much about that sort of thing, do you," she commented.
"About what?" Amu asked, as Utau, to Amu's confusion, blushed.
"I can't just not see people's emotions," Utau defended. "I try, but I can't. How would you turn off your ears? It's the same thing."
Mom was giving them a Look.
"What?" Utau frowned, feeling defensive. "It's not that bad, right?"
"Just when I thought your life couldn't get any stranger," Midori sighed, reaching up to rub her temples. "No, I suppose it might not be. Amu-chan," Mom clarified. "I said to not invade other people's privacy. Not to walk around deaf. I'm going to make a blind guess here, and- stop me if I'm wrong, but you're saying you can't just turn it off? You're always feeling people's emotions, all of the time?"
"It's... well, I can try?" Amu felt awkward. "It kinda works."
"It doesn't, for me." Utau shook her head. "I've been trying not to do it since leaving Easter, but I can't. It's just always there."
"And that's your normal life," Mom said, tapping the driver's wheel. "Then, I suppose..." her mother mused, her face doing something funny, "-hold on for a second. Is this why you were so unusually... tone-deaf, earlier today?"
"Uh," Amu mumbled, her face red.
"No, not like that," her mother sighed, her eyes closing. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to understand. This is... let me test something. What does it look like I'm feeling, right now? Just look at my face."
She was smiling, so Amu was reasonably confident the answer was 'happy'.
"Happiness?" she said.
"All right, then. How about Utau-chan?"
Utau looked over. "False cheer," she said, her voice flat. "That's the worst fake smile I think I've ever seen. You're nervous. Scared. Worried, maybe, too."
"Not bad," Mom admitted, giving the girl a small nod.
"You're also a bit impressed, and a bit amused," Utau added. "But just so you know, I would have seen that with my back turned. Plus I've practised on photographs."
"And I bet Amu never had to," said Mom, giving another small sigh. "This isn't how I thought the evening would go, honestly."
"Sorry," Amu mumbled.
"Still not your fault," her mother commented.
"It's a lot like trying not to hear," Utau suggested, leaning back in her seat. "You could try learning to lip-read, but so long as your ears are working, there's little chance you'll do it by accident. I should have guessed something like this might be happening. She doesn't like movies, you know."
"I like anime," Amu objected.
"Yes, but that's a different thing entirely," Utau pointed out. "You said it's hard to follow the story. I bet..."
Utau radiated nothing but concern and affection.
"I can tell what Mom's feeling," Amu muttered, crossing her arms and looking out the window. "If I let myself."
Which she wasn't doing, and- yeah, faces were hard. Harder than she remembered actually. She'd slowly stopped watching for people's expressions over the past year or two. Not because she didn't want to, exactly, but… well… no-one seemed to mind. If she was chatting with her classmates, no-one really cared.
She tried it now, and there was Mom's smile—not as happy as it seemed, apparently. She peeked a little bit, and there was a whole lot of concern. Utau, she noted, was largely just perplexed. Amu shifted, leaning her head against the older girl's shoulder. That was a comfort. She tried not to think about it too much.
"And you can't, if you don't," Mom murmured, her voice contemplative. She looked at Amu. "I think I see. So that's why you were missing so much today. I'm sorry, Amu-chan. I should have clarified. Most people spot emotions on faces, not minds, but they aren't secret. It's not wrong of you to look for them."
"So," Utau said, leaning forward, "in other words?"
"Stop deafening yourself," her mother ordered. "I'd rather you didn't read minds, but emotions are fine. I'd like to see you become more sensitive, not less. You shouldn't have to struggle. I want you to understand how people are feeling, Amu-chan." She sighed. "And to learn how to read faces as well, but we'll take that one day at a time."
Amu blinked.
"Really?"
"Really," Mom confirmed, looking at her with a sore sort of affection. "It's probably better, isn't it. Your powers are what they are, and- well, I want to understand them as well. I'll help you learn how to deal with this. It's no good, you talking to people and missing half their emotional cues."
"Huh," Amu managed. Then, because she could—and because she could tell, because Mom needed this—she crawled forward and gave her mother a hug, burying her head in the woman's neck. She hadn't done that since- well, less than an hour, and Mom tensed up at first. But then she relaxed, returning the hug, and Amu squeezed her tight.
"Thanks, Mom," she mumbled.
"Of course, Amu-chan," Mom murmured, gently patting her head. "What sort of mother would I be, if I didn't help out when you needed it?"
Amu had an answer to that, which she thought but didn't say. It was 'a normal one', and Mom had never been normal, had she.
Instead she just hugged her mother tight, not moving. The seatbelt kept her from hugging her properly, and after a short while Mom pushed her off, smiling.
"As for now, Utau-chan?"
Amu crawled back. Utau nodded.
"It wasn't wasted, but we've spent enough time. Let's get to rescuing Kana."
⁂
Their plan had been a simple one.
Drive towards Kana, check at a distance for anything off, then drive slowly past the house while Amu and Utau did their best to scan for anything that might be wrong. Then, if need be, stop the car and have Amu break the door down and they could rescue anyone who needed rescuing
That had been the plan. It worked great, up to a point. Amu was already fairly certain nobody was watching, at least outside the house. Nobody in that direction felt like government agents, and she had Mom's blessing to mind-read all she needed if that was what it took to keep her safe, not that she could do so at this distance. But nobody felt particularly concentrated, or alarmed, or aggressive.
There was a girl walking a dog, who felt curious at their approach but no more, and the girl disappeared around the corner. A boy and girl walked past. They had skateboards under their arms, and one wore a blue-tipped black hoodie and the other a red t-shirt, and Amu felt a pang of worry for Ikuto—Utau squeezed her hand—but there wasn't any need for alarm. Just a pair of strangers who, for all Amu knew, were headed home from school or the skate park. They vanished in the opposite direction.
Lots of people inside their homes.
A couple making out. Amu blushed and stopped looking, her feelings conflicted.
Children playing, or watching television, or eating dinner.
There wasn't anyone who felt scary, or even concerned, just the general hum of the world.
"Drive us a little closer," Amu asked. "Not too close. Just to the playground at the end of the street, maybe?"
Mom obligingly drove the last hundred metres, rolling towards Kana's neighbourhood. Amu closed her eyes, focusing.
There was definitely something. She was more or less sure it was abnormal. But if no-one felt alarmed, then how bad could it be? Maybe it was Yui playing with her powers; Kana had already told her, or at least thought it, that Yui's abilities made a weird sort of funhouse mess of the room when she used them deliberately. She just usually didn't, because they scared her. That might explain the weird sense of something that Amu was getting.
The car rolled into Kana's street, Amu opening her eyes and squinting ahead.
Nothing. She looked at Mom.
"Anything?" Mom asked.
Amu shrugged.
Utau glanced between them, frowning.
"So... do we knock on their door, then?"
"Maybe," Amu said, looking ahead. "I have an idea. Utau, did you bring the Dumpty Key?"
"The Dumpty Key? Why?" Utau reached into her hoodie pocket. "What do you have in mind?"
"Let Mom park us by the playground first," Amu requested.
Mom obliged, pulling into an empty spot just a few houses from Kana's home, the playground itself not two metres away. Amu peered up at the rooftops as they approached the building Kana lived in, eyes narrowing. If Manticore was hiding, it was possible they'd set up some sort of anti-psychic machinery. She'd have believed it of the two idiots in Easter, and Manticore was supposed to be their better, scarier cousin, so-
There was no machinery she could sense. Just that slight, prickly funhouse labyrinth feeling. It got a lot more obvious as they got closer, but not in the sense that she could actually tell what it was. Feeling out reality through her psionic senses was like staring through mist at the best of times, and whatever was inside Kana's house was a lot harder to figure out. Like staring into a fog bank, she guessed, only with her eyes closed.
Amu hummed under her breath. Mom parked the car and Utau stepped out, stretching as she stood up. The sun was setting, but the sky was still bright with the dying rays of light, casting long shadows across the ground. Utau looked around, taking in the houses and the occasional person walking nearby, and gave a small nod.
"Nice enough place," she said. "Reminds me of my old neighbourhood."
Amu hopped out of the car as well and turned around, stepping towards Utau. Mom got out too and together the three of them stood on the edge of the sidewalk. Amu opened up, for real this time—not just looking, but reaching out as best she could. They- Mom felt like Mom, which was to say a confusing mish-mash of parental emotions that Amu only half-understood. Love, concern, a bit of fear. Utau was Utau; her emotions were easy to identify, even if they were a bit odd. Worry, a faint hint of affection, a bit of anticipation, and...
Utau's mind interlaced with hers, affectionate warmth bleeding through Amu's senses. It wasn't a word, or a feeling, exactly. Just- a sensation that felt almost like a hug. Amu flushed.
"Let's not dally," Utau said, her voice casual, her gaze calm. "I'd prefer to find your friend before dinner, wouldn't you?"
"Y-yeah," Amu agreed, cheeks red. "You've had the Dumpty Key for years," she told Utau. "Have you ever used it?"
"Ikuto was the one who had it, not me," reminded Utau. "But- no." She looked a bit guilty. "It's a keepsake from Dad. My real father, not-" She faltered.
"I get it," Amu assured her. "Um, I think. That said- Ikuto gave it to you, didn't he? After he left. That's- I mean, you're both really important to me, but you're the most important person to him."
Utau looked up at the sun, her expression conflicted. Amu gave her a moment.
"He was probably trying to annoy me," Utau finally said. "He'd say 'that way you'll match', or something along those lines." She snorted. "He's an idiot."
Amu wasn't sure Utau's emotions backed up the words, but she didn't protest. He often was.
"That said," the blonde continued, "I suppose it's fitting I'm using it to help you out."
"Maybe," Amu agreed, trying not to laugh. She stepped closer, taking the blonde girl's hand in her own. "That would be like him," Amu conceded.
"True," Utau murmured, meeting her eyes. She hesitated, before nodding. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, um." Amu hesitated, feeling her cheeks heat up. "It's a bit complicated, I'm not really sure, but basically I was thinking it's an amplifier. I mean, I used the Lock to- uh..."
"Play magical girl?" Mom suggested.
Amu blushed.
"Right," Utau said, laughing. "Complete with special attacks! So-" She glanced down at the Dumpty Key in her hand, spinning it on her finger. "You want to do that again?"
Amu thought.
"Um," she said. "No, I don't think I should. That one is yours, and... well, I already lent the Lock to Saaya. Using yours would feel like cheating. I was thinking something else?"
"Something else," Utau repeated, looking at the Dumpty Key in her hands. She tossed it once, caught it again.
"Utau," Amu began. She took a deep breath. Utau met her eyes. "Don't just hold on to the Key. Ikuto gave it to you to keep you safe." A beat. "So use it. Please."
"Use it," Utau repeated. Her emotions were conflicted. There was... doubt, and Amu knew her well enough to guess why. But there was also some excitement, and a hint of...
"Please," Amu repeated, her eyes not leaving Utau's.
"I don't think this is the best place for testing powers, girls," Mom spoke up.
"It's fine," Utau said, waving her off. "I think I know what it does. Amu's right, it's just an amplifier; all it'll do is make me stronger." She frowned. "I think."
"If you're sure," Mom said.
⁂
Utau closed her eyes, letting the Key rest in her palm. Her thoughts turned inwards, emotions conflicted. Ikuto had given it to her, then disappeared; that was the problem. But- it would make her stronger, maybe, and Amu needed that right now. So did Utau, if she was being honest with herself. Amu wouldn't use the Key herself, because Amu was Amu, but-
Utau could. It wouldn't hurt her.
"Here goes nothing," she decided, and took a deep breath.
She tried, for a moment, to feel Amu's emotions. Tried to draw strength from them, and- yes, that felt right, a warm fuzzy sensation of trust and care and- she wouldn't think about the last one.
The Dumpty Key shone. It didn't grow warm; it was already warm in her hands. Utau felt- light.
"You okay?" Amu asked.
Utau nodded. It wasn't power, she realised, but she could feel Amu in a way she hadn't before, and- Midori too. That knot of love, so carefully embracing Amu—that felt like her. Iru, on her shoulder, and half a dozen lines of power spreading out from her, tying her to-
To Eru and Miki, and Utau could feel them there too. She didn't understand it. Amu gave her a questioning look, and Utau gave her a tiny smile.
To Hikaru, who glanced up from where he lay curled around a comic book in her old stepfather's home, bored, then suddenly excited. She felt him look back along their connection, and Utau let him, not understanding but- okay? Yes, okay. Hikaru trusted her, if no-one else. She felt a questioning sort of sensation, a hint of worry, and Utau gave him a mental sort of pat. It would be fine. She thought.
She felt Ami. She hadn't meant to, but she could-
Ami was asleep, tucked against Miki's side in Amu's home—a father's embrace, and Utau was jealous in a way she refused to show, and- a doubling of sensation, as Ami stared back at her from underneath a bridge made from shadow, only she was taller, and blonde, so beautiful she almost hurt to look at. Ami's eyes were blazing gold, her expression-
Utau twitched.
Dad- Nikaidou- leant over a robot, the same egg-cooker—egg-smasher—he'd been playing with for weeks, and she felt a burst of warmth, but Dad wasn't her target.
"Utau?" Amu asked.
"-sorry, connection, not sure," she managed.
She felt Dia.
Dia's powers were-
The world glitched. She felt the sky shift above, the ground tremble underneath. Dia was-
Utau felt arms wrap around her.
A blazing white star hung in a midnight sky, a single point of light that denied the moon, illuminating every city on the planet- no, Utau wasn't-
Someone kissed her on the lips, soft and gentle and a shock in more ways than one.
The world shuddered, unravelling like torn parchment. A passenger plane disappeared mid-flight, turning into an image on a screen—a blonde girl and a boy with spiky hair, sharing a hug—and Utau thought- no, that couldn't be Ami-
A flight of angels swept overhead, feathers drifting to the ground beneath them. One angel fell, plummeting towards Utau with spear outstretched. It did not, could never reach her. It exploded into golden spheres of starlight, and the world rang like a gong as it submitted.
"Utau, snap out of it!"
Utau shuddered. Reality- right. Dia. Too much. How did Amu cope? Utau reached out- no, that was- she grasped the Dumpty Key tighter, and Amu was there, she could feel her-
She told the overeager little key to tone it down, and couldn't quite muster the shock she felt she should probably feel when it obeyed.
⁂
Amu watched, wide-eyed, as Utau wavered on her feet. The blonde's eyes were closed, and she held the Dumpty Key tightly, her knuckles white. For a second Amu panicked, almost stepping forward to catch the girl, but- Utau wouldn't fall, would she?
She did not.
It took only a moment, then Utau was blinking her eyes open, giving Amu a shaky sort of smile. Her emotions felt... Amu hesitated to put a word to it. Strange wasn't right, it was- something else. Calmer than they had been before.
Utau stared down at her hands, at her Key.
"That went... weirdly," she offered.
Amu waited.
"Kana," Utau finally said, looking at Amu. Her gaze sharpened. "Right. Kana. I only met her once, but- give me a second."
She closed her eyes, Amu watching. Utau frowned. She turned on her heel, looking up at the houses- Kana's house, Amu guessed, and- there was something. A tug on a part of her mind that she rarely paid much attention, something like- like gravity, maybe? An attraction. Utau seemed to find what she was looking for. Amu could tell. The blonde smiled.
"Found her," Utau declared. "She's asleep... over there." Utau waved a hand vaguely towards Kana's house, then turned towards Amu and Mom. "I think she's okay. She doesn't feel hurt, but there's also-" Utau frowned. "You said there should be three others, right?"
"Four," Amu corrected.
"Well, I can only feel one," Utau decided. "And it isn't Naomi. It isn't someone I've met before. A young girl, I think?"
"That would be Yui," Amu agreed, and Utau nodded.
"She feels... scared," she summarised. "Not hurt, or- I can't quite tell? She's too distant." Utau paused. "She's- dreaming, but not dreaming. It feels-" Utau frowned. "Do dreams have a texture?"
Amu didn't know, and Utau didn't look as though she had the words.
"Do we knock on the door?" Mom asked, interrupting the pair.
Amu and Utau looked at her.
Mom shrugged.
"We came to help them, yes? That said," Midori continued, looking at Utau, "You don't sound like everything's okay."
"I don't think they're in any immediate danger," Utau allowed. "But this- I don't know."
"I think we knock on the door," Amu said.
⁂
They did. No-one answered, so Amu knocked again. Utau looked around, taking in the setting sun and the empty street. There were lights on in a few houses, but not many. Mom had parked the car where it couldn't be easily seen from Kana's home; it was a risk, but if anyone were photographing it then they'd only capture a woman and two unknown girls, and even Midori was in disguise. Utau hoped no-one was.
There was no-one paying attention, that she could tell. Everything looked completely normal.
Mom rang the bell. Amu looked back at her.
"Well?" Mom asked.
"...no reaction," Utau said, closing her eyes. "They can't hear us, and they still feel just as far away. Still inside the building..." She shrugged, a little helplessly. "Just still, somehow, far away."
Amu frowned, biting her lip. That didn't sound- well, normal. What was going on? She reached out- she could feel Yui, up this close. It felt like Yui, but the feeling was distorted somehow. She actually couldn't feel Kana, and that was scary in a league all of its own.
"I'm opening the door," she decided, reaching for the doorknob. She turned it, and nothing bad happened.
It was locked.
Amu looked at Utau.
Utau looked at Mom.
Amu turned it further, gripping the metal inside it with telekinesis- it stretched, and then there was a sharp, metallic snapping sound. Amu felt bad.
The door opened.
There was no-one in the entrance. They stepped inside, Utau pausing to glance both directions—the living room was a few metres down, kitchen the opposite way, but-
She paused, her gaze falling on the stairway leading to the second floor. Her eyes followed it up. And up, and up, and some more, until-
She pointed.
Amu blinked, following Utau's finger up the staircase. She'd seen it when they visited before, and- no, the stairway definitely shouldn't lead up into a blurry-edged, misty tunnel that looked like it led straight to the sky. She saw three or four landings, and the house only had two. She stared.
"What," she managed.
"I can feel them both upstairs," Utau concluded.
Midori let out a sigh.
= = =
Midori is fine. The structural integrity of the house is also, apparently, fine. It's all fine.
There is fog covering the stairway, but that is fine.
[ ] Explore the ground floor
- The ground floor seems fine. Nothing's off, but maybe there are clues?
[ ] Cautiously explore upwards
- The first landing has small mist-animals on it, grazing at the carpet.
- It isn't supposed to have carpet, and the corridor is in the wrong direction.
- The animals look fine.
[ ] Beeline for where you can feel Yui
- Currently that appears to be 'up'.
- Yui seems fine.
[ ] Try the second floor
- The second floor looks vaguely like the first floor should have looked, and this was a two-floor house.
- Except for a fine-looking tree, and the doorframes are framed in glass, from what you can see.
- It at least has the right geometry, which is fine.
[ ] Get out of there!
- None of this is fine!
- Call for help? Subvote required.
[ ] Write-in
