Fenix nodded, instantly understanding what she meant. If Emma was here, and either tried to sneak out under their noses or make a run for it, someone at the door was an asset if it was the only one. Though it was unlikely in his current condition he could stop someone of even Emma's stature, he could at least give her pause and slow her down enough that Mayako caught up.

As Mayako entered, he leaned against the wall with a sigh of relief. He didn't want her to see how draining this was on him; she was too nice for her own good, and would probably prioritize getting him back to the clinic before continuing her search if she witnessed any signs of fatigue in him.

Such kindness was a virtue, but it could also be an escape; surrounding yourself with others problems helped you forget your own. He wondered if that was the reason for her volunteer work at the clinic; she hid it well, but he sometimes got the impression she was more affected by the disasters of the village than she let on.

Ultimately, it was one of the primary reasons he thought Emma was a brat. Everything he'd heard and seen suggested she was as sharp as any adult, yet she continued to act like she was the only one suffering in the world when her friend was clearly trying to deal with things herself.

In no better way was this illustrated than with how Mayako looked when she emerged from the house. She was barely holding herself together; she'd lost just as much as Emma, and if she lost her too she'd be at her wit's end. A person who lost everything they knew and loved wasn't a pretty sight, either.

So while the logical part of his brain wanted to ask if she'd seen anything that might clue her in to where Emma want, or if she had an idea of where to check next, a different part won out, a part that dictated he gently put a hand on her shoulder and give her a sympathetic look.

No words of encouragement came to him, and any he said would be seen through as empty anyway. The only thing he could do was offer his support, and remind her that she wasn't alone.

"It's my fault . . ."

She was going to lose it. The weight of all things were coming down upon her. For her friends, she would have carried the entire weight of the world upon her shoulders, and with Emma as the last one of her friends left here in Hillcrest, Mayako sometimes felt like she did--and sometimes, that baring the weight of the world and every burden she possibly could just wasn't good enough to make Emma feel any better. It was amongst so many other things that Mayako simply wasn't good enough to do. She was just in the way. If she hadn't been so insistent that she stay with Emma, the Tsukimonos would have probably hired a psychologist from out of town to come in and try and help Emma with her problems. A professional would have probably helped her. Sarah would have probably helped her, too. And Davis. And . . . Eld. They could have helped Emma. But Mayako? Maybe she just wasn't good enough in the end.

Mayako looked up to Fenix at last. The tears that had been stinging at her eyes finally let themselves go, streaming down her cheeks in a steady stream.

"Emma's going to hurt herself again . . ." Mayako whimpered, ". . . and it's all my fault."

He was...unsure of what to do. It wasn't as though he'd never comforted a person in tears before, but they were always significantly younger than him. Mayako was close to his age, certainly close to his maturity, and now she needed someone to be there for her. There were probably any number of people better suited to it, but he was the one who was there.

A bit unsteadily, he let go of the wall and placed his other hand on her other shoulder. It may not have been the best decision, but it wasn't like she was entirely supporting his weight--so long as she didn't suddenly push him away, he'd keep his balance.

"...A lot's happened to both you and Emma. It's unfair to expect you take on everything for both of you."

But that wasn't really comfort, even if it was true. He paused for a moment, thinking of how best to put his thoughts. Though he certainly didn't know either Mayako or Emma particularly well, being a neutral party who talked to both, he had a bit of insight.

"Emma cares a lot about you...she worries about you, whether or not she shows it." He thought of the way she threatened his silence regarding what happened in Galaens--it was one of the only times she showed any emotion. "So...I don't think it's that you're not doing enough good for her. I think...maybe she doesn't think she's doing any good." He wasn't sure about that part, and it showed, but any hope was good at this point, he reasoned.

"So...when we find her, maybe you should tell her how much you need her."

Mayako did all she could to fight back tears again, but in the end she could not. It wasn't until Fenix give his best effort to consoling her that Mayako was able to hold her breath and consciously try not to cry, an effort which was slowly coming to fruition.

"I-- . . . I-- . . ." Mayako stuttered over her words.

She may not have known Fenix that well, but that didn't keep him from finding a way to bring about some hope in her heart. It wasn't immediate, but the reaction was there: Mayako brightened up. It may have been only slightly, but considering the fact that she was about ready to cry, as she had numerous times over the last few months, Fenix had definitely succeeded at something.

Mayako nodded slightly as she leaned her back against the doorframe and used it as a means of standing up. She would have taken one of Fenix's arms and had him help her stand, but doing so would have resulted in her accidentally dragging him down to the ground. Fenix probably wasn't well enough on his feet just yet . . .

"O-okay . . ." she tried to smile as she looked up to Fenix, "L-let's keep looking, then."

Fenix didn't know Mayako well enough to be able to tell how much she took his words to heart, but at least she was able to continue. He could say as much as he wanted, but ultimately the only thing that would make her feel better was knowing Emma was safe and sound.

Nodding in response, he moved back to the wall so Mayako could recover without worrying about knocking him off balance, as well as crab his crutch.

"Where to next?" he asked when she looked ready to go; unfortunately, he didn't have any idea where she might go, so Mayako would have to lead.

"I . . ." Mayako trailed off.

She wrapped her arm around Fenix (again, around the middle of his back, since he was about a foot and a half taller than her) and started to walk again, once he had his crutch with him once more. But to where? Mayako thought about it for awhile, close to a half a minute, as they simply walked away from the Vaerbond ranch. Mayako just didn't want to be there anymore.

"I-- I don't know, r-really," she whispered sadly, but continued with a more hopeful tone of voice: "B-but we'll ch-check everywhere we can!"



Night descended upon Hillcrest with great urgency, and soon it was far too dark to search for a lit florescent bulb in a field of shadows.

Defeated, Mayako had no choice but to bring Fenix back to the clinic. He was tired, she was tired; him much more than her--she could keep on going, fueled by adrenaline alone, but he couldn't. He was hurt, and after awhile, it just became next to impossible for him to walk at anything beyond a snail's pace. By that point, Mayako herself could barely see any smaller obstacles, and it became necessary to come home, albeit reluctantly.

There'd just been no trace of Emma.

Mayako was quiet. Eerily quiet, but understandably quiet. She was trying not to vent her thoughts from earlier, but she couldn't help but feel them--perhaps even more genuine than before.

The search was, alas, in vain. Fenix had a hunch it might be; someone as smart as Emma was probably not going to be found unless she wanted to be. She was sneaky enough to escape under the noses of everyone in the clinic, himself included--she could be in Galaens by now, for all they knew. Or so he figured; he was told it wasn't terribly far from here.

Moreover, as the night wore on, he came to a conclusion he did not altogether like; while they were perhaps not as urgent as Mayako's own worries, he had some of his own, too, and this one was particularly hard to admit.

"I'm sorry," he stated abruptly. "I wanted to help, but I was only a liability." Mayako would move faster without him, and knew the village far better than he--she could have covered much more ground if he'd stayed behind.

". . . it's . . ." Mayako replied softly, her voice so quiet that Fenix wouldn't have heard her were she not helping him walk, ". . . not your fault . . ."

There was only one thing left to do: try and find one of the Tsukimonos and deliver the horrible news. Maybe they had better news? Mayako hoped so, but during the course of her and Fenix's search, she hadn't found any traces of Emma. At the Vaerbond Ranch, Emma's room was a complete mess, but how recent the mess was, Mayako wasn't certain. As the only room left that really had many valuables left inside of it, anyone could have gone in there and ransacked it. It could have even happened when Emma was kidnapped by the Law some time ago. All search had effectively proven inconsequential.

So, Mayako took Fenix back to the clinic, in hopes of finding one of the Tsukimonos. Maybe they'd have better news, or maybe even the slightest bit of hope to instill into her.

It may not have been his fault they couldn't find her, but it didn't keep him from feeling like dead weight, a feeling he did not enjoy. He might not be as capable as his mentor, but he was still accustomed to being of some use in most situations, and here it seemed that his sharp eyes were offset by his weak body.

At the clinic, they'd find Urikuse doing the closing rounds, seeing if any of the patients needed anything before he turned in for the night, and making sure they knew how to summon him if they did need him. He paused in the hallway as he saw the two approach.

"Any luck?" he asked, though he guess the answer just by looking at them.

Mayako was largely silent following the brief exchange between she and Fenix. She hated the idea that she couldn't help her friend. Fenix may have told her not to blame herself, but she couldn't help it in this situation. Of course she was going to blame herself, her friend was gone, probably off having already hanged or cut herself or poisoned herself to death or something horrible like that! If that really happened . . . if they found Emma in a few days, only to discover they were days too late, that would've been the end of it for Mayako. She would've had no other reason left to try and live a normal life, and she'd simply dry and let life take her. Suicide was never an option for her, not anymore--but existing without thought was.

Her thoughts all faded when she encountered Urikuse. So . . . Emma wasn't back, then. He wouldn't have asked her if she'd had any luck, otherwise.

All she could do was shake her head. Mayako couldn't even make eye contact with Urikuse. She kind of wanted to cry again. All it'd take was one look at her face, and it'd be easy to tell for someone that didn't even know her, let alone someone that knew her almost her entire life, to see that she was ready to break down in tears. The very fact that she was helping Fenix to walk, and breaking down would make it impossible for him to keep standing, was all that kept her from giving in to the urge.

Urikuse's features softened slightly; he'd been afraid of that response, and Mayako was clearly taking it hard. Unfortunately, his wife was still away and she'd always been better at cheering people up. While depression was certainly not uncommon, especially as of late, it wasn't often he had to worry about a patient bringing harm to themselves.

For once, it made him appreciate the ways of his home country. While a person born there may not have had much choice in their place in life, at least they always had a place. However, Emma's one living family member had disappeared, along with his son, who'd been like a brother to her. Her home, which had once been lively and industrious between the stables and gardens, was now deserted and lifeless. While he may have known what it was like to be estranged from his family, it was largely by choice, and they were at least still alive. Or so he hoped. Cizok wasn't the safest place either, lately.

All he could really do was comfort Mayako with logic. "Mayako...as much as I hate to admit it, Emma probably could have hurt herself-" by which he meant killed herself, but he was at least sensitive enough not to outright say it "-by taking something from the clinic. She wouldn't have had to go anywhere. So...if she left, it's probably for another reason." It was shaky logic at best, but it was better than nothing.

He gave her a kind of half smile which only vaguely expressed his feelings, but the sincere look in his eyes was, while not exactly the same, similar to one she knew well. "I know you're worried, but it will do no good to assume the worse. Emma got up and left of her own accord; this could as easily be a good omen as an ill one."

It . . . made sense, yes. Mayako didn't look Urikuse in the face for awhile, but his words still made sense. It was a reluctant logic, though. Often times, a suicidal person wasn't thinking with that sort of rationality. A suicidal person would just go off somewhere of emotional interest to end his or herself. It wasn't entirely that they wanted to die so badly that they'd do anything to do it, only the desperate few that had been denied numerous times--those were the ones that would go so far as to bite their own tongues off.

But Emma was a rational, logical person. Even when she was afflicted with this depression, it was almost a rational reaction--everything Emma did here resembled her own usual reactions to lesser stimuli. These were rational reactions, they were just . . . warped.

Yes, that was it. In an introspective moment, Mayako had come to that conclusion. Emma was emotionally broken, and in that state, she was trying to make rational decisions, but as rationality was entirely relative, so could Emma's idea of a rational decision be warped by a tormented heart.

And while that regrettably meant she was bound to be more unpredictable than anyone else Mayako might ever meet in the future, Mayako felt a little calmed by the conclusion--and even more calmed when she finally looked up to Urikuse's face, and saw a reminder of sincerity that she missed so dearly.

"I-- I think I-I'll wait f-for . . . for Mrs. Tsukimono to come back," Mayako whispered, determined yet fragile, "A-and i-if-- if she d-didn't find her, I-- I'll g-go a-and look again on my own . . ."

It was a declaration that she would worry, but she wouldn't worry herself to death--not yet, at least. In fact, she'd have hope that Rebbecca would come back with Emma, or else Mayako would go out on her own to search for Emma at night. Looking around for someone at night in Hillcrest was almost an impossible task, but crazier things had happened around here.

It was another half-hour of waiting before Rebbecca returned. More than anything, Fenix hated waiting, especially while inside; it reminded him too much of his childhood. Trapped indoors, unable to leave, doing anything he could think of take the edge off the painfully slow passage of time. More painful, though, was watching Mayako...the uneasiness he felt was nothing compared to what she was going through.

"Well...?" Urikuse asked, greeting his wife in the hallway, who was hunched over, out of breath. Though waiting in Fenix's room, he and Mayako would easily be able to hear through the open door.

"Nobody's seen her, I'm afraid, but..." She looked up, and smiled hopefully. "A lot of the neighbors are going out to look for her--they're organizing a search as we speak." Whether it was due to the impression Emma had made herself, or simply respect for her brothers (both the literal and metaphoric one), not many people were willing to let the young girl remain missing any longer than she had to be.

A search party . . .

Mayako was clearly anxious. She'd been holding back the urge to cry since the first time, back at the Vaerbond ranch. It was increasingly difficult to keep that up, now that Rebbecca Tsukimono had come back in order to deliver the bad news. It wasn't the worst possible news; that would have entailed something unspeakable, unthinkable even, but it was close enough to that to make Mayako exceedingly nervous. She was sitting on the bed next to Fenix's, her hands gripping the side of the mattress on which she sat. She was biting her lower lip, perhaps as a means of holding back the urge to scream or cry. To scream . . . weird. She had that urge recently, too, and actually gave into it. Maybe that was just her way of finally letting out her frustration, screaming and crying. It was extremely childish, but considering the fact that the moment a few days ago was the first time in years . . .

Nonetheless, she was visibly anxious-- and not just to cry. The second she heard Mrs. Tsukimono talk about a search party, she practically wanted to throw her shoes on and run outside. Really, she hadn't the slightest clue why she was even holding back from that.

A search party. Yes, that was a good start. For once, Fenix was glad that he was in a small village rather than a city; he doubted in a larger community you'd find enough people who cared to form a search party.

Not that the news did much to ease his nerves, let alone Mayako's. She was still visibly agitated, and he was certain that if she didn't do something to relieve it she'd go a bit crazy.

"Go," he said. "You're not going to relax otherwise, and I can survive without you for a night."

He planned to go look as well, but if he told her that she'd insist on going with him, and that would just slow her down. Besides, with crutches he was perfectly capable of getting around himself, so long as he stuck to relatively flat ground.