It was a horrible feeling, this. Stay with the person she was pretty much tasked to take care of, or go look for her depressed and suicidal best friend? It was like weighing out two very important duties. Fenix, perhaps, had plans to go out, too--but Mayako couldn't see that. She was blinded by her own concerns; she couldn't even begin to think about another person's psychology or try and look past another person's poker face. In truth, she wanted more than anything to still be out there, looking for her friend. She knew deep down inside that Fenix would be okay alone for the time being, and that temporarily abandoning her duty as a nurse, even though she wasn't an official nurse at all, would be completely fine under these circumstances.

She couldn't argue against it anymore.

Mayako gave him one questioning look-- a look that begged for one last reassurance, before she did just as Fenix told her to.

Provided that, she would be out quickly; Fenix would hear her voice in the hall, muffled by her outbreak of meekness, informing the Tsukimonos that she was going to join the search party-- after which she'd slip on her shoes by the door and quickly leave the clinic.

Fenix gave one final nod to her and then watched as she sped out the door, startling the Tsukimonos not so much by the decision itself but by her unusual haste and (relative) forcefullness. Ordinarily she probably would have asked them first, but they hardly had time to acknowledge that she was leaving before she was gone.

"Actually, I think I'll go out too," Rebbecca said after a few minutes. "Think you can handle things here?"

"I think I'll manage," Urikuse replied dryly. It was a slow night, but someone needed to stay and keep an eye on things just in case--as well as be there in case Emma returned.

Five minutes after he heard Rebbecca leave, Fenix took his crutches in hand once more and rose out of bed. He tried to be as quiet as was reasonable for his condition, but it turned out to be a futile exercise as the second he hobbled into the wall Urikuse Tsukimono was standing there as though he'd been waiting for him. "And where do you think you're going in your condition?" he asked.

"My body might be weak," Fenix retorted, "but my eyes work just fine, and every extra pair helps, right? I won't go far, just keep an eye out around the village."

There were several intense moments as they remained deadlocked in a staring contest, one that might have gone on indefinitely if it weren't for a small bell ringing, signaling that one of the patients needed help.

"Fine," the doctor relented with a sigh, "but if you end up being carried in here I'm strapping you to your bed and for the next week you'll be eating my cooking instead of Mayako's."

"Then I'll make sure I come back on my own four feet," Fenix deadpanned in return as Urikuse went to check on his patient, leaving the way to the door open.

Stepping into the cool night air, his first action was to look around for the search party--if the female doctor or Mayako saw him out there, chances were they'd drag him back to the clinic. The search party was to be avoided.

Besides, he figured they would be searching the woods, and while that was the easiest place Emma might hide, he recalled one other spot that would make a perfect hiding place, especially if one wasn't concerned about personal safety.

So, slowly but steadily, he began to hobble towards the ruined church...

At the church, Fenix would discover that it was still very abandoned. However, were he to look inside, he'd find that the abandonment was only an external issue. Inside, there were signs of life-- life that was no longer there, but life that was very well there some time ago. There were recently broken bottles and what looked like the remains of a campfire. That, however, was long since a smoldering remain. It must've been burnt out several nights ago. Nonetheless, there were recent additions of canned foods, water, and what looked like pill bottles.

To say that there was no sign of Emma Vaerbond was to tell a bit of a lie. This place was where she finally acknowledged how mad the world really was. This place was where she got those scars that served as a constant reminder of that very fact. Of course she had returned here.

But some time ago, perhaps hours, perhaps half a day, she left here. Where else she could possibly be was anyone's guess. At that point, everyone had checked the most obvious places to their acute knowledge. There weren't many places in Hillcrest left to check anymore.

She was here. Emma hadn't been missing for very long, so it couldn't all have been from her--some of it had to be from some other squatter, probably one that drank a lot judging by all the bottles--but the pill bottle suggested a patient at the clinic, which meant Emma.

Unfortunately, she was here no longer; perhaps she knew someone would check here sooner or later, or perhaps she was just keeping on the move. Checking the ground around the operable windows, he discovered something else--footprints, one set in particular that led into the woods.

Now he had a decision to make. It would be difficult going by himself if he decided to follow them, and he wasn't the most able person at the moment. Even if he found her, there was no guarantee he could do anything. But on the other hand, if he went and found someone he'd be sent back to the clinic for sure, and he wasn't certain that anyone in the village would be able to follow the tracks without losing them. And if they were recent, the trail might be cold by then.

Fenix Black, treasure hunter. Reduced to being hindered by some light woods. He would definitely be grateful once he fully recovered, but he wasn't going to just lay down until then if there was something to be done. With a sigh, he followed the trail; as long as the ground remained relatively level, he figured he'd be alright.

It was around the time that Fenix decided to try and follow the trail of footprints that he'd hear something--or, rather, someone.

"M-Mister Black?" a voice called from the distance.

She was near the bottom of the hill on which the church sat, and though it took her a moment to climb it, it'd have taken Fenix three times that long to get away--if getting away was really what he wanted to do. Why would he, though? Mayako Takamine had already been through enough.

The girl was panting by the time she reached Fenix. She was tired by this point, and every muscle on her body ached. She'd been out practically all day, rarely having a moment to sit down, and now that she might have been able to get such a moment, she refused to partake; she was determined to find her friend, and hopeful that she was okay when she was found. Her body's need to rest had to go on the back burner.

Though she was panting and practically collapsed before Fenix, Mayako still addressed him in halfhearted scolding; on any other day, she'd have been comically strict (feeling as if she was stern, while no one else could possibly watch and not chuckle), but now she was reduced to a subtle suggestion of concern; "Wh-what are you doing out a-all alone? Y-you know y-you're not supposed to . . ."

Dammit. Fenix sighed again as Mayako ran up to him, and he resisted the urge to scold her for pointlessly exhausting herself. He didn't bother trying to get away; no matter how physically weak the girl was, he was still far weaker at the moment.

"...I can't just sit around and do nothing." In the end, that was all there was to it; though he might have been physically crippled, he wasn't completely immobilized, and so he could still lend his aid. He might not have liked Emma that much, but he did like Mayako, and he didn't want to see her upset; plus, he felt like he owed the whole village. Had he been awake prior to this, he might have been able to help with some of the crises they faced.

"Anyway, don't worry about me; look." With one of his crutches he pointed at the tracks; it was too dark for him to tell the size (and he was afraid that if he got down close enough to tell he wouldn't be able to get back up on his own), but they led away from the church, and they couldn't have been that old.

"Could be her; they lead into the woods."

"R-really . . .?" Mayako asked in shock.

Fenix going out and searching on his own was almost immediately forgiven. She wasn't going to chastise him for finding what could be a useful clue in finding Emma. Mayako slid by him and checked the footprints. Indeed, they lead into the forest. Without a thought, she went the other way, as if to return to the clinic and report the news, but then stopped for a moment, furrowed her brow, and thought about it for a long, long time. If she went off and told someone about this, Emma could be gone by the time she started back on the trail.

Mayako turned back around to face Fenix and looked to him questioningly. She didn't know what to do. She'd two instincts, one to tell Urikuse and, hopefully, Rebbecca--and another to just follow the footprints on her own, as fast as she possibly could. If she did this, Fenix wasn't coming with; she was going to send him to the clinic for everyone's sake. Mayako was going to run; later, she might feel bad for thinking it, but she couldn't be held back by someone who might not keep up with her.

Though, she might not set out so soon . . .

Calamity soon befell the countryside.

Mayako would take no notice of it; she was prepared and ready to head out. Fenix, on the other hand, would see it: over Mayako's shoulder, out of her sight, behind her, way off in the distance-- a flash of red, followed in short by a brilliant yellow dance, partly illuminating the distance like something of a large torch.

A . . . large torch . . .

Fenix was grateful for Mayako's reaction, though he might have been less so if he knew she planned to send him back to the clinic anyway. Of course, he'd have probably just promised to head back and follow anyway.

He was even about to suggest she go on ahead (being much faster without needing to watch him) when he spotted something back towards the village. Light...too large to just be the torch of a villager...

"Mayako, back to the village, hurry!" Fenix suddenly said urgently, still staring over her shoulder. He'd follow behind her as quickly as he could, but she needed to move well ahead of him.

Though he hoped it was, he had little faith that the fire was just a coincidence.

"Wh-what?" Mayako reacted quickly, but clearly intimidated, as Fenix's declaration came with haste and practically some degree of panic.

She turned hastily, only to see the same bright orange that Fenix did. Mayako hesitated for a long moment. Something told her that she shouldn't pursue this. Something told her that it was for the best to just turn a blind eye and follow the footprints still.

But she didn't listen to that voice. Instead, after Fenix had already started forward without her, Mayako took one step forward, a slow progression, one foot in front of the other, until at long last she broke into a run, to pass Fenix quickly, and progress as fast as she could towards the ever growing orange glow . . .



It was a farmhouse--one abandoned months ago, when the owners were run out of Hillcrest for not having the money for their property taxes. By the time Mayako reached it, likely with Fenix to reach it as well just a minute later, it was already engulfed. Flames licked every inch of it, a once blue farmhouse with as few imperfections of ancients' statues, now sufficiently covered head to toe.

No one was in there--no one could be in there--they'd moved away months ago! But-- but why? How? Mayako did not get too close; she stayed as far as the grown over cornfield, just a hundred feet from the engulfed farm house, her face contorted to one of shocked confusion.

Fenix stood stoically silent for several seconds after he arrived. The farmhouse was already completely engulfed in flames; at the very least, it didn't seem like there was anyone inside. He hoped there wasn't anyway; there was no chance of anyone escaping that blaze now.

But as much as he didn't want to say anything, he knew he had to. They couldn't just stare. "...In only a few minutes it was completely engulfed. This couldn't have been an accident." He didn't outright voice his suspicion, but the implication was clear.

"Let's keep looking." He'd pegged her wrong all along; suicidal he could see, but this wasn't something he'd foreseen.

The overgrowth and disarray of the farm would tell Fenix enough that there was no one in the building. Mayako almost talked about it, but she couldn't find a voice in her throat with which to speak. What began as a missing suicidal girl was descending quickly into pure unadulterated chaos. Mayako could vaguely hear the sounds of a search party in the distance; they must have seen what Mayako and Fenix saw, and were coming to investigate accordingly. They were still a ways away, though.

Where to keep searching, though? Should they have linked up with the search party and stuck with them, maybe split up into group to check every abandoned house in the village? Or--

Mayako saw the shadows of them first. She furrowed her brow in thought as she took a step forward, to leave the overgrowth and step out into the warm clearing just before the house. She was right. She had seen something; clear as day, it was, the shadows of footprints upon the earth, with a dots in the earth every second or third step, a small circular imprint to the prints' right.

All it took was a moment of checking direction to realize where they were headed.

". . . . do you . . . d-do you think . . .?" Mayako whispered; she needn't finish the sentence, and she hadn't the heart to anyways--Fenix would know exactly what she was thinking, and with the indication that the footprints left for them, exactly where to go . . .

Fenix followed Mayako's gaze; there were more footprints, these ones very recently made. There was a small circular indent every few feet, as though the culprit was using a crutch, which wasn't impossible. Either that or it was simply an attempt to throw off pursuit. But since they spotted the trail before anyone else arrived, it did little good.

And the direction they were headed, if he recalled correctly, was none other than Emma's home, where they'd looked earlier. Too early, it seemed.

"To sever ties with the past...?" he murmured under his breath, before turning to Mayako. "Go. I'll follow as quick as I can. And don't argue," he added, in case she still planned to object to him being out.

She didn't protest in the least; once Fenix told her to go, Mayako was gone; she'd broken into a run as fast as she could, nearly tumbled upon a stone, but didn't let such a minor problem slow her down. She stumbled but recovered quickly.

Mayako slowed to a stop only when she was close.

The fire was just started; she could see it beginning in the window of Emma's room, where flames now kissed the ceiling and danced in painfully warm rhythm through broken windows. Mayako could see the silhouette of Emma Vaerbond before it, her backed turned and the girl clad in a white sleeveless long coat, devoid of bandages upon her face, wrists, and arms, and carrying a wooden sword in her left hand. Mayako could say nothing. For the longest time, she could only stand still, eyes wide, lips agape, and attention focused solely upon the burning building before her. It took Mayako nearly a full minute to finally come to terms with what was happening.

"Emma!" she exclaimed without further thought, "Wh-what are you doing?!"

Perhaps Emma Vaerbond hadn't realized that Mayako was close by. She turned slowly, but mostly with her shoulders and head. She regarded Mayako with a half-way glance; a show of the right side of her face, narrowed eyes, and the prominent tallies across her cheek, all which now looked more like the outlines of an ear to ear toothy smile, though, in reality, her lips were not curled into a smile in the slightest.

Emma said nothing.

Mayako nearly felt her heart break every time she saw those scars, now and even before it. They were . . . menacing, frightening in fact--now more than ever. Illuminated by the orange glow of the quickly consumed ranch house, those scars made Emma look like something of a monster--something like . . . a vigilante gone all wrong, or perhaps even the damaged face of a man whose dedication to justice became something of sick obsession--

Or, perhaps, she was the remnants of that man's influence, one that splayed itself upon the girl's face, and let the fires of Hell portray her as demonized as the violent few before her.

Her legs may have wanted to collapse, but Mayako forced herself to take a step forward. She spoke as she moved forward, but she was only able to take a few steps forward before her harshly beating heart and the heat of a quickly consumed building got to her. "Emma . . . y-you . . . you need to stop."

Slowly, Emma turned from the building. Her eyes were shut and her lips curled into a frown. Her head was arced down and her hair was in her face--but only one side of her face. While one girl they once knew tried to hide her scars with her bangs, Emma did not. It was her own humanity that she concealed, leaving only the right side of her face to be seen, the scarred side--

"Sorry," was the first word she spoke.

Mayako furrowed her brow, but replied too late, "W--"

Emma looked up, leveled her eyes with Mayako's, and interrupted: "Can't do that."

Mayako could maintain eye contact no longer; Emma took a step forward, to brush her shoulder into Mayako's and nearly knock the girl over. She stepped back to catch herself, but never once took her eyes off of the new orange glow, the one that now overtook the Vaerbond ranch house . . .

Mayako Takamine, ready to collapse at the sight of the Vaerbond ranch's burning, and Emma Vaerbond, walking away with her wooden sword jabbed into the earth with each second step-- this was the scene Fenix would arrive to find.

As he feared, the place was already on fire; but at least he knew Emma's house was also empty. Briefly he wondered if she simply wanted to get rid of abandoned houses, but then she'd brushed by Mayako...and in the direction she was heading...

He hobbled as quickly as he could, cutting her off before she could pass him as well. Not that he was much of an obstacle at the moment, but she'd be forced to acknowledge him at least.

"So...a rundown farmhouse and your empty home. A firebug in the making...but do you really intend to torch the clinic as well?" he asked, loud enough that Mayako would be able to hear.

Emma stopped when Fenix put himself in her way. She was just two feet past Mayako, with Fenix several feet ahead of her--and yet, in the dark of night, with the orange illumination so vibrant behind her, Emma's appearance was changed even more. The strength of the shadows on her face were amplified by the fire; the scars on her face, in the shadows, taking the image of teeth-- teeth, where skin might have not existed, outlines of teeth in the jaw from the middle of her lips to ear. With a cold stare in her half-open eyes and a subtle glow to the dull green that remained in them, Emma Vaerbond looked . . .

Dead.

Dead, but moving. Reanimated.

"That's the idea," she replied without the slightest change of tone, not even the mildest cursory glance at conscience or regret--just a raw, stated fact, unemotional, undaunted, and unabashed. Hers was the voice of progress, the one adopted by science and medicine every step of the way.

Mayako couldn't accept that. Almost immediately horrified by the thought, she turned to Emma, who faced her back to Mayako and her front to Fenix, and almost reached for her. What would she have done, though? Grabbed her by the shoulder? Tried to hug her? Tried to throw her down?

In the end, she did nothing at all, nothing but speak: "Y-you-- you can't mean that . . ."

"I can't?" Emma asked without skipping a beat.

"N-no, you can't! D-do you know how many people you'd hurt . . . ?" Mayako's voice was both pleading and a voice of reason-- rationality without courage.

It was common sense to Mayako. She knew it was wrong to hurt people, especially when they didn't deserve it, but somehow, someway, Emma didn't get that. Somehow, she was actually serious about this. This pause stemmed only from her cornered state; Fenix in front of her, Mayako behind her . . .

"We all die someday," Emma replied, only the barest hint of philosophy in her voice, "That's just the way of world, isn't it? And it's only tragic while we're young. I die, you die, he dies--we're so young, someone out there'll weep for weeks. But my dad? My dad was ancient. Who cried for him? Me, because I'm young and stupid. Everyone else said he lived a good life. Which is funny, because he didn't. It's just one big hypocrisy, really. Old or young, dead is dead."

So much of that, Mayako could refute--but she'd so little time, and it wasn't important immediately that she changed Emma's mind than it was that she calmed her down. That, in turn, might change her mind, Mayako felt. And so, she replied:

"Th-that's not true! Y-your dad was happy! He had you and Sarah and Remmy--he was happy when he was with you!"

Emma, however, responded with little thought; it was all things she'd given a month or two of thought, and had nothing less than a steeled philosophy for. "My dad had arthritis in almost every joint of his body, two diseases that don't even have names, and he never saw a year without personal tragedy."

Mayako recoiled as if she'd just taken a blow. She couldn't refute that point. It was true, at least on the surface.

"My dad was just great at fake happiness. Now, he has real happiness," Emma continued, "And that's because he's dead."

But then, her voice trailed into something else--something much more genuine, not philosophy, not anger, hate, or loathing, but something scarier-- madness. Pure underlying madness, uttered with a pause between each word as she lifted her eyes to the sky.

"In every way, now . . ."