In the morning as I woke Sana, he was so tired that his eyes fluttered closed a few seconds after rousing. There was a weakness in his grip. My mom checked him over, and his vitals were fine. Still, I was uncomfortable, and called Yokohara-sensei. She assured us again that if his symptoms persisted for more than twenty-four hours then it could be a problem, but we should wait and see. She reminded me that we'd be seeing her again tomorrow afternoon to get some test results, so if his symptoms persisted, then we'd be in her office. It was a little relieving, but I was still worrying.

My mom and I got him to the couch, and he was wrapped in a blanket, nestled in pillows and soft things. He was still wearing his pajamas, which were comfortable for him and not too hot. I didn't want to change his clothes, because it might make him more tired. My mom agreed. I got him to drink some Pedialyte and eat some crackers, and my mom monitored his blood sugar for a little while after to make sure it wasn't affecting him badly. He tolerated it okay, and after a while we settled down.

During my breakfast as I sat in front of him on the floor, leaned against the couch, I received a phone call.

"Hey, we're at your house. I let everyone in and we're warming up. When are you coming?"

Yami. I smacked my head and kept my hand there. After worrying so much about Sana this morning, I'd forgotten the time. I checked it on my watch, and it was already past ten. My head craned back, seeing Sana there sleeping. There was no way we'd be able to practice today. Something inside had resolve, a knowing.

I let out a sigh, but there weren't any sad feelings. I didn't feel much about it at all, which surprised me. Just this comforting knowing.

"We can't come today. Sana is pretty tired. He's asleep on the couch in his pajamas." I stirred around my miso soup slowly with my spoon, absentmindedly doing this even though I was watching it.

"Oh- oh." Yami seemed surprised, but he wasn't upset. "Is he okay? I mean, should we come over there? Do you need help?"

One of the guitars in the background blinked out when he said that. I recognized the part. He'd obviously caught Nobu's attention with that. It was confirmed a second later.

"Put him on speaker phone. What's going on?" Nobu ordered, but gently.

The sounds in the room changed, and I knew I was on speaker. Strangely, I found myself smiling. Their concern must have been doing it. My spoon made light metallic sounds on the bottom of my bowl as I continued drawing it in a circle.

"He's okay," I said. "We talked to Yokohara-sensei-"

"You talked to Yokohara-sensei?!" Panic in Yami's voice.

"Shh, let him talk," Nobu scolded him. All music had stopped, and I could only assume that the rest of Lyra was now gathered around the phone.

I smiled more. Sana's friends, caring so much for him. All this concern. My eyes traveled to him again as he slept gorgeously on the couch, like a King, wrapped in so many warm, plush blankets. I nodded. "He's fine. We were going to see her tomorrow anyway, when we go to Tokyo for final preparations for the tour. We're going to get his medications for the tour and everything. She said if he's still overly tired, then she'll look him over. She said it's probably his body working hard on something temporary, or maybe he's tired from practicing so much, just like last week."

With pause, Nobu responded again. "Mm-hmm, I see. Well, that's a pattern, isn't it? I've been paying attention. He's been practicing for about three days again." Everyone was quiet as he finally paused, probably thinking. He cleared his throat quietly. "Well, we're lucky, because there's three shows that we're involved with in this nationwide tour, right? Let him do the three shows, and see if he's exhausted like this again. If he is, then we know there's a pattern absolutely, and we can then hopefully better predict his exhaustion."

He was brilliant. My smile turned into a grin. "That's genius. Thank you for keeping track."

"It's nothing. We'll all keep track. For today, let him rest. I guess we can all pack up here and go do what we need to."

I was grateful. I wanted to show my thanks, but couldn't think of anything big enough. I bowed my head a little, even though they couldn't see it. "Thank you. I'll make sure he rests. Please take care of yourselves."

A chorus of voices answered me, and it gave me such a warm feeling. They were all saying good-bye and thanking me for taking care of him, too. I said good-bye to all of them, and hung up, feeling much better than I had before.

In the quiet, my mom was knitting. The soft clacking of her needles was a steady rhythm. I was reading comments from Lyra's fan forum on my phone. It seemed that there was a troll in their midst, and everyone was talking about them. Some angry newcomer, barking at everybody. It was a small community despite everything, so this one person had a big impact. There was a new thread that was wondering how this person could be removed so that tranquility could come back to their space. I wanted to see what the troll was doing. Overwhelming love filled my heart for all Lyra fans, and I knew that a lot of my fans were in there now, too. An overprotective feeling was coming about. It was only happening in the Japanese speaking threads, so I assumed the newcomer must be Japanese. That was even more distressing.

There was a name for this newcomer, and I decided to look up their posts: Sigma Draconis.

I was much too into this when my mom started talking.

"I think we should tell your papa tonight after dinner."

Sigma Draconis. There he was, yelling at people who were criticizing Sana's old costume choices, defending their skimpiness. What's wrong with being sexy? Why can't he be sexy? You're just jealous. Shut up. This person. Damn right.

"I'll invite your sisters over. We'll confront him. I think I'll make him some steak, so he'll be happy and less disagreeable."

There he was again, defending Sana's tattoos. Some fans were saying the tattoos were gross and didn't match Sana's overwhelmingly sweet and innocent image, his "visual kei persona" as they put it. They thought the choice was dumb, and that if he wanted to keep that image then he needed to have clear skin and not look like a "bad boy". Sigma Draconis told them they were petty children and that they needed to grow up, and that tattoos don't mean you're a bad person. I was nodding along with him, my lips pressed together.

"Good, so you agree. I'll call them right now. You're leaving tomorrow, so it's best to do it tonight. It might be our last chance for a while. Do you need to pack? Do you have things here that you need for the tour? I'll pack up Sana-chan's nebulizer, so you can use it on the tour."

My head whipped up at Sana's name. "Huh, what?" Sigma Draconis had been wrecking a thread which criticized the fact that Sana doesn't sing in a heavy metal style even though some of their music followed that line.

My mom gave a fake exasperated sigh, but she was smiling. "Did you hear me?" She put down her knitting on her lap.

"I'm sorry, I didn't. Did you say something about Sana?" A light blush appeared on my cheeks. How long had she been talking?

"Yes. I said I was going to pack his nebulizer away so you can have it on the tour. Did you hear what I said about your papa?"

"Oh, thank you so much." I let out my breath in relief. I knew she'd be able to pack it away properly, unlike me. "I didn't hear what you said about papa. What did you say?"

She nodded slowly, still smiling, understanding and patient. "I said I think we should tell your papa tonight about your intent to wear a wedding dress. Everything about it, about yourself. If you're comfortable. It might be a while before we get another chance. I can invite your sisters over to help him understand. It seems like Natsuko in particular is educated on the subject, she told me. So, I thought it would be a good idea. If that's what you wanted to do."

As she was speaking, I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My fists clenched slowly as I took in the gravity of her words. My eyes began to stare into nothing. A gathering storm was in my stomach, as the gravity hit me like a hand folding over my whole body.

"I can see that isn't what you want to do," my mom went on. "Just from your reaction. Do you want to wait on it? I can go make some lunch. You'll never guess. My tomatoes are ready."

I looked up at her, my mouth parted a little. She'd changed the subject so quickly, and now she was beaming with pride. She'd changed the subject like it was nothing, but I knew she knew it was far from nothing. She was acting casually, I appreciated that. Judging how uncomfortable I was, and treating it like it was no big deal.

"Your tomatoes are ready?" I breathed, steadying myself. The stress had been too much, though brief. The idea of this confrontation between my papa and everyone, his real opinion finally being heard. How much had they been aware? My mom had told me that my papa had told her his opinion in the past. What was his opinion?

Suddenly, I didn't want to wait. My stomach squeezed, and I let out a small sound in it, too much of an overwhelming nervousness.

She nodded, still seeing me. Her face softened, this warm and kind look that I knew so well. She often wore it when I needed to talk, showing me that I could confide in her, no matter what it was.

She patted the arm of her chair in thought. "Let me cut some up. We can eat some, and you can tell me how they are. I'm eager to know. We can keep talking, if you like." Careful, but effective. We'd keep talking, and she knew my intent already, no need to say a word.

My head turned, checking on Sana. He was sleeping into the afternoon, and he'd have to eat lunch. Maybe he could eat some of a tomato later, and tell my mom what he thought, too. His opinion on food was valuable to her, and she'd deeply appreciate it. At this thought, I found a slight smile on my lips where I thought it would be impossible.

I turned back to her, and still smiling. I nodded, confirming that what she'd said was right. She met this smile, and got up. As I watched her go, the squeezing feeling inside left a little at her comforting figure leaving the room, knowing she'd take care of me no matter what.

Just a little bit of the fear was leaving. Not as much as I'd have liked, but it was dissipating. I breathed out a sigh of relief.