oh no, now go / walk out the door / just turn around now, cause you ain't welcome anymore
weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?
you think i'd crumble? you think i'd lay down and die? oh, no, not i— i will survive!
oh, as long as i know how to love i know i'm still alive
i've got all my life to life, and i've got all my love to give / i will survive / i will survive!

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Phoenix was sitting in one of his dorm room's bean bag chairs when someone burst through his door.

"Nick! You're not doing anything important, are you? Because—"

Ema stopped, tilting her head. Phoenix had his brow furrowed in concentration. He was leaning in close to the sketchbook in his lap, pressing down far too hard on his pencil.

"...Nick? You okay?"

He threw the sketchbook down.

"I HATE FEET."

Ema laughed. She'd known Phoenix long enough to know what he'd meant by the outburst.

"They're giving you trouble again? You should set it aside for a while. You'll be able to tell what's bothering you about it if you forget what it looks like."

"I will gladly put it away," Phoenix groaned. He leaned back in his seat and looked at Ema, wincing and stretching out his aching neck. "God, that was awful. I feel like I've been through hell."

"Oh?" Ema grinned. "The layers of hell, you say? Where's Virgil?"

"Oh, shut up. ...You asked if I was busy, right? Is it something important?"

Ema perked up.

"Ah, right. ...Well, we're not starting our viewing party until Maya gets back, right?"

"Right. She's bringing those 'rare' DVDs."

Maya had gone back to Kurain for Winter Break. Phoenix and his friends wouldn't start the party without her. She was supposed to show up with presents, the DVD collection, and, most importantly, Pearl.

Ema nodded.

"See, Miles is at the store. I wanted to try and get everybody here together for breakfast, but he said Uncle Ray needed help taking down the Christmas stuff. I thought maybe we could go lend them a hand? Maybe that way he'd get done in time."

Phoenix sat up straight. Maya wouldn't mind them getting breakfast without her, right? She'd encourage it if it would score Phoenix some points with Miles.

"Works for me," Phoenix answered. "I'll text Maya. ...Actually, have you heard from her? She sounded excited when I was texting her last night, but I haven't heard from her since."

Ema shrugged.

"I haven't. She must be busy getting ready. ...Anyway, if you're coming, you'll have to wake Larry. How do you ignore that snoring?!"

Phoenix laughed and looked fondly at the pile of blankets that indicated his friend's sleeping body. The sound of his snoring was nearly deafening.

"You get used to it."

Ema, excited about the plan, announced that she would head back to her dorm to change and grab her presents for everyone. Just as she was about to leave, Phoenix called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. His expression gave her pause.

"...Something wrong?" she asked. Phoenix shook his head. He stood up and took a couple of steps towards her.

"I-I, uh..." he smiled, nervously, and messed with the errant strand of hair that always dangled on his forehead. "I owe you a major thanks, actually. Wanted to get it off my chest before I see Miles and forget."

Ema giggled at the way he made fun of himself (Phoenix DID have a habit of forgetting what he was going to say when he met Miles' eyes), but wondered what he was so anxious about.

"A thanks? Me? ...For what?"

"Well..." Phoenix looked down and blushed, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "L-Larry and I spent most of the break with my family. But he left for a while to talk to his mom, so I took my parents aside, alone, and I... I told them. Your pamphlets were really helpful."

Ema didn't catch his meaning right away.

"Told them? My pamphlets? You..." She was silent for a moment, and then her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She grabbed Phoenix's shoulders. "...You told them. You TOLD them!"

"Th-That's what I just said!"

"You came out?!"

Phoenix's blush darkened. The color rivaled that of the cheesy sweater that Iris had knit for him when they were a couple.

"I-If that's what you wanna call it, then... Yeah."

Ema, without warning, pulled Phoenix into a hug. He could feel her tremble, and she gripped him far tighter than was necessary and made a long, low noise of some kind. Phoenix felt his eyes go wide. He had definitely not expected such a strong reaction.

"I'm so proud of you," she cooed before releasing him. She clasped her hands and hopped in place. "So? How did it go?!"

"Well, like I said, the pamphlets helped a lot. I wouldn't have known how to explain it to them otherwise. They were... surprised, yeah, but they were pretty cool about it." He cringed. "I mean, my dad DID make a few of the expected, uh, cookware jokes, b-but nothing mean or dismissive. He was just... Well..."

"Dad jokes?" Ema guessed. Phoenix chuckled.

"Yeah. Dad jokes. ...Sometimes I think his favorite thing to do is embarrass me."

Ema laughed and congratulated him, and the two took a moment to smile and breathe a shared sigh of relief. After that, he allowed her to return to her own dorm. She shouted "see ya, space cowboy!" over her shoulder as she left. When she was gone, Phoenix turned to face Larry, who was still sound asleep.

Hopefully he wouldn't be too crabby when he woke.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Phoenix and his friends always went their separate ways for winter break, and usually for spring break as well. They all had homes and families of their own, after all, and it wasn't healthy for any group to spend every waking moment together. This meant that Phoenix hadn't seen Miles at all for around a week— they'd been communicating solely through text messages. And there shouldn't have been any pressure in this, but Phoenix felt it nonetheless.

Would Miles act differently towards them? They'd seen him just about every day for months. He felt a growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach as Larry's van got closer and closer to the bookstore that he now knew like the back of his hand.

As always, the drive was too short. Phoenix felt like he hadn't had time to adequately prepare himself, making the tiny bag in his hand feel like it weighed a ton. The store's newest employee was outside on a ladder, taking down all of the string lights. Phoenix guessed that the scene inside would be much the same.

Uncle Ray looked up from the counter when he heard the bell. He smiled, giving them his characteristic bow.

"Nice to see you kids again. It's been a while. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Larry gave him a lazy salute.

"We're here to help! We wanna take Edgey out for breakfast, but..." Larry looked around. "It's gonna take him forever at this rate."

Ray hummed knowingly.

"That it will. If you don't mind helping out, that'd be just great. Wait here a sec..." he walked to the door that led to the inventory room and pushed it open slightly. "Miles," he called. "Your friends are here." Miles half-shouted something that was mostly muffled by the door. Ray chuckled. "They swear they're here to help with the work. Don't be a grouch."

Ray stepped aside. Miles burst through the door and marched, determined, straight towards Phoenix, fixing him with a glare. Phoenix gulped. Seeing his face, after not seeing it for a week, was something like being re-awakened to it. Unfriendly expression or not, Phoenix had forgotten how blindingly handsome Miles was.

"Did I not tell you that I would be very busy?!" he asked. He only looked at Phoenix.

Why do you always assume I'm the one responsible?!

"Don't be like that, Edgey," Larry teased, throwing an arm around Miles' shoulder. "We're here to help!"

Miles grumbled something inaudible. At the pause in conversation, Ema gave Phoenix a gentle kick in the ankle. He sprang into action in a way that probably looked unnaturally timed.

From behind his back, he produced the red gift bag he'd been hiding. He hadn't wanted to go overboard and wrap it, but he'd still wanted it to resemble a present.

"I, uh, got you something. Nothing big or expensive! Just, uh... I didn't want you to be left out of our Christmas tradition."

"...Tradition?" Miles seemed to mull the word over as he carefully took the bag. He studied it, not looking inside.

"Yep!" Ema chirped. "It's a little tradition with Larry, Nick, Maya, and me, and sometimes Pearly. We each get each other one little present, twenty bucks or lower. That way, no one's left out, no one's jealous, and nobody goes broke."

"We didn't wanna force ya into it," Larry added, moving to stand beside Phoenix. "But, well. You know how this guy is." Larry accentuated the words "this guy" with a firm pat of his friend's head. Phoenix frowned at the feeling of his hair being smashed down.

"I do," Miles mumbled, like he was talking to himself. Phoenix swore he saw him smile, gentle and fleeting, for about a half-second.

Miles carefully opened the bag and let out a chuckle, something between surprise and embarrassment, when he saw the item inside. He lifted it out slowly, dangling it on one of his fingers.

"Hey!" Larry cheered. He pulled his keyring out of his pocket. "We'll match!"

Larry's keyring bore a chain with one of the Signal Samurai on it— the yellow one. Phoenix, rather sheepishly, held up his own, which bore the face of the blue Samurai.

Miles' present completed the trio. He slipped it onto his keyring as he grumbled his thanks, and afterwards he gave Phoenix his strange little bow. Phoenix realized, just then, that Miles had gotten his habit of bowing from Ray. Had Ray learned that from somewhere, too?

"So!" Larry clapped to reset the mood. Phoenix looked up and noted that the store's cheerful Christmas decor didn't match the dreary grey sky outside. "What do we do?"

"Ah." Miles cleared his throat. "Well, you can start by taking the ornaments off of the trees, and..."

Miles split everyone up, assigning each of them separate tasks. Phoenix sent Maya a text to explain what they were doing along with a goofy selfie of himself and Larry carrying boxes. He put his phone away as soon as he'd finished to focus on his duties.

Kay ran around dusting and taking down lights and wreaths. Larry, with his tall and gangly frame, stripped the trees bare. Phoenix organized the collected decor and took the boxes to the storage room, where Miles sorted them and put them away. Ema pried stickers from the windows and collected posters and tags. Ray dutifully watched the counter, giving his back a much-needed rest.

Together, everyone managed to de-Christmas the store in about thirty minutes. When the work was finished, they plopped down together on one of the couches in the seating area.

"...So?" Phoenix panted after about a minute of silence. "Now that we've gone and finished everything, will you come and get some breakfast with us?"

Miles instantly looked nervous. He pulled himself up to peer over the back of the sofa at his Uncle. Ray clapped his hands together almost giddily.

"Don't worry about it, Miles. I won't make you spend your last day on break minding the store. And you have your viewing party later, right?"

Miles' face flushed slightly.

"...Right."

Ray chuckled.

"It's settled, then! You can head out early. Thanks to your friends, Kay and I can easily handle the rest of today's work." Kay walked up to replace him behind the counter, and Ray wandered casually to the couch. He patted Miles' shoulder and smiled down at him. "Have fun, okay?"

With that, he tipped his hat in farewell and left, disappearing into one of the back rooms. He probably had paperwork to do, Phoenix guessed. Phoenix stood slowly, put his hands in his jean pockets, and faced Miles.

"There's a great diner between here and the school. Larry's gonna drive us there. ...If that's okay, I mean."

The trio smiled at their stiff-bodied friend as they waited for a response. None of them expressed how worried they were that he wouldn't want to get back into that van (for understandable reasons).

Miles thought for a long moment. Then, he nodded, managing an awkward (but very cute) little smile of his own.

"Alright," he agreed. "Let's go."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

When a group of people becomes accustomed to spending every day together, a separation of one week feels like a lifetime. It was why the first twenty minutes or so of the breakfast excursion were awkward.

Miles was the type of person who took his time warming up to others. He was also analytical, and tried to memorize people's expressions and body language. Phoenix could see him doing this as they chose a table and ordered their food. Miles was quiet, and he closely studied everyone, like he was trying to relearn how to read them.

At the same time, it seemed Miles would have to relearn how to let his guard down.

"So what'd you do over break, Edgey?" Larry asked as he cut up his sausage links with his fork. Miles watched, looking mildly concerned, as Larry mixed the greasy sausages into his even greasier hashbrowns. Miles had ordered turkey bacon, sunny-side up eggs, and a single slice of wheat toast. The contrast in the nutritional value of their meals was laughable.

"Not much of anything," he replied as he spread jam on his toast. "The store was open and rather busy most of the week, but we did close early on the twenty-fourth and stay closed for Christmas. Uncle Ray and I have certain traditions of our own... A small Christmas, yes, but more than sufficient."

"...Traditions, huh?" Ema smirked. "I'll bet you sit at that old piano and play Christmas songs while Uncle Ray cooks."

Miles frowned and took a furious bite of his bacon (he used a fork to eat that, too). It seemed Ema's guess had been correct.

"And what about the rest of you?" Miles asked. It was a shallow attempt to direct the conversation away from himself, but that didn't mean they'd leave the question unanswered.

"It was just my sister and I most of the break. We went ice skating like we used to, and then my aunts and uncles and cousins came up for Christmas dinner! I got a loooot of cash," Ema said cheerily.

"We had a pretty good time, too," Larry said. He patted Phoenix on the back. Miles raised an eyebrow.

"You spend your winter break together?"

Larry flinched, and his carefree grin threatened to waver. He recovered quickly— remarkably so. He was used to it— uncomfortably so.

"Yeah, 'course we do! We've been bros since we were in kindergarten. His family knows me."

"But what about your family?" Miles prodded, refusing to drop the subject. Phoenix didn't know if he should be worried for Larry or relieved that Miles had regained some of his confidence. "Surely they've missed you."

"I don't have a lot of family— not that I'm close with, anyway. I just drop by to see my mom a couple of times, and I'm good."

"If you say so," Miles mumbled, mostly to himself. Phoenix contemplated reminding Miles that he had little room to talk— his own 'family' was made up of two people (three if Franziska was included). But Phoenix kept the remark to himself.

They chatted, idly, throughout breakfast about family traditions and memories. Miles, surprisingly, talked a bit more about his father and how he'd been the one to first teach him to play the piano. Phoenix, in the meantime, sent Maya another text and another selfie.

Nickelodeon: Are you busy? I was expecting to get a morning update from you (not to bug you or anything). I'm having breakfast with the others. Call me when you get on the bus, okay?
Nickelodeon: (somebody is wearing jeans for once and he looks REALLY CUTE)
Nickelodeon: (kill me)

Phoenix found that Miles was looking strangely at him when he returned his gaze to the table. He feared that he was in trouble. Then Miles smirked.

"Texting at the dinner table, Wright? I thought you had more manners than that."

Phoenix froze. When he recovered, he forced a grin, feeling his ears heat up.

"It's a BREAKFAST table. Different rules."

"If you insist."

Miles returned his attention to his food. Larry and Ema exchanged a glance. Phoenix felt his phone buzz and peeked at it, expecting to have finally gotten a response from Maya. Instead, Ema and Larry had suddenly included him in a group text. He was shocked. How discreetly could they send messages? How quickly?!

Butt: Did he just
Science Skye: YEP
Science Skye: I'm like 98% sure he was hitting on you just now

Phoenix glared at his screen and ignored Miles' curious gaze. Miles' eyes were so sharp, so piercing, that one could often feel him looking without seeing it.

Nickelodeon: He was not! He was just teasing me
Butt: Right, teasing
Butt: Also known as flirting
Science Skye: WHY ARE U SO OBLIVIOUS
Nickelodeon: oh my GOD when did you two get worse than Maya

"Don't mind me," Miles suddenly said aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll just sit here and eat my breakfast in silence. It's fine."

Ema quickly slipped her phone back into her pocket. She focused her attention on Miles, who eyed her suspiciously.

"You're back!" she exclaimed. "You had me worried for a little while."

Miles blinked at her.

"What do you...?"

"Well, DUH— you're hardly even YOU if you don't say something snarky!"

Miles jolted and his eyes went wide. He lowered his head and focused on his plate in a futile effort to hide the redness of his face. Phoenix stifled a laugh.

Miles was back, alright. And Phoenix was glad to have him.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

After breakfast, Larry drove everyone back to Ivy University.

There was still one day left of winter break. The halls were mostly empty and quiet, and only the occasional professor walked in and out of the main school building. It would have been peaceful, but the dismal weather and Phoenix's dull concern for Maya made it creepy. He shook the feeling off.

They headed, as planned, straight to Miles' dorm. It was as immaculate as Phoenix had remembered it being.

"Maya should be here soon, yes?" Miles asked as he hung up his raincoat.

"Yep! Around one." Ema set a few bags underneath the coffee table. "I'm gonna wait until she gets here to give these out."

"Guess we'll do the same," Larry agreed with a shrug. His presents, along with those that Phoenix still had, joined Ema's, forming a decent-sized pile.

Everyone settled onto the couch. Miles put the channel on his favorite station, the one that played all the Samurai reruns. The new episode of Pink Princess wouldn't air until seven, but Maya was bringing a collection of movies for them to marathon until then that Pearl was very excited about.

"I got somethin' for Pearl, too," Larry confessed, gesturing at a small pink bag. "Maya accidentally told me what the movies are, so I found a plushie for Pearl. I'm not allowed to tell you guys."

"So I could find out what we're gonna watch if I just open the bag?" Phoenix teased, reaching forward. Larry slapped his hand down.

"Don't even think about it."

As soon as everyone had gotten comfortable, Phoenix pulled out his phone. He hadn't checked his messages in a while, as he'd gotten caught up in the fun of his breakfast outing and the car ride.

He'd gotten a response. He wasn't at all relieved to see it. Something about it was not right.

Mayo: I am very busy. All is well. Do not call me or send me any more messages.

"Is something wrong...?"

Phoenix looked up at Miles, whose brow had tightened in concern. For a moment, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"I... I don't know," he confessed. "Maya finally texted me back, but it's... weird."

Ema stood and snatched his phone from him. She squinted at the message as her mouth twisted into an unconscious frown.

"That's... not how she usually writes. And why wouldn't she say anything about where she is or what happened? She should've gotten on the bus, like, over an hour ago."

Larry's voice jutted into the conversation in the form of a low, disapproving hum. He was looking at his own phone.

"What is it?"

"She, uh, sent me the same message. ...Word for word, I mean."

Ema hurriedly pulled out her own phone. Her perplexed expression told everyone that she'd received the bizarre message as well.

"M... Maybe she had someone else send the messages for her," Miles suggested. He'd also gotten one of the texts.

"Yeah, maybe. Somethin' big must've come up, though," Larry muttered. He forced a grin. "Let's just not worry about it, alright? I'm sure she's fine!"

Phoenix nodded and tried to focus on the TV, reminding himself that Maya didn't like to worry people.

For nearly two hours, the four friends managed to maintain a superficial peace. Maya didn't send any more messages. She didn't call. Finally, Phoenix reached his limit. He stood with an annoyed groan and dialed her number. The other line rang only once before a robotic voice informed him that the person he was trying to reach was unavailable.

"Wha— She shut off her voicemail?!" Larry sputtered, shocked.

"Her phone must be on Do Not Disturb. It won't let me send her a text message," Ema said. She shoved her phone back into her pocket more forcefully than she needed to. Phoenix, meanwhile, tried to call once more and got the same results.

"Something's not right," Larry finally blurted out. "She should've gotten here over an hour ago!"

"I know that," Phoenix scoffed, pulling at his hair.

They had to do something. They had to, right? If something had happened to Maya, they had to find her and help her.

"We'll search the campus," Phoenix announced. Larry snorted.

"If she was on campus, she would've found us by now! Why—"

"We have to do something, right?!" Ema interrupted. She shared Phoenix's mindset.

Maya had to be somewhere on campus. If she wasn't, it would mean that she'd never left Kurain and that something had happened. Or, worse, that she'd gotten on the bus, and then something even worse had happened.

He couldn't accept or dwell on either of those possibilities. He wouldn't.

"...Miles."

"Hm?"

Miles, who had been oddly silent, looked quizzically up at Phoenix from his spot on the couch. Phoenix took a deep breath and puffed out his chest, feigning calm and confidence.

"You'll stay here and guard the dorm in case she shows up. Ema, you guard your dorm. Larry and I will split up and look for her." He shot Larry a look. "Got it?"

Larry sighed and stood up.

"Got it."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Larry and Phoenix decided to start with the men's dorms. Phoenix took the upper floors while Larry took the lower.

He ran throughout the building, and he stopped anyone he passed to ask if they had seen a short, thin girl with dark hair and purple robes. Each one was quite certain that they hadn't seen someone like that.

Phoenix finished checking his floors quickly. He sprinted to the largest of the campus' school buildings. There were certain rooms that Maya frequented. Maybe she was in the cafeteria? Or, perhaps, her sister's old office? There were too many possible locations.

He started with the cafeteria. The office was locked, as it now belonged to someone else. Most of the classrooms he tried seemed to be locked. He didn't have time to dwell on it. He continued running. Everything about the situation was unsettlingly strange. Maya never, ever cancelled on someone without calling. She was rarely more than ten minutes late to an outing with friends, as she so looked forward to them.

It was out of character. It didn't make any sense.

Phoenix felt his pace quicken until he was bolting down the hallways, shouting for Maya. He constantly redialed her number.

No answer.

"Maya—"

He crashed into someone as he rounded a corner. He was knocked onto the ground. He winced at the pain, but immediately moved to stand back up, offering a shouted "sorry" without bothering to look. He felt a hand grab his arm.

"I heard you shouting. Has something happened to Miss Fey?"

Phoenix turned and saw Professor Diego Armando, looking more distraught than he would have thought the man capable. It didn't suit his face. He gulped.

Yes, he was never sure how to feel about Armando. And yes, his attention made Maya nervous. But it was obvious that he cared for her, and it was possible that he would be more help than a bunch of kids running around.

"I'm not sure," Phoenix admitted. "She was supposed to meet us to marathon some movies and she didn't show up. She won't answer her phone and nobody knows where she is. A-And maybe we're overreacting, but I just—"

"You're not," Armando interrupted, furrowing his brow. "That isn't like her. When did you see her last? What time was she supposed to meet you?"

Armando had already started stomping down the hallway. Phoenix hurried after him, talking as fast as he could while out of breath.

"U-Uh, I haven't seen her in a week or so, but she was texting me up until last night. She was supposed to meet us as soon as she got back from Kurain. She was supposed to bring Pearls, too. We've been looking for her for half an hour, and that was after waiting in Miles' room for at least two hours—"

"And where are the others? Where have you searched?"

"We told Miles to guard his dorm in case she shows up, and Ema's keeping watch at theirs. Ema's calling for help to search the girls' dorm, and Larry's still checking the guys'. I was on my way to the neutral dorms. I just finished checking out her usual classrooms, but most of them are locked."

"Go and check the neutral dorms. I have keys. Where are you meeting when you've finished your searches?"

"Th-The pavilion near the entrance—"

Armando was gone before Phoenix could ask any questions. He heard his expensive shoes clattering against the tile, as if he, too, was running. Phoenix took only a moment to process the development before he regained his sense of purpose and ran out of the building.

He searched and searched, and knocked on doors and asked people if they had seen her. Most of the people in the building had never so much as heard of her. Some had seen her in the past (they'd said that it was hard to miss her) but hadn't in a long while. A few offered him use of their phones or expressed concern, but no one could offer any real help or clues to her whereabouts.

As he reached the outside of the building, he saw a figure approaching through the light rain. He squinted, and then his eyes widened in surprise.

"Iris?!"

She ran up to him, clearly out of breath.

"Ema texted me and asked if I had seen Maya," she explained through gasps of breath. "I called all of the people we've spent time with, and I helped search the girls' dorm, but still no sign of her."

"What do you mean, you helped search? Who else was with you?"

"Adrian," she answered, as if it should have been obvious. "And Franziska. They're still searching the top floors."

Phoenix was surprised and slightly confused, but didn't have time to be. He gestured at the school building, and noticed, dully, that the rain was already getting worse.

"We're supposed to wait near the entrance, under the pavilion," he explained. "Everyone's supposed to go there when they finish searching."

"O-Okay. Let's go."

Phoenix took off running again. Iris followed after him. Larry was already waiting in their designated meeting place and looking at his phone. His grim expression told Phoenix that he'd had no success.

"No luck?" Phoenix asked, already knowing the answer. Larry shook his head and angrily clicked his tongue. The fact that he hadn't thrown some corny line at Iris was evidence that he wasn't feeling like his usual self.

"Nope. Got plenty of guys asking if they get to take her out if they find her, though. Bunch of fu—"

"They're jerks, I know. But now's not the time to get mad about that, alright?"

Larry let out a long breath of air.

"Yeah," he relented. "You're right. ...We'll just, uh, wait for everybody else."

The trio didn't have to wait long.

Franziska and Adrian arrived at the same time, both looking very frustrated, and Ema followed tentatively behind them. Miles wandered out, wearing his raincoat, like he'd assumed they'd be searching outside. Armando arrived last. His features were set into a scowl.

"He volunteered to search the classrooms with his keys," Phoenix explained. Each of his friends had looked quizzically at him when Armando arrived. The professor in question shook his head.

"No sign of her. This isn't like her."

"...It's not," Phoenix said. Not that I have any idea how you know that, he added in his mind.

"S... S-So where do we search next?" Miles' voice was monotone, and his expression seemed distant. "Could she be... The store, maybe? Or—"

"Something must have happened in Kurain," Ema cried. "I-I don't know what, though. O-Or maybe something happened to her bus—"

"Do not talk like that!" Franziska snapped, glaring. "Do not speak such things into existence!"

"None of you have the numbers of anyone else in the village? She would've checked in with one of the elders, right?" Armando asked. He sounded annoyed.

"Of course not," Larry retorted angrily. "She's always got her phone on her and she tells us in advance if something comes up. She doesn't like to worry people, and besides, most of the elders don't even HAVE phones! You apparently know so much about her, and yet you don't even know that much?!"

Phoenix gulped.

A full-fledged argument was quickly brewing. Tensions were high. The rain got louder as everyone's voices rose. Phoenix wanted to scream at everyone to stop it, to remind them that Maya wouldn't want to see them fight. But his brain refused to work, like the gears in his head had grown rusty and would no longer turn.

Phoenix barely heard his phone ringing over the commotion. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and didn't recognize the number. He answered it anyway, assuming he'd have to tell off an ill-timed telemarketer.

"Who is it?!" Phoenix demanded. In the background, he heard pouring rain, rain even heavier than that around him, and what sounded like someone trying to speak. Then, a feeble voice.

"...Nick?"

Phoenix gasped, nearly jumping out of his skin.

"Maya! Is that you?! Jesus Christ, you scared me half to death!"

Everyone froze, shocked to hear those words, and then moved closer to his side, to the point that some were uncomfortably close. He put the phone on speaker and ushered the others to be quiet and step away from him. A hush fell over the area as they waited for Maya to speak again.

"We've all called you and texted you probably hundreds of times! Why didn't you answer your phone?!"

"I— I don't know where it is! Sh-She took it, she must've. Why did she take it? She didn't want me to... Did o-one of the detectives...?"

Maya seemed to be talking both to Phoenix and to herself. She sounded like she had a high-pitched case of the hiccups, but Phoenix knew the sound. He'd heard Maya cry before. He'd been her friend when her big sister had been killed, after all.

That said, Maya didn't cry often. She'd been forced to be strong for a long time. She'd only cried around him a few times, all related to the murder. If she was openly sobbing like this, then surely something terrible had happened.

"A-Alright, it's okay. We're not angry at you, Maya. ...S-Something happened, right? Why didn't you come into the city?!"

"I-I wanted to come, okay? You k-know that, right? ...I... I couldn't go. I-It was... A-Aunt Morgan. She—"

Maya's voice stopped. Phoenix frowned.

"...Well? What is it? Did she change her mind and say you couldn't come?"

"N-No!" Maya's voice was loud. "I-It's not that simple. I..."

Phoenix waited. Maya seemed to be trying to talk, but kept choking up just before telling him the truth.

"...So she grounded you or something? I know she's scary, but you're eighteen. You don't have to listen to her any—"

"N-No, Nick, you don't— you don't understand!" Her voice was a desperate screech. Phoenix glared and put a hand over his heart.

"Well, then HELP ME understand!" Phoenix cried. "Whatever it is, Maya, we all care about you! Just... Just please, tell us. We're worried sick over here."

Maya seemed to pause, and he heard her inhale a long breath.

"M-My Aunt..." Maya's voice started out calm, but she quickly lost that composure. "Aunt Morgan tried to kill me!"

Phoenix choked on his own breath. He didn't say anything. Several of his friends had immediate reactions, while others could only furrow their brows in confusion.

"Wh... WHAT?!"

No. No. No, no, no. That can't possibly be right, can it? Morgan wouldn't actually do that, would she?

Phoenix could barely process what he was hearing.

The Feys had already suffered from more than their share of bloodshed. They didn't deserve more. Maya Fey didn't deserve more. But this time, somehow, the curse that followed her clan like a shadow had set its sights on her.

Aunt Morgan had never been very nice. She'd never liked Phoenix very much, and she openly detested Larry and Ema. Pearl loved her mother, but Morgan wasn't always kind to her, either. She put an unbelievable amount of pressure on the girl and held her to ridiculous standards.

And Aunt Morgan had always, always been cruel to Maya. Phoenix suspected that it was simple jealousy. Morgan wasn't skilled enough to lead the clan. Maya was a prodigy.

Still, he'd never imagined— not in his wildest dreams— that Morgan would go so far.

"A-Are you sure?!" It felt like a stupid question, but he needed the confirmation. "It wasn't some misunderstanding—"

"O-Of course not! The police already took her away! I-I'm only alive because I managed to lock her in the room by herself... I-I still don't know what she did with my phone, but Scruffy's looking for it. H-How long has she been planning to...?"

Phoenix couldn't remember, at first, who "Scruffy" was. Then, he recalled the Blue Badger plush that Pearl slept with, the one that Maya said had been a gift from a detective. That detective had a goofy name that slipped Phoenix's mind, but he'd been involved with the Feys ever since Mia's death. He'd helped solve her murder and was apparently searching for leads about what had happened to Misty— their mother. She'd been missing for years. He stopped by Kurain whenever he was in the area, usually with candy and gifts.

"He's there? The detective? They've arrested Morgan?!"

"Th-They're gonna charge her with attempted murder. Th-They said she's done other things... Sh-She used to be nice! I don't know what happened!"

Phoenix heard a whine, and she did not elaborate. It was painful to hear her like this. It wasn't quite as painful as the knowledge that she had been suffering all this time and none of them had been there to help her.

"I... I'm so sorry. We got worried and split up and ran around looking for you, but we had no idea something like this was happening."

Maya's next words surprised him.

"H-How could I have let this happen?!" Maya shouted. Phoenix flinched.

"You?! It's not your fault at all! Morgan's the criminal here!"

"N-No, not..." Maya whined again. "It's Pearly. Pearly got hurt! Aunt Morgan hurt her, and there was nothing I could do! Sh-She... hit her head. There was s-so much blood, Nick, it was just like... Like...!"

Phoenix heard Ema gasp in horror, and heard his friends whispering amongst themselves, no doubt concerned for the girl.

Oh, no. Not Pearls, he thought. Please, god, not Pearls. She's too young. He willed his stomach to stop churning, willed his mind to stop conjuring grisly images. He had to believe, for now, that Pearl would be alright.

"Tell me what happened, Maya," he pled. "What happened to Pearls? Has she been seen by a Doctor?"

"Sh-She... Aunt Morgan came at me with a knife, and s-she was talking like she expected Pearly to help, but Pearly wouldn't let her do it. Aunt Morgan had me cornered, but Pearly grabbed her arm and bit her really hard. A-Aunt Morgan threw her, and she hit her head, and I just... I couldn't do anything in time!"

"Holy— You said she had a knife?! Are you okay, or did she get you?!" Phoenix wasn't sure which questions to ask in his panic. He couldn't get the image of Mia's bludgeoned corpse out of his mind. Were all Fey women destined for gruesome deaths?

"I-I..." Phoenix heard a shuffling that sounded like heavy fabric. He knew that Maya was checking for wounds, that she had forgotten her own injuries in the panic. "Sh-She got me... Nothing too bad. Th-The Doctor taped me up and said I should be fine. He has Pearly. ...Sh-She won't wake up, Nick. I shook her, and I sang her a song, and she still won't wake up!"

No one said anything for a long minute. Armando lowered his head solemnly. There was a deep rage behind his eyes. Larry clenched his fists, and Ema tugged too hard on her hair. Iris tried not to cry.

Surely, if there was a god, he couldn't be so cruel as to take Pearl, too, could he?

"She..." Phoenix swallowed to combat the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Pearls is going to be okay. She will be. You have to believe that."

"B-But she—"

"No, Maya, listen! You need to believe in her, okay?! Don't even think about anything else." Maya didn't answer as she contemplated his words. Phoenix took the silence as an opportunity to inform her of their next plans. "Anyway, just sit tight for a while. We're going down there."

Phoenix saw Larry and Ema nod as Maya made a surprised sound.

"That's— Y-You don't have to do that. Y-You guys don't have to come. The police are here, and... And I'm...!"

"You're NOT okay. You're not. I can hear that much in your voice. We're coming down there, okay? I'm gonna go to Kurain with Larry and Ema."

He thought, for a moment, of mentioning Miles, but the pianist was still somewhat new to the group. Phoenix didn't want to force him into any kind of stressful situation— not after what had happened on the roadside.

"I— I'm serious, Nick! You d-don't have to—"

"I know I don't HAVE to! Listen, Maya— we're coming whether you like it or not. So you... You just sit tight and focus on getting better, okay?! We'll see you in an hour or so!"

Phoenix hung up the phone before Maya could protest. All of his friends started talking at once. He ignored the majority of it.

"Larry," he shouted above the noise.

Larry knew what he meant. He fished his car keys out of his pockets and moved towards the parking lot. Before he could get anywhere, Professor Armando grabbed his arm. Larry glared at him and tried, with little success, to get away.

"What are you—"

"Give me your keys."

Larry scoffed indignantly.

"B— Did you not hear her?! We have to go! It's my car! Just because you're a professor doesn't mean you can just—"

"You misunderstand me," Armando barked. "I'll drive. I've been doing it longer than you have. You lot can give me directions to Kurain. ...I never did get a chance to visit."

Larry blinked, surprised, for a moment before he handed over his keys. He did so as if it was an unconscious reflex, without looking at them, and seemed surprised to see them twirling on Armando's finger as he marched towards the van. He really wasn't in any state to be driving.

"C'mon, Ema," Phoenix called as he moved to run after the pair. Miles shot ahead of him without waiting for an invitation, apparently deciding for himself that he was coming along, and it occurred to Phoenix just then that he had never seen the man run. Phoenix heard several other pairs of feet behind him, including the loud and clipped sound of stilettos against concrete.

"Slow down, you fool! It is difficult for ladies such as us to run in these heels and in this rain!"

He stopped and turned to see Franziska and Adrian. Adrian's heels seemed to be wedges, so she ran ahead of Phoenix easily. He saw her clamber into the van with Ema. He stared, wide-eyed, at Franziska.

"I-It's a long drive, you know," he stammered. Did Franziska really care so much? "You don't have to come if you don't want to—"

"But of course I'm coming! Did you not hear that phone call? What do you take me for?!" She glared at Phoenix. When his expression remained unchanged, her brow softened slightly. "I-I... owe Maya Fey a great deal. To do this much is only expected, is it not?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Her eyes flickered, in a way that nearly suggested tears, and she, too, ran past Phoenix.

Only one figure remained, standing alone. The girl kept looking back and forth between the school building and the parking lot. She seemed emotionally conflicted. Phoenix jogged in her direction.

"Iris," he called. She flinched like she'd been slapped. "You have to make your own decisions sometimes."

Her eyes went wide. Her expression was one of panic and confusion. She opened her mouth like she planned to say something, but quickly shut it, looking at the ground. Phoenix stepped towards her.

"...Dahlia will be very angry if I miss—"

"You have to weigh your priorities. Which would you rather have? Would you rather deal with Dahlia being pissed off, as usual, or with Maya knowing that you didn't care enough to come?"

Iris went silent. Then she squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head, and darted in the direction of Larry's van, leaving Phoenix standing by himself. She lost a shoe, but stopped only long enough to grab it before she continued running. Phoenix chased after her.

Franziska, Adrian, and Miles filled the van's back row. Phoenix was relieved to see that Miles hadn't been forced to take a window seat. Larry sat beside Armando in the front. He was the usual driver for the group and could best give directions. As there weren't enough seats for all of them, Ema had gotten into the trunk. They didn't have time to worry about safety. Phoenix let Iris climb into the van first, shoeless and shivering, and take the seat opposite him. He took the last remaining seat and slammed the sliding door shut.

"Is everyone seated and buckled? Besides Miss Skye, that is."

Phoenix fixed Professor Armando, who had turned to look at him, with a determined glare.

He wondered why Professor Armando knew so much about Maya. He wondered what concern he could possibly have for Pearl. He wondered, most of all, what he'd meant when he'd said he "hadn't gotten a chance" to visit Kurain.

But Maya was a thousand times more important, and so he shook those niggling thoughts out of his head. He nodded.

"Drive."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

"I hate to make you repeat yourself again, but I'll need to ask ya what happened."

Maya didn't answer. All that she could think about was how cold she was.

Almost like he had read her mind, the detective that sat in front of her handed her a towel. She'd been staring at the floorboards, and hadn't even noticed it sitting beside him.

Finally, she looked up. The detective frowned at her expression.

"A face like that just don't suit ya, pal."

Detective Gumshoe was a large man. He was tall, and he had broad shoulders and a barrel chest and big hands with thick, hairy fingers. To some, he may have looked intimidating. Maya, however, knew that he was harmless.

"You can take your time," he assured her. She shook her head and removed her drenched topmost robe, shivering at the air that touched her bare skin.

"No," she said quietly. "I... I'll talk."

She closed her eyes. She took a very long and very deep breath, and she tried to recall when, exactly, things had turned strange.

"Last night..." she stopped to clear her throat, as her voice had come out as a barely-audible squeak. "Last night, Aunt Morgan sent me to bed early. My legs felt heavy and my head hurt, and I fell asleep much faster than usual."

Detective Gumshoe nodded along as he scribbled notes in a little book with the pencil he always kept behind his ear.

"So there's a possibility you were sedated. What time did you go to bed?"

"I-I think it was around eight or nine. A-Anyway, I woke up feeling dizzy and had no idea what time it was. The wall clock had stopped, and I couldn't find my cell phone."

"Did you notice that it was missing right away?"

"Yes— It's my alarm clock. I panicked when I woke up because I thought I'd overslept. I felt around for it and didn't find it."

"I see... And you had no way of knowing what time that was?"

"No. All the clocks were broken. ...I should've known something was wrong."

The sound of pencil against paper briefly stopped.

"Hey, pal. Don't get back into that blame game! Just... Keep goin'."

"R-right. I-I, um..." Maya looked up as she tried to recall what had happened next. Her memories of that morning were still a bit fuzzy— likely the result of whatever sedative had had her wake up feeling so awful. "...I got out of bed to look for my phone, and I found that all the bags I'd packed were gone, too. I ran into Pearly, and she said the same thing had happened to her. She made me sit and take some medicine, and then we started searching together."

"Mm-hmm... But no luck, right?"

"...N-No."

"Well, don't worry too much about that. I've got all of my men searchin'! ...You really don't have any dry clothes?"

Maya sadly shook her head.

"I don't have a lot of clothing... All of it's in my bags."

Gumshoe frowned.

"Sorry t'hear that. ...So. How long did you search for your things? Did you try to use any other methods to call your friends?"

"I'm... not sure how long we looked. I tried the landline, but it wasn't working. There's a payphone near the bus station, but that's been out of order for a while."

"One of my guys said Morgan must've disconnected the phone line. Looks like she didn't want ya contacting anyone for help."

Maya shivered.

"...Guess not."

Gumshoe scratched his head, and his eyebrows moved up and down, one at a time. He seemed to contemplate whether or not he should ask his next question.

"So you spent an unknown amount of time searching the manor with Pearl... When did Morgan show herself?"

Maya stiffened. She saw Gumshoe pout in response.

"She... came out of her bedroom after we'd both been poking around for a while. I asked her if she'd seen my things, but she just said I needed to help with errands. She made me follow her into the kitchen, and... made me sign a bunch of papers."

Gumshoe hummed disapprovingly.

"And I'm guessin' ya couldn't understand all the legal jargon, right? ...I didn't think so. I can hardly make heads or tails of it myself, but I had one of my guys look at it, and he says those papers transfer power. They say Morgan gets control of the clan if somethin' happens to ya."

Maya gasped.

"But I—"

"Oh, don't worry about that. It'd never hold up in court. You were forced into signing them, and ya didn't understand the terms."

Maya looked only slightly relieved. Her shoulders raised themselves, and she lowered her head. She knew which part of the story came next.

"...After I signed the papers, I begged her to help me contact my friends. She said that we had to make an offering first. S-So Pearl and I had no choice but to go with her into the sacred chamber. Aunt Morgan locked the door behind us and hid the key in her kimono, and then..."

She stopped. She didn't want to say it again. She didn't want to recall it again. How many times would she be asked to repeat the same traumatic story?

She felt like she understood Miles better now. He'd talked about the accident only once, aloud, to Phoenix and Larry, and had asked them to relay it to the others. The thought gave her an idea. She peered up at Gumshoe, her eyes pleading.

"I-If I tell you the rest, will you tell my friends for me?"

Gumshoe didn't react at first. He fumbled around for words, gesturing at nothing, when the realization hit him. He took a moment to compose himself and cleared his throat, finally offering a nod.

"I can do that. ...Yeah! It's no problem!"

His grin was forced, but it put Maya at ease nonetheless. Detective Gumshoe had relieved her of a great burden, and her shoulders felt the tiniest bit lighter. It was just enough.

"...After she locked the door, Aunt Morgan turned to Pearly and told her to behave herself. She said that she had to do something that Pearly might not like very much, but that it was for the best. ...That's when she pulled out the knife."

Gumshoe sighed and shook his head. He was pressing down too hard on his pencil tip, threatening to break it.

"When did you realize what was goin' on?"

"...Pretty fast. She had... this look on her face. Like she couldn't stand the sight of me. She said it was time that the Kurain clan rid itself of its irresponsible, lazy heir, and then she attacked. ...I-I screamed for help, but nobody could hear me. All I could do was try to fend her off, but she cornered me."

"And that's when you got all those cuts?"

Maya glanced down at her heavily bandaged arms and fingers. Most of the cuts had been shallow, but there were a great many of them, and they stung.

"...Yes."

Gumshoe took a moment to finish writing his sentence. He looked sadly at the bouncy ball that sat on the floor near the kitchen. Maya knew what he was thinking.

"At what point did Pearl intervene?" he asked. Maya lowered her head, too ashamed to meet the detective's eyes.

"W-Well, while Aunt Morgan was coming after me, she shouted all of this strange stuff at Pearly. Pearly was begging her to leave me alone, but Aunt Morgan said that they had to get rid of me. She said she was gonna tell the police that I had attacked both of them first, and that Aunt Morgan had to kill me in self-defense. A-And she said Pearly had to act as her witness."

Gumshoe groaned.

"She thought Pearl would just go along with that?!"

Maya shrugged.

"Pearly never disobeys. ...Well, they argued. Aunt Morgan started slowing down because she lost her focus, and that's when Pearly jumped in and bit her. Aunt Morgan was so shocked that she stopped, so I ran and grabbed a heavy pot. ...Wh-When I turned back around, I saw her throw Pearly. She hit her head on one of the pedestals and cut it open. ...I-I couldn't think clearly. I just... hit Aunt Morgan, and she went down."

Maya went quiet again.

"She's fine," Gumshoe reminded her. "And even if she was badly hurt, well... She didn't give ya much choice. ...What did you do once Morgan was taken care of?"

"I checked on Pearly, of course! I tried everything I could think of, but she wouldn't wake up. A-And I knew that all the phone lines are down. I remember being told that you're not supposed to jostle injured people around, so I tied her kimono sash around her head, nice and tight, and headed for the clinic as fast as I could."

"The Hotti clinic, right? Didja use the bus or a bicycle?"

"N-Neither. I ran."

Gumshoe whistled.

"That's a long run, pal."

Maya glared at her feet, which were caked in dried mud— her sandals had provided little protection, and she'd removed them when they became a hindrance. She had no idea where they were.

"I didn't have any other choice. I got there, and Doctor Hotti called the police and had a nurse patch me up. Then I rode in the ambulance so they could pick up Pearly, and they dropped me off to talk to the detectives. ...They were all really nice."

Maya couldn't help but tear up. Had it not been for the kindness of the clinic's staff, Pearl might have bled to death.

"That was real nice of them," Gumshoe muttered as his scribbling became furious. "We drove over as fast as we could when we got the call, y'know."

The detective closed his notebook. He didn't have to ask any more questions.

As he'd said, Detective Gumshoe and his men had rushed over. They'd arrived to find Maya soaked, bloodied, and hysterical as several medics laid Pearl on a tiny stretcher and carried her away. After that, they'd asked Maya for a brief overview of what had happened, and then they'd arrested a barely-conscious Morgan Fey. The woman had screeched vile insults at Maya as she was dragged away.

This is all because you weren't responsible enough.

Mia would have been ashamed of you.

What would your mother say?

My precious Pearl's blood is on your hands.

It's all your fault.

It's all your fault.

It's all your fault.

Maya whined under her breath and tightly gripped the sides of her head. It throbbed painfully. The light, the sound, the air— everything hurt.

There was a long moment of near-silence that dragged on. Maya could hear the other detectives chattering as they searched the manor and nearby buildings, and she could still hear the rain.

Then she heard Detective Gumshoe clear his throat.

"Y'know, pal... All those cuts on your fingers?" Maya glanced at her hands, and then up at him. He scratched awkwardly at his wrist. "See, we call those defensive wounds. You probably got 'em by touching the blade of the knife when you were fightin' Morgan off. Normally, your pain reflexes wouldn't let ya do that, but in life-or-death situations, adrenaline kicks in, and ya don't even notice."

Maya nodded slowly.

"...Alright... What about it?"

Gumshoe pouted again, his distinctive 'puppy dog' face that didn't suit a man his size.

"Well... See, we usually find those on corpses. Homicide victims. And I just, well... I'm real glad it wasn't you this time. I-I know ya probably don't feel real lucky right about now—"

"Lucky?" Maya spat. She regretted her tone, but couldn't hold back the venom. "Why am I lucky? Because I survived? What if Pearly doesn't?!"

Detective Gumshoe stared at her for a moment, not reacting to her glare. It wasn't really directed at him, anyway.

"Pearl's a smart kid," he said through a thin and pained smile. "If there's one thing I can say about her, it's that she knew what could happen to her and she did it anyway."

Maya had begun to lower her gaze, but looked up abruptly. Her shoulders went stiff.

"Wh-What... What do you mean?"

"...Well, what I mean is that Pearl loves ya, pal. She's always ravin' about you even when you aren't around, talkin' about how she wants to be just like ya when she gets older... She knew exactly what she was doin' when she tried to protect ya. She... She made a choice."

Maya opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. Just then, she heard a commotion outside, like many voices overlapping, some disagreeing with each other. Each was a voice she recognized, but she couldn't imagine why she would hear them now and wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her.

"She's not in the garden..."

"Of course not, you foolish fool! It is raining outside!"

"She's not in her old cottage!"

"No one at the bus stop."

"This is the main hall, guys! She'll be here!"

There was a collection of grunts as the heavy door was forced open. Several figures burst into the room. Maya's eyes widened, and she moved to stand only to find that her knees were still too weak. Gumshoe gave her a concerned look, and she motioned at him to stay where he was, that there was nothing to worry about.

"M-Maya!"

"Miss Fey!"

"There you are— do you have ANY idea how worried we've been?!"

There was a crash of feet and noise as everyone gathered around her, some falling to their knees, others pushing past each other to confirm that she was really there.

"We came as soon as we got the call," Miles said.

...Miles. He was the one who was closest to her, and he sat on his knees, for once unconcerned about how dusty the floor was. His wet hair was matted to his head, as he'd apparently forgotten to pull up the hood on his heavy raincoat. Maya said nothing to him. She could only blink as she looked around the room.

It was an assembly she had only half-expected.

For Phoenix, this sort of thing was normal enough. He would jump off of a bridge if a friend asked it of him. Larry was a given, as he was wherever Phoenix was, and she was close to him. Ema was her roommate, and a dear friend. But Miles, Franziska, Adrian, Iris, and Mr. Armando were... Unexpected.

She considered Miles a friend, and had grown to feel strongly about him, but he could be so standoffish that she didn't know if he felt the same way. Franziska and Adrian were both aloof, both difficult to read. Iris was always polite, but her loyalties to her sister often overshadowed any supposed friendships that she formed. And Mr. Armando was a professor. She didn't even have any classes with him. What concern could he have for her?

"G...Guys?! What are you all doing here?!"

No one answered her question. Phoenix joined Miles at Maya's side and mumbled something mostly incoherent about how soaked and filthy she was. He took the partially-dry scarf from around his neck and used it to dab at her face. She scrunched up her nose and groaned that she didn't need to be coddled.

"Are you the one who let her borrow a cell phone to call us?!" Ema asked Detective Gumshoe. His blush betrayed that her guess had been correct. She grabbed him and gave him a quick, rib-crushing hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

Detective Gumshoe escaped as quickly as he could, dismissing her gratitude. "It's not a big deal," he insisted.

"You... You guys didn't answer me!" Maya cried as she finally got Phoenix to leave her alone. "You... I wasn't even expecting to see half of you. And you didn't have to rush down here like this—"

"Of course we rushed down here! That's what friends are for, isn't it?!" Larry yelled. He winced as soon as he had said it, apparently not having meant for it to come out as loudly as it had. Or, perhaps, he was embarrassed to have said something so corny.

At that, Maya's mouth fell open. She looked around the room, taking in each and every face, and attached them to Larry's words. Before today, she hadn't been sure whether or not everyone there truly considered her a friend. Franziska, especially. But now, seeing the proud woman's features pulled tight as she bit her lip and cast a worried glance out of the corner of her eye, Maya understood.

She looked at Miles, who was still on his knees beside her and removing his coat to place it over her shoulders. The man's face was usually somewhat expressionless or pulled into an unconscious frown, but now his expression was one she couldn't quite read. He looked almost fearful, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, something deeply personal.

"...Th-Thanks, Miles," she said, pulling the coat over her small frame. She had thought about saying she didn't need it, but the way her shoulders shook would have betrayed her lie. Miles forced a nervous smile that faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Sensing his discomfort, Phoenix moved to kneel beside him. He placed a casual hand on the other man's elbow, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Miles wouldn't look at him, but it was clear in the way that his jaw loosened that it helped.

Maya smiled. Couldn't Phoenix focus on comforting one person at a time? It seemed he really did have too big a heart for his own good. It wasn't as if she could complain, though.

After all, thanks to him, her family had come to rescue her. She decided, for the first time, that it was okay for her to call them that.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Everyone continued to swarm and fuss over Maya for the next fifteen minutes. Detectives brought more towels for everyone and took people's soaked jackets and hats away to wring them dry.

"I can't believe I missed all of this," Maya whined as she scrolled through her phone. A detective had found it turned off and shoved into a cabinet that neither Maya nor Pearl could reach. "And I definitely didn't send you all that last one— that creepy message."

"That was probably Morgan," Detective Gumshoe suggested. "She probably doesn't know much about cell phones, but the constant calls and texts from you guys must've made her nervous. She must've been hopin' to deter you... She clearly didn't know who she was dealin' with."

Armando laughed.

"They're a stubborn bunch."

"Hey!" Larry whined. "You're here too, y'know!"

Maya was able to giggle at her friends and their playful arguments, and her heart warmed at the goofy pictures she'd been sent. It was like having everyone in such close proximity, and all acting so normal, helped ground her.

They all asked too many questions. They talked over each other and shoved past each other in their efforts to get close. Maya became so focused on soothing them  that she forgot her earlier headache, that she stopped thinking about the cold or the dull sting of her wounds. There was a constant sting at the corners of her eyes, but no one drew any attention to it, and for that she was grateful.

Eventually the joking stopped, and the emotional fatigue caught up with everyone. Maya went quiet, and the atmosphere in the room changed to reflect her shift in mood. Her vision went fuzzy. She thought she felt someone touch her. She wasn't sure. She wasn't seeing what was in front of her anymore. She could only see and think about Pearl.

"Hey, Maya? What's the matter? Everything is okay now," someone said. She thought it might have been Larry. He sounded like he was underwater, his voice distant and garbled.

"It's not okay," she mumbled. "Pearly's still..."

"...They're takin' good care of her, pal," Detective Gumshoe said. She only knew it was him because of his catchphrase. "Doctor Hotti is gonna come and see us when she wakes up, remember?"

"But... What if she doesn't?"

"Do not say such things!" German accent. Franziska.

"Pearls is a tough kid," Phoenix agreed. Or, no, that wasn't Phoenix. Larry also called her Pearls. It was Larry again. "She wouldn't go down so easily."

"Pearl's going to be okay. We all know that. So what's really bothering you so much?" Adrian asked. She thought it was Adrian.

Maya paused to bite her lip and look down shamefully.

"I just... I just can't help but feel like it's all my fault," Maya confessed through a quiet sob. A single tear fell down her cheek. She felt the body closest to her stiffen reflexively, felt the arm around her tighten. ...Whose arm was that? When had that happened? "A-Aunt Morgan said it was because I'm not a good enough heir."

"Bullshit."

She winced. The voice was unexpectedly loud and came from right beside her ear. Another arm joined the one she'd felt before. Her cheek was pressed against someone's chest. She tried to focus her eyes on the fabric.

A red sweater vest.

"...Miles...?"

His name left her lips as a question. She had many questions. Why was he holding her, and not Phoenix or Ema?

In the time she had known him, Maya had never seen Miles initiate any kind of physical affection. He was always the victim of her hugs— and, yes, he had a way of making 'victim' seem like the right word. He was a bit of a drama queen, that Miles.

On top of that, he almost never swore. His speech was always concise (or intentionally vague, which could also be called 'concise'), and usually peppered with long vocabulary words. For him to bark out a swear word so reactively seemed unlike him.

"It's nothing more than a flimsy excuse," he continued. His voice was both raw and clear, and she could feel his chest rumbling. "Nothing justifies what she did."

"B-But... Pearly would make a better leader than me, right? She said she's doing all of this for Pearly's sake—"

"Which is utterly nonsensical," Miles snapped. Maya was somewhat relieved to hear him shift from profanity to spelling bee words. "She's doing this for Pearl? If that's the case, then why is Pearl in an intensive care unit right now?!"

"...That's... I..."

"Hmmph. And she was going to force her to bear witness to the brutal murder of her favorite cousin— her sister, really— at such a young age? She was going to make her lie to the police? And she carelessly tossed her aside the moment she got in her way?! Morgan can't possibly claim it was for Pearl's sake! Pearl— Pearl never would have wanted this. Not in a hundred, not in a thousand, not in a million years."

Phoenix and the others murmured their agreement. Maya, feeling another tear fall down her cheek, lowered her gaze.

"...It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, huh...?"

"Not one bit," Miles agreed.

Maya was too stunned to speak. She felt something within her give, felt the air rush out of her chest. She sobbed. Miles clicked his tongue and pulled, gently, on her forearm.

"Come here," he insisted. She did as she was told and buried her face in his chest. His touch, this time, was gentle. His hand patted soothingly at the back of her head.

No one said anything for a long while. Maya cried into her friend's nice shirt, and he said nothing snarky about dry cleaning or tissues like she would have expected him to. Miles held her until her tears stopped, until he heard her inhale a steady breath. She felt a lot better. Then, softly, Miles moved her back.

"Now," he said. There was something grim— haunted, perhaps?— in his eyes that Maya couldn't understand. "I don't ever want to hear you say something so ridiculous ever again. Understand? ...And I don't want to see that expression again, either."

It was more of a command than a request. Maya couldn't help but giggle as she wiped her eyes.

"Got it, dad." The usual crease in Miles' brow returned and deepened. Her smile widened, and she saw Phoenix smirk. She looked at him for about half of a second, and then she flashed a brilliant smile at Miles, as bright and innocent as she could manage. "By the way... Those jeans look really nice on you. You ought to wear them more often."

Phoenix's horrified expression was as ridiculous and exaggerated as Maya had hoped it would be. Miles, confused, didn't react right away. He looked down at himself, and when he looked back up, he gave her a comical frown.

"That— That's hardly relevant right now!"

A moment of awkward silence, and then Maya began laughing. She felt the tension in her muscles dissipate as the others slowly joined in.

The pain would return, of course. She knew that. But for now, at least, she could laugh.

Just as the laughter died down and the chatter resumed, a detective, long-haired and wearing a cowboy hat that couldn't possibly be within his uniform's code, entered the room.

"...Now, I do hate to interrupt," he began in a thick southern drawl. "But we found Miss Fey's things, and boss called with an urgent question."

Detective Gumshoe, who'd been quiet for a long while, stood. Maya let out a sigh of relief about her clothing. Gumshoe took the couple of duffle bags from his subordinate's hands and tossed them in Maya's direction before he faced the newcomer.

"What is it, Detective Marshall? What's the boss want?"

Detective Marshall looked nervous. He squeezed the cell phone in his hand.

"...It's about the girl. What was her name...? Ah, yes. Pearl."

Everyone went silent and stared at the detective's serious face. Maya prayed, to a thousand different gods, that it wasn't bad news.

"Pearl... What about her? Speak up, Marshall!"

Gumshoe glared and emphasized his broad shoulders. Marshall swallowed.

"Well... It's about her legal guardianship. Her mother won't be a free woman for a long time."

"Th— The elders!" Maya choked. "Sh-She doesn't have to leave Kurain, does she?! I'm sure the village elders wouldn't... mind..."

Her words trailed off as Marshall shook his head.

"Sorry, kiddos, but no can do," he said softly. "The boss says she can't stay here until the investigation is finished, including Misty's disappearance. We're not about to gamble with a ten-year-old's life."

Maya jumped to her feet and stood before the officers. She heard someone else do the same and felt them stand behind her, but didn't focus on it. She clapped her hands together in a pleading gesture.

"Don't... Don't take her from me!" She'd meant to sound assertive, but her fear leaked into her tone. "Please, she's the only blood I have left. We— My friends and I can take care of her! R-Right, guys?!"

"I... I guess so—"

"Come on, Nick," Larry interrupted, his words sharp. "I know you don't want her goin' far away, but we can hardly feed ourselves sometimes."

"But we can all pitch in!" Ema argued.

"I'm sorry, but they probably won't sign off on somethin' that vague," Marshall said, his voice pained.

He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news. He was just doing his job. Even so, Maya couldn't help but glare at him. She stomped one foot, feeling her eyes well up with fresh tears. It was childish, and it was stupid, but she did it anyway.

"You— You can't do that! I won't let—"

She was silenced by a firm hand on her shoulder. She glanced at it out of the corner of her eye and recognized the tone of his skin.

"Please. Let me... I'll take her."

Maya didn't say anything. She didn't gasp. She couldn't make any sound at all. All she could do was turn to face him. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"...P...Professor?" Phoenix squeaked, shocked. "You... You aren't obligated to help just because you're here, y'know—"

"You misunderstand."

Phoenix shut his mouth.

Diego Armando looked past the others to stare directly at Detective Marshall. Even if they tried asking him questions, he seemed unlikely to respond. Phoenix motioned at his friends to stay quiet.

"...May I ask who you are?"

"Diego Armando. I am thirty-two years old, and I am a music professor and orchestra conductor at Ivy University. I bring in a good, steady income, and I own my own home and vehicle."

Marshall nodded as he wrote the information in his phone, likely planning to check with his boss.

"...That sounds promising enough. You live nearby?"

"In the city."

"And do you know Pearl Fey?"

A brief pause.

"I do."

"What is your relationship to the Feys? Are you a member of the family?"

A long, long pause. Painfully long.

"...Professor Armando...?" Maya whimpered, so quiet she could barely hear herself. "What—"

"I was supposed to be."

At that, everyone's most devout attention was focused on Armando. Maya held her breath. The air seemed to still.

"...May I ask for some clarification on that?" Marshall asked cautiously. Armando sneered.

"I was supposed to become a member of the family, but things don't always go according to plan," he snapped. "Sometimes a maniac comes along and ruins all of your carefully-laid plans. People get taken away too soon."

"And I understand that," Marshall replied. His gaze hardened. "Believe me, I do. But that doesn't really answer my—"

The detective froze when he saw Maya whirl around to grab Armando by his lapels. The professor didn't react, almost like he'd been expecting it.

"Are you— are you talking about my sister?!" Maya's voice came out as a desperate screech. "Don't dance around her name like she's—"

"Of course. Of course I'm talking about Mia."

Maya's fists tightened.

"Why... Why bring her up?! What was she to you, what— what would you have been to me, huh?!"

"I... suppose that I would have been your brother-in-law."

Maya was so startled by his words that her grip faltered until her hands reached uselessly for nothing, suspended in mid-air. She took a half-step back, shaking her head.

"That— that's impossible. Sis would— Mia would have told me! She... She...!"

"She was going to tell you."

"When?!"

"What do you think it was that she wanted to discuss with you that night?"

Maya had no answer to that. Tears of a different kind began to flow down her face, and still, Armando wouldn't look at her. He did smile for a moment— softly, like an apology— but then his mouth twisted and the expression was gone.

Phoenix rose, slowly, to his feet and put a gentle arm around his friend, pulling her close to him.

"...I think you have some explaining to do," he said. His voice was firm, but not demanding. Armando let out a joyless laugh.

"That's... a long story."

"We have time. Pearl ain't even conscious yet," Gumshoe retorted.

Over the course of an achingly long minute, Armando withered under the expectant states directed at him.

"Fine," he relented. "I'll... I'll talk. But... I'll need a pot of coffee."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

As soon as it was decided, Gumshoe had one of his men brew a pot of coffee. He relayed Maya's story to her friends, just as she had asked of him, when she left to change into some dry clothes. Maya returned from her bedroom with blankets for her shivering friends, and then she sat on the floor beside Armando.

Everyone formed a circle on the wooden planks, Detectives Gumshoe and Marshall included. All eyes were on Armando. Phoenix wasn't sure how to feel about the professor's grim expression, or whether to even believe what he had claimed.

Phoenix kept his hand on Miles' back for as long as he could, only moving it when he had no other choice, in an effort to calm him down. He had plenty of questions for the man. He wanted to know why he was so upset. But he would have to save those inquiries for another time.

It was someone else's turn to talk.

"...Ha. There was so much that I had intended to say, but now that the time has come, I'm... afraid that I have no idea where to begin."

The almost-smooth voice echoed in the large hall, though it was robbed of its usual velvet by fatigue. The rain outside had died down and no longer muffled the sound. Phoenix could barely hear the dull clang of it against the metal shingles on the roof.

Professor Armando— No. Diego. He'd asked to be called that for now. He was clutching, in his hands, a much-needed cup of coffee so that he could begin the process of talking, for the first time in a long while, about the woman he'd loved and lost.

"Just start from the beginning," Maya urged. "Tell me when you first noticed her."

Diego raised an eyebrow.

"Noticed...?" He allowed Maya to nod. She was all too eager to hear about a side of her dearly departed sister that she had never known. "I noticed her the day I met her. How couldn't I? She was..." He stopped to find the right word, and then he shook his head. "...No. To call her beautiful would be an insult— an understatement."

"The understatement of the century," Larry sadly agreed.

Miles, who had never seen Mia before (he'd been too embarrassed to ask to see a photograph), looked to Phoenix, who gave a nod of confirmation.

"She looked like one of those classic movie stars," Phoenix whispered. "With the pouty lips and the beauty mark and everything."

"Principal Grossberg introduced her to us. Mia was young, but he raved about her." Diego looked up, as if trying to recall the image of that fateful day. "I remember the moment that I first saw her. I'm no stranger to beautiful women, but I was blown away. I couldn't believe that she was really a professor. I thought it must have been a trick.

"She introduced herself as a Fey, which was even more shocking. I was familiar with the clan's work. Everyone was impressed by her. And I distinctly remember that when she shook my hand, I... couldn't even think of a line. That had never happened to me before."

"So... it was love at first sight?" Iris asked, her voice barely audible. Diego laughed.

"Not quite. It was impossible to ignore her looks, and I'm not exactly shy about women. But even so, I had always drawn a line between my personal and professional lives. Mia was a colleague, and I was determined to leave it at that." Diego swirled his coffee around in his mug, looking at it stubbornly.

"But clearly something changed," Adrian teased, "or else we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"...My defenses failed me."

"What was it?" Maya asked. Diego looked strangely embarrassed.

"It wasn't any one thing, and it happened in stages. It was a number of things. A number of incidents over a number of years."

"Years?" Ema echoed.

"Yes," the professor confirmed, "years. She and I were merely coworkers and friends for about two years."

"I'm surprised it took you so long," Ema laughed. "Lana's mentioned your habits."

Maya narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"What habits are these?! ...And they'd better not include my sister!"

Diego tried to laugh as suavely as he normally did, but a bit of his nervousness showed through. Maya could be scary when she wanted to be.

"...I... have been called a womanizer in the past," Diego admitted. Phoenix wasn't surprised— the professor was a bit too charming. "I haven't had many long-term relationships. It's a badge I've been forced to wear, and Professor Skye has never been one to sugarcoat it."

"...I swear, if you cheated on sis—"

"Never," Diego said emphatically. "Mia was... Mia was different. I swear. She made an honest man out of me. Truly."

"Oh? And how did she manage that?"

"...I didn't start trying to pursue her until I'd known her for about six months," Diego answered after running a hand through his hair. "And she was always polite, but she never fell for any of my usual tricks. Normally I'd have gotten impatient and given up, but... What can I say? There was just something about her. Even if she didn't want to be with me, I at least wanted to be closer to her. ...Even if it wasn't going to be easy."

"Did she dislike you?" Ema asked, scrunching up her nose.

"No, nothing like that."

"Playing hard to get, then," Detective Gumshoe guessed. Phoenix couldn't help but laugh at how blatantly curious he was. He did seem like a hopeless romantic.

"Well, no," Diego said, " because she wasn't playing. ...It's not as if I was knocking down her door and begging her to go out with me. That would be inappropriate. I simply didn't get the response that I was used to— even when she flirted back at me, it always felt like she was making fun of me. She kept her professional barrier intact. And... I understand why. She had to be that way."

"What do you mean?" Maya blinked, curiously, at the professor. Diego fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in annoyance at some unseen entity.

"...Well, you see... Mia had to be especially serious when it came to work. She was young, and she was pretty, and plenty of the older staff members were quick to remind her of that. She dealt with accusations that she never would have landed the job if not for her looks. So she had to work twice as hard as the others in order to prove herself and save her clan. She couldn't risk ruining her carefully-guarded reputation for some fling with a flirtatious coworker, right?"

Phoenix nodded, smiling sadly. Mia had always had too much to shoulder on her own. Diego, as he recalled this phase of their relationship, laughed.

"Still... It was fun in its own way. I'd say something flattering, and she'd give me a light shove. Normally, women would respond with 'you're such a charmer'. But Mia's preferred line was 'you think you're a real charmer, don't you?'... Not quite rude, but it was her way of saying that she wasn't about to fall for that."

"That... sounds like sis," Maya said through a giggle. "She was always independent. Smart, too. Way too smart to fall for any old schmoozing."

"Sounds like a funny gal," Detective Gumshoe said glumly. "Wish I coulda met 'er."

"Yeah," Maya agreed, "me too. She would have liked you."

Phoenix couldn't help but agree— from what he could tell, the detective was a bit of an airhead, but Mia had valued honesty and integrity in a person above all else, and it was clear that 'Scruffy' had more than enough of those attributes.

"She liked most people, I think. She simply had little patience for spineless people," Diego mumbled, like he was talking to himself. "That sweet heart of hers... Never met anyone else like that."

He shook his head. Miles frowned at Phoenix. All this talk of the deceased was surely making him sad, Phoenix thought, as he, too, had lost a loved one. Maybe Gregory and Mia would have gotten along. Actually, he was positive that they would have.

"...So she kept her distance for a little while," Maya summarized. "Then what?"

"Oh— She warmed up to me. We shared a lot of students, and had to work together on the tournaments. We crossed one another quite a bit in the teacher's lounge. ...Though that, admittedly, was by design more than chance. That's how we became friends."

"She'd talk to you?" Maya perked up. She'd worried, when her sister had moved to the city, that she would have trouble finding companionship. She'd been guaranteed a friend in Professor Skye, who had recommended her, but even so— it was tough to leave one's entire family behind. "...About what?"

Diego's mouth twisted up at one corner until it resembled a proud smirk.

"Work, mostly. Which might sound boring... I had assumed it was her way of being polite at first. But she was passionate about her job, and especially about art. We didn't practice the same mediums, but we could talk about art and our students for hours. We understood one another very deeply on that level."

"...Did she ever talk about me?" Maya asked quietly, an uncharacteristically timid note in her voice. Diego's expression twisted.

"...At first? ...No. She didn't."

"Whaddya mean?!" Gumshoe asked, looking offended.

"Mia was... cautious. She didn't talk about her family with anyone that she didn't see as a very close friend. I spent a great deal of time in her office, and she kept a framed picture on the desk... I had to ask her who it was three times before she gave me a straight answer."

"I hadn't realized she was so secretive," Maya mumbled.

"She was protective of you," Diego said with a shrug. "She wouldn't allow anyone that she couldn't trust to have anything at all to do with you."

"...But she did tell you eventually," Maya realized aloud. "When you met me at orientation, you said you'd heard good things about me."

Diego smiled an embarrassed sort of smile.

"I did say that. ...See, after a couple of years, Mia had started to consider me a friend that she could confide in. We often went out for coffee, and visited each other in our offices. ...I got hooked. And on more than one thing, it would seem." Diego held out his coffee mug as if to draw attention to it. "...It's only natural that, by that point, she would feel comfortable talking about her family."

You're gonna die of a heart attack at 45, Phoenix thought grimly as he glared at the mug. He decided to lecture the man later. He'd remind him that Mia would have wanted him to take care of himself, and that drinking seventeen cups of coffee in a single class period couldn't possibly be healthy.

"What kinds of things did she say about me?"

"...It was always praise. She had the occasional concern, as it's in the nature of an older sister's job to worry. But she told me that her sister was smart, brave, and talented— and all of that on top of being very pretty."

Maya blushed. She seemed too overwhelmed with gratitude to respond, so Phoenix asked a question that he was sure was somewhere on her mind.

"You've talked a lot about flirting and friendship," he recapped, "but you said that you planned on marrying her. That's a big jump. When did your feelings get that serious?"

Diego suddenly looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. It was quite a blunt question.

"It's... a bit of a long story. And besides, I can't tell you everything. I'm sure you don't want to hear about that."

"I told you, pal— we got plenty of time," Gumshoe reiterated gruffly. He was trying to sound bossy, but he came across as desperate instead, no doubt because he so badly wanted to hear the story. Diego sighed.

"...It was routine for me to invent excuses to see her. One night, I found that she had left her studio in disarray. That wasn't like her. So... I sought her out. And I found her in her office, lying on her sofa and crying."

"...Crying?" Maya repeated the word. She looked puzzled, and Phoenix didn't blame her. Mia had always put on her toughest front for her younger sister. It was entirely possible that Maya had never seen Mia cry.

"I was... surprised," Diego breathed. "She was always so poised. I was worried, but when I asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't tell me. ...I couldn't just leave her there like that. I sat beside her and rubbed her back. I didn't say or do anything else, I just... Waited. When she stopped, she wiped her eyes and looked at me, and... smiled. It was a kind of smile that I'd never seen before. In that moment..."

"...Something changed," Iris guessed.

"I suppose it did," Diego agreed. "She had ruined me, and I knew it. Because... I didn't want to kiss her. Or to try anything else— none of my usual tricks. I just... wanted to squeeze her hand, and tell her that everything would be okay. See..."

Diego looked up, his brow furrowed in frustration, and his fingers twitched as he tried to find words. He snapped when they came to him.

"Before that moment, she was something like a goddess to me. I adored her, of course, but I had yet to see her as a mere human being. And once I had, it... solidified things, I suppose. ...I don't fully understand it myself. I'm not sure why it happened the way that it did, but—"

"I get it."

The words left Phoenix's mouth before he could silence them. He felt his face heat up and saw his friends looking at him, but he dared not glance to his left, in Miles' direction. It would give everything away if he did that— it would give away that Phoenix understood perfectly what Diego meant.

When he'd first laid eyes on Miles, he'd been smitten. Infatuated. He'd been drawn in by Miles' beauty, by his own romantic inclinations and projected fantasies. His genuine love— a more whole and fulfilling love— didn't come until later, and it had grown slowly, blossoming often when he had least expected it.

That love had taken root when Miles started discussing books with him over tea by the warm light of a fireplace. It had sprouted when Miles had chosen to expose a more personal side of himself through music and the sharing of memories of lost loved ones. It had bloomed when he'd started agreeing to silly things like dancing around in a dorm room or attending Halloween sleepover parties.

Perhaps most significantly of all, Phoenix's love had grown when he had learned to accept a simple truth: that as much as he loved Miles, he could never cure him of his mental illness. He had to accept him for what he was, broken parts and all. He could give him a shoulder to cry on, but he could never, ever fix it. Love alone couldn't cure all things. But Phoenix had learned to be at peace with that.

Yes, Phoenix understood Diego perfectly. In just a few short months, Miles had evolved from a fairytale prince to a raw and tangible human soul. And he had fallen more in love with him, with that soul, than he ever could with any fantasy.

"...I'm glad that someone understands, I suppose," Diego mumbled suspiciously when he'd finished studying Phoenix's face. Phoenix tried to act casual in the hopes that no one would ask him a follow-up question, but he could see in Ema's eyes that she had every intention of making fun of him later.

"I'll bet she started treating you differently after that," Maya guessed. Her voice was a bit too loud. She was probably trying to draw attention away from her flustered friend.

"I'd say so," Diego agreed with a nod. "She seemed to soften. I think Mia was afraid of being seen as vulnerable, but I made it a point to treat her no differently. ...She started visiting my orchestra rehearsals, and she told me more and more about her sister, and then, before I knew it... She kissed my cheek, once, at the end of one of our coffee dates. I caught her the next time. And the rest, as they say, is history."

There was a pause as everyone smiled. Gumshoe stopped just short of clapping.

"Don't get too excited— Mia told me that if we were to be together, I'd have to follow her rules," Diego added.

"I'd hope so!" Maya said confidently. "I'd be disappointed if she had just caved in to some man and his demands."

"She never did that, I can assure you," Diego laughed. "Not once. ...Mia's primary rule was that I wasn't allowed to tell a soul about our relationship unless we both agreed to it. Not faculty, not students, and... not even family."

"...And that's why I didn't know?"

Maya looked very young all of a sudden. Diego swallowed as he nodded.

"For what it's worth, I wish that we could have told you sooner, but I tried to respect Mia's wishes. She didn't want to tell you until she knew that you liked me, and she wanted to be sure that you could support yourself in the event that she decided to come live with me."

"I... I guess it makes sense," Maya mumbled. Ema squeezed her hand. "Sis probably didn't want to try and force someone else into my life. I-I mean, I was even a bit wary of Nick at first, and he's totally harmless."

Phoenix managed a chuckle, but he understood that Maya was admitting to something rather serious. While Maya was very sociable, she had always been defensive— jealous, even— of Mia. Maya had feared, when Mia decided to move into the city, that something would steal her away.

Maya's worst fear had always been the thought of losing her older sister. Of course, at the time, she had meant so only in an emotional sense. She never could have predicted what had happened. No one did.

"How long were you together?" Maya asked to distract herself from the negative train of thought. Diego hummed a low note.

"It's difficult to say. We never celebrated anniversaries. But, by the time she left us... We'd been keeping our little secret for nearly two years."

"That's a long time," Ema observed. "People get married by then."

"And I had decided that I was going to propose," Diego reminded her. "I was able to make a good impression on Maya. Mia seemed to trust me with her. Things were looking up. So... I got a ring for her. It was a simple band, something that would keep the questions away, but it was an engagement ring nonetheless. I kept it in my pocket, waiting for the right moment."

Diego's expression darkened. In one swig, he downed the rest of his coffee. He set the now-useless mug on the ground, drawing up one of his knees so that he could rest his arm on it. He clearly hadn't wanted to reach this part of the story so soon.

"...Mia finally told me that was ready to tell Maya, and that she would entertain the possibility of moving in with me. She still has a drawer of her things at my place as it is, and she was almost never in her apartment. It seemed like a logical step. So she told me to spend the weekend relaxing, and said she planned on inviting Maya to her office to discuss things. But... Instead..." Diego grit his teeth. It was a good thing that he wasn't clenching the mug anymore, as it likely would have shattered. "...I asked if she wanted me to be there, you know. But she insisted that it was something that she had to do alone. ...If I had just—"

"There's no use in blaming yourself for it," Miles interrupted, his tone stern. "There's only one man to blame, isn't there?"

Diego swallowed thickly and gave a very slow nod, though it was one that didn't look too convincing.

A long, long silence.

"I received a phone call on a Sunday morning," the professor said simply, "from a Detective Goodman, informing me that all Ivy classes were canceled for the next week. ...On account of the homicide."

"It's the worst part of the job," Detective Marshall said sadly. "Solving homicides gives people peace, but... Having to tell the family and friends of a victim that their loved one is gone is always difficult."

"The detective that I spoke to wasted no time coaxing me into it," Diego bitterly replied. "One moment, I was a bit nervous that Mia hadn't called in a while. The next, I was casually informed that the woman I loved was dead."

"That's... that's awful," Adrian lamented. Diego shrugged.

"I... refused to believe it, even as I was dragged into the investigation. I told them everything I knew, and gave them access to her phone and computer in return for a promise of privacy, but... It all felt like some sick joke. The worst part..." Diego risked a glance at Maya. "Perhaps the worst part was that Maya discovered the body. Which meant that Mia never told her. I felt as though I had put her in that spot for nothing, and... that it cost us all her life."

Phoenix remembered. All classes had been cancelled until the police were finished with their investigation of the University— a process that took an entire week. A week during which all of Ivy grieved. A week that Maya had spent talking to police and crying on Phoenix's sofa. He'd never before considered what the professors and staff had done during that time.

"You had a week all to yourself," Larry said, voicing Phoenix's thoughts for him. "What did... What did you even do?"

Diego's face, for a moment, was entirely blank.

"Honestly...? Nothing. ...I couldn't function for days. I destroyed all of my dishes, I punched a hole through my wall, and then I planted myself on the sofa with several bottles of wine and didn't move from that spot. For at least thirty-six hours."

Phoenix winced. He should've expected that it wouldn't be pretty— Phoenix himself had been a wreck after he'd received the news. Maya had gotten permission to skip classes for the entirety of the following month. Even so, it was hard to picture the ever-polished professor as a wailing drunk.

"But you seem... Y'know. Okay now," Ema pointed out. "So... What got you back on your feet?"

Diego raised his eyebrows at Ema, and then he laughed.

"Your sister, actually."

"...Really? Lana?!

"Professor Skye couldn't get in contact with me, so she let herself in by force," Diego chuckled, "and then she knocked some sense into me. She was Mia's best friend— she knew what she would have wanted. ...It was difficult— that first week back. But Professor Skye and I ate lunch together every day, and we didn't have to say anything. We just... understood one another. She'd known about Mia and I."

Ema nodded. Lana was smart, and if she had spent so much time with Mia, it would have been impossible for her not to have known.

"...After a short while, I managed to regain some sense of normalcy. But there was still a void. I knew that I needed something to keep me going on a daily basis. I needed a meaningful routine." Diego looked around at a few of the gathered faces. "...And I chose you."

Everyone blinked.

"Us?" Miles murmured. Diego smiled at him. The others that he'd looked at seemed to understand something.

"The orchestra... has always been a large part of me. With Mia gone, I decided to give it just about everything I had left. And without that, I don't know that I could have gotten out of bed on many a morning."

Iris blushed and fiddled with her hair. Adrian, Franziska, and Miles seemed too surprised to react.

"I am pleased that we could help," Franziska said, and surprisingly sweetly. Diego gave her a grateful nod.

"...Besides the orchestra, though, I needed somewhere to direct my attention. And..." he laughed, under his breath, like it was supposed to be a secret. "...When I thought about it, I realized that Mia had already told me exactly what I should do."

Maya nodded along very slowly, her eyes glistening slightly. She understood.

"The most important thing in Mia's life was her family— her sister, and her little cousin," Diego explained, confirming everyone's suspicions. "Just about everything that she did was for their sakes. I thought that I could make up for failing to protect her if I looked after them in her stead. ...After the girls, Mia most valued art, and, by extension, the one she had chosen to succeed her. ...Her protégé."

Detective Gumshoe scratched at his chin stubble as he hummed in understanding.

It all made sense, now— the professor's unusual knowledge of the Fey girls, and the amount of favors he did for them. Maya was allowed a strange amount of freedom in the University, and this was likely the professor's doing. Phoenix, however, felt like a colossal fool.

"...A-Are you talking about me?!" he stammered. It was a silly question. Mia had introduced Phoenix as her protégé when he'd first met the highly-acclaimed Professor Armando. And Armando had grinned, had _immediately_ invited him to attend the orchestra's performances whenever he wished, and completely free of charge for him and all of his friends. And had said to call him if he never needed anything at all. "God, I'm such an idiot," Phoenix added before Diego could answer.

Maya and Diego giggled at his expense together. Phoenix felt Miles pat him reassuringly on the hand, while Larry opted to slap him on the shoulder and laugh at him.

"Sure explains a lot," Larry managed. "Like Nick and I always getting the dorm with the huge windows even though there are, like, eighty people fighting over it. Do Ema and I count as part of this package deal?"

Diego shrugged, still laughing.

"Something like that."

"I'm an idiot!" Phoenix repeated.

Normally, Phoenix was quite good at picking up on the subtleties in the way that others acted. He knew that he was— it always irritated Miles, who was used to getting away with being reserved and seemed to think himself very mysterious. But somehow this had gone entirely over his head, and he couldn't help but beat himself up over it.

"You're not an idiot," Diego insisted. "You... simply have a bit of a one-track mind. You were too busy keeping an eye on Maya to notice how I've doted on you. ...Mia spoke very highly of you, you know."

Phoenix peeked out from between his fingers, as he'd tried to hide his face in his hands.

"...She did?"

"Of course. She thought you had a talent like nothing she'd ever seen before."

"That—" Phoenix scoffed. "She wouldn't say something like that. I just... y'know. I paint people. Portraits. It's hardly exciting."

"Portraiture... is an overlooked art form," Diego thought aloud, fiddling with his tie. "Mia had a soft spot for it. She always said that there's more to it than realism. Anyone can capture a likeness, but not everyone can capture an essence. ...Don't sell yourself short. You'd be doing her an injustice. Or do you want to make a liar out of her?"

"N-No! Not at all," Phoenix squawked. "I mean... She taught me half of what I know, so I'm not sure I can take much credit for it..."

"I've probably had a hundred instructors," Miles retorted. "All that they can do is give you a roadmap. It's up to the artist to decide where to go with it. To discount talent on account of training— that's just ridiculous."

Phoenix frowned at his friend for a moment, and then he realized what Miles was actually saying. The kindness in his intent had been hidden, for a moment, by the sharpness of his tone. When he realized this, Phoenix smiled, and returned his earlier pat on the hand.

"...I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around this," Adrian said after a long moment. "I don't mean to offend you, Professor, but... How is it that you spent so much time with Professor Fey, but didn't know about Mr. White?"

Diego flinched. Adrian's expression twisted in an apologetic fashion.

"She... simply never told me. I knew nothing of the forgeries. She knew that White was dangerous, but I suspect that she never thought he'd go as far as he did. Mia was stubborn... Perhaps she wanted to uncover the truth on her own."

"...Is that what you think?"

Phoenix looked up at Maya and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head, a soft smile on her lips.

"...I can only assume," Diego answered. "I have no way of asking her."

"Well, think of it this way— you keep going on and on about how you wanted to protect her. Did it never occur to you that she might have wanted to do the same thing?" Maya tried to wipe discreetly at the corners of her eyes. "...She didn't tell you for the same reason that she didn't tell me. She wanted to protect us, just in case something bad happened."

Diego's eyes widened. Maybe he really hadn't thought of that. Phoenix heard him say something indecipherable under his breath, but made no comment on it.

"I'm... truly sorry that I couldn't tell any of you the truth," he eventually said, choosing not to respond directly to Maya's assertion— perhaps only because he didn't know what to say. "Looking back, it may have been an unwise decision on my part. Maybe I could have been more helpful if I had been honest. But—"

"No," Maya interrupted. "I get it. ...If some man had just suddenly introduced himself as my sister's secret boyfriend right after she died, and then tried to force himself into our lives, I... I might have resented you. But you've been really nice to Pearly and I, and you've looked after Nick... I get that you really cared about her. ...I'm not mad at you."

"The way you wrinkled my lapels would suggest otherwise."

Maya blushed and waved her arms.

"I-I'm sorry about that! I was just... shocked, I guess. But now that you've explained everything, I understand. Really!"

"Oh?" Diego's teasing smirk faded after a moment. "...Thank you."

A few minutes of near-silence passed. Detective Gumshoe checked his phone for news from the hospital and found nothing of note. Maya took Diego's empty mug to the kitchen sink and switched her dampened towels out for some dry ones.

"Time certainly flies," Diego said when Maya rejoined them. "Some days it feels like only yesterday, but it's been well over a year. ...How are you these days, Maya?"

"Me? ...I still miss her. But... I have some really great friends, and I still have Pearly, so it's not so bad. ...Have you moved on?"

Diego shrugged, looking anxious, and scratched the back of his neck.

"What does it mean to move on, really? I've done it as best as anyone can, I suppose... It's like what you said—"

"You're lying."

Diego narrowed his eyes at Phoenix. Maya, who'd likely been trying to lighten the mood, shot her friend an annoyed look that asked a thousand questions.

"...That's quite an accusation, Mr. Wright."

"But you said it yourself! ...I just don't think you noticed it."

Each of Phoenix's friends, and the two detectives, raised their eyebrows at him, with one notable exception. Miles hummed under his breath— an indication that he, too, had caught the professor's slip of the tongue. Larry, of course, looked as clueless as ever.

"And what, exactly, did I say?" Diego's mouth twisted down at one corner as he awaited an answer. Phoenix leaned forward.

"You said that Mia has a drawer at your place, not had."

Diego blinked, for a moment or two, as he replayed his own words. When he identified his mistake, he lowered his head. Maya gasped at the realization.

"...I... I'll admit it. I didn't have the heart to empty it. I feel as if throwing her things away is... is accepting that she'll never come back to get them."

No one said anything at first. Most of the girls looked like they were afraid to.

"...That doesn't sound healthy, pal." Detective Gumshoe, surprisingly, was the one to say it. "I know it's gotta be hard, believe me. It's not like I don't understand. But... there's gotta be closure at some point, right? You'll just get depressed if ya have that stuff sittin' around."

Diego didn't respond.

"N-No one's saying that you have to get rid of everything," Iris squeaked. Phoenix was surprised by her assertiveness. "Or that you have to do it tomorrow. There's n-nothing wrong with having a keepsake or two, but there's a crucial difference between that and having things that you can't remove yourself from, that are shoved away and too painful to look at. ...Professor Fey was always independent, right? She wouldn't like knowing that she's holding somebody back."

Her voice was hard to understand, as she'd been unable to keep from tearing up, but it was a start. Phoenix flashed her a quick thumbs-up, knowing full well how hard it was for her to be so forceful. Diego inhaled and released a deep breath.

"...You're right," he huffed. "I can't promise anything. But... It's about time we bring this to a close, isn't it?"

"It's not that everything has to end," Maya scolded. "It's just... a new chapter! ...A-And in case you were wondering... the new chapter includes you."

Diego didn't react right away. He needed time, it seemed, to fully process the statement, and then more time to understand the implications of it. When it registered, he looked more touched than Phoenix could've thought possible. Diego's dark eyes went wide, any hint of the usual haughtiness in his expression having been completely blown away.

"...Really?"

"Yep!" Maya chirped. Somehow, already, she was smiling as if nothing at all had happened. Phoenix wondered what the hell she was made of. "You're part of the family now."

"...You'd have me?"

"Of course I would. ...Pearly, too."

Diego opened his mouth, as if to reply, and found that he couldn't form words. Maya started to laugh, until, eventually, the professor joined in. The two laughed together in relief, sharing a moment of comfort and acceptance despite their mutual loss.

Then, the mention of the missing little girl sunk in, and Maya's smile slowly dimmed until it faded from her features.

And before she could voice her immediate concern, there was a sound: the sound of someone rapping insistently upon the door. Detective Gumshoe scrambled to his feet and ran to unlock and open it.

"Doctor Hotti! What's the news?!"

Phoenix and his friends imitated the detective as soon as they heard the name. The doctor was quickly overwhelmed by the overlapping voices of many frantic young adults. He shouted for everyone to settle down, and Detectives Gumshoe and Marshall both helped quiet the crowd.

They waited. Doctor Hotti brushed raindrops from the shoulders of his pristine white coat, cleared his throat, and adjusted his glasses, and each action seemed to take hours, if only for how long everyone had been waiting.

"...I wanted to come here personally because I wanted to give you the good news myself," Doctor Hotti explained. Maya held her breath. "...Pearl is concious, she's responding well, and she's expected to make a full recovery."

There was an ear-shattering chorus of cheers and shouts. The doctor flinched, very slightly, but did seem to understand the excitement.

"The surgery went alright?!"

"She only required about fifteen stitches. We'd like to keep her for tonight, as she did lose a significant amount of blood and is very fatigued, but she shouldn't face any permanent complications. Once the wound heals, we can remove the stitches— good as new."

Maya started sobbing right away, like a dam had been burst. It was likely out of relief, or simple exhaustion, more than anything else, but Ema hugged her tight nonetheless. Larry, a bit too overwhelmed by the day's events, laid down on the floor. Iris laughed and joined him there.

"You sound like you're taking a Lamaze class," Phoenix laughed. Larry waved a hand before letting it fall back to the floor.

"...Shut... up. Just... Gimme a minute, okay? ...Jesus Christ."

"Leave him be. It's been... quite a day. I think I've had more than enough excitement for a long while," Miles sighed. Phoenix threw an arm over his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. Miles wasn't crying, but he did look very tired.

The doctor went over the formalities with Gumshoe while Marshall called their captain, and in the meantime, the others celebrated and held one another. After a few minutes of this, the doctor cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention.

"...I do hate to interrupt the festivities," Doctor Hotti tentatively began, "but the child will need to be cared for as soon as she is released, and it's unlikely that she can be returned to this village."

The room quieted. Maya exchanged a nervous glance with Detective Gumshoe. He swallowed, nodded, and then turned to Professor Armando.

"...Didja mean what you said earlier? About havin' a spare room?"

Diego nodded furiously. The doctor observed him and made a thoughtful sound.

"...I don't know," he said. "We prefer to release children to members of their own families. Arrangements would have to be made—"

"She can stay at the station until we get that stuff done! We've got bunks for that sort of thing!" Gumshoe shouted.

"But you would still need to convince your captain, wouldn't you?" Doctor Hotti reminded him. Gumshoe stiffened. Diego's hand shot out and grabbed at his shoulder.

"Detective."

Both detectives and the doctor turned to face the professor, whose face was full of desperation.

"I... failed to protect Mia. I nearly failed again today. And you won't catch me making the same mistake a third time. I won't allow it. ...Let me take her. ...Please."

It was difficult to hear a grown man beg. Doctor Hotti and Detective Gumshoe exchanged a look, the doctor's expression a bit too tight.

"I'll... do whatever I've gotta do to convince the captain," Detective Gumshoe promised. "I'll handle all of it. You have my word."

The doctor studied him, for a long few seconds, before he sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"...Fine. I'll see what I can do. But don't say anything to her— we wouldn't want to get her hopes up for nothing."

Diego shook the doctor's hand a bit too hard, stumbling over himself somewhere in between "thank you" and "you won't regret this" and instead uttering some bizarre combination of the two. Doctor Hotti seemed to understand his meaning anyway, and he laughed.

"So it's settled! Let's go see Pearls!" Larry hollered. The doctor put up his hands as if to bar him from the door.

"Hold on— I can't have all of you in there at once!" Doctor Hotti barked. Larry looked disappointed. "Immediate family and police only! ...For now, anyway. We should be able to allow her visitors by tomorrow. I suggest you each bring her something from our gift shop."

"That's my cue," Maya realized aloud, hopping up and down as if to prepare herself for the journey. "Can you take me there, Scruffy?!"

"Sure thing, pal! As for the rest of ya, you should... Um..." The detective's words trailed off, as he couldn't find a suitable command. Maya stood in front of Phoenix and looked up at him with concern in her eyes.

"...Will you guys be okay? I-I don't want to make you all go back home without me after all of this, but..."

"Don't worry about that," Phoenix insisted. "We'll head back to the dorms. You need to take care of your family. Just... tell her we send our best wishes, and that we can't wait to see her again, okay?"

"And tell her I've still got a present waitin' for her when swings by next! I'll drive everybody back," Larry added. "...And we should all get somethin' to eat and get some rest, while we're at it."

"I, for one, would like to get out of these ruined garments," Franziska grumbled.

"S-So it's really no big deal?" Maya asked again, still looking a bit uncertain. Diego patted her shoulder.

"I'm sure we're all happy enough that we were able to offer you any help."

"And we'll exchange the presents and watch the movies next weekend," Miles suggested, "and we can invite everyone. How does that sound?"

Miles looked around the room, focusing on those who hadn't been invited to the original outing— Iris, Adrian, and Franziska. The girls nodded at Maya and smiled, promising without words that they would be there. Maya quickly grabbed hold of Miles' hand, gave it one tight squeeze, and then released it.

"That sounds great. ...Thank you, everyone."

With the arrangements in place, the group that had arrived in Larry's van said their goodbyes and made their way back to it (after giving Maya an enormous group hug). Phoenix kept the detail about Ema's spot in the trunk to himself until they were far away from the detectives, as the last thing they needed was a ticket.

Phoenix slept for the entire duration of the trip, and no one woke him.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Miles' dorm room was dark— far from the pitch-black of night, but not quite light enough for the daytime hours, either.

The sky, outside, was still cloudy and covered up the last remnants of the sun, and the harsh light had hurt in contrast to it. Phoenix had turned the overhead light off. Without it, the room was dim enough that Phoenix felt he could fall asleep with little problem. The only light was that from a lamp in Miles' reading nook.

He and Miles had gone there together, after returning to the college, with the intent to use what little was left of their day to study. But Phoenix could see how tired and distressed Miles still was, and so he'd insisted that they simply relax. He'd left for a short while and had returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"I'm not a child," Miles grumbled as he accepted his mug. Phoenix shrugged.

"I didn't say you were. Everybody likes cocoa, right? And it's cold."

Miles muttered something under his breath, but didn't reject the drink outright. It was good enough for now. Phoenix tried a sip of his and found it too hot, so he set it on the coffee table to cool. Miles glared at him. He blushed and retrieved coasters for both cups. No heat rings on Miles' furniture.

Several minutes passed. Miles didn't say anything. Phoenix understood— the day's events made it difficult to focus. He found the remote and clicked on the TV, settling on a news station. The anchors were talking about the stock market or some other equally boring thing. Phoenix had only wanted the comforting background noise, anyway. 

"...Are you alright?"

Phoenix jumped at the question. Normally he was the one to ask. He turned to Miles, who had wrapped a blanket around his own shoulders. To Phoenix's surprise, he offered him a corner of it. Phoenix managed to keep a straight face as he pulled the remaining cloth over his own frame. He risked another taste of his hot chocolate. It was safe to drink now, so he took a swig of it.

"Yeah," he answered. "...Yeah. She'll be okay. She's always okay, right?"

"...Right."

Again, there was a long silence. It wasn't uncomfortable. Phoenix worked himself over until he was as close to Miles as he could get, using the blanket as an excuse and wrapping it fully around the both of them. Miles changed the channel, and this time he decided on some trivia game show. Phoenix cleared his throat.

If he didn't ask now, he probably never would.

"Miles." He stiffened at the sound of his name. "...What happened back there?"

Miles mulled his thoughts over as he adjusted the volume on the television.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Maya." Miles lowered his head. Phoenix didn't avert his eyes. "I understand that you care about her, but you got... You got really upset. ...I mean, you never swear, and you never touch people."

Miles scoffed, that tch sound he made with his teeth sometimes, and glared down at his hands, which now gripped too tightly at his mug. Phoenix took it from him and put it on the coffee table— the last thing he needed was to spill hot chocolate all over himself.

"...It's because I'm a hypocrite," he finally said. His words came through clenched teeth. "I tell myself those things on a regular basis, but somehow, when she did it, I just... I had to tell her that wasn't true, and I... I almost wanted to shake her. To insist 'no, no, it's not your fault, you can't hold yourself responsible'."

Phoenix unconsciously moved closer to Miles, close enough that their legs touched, to place a comforting hand on his knee. Maya had blamed herself for Morgan's actions several times that afternoon. Miles had reacted very strongly to that. Why did that irk him so much?

"What do you mean?" Phoenix asked. He lowered his voice. "...You can talk to me, you know. You can tell me anything."

Miles didn't respond for what may have been several minutes.

At first, he stared down at Phoenix's hand, his expression blank. Phoenix considered removing it, but gave him a light pat instead. That seemed to tell the other man that the hand was safe, prompting him to focus his gaze on his own trembling hands. As he breathed deeply, the shaking evened out. Phoenix couldn't help but release a relieved sigh— he had feared that Miles would have another anxiety attack, and he wasn't sure he could watch that again.

"My father..." Miles started out slowly, looking at the TV screen and not registering its images. He huffed in a breath and continued more loudly. "...The first thing you should understand is that the life of a well-known author isn't as glamorous as it's made out to be. Most of the money is in publishing, and since my father wasn't a greedy man, he wasn't the best at making deals. He always refused offers for adaptations, too, because he felt the directors never understood his vision. Which wasn't selfish, mind you— I told him not to sell his artistic soul for money, and he didn't want to disappoint me. ...Sometimes we could afford luxuries, and at other times we barely got by."

Phoenix frowned.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't feel too bad. We had a nice house and a nice car. It's just that sometimes we could barely pay the bills for such things, and it didn't always leave much left over. ...Anyway, my father wasn't the type who could pander to audiences and drum up a book in a month, not even for children. Writing was a physically draining process for him, and required all of his focus. He worked nonstop, all to provide a good life for me. ...He often stayed up all night."

Phoenix nodded at Miles to continue when he paused to look in his direction. His expression seemed uncertain and searching, so Phoenix moved the hand on his knee in a slow, soft rythm. Miles swallowed.

"...The night before the accident... I kept him up. I was being selfish, complaining about the fact that I didn't get to see him as much as I wanted to because he was always cooped up in his study. That, and I was worried about money, because some of the other children had called him a hack. He stayed up far later than he should have to console me, even knowing that he had an interview very early the next morning."

"That's nothing to feel so guilty about," Phoenix argued. "Kids don't understand work or money or bills, and that's usually because our parents don't want us to. They want us to focus on school and on being kids, you know?"

He smiled. Miles looked mildly startled, but after a moment, it faded, and his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked away, down at his hands, hands which had started to shake again as he folded up his legs and gripped his knees.

"...You don't understand what I'm trying to say. ...He didn't just zone out, or lose control of the car, he..."

He trailed off— no, he didn't trail off, his voice was forcibly cut off by the tightening of his throat muscles. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"...He fell asleep at the wheel."

Phoenix felt like he'd been kicked in the jaw. It was always something Miles said that made him feel like that, like he'd taken a blow.

"...Oh."

Now it all made sense.

Miles had always, for all these years, blamed himself for his father's accident, in the same way that Maya had tried to blame herself for Morgan's crime. They shared a similar burden. The only difference was that Maya had an abundance of family and friends, whereas Miles had always kept things to himself and been punished for it.

Losing a loved one was one thing. Losing a loved one under traumatic circumstances, and believing oneself to be the very catalyst for that event, was another thing entirely. And Phoenix had no idea how he could possibly make that feel any better. What could he possibly say? What could anyone say to relieve that kind of intense pain, even for an instant?

"D... Did you ever tell Uncle Ray?"

It was the only thing Phoenix could think to ask.

"No," Miles retorted, half word and half bitter laugh.

"What about... the police, o-or hospital staff?"

"...No."

"...Surely you've told somebody else," Phoenix said. I can't be the only person you've ever trusted this much, he did not say, even if it was what he meant.

"No," Miles repeated. "Nobody."

He said it like it should have been obvious, like he was annoyed at having to repeat it. Phoenix felt it like a knife to his throat. He wasn't sure what was so frightening about it to him.

Phoenix loved Miles. He loved him. But he'd never expected Miles to hand him his whole heart like this, to so brazenly risk being broken apart from within. That level of trust, of responsibility, was actually quite daunting. Did Miles really trust him that much? Or had he simply needed to relieve himself of this particular burden, and Phoenix just happened to be the one who was there when the truth finally spilled out?

It didn't matter— not right now. He gripped Miles' shoulder as tenderly as he could, his touch feather-light. He felt a very slight twitch. Restraint, right now, was difficult. He wanted to pull the man into a tight hug. But if he pushed this too far, Miles might shut the metaphorical door and never open it again.

"Why?" Phoenix managed to ask. "Why... didn't you tell anybody?"

"What, was I supposed to tell everyone?" Miles snapped, still not looking at him. "Was I supposed to run around town and announce that I'd killed my own—"

"That's not what happened," Phoenix interrupted. His hand tightened. Miles lifted one of his own hands like he intended to remove it, but froze, his eyes wide and focused elsewhere. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"...You may say that, but that doesn't change anything about how it feels," Miles grumbled. "...But, no, I didn't tell anyone. Not even a therapist. I-I just... felt guilty. A-And besides, I didn't know who to turn to! I've been fending for myself for as long as I can remember."

Phoenix took longer than he should have to process that last sentence. He made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Something about that statement wasn't right. It took him several seconds to put a finger on it.

"But... But you haven't been fending for yourself, Miles, you've been— you've been fending people off!"

Miles raised an eyebrow. Phoenix cursed himself for being so blunt. But it was something that had to be said, wasn't it? A true friend tells the truth, even when it's difficult, right? If Miles trusted him enough to reveal his deepest, darkest secret, this kind of thing was to be expected. It had to be.

"I beg your pardon?" Miles asked when Phoenix didn't elaborate.

"I'm serious," Phoenix said, his tone desperate. "There are people around you who care about you, but you've... You've gone out of your way to shut them out. I'm not calling you cruel or anything, because I don't think you even realize that you're doing it, it's just... You've gotta let other people shoulder the burden sometimes! Nobody can do it all on their own."

The whole of Miles' face seemed to twitch, like it was little more than a mask that was now threatening to fall off.

"...Why would you... say that? ...I-I haven't shut out anyone who was willing—"

"Before you came to Ivy, when was the last time you had spoken to Franziska?"

Miles stopped moving. For a second, it looked as if he'd stopped breathing, as even the subtle rising and falling of his chest had ceased. His lips moved before a word managed to form, and it seemed he had to remind himself how speech worked before he could even try to answer the question.

"...That..."

"Tell me the truth! ...You two practically grew up together, didn't you? And you both had to deal with her dad, didn't you?! You were practically in the same boat! Both of you said you think of each other as siblings. ...But she was surprised to see you. When had she last heard from you? ...Answer me!"

Miles stared at Phoenix for another long moment, not saying anything. The grey in his eyes turned foggy as they watered. He squeezed them shut and looked down, very slightly shaking his head with his jaw clenched tight.

"...It had been nearly two years," he admitted through his teeth.

"And that's exactly what I'm talking about," Phoenix reiterated firmly . "Who goes two years without speaking to their sister? ...How can you claim to have nobody to help if you didn't even contact her?"

Miles' eyes opened. He stared at the cushions. Phoenix watched as something swam through his eyes, wondering if this was what it was like to watch someone recall something. Franziska, no doubt— their fights, their rivalry, and their irreplaceable bond.

"...I..." Miles croaked, the word a quiet tremble. He sighed and turned away, curling into himself. "...You're right. I... I push people away. It's the only thing I'm good for, really."

"Don't say that—"

"And besides, why should I bother anybody else with my abundance of issues? I'm... Christ, Nick, I'm a fucking mess."

That last sentence stung. It stung because it wasn't entirely untrue. Phoenix gulped down a lump in his throat. He wanted to deny that accusation, of course, but there was a kernel of truth to what Miles was saying— being a friend or relative to him wasn't a walk in the park. Miles did have a lot of personal issues, and learning how to navigate that was a lot of work.

But anything worth having had to be fought for, didn't it?

"We're all... kind of annoying, for lack of a better word, every once in a while. And you, you're... You're just sick, Miles. You wouldn't hate Uncle Ray if he had diabetes or something, would you? If you had to remind him to take his insulin all the time, or he had a blood sugar spike every once in a while and had to go to the hospital?"

"...No. That wouldn't be fair."

"Then why should this be any different? Just because it's in your head doesn't mean it's not a real sickness."

"...I suppose you're right."

"I'm always Wright."

"...I..." Miles paused, for a very long moment, to process the statement, as it seemed he'd forgotten what a joke was. Phoenix could see the moment that it hit him. "Oh my god. Shut up. Never speak to me again."

He rolled to the other end of the couch and weakly threw a pillow at Phoenix with a limp wrist. He tried to burrow himself in the blanket as Phoenix tossed the pillow aside, laughing, and pulled him back.

"I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little," Phoenix insisted. "Now, c'mon. ...You said you felt the need to scold Maya when she blamed herself for what happened. You called yourself a hypocrite. ...What did you mean?"

Miles closed his eyes. His fingers slowly curled into fists. Phoenix had a grip on both of his wrists, one in either of his hands. If this had happened at any other time, Phoenix would have entertained the thought of giving him a kiss, but that was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

"...Maya... When she said it, it seemed ridiculous. It was so obvious to me that it wasn't her fault, and that if she said it was, she would only hold herself back. She would only subject herself to needless punishment. ...A-And then I wondered... I..."

Phoenix waited for Miles to elaborate, and instead, he pulled his hands away and held them near his chest. His eyes spilled over with tears, and not the frantic kind that he'd seen on the roadside. These were large, wet ones that spilled slowly down his cheekbones and dripped onto the blanket. Phoenix waited, unmoving. He wouldn't interrupt this.

"I wondered... I-If my father actually saw me like this— being stuck in the same place, constantly feeling so much guilt for what happened— would he... Wouldn't he feel the same way...?"

Phoenix felt like a floodgate had opened somewhere in his heart. It was hard to describe, the sudden rush of mixed emotions. He felt tears of his own forming at the corners of his eyes, and his mouth formed a strangely goofy, lopsided smile. Was this pride? Relief? Sympathy? Or something else entirely?

He wasn't sure, but he didn't need to give it a name. He took one of Miles' hands in both of his and squeezed it, squeezed it far tighter than he had intended to.

"You're right. You're so right. That's exactly— you've got it, Miles."

"...Do I...?"

"Yes. Yes, you do. You do! Your dad—" Phoenix stopped talking and released Miles' hand, as he was already getting carried away. He tried to collect himself before pressing on, but he couldn't help the tiny sob that escaped his throat in the form of a laugh. "L-Look, I... I didn't know the man. But I do know that he was a good dad, right? And no good dad would want their son to sit around feeling guilty, or for him to constantly punish himself, right? ...Right?!"

"N-No," Miles stammered. He wiped at his eyes in as dignified a manner as he could. "I suppose not."

"Of course not. A-And... And you understand that now, right?! S-So you won't..." Phoenix choked back another sob. "...So you won't keep blaming yourself, right...? ...There's nothing wrong with forgiving yourself, you know. B-Because you didn't do anything wrong."

"...It's not going to be easy," Miles mumbled. He sounded scared, almost timid. Phoenix risked taking his hand again.

"It won't be," he agreed, "and it won't happen overnight. But it'll be worth it. And I know you can do it— I-I happen to think you can do just about anything, really. ...Besides, we're all here for you, right?"

Miles nodded and managed a very slight smile. It was small, but somehow incredibly bright, even through the tears. It was probably because there was finally a little shred of hope shining through it— the kind of hope that he hadn't allowed himself to have in a long time.

"...Right."

The smile eventually faded. Phoenix focused on rubbing circles into the back of Miles' hand with his thumb. Miles didn't squeeze his hand back, but he didn't pull it away, either. Not until he briefly escaped to fetch a box of tissues, mumbling an apology under his breath as he cleaned himself up. Phoenix only chuckled before taking a couple of the tissues for himself.

"...D-Don't tell anyone."

"Huh?"

Phoenix had let his thoughts wander and didn't understand, at first, what Miles was referring to. Miles frowned.

"I-I'm going to work on it. I am. But... B-But I still don't want people to know, not until I'm ready to tell them on my own. S-So... What I told you? Please... keep it to yourself." His voice came out as a quiet plea.

"Oh— of course! Of course I will. E-Even though it's definitely not your fault, I... I do understand. ...I won't tell anybody."

Phoenix patted Miles' hand. With that promise, Miles' shoulders fell, like he was finally releasing a heavy weight from his back. And though he'd stopped crying for a short while, he choked up again. All of the talk of his father and his guilt had probably stirred up emotions that he hadn't had to face so directly in a long while.

"Come here," Phoenix offered, patting the bit of cushion left between him and the other man. Miles scoffed into his tissue.

"Don't be absurd. I'm not about to sob into your chest."

Phoenix chuckled. Even now, you've still got that pride of yours, huh?

"I wasn't asking you to do that."

"Then what do you want?!"

"Come here. Just... Just a little. Scoot over."

Miles begrudgingly did as he was told. Phoenix wrapped the blanket over the both of them before wrapping an arm, very carefully, around his friend, who trembled slightly. He could feel Miles release a long breath as he adjusted to the sensation. And then, to Phoenix's great surprise, Miles scooted over until they were pressed together at the sides and rested his head against Phoenix. He could feel fine hairs tickling his neck. They were even softer than he'd imagined.

For a moment, Phoenix thought it was strange. But maybe it wasn't strange at all. If Franziska was anything to go by,  Manfred Von Karma was not a kind or affectionate man. And while Uncle Ray loved Miles, their relationship was a bit unconventional— since Miles felt indebted to him, he didn't ask him for much of anything and seemed to keep most his feelings to himself.

It was entirely possible that Miles had been starved of physical affection, of the simple comfort in another person's touch, for the majority of his life. And if he was comfortable with letting Phoenix provide that for him— even the smallest bit— then Phoenix would gladly oblige him. He tightened his arm, and waited a few minutes before he said anything.

"So... do you wanna just... watch TV? I'm not sure what's on right now."

Miles jerked upwards before responding, like he'd started to fall asleep.

"I just... want to relax. I don't particularly care."

"TV it is, then." Phoenix took the remote and settled on reruns of a murder mystery  show he'd used to watch with his mother. He thought that he remembered the episode. It almost felt like cheating, to know who the killer was in advance.

Miles watched a full episode in near-total silence. Phoenix watched him more than he watched the TV. Miles made sounds when he was thinking. (Was it an involuntary tic of his? He did have a few physical tics, so it was plausible.) Watching Miles' eyes widen in surprise, or watching his mouth twist up at one corner when he'd figured something out, was far more entertaining for Phoenix than the show was. That, and it was a relief to see him so relaxed.

"...What is this show?" Miles asked halfway through the second episode. "If I had to guess by everyone's hair, I'd say this was filmed in the eighties."

"O-Oh, it's— it's Murder, She Wrote. It holds up pretty well. ...Have you ever seen Beauty and the Beast?"

"Mm? ...A couple of times. When I was little."

Phoenix made sure that Miles was looking at him before gesturing at the lead actress.

"That's Angela Lansbury. She's the teapot."

Miles blinked at him in surprise, and for a moment, he looked much younger. Or, rather, he looked his own age for once.

"...Mrs. Potts?"

Phoenix frowned for a moment, confused, and then he laughed. He hadn't expected Miles to remember her name.

"Yeah, Mrs. Potts."

Miles stared at the television and furrowed his brow in what looked like concentration. Phoenix wanted to kiss that little wrinkle of his. It distracted him, and so he only caught the second half of something that Miles mumbled. Something about a chip.

"Sorry, what'd you say?"

Miles, who'd apparently been talking to himself, flinched.

"I... I was just thinking aloud. It's always bothered me."

"What has?"

"Chip. ...Mrs. Potts is supposed to be an older woman, isn't she? And they've all been cursed for many years. So why does she have such a young son? Did she adopt him? And besides, he's allegedly younger than he could possibly be given the timeframe— are their ages frozen, perhaps as part of the curse? Or was Chip born a teacup? And if so, who's his father? How would that even work, physically speaking?"

Phoenix stared incredulously.

"...Are you sure you've only seen that movie a couple of times?"

Miles' face reddened, and he glared.

"Sh— Shut up!"

Miles gave Phoenix a half-hearted shove, and Phoenix laughed uproariously. There was a melancholy undertone to this, though. Phoenix couldn't contain the surge of relief that flowed through him at seeing his friend act so normal.

"It's, uh, nice to see that you're feeling better," he offered lamely. To his surprise, Miles blushed.

"I probably don't cry as often as I should... I don't want to wake Uncle Ray. He worries too much."

"I'll, um..." Phoenix tried to think of a proper response. "You don't have to worry about crying in front me. And, no matter what... I'll always protect you."

Miles shrugged, with only one shoulder, and made a sound similar to a chuckle.

"I... appreciate that," he replied, seemingly rolling the words around on his tongue. "But I'm tired of always needing to be protected." A pause. "After all, there's... someone I should be protecting," he added, more quietly.

Phoenix blinked at the pianist when he fell silent once more. There weren't any words. There were no words to describe the awe, and the new depth of respect, that he felt. Just when he thought he'd fully understood the man, there he went, impressing him and knocking his breath away once again.

He unconsciously tightened his hold on him.

No matter what happened, he would never, ever let go.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

"She's coming! She's coming!"

Everyone jumped into position behind the counter or the couches. Everyone, of course, was only seven people.

It had been three days since Phoenix and his friends had last seen Maya. They'd all visited Pearl in the hospital the day after the incident, dropping off a number of toys and goodies, and had then been forced to return home and wait for Maya to sort things out with Professor Armando and the police. She'd texted them updates as more information became available. It had been a very revealing and eventful few days, with shocking revelation after shocking revelation, and it was agonizing not being able to hug her in the midst of it.

Now, she was finally headed back into town. The professor and Pearl, meanwhile, were probably getting settled in at their new home.

Maya, dressed casually in a purple hoodie and jeans, and with her hair out of its usual strange up-do, reached the door of Vintage Volumes and jiggled the doorknob. Nothing happened. She frowned.

"...Larry!" Miles hissed from his spot behind the front counter. "You were supposed to unlock the door!"

"Wha?"

"We're closed," Ray reminded him sternly. "She can't get in if you don't unlock the door!"

"But I'll ruin the surprise! And why do I have to unlock it?!"

"Because you're the closest!"

The argument, which consisted of loud whispers, went on for a few more seconds until Phoenix pounded a fist on the coffee table he had crawled under. Larry groaned and moved to unlock the door.

"Maya!" He said casually as the door swung open. "Fancy seeing you here! I'm just, y'know... Hangin' out in the store. All by myself."

God dammit, Larry.

Maya glanced past Larry and gave the room a quick scan, clearly trying not to laugh. At the very least, it seemed they'd hidden well enough that she couldn't see them.

"Yeah? ...Who let you in?"

"Uh—"

"The store is closed. ...Also, Uncle Ray texted me to come here. It'd be kind of weird for him to tell me to come here and then... Y'know. Not show up—"

"W-Well, why don't you just come inside?! And then we'll discuss how to punish that asshole for standing you up."

Larry put a hand on Maya's back and ushered her inside, closing and locking the door behind her. She glanced suspiciously at him out of the corner of her eye.

"So what's the deal—"

"Surprise!"

Uncle Ray, Kay, and Miles leapt up from behind the front counter. Ema and Miss Starr appeared from behind the couches. In place of Phoenix, there was a loud thud.

"Ow!"

"Wright," Miles sighed, "did you hit your head on the table?!"

"Don't attack me when I'm down!"

Phoenix groaned and slowly crawled his way out from under the surprisingly heavy piece of furniture. He'd made a mistake in thinking that he could abruptly jump out from under it. Maya was laughing at his plight. Normally, he would have a retort for her, but he found himself struck by how normal she looked without her beaded hairstyle and her robes. He was also reminded of how young she was.

"Good job, Nick," she teased.

"You people are just terrible at surprises!" Ray laughed. "I seem to recall Mr. Butz banging his hip against my countertop—"

"Hey, Maya hit her hip on the counter! I banged my head against a shelf!"

"My point still stands."

Maya giggled as she watched the argument. She was noticeably tired and quiet, but didn't seem to be upset. That would have to be good enough for now, until she had some time to process everything and recover.

Miss Starr stepped forward to put a tender hand on Maya's shoulder.

"I know you probably weren't expecting to see me," she said, "but you kids have been awfully good for business for Mr. Shields and I. So I thought it wouldn't hurt to repay you. You just wait right here."

She disappeared, leaving Maya very curious. She looked to Ray, who feigned ignorance. Kay ran to her side and gave her a tight hug.

"I'm really sorry about all that's happened," she cooed. Maya raised an eyebrow. "Oh— Uncle Ray had to fill me in a bit, since I kept insisting on being a part of the surprise party. I should mind my own business, I know, but it's not like I don't get it. ...My daddy was killed when I was pretty young."

Maya blinked at her.

"...Really?"

"Yeah— he was a private investigator, and he ended up getting wrapped up in something bigger than he was. It got him killed. ...I've got a really great adoptive family now, and plenty of stuff to remember him by, but it was still really hard."

As Kay Faraday awkwardly adjusted her scarf, she forced the kind of bright and unwavering grin that Maya Fey had no trouble recognizing. She realized, just then, that they were cut from the same cloth, and she returned the girl's hug. Phoenix watched, and he hoped that they, too, could become good friends. Miles would never admit to it, but he was actually quite fond of Kay.

Miss Starr returned, just then, with the cake that she'd spent the day making from scratch. Maya clapped as soon as she saw it.

"It's a Magatama!"

"It is, dear— I modeled it after that necklace of yours. There's also hot coffee for anyone who wants it."

Larry and Ray took her up on the offer of coffee while Maya cut the cake, only so that she could choose the slice she liked best. The others took their pieces after she was done. Phoenix tried not to laugh as he watched Miles cut a piece in half and then scrape all of the frosting off. The laugh escaped him when Larry took the rest of the piece and the little frosting pile.

As soon as everyone had been served, Miss Starr gave Uncle Ray a hug and pinched Miles and Kay on their cheeks before she took her leave. The remaining people sat around exchanging formalities and eating cake for a while. When Maya had finished her first slice, she set her plate down and folded her hands in her lap. Her smile looked tired.

"...So... Is Morgan really gonna confess?" Ema asked tentatively. "In court, I mean."

Maya nodded. Phoenix sighed at the fact that the conversation already had to turn serious.

"Scruffy thinks she'll go through with it. She has a better chance at a cushy prison cell if she cooperates, and there's no way she's getting away with everything."

Phoenix frowned. Everything, indeed.

The last three days had brought with them a revelation that Phoenix, truthfully, had seen coming— Misty Fey was dead, not missing, and had been dead for years.

"How're you holdin' up?" Larry asked. Maya shrugged.

"I... I think I've already kind of known for a while. I guess I thought that if my mom was still alive, she would have come back for us by now, you know? ...N-Not that that's necessarily true—"

"Hey, now, kiddo." Ray, beside her on the couch, interrupted Maya by wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a quick squeeze. "...Adults make mistakes too. Even caregivers. Misty wasn't perfect, but... I'm sure that she loved you very much, even if it was from a distance."

Maya looked down at her shoes— comfortable slip-ons, as opposed to her usual wooden sandals.

"...You're... probably right."

Phoenix shook his head sadly. He'd expected to find out that Misty was dead. She'd been missing for over a decade. What he hadn't expected was to learn that, in the beginning, she had left of her own volition.

Misty had started to feel inadequate. Her husband had died when she was still pregnant with Maya after a long battle with illness, leaving her to handle all of her responsibilities alone. The pressure of being the Master of Kurain and restoring a fallen clan to its former glory, combined with the pressure of raising two daughters on her own, had mounted on her until she couldn't take any more. And when that happened, she did the only thing she felt she could do:

She ran away.

Misty Fey had fled Kurain in the middle of the night without telling a soul. She'd changed her name and her appearance, and taken up a new career in the city. Even Morgan hadn't known where she was for a long while. With Misty gone, the title of Master passed to Mia. And once Mia had been killed, it passed once more onto Maya. Only in the event that Maya was somehow eliminated would it pass onto Morgan's family. It was that very realization that had turned Morgan cold-blooded.

So, yes, Maya had been expecting news of her mother's demise. But to face the fact that she had, quite simply, abandoned her was an entirely different kind of painful. Phoenix hardly knew what to say. He, unlike so many of his friends, had a complete and generally untroubled family.

"I... don't think she was a bad person," Maya said quietly after a few moments of thought. "She probably told herself that we would be better off without her there. She'd gotten really depressed."

"A reasonable assumption," Miles agreed.

"S-Still, I wish— I just wish I could have talked to her. Just once. So she'd have a chance to explain, or so I could get to know her a little better. But..." Her gaze turned sad. "...Aunt Morgan just couldn't let us have that, I guess."

Phoenix couldn't help but scowl whenever he heard someone mention Aunt Morgan. He was happy that Maya would finally be rid of that witch, once and for all, but it would have been better that someone like Morgan was never born.

"The important thing is that she'll finally pay for what she did," Ema said firmly. "And it totally proves that you're not responsible for what happened! Because... She did that way before you were the heir! So it's got nothing to do with you. She's just greedy. Greedy and selfish."

"Definitely," Larry muttered. "I mean, what kind of a person can kill their own sister?"

"There truly are some terrible people in this world." Ray shook his head.

That was the second of the horrible truths uncovered this week— the truth about Misty's eventual demise. She'd met her death at the hands of her own sister.

After years of hiding herself away, Misty had gotten word of what a wonderful job her daughter Mia was doing as heir. She'd sent a letter to her sister disclosing her location. Morgan had gone to see her in her secret home in the city, where Misty had told her that she was thinking of returning to the clan, to her daughters, as it seemed that they had been able to fend for themselves.

But Morgan wouldn't allow that. Misty's return would mean that she could reclaim the title of Master, and that would mean one more person in her way. So instead, she'd stabbed her sister and buried her body in a location that she had yet to disclose. Mia had been eliminated for Morgan, and then the only remaining member of the bloodline was Maya— Morgan had been so very close to getting what she'd wanted. It was a well-deserved irony that Pearl, her own daughter, had stopped her.

"I just feel bad for Scruffy," Maya whimpered. "He's apologized to me about a hundred times already. ...See, he was close to figuring out that Morgan had done something to my mom, and he went to Kurain to ask her some questions a couple of days before I went to visit, and that sort of... forced her hand. She thought she had to get rid of me before her crime caught up with her. I keep telling him that there's no way he could have known she'd snap like that, but it doesn't seem to make him feel any better."

"He seemed like a softie," Phoenix laughed. "Of course he's gonna feel bad. But he'll be alright. And he's repaid you anyway, right? He's the one who found all those clues. They wouldn't even have that confession without him."

"Yeah," Maya said affectionately. "And he convinced his Captain to let Mr. Diego take Pearly! ...Honestly, I don't know where we'd be without him."

Phoenix noted that Maya had switched to calling him Mr. Diego as opposed to the previous Professor Armando. Maybe someday she'd call him Uncle, like what Miles called Ray. It was best not to rush things, though.

"Has she gotten settled in alright?" Ray asked. Maya smiled as she nodded.

"Oh, Pearly just loves it over there. She's got her own room and her own little studio. Mr. Diego had a pottery wheel installed. There isn't enough room for a kiln, but there's a place that rents one out just down the street, so it works out okay. There's a playground in town, too."

"That's nice. An old Japanese village hardly seems like a place with lots of fun things for a kid to do."

"It's not. Aunt Morgan hardly even let her watch TV. And the only one who regularly got her toys was Detective Gumshoe." Maya frowned at her hands. "...I'm glad she's finally got a safe place to go. It's just... kind of sad that it can't be the place where we grew up."

"Y'know, kiddo..." Ray put an arm around Maya. "As long as Miles and I run this place, you'll always have a safe place to go. Anything you ever need— you just give us a call, okay?"

Maya looked to Miles, who gave her a nod. She smiled warmly.

"...Thanks, you guys."

After a pause, Kay thought up a question of her own.

"So... What did your mom do? When she was away, I mean. Uncle Ray forgot to tell me that part."

"I've been curious about that, too," Larry piped up. "Nobody's told me."

Maya seemed startled for a moment, and then she laughed.

"It's... Kind of funny, actually. It's not something I would have expected. She wrote and illustrated picture books."

"Picture books?" Phoenix echoed. This was the first time he was hearing of it. Or maybe Maya had mentioned it to him, and he'd forgotten it amongst all the other gruesome details. "Like, as in stories for kids?"

"Yeah! She used a weird pen name, too. Elise Deauxnim. ...We actually had to call her publisher to make sure that's how it's pronounced." She crossed her arms and frowned. "Scruffy stopped by a few different Barnes and Nobles, and some other places, but nobody seems to carry them anymore! She... obviously hasn't published any new material in a while."

"What a pickle," Ray said in a strange and loud tone. "You can't find them in any default bookstore. If only we had, say, a store that sells used and vintage books. Or something along those lines." Most of the room gave him perplexed stares. Ray cleared his throat and reached over Maya to smack Miles on the top of his head. "Miles," he growled. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

All eyes immediately focused on the pianist, who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"...Miles," Phoenix pled, "do you have something?"

Miles abruptly cleared his throat.

"It's nothing of any great importance," he insisted, his face even more pale than it usually was. "And it didn't require a significant amount of effort on my part. It was a simple matter of—"

"Quit being a tsundere and go get the present already!" Kay shouted. Miles gave her a horrified look as Phoenix snorted in his effort not to laugh.

"Not you, too," Miles grumbled as he slowly got up and disappeared into the breakroom. Kay laughed and high-fived Ema.

When Miles returned about thirty seconds later, he did so with an armful of very wide and thin paperbacks. Phoenix only knew of one kind of book that was shaped like that. And if he had to judge just by looking, the pile seemed to contain at least fifteen of those books.

"Is that... what I think it is?" Ema asked, her tone uncertain, like she didn't want to react too early just to be wrong.

"It's a difficult name to miss." Miles said this casually as he handed the stack off to  Maya. "And it's not the entirety of the collection, but we had quite a few of them. Elise was a bit of a trend for a couple of years, but has since faded into obscurity, so it's no surprise that her books would end up in a place like this."

"This... You really..."

Maya couldn't finish her sentence. She was pulling the books out of the pile and looking each one over, one at a time, occasionally flipping through pages. She rubbed her eyes a couple of times. It seemed she had trouble believing that what she was seeing was really there.

"...Most of them are about two girls that she's called Marie and Mimi. ...Sisters. And they both like art, along with their mother," Miles explained.

Maya's hands froze over one of those books in particular. Something about the cover stirred a reaction within her. Marie and Mimi and the Magic Vase. Before she could move on to another book, Miles carefully put his hands over hers, maneuvering them so that she opened the cover to its first page.

"Dedicated to my little angels, with love from far away," Maya read aloud in a near-whisper. Miles nodded.

Everyone allowed Maya a few minutes of silence to read through the whole book. She kept flipping back to one page in particular and biting her lip.

"...What's it about?" It was Ema who finally asked.

"The, um... The girls, Marie and Mimi. They break their mom's favorite vase, which she would say was a magic vase. It was really the little sister Mimi that did it, but Marie glued it back together for her and promised not to tell. Their mom figured it out, of course, but neither sister would sell out the other, so she forgives them both and says she's glad they weren't hurt and that they're more important to her than a vase. And then she explains that it was only magic because her husband made it for her with love in his heart before he went to heaven. So Marie and Mimi promise to make her another vase with even more magic in it."

Phoenix couldn't manage a proper reaction. It sounded... familiar.

"...Didn't you break some sacred urn or something when you were little? ...Mia told me that story," he recalled. Maya nodded.

"I was so little that I barely remember it at all... I broke it when I was playing, and Mia glued it together. I was really upset because I was always told that the urn contains our founder's spirit, and I thought I'd let her fly away, but Mom said that everything someone makes has their artistic spirit." Maya gently closed the book, clearly trying not to cry again. "...I still felt bad, so I made her an urn of my own. It was the first thing I ever made, and it's just terrible, but it's on this pedestal in her old studio anyway."

She wiped the corner of one eye with her thumb as she continued to rifle through the covers. Phoenix thought on the story that Mia had told him, and he felt like he was beginning to understand things.

"All of the Marie and Mimi books start with that dedication," Miles said quietly. "And... I think..." He trailed off. Maya gave him a curious look, which he seemed to take as permission to continue after clearing his throat. "...If I may, I should mention that I read most of them. They're obviously not very long. A-And it seems to me like... like Elise was trying to apologize for something. As if she was hoping that one of the books would reach you somehow, so that you would know she's never hated you."

Maya didn't meet Miles' eyes, but her cheeks turned pink. She finished her perusing of the books and straightened out the stack, putting them on the coffee table in front of her.

"Miles!" She clapped her hands and gave him a big smile. Phoenix saw him tense. This was definitely going to be good. "You found all of these for me? All by yourself?"

Miles flinched before he forced a shrug.

"It wasn't hard to do. I just had to skim some shelves. It only took me a few minutes."

That's definitely not true. And besides, you'd still have to pay for them all.

It was more likely that Miles had scoured their entire inventory and called up some of their regular donors. It had surely taken him no small amount of time, and perhaps no small amount of money either.

"You... You'd do something like that for me?"

Maya looked truly touched. Miles opened his mouth, his shoulders rigid, like he intended to deflect from the compliment in his usual way, but Maya's expression seemed to stop him in his tracks. He lowered his head and sighed.

"Of course," he retorted, like it should have been obvious.

"Why?"

"Because... I can sympathize, I suppose. I understand your situation on a very personal level."

"What... What do you mean?" Maya's brow furrowed.

Miles swallowed, and he glanced briefly at Phoenix before answering, a warning to stay quiet.

"I... might tell you about it someday. Hopefully someday soon. Just... Just not here, and not now, alright?"

"Okay, fine," Maya relented, and Miles looked relieved. Or, at least, he did until Maya slapped her hands against her legs and stood, a familiar gleam in her eye.

"Wh-What are you—"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You're not getting away from me this time."

Miles reacted instantly and backed away, taking refuge behind the couch. Ray knew exactly where this was headed. Miles pointed a finger at Maya, hoping it would make her stay where she was.

"Don't— I said it's no big deal! No touching!"

"Come here!"

"No! Leave me alone!"

At that, Miles ran away. Maya was hot on his heels.

"You're not gonna outrun her," Phoenix shouted. It was no use. The rest of his friends were laughing.

"I'm glad she liked it so much, anyway," Uncle Ray laughed. "He's lying. I'm sure you all figured that much out. He had to do some heavy lifting, sort through all of our stock, make some calls... Paid for them out of his own pocket, too."

"That's what I figured," Phoenix said. "Guy can't take a compliment."

Ray's next words were interrupted by some kind of a loud thud. He laughed and stood up.

"I'm... gonna go make sure he's okay... and that she hasn't destroyed any of my merchandise."

Phoenix took advantage of Ray's absence, and the now-empty couch, to take a seat and take the book that Maya had been flipping through. He found the page that she had returned to several times. When he saw the picture there, he immediately understood what had drawn her to it.

The picture was of two little girls, one crying hysterically while the other glued together pieces of a broken vase. He recognized the composition, their poses. Misty had taken a picture just like it. And Mia had always kept a copy of it on her person.

He closed the book when he saw the three missing people returning. Miles' hair was disheveled, and he was trying to clean his glasses. Maya must have literally tackled him. Ray had a comforting arm over his shoulder and laughed at how outwardly grouchy he looked. Maya seemed very pleased with herself.

"What do you have there, Nick?"

"O-Oh. I was just... I was just thinking about something..."

Everyone turned to look at him. Maya eyed the book in his hands before meeting his eyes, and with a bit of uncertainty.

"Yeah? About what?"

"Do you think... Do you think, maybe, we could go and see Pearls?"

Maya looked surprised, but also underwhelmed, and she shrugged.

"Sure, I don't see why not... If Larry doesn't mind driving."

"I don't mind," Larry answered, "but why do you ask?"

Phoenix smiled and held the book to his chest, making sure that Maya could tell which one it was.

"I was thinking we could read her a bedtime story."

Maya studied the cover, and then she studied her friend's face, and then she looked around at each and every other face in the room, and then, finally, she returned the smile, casting it down at the floor.

"Yeah," she agreed. "...I think she'd really like that."

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A/N: and thus we conclude "crying: the chapter". my original ao3 readers waited like five months for this and got it in two separate updates. :'D
i may alter the exact timelines and ages and shit later. everyone in ace attorney is way too young!! so don't pay too much attention to those details. anyway, next time we get some true romantic fluff, and we FINALLY figure out what the fuck is up with larry and his mommy issues (something that a few of you have definitely noticed and wondered about). Stay tuned!
(#GUMSHOENEEDSMORELOVE)