Yes, Leave it to Me!

Time for a Halloween event!

This is a non-canon event, separate from any timeline or story events going on. It's just for fun! A really lighthearted event with no consequences!

What do we mean when we say "Cast and Crew party"?

We've used a theater metaphor here for meta stuff before. The idea that the muses/characters are "putting on a play" and that anons are an "audience" watching and interacting. This is kind of an extension of that.

For this event, most of what we've seen is a play where the muses are actors playing themselves. Now, we're seeing a behind the scenes event! See what everyone's "really" like when they're not "on stage"!

(If you don't get it, that's fine, its mostly just something silly for a few of us muns. We're happy if you just sit back and enjoy our shenanigans, and really happy if you send in questions!)

Who exactly is participating?

Any blog in the group that reblogs this post can be considered "participating" and will engage however they see fit. (If any blogs outside of the group wanna interact our muns tend to be pretty open to that, but I'd recommend sending a quick hello and stuff first!) Oh, and anons, especially our regular anons, are welcomed! Questions and the like always make things easier for us!

Is this just a normal halloween party? You're not planning anything?

Hehehehehe.....

She made it up to the roof and found Eito's door. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently.

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | LATE EVENING | A SECOND DATE]]

Okay, alright. It was last minute, but things were going well.

His double had somehow gotten back to his timeline, and Kako had already made the move to meet with Sirei tonight. Darumi was keeping watch over Takumi, at least until it was time for them to make their move. Shouma was keeping watch by the Infirmary, and he himself had managed to send Nigou - gullible as he is - on a bit of a wild goose chase just outside the grounds. It was astonishing what you could convince him of, as long as you framed it as coming from Sirei.

And to boot, those embarrassing rabbit accessories had finally come off.

Ideally, he would have talked to Yugamu about removing the bomb in him. But unfortunately, time hadn't allowed that particular conversation. And for whatever reason, the guy had locked himself up in the Bio Lab. No huge loss - the way they were doing this, Sirei wouldn't even know WHO was striking him until it was too late; while setting off the bomb in time was entirely possible, and thoroughly unpleasant, there'd be no way he'd have time to remove their Revive-O-Matic data.

And with what he knew from Takumi-san, they'd be able to pull this off without damaging any critical memory or data. Which would be vital, in terms of rallying everyone in sparing this planet without airing out the time travel secret.

You're really doing this, then? Aren't you rushing things a bit?

"You know full well I can't abide that... thing, in the Infirmary," Eito replied aloud, a chill running down his spine just thinking about it, "And as such? I refuse to risk letting my Ugly Takumi fall victim to it."

'Your' Takumi, huh? You're both freaks, I swear. Well, whatever. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess. Just hope you know what you're doing.

He paced around as he went over things in his head one more time. Just a few more hours until the scheduled meeting. Any more prep to do...?

The doorbell rings. Who is it at this hour? Did Kako maybe succeed in getting ahold of Yugamu?

"Coming!" He chirps, in the bright and friendly manner most of the current SDU was familiar with.

He did not expect to see someone in a Leap Suit on the other side.

It would be best to ignore them, she decided. They couldn't last forever.

She took off the rest of the suit and crossed her arms. She could feel the ears twitch above her head and her tail swish back and forth. She had to fight not to blush.

There were still a few hours before his own plans would unfold. He could probably help her out.

There was an odd feeling in his mind...

"Takumi-san...?" He brought a hand to his head, a puzzled look on his face.

. . .

Was he... flustered?

"Huh," he brought his hand back down, shrugging with a bemused expression, "Well, it's certainly not what you came here for, Hiruko-san, but it appears you've left my annoying little headmate at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day. But, seriously. What can we help you with?"

The look on her face demanded he stop clowning around.

"But surely, that wouldn't be enough of a reason to risk jumping timelines, no? I assume the reason you're here is because you need some kind of specialized knowledge?" He sits down across from Hiruko on a soft cushion that he'd tucked under the coffee table.

Since welcoming the other three into his circle, and in general trying to do more for himself, his room had gotten filled with all sorts of new things that helped it look less like a room out of a hospital or institution, and more like an actual dorm someone lived in. Extra blankets and pillows in colors that reminded him of the nature he adored, the odd plush, plenty of potted plants, the terrarium for his snails and Jorm's enclosure, even evidence of attempts at new activities. It still smelled incredibly sterile, owing to Eito's aversion to strong smells, but overall, it was far more homey.

He was quite starting to like his room, actually.

Eito takes the note in hand and glances it over. He only had the vaguest idea as to what he might be looking at.

Ancient Futuran? But... it looks recently written...? Where in the world did this come from...?

"Well, Takumi-san seems to recognize this, and is utterly flabbergasted that you have such a thing," he says, "The script is ancient, but clearly, this was written very recently. Quite the mystery..."

She shook her head. She worried for the child. There were too many dangers for their groups to be interacting. Her people could get spooked. The Futurans may punish them for speaking to the invaders. Sirei could find out. It was best for children to stay where it was safe and far away from the war.

Eito clutched his head. He felt... tired. Overwhelmingly so, it was if his thoughts were being dragged underwater.

This was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling like this.

Takumi...?

"Ah... Hiru...ko... saaan... someth... hel..."

No, no...! He had to fight this, he wouldn't keep being controlled...!

It was as if something was unplugged in his mind; his eyes and expression went blank, and he went totally limp where he sat.

A marionette, with strings severed.

One arm twitches, then another, as eyelids flutter and he straightens up, posture notably different, rolling his shoulder as he meets eyes with Hiruko with a smile.

"Hello again, Hiruko," Takumi says, slightly apologetic, "Sorry, you had to see that. But I'm not really in the mood to play 'telephone' here. Plus... looking into a few things I'd rather not he know about, yet."

He stands up from the table, and moves over to the bed, getting down on his hands and knees and reaching under it. He finds the panel hes looking for, shifting it out of the way and removing a notebook and a small, airtight container, taking both back over to the table and seating himself next to Hiruko on the couch.

Takumi opens up the container, revealing several incerdibly old-looking scrolls, and flips open the notebook, and begins examining the note Hiruko had brought. The notebook was filled with similar symbols, along with more recognizable ones - Futuran language, in different iterations, as well as charts with their own Kanji, katakana, and hiragana, and letters from other languages as well. Normally, this kind of work would make Takumi want to throw himself off of the roof of the Academy, but he'd built up quite a bit of patience over the years and besides. He had SEVERAL mysteries to unravel.

He takes Hiruko's note in hand, flipping through his notebook and comparing, "This one... shouldn't take too long, I think. I recognize quite a few words here, already. From what I can tell, it seems more like a personal message, or... trying to make contact, than anything."

"Whomever that child is though... I don't know if we need to worry about them being in danger," says Takumi, as he tears a blank page out of the book and begins transcribing what he can, "As Aotsuki was saying before I interrupted? That same child appeared in our timeline to give us flowers as well. Both of us."

"I was planning on getting his input too." She remarked, but it wasn't a strong objection. "He might have an interesting perspective if we listened to him."

She was grateful for another opportunity to talk to Takumi though. Maybe one day conversations like these would be easier. And maybe the things they'd be able to do and say would be freer.

The very cute distraction that was a cat-eared Hiruko watching him so intently didn't make the translating go any faster.

It was a shame Eito was busy tonight. He'd love to spend more time with Hiruko. In general, not just tonight. It was one of the biggest issues with his current living situation, as it were.

He paused a minute to think about her question, tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook. Takumi hums in consideration a moment, before standing and heading over to Eito's desk and retrieving a worn book from the drawer. It was considerably more recent than the scrolls he'd retrieved earlier, and looked to be some sort of religious or history book. He returned to the couch, and began flipping through the pages.

"Not specifically, and while Dahl'xia does love his history and is incredibly dedicated to his faith, the man's love really seems to be the stories that get passed around after the fact. Folk tales and legends, myths and stuff," he responds, slowing down once he'd reached a certain section, "But something that stuck out to me was the idea that as wild or embellished as a lot of those stories could be, there was usually some little grain of truth in them. That's part of why I don't completely count them out when looking for information."

It actually brought to mind something he heard from his very first Eito. It was a story about some massive statues that had been moved from one place to another a very long time ago on Earth, and the historians or whatever studying them had no idea how the ancient people managed it. Upon asking the native people, they were told a story about how the statues simply 'walked' there; and while that was what their legends stated, the truth wasn't that far off - they'd tied ropes to the heads of the statues, and using teams of people rocked them back and forth to effectively 'walk' them to their destination.

The answer was right in front of them, but the perspective was completely dismissed because of the source and how the information got passed down over the centuries.

Eventually, he stopped at what appeared to be a print of a painting in the book, and turned showed it to Hiruko, "Did the design of the mask look anything like this?"

The painting in the photo depicted a mature feminine figure, clothed in simple robes and holding a small handful of florals - blooddrops, arnica, yarrow, sage... and an unknown flower that seemed to radiate a silver glow. She was surrounded by what looked to be sick and wounded, a leper whose hand she held appeared to be healing from the touch alone. The scene had them set in some kind of shrine in deep forest.

Her tail flicked back and forth lazily as he worked. She...really would have preferred to come without it. She wondered how much longer she'd be stuck like this. Was fixing it another mission she was going to have to go on?

"I suppose stories do tend to have some truth to them; still, too often they seem to lead to chasing shadows and bad endings." Maybe it was a bitter take from her, especially since she seemed to be doing the same again. But it seemed every time they started digging into the local myths and legends, things always went wrong. Maybe it was safer if she was doing it on her own, but she really wanted to keep the team out of this.

She was dragged out of her sullen thoughts by the painting. The mask of course stood out, but she couldn't help but wonder more about their seemingly healing touch. It was possibly a metaphor, but more likely this figure was someone extremely powerful.

"A cult would be unlikely, in this case," he says, taking the book back and glaring holes into a conspicuously open, empty spot behind the figure in the portrait, "For one, I don't think any cult worshipping a Paragon would recreate their masks for their own use. If there's one thing I've learned, its that they take that SUPER seriously. It's never the same design, and you'd better not recreate it for yourself.

"Second, a cult would be... really redundant here. Ama-Sephia is one of the most widely-revered historical Paragons. Supposedly, one of the very first to gain their power from their 'God'; the first 'Paragon of Nature', and often referred to as 'The First Healer' as well. You'd have a hard time finding a Futuran that DIDN'T venerate her, to some degree."

He trusted Hiruko enough to voice his concerns here. There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. No strokes of bad luck. It was all intentional, all designed. What once was one became two, became shattered, and must be one again. The cycle repeats, again and again, until made whole. The Blood that binds will ascend them all, no more pain, no more danger. It ends forever.

He refused to let that happen. That wasn't the protection, or the ending he'd wanted...!

Takumi remembered. All of it.

He swallowed thickly, becoming aware of the sweat on his brow as he steadied himself, suppressing the power that threatened to tear Eito's body to shreds.

She looked at him seriously, her eyes filled with worry.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no...

"S-sorry, agh, just. Gimme a minute," Takumi said between breaths, squeezing her hands reassuringly, "I'm- I'm fine, now. Promise."

Fine as he could be, at any rate.

He could tell Hiruko some of it. At the very least, to ease her mind. She'd understand if he didn't want to get into all of it now, surely.

He removed Eito's glasses. It wasn't like they were the correct prescription; right now it was only contributing to the headache.

"I... when chasing that line of thought, I just... remembered something. A lot of things, actually. And... well. Put plainly, I've been suppressing my hemoanima by... Quite a lot. Eito's body can't quite handle it," it was the truth, or at least partially, "It was enough to shake me, and... I lost control, for a second. I don't want it to cause him more harm than it already has."

He pulled his hands away, shakily returning to the task at hand.

"Alright." She agreed to move on, but promised herself she'd think more on Takumi's situation later. "If the masks are as important as you say, I'm willing to rule out reincarnation as well. Unless everyone around here knows she's the reincarnation and has accepted that, they likely still wouldn't allow a duplicate mask, correct?

"Which leaves, unfortunately, a ghost. I'm...willing to say that she's a 'real ghost', whatever that means to us, because she has appeared to multiple of us. She can also interact with real objects. But if Ama-Sephia lived to adulthood, why is she a child?"

Takumi realized he was getting slightly off-topic.

Reincarnation... He supposed such a thing wasn't impossible. But...

It was also fully possible that she never really 'died', not fully. And if that were the case...

"With hemoanima... I suppose anything is possible. But we probably won't know unless she contacts us again," he sighs, "Unfortunately... the note doesn't tell us much. Seems to be a personal message."

He hands the note and transcription back to Hiruko.

'I am sorry I seem odd. I mean no harm. You Star Children are all strange, but you want to help everyone, not just yourselves. I wanted to thank you. I am sorry I cannot speak the words to say this with heart.'

The note only served to remind her why people felt so cautious around her. The rest of her team had happily accepted the gifts the child had offered, but she turned them down. She could only see danger, for her team and for them. Even still, she couldn't quite think she was wrong. If she'd had more information maybe she could act differently, but a child coming up to her with flowers was suspicious. People use children for evil things. Children are vulnerable and impressionable, too easily lead astray.

But then again, given what he knew... Well.

"I'd imagine you're right. Like I said, she approached myself and Aotsuki before, no reason to think she wouldn't again. Here, or in your timeline," he replies, noting how the very distracting cat tail and ears twitched slightly as she sat there. He was pretty sure that meant she was upset about something.

As much as he has... a bit of a thing for kemonomimi, he wasn't exactly the most skilled with animals or reading them.

All of the joy and pride, relief, progress. Happiness. Having it all ripped out from under him and burned to ash, leaving only pure, unyielding fury and despair. Feelings that brought him to where and what he was now.

It hung bitter on his tongue. He should be enjoying Hiruko's teasing. But with remembrance came the guilt. She wasn't his Hiruko. That was someone... he couldn't go back to. Not with things the way they are now.

"So then, I imagine that's the extent of what we'll get on that subject for now, unless you have more to share? If not, would you be ready to help me solve Poe's riddle? Or...is there something you'd like to talk about first, before Aotsuki 'gets back' so to say?"

She wanted him to open up to her. He wasn't sure how much he could.

"Man," he sighs, resigned, "I don't get to keep much from you, do I? I mean, not like you're twisting my arm, but..."

Maybe... just a bit. If anyone could understand his... frustration, it'd be Hiruko. He didn't have to tell her everything. Just what was lost, before his story started again.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It'd been quite some time since he'd been this nervous.

"We had... talked before, about something... or somethings messing with us. Your ability to speak freely, and my memories," he starts, "And... Only just now, did I remember some... important ones. Very important.

"I think I got close before, back with Sumino-kun and Vee. Kind of like something was trying to wiggle its way into place, but I couldn't quite get it. But I had the thought of, 'wait, didn't I get out of the timeloop?' And it stuck with me."

Takumi waited a moment, hesitating. A heart clad in armor was difficult to lay bare. But he decided not to back down.

"It... Well. I was right. I did escape the loop. After... shit, decades, we all got out. Survived. Stayed on the planet, fought and eventually helped forge peace between the Futuran people down here and the humans up on the Satellite. V'ehxness was taken care of, and the humans heading the Exodus Project were on track to answer for their crimes. People from both sides were resettling and rebuilding a world we could all move forward on," he was only vaguely aware of the slight climb in his voice's volume, the slightest tremble as his anger and grief threatened to break loose, "Twenty years. It'd been twenty years since we got out of the Academy. Got out of that... stupid timeloop. We'd finally been able to... to stop fighting, at least like this. We - my Hiruko, and I - we'd... We were starting a family. We'd had a kid, and...just, fuck..."

He needed to compose himself, now. He couldn't start crying, not in Eito's body. And couldn't let himself lose control again. Unclench his fists, deep breaths.

"It'd been... five years since the peace treaty was signed. Folks were out celebrating, and some jackasses that weren't happy about that took advantage. Assassinations, mass attacks. That was all it took for all that hard work to start blowing up. Friends and family, so many of them dead. I... I lost it," he was keeping his tone measured, being careful with his choice of words, "Something... happened, with Bloodspace. That - thing - that was messing with my memories. And I ended up back at the Academy. Just before day 2. Starting over. Each loop after, ending the same as the last - failure. Because of that thing."

He left out the part where that was his fault, too. He didn't need anyone getting any ideas. Not when he'd seen the consequences firsthand.

Was she jealous of the version of herself who had escaped? Who had gotten to live twenty years outside of the time loop, more than she herself ever had? Who had gotten to grow and age in ways she was seemingly not allowed to?

Or should she grieve her? She was a mother, a leader in the fight for peace, clearly a valued partner. If it were not another version of Hiruko herself, she would say she seemed like an amazing woman. And she could see how much losing her- and their child- clearly broke Takumi. She grieved for him, if nothing else.

And she pushed away the gnawing, shameful voice that spoke in the back of her head that said when he looked at her, he was only seeing the woman he lost. And she could never be her. And she would never be good enough.

"Sorry," he apologized, his gaze shifting downwards, "I... It's a lot to take in. I realize it's... probably awkward, and I probably shouldn't have unloaded on you. Even if we are a lot closer in... 'age', I guess, than the others, I shouldn't be dragging you down with my baggage. Your future probably won't be the same, so..."

Part of him honestly considered just flinging Eito back into the driver's seat to remove himself from the situation. But that wouldn't really solve anything, and would just create another weird situation for him to patch up.

A warning then.

"Best tip I can offer? When you guys get out of this?" He straightens up, and there's a coldness in his eyes and his voice that only scarcely reflected the grief and fury that ran like ice under his skin, "No matter how the dust settles? All of those researchers and scientists on the Satellite? The ones down here involved with creating V'ehxness's little 'Battle Pets'? If they refuse to come to heel? Try to flee trial or judgement? Don't waste time. Just put them down like the beasts they are. Hell, I'll give you a damn list. As long as they don't escape. Or at the very least, destroy anything they were already working on."

He knew it probably wouldn't be as simple as that. Hiruko, as hotblooded and impulsive as she could be, was usually smarter than him. Maybe she or her timeline's Eito would have better ideas. He seemed smart enough, assuming they can get him to pull his head out of his ass.

Another pressing silence, before he spoke up again.

She made it up to the roof and found Eito's door. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently.

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | LATE EVENING | A SECOND DATE]]

Okay, alright. It was last minute, but things were going well.

His double had somehow gotten back to his timeline, and Kako had already made the move to meet with Sirei tonight. Darumi was keeping watch over Takumi, at least until it was time for them to make their move. Shouma was keeping watch by the Infirmary, and he himself had managed to send Nigou - gullible as he is - on a bit of a wild goose chase just outside the grounds. It was astonishing what you could convince him of, as long as you framed it as coming from Sirei.

And to boot, those embarrassing rabbit accessories had finally come off.

Ideally, he would have talked to Yugamu about removing the bomb in him. But unfortunately, time hadn't allowed that particular conversation. And for whatever reason, the guy had locked himself up in the Bio Lab. No huge loss - the way they were doing this, Sirei wouldn't even know WHO was striking him until it was too late; while setting off the bomb in time was entirely possible, and thoroughly unpleasant, there'd be no way he'd have time to remove their Revive-O-Matic data.

And with what he knew from Takumi-san, they'd be able to pull this off without damaging any critical memory or data. Which would be vital, in terms of rallying everyone in sparing this planet without airing out the time travel secret.

You're really doing this, then? Aren't you rushing things a bit?

"You know full well I can't abide that... thing, in the Infirmary," Eito replied aloud, a chill running down his spine just thinking about it, "And as such? I refuse to risk letting my Ugly Takumi fall victim to it."

'Your' Takumi, huh? You're both freaks, I swear. Well, whatever. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess. Just hope you know what you're doing.

He paced around as he went over things in his head one more time. Just a few more hours until the scheduled meeting. Any more prep to do...?

The doorbell rings. Who is it at this hour? Did Kako maybe succeed in getting ahold of Yugamu?

"Coming!" He chirps, in the bright and friendly manner most of the current SDU was familiar with.

He did not expect to see someone in a Leap Suit on the other side.

It would be best to ignore them, she decided. They couldn't last forever.

She took off the rest of the suit and crossed her arms. She could feel the ears twitch above her head and her tail swish back and forth. She had to fight not to blush.

There were still a few hours before his own plans would unfold. He could probably help her out.

There was an odd feeling in his mind...

"Takumi-san...?" He brought a hand to his head, a puzzled look on his face.

. . .

Was he... flustered?

"Huh," he brought his hand back down, shrugging with a bemused expression, "Well, it's certainly not what you came here for, Hiruko-san, but it appears you've left my annoying little headmate at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day. But, seriously. What can we help you with?"

The look on her face demanded he stop clowning around.

"But surely, that wouldn't be enough of a reason to risk jumping timelines, no? I assume the reason you're here is because you need some kind of specialized knowledge?" He sits down across from Hiruko on a soft cushion that he'd tucked under the coffee table.

Since welcoming the other three into his circle, and in general trying to do more for himself, his room had gotten filled with all sorts of new things that helped it look less like a room out of a hospital or institution, and more like an actual dorm someone lived in. Extra blankets and pillows in colors that reminded him of the nature he adored, the odd plush, plenty of potted plants, the terrarium for his snails and Jorm's enclosure, even evidence of attempts at new activities. It still smelled incredibly sterile, owing to Eito's aversion to strong smells, but overall, it was far more homey.

He was quite starting to like his room, actually.

Eito takes the note in hand and glances it over. He only had the vaguest idea as to what he might be looking at.

Ancient Futuran? But... it looks recently written...? Where in the world did this come from...?

"Well, Takumi-san seems to recognize this, and is utterly flabbergasted that you have such a thing," he says, "The script is ancient, but clearly, this was written very recently. Quite the mystery..."

She shook her head. She worried for the child. There were too many dangers for their groups to be interacting. Her people could get spooked. The Futurans may punish them for speaking to the invaders. Sirei could find out. It was best for children to stay where it was safe and far away from the war.

Eito clutched his head. He felt... tired. Overwhelmingly so, it was if his thoughts were being dragged underwater.

This was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling like this.

Takumi...?

"Ah... Hiru...ko... saaan... someth... hel..."

No, no...! He had to fight this, he wouldn't keep being controlled...!

It was as if something was unplugged in his mind; his eyes and expression went blank, and he went totally limp where he sat.

A marionette, with strings severed.

One arm twitches, then another, as eyelids flutter and he straightens up, posture notably different, rolling his shoulder as he meets eyes with Hiruko with a smile.

"Hello again, Hiruko," Takumi says, slightly apologetic, "Sorry, you had to see that. But I'm not really in the mood to play 'telephone' here. Plus... looking into a few things I'd rather not he know about, yet."

He stands up from the table, and moves over to the bed, getting down on his hands and knees and reaching under it. He finds the panel hes looking for, shifting it out of the way and removing a notebook and a small, airtight container, taking both back over to the table and seating himself next to Hiruko on the couch.

Takumi opens up the container, revealing several incerdibly old-looking scrolls, and flips open the notebook, and begins examining the note Hiruko had brought. The notebook was filled with similar symbols, along with more recognizable ones - Futuran language, in different iterations, as well as charts with their own Kanji, katakana, and hiragana, and letters from other languages as well. Normally, this kind of work would make Takumi want to throw himself off of the roof of the Academy, but he'd built up quite a bit of patience over the years and besides. He had SEVERAL mysteries to unravel.

He takes Hiruko's note in hand, flipping through his notebook and comparing, "This one... shouldn't take too long, I think. I recognize quite a few words here, already. From what I can tell, it seems more like a personal message, or... trying to make contact, than anything."

"Whomever that child is though... I don't know if we need to worry about them being in danger," says Takumi, as he tears a blank page out of the book and begins transcribing what he can, "As Aotsuki was saying before I interrupted? That same child appeared in our timeline to give us flowers as well. Both of us."

"I was planning on getting his input too." She remarked, but it wasn't a strong objection. "He might have an interesting perspective if we listened to him."

She was grateful for another opportunity to talk to Takumi though. Maybe one day conversations like these would be easier. And maybe the things they'd be able to do and say would be freer.

The very cute distraction that was a cat-eared Hiruko watching him so intently didn't make the translating go any faster.

It was a shame Eito was busy tonight. He'd love to spend more time with Hiruko. In general, not just tonight. It was one of the biggest issues with his current living situation, as it were.

He paused a minute to think about her question, tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook. Takumi hums in consideration a moment, before standing and heading over to Eito's desk and retrieving a worn book from the drawer. It was considerably more recent than the scrolls he'd retrieved earlier, and looked to be some sort of religious or history book. He returned to the couch, and began flipping through the pages.

"Not specifically, and while Dahl'xia does love his history and is incredibly dedicated to his faith, the man's love really seems to be the stories that get passed around after the fact. Folk tales and legends, myths and stuff," he responds, slowing down once he'd reached a certain section, "But something that stuck out to me was the idea that as wild or embellished as a lot of those stories could be, there was usually some little grain of truth in them. That's part of why I don't completely count them out when looking for information."

It actually brought to mind something he heard from his very first Eito. It was a story about some massive statues that had been moved from one place to another a very long time ago on Earth, and the historians or whatever studying them had no idea how the ancient people managed it. Upon asking the native people, they were told a story about how the statues simply 'walked' there; and while that was what their legends stated, the truth wasn't that far off - they'd tied ropes to the heads of the statues, and using teams of people rocked them back and forth to effectively 'walk' them to their destination.

The answer was right in front of them, but the perspective was completely dismissed because of the source and how the information got passed down over the centuries.

Eventually, he stopped at what appeared to be a print of a painting in the book, and turned showed it to Hiruko, "Did the design of the mask look anything like this?"

The painting in the photo depicted a mature feminine figure, clothed in simple robes and holding a small handful of florals - blooddrops, arnica, yarrow, sage... and an unknown flower that seemed to radiate a silver glow. She was surrounded by what looked to be sick and wounded, a leper whose hand she held appeared to be healing from the touch alone. The scene had them set in some kind of shrine in deep forest.

Her tail flicked back and forth lazily as he worked. She...really would have preferred to come without it. She wondered how much longer she'd be stuck like this. Was fixing it another mission she was going to have to go on?

"I suppose stories do tend to have some truth to them; still, too often they seem to lead to chasing shadows and bad endings." Maybe it was a bitter take from her, especially since she seemed to be doing the same again. But it seemed every time they started digging into the local myths and legends, things always went wrong. Maybe it was safer if she was doing it on her own, but she really wanted to keep the team out of this.

She was dragged out of her sullen thoughts by the painting. The mask of course stood out, but she couldn't help but wonder more about their seemingly healing touch. It was possibly a metaphor, but more likely this figure was someone extremely powerful.

"A cult would be unlikely, in this case," he says, taking the book back and glaring holes into a conspicuously open, empty spot behind the figure in the portrait, "For one, I don't think any cult worshipping a Paragon would recreate their masks for their own use. If there's one thing I've learned, its that they take that SUPER seriously. It's never the same design, and you'd better not recreate it for yourself.

"Second, a cult would be... really redundant here. Ama-Sephia is one of the most widely-revered historical Paragons. Supposedly, one of the very first to gain their power from their 'God'; the first 'Paragon of Nature', and often referred to as 'The First Healer' as well. You'd have a hard time finding a Futuran that DIDN'T venerate her, to some degree."

He trusted Hiruko enough to voice his concerns here. There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. No strokes of bad luck. It was all intentional, all designed. What once was one became two, became shattered, and must be one again. The cycle repeats, again and again, until made whole. The Blood that binds will ascend them all, no more pain, no more danger. It ends forever.

He refused to let that happen. That wasn't the protection, or the ending he'd wanted...!

Takumi remembered. All of it.

He swallowed thickly, becoming aware of the sweat on his brow as he steadied himself, suppressing the power that threatened to tear Eito's body to shreds.

She looked at him seriously, her eyes filled with worry.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no...

"S-sorry, agh, just. Gimme a minute," Takumi said between breaths, squeezing her hands reassuringly, "I'm- I'm fine, now. Promise."

Fine as he could be, at any rate.

He could tell Hiruko some of it. At the very least, to ease her mind. She'd understand if he didn't want to get into all of it now, surely.

He removed Eito's glasses. It wasn't like they were the correct prescription; right now it was only contributing to the headache.

"I... when chasing that line of thought, I just... remembered something. A lot of things, actually. And... well. Put plainly, I've been suppressing my hemoanima by... Quite a lot. Eito's body can't quite handle it," it was the truth, or at least partially, "It was enough to shake me, and... I lost control, for a second. I don't want it to cause him more harm than it already has."

He pulled his hands away, shakily returning to the task at hand.

"Alright." She agreed to move on, but promised herself she'd think more on Takumi's situation later. "If the masks are as important as you say, I'm willing to rule out reincarnation as well. Unless everyone around here knows she's the reincarnation and has accepted that, they likely still wouldn't allow a duplicate mask, correct?

"Which leaves, unfortunately, a ghost. I'm...willing to say that she's a 'real ghost', whatever that means to us, because she has appeared to multiple of us. She can also interact with real objects. But if Ama-Sephia lived to adulthood, why is she a child?"

Takumi realized he was getting slightly off-topic.

Reincarnation... He supposed such a thing wasn't impossible. But...

It was also fully possible that she never really 'died', not fully. And if that were the case...

"With hemoanima... I suppose anything is possible. But we probably won't know unless she contacts us again," he sighs, "Unfortunately... the note doesn't tell us much. Seems to be a personal message."

He hands the note and transcription back to Hiruko.

'I am sorry I seem odd. I mean no harm. You Star Children are all strange, but you want to help everyone, not just yourselves. I wanted to thank you. I am sorry I cannot speak the words to say this with heart.'

The note only served to remind her why people felt so cautious around her. The rest of her team had happily accepted the gifts the child had offered, but she turned them down. She could only see danger, for her team and for them. Even still, she couldn't quite think she was wrong. If she'd had more information maybe she could act differently, but a child coming up to her with flowers was suspicious. People use children for evil things. Children are vulnerable and impressionable, too easily lead astray.

But then again, given what he knew... Well.

"I'd imagine you're right. Like I said, she approached myself and Aotsuki before, no reason to think she wouldn't again. Here, or in your timeline," he replies, noting how the very distracting cat tail and ears twitched slightly as she sat there. He was pretty sure that meant she was upset about something.

As much as he has... a bit of a thing for kemonomimi, he wasn't exactly the most skilled with animals or reading them.

All of the joy and pride, relief, progress. Happiness. Having it all ripped out from under him and burned to ash, leaving only pure, unyielding fury and despair. Feelings that brought him to where and what he was now.

It hung bitter on his tongue. He should be enjoying Hiruko's teasing. But with remembrance came the guilt. She wasn't his Hiruko. That was someone... he couldn't go back to. Not with things the way they are now.

"So then, I imagine that's the extent of what we'll get on that subject for now, unless you have more to share? If not, would you be ready to help me solve Poe's riddle? Or...is there something you'd like to talk about first, before Aotsuki 'gets back' so to say?"

She wanted him to open up to her. He wasn't sure how much he could.

"Man," he sighs, resigned, "I don't get to keep much from you, do I? I mean, not like you're twisting my arm, but..."

Maybe... just a bit. If anyone could understand his... frustration, it'd be Hiruko. He didn't have to tell her everything. Just what was lost, before his story started again.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It'd been quite some time since he'd been this nervous.

"We had... talked before, about something... or somethings messing with us. Your ability to speak freely, and my memories," he starts, "And... Only just now, did I remember some... important ones. Very important.

"I think I got close before, back with Sumino-kun and Vee. Kind of like something was trying to wiggle its way into place, but I couldn't quite get it. But I had the thought of, 'wait, didn't I get out of the timeloop?' And it stuck with me."

Takumi waited a moment, hesitating. A heart clad in armor was difficult to lay bare. But he decided not to back down.

"It... Well. I was right. I did escape the loop. After... shit, decades, we all got out. Survived. Stayed on the planet, fought and eventually helped forge peace between the Futuran people down here and the humans up on the Satellite. V'ehxness was taken care of, and the humans heading the Exodus Project were on track to answer for their crimes. People from both sides were resettling and rebuilding a world we could all move forward on," he was only vaguely aware of the slight climb in his voice's volume, the slightest tremble as his anger and grief threatened to break loose, "Twenty years. It'd been twenty years since we got out of the Academy. Got out of that... stupid timeloop. We'd finally been able to... to stop fighting, at least like this. We - my Hiruko, and I - we'd... We were starting a family. We'd had a kid, and...just, fuck..."

He needed to compose himself, now. He couldn't start crying, not in Eito's body. And couldn't let himself lose control again. Unclench his fists, deep breaths.

"It'd been... five years since the peace treaty was signed. Folks were out celebrating, and some jackasses that weren't happy about that took advantage. Assassinations, mass attacks. That was all it took for all that hard work to start blowing up. Friends and family, so many of them dead. I... I lost it," he was keeping his tone measured, being careful with his choice of words, "Something... happened, with Bloodspace. That - thing - that was messing with my memories. And I ended up back at the Academy. Just before day 2. Starting over. Each loop after, ending the same as the last - failure. Because of that thing."

He left out the part where that was his fault, too. He didn't need anyone getting any ideas. Not when he'd seen the consequences firsthand.

"Hey, Eito... you're good with languages and stuff, right?" He asked shyly.

@teamleader-takumi

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | NIGHT | A SECOND NOTE]]

Eito had just seen the other timeline's Hiruko off, checking the time. Good, still had quite a bit of time. He was surprised the translation effort went as smoothly as it did, with having to relay information between the two...

Something in his mind nagged about that not quite being right-

He blinked... wait... what... wasn't right...?

He was interrupted by yet another inter-timeline visitor. With another note. What was going on over there? Would they be getting notes too?

"Mmmhm," he says, welcoming the other timeline's Takumi into his room and locking the door behind him, "Clearly, I'm on everyone's minds tonight. Any particular reason you and Hiruko-san chose to approach me separately on this matter?"

He looked over the note Takumi was holding. It sure was the same kind of writing he didn't quite understand. But... Takumi-san did.

He huffed a little in frustration. At least this note was a LOT shorter.

"Well, unfortunately for me, I'm actually pretty useless when it comes to ancient Futuran," he shrugs, somewhat dramatically, "Alas, my only use here is going to be acting as a mouthpiece for horrible Takumi-san, since he's the one with the actual knowledge. Thankfully, this note is much shorter than Hiruko-san's so it shouldn't run into my later... engagement..."

He felt... dizzy. Didn't he feel this way earlier?

A flash of memory. Oh no, no no not...

Ugly, wretched, vile, duplicitous Takumi, liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor...

Eito's breath hitched, as he gripped his hair and shivered, before going limp, collapsing sideways onto the bed. His eyes were half-lidded and vacant, like his mind had been forcibly shut down.

A twitch, a few blinks, and he slowly raised himself off of the bed and wordlessly got down to the floor, fishing something out from a secret compartment hidden under the bed - some kind of airtight container, and a messily-annotated notebook.

His movements and posture made it clear it wasn't Eito.

It was his other self.

"...Why..." he whispered, his eyes filled with pain and terror. This pain he was feeling, it wasn't his. No, it wasn't his- it was Eito's. The feeling of being controlled, the one thing Eito feared most. It consumed him, his body shivering and shaking as he took a step back.

Well. No matter. He sits himself back down on the bed and begins working, tearing out a blank page from the book and writing on it as he flips between his book and the note.

"Like I said," he replies, flipping through the notebook, glancing between it and the note, "I'm not exactly fluent. I need my notes, and I have some things in my research I don't want Aotsuki knowing about."

Part of him wanted to say he didn't get it, but that was a lie. He knew his other self was concerned about Eito's agency, here. Truthfully, he didn't like it either. But it's not like he had much of a choice. Just an unfortunate reality of their situation.

"Thankfully, yours is MUCH shorter, and the information is still fresh in my mind. I shouldn't be long; I'll give control back to Aotsuki, and as far as he'll remember, we just communicated back and forth to get this done."

"Don't you trust him?" he asked quietly, watching his other self from afar. He refused to move closer, and he couldn't will himself to move away. "Wouldn't it be better to work together with him? He's so smart... and he's trying so hard to help this time..."

His own words made him think of his Eito. Of the information Takumi himself hiding from him. But, despite how similar that was in principle, it was different. Takumi wasn't hiding it willingly. No, there were so many times where he nearly came out and blurted the whole truth to Eito. He wanted the other to know so bad, he wanted to show how much he was willing to help Eito heal and work together with him, but- but-

Something kept holding him back. Something foreign. Something outside his control.

He had been wondering this to himself for a while, never bringing it up to the others, never wanting to actively think about it. But, he had been wondering just... just how much of his actions were his own? There had been so many powerful beings controlling him, actively making themselves known to him, but what if there were beings that kept themselves hidden? A puppeteer with invisible strings wrapped around Takumi's whole body, forcing him to move in ways he didn't want to.

Maybe that's why he had been so complicit in everything up until now.

But...

"Trust... is an odd thing with Aotsuki," he replies, choosing his words carefully, "He can be fickle, and vindictive. And likes to take risks, with that luck of his. And while yes, he IS smart... Some of the things I'm looking into could... Distract him, or make him spiral back into old habits, for lack of a tactful way of saying it."

Basically, shit could make him go crazy again, or DO something exceptionally stupid or crazy. Like HE did, back then.

He should never have connected.

"And the fact that he's working so hard is part of it, too," he says, and means it, "I don't want him to lose sight of the changes he's achieved, and I don't want to add more to the already-huge workload he's dealing with. My problems can stay my problems, and I can do the legwork as far as finding a way to cure what's going on with his body. He can focus on helping this timeline's Sumino-san get through the 100 Days."

"Then... can't you at least communicate with him what you're doing?" He then asked, "Maybe figure out a system so he doesn't have to worry about losing time. So you don't have to change his memories. It just- it just feels wrong."

All he could think of were the memories he experienced from his Eito. The pain and suffering. The empty nights alone and scared. Not knowing when the monsters were coming back or what they were planning next. That's why he was trying to hard to win over his Eito's trust. Why he was putting so much effort into caring for him. Because no one else ever did, and that-

Takumi sighed, "Believe it or not, it was one of the first things that came up in discussions, once he became aware of me being here," he replied, looking up from his notes at the younger Takumi.

If the younger Takumi were paying attention, he'd notice the older one inhabiting Eito's body seemed even more tired and worn than usual, his eyes reflecting age that went beyond what he may have claimed before.

Why were humans so greedy? Why couldn't they leave well alone? Why did they have to escalate things? None of this was fair.

It wasn't fair.

He felt like he was being scolded by his father or a teacher, sitting in his little seat while his other self sifted through papers. Like he had done something wrong. Like he was a child.

Well, he was a child. 17 was still not legally an adult, which would mean he would be considered a minor. Though, law hardly mattered on a battlefield with magic blood powers.

He thought back to the little girl who handed him the flowers and the note that brought him here in the first place, something to distract him from all the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. Her mask... it looked familiar, like he had seen it before. But, it didn't match any of the commanders' masks. So then-

The statue.

It was the same mask as the statue they saw when his other self saved those Futuran kids. Eito also said the note was written in ancient Futuran. Could the girl be from the past?

He passes the note and translation back to the other Takumi.

'You are the leader of the Star Children? I sense great kindness. Why does the blood of Our Home flow through you? I wish to understand.'

"Between this and Hiruko's note, it seems like this entity is trying to gauge whether we're truly a threat or not, and figure out our connection to Futurum," he says, closing his notebook, "Which... I mean. You, me, and Hiruko know. But I'm sure it would seem strange for invaders from the sky to have the power of what's supposed to be this world's God."

"Yeah... her mask looked the exact same," he explained in hushed tones, "But she was too young..."

The image of the little girl appeared in his mind's eye, then the image of the statue. Same mask, but different ages. He wondered if she was possibly a ghost, but the items she handed him were very real and very tangible.

How much of his own theories could he reasonably share?

"Well, remember the story I brought up with those kids earlier? Could be... some kind of envoy? Though unless it were really possible for mortals to become gods, or something close to it, that'd be unlikely. Considering Ama-Sophia's been dead for... five, six thousand years? Give or take?" Takumi suggested, trying to sound incredulous. Truthfully, it wasn't impossible, but...

Did she still exist in that place? Or were there places outside of it where such things could exist?

He shifted gears, ready to put out another theory. He didn't want this Takumi to look too far into these things. Far too risky.

Shifting his position, slouching a bit and resting his chin on his hand, he continued languidly, "Though... not sure they'd wear the same mask. Unless, of course, she predates that rule. Another thought is she COULD be some sort of... hemoanima echo. Every living thing on this planet contains SOME measure of cryptoglobin, it's not completely out there to think she's something left of a really devoted follower, or maybe a younger echo of Ama-Sephia herself..."

After all, he himself was now considered "immortal" thanks to Vee.

Speaking of Vee, Takumi hadn't heard or seen the strange spirit in a while. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and was trying to keep it to himself so no one worried, but lately, his neck was starting to itch again. A familiar itching, like how it felt when the wound first healed after Vee revived him. He didn't mention to anyone about the strange bouts of vertigo he was experiencing sometimes, or how he would get a tickle in his throat.

He couldn't worry everyone with it. They all had enough on their plates as it was, and he was supposed to be their leader. If their leader started to falter, everything would collapse.

"Gives me leads and references, something to talk about and build trust with the locals. Works out for Eito, too. He hasn't talked about it much, but he wants to try to get everyone to rally behind the people down here, instead of the satellite," Takumi smiles a bit, genuinely proud of how far his old friend and nemesis has come. He didn't even notice his slip-up, "And while he... well. He still hates humanity. But he seems to have come around to the idea that... maybe they can learn and aren't beyond hope."

He sits back down on the bed and smiles at his younger self. He knew how sad and disappointed he must be with him, the man he'd become. He had no idea how selfish and wretched he really was.

He realized perhaps a brief explanation was in order.

"Ama-Sephia was one of the first of the Paragons, and pretty rightly one of the most revered. In addition to her attunement with nature and receiving the Divine Blood, she was said to be a miraculous healer," he starts, laying the groundwork, "But another part of her story is her older brother, Dammuz. But... that's where it gets strange. Because aside from a few key points? Almost no records of the guy remain. It seems to be some unspoken rule to not even depict him.

"Okay, I can do that," he nodded. Here's to hoping that the flower girl could understand him, at least.

After a slight pause, he asked, "May I speak to Eito now? I wanted to hear his opinion on all of this."

He smiled at the other, taking a minute to go over the conversation and events in his head; what parts Eito needed to remember, and what parts would be redacted, "And... of course. I'll see you later, Sumino-kun."

Though he didn't collapse this time, the expression on Eito's face went blank, eyes glazing over. Almost trancelike, as the events of the evening were molded and shaped in his mind, concealing his headmate's machinations and control.

He blinks a few times, and the spark of consciousness returns to his eyes.

"I-" his voice barely managed to squeak out. At first, he thought it was because of his anxiety, but, then he tried again.

"I-I think... I..."

He was losing his voice.

He needed to leave. Now.

Takumi quickly stood up out of his seat.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying prone on the carpet, unsure of what just happened. How did he end up on the floor? What was he doing, again? He slowly blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the strange fog that enveloped his head.

His brow furrowed in concern as Takumi got to his feet, clearly in a hurry. Eito started to get up himself, "Takumi-kun? Are you al-"

But he didn't get to finish his question before gasping in shock as Takumi started to crumple to the floor. Eito lunged forward to catch him, gagging and reflexively covering his mouth as proximity intensified the smell of rotting flesh and overwhelming florals, phantom needles grazing against his cheek as the smaller boy's head lolled limply against his shoulder.

Carefully, Eito lowered him down to the ground, making sure his head didn't hit anything as he kneeled down, easing Takumi down on his side. He looked over the unconscious boy as best he could. What was happening?

He spotted a little redness - well, more redness than usual, given how he appeared to Eito - peeking out from under the choker the boy wore. Skin irritation?

Eito felt anxiety pool in his own stomach. Surely, surely it couldn't be...?

As he reached out to gently investigate, however, Takumi slowly blinked his eyes open, coming to from the syncope that had overtaken him.

"Ah, Takumi-kun," he gasped, retracting his hand and resting it on his knee, "Are... are you alright? You can hear and understand me, right? What's going on? Do... do you need anything?"

Then everything came flooding back. The note, his other self, his throat-

Oh. He passed out. That's what happened.

Takumi opened his mouth, ready to explain that he was fine and just wasn't feeling great, but he couldn't get the words out. He physically couldn't speak the words he wanted to say. He tried a second time, but his throat only made a gross gargling noise. Takumi scrunched his nose in disgust.

That, at the very least, was a relief.

Relief, however, swiftly shifted into concern, his gaze sharpening onto Takumi's throat as what he assumed was an attempt to speak resulted only in a pained gurgle. The sound was even more revolting to his ears than if he had actually spoken.

Because he knew full well what had caused Takumi's voice to escape him. The only question was... why? Why was the wound reopening. Guilt began to eat away at the fringes of his heart. Of all the reckless, impulsive...!

His face contorted into a slightly pained expression as he brought a hand to his chest, reflexive, to suppress the disgust and nausea that was beginning to billow up in his throat. But not towards Takumi. Not this time.

The signing caught his attention; he had no idea this Takumi knew any sign language.

"The neck wound," he replied curtly, gaze darkening as a new wave of guilt hit him, "Why? Why would it be reopening after all this time? Have you tried any sort of conventional means of sealing it? Stitches? Surgery? . . . The Revive-O-Matic?"

Eito's thoughts were beginning to race. Surely, surely there was something they could do.

"Ha. Haha," the chuckle that escaped his lips as he knelt there was completely mirthless, "I suppose that just means I got to kill you yet again, hm? Ugly, stupid, putrid, vile, irredeemable... Takumi-kun..."

In the end, he was still a murderer. He just couldn't help himself, could he? Aotsuki Eito and Sumino Takumi would always find some way to destroy each other, as was their nature. It was only fitting, then, that he himself would be ravaged by the aberrant cryptoglobin in his system, if his reflection didn't find a way to storm across timelines again and kill him first.

He might just let him. Let himself be devoured and pass the burden of knowledge onto the other. Free him of one shackle and tether him to another.

Eito once again brought his gaze towards the exhausted boy, who was now wearing an almost... Angry expression? Yeah, makes sense he'd be angry, being held by his murderer. But then the signing started again. He barely had time to process the message before Takumi wriggled out of his grip and flopped back down onto the ground in a huff.

"What do you mean-" he started to argue, but he realized the implication almost immediately. Eyes widened in realization, rage flickering through them like lightning streaking across the sky. He lifted his hand to his mouth, and bit down hard upon the leather of his glove. Anything to stifle the words that wanted to spill forth in his fury.

Horrid disgusting liar traitor putrid unsightly sickening loathsome horrible hideous obscene dreadful odious revolting abhorrent obnoxious repulsive repugnant abominable horrid noisome despicable rancid iniquitous contemptible unrighteous heinous atrocious ignoble detestable repellent execrable unholy barbarous wretched vulgar graceless perverse degenerate indecorous filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy gross gross gross gross ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly...!

He felt his joints crack under the the pressure of his teeth on his finger, the pain snapping him out of the rage-fueled trance he found himself in. He realized, too, how tightly he was digging his other fingers into the other Takumi's wrist.

Looking down for a moment, all he could see was the reflection of the tragic parasite he apparently had puppetting him regularly. Hatred, pure hatred. Part of him wanted to dig his fingers into that unsightly wound on his grotesque neck and rip it open himself. Find his own miserable, pathetic Takumi in his room and give him every scar and wound he's received tenfold and more and lick the tears from his rotting, horrible, sad, beautiful eyes; hell, devour him whole, blood body and soul! It wasn't like he hadn't already done it...! A crazed, mad grin contorted across his face; wide, wild, and malicious. Not unlike the very first Eito Takumi encountered, in the Defense Room in his first round of the final days.

The silence in his mind was deafening, but the presence was there. There was a good chance he wouldn't remember any of this. Not while his jailer remained vigilant.

Something snapped into place. He wasn't sure what. He just. Had to get through tonight. Be good. For now. They could talk. Maybe. This Takumi wasn't to blame. Neither was his. He was pretty sure he'd wanted to change. Were those his thoughts? His decision? Something to ponder.

For now, he released Takumi's wrist. He'd gripped so tight, it might bruise. His eyes remained wide, murderous rage bubbling just behind the surface, staring unblinking at the boy on the ground. His expression forced itself back into one of a neutral, pleasant one, his tone following suit. Practiced. False.

"Takumi-kun. I think. You should go now," Eito says, not changing his tone or position, holding the hand that had gripped the other in front of him as if it were some sort of weapon, "I can't stand looking at your disgusting, hideous visage or endure your vile, rancid stench any longer."

Thst stare. That stare that haunted his dreams.

Before his mind could even process what was happening, Eito quickly released his wrist and told him to leave. But- but something in his tone, in his body posture, something was screaming at him that leaving the teen alone was a horrible idea. There was no way that Eito should be left alone... Of course, his first instinct was to argue, to remain here and stay by his side to help calm him down, but the realization hit him like a brick. Eito was warning him, telling him to run before he actually did harm Takumi. Which meant that it wouldn't be safe for "Takumi"...

Right, this Eito had friends. Actual friends. Friends who could actually help keep him level headed and figure out stuff together.

"Wait- Sumino-sempai...? But..." she... was a bit bewildered. Last she knew before she came to check on the fire extinguishers, he'd been holed up with Darumi in his room...?

This wasn't good, he couldn't be on his own, not while Sirei-

And then she noticed the choker. The soft, yet panicked look in his eyes and face. Markedly different from their harried team leader.

"You're... the other timeline's Sumino-sempai? But why...?" she realized. But as far as she knew, Eito was his only point of contact here, and there were risks involved with acting in other timelines so openly.

So for him to so brazenly approach in this sort of state...

"Is it... something with Eito?" it had to be. Sirei hadn't gotten to him, had he? They were sure he'd probably go for their Takumi first...

Whatever it was... she had a very, very bad feeling. She wasted no time in following his lead.

There was blood all over Eito's hands, his face, on the floor. The smell of iron and vomited saturated the air. He faintly heard Kako yelling, faintly felt per presence leave his side.

Takumi's throat tightened. His vision spun. Darkness started to eat away at him.

It wasn't until he reached the PLM did he realize where he was. He had never recollection of how he got there, or how long it took. Tears burned his eyes, his cheeks. His throat was only getting worse. In a blurry haze, he slipped the jump suit on and made his way back to his own timeline.

This was a mistake, he thought, every single thing he did was a mistake. His life was a mistake. His very being was a mistake.

He was wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong

If anyone noticed him, the way his breathing was wrong, the way he walked wrong, the look in his eyes were wrong wrong wrong- they didn't say anything. They just let him walk up to the roof and lock himself in his room.

"Hey, Eito... you're good with languages and stuff, right?" He asked shyly.

@teamleader-takumi

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | NIGHT | A SECOND NOTE]]

Eito had just seen the other timeline's Hiruko off, checking the time. Good, still had quite a bit of time. He was surprised the translation effort went as smoothly as it did, with having to relay information between the two...

Something in his mind nagged about that not quite being right-

He blinked... wait... what... wasn't right...?

He was interrupted by yet another inter-timeline visitor. With another note. What was going on over there? Would they be getting notes too?

"Mmmhm," he says, welcoming the other timeline's Takumi into his room and locking the door behind him, "Clearly, I'm on everyone's minds tonight. Any particular reason you and Hiruko-san chose to approach me separately on this matter?"

He looked over the note Takumi was holding. It sure was the same kind of writing he didn't quite understand. But... Takumi-san did.

He huffed a little in frustration. At least this note was a LOT shorter.

"Well, unfortunately for me, I'm actually pretty useless when it comes to ancient Futuran," he shrugs, somewhat dramatically, "Alas, my only use here is going to be acting as a mouthpiece for horrible Takumi-san, since he's the one with the actual knowledge. Thankfully, this note is much shorter than Hiruko-san's so it shouldn't run into my later... engagement..."

He felt... dizzy. Didn't he feel this way earlier?

A flash of memory. Oh no, no no not...

Ugly, wretched, vile, duplicitous Takumi, liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor...

Eito's breath hitched, as he gripped his hair and shivered, before going limp, collapsing sideways onto the bed. His eyes were half-lidded and vacant, like his mind had been forcibly shut down.

A twitch, a few blinks, and he slowly raised himself off of the bed and wordlessly got down to the floor, fishing something out from a secret compartment hidden under the bed - some kind of airtight container, and a messily-annotated notebook.

His movements and posture made it clear it wasn't Eito.

It was his other self.

"...Why..." he whispered, his eyes filled with pain and terror. This pain he was feeling, it wasn't his. No, it wasn't his- it was Eito's. The feeling of being controlled, the one thing Eito feared most. It consumed him, his body shivering and shaking as he took a step back.

Well. No matter. He sits himself back down on the bed and begins working, tearing out a blank page from the book and writing on it as he flips between his book and the note.

"Like I said," he replies, flipping through the notebook, glancing between it and the note, "I'm not exactly fluent. I need my notes, and I have some things in my research I don't want Aotsuki knowing about."

Part of him wanted to say he didn't get it, but that was a lie. He knew his other self was concerned about Eito's agency, here. Truthfully, he didn't like it either. But it's not like he had much of a choice. Just an unfortunate reality of their situation.

"Thankfully, yours is MUCH shorter, and the information is still fresh in my mind. I shouldn't be long; I'll give control back to Aotsuki, and as far as he'll remember, we just communicated back and forth to get this done."

"Don't you trust him?" he asked quietly, watching his other self from afar. He refused to move closer, and he couldn't will himself to move away. "Wouldn't it be better to work together with him? He's so smart... and he's trying so hard to help this time..."

His own words made him think of his Eito. Of the information Takumi himself hiding from him. But, despite how similar that was in principle, it was different. Takumi wasn't hiding it willingly. No, there were so many times where he nearly came out and blurted the whole truth to Eito. He wanted the other to know so bad, he wanted to show how much he was willing to help Eito heal and work together with him, but- but-

Something kept holding him back. Something foreign. Something outside his control.

He had been wondering this to himself for a while, never bringing it up to the others, never wanting to actively think about it. But, he had been wondering just... just how much of his actions were his own? There had been so many powerful beings controlling him, actively making themselves known to him, but what if there were beings that kept themselves hidden? A puppeteer with invisible strings wrapped around Takumi's whole body, forcing him to move in ways he didn't want to.

Maybe that's why he had been so complicit in everything up until now.

But...

"Trust... is an odd thing with Aotsuki," he replies, choosing his words carefully, "He can be fickle, and vindictive. And likes to take risks, with that luck of his. And while yes, he IS smart... Some of the things I'm looking into could... Distract him, or make him spiral back into old habits, for lack of a tactful way of saying it."

Basically, shit could make him go crazy again, or DO something exceptionally stupid or crazy. Like HE did, back then.

He should never have connected.

"And the fact that he's working so hard is part of it, too," he says, and means it, "I don't want him to lose sight of the changes he's achieved, and I don't want to add more to the already-huge workload he's dealing with. My problems can stay my problems, and I can do the legwork as far as finding a way to cure what's going on with his body. He can focus on helping this timeline's Sumino-san get through the 100 Days."

"Then... can't you at least communicate with him what you're doing?" He then asked, "Maybe figure out a system so he doesn't have to worry about losing time. So you don't have to change his memories. It just- it just feels wrong."

All he could think of were the memories he experienced from his Eito. The pain and suffering. The empty nights alone and scared. Not knowing when the monsters were coming back or what they were planning next. That's why he was trying to hard to win over his Eito's trust. Why he was putting so much effort into caring for him. Because no one else ever did, and that-

Takumi sighed, "Believe it or not, it was one of the first things that came up in discussions, once he became aware of me being here," he replied, looking up from his notes at the younger Takumi.

If the younger Takumi were paying attention, he'd notice the older one inhabiting Eito's body seemed even more tired and worn than usual, his eyes reflecting age that went beyond what he may have claimed before.

Why were humans so greedy? Why couldn't they leave well alone? Why did they have to escalate things? None of this was fair.

It wasn't fair.

He felt like he was being scolded by his father or a teacher, sitting in his little seat while his other self sifted through papers. Like he had done something wrong. Like he was a child.

Well, he was a child. 17 was still not legally an adult, which would mean he would be considered a minor. Though, law hardly mattered on a battlefield with magic blood powers.

He thought back to the little girl who handed him the flowers and the note that brought him here in the first place, something to distract him from all the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. Her mask... it looked familiar, like he had seen it before. But, it didn't match any of the commanders' masks. So then-

The statue.

It was the same mask as the statue they saw when his other self saved those Futuran kids. Eito also said the note was written in ancient Futuran. Could the girl be from the past?

He passes the note and translation back to the other Takumi.

'You are the leader of the Star Children? I sense great kindness. Why does the blood of Our Home flow through you? I wish to understand.'

"Between this and Hiruko's note, it seems like this entity is trying to gauge whether we're truly a threat or not, and figure out our connection to Futurum," he says, closing his notebook, "Which... I mean. You, me, and Hiruko know. But I'm sure it would seem strange for invaders from the sky to have the power of what's supposed to be this world's God."

"Yeah... her mask looked the exact same," he explained in hushed tones, "But she was too young..."

The image of the little girl appeared in his mind's eye, then the image of the statue. Same mask, but different ages. He wondered if she was possibly a ghost, but the items she handed him were very real and very tangible.

How much of his own theories could he reasonably share?

"Well, remember the story I brought up with those kids earlier? Could be... some kind of envoy? Though unless it were really possible for mortals to become gods, or something close to it, that'd be unlikely. Considering Ama-Sophia's been dead for... five, six thousand years? Give or take?" Takumi suggested, trying to sound incredulous. Truthfully, it wasn't impossible, but...

Did she still exist in that place? Or were there places outside of it where such things could exist?

He shifted gears, ready to put out another theory. He didn't want this Takumi to look too far into these things. Far too risky.

Shifting his position, slouching a bit and resting his chin on his hand, he continued languidly, "Though... not sure they'd wear the same mask. Unless, of course, she predates that rule. Another thought is she COULD be some sort of... hemoanima echo. Every living thing on this planet contains SOME measure of cryptoglobin, it's not completely out there to think she's something left of a really devoted follower, or maybe a younger echo of Ama-Sephia herself..."

After all, he himself was now considered "immortal" thanks to Vee.

Speaking of Vee, Takumi hadn't heard or seen the strange spirit in a while. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and was trying to keep it to himself so no one worried, but lately, his neck was starting to itch again. A familiar itching, like how it felt when the wound first healed after Vee revived him. He didn't mention to anyone about the strange bouts of vertigo he was experiencing sometimes, or how he would get a tickle in his throat.

He couldn't worry everyone with it. They all had enough on their plates as it was, and he was supposed to be their leader. If their leader started to falter, everything would collapse.

"Gives me leads and references, something to talk about and build trust with the locals. Works out for Eito, too. He hasn't talked about it much, but he wants to try to get everyone to rally behind the people down here, instead of the satellite," Takumi smiles a bit, genuinely proud of how far his old friend and nemesis has come. He didn't even notice his slip-up, "And while he... well. He still hates humanity. But he seems to have come around to the idea that... maybe they can learn and aren't beyond hope."

He sits back down on the bed and smiles at his younger self. He knew how sad and disappointed he must be with him, the man he'd become. He had no idea how selfish and wretched he really was.

He realized perhaps a brief explanation was in order.

"Ama-Sephia was one of the first of the Paragons, and pretty rightly one of the most revered. In addition to her attunement with nature and receiving the Divine Blood, she was said to be a miraculous healer," he starts, laying the groundwork, "But another part of her story is her older brother, Dammuz. But... that's where it gets strange. Because aside from a few key points? Almost no records of the guy remain. It seems to be some unspoken rule to not even depict him.

"Okay, I can do that," he nodded. Here's to hoping that the flower girl could understand him, at least.

After a slight pause, he asked, "May I speak to Eito now? I wanted to hear his opinion on all of this."

He smiled at the other, taking a minute to go over the conversation and events in his head; what parts Eito needed to remember, and what parts would be redacted, "And... of course. I'll see you later, Sumino-kun."

Though he didn't collapse this time, the expression on Eito's face went blank, eyes glazing over. Almost trancelike, as the events of the evening were molded and shaped in his mind, concealing his headmate's machinations and control.

He blinks a few times, and the spark of consciousness returns to his eyes.

"I-" his voice barely managed to squeak out. At first, he thought it was because of his anxiety, but, then he tried again.

"I-I think... I..."

He was losing his voice.

He needed to leave. Now.

Takumi quickly stood up out of his seat.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying prone on the carpet, unsure of what just happened. How did he end up on the floor? What was he doing, again? He slowly blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the strange fog that enveloped his head.

His brow furrowed in concern as Takumi got to his feet, clearly in a hurry. Eito started to get up himself, "Takumi-kun? Are you al-"

But he didn't get to finish his question before gasping in shock as Takumi started to crumple to the floor. Eito lunged forward to catch him, gagging and reflexively covering his mouth as proximity intensified the smell of rotting flesh and overwhelming florals, phantom needles grazing against his cheek as the smaller boy's head lolled limply against his shoulder.

Carefully, Eito lowered him down to the ground, making sure his head didn't hit anything as he kneeled down, easing Takumi down on his side. He looked over the unconscious boy as best he could. What was happening?

He spotted a little redness - well, more redness than usual, given how he appeared to Eito - peeking out from under the choker the boy wore. Skin irritation?

Eito felt anxiety pool in his own stomach. Surely, surely it couldn't be...?

As he reached out to gently investigate, however, Takumi slowly blinked his eyes open, coming to from the syncope that had overtaken him.

"Ah, Takumi-kun," he gasped, retracting his hand and resting it on his knee, "Are... are you alright? You can hear and understand me, right? What's going on? Do... do you need anything?"

Then everything came flooding back. The note, his other self, his throat-

Oh. He passed out. That's what happened.

Takumi opened his mouth, ready to explain that he was fine and just wasn't feeling great, but he couldn't get the words out. He physically couldn't speak the words he wanted to say. He tried a second time, but his throat only made a gross gargling noise. Takumi scrunched his nose in disgust.

That, at the very least, was a relief.

Relief, however, swiftly shifted into concern, his gaze sharpening onto Takumi's throat as what he assumed was an attempt to speak resulted only in a pained gurgle. The sound was even more revolting to his ears than if he had actually spoken.

Because he knew full well what had caused Takumi's voice to escape him. The only question was... why? Why was the wound reopening. Guilt began to eat away at the fringes of his heart. Of all the reckless, impulsive...!

His face contorted into a slightly pained expression as he brought a hand to his chest, reflexive, to suppress the disgust and nausea that was beginning to billow up in his throat. But not towards Takumi. Not this time.

The signing caught his attention; he had no idea this Takumi knew any sign language.

"The neck wound," he replied curtly, gaze darkening as a new wave of guilt hit him, "Why? Why would it be reopening after all this time? Have you tried any sort of conventional means of sealing it? Stitches? Surgery? . . . The Revive-O-Matic?"

Eito's thoughts were beginning to race. Surely, surely there was something they could do.

"Ha. Haha," the chuckle that escaped his lips as he knelt there was completely mirthless, "I suppose that just means I got to kill you yet again, hm? Ugly, stupid, putrid, vile, irredeemable... Takumi-kun..."

In the end, he was still a murderer. He just couldn't help himself, could he? Aotsuki Eito and Sumino Takumi would always find some way to destroy each other, as was their nature. It was only fitting, then, that he himself would be ravaged by the aberrant cryptoglobin in his system, if his reflection didn't find a way to storm across timelines again and kill him first.

He might just let him. Let himself be devoured and pass the burden of knowledge onto the other. Free him of one shackle and tether him to another.

Eito once again brought his gaze towards the exhausted boy, who was now wearing an almost... Angry expression? Yeah, makes sense he'd be angry, being held by his murderer. But then the signing started again. He barely had time to process the message before Takumi wriggled out of his grip and flopped back down onto the ground in a huff.

"What do you mean-" he started to argue, but he realized the implication almost immediately. Eyes widened in realization, rage flickering through them like lightning streaking across the sky. He lifted his hand to his mouth, and bit down hard upon the leather of his glove. Anything to stifle the words that wanted to spill forth in his fury.

Horrid disgusting liar traitor putrid unsightly sickening loathsome horrible hideous obscene dreadful odious revolting abhorrent obnoxious repulsive repugnant abominable horrid noisome despicable rancid iniquitous contemptible unrighteous heinous atrocious ignoble detestable repellent execrable unholy barbarous wretched vulgar graceless perverse degenerate indecorous filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy gross gross gross gross ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly...!

He felt his joints crack under the the pressure of his teeth on his finger, the pain snapping him out of the rage-fueled trance he found himself in. He realized, too, how tightly he was digging his other fingers into the other Takumi's wrist.

Looking down for a moment, all he could see was the reflection of the tragic parasite he apparently had puppetting him regularly. Hatred, pure hatred. Part of him wanted to dig his fingers into that unsightly wound on his grotesque neck and rip it open himself. Find his own miserable, pathetic Takumi in his room and give him every scar and wound he's received tenfold and more and lick the tears from his rotting, horrible, sad, beautiful eyes; hell, devour him whole, blood body and soul! It wasn't like he hadn't already done it...! A crazed, mad grin contorted across his face; wide, wild, and malicious. Not unlike the very first Eito Takumi encountered, in the Defense Room in his first round of the final days.

The silence in his mind was deafening, but the presence was there. There was a good chance he wouldn't remember any of this. Not while his jailer remained vigilant.

Something snapped into place. He wasn't sure what. He just. Had to get through tonight. Be good. For now. They could talk. Maybe. This Takumi wasn't to blame. Neither was his. He was pretty sure he'd wanted to change. Were those his thoughts? His decision? Something to ponder.

For now, he released Takumi's wrist. He'd gripped so tight, it might bruise. His eyes remained wide, murderous rage bubbling just behind the surface, staring unblinking at the boy on the ground. His expression forced itself back into one of a neutral, pleasant one, his tone following suit. Practiced. False.

"Takumi-kun. I think. You should go now," Eito says, not changing his tone or position, holding the hand that had gripped the other in front of him as if it were some sort of weapon, "I can't stand looking at your disgusting, hideous visage or endure your vile, rancid stench any longer."

Thst stare. That stare that haunted his dreams.

Before his mind could even process what was happening, Eito quickly released his wrist and told him to leave. But- but something in his tone, in his body posture, something was screaming at him that leaving the teen alone was a horrible idea. There was no way that Eito should be left alone... Of course, his first instinct was to argue, to remain here and stay by his side to help calm him down, but the realization hit him like a brick. Eito was warning him, telling him to run before he actually did harm Takumi. Which meant that it wouldn't be safe for "Takumi"...

Right, this Eito had friends. Actual friends. Friends who could actually help keep him level headed and figure out stuff together.

"Wait- Sumino-sempai...? But..." she... was a bit bewildered. Last she knew before she came to check on the fire extinguishers, he'd been holed up with Darumi in his room...?

This wasn't good, he couldn't be on his own, not while Sirei-

And then she noticed the choker. The soft, yet panicked look in his eyes and face. Markedly different from their harried team leader.

"You're... the other timeline's Sumino-sempai? But why...?" she realized. But as far as she knew, Eito was his only point of contact here, and there were risks involved with acting in other timelines so openly.

So for him to so brazenly approach in this sort of state...

"Is it... something with Eito?" it had to be. Sirei hadn't gotten to him, had he? They were sure he'd probably go for their Takumi first...

Whatever it was... she had a very, very bad feeling. She wasted no time in following his lead.

"Hey, Eito... you're good with languages and stuff, right?" He asked shyly.

@teamleader-takumi

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | NIGHT | A SECOND NOTE]]

Eito had just seen the other timeline's Hiruko off, checking the time. Good, still had quite a bit of time. He was surprised the translation effort went as smoothly as it did, with having to relay information between the two...

Something in his mind nagged about that not quite being right-

He blinked... wait... what... wasn't right...?

He was interrupted by yet another inter-timeline visitor. With another note. What was going on over there? Would they be getting notes too?

"Mmmhm," he says, welcoming the other timeline's Takumi into his room and locking the door behind him, "Clearly, I'm on everyone's minds tonight. Any particular reason you and Hiruko-san chose to approach me separately on this matter?"

He looked over the note Takumi was holding. It sure was the same kind of writing he didn't quite understand. But... Takumi-san did.

He huffed a little in frustration. At least this note was a LOT shorter.

"Well, unfortunately for me, I'm actually pretty useless when it comes to ancient Futuran," he shrugs, somewhat dramatically, "Alas, my only use here is going to be acting as a mouthpiece for horrible Takumi-san, since he's the one with the actual knowledge. Thankfully, this note is much shorter than Hiruko-san's so it shouldn't run into my later... engagement..."

He felt... dizzy. Didn't he feel this way earlier?

A flash of memory. Oh no, no no not...

Ugly, wretched, vile, duplicitous Takumi, liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor...

Eito's breath hitched, as he gripped his hair and shivered, before going limp, collapsing sideways onto the bed. His eyes were half-lidded and vacant, like his mind had been forcibly shut down.

A twitch, a few blinks, and he slowly raised himself off of the bed and wordlessly got down to the floor, fishing something out from a secret compartment hidden under the bed - some kind of airtight container, and a messily-annotated notebook.

His movements and posture made it clear it wasn't Eito.

It was his other self.

"...Why..." he whispered, his eyes filled with pain and terror. This pain he was feeling, it wasn't his. No, it wasn't his- it was Eito's. The feeling of being controlled, the one thing Eito feared most. It consumed him, his body shivering and shaking as he took a step back.

Well. No matter. He sits himself back down on the bed and begins working, tearing out a blank page from the book and writing on it as he flips between his book and the note.

"Like I said," he replies, flipping through the notebook, glancing between it and the note, "I'm not exactly fluent. I need my notes, and I have some things in my research I don't want Aotsuki knowing about."

Part of him wanted to say he didn't get it, but that was a lie. He knew his other self was concerned about Eito's agency, here. Truthfully, he didn't like it either. But it's not like he had much of a choice. Just an unfortunate reality of their situation.

"Thankfully, yours is MUCH shorter, and the information is still fresh in my mind. I shouldn't be long; I'll give control back to Aotsuki, and as far as he'll remember, we just communicated back and forth to get this done."

"Don't you trust him?" he asked quietly, watching his other self from afar. He refused to move closer, and he couldn't will himself to move away. "Wouldn't it be better to work together with him? He's so smart... and he's trying so hard to help this time..."

His own words made him think of his Eito. Of the information Takumi himself hiding from him. But, despite how similar that was in principle, it was different. Takumi wasn't hiding it willingly. No, there were so many times where he nearly came out and blurted the whole truth to Eito. He wanted the other to know so bad, he wanted to show how much he was willing to help Eito heal and work together with him, but- but-

Something kept holding him back. Something foreign. Something outside his control.

He had been wondering this to himself for a while, never bringing it up to the others, never wanting to actively think about it. But, he had been wondering just... just how much of his actions were his own? There had been so many powerful beings controlling him, actively making themselves known to him, but what if there were beings that kept themselves hidden? A puppeteer with invisible strings wrapped around Takumi's whole body, forcing him to move in ways he didn't want to.

Maybe that's why he had been so complicit in everything up until now.

But...

"Trust... is an odd thing with Aotsuki," he replies, choosing his words carefully, "He can be fickle, and vindictive. And likes to take risks, with that luck of his. And while yes, he IS smart... Some of the things I'm looking into could... Distract him, or make him spiral back into old habits, for lack of a tactful way of saying it."

Basically, shit could make him go crazy again, or DO something exceptionally stupid or crazy. Like HE did, back then.

He should never have connected.

"And the fact that he's working so hard is part of it, too," he says, and means it, "I don't want him to lose sight of the changes he's achieved, and I don't want to add more to the already-huge workload he's dealing with. My problems can stay my problems, and I can do the legwork as far as finding a way to cure what's going on with his body. He can focus on helping this timeline's Sumino-san get through the 100 Days."

"Then... can't you at least communicate with him what you're doing?" He then asked, "Maybe figure out a system so he doesn't have to worry about losing time. So you don't have to change his memories. It just- it just feels wrong."

All he could think of were the memories he experienced from his Eito. The pain and suffering. The empty nights alone and scared. Not knowing when the monsters were coming back or what they were planning next. That's why he was trying to hard to win over his Eito's trust. Why he was putting so much effort into caring for him. Because no one else ever did, and that-

Takumi sighed, "Believe it or not, it was one of the first things that came up in discussions, once he became aware of me being here," he replied, looking up from his notes at the younger Takumi.

If the younger Takumi were paying attention, he'd notice the older one inhabiting Eito's body seemed even more tired and worn than usual, his eyes reflecting age that went beyond what he may have claimed before.

Why were humans so greedy? Why couldn't they leave well alone? Why did they have to escalate things? None of this was fair.

It wasn't fair.

He felt like he was being scolded by his father or a teacher, sitting in his little seat while his other self sifted through papers. Like he had done something wrong. Like he was a child.

Well, he was a child. 17 was still not legally an adult, which would mean he would be considered a minor. Though, law hardly mattered on a battlefield with magic blood powers.

He thought back to the little girl who handed him the flowers and the note that brought him here in the first place, something to distract him from all the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. Her mask... it looked familiar, like he had seen it before. But, it didn't match any of the commanders' masks. So then-

The statue.

It was the same mask as the statue they saw when his other self saved those Futuran kids. Eito also said the note was written in ancient Futuran. Could the girl be from the past?

He passes the note and translation back to the other Takumi.

'You are the leader of the Star Children? I sense great kindness. Why does the blood of Our Home flow through you? I wish to understand.'

"Between this and Hiruko's note, it seems like this entity is trying to gauge whether we're truly a threat or not, and figure out our connection to Futurum," he says, closing his notebook, "Which... I mean. You, me, and Hiruko know. But I'm sure it would seem strange for invaders from the sky to have the power of what's supposed to be this world's God."

"Yeah... her mask looked the exact same," he explained in hushed tones, "But she was too young..."

The image of the little girl appeared in his mind's eye, then the image of the statue. Same mask, but different ages. He wondered if she was possibly a ghost, but the items she handed him were very real and very tangible.

How much of his own theories could he reasonably share?

"Well, remember the story I brought up with those kids earlier? Could be... some kind of envoy? Though unless it were really possible for mortals to become gods, or something close to it, that'd be unlikely. Considering Ama-Sophia's been dead for... five, six thousand years? Give or take?" Takumi suggested, trying to sound incredulous. Truthfully, it wasn't impossible, but...

Did she still exist in that place? Or were there places outside of it where such things could exist?

He shifted gears, ready to put out another theory. He didn't want this Takumi to look too far into these things. Far too risky.

Shifting his position, slouching a bit and resting his chin on his hand, he continued languidly, "Though... not sure they'd wear the same mask. Unless, of course, she predates that rule. Another thought is she COULD be some sort of... hemoanima echo. Every living thing on this planet contains SOME measure of cryptoglobin, it's not completely out there to think she's something left of a really devoted follower, or maybe a younger echo of Ama-Sephia herself..."

After all, he himself was now considered "immortal" thanks to Vee.

Speaking of Vee, Takumi hadn't heard or seen the strange spirit in a while. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and was trying to keep it to himself so no one worried, but lately, his neck was starting to itch again. A familiar itching, like how it felt when the wound first healed after Vee revived him. He didn't mention to anyone about the strange bouts of vertigo he was experiencing sometimes, or how he would get a tickle in his throat.

He couldn't worry everyone with it. They all had enough on their plates as it was, and he was supposed to be their leader. If their leader started to falter, everything would collapse.

"Gives me leads and references, something to talk about and build trust with the locals. Works out for Eito, too. He hasn't talked about it much, but he wants to try to get everyone to rally behind the people down here, instead of the satellite," Takumi smiles a bit, genuinely proud of how far his old friend and nemesis has come. He didn't even notice his slip-up, "And while he... well. He still hates humanity. But he seems to have come around to the idea that... maybe they can learn and aren't beyond hope."

He sits back down on the bed and smiles at his younger self. He knew how sad and disappointed he must be with him, the man he'd become. He had no idea how selfish and wretched he really was.

He realized perhaps a brief explanation was in order.

"Ama-Sephia was one of the first of the Paragons, and pretty rightly one of the most revered. In addition to her attunement with nature and receiving the Divine Blood, she was said to be a miraculous healer," he starts, laying the groundwork, "But another part of her story is her older brother, Dammuz. But... that's where it gets strange. Because aside from a few key points? Almost no records of the guy remain. It seems to be some unspoken rule to not even depict him.

"Okay, I can do that," he nodded. Here's to hoping that the flower girl could understand him, at least.

After a slight pause, he asked, "May I speak to Eito now? I wanted to hear his opinion on all of this."

He smiled at the other, taking a minute to go over the conversation and events in his head; what parts Eito needed to remember, and what parts would be redacted, "And... of course. I'll see you later, Sumino-kun."

Though he didn't collapse this time, the expression on Eito's face went blank, eyes glazing over. Almost trancelike, as the events of the evening were molded and shaped in his mind, concealing his headmate's machinations and control.

He blinks a few times, and the spark of consciousness returns to his eyes.

"I-" his voice barely managed to squeak out. At first, he thought it was because of his anxiety, but, then he tried again.

"I-I think... I..."

He was losing his voice.

He needed to leave. Now.

Takumi quickly stood up out of his seat.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying prone on the carpet, unsure of what just happened. How did he end up on the floor? What was he doing, again? He slowly blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the strange fog that enveloped his head.

His brow furrowed in concern as Takumi got to his feet, clearly in a hurry. Eito started to get up himself, "Takumi-kun? Are you al-"

But he didn't get to finish his question before gasping in shock as Takumi started to crumple to the floor. Eito lunged forward to catch him, gagging and reflexively covering his mouth as proximity intensified the smell of rotting flesh and overwhelming florals, phantom needles grazing against his cheek as the smaller boy's head lolled limply against his shoulder.

Carefully, Eito lowered him down to the ground, making sure his head didn't hit anything as he kneeled down, easing Takumi down on his side. He looked over the unconscious boy as best he could. What was happening?

He spotted a little redness - well, more redness than usual, given how he appeared to Eito - peeking out from under the choker the boy wore. Skin irritation?

Eito felt anxiety pool in his own stomach. Surely, surely it couldn't be...?

As he reached out to gently investigate, however, Takumi slowly blinked his eyes open, coming to from the syncope that had overtaken him.

"Ah, Takumi-kun," he gasped, retracting his hand and resting it on his knee, "Are... are you alright? You can hear and understand me, right? What's going on? Do... do you need anything?"

Then everything came flooding back. The note, his other self, his throat-

Oh. He passed out. That's what happened.

Takumi opened his mouth, ready to explain that he was fine and just wasn't feeling great, but he couldn't get the words out. He physically couldn't speak the words he wanted to say. He tried a second time, but his throat only made a gross gargling noise. Takumi scrunched his nose in disgust.

That, at the very least, was a relief.

Relief, however, swiftly shifted into concern, his gaze sharpening onto Takumi's throat as what he assumed was an attempt to speak resulted only in a pained gurgle. The sound was even more revolting to his ears than if he had actually spoken.

Because he knew full well what had caused Takumi's voice to escape him. The only question was... why? Why was the wound reopening. Guilt began to eat away at the fringes of his heart. Of all the reckless, impulsive...!

His face contorted into a slightly pained expression as he brought a hand to his chest, reflexive, to suppress the disgust and nausea that was beginning to billow up in his throat. But not towards Takumi. Not this time.

The signing caught his attention; he had no idea this Takumi knew any sign language.

"The neck wound," he replied curtly, gaze darkening as a new wave of guilt hit him, "Why? Why would it be reopening after all this time? Have you tried any sort of conventional means of sealing it? Stitches? Surgery? . . . The Revive-O-Matic?"

Eito's thoughts were beginning to race. Surely, surely there was something they could do.

"Ha. Haha," the chuckle that escaped his lips as he knelt there was completely mirthless, "I suppose that just means I got to kill you yet again, hm? Ugly, stupid, putrid, vile, irredeemable... Takumi-kun..."

In the end, he was still a murderer. He just couldn't help himself, could he? Aotsuki Eito and Sumino Takumi would always find some way to destroy each other, as was their nature. It was only fitting, then, that he himself would be ravaged by the aberrant cryptoglobin in his system, if his reflection didn't find a way to storm across timelines again and kill him first.

He might just let him. Let himself be devoured and pass the burden of knowledge onto the other. Free him of one shackle and tether him to another.

Eito once again brought his gaze towards the exhausted boy, who was now wearing an almost... Angry expression? Yeah, makes sense he'd be angry, being held by his murderer. But then the signing started again. He barely had time to process the message before Takumi wriggled out of his grip and flopped back down onto the ground in a huff.

"What do you mean-" he started to argue, but he realized the implication almost immediately. Eyes widened in realization, rage flickering through them like lightning streaking across the sky. He lifted his hand to his mouth, and bit down hard upon the leather of his glove. Anything to stifle the words that wanted to spill forth in his fury.

Horrid disgusting liar traitor putrid unsightly sickening loathsome horrible hideous obscene dreadful odious revolting abhorrent obnoxious repulsive repugnant abominable horrid noisome despicable rancid iniquitous contemptible unrighteous heinous atrocious ignoble detestable repellent execrable unholy barbarous wretched vulgar graceless perverse degenerate indecorous filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy gross gross gross gross ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly...!

He felt his joints crack under the the pressure of his teeth on his finger, the pain snapping him out of the rage-fueled trance he found himself in. He realized, too, how tightly he was digging his other fingers into the other Takumi's wrist.

Looking down for a moment, all he could see was the reflection of the tragic parasite he apparently had puppetting him regularly. Hatred, pure hatred. Part of him wanted to dig his fingers into that unsightly wound on his grotesque neck and rip it open himself. Find his own miserable, pathetic Takumi in his room and give him every scar and wound he's received tenfold and more and lick the tears from his rotting, horrible, sad, beautiful eyes; hell, devour him whole, blood body and soul! It wasn't like he hadn't already done it...! A crazed, mad grin contorted across his face; wide, wild, and malicious. Not unlike the very first Eito Takumi encountered, in the Defense Room in his first round of the final days.

The silence in his mind was deafening, but the presence was there. There was a good chance he wouldn't remember any of this. Not while his jailer remained vigilant.

Something snapped into place. He wasn't sure what. He just. Had to get through tonight. Be good. For now. They could talk. Maybe. This Takumi wasn't to blame. Neither was his. He was pretty sure he'd wanted to change. Were those his thoughts? His decision? Something to ponder.

For now, he released Takumi's wrist. He'd gripped so tight, it might bruise. His eyes remained wide, murderous rage bubbling just behind the surface, staring unblinking at the boy on the ground. His expression forced itself back into one of a neutral, pleasant one, his tone following suit. Practiced. False.

"Takumi-kun. I think. You should go now," Eito says, not changing his tone or position, holding the hand that had gripped the other in front of him as if it were some sort of weapon, "I can't stand looking at your disgusting, hideous visage or endure your vile, rancid stench any longer."

She made it up to the roof and found Eito's door. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently.

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | LATE EVENING | A SECOND DATE]]

Okay, alright. It was last minute, but things were going well.

His double had somehow gotten back to his timeline, and Kako had already made the move to meet with Sirei tonight. Darumi was keeping watch over Takumi, at least until it was time for them to make their move. Shouma was keeping watch by the Infirmary, and he himself had managed to send Nigou - gullible as he is - on a bit of a wild goose chase just outside the grounds. It was astonishing what you could convince him of, as long as you framed it as coming from Sirei.

And to boot, those embarrassing rabbit accessories had finally come off.

Ideally, he would have talked to Yugamu about removing the bomb in him. But unfortunately, time hadn't allowed that particular conversation. And for whatever reason, the guy had locked himself up in the Bio Lab. No huge loss - the way they were doing this, Sirei wouldn't even know WHO was striking him until it was too late; while setting off the bomb in time was entirely possible, and thoroughly unpleasant, there'd be no way he'd have time to remove their Revive-O-Matic data.

And with what he knew from Takumi-san, they'd be able to pull this off without damaging any critical memory or data. Which would be vital, in terms of rallying everyone in sparing this planet without airing out the time travel secret.

You're really doing this, then? Aren't you rushing things a bit?

"You know full well I can't abide that... thing, in the Infirmary," Eito replied aloud, a chill running down his spine just thinking about it, "And as such? I refuse to risk letting my Ugly Takumi fall victim to it."

'Your' Takumi, huh? You're both freaks, I swear. Well, whatever. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess. Just hope you know what you're doing.

He paced around as he went over things in his head one more time. Just a few more hours until the scheduled meeting. Any more prep to do...?

The doorbell rings. Who is it at this hour? Did Kako maybe succeed in getting ahold of Yugamu?

"Coming!" He chirps, in the bright and friendly manner most of the current SDU was familiar with.

He did not expect to see someone in a Leap Suit on the other side.

It would be best to ignore them, she decided. They couldn't last forever.

She took off the rest of the suit and crossed her arms. She could feel the ears twitch above her head and her tail swish back and forth. She had to fight not to blush.

There were still a few hours before his own plans would unfold. He could probably help her out.

There was an odd feeling in his mind...

"Takumi-san...?" He brought a hand to his head, a puzzled look on his face.

. . .

Was he... flustered?

"Huh," he brought his hand back down, shrugging with a bemused expression, "Well, it's certainly not what you came here for, Hiruko-san, but it appears you've left my annoying little headmate at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day. But, seriously. What can we help you with?"

The look on her face demanded he stop clowning around.

"But surely, that wouldn't be enough of a reason to risk jumping timelines, no? I assume the reason you're here is because you need some kind of specialized knowledge?" He sits down across from Hiruko on a soft cushion that he'd tucked under the coffee table.

Since welcoming the other three into his circle, and in general trying to do more for himself, his room had gotten filled with all sorts of new things that helped it look less like a room out of a hospital or institution, and more like an actual dorm someone lived in. Extra blankets and pillows in colors that reminded him of the nature he adored, the odd plush, plenty of potted plants, the terrarium for his snails and Jorm's enclosure, even evidence of attempts at new activities. It still smelled incredibly sterile, owing to Eito's aversion to strong smells, but overall, it was far more homey.

He was quite starting to like his room, actually.

Eito takes the note in hand and glances it over. He only had the vaguest idea as to what he might be looking at.

Ancient Futuran? But... it looks recently written...? Where in the world did this come from...?

"Well, Takumi-san seems to recognize this, and is utterly flabbergasted that you have such a thing," he says, "The script is ancient, but clearly, this was written very recently. Quite the mystery..."

She shook her head. She worried for the child. There were too many dangers for their groups to be interacting. Her people could get spooked. The Futurans may punish them for speaking to the invaders. Sirei could find out. It was best for children to stay where it was safe and far away from the war.

Eito clutched his head. He felt... tired. Overwhelmingly so, it was if his thoughts were being dragged underwater.

This was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling like this.

Takumi...?

"Ah... Hiru...ko... saaan... someth... hel..."

No, no...! He had to fight this, he wouldn't keep being controlled...!

It was as if something was unplugged in his mind; his eyes and expression went blank, and he went totally limp where he sat.

A marionette, with strings severed.

One arm twitches, then another, as eyelids flutter and he straightens up, posture notably different, rolling his shoulder as he meets eyes with Hiruko with a smile.

"Hello again, Hiruko," Takumi says, slightly apologetic, "Sorry, you had to see that. But I'm not really in the mood to play 'telephone' here. Plus... looking into a few things I'd rather not he know about, yet."

He stands up from the table, and moves over to the bed, getting down on his hands and knees and reaching under it. He finds the panel hes looking for, shifting it out of the way and removing a notebook and a small, airtight container, taking both back over to the table and seating himself next to Hiruko on the couch.

Takumi opens up the container, revealing several incerdibly old-looking scrolls, and flips open the notebook, and begins examining the note Hiruko had brought. The notebook was filled with similar symbols, along with more recognizable ones - Futuran language, in different iterations, as well as charts with their own Kanji, katakana, and hiragana, and letters from other languages as well. Normally, this kind of work would make Takumi want to throw himself off of the roof of the Academy, but he'd built up quite a bit of patience over the years and besides. He had SEVERAL mysteries to unravel.

He takes Hiruko's note in hand, flipping through his notebook and comparing, "This one... shouldn't take too long, I think. I recognize quite a few words here, already. From what I can tell, it seems more like a personal message, or... trying to make contact, than anything."

"Whomever that child is though... I don't know if we need to worry about them being in danger," says Takumi, as he tears a blank page out of the book and begins transcribing what he can, "As Aotsuki was saying before I interrupted? That same child appeared in our timeline to give us flowers as well. Both of us."

"I was planning on getting his input too." She remarked, but it wasn't a strong objection. "He might have an interesting perspective if we listened to him."

She was grateful for another opportunity to talk to Takumi though. Maybe one day conversations like these would be easier. And maybe the things they'd be able to do and say would be freer.

The very cute distraction that was a cat-eared Hiruko watching him so intently didn't make the translating go any faster.

It was a shame Eito was busy tonight. He'd love to spend more time with Hiruko. In general, not just tonight. It was one of the biggest issues with his current living situation, as it were.

He paused a minute to think about her question, tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook. Takumi hums in consideration a moment, before standing and heading over to Eito's desk and retrieving a worn book from the drawer. It was considerably more recent than the scrolls he'd retrieved earlier, and looked to be some sort of religious or history book. He returned to the couch, and began flipping through the pages.

"Not specifically, and while Dahl'xia does love his history and is incredibly dedicated to his faith, the man's love really seems to be the stories that get passed around after the fact. Folk tales and legends, myths and stuff," he responds, slowing down once he'd reached a certain section, "But something that stuck out to me was the idea that as wild or embellished as a lot of those stories could be, there was usually some little grain of truth in them. That's part of why I don't completely count them out when looking for information."

It actually brought to mind something he heard from his very first Eito. It was a story about some massive statues that had been moved from one place to another a very long time ago on Earth, and the historians or whatever studying them had no idea how the ancient people managed it. Upon asking the native people, they were told a story about how the statues simply 'walked' there; and while that was what their legends stated, the truth wasn't that far off - they'd tied ropes to the heads of the statues, and using teams of people rocked them back and forth to effectively 'walk' them to their destination.

The answer was right in front of them, but the perspective was completely dismissed because of the source and how the information got passed down over the centuries.

Eventually, he stopped at what appeared to be a print of a painting in the book, and turned showed it to Hiruko, "Did the design of the mask look anything like this?"

The painting in the photo depicted a mature feminine figure, clothed in simple robes and holding a small handful of florals - blooddrops, arnica, yarrow, sage... and an unknown flower that seemed to radiate a silver glow. She was surrounded by what looked to be sick and wounded, a leper whose hand she held appeared to be healing from the touch alone. The scene had them set in some kind of shrine in deep forest.

Her tail flicked back and forth lazily as he worked. She...really would have preferred to come without it. She wondered how much longer she'd be stuck like this. Was fixing it another mission she was going to have to go on?

"I suppose stories do tend to have some truth to them; still, too often they seem to lead to chasing shadows and bad endings." Maybe it was a bitter take from her, especially since she seemed to be doing the same again. But it seemed every time they started digging into the local myths and legends, things always went wrong. Maybe it was safer if she was doing it on her own, but she really wanted to keep the team out of this.

She was dragged out of her sullen thoughts by the painting. The mask of course stood out, but she couldn't help but wonder more about their seemingly healing touch. It was possibly a metaphor, but more likely this figure was someone extremely powerful.

"A cult would be unlikely, in this case," he says, taking the book back and glaring holes into a conspicuously open, empty spot behind the figure in the portrait, "For one, I don't think any cult worshipping a Paragon would recreate their masks for their own use. If there's one thing I've learned, its that they take that SUPER seriously. It's never the same design, and you'd better not recreate it for yourself.

"Second, a cult would be... really redundant here. Ama-Sephia is one of the most widely-revered historical Paragons. Supposedly, one of the very first to gain their power from their 'God'; the first 'Paragon of Nature', and often referred to as 'The First Healer' as well. You'd have a hard time finding a Futuran that DIDN'T venerate her, to some degree."

He trusted Hiruko enough to voice his concerns here. There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. No strokes of bad luck. It was all intentional, all designed. What once was one became two, became shattered, and must be one again. The cycle repeats, again and again, until made whole. The Blood that binds will ascend them all, no more pain, no more danger. It ends forever.

He refused to let that happen. That wasn't the protection, or the ending he'd wanted...!

Takumi remembered. All of it.

He swallowed thickly, becoming aware of the sweat on his brow as he steadied himself, suppressing the power that threatened to tear Eito's body to shreds.

She looked at him seriously, her eyes filled with worry.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no...

"S-sorry, agh, just. Gimme a minute," Takumi said between breaths, squeezing her hands reassuringly, "I'm- I'm fine, now. Promise."

Fine as he could be, at any rate.

He could tell Hiruko some of it. At the very least, to ease her mind. She'd understand if he didn't want to get into all of it now, surely.

He removed Eito's glasses. It wasn't like they were the correct prescription; right now it was only contributing to the headache.

"I... when chasing that line of thought, I just... remembered something. A lot of things, actually. And... well. Put plainly, I've been suppressing my hemoanima by... Quite a lot. Eito's body can't quite handle it," it was the truth, or at least partially, "It was enough to shake me, and... I lost control, for a second. I don't want it to cause him more harm than it already has."

He pulled his hands away, shakily returning to the task at hand.

"Alright." She agreed to move on, but promised herself she'd think more on Takumi's situation later. "If the masks are as important as you say, I'm willing to rule out reincarnation as well. Unless everyone around here knows she's the reincarnation and has accepted that, they likely still wouldn't allow a duplicate mask, correct?

"Which leaves, unfortunately, a ghost. I'm...willing to say that she's a 'real ghost', whatever that means to us, because she has appeared to multiple of us. She can also interact with real objects. But if Ama-Sephia lived to adulthood, why is she a child?"

Takumi realized he was getting slightly off-topic.

Reincarnation... He supposed such a thing wasn't impossible. But...

It was also fully possible that she never really 'died', not fully. And if that were the case...

"With hemoanima... I suppose anything is possible. But we probably won't know unless she contacts us again," he sighs, "Unfortunately... the note doesn't tell us much. Seems to be a personal message."

He hands the note and transcription back to Hiruko.

'I am sorry I seem odd. I mean no harm. You Star Children are all strange, but you want to help everyone, not just yourselves. I wanted to thank you. I am sorry I cannot speak the words to say this with heart.'

The note only served to remind her why people felt so cautious around her. The rest of her team had happily accepted the gifts the child had offered, but she turned them down. She could only see danger, for her team and for them. Even still, she couldn't quite think she was wrong. If she'd had more information maybe she could act differently, but a child coming up to her with flowers was suspicious. People use children for evil things. Children are vulnerable and impressionable, too easily lead astray.

But then again, given what he knew... Well.

"I'd imagine you're right. Like I said, she approached myself and Aotsuki before, no reason to think she wouldn't again. Here, or in your timeline," he replies, noting how the very distracting cat tail and ears twitched slightly as she sat there. He was pretty sure that meant she was upset about something.

As much as he has... a bit of a thing for kemonomimi, he wasn't exactly the most skilled with animals or reading them.

All of the joy and pride, relief, progress. Happiness. Having it all ripped out from under him and burned to ash, leaving only pure, unyielding fury and despair. Feelings that brought him to where and what he was now.

It hung bitter on his tongue. He should be enjoying Hiruko's teasing. But with remembrance came the guilt. She wasn't his Hiruko. That was someone... he couldn't go back to. Not with things the way they are now.

"Hey, Eito... you're good with languages and stuff, right?" He asked shyly.

@teamleader-takumi

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | NIGHT | A SECOND NOTE]]

Eito had just seen the other timeline's Hiruko off, checking the time. Good, still had quite a bit of time. He was surprised the translation effort went as smoothly as it did, with having to relay information between the two...

Something in his mind nagged about that not quite being right-

He blinked... wait... what... wasn't right...?

He was interrupted by yet another inter-timeline visitor. With another note. What was going on over there? Would they be getting notes too?

"Mmmhm," he says, welcoming the other timeline's Takumi into his room and locking the door behind him, "Clearly, I'm on everyone's minds tonight. Any particular reason you and Hiruko-san chose to approach me separately on this matter?"

He looked over the note Takumi was holding. It sure was the same kind of writing he didn't quite understand. But... Takumi-san did.

He huffed a little in frustration. At least this note was a LOT shorter.

"Well, unfortunately for me, I'm actually pretty useless when it comes to ancient Futuran," he shrugs, somewhat dramatically, "Alas, my only use here is going to be acting as a mouthpiece for horrible Takumi-san, since he's the one with the actual knowledge. Thankfully, this note is much shorter than Hiruko-san's so it shouldn't run into my later... engagement..."

He felt... dizzy. Didn't he feel this way earlier?

A flash of memory. Oh no, no no not...

Ugly, wretched, vile, duplicitous Takumi, liar liar liar traitor traitor traitor...

Eito's breath hitched, as he gripped his hair and shivered, before going limp, collapsing sideways onto the bed. His eyes were half-lidded and vacant, like his mind had been forcibly shut down.

A twitch, a few blinks, and he slowly raised himself off of the bed and wordlessly got down to the floor, fishing something out from a secret compartment hidden under the bed - some kind of airtight container, and a messily-annotated notebook.

His movements and posture made it clear it wasn't Eito.

It was his other self.

"...Why..." he whispered, his eyes filled with pain and terror. This pain he was feeling, it wasn't his. No, it wasn't his- it was Eito's. The feeling of being controlled, the one thing Eito feared most. It consumed him, his body shivering and shaking as he took a step back.

Well. No matter. He sits himself back down on the bed and begins working, tearing out a blank page from the book and writing on it as he flips between his book and the note.

"Like I said," he replies, flipping through the notebook, glancing between it and the note, "I'm not exactly fluent. I need my notes, and I have some things in my research I don't want Aotsuki knowing about."

Part of him wanted to say he didn't get it, but that was a lie. He knew his other self was concerned about Eito's agency, here. Truthfully, he didn't like it either. But it's not like he had much of a choice. Just an unfortunate reality of their situation.

"Thankfully, yours is MUCH shorter, and the information is still fresh in my mind. I shouldn't be long; I'll give control back to Aotsuki, and as far as he'll remember, we just communicated back and forth to get this done."

"Don't you trust him?" he asked quietly, watching his other self from afar. He refused to move closer, and he couldn't will himself to move away. "Wouldn't it be better to work together with him? He's so smart... and he's trying so hard to help this time..."

His own words made him think of his Eito. Of the information Takumi himself hiding from him. But, despite how similar that was in principle, it was different. Takumi wasn't hiding it willingly. No, there were so many times where he nearly came out and blurted the whole truth to Eito. He wanted the other to know so bad, he wanted to show how much he was willing to help Eito heal and work together with him, but- but-

Something kept holding him back. Something foreign. Something outside his control.

He had been wondering this to himself for a while, never bringing it up to the others, never wanting to actively think about it. But, he had been wondering just... just how much of his actions were his own? There had been so many powerful beings controlling him, actively making themselves known to him, but what if there were beings that kept themselves hidden? A puppeteer with invisible strings wrapped around Takumi's whole body, forcing him to move in ways he didn't want to.

Maybe that's why he had been so complicit in everything up until now.

But...

"Trust... is an odd thing with Aotsuki," he replies, choosing his words carefully, "He can be fickle, and vindictive. And likes to take risks, with that luck of his. And while yes, he IS smart... Some of the things I'm looking into could... Distract him, or make him spiral back into old habits, for lack of a tactful way of saying it."

Basically, shit could make him go crazy again, or DO something exceptionally stupid or crazy. Like HE did, back then.

He should never have connected.

"And the fact that he's working so hard is part of it, too," he says, and means it, "I don't want him to lose sight of the changes he's achieved, and I don't want to add more to the already-huge workload he's dealing with. My problems can stay my problems, and I can do the legwork as far as finding a way to cure what's going on with his body. He can focus on helping this timeline's Sumino-san get through the 100 Days."

"Then... can't you at least communicate with him what you're doing?" He then asked, "Maybe figure out a system so he doesn't have to worry about losing time. So you don't have to change his memories. It just- it just feels wrong."

All he could think of were the memories he experienced from his Eito. The pain and suffering. The empty nights alone and scared. Not knowing when the monsters were coming back or what they were planning next. That's why he was trying to hard to win over his Eito's trust. Why he was putting so much effort into caring for him. Because no one else ever did, and that-

Takumi sighed, "Believe it or not, it was one of the first things that came up in discussions, once he became aware of me being here," he replied, looking up from his notes at the younger Takumi.

If the younger Takumi were paying attention, he'd notice the older one inhabiting Eito's body seemed even more tired and worn than usual, his eyes reflecting age that went beyond what he may have claimed before.

Why were humans so greedy? Why couldn't they leave well alone? Why did they have to escalate things? None of this was fair.

It wasn't fair.

He felt like he was being scolded by his father or a teacher, sitting in his little seat while his other self sifted through papers. Like he had done something wrong. Like he was a child.

Well, he was a child. 17 was still not legally an adult, which would mean he would be considered a minor. Though, law hardly mattered on a battlefield with magic blood powers.

He thought back to the little girl who handed him the flowers and the note that brought him here in the first place, something to distract him from all the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. Her mask... it looked familiar, like he had seen it before. But, it didn't match any of the commanders' masks. So then-

The statue.

It was the same mask as the statue they saw when his other self saved those Futuran kids. Eito also said the note was written in ancient Futuran. Could the girl be from the past?

He passes the note and translation back to the other Takumi.

'You are the leader of the Star Children? I sense great kindness. Why does the blood of Our Home flow through you? I wish to understand.'

"Between this and Hiruko's note, it seems like this entity is trying to gauge whether we're truly a threat or not, and figure out our connection to Futurum," he says, closing his notebook, "Which... I mean. You, me, and Hiruko know. But I'm sure it would seem strange for invaders from the sky to have the power of what's supposed to be this world's God."

"Yeah... her mask looked the exact same," he explained in hushed tones, "But she was too young..."

The image of the little girl appeared in his mind's eye, then the image of the statue. Same mask, but different ages. He wondered if she was possibly a ghost, but the items she handed him were very real and very tangible.

How much of his own theories could he reasonably share?

"Well, remember the story I brought up with those kids earlier? Could be... some kind of envoy? Though unless it were really possible for mortals to become gods, or something close to it, that'd be unlikely. Considering Ama-Sophia's been dead for... five, six thousand years? Give or take?" Takumi suggested, trying to sound incredulous. Truthfully, it wasn't impossible, but...

Did she still exist in that place? Or were there places outside of it where such things could exist?

He shifted gears, ready to put out another theory. He didn't want this Takumi to look too far into these things. Far too risky.

Shifting his position, slouching a bit and resting his chin on his hand, he continued languidly, "Though... not sure they'd wear the same mask. Unless, of course, she predates that rule. Another thought is she COULD be some sort of... hemoanima echo. Every living thing on this planet contains SOME measure of cryptoglobin, it's not completely out there to think she's something left of a really devoted follower, or maybe a younger echo of Ama-Sephia herself..."

After all, he himself was now considered "immortal" thanks to Vee.

Speaking of Vee, Takumi hadn't heard or seen the strange spirit in a while. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and was trying to keep it to himself so no one worried, but lately, his neck was starting to itch again. A familiar itching, like how it felt when the wound first healed after Vee revived him. He didn't mention to anyone about the strange bouts of vertigo he was experiencing sometimes, or how he would get a tickle in his throat.

He couldn't worry everyone with it. They all had enough on their plates as it was, and he was supposed to be their leader. If their leader started to falter, everything would collapse.

"Gives me leads and references, something to talk about and build trust with the locals. Works out for Eito, too. He hasn't talked about it much, but he wants to try to get everyone to rally behind the people down here, instead of the satellite," Takumi smiles a bit, genuinely proud of how far his old friend and nemesis has come. He didn't even notice his slip-up, "And while he... well. He still hates humanity. But he seems to have come around to the idea that... maybe they can learn and aren't beyond hope."

He sits back down on the bed and smiles at his younger self. He knew how sad and disappointed he must be with him, the man he'd become. He had no idea how selfish and wretched he really was.

He realized perhaps a brief explanation was in order.

"Ama-Sephia was one of the first of the Paragons, and pretty rightly one of the most revered. In addition to her attunement with nature and receiving the Divine Blood, she was said to be a miraculous healer," he starts, laying the groundwork, "But another part of her story is her older brother, Dammuz. But... that's where it gets strange. Because aside from a few key points? Almost no records of the guy remain. It seems to be some unspoken rule to not even depict him.

"Okay, I can do that," he nodded. Here's to hoping that the flower girl could understand him, at least.

After a slight pause, he asked, "May I speak to Eito now? I wanted to hear his opinion on all of this."

He smiled at the other, taking a minute to go over the conversation and events in his head; what parts Eito needed to remember, and what parts would be redacted, "And... of course. I'll see you later, Sumino-kun."

Though he didn't collapse this time, the expression on Eito's face went blank, eyes glazing over. Almost trancelike, as the events of the evening were molded and shaped in his mind, concealing his headmate's machinations and control.

He blinks a few times, and the spark of consciousness returns to his eyes.

"I-" his voice barely managed to squeak out. At first, he thought it was because of his anxiety, but, then he tried again.

"I-I think... I..."

He was losing his voice.

He needed to leave. Now.

Takumi quickly stood up out of his seat.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying prone on the carpet, unsure of what just happened. How did he end up on the floor? What was he doing, again? He slowly blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the strange fog that enveloped his head.

His brow furrowed in concern as Takumi got to his feet, clearly in a hurry. Eito started to get up himself, "Takumi-kun? Are you al-"

But he didn't get to finish his question before gasping in shock as Takumi started to crumple to the floor. Eito lunged forward to catch him, gagging and reflexively covering his mouth as proximity intensified the smell of rotting flesh and overwhelming florals, phantom needles grazing against his cheek as the smaller boy's head lolled limply against his shoulder.

Carefully, Eito lowered him down to the ground, making sure his head didn't hit anything as he kneeled down, easing Takumi down on his side. He looked over the unconscious boy as best he could. What was happening?

He spotted a little redness - well, more redness than usual, given how he appeared to Eito - peeking out from under the choker the boy wore. Skin irritation?

Eito felt anxiety pool in his own stomach. Surely, surely it couldn't be...?

As he reached out to gently investigate, however, Takumi slowly blinked his eyes open, coming to from the syncope that had overtaken him.

"Ah, Takumi-kun," he gasped, retracting his hand and resting it on his knee, "Are... are you alright? You can hear and understand me, right? What's going on? Do... do you need anything?"

Then everything came flooding back. The note, his other self, his throat-

Oh. He passed out. That's what happened.

Takumi opened his mouth, ready to explain that he was fine and just wasn't feeling great, but he couldn't get the words out. He physically couldn't speak the words he wanted to say. He tried a second time, but his throat only made a gross gargling noise. Takumi scrunched his nose in disgust.

That, at the very least, was a relief.

Relief, however, swiftly shifted into concern, his gaze sharpening onto Takumi's throat as what he assumed was an attempt to speak resulted only in a pained gurgle. The sound was even more revolting to his ears than if he had actually spoken.

Because he knew full well what had caused Takumi's voice to escape him. The only question was... why? Why was the wound reopening. Guilt began to eat away at the fringes of his heart. Of all the reckless, impulsive...!

His face contorted into a slightly pained expression as he brought a hand to his chest, reflexive, to suppress the disgust and nausea that was beginning to billow up in his throat. But not towards Takumi. Not this time.

The signing caught his attention; he had no idea this Takumi knew any sign language.

"The neck wound," he replied curtly, gaze darkening as a new wave of guilt hit him, "Why? Why would it be reopening after all this time? Have you tried any sort of conventional means of sealing it? Stitches? Surgery? . . . The Revive-O-Matic?"

Eito's thoughts were beginning to race. Surely, surely there was something they could do.

She made it up to the roof and found Eito's door. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently.

[[ROUTE ???+1 | DAY 36 | LATE EVENING | A SECOND DATE]]

Okay, alright. It was last minute, but things were going well.

His double had somehow gotten back to his timeline, and Kako had already made the move to meet with Sirei tonight. Darumi was keeping watch over Takumi, at least until it was time for them to make their move. Shouma was keeping watch by the Infirmary, and he himself had managed to send Nigou - gullible as he is - on a bit of a wild goose chase just outside the grounds. It was astonishing what you could convince him of, as long as you framed it as coming from Sirei.

And to boot, those embarrassing rabbit accessories had finally come off.

Ideally, he would have talked to Yugamu about removing the bomb in him. But unfortunately, time hadn't allowed that particular conversation. And for whatever reason, the guy had locked himself up in the Bio Lab. No huge loss - the way they were doing this, Sirei wouldn't even know WHO was striking him until it was too late; while setting off the bomb in time was entirely possible, and thoroughly unpleasant, there'd be no way he'd have time to remove their Revive-O-Matic data.

And with what he knew from Takumi-san, they'd be able to pull this off without damaging any critical memory or data. Which would be vital, in terms of rallying everyone in sparing this planet without airing out the time travel secret.

You're really doing this, then? Aren't you rushing things a bit?

"You know full well I can't abide that... thing, in the Infirmary," Eito replied aloud, a chill running down his spine just thinking about it, "And as such? I refuse to risk letting my Ugly Takumi fall victim to it."

'Your' Takumi, huh? You're both freaks, I swear. Well, whatever. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess. Just hope you know what you're doing.

He paced around as he went over things in his head one more time. Just a few more hours until the scheduled meeting. Any more prep to do...?

The doorbell rings. Who is it at this hour? Did Kako maybe succeed in getting ahold of Yugamu?

"Coming!" He chirps, in the bright and friendly manner most of the current SDU was familiar with.

He did not expect to see someone in a Leap Suit on the other side.

It would be best to ignore them, she decided. They couldn't last forever.

She took off the rest of the suit and crossed her arms. She could feel the ears twitch above her head and her tail swish back and forth. She had to fight not to blush.

There were still a few hours before his own plans would unfold. He could probably help her out.

There was an odd feeling in his mind...

"Takumi-san...?" He brought a hand to his head, a puzzled look on his face.

. . .

Was he... flustered?

"Huh," he brought his hand back down, shrugging with a bemused expression, "Well, it's certainly not what you came here for, Hiruko-san, but it appears you've left my annoying little headmate at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day. But, seriously. What can we help you with?"

The look on her face demanded he stop clowning around.

"But surely, that wouldn't be enough of a reason to risk jumping timelines, no? I assume the reason you're here is because you need some kind of specialized knowledge?" He sits down across from Hiruko on a soft cushion that he'd tucked under the coffee table.

Since welcoming the other three into his circle, and in general trying to do more for himself, his room had gotten filled with all sorts of new things that helped it look less like a room out of a hospital or institution, and more like an actual dorm someone lived in. Extra blankets and pillows in colors that reminded him of the nature he adored, the odd plush, plenty of potted plants, the terrarium for his snails and Jorm's enclosure, even evidence of attempts at new activities. It still smelled incredibly sterile, owing to Eito's aversion to strong smells, but overall, it was far more homey.

He was quite starting to like his room, actually.

Eito takes the note in hand and glances it over. He only had the vaguest idea as to what he might be looking at.

Ancient Futuran? But... it looks recently written...? Where in the world did this come from...?

"Well, Takumi-san seems to recognize this, and is utterly flabbergasted that you have such a thing," he says, "The script is ancient, but clearly, this was written very recently. Quite the mystery..."

She shook her head. She worried for the child. There were too many dangers for their groups to be interacting. Her people could get spooked. The Futurans may punish them for speaking to the invaders. Sirei could find out. It was best for children to stay where it was safe and far away from the war.

Eito clutched his head. He felt... tired. Overwhelmingly so, it was if his thoughts were being dragged underwater.

This was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling like this.

Takumi...?

"Ah... Hiru...ko... saaan... someth... hel..."

No, no...! He had to fight this, he wouldn't keep being controlled...!

It was as if something was unplugged in his mind; his eyes and expression went blank, and he went totally limp where he sat.

A marionette, with strings severed.

One arm twitches, then another, as eyelids flutter and he straightens up, posture notably different, rolling his shoulder as he meets eyes with Hiruko with a smile.

"Hello again, Hiruko," Takumi says, slightly apologetic, "Sorry, you had to see that. But I'm not really in the mood to play 'telephone' here. Plus... looking into a few things I'd rather not he know about, yet."

He stands up from the table, and moves over to the bed, getting down on his hands and knees and reaching under it. He finds the panel hes looking for, shifting it out of the way and removing a notebook and a small, airtight container, taking both back over to the table and seating himself next to Hiruko on the couch.

Takumi opens up the container, revealing several incerdibly old-looking scrolls, and flips open the notebook, and begins examining the note Hiruko had brought. The notebook was filled with similar symbols, along with more recognizable ones - Futuran language, in different iterations, as well as charts with their own Kanji, katakana, and hiragana, and letters from other languages as well. Normally, this kind of work would make Takumi want to throw himself off of the roof of the Academy, but he'd built up quite a bit of patience over the years and besides. He had SEVERAL mysteries to unravel.

He takes Hiruko's note in hand, flipping through his notebook and comparing, "This one... shouldn't take too long, I think. I recognize quite a few words here, already. From what I can tell, it seems more like a personal message, or... trying to make contact, than anything."

"Whomever that child is though... I don't know if we need to worry about them being in danger," says Takumi, as he tears a blank page out of the book and begins transcribing what he can, "As Aotsuki was saying before I interrupted? That same child appeared in our timeline to give us flowers as well. Both of us."

"I was planning on getting his input too." She remarked, but it wasn't a strong objection. "He might have an interesting perspective if we listened to him."

She was grateful for another opportunity to talk to Takumi though. Maybe one day conversations like these would be easier. And maybe the things they'd be able to do and say would be freer.

The very cute distraction that was a cat-eared Hiruko watching him so intently didn't make the translating go any faster.

It was a shame Eito was busy tonight. He'd love to spend more time with Hiruko. In general, not just tonight. It was one of the biggest issues with his current living situation, as it were.

He paused a minute to think about her question, tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook. Takumi hums in consideration a moment, before standing and heading over to Eito's desk and retrieving a worn book from the drawer. It was considerably more recent than the scrolls he'd retrieved earlier, and looked to be some sort of religious or history book. He returned to the couch, and began flipping through the pages.

"Not specifically, and while Dahl'xia does love his history and is incredibly dedicated to his faith, the man's love really seems to be the stories that get passed around after the fact. Folk tales and legends, myths and stuff," he responds, slowing down once he'd reached a certain section, "But something that stuck out to me was the idea that as wild or embellished as a lot of those stories could be, there was usually some little grain of truth in them. That's part of why I don't completely count them out when looking for information."

It actually brought to mind something he heard from his very first Eito. It was a story about some massive statues that had been moved from one place to another a very long time ago on Earth, and the historians or whatever studying them had no idea how the ancient people managed it. Upon asking the native people, they were told a story about how the statues simply 'walked' there; and while that was what their legends stated, the truth wasn't that far off - they'd tied ropes to the heads of the statues, and using teams of people rocked them back and forth to effectively 'walk' them to their destination.

The answer was right in front of them, but the perspective was completely dismissed because of the source and how the information got passed down over the centuries.

Eventually, he stopped at what appeared to be a print of a painting in the book, and turned showed it to Hiruko, "Did the design of the mask look anything like this?"

The painting in the photo depicted a mature feminine figure, clothed in simple robes and holding a small handful of florals - blooddrops, arnica, yarrow, sage... and an unknown flower that seemed to radiate a silver glow. She was surrounded by what looked to be sick and wounded, a leper whose hand she held appeared to be healing from the touch alone. The scene had them set in some kind of shrine in deep forest.

Her tail flicked back and forth lazily as he worked. She...really would have preferred to come without it. She wondered how much longer she'd be stuck like this. Was fixing it another mission she was going to have to go on?

"I suppose stories do tend to have some truth to them; still, too often they seem to lead to chasing shadows and bad endings." Maybe it was a bitter take from her, especially since she seemed to be doing the same again. But it seemed every time they started digging into the local myths and legends, things always went wrong. Maybe it was safer if she was doing it on her own, but she really wanted to keep the team out of this.

She was dragged out of her sullen thoughts by the painting. The mask of course stood out, but she couldn't help but wonder more about their seemingly healing touch. It was possibly a metaphor, but more likely this figure was someone extremely powerful.

"A cult would be unlikely, in this case," he says, taking the book back and glaring holes into a conspicuously open, empty spot behind the figure in the portrait, "For one, I don't think any cult worshipping a Paragon would recreate their masks for their own use. If there's one thing I've learned, its that they take that SUPER seriously. It's never the same design, and you'd better not recreate it for yourself.

"Second, a cult would be... really redundant here. Ama-Sephia is one of the most widely-revered historical Paragons. Supposedly, one of the very first to gain their power from their 'God'; the first 'Paragon of Nature', and often referred to as 'The First Healer' as well. You'd have a hard time finding a Futuran that DIDN'T venerate her, to some degree."

He trusted Hiruko enough to voice his concerns here. There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. Not where gods were concerned.

There were no coincidences. No strokes of bad luck. It was all intentional, all designed. What once was one became two, became shattered, and must be one again. The cycle repeats, again and again, until made whole. The Blood that binds will ascend them all, no more pain, no more danger. It ends forever.

He refused to let that happen. That wasn't the protection, or the ending he'd wanted...!

Takumi remembered. All of it.

He swallowed thickly, becoming aware of the sweat on his brow as he steadied himself, suppressing the power that threatened to tear Eito's body to shreds.

She looked at him seriously, her eyes filled with worry.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no...

"S-sorry, agh, just. Gimme a minute," Takumi said between breaths, squeezing her hands reassuringly, "I'm- I'm fine, now. Promise."

Fine as he could be, at any rate.

He could tell Hiruko some of it. At the very least, to ease her mind. She'd understand if he didn't want to get into all of it now, surely.

He removed Eito's glasses. It wasn't like they were the correct prescription; right now it was only contributing to the headache.

"I... when chasing that line of thought, I just... remembered something. A lot of things, actually. And... well. Put plainly, I've been suppressing my hemoanima by... Quite a lot. Eito's body can't quite handle it," it was the truth, or at least partially, "It was enough to shake me, and... I lost control, for a second. I don't want it to cause him more harm than it already has."

He pulled his hands away, shakily returning to the task at hand.

"Alright." She agreed to move on, but promised herself she'd think more on Takumi's situation later. "If the masks are as important as you say, I'm willing to rule out reincarnation as well. Unless everyone around here knows she's the reincarnation and has accepted that, they likely still wouldn't allow a duplicate mask, correct?

"Which leaves, unfortunately, a ghost. I'm...willing to say that she's a 'real ghost', whatever that means to us, because she has appeared to multiple of us. She can also interact with real objects. But if Ama-Sephia lived to adulthood, why is she a child?"

Takumi realized he was getting slightly off-topic.

Reincarnation... He supposed such a thing wasn't impossible. But...

It was also fully possible that she never really 'died', not fully. And if that were the case...

"With hemoanima... I suppose anything is possible. But we probably won't know unless she contacts us again," he sighs, "Unfortunately... the note doesn't tell us much. Seems to be a personal message."

He hands the note and transcription back to Hiruko.

'I am sorry I seem odd. I mean no harm. You Star Children are all strange, but you want to help everyone, not just yourselves. I wanted to thank you. I am sorry I cannot speak the words to say this with heart.'

The note only served to remind her why people felt so cautious around her. The rest of her team had happily accepted the gifts the child had offered, but she turned them down. She could only see danger, for her team and for them. Even still, she couldn't quite think she was wrong. If she'd had more information maybe she could act differently, but a child coming up to her with flowers was suspicious. People use children for evil things. Children are vulnerable and impressionable, too easily lead astray.

But then again, given what he knew... Well.

"I'd imagine you're right. Like I said, she approached myself and Aotsuki before, no reason to think she wouldn't again. Here, or in your timeline," he replies, noting how the very distracting cat tail and ears twitched slightly as she sat there. He was pretty sure that meant she was upset about something.

As much as he has... a bit of a thing for kemonomimi, he wasn't exactly the most skilled with animals or reading them.