#bicsbec

Gus was taken with movies. It turned out those silver disks made for terrible cookies, but created incredible projections onto the rectangular crystal ball in Luz’s living room. They were called movies, images that were engraved into the disk and told the same story over and over again. None of them were real, showing stories in the stars and underwater and in fictional lands. But there was one that gripped Gus, one that shook him and told him to pay attention. It was called The Apparitionist. It was about a man that did human illusions, magic “tricks.”

Gus had to learn them.

“Hey, Luz, Hunter,” he said, peering over Luz’s shoulder at the dining table. Hunter sat on the other end, struggling to keep his eyes open. They both snapped to attention at Gus’s presence, Luz slapping her hands over her notebook and Hunter crossing his arms over the book in front of him. Totally not suspicious. Gus rolled his eyes.

After wrangling Belos at the Day of Unity, Gus had a vivid impression of that monster’s worst memories and what he suspected Luz and Hunter were keeping quiet as they researched ways back home: Belos had been human, the human that created the portal door, he’d created Grimwalkers, which seemed like something Hunter didn’t want to talk about, and Luz had helped him unknowingly. They were completely innocent, victims to Belos’s vile plots, yet they seemed completely guilt ridden. 

Gus wished they wouldn’t be. But he wasn’t going to pressure them into talking before they were ready.

“Gustonimo!” Luz exclaimed nervously. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Okay, so,” he started, spreading his hands like he was setting the scene, generously ignoring how awkward and obvious they were being, “there’s this movie, and it had magic, like human magic, and I need to learn everything about it, so I need to borrow your library card.”

“Like, close up magic?” Luz asked, rubbing at her eye and relaxing at the sight of Gus’s theatrics. “You could look up videos on MewTube.”

“Really? That’s all it takes?”

“Well, no–actually, there might be paywalls,” Luz said, starting to lift up the covers of books littered on the surface of the table. “Oh, here it is,” she handed Gus her library card, “look up videos, but check out some books, too. Those are free.”

“Yes! Thank you, Luz!” He hugged her head before bolting out of the dining room.

“Take Willow! And look both ways before crossing the street!”

“Got it!”

Willow was outside with Amity, watching Ghost sunbathe. The palisman was belly up, stretching her little arms out on the grass. Amity was visibly enamored. Gus considered Amity lucky to have such a “normal-looking” palisman; apparently Emmiline was too big for Human Realm standards, so she couldn’t just hang around unsupervised. 

“Hey, Gus,” Willow greeted warmly. “You headed somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, snapping out of his thoughts. “I’m going to the library to check out some books. You guys wanna come?”

“More research?”

“Sort of? I wanna figure out how to do human magic,” he said, wiggling his fingers mysteriously. 

“Sounds fun,” Willow said, standing from the porch steps. “I might look into native flowers. I keep trying to conjure different plants, but they come out wrong. Then they die.” She shrugged. “Might help if I understand the stuff that’s from here.”

“Come here, Ghost,” Amity called, dusting herself off. “I’ve been meaning to check out the library. Like, the rest of it. See how the human side lives, y’know. When I go with Luz it’s always strictly business. She’s always so stressed, I don’t have the heart to ask to wander around.”

“Cool,” Gus brightened, “then we better take care of these.” He waved a circle, hiding their ears with an illusion. Amity’s hand hovered over her ear, something sad lingered in the gesture for a moment, but then it was gone. 

They made their way over to the library, discussing the things they wanted to look up first and looking both ways before crossing every road, as instructed. They almost got run over only two times, which was less than the first few times they’d been outside.

Plenty of things were different from the library back home. Nothing floated or tried to eat your hand if you had a late fee. But a lot was the same, like the strict rule of silence and the frown on the librarians’ faces when they thought you might be a particularly loud visitor.

Gus presented the librarian on shift Luz’s card. A corner of her mouth tightened. 

“Ms. Noceda still has a great number of books on loan,” she said, not bothering to look at the light box on her desk. She usually did that to revise the number of books on loan. They’d become familiar faces, it seemed.

“She’s bringing them by on Friday,” Amity said, which was true. Hunter and Luz went through piles of books by the week, always making sure to circulate out as many books as possible. 

“Yeah, okay,” she relented easily, “just–don’t bring out so many. She and the other one usually max out the amount they can take.”

“No problem,” Gus smiled pleasantly. She returned a tired smile and gestured them along so she could deal with the grouchy-looking man behind them. 

Gus had seen Luz pull out the drawers that held catalog cards rather carelessly without much consequence, so he braved a handle. And…nothing. He still had his hand, and there were no teeth, just yellowing cards that hadn’t been handled in years. Interesting.

His fingers glided over the Ma- drawer, not really knowing what he was looking for. He went through various drawers, subject, title, author, he was ready to spend the rest of the day hunched over looking for this. 

And there it was. A handbook. He assumed it was old, the year of publication started with 19. He memorized the section numbers. 793.8. The rest didn’t seem important, and from what he could tell, similar books seemed to be kept together. The 793.8 section seemed like a promising place to start.

And it was. Card tricks, sleight of hand, juggling, whatever the heck ventriloquism was. 

He sat in the corridor and started pulling out books. Introductions and summaries that sounded like what he was looking for. He wasn’t in a hurry, this was a new form of observation. Where Illusion spells needed observation and patience, human magic appeared to need study, practice, and patience. A similar enough endeavor. 

He felt himself slip back into the days of his childhood, producing wonderous illusions that lit up his dad’s face. 

He took mental notes and mimed instructions as he read them, getting a feel for movements and the flow of misdirection.

“Hey, Gus,” a voice startled him out of a section on forcing cards. He looked up to find Amity. She was wearing a weird smile.

“Hey,” he said, a little cautious. He and Amity weren’t really in the habit of talking. But it wasn’t like she was unpleasant company either.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized. “Can I sit with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, watching her sit and pick up a book from his pile. “Interested?”

Her cheeks were suddenly pink. “Uh, kinda?”

“Really?” Gus lit up, ready to fill her in on all he’d gathered. Misdirection and interest and attention and patter and—

“I’d been sort of wondering if you could, uh, teach me. Um, Illusion magic, I mean,” she said quickly. “Just a few spells, nothing too complicated.”

Oh?

He must’ve made a face because she quickly added, “If it’s no bother, obviously. I, um—”

“Why?” It was all he could think to say. “I mean, why now? Why illusions?”

“I…I miss my siblings,” she said with a small shrug. “They were both in the Illusion Track for such a long time. I guess–I never knew what all the fuss was about, I want to understand them better. Maybe feel closer to them? I don’t know. It’s silly…”

Gus smiled. He was familiar with the feeling. Wasn’t that what he was doing in the library in the first place anyway? “It’s not silly. I think it’s sweet.”

Amity returned his smile and flipped open the book in her hand. “So, uh, how do these…conjurings work… Conjurings? Why are they called that? They’re not conjuring anything.”

Gus shrugged with a laugh. “I don’t know. Humans are weird like that. They call the really good ones “masters of illusion” or “wizards” and junk like that.”

Amity chuckled. “Magic really isn’t a thing here, huh?”

“It really isn’t,” Gus said, shaking his head and returning to his place in the book.

“Need help bringing this to a table? Willow found an empty one.”

Gus looked up again. “Uh, yeah,” he smiled, realizing he wasn’t alone. Not like he’d been when he was a kid. He didn’t have to isolate himself and quietly practice because he didn’t have friends his age. He could talk to his friends, show them things he was excited about, and they would listen. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“So, how was it again that humans do magic?”

His smile grew wider. 

It was past lunch when Gus and Willow walked out of the library with a book each. Amity listened to both of them rave about the things they found out, Willow going on about landscaping Mrs. Noceda’s garden and all the techniques she could try to experiment with. Gus was excited to get home to practice and binge MewTube videos on Luz’s phone. 

This time they only almost got run over once. Gus promptly bragged about it as they stepped through the door.

Luz always fussed over them when they went out alone.

“Are you okay? Did you look both ways?”

“Yes and yes,” Gus said, sitting down next to Hunter. 

“The carriage screamed when it got close,” Amity said as Luz inspected her and Willow.

“But you’re not hurt?”

“No, we’re fine,” Amity said, squeezing her hand. That seemed to convince Luz. “By the way, the library lady is expecting your books back on Friday.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Luz said, wandering back to her seat. “We’re almost done anyway.”

“Anything new?” Willow asked, more curious than hopeful.

Hunter did a so-so gesture, but Luz just shook her head. 

“That’s too bad,” she said, not particularly disappointed. They’d gotten used to these results. 

“So,” Hunter nudged Gus, “find anything useful?”

“You bet I did,” Gus brightened. “Luz, do you have any cards?”

Using Illusions as a crutch, Gus demonstrated the basic idea behind a split deck and the pinky hold. He knew the cards sat awkwardly in his hand and he needed to adjust his grip better, but Hunter and the others could still appreciate the gist of the trick. 

Luz had lived in the Demon Realm for months, yet she seemed fascinated by the manipulation. Gus understood why. 

Magic in the Demon Realm was easy to accomplish. A bile sack you’re born with. It’s like breathing, it’s something witches are meant to do naturally.

Creating an Illusion took practice, growing a Plant took care, creating an Abomination took craftsmanship, but none of it was beyond grasp. Human magic could be fumbled, was easy to dismantle, was meant to deceive the eyes, creating a veil over what they thought they saw. There was something exciting about being fooled. 

They set to clearing the table for a late lunch, but Gus continued practicing. He was too wrapped up to eat. Hunter watched him through a mouthful of fried maduros.

He proved to be good audience practice, following Gus’s patter easily, asking him to repeat the manipulation again to see if he could catch the moment the illusion began. It was good practice. The more he repeated the trick, the easier the cards felt in his hand, the smoother the movement, the less he needed his Illusions to cover his fumbles, the more confident he grew.

As Hunter kept his eyes trained on Gus’s hands, Gus watched Hunter. He couldn’t help but smile at his best friend, grateful for his enthusiastic interest.

Emmiline liked MewTube. She never chirped much, but Gus knew. His bond with her was a silent one, of quiet knowledge and understanding. There was also the fact that both her eyes focused when a video played. 

But more than that, Emmiline loved Gus. He knew because one of her eyes would focus on him if he spoke as they watched a video.

His fingers ran idly along her split ridge and her little horns as he took sporadic notes on the video playing. His mind wandered and snagged on words that drove him down different streams of thought as his eyes grew accustomed to spotting sleights and his brain registered old information that could be overlooked.

“Emmiline,” he started absently, then faltered when the meaning of his thoughts registered, “do–do you think— Do you ever think about home?”

She turned away from the screen, tilting her head in a worried manner. One eye tracked his hands, the other watched his mouth. She did this with his Illusions, his close up magic, and his ramblings. His confidant in all matters serious and silly. She listened with an endearing attentiveness that melted Gus’s heart. That alone provided some comfort.

“Like, how do you think everyone’s doing? It can’t be good, right? Are the kids our age alone? Is Matt okay without his brother? Is he—”

His hand slacked around the pencil. Emmiline chirped curiously. 

“Well, what if…what if…” Emmiline made her way up his arm and curled her tail around his neck, a small hug, his palisman wrapping around him as best she could. “Do you think they’re okay?”

She gave him a reassuring chirp. His stomach felt funny and warm. An ache that made his leg bounce. He knew it wasn’t any good to dwell and build worst-case scenarios in his head. It gave him nightmares about his dad being…not okay. 

Sometimes it felt like time had stopped in the Demon Realm, like everything froze the moment the portal door closed. Not to stop the bad thing, but because it was too much bad. Overloaded, overwhelmed. Like reality couldn’t handle that amount of bad.

He also couldn’t handle that amount of bad.

So he tried not to think about it. Tried not to miss his dad and his friends so much. Tried not to dwell.

He was safe, in the Human Realm. Learning human magic and immersing himself in the culture he so eagerly wanted to understand. It was exciting!

But it also left a warm pit in his stomach, often confusing in its signals. 

He sighed.

“I know I’ve said that I want to go home a lot,” he said, running a gentle knuckle under her chin. “It’s almost a catchphrase at this point, but I don’t think I even want that. I just want things to be normal. I want the grass to be red and the moon not to be sucking the life out of everything and I want my dad.” His voice cracked near the end. He hated being so scared.

Emmiline’s head nudged his cheek, understanding, empathy, comfort, and solidarity rolled up into a single gesture.

Gus loved Emmiline, his little piece of home. 

It was the weekend, which meant Mrs. Noceda would tear through the house with a loud machine. Gus and Hunter were the first ones up, being so close to that thing’s roar.

“¡Buenos días!” Mrs. Noceda called cheerily as they stumbled into the kitchen. “Sorry for the noise. Saturdays are the only day I have time to get the house in order, with Luz in school and work… Hm…” She turned off the machine, looking at the boys thoughtfully. “Luz isn’t in school yet, Vee is. But she’s always so busy and anxious.”

“Do you need help with chores around the house, Mrs. Noceda?” Hunter asked with some eagerness. He was probably losing his mind with nothing to do, no orders to take, no routine to cling to. 

“Camila is fine, mijo. And no, you kids have been through a lot. I don’t want you worrying.”

“There’s six of us now, though,” Hunter insisted. “That must be overwhelming.”

Hunter was right. Mrs. Noceda seemed almost as exhausted as Hunter.

“What can we do to help?” Gus pipped in. Camila softened. 

“Well, you could start by putting on some music on the stereo. We always put on Manny’s music when we clean,” Camila mused. Manny, Mr. Noceda. “They’re over by the DVD drawer.” 

Hunter walked over, rummaging through the plastic cases. “Any preference?”

“No, no, you boys pick,” she said, hefting up a bucket onto the table and rinsing a rag. “Here, Gus. You can use this to wipe down the counters. No electronics, I’ll get them with the vacuum.”

“You got it, Camila,” Gus said with a smile. He immediately started in the living room, with its decorative tables and the figurines that lived on their surfaces. 

Something that sounded like string and horn instruments began to play from the sound boxes. A voice started singing about searching for something and a welcome party and being part of something. Gus wasn’t sure, some words were harder to pick out than others.

“Oh, Mr. Galaxy! Manny loved him!” Camila chimed, humming along with the tune. 

Hunter smiled, probably relieved that he’d done a good job. 

“What can I do to help, Camila,” he asked again, his nose scrunching at her name. Gus could tell he wanted to be more respectful. 

“Have breakfast,” Camila said, starting to fold the blankets on Gus’s mattress. “That means you, too, Gus. You can start cleaning later.”

Gus found Hunter reading through the list of breakfast foods stuck on the fridge, placed there for their benefit. Hunter was a creature of habit, Gus had come to realize, so he just started pulling out his usual picks: eggs, milk, ham, cinnamon, and bread.

“Gus, could you get the eggs?” Hunter was still reading the paper.

“Sure,” he said, cracking an egg over the frying pan. 

“And the cinnamon.”

“Yep.” He sprinkled it over the running yolk.

That’s how they moved through preparing breakfast, Gus anticipating Hunter’s request, and Hunter moving through the kitchen cleaning up after Gus.

“So,” Willow’s voice came from the dining room, “what’s for breakfast?”

Gus looked over his shoulder to smile at her. Mornings instantly became brighter when Willow was around. She had her exercising clothes on, sweat running down her temples even though it was getting cold out.

“What’d Luz call them? Sunny-Upside-Down eggs?” Gus said, poking at the white part, still kinda liquid.

“With cinnamon?” Willow perked up. 

“That’s right,” Hunter moved to serve her a plate. “Luz doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The ham toast will be done in a bit.”

“Thanks,” Willow smiled warmly, her cheeks turning pink. Gus generously said nothing, as painfully obvious as his friends were about their crushes. “Y’know, Vee was talking about going to the park today.”

“Any lead on getting back?” Hunter asked, rubbing the exhaustion from his eye.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just to get out of the house,” Willow said, taking a seat at the dining table. “You and Luz need to take a break. Get some fresh air.”

“Sounds…”

“Like a good idea,” Gus finished for him. Hunter looked between the two of them, debating in his head a moot point. They were going to the park and taking a break. End of story.

“Yeah, that,” he said with a sigh. He finished lathering the ham in syrup and brought their plates to the table. “So, how’s the human magic going, Gus?”

Gus lit up immediately. 

“Spectacular and dazzling,” he said informatively. “I have a few polished tricks, Emmiline gives me a four-point-five star rating.”

“Four-point-five?” Willow asked.

“She’s highly critical. I appreciate it.”

“I’d love to see one.” 

“Sure, yeah. Let me go get the deck.” 

When he came back with his linoid finish deck, he found Vee inspecting the remains of their cinnamon and eggs in the pan; he hadn’t heard her come down the stairs.

“Alright, Willow,” he said, spreading the cards out in front of her, “pick a card, doesn’t matter which.”

“Okay,” she said, pulling one out from the middle of the pack; he tidied the cards into a stack again.

“I want you to memorize your card and place it wherever you’d like in the deck,” Gus continued with practiced intonation. “Look, I’ll even cover my eyes.”

This was one of his more practiced tricks. It came to him with ease, which meant that it was ready for an audience that consisted of more than his palisman. 

He followed through the motions mechanically, remembering to keep his tone bright, with a final (and classic, if he did say so himself), “Is this your card?”

Willow’s eyes widened, obviously surprised. “Yeah, it is.”

Vee picked up her head, pulling away from the fridge and turning towards them, “You did it?”

“Yeah, that’s Willow’s card,” Hunter confirmed. 

“That was all you. Zero magic,” Vee said, clearly impressed.

“Human magic, baby,” Gus shot her overly confident finger guns. It was the first time he didn’t use magic as a crutch with an audience of people. Truth was, he was over the moon. Now his sleights had Vee’s seal of approval. It made all the fumbles and skids worth it.

“Gus, that’s awesome!” Willow beamed.

“How’d you do it?” Vee asked him.

Gus grinned. “I promised not to tell.”

“Can you do another?” Hunter asked

“Yep! Okay, here we go,” he fanned the cards in his hand. “Watch closely.”

Luz had started school again. Which meant a significant decline in research. Instead of consuming library books, she was under the tutelage of Vee, trying to catch up to the semester and understand everything Vee had covered for her. 

Gus thought that maybe the decrease in work would mean that Hunter would start sneaking out of the house again, but he just seemed tired. He nodded off at the table during dinner and in the middle of conversations. Willow would throw him worried glances, which made Gus worry as well. But beyond odd looks and deeper eyebags, Hunter seemed to be doing an excellent job at ignoring his obvious exhaustion. 

Willow spent her time in Mrs. Noceda’s garden, performing small miracles in what used to be a barren dirt bed. Sometimes Hunter went out to help her, sometimes it was Amity.

Vee was learning how to shift into a new face, they couldn’t have two Luzs walking around Gravesfield. It was slow progress, but she was persistent. She was keeping it a secret from Mrs. Noceda, wanting to surprise her.

Amity had already burned through all of Luz’s Good Witch Azura DVDs (which brought about slideshow nights that she and Luz put together, subjecting the rest of them to the intricacies of each convoluted plot point of both books and movies). 

Gus had been sitting through the special features, trying to understand how they’d accomplished the visual effects of one of them, when Amity brought it up again.

She peered over Vee’s game on the Swap before sitting down to watch the director’s commentary with Gus.

They did that a lot, quietly hang around each other, sometimes sharing the same space while they did different things. Even though she seemed absorbed in her game, Vee would pipe up with commentary of her own as the movie ran again. 

“Everything’s digital now. It doesn’t even look like actual magic. They’re better off using lighting footage,” Vee said, glancing up briefly.

“I think it’s cute how they try,” Gus said, leaning on the couch arm, his cheek squishing against the cushion, Emmiline curled on top of his head. 

Gus didn’t need to look over to know that Amity was vibrating with the attempt to not jump to the film’s defense. 

“Any thoughts, Amity?” Gus asked teasingly. 

“Conn—!” Vee jumped, seemingly holding her tongue. “Concho, this stupid level.”

“I think,” Amity started, overlooking Vee’s outburst, almost biting out the words, “that every film can use a healthy dose of criticism.”

Gus very much enjoyed having more friends to tease beyond Willow and Luz. 

The front door opened, Luz stepping inside looking drained. She dragged her feet over to the couch, dropping her bag beside it and collapsing over the back rest cushions. 

“Hey,” she greeted them weakly. She poked at Amity’s head. “Hi, sweet potato.”

Vee paused her game and reached over for Luz’s bag, checking excitedly for new assignments. Amity twisted around to face Luz, a big smile already on her lips. 

“Hey,” she said blushing. It managed to pull a more genuine smile out of Luz. They were cute. It was gross.

Gus turned his attention back to the screen when he saw them lean in for a kiss. 

“Room. Get one,” he said overdramatically. That got Vee’s attention, making her look up.

“Oh, jeez,” she reached over and threw a pillow over at Luz. Gus handed her another, making them giggle. 

“Where’s Willow and Hunter?” Luz mumbled through the pillow.

“Baking,” Gus supplied. “Something about a healthy distraction.”

Luz hummed, lowering the pillow to peer at the screen.

“’S that Good Witch Azura?” She asked, already knowing the answer and resting her cheek on top of Amity’s head.

“Nope, because you have two projects due,” Vee said, pulling out rubric sheets from the bag. “Come on.”

Luz pouted with a look that said can’t you do it for me? It was fascinating to see a side to Luz that hated schoolwork. Vee was learning to read Luz’s expressions, because she only said, “Mamá said I’m not allowed to do your homework anymore.”

“Fine.”

They went upstairs, Vee taking the steps two at a time and Luz trailing behind grumbling about burnout and how school is pointless.

“Hey, Gus?” Amity started as Gus got up to put the DVD away. It was no use trying to watch it with Luz home, she’d only use it as an excuse to sneak away from her homework. 

“What’s up?”

“Do you remember what I said at the library?”

“Uh, about the catalog system being overly complicated?”

“Well, that too, but no. About, um…”

Illusions.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.”

“Is it still cool? For you to teach me?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said brightening. “We can start right away if you want. It’s not like the crystal thing can be running while Luz still has homework.”

“So, where do we start?”

“Light spells,” he said. Amity made a face and Gus could practically read her mind: baby spells. There was a reason people back home didn’t take Illusions seriously. He produced a prism out of light, a visual aid for Amity. “I know, I know. But Illusions are about optics. They’re projections, light that our eyes pick up. Therefore, we go back to baby spells.”

He saw Amity’s face shift, actively changing gears, a new perspective taking place. Like she’d just accepted a new challenge.

“Get the basics right and you’ll be creating hi-def party tricks in no time,” he finished after playing with the light spectrum for a second longer.

When it came to Illusions, Gus had a natural intuition, years of practice guiding him through the motions, but he knew it was hard. He also knew that without a good foundation, Illusions would crumble, become see-through, lose saturation. So, if he was going to teach Amity, he would demand near perfection from her. But Amity was going to meet him right where he was, ever the pupil striving towards overachievement.

Hunter was sleeping, which was frankly a miracle. Willow had insisted they let him be, but Gus knew he slept like a rock. When he was severely sleep deprived that is, which was most of the time these days. 

So Gus put it to the test, for the sake of levity. He drew up a mini-Gus, who hopped around Hunter’s head and blew raspberries at him.

“Rude,” Willow giggled. “Don’t wake him.”

Gus snorted. Mini-Gus put his hands on his hips, turning to Willow, his eyebrows dramatically raised. “Wake him?” He whisper-shouted, moving to his ear and shoving his head inside. “Wake him!?” His voice seemed to echo. Hunter didn’t stir, not even a little.

Amity’s expression had gone from amusement to awe as she watched mini-Gus balance on Hunter’s nose. 

“How do you do that?” Amity asked, her eyes lighting up as mini-Gus began to hum a Mr. Galaxy song. Hunter had clung to the bard’s music ever since that weekend. Gus knew most of them by heart at this point.

“Patience, young grasshopper,” Gus said mystically, like in the fighting movies Camila fell asleep to. “Resonance comes with practice. You’ll get there.”

“We should really let him rest,” Willow said with a giggle as mini-Gus swung around Hunter’s loose lock of hair. He needed a haircut. “Plus, Vee wanted to show us something today.”

It was something called Tarot, the human version of oracles. Amity wasn’t thrilled, but she listened politely. Gus and Willow bombarded her with questions as Hunter slept soundly on the couch, the coffee table beholding their set-up. 

Gus loved how humans created different ways to understand the world around them and retain a sense of control. Control over fate and the smallest inconvenience during the day, an explanation for senseless things. Taking comfort in knowing. Vee just said it was only human to want those things.

“How’d you learn all of this?” Willow asked her, which made her blush slightly.

She waved a bashful hand. “I, uh, have this really cool friend. I met them at camp, we haven’t talked much since Luz–and you guys–arrived back, uh, here. They’re really into all this human witchy stuff.”

“Can you do a reading?” Gus asked, resisting the urge to inspect a card.

“I’m still learning, but Masha taught me about the Past Present Future spread at camp. They called it an ‘overall vibe check’.” 

“Sounds fun,” Willow said, looking over at Amity.

“They’re harmless, right?” Amity asked.

“As far as I know,” Vee said, shuffling the cards in her hands. “Alright, let’s see.”

The first card on the table was the Six of Cups.

“Alright, cool. Cups usually revolve around friendship and community. But this one is also like nostalgia, like the joy of being a kid and feelings of togetherness. It’s a good first pull, I think it’s like the history of your friendship.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Willow said, looking between Gus and Amity. Amity smiled, linking their arms together.

The next card was The Devil.

“Oh, okay,” Vee frowned. “This is one of the important ones. It doesn’t have to be terrible, it’s like an anchor or a tether, the things that make us…vulnerable. But, uh, it’s also stuff like obsession, miscommunication, detachment. I wouldn’t say it's dangerous, just easy to spiral out of control. Slippery slopes, stuff like that. Maybe.”

“Sounds familiar,” Gus said, looking over to Hunter’s sleeping figure.

 The last card was the Three of Pentacles.

“Okay…okay, yeah,” Vee nodded to herself. “This one’s also about what keeps us on this plane. Unity, success, collaboration. Projection towards the future. So, if I got this right, everything will be alright, after some trials and tribulation.”

“So, this is the past, present, and future?” Amity asked, pointing at the respective cards.

“More or less.”

“Okay, so the Human Realm is our current trial, right? That’s our present?” Gus asked, somewhat hopeful. If this was the worst of it, it wouldn’t be that bad. And things would be okay soon enough, the next phase would be success.

“Maybe,” Vee shrugged. “It could also be further ahead. These are kinda like impressions. The Six of Cups could be closer than you might think and the Three of Pentacles, further. I couldn’t be sure.”

“So, we have looming trials?”

“Well, that’s ominous,” Amity said.

“Don’t love that,” Gus said, peering over the Devil card. It looked like one of the portraits of principals past at Hexside. The guy before Bump.

“Sounds like our luck,” Hunter grumbled from the couch, startling Vee and Amity who had their backs to him.

“But with a successful outcome,” Vee said, trying to sound optimistic.

“It’s even kinda sweet,” Willow said, picking up the Six of Cups.

“How far in the future was this again?” Gus asked.

Vee just shrugged.

“Well, it’s not like human witchcraft is a thing, right? You said there’s no magic in these cards,” Amity said, negotiating with herself how seriously to take the reading.

“It’s not the kind of magic I can eat, but the Human Realm can be spooky sometimes. I couldn’t tell you for sure.” 

“Don’t love that,” Gus said again.

“¡Mira pa'llá!” Camila said, rather astonished. She'd been digging through the basement, looking for a vacuum nozzle, when she found a box labeled “apa uni.”

“Gus! Here, take this upstairs,” she said, handing him the box. “I think I saw the nozzle bag, un segundito.”

“Whatcha got there?” Luz peered over his shoulder, making him and the box jump.

“Open it!” Camila called from downstairs.

They set the box on the living room floor. Luz sat cross-legged, popping open the flaps.

“Holy smokes,” Luz said, holding up a small rectangular box. Gus got closer, inspecting the image on the side. It was something with a close likeness to demons from the Toes, the words Monster of the Dark Lake across the picture.

“What is it?” Gus asked. It looked like a huge cassette, with a solid color casing. He’d never seen one in such great condition, undamaged by the Boiling Sea. He’d never been clear on its function, as none of the teen magazines he had scavenged ever seemed to mention them.

“It’s a VHS,” Luz said, digging through the box and stacking similar cases to the side. “It’s like an old DVD.”

The cases had titles like Modern Prometheus and The Man Wolf. 

“They’re my old monster movies,” Camila said, setting the nozzles on the couch and sitting down next to Luz. “Your dad hated them. ‘The effects are so cheap, Cami.’” Camila smiled fondly.

“Do we have a VHS player?”

“I think I saw it on the top shelf down there,” Camila mused, “but there’s no guarantee it’s working.”

“We gotta set it up.”

“You don’t have homework?”

“I’m all caught up, just some math exercises.”

“Finish Math, then we’ll see about the VHS player.”

“Ay, ma.”

“‘Ay, ma’ nada. Homework first.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Gus lived vicariously through Luz in these moments, he suspected Willow and Amity did too. He’d give anything to hear his dad tell him to fold his laundry or to not leave his shoes in the living room.

It was hard not to miss him.

As Luz got up to presumably finish her school work, Camila got Gus’s attention with a nudge. 

“Why don’t you fetch the VHS player for me? It looks like a stereo, but with a slot this size in the middle,” she said, holding up one of the plastic cases.

“Sure thing, Camila,” Gus said with the best smile he could manage.

He spotted the machine Camila was talking about easily enough, but he wasn’t good enough at juggling to spell it down unscathed. He peeked outside, finding Willow with her sun hat and gloves, working on Camila’s garden. It was really Willow’s, but she’d never call it that.

“Hey, Gus,” she smiled, wiping her brow with the back of her hand, smearing a streak of dirt across her forehead.

“Hey, Willow. Could you help me with something inside?”

“Sure thing,” she said, dusting herself off.

Willow spelled the random objects that buried the VHS player and Gus was able to spell it down without incident. He really wanted to avoid further damage to the old thing. 

“Oh, Titan, wait, help.” Gus hadn’t expected its actual weight, having grabbed it by the edge of one side and his hands dipping to the ground.

“Oh! Here,” Willow quickly scrambled for the other side, narrowly saving it. “That was close. What was this thing again?”

“A VHS player,” Gus said, leading them to the living room. “It shows what’s on those cases, like disc movies. This is a lot older apparently.”

“I think I saw one of these at the Owl House,” Amity said, walking over with her bowl of breakfast in hand. “Eda said she’d seen it in theaters over thirty years ago.”

“I don’t think my dads had met yet by then,” Willow mused.

“Yikes,” Gus said. “Eda’s ancient.”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that to her face,” Willow challenged playfully.

Gus laughed. “No, I wouldn’t. I like being an unmauled child.”

“So, we’re watching thirty year old movies?” Amity asked, peering at the cases.

“I think these are older,” Willow said, inspecting the back of one.

“Only if Luz finishes her school work,” Gus informed Amity.

“I see,” Amity smiled knowingly. “So, does the player work? It’s old, right?”

“Camila said we’d have to check. She didn’t seem too sure.”

“I’m sure I could get it working, if anything,” Amity said. “Dad messed around with a lot of engineering stuff for his Abominations. It can’t be too different from that.”

“Oh, wow, that looks like a dinosaur,” Vee said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Where are the cables?”

“What cables?”

“Y’know, the ones it needs to run electricity through it and for the image to appear on the TV.”

“It was just this.”

“Mom must’ve put it away separately, I’ll ask,” Vee said, looking around the house. The cleaning machine roared from upstairs, giving away Camila’s location. “Be right back.”

“Where’s Hunter?” Willow asked, looking around.

“Bathroom. Something about shaving his head,” Gus said.

“What?!”

“Scout haircut, apparently,” Gus shrugged.

“Someone should stop him,” Amity said, visibly resisting the urge to laugh.

“He’s probably done already,” Gus said, feeling only a little guilty over how hilarious he found Willow’s horror-stricken face.

“Hunter!” Willow rose to her feet and jogged to the bathroom. “Drop the scissors!”

Willow came back with a clean forehead and a red face. “He said he’d be right out.”

It turned out Hunter hadn’t shaved his head, it was shorter on the top than it used to be, but no bald head. They dragged him into their quest for the VHS cables, turning the rest of their late morning into what was feeling like a wild goose chase.

Camila said it should’ve been near the VHS player itself, but no such luck. Their mark was a plastic bag labeled “cables” with magic marker. There was nothing magic about it, but Gus loved the name. While fruitless on the bag front, Gus found it to be a wonderfully bountiful search, with treasures of all kinds. He’d unconsciously made a “keep” pile, much like the ones he did when he sorted through the artifacts that washed up in the Isles.

“Guys?” Luz called from upstairs. “Where is everyone?”

“Down here!” Amity called back.

“Woah, okay,” Luz ducked down to survey her friends, strewn across the cluttered basement. “What are you all doing down here?”

“Looking for the VHS cables. Ma said they were down here.”

“What, the bag that says cables?”

“Yeah.”

Luz picked up something by her foot. “Is it this?” She opened it and sneezed, a layer of dust scattering and hanging in the air. Luz wiped her nose, peeking inside the bag. “I think it’s this. It has the red-yellow-white cables.”

They had a new problem: the cables were too outdated. 

Luz and Vee were looking online to see if they could find the adapter they needed.

“Y’know, it would suck if after all this, the VHS player just didn’t work at all,” Vee said as she scrolled through the laptop.

“Don’t speak that into existence,” Luz waved her off. “How about tech places in Gravesfield?”

“Here’s the number,” Vee said.

“Not it!” Luz brought her index to the tip of her nose. Ever since they’d been back in the Human Realm, Luz had exhibited new behaviors, like being back home made her remember human customs she’d neglected in the Demon Realm. Vee narrowed her eyes at Luz.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll call.”

By the time Vee had finished the call, Hunter’d gone to pick up the adapter, and everything was connected, the sun had already set. The player turned on, seemingly functional.

“Imagine the tapes are damaged,” Luz said as she slipped the case into the machine.

“If they don’t work, it’s your fault for manifesting it,” Vee said, taking her place on the couch. 

“I’ll get Camila,” Hunter said as the tape rewound.

“This has to be some sort of miracle,” Luz said in awe, sitting next to Amity. The screen displayed the word play on a blue screen and the movie began to play. “MA! HUNTER! Hurry!”

The movie itself was fine, but Gus was intrigued with the illusions used. Camila said it was make-up and prosthetics for the monsters and light effects for the fantastical scenery. Gus was delighted to hear humans also used light to create their special effects, though it looked very different from what he could do. 

But he was settling his sights on the next hill to overcome: after he felt he’d mastered his sleights, he was going to look into monster make-up, that being closer to the creativity he was used to with his own illusions.

“Psst, Gus,” Amity whispered as the credits rolled. He looked over to find a small illusion in her hand. A slightly crude recreation of the creature from the film. It couldn’t move and the saturation was a little overdone, but it was an illusion. “I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Amity, that’s awesome! Look at this little guy, you even got the gills!”

Luz looked over, eyes widening at the figure in Amity’s hand. “You made that?”

“It’s just practice,” Amity shrugged, blushing.

“Look at you, multitracking!” Luz threw her arms around her. “I’m so proud of you!”

Amity smiled fondly. “Thanks,” she said, but she was looking at Gus.

Kiyoomi realized that there were other voices aside from the twins and their mother, but they were out of sight.

He tried to distract himself from what felt like walking his own funeral procession. His eyes caught on the walls and the frames that filled them.

Ribbons and MSBY articles on best plays and a few select scandals starring the one Miya Atsumu. Kiyoomi thought it strange to frame those, but it seemed oddly fitting. The other frames were mostly of the twins growing up.

He could tell which one was Atsumu by his eyes and the dimple that showed up in his side smirk, which he apparently had since birth by the looks of it. Rambunctious and messy and warm, that's what those photos told Kiyoomi.

That summer had been sticky, the watermelons sweet and refreshing. That middle school tournament had been the one, the one that hooked Tsumu on volleyball. That festival had been boring for the kids, but Miya-san held her boys' shoulders like there was nothing possibly better to do, like she'd been looking forward to that one day off with her sons.

The walls told Kiyoomi of a family, a proper family. Messy and loving. It's beginning and progression and the expectation of continuation.

And then he was in the kitchen, the Miya-san before him noticeably older than the one on the walls, but still the loving mother with the kind smile and warm eyes.

Atsumu was leaning on the counter with a lazy smile, an it's-so-damn-good-to-be-home smile, turned toward her, his focus entirely on her and the questions she asked.

"What's Samu on about? Sayin' you brought me somethin'."

"I dunno, Kaa-san. Samu says alotta shit."

"Deliverin' one MSBY outside hitter," Osamu piped in. "Do I hafta do the rest for ya, Tsumu?"

"No, scrub. That'll be all."

Atsumu's eyes fell on Kiyoomi, who was standing oh-so awkwardly in the kitchen door of that well-worn, well-lived kitchen, and his smile widened, that stupid dimple making its appearance. They had practiced and scripted and memorized how they were going to do this.

Kaa-san, this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. You've met him at the last Christmas gala. We've been dating for sometime and I wanted to formally introduce him to you.

Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miya-san. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. Your son—

"Kaa-san, this is the love of my life. I believe you’ve met already."

Kiyoomi was drawing blanks.

"T-that's not w—" Kiyoomi fumbled. Readjusted. Refocused. Bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miya-san. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. Your son is the idiot I'm in love with."

Miya-san looked between them for a second, the smile on her face spreading.

"I like 'im, Tsumu," she said brightly. "Please treat my idiot son kindly, he's gen'le like that."

"Kaa-san!"

Miya-san laughed. "Come on in, Sakusa-kun. You look stiff as a board standin' there."

Kiyoomi walked in, one leg out in front of the other. Atsumu chuckled, holding out his arms for Kiyoomi to walk into.

"There, Omi-Omi. The bandage's been ripped. Breathe," Atsumu said half-mockingly, running a soothing hand down his back.

Kiyoomi simply slumped into him, drained beyond belief. No screaming, no shouting, no think of the family. Just a smile and joke.

"You stayin' the weekend, Sakusa-kun?"

Kiyoomi stood up and turned toward Miya-san in the cage of Atsumu's arms. It felt so natural, like they had been in that kitchen before many times over, asking the same question, giving the same answer. "Yes, ma'am. If that's alright."

"'Course it's alright! Fair warnin', though, we're a rowdy bunch. You seem like the quiet type."

"He ain't so quiet when—"

Kiyoomi dug his heel sharply into Tsumu's foot.

"I'm sure that's no problem at all, Miya-san."

"So proper," Miya-san giggled, patting his cheek. It took all his self control not to make a face or pull away. "Cute."

"Kaa-san, Omi's too polite to say it or he really wants to suck up to ya, but either way, don’t touch his face. He's got a germ thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, yanking her hand further back.

"Can I go wash up, please?"

"Bathroom's the second door to the right," Atsumu said, pushing him toward the entrance.

Kiyoomi nearly had a heart attack as he heard Miya-san's fading voice ask Atsumu, "A germ thing? How'd you manage to even sleep with 'im?" Which was quickly followed by Atsumu's cackle.

It turned out that the other voices in the house were Sendai Frogs' Suna Rintarou and Red Falcons' Ojiro Aran. Kiyoomi knew that they had known the twins back in high-school, at least. They were part of Inarizaki's team back then.

"Samu's cooking ain't shit next to this," Suna said, immediately grabbing at an onigiri ball before Miya-san had finished setting the plate down.

"Don't fill up on balls alone, Rin," Miya-san scolded. "Dinner'll be done in a bit. Come and help, Samu."

"Yeah, Rin," Atsumu said, winding up for a joke, making sure his mother was out of earshot. Suna was already rolling his eyes. "If you're gonna fill up on balls, best it be Samu's not Ka—."

Osamu hit his brother upside the head as he passed on the way to the kitchen.

Atsumu just chuckled. "Since when are you fussy about fuckin' Rin?"

"I hope Baachan gets here just as you're saying some shit like that," Osamu said.

Ojiro chuckled, shaking his head at the scene, like it was something he was intimately familiar with.

He caught Kiyoomi staring at him and smirked. Kiyoomi felt more like a witness than a part of the group, but he'd never minded that. It seemed Ojiro wanted to remedy that.

"How'd Sakusa Kiyoomi end up with our Tsumu anyhow?"

"Hard to say," Kiyoomi shrugged. Atsumu perked up at the sound of his name.

"'Cause I'm a charmer, Aran. Easy as that."

Ojiro ignored him. "He's a slob—"

Yet surprisingly fastidious.

"—short fused—"

Passionate. Single focused.

"—obnoxious—"

No objections.

"—and far too cocky for his own good."

Charming.

"Do you even like me, Aran?" Atsumu whined, kicking the leg of Ojiro's chair.

Ojiro shushed him and regarded Kiyoomi, waiting for some form of explanation.

Kiyoomi thought about it for a moment. "He grows on you," he said finally.

Ojiro cracked a smile. "I think he's a keeper, Tsumu."

Dinner was unsurprisingly delicious. Osamu had clearly picked up his skills from his mother and the two of them working together did wonders.

Kiyoomi watched Atsumu throughout the meal, his uproarious laugh, his barely there table manners, how he made crude jokes just to get a reaction out of Ojiro, his easy banter with every member of the table. It was still his Atsumu, but something about him seemed unhampered, like being home dislodged something in him. Kiyoomi sat quietly beside him, endeared by the way Atsumu kept playing with his foot under the table.

"So," Miya-san said somewhat ceremoniously, taking over the conversations at the table. "Because this is Sakusa-kun's first dinner with us, it's time for embarrassin' stories. He must be briefed on all he's missed out."

Atsumu groaned, putting a hand over his face, but he still wore a smile.

"Being his teammate for a few years, I already know plenty, Miya-san."

"Thank you, Omi," Atsumu said, relieved.

"But I could stand to hear a few more."

The men around the table chuckled, gearing up for their tales of Atsumu's misfortunes. Atsumu held a hand to his chest, feigning offense.

"So this is what betrayal feels like."

The conversation around the table grew louder as the night went on. Laughter and fists pounding the table rattled out of the dining room, competing with the cicadas outside.

"Sakusa-kun, didja know the one with the bar an' the backflip already? It blew up on Twitter," Osamu said eagerly, leaning forward on the table. His cheeks were a splotchy red, his eyes almost as bright as Atsumu's. Kiyoomi couldn't have fought off the smile on his face if he'd wanted to.

"Yeah, I know that one. I took the video."

"Fuck, yeah," Suna said loudly, in drunken approval.

"Wait, are you serious?" Atsumu cut in.

"Atsumu, you had insisted that someone had to record you," Kiyoomi said, recalling how Atsumu had jostled his shoulder until he pulled out his phone. "You said, 'Omi, watch this, look.' And then, 'No wait, record it. Come on. Don't be a bitch'."

"Sounds like 'im," Osamu said.

"Then you stood on the bar—"

"I know—"

"You tried to do the back flip—"

"Yes, Omi—"

"—kicked the bartender in the jaw—"

"Omi—"

"—fell flat on your stomach, and looked up and asked, 'Did ya get it?'"

The table roared with laughter. Atsumu playfully shoved Kiyoomi.

"I mostly remember havin' a bruised everything the next day."

"The Jackals can no longer set foot in the establishment or until your contract is over."

"Sounds right," Suna chuckled. "We once got kicked out of an arcade 'cause of these two. I got it on video, too."

"Oi, it's Tsumu stories not twin stories," Osamu nudged Suna.

"Actually, I've got most of their fights on my phone," Suna lit up, like he'd just remembered.

"Do ya?" Miya-san asked, intrigued.

The twins went rigid. "NO."

"He's kiddin', Kaa-san."

"He's drunk."

Kiyoomi chuckled. He'd spent hours agonizing over how this weekend would go, how he had to show Miya-san that he was a good fit for Atsumu, put his best foot forward. He never realized that Atsumu had been serious when he told him to not worry.

The Miyas were drastically different from the Sakusas. They were teasing and loud, lively, present. It was an unspoken warmth Kiyoomi had never witnessed before. It was weirdly welcoming.

"Omi."

"Hm."

"Omiii."

"Shh." Omi's hand flew back at Atsumu, smacking him in the face, an undignified sound escaping his throat. "Quiet."

"Oi," Atsumu started to shake him.

"What. What," Omi turned on his back, squinting up at Atsumu.

"Mornin', hot stuff," Atsumu grinned.

"I'm going to strangle you."

"Save the foreplay for later, Omi. My gran gets here today, so get the fuck up."

That seemed to do the trick, because Omi's eyes widened before he was nearly sprinting out of bed.

"What time is it?" he asked, frantic.

"Ya still got time," Atsumu waved a hand dismissively.

"You are fully dressed, which inspires zero confidence," Omi said, turning to scramble through their bags.

"Fair," Atsumu muttered to himself.

He watched Omi stumble to the shower with his clothes precariously gripped in his hand, looking absolutely frazzled and adorable. Atsumu leaned back in bed with a satisfied sigh. It was so fucking good to be home. It was even better now that he got to bring Omi with him.

He hadn't been worried about his mother meeting Omi. At the gala she had told him that out of all his teammates, Omi was a perfect gentleman. Meian didn't count (Meian had a wife, Meian did his own taxes). She'd been impressed more by Omi's age than by his manners.

"He's your peer?," she'd asked him. "Not your senior?"

"Nah, Kaa-san, ya can't date him."

She'd giggled and smacked his arm. "Tsumu! That's not what I meant."

His gran, however, made him worry. To the point where he'd woken up early, helped Samu with breakfast, retouched the yard, and taken a shower, all the while feeling an itch in the palm of his hands that didn't let him sit still.

But there was no need to worry Omi with all of that until it was absolutely necessary. And Gran would be arriving in under an hour, so Atsumu thought it was necessary.

It wasn't that his gran was homophobic or anything. Thankfully. She adored Suna. The man was her third grandson, maybe even her favorite grandson. She was, though, scrutinizing.

And as much as Omi had been raised under a magnifying glass, he was unsettled by his gran's high standards for her grandsons.

It's not like it would matter, really. Omi was it for Atsumu, as prickly as the bastard was. It was as simple as that. Gran not approving would only mean annoying family reunions where Omi would get the perpetual stinky eye from the old woman. Nothing to worry about.

Atsumu's hands itched.

"Osamu, step up here," Gran pushed a stool beside her, handing the boy a peeler. "Atsumu, fetch me a bowl."

Whenever Gran looked after them, they always worked on projects together. Gran said they were surprises for their mom for when she got back from work. They would clean their rooms or tidy up the genkan or bake like they were doing now.

Atsumu dutifully handed her the bowl and cleared out the counter so she could work more comfortably.

"You boys are special, y'know?" Gran started as she mixed the dry ingredients together. "You're the reason yer mom smiles, the reason she tries, you’re her happiness."

Gran nodded firmly, like these were reasonable statements and not like she'd told them that they're the reason their world spins. Because they both knew, without ever having to say it, that their mom was their world. It was a natural fact.

"That's that," Gran said. And that was that. The rest went unsaid, but known. Decidedly, if she could help it, Gran would move a mountain and hang the stars for Atsumu and Osamu, if it meant their happiness. They were her greatest treasure, in a way that a daughter could never quite be. Their mom was happy through them and Gran would propel that happiness forward, as much as she could, however she could. And she did.

After his shower, Omi seemed far more composed. His eyes were still flitting around, and his hands were fidgeting, but he seemed to be reigning it in. Atsumu knew he could do this.

His palms were itchy.

"Tell 'im it won't be that bad, Samu."

Osamu was smirking like a dipshit, watching Omi pace.

"Why should I? Ya made Rin so nervous, he almost sat up straight," Samu said, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, but Rin's my friend, too. I was just fuckin' with 'im."

Samu shook his head, about to be the most stubborn bastard alive—

"You'll be fine, Sakusa-kun," he said easily. "'S long as Baachan thinks this prick is yer reason for breathin'."

Omi stopped pacing, arms slacking at his sides. "I'm fucked."

"Omi!"

Samu could only laugh. Bastard.

Lunch was ready when they heard Gran arrive. Omi was in high stress, becoming increasingly fussy. He had already pulled on a disposable mask and was carrying his hand sanitizer in his pocket. At the sound of the door opening, Atsumu watched Omi reflexively squeeze more sanitizer into his palm.

Omi had insisted that they'd have something to say with his mother, some preamble to, "Hey, this is my boyfriend." Atsumu had gone along with it to soothe his nerves, but he'd known he'd throw their script out the window immediately. With his gran there was no preparation.

"Just be yourself. Trust me."

Omi had straightened in his chair then, nodding.

"I can do that."

He didn't look so confident now. Their mom was trying to distract Omi in the kitchen, helping her set up for lunch. Atsumu was clearing the dining table as they heard Gran's shuffling in the genkan.

Gran was led in by Rin, holding onto his arm for the simple joy she got out of it. Atsumu could sense the steel bar lodged in Omi's spine from across the room.

"Baachan! How was the ride over?" Samu wandered over, scooping her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly.

"It was fine. Rintarou still remembers how to drive," she chuckled.

"I didn't even crash that time, Baachan," Rin said in his defense.

"Coulda fooled me. Now, where's my grandson?" Gran asked, pulling away from Samu.

Atsumu stepped in, swinging her around once. "Baachan!"

She giggled in his ear, patting his shoulder. "Put me down before ya kill me."

"Ya ain't delicate," Atsumu said, setting her down. He turned to find his mom leaning against the kitchen door watching Omi look somehow more of an awkward fuck in the hallway.

This time, Atsumu stuck to the script. Springing surprises on Gran hardly ever went well. "Baachan, this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. We've been datin' for a while and I wanted him to meet ya."

Omi bowed deeply. Atsumu resisted the urge to bonk him in the head.

"Why? Are ya planning on marrying him?" Gran asked, her eyes following Omi as he stood straight again.

"Baachan."

"Hush, I'm messing with ya."

"It's an honor to meet you, Aoki-san," Omi said firmly. The side of his mouth was probably twitching. Omi had learned to fidget comfortably in front of people without them ever noticing.

"Could ya," Gran mimicked a pinching and pulling down motion. "I feel like I know ya."

Omi pulled down his mask, still keeping his distance. His face was controlled and calm.

Gran's eyes widened. "Tsumu, have ya lost yer mind!" She smacked him upside the head. He heard Samu snickering from the kitchen. "He's yer teammate!"

"And roommate!" Samu supplied from the other room.

His gran proceeded to berate him, going on about how he was risking his career and his homelife and what the hell were you thinking and do you realize how reckless that is, but gran could talk his ear off all she wanted. He had already thought of that, had already weighed his options, had already calculated the magnitude of how this could fuck him up. He'd tortured himself before settling in his feelings, he'd done the work.

And he knew it was the right choice. He knew it as his fingers knew how to flex for a set and he knew it when he turned to see Omi's shoulders relax and a soft smile reach his eyes.

"And you, young man, must be just as insane," Gran turned her reprimands on Omi.

Omi startled slightly at being addressed by her.

"I guess I am," he said. His smile didn't fade.

Gran grinned in turn. "Good."

And that was that.

* * *

"Omi-Omi," Atsumu poked at his thigh with his foot. Kiyoomi was sweeping their common area and Atsumu always planted himself on the small couch "for the view."

"What."

"I was thinking of visiting my ma for a weekend. Y'know, before the season starts up again."

"Sounds nice. Lift your feet up."

Atsumu pulled his legs into the couch, crossing them under him. Kiyoomi leaned over, crouching to get under the couch.

"I was wonderin' if you'd like to come. Like, home with me."

Kiyoomi stopped sweeping to look at Atsumu.

"You sure?" The last time Kiyoomi had his parents over for dinner, they had almost made Atsumu bust a valve in his tolerance gauge with their prodding and condescension. The whole meet-the-parents thing wasn't their strong suit.

Tsumu leaned up to catch his lips, dragging him down to sit on the couch. He pulled away with a smile.

"Yes, I'm fucking sure, Omi."

He gave Tsumu a skeptical look.

"Kaa-san already met ya, wanted to scoop ya up all for herself, and Samu'll be there. Ya might have to worry about Baachan, but it'll be nothing like dinner."

"Right," his heart started to pick up. He could feel the disaster incoming. Tsumu kissed him again, chuckling into it.

"Don't start," he said against his lips. "You'll get fussy."

Kiyoomi scrunched his nose, pulling away, hands pushing at Tsumu's thighs.

"I don't get fussy," Kiyoomi said stubbornly, leaning into Atsumu's hand as he played with his curls.

"Sure ya do. It's cute, but it's shit for yer nerves." He tugged lightly at his hair. "They'll love you, ya bully me and keep me in line. They'll be swooning."

Kiyoomi couldn't help his snort. Atsumu lit up at the sound. "Sure, alright. I'd love to meet them."

Gus woke up in his bed. His bed.

Home.

Everything was in order. His scroll on his nightstand, his treasures were in their place on his dresser, Emmiline was in her staff form leaning against his bedframe, the sun was shining. He was home.

Gus rushed to his window, leaning on the ledge—that his hands went through. He fell forward, losing his balance, but caught himself.

It was an illusion.

He heard a distant scream, like it was coming from above.

“Luz! ¡Luz, mija! What is all this!?”

It was Mrs. Noceda.

Gus had to calm down, he didn’t want to scare the human to death. Luz would never forgive him.

Hunter stood beside him, Gus hadn’t heard his steps coming. He was looking out the illusion’s window, his expression unreadable.

Hunter sighed. “Looks pretty ding-dang convincing.” He nudged Gus with his elbow, a small smile on his lips.

“Thanks,” Gus said, his tone somehow defeated. “I need to dispel it.”

“Could you, um, leave it a few more minutes?”

“Yeah…okay. Just a few more.”

“Thanks.”

Life in the Human Realm, he began to realize, was really fast paced. The first days were general chaos in the Noceda house, too many people suddenly together in a small space. Then, as they learned to live around each other, the days just started speeding by.

Hunter seemed more reserved than usual, Amity was a ball of nerves, and Willow…Willow seemed her usual self. Luz acted different under her mother’s watch, acted like she wasn’t eager to get back home—to the Demon Realm. Every time Mrs. Noceda left for work, Luz would hurry to her room and pull out all her research from under her bed. Sightings of Eda in Gravesfield, newspaper clippings, old books from the library, anything that had any connection to magic. Gus didn’t think Luz was getting any sleep either.

It was driving everyone a little crazy, being cooped up in the same rooms for days on end.

“Okay!” Willow announced one day, barging into Luz’s room, scaring her half to death. “We’re getting out of here today.”

“I think that’s what we’ve been trying to do all this time,” Gus said from Luz’s bed. He’d been reading a report on how Eda had gotten banned from a French restaurant.

“No, I mean out of the house,” Willow said, stepping over Luz to sit on her bed.

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Get some fresh air?” Willow suggested. “We’re in the Human Realm, Gus. Live a little.”

The Human Realm. She was right! This was supposed to be exciting. Gus had always wanted to come here. But it didn’t feel right.

It felt like they were suffocating without the guarantee of magic. It was scary. It was like breathing without air. He had no idea how they were still doing it, but each breath felt like their last.

He never thought he’d be scared of the Human Realm, of getting stuck there. He thought of how Luz had decided to stay in the Demon Realm. She never seemed scared, but she always had the option to go back home. But that was before the portal had been destroyed. She was frantic to find a way over the moment her safety net had been removed.

It was a matter of security. And Gus got it. He really wanted to feel that security right now.

“Hey,” Willow nudged him out of his thoughts. “We could try to find some giraffes.”

Gus immediately lit up at that. “Titan, you’re right! Luz! Where can we find them?”

Luz rubbed at her eye, leaning her head back against the side of her bed. “The zoo, probably.”

“Can we go? Please?”

Luz checked the time on her phone. “They’re closing soon. We could go with Mami tomorrow. I’ll ask tonight.”

It was a little disappointing, but it was something. Gus thought that this was probably the first time he’d smiled since they got stranded in the Human Realm.