Early morning, March 14th..

"I think that's the last of it," I say, turning into the guest room from the hall. I've spent the last hour stacking junk from the guest room and moving it downstairs. My muscles burn with exertion. I'm panting, my brow is sweaty beneath the bandana I've used to tie back my hair. I'm streaked with dust and grime and I sneezed six times on my way up here.

And when I see my sister, she's sitting ten inches from her TV screen, a donut clutched in her hands and held to her mouth like she's a squirrel. Her eyes are wide, unblinking and rapt on the couple as they lean in toward each other's mouths, a peppy orchestral theme serenading their ensuing kiss in the background.

Until I lean down and turn the set off.

She squawks like she had a tail and I just stepped on it. "WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR, DID YOU SEE WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?!"

"Sher, you're supposed to be helping me."

"I'm taking a break!! Turn the TV back on, I'm missing stuff!" She flings her hand out toward the TV, but I catch it.

"You haven't even done anything yet! Look, I knew what I was getting into when I said I wanted to hang out with you," I begin, but the puppy dog expression on her face makes me start to smile. This is what I wanted, for her to make me smile without her knowing it. It's so easy for it to happen. And above all else--I miss her. "But this is a little extreme. This place needs to at least get cleaned out. It's filthy as hell."

"Yeah, but that's not my problem. Dad's always the one throwing stuff in here." She flaps her hand out of mine and stands with her donut. She, like me, has tied her hair down with a yellow bandana. But, unlike me, she's still in her pajamas; little strawberries on pastel purple fabric. There are twin circles of dirt on her knees and a fat smudge across her stomach. She gets up with the donut in her mouth and dusts herself off. Taking a big bite, she chews thoughtfully, looking up at me. "Okay, okay, no more foolin' around. What do you want me to do?"

"Ah--I guess start with the window. Then the floor. I brought all the kitchen cleaning supplies up. Make sure there aren't any cobwebs in the closet either 'cause I think I'm finally winning the war against those damn spiders."

She giggles, finishing off her donut. I really don't know where she puts them. The only thing that's round about her is her face, and that works for her. It goes well with her smile and how full her hair is. And I don't look any lower than that. Still, for how many she puts away, I'd expect her to be--

"What are you staring at?"

I blink. I had no idea I'd been staring. I clear my throat, shaking my head. "Nothing, sorry."

"Do I have something on my face?" She pats her cheeks, looking down, and gasps. "Noooooo, I have something on my jammies!! Awww, oh god, the strawberries! They're ruined now!"

"Sher, come on, we'll wash them later. That's why I told you to put on dirty clothes anyway."

"But I didn't think I'd really get dirty!!!"

"What do you think cleaning means?!"

"I don't know, throwing soap on something and letting it do all the work!!"

"Agh, god, you're impossible. Just--just turn the damn TV back on."

"If you say so."

I turn on my heel, grabbing the dustrag and glass cleaner from the caddy I'd brought up and stalk across the room. I can feel Sher staring at my back.

It doesn't take long for the sappy music to begin. The characters on the TV are speaking in a language I can't understand, something that comes from the back of the mouth, with lots of k's and ng's and so's. The guy sounds angry, but so does the girl. I spray the cleanser on the window and wipe it off.

"Hey, Toby?"

"Yeah?" I fold over the rag so I'm wiping with a clean corner.

"Are you okay?"

I blink, looking at her reflection in the window. Instead of watching the TV, she's watching me. That means she's more than just serious.

"Of course I am, Sher. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, come on, Toby!!" she whines. "I'm not six years old anymore. I can handle it when you tell me what's bothering you. You used to talk to me all the time!"

I can tell that my face says 'What the hell?' better than I ever could. "Wh--no I didn't."

"Yes, but you didn't go to anyone else!"

I blink at her, and she blinks at me. The synthesized music beginning to ramp up from the TV at her feet is the only thing that breaks the awkward silence.

"What?"

She folds her arms over her chest, looking suddenly cold and averts her eyes. I watch the blush climb from her jaw to her hairline.

"You don't think I know?" she asks almost too quietly for me to hear. I leave the cleaner and the rag on the windowsill and move toward her. She shrinks away from me, wincing, and an unfamiliar pain lances through me like lightning.

"Think you know what?"

"About her. And you."

I stare at her, meeting her eyes. They brim with tears, but her scowl is set. She will not cry in front of me. In fact, I can't remember the last time she had.

I don't know why she wants to cry in the first place. What could she possibly know? I haven't told her anything.

Then it hits me.

Ice water fills my body. I feel goosebumps erupt along my spine, across the back of my neck. Sweat dampens my palms, turning my fingers to ice.

I shouldn't be so surprised. How long had it been just the three of us? Emerill, Sheridan and I. She's the only other person besides her father that could look at me for only half a second and recognize there was something wrong beneath the surface.

"I know how you feel, Toby."

I stumble toward her, a phantom heart thundering with fear in my throat, in my ears, in my hands when I reach toward her. "What are you talking about, Sheridan?" My voice is thin, high and thready like smoke. "I don't understand."

But I do. And for some reason, Sheridan knowing how I feel about Mayu terrifies me more than death.

Her face scrunches up in disgust. She brings her hands up, shoving at my shoulders with surprising strength from arms that are white and smooth, without any muscle definition. I drop my grip and let her step back.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I can't think straight. I run my hands through my hair, but only catch my bandana and fling it to the floor.

"How can you say that?! You don't understand, like you think I'm stupid!! I have eyes, Toby, and I have a brain. You feel like you can't come to me anymore because you have to protect me from something! And you don't talk to me because of that stupid tendency, but I know you keep it all inside! And--" She wipes her face, leaving a dark smudge across her cheek. "And I know there's something going on between you and Mayu. Something fantastic, something different. Maybe even dangerous!

"I mean--why else would you be staying out so late together? Or when you come home with bruises, or don't come home at all? Or, when you do you're acting like there's something chasing you or looking over your shoulder! A-and, you've never been interested in fighting before, but all of a sudden you're letting her teach you things!"

I can't take my eyes off of her. My mind still can't wrap around the fact that she doesn't know. That the only thing that bothers her, that worries her, that makes her look at me like this is her desire to be let into our world.

Did I really make such a huge mistake trying to keep her out of it? She's already been killed and replaced by Rin's power once, Emerill too, and that was back when I knew next to nothing about what was going on.

Maybe--

"Toby, I know I won't be able to help you much, I'm not very strong, but--I'd like to think that I'm strong enough to hold you up if you need someone to lean on. O-or to talk to.

"I-I guess, I just miss you. I feel like I'm losing you somehow, like back when we were little. You're not going to run away again, are you?"

I sputter an incoherent sound and lumber toward her, drawing her soft, warm body against mine. She squeaks in surprise. My arms wind around her back, latching tight and I feel something inside me click in place.

"Sher, I'm sorry."

I knew I'd been drawing away from them. From her and Emerill both, from my home. The one place I knew for certain would always be there when I looked back over my shoulder. No matter where I went, or how long I was gone.

She sniffs against my shoulder. I feel something warm drip onto my shirt. But she doesn't sob. She barely even shakes. The only movement she makes is the half hearted slap to my shoulderblade.

"You should be. What exactly do you think I am? A plant in the corner?"

I laugh, burying my nose into her hair, my mouth finding her scalp for an affectionate kiss. Her fingernails briefly dig into my back.

"You'd be a cute plant. Something with huge flowers so your face can be surrounded by petals." I grin. "You hate bees though, I don't know how that'd work."

"Toby--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm changing the subject. Look--" I draw away from her, holding her at arms length. Her lower lip juts out at me and she wrinkles her nose as she sniffs. I lick the pad of my thumb and scour her cheek. She groans, rolling her eyes, but she doesn't draw away. "There is something going on. Something--big."

She looks back at me and I see her swallow. I have the faintest idea that she'd been waiting for me to say that she was wrong, deny her like I always do. But there's something wrong if I'm able to be honest with complete strangers over my own family.

"And I'll tell you. Alright? On one condition."

She squares her shoulders beneath my hands. And nods like a soldier awaiting orders.

"Help me set up this damn room before they get home?"