Ema: Uncracked & Reloaded

by merryfortune

[Shugo Chara Au] Bessho Ema has always been an unusual girl. She talks to herself, has strange coloured hair, and has pointed ears but most importantly, she's always watching.

Ema: Uncracked and Reloaded

|| Yusaku's Eggcellent Adventure

[AN: This is part of a larger scale Shugo Chara AU. I cannot disclose how many parts there will be in this series because I haven't worked out the bigger picture yet but if its title contains a Character name, followed by an egg pun, chances are it belongs to this series.]

Bessho Ema has always been an unusual girl. She talks to herself, has strange coloured hair, and has pointed ears but most importantly, she's always watching. However, describing her like that makes it seem that her peculiarities were noticed in that order. But no, that is not the case.

Ema transferred and changed schools a lot as a child and as an adolescent. However, he life always repeated the same pattern. This pattern most solidly began when she was in her fourth year of elementary school. The children would always notice what she did not notice about herself which was her pointed ears: the way they stuck out through her shiny stresses of oddly coloured hair. The two were generally noticed together by her fellow pack of nine year olds.

At first, they would be impressed. They would say magenta is such a pretty colour – like an anime character – and then they would like her ears; pointed like that of fairies but she had more in common with the fae folk than her peers would realise. Soon, once the novelty of her appearance wore – always within the same week as her transfer – they would become markers of how hideous she was. Or, more accurately, how astonishingly beautiful she was and how unfair it was that she was abnormal. So, beauty becomes tarnished and as would Ema's popularity in the class.

Another pattern that never broke though was that her childhood bullies, if you could call them that, always gifted her the same moniker to let her know she was not welcome around them. That she was not one of them: peer… or human. They would always call her the fairy girl. As if that was supposed to insult her. Truth be told, Ema relished all attention; even the bad. Besides, Ema didn't really latch onto those whole otherworldly thing her classmates would see on her. It was too… nice. She saw herself more a wraith: undead and walking; damaged from the instability in her home life.

This is to Ema's advantage though. She had no desire to make friends. She knew it would only break her heart as her family was always moving. Little attachment meant little risk. She could live like that.

Still, humans and fae alike are social creatures and that is when her peers would notice that Ema is always watching.

She watches with inhuman eyes: shining, glistening, unblinking. Eerie. She watches as though her eyes are a pair of lenses and her mind is her video feed. What's more is that not only does she watch but she records and remembers. She has a journal that she keeps: it's pretty cute looking. It's pink and girly; spiralling patterns on the front with grey highlights. It is truly a lot like her. It's too much like her.

Ema could take the whispers. She could take the exclusion. She revels in it after all but there was one thing she could not take as an eleven year old. Yet, funnily enough, this has become one of Ema's most fondest memories as if it had not happened, she would not be where she is now and Ema has no clue who she would be, what she would be doing or, or where she is had it not been for this particular incident from her childhood.

It was nearing the end of the school year. Ema was close to graduating; ascending to the status of a fifth grader. The cherry blossom trees that lined the streets had begun to bloom patchily; releasing their petals and their fragrances. Ema loved it. She particularly loved one tree that was on the school yard's side of the fence rather than on the outside. Many children loved that tree actually but because Ema, the creepy girl, had claimed it most the students had come to avoid it lest they become seen with those eerie eyes.

It was during their break when they were permitted to play outside. It had been such lovely and fair weather all day: a meek breeze, a warm sun, and not a nary cloud in the sky. It was beautiful.

Ema sat in the shade of her favourite tree. Her back against its wrinkly stump. Her skirt fanned out over her legs. She had her journal with her and was jotting down observations. Just the little things she noticed. Who was talking most today, who hadn't said a word. Whatever Ema could recall from what she found interesting which was quite a lot. She was the type of child who found many, many things interesting and there was usually an unvoiced question to accompany such wonder.

See, as a child, Ema had a dream. She wanted to grow up and be a spy. She wanted the sophisticated pants suits and the high roller life style. She wanted to be on the move and doing something good, and something bad, for whoever paid her the most. She wanted to save the world but to never be known for it because that's not how she rolls: she wanted to blend in. She wanted the knowledge to kill a man and to leave the place spotless; not a stray finger print. She wanted to be able to have the internet at her fingertips. She wanted to be a spy and she was trying to get some practice in now. She was sure that all the intelligence agencies in Japan would want her if she had some history in the field. That's how it works, right?

To a child, yes.

This dream of Ema's put the light of ambition in her eyes and her heart. It stirred up her very soul and set it aflame. There was nothing she wanted more than to be a spy. Just like in the movies. After all, that's where she got the idea.

Her father was a software engineer. He was always hocking himself to the highest bidder and then skipping out when his latest commissioner realised that they weren't getting their money's worth. Her mother was a clerk. Same kind of deal. She would hop from job to job as soon as she got bored of one company and its staff, she would move on. Both were greedy - just look at Ema, she had to get it from somewhere. However both were ordinary. Ema refused to be ordinary. She wanted to do something grand in her life.

The thought of being anything less disgusted Ema.

Though the current Ema would disgust her childhood self but Ema doesn't mind.

As an adult, Ema is pleased with how far her childhood dream came. It's true, she's deviated somewhat but she's still out there. She's throwing herself wildly towards the highest bidder, she knows how to kill a man, and has the internet to rend however she pleases. True, she's not a spy but she's something just as good. After all, every agency wants her for one reason or another and it's all because of an insidious opportunity she was granted as an eleven year old on one fateful spring day.

To her childhood bullies that innocuous pink journal was the root of all evil in their once peaceful school days. So, when it was left unguarded on accident, they naturally took it.

Ema had fallen asleep whilst her nose was in amongst her favourite plan. It was uncharacteristic of her but it had been such a nice day. The perfect conditions for falling asleep in the shade of a cherry blossom tree; the one that stretched over the fence near the back of the playground and was almost, not quite, out of bounds to the school children. Her eyes had drifted shut and she let her journal slip from her fingers. Someone - to this day Ema is still uncertain as to who - but someone noticed and they saw the book fall from her lap and it was too irresistible.

At long last it was time to punish the fae who played malign tricks on her poor peers.

Ema had woken up from her nap in a panic once she realised that her book had vanished from her lap. She thought she had shut her eyes for a few seconds; it had been far longer than that as it was a teacher who had come to collect her: a fuzzy faced adult who was far above the petty squabbles of the children in her care. Too jaded, too lazy.

Ema's heart didn't stop pounding as her mind raced with possibilities. Guilty smiles smeared across every one of her peers' faces. They were all complicit. They were all having fun. At long last, it was their eyes unflinchingly wearing her down with their judgement and their glassed-over peculiarities.

At that point in Ema's life there had never been a worse day. She was finally choking down the medicine she had dealt her peers. It was horrid. Bittersweet now but still, horrid.

By the end of the day, the journal was returned to Ema. But not without a little - a lot - of torment first.

A girl - snot-faced and bratty with curly hair, if Ema recalls correctly - had come forward with the journal. She fluttered her eyelashes before the teacher and got up on her tip-toes. She overcompensated her "cuteness" to the teacher's neutral displeasure but she was playing it up on purpose to tease Ema and to amuse their classmates.

'Ma'am.' she said in a nasally voice. 'I found this on the playground earlier and I don't know who's it is. Would you be willing to look at the handwriting?'

The teacher grimaced. 'I'm not that talented.'

'Oh, well, the name is written in English. Perhaps you could read it then?'

The girl handed over the journal and Ema got to her feet. It was futile. The teacher didn't even notice; not even when the girl started giggled as she watched Ema pointlessly grab the air in front of her. Embarrassment and horror spread across Ema's face as her stomach knotted. Even now, the emotions are quite vivid.

'Oh my!' the teacher gasped.

Her head snapped right up and a most righteous fury filled her dreary, brown eyes. Ema's blood ran cold.

'Bessho-chan!' she gasped. 'We are going to the principal's office… now!'

The principal wanted to get Ema expelled for the information she had meticulously collected. It was horrifying, what she had jotted down. It crossed too many boundaries. It was borderline privacy invasion. There had to be some kind of law against it - one that not even eleven year olds were exempt to; especially ones who were writing in full knowledge of espionage because that's just what she wanted to do as she grew up.

Fortunately, she was just an eleven year old and no one wanted to do heavy paperwork and get the police and her parents involved. Moreover, Ema apologised - lied - profusely. She swore up and down that she'd never do it again. That this had taught her a very valuable lesson in privacy.

That was half right.

It had taught Ema something. Just not what the teachers hoped. It taught her that the consequences would only swell if she was a proper spy and not just some creepy elementary school kid with an off-colour hobby. The only thing it taught Ema, in truth, was that if she wanted to be a spy then she would have to learn to conceal herself and her information better. That horrible afternoon inspired Ema. She spent the evening learning to make invisible ink and common ciphers that she found on a basic search.

But that inspiration didn't stave off what eleven year old Ema presumed was guilt over her actions.

Whatever it was, it was a terrible emotion. It chewed her up and spat her out. It raked her with doubt and failure. It made her replay those dragged out moments in the classroom, with the principal, over and over until the memory was too deviated from the original afternoon to have been true. It was just a skewed dream now. But what it did most was that it made her heart pulse.

No, that's not quite accurate. It made her feel as though something would bloom from her heart. Not quite inspiration but something more. Something better. Something indescribable and unique but it was just a silly hope to distract her from the guilt. That was the only plausible and rational explanation - the only one Ema would believe as she was a girl of science even though she was thought to be aligned with fantasy because of her pointed ears and peculiar eyes.

Unfortunately, now that this particular incident had transpired, it meant that she had to retire her favourite journal even though she loved it to bits. Her favourite texture was the cover and it was so stunningly pink. It was such a representation of who she felt she was but now?

It was too conspicuous. Ema would not allow herself to make the same mistakes once more so, the data had to be transferred and destroyed. However, Ema couldn't bear to do that now. It meant too much to her. She was a child. Still sentimental and emotional. So, she did the next best thing until she could work up the nerve.

Once more her father was working late - screwing the receptionist at the hotel he was holing up in for his work.

Once more her mother was having a nap on the lounge - passed out from drinking endlessly from the flask she hid in the inner pocket of her office wear.

It was quiet. Lonely, perhaps since her and her parents' flat was always quiet. Ema had no one but herself, it felt. That's why it was better for her to be invisible and stealthy. She didn't want to cause trouble lest more arises. As a child, she was not a fool. She was well aware that everything about her life was unstable and unhealthy.

So, Ema curls up on her lumpy bed and bundled up the sheets around her. For a moment, as she closes her eyes and forces herself to sleep, it is like the world around her does not exist. It's just her. Warmth slowly builds from within her. Her hand beneath her pillow; her fingertips grazing the cover of her pink journal that she can't get rid of just yet.

The following morning, something spectacular and peculiar happens.

It's Sunday today and her mother doesn't have work. Her father is nowhere to be seen so her mother is actually out as well; eating her not-so-hard-won money rather than drinking it with no mind paid towards her daughter.

Ema woke up not long before noon. Her first thoughts of the day collide with each other. She feels sunlight on the back of her neck, a comfort, and she feels her hands crumple up the sheets beneath her as she gets mad about yesterday, a discomfort, and she wonders where her mother is because she can sense the time it and infuriates her how much time she's lost.

So Ema opens her eyes once more and the world is a little clearer. A little brighter. A little murkier and a lot bigger.

Her bed creaks as she gets herself off it. Something rolls on her bed and taps against her wrist and she brushes against it. She becomes confused and it immediately ensnares her attention. She turns her head; her hair falling over her shoulders strangely; lit up by the sun. And there, in a patch of a shadows is an egg.

A single egg.

Not like a chicken's egg but close. The shape is slightly off for it to be a chicken's egg as the base is too obtuse. But, more glaringly, the colour was completely off. The egg was painted. It was a navy blue in colour with a silver and mustard yellow pattern to it. Around its midsection was like a belt, Ema supposed - obviously in hindsight - as it was composed of an oval adjoined by two rectangles and a band. In the middle of the oval was some sort of insignia; almost like a dollop of yellowy wasabi with a chunk out of its middle, but, in hindsight, Ema knew this to be a stylisation of the form the human soul supposedly took.

Ema picked it up and inspected it. The egg was warm. There was something alive within it. Her eyes widened as she noted the pattern repeated on both the front and back of the egg. She wondered what it could possibly be. She was well aware of many nuances of puberty, having read up on the subject quite well out of curiosity, and she was certain that humans did not produce eggs like this.

So, she did what any little budding investigator would do. She scrounged up the facts she did have and began to write them all down. She pulled out her decommissioned spy journal and a pen from her bag and began to scribble away.

This was exactly the kind of mystery she had been hankering for. It truly freed up her guiltily cluttered mind and reminded her of why she wanted to be a spy. Her deepest thirst - one that not even her inherited greed can dare compare to - is for knowledge. She had an insatiable mind and unflinching eyes after all.

As her hand filled line after line in her book, Ema began to notice that her desire to document was eliciting movement from the egg but also herself. Her mind cleared. She felt as though she had been cleansed somehow and something marvellous was on the cusp of happening as a result. It was refreshing. She hadn't felt this way in a long time; it reminded her of the sequences in action films wherein the scientist or hacker was having a cool montage where their skills were being tested against the rival. It was riveting.

'Finished.' Ema mumbled to herself.

She had written out everything she knew about this egg and eggs in general. She had done drawings from different angles and had begun to write up theories and hypotheses. Her journal was back in action but when she finished, she pushed aside her journal. She remembered her most solemn vow. She had to restart her journal or she would wind up making the same mistakes.

The egg tilted side to side. It swayed like Ema's soul. Then, the egg jumped. Her eyes widened. The egg landed and it did not break. At least not like how Ema expected. She had expected it to shatter along the bottom and for gross egg whites to seep out through the cracks. Instead, the egg cracked longways; across the belt winding around it, almost. The top completely separated from the bottom in what was almost a leap. From within, egg white did not spill. Instead, a brilliant white light followed by sparkles.

'So, what do you know so far, my darling?'

A voice: pertinent and snobby.

A body manifested next: a small, fairy-like creature but she had no wings nor pointed ears. She did not wear petals for clothes but rather, the outfit of a casino dealer. She wore a white blouse and a black vest coat with a silver belt. The silver belt was identical to the one patterned on the egg; complete with the yellow soul in lieu of a proper buckle. She wore navy blue, skinny-leg trousers and they had a silver accent running along the side. She wore sneakers that were grey.

Curious, purple eyes met Ema's and she felt as though she had met a kindred soul.

'Who are…? What are…?'

Ema was speechless. The girl before her pouted: pushed stray strands of lilac hair behind her ears then stuck her hands on her hips. She furiously raised an eyebrow.

'What sort of investigation technique is that, my dear? Let's try again,' the fairy raised her hand and with a waggle of her finger, 'See, Saw, Seen,' and a magic spell, something completely strange took over Ema.

The silver belt the fairy wore hooked around Ema's waist. She straightened up. Blinked. She felt the same but also different.

'For the sake of your safety, you better give me full details: I want name, place of birth, and rank - as a start.' Ema commanded.

The fairy beamed proudly. Ema covered her mouth. That hadn't felt like her voice but her throat reverberated nevertheless. The belt disappeared from around her waist; as did the strange calm over her.

'Much better, my darling. Gladly: my name is Rei, my place of birth would be your heart, and I am, from now on, your ever faithful companion - your Guardian Chara.'

'Guardian Chara?' Ema echoed. 'Born from… my heart?'

Her eyes watered. The fairy - no, the Guardian Chara - softened. She floated closer to Ema and wiped away her tears.

'I was born from your determination to become a spy. Your ambition to do as you please birthed me. I understand your loneliness and your admiration better than anyone else. I shall do everything in my power to help you become a spy. After all, I am your Guradian Chara, Rei – written with the character for "ghost" or "spirit".'

Ema's eyes widened. It sounded far too fantastical to be true yet here Rei was.

'Really?' Ema asked, gasped.

'Truly.' Rei replied as she put her hand over her heart. She bowed shallowly. 'However,' her eyes flashes, 'my existence can only be sustained so long as your hopes and dreams for the future remain unburdened. Confusion and doubt may cause me to become trapped or worse… disappear.'

Loneliness struck a chord inside of Ema's heart. Her lower lip wobbled as her eyes welled up with tears. She swallowed thickly. She could sense that Rei was a true companion to her after all she had birthed her but still. Ema swore on her hot breaths in that moment to forever protect these dreams of hers so that Rei would be able to remain by her side. Soon, Ema's choked back sobs broke the levee.

She bawled. Rei allowed her to. For now. Crying could be a weakness of character when exploited by the wrong person; in the right situation, it could be a lethal tool for gaining sympathy and a little trust. Crocodile tears, of course.

From there on out, it has always been Ema and Rei against the world. Even as the world Ema knew crumbled, she always had Rei. Rei is why Ema is perceived to liking to chatter to herself. The others - no one Ema would meet for a good long time - had the ability to see or hear Rei but there are always exceptions.

Life is a messy and complicated road with detour after detour. Rei may have been born from Ema's ambition of becoming a spy but something changed along the way. Plans unravelled and things didn't happen like they should have. Still, Ema found herself throughout it all and Rei remained an unwavering source of inspiration.

Ema's childhood goal of being wanted by the all the agencies remained unchanged though. The execution of such a goal was just different. Nowadays, she was wanted for all her illegal activities rather than her ability to perform espionage within the boundaries of some morality and legality.

Rather than become a spy, Ema had become a hacker, and though such a change should have caused Rei to waste away however it was Rei who had triggered such a drastic course of action. The second event from Ema's youth that impacted her somewhat in order to become the adult she is today.

It was sometime around when Ema had turned fourteen. Not quite on the cusp of fifteen just yet; nor the next grade actually as it had been quite wintry. Snow had been expected over the weekend, Ema recalls, as she had spent much time that important day in a scarf and thigh-high socks along with her sailor suit school uniform.

She had also spent much time that day in something far too light and summery but the cold hadn't hit her. She was impervious to weather and much, much more.

Ema dearly desired to avoid going home but she knew she couldn't loiter after club activities; she was a member of the computer club nowadays but the school wouldn't permit it if she stayed longer. So, she had to resort to skipping through the internet cafes in the area. Anything to escape her home life which had been disintegrating around her. Divorce was in full swing but neither parent was good at civility or paperwork apparently. The school didn't know this.

Ema slowly sipped a lukewarm cup of coffee that she had ordered an hour ago. The employees didn't mind. The waitresses could tell something was wrong with her and that's why she came so frequently so they didn't question it. They let her slide.

Rei floated down beside Ema and sat in the keyboard. She looked up at the screen and became both horrified and impressed.

'A-Are you doing what I think you're doing?' Rei asked, stammered. Her voice was brittle.

'Depends.' Ema whispered to herself. 'Do you think I'm looking at someone else's bank account.'

Ema needed money but she couldn't get a job. The school wouldn't allow it no matter how dire the circumstances but Ema needed to pay her way out of her current life and her parents weren't going to do that for her either. So, Ema had begun to toy with her skills and the lives of others. She had taken up hacking as a hobby, she supposed. It could be useful towards her life.

Rei got up. Ema paused what she was doing.

'D-Do you still want to be a spy… darling?' Rei asked.

'I am spying on someone right now.' Ema chuckled wryly.

'Qu-Quite right, I um, suppose.' Rei replied.

'Why?' Ema asked, her voice dragging out her question. 'Am I - Am I weakening you?'

'Quite the opposite, my darling, I just felt a bizarre surge of strength.'

Rei and Ema have talked a lot about this particular conversation and what it meant that Rei remained despite Ema not having been a child for quite some time. Rei believes that Ema's selfish refusal of loneliness has kept her in tact; that she's become some sort of tool like a microphone or video camera. But also, because Ema had achieved much ambition in her time yet had fallen quite short at the same time.

Perhaps, Rei had not been born of Ema's desire to be a spy but rather from her greed and her everlasting thirst for knowledge. Her desire to take something a part then put it back together again just to see if she could. Or some combination of the two. It's hard to adjust, either way something about being a bored and broke fourteen year old in an internet cafe had triggered another milestone in Ema's life and that was the Character Transformation.

Rei raised an eyebrow. Ema could feel herself shake; her fingers twitched over the left and right side of the mouse she was using. At first, she had thought it to be guilt or the caffeine but Rei gave her reason to believe otherwise.

Ema quickly transferred money to herself and downed the last of her coffee. It's bitter taste fell dully on her tongue and reviled her as it had gone cold. She tried not to act suspiciously but she was revved up to say the least. Rei was even acting uncharacteristically fidgety.

Ema left soon after. She improperly shut down the computer and fled. She and Rei ended up in an alley behind the cafe. Light from oncoming traffic sandwiched the darkness so overall, she felt safe here but whether or not she could be seen was different.

Ema dug through her things at Rei's command and pulled out Rei's egg. Rei gently floated around Ema and landed on her hand. She inspected the egg thoroughly.

'What's the matter?' Ema asked.

Rei whipped around and chortled; back of her hand against her cheek. Her laugh was annoying and raucous.

'I have excellent news, my darling.' Rei replied.

She jumped off of Ema's hand and pecked Ema's cheek. Ema blinked.

'Pardon?'

Rei continued to float up. She grinned. 'Lift up your hand towards me.'

'Whatever you say, ma'am.' Ema shrugged.

She raised her hand but kept the egg caged in her fingers firmly lest she drop it. She took a breath and the feeling inside of her continued to build. It was familiar. It fervently reminded her of the emotions that had swirled through her the night she had manifested Rei from her heart. It was vivid and guilty but lovely nevertheless.

'Do as I do.' Rei continued.

'Alright.'

Rei lifted her own hand much like she had instructed Ema to do. Ema's arm was beginning to tingle; either from blood rush or from something else. Rei's eyes gleamed. Ema's shone curiously.

'Circuit that links the heart and the future: my own self… confirmed!'

As Rei had spoke, drew her hand back to her body so that her palm was beneath where her heart was.

Ema licked her lips. The words echoed in her head. She felt like she had heard them before. Rei eyed her impatiently. Something like magic coursed through her veins as she spoke them for herself. The emotions inside of her became more ardent than before. She steeled herself. She locked her arm so that it jutted out from her. Rei smiled and she returned to her egg. Her body began to become iridescent.

'Circuit that links the heart and the future: my own self… confirmed!' Ema shouted.

She hadn't meant to but her voice rose to a crescendo as boundless energy and magic surged through her. Ema brought her hand back to her heart and light - pure and strong - burnt from inside of her. It engulfed her but the light, once white, then turned a mild blue. Rei was absorbed into her egg and it sealed around her perfectly. She was grinning: giddy and gleeful but most importantly, she couldn't be prouder of Ema. Then, from within her egg, Rei sank into Ema's heart and from that, an unimaginable and indescribable power burst forth.

A powerful wind blew back Ema and she felt weightless as she was cleansed by her own soul and her own feelings. They were confusing and convoluted and a little bit painful but they were hers. Knowing that, affirming that, accepting that gave Ema strength in the face of this transformation as her body began to shift.

No longer did her scarf coil around her neck. Her clothes shifted into a cascade of sparkles and then into nothingness as light dressed her. It tightly discoloured her skin, turned her translucent and pale and blue, then brought forth the sensation of fabrics bursting forth from thin air.

A holster strapped around the midsection of her thigh as a sort of fabric wound around her body. It became a sort of body-suit: it sealed around her mouth, neck, and shoulders. It was sort of slinky feeling on her skin. Her torso was then covered up in a navy blue vest that was made of something akin to kevlar; it scratched against the other fabric used to make this bizarre outfit.

Her hands became constrained by a pair of fingerless gloves and a pair of socks snaked up her legs. They were tough and resistant. Her toes wiggled inside of a pair of iron-capped boots that were laced up and ready for combat.

Then to conclude the sequence of transformation, a belt was magically clipped around her waist. It was the same silver belt with a yellow soul in the buckle that Rei wore and was patterned on that. With that, Ema felt satisfied. Thoughtlessly, she struck some poses in order to understand her newfound flexibility.

'Character Transformation confirmed: Ghost Girl.'

With a breath, Ema was released from the light and revealed as someone entirely new. She mussed up her hair as she assessed what happened. Ema was stricken to realise that her windswept mane had changed colours somehow; her hair was now more grey than it was magenta. She was uncertain was to what that meant.

She felt like a bizarre medium between herself and who she wanted to be. Inside of her, she could feel Rei. Her fingertips grazed over her chest as she mutedly revelled in an epiphany. Currently, as she was now, she was not Bessho Ema. She was not the peculiar little girl with pointed ears, ever-watching eyes, and a sailor suit.

She was Ghost Girl.

And Ghost Girl was a part of Bessho Ema but, overall, she was not Bessho Ema. Still, Ghost Girl was uncertain as to what that meant. Sensing the discord in her heart, Rei's voice bubbled through Ghost Girl's mind.

'What has take place is the wondrous fusion of our souls: who you are and who you would like to be. Together, we are powerful. We are an individual capable of so much.'

'I understand.' Ghost Girl replied.

She strode forth and a blast of frigid wind caught her. She did not feel it. She was impervious to its icy fangs. She kept her head high and movements slow. As she walked, she had a marvellous revelation: at long last, her brain could compete with everything she saw and analyse it with a blink. Time bent for her almost. It was like she had a supercomputer inside her brain; suddenly data could be extracted endlessly, enhanced and information rendered as she saw fit.

Furthermore, Ghost Girl noticed another bizarre power that came with this form. She could lower her sense of self to recreate some sort of stealth device. She became invisible to the eyes of those in the street. She became less than a shadow yet she could still interact with her surroundings. It was fitting.

Her transformation as Ghost Girl wore off as she continued to experiment with her powers. Ema relished her newfound abilities and skills. Rei was more than pleased with it as well. Together, they realised that as Ghost Girl they could become quite the mercenary and hacker. Not quite what was envisioned in childhood but it was what Ema wanted now that she knew what the magic inside of her would-be self was capable of.

Such events in Ema's lifetime brought her to the life she lives now with Rei at her side. And with Rei at her side, a very unique path was elected for her. Which has culminated in where Ema is now: neither aligned with the Knights of Hanoi nor SOL Technologies - whoever will pay her the most, really.

And at the moment the person who wants to pay the most for her is SOL Technologies; specifically Zaizen Akira and what a peculiar man he is.

He has all the information. He knows the endgame and personally, he cares much for it. Meanwhile, Ema also has all the information. She knows the endgame and personally doesn't care for it. This will one day put them at crosshairs but for now, as he arrives by limousine and she arrives by motorcycle at the moonlit river locale they agreed on, their personal qualms with the endgame does not matter.

Ema smiles - red lips newly painted on - and he scowls in returns. He ignores her and pulls out his phone. His thumb rapidly slides over it and he is inputting codes, no doubt. Not liking being ignored, Ema pouts and checks her phone. She watches as the numbers tick over. This time, she smiles for real and the two draw closer.

'So…' Akira begins. 'You're one of them.'

'Ghost Girl isn't any moniker.' Ema teases.

Akira is displeased to hear that at the least.

Rei comes out of hiding and crosses her arms. 'I don't like this young man, I don't know what you see in him.'

Ema playfully averts her eyes and giggles to herself.

Akira frowned.

Rei floats closer to Akira's face and prodded his cheeks. 'Not exactly a handsome young man. Not to mention he seems t-'

Akira flicked around his face. 'I can hear someone and is there a fly around…?' he grumbles to himself.

Rei floats away. 'Wait… Can you hear me?'

Akira's eyes zip around; at least trying to vaguely find the source of the noise. 'Argh, you must be Ema's… thing.'

'I am not Ema's thing!' Rei yelled, indignant and hands on her hips. 'If anything, my darling is my thing!'

'Whatever you like, Rei.' Ema muses.

'Hmph, so you have a sixth sense then?' Rei said and she waved her hands in front of Akira's eyes. He was unresponsive to her movements though. 'No… You can't… You can only hear me, is that correct?'

'Yes. I blessed in that I do not have cursed sight but unfortunately, my ears are quite sharp.' Akira explained.

'Isn't that peculiar?' Ema asks; her voice is chirpy and she bats her eyelashes.

'Yes, very.' Rei hesitantly agreed. 'So, young man, tell me: what is it that you wish to achieve from my darling and I?'

'I would appreciate it if Ghost Girl tracked down the Character they call Playmaker. Currently, we have no leads on who he is. Just that he is a Character Transformation. He's… He's the one that hurt my sister and I will not abide by that; he mustn't get away with it whilst she wastes away in a coma.' Akira snarled.

Rei grew smarmy. 'Sounds like a fun little challenge.'

Ema recedes and tapped her finger on her chin; she cautiously eyed Rei. 'What are you planning, Director?'

'See, Saw, Seen!'

Rei snapped her fingers and she Character Changed Akira; not Ema.

Akira's body went stiff and a belt suddenly manifested around his waist. He tugged on it but his strength sapped away. His fury became replaced by something else. His eyebrows twitched and he gritted his teeth. He had no choice but to accept the turn of events.

'You do the most interesting things sometimes, Rei.' Ema giggled.

'I try.' Rei sighed.

Ema drew in closer.

'Consider it a freebie from me. Don't you feel better, young man?' Rei asked. 'We'll carry your anger towards Playmaker. If you keep frowning like that you'll look far older than you are.'

With no strength in his hands to tug at the belt because of the unnatural calm over him, Akira briefly surrendered.

'Rei - if that's what you call yourself - remove your curse at once.' he demanded.

'Oh-ho-ho, he's trying to boss me around. How cute.' Rei chuckled.

Ema slid her hands onto Akira's shoulders. 'You remind me of me when I'm Character Changed.'

'Yes, well, that is the affect those devils have over people.' Akira growled. He attempted to raise his voice but he was blocked off from doing so.

Ema's nimble fingers ghosted over his neck; dug in between the soft cotton of his blouse and his skin. She undid his tie and he did little to stop her. Nothing more than a glare. She tilted her head to the side and the moonlight gleamed in her eyes; darkening them, made them seem more ethereal. His glare softened. With Rei's magic possessing him, he was finding it hard to maintain anything more than a neutral or calm expression.

'So, do you feel like James Bond yet? Am I your Bond girl?' Ema asked. She got up on her tiptoes and her breath, minty, skittered over his lips.

Akira caught some of her hair and twisted it around his fingers. His other hand caressed the side of Ema's face. She swooned but it seemed in farce.

'So this is how you want to be then?' he asked. 'Your would be self…'

Ema couldn't help but notice how bitter and scorned he sounded. There had to be a story there; one no doubt involving the Character Transformation known as Blue Angel; his sister.

'Yes. Sleek, sophisticated, calm: just like a spy in the movies.' Ema replied.

'I see.' Akira replied. 'So am I permitted to…?'

'Yes, please.' Ema said and she took the lead of the kiss Akira had fumblingly initiated.

Her lips - silky, scented by her lipstick and mints - met his. Her hands clasped behind his neck and she brought him down so she could lean back. She lifted her foot and deepened the kiss. Surprise stunned Akira thoroughly. He blinked and then hesitantly closed his eyes; nowhere near as enthusiastic as Ema who had thrown her very being into the kiss.

Akira didn't even notice that the spell over him was broken. He tried to meet Ema's passion for him instead. His hand cupped her cheek and he freed his other hand from her hair so that he could wrap it around her waist. Ema however was the one to close the distance. Her pace was not something he could keep. He was very systematic and awkward. She was wild and spontaneous. They weren't a good fit but it was a good kiss.

He broke off first and was embarrassed to realise he couldn't pin this behaviour on Rei. He heard the tinkling of bells - fairy-like laughter - around him. It annoyed him to say the least. Ema placed her fingers over her mouth; gently assessing if she would need to reapply lipstick but also demurely implying that she had enjoyed the kiss. Not that she would let him know for it was far more entertaining to rile him up rather than praise him.

'Gosh, you wouldn't make a very good James Bond.' Ema teased.

'Well, if that has satisfied you, I must take my leave.' Akira said and he excused himself. Fled.

'Something of a coward, isn't he?' huffed Rei.

'I think he's sweet.' Ema murmured.

'I heard that.'

Akira turned around and glared. He locked eyes with Ema and even from a distance, he couldn't help but be dazzled by them. Ema smiled.

'I have a big night ahead of me.' she called out to him as he had reached his limousine.

Akira bowed to her. 'My apologies then.'

'The words are meaningless to me but if you want to be genuine about it then wire me a little extra.'

'Like hell.' Akira pulled open the door in a tizz.

Ema laughed at how emotional he was. It was surprising. He seemed so cold and distant but he was actually quite warm. She couldn't help but wonder what sort of egg was once in his heart.

Ema took a breath and turned around; faced her motorcycle. It was time to head-off. She hadn't been exaggerating. It was going to take most the night to devise a plan to lure out Playmaker and to lay out the traps she was about to begin planning.

She mounted her bike and kicked off. She revved it up and it howled like a beast. Rei joined her on her shoulder and the two took off into the night. Both had a feeling more was at play than just Akira trying to save his position at SOL Technologies. More at play than just her and her roguish position on the endgame.

Ema fears that the culmination her growing up was about to manifest tomorrow: mere hours away now.