Amari read the letter again and sighed. He would call up his boss tomorrow and ask him if Cynthia could possibly take her daughter away from him. Emma was Cynthia's blood, and Amari didn't really have any legal claim over her and Frate beyond the mother giving her blessing. If Cynthia wanted to take them, then maybe she could. He wasn't entirely sure. He stood up and, being a stronger men than most of the "spies" this country produced, didn't kick the desk. Months of living off the grid to raise his new child only to be stolen back by the D Agency, and then to run away when their government hunted them down. He was afraid of a lot of things then; of dying; Emma dying; Frate dying; any of them getting captured; of how the new country they were running away to would treat them. Years of spying for a foreign government, and sacrificing everything just for a new life. There was only one reason he didn't scream and kick and cry over someone trying to steal away the his beloved little daughter and their dog: it would wake them up.

Though he did almost indulge of his old bad habit of smoking. Though the others still joked about it from time to time, they accepted, and possibly even respected him giving up smoking for Emma. He didn't want to hurt his little girl after all. He didn't know what caused it, but he was afraid, and perhaps paranoid, that it would give her something terrible like asthma. He wanted the best for her.

Perhaps that would be the best for her. Cynthia coming along and possibly taking away Emma (he hoped that it was just a visit, though she implied taking her daughter to see her new home and other things in England). He really did struggle living in a country that was very anti Japanese, especially since a lot of the adult Japanese males went to Sand Island. He did try to pass himself off as half Chinese, half-British, which would probably not normally work, but his daughter was a pure English girl. Even the Chinese Americans on the island couldn't tell too well that that he was really Japanese only, and that his daughter was adopted. It helped that despite them being different races, they still looked similar. Perhaps it was because he probably looked like her father. Maybe that was why Cynthia gave them to him.

He was supposed to live in the country of his choice along with his daughter and their puppy as permanent civilian citizens after nearly dying many times for a country that didn't care about his sacrifices. He had to give more then the rest of them did, because he wanted more. He gave them information, a small spy network, and even a pledge of loyalty to them over Yuuki (hopefully the day would never arise that it would be challenged, but he knew better than to hope). All he wanted was to be free, whole, himself, and happy. He thought that being a spy when he first signed up would mean endless freedom flying away from yourself and others, just blending in. He now knew too well that it was merely lying to everyone, even your own self, until you didn't know your own purpose and whether you should really cut off parts of yourself just to play a masquerade. Because masquerades were only stressful, and about cutting off parts of yourself, not gliding freely from one thing to another. There was no freedom at all.

Only pitch black solitude.

Amari reflected on his mentor's words before deciding that he should at least pick out a presentable suit for tomorrow. He fished around in the closet for something he used to wear all the time before noticing that there was a stain on it. I guess that I should wash it. I have to look presentable, and impress them any way that I can.

Though they always seemed to find more flaws in his work than in their own spies. Even though he was miles above them in ability and skill.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wash away the stain. It was bitter, and slightly nauseous, but he almost got used to it after awhile. An hour passed, then two, and then Amari just gave up and let it out to dry. Some stains would never go away.