Author's Note:

Edited chapters 2, 9, and 10 to give more insight into Ninten's family life and inheritance of PSI. It's been a while, so some refreshers to keep in mind:

(1) PSI is ALWAYS inherited (Exception: See number 4). You can't get PSI randomly, and vice versa. Someone can live their entire life without Awakening their powers, but the gene will still pass on.

(2) A Dormant psychic has a higher chance of being Awakened around exposure to other Awakened psychics.

(3) Dalaam gave birth to the first psychics.

(4) In Dalaam, a long time ago, the first psychics were humans who received their powers from the Dark Dragon. Among these were the Magypsies. Fassad et al were once humans before they became the Magypsies and turned immortal.

(5) Swine flu decimated Giygas's generation of psychics... but that isn't to say that all of them died. ;)

"THEN WAIT A MINUTE," YOU ASK. "HOW THE HECK ARE THERE PSYCHICS IN ONETT?"

...Happy reading. :)

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~oO0Oo~

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The buzzing hangover woke him out of his stupor. With a grimace, Flint slowly rolled his head over. Lighter was slumped in his kitchen stool, eyes half-lidded from drink.

Flint wasn't surprised. It didn't take much for Lighter to get inebriated. Lightweight, Flint used to call him.

And drunk, Lighter would giggle and shove him in the shoulder. "You're as Flinty as ever," he'd shoot back.

A clunk. A clatter.

Lighter swiveled around in his seat.

"Hey. Hey, Flint," Lighter slurred, clapping a heavy hand on his back. "Flint. My man. You... you have it hard. You have it hard, man." Another clap on the back. "I loved her. Hinawa. I loved her, y'know. Since we were kids. Even after she chose you, man." Lighter hiccuped. His eyes pinged with tears. "She loved you. She loved you, man. She... she don't like to see you drinking. You can't keep doing this to yourself, man. You know? Man."

Flint only adjusted the brim of his hat.

Lighter laughed. "You were always like a lil' bro, man. Annoying lil' bro, man. Like, we'd fist fight an' stuff...remember that time I broke your arm? Good old times. Hinawa threw a right fit over that one. Slapped a sucker punch right in my noggin'. She's always hated me for treating you like shit. Maybe that's why she chose you in the end. But she not here anymore. She gone."

"Lighter."

"But that's okay." Lighter clumsily patted his childhood friend on the head. "You... A-As your senpai, I'll have to look out for you, you know?"

"Lighter."

"You saved my son. Fuel woulda died in that burning house if it hadn't been for you. My wife... well, it was too late for her - God bless her name - but you saved my son. You saved him. I'll never forget that, man."

Realizing that Lighter was in no condition to listen, Flint lowered his head.

Lighter hiccuped. "The kids. How are the kids holding up, man?" Flint didn't respond, but Lighter didn't notice, shaking his own bottle and frowning into its sloshing contents. "I saw Lucas the other day. It's been a month since the accident, hasn't it? He's still crying at Hinawa's grave. Breaks my poor heart into two, man. And Claus..." Lighter's frown deepened. "He don't do no crying. He like... He kind of looks like you, man. Got that serious look on his face, like he's about to do something stupid." Lighter peered into his eyes. "Flint... when joo last speak wid jour sons?"

Flint shifted in his seat. "Hinawa's always known how to take care of kids. Not me. I work-"

"Work, work, work!" Lighter slammed the glass onto the counter. "Man, you can't do this to your sons!"

"I have to work. We blew all the savings on hospital bills. Life support..." Flint's mouth suddenly went dry. "If I work hard, the farm can support us again. But Hinawa's right. The kids are smart. They'll go to school. They'll learn what they need to know. Get better jobs, earn a better living-"

"THEY'RE YOUR SONS."

"They don't need me."

"You're not even tryin', are you?!" Lighter jabbed a finger into his direction, but with his unbalanced coordination, nearly toppled face first into the counter. "Flint, you are one hell of a pussy."

Flint furrowed his brow. "My sons have to learn how to stand upright on their own. They're strong, Lighter-"

"You a pussy. You the biggest pussy in the world." Lighter's laugh petered out into another hiccup. "You always let Hinawa fight your battles for you. Look where that got her - splattered bloody on a bloody windshield. She died... but she saved them. She saved your sons. Lookit you! Proud aren't yah now, tossing your sons onto a silver platter to God like first class gutter trash?! You pussy-"

Flint shoved him hard in the chest, and Lighter stumbled backwards into a wooden table.

Lighter had the gall to giggle at that, the bastard. "You fucked up, Flint. Admit it. You fucked up real bad." But Lighter clapped a reassuring hand onto his back. "Ah, Flint. Flint, my man. You and your excuses, man. Seriously, fuck money. Fuck that shit." The warm hand on Flint's back sluggishly slid up to ruffle his hair. "Go home. Your sons need you."

Flint lowered his arms to his sides.

Catching his expression, Lighter shook his head. "Flint... You're a damn fool. A hopeless case. 'Course they need you. They need you as much as you need them." Lighter hiccuped, looping an arm around Flint's shoulders and steering him to the door. "I'm kicking you out. Fuel's got Sunday School tomorrow, man."

A quiet response escaped from Flint's mouth. "Thanks, Lighter."

"You bet." Lighter closed the door.

Flint breathed out, letting his lonely breath spiral into the cold air. The stars above twinkled, lighting the streets he knew by heart. There stood the stone well in the center of town, faded and old, yet dignified with an ancient grandeur. There lay the snow-kissed sunflower fields, stretching its arms for miles on end. There twisted the cobbled sidewalk where once upon a time, Hinawa had kissed him for the very first time...

His heavy boots shuffled out into the chill of night.

Tazmily had changed. More people were moving to Onett. Convenient, they said. Higher pay, they said. What was a small, dinky neighborhood like Tazmily to compare?

And his sons...

Their faces materialized into his head: Claus eagerly waving his hands for another piggyback ride, Lucas giggling whenever Flint tickled his sides.

What was he doing out here?

Nostalgia hit Flint right in the heart, and all so suddenly, Flint wanted to be there; he wanted to go home, to wipe away Lucas's tears, to tell Claus that it was going to be all right. He missed their twin faces brightening up into identical smiles, missed hearing their happy laughter whenever they wrestled each other down the stairs for Hinawa's first omelet of the day.

As if of their own accord, fingers fumbled for the cellphone in his pocket. A million scenarios raced through his head. Yes, he would call home. As expected, Claus would pick up the phone. Claus would tell his crying brother that daddy called, that daddy was coming home, that daddy was going to fix everything. And Flint would return home with his arms full of flowers and toys (because come to think of it, he hadn't bought the twins any presents since the car accident on Christmas Eve, had he?), an apology resting on his lips and hope fluttering in his heart-

The phone screen flickered on.

One unread message. Fifteen missed calls. Three voicemails: two from home, one from an unknown cell. Tearing his eyes from the flickering screen, Flint jammed the button.

Voicemail One. A petrified voice, desperate and terrified.

It was Claus.

"DAD, HELP! I-" Background noise. Static crackled through speakers as if the caller had dropped the phone against solid concrete. "-ucas! Lucas, wake up. WAKE UP! DAD, LUCAS ISN'T-"

A beep. Voicemail two.

"DAD! DADDY, PLEASE!" A sob distorted Claus's voice. "I-It was an accident, and I - ... HELP ME, DAD!" A hysterical scream. "HE'S BLEEDING! DAD, HE'S NOT MOVING! Wh-What do I do?! Lucas? LUCAS! Lucas, p-please wake up-!"

A beep. Voicemail three.

A quiet voice. "Flint, this is Duster. If you get this call, we're at the General Hospital in downtown Onett." Flint's blood turned to ice. As if reading his mind, Duster hastily continued, "Your sons are fine. I don't know what happened, but from the sounds of it, Claus took off with your hunting knife in the dead of night. Thankfully, Lucas caught him in the outskirts of Sunshine forest, but there was a scuffle, and Lucas received a nasty concussion. He's unconscious, but the nurses did a quick check up. Lucas is all right. When he wakes up, I'll drive the boys back home."

His heart flying into his throat, Flint pulled up the last text.

We're back. It was sent hours ago.

Lucas. Claus.

His sons... His two precious sons...

Flint bolted home. He tore through the field of dead crops, paying no heed to the ones he trampled - because his sons, HIS sons needed him - and in time, the happy yellow fence of the farmhouse peeked into view. Ramming his shoulder against the gate of the wooden fence, which rattled and swung hard on its hinges, Flint flung the front door open with a sweaty palm-

Duster lifted his head from the kitchen table. A weary relief entered the college student's eyes. "They're upstairs."

Flint muttered a word of thanks before heading into the hallway, flying up the stairs two at a time. The bedroom was open. The soft glow of moonlight washed over the walls, and with a painstaking agony, Flint stepped inside.

Lucas was sprawled out with his back against the mattress. His chest rose and fell in deep slumber (His youngest son had always been a deep sleeper, hadn't he?). Exhaling a sigh of relief, Flint dragged his heavy footsteps over, and lowered his hand to stroke his son's hair. Lucas relaxed; his warm breaths tickled the back of Flint's calloused palm.

Lucas didn't look injured. In fact, snoring loudly, Lucas was happily oblivious to his tiny feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

Flint suppressed a smile. Sleep brought out different sides to his sons. Loud, hyperactive Claus was a silent sleeper. Quiet, meek Lucas was as noisy as a baby drago.

"Let's move you up," Flint said, and with a grunt, slid Lucas up to a more comfortable position. As he did so, an odd discoloration caught his eye. With a frown, Flint brushed the soft bangs from his son's forehead.

A murky bruise stretched across Lucas's temple.

Stunned, Flint stared at the bruise. He lowered his hands, resting them against the bed. As he did so, the mattress squeaked, dipping under his weight.

Its second occupant stirred.

Uttering a sleepy noise, Claus furrowed his forehead and involuntarily fumbled for the bare space at his side. Not feeling his brother nearby, he groggily pushed himself up, patting the bed with his hands. His eyes fluttered open. "...Dad?"

"I'm right here, son."

"Where's...?" Spotting Lucas sleeping a little distance away, Claus's panicked expression eased. Claus crawled over, managing to wrap his arms around his brother's waist. Burying his head into Lucas's hair, a happy noise escaped from Claus's lips. "Lucas..."

Flint tucked Claus under the covers.

Claus blinked, as if noticing him for the first time. "Where were you, dad?"

Not knowing what to say, Flint settled for resting his other hand on Claus's head. His palm looked large in comparison. "Daddy had a few things to take care of," he said gruffly. "What were you thinking, running off with my hunting knife?"

Claus uneasily fisted the sheet in his tiny hands. "But you said if we needed help, you'd always be there for us. You said so..."

"Daddy's here now." Flint pried the sheets out of his Claus's hands. " Go to sleep."

Claus blinked his watery eyes. He didn't look the least bit fooled. "Dad..." he whispered. "You went out drinking again, didn't you?"

Flint uncomfortably shifted in place.

His eldest son had always been too clever for his own good.

When Flint didn't respond, Claus sniffled, looking dismayed. "Dad...I thought you said anything could come true, as long as we prayed from the bottom of our hearts? I prayed hard and hard, but you never came..." Claus scrunched his eyes. "And mom...Mom can't even punish me anymore now. I... don't want it like this..."

Something lodged itself into Flint's throat. A sour taste pervaded his tongue; Flint was somehow unable to meet his son's eyes. "Daddy's sorry. Daddy's sorry, Claus-"

"You're always sorry." Another sniffle. Claus's anguished gaze, betrayed and hurt, pierced through his soul. "You promised..." Moisture filled Claus's eyes. He tugged his hand out of his father's grasp, then clung tighter onto Lucas's arm. "You promised, daddy. You said no more drinking."

"Daddy wasn't drinking-"

"Yes, you were!" Tears freely streamed down Claus's cheeks. He hugged Lucas close to his chest. Another sob racked through his tiny frame. "You're a liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

Lucas stirred with a whimper.

Ears perking up at the sound, Claus quickly rubbed his wet eyes with his sleeve, then irritably crawled over to push Flint aside with his tiny hands. "Mmh!"

Flint let himself fall back, watching them, but Claus had already turned around for his brother.

"Lucas?" Claus whispered, suddenly afraid.

Sweat dotting his tiny forehead, poor Lucas twisted and turned, trapped in a terrible nightmare. "Claus-"

Snuggling close to his side, Claus pressed his warm cheek against his. "I'm right here."

"Claus...!"

"Shhh," Claus mumbled, stroking his brother's sweaty hair. "You're gonna wake the ol' cranky man next door."

Lucas squirmed, emitting another soft cry, but Claus repeated the strokes, whispering reassuring words under his breath. Sinking into the pillows, Lucas gradually relaxed under the soothing touch, then cuddled up against him with a sigh. Satisfied, Claus protectively hugged him, then pressed his lips against the bruise on his brother's temple.

"Eww..." Lucas muttered in his sleep.

"You're ew," Claus said, but pressed his lips against his brother's bruise a second time. Despite himself, the strong sense of relief was evident on Claus's face.

It didn't look like Claus had gotten much sleep, if at all. It couldn't have been an easy feat for someone his age, waking up every now and then to check on his younger brother. Claus must have been tired.

But the face Flint saw said otherwise. Small arms wrapped around his brother for dear life, Claus looked about ready to fight anything.

Sensing the unwanted feeling of being watched, Claus turned to face him with reproachful eyes. "You almost woke him."

"I did," Flint said absentmindedly, his gaze instead preoccupied by the bangs shielding Lucas's bruise. From what Duster had told him, Lucas had received a nasty concussion. The thought sent an uneasy ripple of concern through his mind. Was Lucas all right? Flint took a step forward. "Let me see-"

"No!" Claus snapped, curling himself around his brother. "He's mine."

"You do that," Flint said, tired and unwilling to fight his seven-year-old son. His son couldn't take watch forever. Claus would fall asleep soon, and Flint could take over then.

"He's mine," Claus repeated, burying his face into his brother's shirt. He inhaled deeply. This time, his voice sounded sleepy. "I'm gonna take care of him...better than you ever did."

Adjusting the brim of his hat, Flint rose to his feet.

Claus's sleepy voice tickled his ears. "Dad..." Flint looked back into his direction. Even as a child, Claus's stubborn blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, burning with a strange power. "Why were you drinking?"

Flint's lips went dry. What was he to say to that innocent question? Much less to a child who barely understood the meaning of loss?

Even now, the bitter taste of his shameful sin tingled on his tongue.

So instead, Flint found himself saying, "Daddy wasn't drinking."

And upon hearing that hated phrase, his seven-year-old son fell silent, studied him with a look of pure distrust, then spoke four words that punched a deep hole into his chest.

"I hate you, dad."

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~Chapter Thirty-Six~

Happy Town?

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This winter was as bitter as the last.

A figure, bent and broken, exhaled a puff of breath into the cold air. The weight of heavy depression upon his brow sank his footsteps deeper into the damp snow. An old glove, weary and worn, dusted off a thin layer of frost seeping onto the icy gravestone. With surprising tenderness, the man knelt down, then gently tugged off his own scarf, wrapping it around the gravestone. Patting down the cloth with clumsy fingers, he crouched, silently admiring his own handiwork.

"Good morning, Hinawa."

Of course, she never responded. She was just that - a tombstone. A dead tombstone who would never talk again.

But somehow Flint found himself here of all places. Talking to her like any other day. Changing the flowers like any other day. With a rustle, Flint slipped out a special, brown-paper covered package from his coat.

Sunflowers.

Tearing the package open, Flint steadily patted the vibrant petals over the funeral vase. "I brought you flowers."

The aroma of sunshine whispered into the clearing.

Flint stared at the gravestone, then slipped his hat off his head, bowing his head. "I wish you were here," he said quietly. "I'm not good...with kids. With children. Our children. You would have raised them better." His grip on the hat tightened. "I failed. I promised to keep our sons safe..."

He didn't know whom he was promising anymore.

"Wait here and rest easy. Today...will be different. Today, I will find them..." His hat dropped from his frostbitten fingers.

A ragged intake of breath. His breath spiraled into the air.

A husky whisper escaped from between clenched teeth, and he fell, gripping the icy ground with weather-beaten fingers. Flint closed his eyes, but Lucas's crying was too painful to hear, Claus's spiteful words too loud in his ears.

His broad, steady shoulders shook.

Flint would continue searching. He would trek the mountains a hundred times over, call out his sons' names a thousand times - tens of thousands of times - until his voice broke and became no more. He would die than give up even the slightest hope of hearing a response, because death was nothing, nothing compared to losing both his wife and sons-

Dad, help us. Dad, save us.

One voice. Anything.

Anything to prove that his sons were safe.

Anything to prove that his sons were alive.

A last word dropped from his numb lips.

"Hinawa..."

There was no response but the whisper of the wind.

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~oO0Oo~

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"-where we'll return for the news at three, with the groundbreaking ovation by Politician Aloysius Minch and his stance on Dalaamese immigration. Stay tuned after these commercials."

The portable television flashed with a toothpaste ad.

Ness's mom pushed the tap, shutting off the running water. She wiped her hands on the dishcloth, then leaned back against the sink.

Business in the food stand was slow. Fewer people traversed the streets on foot. The winter chill persuaded most people to stay home, or avoid the cold by transportation. The sudden series of kidnappings had caught Onett by storm. Students of all ages flocked together, traveling in groups to and from school. Mothers refused to let their children play out of sight, holding their hands and fussing over their clothes.

Ness.

Not a day passed without the chef thinking of her eldest son. She saw him everywhere. On the streets. Out in the park. Every black-haired child, every red baseball cap led her hopes up before her heart sank. No, that was not her son. Over and over. Again and again. And every time, she would breathe in and try not to cry.

Mom, she knew Ness would've said, looking up with bright eyes, giving her the earnest smile he had inherited from his own father. From her ex-husband. It's going to be okay.

She let out the choked feeling in her tight chest. Swallowing with difficulty, she took a second to compose herself. Just one. Then it was back to work. The food couldn't cook itself. Money couldn't earn itself.

At the very least, her job kept her busy in the morning. The worst part was coming home. As soon as she opened the front door, her youngest daughter would sprint downstairs as if the girl's very life depended on it. Tracy, with her distressed ponytail tied up from her part-time job at Escargo. Tracy, bounding forward with the same question on her lips. How the light in Tracy's eyes would die every time her mother came home, empty handed about the news of her son. As a mother, she could only placate her daughter with hugs and words.

There was only so much a mother could do.

Moms weren't heroes. Moms couldn't fix everything.

At night, the woman would slump against the table and rest her head against her hands. Praying for what, she didn't know. The police was their last hope. She couldn't go searching for her son, not when she had to take care of her daughter. She had already lost one child. She didn't think she could bear losing another.

"Yay, food!"

Composing herself, Ness's mom leaned over the counter. A tiny boy, about the age of an elementary school student, blinked up into her face. He was wearing a bright red cap, which swayed over his curly black hair.

"Hi," he chimed, clutching the edge of the counter on the tips of his toes. He cracked a toothy grin. Two of his tiny teeth were missing. "Do you have any burgers?"

She wanted to cry.

The chef managed a small smile. "Where are your parents?" she asked gently.

The little capped boy gave a happy kick onto the floor. His shoelaces were untied. "I dunno!"

As if on cue, a plump lady whom the chef assumed was his mother bustled into the canvas tent. Releasing a wordless exclamation, she grabbed her son by the arm. "There you are! How many times have I told you not to run off by yourself?"

"Mooom," The boy tugged on his mother's hand. "I'm hungry. Can I get a burger? Please, mom?"

"Oh, for crying out loud," The plump lady sighed, then threw Ness's mom an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry. My son gets overexcited about food-"

"That's all right," the chef said softly.

"How much for the burger?"

"Five dollars."

The little boy's eyes brightened. "Do you cook steak?"

At the incredibly familiar expression, Ness's mother couldn't resist a laugh. "Yes, I do."

"One burger would be good," the plump lady said, placing a twenty on the counter.

A few minutes of flipping patties and squirting homemade sauces together, the chef returned with the wrapped burger. Upon hearing her, the kid looked up. His eyes widened, and he leaped out of his foldable seat, tiny hands already reaching for the burger.

"Careful, it's hot," the chef said, gently tucking the warm burger into his fingers.

Grabbing the burger, the child blew into the patty, then took a huge bite. The hot aroma of food wafted into the cold air in a milky steam of white.

"Fank oo'!" the child said, mouth full of food.

His plump lady rebuked him not to talk while chewing. Abashed, boy gave another toothy grin. With a last thanks and a 'Sowwy', the plump lady led her son out of the tent. They disappeared from the food stand as quickly as they had arrived.

The chef stared out after them.

Ness had liked steak. Ness had liked burgers too, didn't he?

Oh no, don't think about that. Don't think about that...

Her arms fell to her side. The spatula dropped against the ground.

She was pathetic. She could cook food for strangers, but she couldn't find her own son. Her own son. Her precious baby boy. As far as she could remember, Ness had always been there for her after the divorce, but the one time her son needed her, she couldn't help him.

Her eyes welled up with tears. She wiped them aside with a ragged breath. It was a little early to close up shop, but she might as well start now. She couldn't work. Not when she couldn't focus. She could always make up for the lost time. She turned around to slip the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED.'

Just then, someone else sauntered in.

At the familiar set of hunched shoulders, Ness's mom felt her breath hitch. "No sign of them?" she whispered.

Flint shook his head. He wearily dropped down into a portable plastic seat. "You?"

"I'm afraid not." Ness's mother pursed her lips, then turning to the still-heating pan, cracked another egg. Runny yolk sizzled violently upon touching the heated pan. "You'll wear yourself out," she said quietly. "Go home and rest."

Flint buried his head into his hands.

Watching his hunched form, Ness's mom remembered what her son had first said about the twins.

Mom... they're just like me.

At first, she had thought he had been talking about their overlapping similarities in character. Ness did share some traits with each of the twins. Claus's hot heart. Lucas's maturity. But a nagging thought in the back of her mind told her that Ness had meant something else entirely.

All of a sudden, it made sense.

Ness had been talking about their families. The twins had a missing parent too, hadn't they?

With a clatter of a plate, a steak-filled omelet found its way onto Flint's table. Startled, Flint rose his head to survey the food, then lifted his hand to his wallet-

"Don't," Ness's mother said sternly, pointing at the dish. "It's on the house."

"I don't have time to eat. I have to find my sons-"

"Your sons need you alive and well."

Ignoring her, Flint gripped the table with rigid fingers. "I can help you close shop today," he said, rising up from his seat.

The chef stopped his path with crossed arms. "Flint, my son is missing too. Sit down and eat."

Flint couldn't argue against that logic. Resigning himself to defeat, he lowered himself back down, then picked at his food with a quiet thanks.

Ness's mom pursed her lips. "When was the last time you had a proper meal?"

"..."

She gave an exasperated noise, then sank into a chair across from him. "Flint, you are one stubborn mule."

Flint cracked a small smile. "I think that title's up for debate."

"Ai, ai, ai." Ness's mom shook her head. "No, I don't think I know anyone as stubborn as you."

"-this is how they play. Dirty. Dalaam doesn't let anyone into their walls, but we let them into ours. Look at the crime rate! This...destruction! Explosions. Mass terror. We need to protect ourselves from those communists. We need build a wall. We need to build a wall, and it has to be built quickly-"

Flint furrowed his brows.

Catching his expression, the Ness's mom soured. "Aloysius Minch," she muttered bitterly. "With all the chaos going around in the city, he's been taking advantage of everyone's fear. Pointing the finger at the Dalaamese? Ha! Imbecile."

"My wife was Dalaamese," Flint said slowly, resting his fork on his plate. "She certainly wasn't a terrorist."

"That man... ugh! Don't pay attention to him, Flint. I mean, I am too, on my great grandmother's side. Doesn't mean that I'm going to bomb Eagleland, am I? Better lock me up then. Ha!" Ness's mom furiously crossed her arms, shooting a dirty look at the television. "Doesn't Minch know? Dalaam reinforces the 'no immigration' law on its citizens too."

"What do you mean?"

"No outsider can enter Dalaam. If an inhabitant of Dalaam leaves the country, they can never return to Dalaam."

Flint paused. "I didn't know that."

Ness's mom sighed, resting her head on her arms. "Dalaam is very... strict. There is a certain secret about its people that the country doesn't want others to know. A secret that the country wishes to protect."

"Like...?"

All of a sudden, Ness's mom found the table interesting. "It's-"

The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of a ringtone. Stunned, the Ness's mom flipped open the phone. "Hello? Why yes, this is she." A startled pause. "You've caught the culprit?"

Hearing her alarmed tone, Flint lifted his head up.

"What do you mean you're closing up the investigation? My son is still missing! You can't possibly close down the investigation with nine children and an adult MIA-"

Holding her phone, Ness's mother walked out into the kitchen. The volume of her voice rose in growing anger. Concerned, Flint was about to follow her until the flickering television screen caught his eye.

"We interrupt this broadcast with LIVE news of the crime scene. The suspect of the serial kidnappings has been caught and identified as Lucky, the famous bassist of DCMC-"

Jerking his head up, Flint accidentally choked on his water. "Duster...?" he croaked in disbelief, recovering from his coughing fit.

"and has been charged on several accounts of statutory rape and child pornography. We are here at the Onett police headquarters, waiting for our man to arrive - Ah, there he is! Duster, How do you feel about these accusations? Do you claim that you are innocent?"

"What?! Yes, I-"

"Is it true that you sexually assaulted your victims?"

"No!"

"We have eyewitnesses who reported you flirting with the waitress, Kumatora, hours before her kidnapping-"

"I wasn't flirting! She's my friend!" Duster said angrily, a surprising surge of rage cracking through his usually calm demeanor. "Do I look like a criminal to you?! "

"Reportedly, you turned up at the police station with an unconscious Pokey Minch in your custody. Earlier that night, neighbors claimed seeing you with some of the missing children. Where are the missing children? And what do you have to say about the charges Aloysius Minch has pressed against you for kidnapping his son?"

"I didn't kidnap his son! Aloysius Minch was abusing him-"

"Lucas and his brother went missing in the recent weeks. Duster, how do you feel about the disappearance of your mentee? The last adult who spoke to Lucas before his disappearance was you-"

"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong man!"

Camera lights flashed everywhere. The furious babble of reporters closed in. The media was converging on the frightened man like bees swarming around honey. In the corner of the screen, some of the officers were struggling to restrain the DCMC, who were rushing forward to defend their band member.

"Listen, brah! I've known Lucky for years. He'd never assault anyone. Hell, he wouldn't even harm a fly!" OJ cried, trying to rip his arm free. "Lay off him, dudes, you're seriously starting to piss me off-"

An officer knocked him down. The screen flashed back to the reporter. "Chief Wess resigned after his son's arrest. He was unavailable for comment."

Blood roared in his ears. Flint slammed his palms down into the table. "No."

A hysterical laugh of disbelief came from the kitchen. Breathing heavily, Ness's mom stumbled back towards the table. With a choked "Thanks for calling," Ness's mom snapped off connection. Barely suppressing rage, she lowered the phone in her trembling grip.

"They're...They're closing up the case." Ness's mother laughed again, another hysterical sound. "Our sons are still missing. Can you believe it? They said that they're done because they've caught the culprit-!"

"They've got the wrong man," Flint said, his gaze cutting across her distressed form. "What did the police say?"

"Yesterday night, Lucky showed up at the station with an unconscious boy. Pokey Minch. When he was questioned about the child's suspicious injuries, Lucky directed it to parental abuse. But Minch's neighbors swore that they also saw Lucky with the younger Minch son in the neighborhood before the incident."

Flint stirred. "The younger Minch son?"

"Picky Minch. He went missing last month."

His frown deepened. "And the police believed them?"

"They have connections. The Minches were my neighbors before they moved out," Ness's mom said bitterly. "The wife is worse. Aloysius is bad enough, but the way Lardna treats her sons...it's disgusting. And with a serial kidnapper on the loose, this is the perfect excuse to cover up their crimes. One of their sons has "miraculously" gone missing and the other was found beaten half to death. Who would suspect a grieving family for domestic abuse?"

"They can't be serious."

"They are. The Minch family has already filed a testimony against your friend. Now, we have all these eyewitnesses stepping in to claim that Lucky had been coincidentally close to some of the other missing students, like that part-time waitress at Titiboo, and to..." Her voice faltered. "...your sons."

Flint clenched his fingers. "I don't believe it."

"Neither do I." Ness's mom cleared out the grill with an iron grate. She grabbed one end of the tent and flipped it up. "I smell bribery. It's a cover-up, I know it. Even if I never find my son, I'm going to make sure that he gets the justice he deserves."

"You don't believe it either?"

"I don't know about Duster, but if what you say about him is true..." She stubbornly shook her head. A hard glint lay in her eyes. "I've had my suspicions about the Minch family for a while. It's about time someone stood up to them."

Abruptly, she stalked away. Her oily apron fluttered in the wind.

Before the angry mother had taken two steps outside, Flint caught her wrist. "Your tent-"

"No time to pack."

"Let's take a minute and slow dow-"

She wrenched her wrist out of his grasp. There was a familiar fierce fire burning in her eyes: they beheld the wrath of a mother's anger, an unbridled force that destroyed all. "Don't you dare try to stop me, Flint. I'm done with wasting my time. I'm done wasting my sweet time waiting here while the police continue to play us for fools!"

She was breathing hard. Her fists stayed clenched at her sides; her eyes, wild and blazing from her outburst.

Somehow, Flint found something in himself to meet her gaze. "Both of my sons are missing," he said. His voice sounded strange in his own ears.

Ness's mom suddenly stilled. She didn't move a muscle.

Her hot temper. Her selfless sacrifice for her son.

She could have been a split double of Hinawa.

His throat closed up. He was grateful that his baritone could mask his voice in a gruff. "The police aren't going anywhere, so we'll pack up your tent, then head over to the station together."

Ness's mom fell silent. For a second, Flint thought that she was about to unleash the full glory of her motherly wrath on him, but slowly, she lifted her head.

"Flint, you wonderful man," Ness's mom suddenly said, wiping her eyes. "Do you have a ride?"

Awkwardly, Flint shook his head.

As if expecting that answer, she nodded, looking unfazed. "I thought you didn't. You always walk over to the stand. That's okay. Let's take my truck. There's some ash sprinkled over from the fryer, but we'll get there in one piece."

Just as if the day couldn't get any stranger, a honk of the horn from the sidewalk interrupted their conversation. They whirled around in the direction of the sidewalk, only to spot a car window sliding down.

"Need a ride?" a man asked nervously from the driver's seat.

Ness's mother jumped, exclaiming the stranger's name in shock. In an instant, her face had turned a frozen pale, her eyes watery as she lifted her hands to her mouth agape in an 'o'.

Stepping out of the silver Volvo, the driver sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. He was a stocky man with messy black hair. "...Hi. I was on my way from work when I heard the news. Figured you would've gotten the call too and was heading back home, but I saw you from afar and thought you looked...slightly familiar..." He glanced at Flint, then flushed, his face turning a faint pink. "Ah... Is he...?"

The two parents quickly stepped away from the other.

"Acquaintances," Flint corrected, grimly tilting his hat over his face. "She's helping me out."

"Flint's sons went missing too," she clarified to the man's confusion. "The twins," she added, and realization dawned on the driver's face.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Flint." The stranger awkwardly extended his hand. "This isn't the best of circumstances to meet, but I'm sure that we'll find our sons soon."

Flint's eyebrows creased slightly. "Our sons?"

Finally getting over her shock, Ness's mother gave a curt nod. Her face had closed off. "Flint, meet my ex-husband. Ex-husband, Flint."

Ness's father winced. "Honey-"

"Don't you honey me," she snapped, barging over to stand right in front of his face. "You've known where our son's been for the past week, and yet, you still left me in the dark!"

"Uh, well..." Shrinking under her wrath, Ness's father threw Flint a panicked look, and with a grimace, Flint gave a helpless shrug. "H-Honey, I..."

Ness's mother wasn't impressed. "You what?"

Sensing a losing battle, Ness's father slumped over. "It's a long story," he mumbled. "I'll explain on the way."

.

.

.

~oO0Oo~

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.

.

Ness's father was a gentle giant.

In contrast to his hot-tempered wife, Ness's father was a patient spirit. His broad, stocky shoulders spoke of someone who had once been in shape, a shape worn out over years of desk work. All in all, blustering and good-natured, Ness's father gave off the impression of a very friendly teddy bear.

Ness's mom pointed outside. "Turn left on this corner."

"Here?!" Ness's father said in disbelief as if she had told him to drop dead.

"No, that's Broadway Street. I'm telling you, turn left on Zin Avenue-"

"Where's that?"

"The block ahead."

"Oh. I always thought that the "I" was an "E." Like Zen Avenue."

"How do you mistake an I for an E?" Ness's mom said, exasperated.

Ness's dad shrugged, flashing her a shy grin. "Accident...?"

Turning away, Ness's mom gave a contemptuous snort.

Exiled to the backseat, Flint awkwardly listened to the whispers of the once-couple. He tried to digest what he had been told. If Ness's father hadn't been lying, all of their sons were stuck somewhere outside city boundaries. Outside in Chimaera territory. His stomach sank.

Yet, one thought gave him hope.

"PSI..." Flint muttered, remembering the strange lights he had caught underneath closed doors. Claus had claimed that they were testing a new headlight for their solar car, and Flint internally cursed himself, wondering why he had not questioned him earlier.

But psychic powers...

Was it true? Could magic really exist?

Flint shook his head. Real or not, a grown psychopath was after his children. Even worse, a psychopathic teacher from his sons' school. Flint clenched his fists, trying not to think about how many times his children had crossed paths with that...abomination.

This cleared any doubt from Duster's name. Duster had been innocent. He had been wrongfully framed.

Repressing the urge to punch something, Flint kept his hands fisted at his side. They trembled, shaking madly in withdrawal. Even over the past two weeks, his coordination had been off. His immense physical strain hadn't helped matters.

He missed his sons. Claus's tiny fingers delightfully curling up to meet his own in a childish wonder. Lucas's soft sigh escaping from his lips as he slept.

Flint squared his shoulders together.

Suddenly, the car screeched to a stop. On reflex, Flint braced himself before he could plow face-first into the seat.

"What was that-?" Ness's mom began.

"Roll the windows up," Ness's father said. His voice sounded unusually terse. "Now!"

A rabid face popped over the driver's window. The stranger was chanting something, his eyes bulging out of his face from intense emotion. "MINCH FOR PRESIDENT-!"

Swiping the gear in reverse, Ness's father slammed the accel so hard that Flint bumped his head against the hood. The car swerved in a circle, avoiding the crowd of marching people, then skidded back onto the road. Flint jerked his head up, waiting for an explanation, but Ness's father didn't say a single word until they had cleared the block.

Eventually, the engine hummed as they touched down in front of a cafe.

"Is everyone okay?" Ness's father relaxed, turning around. "Flint?"

Flint rubbed his head. "I'm fine."

Still frozen in shock, Ness's mom looked wide-eyed. "What was that?"

"We have a problem," Ness's father said, scratching the back of his head. "All roads to the station have been blocked off by mobs of Minch supporters."

"Why?" Flint said abruptly.

"I don't think that they're happy with keeping Lucky alive. They're saying things like lynch him and burn him at stake - HOLY MOLY!" Ness's father jumped in his seat. "Did you see that? That man just nicked that car with a beer bottle-"

"Unbelievable. The incompetency of the police is unbelievable!" Furious, Ness's mother smacked her palms against the arms of the seat. "Where is the head of the department when you need him?!"

"I know where Chief Wess lives," Flint said suddenly.

Both of Ness's parents turned around to face him in shock. "You do?!"

"We live in the same neighborhood. Tazmily Village. It's a bit far from here-"

"Nowhere's too far!" Ness's mother sat upright. Her eyes burned with a familiar fire. "If you know the chief in person, Flint, then that cuts us time. Lead the way."

"I can drive," Ness's father said meekly.

Ness's mom threw her ex an exasperated look, but Flint quickly placed a reassuring hand on the head of the driver's seat. "I'm recovering from withdrawal symptoms," the farmer said dryly. "You shouldn't let me drive your car."

Ness's mom gave a loud laugh at the remark. "Point taken. Well, if that's the case..." Her voice rose in disbelief. "Flint, did you walk all the way to Onett?"

"Public transportation."

"Goodness gracious. Like I said, Flint, you're as stubborn as a mule-!"

Ness's father cleared his throat. "Flint," he said, suddenly feigning interest for the windshield. "I need directions to Tazmily."

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.

~oO0Oo~

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.

.

With the lack of early afternoon traffic, traveling to Tazmily only took an hour.

Needless to say, an hour had never seemed so long before.

While both of Ness's parents were courteous people, it was clear that they did not want to speak to each other. More specifically, it was doomed to be a one-sided conversation. Every time Ness's father would nervously bring a topic up to his wife, Ness's mother would suddenly seem incredibly hard of hearing. Whatever had caused their divorce was still fresh on their minds. It left Ness's mother simmering in disapproval and Ness's father slouched over the driving wheel.

It wasn't until halfway into the trip that the issue was finally brought up.

In the middle of the empty highway, Ness's father chanced a hesitant glance towards his fuming wife. "Um...hi."

Ness's mom ignored him.

Ness's father pretended to focus on the beautiful, windswept horizon ahead. "You...work in a street food stand now?"

"Part-time job," came the disgruntled voice.

"You don't have to," he mumbled, playing with his fingers. "I send you money."

"We get by well enough without your money."

Unfazed by her reaction, Ness's father pressed her again for another response. "So, how...how are the kids?"

"Ness is missing," she said acidly.

Ness's father fidgeted in his seat. "Oh. Ah. Well...I guess there's that..." He faltered, fumbling around for something to say. "How were they? I-I mean, before he went missing..."

"It's nice to see that you finally care about your children more than your job," Ness's mother said bitterly.

Ness's father looked like he had been stabbed. Hurt, he lowered his eyes onto the steering wheel. "You didn't mean that," he said quietly.

Without saying anything, Ness's mom crossed her arms, then stared outside the window at the passing hills.

Ness's father bit his lip. "I still have it," he confessed, scratching the back of his neck. "The...The family picture. In my apartment."

Slowly, Ness's mother shifted. Her voice sounded softer. "The one from 20XX?"

"The very one."

Ness's mother cracked a small smile. "It's the wallpaper for my phone."

"Oh. Well, uh..." Ness's father trained his eyes back onto the road. "I've been thinking...When we find Ness...I'd want to-" He faltered. There was an awkward pause. "...play baseball. I owe him a game of baseball."

For some reason, Ness's mother looked disappointed. "Oh. Of course."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. To Flint's relief, they touched down at Tazmily Village in the late afternoon. There was a crunch of loose pebbles as the car shook and shuddered its way over the rocky dirt.

"Is this the house?" Ness's father whispered, eyeing the residence in high trepidation.

Flint nodded.

They parked the car by the curb.

Ness's father gave a hushed whisper. "...now what?"

With a sigh, Ness's mother gestured at the dark windows. "I don't think he's inside."

Cracking his knuckles, Flint lunged out of the car.

"F-Flint?!" Ness's father yelped. "Where are you...the what?!"

Flying up the porch, Flint noisily pounded the door with a hard fist. "Wess, I know you're in there," he growled. "Open the door."

Panting, Ness's parents caught up to him.

"F-Flint, let's try again tomorrow," Ness's father stammered, out of breath and clutching his side. "I don't think we should-"

Without so much a greeting, Flint wound up his arm and punched through the door. It splintered under his bare hands. "Wess!" he bellowed, barging in. "Explain yourself!"

"Quiet down, Flint!" Wess snapped, batting the broken door aside. "I suppose you heard the news too, huh?"

Flint lunged forward, slamming the man against the wall.

"Oh dear lord, he assaulted an officer," Ness's father said, sounding rather faint. He was about to intervene and separate the two until his ex pulled him back.

"Wait," Ness's mom said, training her eyes on the police chief.

"Where are my sons?" Flint asked in a deathly quiet voice, fingers digging into Wess's shirt collar. "There'd better be a damn good reason why you're shutting down the investigation!"

"I never issued the order!" Wess snapped, trying to twist out of his grip. "This morning, I walked into my office, and then BAM! Some stranger barges in, bags my head, then pushes me out the front door!"

Flint paused, taking in his words. "You've been usurped."

Wess scowled. "Apparently." The chief pushed him aside, and this time, Flint didn't object, releasing him. "What a warm welcome this is. Hah!"

"Chief, I believe it's a set up." Ness's mother interrupted, dragging her flustered ex over. "We heard that your son was arrested on false charges-"

"Of course he was," Wess grunted. "Because of that moron, I'd be damned if the public trusts me. No one does."

"We heard about Pokey's injuries. The Minches are trying to cover up an abuse."

At her words, Wess paused. "That's a serious accusation," he said, eyeing her grimly. "Do you have proof?"

"No, but as a former neighbor, I've seen how Lardna treats her sons-"

"Not good enough. The house was reported for two prior incidents of possible child abuse," Wess grunted, stuffing a jar of pickles into a burlap sack. "They came clear."

Ness's mom placed a hand to her forehead. "That can't be true."

"And that's where the madness lies." Wess opened his arms in sarcastic reverence. "Who would ever suspect Aloysius Minch, the Great Politician? They're calling him the New Trump these days. What horse shit. He makes Trump look like a saint."

"But Pokey... if Pokey confesses, then everything would be over."

"If only it were that easy," Wess grunted, closing the sack. "Unfortunately, Pokey refused to cooperate. I don't blame the poor kid, to be honest. As much as the kid hates his parents, I don't think he's willing to part with them either." Wess hesitated. His eyes softened. "I know you mean well, but child abuse is complicated. Younger children often thrive on their parent's attention. Even if it is abuse...they'll take it if it's the closest thing they can get to love. If the children don't want to be parted from their parents, there is little the police can do to help."

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "I see," Ness's mom said quietly.

Placing a reassuring hand on his ex's shoulder, Ness's father looked up. "Isn't there any way we can expose Aloysius Minch...? Or at the very least, protect his children?"

"Fat chance. My squadron turned against me. I'm supposed to be in a cell myself, but I managed to knock out my escort, taser the second, then made a break for it. I knew those thief skills would come in handy. You can't work for the law without knowing how the law works." Wess motioned with his hand. "No time to dawdle. I only stopped by to get some supplies."

"Are the police still after you?" Flint said, watching the windows in high alert.

"Not exactly, but there's no telling what they'll do to me if they see my face again." Wess grunted. His eyes flickered over their haggard expressions. "On behalf of the law enforcement, I apologize for giving you false hope. I thought we were above corruption. I thought that by becoming the chief, I could change a few minds...but I was wrong. Human nature is human nature." Bending over to sling a sack over his shoulder, Wess slouched under their eyes. "Flint," he said without meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry that I couldn't find your sons-"

"No!" Flint suddenly said, gripping his shoulders. "Wess, you have to help us."

Wess gave a bitter laugh. "Me? I'm a wanted man now. There's nothing I can do to help-"

"That's where you're wrong," Ness's father interrupted. A strange emotion flickered in his eyes. "Chief Wess, our sons are missing...but we haven't given up on them. Him. I believe in him. In my son." Something seemed to lodge itself in the man's throat. "I know my son, and I know that he can pull though. He can pull through, chief. All we ask for is your cooperation-"

"I can't help you."

"Chief Wess-"

"I'm a wanted man. As much as I want to help, I can't help. So don't waste your time here," Wess barked, then pointed at the door. "Leave!"

None of the parents moved.

A ripple of stubborn movement. Ness's father walked over and stood in front of him. "No," he said.

"Civilian!" Wess threw him an angry scowl. "Do you want to get arrested for treachery?"

Ness's father dropped to his knees. He sank his head into the floor.

Wess leaned away from the fallen man in disbelief. "What are you doing?!"

"I'll do anything. I'll... I'll do anything to change your mind."

"It's no use! What, do you think I can magically teleport your son back to Onett?!"

"Please, officer. You're our last hope. The police have given up. All of the search parties have given up. Every single person in the law enforcement has given up. But you... you're the only person who can save my son. And even if you can't find him... even if we were too late to save him..." Ness's father was shaking against the floor. "...if you could... if you could just help us recover his b-body, we would be eternally grateful, because Ness wanted... my son wanted..." Ness's father gave a slow, shuddering gasp, then broke down into an uncontrollable wheeze. As if every word caused him pain. As if every word was killing him in the inside. "My son wanted to return home..."

The resulting silence was profound.

Watching him bleakly, Ness's mom blinked back tears from her own eyes. Suddenly, she staggered over to her defeated husband, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He embraced her back in a sob, burying his head into the comfort of her hair. They huddled together, two parents in grieving. Two parents in mourning. After days of denial, they had finally come to accept the loss of their son.

Ness could no longer be alive.

"Chief Wess..." Ness's mother now spoke for the two of them - her husband was unable to speak, having dissolved into an incoherent mess. "Please, all we want is to give our son a proper b-b-burial..."

Slowly, Wess walked over, then crouched down onto the floor. "There's no need for all this. Get up," he said gruffly, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. An undercurrent of kindness softened his tone. "Damn it. I can't leave civilians in distress. Violates my moral code. Fine. I don't know why you would, but if you still believe in me...I can't give up, can I? Then I swear, I'll try. I won't get your hopes up, but I'll do my best. It's the least I can do as the former Chief of the Law Enforcement."

"Th-Thank you," Ness's father stammered, messy tears streaming down his face. His face fell back against the floor. "Thank you, chief...Th-Thank you..."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we get out of this mess." Wess grunted, extending a hand. He pulled the man back onto his feet.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeves with a nod, Ness's father straightened his back. "O-Of course."

Flint silently watched their exchange. The lengths at which Ness's father had gone to ask for help. The way he was willing to sacrifice anything for his son. This Flint could relate to. This Flint could understand all too well.

It was as if a strange kinship had been born.

Feeling as if he should've stepped in earlier, Flint awkwardly patted the man in the back. "Don't give up on your son," he said in a low voice.

Ness's father quietly wiped his eyes. "I don't want to...," he muttered.

Trying to clear the tight feeling inside his chest, Flint forced a cough. "Let's head elsewhere before the police decide to swarm your house, Wess."

Ness's mother stood up. "If that's the case, I know someone who can help."

.

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~oO0Oo~

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.

Another hour of travel had led the bedraggled party to Podunk Estates. The dark mansion loomed over their heads in the flickering lamplight.

By the fountain, a guard dog (Hello! My name is Mick, its tag read) sat up on its haunches, eyeing sudden guests with no little curiosity. Upon verifying their identities at the front gates, the maid escorted them through the garden. Opening the front doors, she ushered the parents into the living room, where they met an assortment of velvet chairs and plush couches, and hurried out to inform her mistress.

Carol looked relieved to see them.

Reserved and quiet, Ninten's mother was a tall woman with thin lips. Her skin was as pale as paper. Dark blond hair curled in a pair of short ringlets tucked under each ear.

"So the police arrested someone without trial, and Chief Wess is wanted for treachery. I'm not surprised." Ninten's mother pursed her lips. Haughty portraits of old relatives glowered below them from the lofty mansion walls. "Sounds like a real cop out, if I ever heard one."

"Carol, you have to understand-" Ness's mom began.

"I know. My son has psychic powers, and my adopted brother is your main suspect for the kidnappings."

Wess's eyes widened. "Giygas is your adopted brother?"

"He is," Ninten's mom said dryly. "After my son went missing, I did some digging around. It was difficult, because my grandfather burned all of his personal records in our earlier years. Giygas later forged his own passports and personal documents under several pseudonyms. He had over ten aliases in the past decade." Ninten's mother stirred her tea. "I've noticed strange things about my brother after his recent reappearance. I suspect that higher manipulation is in play."

"Sounds troublesome," Wess grunted, leaning over on his knees. "I'm guessing that PSI is involved?"

Ninten's mother gave a curt nod. Her silver earrings tinkled. "I think the same."

The conversation was interrupted as a maid shuffled in. The young maid delicately stacked the empty tea cups onto her tray. Bouncing, blond curls framed her pretty eyes lined with purple eyeliner. "More Earl Gray, Mistress?"

"We're good for now. Thank you, Electra."

With a curtsy, Electra walked out on her white stocking feet.

"Miss Carol, we apologize for asking for your aid in our investigation. It was not my intention," Wess added with a scowl. "I don't usually put civilians in the line of fire-"

"Line of fire? I think that you are exaggerating a little, Chief." Ninten's mother gave a thin, vampirish smile strikingly similar to her son's. "This mansion is sound proof, X-ray proof, bullet-proof, and physically resilient. In addition, you are in the company of one of Onett's best Defense Attorneys. I'm glad that you have included my family into your investigation. Please, make yourselves comfortable." Ninten's mother rose. "I will inform your circumstances to my husband. He is home."

"Thank you, Carol," Ness's mom said quietly.

Cold heels clicking away, they watched Carol leave in a mix of awe and terror.

In the silence that followed, Wess gripped the sides of his cup with strained fingers.

"Flint," Wess muttered into his tea. When Flint looked up, Wess wouldn't meet his eyes, pretending to train his eyes on the tapestry. "There's something I need to tell you. Last week, Duster-"

The lawyer emerged with his wife at his side.

In stark contrast with the bumbling bear that was Ness's father, Ninten's father was a thin, wiry man. His presence demanded instant attention. Dressed in a crisp suit and tie, he left an impression of professionalism. The cold intensity of his eyes was hair-raising.

Ninten's father wasn't smiling. Pulling up the cuffs of his shirt, he sat on the edge of the sofa and planted his dress shoes against the floor. "My wife has informed me of our proceedings. Before we discuss our options, there are a few points I must address. Chief, the first thing we would need to know is whether we can bail your son out of jail."

"If he can't get himself out, then that's his fault." Wess grumbled and crossed his arms. "But I suppose we have no other choice. I don't have the moola, so we'll have to find another way. That moron is hopeless, I tell you."

Ninten's father nodded. "I know what you mean. My son should have known better than to go missing himself. It speaks of his poor reasoning skills."

The temperature plummeted.

Ninten's mother slowly rested a gloved hand on her husband's arm. "We must sound so callous to you," she said quietly, training her eyes onto the floor. "But please understand it is our way of coping. With every passing day, we struggle to keep our composure. To know that my brother was responsible for these crimes...we are ashamed. We are worried. We are scared. Our son has also been missing for over two weeks, and we would do anything to have him home. Isn't that right, honey?"

Her husband's expression softened a fraction. "Carol."

She met his eyes. "I know," she whispered.

At the embarrassingly intimate moment, Ness's father coughed into his tea.

His wife thumped him in the back. "Don't ruin their moment," she hissed.

Ness's father blushed a deep crimson, then quietly fumbled for her hand. Even more surprisingly, his ex-wife seemed to suffer a loss for words. But after a moment of hesitation, she slowly squeezed his hand back. Everyone fell silent; it was clear that they were thinking of their missing sons.

Flint and Wess shared a glance.

"Don't look at me like that!" Wess snapped. "I'm not holding your hand!"

Flint only gave a deep chuckle in response, then fixed his hat. "Don't you worry, old man. The feeling is mutual."

Ness's mother rose. "It's getting late," she said. Her eyes looked strangely misty. "Tracy should be back home from school..."

"I'll drive you home," Ness's father said quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, I can drive. I parked the truck by the food stand-"

"Tomorrow's a Saturday. No work," he added. "I can drive us there in the morning to pick your truck up."

"The truck..." Ness's mom paused, caught by a stray thought. "The last bus to Tazmily would have left for the day. Flint, do you have a ride home?"

Flint blinked. The thought hadn't crossed his mind. "I can stay at a hotel," he reassured her.

"You heard the man. He's got everything under control," Ninten's father said. Flint caught the subtle shift in his tone.

This man had something against him.

"That wouldn't do," Ninten's mom said with a frown. "We have plenty of guest rooms available. If we are providing temporary housing for Chief Wess, then I don't see why we can't extend the same courtesy to another friend."

Ninten's father suddenly choked on his tea.

Now, Ninten's mother faced Flint and addressed him directly. "Ken speaks very highly of your children. They make him happy. Sometimes, I think that Ken would rather stay at school than at home..." Her eyes flickered to the windows. Her voice took on an odd sadness. "Please stay. It is the least we can do to repay your sons' kindness."

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't intrude on your hospitality," Flint repeated firmly.

Carol didn't bat an eye at the rebuttal. "All of our sons are missing. We are on the same side."

"I can stay at the hotel-"

"We insist that you stay here." Ninten's father forced a pleasant smile onto his face. "It's more convenient if all of us are located in one place. There's no point in wasting your resources if we have guest rooms available."

Reluctantly, Flint sat down.

Ness's father clumsily stood up, knocking over the table. "Well, I guess this is our cue to leave."

"We'll see you all in the morning," Ness's mom said. Her eyes softened, flickering over to Flint's direction. "I'm sorry. If we had an extra guest room, we would have offered you our place-"

Flint coughed. His cheeks burned in embarrassment. He wasn't a charity case. It was mortifying that everyone felt compelled to help him in some way, especially since it was a generosity paid to him instead of his sons. That thought didn't fit well in his head. "I'm all right."

Propping the table back up, Ness's father gave a soft chuckle under his breath. "I think we're overwhelming him. Don't worry, Flint. My wife will harass you again tomorrow."

This earned him a well-deserved smack in the arm from his scowling wife.

"What was that for?" Ness's father complained, rubbing his sore shoulder.

Ness's mother turned around with a huff. "Flint, we'll see you in the morning."

"Honey-"

"No." She stormed off.

Staring after his ex, Ness's father rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I'm working on it," he said.

Reaching up, Ninten's father gave the bigger man an awkward pat on the back. "It's not easy."

"Everything will turn okay, one way or another," Ness's dad said. He seemed hopeful.

As if on cue, Ness's mom reappeared into the room. She looked a little flustered. "I-I can't find my way out."

Hiding a small smile, Carol rose. "I'll show you to the door-"

"Carol, you are a lifesaver." Ness's mom clasped her friend's hands. "Please. If there is anything we can do to help you and your family, just say the word-"

"Don't mention it. We're all in this together," Carol said softly. "Are you sure that you two don't want to spend the night? Our hospitality isn't limited exclusively to Flint-"

The lawyer's lips tightened at the corners.

Ness's dad waved her offer off. "Oh, no, we shouldn't. Tracy's at home." On his way out, Ness's father suddenly stopped in front of the lawyer. The business man lowered his voice, but Flint managed to catch his quiet words. "Don't be rude."

The lawyer's expression rapidly turned sour. Stony-faced and tight-lipped, he sat, refusing to say a single word.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Ness's father drew on his coat and followed suit after his wife.

As the three parents left the room exchanging pleasantries and gratitude, Ninten's father stiffly jerked his head. "Chief Wess, let us discuss our options in my office. We are not too late to help our sons."

"Of course," Wess said gruffly, rising from the couch. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The lawyer's voice turned surprisingly warm. "You've helped me prove many of my clients innocent. Their lives have changed for the better." The lawyer smoothed out the wrist cuffs of his shirt. "I'm only repaying the favor. You are our best hope in finding our sons."

Wess scowled and looked down into his tea cup. "Blast! That reminds me. About the missing children...I have something to say. It's-"

"One moment," Ninten's father interrupted. His eyes shifted over to Flint. His expression hardened. "We can continue talking in my office."

The two Tazmily men shared a confused glance.

Wess gave a grunt. "Flint deserves to know-"

Ninten's father rose. "We will sort it out in my office," he repeated. There was a slight edge in his voice.

"I want to hear what Wess has to say," Flint said firmly, meeting his eyes head on.

Ignoring him, the lawyer walked past. "Chief Wess, if you can follow me-"

Flint caught his arm.

Ninten's father looked at him in unveiled disgust. "Can I help you?"

"What do you have against me?" Flint said quietly.

There was an awkward pause.

Ninten's father studied Flint as if seeing him for the first time. He pulled his arm free from the loose grip. "Chief Wess, please wait in my office. I will join you shortly," he said without breaking eye contact.

Wess threw Flint an uneasy glance. He seemed unwilling to leave them alone, but Flint sent him a silent look. Catching his drift, Wess reluctantly disappeared into a corridor, leaving the two men to face each other alone.

Ninten's father pressed his lips into a hard line. His eyes hardened. "Your name is... Flint."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

The lawyer didn't look amused by the response. His upper lip curled in distaste. "I will make one thing clear, Flint. We are allies. We are not friends."

Unfazed, Flint met his steady gaze. "You're right. It is impolite of me to stay here when I have other options for lodging."

The staring contest intensified.

Ninten's father gave him a careful look. "What are you doing?"

"I don't have time for this." Flint clenched his fingers. "I'm looking for my sons. You are too. What's your problem?"

The temperature plummeted.

Ninten's father closed his eyes. "I've studied law for years. I've cracked many cases in the past. Horrible ones. Some of which I wish I could forget. But there's one thing I've learned... I can tell when people are lying." Ninten's father opened his eyes. They glowed a bright amber around his dark pupils. "Forgive me if I don't take kindly to child abuse."

Something about his blunt accusation caught Flint off-guard. Disbelief colored his tone. "You think that I abuse my children."

Ninten's father twisted his lips into a hard line. "Your sons show obvious signs of parental neglect," he said. His eyes flickered down to Flint's shaking hands. "But is it neglect... or abuse? You have trouble with coordination. Withdrawal symptoms, I suspect. In addition, my son has told me some interesting things about your family. Things that could be used against you in court." He pressed his lips into a tight smile. "Be careful, Flint. I'd hate for you to lose custody of your sons."

Flint clenched his fists against the sinking pit in his stomach. "I don't abuse my sons."

"I hope you don't." A hard edge had entered the lawyer's tone. "My son has more than enough distractions at school. He's been getting ideas lately. Rebellious ideas from your sons and their upbringing-"

"If you have a problem with me, then don't insult my sons!" Flint suddenly snarled. His voice deepened into a dangerous baritone. "Your son is clearly seeking attention, because you don't give him enough. So don't blame my sons for your own incompetency-"

"My own incompetency? Don't make me laugh." The lawyer's eyes flashed. They looked dark red in the twilight. "Your family is a bad influence. Stay away from my son."

The curtains dropped over the windows.

On that dramatic note, Ninten's father shouldered past him.

.

.

.

~oO0Oo~

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.

.

Stuck inside the mansion without much choice, Flint found himself drifting into thought. Unlike Ness's parents, Ninten's parents were emotionally conserved. They weren't difficult to read, but rather, difficult to understand.

On an unrelated note, for such a huge mansion, there seemed to be little staff. Aside from Electra, Flint had yet to spot anyone else.

Flint didn't know what to make of the maid. Electra was a quaint person. It seemed impossible to tell how old the maid really was; she possessed youthful eyes and features that reminded him of an ageless statue. Not one for conversation, Flint let his eyes drift over the family portraits on the walls.

The biggest one caught his eye.

A boy, no older than fifteen, was staring at the artist. His eyes, dark with pride, were the same amber shade as his father's. Pointed ears and a vampirish grin lent a bright air of mischief in his pale features.

Ken, the inscription below read.

Flint halted in his tracks. The boy looked vaguely familiar.

"Master Ken is the son of my current mistress," Electra said, and Flint started with a jolt. He had not noticed her presence. Covering up his surprise with a cough, Flint lowered the brim of his hat. He took a longer look at the portrait.

Certain things began to jump out from beneath the shadows. The boy's unhealthy complexion. The hollow dip in his sallow cheeks. The glassy texture of his dull eyes. A hidden bitterness twisting his lips. How the boy's shoulders were hunched together, as if bracing himself against a heavy weight.

Upon closer look, the boy looked... unhappy.

"What work does his father do?" Flint said, filled with a sudden desire to sate his curiosity.

Electra blinked. "The Mister is the head of the Monotoli Law Firm. Long ago in his early years, the Mister earned the title when he cracked open the case of Gerdegarde Monotoli. When the Mister exposed him for corruption, Monotoli stepped down. The people of Fourside are forever in his debt."

Flint flashed back to his unpleasant encounter with the cold lawyer. The humanitarian description didn't match up with the man who had threatened him.

Beside him, Electra quietly observed the portrait.

Flint shifted in place. "I have a feeling that your employer doesn't like me," he said carefully.

Keeping her eyes on the portrait, Electra chose her words with equal care. "The Mister does not dislike people without reason."

As an employee, she was unable to speak ill of the family. She was probably sworn to secrecy.

Flint's shoulders sagged.

As if catching the motion, Electra looked straight into his face. Her eyes lost a little bit of their statuesque apathy. "Mr. Flint, if I dare say so myself... you do not strike me as a cruel man. I did not mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but I was also surprised by the Mister's sudden hostility. Please, do not take the words of the Mister to heart..." Electra lowered her eyes. "Our family is going through hard times. The Mister is worried. Master Ken has been suffering from a terrible chronic illness-"

"Electra."

With a gasp, the maid turned around. Her face paled. "Mistress!"

"I can show Flint to the guest bedrooms. Kindly tend to my husband's affairs."

Ashamed, Electra bowed her head. "Of course, mistress," she murmured. Without meeting Flint's face, she hurried away, averting her eyes.

Admittedly guilty for causing the maid trouble, Flint fingered the rim of hat. "It wasn't her fault. I was asking her questions."

"I don't intend on punishing her. Electra is excellent at her job." Carol cracked a vampirish smile. "However, she has been sworn to secrecy about our private affairs."

In response, Flint said nothing, willing to leave the conversation there, but the graceful woman had caught sight of her son's portrait. Her eyes flickered with an unusual emotion. "Claus... Is that your eldest son?"

"Older twin," Flint said gruffly.

"Ginger hair?"

"Yes."

She fell silent. Her features looked wistful. "I would like to meet him one day." With those words, Ninten's mother turned away from her son's portrait. She walked down the hallway, then pushed open one of the doors. "I hope you find our guest room comfortable."

The room was magnificent. Ornate glass windows gaped from the edge of the ceiling. A King-size bed carved out of Mahogany wood rested against the maroon carpet. Delicate symbols were etched inside the wood in decoration. The dim chandelier lights glowed, waiting for full release on the flick of a switch.

It was different from the simplicity of Tazmily Village. The room was embellished with a luxury that even Yado Inn couldn't compare.

Something about that thought struck an odd chord inside him.

"Is the room not to your liking?" Ninten's mom asked. "Because we conduct business here, we have many guest bedrooms available-"

"No, this is perfect." Flint glanced back, feeling strangely helpless. "But I would like to help with the investigation-"

"We are not intentionally keeping you in the dark. My husband is currently discussing our options with Chief Wess. They'll keep us updated in the morning. As of now, there is nothing either of us can do."

Flint closed his mouth. As much as he hated sitting around not looking for his sons, there was a point to her words. There really was nothing left to do but wait. Moreover, Ness's parents had gone home for the night. They would be sure to stop by tomorrow for the next course of action.

A cell phone rang. Ninten's mom straightened up. She looked tired. "It seems like I have some unfinished business to attend to. If there is anything else you need, please, feel free to ask Electra. She'll be happy to help you."

Flint awkwardly thanked her.

And as Carol walked away in a busy click of high heels, Flint wondered if this was just a normal day in young Ken's life.

Author's Note:

Arggh so sorry for the two month wait! After all that exam cram, I missed writing like the dickens.

Can't believe that I've written this fic for over two years... and it's still not finished. GOSH DARN IT THIS FIC WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FINISHED 15 CHAPTERS AGO AGGH

I'll try to have Chapter 37 up as soon as I can.

Merry Christmas Eve. :)

Guest: Ninten making a math pun is the best pun. ;) Gotta love that math haha

Shimo no ko: As I began to develop Giygas's character, I surprised myself. He shows symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome. Giygas has a hard time with eye contact at points. He taps his fingers. There's little rhymatic ticks, or eye flickering that he does a lot more often than other characters. It surprised me much more than it should have, but strangely enough, it fits with his character. He's alien to other people around him, and is shunned by other people in society. A fitting image, I think, for a Human Giygas.

Connor: It's okay. I don't mind long reviews, and I'm sure it applies vice-versa. Plus math is good. :) I'll get to reviewing Ceres today! And your uncle did math on how penguins huddle? YOUR UNCLE IS GIYGAS, CONFIRMED. Haha, jk. And yeah, I really felt compelled to add in the smell of popcorn. Dunno why. It's something I notice at all the other fairs as a kid.

DarkFoxKit: You got it. I love this story because it has the potential to make so many unexpected twists. Takes people along for the ride. :) Ahhh thank you~ I will so my best to impress (heh that slang rhyme). Hashtag thuglife.

Anon: Dude. DUDE. WHAT THE HECK haha wow talk about a deep analysis! I'm impressed. :) Oh no, sore fingers? Thank you, first off, for writing such a dedicated review. I love it when my reviewers decide to analyze this story, and LOVE IT MORE WHEN THEY CRITICIZE ME. I want to improve, and concerning your points, I will do my best to address each one. First off, I agree that my first chapter is weak. My first chapters PLURAL are weak. My writing is widely inconsistent before chapter 30, and every time I force myself to read these chapters, I want to cry. Good thing we have an editing tool, right? ;) On the topic of Giygas, I have heard thy prayers, and did my best to make Chapters 9 and 10 sound somewhat passable to his current character. Because let's face it, Giygas did sound like a "generic asshole teacher." Man, I love your quotes. They made me laugh like crazy. Honest to god, I loved your play on words. XD As for my first chapter...no worries. I gotchu. I'm still thinking about how to make it sound less like a bad face-to-palm anime. Not there yet, but still thinking. As awful as it sounds, the first chapter starts off like that for a reason. I'm not making major spoilers, but the conclusion (I have as of now) will make an echo to the beginning. But to clarify, the final scene of this story will not end with a predictable "Ness, Ninten, Lucas, Claus go back to school." Come on, we all know that's overused. I'm not going down that route. ;) Heh, nobody knows if this will end as a tragedy or as a happy story. Who knows? Could be both. Or either.

Thank you very much for your love on the characters. :) Your'e right. Ness does seems kinda...there. Like just chillin' there compared to all the other protags. I agree he's kind of hard to describe. Being a generic Momma's boy and all. I know a lot of people like to write Ness as a rebellious teen, but in my eyes, I write him as a sweet kid. A little idealistic, perhaps, but it complements Lucas's maturity and balances out Claus and Ninten on the other end of the goodie-two-shoes spectrum. Ness completes the four-protag-wheel, and he creates balance as a rational, loyal leader.

This story has a lot of room to improve, but I'm so happy that you enjoy it very much. :) I'm constantly trying to improve this story, because it's the only story I've ever felt compelled to care enough about, and I'm glad it shone through. :) And I dunno if you'll read this giant ass response, but you didn't have a PM, so this was the only way I could explain everything. TO MY OTHER REVIEWERS WHO READ THIS: PLEASE DON'T BE SAD I LOVE YOUR REVIEWS TOO I SWEAR I'M NOT PLAYING FAVORITES AHHH

Guest: Thank you so much! Means a lot to me that this is your favorite fanfic. Aahhh improvement is always great. ^_^ And omg haha you're that guest who called Fassad a female dog? BRILLIANT! XD

PSIBoy jk not really: Again, PSIBoy, it's okay. Life happens. :) Feel free to review at your own pace. Or rather, review whenever you feel like it! As much as I love reviews, writing reviews shouldn't be an obligation. I FORBID IT TO BE AN OBLIGATION. I mean, dude, I update like one a month if I'm lucky. Or two months. I can't really hold all my reviewers to that standard if I'm busy all the time too, right? ;) And I don't mind if your review's short. :) Honestly, I love your reviews because they're like a second eye. You aren't afraid to voice if anything sounds OoC, and you're quick to point out any irregularities in the plot. So yeah, not having anything to say/pick out is actually a good thing. It means that my stuff makes sense. Yaaay XD

Guest: Dude, this scientific review had the best timing ever. Legit read this two hours before my Biology Final. XD I'm guessing that you played the Earthbound/Mother games, because I'm reading over your review and seeing you pick out all these PP items (heh PP). And no, that's an interesting question you posed - you're not overthinking, I promise! It's difficult to quantify, because this story isn't an RPG, but I would agree that Ninten's study practice has increased his "PP." PSI is easier to use with better focus. But while studying has arguably increased Ninten's "PP" reserves, I would say that there is second psychological reason involved. Learning how to overcome his personal struggles helped Ninten clear out his mind. It's difficult to focus when you're constantly distracted by your own inferiority. :) Hope this helps!