Years ago...

Prof. Harlan Wade sat in the small waiting room of the orphanage. He looked around at the colorfully painted walls, at the framed drawings that could only have been drawn by children. There was even a bowl of candy at the receptionist's desk, although the woman behind it was busy on her computer. Harlan reckoned that the cheery atmosphere was intentionally blaring, meant to draw in and soothe whatever young, wayward souls came wandering through the doors. He wondered if the rest of the orphanage maintained that merrily youthful aesthetic, and if it would help Alma-

"It won't."

Harlan glanced down at the little girl sitting next to her, the child he'd given over to science and discovery, who could now read his thoughts a moment before they were fully formed. His own daughter. He'd done his best to clean herself up. Her hair was combed, her red dress was cleaned, and her shoes were brand new. Her expression, however, was as morose as it had always been. She hadn't once looked up from the tiny music box clutched in her hands, the one object she'd been allowed to bring with her, though he'd heard the tune enough times to forbid her from playing it in his presence.

Harlan leaned sideways toward his daughter, who seemed to curl a little bit over the box. "Alma, I'll be leaving you here for a while. It'll be good of you to spend time with children your age. Maybe it'll change your mood. Maybe it'll help you forget some of the...sessions."

"Will you be coming back for me?"

Harlan blinked in surprise. Alma wasn't usually this quick to respond. But then again, given the subject matter…"Yes, Alma."

Her tiny fingers tightened their grip on the carved wooden box, "Then I'll never forget."

Harlan regarded the creature he'd sired, "Alma, I trust you'll behave yourself while I'm away. We'll be monitoring your behavior, and making sure you don't cause any more problems. In the meantime, try and socialize. Make some friends, if you can."

"How do I do that?" This whole time, his daughter's voice had barely been above a whisper, yet somehow it carried. Harlan began to wonder if Alma was beginning to learn how to manipulate sound waves. He made a note to look into it later.

"Find someone with similar interests," he said, then looked up as a door opened, "Ah, you must be Okabe."

A short, middle-aged woman with black hair wrapped in a bun stepped out of the room. "Yes, I am. Harlan Wade, I presume?"

"Yes," replied Harlan, as he stood up from his seat. He took Alma's arm, making her stand up, as well, "We spoke over the phone. This is my daughter, Alma."

"Ah, Alma!" Okabe got down on one knee to be level with Alma, "It's good to finally meet you! My name is Okabe, and I'm the one who runs things here."

Alma looked at Okabe with a doll-like expression, and said nothing. Okabe couldn't help but feel a little perturbed by what she was seeing. The girl, from a distance, looked normal enough, but up close, she couldn't help but notice how dull her skin was, and the unnatural color of her eyes. She'd never met a child with eyes like that.

"Alma's a bit of a shy one," said Harlan with a cheeriness that was more manufactured than sincere, "But I'm sure she'll adjust once she's met some of the children here."

"Oh, I'm sure she will!" said Okabe, "We look after all of the children here, so I can assure you, Alma will be quite safe!"

"I'm sure of it," said Harlan, "Also, I can assure you that the language barrier won't be too much of a problem. Alma has shown to be quite the apt pupil when it comes to learning new words." He did not bother that Alma had learned her native tongue mainly by reading the thoughts of those around her, which provided a far greater depth than reading pages in a book. Whenever she heard a word, she would hear the meaning behind it as well, an intangible sense of what that word was. This enabled Alma to start speaking sentences when she was six months old, a feat most children couldn't do until they were three times that age. It had been one of the first shocking signs that there was something special about the newest member of the Wade family.

"Mind if I say goodbye to my daughter before she goes with you?" asked Harlan promptly. Before Okabe could reply, Harlan had taken Alma by the arm once more, and led her away. He did not get down on one knee, as Okabe had done, but stared down at his daughter intently, "Alma, look at me."

Alma did as her father instructed.

"Behave yourself," he said, "Or it's back to the lab."

Alma squeezed her eyes shut at the mention of that last word.

"Regardless, we will have to pick you up now and then for check-ups and the occasional test. All fairly routine. For now, though, you'll be safe with Okabe."

"She doesn't like me."

"Give her some time, Alma. Give this whole place time. You'll warm up to it eventually. Just remember, it'll be better than the alternative."

Alma looked around the colorful room, frowning deeply, but nodded.

"Very good, Alma. I'll be back in several months." Harlan gave Okabe a courteous nod, and walked out the glass doors of the building. He did not look back at his daughter as he left. Alma watched him go, then turned expectantly toward Okabe, who was studying her latest ward with a curious interest.

"Right then, Alma," said Okabe. Now that Harlan was gone, her tone seemed to be slightly less warm, but only slightly, "Come with me, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the children."

Alma didn't reply, and Okabe was already getting a feeling that this girl was going to be a hopeless case.

Just like our other recluse, she thought.

Harlan walked out into the cool morning air, getting into the Honda Civic he'd parked in front of the orphanage. He revved up the engine, and drove off down the wooded road. After about ten minutes, the trees on the left side of the road became barred from the roadway by a razor wire fence. A few minutes of driving later and the fencing came to an electronically powered gate with a red light, and a security camera set up next to it. The technology stood out in stark contrast to the nature surrounding it. Even the concrete road seemed old fashioned by comparison. Harlan pulled up in front of the gate and waited for the camera to do its job. After a brief moment, the red light turned green, the automated gate slid open, and Harlan drove up the dirt road.

Pretty soon, he arrived at a small, unassuming shed. Harlan got out of his car and opened the shed, a complicated process which involved a key and a keypad. Once the door was open, Harlan calmly strolled down the long flight of stairs, illuminated only by the soft lights above him. He soon arrived at a small hallway, leading up to another door, this one much bigger than the door he'd entered from outside. A pair of guards flanked either side, sporting body armor and automatic rifles. They both regarded Harlan as he passed them by without a word, opening the door to a room that was far above their pay grade. Inside, several men and women sat at two rows of monitoring stations, looking through security cameras that were set up throughout the orphanage. At the front of the room, giant monitors were stacked on several rows, showing live feed of young kids at class, playing outside, or simply hanging out by themselves. Harlan walked down the stairs in the center.

"Focus footage on Alma," he said. All the monitors switched feed, each screen becoming part of a larger image of Alma and Okabe walking down a hall toward the student bedrooms. Harlan crossed his arms and watched.

It had taken a lot of work to set this whole thing up. The orphanage, as well as the land surrounding it, had been purchased a year ago by a company called Nakamura Investments, a corporation that had no other active businesses or assets. The paper trail was well covered, but if one knew where to look, then it would become evident that Nakamura Investments, of which Harlan Wade was president, was owned by Armacham Corporation. Excavation had begun on the same day as the purchase, with backhoes and bulldozers waiting on standby. After the surveillance station had been finished, the security system had been installed, adding new cameras throughout the orphanage.

All this for one little girl, and Harlan had the dreadful suspicion that they'd need more.

Alma stood in the cafeteria, holding a dull blue tray of food. She'd kept to herself in the few hours she'd been here, quietly listening to her music box. Now, she'd been called up by Ms. Okabe for lunch, and as much as Alma would have liked to have just stayed in bed, but could only ignore her growling stomach for so long. So she'd gotten up, dutifully waited for the lunch lady to give her her food. Now she stood there, looking for someplace to eat. All of the tables seemed crowded with kids, kids who gave her weird looks every time their eyes wandered near her. She knew they didn't like her. She was new to them, she didn't look like them, she made them uncomfortable. There was one table that seemed relatively empty. Only one girl sat there, pointlessly picking at her food. Hopefully she wouldn't give her a hard time.

Lucy sat at her table, the only one of her kind. She'd had little appetite today, as per usual, and felt that today would be like any other: teasing, torment, and troubled sleep. Perhaps Tomoo would get bored with her again, and pick on somebody else for a change. His overall eagerness to cause her torment had its dry spells, as he'd sometimes get caught up showing off to his cronies. She could also hide if-

-thunk-

Lucy looked up from her meal when she heard an unusual sound: Somebody else setting their tray down on her lonely table. Looking up, she saw a young girl around her age, with long black hair, yellow eyes, and a plain red dress. Her features looked different overall from the other kids. Lucy reckoned that she must be a foreigner. She'd never met a foreigner before. She gave Lucy a brief glance before she began to quietly eat her sandwich. Lucy was honestly unsure of how to respond. There had been one or two times when some nervous kid would come speak to her, but if the negative stigma that Tomoo instilled didn't send them away, then her horns surely would. But this girl didn't look like she was going anywhere. After a tense moment Lucy spoke.

"Hi," Just one word, but it made Lucy's face turn bright red. She wasn't very social.

"Hi," replied the girl casually, and Lucy's red face went even redder. The girl across from her wasn't ogling her horns like everyone else did. Not yet, at least.

"My name is Lucy," she paused, "I mean, that's the name the people here gave me. Nobody knows my original name."

"Alma."

"Huh?"

"My name is Alma."

"Oh," Lucy looked at the girl that she now knew as Alma. Her voice seemed real quiet, like a whisper, but she could clearly hear every word that she said. It was eerie, but not discomforting.

"I like your horns," said Alma. Her sudden compliment made Lucy drop her fork in surprise. It had been the first time anyone spoke positively about her horns, and truly meant it. Even the teachers were hesitant to say anything good about them, "D-do you mean that?"

Alma was still focused on her food, but nodded her head, "Yeah."

Lucy suddenly felt her day get a little brighter. She looked at Alma, eager for something kind to say about her. Her eyes darted down to Alma's tray, where she noticed a small, wooden box. "What's that?"

"My music box."

"It plays music?"

"Yes."

"Can I hear it?"

For the first time, Alma looked up from her meal, yellow eyes searching Lucy's pink ones. Lucy's gaze showed honest curiosity, as did her thoughts. Alma picked up the box, turned the crank on the side, and set it back down, opening the lid while turning the box to face Lucy. Lucy leaned forward, squinting at the tiny photo that was printed on the inside of the lid. She had time to see a field, as well as what looked like an old dead tree, before the music caught her attention. The music that came from the box was haunting. It made Lucy feel all manner of strange emotions, but foremost was a...longing of some kind, though she didn't know what. It was eerie, yet strangely beautiful, like an acquired taste.

"I like it," she said, "I-it's a nice melody."

Alma glanced at her again, and nodded slowly. Lucy suddenly realized that despite her sullen behavior, this new girl felt just as nervous as she did. Maybe talking more would help.

"What's that photo on the box?"

"My quiet place."

"Huh? ...Oh, is that a swing?"

"Yes."

"So, you would spend time there when you needed to get away from the pain?"

"...Yes," Alma seemed surprised by how accurate that was.

"Where is it?"

"Fairport."

"What?"

"America."

"Oh."

"Mm."

"So...you're an American?"

"Yes."

"I've never been to America before. What's it like?"

"I don't know."

Lucy frowned, "How do you not know what your own home was like?"

"I wasn't allowed outside a lot."

"Ah...I understand that."

"..."

"..."

"...Can I touch your horns?"

Lucy was completely taken aback, "What?!"

"Your horns. Can I touch them?"

Lucy went rigid in her chair. There had been a few times when some of the other kids had asked, but she'd always refused. Some kids, especially Tomoo, would usually skip pleasantries and grab them by force. Still, this girl had shared her music box, and had even sat at her table, something that had never happened before. Nodding her horned head, Lucy bent forward, within touching distance of the girl across from her. Alma reached a hand forward, and began to gently touch one of her bones, tiny fingers feeling about. Lucy could feel all of it. Though her head was bowed, she could see Alma's expression. Her yellow eyes were shining with a curious sense of wonder. No fear, and no disgust.

"They're...nice."

Lucy couldn't help but look up at Alma sharply, moving her horns away from Alma's grasp. "You mean that?"

Alma nodded her head, looking a bit surprised by the reaction.

"Thank you," said Lucy, "Really, I mean that."

She smiled, and to her surprise, Alma smiled back.

"Well, well," mused Harlan as he studied Alma and Lucy interacting through the video feed, "First day, and Alma's already made a new friend." And what a friend, indeed, he thought as he regarded the pinkette's horns, "What do we know of this newcomer?"

A woman sitting at a station began typing at her computer, pulling up records of the children at the orphanage, finally finding the one she was looking for.

"Not much, sir," she replied, "She was found naked in a field 40 miles west of here when she was an infant. Spent a few years in an infant care facility, then was transferred here. Other than the horns and hair color, there doesn't appear to be anything unusual about her. Records show the orphanage gave her her name."

"A Japanese orphanage gave her a western name?" asked Harlan.

The woman shrugged, "Perhaps they like old American sitcoms."

Harlan ignored the joke and continued watching the two girls talking. He hadn't expected Alma to make any friends, although at this point, it was too soon to tell how close they'd be. It could just be a passing interest on Lucy's end, but Harlan wasn't entirely certain. In any case, he'd try and keep an eye on Lucy: her anatomy was too strange to pass off.

Personal notes of Superintendent Okabe, recovered by Armacham after the incident.

Subject: New girl

I'm quite intrigued to see that Alma and Lucy have begun to become more social with one another, with both girls taking an almost instant liking to one another. It seems as though the adage of birds of a feather bears some weight after all. At any rate, it is nice for Lucy to have finally made a friend, and for the new girl to find someone as well. Hopefully their positive relationship will continue.

The events regarding Alma's stay are quite perplexing. It's rare to have a parent drop their child off at an orphanage, not to mention counter-intuitive. Unfortunately, the decision was beyond my jurisdiction, and though I'm ashamed to admit it, the money was too good to pass up. There are less people willing to invest in orphans than I'd like to admit, at least out here.

A week later, the orphanage seemed unchanged. Children were playing outside with each other, ignoring the cloudy weather that was circling above. Theleaves of the surrounding trees were changing color, sporting many shades of red and orange. On a nearby swing set, Alma and Lucy were sitting next to each other. Whereas most kids would engage in the traditional rhythmic back-and-forth motions of swinging, the two girls were content to sit and watch the other children go about their usual activities. The two girls had stuck close to each other since their first meeting, and took whatever time they could to sit near each other, making small talk.

"So you can read my mind, Alma?"

"Yes."

"Alright...What am I thinking about?"

"The mango ice cream we had yesterday."

"Oh, wow! Okay, okay, what am I thinking of now?"

"A dream you had last night. You dreamed that you were being chased by a monster of some kind, but the monster looked exactly like you."

Lucy needed a moment to comprehend this startling revelation about her new friend. The other children continued playing as she processed all of this, "Woah...that's...that's incredible."

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I have a hard time shutting down all the bad thoughts around me."

"Oh...Do I give you bad thoughts, Alma?"

"No...yours are more sad than anything."

"...Oh."

"But I don't mind."

"Why not?"

"My own thoughts are sad, too."

Lucy didn't know what to say about this, and kept silent. Eventually, Alma spoke up.

"Tomoo is coming over here."

Lucy looked up, and let out a sad sigh, "Yeah, I see him…...What is he thinking?"

"Bad thoughts."

"With Tomoo, there aren't any other kind."

The two girls sat and watched as Tomoo walked up to them purposefully, a smug smirk etched onto his face.

"So," he said, stopping in front of the two girls. Malicious eyes turned toward Alma, "You must be the new kid. Your eyes look weird!"

Lucy wondered if Tomoo was referring to Alma's yellow eyes, or their western features. She was the only foreigner in the orphanage, and had attracted many a weird stare. Although, now that Lucy thought of it, initial reactions between the orphans and Alma had differed from herself. Whereas some children might approach Lucy with curiosity before quickly turning away, nobody had bothered approaching Alma at all. The children had shunned her, as if there were some subconscious taboo about the strange American. Even Tomoo and his cronies had kept their distance for a time, but it seemed as though that had now boiled over. Maybe Tomoo was worried about his reputation as the school bully. In any event, he was here now.

"Hey, loser," he leered at Alma, "What are you doing hanging out with a freak like this?"

Alma didn't say anything. Her head was lowered, causing her hair to drape over her face like a curtain.

"Aw, what's the matter?" said Tomoo, his voice dripping with fake sincerity, "Did I hurt your feelings?"

Lucy opened her mouth in protest, but stopped when she felt herself starting to sweat. It was as though the temperature had jumped thirty degrees in the past couple of seconds. Wincing slightly, Lucy realized that the steel chains of the swings were beginning to heat up in her hands. She let go of them, looking around with worry. Tomoo seemed to be affected as well, and was already wiping his brow.

"Hey, what is this?" he asked, sounding more panicked than he wished to. Alma didn't respond. She kept staring at the ground, imagining how satisfying it would feel to burn-

"Behave yourself, or it's back to the lab."

Alma winced, as though she'd been stung by an ugly hornet. The heat cleared up almost immediately, returning the temperature to a cool September day.

"Huh?" Lucy looked around from her swing, momentarily forgetting about Tomoo, "The weather changed. That was weird."

Tomoo was momentarily shaken as well, but hearing the voice of a lesser helped clear his shock, "What does it matter? It's just a heatwave, freak!"

The boy then quickly reached down, gripped a leather seat in each hand, and yanked upward, pulling the swings up from beneath Alma and Lucy. The two girls tumbled to the ground, and the playground mulch crunched beneath their weight. By this point, a few of the other children had paused in their activities, and were watching with a mixture of curiosity, as well as relief, knowing that they would not have to be the ones to endure Tomoo's cruelty at this moment.

"HA! That'll show you, freaks!" laughed Tomoo. He began jumping from side to side, arms raised in a personal victory dance of some kind.

"What are you doing?" Alma's voice caused Tomoo to pause in his revelry. This was the first time he'd heard her speak. He looked down at Alma, who'd propped herself up on her knees, and was glaring at him with yellow hate, "You dance like a monkey that needs to use the bathroom."

This was perhaps the loudest silence that Lucy had ever heard. The few children who'd been listening all gaped in shock. Tomoo was caught off guard, and gaped as well. Alma could sense Tomoo's shock blanket over his mind, but she could also detect a small amount of anger as well, like a lit match being set against one of the blanket's corners, and sure enough, that fire was already spreading. She could see it in his mind, as well as in his reddening face.

*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!*

The bell had sounded, alerting the children that recess was at an end. The teacher stepped out, casting an eye over her charges to make sure they all came back inside. Tomoo let out a squawk in surprise as the blaring alarm ripped him out of his emotional haze. For a moment, Lucy still felt that he might attack them. He clearly wanted to, and she had no idea how such actions might affect local weather. After a moment, Tomoo simply turned with a scoff and walked off, shoulders hunched and head lowered. Lucy got up from the ground, watching Tomoo leave.

"That was incredible," she said. She looked down at Alma, "I've never seen anyon…...Alma, why are you crying?"

Alma, who had curled back up on the ground, did not look up when Lucy spoke, "Because it never ends."

"What doesn't?"

"The torment, the harassment, the people who do what they want to you," her eyes stared past Lucy, at the security camera across the playground, "They'll never let me go."

Lucy gazed down at her with soft, understanding eyes, "I get it Alma. I've been bullied as well. They mock my horns, and my hair, and the fact that I'm alone...but girls like us don't have to be alone, Alma. Friends stick with each other."

Alma's sobbing stopped. She looked up at Lucy with wide yellow eyes.

"Friends?" She spoke the word with a sense of curiosity and caution, as though this word were some strange new phenomenon that she dared not take seriously, yet Lucy's face and mind both showed sincerity.

"Yeah," Lucy smiled, "I think you're great Alma. You have cool abilities. We talk, we hang out all the time, and we have each other's backs. We're friends, Alma. Best friends."

Alma was speechless. She'd never had anyone say such warm words with such true sincerity. Lucy offered her hand, and Alma took it. As she was pulled up to her feet, Alma felt something in her melt, giving way to a warmth that she didn't even know she'd feel. She lunged at Lucy, wrapping her arms around her as she sobbed heavily onto her shoulder. Lucy, though caught off guard, allowed Alma this moment to vent, knowing that this was needed. She hugged Alma, and smiled sadly.

Okabe watched the two girls from a distance. She'd give them one more minute, and intervene then. It was important to appreciate a moment between friends.

I decided to have Lucy gain her name at the orphanage instead of the institute. She had to be called something while she was there. I'm glad to have finally gotten to the origin story. Thanks for reading!