The Sibyl

I'm not a puppet…

I'm not a puppet…

"I'm not—"

"Stop mumbling to yourself," scolded her strict mother, interrupting her personal mantra. "You should be getting ready for the recital." Though she acted more like a manager than a mother. And of course her father was nowhere to be seen. With his busy work schedule, he had more important things to do than go to his only daughter's dance recital.

I'm not your puppet.

Sometimes, she wondered why her parents had her at all. It seemed she was only good for making them look good, or more specifically, her mother. Like her skill and success weren't from of all those months of relentless training, but from the inherent talent that was bestowed upon by her two "loving" parents. But they all knew that was a lie.

The truth was her talents were purely her own. Her body was flexible and lithe, almost unnaturally so, and her parents had nothing to do with it. In fact, they were the most ungraceful, maladroit people she ever met. She adamantly believed she was adopted; she had absolutely nothing in common with them, and they weren't the most doting of parents.

The only talent these people, particularly her mother (again, her father could care less about these sort of events) seemed to possess was the incredible ability to deceive people into thinking she actually cared about her. The sickeningly sweet smiles, the genial facades—it was all a sham, and people were stupid enough to fall for it. And as much as she hated to admit it, her mother was terribly good at appealing the masses. People who talked to her mother had no choice but to believe what she said. If she spoke against her mother, no one would turn their heads and she was later punished for speaking out of turn. As crafty as her mother's lies were, she was the only one who knew what the hag truly thought. She was the only one who knew what anyone truly thought of her.

I'm not her puppet.

Once her leotard was on and her makeup was done, her mother pulled her along to join the other girls. Although most of them were preparing for the show, their neutral expressions indicating concentration, she could hear their derisive thoughts as they passed by.

Oh, it's her.

Why am I not surprised?

And could she be wearing anymore makeup?

Skank!

"Stop dragging your feet!" her mother hissed.

Stupid girl. She may be able to dance, but once she's off stage she's as clumsy and useless as the rest of them.

"I'm not useless."

Her mother stopped, and her grip loosened. "What was that?"

She paused as well. Did she just…?

She couldn't help noticing the way her mother's hand shook and the slightly alarmed look on her face. She took advantage of this moment and snatched her wrist from her mother's loosened grip. "I didn't say anything, Mother." As she walked away from her startled mother, a shrewd smile stretched across her lips.

"Nice was acting pretty weird when he left."

"I know. It's not like him to take sketchy jobs by himself."

"And it offered so much money, too. Greedy bastard…"

"You should talk."

"What are you talking about? You know if I take a sketchy job it's only for the…" Birthday stopped abruptly, causing his white coat friend to bump into him. Just as he was about to scold the carrot top, Ratio was pulled behind a trashcan. "Oi," he hissed, "look over there."

Ratio followed his gaze and couldn't help rolling his eyes. It was a girl, her vibrant red hair standing out among other things. She was small, a bit taller than Honey, and she appeared to have the same waistline as well. With nothing but a skin-tight jacket, tiny leather shorts, and stockings that flourished her lean legs, she was the perfect victim of Birthday's ineffectively charismatic devices ("ineffective" being the operative word).

"I wouldn't if I were you," Ratio advised. He got up from the ground when he noticed some heads turning their way.

"What?" Birthday shrugged innocently. He was still kneeling behind the trashcan, not wanting to risk getting caught by the redhead. "I was just going to introduce myself, maybe even invite her for coffee. No harm in that."

Ratio shook his head. Birthday's intentions were anything but harmless. Though her attire made her appear small and helpless, the look on the redhead's face suggested otherwise. He could see sharp vigilance in her unusually amber eyes. They looked around the shopping district, watching out for possible predators. Her limbs were taut with tension, ready for anything that would dare sneak up on her. Even without taking off his eye patch, Ratio could tell in spite of her petite body she was strong enough to defend herself. He wouldn't have been surprised if she felt his perverted friend gawking at her right now.

"Oi, who are they?" Birthday sneered. Three guys suddenly came up to her, probably spewing pickup lines as mediocre as anything Birthday could come up with, and the results were just the same. The girl tried to walk away, but the thugs continued to swarm her. "Well, I can see where this is going." Birthday stretched his arms as if he were getting ready for a workout.

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Huh? What are you—hey! Let go of me!"

The young doctor dragged his horny friend away. "We have no time for you to fool around. That girl can take care of herself."

"Hey, hey, hey. Where do you think you're going?"

Scarlet rolled her eyes. There was no doubt men were the most stubborn species on the planet, not to mention the most thick-headed, so these guys were going to be in for a real world of hurt if they didn't take the hint and back off. They didn't seem to have a problem causing a scene, attracting a decent crowd of gawkers and whisperers who weren't very subtle. As much as her fists ached to teach these brutes a lesson in manners, she'd rather not do anything to attract more attention, not to mention she had a menacing headache. She couldn't have been more relieved when someone intervened.

"Is there a problem here?"

As soon as the officer flashed his badge, the three troublemakers ran off, and the crowd dispersed shortly afterward.

"I could have taken them, you know."

"I know," he replied, noting the umbrella in her hand. "But I also know how much you hate attention."

She shoved her free hand in her pocket indignantly. It was true she hated being the center of attention, but she hated being treated like a damsel in distress even more. "What are you doing here, Art?"

He lifted up a bag of groceries. "Police officers have to eat, too, Scarlet."

Her expression softened when she saw the dark circles under his eyes. "It looks like you've been hard at work. Are you okay?"

Art smiled, though it looked like it took a lot of effort to put up such a content façade. "I'm fine, and I'm really glad I ran into you." His tired expression didn't change, but his tone turned more somber. "Let's take a walk, shall we?" Scarlet nodded and followed in step next to the superintendent.

"This doesn't happen to be about work, does it?"

The tired look on the young man's face turned a little guilty. "Unfortunately…"

"Art…" she groaned. "Why don't you ask your friends from that one private investigation agency? I bumped into that one boy you used to hang out with a lot—Nice, right?" She took his silence as an affirmative answer. "He's supposed to be a genius, isn't he? Wouldn't he be better for the job?"

"I don't want him involved in this particular case. Besides, you're more suited for this job." Scarlet couldn't help noticing the edge in his tone when Nice was brought up. It wasn't unusual for Art to ask for her help, but seeing as the police department was associated with the Minimum Agency, she kept her involvement to a minimum (no pun intended) and only took jobs that kept her in clandestine. Leaving Hamatora out of it, or rather, just leaving Nice out of it, was so unlike the lilac-haired officer, but then again, he was never really thrilled whenever he stuck his nose in police affairs. Perhaps they weren't getting along too well right now or something. Whatever the case, if Art was keeping Hamatora in the dark, it had to be for a good reason, so he would be completely reliant on her. And it was practically impossible for her to deny a request from Art…

"Alright, I'll help. But if anyone from Hamatora gets involved—"

"I'll make sure they never find out about you," Art confirmed. "The last thing I want is to put you in danger, Scarlet."

She blushed. "S-Says the guy who keeps dragging me into police investigations." A niggling feeling tingled in the back of her mind, and she clutched her head as another ongoing wave of pain flushed through her mind.

Art reached out in concern. "Scarlet?"

"I'm okay…" She turned away from him. She never liked displaying weakness in front of anyone, especially not Art. As she looked away, she noticed some movement a few yards behind them. Realizing what these little tingles meant, she cursed. "We're going to have to discuss your investigation later. There's something I've gotta go take care of…"

She knew. Her mother knew what she was capable of. And she feared her.

Their roles were switched now, and she had her mother in the palm of her hand. No more "Stand still!" or "Stop that mumbling!" or having to act ladylike. For the first time in her life, she got to pick out what she wanted to wear, she was able to have fun—she even got to skip one of her rehearsals!—and it was great being able to make choices for herself for once. And the best part was her mother couldn't do a thing about it. Who would believe her daughter could read her thoughts, anyway?

Her father was none the wiser: always at work, always busy with something or other whenever he was home, his mind always on something else, but never had his thoughts ever been about his only daughter, his only child.

Why don't you look at me?

I'm your only daughter.

Look at me.

Is it because you wanted a son? Aren't I enough?

Look at me… Look at me… Please, just…

"Look at me!"

The first time she snuck into her father's head, she didn't get the reaction she expected. He simply looked at her from across the dinner table before turning back to his paper. It seemed no matter what she did, she would never be able to draw her father's attention, not even if she were suddenly able to pick up his chair and throw it, along with him in it, out the window. However, that didn't seem to be the case.

The next day, her father personally took her to the Minimum Agency and never left her side. It was the first time they ever did anything together. They weren't alone, but—ignoring the people in the white coats and the ridiculous contraptions they hooked her up to—her father was there every step of the way.

It turned out she was a Minimum Holder, which explained her sudden "minor miracle". She didn't know what they intended to do with her afterwards, but according to the proud expression her father's face, it had to be something great; rarely anything impressed her father enough to cause him to express any sort of emotion besides apathy. Now that she had her father's attention, she was going to relish every bit of it.

Little did she know that would be the last time she would see her father or mother ever again.

Parting with Art, Scarlet took a detour through an alleyway. Her stalkers were quick to follow, and she wasn't surprised to see that they were the punks from earlier. They should've known better; what right-minded person would walk into an alley by themselves?

"Well, well, well. What happened to your cop buddy, little girl?"

"Looks like this one will be easy, boss."

"Yeah, just look at her. She's not even struggling."

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Not feeling so tough without your cop friend?"

Scarlet was pretty even-tempered when it came to mundane things and, depending on first impressions, got along with most people. Others, like these misfortune thugs, drew the short end of the stick. The more they talked, the more it fired her up.

"Oi! Are you deaf? Answer when I'm talking to—"

With his hand mere inches from her shoulder, Scarlet took the opportunity to catch the leader off-guard and twisted his wrist with a snap! The pompadour cradled his broken wrist, crying out in agony. "Y-You bitch…!" He ran at her with his other fists, but it was a shoddy effort. As soon as his hand came forward, she grabbed his uninjured wrist and swung him over her shoulder. He landed on the ground in a heap, unconscious. His cronies quivered in fear as they watched their boss get his ass handed to him.

She smirked in satisfaction as she cracked her knuckles. Violence was usually a last resort, but fear made it easier for her to use her Minimum; once they let their guard down, their minds were an open book. After a moment of rifling through their scrambled thoughts, she sneered at them.

"Pathetic," she spat. "You really thought you could kidnap me? Who even told you guys I was a Minimum Holder?"

"What the hell are you talking about, lady?" one of them cried.

She grabbed the bigger of the two by his shirt and pulled him up so they were face-to-face. "I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen. Unless you want me to delve a little further into that shithole you call a brain and mess you up worse than that the douchebag you call your leader, you'll tell me about those kids you took, now!"

"We don't know anything, we swear! He promised us—"

"Who promised you what?" she hissed.

He flinched. "W-We've never actually seen the guy's face. One day he just came to us and promised us money. All we had to do was get the kids. Once we drop them off, we don't know where they go—but that's it! We don't know anything else!"

She snarled at him before releasing him, and he fell onto the ground into a sniveling heap. Once his buddy helped him up, they ran away, leaving their boss defenseless. Scarlet walked out thirty seconds later, also sans boss. She'd decided to let the authorities deal with him.

"Why didn't you tell me the kids getting abducted were Minimum Holders?"

"I figured you'd be able to find out on your own. You can read minds, after all."

"You know I don't like using my Minimum, Art."

After finding their hideout, Scarlet called the police and informed about the two thugs and whereabouts of their boss. It turned out there was only one child—the rest, she assumed, were most likely taken away by the mysterious stranger who hired those thugs in the first place—which made her even more sympathetic about the situation. This child was alone, and her abilities had been activated under such unfortunate circumstances. Knowing her cohort had deliberately withheld this vital piece of information from her made her extremely livid.

His gaze was steady under the harsh scrutiny of the fiery redhead seated in front of his desk. "I had a feeling you would act this way. I know how you feel about this sort of thing, Scarlet; when you get upset, you get quite… unpredictable."

"I can control myself just fine!" She stood up angrily and slammed her hands on the desktop. "Why the hell did you ask for my help if you had a 'feeling' I would react this way, anyway? It would've just been simpler if you just told me about the Minimum Holder kids so we wouldn't end up having pointless arguments like we always do! I may be able to read minds, but damn it, Art, why can't you ever just tell me these things?!" Studying his expression once more, Scarlet came to a conclusion. "This is about Nice, isn't it? Why you didn't ask him for help, why you wanted to keep this whole case confidential to all members of Hamatora."

"It has nothing to do with them," was Art's simple reply. "But I don't see why you don't just go out of your way to meet them yourself. I know you have your reasons, but—"

"It's not that simple."

"So you keep saying. And yet whenever I try to help you avoid them, you insist on complaining about it. As far as I can tell, nothing's stopping you from talking to them on your own time. It's obviously become some sort of obsession."

"I'm not obsessed! And when did this suddenly become about me?" Scarlet pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily through her nostrils. "This is exactly what I was talking about. How many times have we had this argument?"

The lilac-haired young man smiled fondly. "Too many." It was not unusual for their arguments to spiral back towards the topic of Hamatora. Scarlet had never met any of the members of the extremely small private investigation agency, but Art could tell she was curious about them. If she really did want to meet them, he knew she could've done it on her own by now. Something, or rather someone, was stopping her from doing so, and he had his suspicions about who it might be. Whatever the reason, he was glad she hadn't met them. The last thing he wanted was for Scarlet to be involved in Nice's hijinks.

"Despite what you may think," Art continued calmly, "I'm doing this to protect you, Scarlet. The less you know, the less involved you'll be with the Minimum Agency. I know how important it is you stay off their radar, and it's important to me, too." He could tell from the slightly guilty expression on her face that she hadn't realized that, and it somewhat hurtful to know she didn't think he was completely on her side.

Crossing her arms resolutely, Scarlet sighed once more. "Where is she going now?" she asked, referring to the Minimum child she found.

"Back to her family," Art replied. "Because she's an unregistered Minimum Holder from a wealthy family, she will most likely be sent to Facultas." He watched in amusement as her glare returned. "I know you don't like it, but it isn't up to me. My only job is to find the kids and return them to their families."

Scarlet huffed angrily. She clearly hadn't gotten over her dislike of the Minimum academy. "I know, but it's still sucks." Her amber eyes narrowed as she suddenly became pensive. There were more kids out there, more Minimum Holders who were yet to discover their potential. Knowing there was someone out there hiring lowlifes like the ones who cornered her earlier that day and later in the alley to kidnap those children, she wanted nothing more than to find the guy and turn him in herself, but not before teaching him a lesson or two.

Scarlet had nothing further to say on the matter, and with that, she headed for the door. "Next time I see you, you better look fully rested." Even though her tone was scolding, she held a playful smile on her lips.

Art returned it with a gentle grin of his own. "Knowing that girl will be reunited with her family safe and sound because of you, I think I can rest easy tonight."

"Yeah, me too." Nodding her goodbye, Scarlet left the superintendent's office, the door clicking softly once it shut.

Once she was gone Art sighed, looking over the police report that summarized the Minimum child's search and rescue. Thanks to Scarlet, she was first to have been rescued, but it was a Pyrrhic victory considering the dozens of other missing cases that had yet to be solved. He anticipated Hamatora getting involved one way or another, which made him grimace. But he as long as he got to spend time with Scarlet, he would endure.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

Her lackadaisical gaze turned towards the friendly voice of the boy who decided to grace her with his presence. Several months at Facultas Academy and no one was courageous enough to willingly approach her. Even in a school full of kids as unique as herself, she was still the odd one out. So she had to wonder, why on Earth would one of the smartest kids in this Academy want to sit next to her?

He took the seat beside her before she could utter a response and smiled fondly at her as if they were old friends.

"I'm Art." She was certain everybody knew who he was considering that he was a renowned prodigy, but he must've felt the need to introduce himself since she was so reluctant to speak. And as he continued to look at her with those soft violet eyes, she almost felt compelled to give him her name. It was hard to believe that someone was actually trying to initiate a conversation with her let alone want to know her name.

When she didn't respond, he turned away from her, his smile fading a bit. A lump of guilt rose in her throat seeing those beautiful amethysts lose a bit of luster. After a hesitant second, the lump came out as a small sigh. "I… Scarlet."

The boy known as Art turned his head back to her slightly as if he was uncertain he had heard anything at all. She quickly turned her head so he wouldn't see the blush that shined as brightly as her hair. After a moment, when she was sure he had once again turned away, she turned back to face the front, a tiny grin gracing her lovely countenance. Next to her, the lilac boy held a matching smile, his mind solely filled with thoughts about the mysterious girl named Scarlet.