(A/N: I found out recently and to my complete shock that the phrase "micro-oxygen" actually means something. Err… so just pretend that it doesn't, all right? The micro-oxygen featured here is entirely fictitious.)

"I'm glad you're all here," Mr. Ogawa addressed a tight cluster of students in a University lab. He was average of height and slight of build, with a narrow face topped by bluish black hair and dominated by a long, slender nose, the perch of pair of trendy eyeglasses. He gestured towards a tank full of huge, sluggish fish. "It's important that you all see this demonstration, and it's pretty expensive."

Yomi shifted to get a better view. She felt absurdly uncomfortable amid the college students, even though one would have been hard-pressed to pick her out from them. Mr. Ogawa had selected a few of his High School students that he thought would have something to offer, and Yomi had been too intrigued by his sales pitch to pass it up. Though this exercise was merely extra-curricular, he had broadly hinted that their grades would get a little bump upwards where he had clout.

"We are going to be working with a substance called Micro-Oxygen, which is a truly stupid name, but we're stuck with it. Does anybody here know anything about it?" Nobody did, but that didn't surprise him. "Micro-oxygen, first off, is extremely dangerous. It was a key component of Dr. Serizawa's Oxygen Destroyer, the weapon that was used to kill the first Godzilla in 1954… now, the micro-oxygen you'll be handling is inert and comparatively safe, but it's important that you know what nasty stuff this really is."

He took a packet from the table at his side and mounted a step-ladder next to the aquarium. Yomi was suddenly overcome by a sort of unpleasant thrill, the nervous sensation you get when the characters in a horror movie stick their heads into the scary cave, or when your rollercoaster car crests a steep drop and you really wished you were on solid land. None of the other students seemed to feel the way she did, though, so she put on a cool face and waited to see what would happen next.

Plink-plip! Two tablets fell from the packet into the aquarium and started to bubble like alka-seltzer. Mr. Ogawa withdrew an eye-dropper and held it over the water, not dramatically, but with supreme gravity. "I'm going to activate the Micro-Oxygen. Pay careful attention… and, uh, you might want to brace yourself."

He squeezed a single clear drop into the mass of fizz that was growing amid the fish and stepped back down. Students pressed in around the aquarium as it filled with a murky gray fog and bubbled fiercely. Yomi, however, hung back, and so didn't have to go anywhere when her compatriots lurched back, yelling and gagging at the sight of fishbones clattering against the aquarium walls and slowly dissolving.

"So, needless to say, I'll want you all to be very careful."

"Are you doing all right, Chiyo?" Mr. Mihama greeted, full of concern. "You look tired."

"I'm fine, thanks." Chiyo sat down across the kitchen table from him, studiously looking to the ceiling until he had adequately hidden whatever he was working on. She used to think it odd that he brought Top Secret documents home to look at, but offhand, she couldn't think of a safer place. "We got our grade sheets yesterday."

"Ah," Yasuhiro said without interest. He already knew what Chiyo's would show.

"Everybody gets so anxious around this time," she continued. "It makes school very uncomfortable… I just wish that they could just see that a bad semester isn't the end of the world."

"That's easy to say for the girl who never has a bad semester and doesn't have to depend on her grades in any case." Yasuhiro punched her arm gently. "Don't worry about 'em. School is a meritocracy, after all. The ones that work hard will get good grades."

"I don't know… do you remember Ms. Osaka?"

"She the hyper one?"

"No, that's Ms. Tomo."

"Oh, that girl with the shoulder-length brown hair, right? The one you're always helping with school work?"

"Yes. Yeah, I worry about her sometimes… hers is the sort of intelligence that you can't gauge on a standardized test. I don't think the curriculum was designed with people like her in mind."

"Well, with your help she'll do fine. Besides, there are many organizations that need a few sideways thinkers to shake things up, Mihama Industries included. School might not have a place for her, but the world will, I'm certain."

"Mm." Her father didn't quite have a grasp on Osaka's situation, but there was no reason to disillusion him. "And Ms. Yomi didn't do as well as she was hoping either, because of her special program at the University." Chiyo brightened. "She's been working with micro-oxygen, did you know? Her group's actually at the forefront the field! Isn't it exciting?"

"Micro-oxygen? Holy crap!" Yasuhiro's head snapped up and he completely forgot about the proprietary documents before him. Chiyo politely turned her head so she couldn't see them. "Who's the maniac that has kids mucking around with that stuff?"

"It's Mr. Ogawa, he…"

"Ogawa?"

"Er, yes, he…"

"I didn't know you had a Mr.… I mean," he covered the documents again. "What… is it he does?"

But it was too late. Chiyo had recognized his near-panic at hearing "micro-oxygen" and "Ogawa" in such proximity, and connections were already forming in her astounding brain. She thought back over all the times she'd caught her father playing at corporate espionage, image after image shooting before her mind's keen eye.

She remembered a particularly jarring incident when her father had forgotten to turn off the speaker phone, and she overheard a conversation with a fellow from something called SSS9 that had threatened her… come to think of it, his voice…

His voice.

"Father, could you please hand me the phone?"

He did so. She dialed quickly and waited anxiously as it rang. "Hello? Hi, Yomi. Are you going to that lab function with Mr. Ogawa? … Don't. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you.… Listen, he's dangerous, he… Ms. Yomi!" There was a brief pause. "I'm sorry, Ms. Yomi, it's just… you won't? Thank you… yes, I'll tell you as soon as I can, sorry… I'll be seeing you, then? I'm sorry… good-bye." She hung up and sat silently for a few seconds.

Mr. Mihama twiddled his fingers. "You know, Ogawa is a pretty common name…" The phone bounced off of his nose.

"You… unspeakable... moron!" Chiyo grated, visibly struggling to come up with the insults. A clinical part of Yasuhiro's mind noted that her chewing-out technique needed a lot of work. "I can't believe you! I've… I've been going to school with a… terrorist kingpin! You didn't see fit to even tell me his name?"

"Now listen, it would only be more dangerous if you knew who the head of…"

"A simple 'this guy could try to hurt you' would have been more than sufficient!" she snapped, "All these… all these dangerous games you're playing, and I didn't say anything because I trusted you to keep my friends and I safe! But then I find out…!

"Be reasonable, Chiyo!"

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to be reasonable?" she yelled, pointing to herself. "My God! One of my best friends has been going off and playing with micro-oxygen alongside a terrorist that has it in for you for months! Any moment, he could've just… shoved her into the tank or something, and it would've been an accident, and my friend would be dead!"

"But he couldn't…"

"I wondered why he was showing such an interest in her! I'll tell you why, because if he'd taken me, it would have been far too obvious! You're… you're playing pachinko with our lives, you… unbearable… loathsome…SOD!" Suddenly, her wrath fled and the prodigy turned away heavily. "Sorry… if you need me, I'll be sulking in my room."

But as she started to leave, her father stood. "Chiyo," he said.

She stopped. It would have been a lie to say that Chiyo-chan wasn't occasionally spoiled and doted upon, for it came with the territory of having a well-off family and being so shockingly adorable. However, her father was careful to make certain she knew that while his universe revolved around her, the universe did not, and there were times that his will became as merciless and impregnable as a glacier. This was one such time.

"Sit down," he commanded, voice hard. She did so. "Now hear me out. This is exactly why I never told you anything. I wanted you to grow up with as near a semblance to a normal, happy childhood as I could manage. I didn't want you to have to worry about international terrorist cabals, chemical weapons or hundred-meter-tall monsters, even if I was stuck in it up to my neck…"

"But… but he…!"

"Listen. Ogawa talks a big game, but he's a coward. He wouldn't dare do anything to hurt you or even your friends." Yasuhiro put his hand on top of hers; she didn't respond. "I'll check out your teacher… if he is the same Ogawa, he won't keep his job."

A long, tense silence followed.

"I… think I'll go get ready for the trip tomorrow."

"Atta girl. And don't worry about Ogawa or anything else… it'll all be taken care of."

By sheerest coincidence, the Man from SSS9 was having a good diabolical laugh at that very moment, though the Mihamas were far from his mind. It was amazing how menacing he could be whilst enjoying a rerun of Tokyo Breakfast.

"It's been so boring since you were gone!" Tomo whined as they entered the Mizuhara residence. "Kagura's never been home, Sandra doesn't answer her phone, Andr—er, Sakaki's even more of a stiff than usual and Kaori…" there was a brief flicker of emotion that was as close as she ever came to embarrassment. "Well, she never liked me much anyway, huh?"

Yomi glanced her friend over. Curious… she was as scared as any of them, but it was practically impossible to tell from her bearing. Tomo was a strange case; her one frail defense was to be completely invincible, if that made any sense. "What've you been doing, then?"

"Ah, hanging out with Kiyoshi mainly. He was full of annoying questions, but I sorted him out!" She socked her open hand. "After that he was pretty good company."

Unlikely; Kiyoshi was about Yomi's height, and the boy was a few kilos heavier in spite of lacking a chivalrous bone in his body. However, she realized that it would do no good to dispute Tomo's account. "Are you okay, Osaka?"

"Huh?" Osaka glanced up as if surprised to find herself in Yomi's house.

"Yeah, she's fine," Tomo said, slapping her shoulder, then leaping back from her squeak of pain. "Shit! The collarbone! S-sorry!"

"S'okay," Osaka whimpered.

"Tomo, you moron!" Yomi barked.

"Oh… damn, I…" Tomo floundered, unused to feeling remorse. "Osaka, I…"

"Least ya didn't… slug me in the solar plexus…" she straightened painfully, then patted Tomo's arm. "It's all good." She then immediately gave lie to her words by shuddering again and disappearing towards the back of the house.

"But-!" Tomo started.

"I'm thinking something good and heavy for lunch," Mrs. Mizuhara said, already in the kitchen. This was typical; at the slightest hint of teenaged angst, she would retreat to safety and only interact with the girls through food and general motherliness, however misplaced. "Does chicken and alfredo sound good?"

"Sure, fine," Yomi said without really listening. Unfortunate--she hated alfredo. "Thanks." The best friends had a fierce stare-down, which ended when Tomo took a hesitant step after Osaka. "No, I think you've done enough," the Bespectacled One said harshly.

Tomo blinked. "Well then what the hell are you staring at me for?"

There followed a vicious but entirely silent slap-fight, wherein Tomo pressed past her foe in the narrow hall and pushed off of her towards the back door. Yomi turned away and shook her head, then yelped when Tomo rushed back and gave her one last smack in the ear. "I win!" she chirped, then shot out the back.

Yomi pressed her thumb and forefinger into her eyes and sighed. "Hedgehog's dilemma, eh?"

The Takinator was wonderfully energized by her victory over her hated rival, and happily skipped through the house until she reached the backyard, whereupon she stopped cold in sudden trepidation. She was now in a situation where she had to think about her next move, which for Tomo was right up there with flight and heat vision.

The Mizuhara residence's backyard was small and hemmed in by a tall, opaque board-on-board fence. A single, wide-limbed tree stood at its center, casting its benevolent shadow over an old swinging bench, where Osaka sat heavily and stared into space. It was… it was that bloody look about her again!

While she was reckless, thoughtless and generally pretty selfish, Tomo didn't really want to hurt anyone. It was fun to watch her friends suffer the everyday torments of urban adolescent life and laugh at them for it, but she didn't really want them to… you know… suffer. Fortunately, they were a resilient bunch, and Tomo was generally free to crash about heedlessly, confident that the worst she'd do wouldn't hurt any of them (except perhaps Kagura in those weird, vulnerable moments of hers.)

But here's the thing: there were (thankfully rare) times when Osaka seemed horribly fragile, as if the slightest tap would make her shatter like a china doll. At such times, she avoided home and often ended up taking refuge at Tomo's, heaven alone knowing why she chose that place. Tomo simply didn't know what to do with a friend that she couldn't beat up, call names or throw things at.

It only became worse the previous fall, when Osaka had picked up that freaky egg and fallen ill. Offhand, Tomo couldn't think of a more unpleasant experience than helplessly watching her waste away; it was a good thing she'd managed to get shotgun on that trip or the others might have seen how uneasy she was.

Swallowing her nerves, Tomo set out heroically and sat down next to Osaka. "Um… hey," she greeted stupidly. It'd been mere minutes since they parted ways, but she couldn't think of another way to start.

"Heya," she replied emotionlessly.

"Are you… really okay?"

"Yep."

"Because, uh… Yomi thinks… I mean, I… well, that is…"

"T-Tomo?"

Tomo had heard that particular broken note in a voice exactly three times in her life, once from herself. She turned slowly towards the Space Cadet, meeting her huge, dark, trembling eyes, and felt a sensation similar to that which a rabbit must experience as its eyes meet the headlights of an oncoming semi. All at once, Osaka fell into her and went to pieces.

"Um… uh…" was all she managed as the smaller girl shook with silent sobs, almost in time with the cadence in Tomo's head: ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit! The dreaded tap had come, it seemed, and so she had shattered. "W-what…?"

"It was like she was dead!" Osaka choked, "She was… dead, her hands were all limp and cold, an' those damn monitors wouldn't stop beepin' and her face was all pale an' there was nothin'… nothin' I could…"

This unfroze Tomo at least enough to allow her to put her arms around the Space Cadet awkwardly. "Hey, it'll…"

"Those vines, those goddamn stickers, they pumped her full of… an'… I tried, t'help, he came, he even came t'help an' it didn't do nothin'! I didn't even get t'see 'im! He was right there, I was lookin' right at him, an'… I couldn't…"

"Who…?"

"It's all so pointless!" The exclamation was sharp, clear, and totally devoid of accent, and after it flew out, Osaka collapsed utterly against Tomo, long, shallow breaths her only movement. Tomo groped for something to say, but nothing, not even the moronic, thoughtless things that usually spouted forth without effort, came to mind.

That's odd, Tomo noticed dully, it's the early afternoon but it seems dark out. Wonder why? Of course, the sun was as bright as ever, and her personal pool of shadow was invisible.

Yomi paced back and forth a bit, listening to noodles boiling for the hated alfredo. The incessant bubbling made her think unwillingly of Ogawa's micro-oxygen demonstration, which in turn made her think of Chiyo's mysterious request that she not go to the lab again, which in turn made her think of the prodigy's current state…

"Ugh!" She shook her head sharply and started towards the living room, where she endeavored, almost successfully, to lose herself in a book. It was a nice little adventure set in the Edo period, starring a deliciously tragic samurai doomed to die if he did what he knew he must. That sort of thing was a lot more fun when it happened to fictitious characters.

"It's ready!" Mrs. Mizuhara called, bustling into the living room and finding only her daughter. "Where are your friends?"

"Good question," Yomi replied, clapping the book shut and losing her place. "They're probably out back; I'll go and get 'em."

Sure enough, her friends were in the backyard, but nowhere near the position she thought she'd find them in. Tomo was sprawled back in the swinging bench, heels dug in to the ground to arrest its rocking. Osaka was curled up next to her, arms about Tomo's waist, head resting on her chest, expression peaceful but streaked with tears. For her part, the Takinator's expression was very distant, subdued, and decidedly un-Tomo-like as she gazed into the sky and stroked Osaka's hair gently.

"You're still out here?" Yomi asked.

"No, we're on Neptune," Tomo replied. She was shooting for biting sarcasm, but it just plain didn't come out. "She fell asleep and now I can't move."

Yomi almost chuckled at the thought of anyone using Tomo as a pillow. As well put your head on a geyser. "She looks comfortable."

Tomo shot her a nasty look, followed almost immediately by a look that, with wonderful eloquence, asked, Why me?

"I don't know why," Yomi sat down next to her and started them rocking a little. Osaka murmured something in her sleep, but neither caught it. "I'd have to say you're probably the least nurturing person I know, except maybe…" she considered. "No, I can't think of anyone else. I have no idea why she came to you of all people, but then, that's Osaka for you."

Tomo gave a small, twisted smile. "Yeah."

Distantly, they heard the clatter of the table being set.

"Say Yomi, I know I'm not that easy to live with…"

"I know you know," Yomi interrupted with good humor, "You brag about it all the time."

"Yeah, well," Tomo said modestly. She rested her chin on the top of Osaka's head. "Why is it that you put up with me, anyway? There were all these times you were yelling at me and I thought 'this is it, I've done it this time, she'll never want to speak to me again' but it never happened."

Yomi's jaw dropped. She held her breath and waited a few seconds for the universe to end. When, after her shock faded, no pigs flew overhead, hell failed to freeze over, and the universe didn't implode after all, she decided it might be safe to answer. This was definitely, positively, absolutely the last thing she ever expected to hear. "Well…"

"She's drooling on me," Tomo added irrelevantly.

"I think I figured out why Osaka called it the Hedgehog's dilemma. At first I couldn't figure out why she used that particular illustration for us, but I've got it now: as hedgehogs, the closer we get, the more we hurt each other, right? But now that we're as close as we can go, how much do you suppose it would hurt if we tried to pull our spines back out?"

Tomo stared blankly. "Huh?"

"Never mind," Yomi smiled and ruffled her hair. Tomo flinched a bit, half-expecting the pigs to take flight again. "I'll bring some food out for you, okay?"

"Then hurry up! I'm starving!"

As Osaka drew her first breath of the cool, salty air, she knew that she was in trouble. Smooth pebbles dug into her bare feet and a dark blue dress swirled about her in the breeze. Distantly, she heard a seabird go, "Gaw, gaw, gaw!"

"Ayumu Kasuga!" two very familiar and unwelcome voices hailed over the gentle rush of waves. She turned and saw the Shobijin on a low ridge a few meters inland. Now, she couldn't quite remember which one was the nice one, but the one on her right looked pretty happy and she didn't take that as a good sign.

"Oh, screw this," Osaka moved to pinch her arm.

"Wait!" Lefty (or Osaka's Righty) cried, throwing a hand towards her. "Don't go! Don't you want to see your son?"

"Of course I don't--!" Osaka almost awoke for shock. "What?"

(A/N: Okay… I think that got all of the Osakangst out of my system…)