Emma arrived at the machine shop Giovanni and Ayumi worked in to find both of them entertaining a guest. Emma's nomenclator indicated that the woman was Dr. Wuyi Hang, one of the many researchers in Zeus Research Institute, and probably the same Dr. Hang that Ayumi had been complaining about.

"Ah, you must be Emma!" said Dr. Hang, waving Emma over to where she had accosted Ayumi at a workbench strewn with tools. "Here, have a brownie!"

Emma looked askance at Ayumi and was met by an embarrassed smile.

"I accidentally mentioned your name when Dr. Hang called me the day you got your dress fitted," Ayumi texted, looking away to fiddle awkwardly with a hex driver. "And, uh, that you'd come back from Samsara."

"It's fine," Emma texted back, quickly assuming her standard Magical Girl Smile and accepting a brownie. Out loud, she said: "Thank you Dr. Hang. It looks delicious."

"How are things going, Emma?" Dr. Hang asked as Emma picked up a brownie. "Ayumi tells me you just got back from Samsara."

"That's correct," said Emma. She bit into the brownie and made an appreciative noise. "This is very good."

"Thank you! It's my personal recipe."

"Are brownies very difficult to make?"

"No, not at all, I could show you sometime?"

Emma considered. "Maybe."

"Well here, what does your schedule look like?" Dr. Hang asked, projecting a hologram of her own schedule between them. "I've got some free time coming up soon, why don't we meet sometime this weekend?"

"You should accept," Ayumi texted. "Seriously, she will never stop bothering you."

Emma glanced between Ayumi, the brownie she held in her hand, and back up at Dr. Hang. The older woman had a look that seemed like she would gladly follow Emma out to the front if it was necessary in order to successfully show her Emma how to make brownies.

"I have a bad feeling," Emma texted.

"Dr. Hang will probably try to convince you to work on her experiments," Ayumi texted back.

"I see…"

"Well, Emma?" Dr. Hang prompted.

Emma sighed. "Sure. I might have something around then, but I'll make sure to message you."

"Wonderful!" said Dr. Hang, looking delighted. "Oh, but I'm monopolizing you. Did you come to talk to Ayumi about something?"

"Ah, yes, sorry, but I do need to talk to Ayumi," said Emma with an apologetic smile.

"Fair enough, I'll get out of your hair," said Dr. Hang, standing up to leave. "Keep the brownies, Ayumi! I'll make some more later."

The two girls watched her leave in silence, then stood for a moment in awkward silence.

"Is she always like that?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Ayumi sighed, dropping her face into her hands. "I'm sorry that you had to experience the Hang Treatment."

"It's… fine," said Emma, sighing as well.

"I really did try to keep her from doing this," said Ayumi, looking up at Emma contritely. "I really, really did. But Dr. Hang is…" Ayumi shook her head. "Anyway. Let's get you your clothes."

"Where's Giovanni?" Emma asked as Ayumi walked off towards a shelf full of finished orders.

"He's up to his eyeballs in a commission," said Ayumi. "A lot of simulations to run, so he's stepped out for a bit."

Giovanni sent a text to say hello and apologize for not being around. Emma sent a text back, then shifted to lean on the workbench and pick up another brownie to munch on. They really were very good.

"What're you working on?" Emma asked, poking at a half-assembled device with a finger.

"That?" Ayumi asked, glancing at the workbench. "Oh, that's just another attempt at getting a recording device to work in a miasma."

"I thought it was impossible?"

"Only sort of," said Ayumi. She walked back with Emma's dress bundled up in paper and tied shut with string, the package balanced atop a box holding the boots Giovanni had suggested during the fitting. "There's been a few successes here and there with special magically-enhanced devices, just enough to keep hopes up. I don't know about this one though."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's too simple," said Ayumi, setting the packages down with a sigh. "Or, I guess, it's too complex. It relies a lot on the magical girl doing the enchanting, which, well, I'm not really that well versed on to be honest."

Emma shrugged. "I dunno, that sounds like a problem to me. Enchantment is freaky stuff."

"Are you sure it's because it's hard or is it because you were watching football?" Ayumi asked, grinning at Emma. Emma frowned at her in mock anger, making Ayumi laugh. "All joking aside, it's a little more interesting than just a bunch of enchanting. There's a variety of basic controller work to do as well, in order for the device to react in the ways the lab wants it to react."

"Easy stuff?"

"Just to get my feet wet, yeah," said Ayumi, grinning confidently. "I'm planning on moving upstairs at the end of the year, actually."

"Oh, that's cool," said Emma. "Congratulations."

"Thanks!"

"I better get going though," said Emma, checking her chronometer. "Yeah, I need to meet Ayane soon."

"Alright, I'll see you around then," said Ayumi. She passed the dress to Emma with a smile. "Good luck!"

Emma and Ayane stepped onto the platform at the entrance to The Terminal Hotel and Casino, pausing to look up at the building's immense, reputedly hand-built facade.

"That is pretty ridiculous," Ayane said flatly.

"Apparently, back in the day, the hyperclass used to rent out the entire hotel and have huge parties," Emma recited from Infopedia. "That's nuts."

"Why didn't Governance demolish it?"

"Apparently because it's an 'important cultural heritage site, on account of the numerous landmark performances given by famous performers'," Emma quoted, scrolling through the Infopedia entry some more. "The most famous event that happened here was some guy who used to be underclass and made it out. The hyperclass tried to spin it as an example of upward social mobility."

Ayane snorted dismissively.

"I know right? So these days, the bottom floors have been renovated to be a museum, a concert hall, several ballrooms, and a convention center, but you can still rent out rooms if you want to come here for vacation."

Ayane raised her eyebrows. "Here? Really? How much?"

"…a lot."

Ayane made a face and peeked over at Emma's interface.

"…that's insane."

"I think we make that much in about a week," Emma said, wincing. "I mean, we could probably afford it, but then there's the restaurant, and the bar…"

"How delightfully hedonistic," Ayane said with dry humor. "If you ever want to go drown yourself in wine, let me know so I can come with you."

Emma snorted and bumped Ayane's shoulder with her own fondly. "I'll keep it in mind."

They made their way up the platform into the hotel's wide, carefully-manicured terrace garden. Around them, a combination of unmanned and human caretakers monitored the riotous display of flowers that saturated the air with the scent of nectar and left visitors vaguely stunned by the sheer intensity of color. The pathway wound around the garden, inevitably converging upon the fountain in the center with its prancing horses dancing on top of giant seashells that bore voluptuous mermaids.

"Huh," said Ayane, pausing at the fountain. She squinted at the sculptures briefly, then turned to give Emma a once over. "Maybe."

"Maybe what?" asked Emma.

"Nothing," said Ayane primly, before she took Emma's hand and continued into the hotel.

The interior of the hotel was hugely busy. This was perhaps to be expected. During normal business hours, the hotel doubled as a museum of humanity's cultural past. Photos of the sold-out concerts held in The Terminal's Grand Central Ballroom, headlined by performers who were the premier musicians of their time, stood upon the walls, where holographic captions shimmered in the air just above them that told of a bygone era, of the romance and the passion, and of the deep injustices enacted upon those without the wealth or the privilege to see the sights and taste the luxuries of a hyperclass life. It was still possible for tourists to feel the thrill of a game of baccarat or poker or blackjack in the same gambling hall where once the absurdly wealthy had frittered away their fortunes in wins and losses that could feed an underclass family for months, if not years.

Ryouta was in the Milano Centrale Ballroom, a somewhat smaller ballroom more suited to the more intimate experience that was viewing a gallery of photographs. The room had already been largely converted by the time Emma and Ayane had arrived. The wide arched ceiling of stained glass panels arced overhead in a spectrum of reds and greens, while below three meter tall, implant-mediated panes of virtual glass projected paintings and animated figures. Photographs of Emma and Vira and Motya in color and in black and white floated amongst them.

"Emma! There you are!"

Ryouta looked incredibly happy, pulling Emma into an enthusiastic hug as he bounded over from where he had been coordinating something with an older man. Both were dressed in business suits, with Ryouta clad in a very sharply cut ensemble that somehow made him seem taller than he really was. Emma felt under-dressed in her customary hoodie and jeans.

"Ah, sorry Ayane," said Ryouta, backing away to bow briefly. "It's wonderful to see you!"

"Good to see you too," said Ayane, bowing back and looking terribly amused. "What's the big occasion?"

"Only my first touring art show!" said Ryouta with a smile that threatened to levitate off his face. "Nobody my age makes this sort of thing on their first trip into the field! This is amazing!"

"How many cities are you hitting?" asked Emma. She shoved her hands into her hoodie's pockets, endeavoring to look casual. The older man was giving them an impatient look.

"Seven or eight, I think," said Ryouta. "Let's see, Tokyo, Mitakihara, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, then— yeah, yeah I think we finish in San Francisco, right Mr. Franzese?"

"After New York, yes, Mr. Shizuki," said Franzese. "A long road, to be sure."

"Mr. Franzese is one of my family's long time fixers," said Ryouta, pulling Emma and Ayane over to introduce them. "Mr. Franzese, this is my, er—"

"Girlfriend," Emma said, glancing over at Ayane, who returned a neutral pulse over telepathy.

"—girlfriend, Emma Sinclair," said Ryouta, looking briefly surprised, but recovering masterfully. "And this is—"

"Ayane Nakamura," said Ayane, sparing Ryouta the trouble of juggling the social questions and bowing politely. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Franzese."

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Nakamura," said Franzese, glancing between the three of them with a raised eyebrow but deciding not to comment. "And to you as well, Ms. Sinclair. It is always good to see young people reaching out and forming relationships. I congratulate you."

"Ah, um, thank you," said Emma. She was fairly sure she was blushing as she bowed.

"Anyway, Mr. Franzese and I were just going over the plans for the evening," said Ryouta. "I'm not sure if…"

"The hotel has many interesting attractions," said Franzese dryly. "There isn't much left to do. Why don't you show your guests around, Mr. Shizuki."

"Fair enough, Mr. Franzese," said Ryouta, bobbing a quick bow. "In that case, I'll leave it to you?"

Franzese sighed in slight amusement, the way that all adults seemed to sigh when they were recalling rose-tinted memories of their youth. "Try not to get too distracted. We'll need to go over the plans once more."

Ryouta beamed at him. "Alright."

The plan as Emma had envisioned it was originally to spend time together with both Ayane and Ryouta. She had hoped to get them to start talking to each other, maybe get a feel for what a triad, if it indeed happened, would be like. Unfortunately, this was not to be.

Ayane came to a halt as they turned the corner towards the elevators.

"I'm going to head back to my room," she said. "Leave you two alone for a while."

Emma blinked in surprise. "You don't have to. I was hoping—"

"Nah, you two should spend some time together without me in the way," said Ayane, waving her hand dismissively as she turned to leave. "It's important."

"If, er, if you're sure…"

"It's fine, really," said Ayane with a final smile. "See you around."

Emma watched her leave. She hadn't expected that, and it worried her. She didn't want Ayane to feel like she was being pushed away. If Ayane said it was fine, then perhaps, but…

"Emma?"

Emma sighed. She'd have to trust that Ayane was telling the truth.

"How have you been?" she said, turning to Ryouta with a smile. "Have things been going well for the art show?"

"Yeah!" said Ryouta enthusiastically. He gave a little skip as they reached the elevators, the doors sliding open smoothly just in time to let them step into the elevator pod. "It took a little while to get everything sorted, especially since I have to work with Governance. It's pretty annoying."

"What did Governance want?" asked Emma. The pod was a single bubble of polyglas, almost totally clear from every angle with only a single ring of gold to designate the floor. The effect would have been unsettling if Emma hadn't been dropped out of buildings more than once in training. Ryouta seemed more affected, and he pointedly looked only at Emma's face as they began to ascend.

"Oh, well, you know, magical girls are a touchy subject," said Ryouta, making a helpless gesture. "You remember in Civics, how they talked about how in the beginning of the war they sent all magical girls?"

Emma nodded. If she'd been made to choose what era to be a magical girl in, the start of the Contact War would not have been the era she chose.

"Well if you follow the politics, there's a lot of people trying to push the age limit higher," said Ryouta.

"That's… weird."

Ryouta shrugged. "I guess? I don't follow it very much."

"I mean, everyone knows that we need every girl we can get," said Emma with a scowl. "That's dumb. Making a good wish is more important anyway."

Ryouta shrugged again and smiled apologetically. "We don't talk about it all that much at home, so I don't know much. Governance wanted to make sure that the show doesn't end up making an… unhelpful point. It's fine, it wasn't like I wanted to do that."

Emma nodded. It made sense.

The elevator dinged as they reached the end of their ride. A glance at the status screen made Emma realize they were at the top of the building. The trip had been so smooth and quick that she hadn't noticed that they'd moved.

"You're living all the way up here?" Emma asked as the doors opened. "This is pretty swank."

"Yeah," said Ryouta, grinning a little sheepishly. "It turns out that the Shizuki Matriarchy owns the hotel."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Aunt Sayaka messaged me and said that she'd taken care of my hotel and stuff when I was getting ready to leave Nagoya," said Ryouta, stepping quickly onto firm, opaque ground and breathing a small sigh of relief. "So that was cool. I didn't realize she was going to do this though."

"And so you ended up with a penthouse suite," Emma deadpanned as she followed. "That's pretty impressive for someone our age."

"Well, there are some benefits to being a member of a major matriarchy," said Ryouta. He gestured for Emma to follow him and began walking. "I heard that the Burnside-Sinclairs are trying to absorb you and your family?"

"Something of that nature," said Emma with a shrug. "I haven't talked to my parents about it much, but they seem against it. Why do you ask?"

"It's making the news in the Shizuki social network," said Ryouta. He shrugged as well. "I don't know much about it and I'm not too interested, but if you'd like I can ask my mom about it some more?"

"My parents would probably appreciate it," said Emma with a wry smile. "It's troublesome, but if you're offering, I guess I should probably take advantage of you."

Ryouta snorted. "I'm just using you to further my own political gains," he said with fake snobbishness. "Soon you will be bowing and scraping before me, peasant girl."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure, and meanwhile my sister who is secretly a magical girl is planning on assassinating you so that I can steal your inheritance. Or something."

"That doesn't actually happen you know," Ryouta said, snickering. "Only in vids."

"That's what they said about penthouse suites after the Unification Wars," said Emma. "And look where you're living now."

"Yeah, well, I'm told not to get too used to it," said Ryouta, stopping in front of his door and holding it open. "So I'm probably safe from assassination for the moment. After you."

"Thank you."

Emma stepped inside and looked around as she took off her shoes. The suite wasn't much larger than her family's apartment, to be honest, but it'd been reshuffled to look larger and had two floors. The first floor was the living room, decorated in a sort of retro-Riviera way with full-length French windows that opened up to a balcony. The second floor, from what Emma could see near the door, was supposed to be the bedroom, and had been decorated similarly to the first floor.

"It's supposed to be a one-person," said Ryouta, stepping in after her. "Queen-sized bed and stuff. Supposedly it hasn't been changed from its original setup, but I can play music with my implants so it can't be that original."

Emma blinked as an ancient jazz tune began playing.

"You listen to jazz?" she asked, smiling a little. The song was familiar to her.

"A little," said Ryouta. He took Emma's hand and pulled her towards the living room. "I noticed it on your profile and thought I'd take a look. Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure, some water is fine."

"Nothing alcoholic?" asked Ryouta. "The minibar is pretty impressive, though I can't really appreciate much of it."

"It's not just a synthesizer?"

"No, it's got actual bottles!" said Ryouta excitedly as he pulled open the cabinet full of drinks. "See? It's amazing! I've never seen so many all at once."

"Me neither," said Emma, bending over to examine the bottles. "Oh hey, my dad buys this one."

"Is it any good?"

"I like it," said Emma with a shrug. "Have you tried it?"

"No."

"Do you want some?"

Ryouta shrugged. "Sure."

Emma poured out a glass for Ryouta and poured herself a glass of water.

"Here."

"Thanks," said Ryouta. He made an embarrassed face and coughed. "Ah, uh, well, really, I should be pouring for you. Sorry for being a bad host."

"Eh? Don't worry about it, it's nothing important."

"It is!" insisted Ryouta, before reconsidering. "Well, not that important, I guess, but still. Boys should, you know, do these things when they're d-dating someone."

Emma made a face. "Is this a matriarchy thing?"

"Must be," said Ryouta, taking his glass of whiskey with a pout. "Mom would yell at me if we were at home."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I was thinking that we should get some lunch?" said Ryouta. He gestured at the balcony. "I didn't think that Ayane wouldn't be coming with us, but I don't think it changes much."

Emma smiled at him. "Lunch would be nice."

"So, er, I've been meaning to ask," said Ryouta after they'd settled into the meal. "Why did you introduce yourself as my girlfriend?"

Emma blinked and looked up from her plate of food. "Does it bother you?"

"No, of course not," said Ryouta. He blushed and poked at a pea. "It makes me happy. But, well, didn't you say you were still, er…"

"Deciding?"

"Yeah."

"Well," said Emma carefully. "Ayane and I talked about it. We decided that it wouldn't be right if I didn't introduce myself that way. Ayane didn't introduce herself as my girlfriend because she didn't want to imply anything."

"Imply?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I'm thinking about dating both of you. In a triad."

Ryouta blinked at her. "…really?"

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Last night, I guess?" said Emma. "I talked to my dad, and he mentioned it might be worth trying."

"Interesting…"

"Ayane didn't want to make it seem like it was a thing without asking you first," said Emma. She put her fork down to keep from fidgeting with it nervously. "What do you think?"

Ryouta picked up his drink and took a thoughtful sip.

"Well, it wouldn't be that weird," he said eventually. "It's not that common, true, but I have a cousin that's in a triad. We may as well try it."

Emma blinked. "Really?"

Ryouta shrugged. "I mean, it's really not that weird? I've never done it before, but as long as Ayane is okay with it there's no reason not to."

Emma smiled in relief. "I'll let Ayane know then. We'll have to plan a date for the three of us."

Ryouta laughed, picking up his fork again to cut off a piece of pork. "I'll look around. There's a lot to do in Mitakihara, so I'm sure we'll find something fun to do."

They lapsed into silence, quietly eating for a moment.

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you," said Ryouta. "Mr. Franzese went ahead and invited Vira and Motya to fly in from Samsara."

"Really?" Emma asked, surprised. "When did that happen?"

"A while ago, apparently," said Ryouta. He made an annoyed face. "Mr. Franzese didn't mention it to me until a few days ago, and then I forgot to tell you because of how busy I was at the time."

"Don't worry about it, I understand," said Emma, waving off the concern. "When did they get to Mitakihara?"

"Their flight wasn't supposed to reach Earth until yesterday," said Ryouta. "Aunt Sayaka got them nice rooms somewhere in town, but not in The Terminal."

"Only the best for her precious grandchild?" Emma asked wryly.

Ryouta blushed. "I-I guess."

"Anyway, are they going to be traveling with the show?" asked Emma. "Or are they just here for the first opening?"

"They're only here for the first opening," said Ryouta. "They wanted to get back to Samsara as quickly as possible, though I think they'll be around long enough to see Mitakihara a little."

"Ah, that makes sense," said Emma, nodding. "Maybe we'll go on a patrol together."

"That could be fun."

"Heh, hopefully."

"Speaking of which, what have you been doing while I've been preparing for this show?" asked Ryouta. "I'm sorry, I haven't really been keeping up with what's been happening."

"Oh, don't worry, it's fine," said Emma. "I've just been going on patrol and taking a couple of classes. Oh, and Kyouko has decided to train me in polearm combat for some reason."

"Really? That's amazing!"

"I guess," said Emma, flushing slightly. "Everybody keeps saying that. She's making me talk to people about my vision with it, so—"

"You got a vision?" Ryouta asked, eyebrows jumping upwards. "That's— holy crap! Why didn't you mention it earlier?"

"I-I mean, I don't really… it's not a pleasant vision," said Emma. She frowned at her plate. "It mostly involves ways that I die, in the future. I saw two versions of myself who had died in different ways. One died in combat, the other from depression. They grabbed me by the hands, and then the Goddess said something about how I had to choose, but that to fulfill my wish I had to use both hands."

Ryouta put his fork down again and looked at Emma contemplatively.

"That is a very interesting vision," he said seriously. "It sounds complex."

"Do you have any thoughts on it?"

Ryouta made a troubled expression. "The straightforward analysis is easy. The Goddess is likely making some kind of point about needing balance in your life. But that seems too easy."

"…really?"

"Well what does balance actually mean?" asked Ryouta. "It's sort of vague, don't you think? I think that there's something important that we're missing."

"I guess…"

Ryouta sighed. "Well, whatever I suppose. It's probably not something to dwell too much on. Have you asked Ayane about this?"

"Ayane said something similar," said Emma. "About balance and stuff."

Ryouta nodded. "I'll think more about it later then. Do you want any dessert?"