Sessions, Dr. Naboru explained to the board of hospital administrators, would need to continue in an attempt to keep her calm. Music and art therapy showed a tendency to ease her mind somewhat. As he spoke he laid out pictures of the rooms she had destroyed.

"This isn't possible," someone whispered. "How old?"

"Fourteen," Dr. Naboru said. "Not even one hundred pounds."

The picture of the burns on the door passed from hand to hand.

"Where did she get a heat source from?"

"She didn't have one."

A young man, new to the board, tossed the picture aside with barely a glance. "Is this a joke? Or some kind of trick?"

"I think," the doctor said slowly, each word sharp and clear as ice, "you will find that I do not tend toward jokes or tricks. Especially when it comes to the mental health of a traumatized young girl."

"How are we supposed to believe that she could do this?" the newest board member insisted. "Was there any sign of violence before she came here?"

Dr. Naboru pulled from his briefcase another file folder. It was the folder the detective had given him three months before, the pictures of the crime scene that she had not been able to see again. After a moment of consideration he chose a photograph and laid it on the table.

Heat had burned most of the face too badly to be recognized, except where she had thrown up one arm. Much of her hair had been singed away but a few locks of dark blue could be seen in wisps upon the ground. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, while her other arm wrapped over her chest, perhaps in an attempt to protect herself. As she was struck she had fallen backward with her legs stretched out in front of her. In the picture the shining white bone could be seen ripping through the flesh of her leg in several places.

"Mizuno Ami," he said. "Fourteen. A classmate and friend of the patient's. Genius level IQ, shy but kind, always willing to help others. Broken neck, ribs, and both femurs. Third degree burns over the entire front of her body."

The second picture came out, laid beside the first. Only the left side of the face was burnt, leaving the right side intact to show her last expression of horror. One blue eye still stared up at the merciless stars. Her right arm lay stretched out to her side, singed and struck with enough force to strip flesh away. In her hand was something gold, roughly the size of a large pen. Something had once decorated the top, but it had been broken off when the rest of the object cracked.

"Aino Minako," the doctor continued. "Fourteen. A classmate and friend. She had just moved to Tokyo less than a year ago. Good at singing, dancing, and volleyball. The back of her skull, where it hit the pavement, was shattered into fragments so small the coroner needed a magnifying glass to find them all. Third degree burns over most of the front of her body. Ribs crushed in until they punctured nearly every internal organ."

A third photograph was laid beside the other two. Despite the burns, the lacerations, and the near lake of blood, her raven black hair remained clean and silky. Whatever had exploded out from the center of that group had thrown her into the arcade wall. The scorching heat left a perfect outline of her body on the brick before she had slumped down to the sidewalk. She lay curled on her side on the cement, her hands together almost as though she was praying.

"Hino Rei. Also fourteen, also a friend. She went to a different school than the other girls. From what people told the police, she was aloof, a little proud, and had a temper. Fiercely loyal. She would never have thought for a second to leave her friends. Burns over the front of her body, broken spine, broken neck, broken tibia…just broken. Also, she seems to have been holding something red. Shards of red crystal or glass were found in her hand."

The fourth image made him wince. Her face was nearly gone. She lay in a heap, limbs twisted and splayed in ways they never should. From the damage the medical examiners had guessed she had been closest to the source of the blast. They found blood that was not her own on her hands as well as scraps of white cloth, all of which they later matched to the boy with the white hair.

"Kino Makoto. Fourteen. Classmate. Friend. You can't see it, but she was tall for her age. The patient's parents say she loved to cook. Her own parents died several years ago, so they at least did not have to see…Protective, gentle, a little unsure of herself. Third degree burns over the front of her body, massive blunt force trauma to her face and skull, and a broken neck. The fabric in her hands is from another victim, so the medical examiners think she was grappling with him or holding onto him when it happened."

"When what happened?" one of the administrators asked.

Instead of answering, the doctor brought out three more pictures, lining them up in a row.