I guess I've put this off for about as long as I can, my least favorite topic, myself. Skip over me in any css self introductions please, I have no fun facts, I am less interesting than the protagonist of a dating sim from the 90s. I guess that isn't exactly going to work, though, will it? You to who I devote this to, the little nook in the back of my head I am turning to as I am in this reality bending scenario, my companion as I stare at the ground as to not look forward at the legs of one Amagami Ikue.

  My name is not actually Redman, as you have surmised. I am a twenty year old major of the Liberal Arts, currently enrolled in Bunkyo's very own Tsubasa University. I'm a Leo, born on the year of the dragon, and have the blood type AB. And for the st 4 years, I have been using the name Redman to document an ongoing case that started sometime in the year 1991, a long running string of disappearances affecting the people of Japan. Not from their jobs, their friends and families, but from reality itself. After witnessing it for myself, I have devoted my life to chronicle every case of the victims of Vanishing, a term I will be using from here on out.

  When I was 16 years old, I witnessed a cssmate vanish before my eyes, as if he was erased from reality all together. This event sparked something in me, an undying urge, a fascination, an obsession to broadcast this tragedy to the world. For the uncaring eyes of the blind public to be forced to pry themselves away from their pcated misery to see the truth of this world.

  I began this crusade shortly after schools in my area began allowing students to attend in person csses again, after COVID-19's infection ratings began to dwindle in our country. The boy in question vanished after falling onto the tracks of on oncoming train, right before the moment of impact, he disappeared in less than an instant. Gone, no blood, no viscera, no clothes, no hairs, not even a string could be found. And yet the police simply ruled it a suicide, letting anyone who saw it know that his body would be found, that it was a tragedy that should be moved on from. I didn't believe it, not for a second, I know what I saw. I saw a boy my age vanish from existence, right in front of me.

  It was forgotten, the case was a tragic footnote, no, something tacked onto the appendix of a book at the very end. The police moved on, the town forgot, the people ignored it. But I couldn't, the bile in my throat rose every day that I saw the supposedly kind people of my school acting as if the Vanishing of our cssmate never happened; smiling, hanging out after school, celebrating sports victories, treating this time of grieving as a time of reprieving. I hated them, all of those fake pieces of shit, rotten to their core. I knew what needed to be done, and it was up to me, the forgettable cssmate, the guy in the very back nearest to the door, what's his name again, me. A fire was lit, one consuming knowledge as if it was air and burning brighter for it. My research started as an after school diversion, then I began to do it into the night, and before school, and during school, and on Sundays, holidays, I looked every single day every hour for the entirety of my High School life. An unmarried Saryman in Shinjuku, a grieving Widow in Saitama, orphaned twins from Izu. I read every. Single. Story. I. Could.

  It was in my st year of high school, that Redman was born. Archive Man, the anonymous chronicler of the Vanished. I created a board on Tsu-channel, Titled as follows.

  THE MYSTERIOUS CASES OF THE VANISHED, A SPACE TIME TRAGEDY.

  I was immediately mocked for this title, as expected, but it was the one I thought what fit the most. But my resolve to post my findings was as iron cd as my rules for this case, unbending. For my entire summer vacation I recounted the 2443 cases of Vanishing I was able to find over the course of one year, from the date of 1991, to as te as the month prior to my post. At first my threads were lively, ranging from people saying that I was the scum of the Earth for dredging up stories of people's families, to a loser stalker who likely wanted the attention, to a chunnibyou who was creating an Alternate Reality Game which was 'Shit' as the wise people put it. I was asked inane, worthless questions. I was told to try changing my focus to finding out the measurements of shy celebrities. I was told to try to solve actual murders. I was even told to investigate when the next season of the board's agreed upon, without my consent, anime would be made, and when I denied the request was formally known as Reddown. They were creative at least.

  But this died down, posts became more sparse, interest faded after almost two weeks. By week 3 I thought I felt a pit grow in my stomach, I thought I was merely screaming into the void. No one cared, no one would hear me out, I was stranded, adrift in the messy recesses of my own mind. But I was wrong, there was 5. 5 posters, regur posters who would consistently comment on my dying threads. They started out as anonymous posters, but quickly adopted names much like myself on the board.

  MisoUdon, the most empathetic poster. A genuinely kind soul, one who always asks about my own well being. They often only engage in discussions of why victims may fit the demographic of Vanished.

  AmalgaYangthze, my intellectual rival. A quizzical person, always challenging me on my preconceived notions of the state of the world. I originally thought they were trolling me, trying to get a rise, but their questions were very clearly genuine after deeper readings. To this day they do not believe that the Vanished disappear, but still engage anyhow, under the notion that it may be an expinable phenomenon. Cheeky brat.

  36RROW!!! their excitable name says enough, frankly too much. They talk in cutesy moe patterns, ending every post with nya or mrow. Yet even still they are engaged, often asking very poignant questions, in stupid manners.

  HanaHanabi, the who I believe to be the youngest out of the posters. They often ask innocent questions, sometimes irrelevant, often missing out on basic internet sng. Moe. More moe than that poser try hard 36 who is likely a grown man acting like a cat girl on the internet. Their posts are so sweet, so kind, I care not for who they are they are more rejuvenating than a hot spring.

  And most odd of them all, Mu. Nothing. They speak the most sparsely, yet always leave the group the most stunned. They are, to my own shock, a fellow researcher. Though, they do not abide by my code of remaining distant from the victims and those aware of them. They terrify me, yet despite their questionable morals are oddly harmless.

  How these weirdos ended up on such a dying format as an anonymous image board, you have me there. My guess is they likely found out about it through Toritter, and stumbled upon my little thread by happenstance. Not Mu, they likely found me out by researching. Scary!

  Well, considering how worthless that site has become, maybe if it was 2010 you could have something resembling a community, we moved to a private Chaos channel, sticking to our codes on the board. It's a shock, I know, but I have something almost akin to a friend group on the internet. Why they would bother talking to someone so unremarkable I couldn't describe my looks if you handed me a mirror I do not know. I always sort of imagined they all looked like me, bnd, weirdos who you don't really consider after first seeing.

  REDMAN AND HIS FELLOW DISPLACEMENT RESEARCHERS! Is the most energetic way I could describe it. Not very intimidating, because we aren't.

  Today was intended to be a retively standard research visit, yet here I am, traveling up a previously endless now limited stairwell, somehow we're only on the sixth floor at that. That's not quantum mechanics at py, but merely a trick of cognition.

  To cut through the boredom, I speak to my fellow hostage to academia. "Amagami-san," I say, only for the target of conversation to suddenly stop.

  "How formal, you really should cut loose a bit, Man-kun. Why not stare at my legs for a bit and call me something crass?" As if I'd ogle a woman I just met! Well, I did stare at her pretty face a lot but that's different!

  "Something crass, what floor are you heading to?"

  "Oh, that's a good reply. Your wit isn't as dull as I thought." Amagami stops, resting her arms on the middle of the railing. "Floor Eight, News Records. I take it you're looking for Floor Thirteen, Porn Porn and more Porn?" I think one porn is enough.

  "Why are you so insistent on calling me a pervert?"

  "I'm projecting, it's fun, give it a try."

  "O, tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide!" (Henry VI, Part 3. York, Act 1 Scene 4.)

  "Don't think that you can use that line to transition into some cheesy quote about you being a dragon, meaning you can stand by me..." (Toradora, Volume 1. Takasu Ryuuji, Page 183.) Don't compare our beloved Sao to a rom-com!

  "What's a Quantum Physicist doing going to News Records for?" I ask, standing besides her, as she waits on the stairs for a moment. A hypocrite, one who wants to be proven wrong, despite clinging so desperately to what she knows. That's what she said. I can't tell if she's aloof, or trying to hide herself away. She's friendly and warm, yet somehow cold and closed off.

  She falls silent, as she looks down at the limited abyss below us, a sad glint hiding behind that smile she forces on at all times. "My dad, he's the one who founded this library." Huh? What does that have to do with what I asked. "He named it in honor of my birth mother. Venus, the Goddess of beauty." She turns around, resting her formerly injured back against the metal rail. "He met her in Rome on a school trip, the two fell in love despite not speaking the same nguage. He was an Astronomer, she was a Historian..." She shuts her eyes, her cat like smile back. "She died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. Complications happen even in this day and age..."

  "Sorry, that's awful."

  "People always say that, but I never knew her. Wouldn't even know where to begin the process of feeling sad about that..." She meets my vision once more, as we stand in the stairwell, lit with blue light. "He loved this pce, wanted it to carry on her memory. But..." It failed, such a niche focus caused it to be converted into a more general library. "He was crushed. He didn't even seem sad, just gone. The honor of his wife was besmirched, by his own failure at that." She approaches a wall, to her right the stairs, to her left the cold concrete wall. She tilts her head back, staring at my very soul. "He tried to hide it from me, but I was able to figure out that he felt like a failure of a husband. As a kid, I told him to not bme himself, that it wasn't his fault." She shows that bitter grin again. "He felt like a failure of a father after that. His daughter, who had just entered the 6th grade, was comforting him after a financial failure. He began to drink, heavily. He was a pathetic mess half the time, the other he was closed off, sealing himself in his office until te into the night." Cold, downright brutal. Though I can't say I disagree.

  "Are you here to honor him, or something?" I can't exactly rete, my dad and I never were close. He rarely ever spoke to me, still doesn't even now. A busy man, with a busy life.

  "Nope, all I want is to read the report of his disappearance."

  "Disappearance?" A man suffering from a total mental breakdown, drowning his sorrows in liquid vice, mourning the loss of his wife two times over. Mister Amagami, a man suffering a great loss disappeared? No, no just rex. You always do this, not everything is a part of the case. But how can't this be another case of Vanishing?

  Amagami looks up at me, a lurid look in her eyes, the blue from the lights making her azure eyes hard to look at. Such a deep, intimidating stare. No, not intimidation or anger in some way. Regret. I know that look too well, that feeling that stews in your gut, like bile stirring on an empty stomach.

  "After he gave up ownership of this pce, he had become a recluse." Standing as straight as she can, she looks up, into the gaping maw of the center above us, it's metal teeth shaded a deep dark cobalt. "Compounding to his beliefs he was a failure, he was fired from his position at the local university. Poor attendance, ironic for a teacher, isn't it?" What a macabre joke. "He chose to live inside his office. The shame drove him to social isotion, or more fittingly, isotion from the world itself." She shifts her body to her right, looking towards the stairs with an almost tired expression. "There I was, barely having turned twelve, and I was the one who fed the entire family. Not only that, but I cleaned, I shopped for groceries, I even filled out the bills on his behalf. All while I was just beginning puberty..." There's a sort of venom in her tone, resentment. I can hardly bme her, her childhood ended before it could even begin.

  "I'm sorry Iku-chan." Her face still bares that grin, a cold smile. "I heard that so often it lost meaning, to the point where I naturally distrust any apology." She sighs, looking at me with the sort of expression a doctor would put on for a child, while they expin to them why their parent is dying. "The day he disappeared, it was so pin that I can hardly remember it. I think that I went shopping, and purchased myself some yogurt for lunches. I think that I made instant curry for dinner, with room temperature water, which he always insisted was best to drink." Her description is so painfully dull, how? How can you talk about him like that, Amagami? "I entered his room, left his food and drink on his desk, and left. It wasn't until the next day that I had realized I had delivered food to an empty room..."

  "You didn't even notice if he was there or not?"

  "Would you notice if I moved a chair in your living room 4 centimeters to the left?" Furniture? Was he so static that he seemed like an object? The image of a desote room, coated in dust, littered with papers, with one lonely man sat on the floor enters my mind. "He rarely spoke, he was more content with wasting away than having a discussion." Self inflicted harm, fgeltion, a Hell of its own. A Hell coated in the miasma of dead skin, musty is it's air smelling of ratty paper and linen, and so dry and warm I feel like coughing just imagining it.

  "I called the authorities, but wasn't much help. I could only guess when he had vanished, by the untouched ptes I'd left." So the day she spoke of wasn't even the day he vanished. "The room was locked, the windows had a yer of dust in front of them, there was no logical way for him to have left it in that state. He simply vanished."

  Vanished. Locked room, no way out, no logical way out. Gone, vanished. Vanished. Vanished. Vanished. Without a trace, no evidence, not a drop of blood.

  "He couldn't have vanished. We'll find his bod-"

  I retch, bile flooding my mouth, a sick metallic taste, scorching my mouth, burning my nose. I cover my mouth with my hand, and gulp the retched substance that rose up from within me, no, no showing such weakness.

  "Man-kun?" Amagami quickly rushes over to me, as I'm hunched over, choking on my own vomit. "Are you alright?" Genuine concern fills his voice, her cold facade cracked, her mouth's middle upturned into an open frown. Worry.

  "Y-yeah..." My voice is croaky, like a frog's, I still feel sick. A body vanishing, not a trace, nothing, as if it was destroyed on an atomic level, nothing. Gone. I shut my eyes.

  I am here, I am standing, I am here, it's March, I'm in stairwell.

  "Forgot to eat..." I give a horrible excuse, if she buys it or not is irrelevant. The truth remains hidden, I can't tell anyone, not ever. "H-he... Vanished?"

  Amagami crosses her arms, a troubled look on her face, as she scans my face. "Yes, without a trace." The answer I was hoping for, or rather, the one I despise so much that it gives me own retched existence some sort of meaning. Yeah, I hate those stories, every one of them. But I need them, like a drug, my body rejects anything else. She's reluctant to continue, seeing through my paper thin lies, but pushes onwards. "The police told me nothing, retives knew next to nothing, and he left nothing to give so much as an inkling of an iota as to where he had gone."

  "Was he hallucinating?" Another warning sign, one that occurs in 21% of cases involving the Vanished.

  "No." Amagami bluntly answers, I'm getting too close, I'm pushing past the acceptable line. "If he was, he'd never have told me. But even mentally unwell, I doubt my father would leave such worrying symptoms unaddressed." Not a sign to rule anything out, the majority had no visions, maybe the odd dream they wrote about, but nothing so btant. More of a smoking gun, a niche that when included all but confirms things. I need to be more subtle, need to work my questions in subtly. "What an odd question to ask."

  "It's a possible sign that he had developed a further mental disorder. Could expin him leaving." Yeah, good cover.

  Extreme mental stress.

  Recent loss or rge scale change in life.

  Delusions created of the world.

  Distancing from friends and family.

  Hallucinations, ruled out.

  Next, need to ask that question. But she's eyeing me, maybe, maybe I need to wait. Maybe I should find out in private, look at the report myself.

  "... That's possible. However, I think there's another question you had." What? How does she know? "No, my father hadn't expressed any sort of want to leave. His current situation, the country, or this world..." How did she know the next step? That makes things uncertain, almost always that's a common behavior. Barely any of confirmed cases had the victim show no such interest. Wait, get a hold of yourself dammit! How did she know my method?

  I am here, I am standing, in a library, in a stairwell, I'm breathing...

  "How did you know what I was going to ask?"

  Amagami sighs, putting on that shield again, her smile. "Just the next logical question, if I said yes, it'd make sense as to his sudden departure." That's... the far more likely outcome. "Why are you so interested, hm?" Eh? Uh.

  "I wanted to get to know you better?" Why did I ask that?!

  "I see, digging up my sordid past to understand me better... You sound like the enemy of woman kind." What are these accusations? I deserve some ribbing for my prying, my mental state got out of control, but that title is overkill. Enemy of woman kind?

  "N-No! I just want to understand why... you want to go up, even with the dangers."

  "Ah, a good question." She nods, her hair bouncing as she does so. "I must seem like an idiot for wanting to continue considering what you say you went through." Yes, what does that make me though. "It's my obsession. I hold very little love for my father anymore, my own curiosity lead me here." The stairwell once again is basked in an orange light, the miasma of cold has vanished, as has her dark tone. Truthfully, I'm here for the same reason. My own research lead me to discover that Manabe's news coverage is rather cking, to an absurd degree in this modern era. News from the area is rarely ever spread online, staying to the local newspaper's website exclusively. A sleepy city in the prefecture of Hokkaido, hosting a number of unreported potential vanishings, I was out the door half way through. What really sold it for me was my discussion with Mu, in a DM. Something I rarely do, especially with that guy.

  Mu: Ah, Manabe. Odd choice, Aka.

  Redman: Sticking to Aka, huh?

  Redman: Anyhow, yeah. Found out their news coverage is pretty bad there. Figured checking out their records could give me access to potentially hundreds of new cases.

  Mu: I see, it was renovated about ten years after Vanishings began...

  Mu: The library there is actually pretty infamous.

  Redman: For what? Serious te fees?

  Mu: Funny. No, it's an eyesore. And it was a complete failure.

  Mu: But for such a big project, could you imagine the catastrophic scale of the failure the founder must have experienced?

  Mu: There's no records online about what happened to him afterwards, but from what I found, the founder, a professor, may have vanished.

  Mu: Well, Aka. I imagine that must interest you.

  Why exactly Mu pulled up that info, I frankly don't want to know, I suspect they might have ties to the United States Government. Or the KGB. Or that one European Nuclear Research institute. I can never get the spelling right, I bme English as a nguage and a certain... getting sidetracked. It wasn't even a lead, it was an assumption. An assumption that may bare fruit, to think, Amagami Ikue's own father may have Vanished himself.

  "Why are you so keen to keep going? You supposedly lost an arm, if only for a brief moment." Amagami snaps me out of my stupor, I don't know how to respond to that. "You said you were like me, a hypocrite. So I can only assume this pce your own curiosity's lead you here."

  She's right, spot on in fact. It hardly seems fair to hide the truth from her after she shared such intimate details, but the idea of revealing my deepest obsession to someone not behind a computer screen, well it repulses me. "About that..." I'm an awful liar, it's why I was banned from that library in Shinjuku. Why didn't I just say that I wanted to access their records? I was a nervous teenager, which is precisely why they did not believe for a nanosecond that I was a foreign diplomat. I get nervous, I've forgiven myself for acting in such truly cringe-worthy way! Though, now that I thought of it, that's going to haunt me te into the night.

  "I'm interested in the Occult. I wanted to research some unreported disappearances in the area." I'm sweating, I'm telling the truth and yet here I am sweltering like a con goer waiting in line, being assaulted with the rays of the damn summer sun, not suspicious at all! You absolute moron. Wait, she just told me about her father, she's likely thinking that I want to dig into his case, prying into family matters like some sort of stalker! Or worse, tabloid journalist! "N-not like your father, I'm looking for more supernatural cases!" Doth I protest too much?

  "You don't find his disappearance to be supernatural? In any way?" Her cool blue eyes are tinted green by the warm yellow glow, looking like the surface of a pond one would find deep in the gdes of the most treacherous swamp, swimming with details and warped in ways that allude my own. I feel a gravitational force, pull the focus of my vision down, unable to meet the choking haze her gaze. "I would say it is, the man vanished from inside of a locked room. Do you really not find that the slightest bit odd?"

  She's aggressive, here I was getting used to talking to this woman, finding her fun to talk to. Yet when she wanted to, she has a dominating presence, an imposing figure that must be addressed. I must be a generic thug compared to her, because I feel dizzy just being near her. Though that may be more so due to my crippling anxieties in social situations.

  "It is weird. There's not really any normal expnation I can think of." I admit in earnest. "How exactly a grown man can leave a room without disturbing a locked door or window is, at the moment, nothing I can imagine."

  "Really? You have no theories? Are you sure you won't suddenly remember something as we're about to leave, and tell me that there's just 'one more thing'" I know I'm not exactly tall, I'm lucky to have reached the 170s, but calling me a short and shlubby detective is a bit much!

  "No! And don't compare me to Colombo for crying out loud!"

  "Why? You're a researcher, a curious mind like yours must in some way idolize a man like that. Are you embarrassed because you're remembering an essay you wrote when you were 10 about how you wanted to be him when you grew up?"

  "What kind of me kid wants to be... Nevermind! No, I don't have any theories!"

  As expected, my lie is as flimsy as my nerve is in a social situation, I have multiple theories at the moment. Amagami's now verdant eyes pull mine up, forcing them to meet hers. She doesn't believe it, not for a minute.

  "I see." She pinly says. "I also don't have an idea, it's why I came here, after all." She turns, that same smile on as her eyes leave my form, and faces away from me. Did she actually buy it? "You're what I expected you to be."

  "What?" What does she mean? What she expected me to be? Did she have a preconceived idea of me before, if so, how? Does she know me from somewhere? She couldn't know who Redman is, right?

  "You're exactly how I imagined an occult otaku to act." My identity is safe, my ego is not. She begins to walk up the stairs, holding the rail loosely as she ascends. I begin to follow, sheepishly looking away as to not see up her skirt at all.

  She suddenly turns heel, spinning around on one step, before as suddenly as she rotated herself, begins to walk backwards up the steps, those sky blue eyes staring down at me so cuttingly I feel lesser in their range. "I do have an idea, actually. I believe he was transported to another world."

  I stop, my face falling into a surprised frown, my eyes widening and staring off to the stairs below. How, how did she get that theory? Assuming your dad was transported to another world after only knowing he disappeared? That makes no sense, unless she has some sort of knowledge of Vanishings. No normal person would think that. No, Amagami Ikue stated she wouldn't either. I compose myself, inhaling slowly.

  "Somehow I doubt that you do. You stated before that the immediate transportation of matter doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who rejected the idea of my arm reappearing be fine with the idea that her dad was teleported off to another world?"

  "You're sharp, you remembered that. Yeah, I do find it stupid. Illogical, nonsensical, impossible. Teleportation as we know it from fiction is impossible. Transporting matter at the speed of light is not theoretically possible." She continues up the stairs, taking ginger steps, not breaking her fixation on me. "But have you considered a quantum expnation?"

  "I... may have." Quantum Teleportation, nothing like what we imagine teleportation to be like, but it's theoretically possible with how we understand the universe. The immediate transfer of the Quantum Information of one being to another. It's not exactly the best analogy, but think of it like copying the entirety of one hard drive onto another. The original hard drive remains as it was, but the new hard drive is functionally speaking the same. "But that doesn't expin his disappearance. It would only expin it if he reappeared elsewhere."

  "You're speaking as if cloning was possible." She stops, standing just before the dark red stencil drawn on the wall, 7. "If my father appeared somewhere else, your understanding of what I meant would be correct. But that isn't what I asked."

  She raises her two hands, index fingers pointing up. "If object A were to send all of it's quantum data to B, B would be functionally the same as A. But there's a problem, it doesn't resemble teleportation, not the the common person. Merely cloning of one object onto another."

  She lowers her left finger. "Now, answer this. What would it take for Object B to seem like it was Object A after teleportation?"

  "If... Object A was destroyed. On a molecur level."

  "Correct. Let's just say for the sake of your sanity, A being unrecognizable as what it is is enough for it to be considered destroyed. Let's compare it to a hard drive. If I broke Hard Drive A, shattered it and destroyed everything that made it A, then B would become the only thing that resembles A, meaning that it becomes A."

  "Are you saying that you think your Dad was killed? That his information was transferred somewhere else?"

  "It's a theory, nothing concrete. But yes, the idea or force capable of transferring the Quantum Data of a being and destroying the original is far more likely that an honest to god teleportation..."

  "You're wrong!" I shout, she has to be. If that's the case that cssmate is dead, gone, never coming back. Some imposter out there may think he's him but he ISN'T. "Your dad exists out there, I know he does!"

  "I didn't say he didn't. I said his original self was destroyed, the new him is as much he is as he once was."

  "That's not your dad then! That's just an imposter, Amagami!"

  "So, you want to argue the philosophy of the Ship of Thesus?" She cocks her head. "If you want to discuss that, then by your logic my father is absolutely gone. He disappeared over 7 years ago, so the father I knew was entirely repced on a cellur level."

  "That's not the same! Your cells repcing themselves over time isn't the same as being destroyed on an atomic level and having your being imprinted on something else!"

  "You seem rather defensive on this topic." Damn, she's right I'm losing my cool over a simple discussion! This never happens online, but how can I stay calm? By her logic every one of the victims of Vanished are dead! While some imposter is masquerading as them in the new world. It's sickening, disrespectful. But... isn't it also odd? Why is she sharing this idea, is this what she wanted to be wrong about?

  "I find it disrespectful to the families of the people who Vanished, cases like your father."

  "Vanished? Is that what you'd call it?" She weakly smiles, I used a term I shouldn't have, but a normal person couldn't recognize terminology used by some dude on an imageboard, especially one as unpopur as mine. "What you're hoping for is very nice, it'd mean I could reunite with my father as he was all those years ago."

  "But you don't believe it's true."

  "No, as I said, transportation of matter at the speed of light or faster is impossible. Unlikely as it is, my theory is in the realm of possibility."

  "But you don't believe it's true either." She's been weakly positing this theory of hers, and considering her prior speech about being a hypocrite like me, she's bound to have something she thinks is true, but dislikes.

  Amagami for the first time looks at me with surprise, her big blue eyes widen, eyebrows raised. I curse my awful social skills, but my skills as an investigator and researcher have lead me to have a keen eye. "If this is the theory you believed was what happened, you wouldn't be defending it so vehemently. You don't think your dad's information was transferred to another pce, it's what you wish were the case, as apposed to what you 'know' to be the truth."

  Amagami's smile fades, curling her lips into a pouting scowl, her brows furrowed. "I walked into that, considering my prying." Despite this, she seems like her ego was bruised in some way, her emotions came through. She once again puts on that sad smile once more, and wordlessly continues our ascent. Tentatively, I follow, staying just behind her, looking up at her back.

  "You're right, I know for a fact my father wasn't whisked away to some alternate world." She continues upwards, a heaviness to her being, a palpable sadness clinging onto her every word. "It's a nice dream. One I don't bme you for imagining yourself." My protesting gave it away, it seems. She knows that this is a theory I subscribe to now.

  "What do you think happened?"

  "Not trying to deny it, hm?" She looks back at me, a weak expression. "Typically prideful of you." Does she think she knows me this well that she knows what's typical of me?

  "He killed himself."

  "What? But his room was locked, it was empty, you said so."

  "It was obvious, even when it just happened. He exited the room, likely by locking the door behind him, I left while I was peacefully sleeping. Creating the illusion that he was safe in his room, while he was off to end his own life." She looks forward, towards the pin concrete wall."How could he do that without you finding out?" "Are you aware how hard it is to find a corpse at sea?" Her question is so clinical, cold. I feel my heart stop, what is she suggesting?

  "Are you saying he waded into the ocean to kill himself?" My eyes are so wide I feel my lids straining, my blood feels ice cold in my veins.

  "Yes." Her answer is blunt, abrupt even, like it was just a matter of a fact that could be pinly stated. How cold has Amagami's heart become? Those pale blue eyes don't reflect a calm sky, they are windows into a deep, frigid sea. Not a drop of hope, just cold, pin, unforgiving logic. I want to argue, I know it's what's right.

  There's a chance he's still out there somewhere! He wouldn't do that do that to you! It's a mistake! A misunderstanding! Why, why would a dad do that to his own daughter?!

  Ta gueule.

  That's why you're here. That isn't why you do this either. Do you think you can help her? You? How rich coming from you. That's not why you're here, not why you do ANY of this. You didn't spend your summer documenting those cases out of the goodness of your heart, you did it to have it be seen. That's all. You can't help anyone, not her, not him, not even yourself. You're obsessed with the truth, because you were told yours was mistaken.

  You can never help her. This sad girl, with eyes like the deep cold of the sea, will always be sad. Her dad is off in the same dimension as him, and you have no proof for that. She'll spend the rest of her life knowing that truth as you do yours, that's you're a hypocrite.

  We make the corner, moving onto the st set of stairs. "That's the reality, I'm here because I want to see the papers from that date. It makes sense, right?" She turns to me, her skirt flowing as she spins in pce, her eyes peering deep into mine. "But that's not my hope. My very idiotic hope, is that my dad's off in some other pce due to some unknown phenomenon." What is she on? She knows her dad killed himself, so why pretend?

  Like you pretend that you have some chance of seeing him again?

  "I know, it's entirely impossible. I know that I'm merely deluding myself, using Quantum mechanics to expin a situations I never could, clinging to the rules of Superposition to expin away a disappearing injury, clinging to the idea that my father was impnted into another pce via Teleportation." She has this airy look to her, a yer of warmth over a freezing cold breeze. Or, maybe it's the other way around, she's so contradictory, I feel like I can never unravel the conundrum that is Amagami Ikue. Is the cat a Kuudere pretending to be Deredere, or is it a Deredere masquerading as a Kuudere. I'd put my bet on, absolute mess pretending to be... well, not pretending.

  "By your confused look, you're wondering if you can ever unravel just who I am." Hey don't look at what I'm thinking! "I just revealed that I know my father killed himself, showed you the desote cold that is my heart." One side of her, obscured by the dead bulb, just on one side of the red 8 behind her. "But I also just said that I hope he isn't, I'm clinging to a scientific improbability despite being so desperate to cling to logic." The other, warm orange engulfs her, inviting, the 8 looks almost pink, not unlike her hair in some lights.

  "You're a hypocrite." I put it bluntly.

  "As are you. You so desperately are hiding why it is you're here. Acting like you don't want to hear my sad story, but I see right through you. Through your clothes." Don't ruin the moment you pervert. "Through that closed door, is someone hiding what they want."

  "What do you think I want, exactly?"

  "No idea, what do you want?"

  What do I want? I want to know about the hidden cases of Vanished, so I can leave, and never see this stupid library again. So I can forget the monster that ripped my arm off. So I can know I'm not crazy.

  "I don't know." What the hell am I saying? I don't know? I just id out what I want, tell her!

  "Is what you want in these records, like what I want?"

  "No."

  Amagami simply smiles, looking at me warmly. "Then you do know, you just don't want to admit it. Or rather... you don't think it's right for you." She tilts her head, now fully engulfed in light.

  What the hell is she on about? Maybe I'm just too afraid to open up to someone about why I do what I do. What started my obsession. I'm not here to help anyone, especially not myself.

  "Maybe what you want is to unravel me." She says, tapping her foot on the ground anxiously. "How perverted, undressing me with your eyes." In your dreams you nutcase! "I want to unravel you."

  "You just called me a pervert for that, what about you?"

  "Not like that." She says, sighing gently, her cat-like grin painted on her face. "I find you interesting, and I just want to understand why you're here too." Too? She still wants to know why I want the records it seems. "I guess you could say I'm interested in the poorly formatted equation that is Redman." Why is it poorly formatted, exactly?

  Misery enjoys company, I guess. Peas in a pod as the saying goes in English. "I hope you're wrong!" I blurt out, nearly spitting just to get the words out.

  "Me too." She extends her long left arm out, the cloth of her jacket loosely hanging from her wrist. I reach out, and grab her hand, pulling myself up the st few steps, reaching that st ptform. What a weird person Amagami is. Hey pot, I think there's a saying that pertains to you and kettle.

  Floor 8, the very floor I so desperately descended, ascended, bled, and cmbered for. Just a door away. Amagami doesn't let me waste any time, reaching out and grabbing the iron handle, yanking on it, and pulling it wide open.

  A blinding white light floods the stairwell, assaulting my retinas with a dull burning pain, the dark ever changing lights of this stairwell were what I was used to, after all. I forgot what time it was, I've been saving up on phone battery ever since I lost service. I blink rapidly, squinting as I stare forward, should have brought sungsses I guess.

  Inside is what I can only describe is a Cathedral. An impossibly tall room, pale white marble, no, linoleum covers every wall, every pilr, even the arches of the ceiling are the same stark color. Where pews should be, are rows upon rows of shelves, filled with heavy tomes and preserved papers wrapped in pstic, sat upon dull gray metal shelves. I look up, to my horror, there's even more on the balcony above, this pce is a bibliophile's paradise. Or history-phile, considering these are all records of news.

  It seems my trip to the library has become a sort of divine comedy, she must be the Virgil to my Dante then. Or maybe she's the boulder and I'm Sisyphus, considering how difficult she is. Heaven, the pce I so desperately searched for, I escaped the Buddhist Kasutra into the Judeo-Chritian afterlife. Or not.

  "Tusita." The heaven of enlightenment in Buddhism, where the Bodhisattava reside before being reborn.

  "You don't look cheery enough to be Maitreya, Man-kun. Or should I say, Mantreya?" Don't call me that. That was awful by the way.

  We step inside, the hallowed halls of the overwhelming knowledge held inside of the Manabe library, the pce Amagami's father loved so dearly, the pce dedicated to his wife. To her.

  We walk down the central aisle, our footsteps ccking loudly on the floor below us, the white glow engulfing us. Wait a minute isn't this position usually reserved for a bride to walk down?

  "You're blushing."

  "Shut up!" I'm losing my cool, damn this nervous heart of mine. Rex, she's your research partner for the time being, until you can record every st detail from the records pertaining to the Vanished in Manabe, then you can leave and never see her again.

  Yeah. Enjoy this while you can, having someone almost as obsessed as you.

  "I never came here before today..." Amagami admits, candidly. "I hated this pce for what it did to my father, and while he was in charge, we simply never had the time for a father-daughter outing to daddy's work..." She jokes, jabbing me in the elbow with hers.

  "Sorry to hear that."

  "Don't be. I'm sure I'd be making my father rightfully stressed if he knew I was taking a boy my age to his special pce, especially one who wanted me as carnally as you do."

  "Amagami-san, wake up, you're dreaming again."

  "Eh? I am? Are you sure about that?" Yes! I am! We reach the center, surrounded completely by rows upon rows of records of old, and most confusingly, new. Just by peering into one, I can see a file dated for this year, someone's been keeping this pce up to date. How exactly, with how haunted it is with anomalies?

  "We should begin here, you can start your search for.. whatever it is you want. I'll follow you as we work down to the day my father disappeared."

  "That's going to take forever, you should just look for your records yourself."

  "How cruel..." What did I do this time? "Maybe I want this to take forever." Oh. If she waits, she can hang onto that hope for the time being. That possibility that her father is out there. The cat is either alive or dead, might as well wait to open it for a little.

  "Alright." I nod, looking deep into those azure eyes.

  "Thanks." She points off to a particur shelf. I turn, and see that it's first file reads just a week ago from today. "Let's start there, then. An-"

  SPLAT

  Warm liquid sptters onto my back, where Amagami was standing, absolutely covering me from behind. I hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, hard. "D-don't turn..." I hear Amagami weakly mutter, from where she nded. "D-don't look back... J-just g-get out..."

  Lapce's demon. A theoretical being able to observe everything position and motion, regardless of space and time. An impossibility in reality, as it relies on the ws of scientific determinism, which Quantum Mechanics do not abide by. But, if a being could exist like that, it would still abide by the ws of it's own positioning. But as I stated, with the constant and ever changing state of the universe, determinism is completely impossible. An infinite amount of possible outcomes could occur for a single atom in a universe so vast it will never be fully measured.

  In that case, what is behind me isn't Lapce's demon. What just attacked Amagami isn't Lapce's creation either, it's worse. It's a being that can truly see the preferred outcome of it's intended target, ignoring all others to fulfill its mission. It hunted me despite us moving to another possibility, despite being 3 behind from where I was. A being that obeys not the ws of the universe, denies the rules of Quantum Mechanics, only existing via human cognition.

  A true demon, a being that can see that the cat is both alive and dead at the same time. An enforcer of determinism in a world cking such a concept inherently. The ruler of my Hell, my Naraka, the deliverer of punishment to sinners.

  Narakasura.

  If I observe Amagami now, I'll see how she's wounded. If I run, find some way to find her ter and convince myself that she's not hurt we can run. But is that what I should be concerned about? Why should I even run? I deserve it, I couldn't save him. I can't save anyone, especially not myself!

  But as I told Amagami, "AAAAAAAAAHGK!"

  I'm a hypocrite.