"Goshujin," Rio instructed, intoning as a chant. "Dream big. Push away the world. See things as they are."
Hank replied using a different tone. "I'm trying, Bidi Butt, but mumbo-jumbo doesn't work on me. I'm just a normal guy. I need a real approach."
Rio squirmed against his side, squelching the urge to curse. "Okay then. Try this. Milton sends blue butterflies, you see, to help find a way. It's how I came here."
"A butterfly sent you?"
Rio could squelch no longer. "Yeah, yeah. Sōda ne, bakatare. A butterfly in my safe room told me to come to you."
"You have a safe room?"
She now resisted an urge to punch him in the side. Instead, she pressed a finger to his chest. "You bet, Loverboy. You sicced bad guys on me when you left. So I had to hide."
He grumbled as a prelude to disagreeing about his responsibility for her predicament, so she relented by cuddling closer. "Just be receptive, hai? You'll know when you see it."
He surveyed the lobby from over her head. "How about something like that?" he asked while stroking her hair.
She turned in the direction he was staring. "Nani? Wa mienai," she said. "I don't see."
He gave a nod to guide her further. "Right there. It's a boy."
Rio pried Hank’s hand off her head to twist around and better face in the direction of his gaze. A little boy, dressed bright and cheery in a jumper, played all by himself while toddling through the crowd. Although barely able to walk due to his tender age, he flitted through the throngs of people without a care or worry, singing nonsense to himself.
Rio dug the tips of her sharp nails into Hank's palm due to exuberance. She giggled a cute apology when he squeaked with surprise. For it wasn't the boy that Rio took much notice in, as it was the toy he played with as he sang.
At the end of a short stick, a big blue paper butterfly hung from a colored string.
Rio bounced on her butt with joy. “Oh, God! Hank-sama! Yes! He is here!"
Hank expressed concern. "How is a child going to help save the world?"
“Ach hai! You still don’t get it.” Rio dug a fingernail into Hank’s palm again, this time doing so on purpose. “Did you feel that?” she asked.
He nodded absently, staying transfixed on the boy.
“How? You weren’t looking. Do you know it was your hand, or if it was me?"
She dug in two nails next. “Ouch,” Hank said, looking at her crossly. “It’s you, and, yeah, that’s me you stabbed.”
“It is, my sweet, because now you pay attention." She spoke next of the boy. "He is our new Reality and is of your hand. There is no difference. It is you. Wakatta?”
"Not a bit," Hank said without pause.
“The boy comes with good Reality to show we're not alone. We are now together, and will be shown the way."
“Okay,” Hank said, for the sake of agreement. He fidgeted under duress, from the freakish nature of RMing.
Rio patted his hand in sympathy, knowing how he felt. “Shush,” she cooed. “Okay. Clear your mind and let him in. I let myself in, and look what you have done.”
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He turned his attention back to the boy, having so much fun. Although at times the boy would disappear behind other people, his toy was always visible. A titter of his laughter floated on the air, much like the butterfly he held, hanging on a stick. Upon hearing it, Rio craned her neck and smiled, looking up into the forest of Hank's chocolate brown eyelashes.
“You did that,” she said it as a matter of fact.
“I did,” he agreed.
"Good. Have him show the way. Let him make you laugh."
Hank thought about the mix of people he now had as friends. All ethnicities, all ages. All personalities and all types. And now a tiny boy. He toddled through the crowd, walking a random path, until he drew near.
"You need boo butterfly!" he proclaimed to Rio, having trouble pronouncing his 'Ls.'
"I do?" Rio asked, playing along.
"Hi!" he said to no one, his smile showing pearly baby teeth. He danced with his toy on a string, singing a nonsense song.
"Hi! Hi!"
"I really like your toy," Rio said.
He thrust it in her face. "Boo butterfly!"
"Does 'boo butterfly' have a name?"
"Cho-cho!"
Rio smiled big, causing the boy to do so in kind, exposing more teeth.
"I know someone named Cho. She's a butterfly too."
"Cho-cho!" The toddler said again.
"My friend is Aika-cho. Can you say Aika-cho?"
"Aika-cho!"
"That's right. And she is beautiful too, just like your butterfly."
The boy thrust the toy at Rio. "Boo-ti-foo butterfly!" He used his tiny hands to pry open one of Rio's. "You have boo butterfly!" he announced, placing the stick in Rio's hand.
Rio bowed with honor, still seated on the settee. "I do. Domo. Thank you very much."
"Cho-cho! Aika-cho!" the boy sang, flitting away before Rio could say or do anything. "Aika-cho!"
A thunderclap struck inside Hank's brain, causing Reality to change. "Oh my," he said. "I see it."
"Where?" Rio asked, looking around.
"Right there," he said, unmoving, his eyes fixed on the triage station.
The clipboards Sehrish hung on the glass walls of her booth had codes written on their backs, indicating the location of the patient in the lobby. As she moved the clipboards around, handing them out and hanging up new ones, the coded backsides facing Hank also ebbed and flowed. For a long moment in time, however, two rows of clipboards remained, unchanged and centered on the wall.
They spelled an odd phrase.
HELVETICA
409 4:15
Staring at the clipboards, Rio saw nothing odd. "What do you see?" she asked.
He panned his finger in the air at the cryptic message. "I know what that means," he mumbled, processing the information.
Rio went from staring at the clipboards to staring at Hank. "Tell me what you see!"
Hank opened his mouth to speak, but a rumble brewed instead. Deep and resonating, it took precedent over all. People spoke in hushed tones about it, then in a panic, and then in screams.
"Earthquake!" someone cried, as the glass-walled booth caved in.
"Sehrish!" Hank cried out in kind, rushing to her aid.
The glass walls didn't shatter, and the booth, although destroyed, remained largely intact. She escaped the wreckage without harm as the rumbling continued, causing further panic.
"It's far away!" she said of the earthquake, having to yell at Hank over the din of the crowd. "But we should still leave the building, before something falls on our heads."
He agreed, and the two of them began ushering out people who weren't already moving toward the exit. Rio caught up with them, but was more interested in the message.
"Tell me what you saw!" she yelled over the crowd.
"Not now, Rio. Please. We'll talk about it later."
"No!" She grabbed him by an arm to make him look at her. "This is the work of bad RMers. They pick a fight with you!"
"I will deal with them. Right now I'm helping Sehrish."
"Ach hai!" Rio hollered, closing her eyes to deal with the situation in a different way.
The rumbling soon stopped. When Rio opened her eyes, she found Hank staring down at her.
"Yeah, you big dum-dum," she said. "That's me Preventing it."
"Okay," Hank said before sighing, as the freakish duress returned. "Well then, thank you, I guess."
Along with other members of the staff, Sehrish continued ushering people out of the building. Hank just stared at Rio.
"I wish I knew how you did that," he admitted.
Rio became loving. "And I wish I knew how a great RMer as you remains oblivious."
From nervous habit, he tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, slouching while avoiding eye contact. "I guess perhaps, it may be what makes me so great."
Rio disagreed. "It makes you annoying."
"Yeah. Well Sehrish needs our help. She's quelling a riot here."
"It still is a distraction, to make you not do what is right."
"What's right is helping these people."
"Let those who do not RM help. You must stop bad guys." She looked at the boy's toy, still grasped in her hand. "Now tell me what you saw."
A recorded message blared over the hospital's PA system, at a volume loud enough to defeat all conversation.
A TSUNAMI WARNING HAS BEEN ISSUED. ALL OCCUPANTS OF THIS BUILDING ARE REQUIRED TO SEEK HIGHER FLOORS IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT EXIT THE BUILDING. DO NOT STAY ON THE FIRST OR SECOND FLOOR. SEEK HIGHER FLOORS IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS A TSUNAMI WARNING.
After a delay of several seconds, the message repeated itself. As panic grew to chaos, anger welled in Hank's brown eyes.