A longer gap of about ten seconds occurred after the tsunami warning repeated, allowing for normal conversation. The staff of nurses and doctors did their best to turn the crowd around, getting them to stop leaving the hospital and now head up the stairs. Rio used the precious time to seek guidance from Hank. She stood close and unblinking, waiting for him to speak.

"Why are they doing this?" he raged, angling his head up to hold in hot tears.

She gently touched his hand to get him to lower his gaze. "They will kill us all, just to get to you."

A droplet fell from his gorgeous eyes as he looked down upon her, landing on her wrist. "But why? What have I done?"

"You are goshujin, Hank-sama. Master of our Reality. End this and save us from evil."

The tsunami warning began again, barring conversation. "You're right!" Hank yelled at the top of his lungs before bolting for an unused emergency exit in a corner of the lobby.

Rio tried chasing after him, but was crushed by an onslaught of people, most of them taller and heavier. By the time she had elbowed her way past, he was already long gone.

Sehrish appeared before Rio, placing herself in the way. She waited for the blare of the warning to end. During the silence that followed, she spoke in a normal tone.

"You've got to help me get these people up the stairs. Find some who are able-bodied, and use that staircase over there to take them to the fifth floor."

Rio was ready to push her way past, but Sehrish was too big to shove. "Please," Sehrish begged. "People are getting trampled. There are families with little children."

Rio looked at the butterfly toy she still held in her hand. She noticed the toddler who owned it, with the parents of his large family struggling to keep everyone together. Panic swelled around them when the tsuanmi warning began again.

Sehrish barked out an order. "Help these people up those stairs! I have to turn off the alarm!"

She re-entered her damaged glass booth and searched for a way to stop the recording. The crowd stampeded harder, and Rio took pity on the toddler and his family. She drew near and got their attention.

The little boy's father struggled with a crying baby in his arms and a diaper bag on his shoulder. "The End of Days is here," he lamented to Rio.

"Hai," Rio agreed, smiling at him sadly. "Let me help."

The toddler noticed his toy still clutched in Rio's hand. "You have boo butterfly!" he announced with cheer, oblivious to the panic.

Rio bent low and smiled more genuine for the boy. "I do. And I am saving it for you. Will you follow me with blue butterfly?"

"Yeah!"

Sehrish turned off the recording and stepped out of her booth. "We are heading to higher floors!" she boomed at the crowd. "The elevators are reserved for people who can't walk. Everyone else must use the stairs!"

Rio took the toddler's hand and spoke to his mom and dad. "Let me show you the way."

Once Rio was sure of their safety, she returned to the chaos in the lobby and herded more people upstairs. After about ten minutes, she took a moment of time for herself. She stared at her phone, wishing Hank hadn't lost his.

The toddler appeared before her, holding his hands cupped together. "I have new boo for you!" he announced.

"Oh," Rio said with distraction, wondering what to do.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The little boy danced on his toes, raising his cupped hands to her face. His mother approached, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I want to thank you," she said to Rio. "You've been so helpful toward us."

Rio gave a polite head bow. "It is nothing really," she said. "Dō itashimashite."

"Ah!" the mother said. "You're Japanese?"

"Hai," Rio said with her head still bowed. "Rio-san," she said next, raising her gaze while introducing herself.

"Ah," the mother repeated, this time showing confusion. "Doesn't Rio mean river in Spanish?"

"Hai. But in Japan it means cherry blossom."

The mother smiled warmly. "That's beautiful! Such a pretty name."

Rio bowed again. "Dōmo," she said. "Thank you very much."

"Boo butterfly!" the toddler said, raising his cupped hands higher.

The mother patted her son. "Michael has something for you," she said. "It's for helping us up the stairs."

Rio bent to be at the boy's level. "Is your name Michael?" she asked.

The boy nodded with vigor as his mother answered the question. "We try calling him Mike, but he insists on being called Michael."

"Michael has new boo for you!" he announced to Rio's close face.

"Michael is also a beautiful name. It means you are God's angel."

"Well, he is certainly our little angel," his mom said. "He means the world to us."

"What do you have?" Rio asked.

The boy opened his hands, being sure to keep them together. Inside, a giant silk moth spread its brown-eyed wings.

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"You need boo butterfly!" The boy proclaimed, happy and quite loud.

"Yes, I do," Rio agreed. "I need him very much."

"Aika-cho!" the boy said next.

"He's been calling his toy that," the mother explained. "Ever since he got it back from you."

Rio blinked to hold back giant tears. "Aika-cho is my friend," she explained. "She… she didn't make it through today."

The mother put her hand on Rio's shoulder. "Oh my. I'm so very, very sorry."

"That's okay," Rio said to the boy, as his smile made it easier for her to do the same. "Himushi makes everything better."

"Himushi?" the mother asked.

"Himushi means moth in Japanese. That's a big himushi," Rio said to the boy.

"Hank-mooshi!" he exclaimed, mangling the word.

Rio could no longer hold back her tears. They splashed onto the moth, which took to flight towards the ceiling. It found an open air vent and disappeared inside.

"I'm sorry," the mother said. "He seems to have left for the moment."

Rio spoke to the boy. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be okay."

Rio again stared at her phone. "Moshi moshi," she said when it rang.

It was Odeya calling. Like she had done with Aika, she didn't bother saying hello. "My child," Odeya began. "Expiate us from sin."

"How?" Rio asked.

"Don't interrupt," Odeya chastised. "We have come to know him, and through him, love is perfect. By his hand, we are saved. Guided down the path he's chosen, we bathe in the light, while those who sow hate falter."

"We're talking about Hank? Tadashī?"

"Beloved! I do not command thee! I call because you're strong. Servitude abounds in thee, as you've triumphed evil many times."

"But sensai. I don't know what to do."

"Do not covet the things of this world. They are of the passing, and with them is lust. Winter approaches like a storm, and darkness will hold back the sun. But we have been annointed! Our summer is eternal! We shall never die!"

Rio fumbled on an apology. "But… ah. He has left. He's gone, and I don't know where."

"Ach und vey," Odeya grumbled. She seemed distracted for a moment. "Sometimes, you drive me mishuge."

Rio's phone beeped, signalling she'd received a text. Upon opening it, she found Odeya had sent a screenshot of her television. The news of the day's tragedies continued, but not with scenes of the riot. Instead, the television showed Hank standing alone on the large dais outside the train and subway station. The camera angle was high and far, as if being filmed from a nearby roof. He appeared to be wandering aimlessly, unsure of where to go or what to do.

"You're not with him and he needs protection," Odeya said.

She sent another screenshot. This one showed a close-up of Hank standing by a stairwell leading into the ground. In the morning, rioters had come up these stairs, the blood of Aika dripping fresh and raw from their hands. Now the stairs stood empty and deserted as the city awaited a tsunami.

A large sign hung over his head. The word 'Subway' was written on it, along with an arrow pointing down. Also on the sign was a three digit number, placed in the lower left corner and written in a small font. On most days, the significance of the number mattered only to maintenance workers, telling them what sign this was, out of the hundreds the city employed. Today, however, the number also held meaning for Hank. And now, for Rio as well.

The maintenance number for the sign was 409. Both it and the word 'Subway' were written in Helvetica font.

"They're saying he's a terrorist," Odeya informed Rio. "That he brought down the plane that crashed. A SWAT team is in position, surrounding him as we speak. Soon they will attack."

Rio looked at a clock. It said the time was 4:03 in the afternoon. In twelve minutes it would be 4:15.

She didn't bother with saying goodbye, hanging up and racing outside.