2 – September 23rd (Saturday) – Second time

Make sure to read No. 407 of the Script carefully.

After having that message relayed to him from Nonō Seika, Kei read through the play’s script countless times, but the number 407 just didn’t seem to fit anywhere. He tried counting everything from letters to lines to punctuation marks, but none of it led to anything.

The following day was September 23rd, and at 12:30 PM, Kei yawned loudly as he headed to a small nearby park. He just hadn’t been able to get any good sleep the prior night. He rubbed the tears from his eyes that had sprung up from yawning, looking up at the sky. The sky was a nice pale blue, and the sunlight was strong, but it wasn’t anywhere near as hot outside as it would have been in mid-summer. Even in long sleeves, he still felt quite comfortable.

The park he had in mind was on the eastern side of Sakurada, right by Nanasaka Junior High. If he walked just a little further ahead he would reach the seashore. Once he entered the park, he found two little boys playing on the swings, but more importantly, Haruki Misora.

She was sitting on a bench with a stack of printed papers on her lap, but quickly noticed Kei’s approach, pulling her head up. “Good day, Kei.”

“Afternoon. Think you got the acting chops for it?” He looked pointedly down at the papers in Haruki’s lap. It was Minami’s script.

Haruki blinked twice before answering. “I am somewhat uncertain. I was unable to memorize a majority of my lines.”

“Hm. Well then, next time we’ll practice together.” Most of the lines were dialogue, so getting performance practice would undoubtedly help them with memorization.

Haruki smiled hesitantly. “ I am very grateful for the offer, but, Kei… you already have all of your lines memorized.”

“Well, that’s just in memory.” Kei could never forget anything he saw. More specifically, he had a special ability that allowed him to remember everything he experienced in perfect and accurate detail. “Whether I can actually act ‘em out is a completely different prospect.”

After a short silence, Haruki nodded. “Very well, then. I will be entrusting you with that following the end of our Service Club work.”

“Mhm.”

Kei and Haruki were meeting at the park as part of their instructions by the Administration Bureau to enter the dream of a woman asleep in the hospital. The hospital in question was directly behind the park.

Kei figured that it was likely the hospital was staffed with several Bureau agents, though he couldn’t prove it. It seemed to him that several people with ability-related problems ended up in that hospital one way or another. He had met a girl two years prior born from another woman’s ability who received regular checkups at that very establishment.

“Shall we get going?” Haruki asked.

Kei shook his head. “I wanna save before we head in there. Let’s give it another 15 minutes.” Their last reset had sent them to just the day before, at 12:47 PM. He had just about 15 minutes before the 24-hour mark passed, giving Haruki the freedom to make another save. “Oh, right. We have to wait for Nonō-san to get here anyway.”

Haruki tilted her head slightly. “Why would she be coming here?”

“Evidently there’s someone she wants to meet within the dream.”

Kei took a seat next to Haruki. The bench was in the shade, making it somewhat cool to the touch. He took a look at the world around him, seeing how the shades of fall were slowly painting over the summer colors. The leaves on the tree above him had turned to a deeper, calmer shade of green.

As Haruki spread out her script, Kei asked, “So, what’d you think of the play?”

“I did not understand it very well.”

“Hm.”

“What were your thoughts on it, Kei?”

“Well, I have a hard time judging it objectively, but I thought it was pretty interesting.”

“What was interesting about it?”

“How it was structured. But it’s not really the kind of thing you can put into words.”

The story featured a female protagonist and her male love interest. The love interest went through some kind of difficult event years prior, and had lost all of his emotions. Or at least, that was the public perception of him. But the female lead held on to her strong conviction that he still had emotions. She knew they were there, but just hidden away in an unseen place. So she approached her love interest like she was digging into completely dry ground, with full faith that she would strike a vein of water underneath.

This whole story is written directly for Haruki Misora.

Minami had most certainly been watching Haruki closely, and modeled a character to match her. But not the female lead, who Haruki was playing. Rather, she was modeled by the boyfriend character. Haruki was meant to perform onstage with the character that reflected herself.

Kei imagined that Minami had written the script to show what she saw when she looked at Haruki, and give Haruki that personal impression. That being the case, Kei knew it would be bad form to just explain it all to her.

Haruki Misora tilted her head. “Do you think I will be capable of appreciating what makes it so interesting as well?”

Kei nodded with complete confidence. “Yup. I just know you’ll pick it up fast.”

Haruki looked his way, smiled, and dropped her eyes back to the script.

Kei decided to kill some time watching her profile. The wind whistled by, fluttering the script in her hands, as if trying to pull it away into the sky.

This park takes me back.

Kei thought back to what had happened two years prior. Haruki had met the girl named Mari in the very park they sat in. It was the place that had begun Haruki’s long process of making the decision to open up to her own feelings.

Haruki suddenly looked up from reading. “It is somewhat difficult to read with you staring at me like that.”

The last two years had truly changed so much in Haruki for her to be able to make that kind of comment. Her eyes were just as lovely as they had always been, lustrous as jewels, and yet Kei knew there was now a glimmer of real emotion behind them.

“Ah, my bad,” Kei apologized, smiling. He shifted his weight, leaning his back into the bench.

The two little boys who had been playing on the swings suddenly shot out of the park. Following the boys, Kei saw a long-haired girl, Nonō Seika, walking towards them.

✽

After saving right around 12:50, the three walked into the hospital.

The front entrance was closed, as it seemed the hospital didn’t accept new patients on Saturdays. They instead entered through a small door in the back of the building. It was like a secret entrance hiding away in the shadows.

Once in the door, Kei spotted a security guard’s office to their immediate right, complete with a reception window. It was a small office, small enough that Kei figured he could stand with his arms outstretched and touch both walls. A man who looked to be in his mid-fifties sat in the office on a metal chair, reading a newspaper. Kei recognized the name of the paper as a popular economics outlet.

They informed the security guard of their business, making sure to drop the name of the doctor they had been previously introduced to. The guard then made a short phone call, told them to wait there, and spread his newspaper back open. It was almost like his real job was to read the papers.

Kei leaned against the wall and stared up at the ceiling, stifling a yawn. The ceiling was white, but he could see a stain in the corner. The hospital didn’t look particularly new.

“Have you ever been hospitalized before?” Nonō Seika asked him.

“Just once, when I was real little. I had pneumonia,” Kei answered.

“Oh. I’ve never been hospitalized, myself.”

“I can’t really recommend it.” In Kei’s experience, being in a hospital only served as a constant reminder that you were unwell. Every single part of the hospital was uniformly white, and it was all clean, but felt so unlived in. It was like looking at clean water under a microscope, being unable to find even a single fleck or impurity. “The whole time I was in the hospital, all I could think about was redecorating the place.”

“Redecorating?”

“Yup. The room would’ve been a heck of a lot nicer with some light green curtains and some nice, deep brown comforters.”

“Anything else?”

“That was all I had. After all, I was reading my book in a bed next to the curtains.”

Following slightly more conversation of that nature, a man in a white coat showed up in the hallway. He was tall and rather young. “Are you all from the Service Club?”

Kei nodded in response. Technically, Nonō wasn’t part of the Service Club, but there was no need to go into detail about that.

The doctor bent his mouth grumpily, muttering, “Every single time I asked, I was told there would be two.”

The decision to include Nonō had only been made the night before. Kei had contacted the Bureau after making lists of possible excuses and bargaining points, only for The Index to brashly state, “My superior has instructed to allow you to do as you please.”

Kei tilted his head. “Is there a problem with increasing the number?”

“The Administration Bureau has allowed it, so it’s not a matter of principle. But there is a very simple issue.”

“What would that be?”

“We only prepared two beds.”

Naturally, they would be entering the dream world by falling asleep.

Nonō met Haruki’s eyes, then spoke. “It’s fine. I’ll share with her.” Haruki nodded beside her.

The doctor examined both of them, then turned to Kei. “Very well. If you’ll follow me, then.” He whipped around, striding down the hallway.

Kei quickly followed suit, throwing a question at the doctor’s back. “How is Katagiri-san doing?”

Katagiri Honoka was the name of the woman who remained in an endless sleep inside the hospital. According to the documentation, she was 23 years old, an area of age that Kei wasn’t very familiar with.

The doctor’s response was given with perfect calm. “Her condition has remained stable, just as it has for the last nine years of her slumber. She could die tomorrow, or she could live another ten years, and neither outcome would be more likely than the other.”

“Will she ever regain consciousness?”

“That’s hard to say. Statistically speaking, her chances are quite low. In cases like hers where a patient remains in a coma, the longer they stay asleep, the less likely that they will awaken. Nine years puts her in a rather hopeless situation.” Even his delivery of the word “hopeless” was completely flat and empty. Perhaps being a doctor meant becoming familiar with such terminology.

“Is it normal for people to have dreams in a coma?” Kei probed.

“That depends on the situation. Particularly, it depends on where the brain was damaged. In her case, she has a rather large area of activity.” The doctor stopped in front of the elevator, glancing over at Kei. “She may not be able to open her eyes, but she is still thinking.” He pressed the call button.

The elevator door opened, and all four of them entered. Kei noted how large the elevator was, likely designed for holding patients in a bed. The doctor pressed an unmarked button above the “3” button. Logically, it should have had a 4 on it, but evidently the floor was not commonly used. The door closed, and the elevator began ascending.

“Have you ever been allowed inside her dream, doctor?” Kei asked.

The doctor shook his head. “No. I applied, but was not granted permission.”

“I assume you went through the Administration Bureau?”

“Of course. The Administration Bureau had only just found out about her ability and isolated her within this hospital when I came in on staff. Even her own family had a difficult time coming in to visit her. The only people allowed within her dream are a select few Administration Bureau staff and those they otherwise permit.”

“Is this Katagiri person’s ability all that dangerous?” Nonō chimed in.

The ability to generate a world entirely from within a dream.

The doctor lowered his eyes slightly. “If nothing else, the Administration Bureau has determined that her ability poses a problem.”

The elevator stopped, and the door opened. In front of the new corridor they faced was a window, letting in the dazzling light of the blue sky. Kei squinted, suddenly realizing how dark the previous corridors they had been walking through were.

The woman’s ability posed a problem.

Walking behind the doctor, Kei remarked, “A One-Handed Eden.”

The Administration Bureau used several evaluators to categorize abilities. They included duration, range, strength, impact on society, and lasting effects. A One-Handed Eden was a term that both categorized an ability while also defining the problem it posed. Katagiri Honoka’s ability belonged to that classification.

The doctor nodded. “Just as you say. A replica of happiness at the wave of your hand. An enclosed paradise, confined to your palm. A One-Handed Eden. Any ability with that level of power is dangerous in the Administration Bureau’s eyes.”

“Aren’t you part of the Administration Bureau?”

“Technically, no. I’m just cooperating alongside them. But that’s not really all that important.”

The doctor stopped at the end of the corridor, facing an imposing, white door with the heavy build of a fire door. He inserted keys into each of its two locks before pushing it open.

The corridor continued onwards, though it was much darker due to a lack of windows. Another elevator stood on the right wall, much smaller than the one they had just been on. Beside it was a keypad with numbers lined up on it. It seemed the elevator wouldn’t operate without the input of a PIN code.

“She’s another floor up,” the doctor commented.

Kei couldn’t help but think how strict the security was. It only further aggravated his questions on how he had so easily obtained permission to get in the dream.

My superior has taken an interest in you. The Index had said as much during their meeting together.

Interest. A scary word. One that called for the greatest of caution. But what did he have to be cautious of, and what would that caution require of him? It certainly wouldn’t do to simply follow the instructions of the Bureau. He would miss out on his one opportunity to experiment on removing Souma from the dream world’s Sakurada.

The doctor entered a rather lengthy PIN combination, and the elevator door slid open. As they all entered, a question from Haruki sounded behind Kei.

“What is a One-Handed Eden?”

The doctor spoke up to answer. “She has complete control over the world within her dream. She could relieve the pain of someone in complete bodily suffering, or allow a patient with no control over their legs to run freely. As long as she willed it, it would happen in her dream.”

From a utilitarian standpoint, it was a net positive. Her ability could make people happy. But, of course, the problems stemming from it were all too easy to imagine.

The doctor continued, “She is effectively omnipotent within her dream world. But it was decided that humans should not take part in a world where a god simply grants all their desires for happiness. The Administration Bureau made that decision, and have disallowed contact with her.”

A One-Handed Eden. An easygoing paradise. Happiness at the wave of a hand.

Nonō quietly responded, “So, it’s nothing but a problem, even if it’s real happiness?”

The doctor chuckled in a low, cold voice. “The Administration Bureau has judged that happiness to be fake.”

Kei wondered who was truly able to distinguish between fake and real happiness, but didn’t put a voice to his thoughts.

Kei and his friends ended up being shown to a normal hospital room. White walls and white curtains surrounded two white beds.

It turned out that Katagiri Honoka was sleeping in the next room, and sleeping within a certain vicinity of her would still give access to her dream world. Their room was placed within that vicinity. That information was all quickly relayed to them by the doctor, who then saw himself out.

Once the door closed, Haruki placed her purse down on a metal folding chair. “This will be my first time sleeping with a skirt on.”

“Guess we shoulda brought a change of clothes,” Kei remarked. “I suppose this’ll be my first time sleeping next to a girl in a skirt.” Not to mention there would be two girls sleeping beside him. He figured it wouldn’t be wrong to think of it as a valuable experience.

Kei sat down in one of the beds, pulling off his shoes and socks. Haruki and Nonō similarly removed their socks in the bed beside him. It came to mind that it would be rude to stare too much, so he pulled the curtain between them closed.

He turned their way and spoke to the curtain. “I’m not too good at falling asleep very fast. I’ll probably be a bit behind you guys.”

Nonō’s voice answered him, already laced with drowsiness. “Should I wait for you?”

“Nah. We’ll end up going our separate ways before long anyway. You can head on out to the person you’re trying to see.”

“Gotcha. I’ll do my thing, then.”

On paper, Kei and Haruki were only entering the dream world as a part of their Service Club work. They wouldn’t have the time to both do their work and meet the Cat House Gramps.

Why’s that guy in the dream world, anyway?

From all accounts, it seemed that the Bureau had strictly prohibited anyone from entering the dream world. That being the case, the Cat House Gramps had to have had some kind of special permission.

It was concerning, but Kei figured his efforts would be better focused on trying to get some sleep. He hadn’t slept the previous night, so he was already drowsy, but he knew it’d take him some work to get to sleep regardless. “Well then, g’night.”

“Yeah, ‘night.”

“Good night.”

Their three voices echoed through the room.

Kei could hear small noises from the bed next to him. Trying not to pay it too much attention, he closed his eyes. The curtains were drawn, but the room was still quite bright, and even with his eyes closed, he still saw a reddish tinge. He knew he had to get to sleep, and quickly, but as long as he was thinking about sleeping, it wouldn’t happen. It was a problem he often faced in the middle of sleepless nights.

Some five minutes passed, and Haruki’s quiet voice sounded beside him. “Are you still awake, Kei?”

“Yup. Something wrong?”

“I have been considering your proposed redecorations.”

“Do you have the perfect color for the sheets?”

“I think the sheets are fine the way they are, but the room would look much better without any curtains at all.”

“I see.”

“Good night,” Haruki bid him once again. Kei replied to her in kind.

A short while later, he heard the slow, soft breathing of sleep from the bed beside him.

Kei knew he wouldn’t be getting to sleep for quite some time. He sighed, wondering if it would be a good idea to fill out a prescription for sleeping pills.

✽

He finally got to sleep after another 30 minutes or so.

Kei opened his eyes to find the same ceiling he had fallen asleep under. Even in his dream, he was in the same bed, surrounded by curtains. Voices sounded from behind the curtain.

“I’ll whip up some cake. Oh, and some wonderful tea, too!” It was a girl’s voice, one that he didn’t recognize.

Kei sat up, opening the curtain. Haruki was sitting on her bed, and a girl he didn’t know was sitting beside her on a metal folding chair. She was rather young, looking to be around Kei’s age, if not a bit younger. He looked around the rest of the room, but didn’t see Nonō, and figured she must have gone off to see the “Cat House Gramps” she had been talking about.

The girl in the chair was wearing a striped cutsew top underneath a short-sleeved cardigan, with dark blue knee socks and pumps. There was also a small bird with sky-blue plumage on her shoulder. It reminded Kei of a picture book he had read as a very young child, but he didn’t know the name of the bird from it.

The girl shifted her gaze towards Kei, and the blue bird similarly moved to look at him. “Welcome to the dream world. You must be Kei?”

Kei nodded. “Yes.”

The girl glanced back towards Haruki. “Misora’s been telling me all about you. You like sweets, right?”

“For the most part. I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m Mytyl,” she said with a smile. Her demeanor suggested that dropping that name alone was enough to explain the entire situation.

Kei was immediately assailed with suspicion. Is this girl… supposed to be Katagiri Honoka?

She certainly didn’t look to be 23 years old, but she was supposed to be omnipotent within her dream. Perhaps changing her appearance was entirely possible.

Knowing that just thinking about it wouldn’t change the facts, Kei opted for the honest route. “Are you… Katagiri Honoka-san?”

The girl cackled in amusement. “You’re a weird one. I told you I’m Mytyl. That doesn’t sound at all like Katahgeeri.”

“Then, do you know where I could find Katagiri-san?” Making contact with Katagiri Honoka was a top priority. Getting in good with the god of the dream world would make Kei’s experiment all that much easier to pull off.

But Mytyl shook her head, making the little blue bird slide off her shoulder. “Nope. I’ve never heard of Katahgeeri before.”

The little bird fluttered in the air, spinning round the hospital room. Kei followed it with his eyes, nodding. “I see.” Is she really telling the truth? He changed his question. “So, where exactly are we?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, this is just a hospital room.”

“No, I’m not talking about this room. I mean, what kind of place is the dream world?”

Mytyl cocked her head. “It’s a pretty normal place. There’s a blue sky when it’s sunny, it rains every now and again, there are convenience stores, and this hospital. ‘Bout the same as the outside world.”

“Are there any notable differences?”

“Sure, here and there. Nothing too significant. But there is one big difference. In this world, whatever you wish for will come true. For example–” Mytyl stood up and tapped the floor with her toes proudly, like she was wearing magical shoes. The small blue bird alighted on her head. “I can’t even stand up in real life, but here, I can run around, even fly if I want to! So, what do you wish for? I could get a reeeally big cake for you. Or chocolate? Ice cream? Cookies?”

“Well, cookies, I suppose.” Kei wasn’t really in the mood for cookies, but he wanted to figure out how the world functioned.

But instead of initiating a magical event, Mytyl just nodded. “Got it. I’ll ask Tyltyl for you.”

Tyltyl– Tyltyl and Mytyl. The protagonists of The Blue Bird play. A brother and sister who set off on a journey to search for the alleged Blue Bird of Happiness.

But there Mytyl was, right in front of them, already having found her Blue Bird. She smiled as it perched atop her head.

“And just who is Tyltyl?” Kei queried.

Mytyl chuckled. “Hehe. He’s my hero. He’s strong, smart, and capable, everything that a god should be. And he’s always here to protect me. I asked if I could become Tyltyl’s little sister, and he allowed it, so I’m Mytyl.”

The world’s god. That could only be Katagiri Honoka. But then, who was Mytyl? Were there other people in the dream world beside the Cat House Gramps?

Kei repeated the girl’s words. “You were allowed to become Tyltyl’s little sister, making you Mytyl?”

“Yup, exactly.”

“Then who were you before you were Mytyl? What’s your real name?”

Mytyl looked over at Kei, displeasure clear on her face. “My name is Mytyl. That is my real name.”

Kei put on the widest, most inoffensive smile he could manage. “I see, sorry for such a rude question.”

That was one of the problems of such an easygoing paradise. Anyone who entered would be trapped inside.

Mytyl’s face returned to a smile. “That’s okay. Everybody who comes here is like that at first. They think the real world is sooo important. That’s only ‘cause they don’t know how to escape it. So they just have to compromise and accept a blinf truth that their reality is best.”

“Sweet lemons, right?”

“Hm? What’s that?” Mytyl’s innocent eyes met with Kei’s.

“Well, in layman’s terms, it’s the psychological principle of believing what you have is wonderful.”

It served as an antithesis to Aesop’s fable of Sour Grapes. In the original fable, a fox wanted to eat the grapes that grew high up on a vine, but could never get to them. The fox wound up justifying to himself that the grapes were probably sour, and never worth eating in the first place. The fable served to show how people would be willing to give up on something they wanted by retroactively deeming it worthless.

Sweet lemons served as an example of the other extreme, how people can rationalize that what they currently have is valuable.

“You want a sweet fruit, but all you have is lemons. So you force yourself to believe that lemons are perfectly and wonderfully sweet.”

It was a way for people to protect what was important to them.

Mytyl nodded in satisfaction. “You’re totally right. Everyone knows that reality sucks big time. It’s nothing but sour, and they have to convince themselves it’s sweet. Poor little things.”

There was a notably childish sense of superiority in how she called people, “poor little things”. Pretending not to notice it, Kei asked, “Would it be possible for me to meet Tyltyl?” As long as he kept his thinking simple, the godlike Tyltyl just had to be Katagiri Honoka.

But Mytyl shook her head. “I’m the only one that can meet with Tyltyl. There’s no way you can.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I’ll try asking him while I’m there for the cookies. But I don’t think it’s gonna happen.” Mytyl walked towards the room door with rhythmic footsteps. Then she suddenly spun around to face Kei again. “Also, there’s something really important I need to tell you both.”

“What’s that?”

“I forgot. Guess it’s not all that important. Seeya.” With that, Mytyl left the room. The door closed with a soft click.

Kei decided his first step would be to put on his socks so he could get out of bed. He looked down to find his socks stuffed into his shoes, just as he had left them in the real world.

From the bed next to him, Haruki asked, “Do you believe that reality is worthless, Kei?”

“Hard to say. The emotional part of me wants to say that it has value, though.” Sweet lemons and sour grapes. A difficult topic to consider.

Were the people in reality just rationalizing a sour reality to be sweet? Or was Mytyl, trapped in the dream, telling herself that the real world she couldn’t reach had to be sour? Either one could be claimed, and both were equally possible.

After slipping on his socks, Kei stepped into his sneakers. “What do you think, Haruki?”

Haruki tilted her head slightly. “I do not know. But the possibility of value in the dream world does not render the real world worthless.”

She’s absolutely right. After tying the laces on his sneakers, Kei stood up. “We should get going. Sorry for how long I took. I really did take forever getting to sleep.”

Hruki also stood up, grabbed her purse, and shook her head. “No need to apologize.” Then, after a pause to draw a quick breath, she continued, “Shall I sing a lullaby for you next time?”

“That’s a rather attractive offer.”

Unfortunately, Kei figured something like that would only serve to make it harder to sleep.

✽

With the blue bird atop her head, Mytyl walked down the hospital hallway.

Katahgeeri. Katagiri… Honoka. Something about that name pulled at her heart. It was like the prick of a tiny thorn. It didn’t hurt, but it was noticeable.

It doesn’t matter, Mytyl thought. If there were thorns, she could ask Tyltyl to pull them out. If knowing the name Katagiri Honoka was a problem, then Tyltyl could make her forget it.

After all, she was in was the dream world, where any wish could come true. All pain and sorrow would be erased, and only happiness would be created.

Mytyl stretched out her hand. The little blue bird jumped from her head onto her hand. She looked at the bird, asking, “So what do we do now?”

They could throw a party with 100 friends, all people who would never betray Mytyl or make her sad. They could build an adorable house filled to the brim with her favorite pastries. Whatever she asked for, Tyltyl could easily give her.

But that wasn’t what she felt like doing that day. Instead, Mytyl returned to her room. It was right next door to the hospital room where she had just been chatting with Asai Kei and Haruki Misora.

Naturally, it was also a hospital room, but it sure didn’t look like one. Sweets, toys, bits, and baubles of all shapes and colors were scattered about the floor. Some were her favorites, and some had simply taken her interest at some point.

“You know what, I’ll read a book today,” Mytyl whispered, facing the little bird.

Of course, she would be reading her favorite book. So she once again decided on Maeterlinck’s The Blue Bird for a reread.

As Mytyl opened her hospital room’s window, the little bird perched on her hand flew away.

“Going somewhere?”

The little bird, flashing with the color of the blue sky, flew in circles outside the hospital window, as if waiting for permission.

“Come back soon,” Michiru called out, and the bird made one more large circle before flying out of sight. But even with it gone, Mytyl knew there was nothing to worry about. The Blue Bird would always be with her. It would even perch on her hand, if she so wished.

Mytyl sat down on her bed, picking up the book by her pillow. The Blue Bird. She opened up the pages once more to that lovely, mysterious, and slightly merciless tale.

Why do I like this story so much, anyways?

She didn’t know the answer to that question. But The Blue Bird was like a warm blanket that offered her a certain comfort. The Tyltyl in that story could be somewhat mean, but he was a kind and reliable older brother. And Mytyl, protected by him, could go along on their adventure to find the Blue Bird.

But I’ve already found mine.

The thought brought a smile to Mytyl’s face as she sat in bed, turning the page.