Arc 5: A Bright Feather When Sasami was ready, Misao gave her a tour of her apartment. When she showed Sasami her bedroom, Sasami clearly showed amazement. "Wow, a skylight, and it's so bright and big." Sasami flitted across the room, passing by the mirrored dresser, quilted queen size bed, the kotatsu and finally stopping in front of the large shelf with a bamboo carved design. "What are all these?" Sasami pointed to an odd collection of items on the shelves. "Souvenirs from places that I visited in America." Misao began to describe where each of one was from. "I also have pictures." "You do? May I see them?" "Of course!" Misao began to pull photo albums from another shelf. She laid them on the kotatsu. "This may take a while, so have a seat, and let me get some tea. Is green ok?" "Yeah." Sasami select a cushion nearby as Misao left the room. She picked up a magazine on the kotatsu and was surprised to find that it was in English. (Sixteen.) She leafed through it and laughed as she read the articles. Misao returned to find Sasami giggling over the magazine. She laid a tray of tea and cakes within Sasami's reach. Sasami finally noticed her and put down the magazine. "The stuff they write about! It's so silly!" Misao blushed slightly. Despite her educational background, she continued to subscribe to the magazine. She haltingly replied. "Yes, it's great entertainment value." "I mean it would be even funnier if American teenagers took this stuff seriously." Misao blushed some more. "Yes, it would be." She giggled nervously. "Help yourself to some tea." "Oh thanks." Sasami picked up a cup with both hand and sipped. Misao showed her the pictures that she had taken and where they were. Tea and cakes were replenished several times. They went over a few photo albums that evening. Time passed quickly and Sasami noticed the time and had to leave. They continued visiting each other for the next few weeks. Misao was happy to have Sasami over, and felt the glaring emptiness of her apartment when she left. She often lay in bed going over the visit and would often fall asleep as she remembered the details. But sometimes, when the clock on the wall bothered her with its monotonic ticking, or when the crickets seemed to chirp away her sleepiness, she felt the urge to call Sasami just to hear her voice. On one such night, Misao tossed and turned restlessly. She hugged her pillow close and wondered whether Sasami was sleeping. Sasami's eyes flew toward the clock. 1:30. Misao would be sleeping. Sasami fingered the cordless phone absentmindedly. She felt like talking to someone, but she could not think of anyone else who would be awake at this hour. 1:35. Misao would be asleep. (If Misao's asleep, I wonder if she's dreaming.) Sasami smiled to herself. (She's probably dreaming of playing in a big concert hall.) Sasami remembered Misao's playing during her visits. Her music was soft and warm. Sometimes, Misao would teach her a few melodies as they sat side by side on the bench. Sasami held her hands to her chest as she remembered the times when Misao would guide them over the keys. (It's alright, I'll see her again tomorrow.) She began to hum the most recent one she had learned in her head, and without realizing it, fell asleep. For her next visit, Sasami brought some of her photo albums. They had gone through most of Misao's and would likely finish the rest tonight. As usual, Misao provided excellent tea and cakes while they bent their heads over the albums. Soon, the stack of viewed photo albums grew taller. Misao reached out for the next album and noticed that it was her scrapbook. She started to put it on top of the other stack when Sasami asked, "What's that?" "It's a scrapbook I used to keep when I was in grade school." "Really?" A sudden urge filled Sasami. "May I see it?" "Umm, sure." They leafed through the pages. Misao would sometimes say, "That's nothing." or "It's nothing special." when certain pages would come up and quickly be turned over. Sasami didn't press her. She sat in silence, trying to remember her childhood as each page turned. Then a page turned to a newspaper clipping. It showed a young girl with a feather in her hair and clad in form fitting black leather. The Elite Patrol Squad fought her as she floated in the air and the misshappen monsters near her. Suddenly, Sasami felt a twinge of pain. (Oh, kami-sama, not now.), she thought. "I have a few pages of Pixy Misa and her love-love monsters. Now that I think about it, magic seemed so fascinating to me when I was younger. So I searched for news about Pixy Misa, even though she was a bad girl." Misao turned the pages slowly. Sasami sat nearby with her hands supporting her chin, seemingly engrossed with the clippings. Then Misao turned to the page where a lone white feather lay. "What a large feather." Sasami said softly. By now, she had a headache. "Oh, I probably picked it up somewhere, since it's so pretty." "But how does it glow like that?" "Eh?" (Now that she mentioned it, it does seem to glow.) Misao picked up the feather and cupped her hands around it to shield it from light. It seemed to flicker a bit, just like a hologram catching reflected light. "It seems to glow a bit. How odd." "May I see?" Misao held out the feather and Sasami closed her hand around it and Misao's. A series of images flowed through Sasami in the back of her mind. She felt herself gasp. Then a deep darkness began to surround her, and she felt herself falling... falling...
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