She was nine years old, and had the entire city as a playground. Regrettably, that day, she stayed inside, sitting peacefully in the middle of the floor beside her packed suitcase. Outside an opened window, she could hear her brothers playing, most notably Masafumi’s loud giggling squeals whenever he got hit beside his head. Hirofumi had taken it upon himself to help his father load up the car with luggage. The younger son, Masafumi, would run down the length of the road, then back, smacking his brother with the back of his hand, his foot, anything, with each pass. Their father had tried, and ultimately failed, to ignore the noise. After Masafumi had fallen numerous times as a result of his older brother‘s pummeling, Reiji had set his foot down.

Sofia, the only daughter of the family, opted to stay inside where it was cooler. She had grown up to be quite proper, and the idea of playing around with two mischievous boys made her sick to her stomach.

“Are you excited about moving to Japan, Sofia?”

Sofia, who was the exact opposite of excited, angrily turned her head away from her mother. Her lips stuck out in a scowl; her eyes narrowed into golden slits.

“I want to stay here.” Was all she said before tracing the polished edge of her dress shoes with her small fingers. “Leave me here.”

“But I would miss you.”

“I don’t care.” The pink lace of her overly dolled-up skirt twitched as she crossed her arms before her chest. “I have friends here. I don’t want to move.”

“You can make friends in Japan.”

“I won’t understand them.” She pouted angrily, crunching her face up in a horribly unattractive way. “I probably won’t like them either.”

“Sofia,” Her mother smiled and touched her hands to her hips. “Hasn’t your father been teaching you Japanese since you were little?”

“I don’t want to go, Cordette Takatori.” Sofia stressed her mother’s name, trying to argue the way she had heard her parents. Full names always meant the worst. It was best to only use that approach when things got really bad. “I don’t look like Masa or Hiro.”

“That because you’re entirely mine.” There were topics that were never to be hit upon in her family. Sofia had been told this numerous times by her father either verbally or by little hints or clues that speaking of the “other woman” was forbidden. It was strange than, that Cordette would speak of, even joke around about, the mixed lineage in the Takatori family. It never particularly made Sofia uncomfortable to know she came from another mother then her brothers. In fact, she was proud. The reality that she looked different than the next didn’t settle well in her gut though.

“I know, but everyone will call me names.”

“Because of your skin color?” The rocking chair in the corner creaked as Cordette raised her voice in a singsong manner. “‘Beautiful’ is a name, isn’t it? I bet many boys will call you that.”

“They’ll call me black.”

“Because you are.” Cordette reached out and touched the tight curls of her daughter’s hair, running them through her outstretched fingers. “And so am I. Are you saying I should be ashamed of myself for that?”

Sofia finally turned, her face twisted up in a frightened expression. She hadn’t meant to disrespect her mother. Perhaps acting mad wasn’t the way to get what you wanted.

“It’ll be too different…” The girl let her hands fall to the puffy sides of her dress. Her shirt, cut short to show a small crescent of tanned belly, pulled back as she inhaled deeply. “What if everyone hates me?”

“Do you know how many people there are in Japan?”

Sofia didn’t, but she had a pretty good guess.

“Ba-zillions?”

“Exactly, what are the odds that a ba-zillion people will hate you?” Cordette leaned forward in the chair and pulled down her daughter’s shirt to cover her stomach. “Very slight, huh?”

“It could happen.”

“If it does, we’ll move back.”

“Promise?” Sofia pulled her arms away, taking a step closer so her mother could perfect her outfit. “And we can move back into the same house? And I can go back to the same school?”

“I promise.” Cordette smiled warmly, the deep violet red of her lips causing Sofia to mimic her. “I’ll bring you, and Hirofumi, and Masa--”

“No.” Sofia suddenly put out her hand, her head shaking in displeasure. Both palms cupped the chin of her mother’s face, smushing it in. “No boys. Just you and me.”

“Aw, why not?” Cordette reached up and embraced the small hands in her own. “You’ll miss them.”

“I don’t like them that much.” Sofia barred her teeth in a scowl. “You shouldn’t have made them.”

“Well, there’s no going back now, right?” The woman stood from her chair, still grasping Sofia’s hand, and started for the door. On the way, she reached down and picked up her daughter’s small bag of luggage. “You’ll have to deal with them.”

Upon figuring out where her mother was headed, Sofia pulled back, stopping Cordette from moving forward.

“I can’t go!” She screamed suddenly. “A slight chance is still a chance!”

“How about this.” Cordette stopped walking. Instead, she set down the bag and sat against the floor. Looking up at her daughter, she outstretched her hands. “Let’s plan ahead.”

“What for?” Sofia waved her nail-polished fingers at her mother, pulling her eyes up towards the ceiling. “I’ll just stay here. Send me food once in a while.”

“How many friends would you like to have in Japan?” Cordette seized Sofia’s moving hand, and pulled her daughter into her lap. “One?”

“No, not enough.” Hesitant, Sofia shook her head. “She may be busy some days and I’ll be left alone.”

“Two then?”

“They may gang up on me.”

“Three?”

She thought for a moment. Three friends out of a ba-zillion sounded perfect.

“Ok, three.”

“Good, now close your eyes.”

Sofia didn’t listen at first, but as Cordette shut hers, she followed suit.

“Now wish.”

“For what?” Sofia looked out into the darkness of her eyelids. Something in the distance caught her attention.

“For those three perfect friends that you’ll meet some day.” Cordette hugged her daughter to her chest. “Wish for them, Sofia.”

“I don’t think this will wor--” The darkness started to receded. Instead, the space around her brightened to a deep crimson, then orange. It soon wavered between a faint golden brown and fiery peach. The warmth of her mother’s bosom turned hard and cold. The light once again shuttered before her.

“Warren-san?”

Her eyes immediately flashed open, blinking briefly with white as the paramedic’s flashlight skimmed her flushed face. Cringing, a dull hurt started from the base of her back, traveling methodically down to both knees. There was a strange pressure against her left wrist, but she was unable to move it away. A hand touched her twitching arm as she struggled; something soft tickled her cheek. Still in her bewildered state, Sofia reluctantly glanced up into the light.

“She’s coming to.” Two vividly green eyes blinked down at her; pale lips broke apart to mouth the words. “Took long enough…”

A woman, in her late 40’s, wedged herself between Autumn and the floor, a small medical flashlight clutched in her gloved fingers. The smell of latex and plastic mixed in with the bawdy smell of dirt and fertilizer.

“Warren-san, I was called here by the store owner because you fainted.”

Sofia blinked away the stinging sensation every time the light passed over her pupils. With each wink, a world filled of brilliant gold flashed before her eyes. She was trying, at that very moment, to slip back into the dream…or nightmare she had just fallen from. Revisited memories were no longer a source of relief. They forced her to remember how perfect everything was before…

“I’m a paramedic from the Red Cross Medical Center.” A cold cloth was pressed against Sofia’s forehead as the woman spoke. “Could you squeeze my hand for me?”

Sofia absentmindedly squeezed her hand.

“We were going to take you to the hospital, but I was told you had a fainting spell because of a mixture of medication and allergies.” Sofia didn’t answer. She glanced around instead, fighting away the last pinpricks of stars in her vision by movement. Not only was she lying on the cold floor, which strangely felt soothing, but she was too tired to even shift off a painful bruise in her back. “The problem was easily solved on the spot. But, if you still feel ill, we’ll be happy to drive you back to the hospital, Warren-san.”

Warren-san? Sofia peeked past Autumn’s head, spotted Marie and Rhia, but no one else familiar. So where’s Estelle?

“We also found out that you were very dehydrated.” The paramedic continued, speaking more to the redhead beside them then the actual patient. “She needs to stay out of the sun while she’s on Paladone. The heat this time of year can be brutal. It doesn’t help that her prescription thins out her blood as well.”

“My friend and I thought she was home.” Autumn answered ominously. With a gentle touch, the cold rag was flipped over on Sofia’s forehead. It was pressed down gently, a trickle of ice water dribbling down into the crevice of her eyes. “If we had known she needed to talk to us, we would have hurried to get home.”

It was then that Sofia noticed, or rather, felt, the intravenous drip in her flesh. With her eyes now on the reddened curve of her arm, she followed the plastic tube up to the IV bag. Marie, eyes arched, mouth spread in a toothy grin, beamed down at her. Further back, speaking softly with another paramedic, stood Rhia, an empty, orange bottle of pills in her palm. She had it tilted up to the light, skimming the description with one finger. The paramedic simultaneously read a small slip of paper, and nodded gently as she dictated the exact dosage and instructions to him.

“You need to start taking the right amount of medication for your pain.” The paramedic rambled on. Autumn, nodding above Sofia’s head, glanced at Marie every few seconds. “Your prescription of 24 mg of Paladone was a little off.”

“Is there a reason why the dosage was mixed up?” Marie leaned into the conversation, running her fingers up Sofia’s side to comfort her. “With a lesser dose, this won’t happen again, right?”

“It shouldn’t.” The older woman responded. “Usually, a quantity of 24 mg is standard to give to patients. Some may need more because it doesn’t help alleviate the pain enough, others find that it’s too much. Warren-san just happened to be in the latter category--”

“Why are you calling me that?”

Sofia mustered what strength she had and lifted her head off the floor. Slowly, with the help of the paramedic and Autumn, she leaned forward, both arms clutched around her stomach, and sat upright.

“Excuse me?”

“Warren-san.” Sofia said the name slowly. “Why do you keep--”

The paramedic quickly reached behind her, returning with a small clipboard of Sofia’s medical documentation. Scanning the form, she frowned, shook her head to the side, and peered up into the woman’s eyes.

“That is your name, right?”

“No, it’s--”

“Warren-san, please just let the woman do what she hasta.” Marie’s face came into focus. With a heartening grin, she turned to the older woman, a burlesque look of worry on her face. “I guess she hit her head a lil too hard, ne?

Nodding in sympathy, the paramedic gathered her supplies and moved back to allow Marie better access. Resting her hand on Sofia’s shoulder, the woman nodded her head and motioned towards the clipboard in her hand.

“I should have let you come around before saying all I had. You seem to still be in a bit of a fog.” The woman tapped the shoulder gently, rocked back on her heals and stood. Marie stood as well, moving close to the woman to secretly prompt an exit. “She’s free to go whenever you two decide. I would advise you let the IV drain first before leaving though.”

“Arigato gosaimas’.” The brunette bowed deeply as she spoke, however her eyes remained steadfast on the paramedic. “Your time has been greatly appreciated.”

The paramedic left after a few words of caution. No direct sunlight. Buy some allergy medicine. Drink some more water. Make your friends do whatever you need done so you won’t have to do it. Autumn and Marie nodded with each point, careful to keep their bewildered leader silent for a few seconds longer.

“Why did she call me that?” Sofia grabbed the edge of Marie’s tank top, pulling her in close. “Why wasn’t I addressed as--”

“Estelle changed your surname while you were in the hospital for yer shoulder wound.” She pointed at Sofia’s arm. “She didn’t explain exactly why, but said it was for yer safety.”

“Can’t have this lil blunder make it into the papers, eh?” Marie seemed as though she just realized something, and rooted around behind her. As she turned back, she brought out a small hand of violet-leafed Monkshood and handed them to Sofia. “Even though you’re all over the news, strangely, there are some people who still don’t recognize you without your father’s name attached to ya.”

The flowers slipped between Sofia’s outstretched palms. She gingerly closed her fingers around the green stems as Marie and Autumn helped her up.

“Oh!” Marie eagerly spoke, dusting off the bits of vitamin-induced potting soil from the back of Sofia’s shirt. “I bet you wouldn’t be able to guess what these flowers mean…”

~

He had watched them ever since the paramedics got there. Of course, he wasn’t close enough for them to see him, which was a massive disadvantage. He had exchanged the ability to hear with the means to watch from a safe distance.

He had fortunately heard her name over the startled gasps of his customer’s surprise. ‘Sofia’ wasn’t a common forename in this part of Honshu. Dark skin? Even more rare.

Warren Sofia. Takatori Sofia. He had been quite certain that Anatolia never had children, which is why, upon hearing the name of his Kritikerian boss, he had moved in to get a better look. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. He was positive this girl had no correlation to the predominately fair Warren family.

Then why the same name?

It was troublesome to move around in the underground labeled as a Warren. You, in the least, would be revered. Attention would be drawn to you; That was never a plus in this business.

He glanced over to his left, his violet eyes jumping at the movement around him. A few steps away, Omi idly leaned against the side of the counter, eying the young blond at the far end of the store. For a second, the boy’s body tensed and he leaned forward. A moment passed, a pause aged, and he found himself standing alone as his coworker walked off.

“Yo, Aya.” A hand suddenly smacked into his shoulder. Youji, the standard cigarette between his lips, walked up beside him, one hand stuffed deep within his pocket. “Seems like some chick just fainted the second she saw your face. No wonder you’re so depressed.”

“Do you recognize the dark one from anywhere?” Aya, the manager of the Koneko no Sumi Ie and, moreover, the one who had called the paramedics, asked. As he spoke, Omi approached the blond, subtly standing next to her as she spoke to the paramedic. They exchanged smiles.

“Unfortunately, no.” Youji shook his head jokingly. His hand grasped Aya’s shoulder as he spoke. “I know the two beside her though.”

“But, the woman in the middle doesn’t look familiar to you?”

“Should she?” Youji nodded his head, a sickening grin on his lips. Leaning forward, he peered through the small crowd that had gathered. “Do you?”

“I’ve never seen her before.” Clearly, a lie.

“Wonder what happened to her arm.” He laughed to himself loudly, patting Aya’s shoulder even harder. “You think she likes rough se--”

Aya’s aloof glance forced Youji to jerk his hand back. There was an uncomfortable chuckle from within his throat as he buried both hands in his pocket.

“Put the ‘Closed’ sign up.” Aya pushed off from the counter and started towards the back of the store. Hidden behind a pile of cardboard boxes and plastic plant holders was the basement door. “We’re shutting down early.”

“You serious?” Youji’s eyes automatically widened. His eyes followed Aya, dulling at the lack of response. “Thaaank you, manager.”

~

The door silently shut behind Aya, encasing him in the dull blue lighting emitted from the base of the stairs. He started down the steps, one hand gliding carelessly on the banister, one on the opened cell phone in his hand. The illuminated display inked a halo of light around his hands and face as the cursor inched down his address book.

When Persia’s number lit up, Aya immediately clicked ‘Send’.