[AN: Sorry for the long wait, but every time I tried for a new chapter it came out far too OOC for my liking. So here it is, chapter 3! ^^ Thanks to Kyosnekozukigirl, Lizabeth, AerisGhost, Sakura and Crimson snow for reviews! :)]
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She had sat alone in her room for several hours, staring into the gleaming reflection of her mother's portrait from where it sat on the bedside table. She studied the straight, brown hair and equally brown eyes, the way she looked almost cat-like as she smiled into the lens, how she seemed so... happy. She'd never looked so happy. Never in MOMO's memory had Juli Mizrahi ever looked the least bit pleased with anyone but fellow SOCE members; and even then, it was a wry, forced sort of elation, the kind that seemed to be almost sarcastic.
She'd lock gazes with the portrait's eyes and sit, staring, as if challenging her to make a move. But there she was, MOMO's own mother, dressed up and resting on a grafitti-covered park bench, looking genuinely happy; and there's nothing MOMO can do to change it, or at least meet the strange woman in the photo herself, though such a longing coursed through her body with painful intensity.
People came and went from the room. Shion occasionally swept in, tidying this and that, watching for any signs of a disturbance... Though this did not go unnoticed, while MOMO gave her the occasional sidelong glance to make sure she didn't try to throw in a question or two. As Shion saw it, MOMO neither did nor said a thing, giving Shion no reason to hover. However, she returned to the door several times before being ushered away by chaos, under the promise that she could return later that evening.
The portrait sat on, smiling tirelessly out into the room; in the background stood a tall, greying gentleman, also dressed for some special occasion. He grinned handsomely, generously into the center of the lens, his eyes twinkling merrily, back hunched over slightly to come down to the level of his wife and the picture. One arm rested on the slight shoulders of a girl who appeared to be their daughter, her pink hair drawn up in a bow at the back of her head. She was clothed in an elaborate dress, falling well to the floor while several inches dragged behind her. When she smiled her blue eyes twinkled, with the innocent joy of a child.
Blue....
But MOMO's eyes were gold. She couldn't quite grasp what it meant, even though she knew very well that the girl in the picture was Sakura, not MOMO. Why hadn't daddy given her blue eyes, too?
The door behind her opened with a loud creak of disapproval; MOMO didn't bother to turn. Expecting another visit from Shion, she fixed her eyes on Sakura's, closing them as her own reflected from the glassy surface. The visitor had stopped at the end of the bed, their steady gaze quickly becoming uncomfortable. She knew who it was before they had a chance to speak; only one member of the party ever gave her such a feeling of forboding.
"Realians are produced with golden eyes in order to be distinguishable from humans, besides the color being a type of insignia," came a rich, feminine voice, both stoic and gentle simultaneously. "Therefore, it is not possible for you to be a direct duplicate." As MOMO turned KOS-MOS pulled her lips into the closest thing to a grin MOMO had ever seen; however, pulled off ineffectively, it looked closer to a grimace. She briefly considered KOS-MOS' idea before returning to the picture, somewhat perturbed by the new presence in the room.
Maybe daddy wanted a way to distinguish them....
"Then it's true?"
KOS-MOS let her eyes wander around the perimeter of the room before returning her attention to MOMO, remaining silent. 'it' was true? Had she derived some meaning from what KOS-MOS had just said? All she had suggested was that there had been only one difference between the two. A wave of something undistinguishable coursed through her as the little girl turned away and muttered, almost inaudibly: "That daddy only made me to replace his real daughter."
There was nothing to say in response, nothing to make her feel better (not that KOS-MOS specialized in that department, for that matter). Instead, KOS-MOS took in the soft squeak of MOMO's boots as she rose from the bed and paced its length, glancing briefly at her visitor's blue hair as she did so. A sudden need to tell the android struck MOMO, shook her body as if she were cold. She wanted to feel an affinity to KOS-MOS, hoping that the android would understand. If KOS-MOS understood, then maybe MOMO would have an easier time grasping what she was trying so hard to put into words.
"KOS-MOS?" A brief nod of recognition; Continue, please. "Doesn't it bother you?" Her head inclined curiously at the speaker, who had by now stopped, rooted on the spot. Numbers flashed over her eyes; Visuals, percentages, charts, graphs, probabilities. Nothing remotely linked to what she was trying to comprehend.
"I do not understand."
"Does it ever bother you..." MOMO sank back into the bed, covering her eyes wearily with two small, dainty hands, rubbing them in circular motions to relieve tension. KOS-MOS monitored her readings, though MOMO's temperature and heartbeat never wavered. "That they think of us as dolls? It's so sad... We're all the same. Why are we treated so differently? I love daddy just as much, but... I'm not Sakura. I'm no good."
She smiled sadly into her lap as the door opened once again, the metallic ring of KOS-MOS' shoes hitting the floor fading softly into the corridor beyond.
]---------------------------------------------[
True to past occurence, Captain Matthews had fallen flat on his back from the high perch he usually sat in, remaining in a deep sleep all the same. Tony and Hammer watched on cautiously as Shion attempted to move him more towards the outer edges of the room, being the only one with enough gall to risk her life going anywhere near the snoring man. She had barely succeeded in relocating him and recovering his ballcap from the perch, when KOS-MOS stepped daintily from the doorway, a small screen in hand. Her teammates watched on curiously as she proceeded to plug it in as an extension of the Elsa's main camera system, preparing for the worst as Shion stormed in her general direction, fists balled at her sides.
"KOS-MOS, what is it that you're trying to do? And where have you been all morning?" No answer. Shion repeated herself twice more before the android swung her head around and met her gaze full-force, lips pulled taut in perfect expression: Worry, was it?
"KOS-MOS-"
"There is a high probability that you may wish to monitor the little one," she stated simply, letting her face fall back into its usual state of subdued expression. Shion heard the soft noises made by the computer as it booted itself up, gaze remaining warily on KOS-MOS.
"Little one?"
In an instant a large screen covered the front of the Elsa, clearly reflecting what appeared to be the remains of a picture frame, tossed haphazardly to the ground, glass cover shattered. The fragments glittered in the moonlight, as tiny hands gathered the pieces carefully, delicately, avoiding the sharp edges. She'd picked up a large piece and stared, studying the intensity of her golden eyes in the faint light cast overhead. MOMO: she was on her knees at the beach.
The reaction was almost unanimous; many of them simply stared, utterly confused. Shion's eyebrows now raised, she continued to watch as the same piece of glass dropped to the ground at the girl's feet. At the same time, Jr. had bolted from his seat and made for the door, stopped by KOS-MOS' cold, commanding glare.
"What the hell? C'mon, what'd you do to her-"
MOMO stood with some difficulty, discarding the glass into a small pile with slight hesitation, burying it with her foot. She then retrieved the picture from its resting place in the sand some distance away, studying Sakura's fragile smile once more before tearing the picture in two, separating the daughter from her mother and father. The two halves fluttered, weightlessly, in the air before descending slowly onto the sand. Shion's hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh, dear... KOS-MOS, what happened?"
However, there was no time for a response. MOMO took flight, running down the length of the beach as loose parts of her uniform trailed behind in the wind. Desperately, she'd thrown herself to the water, landing on her knees and crawling deeper, deeper, the waves swirling softly around her. Her entire body shaking with a sob she'd been trying rigorously to contain, she crawled further, stopping to sit up and stare into the depths. To Shion's relief, the little girl's eyes had softened, now shedding the tears she'd held in for weeks.
"It was so easy the other day. Come on, I need to forget!" MOMO pawed at the surface of the water, willing it to swirl faster, to calm her. She tried to grasp it, to hold it close to her, but it slipped through her clenched hands. Defeated, she let herself fall limp, staring at her clear reflection on the water's surface with a look of utter pain. "I need to forget, so I can be happy for them. Is that too much to... to ask?" In truth, she didn't exactly understand everything she was trying to say. She understood the pain she felt, the horrible feelings that seemed to linger around the picture and those shown in it, but the depth of her reaction came as a shock. Somewhere, she found it odd that she'd chosen the beach to come to, though it seemed to fit.
*
She wanted to go there, she says, to dance underneath the sun and swim in a vibrant ocean of mignonette and daisies. But she wanted the sun to be real. And she wanted her daddy to dance with her, to be happy and be close to her.
*
Onboard the Elsa, the control room was silent as Jr. sprinted towards the exit, Shion and Ziggy not far behind.
.
[send feedback to cathe@kururu.org]
.
She had sat alone in her room for several hours, staring into the gleaming reflection of her mother's portrait from where it sat on the bedside table. She studied the straight, brown hair and equally brown eyes, the way she looked almost cat-like as she smiled into the lens, how she seemed so... happy. She'd never looked so happy. Never in MOMO's memory had Juli Mizrahi ever looked the least bit pleased with anyone but fellow SOCE members; and even then, it was a wry, forced sort of elation, the kind that seemed to be almost sarcastic.
She'd lock gazes with the portrait's eyes and sit, staring, as if challenging her to make a move. But there she was, MOMO's own mother, dressed up and resting on a grafitti-covered park bench, looking genuinely happy; and there's nothing MOMO can do to change it, or at least meet the strange woman in the photo herself, though such a longing coursed through her body with painful intensity.
People came and went from the room. Shion occasionally swept in, tidying this and that, watching for any signs of a disturbance... Though this did not go unnoticed, while MOMO gave her the occasional sidelong glance to make sure she didn't try to throw in a question or two. As Shion saw it, MOMO neither did nor said a thing, giving Shion no reason to hover. However, she returned to the door several times before being ushered away by chaos, under the promise that she could return later that evening.
The portrait sat on, smiling tirelessly out into the room; in the background stood a tall, greying gentleman, also dressed for some special occasion. He grinned handsomely, generously into the center of the lens, his eyes twinkling merrily, back hunched over slightly to come down to the level of his wife and the picture. One arm rested on the slight shoulders of a girl who appeared to be their daughter, her pink hair drawn up in a bow at the back of her head. She was clothed in an elaborate dress, falling well to the floor while several inches dragged behind her. When she smiled her blue eyes twinkled, with the innocent joy of a child.
Blue....
But MOMO's eyes were gold. She couldn't quite grasp what it meant, even though she knew very well that the girl in the picture was Sakura, not MOMO. Why hadn't daddy given her blue eyes, too?
The door behind her opened with a loud creak of disapproval; MOMO didn't bother to turn. Expecting another visit from Shion, she fixed her eyes on Sakura's, closing them as her own reflected from the glassy surface. The visitor had stopped at the end of the bed, their steady gaze quickly becoming uncomfortable. She knew who it was before they had a chance to speak; only one member of the party ever gave her such a feeling of forboding.
"Realians are produced with golden eyes in order to be distinguishable from humans, besides the color being a type of insignia," came a rich, feminine voice, both stoic and gentle simultaneously. "Therefore, it is not possible for you to be a direct duplicate." As MOMO turned KOS-MOS pulled her lips into the closest thing to a grin MOMO had ever seen; however, pulled off ineffectively, it looked closer to a grimace. She briefly considered KOS-MOS' idea before returning to the picture, somewhat perturbed by the new presence in the room.
Maybe daddy wanted a way to distinguish them....
"Then it's true?"
KOS-MOS let her eyes wander around the perimeter of the room before returning her attention to MOMO, remaining silent. 'it' was true? Had she derived some meaning from what KOS-MOS had just said? All she had suggested was that there had been only one difference between the two. A wave of something undistinguishable coursed through her as the little girl turned away and muttered, almost inaudibly: "That daddy only made me to replace his real daughter."
There was nothing to say in response, nothing to make her feel better (not that KOS-MOS specialized in that department, for that matter). Instead, KOS-MOS took in the soft squeak of MOMO's boots as she rose from the bed and paced its length, glancing briefly at her visitor's blue hair as she did so. A sudden need to tell the android struck MOMO, shook her body as if she were cold. She wanted to feel an affinity to KOS-MOS, hoping that the android would understand. If KOS-MOS understood, then maybe MOMO would have an easier time grasping what she was trying so hard to put into words.
"KOS-MOS?" A brief nod of recognition; Continue, please. "Doesn't it bother you?" Her head inclined curiously at the speaker, who had by now stopped, rooted on the spot. Numbers flashed over her eyes; Visuals, percentages, charts, graphs, probabilities. Nothing remotely linked to what she was trying to comprehend.
"I do not understand."
"Does it ever bother you..." MOMO sank back into the bed, covering her eyes wearily with two small, dainty hands, rubbing them in circular motions to relieve tension. KOS-MOS monitored her readings, though MOMO's temperature and heartbeat never wavered. "That they think of us as dolls? It's so sad... We're all the same. Why are we treated so differently? I love daddy just as much, but... I'm not Sakura. I'm no good."
She smiled sadly into her lap as the door opened once again, the metallic ring of KOS-MOS' shoes hitting the floor fading softly into the corridor beyond.
]---------------------------------------------[
True to past occurence, Captain Matthews had fallen flat on his back from the high perch he usually sat in, remaining in a deep sleep all the same. Tony and Hammer watched on cautiously as Shion attempted to move him more towards the outer edges of the room, being the only one with enough gall to risk her life going anywhere near the snoring man. She had barely succeeded in relocating him and recovering his ballcap from the perch, when KOS-MOS stepped daintily from the doorway, a small screen in hand. Her teammates watched on curiously as she proceeded to plug it in as an extension of the Elsa's main camera system, preparing for the worst as Shion stormed in her general direction, fists balled at her sides.
"KOS-MOS, what is it that you're trying to do? And where have you been all morning?" No answer. Shion repeated herself twice more before the android swung her head around and met her gaze full-force, lips pulled taut in perfect expression: Worry, was it?
"KOS-MOS-"
"There is a high probability that you may wish to monitor the little one," she stated simply, letting her face fall back into its usual state of subdued expression. Shion heard the soft noises made by the computer as it booted itself up, gaze remaining warily on KOS-MOS.
"Little one?"
In an instant a large screen covered the front of the Elsa, clearly reflecting what appeared to be the remains of a picture frame, tossed haphazardly to the ground, glass cover shattered. The fragments glittered in the moonlight, as tiny hands gathered the pieces carefully, delicately, avoiding the sharp edges. She'd picked up a large piece and stared, studying the intensity of her golden eyes in the faint light cast overhead. MOMO: she was on her knees at the beach.
The reaction was almost unanimous; many of them simply stared, utterly confused. Shion's eyebrows now raised, she continued to watch as the same piece of glass dropped to the ground at the girl's feet. At the same time, Jr. had bolted from his seat and made for the door, stopped by KOS-MOS' cold, commanding glare.
"What the hell? C'mon, what'd you do to her-"
MOMO stood with some difficulty, discarding the glass into a small pile with slight hesitation, burying it with her foot. She then retrieved the picture from its resting place in the sand some distance away, studying Sakura's fragile smile once more before tearing the picture in two, separating the daughter from her mother and father. The two halves fluttered, weightlessly, in the air before descending slowly onto the sand. Shion's hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh, dear... KOS-MOS, what happened?"
However, there was no time for a response. MOMO took flight, running down the length of the beach as loose parts of her uniform trailed behind in the wind. Desperately, she'd thrown herself to the water, landing on her knees and crawling deeper, deeper, the waves swirling softly around her. Her entire body shaking with a sob she'd been trying rigorously to contain, she crawled further, stopping to sit up and stare into the depths. To Shion's relief, the little girl's eyes had softened, now shedding the tears she'd held in for weeks.
"It was so easy the other day. Come on, I need to forget!" MOMO pawed at the surface of the water, willing it to swirl faster, to calm her. She tried to grasp it, to hold it close to her, but it slipped through her clenched hands. Defeated, she let herself fall limp, staring at her clear reflection on the water's surface with a look of utter pain. "I need to forget, so I can be happy for them. Is that too much to... to ask?" In truth, she didn't exactly understand everything she was trying to say. She understood the pain she felt, the horrible feelings that seemed to linger around the picture and those shown in it, but the depth of her reaction came as a shock. Somewhere, she found it odd that she'd chosen the beach to come to, though it seemed to fit.
*
She wanted to go there, she says, to dance underneath the sun and swim in a vibrant ocean of mignonette and daisies. But she wanted the sun to be real. And she wanted her daddy to dance with her, to be happy and be close to her.
*
Onboard the Elsa, the control room was silent as Jr. sprinted towards the exit, Shion and Ziggy not far behind.
.
[send feedback to cathe@kururu.org]