THE MAYAN VILLAGE

Juna ran far out into the surf and cast her net, watching it unfurl itself and disappear with thin sparkling splashes into the iridescent blue water. Then, after waiting several seconds, she tugged on the line attached to her wrist to close and retrieve it, and was pleased to discover five fish wriggling in its folds.

She placed her catch in the basket hanging around her waist, careful not to let their slipperiness betray her. She was happier than she had been in a long time. The Toki no Shizuku in her forehead had been strangely dark and quiescent ever since she had arrived here on Mayan Island. She had no powers, could no longer transform into Arjuna, and discovered—to her guilty delight—that she could indulge herself in some of her former bad habits, like eating heavily-processed foods. Tinned corned beef and tepid cola had never tasted so good.

Nevertheless, she wasn't about to go binge on them. Sara had told her that she was to go back home, and she couldn't very well show up in front of Chris all polluted and weak once more, could she? He'd just leave her stranded in the Japanese Alps again, to 'purify' herself. The fact that she was even alive to imagine such a scene was another reason why she was happy. After all, who else in the whole wide world had apparently managed to survive a point-blank atomic explosion? The thought had entered Juna's mind earlier that she was now the human equivalent of a cockroach, and she broke into peals of laughter at the image until Sara pointedly asked her if the blazing tropical sun had fried her brains, and to be careful lest she cut herself with the knife she was using. That got her to shut up, and she went back to scaling the fish she had caught.

The Mayan village was a small, idyllic place, and Sara a kind, if somewhat taciturn, host. In exchange for her stay Juna helped with the chores, as part of what was now a three-girl household. She caught fish, gutted and cleaned them, gathered fruit, collected firewood, and did the washing; her efforts freed Sara to tend more to her duties as shaman-in-training and make more of the the curious love sticks that seemed to be an integral part of the island's romantic traditions: you offered one to the person you fancied, and if he or she accepted it, then you two were a couple. In addition, she answered all the questions Sara's younger sister Mao and her friends had about the outside world and its unusual and wondrous ways. It seemed that few, if any, outsiders came to the island. Mostly the men left for greener pastures and brighter futures, never to return, so the villagers consisted mostly of women and children, and old folk. There was a decrepit, broken-down generator in one of the huts, plus wires for electricity, and even a dish antenna for communication with the outside world, but all were beyond Juna's ability to repair.

When she had first arrived some of the villagers had looked askance at her, a foreigner, but the young shaman—about Juna's age, as it were—seemed to command some respect and assured them that she was innocent of their suspicions and worthy, as far as she could tell, of their trust. The people bowed to her judgment and welcomed Juna into their village.

Early into her stay, Juna noticed several of the local boys and men eyeing her with interest. From what Mao divulged, they were enamored of her pale complexion and different features. In fact, so enamored that when she had first gone out to fish with Mao under the sun she received repeated warnings about getting sunburnt, and heard several of the men complain about her skin getting tanned. One of the boys had even offered her a blanket to shield herself with. Juna found herself secretly liking the attention. The ironic thing was, she was just another girl in Japan, even though she was the Avatar of Time; here, though she had no powers and was just another mortal, she was was special, through no fault of her own. That definitely made her happy.

It somehow seemed to not matter to her that she was, for the present, stuck here on Mayan in the early part of the year 2007. At night, as she looked out the open windows at the stars, she idly wondered if she had an alter-ego in this world, and if she had, was it still living in Kobe? She wished she could turn into Arjuna and fly back home to just have a peep at herself. But... no. From the smattering of information about the outside world she had heard from Sara and the other villagers, there had been a great war involving much of the world. She fervently hoped that Kobe had been spared any damage.

She looked down at her entire catch and decided that it would be enough for them for dinner. Shutting the basket lid, she turned around and waded back through the waist-deep water to shore. Waiting for her on the blinding white sand was Mao.

"Are you done?" the energetic girl asked.

Juna nodded. "Is this enough?" She lifted the basket lid with one hand as she brushed particles of sand off her slightly too-big blue shorts with the other. It had been lent to her by a generous soul.

"Oh, no, not scud again," moaned Mao. "I'm getting tired of this." She reached in, grabbed the small, torpedo-like fish and hurled it back out into the water.

"Hey! I worked hard to get that!"

"Don't worry about it," Mao chirped. "You know, I think I'll persuade big sister to get us some a'ahi from one of the fishermen later. I'm sure you'll like it."

"What's a'ahi?"

"I don't know your name for it. It's a fish with yellow fins." Looking back in the basket, the young girl exclaimed "Yeek! What's this?" She reached in and carefully extracted a spiky, puffed-up piscine creature.

"Oh! Hey, that's fugu!"

"Is that what you call it? We can't eat this! You wanna commit suicide?" She threw the small puffer fish back into the water.

"Sorry. I didn't recognize it earlier." Juna waved sadly as her deadly catch arced through the air and landed in the water. "Bye-bye, fugu-kun. You know, Mao, some people consider that a delicacy where I live. An expensive one."

"Well, we shun it here. Hey, you've got a ray too!" Mao looked up at Juna. "What are you, some kind of magician? You don't usually find these out in the surf."

"Yes," Juna said, trying out her best mysterious smile. "I can call up any fish you want."

"I don't believe you." Mao eyed her skeptically. "If that's true, then catch a raira for me."

"What's that?"

"A shark."

"No way! What do you think I am, crazy?"

Mao was about to reply when they heard their names called. She and Juna looked to see Sara waving at them, miming that it was time for lunch. Mao waved back, and under the tireless, unblinking gaze of the spread-winged tori-no-hito statues standing behind the rise that marked the end of the beach and the beginning of the land she and Juna set off for the house, still ribbing and joking with each other. Halfway there, the Avatar looked down at her dripping shirt and was glad that Sara's rough-textured homespun wasn't transparent when wet.