Los Angeles International Airport, LAX, seemed no glorious building; instead, it was a cold, impersonal airport. Visitors weren't allowed to wait at the gates, due to America's strict security procedures. Sakura thought it sad that they had only began using such measures after two planes crashed into one of their most famous buildings, killing thousands of people.
With weary eyes, she stood at Customs, the great sign above her weaving side to side from the airconditioning. The woman infront of her was portly and wore thick glasses and an overcoat. From what she'd heard, this seemed out of place for Southern California weather. Probably a tourist from England, she thought, though Sakura was from a far more distant place.
The burly security officer ahead of her looked massive. He must have stood at 6'5, his hulking shoulders padded and covered in a tan officer's suit. He took passports, glanced over them, and stamped the paper. Sakura's eyes shifted, and she sighed as she took off her jacket, belt, earrings, and necklace, placing them in a small, white tray. After that, she put her laptop on the conveyer belt along with her convenient carry-on bag, and watched them move up the machine. She looked at the instructions scrawled upon a slate to her side, one of her first signs that were purely in English. Though she was fluent in the language, she felt embarassment for a moment as she thought of fumbling over words.
The line had advanced, and as the woman passed through, Sakura stepped up and handed the man her passport. His name tag read Phil, and she felt a moment's amusement that such an inhuman looking character had such an ordinary, American name.
"Japan, eh?" he inquired idly. She sensed this wasn't really a question, and lifted her shoulders in a vague shrug. "College?" This time she did nod, and the usual nervousness passed through her at the thought of attending UCLA.
He raised a stamp and slammed it down, and a blue circle with a seal appeared on her passport. With a nod of thanks, she slipped through the security doors and picked up her laptop, carry-on, and reassembled her items.
"Well, hello, America." She exhaled out from under her breath. "How do you do?"
------------------
Rain pounded against the backseat taxi window, cascading down the glass. Sakura peered at it and past it, her mind far away, back in Japan. It was curious that it would rain the day she arrived, but she welcomed it. Rain had always calmed her.
With her luggage in the trunk and her bag settled securely on her lap, the taxi maneuvered onto the freeway, and she watched the ramp glide past, along with towering buildings and palm trees that stretched toward the gray skies. This new place humbled her into silence, and Sakura felt content being a stranger looking in from the outside.
She thought of where everyone had ended up. Li had disappeared seven years ago, and she imagined he was living in Hong Kong. What was Li like at eighteen? Strong, courgeous, tall? Was his voice deeper, his commands even more threatening? A smile teased her lips to think of him; to remember the way his bossy attitude had irked her. Was Meilin still stalking him, the obvious yearning and earnestness to be with Li still in her eyes?
Her cellphone rang, the chipper ringtone pulsing against her ears. She unzipped her bag and fished around, and when she felt the vibration she pulled it out. Flipping open the silver phone, Sakura brought it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Sakura," a warm voice greeted her. "This is Kendra Tassie. One of your new roomates?"
She recognized the woman's name, and bit her lip, thinking of first impressions.
"Yes, I remember. How are you?"
"I'm fine. And you? I'm assuming your plane has landed?"
Sakura nodded, then realized Kendra couldn't see her. "Yeah. About thirty minutes ago. I'm in a taxi on my way to your house." A laugh sounded on the other end; it was melodious, and she instantly felt that this was a girl she would be blessed to know. "It's your house now," Kendra amended. "You're paying a third. You have your speaking rights."
A thought occured to her. "Excuse me, but . . . who else is living with us?"
"I didn't tell you?" Sounding bewildered, Kendra sighed. "I'm sorry. Her name is Andrea Dolten. She's not home often, though. Very private."
"Alright. Well, I'll see you when I get there."
"See you soon, then, Sakura."
The line beeped, and the call ended.
Sakura settled back into her seat, and waited.
----------------
The apartment was two stories, with stucco walls made to look like an adobe. It was an offwhite, and the parking lot was jam-packed with all assortments of cars. As Sakura handed the taxi driver a wad of bills, she stared up at her new home.
Here was her new, altered life. No familiarity. She couldn't quite comprehend the reality of it; not a subdued reaction, but a sense of being displaced.
With a deep breath, she bent to wrap her hands around her luggage handles. As she straightened, they bit into her hands, and the weight made her feel as if she would topple over. Luckily, they had wheels on the end of them, and she yanked them along behind her, feet dodging being run over.
Sakura glanced at the hastily scrawled on paper in her hand. Second floor, Apartment 2A. With a groan that rumbled in her throat, she set her mouth in a grim line of determination, and firmly excuded all her strength to pull the luggage up the stairs.
When she reached the top, she was just under panting for breath. Teetering forward, she rapped her fist on the solid door. Almost immediatley, it swung open, and she smelled the amazing aroma of pasta. Hungry and tired, she gazed ahead of her at the girl holding the door open.
And almost blew over at her personality.
"You must be Sakura!" she grinned, flashing white teeth. She was a tall girl, 5'8 at the least, with brown hair cut short to accentuate her face. A hunk of it fell over one eye, and she tossed her head back to reveal the other gray/blue iris. "Come in, come in."
With a flourish, Kendra held the door wide, and rushed forward to help carry her most heavy baggage. With a surprised and bewildered glance, Sakura saw her pull up the bags with amazing ease. She had a Herculean for a roomate!
"Thank you," she automatically said in Japanese, then blushed and repeated it in English. The girl only smiled in response, clearly not minding the slip. "We could use the culture in here," she remarked later.
"This is the inside of our humble abode." A glance around the place had Sakura feeling satisfied.
A dark blue couch sat off to the immediate right from the door, a few blankets folded and put atop it. Ahead of that, a round glass kitchen table with four comfortable chairs occupied the rest of that side. The kitchen was spacious enough, with a dishwasher, refrigerator, sink, stove and cupboards. Candles and wine bottles, seemingly more for decoration than drinking, as well as framed pictures sat atop the counters. Another couch spread itself in the living room, longer and brown. Across from it was the entertainment system, with surround sound speakers and a bookshelf carrying masks and more candles, poppuri and foreign objects.
The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and Sakura immediatley felt at home.
"I imagine you want to know more about me, right?" Kendra's voice sounded from behind her, and Sakura was dragged back from her perusal. With a glance to her left, she shrugged and inclined her head in agreement with her question.
"I'm nineteen. I graduated last year, and I'm going to UCLA. Hm . . I major in Physcology, and minor in Film Arts. I'm originally from Ohio, but I moved to California when I was eight."
Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but Kendra rushed on.
"I like old movies, new movies, but I hate anything in between. I listen to music that describes how I feel, so watch out for System of a Down." At Sakura's blank look, she waved it off.
"I'm agnostic, but my parents are Christian Scientists." She shuddered. "I cook, but my culinary skills won't be taken advantage of. I adore men and hats, of any kind. Okay?"
Sakura felt as if a tsunami had just blown her over, but she just nodded in the face of such energy. Sensing her next question would be to inquire about her personality, Sakura gathered her bags together and asked, "Which room is mine?"
"Oh! Of course." Walking through the living room, she entered the beginning of what looked like a hallway. With the lift and point of a finger, she gestured toward the door on the immediate right. "This is it."
When she arrived next to Kendra, Sakura blinked to scan the hallway and find only two rooms. "Where does Andrea sleep?"
"I told you; she doesn't come here very often. When she does, she actually prefers to crash on the couch. That's why I was able to get another roomate." For a moment, Kendra looked troubled by this, then it vanished and she smiled again.
Sakura reached over and twisted the knob, then pushed open the door.
Her first glimpse of her room was wraut with satisfaction. A queen sized bed lay in the middle, underneath a wide window where the sun spilled in. A desk, brown leather chair and tall lamp stood on the right side of the room. Walking in and depositing her luggage on the immediate inside of the room, she peered around and noted the two white doors on the first left wall. She opened them and found a spacious closet with some hangers already placed for her benefit, and a nightstand next to the bed.
Turning to Kendra, she smiled and said, "Thank you."
"No problem. Listen, I have to get back to the pasta. Dinner in fifteen."
Her spirits soaring admirably, Sakura nodded and smiled in return.
Then she fell back on her bed of queens.