I'm just going to put it out of my mind. I'm going to forget every detail of what happened. I'm not going to think about Jounouchi or how he stuck up for me or about his "flattery" or how sexy his accent was or the way he stormed away with no explanation. I will not wonder about the weird way my heart is acting when I think about that piece of paper with those words that is now folded up and tucked away in my jewelry box. The paper is there; it's safe. And that's all I ever need know of it.

So I am not going to think about it anymore.

I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and fall onto one of the tall stools standing in front of the island counter. Harpy pads across the kitchen and crouches, wiggling her behind a bit before launching herself onto the flat surface. She touches her cold nose to mine briefly, purring like a motor. Pet me, pet me… Her inner voice chants. I stroke her head and scratch under her chin.

"Why can't we talk?" I ask, sighing. It wasn't that we didn't, really, I talked to Harpy plenty. Sometimes I think she even understands. But no matter how much I love her and enjoy her company, I catch myself wanting more. Wanting someone who can think in a more complicated structure and talk back.

I've never actually had that before, even when I was younger. My mother and father were too busy working to talk to me, and then, so suddenly, dad was gone. After that, things between mom and I just got more and more strained the older I got. Then it broke, and now here I am. I remember parts of my childhood, though, where dad sometimes spoke to me. It wasn't for long, and it was rare. Usually it was about work or things I didn't want to know – or was too young to understand.

For example:

"The passion leaves a marriage surprisingly fast, Mai. It can be hard on a man when his wife is more ambitious in her career than he is. It's a bit emasculating. I still love her, of course I do, but the fire dies into an ember."

Nice thing to say to your child, isn't it? But the worst was the stuff they didn't tell me. I'd only caught little hints from them, because it was before I had fully developed my talent, but I knew. They were both desperate. They both felt trapped. They wanted strong careers and, even though they still loved and believed, they were holding each other back. They were at the point where being in love had died into just love.

But I didn't say anything about it to them. The way I figured it, keeping quiet was safe. But then dad left. And then, two year later...

"Sometimes the symptoms don't add up." Both doctors and my mother told me. "Even the most brilliant diagnosticians can get fooled by mother nature. Everything pointed to a collapsed lung, which can easily happen in tall, thin men like him when exercising. We had him lay down for a couple minutes to get an X-ray, but he didn't have a collapsed lung after all. A complication from undiagnosed Marfan syndrome. Thoracic aortic dissection. And he died."

He died. After everything he'd put my mother and I through, he died in the end, anyway.

The phone screams at me and I jump. Harpy gets startled. too. She leaps into the air, flails, and slips right off the counter before taking off at mach speed to my room. I have to take a short moment to slow my racing heart before I sliding off my stool and walking over to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"I am looking for a Mai Valentine?" A professional female voice says on the other end.

"This is she." I reply, readying myself for another sales call. "Can I help you?"

"I apologize for the disturbance, M'am."

"No problem. May I ask who this is?"

"My name is Officer Risa Gray. I work for the Domino Police Department."

I blink, surprised, and answer, "What exactly does the police want with me?"

"You are the daughter of a Ms. Jane Valentine*, correct?"

"I am." What did the police want with my mother? "However, I haven't spoken to her in a long time."

"You may want to sit down, Ms. Valentine."

My fingers feel like they're glued to the phone.
"What is this about?"

"There has been an accident."

"An accident…?"

"Yesterday, at 6:48 pm, there was a very serious car accident. A man while driving under the influence was traveling on the wrong side of the road. He impacted your mother in a head-on collision..." Suddenly, I can't hear the Officer, even though I'm pressing the receiver into my ear so hard that it'll leave an indent. Her voice washes over me like waves, weaving in and out of the static blaring in my head. "…destroyed…Mrs. Valentine…flipped…did everything they…lost too much…died…the crash…found your number…" I'm tuned out. I can't hear anything she says at all now.

Jane Valentine died at the scene of the crash.
Died…at the scene of the crash.

She died at the…
Died…

My mother is dead.

I have stopped breathing. Every muscle in my body is clenched, as though trying to squeeze me back into a calm state. But I am calm. I don't think I'm calm. I feel my mouth open, and I should use it to say something, but nothing comes out. Not even air. All I can do is grip the phone so tight that it may crack under the pressure. My stomach is hanging somewhere below my knees. Through my daze, I feel fur brush on my arm, and I slowly look over to see that Harpy has returned, sitting on the table next to me.

She stares at me, and I stare back.
Her green eyes suddenly look spooky and alien to me.

I stay silent, waiting for someone to speak. The officer must be waiting for me to say something, though. Or maybe she thinks I've hung up. I don't know if I should - or if I even can. Even though I understood what I'd just learned, it was like the pieces were still connecting. I was stuck in a state of blankness. I should speak. I should breathe. I should relax. I should…I…

Suddenly, instead of not breathing, I'm trying to suck in all the oxygen on the planet. It rips down my throat at alarming speed. Harpy paws at my arm, knowing something is wrong. I lean over, place a hand on the table. Try to gain control. But I just breathe in again. Breathe in. Breathe in. Breathe in. My lungs are so full they're going to explode. I need to remember how to get it out. There are black, fuzzy spots forming in my vision.

"…Ms. Valentine? Ms. Valentine?" Officer Gray's voice finally breaks through my distress. "Are you alright?"

I don't answer. I can't. Still breathing in. Gripping the phone as if it's a lifeline.

"Ms. Valentine? Are you alright?" She repeats in a slow, clear voice. "Do you need help? Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

I finally snap out of my stupor. Like a balloon popping, the air whooshes right out of my lungs, breaking the barrier in my mouth. I breathe in again, and this time I'm able to breathe it back out. "No, I…" I twist my shaking fingers into a fist and shake my head. "I'm fine…I'm…I don't need anyone."

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Officer Gray tells me gently. I know she's trying to help, but I can't help but feel like this is the wrong thing to say. It wasn't her fault. I don't realize that I had zoned out again until I hear her say, "Your grandmother has already claimed the body and started funeral arrangements. We have her number if you wish to contact her. The date for the reading of your mothers will has been set as well. Again, you'll need to talk to your grandmother for more fine details."

"I...yeah. Sure. Okay. Let me just...get a pen and paper."

The rest of our conversation passes swiftly, but it feels as if bombs are going off, one by one, shaking my body so violently that, by the time we hang up, I have to collapse. I stumble backward and my back hits the wall. Then I slide, slide, slide down until I'm sitting on the floor. I lift my shaking fingers to my temples, hesitate, then put them down again. I close my eyes and breathe deep through my mouth, but this only makes me feel weak. I bend my head over so it's resting against my knees.

There is so much noise in my mind, I can't tell if the little pecking of thoughts I hear are Harpy's or mine. Maybe it's both. I want to get out, but I can't make myself move. I can only repeat the same thing in my head. My mother is dead. She's gone. Mom doesn't exist anymore. Over and over the words go by, like some kind of mantra. And I can't focus on anything else except this unexpected, unwelcome news.

I sit like that until my rumbling stomach and Harpy's angry shouts of Hungry, mama! break through the fog. I get up, my joints popping, and get her some food. Then I open my fridge and spend a good five minutes just staring into it before I snap back to reality and grab some deli meat. Then, once eating all the turkey that was left in the bag, I'm on the couch. I stare at the wall until I can no longer keep my eyes open.

I fall asleep on the couch like that. I sleep like a corpse all evening and night, finally coming back to life when the sun's rays start peaking over the horizon and into my window. I feel completely ill, and, when I drag myself into the bathroom and look in the mirror, I look like someone had parked a tank on my face – my hair sticking up ungracefully in every direction, my makeup smudged under my red-rimmed eyes. I undress and step into the shower instead of taking a bath, and I don't sing. Usually I sing.

But I don't break down and I don't cry. I'm glad I don't, but I don't know why. It seems strange to me.

*Neither of Mai's parents were given names in the manga or anime, so I made one up.