The next few days were spent with us staying in Sylia's place in San Francisco, with everyone recovering from the battle at Genom Tower and generally me getting reacquainted with everyone again. So much had happened in the last few days, and we hadn't really had time to enjoy our reunion before our mission beckoned us. But now, we could be a family again.

Linna had to be on crutches for several days to let her leg heal, but otherwise she was in good spirits. Xania had initially freaked out when she saw the cut on my throat, but ended up laughing when I told her that was what had sent me into a blackout. "Son of a bitch deserved it!" she asserted. "Every bit of it!"

Katherine Madigan was dead, and the papers confirmed as such, but Genom spokespeople had denied anything had gone on at the Genom Tower in San Fran the night we raided it. They would only say that she had suffered a massive heart attack. Heh, right. A heart attack. But they definitely weren't mincing words there; she'd literally had a heart attack. Yup, attacked by a railgun needle! Quincy made a comment stating that the loss of Madigan was regretful, but that Genom's mission would continue on, and so he resumed his place as Genom CEO. I never did figure out why he'd had Madigan replace him as CEO anyway, but Sylia would say that publicly declaring her a CEO was probably just a warning directed at us, with no true merit behind it. A formality, perhaps, just to give her the power she desired so she could come chasing after us.

In the end, it didn't matter to me. She was dead either way, and I, for one, would not be mourning her death.

As for the package I had dubbed Daisy…in the weeks after the incident at Genom Tower, the U.N. had made an official statement saying, in layman's terms, that some 'new information' regarding the summit incident had come to their attention, and that until this information was processed and gone over with a fine-tooth comb, that Genom was not to conduct any more research on new types of Combat Boomers. Supposedly, the accounts for those kinds of research were frozen, but we all knew better than to think that would be the end of it. They must've had some kinds of secret accounts or secret research or other kinds of bullshit like that going on. But when questioned, Sylia didn't elaborate. She said we had done our piece; now it was time for the U.N. and the news feeds who'd received Daisy to do their work. The best I could do was take her word for it; she knew what she was talking about.

Near the end of April, Mom, who had decided to stick around in California for a while for some reason, surprised me with the very reason why she HAD stuck around. After I got out of school, I headed to the gym for my usual tai chi lesson with Kenneth, only to arrive and see that the parking lot was almost completely empty. I scratched my head and wondered what was going on, until Mom emerged from inside and dragged me in, saying she had a surprise for me.

"What's all this?" I asked, looking around the gym. There were cameras set up everywhere, catching every possible angle of the uneven bars, the floor, the beam, and the vault. "Am I getting filmed?"

"Yup," she said, patting me on the shoulder. "When I was in New York, I talked with a member of the IOC. He acknowledged there were extenuating circumstances as to why you've been out of competition, and what he recommended was that we send him a piece of recent film with you in action. He and the other guys on the board will look it over, and see if they can get you into the trials in Osaka in three weeks."

"…REALLY?" I exclaimed. "They'll really allow that?"

"They said it'd have to be in their hands within the week of us filming this, and that they'd have to have it by the end of the month. That's in a couple days, so we gotta hustle."

"You rented out the whole gym for this?"

"Don't want any gawkers," she joked, sticking a tongue out at me.

"I don't mind an audience, Mom."

"Still, might be better for you to have as little distraction as possible, especially since everything you've been wanting is riding on what we're doing today."

Kenneth walked up to me. "This is secret, right?" I asked him. "You haven't told anyone she's here?"

"Not a word," he said. "I wish you'd let me known sooner that Miss Asagiri was your mother though."

"For the sake of privacy," I said timidly. Boy, was I understating it there. All he knew was that I was really from Japan and was the daughter of Priss Asagiri, the singer. Everything else, he was ignorant about. After all, that 'everything else' wouldn't be able to be explained so easily. He seemed to sense that there were some things we didn't want to discuss, and so didn't press on those issues.

"What do you wanna start with?" Mom asked, adjusting one of the cameras.

"I need to go change first."

"Oh, ok, do that then."

I jogged to the locker room to get into my leotard. I don't think I had ever changed into that thing so fast in my life; I didn't even remember taking off my regular clothes. Suddenly I was in my favorite green leotard, tying my hair back into a ponytail. After adjusting my leg sleeve, I jogged back out to Mom and Kenneth.

"I'm ready!" I announced.

"So is she," Kenneth added, pointing to a new guest, who was standing by the windows.

"…Xania!"

"Yo!" she greeted, leaning on a weight-lifting bench. "Priss called me. Her English is pretty fucked up, but I got the gist of what she was tryin' to tell me."

I laughed. "Well, good! It's nice to see you here."

"So what're you doin' first?"

"Floor."

"CD ready?"

"Mom's got it."

I walked over to the far corner of the floor mat, getting myself warmed up. Mom and Kenneth both got into position, making sure all the camcorders were turned on and working properly. When I gave the signal, the camcorders started to roll, Xania turned on the CD player, and the first lyrics of the song I had chosen to accompany me on floor sang out, my signal to start my dance.

"The window burns to light the way back home…a light that warms no matter where they go…"

The week after Mom had turned in the tapes to the IOC was hell. As much as I was supposed to concentrate on school and study for finals, the only thing on my mind was whether I had been good enough on my exercises. I could've sworn they were supposed to get back to me on my results almost right away, but I admit I did have to cut them some slack; they were probably busy as hell doing other stuff for the Olympics. Couldn't just drop everything just to review my case…although part of me selfishly wished they did.

Had I remembered to do all of the required moves on the uneven bars? Did I go over the ninety-second limit on the floor? Had I wobbled when I landed upon completing vault? No…I couldn't let myself think about that. I had to stay positive. Worrying wouldn't do me any good; it was completely out of my hands now.

And then, at 2 AM Mom called, waking me from my fitful sleep. I rubbed one eye as I picked up the receiver, Mom's face appearing on the screen. "H-hello," I said, yawning. "Mom, what's up?"

"The IOC just called me," she said, grinning. "Took 'em forever to review the damn video, don't ya think?"

"They're just now getting back to you?"

"Yeah. I think they get some kinda sick pleasure out of watching us sit in suspense. Anyway, you might want to pack your bags. In two weeks we gotta head to Osaka."

My celebratory yelling woke up everyone in the house.

Irodia came running into my room, wondering if someone had broken in, but once I handed the receiver to her and let Mom tell her the news – I was too excited to speak coherently – she joined me in my yelling. Mikhaila and Tyler just stood there in the doorway half-asleep, looking at us like we were crazy. But I didn't care; let them think I was crazy! I was over the moon! Ever since I'd been shot I'd been wondering if I would ever have this opportunity. And here it was, ready for the taking. I just had to take that final step, and be among the seven girls who would get to catch that flight to Nairobi and fight for the gold.

Two weeks later, just before finals, Mom and I flew to Osaka for the NHK Cup, the trials. I'd been perfectly comfortable using English when I was in Sacramento, but now that I could freely speak Japanese with people besides Mom and my aunts, I felt like I could truly relax. I even tried out some of the bits of Osaka dialect that I knew, even if the only bits I knew were to say hen instead of nai for the negative verb endings, and saying denna instead of da for the sentence endings. It was fun, and I even got to see a few old teammates there, including Clara.

"You really made it to the trials!" she exclaimed after giving me the ultimate bear hug. "That's so great! I'm feeling so nervous right now!"

"Remember what I told you when you were trying out for the Kihi team," I reminded her.

"Yeah, I remember. Pretend you're just by yourself, like when you're practicing." She tightened her ponytail. "Yumeko, it's been so long. How have you been? I heard about Michiko..."

I nodded, casting my eyes down for a moment. "I had to get away for a while. Too much stuff in too little time. But I'm back, and ready to kick some ass today! How about you?"

"Yeah!" she vehemently agreed. "Let's do our best!"

"All of you, do your best!" a familiar voice corrected from the stands. Clara and I turned around, and there in the front row were Mom, Linna, and Nene, waving and cheering. I smiled and gave them a thumbs-up.

"Yeah. We'll all do our best," I said.

"LADIES!" the coach yelled out, snapping my group to full attention. "This is the NHK Cup! Dozens of girls here all with the same dream you have, to get to Nairobi! It is not an easy journey to make!" He fanned his hand out, showing us the other teams. "All these girls…and only ten will go; seven team members, and three alternates. I want ALL of you to do your routines like you've never done them before. Several of you have been to Worlds; thought THAT was tough? This is five times worse! The pressure is on all of you today to step it up. If you fail, you'll have to wait another four years for your next shot. I know you don't want to wait another four years, do you?"

"No, sir!" we all yelled.

"Good! Make this count! A 9.5 ain't gonna fly here, so if you've been content with that, you're not gonna make the team. Is anyone here content with that?"

"No, sir!"

"Thought not! Let's open up a can of whoop-ass on these other girls, all right?"

"YEAH!" everyone cheered.

"Asagiri!"

"Yes, sir!" I said.

He motioned towards the balance beam. "The beam's all yours, kid. Make it beg."

"Yes, sir!"

I could feel the hush fall over the crowd as I approached the balance beam, the loudspeakers announcing my name. "Yumeko Asagiri on balance beam." I let out a breath, feeling like I'd been holding it for forever. This was my moment. The beam had always been my adversary, but now I was going to have it at my mercy, just like the coach had told me to do. I had to move like I'd lived my whole life on that beam. And so I would.

I ran up to the end of the beam, doing a front aerial flip, my feet touching down gracefully on the end of the beam. I did a front-handspring, followed by two back-hand ones. I turned around, did another back-handspring, then did the splits in the air as I did another backwards flip. As I was about to touch down on the beam again, I spread my legs, throwing them down on both sides of the beam, drawing them back up so that I was doing yet another backwards flip. I touched my feet down on the beam again, standing up, the applause roaring in my ears. My favorite kind of music.

The rest of the routine went just as I had imagined it would go, and at the end I did several more back-handsprings, then a backwards aerial flip as I dismounted, landing on the mat with hardly a bounce at all. As I drew my arms back in my finishing pose, the audience roared again. I relaxed and went back to the sidelines, my whole team cheering.

"That was awesome!"

"You looked so graceful!"

"You OWNED that beam!"

After a moment, the results came up on the board. I looked down. "I can't look," I mumbled. "Could someone tell me?"

Clara looked up, mouthing the numbers to herself. "Average of 9.71, Yumeko! That's great!" The rest of the team nodded, voicing their agreement.

"What a routine," the coach said. "If you can pull that off on the other three, you'll be a shoo-in, Asagiri. Blue leg of steel, that's what you've got!"

I looked down at my leg, covered in its usual blue sleeve. No wonder he'd called it that. "You have no idea how close you are," I said, a small smile crossing my lips.

I would've hardly called myself a shoo-in, but then again, I wasn't the most boastful type, either. Everyone here had a fair shot at making the team; I couldn't let any sort of ego go to my head, for it could be my undoing. I'd seen it happen several times; it was a bigger deciding factor in the outcome of competitions than even injury sometimes. And still, I did have three more exercises left: the floor, the uneven bars, and the vault. There was no ruling anybody in or out, not yet…

Several days in Osaka for the NHK Cup, and then right back to Sacramento to take the school finals. Being psyched for the trials had almost made me forget all of my studying, but luckily – sorta – for me, Irodia was there to harp on me to get it done. Finals lasted for a few days, then a couple more days later, the results of my tests came in the mail. I'd passed. I would graduate with the others. The ceremony was set for June 3rd, only five days before my eighteenth birthday.

The ceremony itself went ok. The principal of the school made a speech, then the school choir sang, and the valedictorian, who just happened to be Juliana, spoke as well. Following that was the presentation of the diplomas, contained in dark blue diploma folders. All the students were in assigned seats based on last name, and row by row we all went up backstage, and when the principal called out a student's name, that student would go up, take the diploma folder into his hand, and shake the principal's hand, with the principal congratulating him.

After everyone in my row got their folders and were able to sit down again, I opened up my folder. There in big, bold, cursive writing in the middle of the diploma was my fake name: Rocío María Monterrey. I smirked to myself and closed it. I would definitely have to have Nene get the name changed on it when I got back home to Tokyo. But for now, I had one last chance to hang out with everyone.

After the graduating class switched the tassels to the other side of the cap and tossed them into the air, the class song blaring in the background, I picked up my cap – or at least what I thought was my cap; everyone's were mixed up now – and hunted Xania down.

"Hey girl!" she cheered, grabbing me hard. "We're outta school now! How's that?"

"It's awesome!" I exclaimed. "No more essays!"

"Amen to that!"

Juliana, Sara, and Mikhaila quickly joined us, beaming much the same way Xania and I were. Juliana looked cool as a cucumber as always, while Sara immediately started in on her Spanish. "Rocío, Rocío, tengo que practicar mi español contigo. Si vas, yo…"

"You won't forget," I assured her. "And how do you know I'm leaving?"

"I just have a feeling."

"You're going to college, right? Keep up on it there."

She got the most adorable sad face I'd ever seen on anyone. "But it's more fun when it's not in a classroom."

"Grow up," Juliana joked, hitting her on the back of the head.

"Cool speech, Juls," Xania said.

"I could never do that," Mikhaila added, shuddering. "Speaking in front of a crowd…ugh, no way!"

"Well," Juliana said pointedly, turning towards the redhead, "I WAS on the debate team. I better know how to talk in front of people! And it wasn't that bad, really." She watched as everyone, including me, paled. "Oh, come on! It takes practice!"

"Yes, like William Tell needing practice to hit the apple," Xania spat, chuckling at the same time.

"Who?" I asked.

"Nothin', nothin'."

I decided not to inquire further. "So what's everyone gonna do now?" I asked. "Travel, work, any of that happy crap?"

"I scored an internship in DC," Juliana said. "I'll get to work under the president's speechwriter's wing."

"Sleep," Mikhaila chirped.

"Work part-time to save money," Sara replied.

"What about you, Xania?" Juliana asked.

"Yeah, yeah, what ABOUT you?" Mikhaila agreed.

Xania just grinned. "That's for me to know, and Rosho to find out."

"Huh?" was all I could say. What did she mean by that? I soon found out, for she excused us both and dragged me over to the edge of the park, into the shade of a tree.

"Look at this," she said, unzipping her graduation gown. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. "Read it."

I did so. "This is…an acceptance letter to UC-Berkeley." I looked up at her in shock. "I thought you didn't want to attend college. You said…"

"I know what I said, but…" She grew timid, very unlike her. "Even renegade kids like me have dreams. I'd always wanted to go to college, but no one believed in me. Even my foster mom hasn't held any faith. She always said that if a college ever did accept me, that I'd have to pay my own way, that she wasn't gonna give me any handouts. Anything after high school would have to be done on my own."

"So, what? You got a scholarship?"

"Uh…sorta."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I inquired. "You don't 'sorta' get a scholarship."

"When we were in San Fran when the whole Tower thing went down…me and your friend Sylia started talkin'. She was really curious about me, asked all kinds of shit. And I told her somethin' that nobody else knows about."

"Like what?"

"Well, you know about me bein' a foster kid an' all. I always hated social workers, hated the whole fuckin' system. It's a cesspool of…people who care more about their paycheck than about the kids they're supposed to look out for. I told her it's a shithole, and that I feel sorry for any kid who's gotta go through the system. I also told her that I…I think that although it IS a shithole, somebody's gotta go in there and make it right, make everything work."

"YOU want to be a social worker?"

"Not so loud," she shushed, her face beet red. "Y-yeah. I told Sylia that. And she said somethin' about the Knight Sabers not being able to make the world a better place by themselves. She said it's people like me that'll have to do it. And you know what she's gonna do, Rosho? She said that she would pay for all four years of college for me, plus grad school if I wanna go; 'It's something I'm willing to invest in,' she said. 'Your future.' She encouraged me to apply to all the schools I wanted to, since money wouldn't be a problem. I applied to ten schools, but only two accepted me, and UC-Berkeley's the only one in-state, so…"

"That's awesome!" I exclaimed. "I really think you'll be able to help those kids out. You can relate to them better than anybody."

Xania got a shy grin on her face. "You think so?"

"Sure I do! You can relate to the stresses and repercussions of coming from a broken home. And I can tell that ever since you revisited your old house in Needles, you've been…how do I put it…not as rowdy. You've been a lot mellower."

"Mellower? I haven't noticed…"

"You're not as mad. You're…happy."

"I'm always happy!"

"Ornery is more like it," Linna chimed in. Xania and I spun around and saw her standing by another nearby tree. I really wished she wouldn't do that, appear out of nowhere.

"Linna!" we both exclaimed.

"So now you're both high school grads. How does it feel?"

"Liberating," I said.

"Kinda scary," Xania admitted.

"But at least you're going to college in the fall. You'll have the whole summer to plan," Linna pointed out.

"Yeah…"

"Where's Mom and the others?" I asked.

"They're still looking for you. I'll page 'em and tell 'em I found you." She reached into her pocket and pressed a button on her pager. "There."

"How's your leg?"

Linna leaned down to look me in the face. "Yumeko, you ask that every time we see each other. And I'm telling you again, it's fine."

"I know, but…I'm just making sure."

"You don't need to make sure. You always get worried about other people getting hurt, and that's admirable, but sometimes you just have to stop that when you know it's not that bad."

"It looked like it hurt."

"It did," she allowed, nodding, "but I can use it fine now. There won't even be any scarring. Do you want me to keep asking about your throat?"

I smirked and pulled down the collar on my gown, revealing a thin scar. "It's fine. You can barely see the scar. Just another battle wound for me."

"We've all had our share, you more than others."

"Must you bring that up?"

"Yes I must!"

Xania just laughed. "Oh, by the way, Xania," Linna said, turning to her, "has Yumeko told you yet?"

"Told me what?" she inquired.

"Show her, Yumeko," she said, turning to me again. I nodded and unzipped my gown, pulling out an envelope much in the same fashion Xania had just done. I handed it to her. "Read it," I said.

She ripped open the envelope, unfolding the letter inside. I laughed as her face went blank. "Rosho, you know I can't read Japanese!" she protested.

"I know," I joked, "so I'll tell you what it says. It basically says that of all the dozens of girls who were at the trials, that only seven made the team, with three more girls as alternates. It also says that some girl named Yumeko Asagiri made the number-five spot."

Xania gaped at me, letting the letter slip from her hand and fall to her feet. "You…made it?"

I grinned impishly. "Uh-huh."

The next thing I knew, I was being tackled to the grass, a monkey-tailed girl on top of me with her arms around my neck, laughing and giggling. "AWESOME! You're goin' to Nairobi! That's friggin' awesome! I knew you could do it!"

"Looks like you told her, huh?" I heard Mom say. I looked up over Xania's shoulder and saw her, Nene, and Sylia walk up beside Linna, everyone amused at the sight. Mom was wearing a red sundress and dark shades, with her hair tied up, hidden under a broad-rimmed straw hat. I thought she looked kinda silly, and so did she, but if anyone knew Priss Asagiri was at this graduation, she would get more attention than the graduates.

"Yup," I wheezed. "Air!" Xania gasped and let go of me, apologizing, all the while still with a wide grin on her face.

"So Sara was right when she figured you'd be leaving soon!" she realized.

"Yeah. She was. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"You can't stick around to celebrate your birthday with everyone?"

"Nope, 'fraid not. The sooner I get to Nairobi, the sooner I can get used to the altitude, and the sooner I can get some serious practice done before the Olympics start in August."

"I understand, but…that sucks."

"College is gonna be your version of the Olympics. You gotta do your best too, ok?"

"I will!"

"Xania in college," a guy's voice said from above us. "Didn't think I'd hear that phrase." We both stood up, looking at the owner of the voice. Greg.

"Geez, everyone's here!" I said.

"So introduce me, Rocío," he laughed. "Who are all these ladies here?"

I pointed at each of them, saying their names in turn. "My aunts, Sylia, Nene, and Linna. And this is my mom."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said, holding his hand out for Mom. She took it and shook it, nodding and mumbling, "You too," in accented English. "So what're you studying, Xania?"

"Studying to save the world, one kid at a time," she said.

"A social worker, huh?"

"Screw you."

Greg laughed again. "I want to talk with Rocío in private, if that's ok."

"Heh, I guess everyone wants her in private today!" she joked as Greg led me away from the group. Sure DID seem that way now!

"What is it?" I asked.

"I told you I was going to join the Army after school. Well, they accepted me. I'm leaving for boot camp tomorrow."

"Good for you. I'm leaving tomorrow too, for different reasons."

"I think I can guess what those reasons would be," he mused, grinning. "Would I be right?"

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then yes."

"That's wonderful." He scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking shy. "I guess we won't be seeing each other for a while then."

"I guess not." I turned to look at Xania, who was chatting with Nene and the others. "She's still in love with you, you know. She admitted as much to me over spring break."

"She did? Not like her to admit anything like that."

"She sorta said it indirectly. But…she basically told me the reason she broke up with you is that she found out about you wanting to join the Army. She was afraid you were going to abandon her. She won't admit it, but she's insecure."

"I know," he said. "And I tried telling her I would take care of her."

"But you can't do that if you're off at boot camp."

"Exactly."

"She's right over there. Why don't you go and talk with her, straighten things out? Maybe things'll work themselves out."

"I'm not so sure. This IS Xania we're talking about."

"Stop being a pussy and go over there!" I teased, shoving him in Xania's direction. She turned and looked at him for a moment, offering a shy smile. Greg asked if he could talk with her, and she reluctantly agreed. While they went off somewhere else to chat, I turned to Sylia.

"What is it, Yumeko?" she asked.

"I was wondering, could you take me somewhere? I'll give you directions, but there's somebody else I need to say goodbye to before we leave tomorrow."

"Who?" Mom asked.

I smiled. "Two guys Greg introduced me to. They've helped me through some rough patches, and I need to thank them for what they've done. Show 'em my appreciation and all."

My aunts, Mom, and I took a trip downtown, with me taking off my cap and gown and handing them to Mom. Didn't want them getting dirty, although if I was a normal girl I probably would've been more worried about the sundress I wore underneath it getting dirty. No matter; once we got to our destination, I got out of the car and told everyone to wait there. "They don't like strangers stopping in," I explained.

It had always seemed like that whenever I did stop by and wait in the alley by the dumpster, that it never took long before somebody let me inside. I'd looked around for security cameras and the like, but I never saw any. I suppose that would be a little conspicuous that something was hidden in the alley, though. Anyway, it proved true again today, for I only stood there for a couple minutes before the door behind the dumpster opened, and the somebody who'd opened it pushed the dumpster aside.

Bert wolf-whistled when he saw me. "Well, well, well!" he said, grinning. "Somebody dressed up today!"

"I just graduated today," I said. "And they wouldn't let the girls wear jeans under their gowns, so I went with this."

"Let's get inside, huh?" I nodded and helped him pull the dumpster back into place as we went inside, me holding my nose once again as we descended the staircase into the shooting gallery. Juan, as usual, was there, cleaning a pistol, and he did a double-take when he saw me walk in behind Bert.

"Hot damn!" he sputtered, almost dropping the pistol. "Why dontcha come in here all the time like dat, huh?"

"Our little firecracker here just graduated!" Bert announced, gesturing to me. "No longer held down by the system!"

"Congratulations, Rocío!" Juan said, genuinely meaning it. "You done yourself good."

"Thanks, Juan." I looked from him to Bert. "Anyway, I came by today to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Bert repeated. "Where're ya goin'?"

"Tomorrow I'm heading for Nairobi."

"…You made it?"

"Sure did."

"Kid, that's awesome," he said, slapping me on the back. "I'll keep an eye out for ya in the news."

"Thanks."

"Before ya leave, you sure you don't need any more ammo for your Spitdevil or anythin'?"

"I'm alright. 'Sides, I think my mom can hook me up when I get home. I don't think I'll be needing it for a while. And I'm sorry I can't go to San Fran with you. Blowing up junkyard cars really did sound like fun."

"Hey, that's alright, kid. Not sure I'd be able to go myself, anyhow. Somebody's gotta watch the place."

"What about Juan?"

"Bert's the big honcho here, not me," Juan interjected.

"I'm hopin' you ain't gonna ask for any more of the little white bottles, if you get my drift," Bert reminded me.

"Oh, no, I'm not. I poured out my last one once I made the trials. I haven't come this far just to sabotage myself."

"No withdrawal or anything?"

"I didn't take it THAT much," I said curtly.

"What about after you get home? Gonna get right back on the juice?" He actually looked a little concerned, a look I never expected from him.

"Why are you worried about that? I'm not your daughter, and you're not my father."

"Like I said before, kid," he said, sighing as he struck a match to light a cigarette, "it's way too easy to get hooked. Once you get off from your Olympic high, you just might turn back to your liquid gold."

"Well, hopefully by the time I get back home I won't be so pissed at the world," I replied. "And hopefully my leg won't hurt as much either. I made the Olympic team! This is as good as my leg is gonna get! If I still need my morphine now, I'm in trouble!"

"No shit."

"That's ok though," I said cheerfully. "It's pretty dry in Nairobi, so I'm not anticipating any pain problems."

"And if you have any?"

"Then there's plenty of specialists there who can help. Don't worry about it. Hell, after everything that's happened in the last year for me, I think I'm entitled to enjoy myself now! Don't you think?"

"For someone who's been to hell and back, like you, damn straight you are," he agreed, taking a pull on his cigarette. "You're perfectly entitled."

"Go Team USA!" Juan mock-cheered, grinning as Bert shot him an annoyed look.

"Oh, no, no, don't root for Team USA!" I corrected.

"Why not?" Bert inquired. "Ain't you on…?" I shook my head and headed back towards the stairs, with them following me so they could 'lock up' after I left.

"Nope," I said matter-of-factly.

"Then what team should we be watchin' for ya on?"

I smiled to myself. "You'll see me. Don't worry. You'll know me when you see me."

It seemed like for the entire next twenty-four hours after Yume's graduation that we were going from one place to another, saying goodbyes. First it was her girlfriends right after the ceremony, then the guys at the shooting gallery, and then last but not least, her 'foster family.' I had the translator headphones on so I could understand what they were saying, but it wasn't anything I hadn't expected. The usual hugging and 'good lucks' and all that, and despite what Yume had said on her vidletters about fighting with Mikhaila all the time, the two girls actually looked civil, and even hugged. She hugged Tyler too, as he told her to kick ass in Nairobi. Like everybody else, Mikhaila and Tyler were let in on the truth…not the part about all of us being Knight Sabers, but generally that we had to lie about the whole Mexico story so she could have some privacy. They seemed to understand, although Mikhaila blurted out something about, "I KNEW you weren't speaking Spanish when you were recording those things! I knew it didn't sound like Spanish! And no wonder, it wasn't!"

The following day we had all of her things packed, and we headed for San Francisco International Airport for the trip to Nairobi. Even on the supersonic jets the flight took six hours, enough that by the time we got to Nairobi and checked into a hotel, we crashed right away.

Yume's eighteenth birthday wasn't marked by a party or anything like that. She just wanted to get in some light practice until her lungs adapted to the altitude. She felt that just making it to Nairobi and having me there with her was enough of a present. Of course, I protested, but she insisted, and so I had to give in. But still, she did get a surprise on that day, in the form of a visit from her rival at Worlds almost two years prior.

"Yumeko Asagiri!" the caramel-haired girl called out when she walked into the practice room, Yume doing some simple moves for her floor exercise. Yume stopped and practically spun around. From the look on her face, I could tell she was joyous.

"…Sonja?" Yume exclaimed.

"Yes, it's me," she said plainly, smiling. Yume ran over to her, asking how she was. "I'm good. Last Worlds, no fun wizzout you."

"I got shot," she said.

"I know, I know. Everyone know zat. How is the leg now?" she asked, pointing to the sleeve-clad leg.

"It's good. I worked like hell to get it better." She grinned as she clenched a fist in front of her for Sonja to see. "I wanted to get my revenge for two years ago. This time I'll be the one getting the gold!"

"Oh, really? You will get gold?" Sonja laughed, but not in a menacing manner. It was more like a friendly laugh, like competing at the Olympics of all places was no big deal. "Not if I can help it."

"You might get the gold in beam, but I'll take the bars!"

"I take all-around!"

"I will!"

"Oh, no. You will have accident on beam again, and get bronze all-around again."

Yume laughed and stuck her tongue out. "That was a fluke. This competition is mine."

"We'll see about zat, huh?"

"Yeah we will!"

It was all good-natured ribbing, which I was happy to see. Yume was never bitter towards anyone in the gymnastics world, even her worst rival Sonja. At least it was one world where she was happy with everyone. It was a place where she could really relax and enjoy herself.

Most of the time, I left her alone to practice. I naturally attracted lots of paparazzi, and having them follow me to the practice facilities would only distract her, and I didn't want that. So I ended up wandering about Nairobi a lot, and it only got worse when me and my band released the cover CD at the end of July. Reporters asking why I chose to perform The Show Must Go On instead of Bohemian Rhapsody, that kind of shit. Doing the major classics would've been cliché, I told them. It would be a nice change of pace for people not to hear the eleventh cover of Like A Virgin, and being a music fanatic, there were plenty of excellent songs that people today just didn't know about. I had to re-introduce those songs to the world, give them a new audience, give those people a new appreciation of unknown classics.

And the people seemed to respond. The CD went #1 in Japan, the US, and Europe. Max and Hiroshi were happy to hear that news, but it never was about whether a CD was successful or not to me. To me, it was about whether I enjoyed making the record or not. And despite the circumstances I had to record the CD under, I did enjoy making it. And despite the CD's immediate success, I didn't have time to celebrate. I had to cheer my daughter on, for the Olympics started the next week.

The Nairobi Olympics were to last two weeks, and each event usually took about one week to run its course. The first few days were just regular competition, with the top scorers going on to the finals to compete for the medals. For the all-around finals and the event finals, only two gymnasts from each country could advance, so in that sense Yume was also up against her own team members to get to the finals. Combine that with the team finals, and assuming Yume would make the all-around and the event finals, and she could potentially earn herself up to six medals. It hurt my head just thinking about it; I dunno how it affected Yume.

Whether it affected her or not, she didn't seem to show it during the qualifying rounds. She was all business, going about her routines like she'd done them a thousand times…which she probably had; God knew I wasn't able to attend every single practice. Her expression was like ice, even after the routines were over and she was able to go back to the bench. But that had been her reputation all these years: all business, no goofiness, her eye only on the prize with no roaming elsewhere. She couldn't afford to.

Her efforts in the qualifying rounds paid off. When the names for the gymnasts going into event finals and all-around finals came in, Yume's name was on both lists. Only then did she finally smile and give off a little shrug, like she knew it was coming.

"C'mon, give yourself a little credit," I joked.

"I gotta hand it to all those other girls out there," she admitted. "They're making my job hard!"

"Sonja's in those finals too."

"I saw that." She wiped at her face with the towel that hung around her neck. "I wouldn't have expected anything different from her. It really IS between her and me."

"Are you gonna go for six medals?"

Yume just smiled. "That'd be one hell of a standard to set. I'm not sure if any one gymnast has ever won six medals in one Olympics. Even Nadia Comaneci only managed five. Everyone has their strong points and their weak points. It'd be great to win six medals, but I'd be kidding myself if I said I would definitely get six. I'd be happy with a gold on the uneven bars."

"You're not gonna settle for just that!" I protested.

"Of course not!" she affirmed, making a face. "I'm still gonna give it my all on all the routines, and if I get gold, good. If I don't, it's not the end of the world."

All I could do was smile; Yume had said her entire life that her dream was to get to the Olympics; she had never mentioned anything about winning any medals; whether that was an unspoken truth or just something that she never gave thought to, I'm not sure. But as long as she had fun out there, I couldn't complain.

The apparatuses had a specific order in which they were done. First was vault, then the uneven bars, then balance beam, and finally, floor. The rules had been changed some years ago to allow the songs used for floor to have lyrics in them, and Yume had decided to take advantage of the rule and use such a song, and, in typical Yume fashion, didn't pick a classical piece. Before taking her turn on floor, she handed me a sheet of paper which had the lyrics, in English and Japanese, on it. Some song from the last century that she'd taken a liking to, she said. The song was over ninety seconds, so she had to trim it down to fit within the time constraint. She had boldfaced the lyrics that were in the part of the song she was using on floor. Before she went out on floor, I took a moment to read over the lyrics.

The window burns to light the way back home

A light that warms no matter where they go

They're off to find the hero of the day

But what if they should fall for someone's wicked way

Still the window burns, time so slowly turns (1)

Someone there is sighing

Keepers of the flame, do you hear your name?

Can you hear your babies crying?

Mama they try and break me…still they try and break me…

'Scuse me while I tend to how I feel

These things return to me that still seem real

Now deservingly this easy chair

But the rocking stopped by wheels of despair

Don't want your aid, but the first I've made

For years can't hold or feel

No I'm not all me, so please excuse me

While I tend to how I feel

But now the dreams and waking screams that everlast the night (2)

So build a wall, behind it crawl and hide until it's light

So can you hear your babies cryin' now?

(1) Repeat

(2) Repeat

Mama they try and break me

"Yume," I said to myself as she started her floor routine, and along with it, the song whose lyrics were in my hand, "is that how you feel?"

"She's very good," an old voice said next to me. I turned and saw an old man who looked to be in his seventies, wearing a casual suit and a fedora. "Very limber. You barely notice the sleeve on her leg at all."

I had to laugh. The uniforms for Team Japan were red with a white stripe that went diagonally from the left shoulder down to the right hip. Yume's sleeve, being blue, contrasted badly with it, but the old man was right; with how graceful she was, you'd hardly notice it, despite said contrast.

"That's my girl," I said proudly, nodding down at the girl below.

"I see the resemblance," he said, smiling as he stroked his chin, observing Yume. "You must be proud."

"I am."

"The crowd seems to be into it."

I nodded in agreement; everyone in the stands was clapping in time to the music, lending Yume their energy. She fed off of it, even if she showed no outward acknowledgment of it. I could tell, for she sped up her movements, although in truth, the music had truly picked up momentum at that moment as well. "Everyone's watching this kid," I said. "Everyone in the gymnastics world is waiting to see if she can truly make a comeback from the worst injury a gymnast can get."

I turned to get the man's input, but his seat was empty. He was gone.

I looked around my shoulder, then my other one, everywhere. He was nowhere to be seen. Vanished, just like that. "Huh," I said to myself, then shrugged slightly as my attention turned to Yume's final pose as the music faded out.

The crowd was at its feet, and I joined them, hollering her name loudly as I clapped and cheered, hoping in vain that she could hear me. And I swear she did, for at that moment, instead of just walking back to the bench, she turned and looked in my direction, and smiled.

"Now let's see what the judges say about that!" I said to myself as I turned to the scoreboard for the results.

Spending the summer in Nairobi was fun. The two weeks that comprised the Olympics were fun too. But the best part of all was that in the end, for the first time in a year, I was coming home to Tokyo. And when Team Japan's plane touched down and everyone got off the plane, practically everyone in the concourse cheered for us. It was almost embarrassing, but at the same time, I relished the attention. The ultimate in welcome-home parties, even if they didn't know I'd been out of the country since the beginning of last September.

Mom had quickly dragged herself and me away from the crowd and through the airport, with several reporters in hot pursuit, with me only to get off a quick goodbye to my teammates before she swept me away. Waiting for us outside was a black limo, with Nene waiting by the back door, grinning and holding a sign that said "Asagiri." I just laughed as she practically shoved us both into the back seat and climbed in after us, closing the door before the reporters could stick their heads inside.

"You hired a limo?" I remarked once we were settled and the limo pulled away from the airport.

"Of course," Nene laughed. "What, did you want to ride in the back of Mackie's pickup?"

"No, but maybe something a little less…showy."

"What's wrong with my pickup?" I heard Mackie inquire from the driver's seat of the limo.

"Mackie!" I exclaimed.

"Hi, Yumeko. Long time."

"Yeah, really long."

Sylia, sitting to Mom's right, reached into the built-in fridge and pulled out a champagne bottle and four glasses – I was still underage – and handed three of them to Mom, Linna, and Nene. She filled each of their glasses, followed by her own. Once that was done, she filled up another glass for me, and I grunted when I realized it was soda water.

"No alcohol for you," Mom teased. "Or did you forget the drinking age is twenty in Japan?"

"I didn't forget. I'd just rather have a real toast."

Sylia lifted her glass. "I would like to toast the reunion of Priss and Yumeko Asagiri, and the welcoming home of the fifth Knight Saber."

"Hear hear!" Mom said loudly as we all clinked glasses.

Everyone took a sip from their champagne, and as I cupped my glass in my hands and took a sip of the soda water, I could feel something cover me, like a blanket. Today was supposed to be a happy day…but at the same time, it wasn't. Today was the eighteenth of August, a meaningful day, and not just because it was the day I was home at last.

"I need to make a stop," I said in a low voice.

"What stop?" Nene started to ask, then her face fell as she realized where I wanted to go.

"Do you want anyone with you?" Linna asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head.

"No…I need some privacy. There's a lot I want to say to her."

Mom just nodded to herself in understanding, while Sylia told Mackie about the change in plans.

It seemed like forever, but eventually the limo reached the destination I had in mind. Nene opened the door for me so I could step out, and I did so, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "We'll be here," she said softly. I nodded in response and walked through the iron gates of my destination. It was strange…the last time I had been here, the trees in the area were just like this: flush, green, birds singing. Then again, the last time I'd been here, it had been this time of year as well. I felt guilty for not being able to visit as much as I could, but then again, I also hadn't wanted to visit. It was only confirmation of what had happened on this date a year ago.

Strangely, my footsteps seemed to remember exactly where to go, and I could feel the weight bear down in my chest as I saw the cherry tree in the distance. She was there. She would always be there, underneath her favorite kind of tree, a tree whose branch she had given my mom for her forty-second birthday. I wondered what this spot had looked like back in March, when cherry blossom petals would have blanketed it. I sighed; I could only imagine, until March came around again.

"Micchan," I moaned, getting down on my knees as I stepped up to her headstone. "Micchan, it's not fair. I miss you. I missed you the whole time I was in California. I still do. I just wish I could apologize for what happened a year ago today. Boh…stabbed you, and he stabbed me too. I was the one he wanted, so I should've died…not you. But there's nothing I can do about it now.

"I'm sure you've been watching me, seeing how I've been trying to go on with my life, do my best, go to the Olympics. Well, guess what? I made it. I had to go to Osaka for one weekend then go right back to Sacramento so I could take my finals, but I did it. I made the number-five spot and went to Nairobi! I was hearing you cheer the whole time. And you know what? My trip bore fruit."

I unzipped my backpack and took hold of a handful of ribbons. Pulling them out, four medals dangled from them and gleamed in the sunlight, clanking as they banged against each other. "Look! I won these in Nairobi!" I pointed at each of them in turn as I explained. "Team Japan got gold, so that's what this one is. This one I won for the uneven bars. And this one, I won for floor." I then pointed at the lone silver medal. "I got this one for all-around. I didn't place on vault or beam, and I guess I don't have to tell you that Sonja was the one who won on beam, and got the gold all-around too. But that's alright. I guess I'll have to make do with just four," I joked. "But at least I won't have to worry about her when the Asian Games roll around in two years! And don't worry, I took pictures. Even got some of myself biting the medals."

I looked at them shining for a moment, then carefully placed them back into the backpack, zipping it shut. "You…always did have faith in me, even when I didn't have any in myself," I said, my voice starting to choke. "It's two years today that I was asked to join the Knight Sabers, a year and a half since the summit, and one year since I lost you. The only reason I kept going after you died was so I could go to the Olympics…go and make you proud. You'd hate me if I gave up on that. So I've kept going…despite how suffocating these feelings get sometimes.

"I'm sorry," I said again, though for a different reason now. "In Sacramento I tried to forget. I didn't want to admit to myself that you were gone, even though I was crying almost nonstop for the first month I was there. I was just…trying to be normal. I sort of have an idea of what that means, though I don't think I'll ever really know. When Mom and Aunt Nene and the others came to the States to save me…it just brought it all back. I hated them for coming, just for that reason. Hated them. But I guess now that I'm home, I can really start to…mourn." I wiped the tears from my eyes when they started to build up. "Mourn, heh. What a strange word. I don't think there's any real way to mourn, or any set period of how long to mourn for. But…I guess I'll do it in my own way, and if nobody else likes it, they can go screw themselves."

I kissed the headstone, just above where her name was inscribed. "I'll come visit often, I promise. And I'll bring daisies. Oh!" I gasped, unzipping my backpack again. "I almost forgot. Mom released a cover CD last month. I know you love her CDs, and I know that you'd want this one, so here." I placed it in front of the headstone. "It's yours. You can listen to it all you want. Track 5 is the one that makes me think of you." Track 5 was Mom's cover of My Immortal. "I wish I knew which one might be your favorite, but I'll have to figure that out for myself, I suppose."

I stood up, slinging the backpack over my shoulder again, after I zipped it up. "Bye, Michiko."

The walk back to the limo was a long one. The weight on my chest was still there, but it was a little lighter now. I got to tell her all about the Olympics, although a part of me was certain she'd been watching the whole time from above. Physically she was gone forever, but I firmly believed that as long as I remembered her, that she would never be truly gone. She was here with me, always would be, and not just because I had her necklace around my neck, either. I could feel her. She was saying, "Good job, Yucchan! I'm proud of you! Now you gotta prepare for the '60 Olympics!"

I chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Linna asked when I got back to the limo. Everyone, including Mackie, was standing out on the sidewalk, waiting for me.

"I was just imagining Michiko saying that now I need to prepare for the 2060 Olympic Games," I said. "And why are you all out here?"

"We were worried," Mom said. "I know it's hard to visit here again."

"I needed to. She'd…want to see me."

"I know, hon." She hugged me. "I know."

"There's another reason," Sylia cut in.

"Like what?" I asked.

"There was a report on the radio about some Boomers rampaging in district 17." I started to say something, but she put up a hand to stop me. "The sanctions put in place by the U.N. only prohibited development of new types of Combat Boomers. It did not say to destroy any existing ones."

"What do you say, Yume?" Mom asked with a crooked grin. "Looks like Genom has their own idea for a welcome-home party!" Nene rolled her eyes.

I smirked, giving her an evil look. "So do I. The purple Saber's back in town, and I wanna show 'em what it's all about!"

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Sylia said coyly. "Mackie, let's go."

"Time to go, ladies," Mackie said. "Although heading to battle in a limo's a little unorthodox."

"We're goin' into battle in style!" I asserted.

Nene was about to point out that we weren't heading directly there in a limo, that we would, of course, have to stop by Lady 633 and suit up, but she just shut her mouth and shook her head, chuckling to herself. She, Sylia, and Linna got in, followed by me and Mom, and once Mackie started up the limo again, we were off, on our way to a welcome-home celebration of a different variety. Formal attire: required.

Just like in our final battle before I headed off to Sacramento, again, I heard song lyrics in my head, this time from one of the songs Mom covered. They seemed appropriate:

The show must go on!

The show must go on!

Inside my heart is breaking,

my make-up may be flaking,

but my smile still stays on.

I'd thought our trip to Genom Tower was the last time I would have to wear the purple hardsuit, but as luck would have it, it wasn't. But that was all right with me. With every Boomer I killed, I would show them that they could never take me down, that no matter what they threw at me, I would rise from the ashes like the fabled phoenix, and come back to kick their asses once again, and time and time again.

I was eighteen years old, an Olympic medalist, and a veteran Knight Saber. I had told Nene before I left Tokyo that there was no way I could quit after my rookie year. And I hadn't. I was back and raring to go.

It was my time to shine again.