Disclaimers apply. I do not own Macross Frontier or anything related to the Macross franchise. This piece of fiction was inspired by the awesome Jayne Ann Krentz and is dedicated to all my Skullfaerie comrades, old and new.
Sheryl Nome smiled with brimming enthusiasm as she looked down ten stories below from her window. Her unconcealed glee radiated inside the cheerfully cluttered space. After taking her fill of watching random cars pass by, she turned around to find Grace O'Connor, sitting regally on the couch with one ankle tucked behind the other, her hands clasped together on her lap. She radiated the aura of the capable woman that she was. Unfortunately, unlike Sheryl, Grace wasn't mirroring the same enthusiasm.
"Sheryl, please reconsider doing something this foolish."
Sheryl allowed a frown to take place of the smile she had been wearing since this morning. Heaving a sigh, she walked over to where she placed her cup of tea while almost stumbling in the process from the various objects lying around on the floor. Thankfully, the tea was still warm.
"Mou, Grace, don't be such a wet blanket." She took a sip and grimaced and the not-so-fresh taste. She carefully set the cup down on top of a wooden antique, promising herself she'd pick it up later—just as she had promised to pick up the other objects scattered about.
"Besides, those earrings belong to my family history, it wouldn't be right to just let it remain buried in some forsaken part of this galaxy, I'm going after them."
without breaking her composure before trying once more to reason with
the stubborn girl.
"Sheryl, Mao Nome—your grandmother had plenty of time to search and dig up those lost earrings, so did your mother. Considering none of them ever wasted time to do so, I don't see why you should."
"Oh, Grace! You just don't understand." Sheryl pouted, as she scanned the floor for her hairbrush. It was around here somewhere…
As if reading her mind, Grace picked up the throw pillow sitting by her side, revealing the sought after hairbrush.
"I understand that you're too impulsive. That's really all I need to know."
Sheryl busied herself by brushing her strawberry-blonde hair, her brows furrowed down at her manager's pessimism.
"Besides," Grace continued, "this Saotome Alto of yours, are you even sure he can be trusted?"
At the mention of that name, Sheryl accidentally—and painfully pulled her own hair with the brush. She massaged the slightly sore spot on her scalp as she looked at Grace straight in the face, with an adorable flush on her face.
"What makes you think he can't be?"
Grace pushed up
her glasses a little higher and then proceeded to dissuade the young
woman with her rational reasons.
"Well firstly, you don't know him on a personal level. You've only corresponded with him through emails—and your emails only talk about this earrings business."
"Well, he's a pilot! It's quite generous of him to be able to entertain my emails. Most pilots I know are just hotshots that are too obsessed with their planes and women close by."
Grace raised an amused eyebrow. "Sheryl, you don't know anyone who's a pilot." It was a simple statement drawn out and true.
Sheryl reddened, "Well—I know Alto! I told you, he's a pilot!"
Grace massaged the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger in exasperation.
"We're back to square one again. Sheryl, you don't know him. You don't know enough about him. And the net is known for unscrupulous characters you'd hope you'd never have to encounter. This pilot might only be pure merde for all you know."
Sheryl bit her lower lip out of frustration. Grace had a point. But nonetheless she was certain of Alto's character. She did not really know much about him on a personal level, as Grace put it, she also didn't know what he looked like. Only fair, since she, herself, didn't bother giving out what she looked like. Despite all that, Sheryl just had a gut feeling about Alto when he first replied to her post about Mao Nome. She just knew that Alto and the earrings were linked together. Somehow, she just knew it. The feeling only solidified as they began a regular once-a-week correspondence for almost four months. Perhaps it wasn't practical to go around making decisions based on things like emotions but Sheryl Nome was never really known to be of the practical sort.
"I also find it fishy how a supposedly respected pilot would agree to such a whim"—
"I haven't told him yet."
Sheryl smiled; it had been a long while since she last saw Grace lose poise. Moments like these were very rare.
"Sheryl Nome…let me get this straight…" Grace stood up from the couch, only to plop back down. She reminded Sheryl of a malfunctioning computer.
"You think you can just waltz on over to him, wave a map in front of his face and expect him to agree to go with you on this treasure hunt?"
"More or less, I guess." Sheryl chirped happily.
"Sheryl. That's insane. I don't care how good you think your intuition is. You can't just"—
"I just know Alto and the earrings are linked together!"
Grace eyed her suspiciously.
"Sheryl…don't tell me you're planning to pursue both of them!"
"What if I am?"
"I need an aspirin." With that said, Grace steadily moved out from the couch and made her way to the kitchen—that was even more of a disaster zone than the living room.
Sheryl merely shrugged at the retreating back of her manager before moving to the small nook of the living room that served as her little working place where she wrote her music and lyrics. Unlike the rest of her penthouse, this area was in complete order—and probably the only place that was. Smiling to herself, she picked up a printed copy of one of Alto's emails and read it to herself.
In regards to your recent inquiry about Mao Nome's earrings, I'm afraid I can only tell you the things you already know. Legend states that Mao Nome was given a pair of earrings made out of fold quartz that was passed down from generation to generation by her family. Ordinarily, the eldest daughter was the one who had the honor to receive the heirloom but considering how her older sister, Sara, was a priestess, it can be presumed that Mao was an exception to that rule— or that Sara simply gave it to her.
In any case, the story points out that someone pilfered the set of earrings before Mao departed from the islands to become a doctor. This certain someone was said to be a missionary teacher, who had an eye for tribal jewelry. Afraid of the severe punishment for thievery, she buried the earrings and made a map to the spot. Many years later, before her death, she was plagued with guilt and to make amends, had the map delivered to Mao Nome. Whether the map made it to Mao, who was already a doctor at that time, is another mystery. I am surprised that you are familiar with this legend. It is rather an obscure one. Personally, I believe that there isn't much merit in this tale. Searching for the earrings would probably be a waste of your time. A costly waste of time at that. If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask.
P.S. Thank you for your recommendation on enka songs.
"Well, Saotome Alto," Sheryl giggled as she placed the paper back down on her desk, "I'm willing to costly waste my time searching for those earrings. And what's more, you're going to help me find them."