When you joined Team Kai, you became part a different kind of family. A family without siblings to pester or parents to mediate. No grandparents to spoil or cousins to co-conspire. Yet this family did have certain similarities to those of the past; little echoes of faded memories preserved forever in rose-tinted glass.
Miaka sat with the women and children and, while the men were out at work, the girls and little ones prepared food, cleaned and filed paperwork before relaxing together in front of the television. They endured—rather than enjoyed—the scheduled programming courtesy of the last broadcasting studio still airing out of Old Town. It was mostly advertisements, so nothing had changed in that regard.
“Why wouldn’t they want me on this mission? I was made for it,” Miaka pondered.
