One of Momoko's favorite things in the world was the watch the city as the cab speed through the congested metropolis. Sometimes she'd imagine what it must've been like 300 years ago before the Great Flood, but now she was just taking in the sights as they made their way from Central to Brooklyn. In the last few years vivid hair color enhancements had become extremely popular, you hardly found someone who hadn't had their genes tinkered to produce fluorescent or brightly colored hair. The crowd was a rainbow sea of hair color, she lost count of how many blunettes she had seen after three blocks. The trend suited her just fine. She'd had her lime locks since birth, and it had caused her some awkwardness growing up.

She let her thoughts turn from her past back to the world around her. The skyscrapers gleamed opulently in the sunlight, the silver crisscross beams of the nano-dome above them almost invisible as they reflected the light. Her mother used to tell her stories of the dome's construction, how the nano-cells allowed all the natural elements in and kept out radioactive particles left over in the atmosphere after the last World War ended some 100 years ago. Her mom had been a scientist, and she would get pretty detailed in her explanations, losing the five year old in the jargon of quantum technology, but Momoko loved to just hear her mother talk.

The cab pulled up to the unloading area of the National Sports Stadium. Momoko tapped on her M-band remote, paying the tab and tipping the elderly driver 40%. She liked to take every opportunity she could to share the wealth her budding sports career had already brought. As she exited the vehicle she was ambushed by a tall girl in spiky heels with lemon-yellow curls and loud make-up.

"Grisla!" Momoko exclaimed, laughing. She'd been friends with the outlandish girl since before she started playing Rolequet, and they'd joined the team together in highschool.

Her friend released her, faking a pout. "I can't believe you didn't want to see me today, Clover!"

Slipping an arm around Grisla, Momoko grinned. "It's not that I didn't want to see you Bomber; you know how much I hate being cooped up in these things when I could be taking advantage of such a beautiful day!"

"Hey! Save the team names for game day!" a petite blunette called from the nearest stadium entrance. "You guys are almost unfashionably late!"

"What's fashionably late then?" Grisla muttered.

"Not seven minutes, apparently." Momoko checked the clock on her remote.

"Get your butts in gear!" the blunette shouted.

"Yes, team captain!" they called back.

"Man, Lori's in a mood today." Grisla grumbled.

Momoko just grinned and walked faster.

The press conference was just as dull as she had anticipated. When the journalists ran out of statistics to review they switched to the usual line of inquiry about the upcoming big game against the Omaha Vipers. Momoko drifted into the conversation when a spindly journalist brought up the last match they had against Atlanta. That game had been neck and neck up until the final seconds of the game, when Momoko had made a goal shot that blew the lid off the stadium. Weeks afterward, all anyone wanted to talk about was that amazing moment when the goalie faked a defensive left block and Momoko had shot the puck dead center into the goal.

She felt uncomfortable every time someone brought it up, because as unbelievable as that win had been, something had happened in that moment that she could neither explain nor ignore any longer. Since that day her keen sense of intuition had increased to the point where she didn't need to check to see who it was when she accepted a call, or watch the news because as soon as someone brought up a topic in conversation she had the strongest sense of dejavu and could follow every line of conversation like she had watched the program or seen the article being discussed.

These things had been coming on so gradually, she was able to dismiss it at first as crazy coincidence, but it had become too frequent and scarily accurate for her not to acknowledge this phenomenon.

"Momoko!" Grisla hissed in her ear.

"Mmh- What?"

Everyone had a laugh. She realized she must have zoned out and someone had addressed her.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?" she gave her best disarming smile. "I guess I'm just too geared up for our next game to focus!"

Another bout of laughter. She was in the clear.

"Miss Hitsuragi," the spindly man stood up. "I asked if you would walk us through the last few moments of the last game, and how it felt to make such an unlikely shot!"

She blinked, momentarily confused. Hadn't he just asked about the game against Atlanta? She broke into her usual spiel about that event, silently cursing the timing of one of her weird déjà vu moments.

The rest of the conference passed uneventfully, and then she was released back into the warm sunny day.

"Want to go get ice cream with me?" she smiled at Grisla.

The blonde shook her head. "That junk will go right to your thighs, you know. Plus, I'm late for a shoot."

"Oh, that's right. How's the modeling thing going?" she hailed a cab for her friend.

"Not as well as I'd hope." Grisla pulled a blue shade of lipstick from her purse and applied it over her full lips. "My agent thinks my look isn't edgy enough to ring in high fashion clients, and that's where all the money is right now. She booked me this cosmetic shoot but next month is totally open."

"Well, at least that gives you more time to practice." Momoko laughed reassuringly.

A cab pulled over and Grisla climbed in, shooting her friend one last look. "There's more to life than the game, Momoko. You should tag along next time we hit the strip. Ciao!"

Momoko waved good bye to her friend as the cab sped off, considering the advice. It's true her dating life had never really taken off, but she was quite content. Anyway, if she ever did get bored, Sylvia had plenty of dusty old books to leaf through. Oh, she'd almost forgot about the red bean cakes her guardian had requested. Momoko decided she'd grab a rental scooter instead of a cab and head to Mama-san's. She made her way over a block to the nearest trans-rent kiosk and flashed her M-band to the scanner, selected a cute little pink solar scooter with matching helmet on the touch-screen menu, and waited in line for the kiosk attendant to bring her selection.

She climbed on the scooter and began to hum to herself as she weaved through traffic up to 12th street. Mama-san's was an old traditional convenience market with an old-world Asian theme. Trinkets of the past lined the shelves as well as predominantly mixed Asian food and wares. Momoko loved it. She'd come in all the time as a girl, always placing a token in the nyanko cat on the counter next to the cheap plastic folding fans in a musty box. She waved at the clerk and made her way to the back of the store where a few eclectic tables with mis-matched chairs and an old diner counter made up a makeshift café.

Momoko browsed the papers taped to the counter top that served as the menu. There was everything from freshly baked buns to made-to-order stir fry. A small round woman waddled from the back room.

"Ah! Momoko! It has been a long time." the almost obsolete sound of Japanese filtered through Momoko's implanted translator chip.

"Hello Hirashi-san." She smiled widely. "Long time, no see."

Hirashi-san had run the store as long as Momoko could remember, a relic in her own right, refusing to use personal tech like the translator chips. 

"What brings you here? You are a big sports star now, right?" the old woman clucked, leaning her robust frame against the counter.

"Sort of." Momoko laughed. "At least, that's what they tell me."

"You are too modest, my son and I saw the game. You have good instincts."

"Thanks. How have things been?"

"Doctor says I need to keep off my feet, it is bad for my back. I told the doctor to go to hell. No one runs the shop as good as me. Now, are you ordering?"

"I'll take some vegetable tempura to go, and six red bean daifuku."

"Ahhhh, for the witch woman?" Hirashi-san moved to behind the counter.

Momoko laughed. "I don't know why you refer to her that way, Hirashi-san."

The old woman sniffed, pulling out a tray full of different flavors of bean cakes. "She is what she is. The universe is strange, Momoko."

"I think you've been watching too much TV again."

"No TV. Instincts." Hirashi placed Momoko's order in a small box and then went over to the grill, effectively ending the conversation as she concentrated on cooking.

Momoko glanced around the shop, noting that it seemed dustier than the last time she was there. The small girl at the register at the front of the store was busy clicking away on a Meta-screen with a bored expression.

"Total for the food is 890 credits." Hirashi-san placed a small takeout bag and the box of bean cakes on the counter.

Momoko flashed her remote at the scanner next to the food. "Thanks Hirashi-san." She grabbed the bag and box.

"Come again soon." Hirashi-san gave her a large grin.

"I will." Momoko promised with a smile as she walked towards the exit.

She secured the food on the back of her scooter and started back home, her thoughts drifted pleasantly to the hum of the little machine. She had only made it a few blocks from Mama-san's when traffic became completely grid-locked. Frowning, she checked her watch. It wasn't rush hour, maybe there had been an accident. She popped the kick stand on the scooter and craned her neck to see if she could make out what the hold-up was. Suddenly, the previously cloudless sky darkened. Momoko looked up. The darkest clouds she'd ever seen were gathering. Even though there was no wind, they were swirling as if a storm were blowing in. She stepped away from the scooter, trying to trace the activity with her eyes. She then felt a little off balance, and it took a moment to register the ground was rumbling.

The busy street erupted into startled screams as the light rumble became a roaring vibration. Momoko realized she needed to take cover, but the ground was beginning to shake so hard she could barely keep her footing. The asphalt underneath her feet began to crack, long lines fracturing the smooth pavement. She dropped to her knees and crawled off the street, not stopping until she banged into the grating covering a closed store front. She braced herself against it and crawled up to a standing position as the ground rocked. She turned to see people spill out of their cars in panic. Most of them couldn't keep their footing and had to crawl to shelter like she had. An earthquake, she realized. 

She stifled a scream when a large piece of glass struck the road near her, shattering and spraying everywhere like glitter. She shielded her face, but a few shards dug into her right side. Then something small and painful slammed into her left shoulder so hard that it knocked her into the store front and she sunk to the rolling ground, gasping through the pain. Pieces of glass were falling like hail, shimmering against the asphalt and vehicles as they exploded; it was beautiful, yet terrifying. She lay there watching it for a few moments; some part of her realizing through the pain and confusion that the "sky" was falling... the glass was falling from the dome above the city.

As suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped and the sky cleared. The sun reflected off the broken glass in the street, making it look all the more surreal. Momoko took a small breath without too much pain and tried to inhale deeper. There was a twinge from her shoulder, but nothing broken. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, marveling at the immense destruction left behind from such a short event. She touched the spot on her shoulder with her right hand and winced; it was going to be a hell of a bruise. Something next to her left hand caught her eye. It was an egg-shaped object the size of a small stone. It looked like stone too, blood red and covered with intricate carvings. Curious, she picked it up and examined it. It was solid, but warm. The intricate lines definitely looked like carving, but it something she'd never seen before. It fit nicely in the palm of her hand. She held it up and the light caught the carved edges, causing a strange glow to flicker over its surface.

"I bet you're what clonked me." she mused.

A sharp electric charge shot through her hand and she dropped the strange object with a yelp. She scooted away from it, clutching her hands. She glanced down and there wasn't a mark, but it still stung. If this day could get any weirder, she did not want to stay around and find out. She stood up and took a few timid steps out from under the safety of the store awning. She could hear emergency sirens, like a symphony cascading through the eerily quiet city. She glanced up, shielding her eyes. The bright sky looked the same; she couldn't distinguish where pieces of the dome were missing opposed to intact. She glanced back down and hunted for the pink scooter she'd rented.

It took her a few minutes to find it, lying on its side a few feet from where she thought she'd left it. It must've been knocked over during the earth quake. With a painful grunt, she picked it up. It was heavily damaged. That was probably going to cost a bit when she returned it. Her food was also smashed all over the asphalt, and a piece of glass had landed directly on the box of bean cakes, effectively slicing it in half. A headache began pulsing at her temples, and she automatically massaged them, but it immediately grew worse, blood beginning to ring in her ears. She fell against the scooter, holding on to it for dear life as the throbbing blurred her vision.

"Hey, are you okay!?" a thin guy came running up to her from the direction she'd sought cover a few moments ago.

"F-Fine." She lied, clutching her head with her right hand, her death grip fixed to the scooter with the other as her left shoulder thrummed in time with her temples.

"Look, I found this over there where you were- is it yours?" he held up the strange, red rock that had struck her.

Momoko could barely concentrate on what he had said, all she saw was the stone. Without really processing it, she dropped her hand from her aching head and reached for it. The moment it was dropped into her palm her headache disappeared.

"Thank you." She managed.

"No problem." The guy looked her over. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes, must've just been shock or something." Momoko nodded, warily turning the stone over in her hand and watching the sunlit iridescence glide over the intricate carvings.

"Yea, I know what you mean..." he laughed nervously. "I mean, I can't believe it-- that was an earthquake, right? How bizarre is that?!"

"Yea." Momoko chewed her lip, her world still focused on the object in her palm. "Really, really bizarre...."