Spellheart

Marcy's patience runs out. "If you feel that way, then fine. But if you think I'm hiding things from you, then I dare you to try to figure out what they took her in for. I just felt like maybe it wasn't a good idea to talk about intimate details in the middle of the fucking streets." Marcy points to the group of people around them. Their argument had already stirred up quite some attention. Not because anyone understood what they were talking about, but rather that their argument was taking place while surrounding people tried to enjoy their lunch. Marcy looks quite ready to storm off herself.
 
Momoko rolls her eyes. "Whatever, whatever!" She hisses, throwing her hands up in some sort of mock surrender. "Fine, whatever. But you can't keep it from me forever."
 
Reflecting Momoko's sentiments, Marcy reluctantly sits back down. "It's not like I owe you anything anyway." Marcy finishes off the rest of her meal quietly after realizing she hadn't touched it for a bit. She spends a lot of this time with her eyes closed, almost as if she totally forgot about Momoko. Once her burger and drink are completely gone, Marcy once again speaks up. "Momoko, want to sleep over?"
 
Momoko avoids looking at Marcy for longer than she has to, just stares down at her lap as she waits. When Marcy finally speaks, she raises an eyebrow and unintentionally gives a questioning look. Under normal circumstances, it would be one hell of a 'no way'. She breathes in slowly, and then sighs. If she wants to find out more, all she can do is go along with whatever's offered to her. "Sure." She says curtly. "When? Now?"
 
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Marcy shrugs, "It is kind of the middle of the day, not much of a sleepover, and I still need to get in my daily fight. Unless you want to be on the other side of my magic, you should probably just find something to do. You have plenty of friends, so it shouldn't be too hard." Marcy walks off, turning to face Momoko briefly, "And honestly, I'm a little sick of being with you. I want a break."
 
Momoko rolls her eyes again at Marcy's finishing statement. "God, give me strength," she mutters to herself, pulling her fruit salad back out of her bag. She takes her time as she finishes it off, and in that time three of the girls from before manage to find her. If Momo remembers correctly, their names are Suzume, Naomi and Yoshi.

"Where'd you go, Mo-kun?" Yoshi asks as she dumps herself heavily beside Momoko. She chews obnoxiously on some hot pink bubblegum and tousles a hand through her hair.
Momoko smiles. "I had to go to the bathroom, then I got hungry." She admits.
Naomi pouts a little and snatches away the box that Momoko was holding, tipping it up to the ceiling to inspect the contents. "Seriously, pink lemonade?" She sticks her tongue out and sits on Momoko's other side. "You know how many unnecessary calories are in that, right?"
Momoko snorts as she snatches the box right back and drops it into her bag. "It's not that much!"
"Every calorie counts." Naomi says, and as if to boast she pats her flat stomach.

Suzume scoffs and rolls her eyes as she sits down next to Naomi. "A flat stomach isn't always a good thing. Someone could take a knife to you and be in your stomach in a second." She pokes Naomi's collarbone, which looks like it sticks out a little more than it should.
"Well, at least I'll be skinny." Naomi says wistfully, and she seems to be in a far off place.

Yoshi clears her throat. "Well, we've all done our duties for the day. I say we go shopping, huh? New clothes, that sorta stuff."
Momoko smiles brightly, and stands up out of the bench. "Yeah, that sounds good." She says. 'I'll just come back here later for Marcy.'
"Nice." Yoshi drags the word out as she shoves herself into the air. "C'mon, you two!" She calls to Suzume and Naomi, even though she's barely given them a second to stand.
"Chill, Yo-san," Suzume raises a hand to say 'stop', and she stands up, pulling Naomi up with her.
Yoshi pops a bubble, smirking. "Let's get going!" With that, she's off, speed walking through the crowd with the other three walking behind.



When six o'clock rolls around, Momoko has sat herself in the living room with her parents, and they're watching a movie - an old childhood favourite about a girl who can speak to birds. Momoko is engrossed in the familiar story, so she doesn't hear her crystal ball tinkling in her bag until her father points it out.

"Isn't that your ball, Momoko?" He asks, pointing towards her bag sitting on the seat beside the wall.
"Oh, it is!" Momoko jumps out of her seat between her two parents and sweeps her bag up, thrusting her hand into the bag. Her fingers graze random things that she bought whilst she was out shopping - a bracelet, a crop top, a pair of jeans - until they finally close around the smooth surface. She pulls it out and looks at the screen, frowning at the unfamiliar number. "I'll be right back!" She calls to her parents as she leaves the room and walks across the hallway to the study room.

She answers the call and sets the ball down on the wooden desk as she pushes the chair up to the desk. "Zu-san, I know all your games now! You've hidden your number a hundred different times and a hundred different ways, and sure, I fell for it the first few times, but now it's just very easy to-" she stops mid-sentance as she sits down in the chair and finally takes a good look at the face on the screen.

"...eh?" Momoko leans in close to the screen and rubs one of her eyes in disbelief. She tilts her head at the mystery woman on the screen and chuckles a little. "Sorry about that. I thought you were one of my friends." She looks awkwardly off to the side. "I think you've got the wrong number, though."
 
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The young girl shakes her head. "Actually, it's Marcy. I just wanted to let you know that I'm waiting outside your door. If you have everything you need for the sleepover, we can get going, or whatever." Appending with a smile, "But it sounds like you have some fun friends."
 
Momoko's face pulls back in confusion. She pauses and sighs. "Did you follow me home?" She asks, running a hand through her hair. "And how did you even get my number?!"
 
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Smirks with an adorable grin, "I'll tell you on the way. Bye bye!" Without any further fanfare, Marcy hangs up, leaving Momoko with more questions than answers. From the conversation, Momoko saw that Marcy didn't look anything like she had in her first encounter. Rather than a girl around the same age with white hair and purple eyes, she seemed to be a preteen with long brown hair and yellowish brown eyes. Not only that but their visual aesthetic contrasted greatly. This version of Marcy seemed cutesy, innocent, and warm rather than calculating, edgy, and cold. Aside from the claim to Marcy's name, there wasn't any suggestion that they were even the same person.
 
Momoko stares at the surface of her crystal ball, hand still in her hair. "Oh, come on!" She hisses, plucking her crystal ball up off the table. She goes into her call log and attempts to call the supposed Marcy back, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Didn't even look like her..." she mutters. Before 'Marcy' can pick the call back up, Momoko's mum knocks once on the door and opens it.

"I think there's someone at the door for you, honey," she says sweetly, pointing in the direction of the front door.
Momoko cancels the call and gives her mum a fake smile. "Yeah, it's just a friend. We were going to have a sleepover, is that okay?"
Her mother clearly hesitates, but forces a smile. "Of course. You're an adult now, you can do what you'd like. As long as you're being good."
Momoko laughs. "I am, I am," she reassures her mother, standing up out of the chair. She pulls her mum into a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be back for dinner, promise."

A minute or so later, and Momoko steps outside, giving the 'Marcy' a side look. She folds her arms. "You don't look like Marcy."
 
The young girl places her hands behind her back, gripping the backside trim of her skirt as she leans forward, "Well, then what does Marcy look like?"
 
Momoko puts her hands on her hips. "Well, first off she's not, like, twelve years old." She points out. "She's got white hair, too. And purple eyes." She watches the girl suspiciously. "And she's just plain mean."
 
The young girl twirls, and as she spins, she briefly looks exactly like Marcy, even the details which Momoko left unspecified; though, by the time she has completed the spinning motion, she is back to being the girl from before. "You know, it's kinda rude to talk bad about someone right to their face. But anyway, I'm the one you are having a sleepover with. If you are having that much trouble thinking of me as Marcy, I don't mind being called whatever." With a childlike sense of annoyance, "Anyway, you aren't even ready. Go pick out some clothes for the sleepover, or you'll have to borrow."
 
Momoko lifts a hand and covers her eyes. "Why can't you just look like yourself?" She complains. "But whatever. I'll be back in a second." With that, she steps back into her house. She's up in her room and back downstairs quite quick, now with her same over the shoulder bag stuffed with the necessities. "Okay, now what?"
 
The young girl proclaims, "Now, we sleepover at Amiko's place, and I fill you in on a few things." Taking hold of Momoko's hand, Momoko feels a different sort of sensation from when Marcy shook her hand earlier. This time, her hand felt softer and smaller. Plus, the way Marcy looked at her felt different. While before, it felt like she was glaring at Momoko the entire time, they now felt soft, like she genuinely needed Momoko's company. She didn't even seem sour about the clear dig at her expense from before. More than just her appearance, her entire demeanor seemed different.
 
Momoko plants her feet firmly into the ground. "Hold on, Amiko's house?" She asks, holding tightly onto Marcy's hand so that she doesn't break away. "How the hell are we gonna get in?" She holds one finger up. "First, the door's gonna be locked. Second, won't there be police there, or something?"
 
Marcy closes her eyes tightly as her hand is clamped down on, answering questions as if they might release the vice grip, "I can't imagine they'd do anything to the house since they know there isn't anything in there, and I have a key so getting inside isn't a problem."
 
With a shake of her head, Momoko sighs. "Are you her sister or something?" She mutters. "Whatever. We start walking and you start talking." She says with a nod.
 
Marcy points out nonchalantly, "I'm nothing that special. I'm just her ex." Continuing as if she didn't just drop a bombshell, "Sorry, was there something, in particular, you wanted to know? I can't remember all the questions you've had up to this point."
 
Momoko stops again and fixes Marcy with a baffled look. She opens and closes her mouth a few times as she tries to find the words to say. "That's weird. Not the gay thing, I'm fine with that, but you still have a key to her house. Don't you think that's weird?"
 
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