Mai Valentine grew up birdwatching. It gave her something to do as a child, alone in the big house with its wide windows, and soon it became a habit. She researched what she could, learning their names and species, seeing them flying freely like she longed to. Card games and casinos and Duel Monsters let her fly as high as she wished, living with every luxury she wanted or could afford.

But she knew not to get too cocky, and to keep anyone at arm's length. She'd seen too well what happened to overconfident birds—eaten by cats, bullied by other, stronger birds, only getting enough and not a surplus. That wouldn't happen to her, Mai vowed. She'd delighted in learning how smart crows were, using tools for their own benefit, and she knew she could do so as well. Even if she had to trick others or play dumb to get what she wanted, Mai would get what she wanted. On the boat they called her the dancing peacock, and she was more than happy to preen for them, so long as they underestimated her skills.

Duel Monsters hadn't caught her interest at first, but the moment she saw her first Harpie Lady card she knew the archetype was for her. Sleek, stylish, and deadly, the Harpie and her sisters seemed like they'd been created for her, just waiting for her to find them. And so Mai set down the poker chips and picked up a deck.

She found she was good at it, strikingly so—up until her first, crushing loss. After that, she practiced alone, by herself, before finally deciding she needed a guarantee. Wild birds couldn't rely on the kindness of humans, after all, and with her perfume tricks Mai gained an added touch to throw someone off their game.

Birds roosted alone, foraged alone, and that was how Mai rolled up until she met Yugi, Joey, and their friends. They taught her friendship, togetherness, to open up, and she found herself enjoying life like she hadn't in years. It was like she was finally flying free, and she remembered that while they roosted alone, many birds flew together.

Always perceptive, Mai then turned her focus outwards. She had made friends, so what were they like; what were their friends like, their relatives? Seto Kaiba she found almost impossible to read, unless he was gloating—she chuckled imagining him as a dancing peacock, strutting across the dueling field.

Others, like Yugi and Tea, were fairly easy to read, preaching friendship and sticking together like a pair of puffins. Like a jay, Joey was full of surprises from the moment he beat Mai in a duel to when she learned why he really entered the Duelist Kingdom tournament.

It should have come as no surprise that Serenity Wheeler, the reason for Joey being there, was also more complex than she appeared.

Mai's first impression of Serenity was that she was nice but easy to forget; the girl was a little mousy, without much presence aside from her devotion to Joey. Mai considered her as she would a common tree sparrow—a dime a dozen, one of the first birds people learn to recognize, but nothing that really stood out. Later she saw in her echoes of Mokuba Kaiba; they both admired their older brothers deeply, no matter their faults, and thought they could do no wrong.

It took her a little while longer to notice the difference.

The younger Kaiba clung to his brother's every word like a green cheek conure, fearful of losing his attention and always eager to please, be it supporting him in a duel or helping run KaibaCorp. Serenity had no need to ask or wonder if her brother loved and needed her—she believed he did, so he must, just as much as she knew he'd win any duel he fought.

Months ago Mai would have scoffed and told her to grow up. "Everyone has to fail sometimes, even your precious big brother, so get used to it," or "Life isn't fair, hon, and never will be, even when you try your very hardest."

But that was before she met Yugi, and Joey and the rest, and she'd learned enough to know that even when such things were true there was no need to shatter a young girl's heart over it. Besides, if what Joey said about their home life was any indication then maybe Serenity did know that and still believed in her brother.

She had a quiet strength to go through so much and come out smiling, Mai thought. Even more than that, Serenity was the one who helped save her brother at the pier just after taking her bandages off. It took tremendous strength to take them off at all, to literally see whether you'd be blind for the rest of your life or not.

So maybe Serenity was more than a sparrow. But even if she was, sparrows had merit. Some were pests, some sang, some just watched the world go by, but all of them were facets of Serenity Wheeler. And some were far stronger than they appeared.

Whether common as a sparrow or rare as a quetzal, Serenity had shown Mai that everything and everyone had strength. She wasn't good with cards like Yugi, or boisterous and physically strong like Joey or Tristan, but she listened well, and could read people almost as well as Mai herself.

Mai decided there were too many birds that would suit Serenity to pick just one.

She wondered if it held true for herself, as well.

After all, there was always more to learn—about birds, the people around you, and yourself, and how you all flew together under the same sky.