This is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic. Since yesterday I've thought that I'd never do something like that. Then, while I was writing to another SM Fanfics' writer, an idea rose up in my brain and I've thought that it could be worth writing. I woke up this morning with some other particulars, jumping side by side in my mind, and so, here I am. Just a few of little, but probably useful notes. 1) This story should be settled in a time just after the SM Stars series. The location in space may not be really Tokyo, as I don't know enough about that city. It would be just wherever. It's not going to be a problem for a long time, y'see as the story'll go on. 2) After the SM Stars series all the enemies have been defeated, so don't expect for any "moster of the day" or cruel, laughing, envious creatures who'd call Serenity "you little schemer". 3) I'm using the Japanese names, so for anyone who has the bad luck of not knowing them, these are some fair informations ( I 'm putting the NA and Italian translations of the names, which the only two I know) Tsukino Usagi = Serena / Bunny that is Sailor Moon Hino Rei = Raye / Rea Sailor Mars Mizuno Ami = Amy / Amy Sailor Mercury Aino Minako = Mina / Marta Sailor Venus Kino Makoto = Lyta / Morea Sailor Jupiter Meiou Setsuna = Susan (?) / Sydia Sailor Pluto Ten'ou Haruka = Alex (?) / Heles Sailor Uranus Kaiou Michiru = Michelle (?) / Milena Sailor Neptune Tomoe Hotaru = unknown / Ottavia Sailor Saturn Chiba Mamoru = Darien / Marzio Tuxedo Kamen / Mylord in Italy no Chibi Usa in this story (Buahh...or eheheh..like you like it...) 4) I've seen all the SM Anime episodes, I mean from 1st to episode 200, though Italian censorship has completely devastated it. Anyway, I think I know the characters quite well, though there might be some discrepancies with the SM author's intents. If so, that's exactly what my purpose is. I simply could change some of their moods and tempers. Quite important is to warn you that I'm not making Haruka and Michiru to be lovers. I don't believe that, though I know it probably is like that. 5) By the way, all of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. On the other hand, y'see, I'm not making any money with this, and then I'm exposing myself to others' judgement, posting this on the Net, my e-mail address included , prepared to receive comments and flames, certainly much more than Naoko has ever been (I think). Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. 6) MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' names and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose,clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd like to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from my story, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time and you'll feel safer, ok? 7) Responses are welcome, of course. And, of course, I'd prefer to receive good ones, but feel free to send any ( worthwhile and useful, if possible) comments or criticism you want to. Remember that it is my first attempt in writing a Fanfic, so, please, don't be too much severe. Flames are accepted too, but do not hope I'd thank you. My e-mail address is : e.bosco@areacom.it 8) English is not my mother tongue, so I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. If you'd kindly make me aware of any, that would be a worthwhile comment. Still, there may be used some unusual expressions. They might have been used on purpose. I could probably have used them even in my mother tongue. Not everything is meant to be clear there, anyway. 9 ) THANK YOU to Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and for his kindness to me. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13, I think. PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 1 " Everybody's doing it, so, why can't we? " The Cranberries " So I want to kill this waitress she's worked here a year longer than I if I did it fast you know that's an act of kindness " Tori Amos SEVEN SECONDS that is IT HAPPENS, SOMETIMES It happens, sometimes, to feel absolutely nothing inside. No happyness, no pain, no breathe running in and out lungs, not even hearth beating. No warm, no cold. No wet, no dry. Nothing. That's what is occurring to me today. I don't know if it is good, like it seems I've already said before, because, y'see, I'm just feeling nothing. Setsuna got an headache. It was not the first time she had,but this seemed to grow up faster and stronger than ever. She put one hand on her forehead, knowing that it wouldn't work, and sighed slightly. She had to work hard to keep her self control in the last few days. Her head began whirling and her body lost his centre of gravity. I'm NOT fading, she told herself. That was true. She was only falling down on her knees, hurting them both. Her sight blurred easily, the light turned over. It took her seven seconds to realize that she could get up again. Though she did not. Other seven seconds and she realized that blood was on the floor. That meant that she was able to see again, and this was relieving. Setsuna frowned and touched the blood with fingertips. She asked herself how it could have reached there. Seven seconds later, another drop fell right on her hand, and she understood. She slowly moved her right hand to her nose, turned her head back and laughed. She got up,and,clutching to the furniture, staggered to the bathroom. Water ran down, mingling with blood. This flew, now faster, from her nostrils, to her lips ,falling from her chin, collapsing on the blue shirt she's made by herself. And the resulting colour was not so different from her eyes' one. A peculiar, old red with a violet shade. That was the reason why she was not looking at her reflection. She never did, anyway. It took pretty much more than seven seconds to her to realize that it isn't going to give up. But seven seconds passed between that instant of slow realization and the moment she locked the door behind herself,took the car and left home. She was sitting in a clear, bright room, getting dressed again. The bleeding was over, luckily. And the headache too. But she was nauseated, though. She'd always been, of hospitals. She grimaced while buttoning up the skirt still stained with blood. She could hear the door opening behind herself. She could hear the strain growing up into her marrow, straight on to her brain. When the voltage arrived there, her mind switched on again, and she strated thinking. That made her head rise and she glanced at the doctor who had entered the room. As he realized she was looking at him, he tried to smile. He was young. He had not learned dissimulation yet. Setsuna stood up,arranged the last button, and looked at him, without any expression on her face. : " Ehr...Miss Meiou... here we have your tests' results..." He paused. Setsuna noticed. :" It'll be really much more appreciated if you'll tell the whole truth" she said in a harsh, still emotionless voice. He nodded, not looking at her. :" It is my duty, Miss Meiou... telling you the whole truth..." He placed her TAC results on the lighting board. :" ...though, in your case, it is not a good one...I'm sorry Miss Meiou...but I've to tell you that you've cancer in your brain..." He paused again. Setsuna didn't notice. Seven seconds later she was still standing in this clear and bright hospital room with the young doctor who's feeling obviously sorry and embarassed about being there, but she did no longer perceive. She could just have been anywhere, on a ship pitching by the sea, or crawling in the air, breathing cold sweet smoke. She simply stood there, with her arms crossed before her chest, wearing a dirty blue shirt, no expression on her face, long dark hair, shining of dark green lights. The doctor was too young to really know what he should have been said and what he absolutely should not, so he just tried to be nice, and maybe he tried to think about what he could have loved to hear in a moment like this. :" I'm sorry...Miss Meiou...but you don't have to despair...there's still hope...from the tests we know that there is a neoplastic form, right here, you see, behind the pituitary gland... it could have formed and developed quite quickly ... we could not assume that it is a malignant form yet,however,..but.. we think that it would probably be not operable..." he took a deep breath,"..nevertheless, there are some therapies you could try and that could be successful and...uh... Miss Meiou ?..." he looked quite confused. Though her mood wasn't changed, she was taking her coat, wearing it, and possibly going away. The young doctor tried some useful babblings, in order to stop her. She ignored him. She ignored them. Like she'd ignored everything, seven seconds by now. End of Chapter 1 Just a few of little, but probably useful notes : 1) This story should be settled in a time just after the SM Stars series. The location in space may not be really Tokyo, as I don't know enough about that city. It would be just wherever. 2) After the SM Stars series all the enemies have been defeated, so don't expect for any "moster of the day" or cruel, laughing, envious creatures who'd call Serenity "you little schemer". 3) I'm using the Japanese names, so for anyone who has the bad luck of not knowing them, go to the first part and see Author's notes, please. These notes are going to be already too much long, even without I 'm putting the names' catalogue every time. Just one thing: no Chibi Usa in this story (Buahh...or eheheh..like you like it...) 4) I've seen all the SM Anime episodes, I mean from 1st to episode 200, though Italian censorship has completely devastated this last one. Anyway, I think I know the characters quite well, though there might be some discrepancies with the SM author's intents. If so, that's exactly what my purpose is. I simply could change some of their moods and tempers. After all this is meant to be MY version of a SM series, y'see, and this includes the characters as well. Quite important is to warn you that I'm not making Haruka and Michiru to be lovers. I don't believe that, though I know it probably is like that. ( P.S. no, I'm not some kind of huge naive) 5) By the way, all of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. On the other hand, y'see, I'm not making any money with this, and then I'm exposing myself to others' judgement, posting this on the Net, my e-mail address included , prepared to receive comments and flames, certainly much more than Naoko has ever been (I think). Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. 6) MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose,clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd like to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from my story, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time and you'll feel safer, ok? 7) Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. 8) English is not my mother tongue, so I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. If you'd kindly make me aware of any, that would be a worthwhile comment. Still, there may be used some unusual expressions. They might have been used on purpose. I could probably have used them even in my mother tongue. Not everything is meant to be clear there, anyway. 9 ) THANK YOU to Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and for his kindness to me. To Alicja, the "Heaven of Haruka" 's owner, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strenghtening my will of writing this. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13, I think. PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 2-a PRECIOUS THINGS that is OCCASIONS " A cowboy passing by on his high horse, saw an Indian man lying down the street, his head and left ear leant to the ground. 'What's the matter, chief ?' the cow-boy asked. 'Pale-face, red-haired big man driving a Mercedes-Benz , rating SDT965, and his dog on it. They are going West' 'Damn and blast, chief! Do you mean that you've known all this just listening to the ground?' 'I'm not listening to the ground. That son of a bitch ran over me' " Anonimous tale " Isn't it ironic... don't you think" Alanis Morisette Setsuna walked out the clean, bright corridors of the hospital, to the dirty, noisy streets of the city. She was staring at the emptiness of her mind. She could have pretty gone paniching about this, if she'd have any kind of feeling left. She didn't know if something like this has ever happened to her before. As she couldn't even remember the feeling that feelings might give. She was not fading into the miserable shape of dispair and painful, kind insanity. She was not thinking on how this could have happened just to HER, and that she've always believed she's going to live FOREVER, that this was NOT what was MEANT to be, and that she should do something, everything was within her power to save herself. She was not thinking at all. At first, her mind had worked really hard to do that. Whereas thoughts started rising from the green confusion in her head and clotting up into her brain, and then suddenly,they melted away, before she could even imagine their contents. Eventually she stopped trying. Physical feelings were more predictable, easier to understand. She had a desert in her mouth and seemed that chickens were having lunch with her gut. She could not feel her limbs, instead. She knew she was walking by the objects moving right around herself. Or, at least, she believed that they're really still and that she' s the one moving. Suddenly she heard someone screaming. That seemed to reach her attention. She glanced on her right side, without any interest. The scream had come from a little shop called "Dognuts&Company",on the other side of the street. Setsuna stopped and scanned her brain, searching for some kind of thought, emotion, pain, fear, anything she would have absolutely avoided in normal circumstances. Whereas she had not really wished to find any of them, she didn't. Of course, she would have not, even if she had longed for them to be there. But in this case there would have been desire, and this'd have been an emotion, at least. A young guy with a black jacket franticly came out of the shop, soon followed by a middle-aged woman shouting for help. The people around the shop nervously moved on or stood there in confusion. Thus, the young guy in the black jacket assumed the control of the situation. He pulled out a gun as black as his jacket and shot in direction of the shop. The shop window exploded in white fragments. The middle-aged woman screamed, retraiting inside the shop. Some people around screamed too, some threw themselves on the ground, the young guy with the black jacket turned and began shooting in jumbled confusion, shouting some words nobody heard but Setsuna , who was still standing on the other side of the street,emotionless. The words were : "FUCK YOU AND THE WHOLE WORLD !!" However, he had only five bullets left. The first reached the icecream of a little freckled girl. The icecream ( flavours: strawberry, chocolate, pistachio ) burst on her face and melted down her shirt (on which there was a cute drawing of a red ladybird),and she started crying loudly ,as her mommy would probably have told her off roughly for that whole dirty thing, and she did't even have her icecream anymore. The second reached a tree which was standing peacefully on bullet's path. It seemed to have a little mourning. The third reached the leg of an old man passing with a stick,who had not heard anything, and never realised what had been occurring. The fourth reached Setsuna. She felt it speeding to her, hissing over her shoulder and neck, passing through the hair. Some long, dark, green hair fell down the ground. Setsuna stared at them without moving. Eventually she moved a hand to check wherever the bullet could be. But it was no more around her body. It had passed further. The fifth reached a woman who was trying to protect her own children, her son, four years old, her daughter, ten years old,holding them tightly, innocently standing on bullet's path, and killed her . She seemed to have a little mournig too. Just an impression, probably. It was instanctaneous death, as the bullet pierced her skull in the temporal zone, and crawled fast into her brain. She fell down, on her kids, who were not crying yet. Matter of seconds, minutes,maybe. The young man in the black jacket ran away without anyone'd ever tried to stop him. The police did not arrive. Setsuna stood there for seven seconds longer, or maybe more. Then she walked away. At first she had not realised, but then she did. It was the first ( and only) thought she'd have had until the end of that day, so she caught him like a butterfly and kept it into her closet. Se had gone to the hospital with the car, and she was just walking home, by now. She did not even take in consideration the possibility of calling a taxi, or anything else. But as the sky was getting darker and cloudy she decided to cut across the park. She turned and came dow the stairs on her left side. When she was on the twelfth step (counting them from the bottom), her right food suddenly lost touch with earth and she crashed down headlong, hurting several parts of her body. She could feel her forehead knock violently on the ground and her central nervous headquarters collapsed. At first she didn't try to do anything . But then she did, of course. Very first thing, she opened her eyes. She was not relieved to realise that her sight was not blurry at all. She didn't feel anything again. Her one and only (beautiful, warm, delicious) butterfly (thought) had probably flown away from her closet. And she could not even feel sad for that. A child with a pink and yellow lollipop in his mouth crouched next to her and his dog followed, breathing right on her face. For far seven seconds she could only see the long pink tongue of the dog dangling and melting spittle all around, over her right hand too, of course, and the child's feet in red shoes. Eventually she scratched her nails on the ground and tried to get up. Surprisingly, she found pretty hard to. She could't guess why. Then she got it. Her left knee was just trapping her long dark hair under itself. She solved this little trouble, too, and got up. Ouh..her right ankle hurt. She looked down at it, and saw the child still sucking his lollipop, the dog still melting spittle all around. They both were looking at her with a serious look. She could not feel annoyed about that. By the way, her shoes' right heel had broken and that was probably the reason she slipped down. She painfully touched her forehead. There was no blood but some pebbles. She grimaced. With a last inexpressive look at the child and his dog, walked to the first trash folder she could find, took off her shoes and threw them both into it. Then, she walked away, barefoot, this time. The sun was still high and shining, though there was indeed this single big dirty cloud sailing in the sky. It started to rain. Useless to say, Setsuna had not got an umbrella. She was just walking in her new charming catathonic mood, barefoot. In not very much more than seven seconds, she got completely soaked. Her only reaction was continuing walking barefoot and soaked under the rain pouring, while the sun, still high and shinig, had been reflecting himself in the dark green mirror of her hair. The sun was still high and shinig, though it was still raining, too. Setsuna stopped soaked and barefoot in front of their home. She tried to sigh. She walked across the road. Second thing she realized was that the car was just speeding on to her. First was that she had not checked if the road was free before crossing it. For seven seconds she simply stood in the middle of the street, in sudden realization. And then, obviously, it was too late to dodge the accident. She looked at the fast red car approaching with all the intensness she could find in every corner of her own body. Painful, it was. But surely not as much as the impact could have ever been. Thus, she didn't try to escape, and she didn't try to relax, as well. She kept the voltage high all through her body. She never closed her eyes. Not even when the car's wheels shricked on the asphalt, and she could feel the air shifting, nor when the car simply avoided her, and flashed past at incredible speed, leaving her hair flowing in the pouring rain, in the shiny sun. And maybe something that the driver should have just yelled at her. Something not really nice, but rather witty, actually. About how she's completely DUMB, or something like that. Yes, that should be true. "I should have become completely DUMB" she softly whispered to herself, while walking across the last segment of the road, being back home, at last. End of Chapter 2-section A Ok, this is not the POINT of the story yet. If you want to get it (the point), go on reading Chapter 2b. This was only becoming too long for a single Chapter. If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms (constructive ones, preferably), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blanck (covered) cheeques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice-cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at Ok, this is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic and this is eventually the point of the story, I guess. Ah, I'm sparing you from Author's notes this time, as there are not relevant changes from the previous ones. Here's something that just has to be said, instead. By the way, all of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose,clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd think that there could be anything worth in my story and want to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from it, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time, it'd probably make me just honoured by that and you'll feel safer, ok? English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sure I have made some grammatical or spelling mistakes,some of them could be huge ones too, and I'm really SORRY for that. You, English writing,reading, speaking people, don't be annoyed at me for that. I would not have made mistakes of that kind, if I had written in my mother tongue. Please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. THANK YOU to Naoko Takeuchi, of course... Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and for his kindness to me. To "Heaven of Haruka" 's owner, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strenghtening my will of writing this. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. On with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13, I think. PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 2-b PRECIOUS THINGS that is FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING that is IT HAPPENS, SOMETIMES (epilogue) " Immortality is not a gift, Immortality is an achievement; And only those who strive mightily Shall possess it." Edgar Lee Master " ...The rest is silence - [ Dies ] " William Shakespeare " I should have become completely DUMB" she softly whispered to herself, while staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. A reddened and swoolen circle dominated on her forehead. It would turn green and then barely yellow in the next days. Setsuna undressed herself, letting clothes fall on the floor into firm confusion, and she wore a silky dressing-gown. She went to kitchen and took some ice from the freezer. She put it into a pouch and placed it on the red circle of her forehead. :" I should have become completely DUMB" she was thinking while she opened one of the cupboards' doors , took a white mug and a white big plastic bottle with a sticked-on label. As she was still hanging the ice upon her forehead with the right, Setsuna poured the liquid from the bottle with left hand, and with this one drived the mug to her lips. :" I should have become completely DUMB" she was thinking while she drank from the mug, just like the ice had frozen her thoughts, and that is perhaps the reason why she didn't realized that the liquid from the bottle was some kind of sweet turquoise. Nevertheless, she recognized the taste, nor the flavour, wasn't exactly what it was expected to be. She stared with horror at the turquoise liquid in the mug. Too late, of course, as it had already flown down through her throat, to her stomach. And it was from there that the first blow come. The ice pouch fell down from her right hand, just as she grabbed her own throat with it. The second blow was stronger and hurled her back. She fell, crashing down with her life, breath broken, beautiful dark hair spread around her trembling body. The mug fell from her left hand too, but it did not break. It rolled on the floor, sheding its content in a crescent moon shape, instead. As she was not able to look outside,the turquoise crescent moon was the last thing Setsuna saw, and her last, shivering thought was " I MUST have become REALLY DUMB" Rain was over, at last. Michiru closed the door behind herself. She was smiling. She was in an extatic mood, too. She had never witnessed at an event like the one which had occurred this day. Never seen rain pouring with such a big, blinding, white sun in the middle of the sky. Oh, well, she imagined that there should be a first time for everything. " Hello all of you! I'm home!" she said gaily. She walked the corridor, stopped and looked at herself in the mirror taking pleasure in noticing how gorgeous she was, she giggled, took a look at the kitchen where the light was still on, and Setsuna still unconscious on the floor, and went upstairs. She entered her room, reflecting herself in every reflecting surfaces. There were lots of. Arrogance. That was her worst failing. No problem, she loved it too. Actually there was NOTHING in herself that she does not love. She took off her raincoat and threw it on the bed. Eventually she got undressed and tried on the new dress she'd bought in the afternoon. It was quite a spring silky dress, light green, with roses and turquoise flowers on. No sleeves, it reached her ankles. She had seen it in the boutique window and she'd thought " That would be just PERFECT for me". And, actually it was, she was thinking, gazing around the dazzling vision in the mirror. She turned and acted like she'd be posing for some her own paintings. She lifted up her hair in order to release the beautiful neck and shoulders. Michiru frowned. She was still gorgeous, of course, but something disturbing had occurred. She leaned to the mirror, like she'd supposed to find the answer in the reflection's deep blue eyes. Of course, they didn't have any. But she'd realized one thing. She turned and looked at her room's door, wide open, and the light coming from downstairs. "What 's the hell Setsuna doing on the kitchen floor? " her thought was. " Hello all of you! I'm home" she said gaily. No response. Thus, she walked to the kitchen where the light was still on. She stopped on the door. Michiru was sitting at the kitchen table, quietly sipping something from a white mug. She seemed to be really thoughtful. Actually she was not, but Haruka didn't notice. "Hello again, dear" she said smiling . Then she briefly frowned and " What's this mess on the floor?" said. She did not wait for response this time. Her stomach gave her all the responses she needed. " Damn! " she cried out, pretty surpirsed too, " I'm staarving!! I have to eat something, anything, or I could die..had a nice day, dear?" Michiru stopped sipping from the white mug, and looked with deep interest at the black cold coffee waving in it. "..mmm... pretty an interesting one, I suppose.." she said. "Uh, really? What have you done ?" Michiru quietly set the mug down on the table and glared at the other moving around the kitchen, scanning for anything to eat. :" You want a written report?" she whispered slightly. :" ...uhm... isn't there some orange juice, uh?.." Michiru removed her best glare from her friend who was plainly not listening to her at all, and sighed. She figured she was talking to the black dancing cold coffee in the white mug . :" Well...let's see...I woke up these morning with a so nice dream still on my lips, went to violin lesson, got the teacher almost crazy and completely frustrated for how great I am and how she has nothing else to teach me, had two or three ideas for some paintings, one still about the sea, went shopping around and I've just found this dress which really suites me in that gorgeous way, Setsuna's dead, and for the first time in my life I've seen rain pouring while sun has been still high and dazzling in the sky" :" Great! " the other said, crunching some biscuits. Suddenly she gave a start and looked at her precious golden watch anxiously. :" Damnit... I'm late... I have to go to pick up Hotaru-chan..." She ran through the kitchen door, leaving Michiru sipping her coffee alone. She eventually turned back. "Uhm...'xcuse me...could you repeat what you've said ?" Michiru gazed at her with a blank expression on her face. "..mmm...for the first time in my life I've seen rain pouring while sun-" " No...not that...just what you've said before" Michiru sighed and closed her navy blue eyes in disapproval. " If only you ever were listening to me..." "No, uh, wait, actually I was...uh..listening to you" she lied, slightly blushing " ..it's only that I guess I've missed a part, there" " What part? " she asked harshily. " Uh... what you've said about Setsuna..." Michiru raised an eyebrow. " Oh, she's dead" Haruka came closer and leaned over the table, disbelief swinging in the air before her. :" Michiru,...are you all right ? " Michiru dropped her aqua colored eyes into the mug. : " I do feel nothing... don't know if it is good...I found her lying on the kitchen floor and I thought she had felt sick, but her eyes were glassy and dull, and she had her mouth full of some foam, and then she was definitely dead. So I cleaned her up and dragged her upstairs And I guess she still might be there , so, you can figure that out by yourself, anyway " First, Haruka just stood word and motion less. Then she turned, walked out the kitchen and went upstairs. Michiru finished up her coffee, got up and washed the mug. She stood silently listening to the stillness of the air. No noise was disturbing it. No noise at all. No scream, no word. No feelings too. Still, she didn't know if it could be a good sign. She went in the corridor and looked up at the dim light of the stairs. She slightly shivered. She took a small cardigan and wore it. " Haruka..." she called, first carefully, then lowder. No noise. No response. Nothing. Eventually she cried it out. " Haruka !!! Do I have to pick up Hotaru?" No response, of course. "Oh,well...I imagine I could take this like a 'yes'..." she softly whispered by herself as she took Haruka's car keys, and left. Hotaru shuddered slightly as she saw the yellow American car speeding to her ,shrieking and rolling like a drunk. She thought she should have known the reason why, but though she tried hard, she never guessed it. Eventually it stopped, just before her, and this sheared every thought of her. Inside there was Michiru, and she was not really smiling. Only something very similar to, but not exaclty a smile. She seemed to be outstanding somewhere, Hotaru thought as she passed around the car, opened the door and sat down. Hotaru peeked at her friend (the one she used to call Michiru-mama) with her violet mystical eyes, concluded there should be something wrong, but said nothing. She sat quietly, hugging her violin. Michiru was driving frantically. Not that she was aware of this, actually. At first, she'd noticed some kind of resistence in the car's engine, like it'd have realized that the driver was not the usual one, the dear friend who was expected to be. The she had stopped thinking about that. She didn't want to be distracted by those humble, useless thoughts anymore. They were keeping a side of her brain busy, and she needed to have it completely on her reserve. She had to think really hard, she had to try to figure out what she had to feel, here and now. She had no emptyness in her mind, though. Only a sweet lack of feelings, emotions. Inside her mind, well, there were plenty of other stuff, she believed. First of all, poppies. Poppies sweet wavering, poppies sweet scenting, poppies sweet jingling, poppies sweet sweet colours, from red deep to arcane yellow, poppies, poppies, fields of poppies, forests of poppies, seas of poppies (oh the sea). The car wavered too and then headed straight down the slope. Hotaru hugged her violin tightly, trying to convince herself that Michiru-mama would have never hurt her, or, at least, not the violin. The car slid on the sand, with lots of noise. Haruka's gonna kill me for that, Michiru thought. Or maybe she 's not. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon line, like a strained warrior, the sky was stealing colours from the poppies in her brain, red, deep red and arcane yellow (oh the sea), and the sea too. She drove the car at high speed straight to the sea. It plunged into the small waves, quickly turned left, salty water thundering and flashing outside, Michiru ordered the wheels an about-face, and they were on the sand again. She stopped the car. Michiru took a deep breath, closing her eyes. :" I'm sorry, Hotaru... I didn't want to make you scared, but I have to-" she softly whispered and stopped uncertain on the last word. She glanced at the other. Hotaru wasn't looking scared at all. Just sitting quietly there,hugging her violin. She had still faith in her. Michiru got out the car, realizing for the first time she was still wearing her slippers. She took them off, and walked barefoot on the warm sand, to the sea. She plunged into soft water, feeling its touch on her pale, precious skin, soaking her new silky dress, took her second deep breath of the day and deeply submerged. Not that something really changed. Eventually she had surrenderd at the feeling. Which was, nothing. Hotaru (and the yellow car) was patiently waiting on the sand, still hugging her violin, and still hugging it tightly. There was now a tiny splinter of fear (or maybe it was only care) into one of her violet violently mystical eyes, but Michiru didn't notice that minor difference between these two. She sat down at about half a meter from the little girl, soaking the golden sand. She silently scanned her ego. Here's what she found. It happens, sometimes, to feel absolutely nothing inside. No happyness, no pain, no breathe running in and out lungs, not even hearth beating. No warm, no cold. No wet, no dry. Nothing. That's what is occurring to me today. I don't know if it is good, like it seems I've already said before, because, y'see, I'm just feeling nothing. Not even felt this way ( that is, nothing, of course) before. Oh well, I believe there is a first time for everything. Hotaru sat down too. " W-what happened, Michiru-mama..? Is something wrong ?" she said, stumbling on every word. Michiru nodded slightly, without ever looking at her. " There is something you should know, Hotaru-chan..." end of Chapter 2-b Ok, I'm sorry again for any mistakes. If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms ( worthwhile and useful, if possible), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blanck (covered) cheeques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice-cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at e.bosco@areacom.it I love to receive e-mail, so forget your laziness and just write!! e.bosco@areacom.it Ok, this is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic. I'm sparing you from Author's notes this time too, as there are not relevant changes from the previous ones. Here's something that just has to be said, instead. The action is settled in a whatever city in a certain time I'm not revealing you yet. just know it is after Stars series. By the way, all of you shall know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. About the little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter they're copyrighted too, of course, by their respective authors. Sorry for not having said this before. Again, not sue me. If you'd like to know what the Italian passage means, go at the end of the chapter. MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose,clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd think that there could be anything worth in my story and want to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from it, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time, it'd probably make me just honored and you'll feel safer, ok? English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sure I could have made some grammatical or spelling mistakes, and I'm really SORRY for that. You, English writing,reading, speaking people, don't be annoyed at me for that. I would not have made mistakes of that kind, if I had written in my mother tongue. Please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. THANK YOU to Naoko Takeuchi, of course... Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and one of the funniest, wittiest, nicest guys on Earth!,for his kind advice and support. Thank you a million times, Jon! To Aljcia, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13, I think. PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 3 BURIAL PARTY that is IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY " Quant'è bella giovinezza, che si fugge tuttavia, chi vuol esser lieto sia, del doman non v'è certezza " Lorenzo De Medici (il Magnifico)* " Now I was very close to the secret, For I really could make friends with the bouquet By holding close to me the love for the bouquet And I was creeping upon the secret, but- " Edgar Lee Masters " It's a beautiful day The sun is shining I feel good And no-one's gonna stop me now, oh yeah " Queen It was a beautiful day. Michiru was sitting on the window sill. Kinda thing Haruka would do. She smiled. But _this_ one was _her_ day. Now, she could _feel_ it. She pulled her head away and let the sun kiss her faintly. Oh the (sea) sun was so sweet and kind, still much more than any man (and woman) she'd ever met (or lived with for years). The feeling (nothing) that she had in the previous days had disappeared. She felt better now. No, it was not_ better_yet. She felt just something. And that was still a good step on the path she was promised to be walking. She knew that "better" was just standing somewhere, hiding behind a centuries old oak tree, maybe. Or within a red big juicy apple. Behind her brain, a piece of her tiny soul was still working stubbornly, passionately, trying to figure out something she believe was probably very important. And she could already_feel_ it tinkling into her ears, tickling her fancy nostrils, ticking slightly into her throat, and she wanted to get drunk of this ( fffeeeeliiingg ), drink its sweeeet perfume like if it had been wine, drink its sweeet resounding within herself like if it had been poison, she wanted to submerge into it. Deeeeeply submerge!! The sun was still sweet and warm on her skin. Oh (the sea) , she buried her face deeper into its reassuring, silky caress. Again she smiled. Not than she had ever stopped. But her smile spread wider across her face, opening before closed lips. It was really a beautiful day. Oh, it shouldn't be, should it? she frowned a little. Yes, it is not fair, she resolutely thought. Oh, someone switch off this sun ! She opened her aqua colored eyes, at first, then gazed at her ghostly reflection in the window. Oh ( the sea ) she was beautiful too. Haruka quietly walked across the room. The light (Michiru) coming from the window (sill) was dazzling. She had to protect her eyes from it. The light became an orange remembrance through her long fingers. She lost her bearings, for a moment. She ran her fingers through short sandy hair of hers and, smoothly, glanced at Michiru merging within sunlight. She did not smile. Though a wave of sweetness softened her features. Some kind of sweet mother love, she thought. Suddenly, she felt sorry of having to disturb her sleepy meditation, and, for a second, or maybe two, she seriously considered the possibility of leaving her alone, there. But in the end, she sighed. " Michiru..." she whispered. The one she was calling by name, heard her voice and opened her eyes. Deep, blue, aqua colored. Beautiful. " Michiru...we have to go..." "Oh..." she answered, slightly smiling. Coming. That was the word. The very first one. Coming. Something's coming. Other words had to be coming. She was still sitting in silence near the car's window, holding her chin between two fingertips,drifting. Something beneath her head was spinning fast. She knew what it was. It was her brain's engine. It was working fast, detecting every single event of the past few days, in order to find the answer, which, she knew, was already there. Coming was the very first word it'd found. More were coming. Coming. They're coming. It's a beautiful day. " Oooooooh!! We're so laaaaate" the voice's tone increased, like she wasn't actually worried about it. Like she was only wandering and then, out of the blue, tripped into this familiar theme. " Naaah..." said the other voice, and they were pretty alike. And their clothes were too. The two girls ( the one sitting on the right side of the car, complaining about the time they'd not seized, the other driving the red car) were both wearing dark dresses. The driver wore a black velvet dress, long at her knees, a lace collar , and a red ribbon in her longest fairest hair. The complainer wore a dark grey dress, a small jersey embroidered with openworks, and black velvet ribbons around her cute odangos. The graveyard appeared on their right side. There was quite a lot of dark-dressed people out of the small chapel, and then, a dull tombstones' view. There were plenty of cars, too. Usagi realized that and peeped at the driver. Minako stopped the car, turned her head and went into reverse, with concentrated self-assurance. Usagi frowned, skeptically. " Oh, Mina...!" she said quickly, almost whispering " Come on... you do not want to make me believe that you actually _can_ park into that so naaarrow space, do you, uh? _I_ could never do anything like this,and your car is even bigger than_ mine_ " " Usagi , your car is an old crock ..." she answered patiently, starting the reverse manoeuvre. " My car works perfectly.." she said in return, pretty disappointed " and you will_ never_ be able to park in that..that...that cubbyhole!!" her voice grew bitter and higher. " Oh... really? Want to bet ?" she giggled again. Then she quickly turned the wheel, and cleverly drove the car into the narrow room. She switched the engine off, and leaned back in her seat. She giggled and two seconds later, they both were. " You were forgetting that I am the GREAT Aino Minako, the ace driver, the promising young Formula 1 racer ?" Their ( fair silver coated smooth radiant) laughters burst out both at the same time . Suddenly, they stopped, staring at each other. They moved their hands to their guilty lips. " Ooooh! But it is TERRIBLE!! _We_ are TERRIBLE ! How ever could... I mean, we are going to_ Setsuna's _funeral _and we still laugh and smile and lose ourselves into this kinda jokes..." Minako said. Usagi moved her eyes through the windshield, thoughtful. " Yesss..." she said, putting her right elbow on the window " It's... strange...I mean... it is not something anyone would ever have expected right by_me...nor do I.... I mean...I am used to burst out weeping big, loud tears screams if only I fall and graze my knee...instead,now... Setsuna's dead and my eyes are empty and dry like deserts...and I cannot squeeze out even a single tear..." " Oh! So...happens to you, too..." Minako sighed out in relief " I was becoming a little scared about it..." Usagi turned her sight to the dear friend at her left side. " Well,... if it happens to us both...that does not mean that it is actually, uh...normal, or good, y'see..." Minako grimaced slightly. " Yeap, I know....and you seem to be a little too much reasonable, today..." " Uh...you're right..." Usagi said, kinda despair, it sounded. Minako shrugged silly worries off her shoulders and giggled again. " Oh! No problem!" she cried out " I always have everything's necessary for every occurrence..." she searched for something into her cute little bag. " Taa- daaah! " she said cheerfully, showing a small bottle with pink label. "Uh...what is it? " " I don't know! But it makes you cry like nobody's business... ehi, even Hollywood stars use it !!" "Uhm...I hate eye drops. I'm never able to put them into...always close my eyes before" Usagi muttered, grimacing. " Oooh...nor do I ...we can help each other!" Usagi agreed, even if not convinced completely. They helped each other to put the lotion into their deep and deeper blue eyes, kneeling on the seats, making the car stagger. "Ehiii! It _tingles!!" "Sure that it tingles...it has to...it has to make you weep, clear?" When finished, they stared at each other with interest, both's eyes turning bloodshot , dropping tears. " Ok, now let's have a rehearsal..." Minako finally said, and started sobbing painfully. Usagi imitated her, with more experience at her side, like an old comedian. " Excellent" Minako burst out " Now we go. We're late" She got out of the car. " Oooooh!! We're so laaate" Usagi followed, sobbing loudly. They ran as fast as they could on the soft heavy grass. Usagi the first spotted the black haired , purple dressed girl, and, next to her the taller one, and the, naive, thinker. They were standing up in circle, muttering. Far a few meters, the three left outers were standing too, in casual order of tallness. First Haruka, in a London's smoke suit, Michiru leaning on her shoulder, holding disconsolate Hotaru's hand. They did not notice the two new comers. They were talking to a tall man, who looked pretty familiar to Usagi. Though this was not her worst worry at the moment. The two newcomers broke out the plain scene. "Oooooh! We're soooo laaaate" they cried in unison. The three younger girls turned to them, not really surprised. "No..." Morea quietly answered " the coffin's not here yet..." "Oh! Splendid!" Mina exclaimed, then suddenly blushed and frowned "..I mean, it's teeerrible ! Whuuuuaaaa!!!" she covered her face with hands. Usagi followed, leaning her head over the dear friend shoulder, doing her best to act deep sobs. " Usagi-chan..." A voice. An unexpected one. A beloved one. Usagi raised her dirty with tears face, eyes filled with watery pain. She saw the sad loving face she was not meant to see for months just here beside her, and she could no more keep control of her emotions. They burst out all together. " M-m-m-mamo-chan!!!" she stammered, falling on his neck, teardrops filled her eyes, and she cried for real, for the very first (and only) time, that ( beautiful) day. Usagi's loud baby- cry made her come to again. She raised her head from Haruka's shoulder and glanced at the inners' group. She was not listening to the man's speech, anyway. She vaguely realized she was still holding Hotaru's cold, sluggish hand. She asked herself why they could not be closer, once in a while. Ami and Rei were wearing dark glasses. Most people were. Wise thing, she knew, as the sun was already withering her aqua colored eyes. She softly sighed. She closed her eyes and searched within herself for the spinning -top beneath her brain. She found it, still whirling, and opened her eyes again, pretty relieved. Usagi was holding tightly Mamoru's arm, sinking her head on his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Meanwhile he was whispering her soft, sensible words (oh, words, coming was the first), caressing her odangos. " Ooooh...Mamo-chan...what if Chibi-Usa had been here..." she managed to say, sniffing and pouring salty drops all through her kind face. Michiru stiffened. Oh (the sea) Chibi-Usa. Chibi-Usa. Chibi...Usa. Chibi...-Us... She stood still, her pupils became wider, darkening her deep blue eyes, a smiling butterfly gently kissed her purple lips, leaving a dainty, subtle smile upon them, one of surprise (oh the sea) and of discovery. Change. Change, was the second word. The coffin arrived. Four black dressed men carried it. No one could ever know how there were so many people at Setsuna's funeral, as she had not been on Earth for a while. And no one asked, of course. They all sat on chairs outside the chapel, under the beautiful deep light blue sky and the shining, dazzling sun. The coffin was covered with white and violet flowers, and was set right before the new tombstone, near the place where the ground had been turned and dug. The priest started his sad, well-thought, sermon, in a monotonous tone. Usagi and Minako's sobs ran high and higher through warm, springtime's smell, sometimes. Hotaru had given up resolution, and acted just like a girl of her age should. She cried not loud or childish tears, though she tried to hide her face from others' sight with her too much short hair. The tall man sitting next to her, hold her in his arms. Haruka was not obviously listening to the priest. She was just doing the one thing she (anyone) would have loved to do for the rest of her (anyone's) days. She was looking at Michiru. There was something different, though. Something new. Not defined yet. Not something good. Something beautiful. Like the day, the beautiful day. She had not found the secret the words had been hiding yet. She was a little disappointed about this. She was used to be really clever in this kind of things. Oh (the sea) she was used to be really clever in just_ everything. Still, she could see the path they'd traced for her clearly. The spinning arrow she could (deeeeply) feel (ffeeeliingg) into her brain was her loyal guide, and she was holding it close, and tightly. She would not lose it, she would not lose the truth hiding beneath these scary humble words. She was scrambling, creeping, merging, burying herself into the words, and then, the secret she herself was already possessing, would be revealed. Change was coming. Yes. Few few little little steps, and she'll have done it. She knew. Oh ( the sea) it was really a beautiful day! They moved to the coffin, one by one. Or in couple, sometimes. First of the Senshi, was Rei. She silently whispered a prayer of her own religion, to her own god. The sun was burning over her dark hair, giving them scarlet highlights. Makoto went next. She stood there in doubtful mood. She felt very sad for something she could not really identify. Ami went next. She stood there in thoughtful mood, as usual. ' well...I don't know if this could be of any consolation...but your corpse was indeed the most beautiful I've seen during my whole practice in necropsy room...oh God...why did you do it?' she thought. '...uh...anyway...God, wherever you are, receive Setsuna in your arms, and protect her soul...and, please, couldn't you help me too in my Pathology examination tomorrow...ooh' she blushed vividly. Minako went next. She walked to the coffin wishing that none of the presents would have noticed her red ribbon. She kneeled and joined her hands in prayer. She waited a few seconds, and got up. She got rid of the ground on her knees. She was about turning and moving away but she stopped. She took the small bottle from the small cute bag and filled her eyes with new, convenient tears. She turned. Usagi and Mamoru were coming. ' Uuuhm...' she thought 'never noticed before that Usagi was so slim... yes, she's always been, though she eats so many sweets and cakes and toffees and...' Michiru (and Haruka) watched at them two, too. They watched at them and at Hotaru approaching the coffin, after them. She went alone. She wanted it to be this way. She could manage this by herself. She was no longer a child. Michiru ( and Haruka) watched at her too, not troubled at all. Finally they went to the coffin. And it was then that it occurred. For quite a moment she stood there in sudden realization. Then she grasped Haruka's arm until she gave a start for how much it hurt. She turned to Michiru and stared at her beautiful profile. " Michiru...it hurts!" she said softly, though urgently. Michiru turned to Haruka and gave her her delicious sweet best smile. She pushed Haruka to the coffin. Haruka was puzzled, stumbled, stopped, reaching equilibrium. She turned around again, with an unusual look on her face. Michiru was still there, few steps behind her, smiling her kindly smile. Uh, the 'something new' had changed itself in 'something she had never seen on this face before, something she had never expected to find there'. It wasn't something beautiful. It would have been like she had compared the sun ( this sun, shining high in the today's deep blue colored sky) to a flickering candle. It was very much more than that. Too much to stand it. She turned again and went to the coffin. Michiru went to the coffin, smiling at Haruka's melancholic face, alone. She stopped before it, and stood there, calm, hands clasped on her lap. She inhaled springtime honey smelling air. So, that is it. That is it. That is it. She could not handle with this yet. But she would. And as she knew, and believed this, her eyes grew wider and more transparent like the (sea) blue sky, and her body started to tremble with passion, so that at first none of them realized, though they all were a little worried, or sad for her. But no more as soon as they knew too. She was not sobbing. She was laughing. First they (Haruka) thought she had lost sanity . She wasn't an insane laughter, though. Oh ( the sea) she was not crazy. And as the laughter grew, and grew higher and brighter, spreading his resounding glory all around, making the sun to shine, the sky bluer,the flowers, daffodils and roses, on her dress, to blossom, the fishes to jump, they could only say there and listen to it, that sound of pure joy and release. Because it was beautiful, too. End of Chapter 3 Ok, I'm sorry again for any mistakes. The Italian passage 's (quite free) meaning is " Youth is so beautiful, and, so soon, it flees away. If you want to be filled with joy, just be it ! As you would not be sure of anything about tomorrow" If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms ( worthwhile and useful, if possible), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blank (covered) cheques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice-cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at e.bosco@areacom.it I love to receive e-mail, so forget your laziness and just write!! e.bosco@areacom.it Ok, this is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic. By the way, all of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha , and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. About the little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter they're copyrighted too, of course, by their respective authors. Again, not sue me. MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose, clear enough? Besides, if you'd think that there could be anything worth in my story and want to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from it, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time, it'd probably make me just honored and you'll feel safer, ok? English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sure I could have made some grammatical or spelling mistakes, and I'm really SORRY for that. You, English writing,reading, speaking people, don't be annoyed at me for that. I would not have made mistakes of that kind, if I had written in my mother tongue. Please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. THANK YOU to Naoko Takeuchi, of course... Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and one of the funniest, wittiest, nicest guys on Earth, for his advice and kind support. To Aljcia, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13, I think. PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 4 REI' S TEMPLE that is CHANGE'S COMING " But I don't care cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice and it's been HERE silent all these years " Tori Amos " It's a beautiful day I feel good, I feel right And no-one, no-one's gonna stop me now, Mama " Queen " When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, What will I be, Will I be pretty, Will I be rich, Here's what she said to me" Whoever the author might be The old creaking car moved jerkily through the street. At that time, there was no one else here, thanks the gods' wise sake. The ace driver ( who was clutching the wheel with so much strength that her knuckles were fading) tried to speed up, and the car's engine screamed in fiery anger. She managed to change gear, forgot to let in the clutch, made it seriously crunch. She glared at the passenger at her right side. " Not _one_ word_ Luna, do not say just_ one_ word" she hissed. " No...uh...I was only wondering..." the black kitten timidly said " wasn't it better if we just had caught public transport ? " " Are you kidding, Luna? Public transport are always LATE !!" The kitten sat in silence, but it was not difficult for Usagi to figure out what Luna's expression would have been like in one of her drawings. " Listen, Luna, I'm doing_my_ best_ ok? I'm doing_ my_ very_ best, and with this I would like to wander off the point" Usagi managed to park the trembling car. Rear wheels squeaked on the sidewalk's border, with a last groan of disapproval the car flooded. Usagi closed her eyes and sighed, grimacing. She had never understood the reason why there should be so many stair steps just on the way to a temple. Has no one ever thought about poor old people carrying themselves with a quivering stick, or about poor cute young girls carrying an awful delay? Every time she arrived at the top of those (useless and, everything considered, kinda annoying) stairs, she's panting and exhausted, and would like an ice-cream. A big, tasty, refreshing one. That happened expecially when she was awfully late, like this day. Oh, don't take anyone for a ride, Usagi, you're_ always_ late. No one could ever deny this. No one. At top of the stairs, in the vast courtyard before the temple, Rei was sweeping cherry-blossoms' petals. There were plenty there, in that season. Usagi (and Luna) ran headlong toward her. Usagi slammed the brakes on, she bent on her long legs, getting her wind back. She quickly lifted again, and rose right hand before herself. " NO ! Wait... Rei...I know. I'm late...I'm terrrrribly late...." she started. " No" Rei quietly said, sweeping sweet rose cherry blossoms. " Yes, I'm perfectly aware, I'm just always awfully late, I know, I know and it is not absolutely polite, expecially with you, my friends, who were always there for me, at the perfect time in the perfect place every time I needed you and...what?...uh, what have you said?" " No" Rei plainly said, sweeping sweet rose cherry blossoms " you're not late" For quite a moment, Usagi simply stood there, bewildered, (incredibly) speechless, looking pretty dumb. At last she opened her mouth, gasped a couple of times, until the voice came up again. " But....sure that I'm late, Rei" she muttered, frowning, and looked at her watch " I'm late of about...forty seven minutes..." Rei quietly raised her head, looked at the serene, cloudless sky, then at her own watch. " No...we've our meeting here in...uh...thirteen minutes..." Usagi widened her big blue eyes. " I AM ACTUALLY _ EARLY_ ???!!! " she cried out. Some scared birds took flight from cherry-trees, vexed by the girl's outcry. " Please, Usagi, don't scream..." Rei hissed. Usagi stopped screaming, staring at Rei in disbelief. A little thought ran through her cute mind. She half closed her eyes, eyeing at her friend, who was still sweeping sweet rose cherry blossoms. " Wait a minute, Rei" she said in a weird tone " that means that...you _ lied_ to me. You've told me we're going to meet here at 3.00 p.m and, instead... the meeting's at 4.00p.m., isn't it ? " Rei sighed, as she had been truly sorry. " Yes, it is...well, it was the only way to make you be here at right time, and it seems it has worked, after all... " Usagi crossed her arms, removing her best glare from her (I thought we were) friend. " Uhmp! That does not prevent that you've_ meanly _swindled _ me, and, as a consequence, I will no more be able to trust you, you understand that, don't you? " she said, casting a sidelong glance at her. Rei laughed, as she was not taking in serious consideration just one single word Usagi had been saying. Usagi grunted, tapping her foot nervously on the clean ground. " Well, considering the fact that I have still, uhm, ten minutes free, before the meeting, I guess I've plenty of time to have a big, tasty, refreshing ice-cream " she grumbled. Rei gave a start and stopped her, by holding her arm. " Eh no, my dear! " she said roughly " I've worked really _hard_ to make you be here early in time, and I'm NOT letting you go right NOW..." " Sure you're letting me go!" Usagi cried out. " No, I'm not letting you go! " " Let me go!" seriously. "I won't let you go!" seriously, too. " Let Me GO!" trying a first change in tune. " I won't let you go!" same tune as before. " Let me GO" kinda threat's tune now. " I wont' let you go" careless tune now. " Let me GO, it's an order of your Princess!!" in majestic glare. " You're not my Princess yet, and I won't let you go" she laughed, pretty amused too. " Let me GO!" lofty anger. " No, I won't!" still amused irritation. " Let me GO!" thrilling anger. " No, I won't!" shaking head. " Let me GO!" resolute. " No, I won't!" more resolute. " Let me GO!" struggling to free herself. " NO, I won't!" tightening the grip. " Let me GO!" strong. " No, I won't!" stronger. " Ooooh! Shut up Rei and LET ME GO!" exasperated. " No, I won't EVER!" fiery (fire) determined. " Let me GO!" " NO I wont'!" When the others arrived, almost all at the same time, the two girls were still shouting, face to face, butting forehead against forehead. " Let me GOOOO!" " No, I WOOOON'T!" " LET_ MEEE_ GOOOOOO!!!" " NOOO_ I_ WOOOON'T!!!" It looked like they were challenging one the other to reach the stars with the higher and higher growing tone of their voices. Mamoru, reasonable man he was, cleared his throat twice. The two girls turned around and stood there, speechless, at last. Then they gazed at each other, both disorientated. They had already forgotten the reason of this quarrel of theirs. Usagi's nose recovered first. She turned her neck so quickly that it creaked, staring at one in particular of the others with deep emotion, drops dancing over her eyes. " Ooooh, Mako-chan, you're _really_ my one and only devoted friend!" she cried out, ran toward the tall, strong girl and flung arms round her neck. Makoto smiled, pretty embarrassed. Three days past Setsuna's farewell, the Inners were sitting down on Rei's temple entrance's steps. Order: first (lower) row from right to left: Ami, Makoto, Minako (and Artemis); second (upper) row from left to right : (Luna and) Mamoru, Usagi, Rei. Three left Outers were at little distance, as usual. Haruka stood next to Michiru and Hotaru who were sitting on the low wall on the steps' side. Michiru was wearing a soft purple dress, Chinese decorations over it, swinging her elegant feet like if she had been a child. Hotaru, who was a child in facts, sat next to her, leaning on her shoulder, quiet and silent. " Sho uai uei uiar? " Haruka, who was guiltily tasting the flavors the wind was carrying this day, started briefly. " What ? " she said, confused. " uai uiei ui iar? " " What the hell is she saying? " " Usagi's asking why we are here" Michiru answered plainly to Haruka, swallowing the delicious chocolate crèpes Makoto had prepared for them all, sweet kind girl she was, and licking her lips. " Pvesaisli " Usagi nodded gratefully, mouth filled with Makoto's crèpes, dirty with chocolate. Mamoru blushed for her. Rei sighed, hopelessly, rising right hand to her forehead. " Oh dear! Usagi...how can you be so...silly!" she said. " AM NO FILLI!!" " You're the silliest person I know" " AM NO!" " Yes, you are" " AM NO!" " You are" " AM NO!" " You are" " AM NOOOOT!" " You are you are you are you-" " YOU TWO SHUT UP!" Everyone looked at the blue haired girl standing up between the two arguing girls,who were amazed too. Ami blushed vividly, and quickly sat down again. " I mean..." she said seriously " there's no time to argue, and eventually you both are acting very childish..." she looked up, blushed again. " Ooooh! Don't look at me that way, please" she said, covering her reddened face with hands. Michiru cleared her throat, licked her lips again, everyone gazed at her. " Mmm..." she smiled widely " these crèpes were delicious, indeed, Mako-chan...isn't there another left for me ? " Makoto tried a smile in return. " Eh...I'm sorry, but I'm afraid Usagi has eaten a lot of them and..." " Take mine... " Haruka cut them " it's really tasty, but it's enough for me...thanks, Mako-chan". Michiru took her crèpe and concentrated completely on it again. " Well...no one has answered to my question yet " Usagi said,licking her own fingertips. " Because your question is too silly to be worth answering" Rei hissed. Usagi snarled, scratching nails on her own knees. " Rei...this won't lead to anything, you know what Usagi's like, we all know,...and it is really very likely she has not guessed why we could ever be here" Luna wisely said. " We're here to talk about Setsuna" Ami said, looking up to Usagi. " Uh...why do we have to talk about Setsuna? She's dead " Usagi asked looking around, pretty confused. Michiru giggled. They (almost) all ignored her. Minako followed. They (almost) all gave her a severe glare. She stopped. " That's the point, odango atama" Mamoru said " Setsuna's dead and she was one of the Senshi. This is something which had never happened before" " Right. We all were dead once or twice in the past, but we'd always come back, and for all we knew, we should be supposed to live forever, or... well sort of..." Ami frowned " what is happened to Setsuna is something completely unexpected and...new. And we need to be together to face it..." " Uhmm" Usagi who had been turning her head from Mamoru to Ami, from Ami to Mamoru, and was now starting to feel giddy, stopped at last, mumbling. " Another fact which we must consider" Ami continued " is that Setsuna was also the Guardian of Time Gate, and we do not have any ideas about what her sudden death could mean" " True! If Setsuna's dead...uh...what about the past which was depending on the future, and about the future depending on the past and on the present... " Minako exclaimed " I mean, there could be time paradoxes, weird creatures from the outside, or from prehistoric times invading Earth..." " Oh, Minako... please try to act seriously" Makoto scolded her, rolling eyes. " But I _am_ actually acting_ seriously! " Minako exclaimed in return " I believe we should consider just _every_ hypothesis, even the one of huge Tyrannosaurus Rex invading our city's streets and squares, devouring nanny goats and tender wise white cats" Artemis shivered and fell down her shoulder " demolishing schools..." she giggled, starry eyes. " Minako, could you please stop this kinda delirium...we're trying to face strict troubles..." Ami sighed. " Very right, " Usagi said, giving a flattering smile " You don't eat this, Mina-chan ? Because if you don't want it..." " Maybe we've to find another person who could replace Setsuna as Sailor Pluto, and as Guardian of Time Gate" Rei said, thoughtfully . " Sure" Haruka grinned " Find another person who replaces Setsuna...oh for gods' sake, well, do it, if you can... better find her transformation pen just to begin with something, and her stick, for example, her talisman sphere, another example, the KEY for Time gate, because,y'see, she's not left any of these anywhere around there, then put everything together and...oh!" " Uh, was she being sarcastic? " Ami leaned over Rei's knees, wondering. Rei grimaced, without answering. " Have any better ideas? " she asked bitterly. " No" Haruka answered " But I think I rather agree to Usagi, I mean, why are we here? Setsuna's dead and she was one of us, she was a Senshi, and she was the mighty Guardian of Time...what are we supposed to do? Nothing. Nothing _at all. It is_not_ actually our duty to do anything about this, sad, situation. Whatever will be, will be-" " I agree " Michiru interrupted her, careless. She bit slightly the crèpe, staring at something she had not found outside herself. At last, she realized they were all looking at her, Haruka included. She gave a little start. " Oh (the sea) you want some, Haruka, it should have been the most delicious..." she said, offering the crèpe to the young woman she agreed with. Haruka shook her head, frowning both eyebrows. " Oh...what was I saying? Ah...yes, I agree" she run a hand through her turquoise wavy hair, closing her eyes " I agree..." she softly giggled and put two fingers on her chin " nothing new, I guess...but still different this time..." she opened her eyes again " I mean, generally I agree, but not in the way you might think I do" She finished her crèpe and got up. She gave Haruka a delightful, cheerful smile. The other was looking at her, a bit worried. Michiru took some slow, thoughtful steps. One, two, three. Four. She turned around. She bit her lips, rolling her eyes up, to the blue sky. " Setsuna's dead" she started, without caring about any of them "and she was one of us, and she was a Senshi, and she was the mighty Guardian of Time gate, and for all we know she should have been supposed to be immortal, but she's dead, so, what are_we_ supposed to do?" she lowered her eyes over them, blank, meaningful expression on her (beautiful) face " Nothing. Nothing at all. We're just here for this_nothing_. But I don't think that just one of you has hit the point" she paused and frowned a little. " Y'know, Setsuna was the Guardian of Time and her duty was to control that everything would be all right. Or at least she _believed_ that it was her final duty to take care that things would be like they're_meant _to be, which includes our lives, our personalities too..." Her eyes lit up with joy and she showed a radiant smile. She opened her arms wide. " But now...Setsuna' dead...there's NO more any Guardian of Time Gate, and you know what _ this_ means? We're FREE now, really, deeply, wonderfully, FREE. There's NO more something's MEANT to be one way and not just another...no one ever controlling the timeline, no one ever fixing what the better way, the meant-to-be way is...we're FREE, FREE FREE FOREVER FREE, whatever will be, will be" she laughed. The others (Haruka) stared at her in scary (serious) bewilderment. A light, shivering breeze blew up her impalpable dress, ran its fingertips through turquoise wavy hair, smoothly crept through slender legs and delicate ankles. Hotaru jumped down the low wall and ran to her, hugging her tightly. Her painful, liberating tears melted over Michiru's purple soft dress. Michiru put her hands over fragile shaking shoulders, just how once Setsuna was used (meant) to do, eventually crouched down and she hugged the little sobbing girl too, still laughing, glassy tears of pure joy rolling across her cheeks. " Whatever will be, will be " she told her tenderly. End of Chapter 4 Ok, I'm sorry again for any mistakes. LITTLE FAIR NOTE I'm pretty sure that there is not ONE only cherry tree at Rei's temple. I do not care about it AT ALL. So do you, please. Anyway, the reason why I put them here is to settle the time for this story to occur. Springtime, of course. And then, have you ever noticed that Rei's ALWAYS sweeping in the temple's courtyard ? If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms (constructive and distructive), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blank (covered) cheques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice-cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com (just in case you'd find the previous Mail server down) I love to receive e-mail, so forget your laziness and just write!! Ok, this is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic. FAIR WARNING I think this Chapter should be definitely rated PG-13. Some cursing occur here. If this could sound nauseating for any of you, well, that's exactly the effect I would like to produce. If this could be offensive for any of you, I'm sorry. Both cases, I beg your pardon. By the way, all of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It'd be useless. About the little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter they're copyrighted too, of course, by their respective authors. Again, not sue me. Note that Michiru's quoting a couple of Wilde's Salomè lines in her painting's thoughts. MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose,clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd think that there could be anything worth in my story and want to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from it, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time, it'd probably make me just honored and you'll feel safer, ok? English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sure I could have made some grammatical or spelling mistakes, and I'm really SORRY for that. You, English writing,reading, speaking people, don't be annoyed at me for that. I would not have made mistakes of that kind, if I had written in my mother tongue. Please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. THANK YOU to Naoko Takeuchi, of course... Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, about whom I want to stress the point that fair-reviewer Chris Davies's missing: he's THE BEST!! (no offence to anyone, of course). And not only Jon's stories are WONDERFUL and WITTY,but, I'd state this, he's one of the nicest guys I've ever known. So thank you very much, first for existing, then for_ your_ stories, and then for reading this, bearing my 'troubles with language',for giving me all your kind, great advices, support, and generous HELP!! Thank you a million times, Jon. To Aljcia, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all the SM Archive's owners who 'll post this for me. To all the people who've read it and be so kind to give me a comment about it, and to all of you who're gonna read it. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13 PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 5-a SEVENTH DAY that is CHANGE " SEVEN DAYS was all she wrote a kind of ultimatum note" Sting " She' s been everybody else's girl maybe one day she'll be her own " Tori Amos " And Beauty is a form of Genius- is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation " Oscar Wilde " Oi mèn ippèon stròton, oi dè pésdon, oi dè vàon faìs epì gàn mélainan émmenai kàlliston, égo dè kèn òtto tis ératai " Saffo " ' Disaster, my son ' " Anne Rice Seven days , springtime was in the air. Michiru leaned back her rocking-chair and swung forth and back, kindly reproducing the sweet cradle of (oh) the waving sea. Few notes softly tingled within her throat, modulated into a tender tune, so she peacefully closed her eyes and began whispering a lullaby to herself. A honey-bee buzzed around her for a moment, tempted by the purple blossoms of her lips. Her breath disturbed the flimsy thought-line of this tiny creature, and blew it into confusion. It wavered for a short time and eventually flew away. She felt her, had her, caught her in her nose before even in her brain. She smelt her. Soap. Through the (high deep intense intrusive intoxicating) scent of lilacs dropping from the porch up there, the (sweet clean plain discreet gentle) scent of soap. Soap and another fragrance no one would ever had suspected she could wear. She did not, in fact. Or, at least, not when they were showing in public. But she had felt it several times before, shifting with the wind while they were flashing together on the yellow fast car, along the shore, it melted with the wind and the biting smell of the sea. Once she had believed it was the_ wind_ itself carrying that scent of a woman. Then she had inhaled it through her dainty nostrils a couple of times, as they both were on the stage, distant enough from the crowd. Thus, she understood that her friend wore this kind of fragrance just when no one could possibly suspect it was her wearing it. Which meant both when she was completely alone or with lots, lots of people who obviously did not know her. She would have never wore it as she was going to a meeting with the Inners, for example, but she could wear it as going to the Opera or to Market Place, as she had already done, in facts. Yes, everybody noticed but no one was able to settle who was carrying that fragrance. Still, it was like the wind. She could not actually say what the fragrance was like, but it reminded her something from the East side of the world, spices and poppies, maybe. The small perfume bottle resting on the upper bath shelf reminded her of Meiou Setsuna, instead. The same glassy darkest wild green of her hair. Michiru smiled, but soon her smile quivered and mildly yielded to a different feeling rising up into her mind. She opened her eyes to see Haruka leaning over her, behind her. She was smiling, too, but Michiru could not understood why. She tried to smile again in return, even only for politeness, but she was not able to. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable there, and did not want Haruka to look at her that way, she was starting feeling confused, and she_hated_ feeling confused about anything. She had never had, after all. Haruka rose her head and looked straight on. Under her arms pressure the rocking-chair had stopped its swinging. She took a short breath of lilacs and sunny day, and run her fingers through short sandy hair. She yawned and stretched generously. Maiden delicacy had never been her strong point, Michiru briefly thought, and found herself able to smile again. " Had a sweet sleep, dear? " drowsy voice asked. Haruka had already come back in. She never waits for me to answer, Michiru thought in pretty disappointment. She never cares. She got up. " Nope" she said " I have not slept at all" " What ? " remote voice asked. " I HAVE- " she started, raising her voice, then sighed. She turned around, standing with hands on her refined hips, and grinned. She came into the kitchen, where Haruka was preparing some coffee. " I have not slept at all" she kindly repeated. " Uh...really? " Haruka glanced at her " Bad dreams? " " Nope " she shrugged and went to the refrigerator, took some ice-cream out " Just I did not felt sleepy,and why should I sleep if I don't feel sleepy? " took a large cup and threw two or three copious spoonfuls of nougat and hazel-nut-cob-ice-cream into. " Uhm...yes, I imagine that makes sense..." Haruka agreed, heedlessly, yawned widely and sat down " I'm ready to drop with sleep. I don't really understand why. I've never been used to this" She poured the coffee into a mug , and melted some cane lump sugar into it, putting her left elbow on the table, resting head over her hand. She took a cookie from the china-box , amazing tropical fishes Michiru herself had painted on it, and lazily soaked it in coffee. Michiru sat down in front of her, not really looking at her, childish _concentrated_ upon her ice-cream, deep brief wrinkle of will drawn between eyebrows, sitting slantingly, legs crossed, swinging her foot, stealing a glance toward the window, time to time,absent minded. She blended and squashed ice-cream, let it melt a little, get softened, setting sapiently apart candied fruits ( something she hated maybe even more than confusion ). " Hello" shy voice came from the front door. " Hi...'taru-chan...'w you doin'? " Haruka muttered, sleepily waving her hand. Michiru turned round on the chair, and looked at Hotaru, rather interested. So, she was still wearing that black dress. It's springtime, hasn't she realized it yet? , and she's a child. Children should happily wear cute colorful dresses, expecially in springtime. Not those dark, depressing suites. Foolishness, indeed. She just looks like she's still the Dark Messiah. " I'm glad to see you awake, Haruka-papa" she scary smiled " could you please help me with these ancient Greek literature, when you've finished your breakfast ? Not that I can't understand well, but Setsuna was used to stay there with me while I was studying and I guess I can not get used to the idea of-" She just looks like she's still a little bird quivering for coldness she has found in the inside. Bitterness abruptly showed up. " You should not call her Haruka-papa" Michiru said " she's female... and she's not your 'papa'. You father's Prof. Tomoe- have you already forgotten ?" Hotaru's pupils spread violently, almost erasing any sing of her violet mystical eyes. She stood there, thrown into black muddle, like someone had just hurt her stomach. Haruka gave Michiru a rough blaming glare. Glare that Michiru didn't even noticed, as she was turning her back on her. Michiru licked the spoon with lust. " Sure that I can help you, Hotaru-chan, and you can call me Haruka-papa as well...uhm...you wait for me in your room,please? I'll be there in a few minutes" she glanced at Michiru, melting her ice-cream like she was a child with the pleasure of discoveries, and opened her right hand to Hotaru "uh, maybe more ". Hotaru nodded and moved back, peeping at the two, with slight worry, or it was heavy, at least. Michiru followed her, dwelling upon her subtle shape of silence, never stopped smiling. " Michiru. We need to talk" She turned round. "Oh,really? About? what? About your problems with your sexuality? " Haruka smiled lovably, little frowning. " You're acting really weird these days. Since Setsuna's death, I mean. First you threw my car into the sea and you know how much it cost to have it cleaned up from sand and salt, but let's consider it lucky that the engine has not been irremediably ruined...still I can easily understand that, I suppose you might have been shocked, I was too, and it may be a normal reaction of a so tragic event, I mean, finding Setsuna dead on the kitchen floor could not be pleasant for anyone" she said, trying to force in the pictures of dead people she had seen through her life, she closed her eyes, put two fingers just on her right eyebrow and took a dim breath " and then your embarrassing behaviour at the funeral...but I can understand this too, and that scene you put on at our last meeting with the Inners, here's when I've begun to not understand you anymore... But_now_...you have mistreated Hotaru... She took it badly...why did you need to act that way just with her? You know she's missing Setsuna more than anyone else, probably so much more than we actually do. And, by the way, I live perfectly well with my sexuality, thank you" Michiru did not smile, plainly closed her eyes, slowly bowed. " Haruka, has anyone ever told you that only crazy people steadily assert that they're absolutely, perfectly sane? " She paused, though she did not really expect to get any response. She sighed. " So maybe you want to talk about that time when you have not saved my life" Haruka startled with surprise. " What do you mean, Michiru? " She grinned softly, before she took delightful ice- cream-full spoon to her delicious mouth. " I'm not surprised you don't remember...it happened more than once, anyway..." " What are you talking about ? I don't follow you " she answered, still into mild confusion. Michiru took another ice-cream's spoonful. She did not swallow it. She _tasted_it. Deeply. She gazed at Haruka like this was the very first time she saw her. Oh (the sea) probably that was not so very far from the truth. " You've never worried about saving my life . It has always been_me_ running to your rescue, not vice versa. Why ? " a sincere question, it was. Haruka stared at her, without getting a single good idea about a response, mouth half open. Michiru sighed, again. " Shall I give you a hint, to remember ? It has always been this way. The first time, I saved you from that formless monster, the day you got your stick...then it was that motorcycle-shaped monster Kaolinite sent to trap us and eventually that glorious day at the Marine Chathedral. Marine Chathedral... remind you of anything? I would never have let Eudial hurt you...why? " " But...but.." Haruka stammered, clearing her frozen throat once" You're wrong, Michiru. It did not actually depend on_me. We had a mission to carry out, have_you_ forgotten this? And the mission took priority on everything, our lives included " " Oh...and who decided this? Not me" Haruka swiftly scanned her ego, trying to figure if she was going to lose her temper. No, apparently not. Yet. " Michiru, I don't know and I don't want to argue with you 'bout this...it's not the matter I wanted to talk to you about-"" " I don't care about whether you want to talk about this or not! I _DO_ WANT to talk about this, HERE AND NOW , and we're going to_TALK_ about it here and now. Why haven't you ever saved my _fucking_ life, dear? You thought it was so much less important than a _fucking_ mission which could have brought us nowhere, and about which we knew kinda nothing, a part from what Mighty Setsuna said us. " " Michiru..." " No, let me tell you, Haruka. It was her. Setsuna. Once she came out of the blue and said us 'You ,feminine, gorgeous one, you're Sailor Neptune and you, masculine, gorgeous one, you're Sailor Uranus. You were these people in one of your fucking past lives and if you don't believe me try some fucking hypnotic sessions, or, simpler, try some of these fucking gooood psychotogenic pills stuffed with this sweeeet white dust I personally tested every morning of my fucking millennium-long life and, two weeks time, you will believe whatever whoever says, or at least you'll no longer care" " Michiru..." " Then, try to find talismans hidden in people hearts' crystals, never mind about their poor humble insignificant lives, uh? ' letting deliberately us unknown of the nice fact that we ourselves were keeping two of these fucking talismans in our pure hearts' crystals, and she had the third, surprise surprise!, so what was the aim de la Recherche ? Don't you guess, uh, clever one? FUCKING US AROUND, that was the Big Deal. FUCKING US AROUND, that was the Great Noble Purpose. FUCKING US AROUND, that was the Glorious Final Mission. She fucked us from the beginning, mighty, all-knowing, all-seeing Setsuna! Oh! I bet that she stayed ALL THE TIME at this fucking Gate o' Time of hers watching us, and laughing, like a all-mighty bitchy goddess like her should do, because she actually was fucking us all. And you have got fucked right from the beginning, of course. So have I " " Michiru, please..." " But it seems you can still bear this. Oh " grin " of course, you may be more used than me, to be fucked by former girls. But _I _do not like it _at all." " Michiru..." " Oh, did she also give us the great statement that 'there was nothing more important than the mission, which was love and kill, and nothing else, uh? You remember? I don't. I doubt this was all your idea. I mean you would have lost your life for the mission but not for me, and that's all there is to it.When I was eventually caught by Eudial you did not really try to save me. I did. I did it with all my left strength. I never did surrender, until my heart was broken, my life uprooted and torn apart with it. Never." her (beautiful) eyes' colour melted with heavy, scratching tears of pain, two gracious watery heavens " But_you_ did- it didn't take you long to surrender, did it? You didn't even get up, not once. I would have never let Eudial hurt you. Oh, actually, I_did_ not let Eudial hurt you. She hurt me, instead,... without you moving even once. SHE HURT ME!" " Michiru..." " SHE HURT ME! SHE TORTURED ME! SHE KILLED ME! WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING TO PROTECT ME, MAGNIFICENT SAILOR URANUS WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME WHY DIDN'T YOU AT LEAST STOP EUDIAL AND THEN KILL ME BY YOURSELF, YOU, STRONGEST ONE, HUH?" she lowered her watery eyes, turquoise (beautiful) hair lowered like curtain over (so beautiful still) angry face, she moved her hand to eyebrows and cheeks, shivering " I wonder if you ever even cared" she murmured. " Michiru, you'd better stop" Haruka said, her harsh voice coming with difficulty from burning throat. Her hands twisted into fists. " NO WAY, Haruka" Michiru turned against her like a snake " No one's gonna stop me NOW. I demand to know!" she banged the cup over the table, almost breaking it. She was so pale like all her blood had been drained from her body, though her eyes shone with that cruel, intense, bewitching light. Oh God, she was beautiful. I can't stand it. Haruka got up and moved out the kitchen. Michiru quickly followed. She reached her on kitchen's door, and grabbed her arm. " NO! You won't fly away now! I won't let you. It'd be too simple" Haruka did not move " I want my answer first. I deserve that, at least" Haruka turned back to her. She was in anger, she was seemingly, strangely keeping her temper, she was quivering. " Michiru" she started, astonished by the calm, blank tone of her own voice " you're forgetting the most important part. It was just you to tell me not to try to save your life. We made a deal about this. At least, that was what I thought. The way you made me believe. I thought you always agreed with me. I swear to God, though," her voice quaked in anger and pain " I would have tried to save you if not for the agreement, and you DO NOT just say that I didn't care" In return, Michiru laughed bitterly, leaving the grasp over her arm. She hugged herself with both arms, instead, and widely smiled. " Oh! Sure. That's fun. You never mind about anything I say and you just keep these few words in earnest" she giggled, and fluttered long eyelashes put two fingers behind her chin " ' Haruka, I beg you, no matter what happens, do not ever try to save my life, okay? you go straight on your way and finish the mission all by yourself' " she performed into a coquettish tone " ' Yes, Michiru, I know' 'Yes, you know'...and you take this seriously?" she laughed again, bitterly, and in a bitter tone she said "Oh, never figured I've been facing a pure naive little innocent girl...I tell you one thing now. No matter about anything concerning the fucking mission or that fucking agreement, dear, my life should have been much more important" " You've made your point, Michiru" Haruka said, her temper still refusing to slam the kitchen door against that (beautiful) face. " Well, you never asked me ' Please Michiru,support me. Please Michiru, help me. Please Michiru I need you. Please Michiru, whatever happens, don't let me die this way '. But I did it the same. I've always supported you, in everything, I've always been there for you,I've always been on your side, even when I didn't agree with you, I've given up my ambitions, my own opinions sometimes, all for your sake. And I've always managed to save your life. Always. Though you never asked me. And I'm sure, and I'm sincere with both you and myself while saying this, that I would have behaved the way I did even if you had implored me not to save your life. Not because I've been expecting something in return. It was just a feeling that I had to act this way. "But I have to tell you, it would have been nice if just once I could have someone supporting_me, helping me, protecting me, just once in my life. I did it for you, and you didn't do it for me. WHY, TEN'OU HARUKA? TELL ME WHY!" "Don't scream, Michiru. It ruins your temper...and all that might be graceful and pleasant you have rapidly turn into a witching tune..." " I rather prefer being a witch than a fucked bitch, my dear one. Answer me!" " You'd better control yourself, Michiru,you know I'm not so good in doing this" she lied and Michiru knew, of course, she always knows " Anyway, I'm not used to refusing gifts, expecially the ones as precious as life should be. Maybe my worst fault has been to never be able to thank you for all you've done for me. I barely dare to recall that day by myself. I knew you would have saved my life. And I admit I was well aware that you wouldn't ever observe our deal. You never really believed in it. I did, though. "That was something I've always thought I've made clear. I thought you always knew that I was going to comply with it. You did not, deliberately, on your own. That didn't depend on me. And the final point is that you tried to save my life,true, but whoever had asked you to? Not me, of course" she grinned. " Oh! So whatever you've done, this was all that BIG FUCKING DEAL's FAULT. Tell me, sweet Haruka, have you ever learned about thinking with your own brain? Are you aware enough to know that you possess one of these strange, funny things called consciousness? Do you really want to believe you'd always been a puppet in the Supreme Player's hands? No, I do have enough respect for you not to believe you could have been so silly. Make your own fucking responsibilities, love. Try to think_harder_, and maybe, I SAY, MAY BE, you'll figure out what I'm saying. Weren't you supposed to be the strong impetuous one? _I_ was meant to be the rational soul of the team, remember? Since when have you become so cool and rational, huh? It was supposed to be you bursting out like an earthquake, but no, it's me. "I've acted like a perfectly charming crazy little baby. Some irresistible feeling threw me straight into the arms of Death, just in order to preserve your sweet life. You. You just lay down arguing with Eudial about minor details, with your rational rational skull considering the fact that yes,it was SUCH a pity, that it should end like this, but FIRST were the MISSION and the DEAL, yes, yes, that's the way it's meant to be, and it's the way it will be. No one dares to interfere with the storyline, right? Or in name of Uranus, I'll punish you! Oh! " Maybe you're even worse than Setsuna. At least she has the excuse of being dumb, brain-washed , or, more likely, pulped by centuries. Probably she never got real FUN in all her fucking life, so she had found the idea of fucking us both, and all the unconscious, pretty, dumb world, irresistibly attractive. " But YOU. You know what I think? I think that you've had big FUN in just teasing me, like you're used to do with all other pretty girls, making me believe I was actually something special for you, not only something new, soon known, soon bored of, soon trashed. I was fooling myself, thinking you really did love me, in that weird way of yours, but the truth is that you did not actually care. You NEVER cared, and that's all there is to it. WHY? " (Speechless) Haruka stood silently, thoughtfully. She frowned a little, in order to make up her mind. Michiru's last sharp words were still echoing inside her ears,whirling with pain. Oh, I'm getting an headache. She wondered why she was not loosing her temper yet. " I don't' know" she recovered " Sure I'd always been loyal to the mission. And I think you've already given yourself all the answers you're asking me for. You had it in your little beautiful head so long before even asking about it. Believe what you want. And as all's said and done, you may be right." she glanced at her and gave her a cruel grin " cause at the moment, I simply don't care" " SO HERE'S WHAT YOU ACTUALLY THINK ?!" scorned Michiru screamed. " Here's what I actually think" serious Haruka replied. " WELL, FINE!" " Fine" Thus, they both stood in silence, sulky faces, not looking at each other. Haruka was the first to move, finally. Michiru realized. " NO! Stop!" she physically cut her off, interposing her hand toward her,her breath getting faster " What do you want to do?! Oh, no! Don't tell me! Just let me guess! I know what you're gonna do. You're going to walk out that door, then slam it and go riding your fast yellow car, speeding through city and country road like some mad driver, just to calm down your pretty nerves... and then you'll come back home, put your sad expression on your wonderful face and tell me 'Michiru...I'm really sorry...please, forgive me', and I'll be waiting here for you all this time and finally I'll forgive you... because of what? " she laughed, drawing her head back " because I love you? Noo... Fool, no. This is what is MEANT to be...but NO," she strongly frowned and that charming deep wrinkle of will again was drawn between eyebrows'line, " not today, not this time... I'M _NOT _ GONNA LET THIS HAPPEN...THIS IS _MY_ TIME, _NOW_" She shrugged and turned round,took her coat and walked resolutely to the door. (Puzzled) Haruka came back to her senses and slightly frowned. " You're_not_ gonna take my car,are you? " " Yes, I am!" she turned briefly, giving her a perversely charming smile. Haruka started, eyed the keys on the hall small wall-table and ran toward her. " No, you won't" she said. Michiru ran too through the long corridor. " Yes, I will" she said. It took Haruka half a second to reach her closely. " No you won't, I'm faster" she almost hissed into Michiru's delicate ears. Michiru giggled as she smelt the ravishing scent. " But I am smarter" she bent down and let the umbrella stand carefully fall. Haruka stumbled and fell heavily, badly hurting right wrist and knee. She softly cursed, beating her fist on the floor. Michiru caught the car's keys and shook them in triumph, laughing cheerfully. Haruka rose quickly, and Michiru turned round, opened the door, running precipitously and graciously, like a sweet pink ballerina's dance, the few stair steps between the Queen Victoria's styled house and the little white gate on the street. Haruka stretched out her arm, some wavy watery hair skimmed through her fingertips,and that was all she had left. Michiru reached the car and turned. She was still smiling, beautiful witching watery dazzling eyes lit up with feeling. " Then go ahead and FUCK YOU!" Haruka screamed. " With lots of pleasure, my love" she merrily laughed. Happiness, Dread, and Rage rarely have the same room within the same soul embodiment, at the same time. Rage. Yes, tender green seed of Rage which was silently crawling, growing into a carnivorous plant throughout her body,was definitely the strongest one, or at least the one which screamed loudest, arrogant and overpowering. Yes, it was really making a lot of noisy mess inside her brain. The only way out it found, her mouth. So she screamed it out, wildly. Making the noise, deafing annoying noise take furious flight out her gentle warm lips. She longed to shut up her head, at last. She pulled it out with all the clutching vibration of her muscles. In the end, she fought rage with rage. It was successful enough. Dread. The 'r' of Rage removed, it could be just 'Dead'. And probably it was. The Dread and the Dead were good companions. And the Dread which at the moment was slowly floating around her body, like a slim purple violet dark greenish eel, could be in some ways connected with the Dead one. But it was not fair. She'd been afraid of anything for much too long. She'd been waiting (for nothing) for much too long. Not as long as she had so radiant and clear in the see-saw of her thoughts what she wanted to do, and what she wanted to be, now. But MOST of all, Happiness, it was. Happiness was the most REAL of these. And she could be blind, deaf and dumb for how much she was HAPPY this time. Oh, she was happy happy happy happy happy happy so happy that she could not ever have known what happiness should be, before. Yes. And this will last, I know. This will last, will last few seconds, will last forever, but no one's gonna stop me now. I'll live it all, I'd like to tread this white line now till the end of time. Yes, Time. Time Traveling, for example, second by second, straight on, turning back, time to time, back to memories, future, present, past, yeah, Time Traveling, great thing. " Hello, Michiru" she said, in a blank tone, blank expression upon her face. " Hello" she said in return, not actually absent minded, but _concentrated_ on something else " could you please wait a second? I'm a little too busy at the moment to pay attention to anyone" She was going to have a bad ache in her back, but it would be worthwhile. She was standing on the seashore, little dawn-waves dancing around her feet, a soft caressing breeze blowing through her smart, simple dress . She was carrying on her left arm her large sketch-block, so that her back was uncomfortably, though slightly, bent, and rapidly drafting with a pencil. She never looked at the paper while drawing. Only few unconscious glances. Her hand seemed to be come up to life by a happy phantom. She was staring to the sky's liquid colors deeply plunging into the cold smoothness of (oh) the sea. Though, as someone who's standing at her side would be able to notice, she was not drawing about the sky nor the sea. Instead, she fixed her watery eyes over the watery surface of the sea as she could (oh the sea) soon see her thin reflection within it, the sea having always been the one mirror of her very soul. She always came to the sea shore when she wanted to explore her ego. She looked straight on at anything she could find inside her own ego. Great inspiration, sometimes. She briefly sighed, without realizing. Thus, what she was drawing was the city, no, better, the wreck, the decomposing corpse of the city, reproducing on the paper the view she had of her soul in this longest moment. Nine silhouettes were not actually standing, but sort of, into the frozen, dull, oppressive atmosphere of the place. She was projecting to paint it with thick, crazed, murky, gloomy oil-colours, getting less and less dense from the background to the ideal center of the wide canvas, just where the nine silhouettes, the Dead, were faintly struggling. About the light, well, some there should be. She had thought about a flaking sick moon, glittering of dim dim light. Oh (the sea), yes. Like a woman rising from the tomb, she should appear. Like a dead woman, searching from the Dead. Yes, yes. Just behind her glowing exhausted light, they were. She was working to give them faces and hearts and breath. She was working hard. The brief deep wrinkle of will appeared between her refined eyebrows. She drew the hands of one of Them covering a face which should be pretty and frantically yielding to despair. She drew the girl leaning to another's shoulder, bending in pain, praying for shelter and solace or sweet mother love, she looked like a disarmed child. The other, dark haired one, was yelling something . She did not know how this one looked, could not hear the words through the sea-mirror but she knew the face expression should be rage. Rage and Pain stay together and the two, high mourning and fiery, screams spread through the soft tiny dawn waves to the draft. She shivered, without ever realizing. She would not have been able to handle the commotion if she had simply looked at the inside. But the mirror wall of the sea gently protected her. She could just have been looking at one of her other (different) paintings, as well. She always loved painting those ideas rising up from the hidden closet of her self. It was obviously so much smarter than keeping them into a diary. And she was a smart girl, indeed. She likely smiled with satisfaction. She had the face for one of these silhouettes. It was hers. She stuck it on the paper and quickly walked over. The one standing in the middle of the draft, now. She concentrated deeper. The one standing in the middle of (oh) the sea. The one standing in the middle of my soul. For so many years. The one. Another smile spread across her (beautiful) face. Yes. She's the one. She draw her face by memory. The one who was into her dream last night. She (the one) was holding her ghostly hand through the mirror, like she was trying to catch the dreamer's sleepy self, her eyes wandering with a wounded, somehow scared, quivering sight-eyes, breathless. Michiru passed over to the girl standing above the ruins on the left side of the drawing. Some turquoise wavy hair lifted in the wind and blew upon her lips. She quickly raised her hand, kept the pencil between her lips, and drove watery hair behind her ear. She shook sore shoulder, took the pencil and drew long long dark hair for the girl. " Uhm...are you still here? " she did not wait for the answer, nor she glanced at the person standing at her left side even once " because if you really want to talk with me, you've to be patient and wait a little longer " " No problem, I have plenty of time" careless tone. " Do as you like it" Setsuna did. Ripples. Strange phenomenon. They do not need very much more than a lightest touch, and they begin spreading, spreading, wide, wide, wider. Strange phenomenon. Even stranger if occurs plainly into the sea. Ripples into the sea. Its glimmering surface has to be almost motionless if it could get ripples. She warily brought her big toe closer the water, and kindly gave it a little touch. Ripples. Ripples into the sea. She softly laughed at herself. You're being so silly tonight, love. She yawned. The sun had definitely rose up from the sea, and some sea gulls were tossing their meaningful screams into the air, playing with them, dancing with the sea power of their fancy's wings. She stretched and thought she would like to take a bath. She smiled, one minor thought ran through her head, she frowned. She turned and looked towards the young woman. Oh (the sea) have I thought she's young? No, actually she's not. She might be the eldest person I know. Though she does not show it. Oh (the sea) have I thought I know her? No, actually I don't. So she might be the eldest person I do not know. Why has she waited for me all this time? Wasn't it better if she had not lost her time, and I could freely get my bath now? She lied a polite (beautiful) smile to Setsuna. Setsuna tried to smile in return. Better if she had not. The result was wretched and, all considered, ridiculous. Only her well rooted manners held Michiru from laughing. She had probably never tried one single smile for centuries, she thought, managing to keep control, and with a touch of pretty good compassion. " I'm sorry you'd to wait for me so long" " It was my choice" " Yes, it was" They both paused. Michiru took a deep breath, running her fingers through turquoise watery hair, with obvious pleasure, closing her eyes. She glanced at the other again. " So, what do you want from me? " " I need to talk to you" blank voice, with blank expression. The wind blew through dusty long dark green hair, they wrapped up her body. " Oh " They faced each other, in silence. And what happened next, is notorious. She had always found hard to distinguish dawn from sundown, in that place. I mean, the sun settled almost at the same height over the sea, it only changed its direction of riding across the sky. And sky's colors were so likely, too. A mixture of orange and reddened yellow and pink fingerprints, she always got confused. Expecially when she sat on the rocks for hours, faintly thinking, burying into memories. When she finally came back to herself, she was never sure of how long she had been sitting there, emotionless. She shrugged, to get rid of confusion, first, and, important too, to loosen up her back tight muscles. She sighed longly. Seven days had passed, at last, and she'd made up her mind. She got up and looked down at the peaceful surface of the sea. Oh, the sea. My friend. My love. She giggled. I'm gonna do what I want to do, never mind of anything. No more dread, here. The future's in _my_ hands and I'll hold it so close, close to my heart, close to my breast, he could bite me, evily poison me, never mind,it would not leave me. Nor even if the world would crash down and crumble. I want to be _me_. Isn't it beautiful enough? You're acting like a selfish lonely child, dear. Of course, I do. I actually am a selfish lonely child. Finally some wind rose and gently pushed her back, releasing turquoise hair to fly on, embracing her precious neck. She casually put hands in the coat's closets. She slightly started. Something cold and slowly beating. She took it out and looked at it. It was her (snake) stick. Neptune. She turned it round and round in her hands, studied its shape, its colors, like she had never did before. Then she stopped and frowned. Her thoughts slowed velvety. Oh (the sea) she wanted to- NO. Don't tell me. Let me guess. Let me guess what I am doing now. She grinned. And what happened next, is obvious. She stopped, holding right arm lifted up. Could I possibly regret ?, she plainly considered. Her brain spun faster. Half a second, and the answer was there, printed in tasteful tunes. No. She wildly threw the stick into the sea. It ran along a gust a while, quickly twisted in the air, fell into the calm, goldened water. It made ripples. Ripples into the sea. This is crazy enough, love. " WHOOOOAAAAAAA!!!" she shouted with deep emotion " AT LAAAAST!!!! I AM FREEEE!!!!" and her laughter burst out, filled thin air with loud, ecstatic, pure sounds, like flights of sweet nightingales singing. She started jumping from rock to rock, leading, hugging herself into the dance, voluptuous woman she was. " I'M FREE I'M FREE I'M FREE I'M FREE I'M FREE I'M FREE I'M FREEEEE!!" she still cried out, exhilarated mood. She danced to the shoreline street where she had parked the yellow sport car she had rented this day. From a friend. She stopped, vaguely realizing she was barefoot. Uh-oh, she thought, briefly running fingertips through wavy hair. She took few slow steps toward the car. Something disturbing, not really a thought, but close, had flashed into her (beautiful) mind. Suddenly she felt like the black cat and her mind was the blue skein it was pursuing. She turned round, still hugging herself. She looked past the sea, thoughtfully. Was it regret? Of course, not. Concerning love. Something concerning love. Love and lust? No. Love and loyalty. Trust. She would hurt her. Oh, probably she had already hurt her. That was not good. Was not good at all. Want to give up? She seeked for the answer in the clean warm protective surface of the sea. Mirror of her very soul. Mirrors always tell the truth. She frowned, concentrating. No. She caught the skein with the dry, sharp claws of her ego and shrugged. So, ask me if I love her. Sure I do, the answer'll be. I always did, I will forever. I love her. She's my sweetheart. Then, ask me who I do love most. Me, the answer'll be. Me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and the sea. Me and the sea. By the time gulls had returned to their nests, she came back home. She slowly opened the door, and crept in. She stopped, holding breath back. Haruka was standing next to the stairs, arms crossed. She noticed her coming, and glared at her. Michiru shyly smiled. She leaned over the door and pushed it closed. She walked through the corridor, faltering, hands behind her back. She stopped at few steps from her grumpy friend. Haruka seriously raised up her right hand, showing her slightly swollen wrist. " It still hurts" she said into an accusatory tone. Michiru gaily laughed. Haruka blenched and frowned. " That was directed towards me, I suppose" Michiru said, amused " Oh,... I'm supposed to say 'I'm sorry!' now, right? "she giggled. Her smile faintly faded as she lowered her eyes. " Yes, I should " she said, thoughtfully, playing with little corns violin gave her left fingertips " Oh, well..I actually am..." She recovered. " Well, let's see about wrist " she grabbed Haruka and dragged her bewildered soul in the kitchen. She pushed her to sit down and took from the refrigerator some ice, put it upon Haruka's hurt wrist and eventually she sat slantigly next to her, leaning her elbow over the table. She had a sweet thoughtful enchanted smile drawn upon her blossom lips. " I'm sorry, Haruka. I'm sorry for most of the things I've said before" her mellow tender voice came up, poured like wild honey. " Most ? " " Most ..." she paused "some of them were true..." she slightly giggled, took Haruka's wrist, began fondly massaging it " anyway...you know I love you, don't you? " she quietly, pensively said, looking at the wrist. " Uh...yes" confused Haruka said. Michiru kept massaging the hurt wrist, smiling, waiting. She stopped. She lowered, leaned her head towards Haruka's sight, until she could fix beautiful aqua colored eyes into her deep colored ones, hidden behind some thoroughly ruffled forelocks of sandy hair. " Yes, and..?" she whispered, gently pressing her like a young long-practised mistress with a stubborn child. Haruka gave a little start. She rapidly moved her eyes around. "Mmm...I love you too ?" she tried. Michiru raised up, smiling an enchanting, delighted smile. "Yes, that's what I wanted to hear from you..." she frowned a little thought " uhm...have you helped Hotaru with her Greek literature ? " Haruka's eyes widened into a weird, funny expression. " Ooh..." she blushed. Unusual. Michiru sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. She got up, and left her alone. She went upstairs, diverted by inner secrets. The muddle of her soul was rising into more and more definite shapes, and the clarity that she had seen into plain sea was showing now its sharpest mood, something she had expected, but not so soon. She waited few seconds before the door. She bit her lips, and wanted to have her hair combed. Now? Now. You're acting pathetic, love. Yes, I'm acting pathetic. She took a deep breath and knocked at the door, so softly that probably not even ladybirds could have heard it. Oh, well, there's clearly no one here, or she's resting within her silent soul, and it'd be not fair to dis- Shut up. Where's all your bravery, little lady? This morning you're able to shout like a hysterical witch against anyone possibly loves you, and that was not difficult, even only because just _everyone_ possibly do love you. You're gonna go the whole way, right? Right. She opened the door. Hotaru was sitting at her desk, in front of a large window. The violet, lilac, liquid light of sundown strained over the pages of her books. She did not turn to Michiru as she timidly came in, nor when she sat mildly on her bed. She seemed not to have noticed her presence. Maybe better this way. I get up and be back lat-. No. She clenched her hands into fists. Something Haruka would do. Michiru sighed and broke hesitation. " Hotaru, I am really very sorry that you had to pass through all this..." She paused and listened to winded silence. Hotaru turned on the chair, and looked at her with a trustful, serene expression. A smile lit up her melancholic face. " Don't worry, Michiru-mama" a sad little frown " I just don't want you and Haruka-p...Haruka, to yell and argue like that" Michiru tried to smile too. " You're right. It is not safe for a little lady " Hotaru giggled, and turned to the sundown view of the city she had. Michiru clenched hands into fists again,and managed not to feel so nervous. She looked around, at the rosy walls, three dolls and a white teddy bear resting on the pillow, shelves carried with books, a picture of Hotaru and Chibi-Usa holding hands, laughing, at a pic-nic, one of her previous life. She suddenly found the key. Something she needed to know, before. "Hotaru" she asked " Don't you ever miss your father...I mean, prof Tomoe ?" Hotaru's dim profile vanished into bright purple light. " Yes, sure I do" she said, serious tone. " So ,why are you living here, with us..." she slightly shrugged "I mean, we are not actually, uh...your parents" Hotaru bowed her head, half closing mystical eyes, looking beyond. " Well.. I don't know..." she turned toward her, actually eyeing at the ceiling " maybe because we're the Outer Senshi and we've to stay together, we're a team" "Right " Michiru nodded, and leaned chin over her right hand "Still...also the Inners actually are a _team_, but they do not live together, they live in their own homes, with their own families. So, uh,..." she blushed, "dont' get me wrong, Hotaru-chan,...but I need to know...why are you actually living here? " Hotaru frowned, looking a little troubled. " Uhm...but I dunno...Setsuna did it. I mean, she came at my father's house and took me there , and then I grew up so quickly and then all these Stars Wars began and eventually I stayed, lived here and I'm living here now...but really I don't know...I think it's simply what's meant to be.." she stopped. Michiru's eyes got wider and filled with pleasure and blessing discovery. She had the enraptured expression of a purring kitten. Someone could even read visions of dazzled insanity within them. Of mature beautiful realization. " Michiru-mama...are you all right? " she asked, pretty worried. Michiru blenched, and serenely, she smiled. " Oh (the sea) yes, I am..." she leaned towards " Hotaru... There is something you should know..." Her stomach coarsely growled with impatience. " Mmmm..." she tapped her foot on the floor. " Michiru !! I'm not exactly in the mood for cooking. Want a pizza ?" She shouted carelessly from the kitchen. Downstairs. "NO !" Michiru shouted in return seemingly from her room. Upstairs. Haruka sighed and started checking their telephone-book. " Cantonese cooking ? " she kept shouting" Thai? Chinese ? Japanese ? Italian ? French? Stop me when you find the one you like-" she casually turned her head to the door. She stopped. Michiru was there. She had run down the stairs and stood leaning over the doorpost. She was panting, breathless, still smiling sprightly. Her reddened cheeks were only little detail about her beauty. " I'm not here for dinner " she said, this honey smile still proudly guarding her (beautiful) face. " Uh, really..."weird enough " where are you going ?" Michiru seemed not to be expecting this kind of question. She twisted her look aside, and nervously bit her lips. " Oh...actually I don't know..." she finally said, not glancing at her " wait, I'll call a taxi " She quickly turned round, picked up the phone and dialed number. Haruka frowned. Something's wrong. She's still beautiful and she loves me, but something's wrong. She moved across the kitchen and leaned against the table, resting the back of her long thighs over it. She listened to Michiru talking at the phone, a few words in a very gentle, soft tone. Something's wrong. No, not really. Something's just changed. Michiru slowly put down the receiver, and she turned round, leaning against the wall. Strange, she had still this scary sweet sweet smile flattering her (beautiful) face. " I'm leaving" she said. Haruka looked at her, frowned, thought, swallowed. " What? " she said. Michiru shrugged, pretty embarrassed, and left the protectiveness of the wall. " I'm leaving...and...oh" she raised fingers to her forehead, peeped at her "I've though it would be so hard..." she sighed, closed her eyes, " first, I never wanted to hurt any of you...so I'm sorry if that is actually what I'm doing... but I have to " she moved a step toward Haruka, got somehow scared by her stillness, she managed not to look at her eyes too many times " Try to understand, please...y'know...actually many things I've said today hide some truth...I mean, first there was Setsuna and she gave me that stick and told me that I was Sailor Neptune and that was my duty to protect the Planet and Moon princess...and finally I accepted it, though it would have been hard believing to anyone...but she told me that this was what it was meant to be for me...and eventually I believed her. I can't remember really well how this happened. She succeeded with me, anyway. And then I met you...no, better, Setsuna led me to you and she told that you were Sailor Uranus, and as long as I was Sailor Neptune, we were meant to be a separate, special team, and it was obvious that it had to be Sailor Neptune AND Sailor Uranus, and so Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus came, and then Michiru and Haruka came...and" she shook swiftly, slightly her head " y'see, that's the point, dear..." her smiled quivered, her (beautiful) face twisted with some kind of sorrow " I..." she raised her head, resolutely " I do no more want to be Sailor Neptune...and I do not want to be Sailor Neptune AND Sailor Uranus anymore...I do not want to be Michiru AND Haruka anymore...I do not want to be Michiru AND anybody else anymore...I just want to be Michiru" she breathed in relief, widened glowing eyes, she let this words resound sweetly in cold air, swinging between them two, beautiful too, "I just want to be Michiru AND then? Nothing. Only Michiru. I just want to be myself. For the first time, for the one only time in my life I want to be_ me_. I want to do what I want to do. I want to be what I want to be. Not do what I am _supposed_ or _meant_ to do, nor be what I am _supposed_ or_meant_ to be... I want to be FREE....and I am actually free now..." she smiled " nothing is ever meant to be anymore...that's what I was trying to say at Rei's temple, and that's what's bursting out so sudden, so unusual, I've not learnt yet how to handle with it. Still a pretty odd feeling, y'know?" she shrugged, gracious smiling mouth " oh,well, I suppose it's natural as it is the first time in my life I'm feeling this way...and,yes I believe that's the reason why all this bitterness showed up...today. I don't actually think that you've any faults in not saving my life. You're right. The mission had priority, and probably I had accepted this easily at that time, until now...now that so many things have been clarified...it's still difficult to accept them, and I threw all my rage at you, who has less faults than anyone ever...forgive me, Haruka...I'm acting like a selfish lonely child, I know. Yes. It's my worst fault, I believe. But please, try to understand and forgive...or at least, try to forget me, I...I don't know...maybe it'd be better for you that way " she frowned " yes, probably, it is...and still, remember wherever I'll be, I'll be always- " Door-bell fairly sang, three times, cutting her off. She looked at the door, and felt dread grovel within her gut. She scratched her stomach with her left hand. She was going to go the whole way. She'd promised to herself. She had to. "My taxi's here.." she turned on Haruka an imploring, wounded glance, her right hand fluttered toward her, stopped middle way, she closed her eyes, sadly smiled, hand fell down " Haruka, promise that you'll try too. Try to live your life the way you want to live it. You're free too. You lead the dance. You try to be free too, uh? " she murmured, broken hearted voice. She took a last image of her, trying to memorize most sweet details. " Farewell, sweetheart" she whispered. End of Chapter 5-a Puff puff, pant pant!! This was long!! Ok, I'm sorry again for any mistakes. ONE FAIR LITTLE NOTE, AGAIN. As you could have noticed, I've made Setsuna be the one who reminded Michiru she's Sailor Neptune, and gave her her stick. I don't know if that's something which is the manga. I've considered it plainly obvious. Still, Setsuna often has this role in other Fanfics. If this is simply an idea rose up in the mind of these authors,well, I'm taking it, and in this case I thank you, and, of course, you can flame me if you want. Hey...want to know what the (ancient) Greek passage means? NO WAY!! Just kidding: here's a (quite free) translation " What is the most beautiful thing upon the darkened soil? Somebody says ' An infantrymen army', somebody says' A cavalrymen army', somebody says 'Vessels fleets'; I say ' The one I love' " Saffo ( Greek poetess 7th century b.C.) If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms (constructive and sectructive, as well), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blank (covered) cheques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice-cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com (try this ONLY if the other Mail Server is down) I love to receive e-mail, so forget your laziness and just write!! FAIR WARNING This is definitely PG-13 rated (which means, if you're pretty little child, do not read). No sex occurs, but some (violent, graphic, explicit) contents might be offensive for someone. Be careful. I guess the perfect music for reading this should be right the one I was listening while writing it, that is "Under the pink" by Tori Amos, expecially side A, expecially "Waitress". This (pretty short) Chapter has been inspired by some lines from Neil Gaiman's " DEATH : High Cost of Living - Chapter One: The Spirit of Stairway". I'm quoting these lines at the beginning of the Chapter, and making explicit references throughout the text. Anyway, you don't have to know anything about Neil Gaiman's comics, in order to understand anything in my story. Though you'd be lucky, if you have been able to view some of his works, "High Cost of living", in particular. Why am I saying this, so? Pretty obvious. Usual disclaimer information. That is... "All of you might know that SM's copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, and these characters are being used WITHOUT their permission. Anyway, please, don't try to sue me. It' ll be useless. About the little quotes I'm putting at the beginning (and sometimes even within ) of each chapter they're copyrighted too, of course, by their respective authors, and I'm using them mostly without their permission, except for Jon Carp's one. Thanks for that, too, Jon. You others, don't sue me. MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT: a part from the characters' NAMES and few other things that I've picked up from the Anime, this story and all its rights are MINE MINE ALWAYS AND ONLY MINE. Don't try to copy or take any characters I could add without my permission, or I'll have your brain sucked out by your nose, clear enough? I could do that, I'm a Medicine student. Besides, if you'd think that there could be anything worth in my story and want to take any ideas or characters, or anything else from it, just e-mail me and you might have my permission. It will not take more than half a minute of your time, it'd probably make me just honoured by that and you'll feel safer, ok?" English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sure I could have made some grammatical or spelling mistakes, and I'm really SORRY for that. You, English writing,reading, speaking people, don't be annoyed at me for that. I would not have made mistakes of that kind, if I had written in my mother tongue. Please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. For details, see notes at the end of the chapter. THANK YOU to ( in not exactly open order ) Naoko Takeuchi, of course... Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. JON CARP, the GREATEST WRITER I've found on the Net, for writing all his WONDERFUL stories, for being so damn TALENTED and one of the funniest, wittiest, nicest guys on Earth, for all his support, advices, great and generous HELP, thank you. Thank you million times, Jon. To Aljcia, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strenghtening my will of writing this. To Death, delightful mistress of Life. To Chris Bachalo and Todd Klein, who gave Her eyes and body. To Neil Gaiman, who gave Her heart and mind. To Tori Amos, who gave Her (and Delirium and my Yelena) perfect voice. To Erika, who made me know Her. To Immora who told me what the original English text for "L'esprit d'escalier" passage is, and helped me not devastate this beautiful passage from "High Cost of Living" by Neil Gaiman. To Jupiter Knight, Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Haruka and Michiru, Immora, Aljcia and Jackie Chiang, who post this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13 PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 5-b L'ESPRIT D'ESCALIER that is HIGH COST OF LEAVING " There's this thing they have in French : L'esprit d'escalier. The spirit of the stairway. I don't think we have a word for it in English. It means, well, the clever things to say that you only think to yourself when you're on the way out. All the cool stuff you wish you'd said at the time." Neil Gaiman " Then that was it. Nothing. FIND, then KILL, then NOTHING. Sweet oblivion." Jon Carp ( Pain ) " All night long she sang with her breast against the thorn and the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened" Oscar Wilde (what) She stood leaning against the table, resting the back of her long thighs on it. (what) She stood clutching the border of the table, like it was a sheet anchor against the haughty storm. (what) She clenched her fingers, grasping the edge of the table, like she wanted to dig the polished wood. (what) She clenched her fingers, scratching her nails on the border of the table, until they hurt so much, like she wanted to make sure she was still alive. She was. (what) For quite a moment, she had felt empty. Something had just put her strained, worn out, dirty soul into a washing machine and took it out, if not exactly clean, at least renewed. (what) Still, there was something disconnected and sickening within her chest and a stupid voice inside her head was repeating 'what', trying out this single word in various tones, all rather contemptuous. (she said ' I'm leaving' you said 'what?' ) What . She nodded. Yes, I know. But there is this thing they say in French, l'esprit d'escalier. The spirit of stairway. I believe an expression like this does not exist in another language. It means, all the clever, witty, cruel things you would have liked to say, come up to your mind only when you're on your way out, walking down the stairs. And it's real, y'know? She wandered, felt lost. Only that...actually now _she_'s leaving, walking down the stairs, and I'm staying here, dumb and unmoving. (oh no after all you've said 'what' darling) Oh God, she's leaving. What can I do now ? (do what you have always done darling what you do best run clever girl run after her reach her grab her refined shoulders and then _KILL HER _ she'll be yours forever or nobody else's) She listened with care, briefly weighed the idea. Run. Find. Reach. Kill. She considered with smooth interest the several ways to do it. Break her neck. Shoot straight into her skull. Hammer a sharp knife between shoulder-blades. Strangle. Drown into the bathtub. She frowned. No, she concluded. That would not be a good solution. She firmly shook her head. Make her suffer through hell. That would be better. She slightly smiled, absent minded. Her head began whirling fast. She ignored the sickening sense of vertigo, and payed attention only to the contorted rattling of her brain, buzzing odious loud noise. Yes. Make her suffer. Run. Find. Reach. Catch. Grab her perfectly refined shoulders. Grab her turquoise (so beutiful) hair. Hurl her back. Make her fall to the ground, hurting her (beautiful) face, scratching knees and delicate fingers. Throw her just everywhere at least one part of her body could find a sharp corner. Pull her hair violently. Twist them wildly. Drive her head back. Make her scream. Her screams would be beautiful too, wouldn't they? Yes. Force her, drag her through the corridor. Drag her into a room filled with mirrors and reflective surfaces. An empty, well lit up room. Death. Humble, laughable, silly thing. Pain is so much better. Make her feel it, deep inside. Not physical pain. Not only. That beautiful body will not be a beautiful corpse. Cut, wrench beautiful watery hair, rend her pale silky skin, make all these old bloody secrets burst out with impatience, thrust in her all your justified rage, snatch her nails, cut off her fingers, cut off her breasts, rip her stomach open with a butcher knife, ravage this pure, keen coffin of lies and selfishness, uproot that ugly soul from such a beautiful figure, shred her beautiful face, scratch it deeply with nails and strike her and strike her and strike and strike again and again and again, until she's a muddle of bleeding consciousness. But will she be strong enough? Oh, yes. She's been strong enough about leaving me. She'll be strong. Her death was supposed to be slow, and slow and slow. She shall pray to be dead. She shall_scream_ to be dead. And MOST important, her eyes. Do I still remember her eyes? How ( beautiful) they look like ? Yes. Deep, intense blue eyes. She wanted to look into her eyes all the time. And her eyes shall be able to_see_ everything. She should be able to _see_her so beautiful body and so beautiful face spoiled, drowned into dark blood. She should be able to look into her torturer's delirious burning (beautiful too) eyes, at them both's reddened cheeks, one's for blood's crawling, other's for idolatruous love. She should be conscious all the time. She should _feel_ everything. She should be able to savour every single bitter, painful instant of her tragic decay. I could make her die this way. Because of self repugnance. But she's still my beloved one, after all. And in the end, I would always forgive her. And in the end, I will make love with the (beautiful) decomposing corpse for the first and last time. With_fierce_pleasure. I will plunge purple lips into warm soft scarlet ( beautiful) blessing bleeding mouth and consecrate our union beneath angels and hell's sake. Yes, she'll love me forever. No escape. No way to resist. She will not leave anymore. She would rather die because of lust, lust for death and corruption. That's the way to make it. And then I'll kill myself. She laughed. She almost was astonished by the bitteress rising within her throat. Because another feeling was following, and that was the really weird part. She paused, half closing her eyes. She drew her head back, looking up at the ceiling. She had no intention to do just one of the things she had so meticulously projected inside her brain. Catch her, hurt her, kill her? And then? Kill myself. Yes, sure. No, ridiculous. Why ? She seriously considered that question. She squeezed her brain, she scanned her struggling soul. Nothing. She could not find an answer. Wait. Yes. Of course. She was the nightingale. Her eyes thrilled in delightful discovery and her rosy lips curled into a charming enchanted smile. The nightingale she had found at the curb side, wounded wing, when she was fifteen, a September raining cold day. She had almost stepped on its shivering shape with her yellow rain-boots. It had probably been hurt by a wandering cat, or by a crazy old car. She had picked it up, hugged it to her bosom, and run home with the high acceleration of her already long long legs. She had dried it, built it a nest with raw cotton into a small basket. She had placed the nest on her bedside table, under the warm light of a lamp, and she had spent this first night watching over it, checking almost each second if the little bird was still breathing. She had taken care of it, and it had been healed. When she held her hand towards it, it jumped on her wrist, climbed upon her arm and settled on her shoulder. It placed its tiny beak close to her ear and started to sing the sweetest song she'd ever heard. It was a song of gratitude and love. And it was for her. She closed her eyes and faintly soaked with pleasure. Sometimes she had softly bitten her lips, and started whistling the beautiful tune. And high high grew the song, high high it grew, scarlet and blue. And there had been that day the nightingale stood gloomy at the window, for hours. Until it suddenly took flight. Michiru. The beautiful, heavenly nightingale. She had given us of the gift of her lofty, marvellous song. And she's flown away. And we all grieve a little more, for the cruel hole and silence she left behind are so huge and empty that they could strangle and overwhelm us. But she's free now, that's what she wants to be, and that's probably the only way nightingales can survive. She closed her eyes, softly smiling. She reduced every conscious thought to silence. She still stood, quietly listening to the fracture of her heart and its wounded beating. A single tear rolled through her pale left cheek, fell noiseless to the floor. She wondered why. End of Chapter 5-b Just in case you're forgetting... If you want to send me anything, comments, criticisms ( constructive and distructive as well), suggestions, ideas, money, credit cards numbers, blanck (covered) cheeques, invitations to dinner, dating for a cinema, a concert, an ice- cream, if you'd like to throw me roses or flames, or anything else, just e-mail me at e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com ( send mail here just in case the other Mail server'd be down) I love to receive e-mail, so forget your laziness and just write!! So, this is still my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic . FEW QUICK NOTES 1) This Chapter could be called some way an Interlude in the story. So, don't fall down your chair if you find out that nothing really happens here, and that it's rather plain. Flame me if you want. But wait for Chapter 7. Something's happening_there_. 2) I don't know just anything about the original manga's publication history, so here there should be some inconsistencies with real events. Oh, would you really mind about this? 3) Anyway, I'm considering the SM's events ( I mean, the events of SM's series from SM to SM Stars) to be occurred approximately in the arch of time the Anime had been broadcasted. The manga's publication and the Anime,instead, are set in the future. Like this whole story is. Still, I'm not telling you what this (= the title's) year is. 4) Why ever am I telling you this? Read and you'll know. 5) Translation for the Greek passage " Everything flows, nothing stays still " Eraclito Uhff. I'm getting actually SICK about this disclaimers' thing. They're actually awful, still it seems they're necessary, so here they are, in brief. Sailor Moon's names and characters are copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha and some others I do not mind to remember. The little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter are copyrighted to, by their respective, dead and alive, authors. Everything's used without the permission of any of them, a part from the Jon Carp's one (which, as you may notice, has a specific reference through the text). Thank you, Jon. You others,do not sue me. This story is copyrighted too, anyway, by MYSELF. You don't try to copy me, as I have not copied anyone else, okay? Thank you. And, again, English is not my mother tongue, I'm SORRY for mistakes of any kind. I would not have made them, if I had written in my mother tongue so, please, be patient. Responses are welcome, of course. Comments and flames go there e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com ( only if the other Mail server'd be down) THANK YOU to Takeuchi Naoko. This is due. Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. - JON CARP- Ok, ok. No meaning to offend anyone, but he's a GREAT writer, and my FAVOURITE SM' Fanfics' writer. His stories are the most WONDERFUL I've ever read. He's one of the nicest guys I've ever met. He's read this, and he's (seemingly) still alive. He's given me lots of help, generous and sage advice, support and encouragement. Thank you thank you thank you. To Alicja, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Aljcia, Immora, Haruka and Michiru, and Jackie Chiang, who're posting this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 6 ONE DAY that is SILENCE " Pànta coreì kaì oudèn mènei" Eraclito " She was the first girl on the moon She didn't compromise When she took off that cold afternoon Heading for the northern skies " Per Gessle " Would it happen to me? Will I just be carried by the wind ?" Jon Carp The cute little lady was sitting at the top of the hill, eyes closed. Her right foot was resting on her bike's pedal, left one firmly standing to the ground. She wore red shiny shoes. Tender pastel yellow cardigan, short lilac skirt. Arms casually resting in her lap. She was listening to the wind. The wind carried the silence and the yawn of the city, which was slowly awakening, below. She had waken up at the crack of dawn, and slunk out her father's house. She loved this. It made her feel like she was in actual danger, it made her feel like she was committing kind of a crime, and eventually, it made her feel not only exhilarated, but still_alive_. And being alive, again, was so a delicious feeling. She had greedily licked her lips as she had come out her room from the window-sill. She had jumped. Her read shoes had made no noise on the ground. She had smiled. There had been something wild and scaring in her smile, but no one had noticed. Of course. There was no one there. She slowly, carefully, silently walked through the yard. Her steps stroked the soft blooming grass, without even folding it. It was just like she'd never been there. The light was still sleepy and dim, and air fluttered with subtle coldness round the newcomer. The country was still plunged with silence. Her smile had spread wider upon her face. Silence had never made her feel uncomfortable. Many people did feel uncomfortable and/or scared by it, but she didn't. She was not less alone than these people should be, but, differently from them, she had learnt to love it. She did not exactly remember when or how the feeling had come up to life, but she knew she had peacefully made friend with silence, and since then, it had become her devoted allied. Yes, she loved silence. She placidly closed her eyes and listened to it. Perfect, sweet, smooth, melancholy silence. A bird's shrill call had broken it. She had furiously glared at it. It had stopped. She had taken her bike and cycled to the city. And there she was sitting, on the top of the last hill before the city, quietly listening to the wind. No more silence there. Breath of awakening city had cut it. First morning cars moving, first morning bread to be prepared, first morning wind carrying messages, voices, sounds, cards from morning dreamers' dreams. She crossed her arms, opened wild eyes and looked at the steep slope beneath her. She looked like the Infanta upon her ivory throne. The wind blew softly through her ears, through her hair. She frowned slightly. A weird smile got painted upon her pale lips. Could this ever happen to me? To be just carried by the wind ? She bowed her head over her right shoulder and laughed. She grasped the handlebar and pushed the bike to the slope. She strained it full speed ahead, and as acceleration grew faster, the whirling of pedals followed, and her feet left them, and she freely, wildly screamed, at the top of her lungs, reaping wind and silence. The joyful scream and the laughter fulfilled high morning scent as she felt the right constant strong pulse of her little powerful heart. Oh yes, she_was_ alive. She had never tried this before, not even in her short new life, but she was pretty sure that this was rather insane thing and sometimes it_was_ so_beautiful_to be_insane_. She quickly turned the handlebar at the bottom of the slope, spoked wheels shrieked on the asphalt, she kept equilibrium, cut the sharp bend and forced pedals to renewed speed. The milkman lorry honked toward her, but she did not care. She had no intention to leave this silky moment of grace. She prepared for another less steep slope, she rose up, stretching long limbed body, felt the power crawling dark beneath her forehead, closed her eyes and smiled voluptuously tasting the kiss of the wind upon her lips. She laughed again, and opened her violently mystical eyes as she drove headlong through the slope. The sun yawned little above the horizon line and burnt its light more vividly. It greeted the cute little lady flashing through city streets with a silent, fond whistle. She smiled in return and resolutely rushed into Westdawn park. She slowed down her bike and cheerfully jumped off. She silently walked toward the kiosk. The kiosk-man was turning his back on her, arranging the papers. She took few noiseless steps against him. "Hi !" she said, gaily. He started back and turned round. He stared at her blinking and with an amusing expression on his tanned face. He sighed in relief. " Hey little girl !" he gently waved his hand " you've scared me... haven't heard you comin' " She giggled. " Has it come out? " she urged. He opened his mouth into a nice smile and winked at her. " Of course" he said, got into the kiosk and ripped open a still intact bundle of papers. " You're the very first this morning...couldn't wait, huh? " She smiled and searched her pocket for money. He handed the volume to her. " Couldn't wait to know how it ends ? " " Yeap" she lied. She sat between the twisted roots of an ancient oak. She crushed everything around herself, summer, sun, the chattering of cicadas. Silence embraced her in its ghostly arms. It could have passed hours since she had sat down and she could have not even realized. Instead she sighed, closing the volume and looked up at the oak's branches, biting her lips. Sun was not high yet and time had slowed itself while she was reading. She wiped her eyes and jumped up, took her bike and rode to the bookshop where she was promised to have a date with an elder friend of hers. There was a little too much noise there for her taste. She grimaced in pretty disappointment and joined the queue, hugging her precious volume to the chest. Mostly there were children, and this fact only increased her bitter disappointment. She didn't liked them. They were not able to keep silence. They did not _respect_ silence. And eventually she didn't want to be one of them anymore. Looking at them she could see what (grown-up expecially) people saw when they looked at her. A cute little child. But she was not. She was not this_inside_. She liked her father to behave toward her like she was still a child, but it was because he wanted her to be still_his_ child for a while, and there was no likely reason for her to hurt him. After all, he had lost the chance to live_ her_ childhood even twice, and for the last time she felt a little guilty. She had liked the Senshi better than her own one father. No, she definitely did not want to hurt him anymore. And it was not that bad to feel that someone she loved so strongly loved her too and cared and only longed to lavish all his lost love above her. She probably would have liked even Haruka to act this way toward her, if only she had been able to reach her in the past few months. She had always had a weakness, for many things indeed, but for Haruka's cuddling in particular. It wasn't something someone would have ever expected from her to do. After living with her for a while, she had realized that Haruka reserved to anyone she loved one special, choice detail of her self, one different for each one of them. And always, they were things never expected to be shown just by her. And she did these with mellow, careless naturalness, like she would probably have done this for just anyone else, aside from their or her own presence on the planet, with the lightness of the wind. Thus, there had been the Fragrance for Michiru, and sweet Goodnight Cuddling for Hotaru, and Pussy-Cat for Usagi, and, well, probably she had had not enough time to state what could ever be welcomed by Setsuna. But in the end, Haruka had become elusive and faint to everyone, like the wind, more than ever. She obviously had not taken Michiru's departure personally, as it was not, of course, but this didn't mean that she had not cared. The little lady took a heedless glance at the crowd around. Some children were running back and forth, seemingly doing their best to annoy just everyone they bumped into. She snorted and hugged the volume tighter, summoning Silence around herself. She deeply concentrated and lowered street's voices and noises to whispers and soft twinkling. She wiped out everything but Silence. Michiru had never treated her like she was a child, instead. She had always acted with her like she was well aware that she was not talking to a cute little mind, though the minor size of her body. Nor Setsuna did. Though the thing Hotaru missed most of her friend was the way she had to put her hands over her own shoulders, seemingly both for thirst and gift of support and protection. Hotaru sighed heavily and closed her eyes. She hissed inner thoughts and plunged within Silence. Next thing she knew was the little girl with braids proudly yelling at her something, seemingly attempting to look huge and evil. Hotaru came to slowly, blinked and, not without a mood of blank annoyance,she switched the braided girl's voice on. "Uuaaah! " she roared " I'm Mistress Nine, the Messiah of Silence! " The sharpness of the scream cut her ears for a second. The little girl with braids took it like victory's anticipation and laughed with relish. She raised her arms and inhaled wildly. " I'm Mistress Nine ! I'm the Messiah of Silence and I'll Kill you in the name of Saturn!! " she roared toward her. The cute waiting lady smiled her a kind and understanding smile but the splinter in her left eye refused to agree to the general mood. Instead, it kept glowering of a dull vivid light, as lilac as the lady's short skirt. As lilac as the lady's twinkling coat of arms upon her forehead. " Oh, really ? I'm not " she answered, and politely bowed to the twice braided girl, " but I could throw the spell of Silence upon you, cute little baby " she smiled. The girl looked up, irresolute. Eventually she opened her mouth in a silent scream. A couple of hands clasped her thin shoulders and the scream burst out. " Nora ! " severe voice said " How many times shall I tell you that you must not annoy other people? " the not-braided woman looked down at the lady " forgive her, Miss, she's only a child " The braided child peeked a scary (scared) glance at her and turned crying on her mother's lap. Hotaru nodded slightly and sincerely smiled. It was not only the little joke of magic she had just played with the girl, of course. There was something more. She'd called me 'miss', she thought, filled with pleasure. She loved this, to be called 'miss', again. A lot of time had passed since the last time someone had called her that way. Yes, she was no longer a child. It made her feel good. No. It was more. It made her feel_pretty_. There were only few things which were able to make her feel actually _pretty_. One was Silence. And as a consequence, she had supposed that in more general terms, Love can make you feel _pretty_. Well, she imagined that there were some people who did not need love, and were always pretty, or beautiful. One of them was Michiru. She did not even need someone else to love, in order to feel pretty, as she was continuously in love with herself. Lots of excitement burst out as soon as the shop doors got opened by a young woman, cheerfully smiling, and stating into a polite indeed tone some rules necessary for the good outcome of the event. She looked at her watch and frowned. Weird, that. A deep high emotion grew inside her, step by step. She had never felt this way for anyone before. She had felt this way not even at Michiru's concerts, not even at Haruka's races. But it was rather obvious for Michiru to play wonderfully just as for Haruka to win every race she got in. In this case,instead, it was something not expected. And maybe the reason why Haruka's cuddling were so much appreciated was just because she was not expecting them from her, and this was what made them so precious. She giggled at herself and looked into the thin triangle drawn between a girl's right bent arm and his hip. Her elder friend was signing the volume, cheeks reddened, with a cheerful smile. Blonde long locks curled upon her left arm. As soon as the girl before her turned round holding the signed volume, Hotaru prepared and handed her copy, showing a wide smile. " Your drawings're wonderful, Usagi-sama" she exclaimed "... but I'm not that pretty..." She danced in the sun like a ladybird, spreading faint dark wings. Usagi smiled, stretching her arms and crossing them behind her neck. As her eyes followed the cute little dancer and her silver laughter, her stomach moaned with hunger. She stopped. " Hotaru-chan" she called. Hotaru turned round, wide happy smile. " Ehm...would you like something to eat ? " Hotaru giggled. " I've been expecting this. Yes, sure I'd like. Ice-cream ? " " Uh-uh" Usagi blushed. She was not used to feel embarrassed about her strong appetite but, after all, she had experienced lots of things to which she was not used in the last few months. So that she was getting used to not to be used to things. And sometimes that could be even fun. Almost since the spring of this same year the first of her comic books had been published. And reading public had welcomed it enthusiastically. Her popularity had grown enormously fast. Man, they were _her_ comic books, the ones which had been refused by many companies just few months before, likely because the market did not need another story about girls with short skirts and magical powers,one fact that have rather offended her, the Warrior for Love and Justice, future NeoQueen Serenity, to be considered in the same way of a waddling girl with attitudes for magics. On the other hand, she had always been honest about herself. A part from the secret (probably even to herself) detail that she'd portrayed herself a little more beautiful than she actually was, but, at any rate, not that much, she had always exposed to the public her deep-rooted faults, her childishness, her savage, uncontrolled starvation, her bad school results, her incapability to react if it had not been for some thrown roses or the loving (loved ) yelling of Rei. She had not avoided a little irony, and mild self-parody. With the approval of all her friends, she had told the truth about Sailor Moon and pretty soldiers who accompanied her through several battles. It had taken almost four years of her life to draw it all. First she had thought it was a good way to practice. Then she had discovered that it was, most of all, a good way to remember. And to give fair credits to everyone. She smiled again. Middle of May, she had moved from her parents' house. That had been the most huge turning-point of her life. Not even popularity could have ever get over it. Well, she had simply woken that morning with the weirdest feeling she had ever felt in her life-on-earth, and she had supposed she probably had not enough time to feel it during her brief trip-on-the-moon. In conclusion, Chiba Mamoru had almost strangled himself with his morning tea when she had quietly told him that, point one, she wanted to leave home, point two, she wanted to live alone, and outrageous point three, she wanted to learn to be independent and _responsible_. Luna had thought she was kidding, turned her back and run to a date with Artemis. The two had probably had the funniest time of their fuzzy furs that day, laughing about this. She had phoned it to Paris photographic studios where Minako had been lending her longest hair for L'Oreal Next Millenium calendar. She told then to Ami, Makoto and, last, of course, Rei. None of them had believed her. And, of course, she did it. She had rented a small apartment in a forty story building, and , not more than five days the idea had popped out of her mind, she had moved, leaving Luna and awfully worried parents home. In the next couple of weeks she had been not able to feel the loneliness. Mamoru had come to see her twenty six times, under the pretence that he actually wanted to help her with the furniture. Minako had come from Paris, carrying sun within herself, under the pretence of a vacation. Indeed, she had been the one to really believe in Usagi. Just after a brief inspection. That was trust, or maybe recklessness. Makoto had come to see her fifty eight times under the pretence of breakfasts, lunches, dinners and some appetizing snacks. Ami had come to see her about thirty one times but as she was no good in pretending, she put before herself the only truth of friendship. Rei was not good in pretending too, so she had come to see her with the only pretence that there were too many bad things in the world, and she knew well through spirits' consult, so she had huge need to amuse herself. And not less important, she wanted to be there when Usagi'd eventually give up. So she stood outside the building for hours, hidden behind trees and fog, under sunshine and rain, resolutely staring at Usagi's window, not even noting Ami's efforts of pulling her away. And in the end she had been the one to give up, mildly cursing to herself, wiping dust from the ground. They all met at the temple and stated that if Usagi could survive her own cousine, she could survive anything, and desisted in worrying about the Princess. Usagi started to feel loneliness sometimes but this made her only feel some kind of stronger too, so she didn't care that much. There was, besides, the fact that she knew about the slender shadow which was every day watching over her from the tall slender poplar before her window, and which waited for her to fall asleep, every night, before leaving. " So " Usagi cut off silence " how's life in the country? " Hotaru shifted her foot and licked chocolate. " Wonderful " she said " though it is not actually like we're out of civilization. Only few miles and you get into the big city" " Oh" Usagi gluttonously licked cream from the bottom to strawberry at the top. Her ice-cream looked like a Japanese ancient shrine, five story. " Mmm-'ve heard that Michiru's had an important performance with violin...uhm...somewhere in Italy, I guess " Hotaru blinked at her with surprise. " Yes...it had been at the beginning of July, on the occasion of the inauguration of the renewed Fenice's theatre, in Venice. She sent me some invitation tickets so I was able to join the concert. It had been great. Venice was great. The theatre was great. The music was great. And Michiru was great too" to say 'Michiru AND the music' was a nonsense and she knew, she'd seen her on the stage, dressed in white organdie,and as soon as her bow had touched the silver strings, she had truly_become_ the Music . Hotaru stopped her mild thoughts with a little frown. " Since how long do you interest in classical music? " Usagi clumsily sniggered. She licked banana's cream twice. " It's not as bad as I once thought. Mamo-chan has an_enourmous_ collection and he lent me some of his favourite CDs, so that if I suddenly feel sad and lonely for some reason I put them on and I feel just like I was with him" she mused " Then I have to get used to them, as I'm supposed to live with him so-" she realized what she was saying and blushed. She licked strawberry and chocolate, in order to hide it. " Uh...well, anyway...uh...I imagine Haruka came with you.." " No, papa came with me " she said, neuter tone, but then her voice softened and she shrugged, slightly " I have not seen Haruka since I went to papa's home, and she moved somewhere, anywhere, I don't even know the address. I've talked to her about five times, though, but only by phone" " She took it badly, I imagine" Hotaru looked up at Usagi's serious face, and frowned. " You think this is because of Michiru's departure, huh? " she shook her head " I don't believe so. I mean, that was something which puzzled everyone of us, but I think Haruka had accepted it rather quickly. Y'see, she understood. Michiru wanted to be free and she's free now, oh, you should see her_now_, she's nothing but actually, completely, wonderfully_free_ now. And Haruka understood this. I don't know how, but she did. I rather believe that she's a bit confused at the moment and needs to stay by her own for a time. In the meanwhile, she races. She races faster. Not only faster than everyone, but faster than ever" Hotaru jumped off and took some quiet steps away. She finished her ice-cream, looking at the sun. " Uh-uh" Usagi mumbled looking up at the clear empty sky " what about you, Hotaru?..." she asked, heedlessly following a thoughtline " I mean, how have you felt 'bout it ? " Hotaru silently gave a little start. Nobody had ever asked her. Nobody had ever seemed to care about this. Not even her father. Though she could easily understand him. She closed her eyes and concentrated to push back memories. She still saw Haruka ghastly wandering about empty rooms. Haruka quietly stirring her coffee, then shrugging like she had wanted to get rid of something unsound and disturbing, then " This place is awful" she had said with one vague smile of hers, vaguely waving her hand " I can't stand it anymore". And she saw herself, (silently) picking up the phone, (silently) dialing a number she had never thought before, then " Hi papa" she'd said " It's me. Would you mind if I come back home by tomorrow, in the afternoon? " and the answer, which had been silence, of course, a silence soaked with deep emotion. She could not certainly blame him if he had never investigated her feelings about Michiru's departure. He probably was overcome with joy or/and afraid of skimming along the subject. She opened her eyes and turned half round. " Sincerely, I don't know. I miss her, of course.She has never considered me a child. I mean, not even when I was, in facts. She's never thought about me like a 'baby'. She talked to me like I was a mature, skilled person. Not even Setsuna was able to do that. Setsuna kinda...adopted me, like I had been the baby she'd never had, and she taught me a lot of things, in order make me aware and develop my own talents, she cared for me. In some ways she taught me that I was different from others. Which, of course, I am. But Michiru has been the first to teach me that different could mean even 'special'. She's able to make me feel this way. She's able to make me feel 'grown-up'. and that's a good feeling." " You're pretty grown-up, Hotaru " the elder lady said, thoughtful. " I am now. But she believed that I already was, years ago. She was convinced 'bout that when she held me in her arms the very first time and gave me back to my father. She's always been convinced of that. Maybe that's the only was she has to love me..." she shrugged " anyway, she writes me once a week, and sometimes she phones too, and eventually it's like I could see her just everytime I'd like to" her voice turned into a different tone " And there are some people I knew and loved that I won't be able to see again for long long time..." she sadly paused, sighing. A couple of mystical eyes lingered upon long, straight hair, carefully combed into odangos. Hotaru smiled. Yes, she'd be wonderful mother for everyone,she smiled. "Yeap " she shrugged slightly " Time's strong thing to bear, sometimes. Expecially when you know you'll be missing the ones you love for quite a long...you know what I mean? " " Yes...uh...no " Hotaru giggled and leaned toward her. " I mean " she said, lowered the tone " when will we be able to see Chibi Usa again ?" Usagi started, plunging her nose into creamy ice-cream. " Oh...eh...that was what you meant...well.. " she blushed. Hotaru giggled again and took a turn on her red shoes. " Yes...Chibi Usa..." she frowned " I miss her, you know? " " Uh...well..." she blushed more vividly, manage to hide it behind ice cream, with the result she rubbed her forehead with strawberry-cream. " Don't you miss her ? " Usagi blinked and leaned against the bench. She raised her fingers to her forehead and took strawberries away. " You're asking me if I ever miss this little wicked, disloyal, perverse pest who always stole my sweets, stole my candies, stole my toffees, stole my cakes, stole my mother's love, who never missed a single chance to make me appear like an immature, stupid child, with whom the only pleasure I could have ever taken is to quarrel until my throat got dried like a desert, man, she was almost worse than Rei, of course I miss her, but you don't tell anyone, ok? " " Of course " she played with her shoes with the gravel on the ground " but when will we be able to see her again ? " she insisted. " But...uh...it doesn't actually depend on me...she'll be back just when-" " Oh no" she cut her off " she won't be back just when she'd like to. Not since Setsuna's dead. She could not be able to. Setsuna gave Chibi-Usa Time Key and Chibi-Usa returned it to Setsuna as soon as she has come back to the future last time. And Setsuna's dead. And Setsuna's not seemingly left Time Key anywhere 'round here. You know what happens when Time Key's lost? It's lost. In the centuries. There are no duplicates, y'know. Pluto was the one able to travel through time with it and she was the one who guarded it as well. She was also the one having the power to evoke it, and she's dead. Time Key's lost. No more Time trips from now on. So...y'see, actually it _does_ depend on _you_...you're her mother...and eventually _you_ should do your best to bring her back, as soon as possible..." She smiled. Usagi's ice-cream was slowly melting on her right hand and her skin had taken an unusual scarlet colour. " Well...I have to go now or papa'd worry. Thank you again, Usagi-san, for everything" she took few steps away " and you'll think about what I've told you, won't you? " Usagi did not move. So she left her that way, silent. End of Chapter 6 Hello everybody!! Here's Chapter 7 from Pretty Good Year by Heles MacAnemy. Thank you again for all your very good job!! Be fine Bye bye heles Ok, this is my first attempt to write a SM Fanfic. DISCLAIMERS GO HERE Sailor Moon's names and characters are copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha and some others I do not mind to remember. The little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter are copyrighted too, by their respective, dead or alive, authors. Everything's used without the permission of any of them, a part from the Jon Carp's one. Thank you, Jon. You others, not sue me. This story is copyrighted too, anyway, by MYSELF. You don't try to copy me, as I have not copied anyone else, okay? And, actually, I could have said that I have copyrights on Yelena too, if she had not belonged only to her all mighty self. Anyway, she's a character of my not-SailorMoon stories, so please, don't take even her name, for which the correct pronunciation is sort of 'Hielèna'. Thank you. LANGUAGE NOTE And, again, English is not my mother tongue, I'm SORRY for mistakes of any kind. I would not have made them, if I had written in my mother tongue, so, please, be patient. LITTLE HINT I'm using the pronoun "she" for the first part of the Chapter, instead of the actual noun of the senshi I'm talking about, just in order to not reveal you her identity. Anyway, the feminine character for this Chapter is ONE and only ONE. RESPONSES Responses are welcome, of course. Comments and flames go there e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com ( only if the other Mail server'd be down) THANKSGIVING PLACE This is mostly dedicated to Zago, for letting me run grasping his tail, with love. Thank you, old friend, wherever you are. THEN, THANKS TO Takeuchi Naoko Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. - JON CARP- For being himself. For writing his stories. For he's given me lots of help, support and encouragement. Thank you thank you thank you. To Alicja, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all who have read my story and be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this. To Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Aljcia, Immora, Haruka and Michiru, and Jackie Chiang, who're posting this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: R PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 7 Part (1) WALTZING BACK that is WATERLOVE " Boys on my left side Boys on my right side Boys in the middle and you're not here " Tori Amos " Dans ma cervelle se promene, Ansi qu'en son apprtament, Un beau chat, fort, doux et charmant " Charles Baudelaire " You ask yourself, who'd watch for me My only friend, who could it be, It's hard to say it, I hate to say it, but it's probably me" Sting She inhaled deeply, then let elusive smoke get slowly out. She raised her chin a bit during the process, slightly narrowed her eyes, curled lips in a weighed seductive manner. Silky smoke whirled in spirals and arabesques, ghastly floated between the slender driving mirror and the reflection's iridescent embodiment. Difficult to establish which one was the most real. She gave up the last ghost of smoke. It danced very naturally out of her nostrils. It made her look like a mythological winged creature, a fuming ancient dragon. Suddenly she felt lonely and vexed, and she shrugged smoke off like a willful child gets rid of a boring and old-fashioned toy. She threw the remains of the just and still lit cigarette out through car's window. She sat inactive and sulky for a while, tapping her right hand's ring finger on her tapering knee. She didn't wear any rings, though. The one jewel she granted herself with was a single pendant, hanging down her left ear, a small sphere and a wavering, dull silver cone, a dappled with subtle filigree's shapes. And as it has heard out the thought, in this moment it gives a brief twinkling, spins once cheerfully, tinkles her neck. She coughed the last naked light of smoke and got out of the car. She took an interested glance at the cigarette's body, still almost intact, still bravely burning on the ground. Mild white stiletto, the bright blazing dot, the shy thread of smoke, twisting, warbling into warm spirals, ten centimeters from wet ground. She crushed it, sweetly, cleverly, and she had the little quibbling and perverse thoughtfulness with which children tear off flees' wings. Her powerfully awaken senses could feel the brief tobacco's mourn ( a subtle 'fsssssst') frying against her copper suede boots, low and large around her slender ankle. Summertime had been captured within her dress. She looked, indeed, like precocious, wild little girl, who had run away from home, not giving a damn about dressing like a woman should in the civilized world, having seemingly thrown upon herself the first coat she'd found, just on her night gown. Truly she could have looked like a wild disobedient stubborn little girl, her father's last slap's shape stuck like a fire wale upon inflamed young beautiful cheeks and beautiful fervent lips, skin deviled by sun, hair brightened by high heavy sun, collected into ruffled braids. Riding a grey Arabian horse with her milky gown, trimmed with lace and grandma's precious embroideries and copper suede boots, she's free. A free, wild amazon. Sure, she could have been this, but first she had never been 'little', then she had never worn hair braids and eventually her skin had always been so much purer than cream, without any spots or freckles or sun's shade. Some leaves collected at her feet. She smiled at them mercifully. She did not care to button up her coat in the hurricane breeze of the night. She stared at the cold beauty of the dark sky studded with cold jewelry of stars, and quietly looked up through the dark street, lit only by the opalescent light of few exhausted lamps, the cold crystal moon speckled with turquoise moss and the orange neon sign of the 'Twisted Sun Cafè'. She crossed the street with lowered eyes, carefully tying her waist's laces and walked into the cafè like a glamourous,dazzling, bored queen, diamonds in her eyes. She took almost five steps from the door, then stopped, narrowing her eyes across the room. She looked around with even deeper interest than the one excited within herself by the cigarette's blazing corpse. She loved this place. Point one. It _changed_continuously, during the day. Point two. Customers arrived like _waves_. And each wave represented a particular class. First there were teen-agers with their orange juices and cup of peach cold tea and ice-creams and crepès, last there were mildly depressed, failed, divorced, deeper depressed, frustrated, hopeless or simply drunkard people. That was the class she felt most at ease with. At that time in the night, the place had turned from merry butterfly to the darkened shapes of the ghastly moth. Smoke accumulated over the high neon lights and kept floating between the ceiling and walls, like heavy and impalpable mist, forgetting the light. On the left, singers and piano's voice grew increasingly weak and tired, stressed by the harsh knells of billiards balls, snapping almost with rage on the green corners of the table. She shattered the moment and moved on, still smiling. She walked directly to the desk before the sparkling show case, filled with elegant liquors' bottles. She easily sat above one of the high stools. She crossed her legs and shuffled her right for, carelessly, leaned over the marble desk. Her copper silhouette, soft pale neck and the twinkling pendant, stone out in the line of black slanting coats. She obviously was the brightest one, though no one noticed. No one even turned at her. No one even turned at her whistled in appreciation, or astonishment. But they would have, if they had not been too drunk and dumb for even pulling their heads up from their dull glasses eyes. She faced the mirror wall, behind the shivering glow of bottles, and found her face between Orange and Lemon Vodka. She combed her hair, faded the intense grey eye-shadow with a fingertip. The waitress in white shirt tried a polite smile. " Can I help you? " she asked, low voice. " Uhm...Silence Glaive Surprise, please " she smiled in return. The waitress in white shirt seemed to come round a little bit and blinked once. Twice, shaking her head. " Uh...you...want it here? " she pointed out. " Yes" "Uh...well..." the sleeptalking pointed at the small tables behind them " there are tables right there...they may be more comfortable and...price's the same " " I know" she smiled wider " but I'd like to have it here, thank you " The waitress shrugged and gave up. " Uh- okay" Her pendant tinkled with satisfaction and the beautiful queen smiled in approval. She quickly tapped her fingers onto the marble, following a hidden motif in her brain. The waitress came back, carrying a huge ice-cream, into a huge rose crystal cup, nougat and glazed chestnuts crawling to the top where there was a small silver glaive, not actually threatening but close. " Thank you" she said, never giving up the smile. The waitress groaned and returned to her place, drying glasses, one and half meter away. The young woman gently took the glaive shaped spoon and started grating the chocolate and cobs' grains, tasting the cream behind. A man in long dirty coat, head sunk in shoulders' bow, like a rough turtle, burped sonorously at her left side, then plunged his nose again into his empty glass. She grimaced and took another spoon of cream variegated with dark chocolate and closed her purple lips over it. She wondered how ever they could have named an ice-cream that way. Well, it didn't look just like a common ice-cream. It looked like a mountain. And the glaive at the top. Perhaps the deep meaning of that, the actual symbol was that, after having destroyed the rest of the world, the warrior of Silence shall sit over there, hammer her silent glaive at the top, and gluttonously wolf down the last mountain of the planet. And the rest is Silence. Of course. She sighed, swallowing the cream and taking another full spoon of it. Oh no, that's stupid. She was so concentrated within her deep wise inner thoughts that she did not even realized the yellow rectangular clean shape of the card beneath her eyes. She stared at it (silently) surprised, her tongue moving over the metal taste of the spoon, twisting it between ivory teeth. Finally she took it, gently clasping it with long pale fingers and read it. Clear, plain handwriting. Block letters in black ink. ' AND I'VE THOUGHT THE TROUBLED ONE WAS ME ' This last word (ME) was laid out carefully with liveliness. She stared at the yellow card, increasingly amused within herself. And in the moment she knew she could have burst out in silver, perfect laughter, she turned to her right side, swirling the glaive- spoon at the corner of her mouth, which was dangerously curling upwards. She dwelt her look slowly first upon the glass half filled with warm milk, beautiful hands, should have been a musician's, black tidy coat. Feeling her glittering gaze upon himself, the guy at her right side slightly blushed, and smiled nicely. She took off the glaive-spoon from her mouth and bit her lips. " Uh..." she shrugged "..never heard 'bout that way of picking up girls, a creation of yours, I imagine ? " she mused, not looking at him "...gotta try it next time..." she chuckled " well...maybe with a different dress" She glanced at him, again, and put the card down. " Anyway, I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk" she concluded. For no seemingly reason, she felt serene and relaxed, so that she plunged the glaive spoon into cream and chocolate, and was about to have it merging inside her mouth, but another yellow clean card appeared. She took it, carefully dodging contact with his fingers, clasping hers upon the card's edges ' NO PROB . I CAN'T TALK ' Her ear ring twinkled once, but she didn't perceive. She turned, curious, her eyes glimmering wider, fluorescent vivid globes, through the shadows on her eyelids. " Can't talk ? " she repeated, slowly. The guy nodded, put two fingers on his smiling lips and shook his head. " Nor hear ? " she asked. His face turned in a surprised expression, frowned and shook his head. " You can hear " He nodded, enthusiastically. She turned and licked her lips, took another spoon of ice-cream. It came, eventually. She took the third yellow card and read it. ' ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK ? THERE'S NO BETTER LISTENER THAN ONE WHO COULD NOT RESPOND, DON'T YOU THINK SO ? ' It makes sense, she thought, irresponsibly. " Yeah. It makes sense" she heard herself saying " But I don't have any...no " She did not ever know why or how, she tried to think over,but before she could even reach the side of her brain where all her left wisdom should be set, she was talking with this unknown guy in long black coat, and as words fell down her lips she felt a part of her ego being dusted off silence, and she decided she would no longer spend that enormous amount of time into a such insane thing like thinking was. " It's not true " she swallowed, facing her reflection on the wall of bottles " Yes. My trouble is that I've been being what I've been told to be and doing what I've been told to do for so long and now, that I should be free to decide by my own...well, I don't know anymore what I would like to be or what I would like to do..." She turned. " So " she smiled with a cheerful expression on her face " here I am. Plunging my troubles into a mountain of cream, in the deep of the night , squalid perfect place " she took the spoon through her lips. He smiled his nice smile again. Amber eyes, she noticed. Unusual. " What about you ? " she asked, plunging the spoon, frowned to see that the cream was melting on the glassy surface of the crystal cup " what about your voice ? " He gasped a silent 'oh' and quickly wrote on the back of the last card with fountain pen, and handed her it. 'A STONE HEARTED WOMAN TOOK IT AWAY' She read it and looked deeper into his amber eyes . And, much to her dismay, she realized that she couldn't help the smile which got painted in bright colours through her lips. It rose very naturally, with glee. So she smiled. And they both did. She came out the shower box and found herself locked into a jail of water vapour. Good scent, anyway. She moved carefully across the bathroom, dried herself up with a towel. She took a horn comb and ran it through wet hair. The wall mirror was completely misted, so she passed her hand on in to get a more reflecting surface. She stopped, puzzled. She tried a smile. Two cheerful charming dimples got drawn at the corners of her mouth. She stopped immediately. She looked at herself into the mirror. Pure creamy perfect skin. No imperfections on there. No spots, no small defects, not even one single mole. Perfection. Disgusting. She was increasingly looking like her mother. Slim and slender like a poplar, long-limbed diaphanous cold perfected beauty. She couldn't stand it. She grabbed a short gown, finely striped in rose madder and slipped it on. Funny how it covered not even half the lenght of her tights. She walked across the warm autumn evening, trying not to make it colder. Actually, she would have not felt any bit of cold, not even if she had fell through snow falling, or if she had danced through snow dancing, which was almost the same. Instead, she would have felt uncomfortable if something or someone, circumstances or authoritative person had forced her to dress in a more convenient way for the season she was in. A justified shudder brought her back from her meditative mood. She looked down blinking at her hands holding the transparent, wet, melting block. Ice was, of course, icy,and she cut it with a punch on the kitchen table, put it into a big glass and poured some tea over it. Smiling, she walked to the music's room, taking obvious pleasure in the peaceful tingling of ice against the glass. The house was plunged into azure dusk fading across the wooden floor. Spacious, neat. Few elegant furniture, arranged into a casual order, or a meticulous disorder. There were no paintings there. Only frames, prevalently gilded wooden frames, decorated with leaves or abstract shapes, frames of every form and size, long and narrow, rectangular and oval, or small and placed in jumbled tidy confusion like a mosaic of twisted ivy and precious insects climbing the wall. And into the frames, mirrors. Not reflecting surfaces, though. Old mirrors. Misted, dull, blackened with smoke, spotted, eroded by time. The worm of time had nibbled thin dull surfaces, and distributed dark stains like soot's stripes and a few golden tenuous speckles. By far she preferred seeing herself into old mirrors. They reflected her beauty in a more wrenched way, less defined, less perfected. She liked seeing herself reflected into shop windows too, when sun's brilliant rays granted this for her, or wrapped by a smoky soft cloud. The only truly reflecting mirror she had kept, a little reluctantly, was the one on the bathroom's wall. A woman must have at least one reflecting surface. There should be some law unwritten somewhere with regard to this. And the only painting she had preserved, but in this case for a heart's wish, wicked and illogical,like most heart's wishes, had been placed in the music's room. The most convenient place to duel with memories. She came into it. The wide window on her left vaguely made up for the quiet dusk, but in the end it had no compete with shadows. And better that way, all considered. The painting was silently waiting behind the old dark piano, historiated with secret shapes, ivory gryphon feet. She kneeled and her right fore finger ran across the tiff covers of her 'favourites'. It slowed upon Schubert's, meditatively, and it stopped as it found what it was not properly seeking for, her right eyebrow rising in a satisfacted glimpse. The CD's back cover glided over its neighbours, like a velvet dark gloved hand and quietly rested in her palm. Four words were written in a gilded yellow, a couple of merciful, goggling cat's eyes, block trenchant letters, 'DEATH AND THE MAIDEN'. Ice cracked crystal clear in the glass as she put it down. She took the black disk from inside and set it into the player, with reverence. She closed the ceremony pushing the 'play' button, making the spinning machine inside run to the second track. She slightly smiled as the dim music raised, came to, came closer. She closed her eyes and could now listen to the wind coming to , coming closer. A wind she could breath. A wind she could feed herself with. A wind she could (love) live of. She took the glass and slowly turned to the picture. It covered practically the whole wall. She remembered when she had left home, long (long long time) time ago, last time. She had not been able to leave it there. Not that she had not tried. But the painting had silently called her, called her name through her dreams, called her name through her nightmares, called her through her sleepwalks, called her in her awakenings, called her in her sleepless nights, and eventually she had felt compelled to take it with her. She came closer to it, leaning the cold glass between her chin and her neck. It froze her skin, her tongue, her breath. Still, she could not establish if the coldness came to her from the glass or the painting. Violin's complaint plunged into her ear drums as she leaned against the piano. The painting was exactly like the first time she had seen it finished. Powerful. Gloomy and stifling atmosphere, but beyond and through the stillness of dismal air and the ruins on the background, throughout the dull sky insanely ran the eager, the impudent fervour of a storm, a sea storm without water, just dance whirls of torpid sooty colours. And in this thundering confusion, nine silhouettes stood lonely with their ruffled hopes and dead love. They were all women. They held the faintness and radiance of the aquatic Klimtian creatures. Shivering with coldness, burning by rage , struggling within their former lives, under the cold gleam of the moon. The moon has a strange look too. Like a woman rising from the tomb. Seeking for the dead. Seeking for Us. Sleepwalkers behind her, trapped in the miserable clench of majestic and evil creatures, spirits and embodied fears, monsters, drakes, dismay, pain. Dead or Alive, it makes no difference anyway. The dark long haired one still yells with rage and despair to the girl softly crying on her shoulder, burying her face in her own hands, praying for shelter and solace or sweet mother love, she looked like a disarmed child. The dark long haired's face twists into the commotion, between pain and pure fury. Her hair are dark, but burning. The girl sitting on the stone (a tombstone? who knows) plucks petals of a whitered rose (she does she does not she does she does not) deep red like dense clot of blood, deep red like the girl's lips, rapt expression, a wavy lock of turquoise (beautiful) hair glides before her eye (love me yes) a vague smile glides upon her lips, (loves me not loves me yes) the tore dress reveals a shoulder's creamy skin and the clavicle's refined shape. A little girl looks at her, standing before her, quietly, hands folded behind her back, in silence. Red shoes. The mellow voice of cello rose from the tomb above the consoled chirping of violin. The young woman outside the painting whispered few words she had heard once. "I am not rough, you shall sleep gently in my arms" Her. The One. The young woman inside the painting. The one who had stood quietly in the middle of her soul, (for so long long) waiting. She wears a silky petticoat, edged with black lace. She's holding her ghostly hand through the watery surface of the painting, eyes glows and glistens with a wounded, somehow scared, quivering sight, breathless. There was something peaceful and untouched coming from it. A single note, sung under the purest single frequency. It was not the music, the passionate sharp fervour of violins' waltzing behind her. It was purer than a note from any musical instrument, which invariably includes various overtones in addition to the fundamental frequency. It was knocking on her ear drums, though wilder and rougher, tingling her throat with honey's bitterness. It came from the painting before her, but was also behind her and beside her and in the salty scent which was running through her cheeks. It was within herself. She started. It was the ocean. Deep harsh ocean's voice, thundering and shuttering, swearing that it'll guard upon her until the morning sun will rise again, from her lips. She whirled, feeling the sting of pain in her neck. She was squeezing her left hand's fingers against her purple lips, violently biting the middle finger between white not honed teeth. Warm tears were glistening into her eyes ( which had turned surprisingly blue) and silently rolling down her cheeks (which she was sure were still pale and perfected if not for a sweet rose shade). And for a couple of short instants (if there had ever been long ones) she consciously believed she could find herself floating and sinking into the sea of tears which were collecting at her feet. Finally she quickly freed her fingers from her lips. " Cat " she called, trembling anxious voice. " Cat" she called again, moving gropingly, put down the cold glass, went out the music's room. " Cat " she repeated, her need growing to breathlessness " Cat !" she almost shouted, feeling lost. The ruffled fuzzy coat pounched on her shoulders making her start with relief. And with relief she sighed and almost could have laughed. She tenderly grabbed the furry skein, and clasped the kitten to her bosom. He mewed weakly. She hugged him tighter, still with delicacy, fondly scratching his long, ruffled multicoloured fur, looking down at his enigmatic green eyes. She vaguely realized that her lips had curled upwards, and that, after all, she couldn't care less. The little lynx-eared cat had closed his eyes and started purring. He purred strongly, pumping his paws to her breast bone, drawing soft red marks in her (purest pale perfected) skin with his tiny claws. And this time she seriously laughed. He jumped throughout the room, climbing on low sofas, and eventually he trapped the boring flee down his paw. He tossed the ruffled plume of his tail and carefully lifted his paw up. The flee stupidly hobbled around and he followed with interested sight, swinging big lynx-like ears. Sometimes he moved his head to look around, in order to be sure that no detail was escaping him, and giving the dumb flee a dim chance to escape, in facts. But it was too pathetically stupid, and did not even deserved his pity. So he wolfed it down and lied on his flank, not exactly satiated, but rather satisfied. He looked up at his new found friend. The young woman in the rose madder striped gown bent towards him and stroked his tawny head. " Good, good cat" she said. Cat. He was not. He was a fury. He could be called Gengis Khan. Or Gilgamesh, which she rather preferred, maybe. But she did not want to name the cat before she decided what she wanted to be and do. She took a white thin cigarette from a rosewooden small box and lit it, thoughtfully. She exhaled the smoke, narrowing her eyes. The ghost of her was looking at her from the wide window,in a serious and vaguely wistful mood, vanishing in the warmth of autumn twilight. She walked towards it, slowly. She could feel the rough surface of the wooden floor beneath her bare feet. The ghost walked towards her, slowly, in return. She stopped and pinned her eyes into its. The ghost returned. The window ran along the whole wall, from the floor to the ceiling. She leaned her forehead against the glass. What do you want from me? (you're beautiful, darling, you know? not (beautiful) , beautiful ) She started. The ghost started, drawing back. The ghost stared at her in pretty disappointment. ( you_should_ know, darling) Beyond the window, outside, her former love was waiting for her. Calling for her. A draped, liquid veil glided before her eyes adn she started again. Oh ( you're beautiful,y'know?) smoke had got into her eyes. She shrugged into an insolent mood and flung the window open, getting out on the brief porch. She stood there listening to the dark roar of the ocean. The house had been steadily stuck into salty rocks, still it was some tens of steps far from the sea. The sky was getting cold and grey and there was no wind there. It was seemingly swirling only by the ocean waves. Wind, sea, sand, she quietly thought, syllabizing the words in her head, as for a magic fromula. Could they possibly live separated? She had forgotten. She had forgotten how it felt to live by the grumbling crandle of the sea. She had forgotten (how beautiful you are) many many things. Some ashes fell on her right bare foot and her smile quivered. She instinctively threw the cigarette dow. Foolish, child, foolish foolish, she thought, staring at it brightly burning above wooden pavement. 'You're beautiful, y'know?', the ghost of smoke sang cheerfully, like a merry chorus. She placed her heel a couple of centimetres besides the resting incandescent spot, tip of her toes lifted up, then she carefully laid it down. She had her head thrown wildly back and she felt the quick scream rising up her throat as the pain burnt dead beneath her sole. She staggered few steps away and grabbed the railings, slipping on the first step of the stairway to the beach. She managed to stand up but the fever beneath her foot was too heavy, so she closed her eyes and dropped down the stairs. When she opened them back, her left flank hurt and she should have some small cut right upon her eyebrow. She got up, biting her lips, sank her foot in the sweetness of the sand and limbed to the sea. Among ten steps from it, she fell down, the ghosts from the past were haunting her again. No matter how much she tried, they always came back. She curled upon herself, silently tightly holding her knees, rocking back and forth, following the furious rhytm of the sea. She buried her face within pale skin, locking her eyes, not softly crying. When dread clutched her, that was the best remedy. She had been used tio do that, sweetly rocking way out herself in bed, when nightmared of the past had haunted her, when she had been a child. A long long time ago. How long? How long? She had fogotten. She had forgotten so ma- no. No. She had not. She had not. ( you had not darling) I had not. The wind whispered a frozen caress through her legs. She raised her head. The sea waas still there, thundering and mourning. It had waited for her. For so a long long time. Old, loyal friend, I'm back. I'm back for you. You'll never leave me, won't you ? No, you will not. (no it will not leave) You're the sea, my only love. She smiled and she ralized, with pretty dismay, that though it was getting more usual, it was not her usual smile. It was a kind of smile she had not smiled for long long time. How long? She didn't remem- uh,no. Wait. It has not been so long. She had smiled one to the guy with amber eyes last night, this she remembered clearly. And she was smiling one now, to the mild sea. It was like to rediscover something she had been very fond of and it had melt away n the wind and she had forgotten of it for long long time. But it had always been there. A silent, old puppet. She let it dance through her lips while she limbed to the sea, came closer to it, plunged into it. She walked into it far from the shore and the gown striped in rose madder fluttered around her body. She saw the high wave rising before herself, the smile laid down at the bottom of her soul, curling up like an old patient fox, wrapping her heart with the furry brush, and she sank into the wave. She submerged to the depth of the sea, strongly waving her arms, staring at the crystal blue sand. She emerged again and light had become dimmer, everything looked like painted in rose madder now. She looked up to see the wave above herself, curling and smiling. She took a deep breath and, with an accurate spring of her back and abdomen, she raised up like a mermaid and did no more only float, but she stood above the sea's troubled surface, she held herself up, _water_ held her up, whirled and curled around herself as her feet quietly glided across it and she threw her head back and laughed, and her laughter sang like a nightingale's song as she seeped into the ring of watr, powerfully bending above her, gently wrapping her, fondly embracing her, and beneath her, water, wave, sea carried her like a solicitous mother. Why, she wondered. Why. The smile scarily peeped between her lips, tickling the tip of her tongue. Oh yes. Because she loves me. Oh, she loves me. She sat down at her desk and switched the computer on. She had dried herself but refused to take a second shower. She wanted to feel the sweet salty taste of the sea on her own skin for a while more. >From the sitting room hi-fi, Norma Jean was singing ' Running Wild'. She took the cordless mouse between her fingers and cleverly moved it on the desk. Waiting the connection to get on, she lifted her right leg upon the desk, and bent against it, massging the ankle, in order to let blood circulate more easily to the wounded foot. She softly bit her lips and clicked on the mouse's left button, heedlessy checking mail, busy with her massaging. There were not much more than three people who knew her e-mail address, but it had become kind of a habit. Kind of an illusion maybe. The illusion that someone would have cared onough to write to her. Thus, she thought it should be a kind of delusion this time, as the browser comunicate her in an inexpressive plain tune ( no jumps for glee, no fireworks on the screen) like it had been something ususal, that it was receiving 1 message of 1. She rapidly considered if she should enjoy nail polish on her toes' and thought it should be Ami. She stopped massaging and clicked to open the unread message. It was not Ami. Hands. Beautiful hands. Clean, smooth, slender, tapering light fingers. Were they the first thing she had noticed? She didn't remember. Were they the reason she came there? She didn't know. Was this an awful mistake? She didn't care. She simply sat there, staring them waltzing back before her, past thinking. She could have smiled, had it not been for the tragic story they were telling about. " Uh,no...wait" she slightly started, frowning " wait wait wait wait. I- I'm not following..." He stopped. She leant towards him and slowly reproduced the last signs his hands had moved. " And?..." she said eventually. He chucled, shaking his head. He raised left fore finger as for asking for her permission and leaned across the table,gently took her hand. He led it through the waltz time with his. She grew increasingly amazed. " Oh" she gaped in her lovely way and he stopped " yes, I've understood. Go on " and she bit her lips and waved her hand. He leant back his chair and quietly obeyed. ' So it came this day when I opened our flat's door and she was there, like not exactly waiting, suitcases in both hands, y'know, she was leaving and looked at me with that surprised gaze. And she said "Oh well, I've left you a note on the kitchen table, but probably it's fairer that way, that I tell you directly. It's over. I'm leaving. Not that it's your fault, but it doesn't work anymore. I'm sorry. Farewell" And she passed over' he shrugged, still puzzled. " And you ? " she asked warily, heedlessly biting her fingertips " what did you do ? " He wrinkled his left amber eye, and quickly waltzed his hands in a ' Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You won't believe me, but I just closed the door, went into the kitchen, clutched the edge of the table like it had been my last sheet anchor, and stood there, motionless, speechless' " Speechless" she tuned the waltz step within her voice. He nodded, wistfully. Her middle finger casually fell between her teeth and she closed her lips upon it. He started and seemed to have been captured by an unusual cheerfulness. He slightly clapped his hands. 'Oh no! I've said something' he smiled with satisfaction 'Just between her "Farewell" and her definitive departure, I've said one meaningful sage thing. I've said "What ?" ' his smile grew wider ' Well, it's not great but it'll probably be the last word in my life ' his excitement sadly lowered ' I went to a shrink for...about six months, I think ' he frowned ' well, at least he had helped me in stopping smoking...but my voice never came back, my sister told me that I gave up too soon but ,y'see, she's been under analysis from at least five years, the only thing they have found out is that for some unclear reasons she had been incredibly shocked that day of June she was five and had left something more organic than water on my Aunt's new Persian carpet, and in the end the only solution they have found has been to get married so that muy sister has a free shrink seven days a week and he has something more than a neurotic girl twice a week. They call it 'transfert', right? Well, I never felt it. I mean, I do not hate my shrink. But fall in love with him...well, if this's the solution, I rather prefer to be dumb and dumber for the rest of my life' he sighed ' I don't know. I believe that the real problem is that my voice betrayed me just in that moment I needed it most. Y'know, I simply stood there, _speechless_ ' he stressed the word, by increasing the sharpness of the dance ' And since that moment, I've no more said a word' he rolled his eyes, showing his nice smile ' You know, there's that thing, like French people say...' he picked one of his yellow cards and cleverly wrote upon it. L'ESPRIT D'ESCALIER 'Do you know what it means? ' She slowly shook her head, keeping her lips tightened on her fingers. He shrugged, smiling nicely. ' The spirit of stairway. It means, all the clever, witty, cruel things you would have liked to say, come up to your mind only when you're on your way out, walking down the stairs. And it's real, y'know?' She wandered, felt lost. ' Only that...' he didn't notice ' actually _she_ was the one leaving, walking down the stairs, and I _did_ stand there, dumb and unmoving. Speechless' He finally paused and took a deeper glance at her. He frowned, frozen. She was beautiful. No. She was beautiful but she was pale. She had been pale the first time he had seen her, pale swan neck, silver pendant jingling from her ear. But now, it was like all colours of her body had run away from her skin and plunged into her wide eyes, which had turned into their particular blue mood, and her burning lips. ' Are you all right? ' he asked, pretty worried. She started like for the sting of a wasp. Her left hand quickly slithered from her mouth. " Yes" she hurried to say " Yes, I am" ' Are you sure? ' he insisted, carefully. She laughed nervously, and the insane note troubled her ears too much. She stopped, confused. " Ehr...would you excuse me for a minute ?" she said, getting up. ' Sure' he did not said, not his hands were more persuaded. She tried a reassuring smile, but she failed miserably, so she just turned and walked away. She stormed into the bathroom, went into one of the stalls, slamming the ochre door wildly. It was an absurde colour for a toilet door, anyway. She leaned against it, unbreathing, twisting sensitive hands against her stomach. Finally she took a deep breath and let the silent scream burst out. She threw all this awful poisoned air out of her lungs until they started to burn and cried for pity. Then it was the moment when her dainty hands sprang up to her face, hiding it. She didn't cry, though. She was not used to. Tears, dread and mirrors and some other horrid things she could not actually recall, were meant for little girls. Something she had never been. Oh no, she was wrong again. She had been once. A little, trifling girl. She sighed across her wet palms and turned round to open the door. She abruptely found herself facing her reflection in the big, well-lit mirror wall, and walked on, feeling uncomfortable. She made water run on her middle finger, she had bit it so deeply that she could have tore it. She took heedless glance at her right, and for no seemingly reason she noticed the urinal wall. She faintly smiled, then stopped, as the whisper of a stupid innuendo crawled her spinal cord. She closed her eyes, drawing herself up. She turned right. She opened her eyes. I'm getting a headache, she briefly thought. She turned again to the mirror wall, massaging her temples. Her fingers pursued their way through her hair, pulling rebel forelocks back, twining little above the back of the neck, as she rolled up glassy eyes. She snorted. She did not waste a second more of her lifetime in exclaiming her best polished "Damnit". " Fuck!" she hissed, instead. " Fuck!" she hissed again, striking high stiletto heels on the floor " Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" She sighed and walked to the exit door. When the grizzled haired man came in and doubtful stared at her, she did her best to suddenly disappear, but she found it more difficult that she'd thought, with her beatiful wide eyes and bright purple lips. She bit them, trying to hide them, and narrowed eyes, but it was useless. She bowed them elsewhere, raised left hand to her forehead and bit her lips deeper, but her glance fell on her turtle jacket and the pure paleness of her breast bone, minorly scratched by tiny barely visible rose scars, and the silky navy petticoat, edged with laces, which rustled around her body as she shifted her weight on her left flank in order to get a better view over her thoughtline. The man jerkily opened his mouth. " No" she cut him off, raising her hand " Say nothing, please. I know. I know " she nodded, deeply thinking " It's only that..." she gazed at him more directly, her voice faded and she felt the clear urge to bit her left thumb. She took it inglorously between her white teeth and purple lips, looked like a little child, caught with fingers plunged in strawberry jam "...it's a big change for me, y'know...and I've still to get used to it " He stared at her in mild confusion. She shrugged,a bit annoyed, waved her hand like for dismissing a boring flee and stormed out the bathroom. He drove her an uncertain smile. She sat down with a glimpse of glow over her cheeks. ' Was it something I said? ' " No" she exclaimed, shaking her head, then lowered her voice " It hasn't been anything you've said" she searched for a cigarette in her bag " I had to go to the...ehm... toilette " she said, using that French weak pseudonym, at least she found the cigarette and lit it up, with a wide smile " Uh" she blinked " would you mind if I smoke ? " He shook his head and suddenly threw away his worries with the pretence they were probably silly, after all. ' Well, it's a luck I'm the _one_dumber' She frowned. ' I mean, I am the dumb one and I've almost tell you the complete tale of my life ' She smiled wider. " I'm a good listener too " she said velvetly. He chuckled and pointed at her seriously. ' Yes. But it's your turn now. Tell me something about you' She giggled gingerly. " Something 'bout me " she mused " Let me think..." For quite a moment, she sat in quiet bewilderment and meditation. Then she opened her mouth to say something sounding like this " For example, I do not like meddler people", one of her best phrases if she remembered well, instead this mischivious odd smile creeped once again to her burning lips and, amused, played upon them in aniticipation, so that she suddenly found out that he had forgotten what she was menat to say and curled beautiful ( yes darling, beautiful, not (beautiful) and you know) lips within this beautiful smile for about the third time (of) in (your) her life and said " Once I wanted to be the wind" Part (2) WALTZING BACK that is TIME OF YOUR LIFE " She always wondered if someone had loved her the day she was born" Jon Carp " I walked into your dream I've forgotten how to dream my own dream" Tori Amos " I'm free to decide I'm free to decide And I'm not so suicide then, after all" The Cranberries " Bitter, bitter was the Pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the Tomb " Oscar Wilde And she ran. In shorts and small top, she ran. That was the thing she remembered most clearly, the wildest truth beneath her strong longest legs, drawn at each flashing step on the sand, erased, past by the sea, moment next. She ran fast. Speed. And strenght. And power, maybe. These were quite clear too. There were few details she truly remembered about her past, few shots in focus. Not that she actually minded. Not that she actually cared. Part, a large extent of her memories were sand-bathing somewhere underneath her soul's river, in the depth of that unsound swamp someone calls Unconscious, and, as far as she was concerned, they could easily stay where they were, filled up with sand, properly buried by the skinny arms of conscience. But her conscience, which, after all, was a little whore, sometimes left the graveyard's gate half open, so that draights and stenches rose morbid and deforming like scabies' blesters on skin. And so she ran. She was running at high speed along the shoreline but speed had not been a gift to her. Not certainly a gift from birthood. It was something she had hardly conquered through her childhood. Yes, it had been the last gift from childhood. There had been that time in her life when she had left childhood behind, bringing only speed within herself. The wind shoved back her speed to grow. A long long time ago. How long? She remembered well. No one could have ever denied that she was her parents' daughter. Not only because of physical appearence, though it was clear that she would grow in her mother's shapes and shade. She was a quiet, sensitive child, and a gifted child too. >From her parents she had inherited a substantial number of skills and natural talents she had developed in her own private way. She had her father's sharp, elusive cleverness, and her mother's talent for any kind of art. She was still a child with soft short sandy tails when she casually listened to the 'Emperor' piano concerto, running in their music room hi-fi player, and got so fashinated by it that she simply sat down at the ancient grand piano , the one having ivory gryphon feet, put fingers upon ivory and ebony keys and reproduced the cascades of notes with the faint, limpid accuracy of her tiny hands. Her fingers were too small to get just all the notes, but they'd grow. She would grow. At this thought, the familiar, sudden tide of jow gracefully peeped into her heart and she smiled, deeply concentrating to music's memory and strings' proud response. And she was so merged with it that she was not able to notice the nerveless ghast of her mother standing in the dusk of the landing, resting a pale twisted hand over the banister, a warm fay of sunlight laid upon it and kissed it, and her body quivered, and was swallowed by shadows again. And in the secret gloomy protectiveness of her room, her mother cried. Tears of pain. Tears of bitterness. She was lucky for not wearing one of those braids, like Myra, who was in her Math class, for example. If she had worn a long sandy braid, tied at the end with a scarlet velvet ribbon, just like Myra actually did, they would have grabbed it and twisted it fiercely, until the nape of her neck had been torn apart cruelly, until they had made sure that she would remember. And she would remember. But she did not wear any braid. Thus they grabbed her left forearm,_he_ grabbed her left forearm and fiercely squeezed it with his moist hands (yes, you're lucky, darling) twisted it, showing a hundred of cute new bending angles for her joints. (so lucky darling) She gave a shrill cry. They laughed around her, in merry excitement. The girl with long dirty hair spitted some smoke in her face and gave up a rusty sneer. Smoke was acid and venomous, scorched her windpipe. The elder girl was wearing an over-sized shirt, yellow big ex-eye daisies upon a black background, her hair was about of two colours, carrot stripes on a rat's coat background, but none of these stroke Haruka as much as the girl's eyes. There was something wildly wrong with them. They were wide and grey, but her pupils were like pinhead, a goblin's eyes into hers, oil tiny drops. Haruka wriggled like a weasel, her forearm released itself from the grasp, easier than she could have imagined. Her feet skidded on dry sand. So she ran, sure, but in slow-motion. Like into a dream her mind wandered impatiently. Or a bad memory, borders out of focus, only center of the scenery was distinct and neat. Her arms did not move coordinately with her legs, but in their own awkward, incoherent way. The wind slapped her on the left making her scatter, lifting her up, wrenching a short cry from her throat, as it let her go again. She gasped like a dumb fish. Waves friendly ruffled around her ankles. The sea. My only friend. She sucked in the chill of evening's heart, and plunged slender legs in restless water, hobbled through shallow waves, longing for consolation. Pitiable choice. Foolishness. One of the six, she couldn't swear but she believed it was the guy with greasy hair, carelessly smashed her on her back, and spewed a crude laughter. She fell headlong, tasted salty water, her chequered dress soaked, she mucked about, coughing and working to reach equilibrium. A heavy hand reached the back of her head, instead, and shoved her down again. She cried out with surprise as her face merged into the sea again, her mouth got filled with water and sand and she choked sobs and pathetic, useless babblings against the low depht. She franticly struggled, her feet kickling to nothing. The hand, a right one, considering the pressure of the thumb over her left ear, squeezed her head stronger, feverishly. A bony knee pressed over her left kidney, jamming her chest's convulsion. Then, braid or no braid, he grabbed short soaked sandy hair and pull them away, forcing her head back. She would have breathed but the quick strike of her neck tendons cut her off, and she coughed a gurgling muddle of sand, salt and water, with some kind of scraped voice in the thin middle. Sand got into her eyes like gravels thrown up against a window, a vindicative force gathered round her and she should not shake herself free with the mere effort of mind to get awake soon. Thus she was dropped down again, and again and again. Until, suddenly, he stopped. She did not raise herself up. She just lifted her head out of waves, vomiting salt and sand and water, coughing, kind of sobbing. Her heart dangled, worn out by exhaustion. She was not able to rise on her feet, but she sat down on them, feeling the breaking of the waves against her waist, her miserable body shattering too, with grief. Unwillingly she raise her left , tortured hand up to her mouth and pressed fingers upon shivering lips, she closed her teeth on her middle finger as loveless sobs started shaking her thoat, shoulders, wasting her waist and chest. The world became grey and spotted and few forms moved in fron of her. Fourteen pairs of legs, but she did not count them, anyway. Nor she did care about their ridicuous yellings against the cold late summer sky. The babbling of the waves against her lap was not much more interesting and suddenly, she felt exhausted and wished to sleep. Her eyes slowly closed and two perfect pearly tears rolled down her cheeks as her back muscles quietly relaxed and got ready to lay down into the sea. A rude grasp roused her from her silent sloth. Her brother bent down to her and grabbed without much affectation her arm, little under her armpit, pulling her up. His grasp was tight and unkind, and hurt her. Her mouth, freed from biting her middle finger rushed out with a scream. " No no no no no it hurts it hurts no " she childishly moaned. He ignored her, though, kept dragging her on. Dragging her home, through the sand warm for twilight. She stumbled at every step. " Let me go let me go please no no please let...ahi..let...let let let leave me alone, alone...please " she babbled, her voice like fading. The sea behind her groaned and roared in disappointment, but crashed against heavy rocks. She scattered as she sharply bumped into stairs which wound through the rocks, to their big home-by-the-sea. She fell on her knees, trashing about, her left arm fiercely stretched and muscles frayed. She tried to scream higher, and wilder, wriggle away, but all she could do was follow him, scratching both knees and one hand, hurting several joints and sections of her body. He did not give her up. He came into the kitchen by the back door, turned eventually around, heaved the wet ruffled puppy on the shelf, between the white sink and the cooking range. She gave a sudden, frightened start as he grasped the nape of her head tightly and his serious dead eyes came closer to her face. He squeezed it, and she feebly moaned, closing her eyes, sobbing miserably. His finger got stuck in her left cheek. "Listen to me, little girl. Listen to me _carefully_. Don't ever show up your face again round here, since now, and they'll leave you in peace,'kay? " She disclosed wide confused deep green eyes. Bloodshot for sand. " But..." " No. Bo 'but' here. I know these guys" he shrugged slightly" they are my _friends_ understand ?" his fingers closed through her wet hair and her stomach wobbled " you'll never show up again near here, expecially when you know they are around, they won't hurt you " he bowed his head lightly, without any particular interest " if not...so much the worse for you" He's kidding. He's joking. Making fun of me. ( see him laugh, darling? ) She could read in the corners of his mouth that he was true. " But... I do_live_there !" she exclaimed,eventually, bewildered. Generous tears filled her gloomy eyes and she broke out the unconsoled resolutory weeping. He released the grasp from the nape of her neck and she gasped for pain and fear as he grabbed her thin shoulders, sinking his fingers in her flesh like a hawk's claws and his indifferent breath overpowered back her livid lips. " Stop it, Haruka, stop it !" he hissed with blank rage, shaking her weak shoulders, jolting her neck, making her head repeatedly bang to the kitchen cupboard " STOP IT, Haruka, stop whimpering like a little child" and as she did not stop scattering her fearful tears he rose up his voice in order to make his scolding sharper " STOP IT, STOP WHINIG LIKE A FUCKING CHILD, Haruka, you have to GROW, Haruka, have to STOP THIS, STOP IT..." Most incredibly surprising, she turned against him and yelled him back, her attack snapping his aphonic tune. " BUT I _AM_ A CHILD!! I _ AM_ A _ CHILD_ !!" He stopped. He scanned his passive mind for an adequate responsive move. The kitchen door flung open and their father's oblong shade fell on the floor. " Haruka!! Stop screaming !! Your mother's got a headache!!" he shouted, face twitched with anger and the something else which was becoming the familiar background for every emotion of his, and was not dissimilar from sorrow. " But..." He waved his hand, cutting her off. " And_stop_ pestering your brother " he added harshly. " But..." He turned, frowning at the shivering, soaked, chirping from his daughter. " Oh!" he exclaimed , rolling his eyes" Haruka...! What have you _DONE_ ?! Look! What's that MESS on the floor,huh, girl?" " But..." " Now you get some rags..." " But..." " and you WON'T have your dinner until " " But..." "everything here will be clean and bright like a MIRROR, okay,you little pest ? " " But..." " No. No' but' here. And you " he pointed toward her brother with the most authority he could reach " go up and have your homeworks finished " He stormed out. Her brother blankly gazed at her. " Don't show you up around here again, okay, little girl ? I don't want to lose my friends because of my freakish sister" he smacked her again on her cheek and went away. He sat for what could have been hours but were some minutes, in the exactly same position he had left her, head turned away, right hand over reddened wet cheek, out of her breath. Finally she swallowed and twisted her head to her correct position, as a sapient segmentation of tremors ran from the bottom of her gut up their way to her throat and, choking with sobs, overcome by this delirium of words and insane flavours, her face collapsed into her hands' nest, and she cried. She threw the last rag into the trash can and wearily went out the window. Wind blashfully ran its fingertips through her hair, trying to unravel sand's grains from sandy short locks. The sea fondly roared from the vanishing horizon and ran its whirling waves towards her. She grimaced, her legs suddenly bent and she crumbled on the porch's floor, and she hugged her knees. " Yeah. You'd better have supported me when I most needed that, friend" she muttered " You could have lost your occasion to save my life" The waves shivered, mortified, and crashed to the rocks. She sighed. " Never mind. I forgive you " The crescent moon's grin hung from the sky's rooftop like a yellow slice of cheese. Her glance skimmed with not much interest along the rank of dark bruises shapelessly crawling throiugh her lesg and arms, spoiling pure pale skin, and she could imagine what she'd find later on when she'd get a hot bath before going to bed. Why. This single word, tingling in few various tunes, represented her simplest and actual thought of the day, the faint useless quaestion still pounding within her strained brain, ( because you're lucky, darling) since they had found her quickly wandering along the shoreline, like she was used to do. Like she had done practically since she had learnt motion. That was her potsherd of beach, anyway. Why should they ever choose just it? Across about 20 miles of clean, peaceful sea-shore, had they not found better place than this gracious glimpse round 'bout her home? Why ( how many times ) should they ever choose just ( do I ever be compelled to repeat ) it (it?) ? Why ( You're luuuuucky, darling shoule they ever choose just _her_ ( _lucky_, understand?) ? She was a rather insignificant girl. She wasn't any special. She was some kind of wren which no one ever noticed when she walked silently out the chool for little geniuses she attended to since she was four. So why. ( I, m getting little scared about your self intelligence, darling) She was not more than an insects standing on a wall. Not beautiful, not ugly. Not venomous, not even injurious. An inoffensive splinter from the planet. Close to nothing. Certainly nothing of none's business. A tiny ant. Though she rememberd she had killed bugs of that kind, sometimes. Why? For no apparent reason, most times, she imagined. She did not love them, she did not hate them. They were not useful, nor dangerous. Useless, they were close to be. She probably had killed them because of indifference. A mere lack of concerrn. She found herself restraining a bitter little teer. So here they were. Just because there were no reeasons wheter to do it or not. They would kill her just because of a 'lack of concern'. Sometimes even being insignificant doesn't save your life. Sad, very sad. No, wait. It was not just that it _ought_ to happen. Just in case she's ever have shown up again round there, about_her_ home, _her_ beach, _her_whatever else. No. This is ridiculous. This is laughable. ( hear me laugh, darling? ) She frowned. The glorious answer was another and she knew. He has brought them here. My trusted brother. Damn him. He does not love me. He does not hate me. Why. Do I arouse nothing but indifference in anyone in the world ? But I'm wrong. To say that my parents did not love me, would sound grotesque, and, all considered, would be a lie. They should feel something to me, has it not been because I'm their daughter. Oh maybe not actual love, but close. And_something_ is better than a lack of concern, after all. Father. She knew he should feel something to her, and knew that such a feeling might be so close to love, though he had not enough time and strenght to show her how much he cared. But he should love her, for once her mother had told her that it had been just him to want HER. He had longed for a DAUGHTER so long, a quiet girl to watch over him. And he should have wished for her to come so much, as her mother would have never faced a second pregnancy which could have, and had had, in facts, almost killed her, overcoming her weak body. She had told her the tale about her painful birth, tuning her voice in a mood not close to scolding nor to sweet deep melancholy, a neutral mood, instead, one she could easily bear. She should have really loved her husband to conceive this gift of a female to him, a gift which had probably quickened the decay of her body, and it had probably been the last gleam of love she had spread to anyone. Mother. Both love and hate were just too intense, intrusive feelings for her to bear. The day she would grant someone with one of there would probably be the last of her life. By the age of twenty-two, her daity sensitive hands, used to her grand piano's ivories, had become stiff and like frozen by their own cold perfection, twisted like panthera's claws. No one had been able to stall the wicked arthosis consuming her joints. Still she was beautiful. Her bones folded into impossible positions and the meagre flesh miserably wrapping them revealed more than their wrong shapes. Though, she sparkled by a cold pure ghastly splendour, in her long silky gowns, she wandered through their nbig house like a magnificient marble goddess, soft blonde waves falling on her shoulders. And in the end, that would she be, anything but a perfect, empty shell. And it was enough for everyone. And enough for her small daughter. Who could not forgive her brother's indifference, though. She would have liked it better if he had hated her. She hugged her knees tighter, softly rocking back and forth. The cold of the night bit her close and she heard the slow squeak of Her coming. She sniffed and buried her face against the smooth skin, waiting. Ophelia took a shaking glance outside and came closer. As years went by, her eyes had acquired a dull indigo shade, a silky azure veil coated her retinae, her sight was not very much more than a blur, a few grey shadows' zones with some kind of tattered light. It was enough, though. Her nose had cherished its skills, and she could still feel the soft pulse which was given out by living creatures, the aura quivering with scents they emitted. Just like now she felt it right before herself, out from the affected light of the humans, into the dim light of the moon,and beyond thetaste of the sand and the sea, and beyond the subtle smell of perspiration and, more, beyond flavours from the just taken meal, and the intense, but too which her nostrils had got accustomed, smell of the sandal wood burning in the cender, beyond all these , the obcure still undeniable scent of sadness and solitude. She could easily recognize it for it was not obviously the first time she bumped into it in her long life, and she could understand the being was human, but she could have not identified more precisely the person carrying it, had not there been anything else. There was, instead. The distinctive scent her trained nostrils had learnt to recognize and love. Soap. That was the fregrance. And feel it merged with sadness and loneliness, wickedly played with wounds within her strong heart. The first time she had seen the baby peacefully sleeping in her cradle, her first thought had been ' You've been made for me' and she would have liked to have arms and hands good to hold her and her and clasp her to her breasts and run away, far away from home, and _have_ her forever. She had taught her to walk, grasping gently her sweater's neck, and raised her, leading her unexperienced legs on. But the day before their first lesson about running a reckless car had broken off every links between her chest and hind legs, since then she had been compelled to drag herself along by a though sophisticated, rickety vehicle, two wheels and thight thongs, miserable substitutes for the masterpiece of strenght and accuracy her leg's machinery had been. She crawled cautiously to the scent source, lowered her wet nose and placidly licked the girl's ear. She lifted her head up and fondly looked at the old Alsatian. Ophelia had been an imposing dog and she still was, despite her age and infirmity. The old dog which she had grown with, was still bigger and stronger than her. She evoked the time when she walked clinging to her tail and she gazed at the intrepid already sprinkled in white muzzle which was looking further, against the stillness of the night. She sighed and stretched her legs on the rough floor. She did not actually look at the bruises getting darker and bluer over pale skin and grimaced. " I'd wish these logs were longer " she mused softly " y'know...sometimes I'd love to be like the wind, and fly away, light and free " she narrowed her eyes, threw the sweet fancy through thin air, let it waltz around, smiled. Ophelia's grey muzzle slightly puffed and she moved forepaws on the ground, searching for a better position. Haruka came to, quickly. She smiled and clasped the old dog's neck with the whole lenght of her own arms, buried her face intop her bristly coat. " But I would never leave you, dear friend " she whispered " cause I love you" Ophelia howled. And she loves me, too. Oh, she loves me, Haruka thought, falling asleep. Suddenly, her jaw's connections dropped unlocked, and the withered air was drawn down into her throat, her head precipitously pulled back, as pain wildly stroke her, without any warning. She clutched her bed's covers, trying to catch again her breath and slow it down, finding it surprisingly, unexpectedly hard. She flopped on her bed, hopeless, closing eyes, choking high cries of pain which could have taken easy flight out of her barren frozen throat. She buried her face into the coarse blanket and crawled like a twitched worm from the earth. Pain throbbed at the bottom of herself, probing her last bowels, radiating like a glorious sun through her abdomen, spreading like sunflower's petals. She softly sobbed as she rolled on her right side and moved her hands to clasp her lap. Something smashed within herself and,with the sudden blow of a nutshell, pain faded away. She slowly pulled her head away and breathed deeply. Her hands twisted into terrific claws and clutched young purest flesh through pyjamas. A subtle moan slipped through her lips and she clasped her pillow, folded arms around it, hugging it as tight as she could. Pain . Sweet gift for her girlhood. Dysmenorrea. A Greck word. Dys- difficulty. Mèn- monthly. Rhéin- flow, pour. Monthly difficulty in pouring. Wonderful, meaningful word it was. Resounding, even reassuring sometimes. Still it meant not much more than the monthly putrefaction of the least useful part of her body and the pain it carried. Disfunction of her moody body. Some sandy tousled locks curled upon her forehead and heated cheeks. Though she did not realize she was crying, softly and blashfully. The world of her room slowed its swinging round and round. Wirk by the Whoever'sUpThere. Or Whoever had decided she should be a woman. Call it Fate, if you want. A twist of Fate. Freak of Nature. Something, someone who stays wherever and terribly laughed. Not that she did not actually want to be a woman. Nor that she did actually want to be a male, obviously. Men, they were no less disgusting than females. Not that she did want to be just anyhing well-defined, telling the truth. It was the mere fact that someone had decided in the place of herself, and she had been not given of any chance to express her opinion. No one had ever asked her " Ten'ou Haruka, do you want to be an actual woman, yes or not ? " Most likely she would have answered with her quiet responsible and already sinuous voice, " Couldn't I be like like I am now ? Perhaps longer legs...yes, an overgifted girl, with long legs" She had believed she was free to decide. Until the sad day when she discovered that everything had been settled (long long time ago) long time before, deeply rooted in her genetic code, the day pain had stroken her first tune with that idiotic meannes of its. About early eleven she was. Precocious (lucky darling lucky) girl, she was. On the other hand, there were no reasons for her to have this painful burial banquet just every month of her doomed existence. Even without considering the blatlant fact that she could have been a woman with ot without it, still it was more and more useless as the _least_ thing she could wish was to get pregnant and have children. She didn't want it nor them, so why shouldn't they spare her from this monthly pure agony ( you don't listen to me when I talk, right? ). That way, instead, was the one which made the difference between males and her, the one which would mean that they would scent her, from this moment on, and follow the putrid, still so attractive, smell, they, clever bloodhounds, would enjoy to lift up her skirts and see what she was hiding, underneath ( y'see, you're lucky darling). The world into her room abruptely swirled and she clutched the pillow stronger as pain swiped again, irresistibly, the old loyal sore, and quickly stormed within her stomach. She bit the pillow in order to choke screams which were pressing her wounded arid lips, bats furious with rabies. She tossed and turned about her bed, bending her knees to her chest. The pillow in light pink lining fell freed from her teeth and some spittled roped down her lips shaking with a sort of insane fever as she finally screamed out pain. It was not an actual, loud, powerful scream, though. It was a mournful, ashamed moan, jerking with sobs and already dried, bitter tears. Again, as sudden and almost unreal, as it came, pain moved away and she flopped down, breathing against wet pillow. She sniffed, just before a quick garland of sobs fluttered within her throat. Her sight blurred for seven seconds more, then smoothly focused again the wall-paper decorated with roses' red blossoms, and the creamy wooden door. She cautiously let one of her legs glide down, beyond the bed's edge and warily sat up, bewaring of any twinkle of pain beneath her gut. It lurched once, but nothing more. She quivered a long sigh and gingerly wiped her eyes, looking around as to make herself sure that no one had witnessed that pitiful behaviour of hers. Capillaries at the top of her cheeks strained, stinging like a waltz of pins. Dolls dressed with lace, the Original London Teddy Bear, the smart pink ballerina and books over the dark wall upright piano, Chagall's newly weds and many coloured, floating hearts, four pelouche bunnies peeping from their turquoise box, Hughes' Ophelia adn Degas' light dancers,, the salty smell of the sea from the half-closed window, the Lyberty lamp and ogling anemones in the bronze vase,and Norma Jean, who had stopped painting her lips with thin marten brush, and was stairng at her from the wall with scary big blue eyes. Everyone stared at her. She bit her lips, blushing slightly. She put her left feet down on the carpet and got up. Her head wandered about, played around with shadows, and everything in her upper body still hurt with a lulled dull ache. She cautiously stretched her sore back, and put both her thumbs besides lumbar spinal cord and slightly squeezed, massaging in smal circles. She walked to the door and clasped the handle as her eyes roved upon the elegant black letters written on a papyrus-like paper. They said " Every morning, in Africa, a lion wakes up, He knows that he has to run faster than The gazelle, if he wishes to survive the day. Every morning, in Africa, a gazelle wakes up She knows that she has to run faster than The lion, if she wishes to survive the day. Every morning, when you wake up, Don't wonder wheter if you are lion or gazelle. Just Run " A kind of smile burnt upon her lips as she opened the door and passed over. She walked silently through the plain corridor, letting her hand skim along the railing. Turning right to the bathroom, she grimaced. Her father was loudly arguing in his study again, with her brother, most probably. This kind of arguments had become both more frequent and intense in the past few months, but her brother had always been what could be called a "difficult guy". Bad thoughts, bad companies, and bad addictions, eventually. Something likely glass-made broke. Ophelia barked once. The note in Ophelia's voice made her pale skin crease. She rose on the tips of her toes and wondered at how she could easily reach the small brownish bottle in the cabinet. She took one vaguely egg-shaped white tablet and considered wheter it would be enough. She shrugged nervously and walked out the bathroom. Noises from the study were still banging toward the closed door. They made her scatter and she seized the smooth railing again. She passed in front of her mother's room's closed door. She did not remember of having seen it open, anyway. She heard the subdued soft sound of her weeping. Something not exactly glass-made had broken inside her, too. Ophelia barked again. Haruka turned right again and took the first step down the stairway. She was lucky ( oh yeeeeessss) of having grasping ( ssssooooo luuuuuckyyyy) the banister, for the apin shrp arrow ran through her body, stealing the twinkle from her eyes, and she ( daaaaaarliiing) slipped down, the stair steps. She clutched her fingers on the wood and held the scram, tightening her jaw and teets, her eyes too. Her forehead leant against the banister and she breathed again, though her twisted position above the steps' rounded corners, as pain vanished again. She took a faint glance under her left arm, at her legs. They looked longer but it probably was just a matter of perspective. She bitterly grinned. It was no matter of perspective, instead, the _fact_ that she would have brand new amazing collection of bruises along pale skin. just where the past ones ahd been getting pale yellow by now. There should seemingly be something wrong between her and stairs, those days. She eventually got up and to the kitchen, scattering like a drunk. She let water pour into the glass and watched at the tablet crumble and frizzle into it. She lifted her head up, narrowing her eyes, listening to the quick, sharp noise coming from upstairs. This, or the light bend of her neck, disturbed her, and made her feel sick. She took a first sip of the magic potion. She felt the blow within her tiny womb before even into her ear drums. It echoed throughout her body. Her womb was squeezed like a rotten fruit in death throes, melting filthly juice and seeds. The glass slipped down from her twitched hands and smashed in pieces at her feet as her head was violently drawn back and she screamed a hollow scream. Her knees suddenly, irresponsibly bent down and she clutched the border of the table, falling down. She rocked back and forth, pleading for shelter, or at least, sweet oblivion. Pain burnt strong, and vanished, leaving wicker grapes in her throat and lungs. The second blow, she heard clearly. It knocked down the morbid echo of her scappy voice. Silence floated around, vaguely annoyed by few light dubious, or torpid, steps. And the scream of another, shrill, heartrening. Immediately, Haruka stood up and ran. To its source. She arrived upstairs out of her breath, senses tense. Her mother was standing against her father's sytudy's doorpost, a whitered sylph wrapped in white silk. She passed over her, and stopped. Her sight moved slowly on her right, where, little hidden by the heavy desk, her brother laid into a puddle of , limpid and dark, blood, few sheets of typed papers were peacefully settled in the muddle, the gun was lying besides the overturned chair, like a sardonic smile. Her father hung from the ceiling's girders, eyes out of correct position, still managing with the dance (walts darling don't you see time) macabre ( it's three-four, see?, waltz). Still, nothing of these captured her attention more than the vigorous rag which had been Ophelia, lying on her right flank, dead. Haruka ran to her, her father's dancing feet skimmed her hair, she kneeled down and cried out, hugging the old dog. Still warm, she was. A second, unnatural pair of lips had been drawn i her neck, scarlet and bleeding, her pink tongue vainly hung between her yellowed teeth, one of her indigo misted eyes still stared at the ceiling with some kind of astonished feeling. The beautiful strong muzzle laid in her own blood. Haruka hugged her and cried, disarmed. She couldn't conceive any reason woth enough the death of the old tough warrior Ophelia had been. Why the hell didn't she derserve to die by natural death? She knew she would understand everything had happened that evening but not this. She couldn't understand. She couldn't forgive. She couldn't forget. " You" shivering fleeble hiss through her back. " You " harsh stammering voice " You" Haruka raised her head and followed the voice's echo beyond her own ear drums. " You...it's your fault " Her mother. Her mother was quivering, as usual, and her skinny twisted fingers where pointing at her, her beautiful heavenly face wrenched in an unusual pose,though. " It's all_your_ faul" her voice raised up as it had never done before and her body franticly shook, but she stood up anyway. Haruka got up, leaving Ophelia's warmth, and gingerly looked around, and at her mother's fiery ghost. She was not sure, could not bet 'bout it, but _hatred_, it was. Pure, pale, perfected hatred, painted upon her mother's face. " It's _YOUR_ fault! " she spitted, more and more persuaded. Haruka scattered slowly toward her, moving with the bewildered puppy's circumspection, or the old panthera's calm, swarming around her prey. " I see you, you know? I look at you everyday and see what you'll become like. Tall, cold, beautiful, diaphanous, precious pale skin. Precious creature. Cold tower of ivory beauty. Just like me, still something more. You know (you're beautiful, don't you, darling?) what it is?" she lifted her chin , clutching her teeth " Strenght. Sure. Never had strenght. Sure, you've always been 'something more' than me. Yes, you're meant to be the Supreme Being, the Prefect embodiement for all the divine virginal perfection of the world. I've never been perfect though. Only weak. 'lways something awfully _laaacking_. 'lways _close_ to, but never actually_be_. Corrupted, incomplete" she looked outside the window, vaguely disgusted " You, instead, _you_ 've always been strong, instead, and you...do...don't know how how difficult it is for parents to grow a child who exceeds them in _everything. You've _stolen_ everything I believed I had cherished my weakness avoided me from doing most the thing I'd longed for, still I had believed that I could find something which would be_mine_ and only mine, forever... everything you have and or do better ...look at your brother, instead" her voice broke in commotion " yes yes look he he was a good good son he was weak and had faults and made mistakes just like ANYONE! Why can't you be just like ANYONE! Talented but not THAT much! You don' t know know how frustrating is to know that you, mother, father, don't have anything left to teach to your children. Your brother, instead..." she wandered, and breathed, her eyes widened as she stared at her with rage " IT'S YOUR FAULT HE'S DEAD YOUR FAULT, UNDERSTAND ? You you you you you " she blew into sobs and covered her face with the freaks of her twisted hands, recovered quickly " because you've pointed out that enormous failure, theirs, mine...you're the living monument, the magnificient celebration of our failure in everything...of my failure, as pianist, as lover, as wife, as mother, as _everything_" Haruka stood in front of her, a benumbed blade of gilden sun ran through the right side of her face, setting her right eye on fire. " Stop it now " Haruka said, soft thoughtful voice, she frowned slightly " I am only a child and things you're saying I don't understand. Shut up" With one careful motion of her left arm she raised the hot gun and fired once. The bullet flew perfectly into the middle of her forehead and her mother fell back against the desk, and on the floor, waving her silky veils. Oh. I think I'm going to throw up. Yeap. I'm gonna throw up. She stormed into the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. Pain wasn't there anymore, though. But this is not what did happen. as a pianist, as lover, as wife, as mother, as _everything_ " Haruka stood in front of her, a benumbed blade of gilden sun ran through the right side of her face, setting her right eye on fire. " Stop it now " Haruka said, soft thoughtful voice, she frowned slightly " I am only a child and things you're saying I don't understand. Shut up" With one carefully motion of her left arm her mother raised the hot gun and, giving a last cruel grin, she fired once. The bullet pierced into her skull and she fell back against the desk, and on the floor, waving her silky veils. Oh. I think I'm going to throw up. Yeap. I'm gonna throw up. She stormed into the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. And pain wasn't there anymore, though. Twenty eight days past the funeral. Roses' scent was still in the air. The sea was storming against the dull grey sky, supported by the wind. She stared at the whirls of dark gulls above, arms folded against her chest. The wind played with her short sandy hair, giggling. Maybe I still have a chance. Maybe I am still free, after all. Maybe she was true. Maybe I'm strong. Maybe. She was so lost in these sibylline thought line that she didn't notice them coming, and when she did it was, of course, too late. He grasped her, folding one arm around her neck, the other pulling and bending her own arm back, lifting her up. She gave out a screamed, but it was rapidly wolfed down by the thundering storm. The guy with greasy hair was standing before her, an indecent grin upon his mouth. He got close to her and skimmed her pure skin with dirty nails, then clasped her groin. Her eyes widened fast and blood rolled and ran in her veins, and her screams burst out with dread and rage and rage and dread. He grinded his teeth and his disgusting breath stuck into her nostrils. "Close your_fucking_ mouth , girl !" he hissed. She obeyed. She closed her delightful jaws and strongly clentched them on his big nose. ( oooooh this is definitely not _heeeealty_ daaaarling) She ignored the muttering voice within her brain, just as she ignored the guy's squealing, and tightened her cluntch, pulling back. She quickly raised up her legs and strongly pushed her feet right under his rib's edges, thrusting her toes onto his stomach and liver. He waved his hands' about her face and neck. In substance, he was trying to push her back, while she was pulling his nose back too. And, on the other hand, the other guy was trying to pull her back, while she was pushing the one with greasy hair back. A jungle's confusion, storm's noises whirling around. She kicked wildly as the other guy's arm tightened her neck, cutting her breath in. She closed her eyes and concentrated all her strenght within her ankles, and, with a quick twist of her muscles she threw a schrew mighty hit from her feet to his groin. He heavily fell back on the ground. They all did. She fell down on the other guy, who hit his head against the rock and laid still, presumibly inconscious. The guy with greasy hair was awkwardly rocking on his back, squealing, desperately holding a pair of useless testicles in his hands. His chewed face had a muddle of blood in the middle, the rests of his nose were clearly shown in the dim winter evening's light. Between the scraps of flesh, a thin piece of cartilage rose up like a tiny obelisk. She spitted the rest of flesh and blood onto his face. She was free. She was strong. And she ran. She ran and closed her eyes and prayed the wind to carry her. Yes, take me away from here. Take me away take me away take me away take me away take me away take me away take me away take ne away. Far too away, she stumbled and fell down on her knees, panting. A thread of silent liquid dropped along the inner part of her thigh. She looked at it, and cautiously skimmed it. Blood it was. It was not theirs. It was hers. She dried it, and the drop glided again along her pale thigh. She softly, carefully rubbed it between fingertips. It didnt' hurt. She stood up and thoughtlessly walked away. Heedlessy, she raised her hand to her forehead, drawing quick absent minded marks. A circle little up eyebrows and sort of a trident in red. No, it didn't hurt. But it glowed. It glowed proudly. Magnificient, it was. Magnificient, she was. And she ran faster. In shorts and small top, deep within the warmth of October twilight. She didn't need anything else. Cars and motor cycles did not mean 'speed' for her. They were accuracy, calculation, test for the sharpness of her senses, a mere eveidence of her mind's infallibility. Not much more than leather and sheet metals and oil. The wind darted about her and passed over. Riding a horse, it was something closer to speed. At least she did not ride those ridiculous metalic appendices, as dead as skeletons in ossuaries. There was a powerfully alive creature between the strong clasp of her thighs, a breathing, beating, pulsing being. And as wind swirled about her, it was very close to carry her, and she could freely trust it, past thinking. Still, they gave her more power and strenght's feelings than actual speed. Still something was missing. Which was one too many, anyway. She had drowned her past deeply into the marsh of Not- Memory, but it always floated up again. No matter how much she tried, they always came back. She could throw memories out the flashing clr's windows, let the wind sweep them away through her helmet's creaks, but in the end she always ran. She challenged both life and death through speed, because waltzing with Death was so much better than waltzing back with memories. She relied completely to her longest legs and she ran. She ran into the wind loud scream, skimming its deadly high speed. Sand's grain faint tickled under her feet. She could see her heart leaping with grace, pounding in whirls, as fast as her legs, pumping against, or within, the grey uneven wall, more scarlet than October westerns sky, her heart beated navy and strong, blood sprinkled and burst out the cut off vessels, and fireworks, sunny yellow , emerald green, ruby red, sky (hair) like turquoise, new stars were born, old constellations blew up with glee, bove all these, the bony fingers of the moonlight, her pounding heart hanging with invisible threads from the crescent moon's cold grin, clouds of smoke swirled upon it, tongues of fire and the swet nightingale spinning and pinning and spinning around, aroun the firece beating of her heart, and into her heart she deeply plunged, crashed herself, she hurled every joints and flesh and bones, undermining soul and mind, ripping out the breath of life. She inhales deeply, then let elusive smoke get slowly out. She raises her chin a bit during the process, slightly narrows her eyes, curls lips in a weighed seductive manner. Silky smoke whirls in spirals and arabesques round her, wraps her into a soft white cloud. It is dark there. She knows she's sitting because there's undeniably something beneath her back, and her legs can tangle. She can cross them in a masculine way, for she's wearing a pair of trousers. And a white skirt. She wonders how ever she's perfectly able to see herself, even though there's absolutely no light there. She wonders where she is. Not that she actually cares. Just matter of curiosity. Smoke faintly vanishes before her and she can take a more precise glance at what is about there. A light smile rises upon her rose lips. She perhaps understands now. The light seemingly spreads by body's own auras. And about where she is, the two figures sitting before herself suggest, or remind, her something. The one on the left, they are playing chess, lifts up the ivory tower and moves it left, then points at the other one with her bony finger. There's a subtle threat in the alignement of her phalanxes. Some lightning flashes of electricity sizzle along her skeleton hands and curl upwards, crawl along the black coat, to the rough skull, giving quick nervous glimpses of her true face, scarlet locks of burnt hair. Haruka grins softly. " Death and the Maiden " she whispers, meditatively, not actually realizing her lips are moving and air plays with the strings within her throat, so that quiet low sounds glide out of her mouth. The blonde one, the one on the right, turns her head and gazes at her, shows her electric smile. She looks like a child (but she's no more). She looks like a woman ( but she's not). A little, slender girl. Beatiful, she is. So beautiful. " Yes" she says, mellow voice, lifts up her hand on her breast " I'm Death" she waves the hand to the other " she's the Maiden" She turns away again, narrowing her enchantress eyes. " And she's the loser" she giggles" Chess -mate, dear" She bows, very politely, tapping her delightful fingers on her knee. The flashing lights quicken with fury. The blonde one frowns and grimaces, little vexed. She wides her smile, as her eyes gets cold. " Would you be so kind to go to lose your temper elsewhere, please? We'd be much more grateful " The black one disappears. The girl shrugs slightly, turns toward Haruka. " She 's not a good loser" she says and her scaring light blue eyes locks with Haruka's. She shuffles her foot nervously, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. " Are you a good looser ?" Haruka asks. The girl shrugs again, getting up. " I dunno. Never lost " she lowers her mystical sight toward her, a violet splinter glimmers inside her right eye " And you ?" Haruka shrugs, too. " I dunno. Never lost, me too " She inhales another ghast of smoke and let it out as slowly as she can. " You should not smoke " the girl says, carelessly " it's not healthy" Haruka chokes a bitter chuckle . "Oh " she says " well, if I'm lucky, I could get a cancer " The girl does not chuckle in response. " Tell Setsuna this " she says not exactly serious, looking further. Haruka raises her eyes, puzzled. " Setsuna ? What-" " She had cancer, don't you know? " she quietly cut her off " here, right up her nose, under pituitary gland" she shakes her head, mournful " Sad, very sad. But she went out the hospital, she walked home and found herself in the middle of a shooting, fell down some stairs, it started raining, she was almost run over by a car, and in the end, she drank some turquoise liquid we are not sure what it was yet, just because of a twist of fate, I imagine " she smiles softly " A twist of Fate...do you like this expression? It's my father's favourite one, y'know ? " " No" breathless Haruka says "Should it sound ironic? " " I dunno" she smiles charmingly "what do ya think? " Haruka shakes her head in order to get rid of the moths of confusion running in circles within her brain, stands up and throws the fuming cigarette likely on some floor, turns and walks away. " Hey wait! " the girls exclaims. " For what ? " she says, roughly. " I want to talk to you " Haruka grins softly, shrug her shoulders and does not turn. " For whatever reason should I talk to you ?" " Because I wa- WATCH OUT! " she cries out. Too late. Haruka smashes and whirls, pulling her head back, holding bleeding nose in the palm of her hand. The girl stands few meters aside, biting her fingertips, somehow worried. Her enchanting face flutters in a naughty limper. " There's a _wall_ there " she mourns and comes closer. Haruka badly leans against the black wall and glides down, benting her knees to her chest. She moans softly, drying few drops of blood from her nostrils. Her brain hurts, is like crying inside her skull. " There must be something wrong among me and walls, today" she mutters. " Ehr...you may be right dear" the girl says, standing before her, patiently bowing upon her, hands tied behind her back. She gives her a smile, not the electric one. The delightful one. Haruka's head hits softly to the wall and her sight blurs again to focus. A pair fo scaring light blue eyes is what she sees first, long dark eyelashes crowning them like a garland of black butterflies. With a pair of eyes like this, who needs more sky? Then soft blond locks and purple blazing lips, and the smile's shape changes again, yes, the electric smile curling them upwards,yes. She looks like a child ( but she's not). " So" she sighs " what do you want to talk me about? " The girl raises one eyebrow. " Uh, well...you're very similar to a person I know, and love" she pauses briefly, carefully " She would have liked to become the wind, too" " If ?" The girl blinks her witched eyes. " If...what?" she says, hesitant. " You've said" Haruka sighs again "she would_have_ liked to be the wind... IF...?" she waves her hand, encouraging way. " Oh" the girl tunes the note like a fervent loving bird's whistle " if _nothing... she would have liked to be the wind. Full-stop " she smiles her electric smile. Haruka wipes some blood which is gliding upon her lips. A tiny wretched hammer starts knocking happily onto the middle of her forehead. " Okay, okay...I look like your friend. Then what? " " Then I want you to do something she could never do " she says, proudly. Haruka frowns. She narrows her eyes as it could help. " This does not make much sense, y'know? " The girl bows her head, the splinter in her right eyes glimmers of a gloomy night's shade, and she smiles again. " It is not supposed to " Haruka closes her eyes and trys to avoid thinking, leaning back her head. " And what should I be supposed to do so ?" she says,exhausted. " Nothing special " she giggled " just be free. Do what you want to do, and be what you want to be, and...everything will be all right" she muses. A quick squeak. A slice of light burns out of nowhere. A vent from a door. The girl turns her head. The white muzzle of a wolf peeps into the darkness. The innatural light shines copper highlights on the girl's hair. She twists her ankle, and rests her res shoes on their external side. " Yeah, I'm comin' " she says and the white muzzle of the wolf disappears again, the door still not exactly open. She turns to Haruka, her eyes carefully scans every segment of her body. Her lips wildly curl upward and the electric smile shows up again. She raises her chin a little, bowing her head. The witching splinter in her right eye suddenly glows and burns, ferocious and grieved, and Haruka could guess the glorious insane creature lying down, lying in ambush within the girl. Her arms and knees clasp themselves together and she curls like a hopeless child. Her brain lurches and fervently moans, pleads to run away. Her heart does not agree, though. It pounds and pumps enthusiastically. And it is more reasonable, all considered. The girl's lips open and her velvet voice comes out. She's saying few words, deep tune, they wave to her like from the depht of the sea, Haruka does not actually hear them. She feels them, though. They quietly float within her own breath, not cutting it,like petals, blowing it inside again, echoing down her shivering body. They are sweet low fond beloving words. " Have time of your life, dear" she's saying. She takes a last peaceful glance at Haruka and turns away. As she walks away, her red shoes making no noise on the unexistent ground, the thin rose sickle shaped scar on the back of her neck gives a weak gleam and fades away into pale skin. Haruka sits there, past thinking, past even breathing. A bewildered, witched light dazzles her eyes, wich have turned dark blue, like mirroring the girl's ones and she's still frowning. Her forehead mymical muscles groaned in disappointment and she recovers. " Hey! Wait ! " The girl turns her head slightly, she stops, patient and silent. " Yes ?" she wanders her fingers through her blonde locks, and pulls them behind her ear. " You're Death, right ? " Haruka asks, choked voice. The girl chuckled, delightfully amused. " Oh" she waved her silky hand " don't be so formal " she bows her head gently " you can call me...just Yelena" Haruka shakes her head. " That's not what I've meant. It's..." she tries to get just a second of pure smooth smart thoughtline again "if you're Death, shouldn't I be, uh, dead ?" Yelena's eyes widen as she blinks them twice. A smile's shade paints her lips, but nothing more. She frowns a little, bewildered. " Oh" she tunes softly " no, you're not dead " now, the corners of her lips curl into her beautiful temptating smile " you're dreaming, dear " she pauses, bits her lips, enourmously amused " Wake up " She woke up, of course. End of (long) Chapter 7 Remember, liked it or not, tell me what you think. ----------------------------------------------------------- Go and visit HEAVEN'S HOME at http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/7412/index.html ----------------------------------------------------------- DISCLAIMERS GO HERE Sailor Moon's names and characters are copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha and some others I do not remember. The little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter are copyrighted too, by their respective, dead or alive, authors. Everything's used without the permission of any of them. Please, do not sue me. This story is copyrighted too, anyway, by MYSELF. You don't try to copy me, as I have not copied anyone else, okay? Thank you. LANGUAGE NOTE And, again, English is not my mother tongue, I'm SORRY for mistakes of any kind. I would not have made them, if I had written in my mother tongue, so, please, be patient. RESPONSES Responses are welcome, of course. Comments and flames go there e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com ( only if the other Mail server'd be down) THANKS TO Takeuchi Naoko, without whose involuntary contribution nothing of this would have happened Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. - JON CARP- For being himself. For writing his stories. For reading this. Thank you thank you thank you. To Alicja, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all who have read my story and be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this. To Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Aljcia, Immora, Haruka and Michiru Fanfics Page's owners , Jackie Chiang, and my insane friend Heaven, who're posting this for me. See for their sites' addresses at the end of the chapter. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: PG-13 PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 8 TWIST OF FATE that is RANDOMNESS " Hey Jupiter nothing's been the same so are you gay are you blue " Tori Amos " Raindrops keep fallin' on my window- PAIN! They make me company. I can hear them knocking on my door, Now. Should I let them in?" Wet Wet Wet " ' But why will he not dance again?' asked the Infanta, laughing. ' Because his heart is broken' answered the Chamberlain. And the Infanta frowned and her dainty rose-leaf lips curled in pretty disdain. ' For the future let those who come to play with me have no hearts' , she cried, and she ran out into the garden ." Oscar Wilde (forty-eight) Oblivion. (forty-seven) She closed her eyes and tried to blow away the ache running through her (forty-six) forehead and round her eyes with the gentle motion and pressure of her (forty-three) fingertips, three (forty-two) deep breaths (forty-one). Futile. (forty) Behind the heavy curtain of her eyelids, she still (thirty-nine) could see it (thirty-eight). Red, it was. (thirty-seven) Little twisted shape. (thirty-six) Roman numbers and hands in black. (thirty-five) She opened her eyes, laid her hands in her lap again, (thirty-four) not exactly untied, like they had been in the last fifty-three (thirty-three) minutes, or it had been hours, who knows anymore, (thirty-two) and looked out the window. (thirty-one) Outside. (thirty) Outside people lazily walked into the cold grey November day (twenty-nine). The previous day, a warm merry sun had shone in a naked sky (twenty-eight) but, then, during the night, the sky had worn mourning clothes and the (twenty-seven) sun had forgotten about that slice of the planet. (twenty-six) Smells. (twenty-five) Smells gaily tortured her nostrils, tempted her lips, but she didn't care. (twenty-four) She shuffled her feet, instead. (twenty-three) Smells full of promises were floating around. (twenty-two) Mainly, coffee, strawberry juice, blueberry jam tart. (twenty) But that's what they were. Promises. (nineteen) She had plenty of promises. (eighteen) Just enough. She shuffled her feet again. (seventeen) Smells made her sick. Noise vexed her. (sixteen) Noises. (fifteen) More than anything else, the unceasing ticking from the old clock (fourteen) stuck on the black wrought iron pole, on the street's corner (thirteen). Actually, the old old clock or its hands had nothing to tell her (twelve) and did not even make any noise, but she heard them moving the same (eleven). It was a passive ticking, more insidious than a siege, (ten) and was out of time with the beating of her heart. (nine) She heard it clearly, beneath her ears, (eight) beyond, above the impertinent chattering of the rain down (seven) the windows. A crowd of children ran across the street (six) followed by a wagging dog, a cloud of sunny colours (five) no, not five, (four) yes, four, they were, funny rain coats, and umbrellas. (three) The traffic-lights turned green again and cars started their slow (two) motion again through heavy first October rain. (one) She strained her senses (zero we start again but one less one less sixty) and blew out a deep quick sigh of tension. (fifty nine) She _hated_ waiting. It was not a feeling of just mild disappointment (fifty-eight) it was fierce, actual, pure _hatred_. (fifty-seven) She snorted slightly, trying not to notice. (fifty-six) Futile, futile. (fifty-five) Time slowed impassively. (fifty four please please please) Nine minutes anyway. Nine minutes and it was over. (fifty-th) Cold dazzling sun's flashing rays cut her left eye through the window. (ree what? ) Impossible. The sky out the rich wall of drops pouring down the glass is still grey. (uh where what) She frowned, and wiped her eyes. >From the dark , quiet and dull, she heard the door open and intrusive cold messages from outer atmosphere melting within the caf flavours and she opened her eyes again. Her sight blurred for less than a second and she recovered at the time Ten'ou Haruka took a turn around one of the tables, noticed her and walked towards her. Haruka stopped at the other side of the table where she was sitting, leant a hand on the back of the seat, and gazed at her in serious amusement. " Hello" she said, and her lips disclosed in a bright smile "Odango atama" she added, a velvety whisper. Usagi's hands unconsciously clenched in her lap, and she tried to smile in return, with miserable lack of success. Her mimic muscles were twitched, actually, but responsive no more to different emotions from the one to which they were devoted at the moment. Impatience, it was. And maybe a spot of apprehension. " Hello, Haruka-san" she quietly said. Haruka frowned slightly, sitting down. She was wearing a beige suit, trousers and jacket, a white shirt ,very smart, and from what she'd learnt from the lately increased mixing with the high fashion-set through Minako's friendship, Usagi imagined it should be Armani's. " So" Haruka said, seemingly searching for something in all her pockets " what are you doing here?" Usagi slightly started, blinked,frowned. "Uh..." she said " we...'re on a meeting here. All of us" Haruka raised her head, softly hit the packet onto her left hand's palm, let one of the cigarettes glide down, instantly her eyes glowed dark blue, the light softened, they were green again. Greysh green. Because of the rain, it'd be supposed. "Yes" she said gaily " in about..." she glanced down at her wrist clock "...eight minutes" " Seven and fifty-seven seconds, to be precise" (fifty-six) " Precisely" Haruka grinned and gently clasped the cigarette between her lips " what are you doing here? " ( fifty-five) Usagi bitterly smiled. A shadow of a smile, really. (fifty-four) "So perhaps you're referring to the fact that I'm early, right ?" (fifty-three) " Right" she smiled brighter. Usagi shrugged slightly. (fifty-two) " You're early, too" (fifty-one) Haruka seemed to be left off words. But it was not. At first, it had been mere astonishment, (fifty) then happy amusement, but now it was becoming matter of serious curiosity. " Touched" she grinned " weren't we talking 'bout you, anyway?" (forty-nine) Usagi sighed, closing her eyes. (forty-eight) " Well...perhaps you're referring to the fact that I was not used to arrive early at any kinda date, not (forty-seven) even the ones with Mamo-chan, right?" (forty-six) " Right" her smile did not bother her face, this time. (forty-five) She was deeply concentrated on the other girl's expression. She swirled (forty-four) the cigarette in her hand with fingertips. Usagi lifted her head up. (forty-three) " I do no more arrive in delay. Nowhere. Never. I 'm... (forty-two) not_able_ to... I try I try I try but..." she mused, gazed at the elder friend again " no way, understand? It's been since...Setsuna's funeral, I think... (forty-one) I dunno... don't remember..." (forty) " Oh " Haruka said, thoughtfully. She touched her inner pocket and stopped. (thirty-nine) " Damnit" she hissed. She narrowed her eyes. (thirty-eight) "Have you...uh- nothing" she peremptorily snapped her fingers. (thirty-seven) Two of the waitresses started literally racing to their table, the craftiest (thirty-six) nudged the other and conquered the pole. (thirty-five) " Yeees " she said, heavily breathing. " Uh... can you give me a light, please ?" (thirty-four) " Suuure" the young waitress said, and ran away, was back in (thirty-three) a handful of seconds, (thirty-two) with a lighter and an ash-tray. (thirty-one) " Thank you" she said, lighting the cigarette,blowing out the first draft (thirty) of smoke. The waitress smile in worship. (twenty-nine) "What may I take you? " she said cheerfully. (twenty-eight) " For me...uhm...grapefruit juice, please" Haruka said, then waved her hand to Usagi (twenty-seven), making the smoke dance around in subtle waves " what do ya want?" (twenty-six) " Uh, nothing, thank you " (twenty-five) Haruka frowned. She gazed up at the waitress. " Uh, thinking it over, I do not long for that juice that much" (twenty-four) The waitress' cheerfulness smashed on the ground as she let out a feeble, hopeless "oh". (twenty-three) Haruka smiled at her, charmingly. (twenty-two) " Maybe later, when the other friends of ours will be there too. Thank you " (twenty-one) The waitress recovered and almost got away jumping with glee. (twenty) Haruka's gaze came back to Usagi through ghastly smoke. (nineteen) " So...you're doing fine, I think, from what I've heard, odango atama" (eight-) " Yes " Usagi mused " things're going rather well " (een seventeen) " I've read some of your comics. Very good. Lovely pictures too " (sixteen) " Thank you. You're doing well too, if I'm not wrong" (fifteen) " Yes " she mused " wonderfully " (fourteen) Silence fell through smoke and flavours (and noise). " Haruka..." Usagi started, irresolutely, she bit her lips, rhytmically clenched her hands into fists in her lap " you...do you know why we are here ? " she asked, holding the concern. Haruka blinked, lifted her right fingertips ( the ones which clasped the fuming cigarette) to her forehead and softly skimmed it in short parallel tracks. " Uh, well...it's a ...tough question," she leant against the table, shook the ashes into the tray, " and I'm not a philosopher " she stubbed out the cigarette by squeezing it into the tray," but I can give you my opinion " she paused. Usagi uncertainly frowned and nodded. Haruka's smile glowed and she lit up another cigarette. She inhaled and blew out smoke, leaning back the seat. " Well...personally I believe that every being has his,her particular room and role within the environment, and it is fundamental that everyone of us hold this particular room and role in everytime of our life, it's fundamental for our life, fundamental for the survival and fair equilibrium of the universe. And in case someone does not recognize or refuses to recognize his, her particular room and role, this could be pernicious, and could even crack this equilibrium, causing sorrow for himself, herself, and the ones who live about him, her" she concluded and gazed at the other for approval or disdain. Usagi was looking at her, deeply frowning, mouth half open. Haruka doubted she was wonder-struck because of her speech. She frowned too, quickly, tapping the white cigarette upon the tray' s edge. She softly scratched her forehead with her little finger's nail. " Yes, I know, it is a pretty radical position, but it's my way of thinking, at least at the moment" Usagi narrowed her eyes, confused. " But..." she started "Haruka-san...what are you talking about ?" Haruka blinked. " 'bout what we're doing here...in the Universe...on the Planet" she frowned "uh...what did you meant? " " I was meaning...do you know what we are doing here... at the Crown caf." Thoughts, things slowly settled their rooms and roles in her mind, as her mouth opened in mild astonishment, then fuzzy amusement, then conscious understanding. She leant forwards and smashed the cigarette into the tray, swirling it a couple of times before resting her back again, against the seat. " Oh" she paused, thougtful " you don't know" " No " her voice shivered like a knife was dwelling upon her throat "they didn't want to tell me anything, and, y'see, Mina said ' be there at that time and we'll be there too', it's not my birthday, it's not the birthday of any of them, I've passed five hours through the night wondering what ever kinda extraordinary event would be up for meeting, as Mina did not say me, she just overlooked my question, but she'd probably out o' mind, she's always been, but not even Ami, I phoned her, and she ignored my questions and repeated this sickening chorus that 'we'll meet and you'll know, be quiet', then could not get hold of her for the whole night, Mako-chan did not even answer the phone, and Rei..." she grinned bitterly " Rei, I didn't even try to call her " " I do not have a telephone " Haruka said and shrugged " only e-mail" " Yes. You don't " Usagi said in return, carelessly " but y'know I 'm getting more and more worried 'bout this thing, cause I suspect they're not telling me for the thing could scare me or so, I don't know but I CAN'T wait any more " she stuck her vibrant gaze on her " so_please_, if you do know what's up, _please please_, _tell me_, I can't stand this wait anymore, it's scratching my stomach, understand?" Haruka quietly nodded. She did say nothing, anyway, and for pretty a while, ghosts of smoke and silence were the two only waltzing between them. Some ashes fell on the table and she stubbed out the cigarette. She lit up another and inhaled deeply. " Let me tell you a story" she said. Smoke blew faintly out her lips, and her eyes turned blue. Greyish blue, still a deep blue, worn in special occasions. Usagi slightly frowned, but didn't mind. She nodded. " Imagine you've to go off the city for a month. You leave Luna with Minako" " Luna lives with my parents now" Haruka blinked, and smiled charmingly, bowing her head. Some sandy locks glided upon her forehead but she didn't mind. She shrugged. " Really ? Well, we imagine that she's still living with you, and you leave her to Minako while you're away, okay?" Usagi nodded again. " Okay" Haruka smiled wider, took another drop of burning scents through her mouth, she let smoke out " so you one day phone Minako and ask 'how's Luna' and Minako says 'Luna's dead' and you say ' Oh Minako! Couldn't you use a little more tact? I dunno, you could tell me 'Luna climbed on the roof, there was a tottering tile and,y'know...' " she rose her sight toward the younger one and shrugged meaningfully. Usagi seemed not to notice. Haruka gave up a brief ridiculous thought and went on. She squeezed the cigarette in the trash and lit up another. " Anyway. A couple of month after , you've to go off the city again, and you phone Minako and you ask 'how's Mamo-chan' and Mina-chan says ' Ehr...Mamoru climbed on the roof, there was a tottering tile and,y'know...' " she smiled, hissing smoke between her teeth. " It's not funny " Usagi said, still frowning. Haruka raised her eyebrows "It's not supposed to " she said, her voice sinuous like smoke courting before her, she shrugged slightly "It's not all my own work, y'see" she smiled. Usagi sighed. "Anyway" she said, slightly shaking her head " I think I didn't get it" Haruka's smile died as her eyes twisted deep green again. She looked at her with that mix of serious and comprehensive mood, and thoughtfulness, first of all. It was actually like she was not looking at her. It was like her look was passing through her, it was like she didn't even see her, it was like she was not here, it was like she had never been here, it was like everyone looked at her through their receivers since last evening on and it was something she couldn't bear, it was something extremely annoying, it was something throwing a strong test on her patience, it was something hardly poking her best tempers. To be ignored. Haruka stubbed out the just lit cigarette and leant towards her through the table. Close to her face she looked and this time for real, while a wrinkle of a feeling ran through her forehead. " Usako" she said in a low tone which skimmed the whisper and the younger's soul " Mako-chan climbed on the roof-top" For quite a moment, she didn't exactly perceive the suggestion. Simpler, for both heart and mind, she dodged it. She just stared at Haruka resting again back her seat, lighting another cigarette, inhaling deep smoke, let the beautiful ghost out. She even did ignore her eyes growing wider, her jaw falling down, air blowing up heavy from her lungs, swirling out and not even the words woke her. And when she came to again she was standing up, babbling for something. Nonsense, probably, as she read it in Haruka's green eyes, greyish because of the rain. " No" she was saying "you cannot say this see I'm not that stupid believe I'm still a child? I'm not you can 't just play with me like I was a little child and hope you not do that with children anyway...but you can't with me you can't play with me you can't you can't "she felt her voice sound awfully loud and louder in the beating room of her own ears, and shivers melt into tears beyond the scary wall of the corners of her eyes. She managed to swallow them. Haruka aimed the arrows of her beautiful eyes against her, with pretty, or beautiful, who cares anyway, concern. " Sit down Usa, please" she said calmly. " I do _not_ sit down! Not till you say me that it's not fair, no" she squeezed her eyes, concentrated, two enormous glassy tears dropped down, headlong, to the marble floor " true I mean _true_ that Mako-chan's dead because she's _not_, I KNOW!! " Haruka raised an eyebrow, and breathed out smoke. " But she's not" she said, mother of pearl her voice was. Usagi's opened her eyes, wider, her cute head wandered in confusion. " You're sayin' only cause you want me to sit down and calm, right, RIGHT?!" Haruka grimaced and moved uncomfortably on her chair. This was getting a bit harder than she had actually imagined. " Yes, I want you to sit down bu-" "YOU SEE YOU SEE YOU'RE PLAYING WITH ME BUT YOU CAN'T YOU DON'T GET AWAY YOU YOU YOU " tears started frantically dropping across her cheeks " YOU BELIEVE YOU'RE SO GREAT AND STRONG AND MAGNIFICENT YOU CAN PLAY WITH ME ANY DIRTY JOKE YOUR LITTLE ABSENT MIND COULD GET INVOLVED INTO BUT YOU CAN'T AND YOU TELL ME SERIOUSLY THAT MAKO-CHAN IS _NOT_ DEAD!!" " Usako" she said sharply, crashing the cigarette into the tray " Mako-chan is NOT dead, believe me or not, I don't care, but she's NOT dead, 'k? If you do not want to sit down you can stand where you are as well, it makes no difference for me, but you please STOP screaming, sooner the better, clear?" " She's not dead? " Usagi said, uncertain. " No" Haruka said, lighting up another cigarette. She wasn't sure, but this should be the perfect response at the moment. " But you said..." " 't was a story, okay? " she spitted out a curl of smoke " Maybe I've missed the way to make the point clear enough, it's not easy to tell. Anyway she's not dead, I could swear it. Only..." she waved her hand, swirling smoke aside "a grand-piano did fall on her, yesterday in the evening " This did not help. Usagi filled her lungs of pure flavoured delicious air and threw it out dirty and wild against her. " SO YOU STILL WANT TO JOKE WITH ME, HUH? COULDN'T YOU CHOOSE ANYONE ELSE? HOW DARE YOU? HOW _DARE_ YOU_!! STOP IT! STOP IT!!" Haruka fumed a puzzled ghast of smoke which choked in the pure air. She rolled her eyes, distressed. Yes, I'm so stupid sometimes. I'm not that perfect, after all. She snickered. " WHAT'S THAT? " Angry fierce voice came from her back, she turned a little from her seat. Long dark hair slapped her on the face and she withdrew, vexed. Usagi started mildly and stepped back, quivering and gasping like a fish, her eyes wide as Rei's hands clasped her shoulders and she breathed a "USAGI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT ARE YOU _DOING_? WHINING LIKE A PIG IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CAFE' ?"against her face. Usagi miserably managed to take some breath of air more, several words fell onto her tongue and were swallowed until she could give them sound. She rose her left arm quickly and pointed at the woman sitting before her. "She she she she 'twas not my fault she's the one she STARTED!" and she burst into frantic sobs and tears again " SHE'S PLAYING WITH ME, REI, PLAYING DIRTY! SHE DID START !" she miserably cried , pointing at Haruka. Who snapped another cigarette from the packet and lit it. "OH SHUT UP! IT'S YOU! IT'S ALWAYS YOU! YOU'RE A CRY-BABY-CRY" Usagi's face twisted in a miscellaneous of feelings among which fear solitude and rage ruled. "BUT IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT TRUE, IT'S HER, IT'S HER!!" Rei grasped her shoulders tighter and rudely shook her. "STOP! USAGI STOP STOP STOP !" " WHY YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME REI WHY IT'S HER!?!" Ami stopped quietly behind Rei. Absent minded Minako walked on through the high screams,not even caring to watch over her steps and she obviously bumped into Ami, almost making her drop on Rei's back. "Whap!" Minako said " Can't you look where you stop, Ami?" " Minako..." she said softly scolding her. She did not care that much, though. She did care about very few things lately. " Okay okay, that's not the matter" she looked down "may I sit here?" " Sure" Haruka said, snapping another cigarette out the packet , lighting it. "Oooooh" Minako cried softly out , she bit her tongue " could I have one, please?" she said and charmingly smiled. " Sure" Haruka repeated. " Thanksss" she held the cigarette with delicacy between her fingers and let Haruka light it for her. She exhaled smoke out with the elegance of a candle's flame, or a will o'the whisp. "REI BUT SHE TOLD ME THAT MAKO-CHAN'S DEAD!" Usagi finally cried out. Rei suddenly stopped and, of course, no one was able to see the wrenching of her stomach. Ami glanced quietly at Haruka, briefly thought. "Did you ?" Haruka looked up innocently " Of course not ", she sighed " I told her nothing but the mere truth" she smiled. Ami sighed silently and turned. ' THE TRUTH SURE THE TRUTH AH AH AH! SHE TOLD ME A JOKE SHE TOLD AND THAT MAKO-CHAN'S DEAD" her voice's tone incredibly rose and she worked to stress each syllable with the exhausted annoyance of a child nit by mosquitoes " SHE TOLD ME THAT A _PIANO _ _FELL_ ON_HER_"she furiously looked around "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE? I WANT TO SEE HER! ISN'T SHE COMING? ISN'T SHE COMING?" Rei recovered. She held her tight ,turned around her and pushed her down, made her sit beside herself. "No, uh, where, WHAT, she told, but where you don't-" Ami followed, gently clasped Usagi's shoulder too. "Usagi, please, calm down" she whispered tenderly. Usagi turned rapidly, heavily breathing. " Oh AMI AMI AMI YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I TRUST! PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME THE TRUTH TELL ME THE TRUTH TELL MAKO-CHAN'S SAFE!" she crossed the path of tears again and she dropped them with sobs growing within her chest and buried her face in her hands. " Usagi, please" Ami held her friend's shoulders as Rei gave up and rolled her eyes. "Isn't there a less crowded place in the whole city? Whose has been the GREAT idea of coming right here?" Rei hissed spitefully. Minako intercepted the majestic glare and grimaced delightfully. "Hers" she said, bitter honey juice, and pointed the cigarette's glittering spot toward Usagi. Rei grunted. Minako narrowed her eyes, inhaled " Next time you phone her, huh, clever one?" she said mockingly, smoke snorted impatient through her dainty lips. She tapped furiously her right foot, twice, on the floor. She found it quite comfortable. Hurled stress out. She heedlessly smiled and kept on. She puffed smoke in sapient rings out of her lips. " Since when do you smoke Minako?" Haruka said, her voice quite sheltered by Usagi's cries and tears. Minako swirled her head around, gazed at her and giggled merrily. " Since now" she said. "Hello" They both turned to the shy sound's source. Violet eyes were not looking at them, though. " You told her?" Hotaru stared at the group of three before herself, not talking to them, though. " I didn't " Minako answered, happily tapping her foot " she did" Hotaru turned and gazed at Haruka. "Hello, Haruka-papa" she smiled. Minako giggled softly. " Wanna sit here?" Hotaru shrugged. " Thank you" " Ami Ami Ami I trust you she said she's DEAD tell me she's NOT DEAD! Please Amiii" " Usagi" Ami tenderly tried to creep within the girl's unceasing mourn. " Usagi" she firmly held her shoulders. Usagi paused . Ami thought deeply and started " Usagi, what Haruka-san told you's true" " WHAT AMI " she gasped, trembling " NO PLEASE NO GOD PLEASE PLEASE" " Wait wait wait Usa-chan, let me finish " she raised her left hand before the other's anguished face. " WHAT?!" Usagi screamed out in exhaustion. " You'll stay calm, right? " Ami said, serious serious. Usagi bit wildly her lips, clenched fingers upon forearms, scratching her nails on her creamy skin. Her eyes glowed livid. " Yes" she blew out. For three seconds there was no noise but the increasingly frequent tapping of Minako's right foot on the floor. (tap tap tap) " What Haruka-san told you's truth, Usagi-chan" Ami patiently repeated " Yesterday, in the evening, (tap) they were carrying a grand-piano up to... a (tap tap) terrace, I think, one of the steel ropes broke and, they couldn't help it. Mina (tap) and Mako-chan were passing right there and...the piano fell right on Mako-chan" she paused. (tap-tap-tap) " Yes" a sensitive voice. (taptap) The three of them turned. Minako smiled charmingly, ashes from her cigarette falling like snow down, every part of her body shaking against thin air or pedantry to the floor, the table, the seat. The blue in her eyes still glimmered like the past day sky. She giggled. (tap!) " Ladies and gentlemen, a superb Steinway lies on the sidewalk, just before The Ritz, new attraction of the city" Usagi blinked twice, recovered (tap! tap! taptap!) for the seventh time in the day. " NO " she shook her head in commotion, turned to Ami "YOU SAID SHE'S NOT NO " (taptapataptap) Ami turned, came out of her thoughts to her whining friend again. " Usagi, she's not dead" (tap tap) " WHA- what...but...how..." she rocked right and left, forth and back. Ami shook her head. " I don't know how. (tap) Likely, it's because of our powers, I don't know. Mako-chan's always been a strong one, but no human being could have survived the impact (tap tap tap ) from the piano to the ground. The fact is that she is. The piano fell on her stomach and crushed her to the pavement. Her upper body's been (taptap) almost spared, except from a broken arm and a light head-concussion due to the hit to the ground. Not that it has been great luck (taptaptaptapta) to her" she started " I mean, because that way she's been well awake (ptaptaptaptaptaptap) and aware (taptaptap) of anything. Pain, most of all, until they picked her up to the hospital. She's been in operatory theater the whole night, Usagi. I was going there too just when you phoned me" she swallowed " I stayed with her during most the operation. She's (taptap) several injuries all over her lower body, but they have, uh, settled (TAP) the main, and now she's under therapeutic coma, you know what it is?" A slight no. (tap) Ami sighed. (tap) " It's like she's...resting...sleeping if you want. She's not aware of anything except maybe of herself, and, first of all, she does not have to feel the pain. There are much more possibilities she'd be better, that way" (taptaptaptap) " Be better? " (taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptapt) " Uhm, yes" she frowned, slightly turned. (aptaptaptaptaptaptaptapta) " Could you please STOP it (ptap) Minako? You're getting on everybody's nerves" harsh Rei's voice went out. Minako didn't exactly stopped. She grimaced, glared at Rei furiously,crossed her legs and continued swinging anxiously her foot, tapping her left hand's fingers on her thin leg. " Ami...?" Ami turned and plunged her eyes into the pools of anguish Usagi's eyes were. "Usagi " she said "I can say that Mako-chan's very probably going to survive. Still...the worst detail is that..." she took a deep breath and said it " some splinters of spinal bone got into the marrow and cut it " she bit her lips " she'll be lucky if she'll completely recover the motion ability of the upper body, expecially the diaphragm's...but" she sadly shook her head, lowering it " the rest...the rest is that she'll be paraplegic, Usagi, that's what. She'll never walk, run, fight again" She did not raise her head. She did not look into her friends' eyes again. She could not. She silently pleaded for Minako tapping again her foot on the floor, for the music from the caf juke-box grow loud or anything to break this silence. She hardly knew when the air she herself was breathing was cut off, moved away from her lap where her hands were twisting now, from her lungs, from her mouth. Then the scream rushed out, and she knew. The scream of her first true friend. She knew it from the tears falling over her hands, they reflected it in every possible angle, and she knew they were hers, and hers were the shaking shoulders, hers the throat's hidden lumen, ill bred with sobs. Rei hurled herself to Usagi and grasped her tight, folding her arms round her trembling shoulders. " NO! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT" she screamed in rage and hugged the blonde one, pressed her face on her back, lying the curtain of her dark hair upon it. Usagi leant back against her, hiding her face in her own hands, disarmed child. Ami slowly leant forward and she rested her head hair and shelter upon Usagi's right shoulder and cried. Minako blew into the yellow straw and stared with burning desire at the green juice boiling in the glass. " Minako" severe Rei's voice. Minako raised quickly her glare, took a deep breath, put the glass down. She folded her arms and started again the full swing of her body. Haruka threw her last cigarette into the grapefruit juice, and lit up another. " Want to break a record, Haruka?" " No" she chuckled, twisted the cigarette between her dainty pale fingers, " but thinking over it, it's not a bad idea, after all, Ami" Ami warily smiled, sipped her coffee, thought that caffeine was becoming slightly different drug from smoke. " What's happening to us? " Usagi shyly started. They all looked at her. " What's happening to us? " she repeated slowly, nervously hanging the tread of her voice " I mean, first, Setsuna, then...Michiru, and this" she lifted her head up. The rain had stopped, but the sky stayed grey anyway. " You think these events're somehow connected? " Rei asked. " I don't know" Ami replied in spite of her " I mean, three Senshi somehow off in a year is pretty unusual...considered all the battles we faced in the past, but these events are so distant in time, and there's no technique, have not one detail in common...uh, I don't know. It looks like a paranoid thought, y'know, someone's haunting us, someone's threatening the bravest Sailor Senshi, I (need some sleep not filthy caffeine SLEEP here and now) don't know" she sighed. Haruka snapped another cigarette and lit it. She looked down at her watch. She frowned. " Yes, but maybe there's actually someone hunting us. A new enemy" Usagi continued " Maybe he's not discovered our real identities yet. You know how much it did take, to find talismans, it's not easy to find somebody in the big city, expecially if you do not know where to look for. Or maybe the enemy has already found all of us, but has decided to get rid of us one by one, distant in time and very different ways,so that we would just think that we're being a little too paranoid and trash any kinda suspect, so that no one would ever suspect that these events are related, makes Setsuna die, Michiru give up her duties, I dunno, maybe she was hypnotized, or br-" Haruka sniffed a brief laugh. Usagi raised her head up to her. Haruka's eyes glanced at her and glow blue, a melancholic velvet blue. " Oh no. There's no enemy. You actually do not know what it is?" she smiled and leant forward, she rose her hands and waved them like a rainbow " Randomness" she evoked " randomness it is. Confusion" she grinned " Chaos...doesn't it belong to everyone's heart,little Princess, uh? " She sweetly smiled, stood up and leant over her, closing the distance to her face. Her deep blue green greysh enchanting eyes lowered over her, her sight fell past her down to the tray where Haruka stubbed out her twenty seventh cigarette, between the thick mosaic of white twisted tobacco corpses. Her eyelids raised up, and she gently smiled, pale lips. " Do not worry about Mako-chan, darling" not much more than a whisper it was, still clear "She was strong, maybe she still could be, but, at the moment, she's gone" she waved her hand" Mako-chan's _gone_, darling, have this clear. And if I were you, Princess," her eyes glided meaningfully besides " I'd worry about the left ones, instead" She lifted herself up, running her fingers through sandy hair. " Well, sorry, but I have to go, now" she gingerly smiled " I have a date in, uh, ten minutes and I'm not gonna break my neck on some absurd delay race" she bowed politely and grinned "At least not today. Goodbye" She left. Every bone of Minako's body was dancing tip-tap onto its neighour, with conscience, frantic and unceasing. Suddenly she stopped. She looked around, like she had just woken up from a dream, narrowed her eyes, squeezed her brain. " She's on a _date_?" she said. End of Chapter 8 Go on visiting these sites Artemis&Luna's Central Command Headquarters http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9897/ Sailor Moon Romance http://www.ctd.nwu.edu/~aerdnahu/ Jupiter Knight's Great Sailor Moon Fanfic Archive http://www.dragonfire.net/~JupiterKnight/fanfics.htm Haruka and Michiru's Fanfics (section of The Complete Sailor Moon Page) http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/6633/harmich.htm Sailor Moon Fanfiction (page from Jackie Chiang's site) http://sailorneptune.simplenet.com/sailormoon/fanfics/ Heaven of Haruka http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Set/7939/stories.htm Immora's Spiffy Sailor Moon Page http://www.geocities.com/~immora/silvermoon.html AND, of course, visit my friend's page at Heaven's Home http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/7412/index.html --------------7EA04F6143DF-- --------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------- Visit Heaven's and My Own Page at http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/7412/index.html and http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/7396/index.html --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------- HISTORY NOTES 1) Note of November 2nd. Well, I'm a little frustrated. Chapter 9 insists in not coming out like I wanted it to. Damn. 2) Note of November 6th, 18.32 Still, it's rested so long abandoned in my drafts, that I could no longer wait and send it later. I want to go straight to Chapter 10 and then to the end of this story. Soon. 3) Note of November 6th, 22.52 See, this Chapter is _still_ not what it was supposed to be, STILL, in these about six hours, 'something' 's happened, AND 'something' 's changed. You shoulda see the previous version, I mean, the 18.32 version, to be able to see how better this new one is, and the merit goes to a great schizophrenic my mom says I'm not too far to be alike, David Helfgott, his Rach.3, and Vivaldi. Anybody who's not even once listened to any of these, nor at least seen the movie about David Helfgott's life&resurrection, (titled 'Shine'), at least once, is missing something divinely beautiful. Thanks. NOT ACTUALLY USEFUL NOTES, BUT READ THEM THE SAME, 'K? 1) Avoiding confusion about Hotaru's age in this story. Actually I don't feel the urge to estabilish how old she is there, expecially considering that Hotaru's to be much more mature despite her age. Thus, I think I'm not estabilishing it at all. Instead, I'm giving you a hint by telling you that the image of Hotaru in my head does not precisely correspond neither to the Anime nor the Manga one. I see her like Natalie Portman in Leon. 2) The juke-box song's ' Stay (Faraway so close)' by U2 (also quoted). 3) Ah! If you're getting confused 'bout it, have never seen the whole SM series, or never noticed anyway, Haruka's eyes do change color, and there are actually persons whose eyes change colors depending on their mood or the sky's mood, who knows. I am one of these, for example. 4) And as I want to be absolutely clear this time, the three girls Haruka 'meets' in this Chapter, (the green, the platinum blonde, the dark haired) have _never_ appeared before in this story. In particular, the platinum blonde one has nothing to do with Yelena. 5) As Sailor Pluto, Setsuna once saved Uranus and Neptune's lives by stopping time just before they go burst inside their elicopter while trying to enter Omega Zone ( ex- Mugen Gakuen). See the specific reference in the text. 6) Thad is the guy with amber eyes's name. DISCLAIMERS GO HERE Sailor Moon's names and characters are copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha and some others I do not remember. The little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter are copyrighted too, by their respective, dead or alive, authors. Everything's used without the permission of any of them. Please, do not sue me. This story is copyrighted too, anyway, by MYSELF. You don't try to copy me, as I have not copied anyone else, okay? Thank you. LANGUAGE NOTE And, again, English is not my mother tongue, I'm SORRY for mistakes of any kind. I would not have made them, if I had written in my mother tongue, so, please, be patient. RESPONSES Responses are welcome, of course. Comments and flames go there e.bosco@areacom.it or heles1@hotmail.com ( only if the other Mail server'd be down) THANKS TO Takeuchi Naoko, without whose involuntary contribution nothing of this would have happened Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. - JON CARP- For writing his stories. For reading this. For happiness and friendship he's able to give. Thank you thank you thank you. And you know who also? Thanks to Laura Hudson. For Ripples. It's hardly anything to do with my story/chapter, but it is a wonderful, vibrant, vivid story about the most loved (and most scorned) of the Senshi. Thank you. [Ehr...no, I'm not 'betraying' the Great Jon. He's _still_ my favourite writer, but I have seemingly found a girl whose stories can hold the comparison, and I'm thankful to her] To Rachmaninov&Vivaldi, for having nothing in common (or they do?) except for the fact that they both somehow 'live' in the soundtrack of Shine. To Alicja, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To all who have read my story and be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this. To Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Haruka and Michiru Fanfics Page's owners , Immora, Jackie Chiang, and my insane friend Heaven, who're posting this for me. Go on with the story. A SM Story rated: R PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 9 THE TOUCH that is PAIN " Girl, you'll be a woman. Soon " Neil Diamond " Stay with the demons you drowned Stay with the spirit I found Stay and the night would be enough" Bono (U2) " O true apothecary, Thy drugs are quick " William Shakespeare And she got out in the cold grey first October afternoon. She ran through the rough path of stone, past the cold grey gate, and stopped, panting. Thin air curled in a lump of dissatisfaction before her pale lips and nostrils, while she just stared at the yellow chubby shape of the bus moving too far away. She sighed in discomfort. She first tried not to feel frustrated, but it was futile. Splendid. Indeed, it was her fault. _She_ was late _again_ , _thus_ she was going to have another funny grey cold pair of hours waiting for the next bus to pass. Without any lunch, of course. Just splendid. When Divine Punishment Turns Into Reality. Sounded like an apocalyptic movie's title. Splendid. She shuffled her foot on the darker grey pavement, thinking. She puffed, and a pair of clouds made just with the silk of the air fluttered before her, embraced like lovers, whirled around, shivered in the cold cold afternoon breeze, still holding on but terrified, they died. She turned round and was about to walk back again into the tormenting school building, when she heard the voice. Suddenly, she knew it was not just one of the ashes butterflies inside her cutie cutie skull. The realization almost stuck her onto the ground. "Hotaru" the voice called again. And it was not one from the inside. It was from outside, and, almost unreal, it was real. She whirled around and her center of gravity smashed to the ground with her school-bag but she did not care. She jumped high past them both and ran to the slender silhouette in black waiting few meters away. And though her red boots didn't make any noise to the ground, her bright cry rushed out with the glee of water pouring from silver shells. Haruka slightly leant down to pick up the cute cute little lady who fell on her neck and folded her arms tightly around it, still laughing. Haruka fondly hugged the girl, clasping her arms around her back and legs. She chuckled. " Girl, you're growing up! " she whispered in the little girl's ear. Hotaru drew herself a little back and locked her violet scary eyes with Haruka's dark green ones. " But it' s not fair! " Haruka smiled and shrugged " See I'm just as tall as before! " Hotaru drew wildly her head back and laughed. Seven seconds later their eyes were locked again. "Yeap" Hotaru said, the splinter in her left eye glowing. " See babe I don't long for the day I 'll be no more able to pick you up and hold you like this" Haruka paused the time for a little cut of breath, a break of sweetness above her pale lovable face. She hugged the little girl closer. " Missed you"she tuned in a tender tune. "I missed you more" Hotaru replied, serious. "Hotaru Hotaru Hotaru" she called, her voice sparkling. Hotaru lifted her head up and bit another stiletto-chip, a crisp surface and still warm inside, like she liked them the most. Just like she was feeling now. Haruka was sitting in front of her, holding a chip between two fingers, her eyes weirdly deep blue staring at something. " _Don't _turn_round_ " she whispered, stressing each word " but look at what that guy behind you's doing" Hotaru frowned " 'xcuse me?" Haruka started slightly and flipped back from her stuck mood. She blinked, bit her chip. "What ?" " How may I see that guy behind me, if I don't turn ?" she said softly. Haruka chewed, swallowed the chip. "Uh, yes, right very right..." she mused " well...so you turn round but" she gestured something " try to make it...I dunno...natural, y'know... with nonchalance..." Hotaru sighed. She concentrated upon a kind of mannered stretch of her upper body, wondering if there actually was a way, and if it still worked above people's consciousness. She took a quick glimpse of the guy and turned again. She blinked at Haruka flattening herself over the table, seemingly managing to acquire more invisibility by this position. " Seen?" she murmured, clasping a chip. Hotaru leant against the table's border and clasped a couple of chips, with nonchalance. "Yes" she frowned, biting the chips "I think. He's eating chips, like everybody here " she waved her hand, and the two chips, around. Haruka lifted herself up. " He's plunging them into _mayonnaise_" she exclaimed, softly "_mayonnaise_, 'taru-chan, isn't it...just..._disgusting_? " "Oh" Hotaru grimaced "yes" "Yes " Haruka repeated, thoughtfully. She smiled, pretty satisfied by her last performance. " You like this place" she asked. It did not sound actually like a question, but Hotaru answered the same and "Very much" she said. Haruka shrugged slightly, looking around. " I was sure you'd like it .I discovered it this summer" she sighed "Y'know, I was _so_ fed up of all these first-class expensive restaurants, waiters dressed like penguins, strings quartets playing and Picasso's on the walls" she grimaced, then smiled again "You know that I had never been to a self-service restaurant before that time ? Crazy, huh?" "I dunno. This is my first time in a self-service restaurant too." Haruka's smile grew dazzling and wider "Well, isn't it amazing?" Hotaru thought briefly "I've never been in a place like this before too" she answered " I've always imagined that self-service should look like school refectories. Even sophisticated Mugen Gakuen ones were kinda like that, y'know, cold and squalid. You can't actually enjoy your having lunch there. But this place.." she swallowed her last but one chip full of colors and music, taking a meaningful gaze around," this place...yes, amazing's the rightest word to define it. I love it" she raised up the last chip and bit it " And you were right when you said that they serve the best potato-chips of the town" Haruka chuckled "Yes, they do" she leant forwards, narrowing her eyes, she grinned " want one portion more?" Hotaru bit her lips twice " I'd _wish_ to!" she answered cheerfully. "Good" Haruka stood up, looked down severely "You won't run away, will you ?" Hotaru considered it briefly, she frowned. " I don't think so " she replied, serious. Hotaru followed the black silhouette of Ten'ou Haruka through the sunny shrill colors. She leant back her seat and looked around. A considerable number of rectangular tables were settled in a ruffled order in the wide hall, orange the tables, indigo the seats, two white columns casually rose, one on the left, one on the right side of the hall, and the walls were practically covered with old shining juke-boxes, all tuned on the same song, different in shape and colors, but all stunning and bright. Four waitresses dressed in light pink uniforms were clearing the tables. Hotaru glanced at the juke-box on her left. It was bigger than most of the others, paunchy and darker, yellow arched hypnotizing light running forth and back to its top, heartily framing the list of available songs. The golden shape of a majestic eagle was traced over its lap, and looked at her with one ruby eye. It was more than a merely tempting invitation. Her glance moved quickly again, looking for Haruka's shape. She was standing a few meters from the exhibition of tidbits, talking with a pretty excited green haired girl. Hotaru bit her lips and licked them, turning her gaze to the juke-box. It was playing Chuck Berry 'You never can tell' at the moment and the colored lights sprinkled at twist-time, like fireworks on its smooth surface, and she silently glided down from her seat. She walked quietly to the merry machine, searching her pockets for some coins. She stopped in front of it and carefully checked Haruka's position. Haruka was folding her arm around the green-haired girl waist and seemingly leading her somewhere. Hotaru looked down at the songs' list. The titles were written in scarlet upon a yellow background, authors in lower cases beside. She bit her lips again. She really wanted to make the bright juke-box play a song for her, still she was not able to decide. Eventually she closed her eyes. She raised her forefinger and aimed. She shoot. She gingerly opened her eyes. She smiled. She put the coins into the slot and pushed E-2. Few seconds and there was a little 'click' within the machine, which, on the other side, was not loud enough to hide the kind of shrill choked cry coming from her right. Hotaru started and turned her head. Her mystical eyes could only get a quick glimpse of the green-haired girl running away, face buried in her hands before the music slowly peeped up with polished innuendo, and captured her within its involving tide. She smiled by pleasure and forgot about the green-haired girl. She was still smiling, eyes closed, humming the words of the song softly, when Haruka came back. She didn't perceive, though. "...three o'clock in the morning there's no one around..." she softly sang. Thus Haruka sat down and did not dare disturbing the girl's quiet bathing within the song. She waited. And her smile glowed brighter, her eyes blue. "...just the bang and the cradle when the angels hit the ground..." The song smashed and Hotaru giggled by herself and opened her eyes. She softly started, and gave a blushing little smile. " Really like that song, huh? " Haruka said, handing Hotaru a plate of stiletto chips. "Yep" she fondly bowed her head " It reminds me of you" Haruka laughed, biting a potato chip. Hotaru leant against the table, feelings still wandering. She picked up three chips between her fingers and stared at them with faint interest. She frowned a little. " Haruka, what happened with that green haired girl? " she asked. " Uh,...which girl? " she tapped her fingers on the table. " That girl... the one with green hair...I saw you talking to her-" " Oh, THAT girl" she rushed into the phrase and grimaced slightly " yeah, _that_ girl" she shrugged, swallowing a chip "just one of those..." she said inconsistently waving her hand " those seemingly members of the cute club We Love Great Racer Ten'ou Haruka So We Shall Do Our Best To Stifle Him As Much As Possible" she snorted. "Not actually a cute name for a fan-club " Hotaru said, thoughtfully. Haruka grinned bitterly in response and shrugged. "But...see, I thought you somehow did... _appreciate_ this kind of things..." Hotaru smiled, bowed her head over her right shoulder, continued prudently, "y'know...girls coming after you and dying for an autograph of yours or even just a handshake..." she giggled. Haruka raised one of her eyebrows and her face radiant and quiet like dawn. Then, suddenly, she raised her right hand and waved it cheerfully "Hiiiii" she performed in a coquettish, perfectly languishing tone, fluttering dark eyelashes," you're the great racer Ten'ou Haruka, right? " her face and upper body quivered in deep emotion, her iris drooped like two actual blue lagoons, as she twined her fingers " oooooh pleeeease would you make me the happiest girl on earth, huh? Would you?" she stopped, her features rose and tense like dawn. Then, suddenly the precious building of her face dropped and with a deeply inspired 'bleah' she concluded, a sincere grimace of disgust. Hotaru blinked a couple of times, still enraptured by the magic of the scene, then she laughed. Haruka let herself lean ungracefully back against her chair, and searched for a packet of cigarettes in her black jacket. She picked one and lit it. She inhaled deeply, then let elusive smoke blow out. "Yeah" she said, thoughtfully " that could feel nice, that could feel fine, that could feel neat for a couple of times, but, in the end, _annoying_'s all that it is" " Well..." Hotaru started. "Yes, I know" Haruka kept on " once I enjoyed at least teasing them a little, and then it appeared to be funny, but now it's not actually enough. That's what. It's not enough. Nor even just funny" she grinned "Funny. _Fuckin'_ them all, that'd be ACTUALLY _FUNNY_" she chuckled by herself. She started and stopped. Her green blue sinner eyes suddenly dodged the girl's scary ones. " Uh, sorry" she murmured. " For what ?" Hotaru asked, with pretty dismay. Haruka moved uncomfortably on her seat, smashed the cigarette in the yellow trash. "Uh...nothing..I mean.." she babbled "uhm..." she gazed at Hotaru deeply. She took a low breath and her lips disclosed and apparently let words out, but nothing came. She gaped with surprise. She lowered her eyes, looking at her hands twisting in her lap. She raised them up to her face and closed her lips upon fingers. " Hotaru? " she started " You..you really grew up, right ?" Hotaru frowned and looked at her interrogatively. " I mean...you've been always so mature despite your age, but..." she bit her right middle finger hard and gasped in pain. She stared at it and the rose scar on it. She looked towards, with a heavy frown "Hotaru, you remember if I was used to bit my fingers ? See " she said, holding her wounded hand to the girl " days ago...I almost cut it off " "Uh, no. I don't remember anything like that " Haruka shook her head slightly, brought the fingers to her mouth again, softly resting them between her lips. "Yes yes yes" she sighed. Suddenly she shrugged. "Okay " she said, like relieved " forget about what I told you before. I'm pretty sure that " she hesitated " you're prepared" she shook her head again," sure, you're probably more prepared than me" she grinned, looking at Hotaru more directly "see, girl, it's been long long time we didn't talk. And this is all my fault" she licked her lips, her hand dropped on the table, " It did not appear blatant at first, but many things have changed after Setsuna's death. Many things" she weighed the second idea of her speech and the way to phrase it most correctly and less emotionally " remember what Michiru told about Setsuna monitoring time and controlling that everything'd go the way it was meant to be, or at least the way _she_ did believe was the better for us? " " Uh, yes. She did it for the sake of us" Hotaru replied, carelessly biting a chip. Haruka gaped, her lips shattered within a vivid vibration. " Y'mean" her voice faltered, her look moved away "you know it's true ?" she asked, holding her breath back. Hotaru did not answer. She sat still and silent for a couple of instants, lowered her eyes, meditatively, playing with chips between her fingertips. " I mean, it's possible" she said with maiden's accuracy, and bit a chip "First, she had a kind of power that probably only mine can overcome, the power of controlling Time, the _Key _ of Time, the power of moving through it, shifting it, pausing it just as she'd like to. So the question is, wouldn't a person having such a great power, just be...y'know,_tempted_ to use them, perhaps just to keep unhappiness far away from the one she loves ? Or what she believed it'd be unhappiness for them, of course" she paused, and, not waiting for a response, she sighed "Sure, there were rules, but " she raised her violet look upon her "_you_ did see her her breaking them once, when she saved you and Neptune before you entered the Omega zone" she grinned " In a way, I _did_ see this too" she shrugged " anyway, I saw her breaking the rules several times and almost nothing happened" she waved her right hand " In the worst eventuality she was sent back at the Time Gate and then she could be back again just as nothing's happened. Funny, huh? " she said, though her voice missed the funny happy ending note. Hotaru narrowed her eyes and they glowed mystically violent. She raised her right forefingers before her face. " _Second_...something's undeniably _changed_ after her death. For everyone of us. I mean, not only us, the Outers, but even the Inners who were certainly not so bound to Setsuna as we were, they're changed too. I know it, because I can see it." she leant back against her seat, quietly thinking "So" she said in an extraordinary mellow voice " I sincerely tell you. In my opinion, she did it"she pause, tasting the cho of her words peacefully reuniting with silence, she shrugged " And it was not fair. But she had the power of doing it, and sure she did it for our sake" She blew out a quiet breath and bit another chip. And as quietly as it was strongly encrypted in her private nature, she rose her violent sweet contemplative eyes upon her friends. Haruka slowly swallowed. "So " she started irresolutely " you do believe she did it" "Yep " Hotaru replied plainly, a tender smile naturally slipped out, " and it's a problem for you, right? Because it was her to state which way would be the best for you and you do no longer know, right?" Haruka twinkled a shy smile. "Right" she sighed " That's why I was so troubled and felt the urge to be alone for a while. I tried to figure it out" " And you've found it out now? " Haruka frowned slightly, managed to glow the smile, the dazzling one. " I don't know " she answered, thoughtfully " I don't know who I am " Hotaru swallowed a chip and shrugged, bowed her gracious head and threw her an enchanting (electric) smile. " Don't worry. Nobody does " she said, velvety. " Really? " Hotaru carefully pondered for a moment, looking beyond her, she raised an eyebrow. " Nope " she said, and smiling, leant forward " just I thought it sounded pretty cool, didn't it? " she smiled wide. Haruka disclosed her beautiful lips in a scolding way. " No no no " Hotaru cut her off " okay. I don't know wheter if anybody does or not" she kindly pressed her right hand upon her breast "see, I do not, for example, but I _never_ actually did, so I didn't notice the difference" she smiled sweetly " Instead, I can say that many of us, many of the Inners have this same problem. Perhaps they didn't actually realize it, probably not yet, but they are changed. And they are puzzled and lost because of it, wheter they 're aware of it or not. I examined them carefully during my trips to the city from the country and I know " her scary look softened, the splinter in her left eye glimmering reassuringly " but there's no problem, girl. See, if you do no longer know who you are, just be what you want " Haruka nervously chuckled. "Y'mean...be what you want to be, do what you want to do, and have time of your life ?" she murmured. Hotaru drew her head gingerly back, looking up at the boring lights of the ceiling, bit her lips once, looked down again, she narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. "Mmm, yes" she mused "I think" She shrugged off her mind the cicadas singing of vain songs and giggled. " Yes sure, that's what I mean" she repeated. " Okay " Haruka replied " so the problem's here. I'm no longer sure about what I would like to be and to do" she took a quick breath, wiping her warm green eyes " see, it's...it's like I have everything I've ever desired and now..." she paused, concentrating as in a deep realization " I do no longer know what I want" she stayed still, hanging from the echo of her own words. Her eyebrows both raised, and she looked at Hotaru, who bit a chip in response, but did not look at her in return. " I guess you shall discover it by yourself" " I know " she clasped her hands together on the table " but see, I think it's time to make up my mind" she sighed, raised her fingers up to her forehead, closed her eyes, smiled slightly "you know what I see when I close my eyes? " she asked and paused, as expecting for a response. Hotaru's eyes locked within hers, attentive eyes. She slightly shook her head. " I see the world crumble with rapid motion round myself, and I stand still beneath the hurricane's heart, still very still, not even my hair perceive the motion, and then I open my eyes and realize that the world is just going on at its usual speed, but it's true, because it's true there's something _inside_ myself, something inside myself, y'understand, _I_ am the one crumbling, crumbling inside, with rapid motion, and still, still I stand still, staring deeply in the hurricane's heart" she closed her eyes, massaging her eyelids "but that's not the right way. I passed the last seven months standing still, waiting for the answer to just fall on me and catch me. Waiting. That's what I've done" she snickered " oh oh yes,sure I- I- _thought_, I _persuaded_ myself that it was _not_ that way, that I was actually _searching_ , but NO, the truth is that I stood still for seven months, just _waiting_, and we can easily guess that the 'just waiting for something to fall on you from the Sky' is the behaviour of those who actually did _not_ want the answer or didn't want it to _hit_ or _hurt_them, and are just _scared_ about it, more or less consciously" She clenched her jaw and hands, raising her chin and metallic blue eyes to Hotaru. " And, girl, " she almost hissed " I do HATE this to be just ME. I HATE being SCARED. I never was. So now there _is_ ONE thing I'm sure of. I 'm sure I don't want to be SCARED of the answer, whatever it is. And it'd probably be a pain, but I don't mind. I don't want to be scared. This I know" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, relaxed a bit. " So " she kept on, without disclosing her eyes " once stated that stillness should not be included in my personality's favourites, I thought that, first, the answer could be not inside, but_outside_, after all, and, second, that it's absolutely time to take a first step " she freed her hands from the tight mutual clasp, opened green blue eyes. Hotaru nodded, thoughtfully chewing. " Uh-uh " she mused " and what's it ? " And this time _the_ smile glowed , crawled through Haruka's rose lips as they moved into the soft waltz of " I tell you a story " and quietly curled upon them, like an old clever cat purring by the fire. Hotaru leant against the table and rested her cheek upon her right hand. "Nice!" she exclaimed " I _love_ stories" " I know" Haruka fondly said and she started "I had a race yesterday, 't was the last of the Championship. I won." " Congratulations" Hotaru merrily said. " Thanks. Anyway, we, I mean, all the team had a party, y'see, in order to celebrate the great victory, in the Excelsior Grand Hotel hall, remind what I told you before about penguins and strings and Picasso's and you get the picture. Anyway, we were all in that big hall, celebrating, and I was just standing managing to figure something out from one Picasso's wild confusion, when suddenly I heard a voice and I swear you the words are you having time of your life?" Haruka turns round, and, without just a bang of anticipation, she finds erself facing a girl, long platinum blonde straight hair. Her eyes are so light that sparkle, but you can't establish whether it is because of excitement or if it is their natural liveliness. The girl smiles lovably, bows her head and repeats the words, in a softer tone. " Are you having the time of your life?" she says, and she does not realize the whole meaning. Haruka blinks, chuckles pretty nervously, holds the half empty champagne glass before herself as a protective wall. " I don't know " she says " what do ya think? " The girl giggles, narrows her eyes. " I can give you time of your life" she whispers. " Really? " The girl nods, comes closer. She raises her chin and smiles, sinuously. " Put me on a test, Ten'ou Haruka" Haruka smiles, and, before " even realizing we went in one of the hotel's rooms reserved for the team's members and she opens the door, naturally, and they both plunge their eyes over the city night view through the large window. Though, the girl moves quickly to the window and draws the curtains, leaving night and lights outside. Haruka stops in the middle of the room, uncertain about whether taking something from the bar cabinet or simply sit down on the indigo sofa. Soaked within irresolution she just stands still, waiting for the girl to make the first move. And she does, of course. She perfectly knows what she wants to do. She perfectly knows what she has to do. Lucky girl. Haruka wonders about how many times the girl has already performed this same scene, and for how many people. But she doesn't care, after all. This time will be unique. The smile smoothly glides about her lips, but she doesn't let it glow right now. The girl smiles in return a different smile indeed, as she carefully loosen her robe, eventually gets rid of it and closer to Haruka. She folds her arms around Haruka's waist and presses her milky body against hers. She giggles softly and raises on the tips of her toes. Her sparkling eyes slowly gets half closed, her lips half open, and for a sparkling moment she breaths Haruka's breath, she's about to reach Haruka's lips, and she kisses a couple of gentle fingertips, instead. She opens her sparkling eyes, much more puzzled. Haruka's blankly looking down at her. " Wait" she says. She sighs "I think there's a thing you should know" The girl frowns, but does not loose her clasp around Haruka's waist. " What ?" she smiles, maliciously " you won't tell me you're gay, huh? " Haruka hardly snickers " Nope, girl" she says " it's...something... different..." and she unbuttons her shirt, calmly. The girl giggles, twisting her body against Haruka's, and at first she does not even realize. But then she does, of course. She looked just like she hadn't seen a woman's breast in _all_ her life. God, she was not merely_embarassed_, she was _actually_ scared, girl, probably she thought I was a perverted or so, but the most _amusing_ detail was the way she was totally and awfully _ashamed_ of herself, I mean, _ashamed_ to be almost naked before me, see, she wouldn't be had I been a man, but she couldn't just bear the shame of having stripped her clothes just before a _female_, my, isn't it just incredibly _funny_?" she chuckled " I think she was also ashamed of the fact that she probably presumed to have experience enough to be able to distinguish a male from a female, but see, dear" Haruka raised her hands and flung them open at both sides of her excited pale face " she had never met _me_" she concluded, pretty satisfied. Hotaru's right hand glided down on the table as she straightened herself up on her seat. She gazed at Haruka, dubious. "That's all?" "Uh-uh" Hotaru shrugged. " That's a cute story" she leant forward, concentrate mood "_but_...let me understand...that's actually what you want to do?" she frowned " uh, you don't eat them? " she pointed at the half empty chips portion in front of Haruka. " No, take 'em" she heedlessy replied. "Thanks" Hotaru took the plate and started chewing chips " I mean, you want to take your female fans one by one to your bedroom and then " she waved a pair of chips between her fingertips " 'surprise! surprise!, I'm _female_ ah ah ah' ?" she frowned " Wait. That's what you did with that green haired girl, right?" " More or less " "Ohmygod" Hotaru raised her fingertips to her forehead, closed her eyes. Haruka leant towards her, motherly smiling. "Hotaru" she whispered " do you actually believe I am _that _ fool, huh? " Hotaru opened her eyes, peeping at her. " I dunno. Maybe you're changed" she snickered. " Thanks" Haruka lovably said, she bowed her head, leaning even closer to the girl " but, believe me, girl, I am not. I have no intention of going on flirting and dumping pretty girls. Y'see, sooner or later, I'd find one who would say ' I've never given such importance to humble details' and I'd be the fucked one. That's another thing I think I hate to be. See how many things about yourself you can learn from the outer world? "she chuckled, picked up a chip, fondly handed it to Hotaru " Snap it, cute little kitten" Hotaru did, and smiled, lifting herself up. " I'm not _that_ little " she tenderly protested. " I know" Haruka chuckled, took a quick breath " see, that experience only helped me in...discovering that dodging reality isn't good at all. I can't wait for the events to crash on me. I want to select just one direction and then move straight through it, and I want to make my first step, now", she concluded, resolutely. " Now?" "Today" she lurched, bit her rose lips, her eyes glittering dark " Hotaru, I think I've to confess you something" she peeked at the girl " see, I'm actually sorry for having left you that way, though I think your father's given you much more love than I could do, and I actually wanted to meet you again and talk to you. Still...well, there's also the fact that...I need you" Hotaru frowned and smiled thoughtfully. " If you want my help in taking a decision, I'm sorry, but I can't" she said, lowly " it's your way, Haruka, and it's to be your choice, no one shall interfere" Haruka nodded slightly. " I know " she said,mellow tone " that's not what I mean" she shrugged " it's only that you're among the... living beings I love most, and, I would like all of them to be there with me now, but it is not possible, so...at least I'd like the most of them to be with me the moment I'd take my...first step of my new life" she looked at Hotaru, interrogatively. Hotaru gave her a wide smile. "I'll be always there for you " she said " so what you gonna do?" Haruka let the smile crawl outside like a candle in a stormed wood. " I'll show you" " So _that_ was it ?!" she exclaimed. "Uh-uh. Isn't it a cute idea? " "It's _cool_. I'd have never thought it by myself " Haruka sighed, sinking her hands in her pockets, she looked up at the cold first October sky and puffed out some silky vaporous waves of air. " So we go?" the cute little lady at her right side asked her, excitedly. Haruka nodded. It's going to rain, she thought. They went. They came into the unusual shop, walls covered by various drawings, of every shape, dimension, colour, kind. At first they simply stood there, two steps after the entrance door, astonished, somehow frightened. Hotaru was the first to recover and approached the painted walls, fascinated like a bee to daisies' honey. A dark haired girl came closer to Haruka, smiling. " May I help you?" It was not the kind of smile or the kind of question Haruka was expecting to have from a girl of that kind and in a shop of that kind, so she started slightly. The girl noticed, and smiled politely again. " Uh" Haruka tried to remediate " I'd like to take a look around " " Sure " the girl replied, the look of her brown eyes moving fast upon Haruka's face " call me if you need any help " " Thank you" Haruka followed Hotaru, rested one hand on the girl's shoulder. Hotaru looked up, cheerfully smiling. " Have you already seen one you like? " she asked. Haruka shook her head. " Nope " she said, looking around " I've never been here before" Hotaru giggled merrily and jumped away to the wall on the right. Haruka turned around. She was feeling awfully uncomfortable and she wondered why. She deeply frowned and managed to find an answer. She understood. She felt not like she was the one scanning the drawings on the wall. She felt like the drawings were all scanning _her_. This slightly bothered her, still, the awareness of not being her the one who's to choose, fondly comforted her. The true one would have chosen _her_. She smiled. Hotaru removed her gaze from the violet orchid ( it was colored in the same shade of violet the splinter in her left eye had, thus they were vibrating by symphaty), and she peeped up at Haruka's dark silhouette. She held her breath back for few seconds, not realizing her mystical eyes glowing wider. She looks like she's the child, she thought. Hataru smiled and moved one step toward the tall disarmed one, but she stopped. She stood still and tense like the panthera's ready to jump against her dinner in the warm chill of twilight. Haruka was standing still too, but soon, she slowly raised her right hand and slowly, very slowly, she walked to one of the walls, until her fore finger reached it, pointing at one of the pictures. Hotaru rapidly moved and came close to her. She tasted the reassuring feeling of presence/absence only silence was able to give, as they both stared at the enchanting painting. " You like it? " a voice broke in. They both turned. The dark haired girl, a polite unusual girl, was fondly looking at the blue drawing too. She slightly smiled " It's one of my favourites too. It took me three days and almost three nights to finish it, y'know, to get the right mix of colours, shades, shapes, proportions, and every single detail to be simply perfect. I'm actually proud of it" she nodded, turned and gazed to them more directly. She bowed her head, kindly, though resolutely " If you want it you can have it, just as you see it here" she pointed at it " but it'll take _time_..." she paused "and money. It's a hard job " " Money's not the thing" they both replied, almost in the same tone. The girl smiled, satisfied. " It means you want it? " she said. " I want it now. Is it possible? " Haruka replied. " There 're very few things not possible these days, and even 'bout those I guess it's just matter of time " she said " so, 'yes' the answer is" she smiled wider " Come with me " Haruka nodded and started following the girl, but the soft touch of Hotaru's hand held her back. She turned and blinked at the girl. Hotaru fondly smiled. " I'm going now" she said " or papa'd get worried" Haruka gasped, puzzled. " It's time of _your_ life, Haruka, dont' forget it. And _you_'ve to have it now. I've been happy of seeing you. Hope it would happen more often since today" Haruka smiled, still a little lost. " Sure, it will" she said, swallowed " I promise" Hotaru laughed, and happily whirled around and ran out through the door. She turned one last time, waving her had to her through the neon sign on the shop window, glittering orange and green, and soon vanished in the cold October afternoon. It did not rain. Still, when she went out, there was not twilight warm chill to embrace her. Only coldness. A perfect pure coldness. And pain. A perfect crystal of pain. She struggled to release from its intrusive grasp, but she already knew she would not be able to. She walked to her car, which was waiting for her like an old loyal Alsatian, trying not to bend down on her knees. It was not the tattoo, though. She was strongly able to recognize and distinguish the two races of pain. The tattoo was a mellow throbbing creature, carrying just the pain of flesh and blood. Something she did not actually mind. Something that reminded her she was still alive. Something she could feed herself with. This pain was one of another kind. It _crumbed_ her _inside_. She heavily sat down the driver's seat, closed the door. She hugged (stay) herself, holding herself as tight as she could. Stubborn girl she was, she (stay please stay) would not let pain just take her away from the direction she had every intention to take, and follow. She worked hard to make her (stay) _stay_. She bent down, moaning softly, tears dropping through her shut (stay with me stay forever stay and) eyelids. She lifted herself up, hardly gasping, her hands nervously moved across the dashboard, to the small drawer (stay). She opened it, and ranticly began pulling every sort of useless hings from it. Finally her fingers (I stay you stay they stay you stay) closed upon the familiar shape of the small bottle. She sighed (I stay I stay) with relief and took it out, closed the drawer. She looked through the bottle's deforming amber surface. She smiled. Her gaze casually rose to the slender driving mirror and the ghost of her, merely looking at her, pale and beautiful as always. No, actually, it was _more_ beatiful that it was used to be, correction, _she_ was much more beautiful than usual. When she was in pain. Because she was in pain. She grinned bitterly. A single tear dropped from her lower right eyelid, ran through her pale cheek, evaporate as soon as reached her burning lips. She closed her (stay girl stay) eyes and swallowed, putting the bottle in her pocket. Though she was not exactly in the suitable physical conditions, she drove away. Pain hit her unceasingly, making her hands twist and clench the wheel, but she did not yield. She could bet this was one of those things she hated. Yielding. Sure. She stopped the car, looked up at the cold dark sky, through dim lamps' light. She did not yield because she perfectly knew where she wanted to go. The direction she'd chosen was a straight path traced down before her, and she knew what followed. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. She got out of the car. Pain was stuck like an infected star in the crucial point of her body and soul. She punched her fist against the bricks wall and let it slide against it, scratching her knuckles while walking. Her body quivered and some intrusive waters grievously lied behind the velvet of her eyelids but she smiled. It was good. It felt good. She did not see the number but she knew she was arrived. That's the reason she stopped. Her sight blurred up and blue at the list of names, all unknown but one, and that's the one for which she pressed the button. She almost could feel the light of electricity whirl up from her fingertip, blew up to what should be the seventh floor. Her hand mercifully glided down as she waited. While waiting, she breathed. She delighted herself in the serene rhytm of her lungs, and the solitary beating of her heart. She closed her eyes. The invadent light abruptely swithced (stay) on and shone against her face, creeped through her eyes closed. She blinked, slightly smiled. A telecamera. Of course. The main door magically got open. Stay, it said. She closed her eyes again. She could not go back now. She didn't know whether she was relieved by _this_ awareness, or if she's scared about it, but as she recently had estabilished that she hated being scared of anything, she decided to feel just fine about it. The actual trouble was that she was not feeling fine at all. She came inside, the pain shoot her, and she leant against the white clean wall, crumbling, ferociously biting her lips. She walked on, step by step, through stairs, holding the banisters. Suddenly she turned her head up, and glowed her perfect smile. 'Hello' he did not say. " Hello" she said, merrily, coming inside. She took a glance at the tidy short corridor and the light coming from the room on the left. A piano music was lowly resounding from it. ' You find me !' he tuned with the clever motion of his fingers. She frowned, bowed her head. " Mmm..'t has not been that difficult" she said, amused tone "expecially considered that I know your address" He silently laughed, raised one hand before her, and nodded. 'Yes. But the one who settled civic numbers here had seemingly eaten hallucinogenic mushrooms !' She smiled wide, raised both her eyebrows. " Yes, actually, they're a little messed up" she narrowed her deep blue eyes " but certainly it has been easier than finding out an e-mail well buried like mine" she said, slyly. He shrugged, shaking his head. ' There's nothing actually private on the Net, girl, at least for those who know where to look' Her quick sight moved like a velvet glove on the wall. White, polished, no pictures nor even frames. " Lurkers like you?" she said, provocatively. He gaped, pretending an offended mood. ' Professionals, like me' he stated, severely ' I usually obtain what I want, y'see' Her left eyebrow raised up, she looked at him directly. " Really? " she asked, sinuous tone. He mused for a moment, bit his lips. 'Nope. I'm just deluding myself' he frowned, worried 'what've you done to your hand?' he bent down and claspled her right hand. The touch made her shiver so wildy that she believed to be about to give up a shrill cry. " Uh, nothing " she nervously said through the quivers of her lips " I..fell" she nodded as to give credibility to her lie. ' You've to treat it someway. Come with me' "Uh no" she vainly protested while he gently dragged her through the corridor " it's nothing, I don't need-" and she found herself in a tidy white bathroom, looking at him searching for first dressings for her cuts. She lowered her gaze upon her right hand, the touched one, the scratches red and dirty of copper grains from the bricks. She bit her lips. Her eyes moved fast, as to detect them, each tiny wrinkle. That was probably how she noticed he held her hand a second time, without reaction of sort from her. Her eyes detected his hands too, for the second time in the millenium. Beautiful hands, she remembered. She recovered quickly. "I think I can do by myself" she murmured. He lifted his head up and stucked his limpid amber eyes into her liquid blue eyes, confused. Good eyes, they were. She smiled. He did too. ' Imagine that' he hesitated ' you seem to be cold' " I am" she breathed out. ' What about a hot chocolate?' Her eyes swam softly into a darker mood he could not perceive, and she bit her lips and nodded. Her sight dwelt upon him leaving the bathroom, closing the door, and her scratched right hand franticly clenched the wash basin, (ohstaystaystay) as she was no strong anymore. As she was disarmed and lonely like a lonely child. She bit her lips stronger, ( stay NOW) and turned, let the water rush down against white porcelan. She searched her pocket and clasped the small amber glass bottle. She took a couple of pills from it and swallowed them with water, eyes deeply shut. The wicked shadow of pain disappeared, but it was only an absurd joke, she knew. It would be back again. She cleaned her hand's cuts accurately and dressed them up with few plasters. Thoughtlessly, her glance fell on the dazzling ghast in the mirror. Beautiful, she was. "Damn" she hissed. " Oh please, couldn't we be not that formal, huh? " she smiled sweetly "come on, I've a special feeling for kitchen, Thad, you know" she chuckled, sitting down on the small sofa. He stood before her, grimacing. Behind him, on the cupboard, a small stereo's playing. She was right. It was piano music, tracks from an old motion picture. "You won't take me to the _living room_, dear. Give up. You know how stubborn I can be" she added. He opened his arms wide, turned back to the cooking range upon which the chocolate was getting prepared. She smiled, pretty satisfied. The kitchen was of the same light white of presumably all the rooms. Emotionally correct. The colored notewas given by a vase of yellow narcysses, and the marine blue sofa on which she was sitting. Her legs were too long for sitting on it comfortably but she did not mind. He turned round, his left arm bent behind his back, a weird expression upon his face. ' You promise you don't laugh, right?' " Thad, if you tell me 'Don't laugh' I will laugh even if there's nothing to laugh about" she reasonably said. He rolled his amber eyes, and shook his head. ' So you have my permission to laugh' he slipped the mug from behind his back and handed it to her, with a polite gesture. She rapidly raised her fingers to her lips, and bit them in order to not laugh, but it was not enough for make him not to notice. 'Please' he pleaded ' it's my niece's gift. Directly from Disney World. It's original , y'know. See? Original Disney's first drawings for Mickey the Mouse' he enthusiastically pointed at the cute sailor mouse. " Okay okay" she said " I understand" she took the mug filled with hot chocolate, with holy respect. He nodded, turned round and sat on a rather high stool,the only seat in the room a part from the sofa, clasped his hands. Haruka blew softly upon the hot dark surface, curiously glanced at him. She paused, meditatively. " You don't keep me company?" she asked. 'Nope' She smiled nicely. " Why? You don't like chocolate?" He shrugged ' No, that's not the point. It's...' he wavered, shuffled his left foot 'it's the only mug I have here' he blushed. For some weird reason the thinking slice of her brain refused to be surprised by that. She lifted her head up, narrowed her eyes as the vaporous fragrance of hot chocolated strained through her dainty nostrils, waved upon her pale face like a warm gentle breeze. " Why? " she pronounced that single word as a prophecy, and took the first sip of chocolate. He gazed at her as serious as she was. ' It's not _my_ fault, girl. See this flat? It is not my actual home. The flat where I lived before, the one where I lived with Anne, was wider and more elegant too. This's one of my shrink's great ideas. First idea, if you cannot possibly _fill_ in a wide space, 'know, you'd better cut down the empty space around you. And second, you'd have one chair, one fork, one glass, one plate, one mug, one etcetera etcetera, understand?' She nodded, vividly concentrated. " Great idea " she said calmly " it works too ?" He did not respond immediately. ' Do you think that I am back to normal?' his fingers slowly danced, he shrugged and sighed at the same time ' but all considered, they weren't that bad ideas. The other house felt so empty expecially the first days...and the 'one-of-everything' thing works pretty well, at least until your only plate goes broken-' " Or you have a guest for a hot chocolate" she continued. 'Precisely' he smiled. Heedlessy she nodded, and the smile slipped very naturally out on her lips, plunged with them into hot chocolate, while her dim blue eyes looked beyond. For a brief time, he simply sat witnessing her presence in a contemplative mood, then suddenly his slender fingers began lively tapping upon his knee and he leant forwards. 'Haruka? ' his hands waltzed her name in front of her face. Charming, it was, the way it resounded in the polished shapes his fingers played. She rose her eyes. " Yes? " she quietly replied. ' You have not come here just for a visit, right?' he frowned 'I may be wrong but I had the clear impression like you've to tell me something' She stared at him quiet and still, like childishly confused. Then suddenly the paleness of her face brightened and " Oh! " she exclaimed " yes, I was forgetting" she smiled an enchanted smile " I _did_ it! " she sipped her chocolate, gluttonously licking her lips. 'Really? ' he enthusiastically asked, then frowned ' uh, did what? ' She took a delicious sip of chocolate and chuckled. " The turn, the step I was talking you about yesteday" she smiled wider " I _did_ it" ' So what?' he insisted. She bit her lips, looked gingerly up, tasted another sip of chocolate. He instinctively looked up too, and was almost surprised when he found out nothing but the usual white ceiling. " I'll show you" she said so abruptely that he started. She put the mug down on the table, stood up. She slipped her shirt out of the trousers on her right flank, carefully took off the protective gauze, leaving it bare. " Here " she tuned, with a cospiracy tone. He blinked, and, gaping, leant closer. He breathed her subtle, light, sweet, clean scent. Soap, it was. Soap and another fragrance he was not able to identify. And a subtle feverish perspiration beneath his fingertips, which granted the scent with a wild note. 'It's...beautiful' his hands tuned in spite of his lips, and his fingers skimmed her pale skin, a little reddened about the tattoo powerful magical shape. He did not actually touch it, but she could feel his fingertips radiate close about her. 'Does it still hurt ?' he asked solicitously. " Nope" she answered. He lifted himself up, smiling. ' It's wonderful' he said, completely charmed ' I never actually considered tattoos a kind of art, but this...is actually magnifique. Great. It is a cross between a unicorn and a mermaid, isn't it?' " Yeah" she said, low voice. ' So you've ..._engraved_ on your own body that you've taken your turn and you won't ever get back' he smiled ' even better than a knot in your handkerchief' She softly chuckled, ran her hands through sand short hair. She felt exhausted, she absolutely needed to rest. "Yes" she said, though she knew she was soon about to (die) cry "yes" choking a bitter tear and (ohstaystay) bitterly laughed. She let herself fall on the sofa again, and sat this way, hand lying between her longest legs, few short sandy locks tickling her pale cheeks, only eyes and lips burning rose and blue. She stared at nothing. The piano notes filled her eyes, their vibration glistened. Her hands slowly raised to her face as she buried it into them. Just for a moment, then they ran again through her hair, and fell lazily on her lap. He frowned. She was not healty, she was in pain, and it was so clear. Suddenly her silence hurt him more than his own. He quivered and leant forward, snapped his fingers in front of her vacant eyes, with delicacy. She started slightly, rose her eyes. He gave her a smile. A good one. And good eyes. She warily smiled. 'Girl..' his hands moved carefully 'girl...what's up?' he catched her deep blue glance between fore and medium finger, and she laughed a little, anxiously. " Yes" she repeated, swallowed once, twice. She licked her burning lips, vaguely aware of the shine in her eyes, her fingers flew to her lips, were captured between young teeth "Yes, I know" she breathed out, "it's that I...think " she nodded to herself " yes I think" she paused. The music, music meant for gods, trapped her. She closed her eyes. No, she was not. She was not thinking. She was not just phrasing a conception, a weird idea. She was about to wave out a feeling. It was different. The smile, _her_ smile glided out, tossed off her pale hands. " I want to be a woman" she said, her forehead frowning with sorrow, she opened her eyes again, slowly, inhaled deeply "I know it I know it, I _know_ it, my God, at last" she grinned bitterly " but I can't" she blew out softly, her hands twisting in her lap, " everytime I try, I can't. I can't. I'm afraid I will never be. Everytiem I try, pain haunts me. Oain haunts me from th inside. My mother haunts me, from the inside, I dunno, I dunno, whatever it is I can't. Maybe it's just me, yeah maybe it's just me. I do haunt myself. My own private persecution" her head flopped between her restless hands and fingers "But I _have_ to be _something_, and right now" her voice quivered as she bit her lips "once I wanted to be just free to be anything I desired at the moment I desired to be it, so I chose to be nothing, so that everytime I could change, I didn't want to fit in a shape, a preformed ego, built for me by someone else, thus I didn't want to be a woman as well. I hated to be a woman, it was the sense of predetermination and compulsion this body gave, and to be sure and aware my mother had been right, cause had I become a woman I'd have been just like her, but now... now that I really _could_ choose what I want to be by myself, and as I definitely _have_ to choose, someday, to be _something_, then, well, _yes_, I'm sure I want to be a woman, and though I know I know that it all depends on me, that I could be a woman and still different from what I don't want to be, now I'm but afraid I could no longer do"she sighed "but I truly want it. I want it. Most of all" she exhaled softly. She lifted her head up and looked at him. Her smile was sweet and filled with sorrow. But beautiful. Most of all. A wrinkle of thoughtfullness sprung between his amber eyes, as his mouth opened in a smile. He was so deeply soaked in his particular contemplative mood, that he almost did not realize the music changed again. They were strings after a storm, and a heavenly voice. He did not obviously recognized it rising up, but he surely touched her, instead, touched her for the very first time in the millenium. " I'd wish I could help" he said. The words, pronounced with rusty, for so long abandoned voice, unconsciously poured down his lips, and touched her, touched the crucial point of her body and soul, touched the pain. Her eyes glistened a deep gloomy blue. " Thank you " she said. And she smiled. They both did. End of Chapter 9 Again, any comments go here e.bosco@areacom.it finished on 17/01/98 released on 30/01/98 (y'see, it's now or never) So here I am, again. UNPREDICTABLE NOTES (Please, read) 1) I guess this is kind of a gloomy story, and, see, I _extremely_ enjoyed writing it. So that. Don't say I didn't warn you, 'k? Blame me. 2) One Chapter. Nine main parts (the first is cut in two parts more, but you'll guess it, anyway). Distinct by nine quotes. Nine Senshi. Does this ring a bell ? 3) Approximately, there's one paragraph"e for each of the Senshi (dead&alive) . Why 'approximately' ? And you actually think I'm gonna tell you? 4) Nope. Just go reading the story. Please. 5) In the first(and last) paragraph you'll find a not-SM character. She's Faith, and you're not supposed to know anything about her. I have ALL rights upon her, so don't take/use her anywhere anyway. It'll result as a ridiculous futile pathetic attempt, anyway, as I'm not telling you anything about her, a part from her name (which is not even her real name, haha!) 6) I'm wearing a crimson pajama. And I'm sleepy. 7) People, details will KILL the story. 8) So, and still, if you actually want some more feel FREE to mail me your questions, doubts, comments, suggestions, and etceteras at e.bosco@areacom.it 9) Or better than anything else JUST USE YOUR IMAGINATION !! 10) Good night, people. God bless you all. PREDICTABLE DISCLAIMERS Sailor Moon's names and characters are copyrighted by Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha, Toei Animation, and some/many others. The little quotes I'm putting at the beginning of each chapter (and through it,like for the "Spirit of Stairway" passage; the 'words' are taken from the "Death:HCofL" introduction, by Tori Amos. One of the most intelligent and touching passages I've ever read) are copyrighted too, by their respective, dead or alive, authors. Everything's used without the permission of any of them. Please, do not sue me. This story is copyrighted too, anyway, by MYSELF. You don't try to copy me, as I have not copied anyone else, okay? Thank you. SINCERELY GIVEN THANKS to Takeuchi Naoko, without whose involuntary contribution nothing of this would have happened Reese, the SM Fanfics' writer, writing to whom I decided to write this. - JON CARP- For being himself. For Pain. For Lovers. For The Story. For Secondary Characters. And for the other stories which hopefully will come. For reading this. For his patience and support. Thank you thank you thank you. To Alicja, who has been the very first to send a comment to my story, strengthening my will of writing this. To LeVar Bouyer, who made me know e.e.cummings, great poet, and (without knowing) helped in finding a quote for the Rei's part. To Tori&Neil&Dave, who've always inspired me in a way (even before I did know them). Truly&Respectfully&Gratefully. Of course. To all who have read my story and be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this. To Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Immora, Haruka and Michiru Fanfics Page's owners , Jackie Chiang, Michiru Kaioh, and my insane friend Heaven, who're posting this for me. See for their sites' addresses at the end of the chapter. Let's go, now. A SM Story rated: PG-13 PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 10 TWILIGHTS that is THE GIRLS' WAY Part 1 of 1 - DISAPPOINTMENT (that is, Setsuna's question) " figure it out she's a goodtime fella too bad the burial was premature she said and smiled " Tori Amos She walked through the corridor, as slowly as she could, and folded her arms across her chest. She puffed softly. She had been thinking about what to say, and how, approximately for the whole night, still she wasn't feeling safe. In the end, she'd decided for the truth. The truth. Truth was that fear was gripping her heart like a snake. She swallowed and stopped by the half open door. She gingerly peeped inside the room. She licked her dry lips and walked in. Some heart-touching music was playing. From the open window, through the blinds, she could smell the scent of the sea. She had always been deeply impressed by the room. No bright colors, except from the elegant fishes in the aquarium, not much furniture, except from a sofa, a low table, some tidy shelves filled with old books, and a Liberty lamp. And everything placed as to accurately dodge emotions. But the detail which used to touch her in an intense way, was stillness. The stillness of objects in the room reminded her something she had seen just a couple of times, not more, in her long long, former life. It looked like perfect stillness of life itself, like a glimpse of stillness caught through a mighty storm. She looked around, narrowing her purple eyes, mentally searching for the right memory, and, as a consequence, right words to define it. It was, indeed, like time had been frozen, by someone, there. By someone powerful. Very powerful. She smiled slightly. A serene dim light glided inside through the blinds. Impossible to know whether it was dawn or twilight. On the other hand, the lights and watery reflections from the aquarium sank the room in an azure fickle dusk. Particularly, they moved, like tender waves, upon the face of the woman who was feeding the fishes. The woman was standing close before the big aquarium, her left leg bent and leant upon a chair. A black kitten was quietly looking down at the fishes swimming close to the surface, from one of the shelves, wide curious green eyes. The new comer bit her lips. " I think we have to talk " she said. She waited. The other woman did not move. Eventually she stopped feeding the fishes. Slowly, Faith turned and gazed at her, unemotional meditative scaring eyes. Then, as slowly as it came, she removed her gaze from her. She turned to the aquarium again and kept on feeding the colored fishes. She softly tapped upon the small yellow box, waited for the fish to swim up to catch the various crumbs, she softly tapped again. Like reverence to a heathen ceremony. " No " she replied, quietly " I don't think so" Part 2 - THE MOOD THAT PASSES THROUGH YOU (that is, Minako) " If you're in a good mood, don't worry. It won't last. " Boling's Postulate She held the glass in a more comfortable position for her arm, slightly pressed upon the slender turn of her right clavicle, her hand softly supporting the right elbow. She took a sip of her drink. High, compulsive spirits bit her tongue, whirled down through her throat. Her breast rose and relaxed in a deep sigh. She folded her arms, in the warmth of the room, across her chest, and stared beyond the wide window, at twilight strewing its magic spell over the city. She smiled. For quite a moment she just closed her eyes and tasted the heart-moving serenity she still could feel, sometimes. Though it had become harder and darker, these days. Thoughtlessly, she wandered few steps around, scattered aside by her bare feet, bumped into the low crystal table, and slumped down, without offering any resistance, just a peaceful little cry. She crashed down, her face buried in the ram white carpet, longest blonde hair shattered all around her fragile body. A smooth shiver called her back and she rose her face, several soft locks of blonde hair tickling her forehead and pale lips. She vaguely realized the quiet dropping of things on her head, quickly rolling down through her back. She blinked as to regain focus for her blurring sight. The glass was softly cradling before her, vodka soaking the carpet. And pills. She watched at them, amazed. Pills. Mostly, they were shaped as small slender cylinders,then pink pills, red pills, green, yellow pills, all running down the crystal table, dancing across the marble floor or being captured by the carpet. Several pills. Various pills. A single phial fell headlong from the low table. She rushed her right arm to catch it, but too late. It smashed on the floor, shedding the white powder around. Her fingers frantically quivered to rescue it, an evil splinter of glass snapped them, and she drew them back. (whoops because snippets and the black are no stitches) She stared at the scarlet blood. A vivid sob (just for a miracle a true one) curled up from inside, stirred her up, (a form a work a who) sounded limpid from her thin body. (girl what have you done girl) The spell was broken. (one by one two plus two) Twilight strained over the planet, like amber tears glide from pines, trapping tiny black insects. (like you) Like me. (likeyoulikeyoulikeyoulikeyoulikeyoulikeyou) She sobbed miserably. (one day don't use words you don't understand) She snatched out the splinters and dried up the blood upon her cheeks. She slipped her (because you know you know GIRLS well girl bad things happen sometimes) left leg out from the velvet emerald long dressing gown (and sometimes is everyday so you stop) she wore, and massaged her knee, kissed the wound, as she knew (thinking the morning thinking past time) she could never touch the one of her secret box, inside. She once (no but a dangerous woman) had possessed the key. She (there's nothing I can do but can't stop) had lost it, though. She wiped her tears upon (can't stop what's coming) the tapering knee, she picked the empty (can't stop) glass and stood (dreaming) up. She staggered to (me the one related where you find the Monday it was) the window, opened it, got out into the comforting chill of twilight. (twenty-four by four) It bit her lips. (one hundred and four but maybe more) She was shivering already, anyway, (she should have know the fastest falls) shivering in small pieces. (sure it was more but boys don't know simple rules) She slowly walked through the balcony, sweetly (filthy are and miracles should happen more often) dragged the stool next to the granite railing. She carefully (a schizophrenic mania) rested her dainty foot upon it and mounted it. And she stood up (but a schizophrenic would say) on the railing. The wind passionately swung about her, (roses are red violets are blue I am schizophrenic) disrespectfully running under (and so am I do you) the velvet emerald gown, gently lifting it up, whirling around (do you feel it) her slender ankles, and bare feet, already numb with cold. (yellow birds flying) It cut off her breath with silky gloved (and they found her body) fingers. She swallowed, tried to ask (not sure but I'm sure) for forgiveness. Her blonde hair, blandly tied with a scarlet ribbon, wrapped her thin body. A sudden new quiver (but can you do you feel when demons run towards) fiercely ran through her (do you feel the demons running through) shoulder blades, slight variation on (you) the monotonous theme of her shaking body, and her (my my my) fingers twisted upon the glass' dull (heavy clouds and me) surface (and maybe) as she (me) raised it up to (me again me ) her chin and cheeks and (me and again) she pressed (me) lips upon it, (poisonous like holly bears and Peter's dobermanSTOP) her pretty face painfully twitched as the glass glided up (or narcysses my flowers) to her forehead and she began to repeatedly hit it (cause she likes flowers) against her (she truly loves) head (but oh _please_STOPstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop) and she rocked back and forth within the quiet (I know you're lying) crawling of twilight, shut off (you sometimes just lose control) her eyes, managing (but would you love me as much as I do) to stuck the thick (make me a tree a breeze a not well tuned harp note) hailstorm (a killer wish) of her brain to a rough full stop point. (but it's not sane) She (or maybe it's just) clenched her teeth (me) and, inwardly, she (again you know about guilt) snapped out and lifted her head up, the glassy shell she was holding still pressed against her right temple. Her blue eyes flung open wide, got dazzled by the first night lights, the splendour of the city wearing its diamonds, like mirroring, or competing, with the sky. She looked vaguely up. " Guilt ?" she repeated, seemingly unaware of the fact she was speaking out loud. She frowned. " Who's talking about guilt? Did I ?" she mused " Oh, yes. Sure.'t is you. " she chuckled " But 't was not necessary to make so many words, don't you think? " she lowered her eyes, staring at the city, at golden twilight, and beyond. She gave up a light smile, a weird smile, still a quiet smile. " Guilt..." she repeated again, almost reverently " what a stupid thing " she sighed briefly " I do not feel guilty " she resolutely said, " should I ? " and quickly looked up as to find any disappointment about her words right in the sky. A second smile fizzled about her lips in half a second " No, of course not. It has not been my fault. Was it? No. Was it me to throw the magnificent Steinway down ? No. So why should I ever feel _guilty_? I'm not a fool. How could I feel guilty of something I did not? " she took a deep breath, " See, I think that if I'd ever long so much for feeling guilty , I' ll just simply _do_ something of which I could feel guilty " she giggled, contemplatively " And you know why? Because I _can_. Anytime" she smiled "Look" and she slowly moved the glass away from her skin, twisting her wrist. She looked at it with intense emotion, held it with three fingers before her face, sweet anticipation creeping through her lips. She lowered her eyes, looked down, attentive. Wrinkles of concentration got painted upon her forehead. She narrowed her eyes against the eternal blowing of the wind, and carefully scanned other balconies, windows, plants and flowers, street and sidewalks. People. Good or bad, slow and fast thinkers. All walking home for dinner. Her mind worked with fast calculations. Height. Wind. Acceleration. Speed. Impact. With one quick twist of the three fingers, she released the glass from the grasp. She followed it falling with morbid fascination. Her body bent slightly down, wind and hair wildly wrapped her, threading to drag her down, but she did not perceive. She only paid attention to the glass, and its impetuous fall. It shattered on the pavement, skimmed a passer-by's nose. End. " Shit!" she hissed, clenching her refined jaw, punching her fist against her left thin thigh. She whirled upon herself and swiftly leapt down the railing, boring disappointment blowing in and out her dainty nostrils. She walked into the flat. She folded her arms in the dusk of the room, across her chest. " Gotta WORK on it " she muttered " gotta work a LOT" (what if love is a red dress) She stopped few steps far from the (or a rose a single rose) still open window. She felt the chill of twilight gliding across her back, like swans (would you wait for me or but remember) in flight. She grimaced, shutting (remembrances of yours) her eyes. (that I have longed long to redeliver) " Oooh, SHUT (things we swore) UP!" she opened (love me like ivy streams) her blue eyes wide and they casually met their (can't blame thyself) reflection in (but believe none of us) a casual mirror hanging (crimson water heavenly waves) from the opposite wall. She closed (arrant knaves all) them again, sighing. She wiped them, (go thy ways to a nunnery) furiously " You LIE" she spitted out "Lie lie lie lie lie (thythythythythythythy) lie lie lie (arrant knaves you all) lie lie lie lie (either angels) lie lie " she (crawling between earth and heaven) mumbled, softly shaking (and when we fall) her head, with one hand (tell me babe when we fall can you feel the hit) massaging her forehead, the other like holding (can you feel the break) up a strained, tenuous (and do you feel alive) body. She moved few steps around. (and which part of your body feels the ache) Both her hands (when angels fall) ran to her face (for I see what I see) as she buried (woe me) it into them. (me) She struggled, drawing back (whisper that secret to your mind and listen) from herself, curling up like a child. Her fingers twisted (not that difficult to understand) against her lips. (just quick and easy babe) "NO! " she shouted, furiously, releasing her mouth from the grasp " No. It's not TRUE! And you're A _LIAR_!!" she heavily breathed, she licked her lips, drawing slowly back, looking up at the light green ceiling. Her hands clasped her own neck, scratching the delicate skin with polished nails. She bit her lips, swallowed once " And I don't believe you" she said, harshly, looked down " I don't believe in you". She lifted herself up, took an empty glass among several which were standing on a cabinet, filled it with two kind of liquors. She slowly moved across the room and flopped down on the lavender colored sofa. She pushed a pair of cushions under her neck and shoulders, as to find a more comfortable position and made the glass gently waver between her fingers. She stretched out a hand and explored the floor. She picked up a pill, a single pill, _any_ pill. Pink. She looked at it with faint interest, and put it upon her tongue, with delicacy. She gulped it down drinking the tricky mixture. She grimaced, staring up at the cold greenish ceiling, she narrowed her eyes, resting the empty glass against her breast bone. She raise one arm and bent it behind her neck so that she could feel the delicate pressure of numb fingertips through her hair. Her hair, shed upon the lavender sofa and emerald gown, like gold dead leaves. She snickered. " Am I a poetical girl or am I not ? " she softly mused. She sighed. " Then what? " she said, "my, we were just..." she waved her free hand, she managed to concentrate, "_talking_, yes, talking, talking while walking, walking while talking, my, is that..?" she paused, frowned deeper " just talking about I don't actually remember what we were talking about but we were talking so no let me I imagine we were talking about see it's not that difficult and you know why? Because I _can_. I perfectly_can_ imagine what we were talking about " she giggled, " I presume we were talking about usual useless things, trivial everyday subjects, what y'believe a pair of two girls ever would talk about, we were talking about men, y'know, they _need_ to_believe_ they _actually_ have some _relevant_ role throughout the affair-" she waved her hands and arms sprightly around, through the early October afternoon, the yellow sun stuck high into the blue blue sky. She was seriously compromising the sidewalk flow's smoothness with her body's enthusiastic gestures, but she did not mind at all. She _was_ Aino Minako, and was a professional in this kind of things. And while common passer-biers did their best to dodge her, her taller friend, did her best to pretend she was there by chance. "-leading the dance, understand ?" she said sardonically " Y'know, Mako-chan, the hunter and rabbits thing " she chuckled. " Rabbits ?" Minako grimaced, with light disappointment. " Y'know, maybe you'd understand it better, were you not so busy in pretending you do not know me _at all_" she tried a mean expression and with hands mimed a gun " Hunters and rabbits, Mako ! BANG BANG !" Makoto rolled her eyes and sighed. " Hares, Mina, you mean hares" " Oh dear, pigeons rabbits hares who cares. It's the same. But the _idea_, Mako, the_idea_ is important. You got it? " " Yay " Makoto sighed again " If I understand well, you're kinda saying I should just sit and wait for the 'hunters' to wake up and look for me, right?" " Yeeees girl, cool girl, sharp girl, cleeever clever girl" she giggled " come on, people, happy people, clap your hands! " she clapped her hands, jumping around " Come on, all you _lovely_ people ! " she exclaimed, exhilarated. She stopped, her pretty face getting serious. She poked a finger at an innocent guy, passing by. " YOU, man " she frowned at him, slightly scaring him " _why_, man, tell me honestly,_why_ aren't _you_ clapping your hands with me? Don't know who I am ?" her eyes popped wider " Uh-oh! Don't know _how_ to _clap_ your _hands, sweetie? " she laughed, friendly smacked him in the back, " but it's _easy_, mate, just look at me and mime, 'k? Clap clap like this, y'see?" she looked at him, hopeful. He looked back at her, puzzled, and did nothing. She gave a sudden shrug of annoyance " Ah! Hopeless case" she turned at Makoto, investigating eyes " you _are_ able to clap your hands, right? " " Don't mock me, my friend" Makoto turned to her kind of an indulgent glare " You ought to know it won't work" Minako laughed out loud, drew her head slightly back, she bowed it over her shoulder. " What? Mockin' you? It _always_ do work, Mako-chan. One of the few pleasures I borrow from life " Minako shrugged, grimaced. " Of course, it always will depend on _you_ " she smiled at her friend, tenderly " You do not actually expect any man to take any initiative, don't you? They would have gone _nowhere_ without women, y'know, just because they could not handle with enterprises. Those are the game rules, so. You've to play with their urgency of having you, because they do _need_ a woman to move on, no matter how rudely and strongly they'd deny it, they _need_ a woman to feel complete, and to really _be_, somewhere, anyway. But they won't ever confess it,not even before their very self. Remember they always_ cry for _mummy_ before they die. But never, say, never, could admit the disturbing sentence about how much a woman is needed in order to fill their piteous lives, and to make them something which could actually _deserve_ the name of life. But I'm wandering. I didn't mean to, sorry. What I_mean_in short IS: no matter how much hare you'll be, _you_'ll always be leading the dance. Understand? You just go...camouflaging it. You just make them..._believe_ they do actually hold control, make them _trust_ the idea, and then you _be_ the ruler. Play with their urge to find you and possibly be sure to possess you, and then go possessing them. Girl, _you'll be the _leader_, though they won't _know_. Isn't it simply fabulous?!! Isn't that what hares or foxes actually do, anyway? Hunters just follow their steps. They believe they're so strong and cool with their high horses and guns and ferocious dogs, but see, girl,_you_ have the _power_" she blew out a quick cloud of excitement, she shrugged " but for a beginning, yes, just sit and wait, of course" Makoto blinked, stunned, she cleared her throat once, " Minako" she started, patiently " you ought to see this could work with you, but not with _me_" " Ooooh, I ought _this, I ought _that" Minako folded her arms, grimacing softly " I _want_ a cherry-pie, true, MAN, but I oughta do_nothing, Mako-chan " she exclaimed, more severely than seriously " Explain this doubt of yours briefly, sweet lady , just _drive_ it out, you'll feel better, then " she whirled her hand before her mouth " You can express it with your own words, or any Thesaurus', just be quick and easy, my stomach's groaning" she drummed her fingertips on elbows and resounded a quick tap of her right foot on the ground, impatiently. " Mina, what I mean is simply that you're on Vogue's August front cover But _me_? I could just sit and wait for three more millenia and no one will notice. Quick and easy? " she grinned bitterly. Minako returned the grim grin. " Quick and easy, lady, like a pie in the sky." she inhaled deeply " Well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the AWESOME world of SELF-DEPRECATION, where EVERYONE, I say, EVERYONE has his bitter grim dull minor place, and HERE... ta-DAAA!! We have our AMAZING Queen!! Everybody rejoice!! " she stopped " No. No no no no no, wait. Let me understand. You said...uh, yes, you said" she nodded. She turned, clasped Makoto's shoulder between her fingers and got on the tips of her toes, as to look at her straight in the eyes. " Makoto, now, _listen_to me" she said, low quiet tone " Listen to me carefully, okay ? And you do not distract in the middle of my phrasing and I promise I'll keep it as sharp accurate smooth as possible, see, look at me, my face, yes the face of August Vogue's cover you would say, the face no one's recognizing this afternoon, careful, read the labials, 'Mako-chan, you're one of the most gorgeous young women I know', clear? " " Quick and easy, Mina " she softly smiled " But be careful, read the labials: 'you're my very best friend, Mina-chan. You're the very best'" her eyes' deep green swung sad and bitter " And love's blinding you " Minako sighed, released the clasp and shrugged, she flung her arms open in dejection, puffed softly, scattered slightly on the left, and, for no apparent reason at all, she walked about two meters far from Makoto. All of sudden, one single instant before she perceived the vibration, strong air wings flung against her back, and she scattered forwards. Instinctively she raised both her hands before her breast, and when she looked down at them, she was actually surprised. She frowned. She had been practically sure she was going to see her heart crystal just spring out of her breast, limpid and arcane like poppies jewels. But there was not. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in her hands. Something was wrong. She wondered whether if it could be possible she had lost it, elsewhere. Maybe during the air hit, maybe she had not been fast enough. She looked up apprehensively, quickly scanned the area around for a trace, a sign, the red chubby post-box on her left and the little girl crying in her mother's arms. A man in a blue rainy-coat ran past her. That was stupid. There's sun, no rain. She shook her head, getting back to the main thought. She had not lost it there. Lost ? LOST! Possible? Here? There? So where? Had she lost it _before_? Without even realizing? Possible? Had it been stolen? _Stolen_? _STOLEN_, my? Her gaze wandered around. But who? Who would ever be interested in stealing such a trifling thing like a pure heart. Nothing, nothing precious for the world. Or maybe...it'd just been given to someone else. Someone purer. She bit her lips, forcing anguish inside. Once again she rephrased the question within her mind. She wondered whether if it could be possible she had _no more_ heart crystal inside. Maybe she had been somehow wicked and cheeky and- She stopped thinking, frowned. All of sudden she heard the noise, the variously aged ladies cries and complaint, people's bewilderment and dread above their amusing faces. She could smell the bruise in the air. Just too much of sorrow for a miserable loss like her heart crystal's should be. Slowly, she turned around. The man in the blue rain-coat was hanging from a cellular phone, shouting frantically to someone to hurry up. Beyond him, and some other troubled people standing aside, there was lying a grand-piano, glossy and black. It sure should have been a magnificent specimen, but at the moment it looked more likely like an outrageous cockroach shedding its entrails over the warm sidewalk. Up on the left, the elegant Ritz's entrance shone with a sort of gracious indifference. She moved a few steps toward it, with stiffen legs. She stopped, stared down at the shyly glimmering object, lying just between the tip of her shoes. She narrowed her eyes, felt the kind warmth of the sun leaning over her back, crouched down to take a better look. She smiled. Curious this. She picked up the tiny ear ring, between two fingertips. She had thought they were kind of unique, instead you could find them anywhere. On any pavement, for example. It was not her own heart crystal, unfortunately. Just a rose, blossomed rose-shaped ear ring which was practically identical to Mako-chan's ones. She looked up to show it to her. She saw an old woman, instead, silver haired. There was a terrified anxiety in her eyes. Minako gave a slight start, gingerly looking around. With pretty dismay, she realized her friend was seemingly nowhere to be found. She frowned, stared back at the rose. She heard a weak mourn. She turned her head to the left. She saw the pale hand twitching on the ground. " What...Mina..." Makoto moaned "...it hurts..." she closed her eyes, grimacing with pain. Minako drew herself a little back, she stared at her friend jailed by the grand dark piano with compassionate blue eyes. Slowly, very slowly, she stood up, slightly shaking her head. A wrinkle of sorrow got engraved between her eyebrows. She looked away. High merry sun dazzled her. Out of sight, out of mind, she raised her hands to protect her sight, she kept them open in front of her astonished face, though, pulled her head back like to watch directly at the sun. Eyes against eyes. Her against its. In the end, she closed her fingers upon her face, and it was dark and peaceful. And real. She stayed this way, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, few steps from the crashed Steinway, face hidden between her hands, still, just smelling street's scents. She listened to the world crawling around her close. Confusion. Air swinging back and forth, people running. Awful. Something awful. Very awful. A group of not well tuned sirens broke in. Her fingers quickly slipped off her eyes and she pressed them upon her mouth. A smile sprang upon her face as she saw the blue haired girl running towards her, followed by paramedics. She prepared herself to a tight embrace. She almost could feel the waves of its vibrations already. Much to her disappointment, the girl simply ignored her. She passed her as quick as a flash of watery light, and there was it. Minako whirled round, feeling deeply invisible for not exactly the first time in her life. It was a weird feeling. Her lips wore up a dim smile. She looked at Ami kneeling down. She knew the reason her blue haired friend was ignoring her. She was _concentrated_ , that was it, concentrated about the meticulous spinning of her brain. Nothing new, anyway. Minako had often seen her like this. Several times, through battles and just ordinary life's struggle. No matter what the world was projecting, to crumble down to hell, or to raise some of the bravehearted Sailor Suited Senshi up to heavens, once she entered this particular mood, none and nothing could remove her from it. Because that was her way of fighting. Minako moved a couple of steps towards, she stopped. People around the scene vaguely looked at her. Fools, they looked at her like she did not speak their language. A woman with a violet ridiculous hat seemingly pointed at her. Better to just look, from a distance, she considered. Ami delicately clasped Makoto's pale cheeks between her hands and bent down. " Mako-chan? " she whispered " I'm Ami. Do you hear me? Answer me, please. Do you hear me?" Makoto slightly opened her eyes. " Uuuh..." she mourned. Ami put on a little smile, she softly stroke her friend's air. " ...hurts..." Makoto grimaced. " It won't last much longer. Don't worry. Everything will be all right" Ami quietly replied. Minako licked her lips. " Miss ? " kind of a voice through her ears. A kind voice. Minako started, she turned her head to its source. A guy, with kind eyes, just coming out of that stuporous mood of hers, she knew. She blinked once. He still was there. Twice. She believed it. " Miss? " he patiently repeated " Are you all right? " She raised both her eyebrows. She enthusiastically nodded. Automatically he slightly nodded too. He probably was one of the paramedics. The driver, maybe. He pointed at that shape of randomness just fallen on the sidewalk. " Your friend? " he asked, speaking at her like she was a baby. She nodded, enthusiastically, again. Then something actually surprising occurred. He placed a chequered plaid around her shoulders and she suddenly realized she was actually feeling cold. She looked up at him thankfully. She disclosed her lips to tell him how better she was feeling now. " You " Ami abruptly cut her off and diverted his attention, she got close to him, speaking fast and resolute " Discover for which the hell reason this piano has not been removed yet. I give you twenty seconds " she took a quick glance at Minako " See her to the ambulance" He nodded " Sure " he turned to the blonde one " Come,girl, follow me" his left arm gently wrapped her shoulders. She looked up at him and she felt seized by the sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him, and as she could not fight it, she put only the tip of her tongue out and grinned slyly, hunching her shoulders. He smiled her back and drove her to the ambulance. Then, she could only imagine that he had also driven the ambulance to the main hospital, as, though she certainly was not asleep during the quick and congested trip, she did not remember anything besides the chequered plaid round her shoulders, pretty rough wool to her neck skin, and then, being sitting alone something like hours and hours and hours and hours, in a plain tidy room, Kandinskii's on the walls, annoying neon from the ceiling, just looking at the tiny rose blossom. And the thinking. A lot of thinking. And then, the bang of the door, and sweet cradling noise of wheels, and the blue silhouette, again. One of the doctors had clasped Ami's forearm and held her back. Minako could notice the blue in Ami's eyes get in battle array, slip from the woman to the girl on the stretcher. She had every intention to proceed. " No Ami-chan " the woman clasped her arm tighter, though gently " since when haven't you got any actual sleep, child? Sixteen..eighteen hours? You were here last night, I know. Please, do me a favor, child. Go home, now. You know she's in very good hands" Ami stopped. She still stared at the stretcher moving silently to the elevator, with its court of doctors and nurses. She did not turn to her mother. " I' m not gonna do any favors to anyone except to Mako-chan, and to myself, I tell you honestly, this night, mother. So, please, don't ask. I know that she's in very good hands and I'm not sure whether if my being here would make any difference. S, I think I'll stay here just for I do wish to stay. And that's all I have to say 'bout it " The elevator's doors magically got open at the end of the corridor. The stretcher glided inside. Ami bit her lips and prepared to struggle to free herself from the clasp. Dr. Mizuno sighed. " Stubborn girl " she muttered. Ami turned and gazed at her, resolutely strained blue eyes. " Have a coffee, at least" her mother released her clasp, looked at her kind of severely and mercifully at the same time " You won't do any good if you'd be dropping by sleep, trust me, child" Ami nodded, dubiously. Her mother smiled tenderly and turned away. Ami looked at her walking through the corridor, reaching the elevator. Her blue eyes sparkled with vivid envy while the elevator doors closed as magically as before, and the world of wonders she was projecting to visit disappeared beyond them. She sighed. She turned, and noticed Minako. Ami smiled wearily, and walked toward her. She crouched down before her, and rested her hands upon her knees, thoughtfully. Minako's fingers instinctively curled around the little jewel. " Well " Ami said, vague and somehow absent, " we've done our best" she frowned slightly " She lives, anyway " she looked up at Minako's bizarre pretty face " Are you all right? " she asked. Minako opened her lips, some air actually jumped into her mouth, her hands twisted once in her lap, she closed her lips. She nodded. Automatically, Ami nodded too. She got up and walked past her. Had she asked her an open question, Minako could have told her how yes, certainly, she was all right, indeed she was_fine_, indeed she felt _wonderfully_ well, indeed she felt exhilarated, she probably had never felt as good before in her whole life, and probably she would never feel as good again, because she was alive, indeed she had SURVIVED a disaster. Not a general upheaval, no earthquake or sudden sea-quakes and huge tidal waves, nor the sky'd decided to fall right today. But a grand-piano, a grand-piano had fallen not more than one meter and half from her, while she was quietly walking and talking, and not alone, like she was used to sometimes, but they were two, two girls walking and talking across a common sidewalk, and among these two, only she had been chosen. Chosen to be the survivor. Could she possibly be anything but happy because of it? Could she possibly feel anything but joy spreading loudly throughout her body? Could she- but then the tedious question came. _Why_ then? Why just _me_? What did I do to be worth it ? What did I do to not be worth having the piano fall on me, instead ? Nothing. I don't know. I don't care. It's not that important anyway. Just I was sitting in the room of safety and laughed. 'cause I was alive " she sipped her drink " and I am still. And that's what counts." she snickered. She threw the glass across the room. Part 3 - JUST TO BE TAMED ( that is, Ami ) " And lose the name of action " William Shakespeare The mouse ran in circle, stopped by the unkind pressure of her pale fingers. She cocked the left button, she let it go, the shot struck in the middle of the screen. It changed, again. She left the grasp on the mouse and started typing, quickly. "Dr. Mizuno?" The voice accompanied a light blue folder which cautiously slipped on the desk. She kept on typing. " Uh...Dr. Mizuno? " Her right hand seized the mouse and she clicked on it twice. " Dr. Mizuno?" the voice insisted. She finally raised her gaze to the pink dressed nurse. Several blue shades whirled in her eyes, all blank. " Linda " she said, stressing every word with the bitterness of nettles " You can find Dr. Mizuno in heart-surgery section, fourth floor. I'm _Ami_. _Just_ Ami. Want me to spell it for you? " she picked up the folder " The results I've been waiting since this morning? " The little nurse swallowed. " Uh...yes " " At last " she exclaimed and began skimming the file. " Uhm...need anything else? " " To be left in peace, thank you " she rudely replied. Faint stars crept before her eyes and she closed them. Drops of exhaustion were kept back by shut eyelids, she lifted her head up, sighed. " Linda " she called. The nurse turned round, gingerly. Ami opened her eyes, tried to give out a smile. She failed. " I'm sorry. " she simply said " See, it's that...I've been a little under pressure these days..." The nurse nodded, glanced at the white mug on the desk, placed right next to the mouse. " I think you should not drink so much of it " she pointed at the mug and shrugged. Ami nodded, thoughtfully, and turned checking the file again. She took the mug and sipped cold coffee. She grimaced in disgust and with a sudden motion, she trashed the empty mug, switched the computer off, moved on. Walking through the white corridors, she skimmed the tidy walls, looking up not even once, hugging the light blue folder close. Had they all been light-blue people, world'd have been an easier place to live in. She breathed quietly. One of her hands rose like for the only sake of action and fingertips started massaging the delicate skin of her forehead. She had almost lost every perception, anyway. Her senses were extremely tense, though nothing seemed to really have importance, except from _one_ thing. This was the one her brain was pointing towards. She turned right, gave a light smile to the coffee automatic vendor. A group of nurses was merrily joking beside it, and seemingly they did not notice her. She went to the light yellow door. She opened it, peeped into the room, she got in. She carefully closed the door and leant against it. She smelt the oppressive metallic scent of detergents, drugs and general cleanliness. She sighed. " Hi Mako-chan" she said, moving three slow steps from the door to the bed " How you doing, today? " She looked at the girl lying beneath white sheets and the stronghold that medical technology had built around her. Few of her brownish hair were still visible about her neck. Her skin, though, was as pale almost as the sheets, only veins gave it a bluer shade. >From the window, shadows crawled scarlet and gold, getting impressed upon the white walls like painted splinters of sky. " You don't know " Ami kept on " Of course." she nodded, meditatively. She came closer, vaguely leant her right thigh against the bed's edge. " Well, I'll tell _you_..." she held the light blue folder before herself, she opened it " Look at this. See these...values? " she handed it open at the girl " Y'know what they say? " her voice trembled. The vacuum beeping of the controller machine was the only response. It sounded like whales' farewells from the northern graveyards. She decided she could no longer bear. She bit her lips, inhaled deeply. " THEY SAY YOU'RE GOING AWFULLY _BAD_, UNDERSTAND?!" she shouted out in fiery anger, she threw the folder up in the air. Forms danced through the air. Like fair snow falling. She wrapped her arms round her body in order to stop its shaking. " Y'know what? " she hissed " I'm feeling..." she swallowed, closed her eyes, searching for the best word " a little _disappointed_ " she snickered " no, speaking honestly, I tell you friend I feel terribly SICK ABOUT IT! Like pissed off, y'know, only loather. Only filthier. How _could_ you? You don't understand don't understand what you're doing don't understand what you're feeling don't understand what.._hurts_ you but still you oh funny how you don't realize you don't think so you don't recognize I'm going CRAZY but you don't care cause you could be dead funny how you could be dead at least _once_ o you follow me, dear, do you hear me, do you HEAR ME? DO YOU HEAR ME ?" she leant down close to the comatose girl. She dangled her bent body quietly for a moment, her blue marine eyes scanning deep grey wrinkles on Makoto's eyelids, breathing with her breathing with the respirator, " Because I don't " she murmured " Because I don't " she repeated, frowned " But you're NOT _listening_ to ME, anyway, are you? You're NO LISTENING NO LISTENING TO THE WHAT AMI 'S SAYING FOR YOUR SAKE, GIRL, BUT HOW _DARE_ YOU, HOW _DARE_ YOU TO JUST _IGNORE_ ME " she stuck her hands at the Makoto's face's sides on the pillow " but you CAN'T you don't have MY PERMISSION, don't have any RIGHT, you're NOT ALLOWED, you DON'T DARE to just IGNORE _ME_" She lifted her body up, arranged her shoulders straight, gazed away. " I did NOT go wrong. I DO NEVER go wrong. You've had the best attention you could receive. You've had ME. It does no longer depends on me, though, friend. It's YOU now. But you don't LISTEN TO ME when I'm talking. I just can't save you, it's not even _divinely_ possible to bring you back, it's not possible for anyone but _you_ . And you don't. You don't understand " she grinned, sadly " Sometimes, I say, sometimes yes, I believe you just don't care " she stepped back. A beam of sunlight struck her right eye. She softly moaned, shutting it with her hand. She turned to the window. She folded her arms across her chest and walked to it. " There's nothing I can do " she said "Unless you do support my action, friend, there's nothing I can do to your rescue." Twilight was growing crimson over the horizon line. Unintentionally, she smiled. How many women on earth were being granted by a so beautiful view? Instinctively she searched the sky for the moon. She could not find it. _Perspective_, child, she told herself, borrowing her mother's voice, it is just matter of _perspective_. Never get fixed on one in particular, cause once you get fixed you'll be lost. Blood clots when exposed to the surface and pure air, so you _be_ like water flowing. River run, seas wave, never let yourself stop in just one place. _Change_. Make it _possible_ so that no one could ever step in you twice. She opened the window and slipped outside, gazing up at the sky. As she walked to the cement balcony, the sun peeked out from behind a building, red and burning like a blushing gold apple. And the moon, the moon was a joyful splinter at the hospital roof top, hanging from the rosemary colored sky. In fact. Just be a different perspective. She leant against the railings, and smiled again. She listened to her inward voice. Change is good, child. Change is always good. Change is freedom. She sat on the railing, left her legs drooping by it, checked the people coming in and out the hospital main entrance, below. Grey pavement and poplars. Not much time and a sparkling Christmas tree would be put in the middle of the courtyard. Freedom. She was born a thinker. Thinkers have not a lot of confidence with such words. They have generally lots of confidence with all words, but none in particular. Therefore, freedom was not a word only. It was an emotion, a strong one. Not easy to comprehend, not easy to think of, not easy to ignore, rather you ought to _feel_ it. That's disturbing enough for a thinker. She shuffled her feet, bowed her head upon her right shoulder. A sweet breeze waved upon her cheeks. I don't want to be free. Not if this means I shall lose all my friends. Oh no, I don't want to be free. I want to belong to somebody. I want somebody to tame me. I need to belong to somebody. Her thoughts blurred into the mist. She yawned, wiped her eyes. _And_ I don't want to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. She smiled, warily. It's just the sun. Wicked sun. Lying down, it spreads twilight through, over all the pretty people. Warm twilight through cold air. Just want to enjoy these few moments of grace. She closed her eyes, just for a moment. She fell asleep. She was not sure, was not sure at all, still she believed it had been the slight twisting of her abdomen muscles opposing gravity, the first sign, the first she actually perceived. She opened her blue eyes wide, gasping. Air ran through her lips to her lungs and collected her. She did not blow it out. I'm falling down the rail, she thought, almost instantly. In fact. She was falling down. The world looked like frozen in a single instant, position, like a phrase stuck on a single word, or a melody hanging from a single note, nothing was moving at all, colors had turned sandy and gold, and she was falling. Slowly, like the decelerate motion all her dreams' falling sequences had had, still falling. She did not waste the vital glimpse of time she had been given in searching for the appropriate last two words. " YAAAAAAAH!" she exclaimed, carelessly. Her right heel hit the thin entablature, and her hands gripped the rail. The fall was abruptly stopped, her upper body was dragged forth, rudely shaking her shoulders. She moaned in pain. Her arms did not surrender. Kind of swinging between sky and earth, she bit her lips, breathless stared at the ground. Nobody had perceived, anyway. People walking in and out. They all completely ignored her. She swallowed, clenched her teeth and twisted her fingers on the cement rail. She carefully moved her right heel on the entablature. Through insensitive nostrils, she inhaled cold air. She closed her eyes and drew her head back. " Don't worry, Mako-chan. I'm fine, I'm free. " she murmured. She smiled a weird smile. Fly or die, child? Her left elbow lurked. One quick twitch and her fingers' grasp loosened. It's your choice, child, but see, I don't think you'll be back, not this time. The day's gone. Fly or die? Think about it, thinker. She thought. She released the grasp. As her body was drawn down, she whirled, her right hand grabbed the rail tight, and she pulled herself against it. She hugged the rough cement, mounted it, jumped down on the steady side of the balcony. She panted heavily, her knees trembling. " Free " she mumbled " never again " She staggered. She ran her fingertips through her hair, bluer than tides. She came inside. The vacuous beeping greeted her cheerfully. She rather appreciated it. She sighed and smiled. She folded her arms across her chest, within the gilded aura of twilight. She stepped by the bed. She leant down over the deep sleeping girl. " Makoto ? " she whispered, sweetly " do you hear me? I'm Ami. No, not the doctor. Just Ami. Your friend " she giggled, softly " C'm on, don't be so selfish. Make me some room" She lied on the bed, curled up like a puppy, her face next to the girls', her breath next to hers, she closed her eyes, " and when you decide to come back, wake me up" Again, she fell asleep. Part 4 - SACRED SPIRITS (PASSING THROUGH) (that is, Rei) " i go to this window just as day dissolves when it is twilight (and looking up in fear i see the new moon thinner than a hair) " e.e. cummings She flopped down on the bed, hair spreading a raven blanket over it. She folded her arms across her chest and wished to be wishing to sleep. There was nothing wrong, after all. Despite the fact she was feeling pretty well. She snorted, impatiently. She began drumming her left fingers upon her forearm, with not compelling results. Not enough noise. Just a big muddle of silence. She picked up the remote control and switched the radio on. 'Jingle bells jingle bells ro-' Shift. See, I'm scared. ' I see the bad moon rising ' No. Not actually. ' I see troubles on the way' She grimaced slightly. So, I'm worried. Shift. ' do whatever you need to do ' No. Not really. Shift. ' but life without you, I don't know ' I'm disturbed. Yes. She jumped in her feet and went to the window. She stared at the day dissolving in a satin soft and purple like petals. Twilight rose beyond the old strong trees. And she could imagine a slice of moon curiously peeping to pathetic mortals, far off in a distance. Just a bubble of nothing, wearing pearl-like gloves. She blew out a wave of impatience. Futile. Resistance was futile. Any attempt to corrupt her body to force strict rules she herself had imposed was futile. Thus, she kept it rational. She stopped trying. On the other hand, she had spent a good amount of her time on earth in learning how to keep control of her emotions, so that now it could sound quite a nonsense to just say 'I'm tired of this. Let's break it all out'. Beyond faint reflections on the window glass, she looked at the golden dead leaves she patiently had gathered in bunches, now quietly ruffled by wind. She did not mind. It brought comfort to her to know she could just start again sweeping them, the morning next. She actually needed something certain, something steady, something sheltering her, reassuring her that not only everything was perfectly all right here and now, but also that everything will be fine, in the end. On the condition the end would not coincide with a deep deep sleep of her. One of those you could not be awakened from. She groaned. She definitely did not wish to sleep, now. She opened the window and slipped out. She turned left by the corner and walked to the temple back-yard, through the park of centuries old magnificent oak trees. The wind swirled unmerciful against her body, its cold will piercing her wool vest and pants. She did not shiver. The blast of cold never scared her. Nothing had ever had. She had no intention to start right now. The feeling she was seeking was of another kind. No. Outer coldness did not bother her. It was not important. A very few things actually were, and she knew which they were. She knew it perfectly well. Her bare feet stepped over the thick leaves' carpet, as she looked up at the flaming sky. Some leaves flew just before her coal black eyes. Just one swift motion and her right hand caught one of them. She whirled it between fingertips. She gazed at it, carefully. It was vaguely gilded like all its sisters and brothers, still preserved a sprinkle of green life near the neatly traced veins. She stopped by the promontory, where the boundaries of the temple symbolically joined the sky, and faded to the big city and the people it sheltered, below. Though, a railing of stone had been built there, when they accidentally had discovered that, in spite of being a place where people came just to meditate and find solace, it was running to become the favorite diving board for suicides. Pitiful choice, indeed, she though. She disapproved them with all heart. Still, it was not her right to interfere with others' wishes, and ways to grant them. Still again, twenty five people in two years was definitely a little much. She was only fourteen when they built the rail. Seemingly it had been enough to prevent further attempts. Each time she came here, she wondered why. It could be tall for her grandfather's height, but, for example, she could have easily mounted it, and jumped down. She folded her arms across her chest. She blew out a deep sigh. She rather enjoyed it. She sighed again. Boredom peeped out. She stopped. She bowed her head upon her shoulder, raised her right hand and stared at the dead leaf. Twilight glowed crimson through its phantom shaped surface, burst into her eyes. She began flaking it with the other hand, following the life dead lines until there was just a skeleton left. She curled up a light smile. She pressed the subtle thing to her breast. Please. She closed her deep eyes. Please. Please. Oh, please. She concentrated. She prayed. She felt the heat creep and grow and burn. The rests of the leaf became incandescent beneath her fingers and impressed their brand upon her skin. Fire burnt vividly against it. Eventually, tears came. Just those she was seeking. Her smile grew wider. I want to burn this night. Part 5 - SLEEPWALK (that is, Makoto) " Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start And all the trembling flowers they bear" William Butler Yeats cause I'm happy because angels are dried up in the sky and the porch's clean and straight before me and I can see my way. And because I'm here wondering trying to make a sense of it from the sunset to the ground there's no connection I can see my way and I'm starvin' I want a jester sun in a blue blue sky and ring a ring o'roses round the sun so creepy it is not but it's not exactly uncute well there it is a sort of an addiction or something vile and amazing like death. Well maybe not just me. And I've expected this from you, I was sure you wanted it too. But merciful for what it is (and what I am not) I'm here for everyone the guilty and the innocent the perverse and the naive the stubborn and the restless the good and the evil. Everyday. Yeah. Okay. Sorry. But y'know what? I'd really _love_ having a peach lollipop _now_. And I will pray for it every year, every _here_ with oak leaves under my skin and my feet wandering them around. I suppose I dreamt this. And what's a dream anyway? Oak leaves' corpses fluttering around. See I'm nothing special these days and still I'm _here_ and loving it. Oak leaves. And me. Though I'm getting a little pissed off. True they're falling falling falling and I'm falling falling falling falling falling falling falling down. Part 6 - TWINKLE (that is, Michiru) " sure that star can twinkle and you're watching it do boy so hard boy so hard but I know a girl twice as hard and I'm sure said I'm sure she's watching it too " Tori Amos She folded her arms across her chest and just stood in the middle of the room. Seven days of rain were definitely enough. She was starting to feel it very badly. Sure as bad as a bad performance. She pressed the silver mirror against her breast. She moved a few steps, in vicious circles. One two three. Four. She clenched the mirror and hugged it tighter and tighter as to make it sink again within her body. In the effort she bit her lips and closed her eyes . She moaned softly as it hurt her skin. She stopped. There's no hope. With one vivid motion, she raised it before her face and gazed into it. A twinge of grief clotted within her throat. It performed a curious angle within her soft colored eyes, blue and liquid like withering swamps. As she choked a kind of torturing sob, her (such a beautiful) face twisted in commotion, and she threw the mirror through the room in dreadful anger. She cried it out, in a piercing shriek. The mirror whirled through air, fell on the floor next to the window, the silver resounding crystalline and pure against the marble pavement. Soft white curtains danced beside it. She breathed heavily, turned away. " This would no get you anywhere close, lovey" she muttered, wearily, by herself. Feelings were streaming kind of obvious, within, anytime she checked them, these last days. Which, she meant, since the day she made the fabulous discovery. She puffed. Stupid rain. She stepped by the thin mirror wall, she bowed her head upon her shoulder. She gazed at her reflection with deep concern. She detected her ego. A splinter of dread. Evil evil rage. Happiness. She mused, narrowing her eyes. She giggled. " I never knew what it is " she frowned, " Is this the way I wanted it to be?" she asked, softly. She paused. A curious deep brief (beautiful) wrinkle of will drawn between eyebrows, she came closer. " Is _this_ me?" she whispered. Her reflection decided not to respond. She shut her bewitching eyes and turned round. A faint light crawling from above, through open window. Down, the mirror's hideous shining surface glowed quietly. She clenched her fists, rushed on, furiously trampled it. " STOP! " she shouted. It flickered back, like untouched. Damn thing. Damn rain. She went outside. Lethargic woodbine sieged the balcony's wall and granite railings. White curtains curled outside, floated in the cold twilight breeze. She looked up at the curls of grossy clouds, and through the rifts of them, the gloomy sky, painted in dark colors, and within its wistful surface, she watched for it, she looked for the star. She found it. It was, beyond the mist of water, twinkling, as always. She laced the light blue silky gown, swiftly mounted the rail. Rain dropped a cold slap on her back. She choked another small cry and shivered. A natural addiction. It did not get off her balance. Just shivers. She stood up, water sliding down upon her neck, through her wavy hair. She sighed. She folded her arms across her chest and kept staring at the star. On rain days, when both the moon and sun were covered, the star was the only light, a special gift for her. Any day, anytime, anywhere, she was sure she could look up at the sky, and it would be there, twinkling. The wind wrapped her in its smelly caress and she closed her eyes with deep emotion. But it went away. It always goes away and there's no more sun over me and my belly's cold and empty. Even butterflies, and birds too, but just sometimes, they know the difference. She gasped as her (beautiful) eyes flung open wide. She lowered her eyes, held out her arms to catch the velvet wind. Through her dainty nostrils, she could still smell it. The deep musky scent of rain merging within earth's skin. And the wind. She tried to breath it but cruel cruel rain dragged it down, drew the scent away, as with her breath. Heading down, into the whirl of the city and its vertigo, all bruising, far below. Her lips trembled as she gaped, managing to rescue her inner precious blow. Wavy locks glided upon her silky cheeks. Salty tiny droplets blossomed behind her eyelids. They got lost, like ripples within the ocean. Everything, she had lost. Lost forever. She considered the idea of following the wind. Just to fall, clutching it tight. High deep acceleration caught from it. Yes, falling down through wind and water, cut off vain bonds she had, between earth and sky. And there to become what she had been destined to. Impact, they call it. But would it be me ? Would it be ME and only ME ? She lifted her head up. The star twinkled, in response. Or maybe just fall. To fall deep. Deep to the bottom. Just fucking her life her desires her dreams happiness rage and dread everything she'd ever been and everything she'd never been. Fucking her life alone, without anyone else's help, deep to the bottom, like she'd been used to. Like she'd maybe taught to. Just to be something, anything, at last. But nope. You are not frightened enough. You are not _wounded_ enough. Yes. I'm just tired. Not enough, though. She recollected her arms to her breast, hugged herself tight, sobbing miserably. There's nothing I can do. She forced her eyes shut. But it's not fair. It's not fair. She flung her enchanting eyes open. Once more. She watched at the star, all hopeful. " Please" she pleaded " oh, please. Do it for me. Do it for me because I can't. Please, " she closed her eyes, breathing a deep breath " _fall_ " She cradled through the rain, rain sliding like honey upon her breasts. " Fall " she murmured it like a secret " do it _now_ " Her eyes flung open. Through cloudy mirrors and foggy sky, the star still twinkled, peacefully. It's not fair. Part 7 - WEAR YOUR BUTTERFLIES (that is, Haruka) " She walks in beauty , like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies " Lord Byron Her eyes flung open. She slipped from the tender sheets and quickly reached the window. Her fingertips skimmed the glass as she looked up at the sky, lips contemplatively half disclosed. It was past twilight. The liar moon shivered like a pearl set in a navy carpet of twinkling stars. She closed her lips and folded her harms across her breast, frowned slightly. She was _sure_ she saw it. 'Said I'm sure.' she bit her lips softly and turned back 'But maybe a dream' she thought. She wiped her eyes, ran fingers through her hair. She gazed at the darkness quietly floating across the room. For a moment, she considered to get back to the sweetness of the bed. And maybe wake him up. The unkind caress of a shiver scratched her back and she vaguely realized the coldness of the room. She picked up a blue sweater from the chair and wore it up. It was a bit oversized, and fell from her shoulders, leaving one bare. Thoughtfully, she moved some untamable locks behind her ears and stepped by the bed. She quietly sat on the edge and, for a while, she just stared at him sleeping. Her precious smile crept out, through the various shades of the starry night. With a little start, she remembered of her primitive purpose. Had she ever had one. She softly kissed him on his forehead and stood up. She walked to the bathroom, closed the door behind herself, switched the light on. She held her breath back, and, gingerly, she gazed at the mirror. She blew it out, mindless. Through the words, her reflection stared at her. 'It's not that he actually _needs_ a mirror, anyway' she thought, folded her arms across her chest ' He never even combs his hair, anyway. And even if he'd done, I think I would have put the words on it the same, _just_ on the purpose not to _allow_ him comb his hair. I _love_ his ruffled hair. It gives him a sense of...I dunno...but he looks disarmed and _is_ disarming at the same time. I won't ever _permit_ him to cut it or comb it either way. It would be like cutting the jewels of his eyes. Plus, he needs to shut his shiny amber eyes, once in a while, but never his hair. Even while he's sleeping. I did fall in love with it. I am in love with it as much I am in love with him right now. To give up 'bout it would just mean I give up my love. And I won't.' she smiled, skimmed the script with fingertips 'Lovable darling, having let me mist his only mirror. I can't suffer pure mirrors, though. It is something I ought to get over, I know, but still I simply feel uncomfortable with reflecting surfaces. Evil things, they are. I like misted surfaces the better. They return my beauty in a more wretched, less perfected way. So I wrote the words upon the limpid surface of the mirror. Pretty neat, I believe. Was uncertain about the color but now the vivid crimson I see I realize there was no other possible color to have them written there. The words, they are there is change in the " what is " but change cannot be made till you accept the " what is " and a little below, wear your butterflies with pride and he taught me this. In a way. Truly he just blushed like a the scarlet rose he gave me the first time, and babbled something about a secret passion, well, kind of, he had. You know, he still waltzes his hands in sign language when he gets embarassed or so and I find it so gorgeous I hope he'll do like this forever. Then, he held my hand and just led me into one of the three rooms in his flat. And I follow him like I was a child. And there were, I swear I'd _never_ seen anything like it before, not even in my house, rows of books upon shelves, and piles from the floor reaching the ceiling, all somehow tidy and he crouches down and I follow. He skims the subtle shapes of books with the reverence of a monk to his holy illuminations. His finger stops and he picks up a small volume. He hands me it, smiling. A dark lady looks at me from the cover. I frown, glance at him, kind of confused. Kind of scared too. Perhaps. I remember I had just told him about my past. My secrets. A few of them, at least. At least, the few of them I can confess to myself, now. He smiles back at me. ' L'esprit d'escalier' he says, funny how it sounds in his regained voice. I do not understand. He chuckles, open the small book and I realize it. Comics, they are. Most of them, probably. Well, I say, there's nothing wrong in having a passion for comics. He smiles and leafs through the book and points a curious page to me. I read 'THERE'S THIS THING, THEY HAVE IN FRENCH: L'ESPRIT D'ESCALIER. THE SPIRIT OF THE STAIRWAY. I DON'T THINK WE HAVE A WORD FOR IT IN ENGLISH.' I skim over ' ALL THE COOL STUFF YOU WISH YOU'D SAID AT THE TIME.' I think I gaped. He chuckled again, in response.' 'I discovered the words, later, in the evening. Eating a tuna sandwich in my kitchen, under a lamp dull light, cause I never read introductions before having finished the book, and it was about midnight when I finished it.' 'And when I feel very very lonely or, which occurs more often, just _strange_ about myself, about maybe just _being_ myself after all these years, about the myself which had been silent all these years, I come to read the words, and feel the weird feeling just slow down, blowing off my body. And I can look at my pure pale skin again through their sharpness, and feel it just natural, and as natural, good, and there's no necessity to be anything but proud about it, after all, and again I can say' " Is this the way I wanted it to be ? Is this me? " she whispered. Her reflection smiled. Yes, it said yes. 'because yes I said yes' she smiled back. Her arms got unfolded and she sighed. She switched the light off, and moved away. She stopped next to the bed again, her mind still sweetly wandering, her eyes being captured by the twinkling of stars, beyond the curtains. Silently, she opened the window, and smoothly glided out. The chill of night did not scare her. She hugged herself as to hold the warmth within her body. The sweater blue wool curled between her arms and breasts, softly pressed against her skin. She walked slowly to the railing, gazing at the sky. ' Yet I am sure. I say, I'm sure' she thought, bold like a goddess. Stars twinkle cold and pale and hard, in return. Silky and pure like satin. Silky and pure like her skin. Beautiful, they were. And she was too. Once again, she smiled, narrowing her eyes, she bowed her head over her shoulder, the bare one, her single silver pendant, hanging from her left ear, tickled it. A smoky cloud stroke the moon surface. She looked vaguely down. Dim lamps shoved a grim solitary light over the area below. She raised one of her long legs on the rail and mounted it. She stood there, her upper body still bent upon her thighs, arms clasped round her knees. She wobbled while her feet gained a secure position on the rail. She released the clasp and lifted herself up, she flung her arms open to reach equilibrium. Softly laughing by herself, she started moving them like wings. " Said I'm sure" she pronounced, softly. She moved her arms like flying. 'And when he held my hand for the second time (his eyes were still amber diamonds and ruffled his hair and I knew still uncertain but not me) I said yes I'm sure' she closed her eyes 'cause I'm in love and loving it' She raised her chin, slowly drew her head back. " Star light star bright" she whispered " First star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight" Her eyes flung open. A star fell, silently. Her heart leapt. She laughed. Yes. Because yes, I said yes. I said. Yes. Part 8 - WILL YOU BE THERE (that is, Minako&Usagi) " When they're in a pinch, when they're in a bad mood, it can be terrible. You don't want an elephant as a pet. You want a cat or a dog or a bird." a 'Williams' teen girl She threw the cigarette's rests not far from her feet. The several corpses composed kind of a ring round her. Like the sacred fire ring for an exorcism. She felt safe within, indeed, but what if she had tried to cross it? She shuddered. All around, a monotonous mantle of snow. Few trees, bared of the glory of leaves. And, behind her, the unceasing bruise of the city, dressed for Christmas. She puffed. A funny little cloud whirled from her lips, giggled before her face, flattering her turquoise scarf and short pink coat. She did not even pretend to smile. She snapped it again, swallowed it, unmercifully. She grimaced in disgust. Tender and dressed like candy floss, dressed like a little girl. She lit up another cigarette. She peeked up warily, listening. Nothing. Good fine. Good enough. Drugs were seemingly successfully supporting her struggle against her thoughtline, though there still was this annoying buzzing in the background, ready, she could say, to grow again, like pushing up the bold hamster to chase its wheel, and grow louder and louder, until it'd destroy the golden gates of consciousness. She threw the cigarette. It collapsed into the snow, melting it for a bit. She moved slightly. She knew it would come out to be a terrific mistake but she did it the same. She forced her right foot out of the mystical ring. She took a deep breath and moved all her body away from its surety. Swallowing hardly, she walked on, slowly. I'm not scared, she told herself, resolute. (oh no you are). She moved on, faster. I'm not. (you are, sweetie) I'm not. I go faster. I go closer. (you are you are) I'm not. (you are) I'm not. (you _are_) Faster. Close. So close. I'm not. She concentrated her attention to the large entrance few meters before her. (you are you) Faster faster. I'm not afraid. (you are) I'm not a looser. Closer closer. (you are) Close. I'm not a fool. Close. (you are) Close. I'm not scared. (you are) Determined and steady but close. So close. I'm not. (you are) Closer closer. I'm not. (you are) I'm not. (youareyouareyouare) " YES ! I AM!!" she shouted and stopped. Her eyes widened as she felt blood dragged violently from her face. Her hands frantically twisted by her stomach. She turned back, and prepared to rush away. A subtle voice called her. She started wildly, whirled round, seeing nobody else out there. The voice called her again, urgently. From above. She looked up, at the impressive hospital's front. A couple of long blonde tails leant out from one of the windows, second story or something, and the girl to whom they belong was sparing no efforts to attract her attention in the most discrete way. " Please, Mina" Usagi kind of cried in a low low tone " _don't_move_" she pleaded, " please please, stay where you are. Wait, I'm coming " Usagi disappeared from the window. Minako blinked, confused. Half a minute after, Usagi jumped out from the hospital main entrance, cheerful and bright girl. She rushed towards her, her blonde odangos and yellow scarf waving behind her back like flags, and she held her arm in arm. Her happy face twisted serious and kind of conspirator. " _Don't _turn _round, Mina " she murmured, leading her away " She's _watching_ us" " She who? " Minako asked, turning her head back. " NO! Don't turn! " Usagi scolded her, she turned her own head, she grinned merrily, she waved her free hand, " Oh, never mind. It's Rei. She's surely watching us" she gazed at Minako, fluttering her eyelashes " See, I told her _you_ insisted to have dinner with me...y'know had I told her I was awfully hungry and actually needed a break for dinner, she woulda never understood. Sorry, you were going to see Mako, right?" she asked, kind of troubled. Minako sighed. " Well, I guess I can wait " " Oooh, THANK YOU, Mina-chan" Usagi hugged her enthusiastically, " Hey!" she started, " Mina! You're thinner, aren't you? What is it, huh?" she nudged her, chuckling slyly " Are you in love, right? C'm on, you can tell me" " Usako, you should not judge people's happiness by the width of their hips, y'know " Minako replied, in a calm frozen tone. " Well, yes, I guess you're right. In fact I'm _terribly_ in love with Mamoru, but I still eat like a bear. After all, I'm young, and I need to be well fed! " she sighed " And that's one of the many things Rei cannot understand. Y'know, she's so...ascetic...can you _imagine_ it, girl ? It's something like _five_ hours I haven't had anything to eat ! ME !!!" Minako, who had not been able to swallow anything in the past twenty-three hours could not imagine. But she nodded, anyway. They came into a bar-restaurant, more or less willingly. Minako managed to become estranged while Usagi was practically ravaging " -and those macaroni with sauce, I don't want this classical small heap of sauce on the top, I want a LOT of sauce, they have to_swim_ within it, like in their own blood-" the menu. Even only the sound of food's names made her sick. She tapped her foot impatiently, looking out of the window. "...and a really BIIIG portion of this chocolate cake, but see, I'd like some cream on it, may I have it? Yes? Wonderful! Then a BIG portion of chocolate cake with some, no, A LOT, A MOUNTAIN, of cream on it. Uh, wait, wait... how long do I have to wait for macaroni? WHAAAT??!! FIVE MINUTES ???!!! No no no. Bring me the cake. Yes, yes, even _before_ macaroni. Y'know when you're starving like I am, you don't go splitting hairs" she grinned brightly. The waitress blinked, turned to Minako. Who gave a little start and said " Uh, a glass of water. No fizzy. Thanks" The waitress nodded and went away. Usagi drummed her finger on the table, frowned. " You haven't ordered _anything_ " she muttered. " I ordered a glass of water" " That's not a thing " Usagi shrugged " You've already had dinner? " " Nope " she snorted, forgetting to lie " I'm not hungry " Usagi frowned deeper. " Strange. I'm always hungry. Why aren't you? " Minako smiled bitterly, disclosed her pale lips to tell her friend that not everything she was used to, was to be considered universal, " Usako..." she started, but the cake arrived, and Usagi's attention was abruptly driven all upon it. " Whaaaa!! " Usagi exclaimed staring at the big looking delicious piece of chocolate cake, sinking under cream. She picked up the merry cherry leaning upon the mountain of cream and swallowed it. Minako turned up her nose. " My, Usagi, how can you eat..._that_? " Usagi rose up a smile dirty with chocolate and cream, and chuckled. " You wonder why ? Because it is awfully delightful !" she handed her a spoon of cake and cream " Want to taste it, huh? C'm on, Mina, have a _taste_! " she deliberately ignored her friends' head shaking and leant herself closer through the table " It's _divinely_ tasty, believe me, only Mako-chan's able to prepare so tasty ca-" she stopped, dropped back sitting, mortified "..uh...". A flake of cream fell from the spoon on the table. Minako giggled, kind of gaily, leant forward, picked up the spoon. " Usako...cheer up, friend. See ? I'll have a taste, okay? " Usagi peeked up. Minako swallowed the cream. She laughed. They both did. For quite a moment they had a glimpse of their past carefree lives together. Nothing bothered them. Nothing was actually wrong. Just a fragile moment of grace. Nothing broke it. But she did. As Usagi bit the cake in a not special at all way, Minako's hands suddenly twisted against the table, her nails slightly scratching it. A bad mood fell on her forehead and with an unpredictable motion of impatience, a somehow painful one, she got up. Usagi gazed at her, unaware. " Sorry " Minako said quickly, stormed away. She rushed into the bathroom, into one of the stalls, slamming the door behind her. She grabbed the turquoise scarf down and bent down as sickness overwhelmed her. She vomited, passionately. She would have purged out her heavy soul, had she known how to. With one furious motion of her left hand, she untied the red ribbon she wore and threw it into the filthy toilet. She blasted out a lunatic laughter and kept vomiting. Usagi sat through delightful flavours, resting her cheek upon her left hand. With other hand, she quietly drummed on the table. The left part of her brain was thickly thickly communicating with the right companion, and she quietly listened. She had generally been a good listener, but in this case, she was starting to feel a little disappointed by the fact they were completely _ignoring_ her. She drummed her fingers louder. The two splits of her brain drove a faint attention to her. Then, instead of being profuse in apologies to her, they allied against her. (what are you waiting, body-girl ? For a red rose to be thrown right near your nose? well, let me tell you, it won't come) I'm worried. ( sure you are so can't you just remove your ass from that seat and go to see what's going on?) I don't know. I- (you're alone) Yes. I'm alone. I'm not good when I'm alone. ( you are actually good _only_ when you're left alone, girl, you don't remember? You defeated Metallia, the Dark Kingdom, the supreme Pharaoh, Queen Neherenia, and eventually Galaxia, and all ALONE ) No, there were my friends, they were al- ( all _dead_, girl, they were all always dead and you fought alone ) But- ( listen to me, body girl, I know you better than anyone else, I'm not your conscience, which could indeed try to mislead you just for its own logical interest, I'm your _brain_, and I know) What- (you do _not_ need for anyone's support and you _can_ do it) Yes. She stood up and walked to the bathroom. Usagi peeked in, warily. She came inside. A magnificent twilight pierced air from a small dormer window. She folded her arms across her chest, approached the stalls. " Uh, Mina? " she called timidly at the agonizing noises coming from one of the stalls " Is..uh..everything all right ?" A choked laughter. " Wonderfully, Usako" rather vexed harsh voice " Never felt better in my life. I'm _extremely_ exhilarated of that funny thing that I'm alive. Wait for me out there. I'm coming " " I-I'm not sure that you're fine " Usagi murmured, softly. " Really? " Minako's hysterical voice came out " what makes you suspect that, precisely? " she threw up a raspy laughter. Usagi bit her lips. " Please, Mina, let me-" " DIDN'T I MENTION I WANT YOU TO WAIT FOR ME _OUT_ THERE_??!! GET AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE ! LEAVE ME IN PEACE!! I'M JUST _FINE_! OKAY? _OKAY_!!!" Usagi drew back, like hurled by the wave of rage, gasping. Her hands twisted upon her stomach. " Okay okay. I-I go. Wait for you. Out there " she babbled. She moved to the door. She opened it. She closed it carefully. Gingerly, she turned round, and walked on tips of her toes to the stalls. She silently slipped into one of them. She leant against the thin partition wall, listening to dread warbling within her own heart. Then she closed her eyes and prayed. Minako lifted herself up, dried her mouth with her right hand. She breathed, stared at the puddle of vomit the red ribbon was floating within. She beamed a light bitter smile. She got out the stall, slowly walked to the wash basins. She narrowed her eyes as staring at her reflection in the mirror. She drove some subtle locks of blonde hair away from wet lips. She snickered. She looked down, searching in her bag. She picked up a small bottle. Incautiously, she glanced up at the mirror and noticed the big blue eye peeping from one of the stalls. Her hands unintentionally quivered and the pills fell and rolled down from the small bottle, and her bag. They hit the wet floor with limpid glee, and kept jumping back and forth, right and left, for a while. She sighed, and grinned. " Come out, Usako" she said harshly. Usagi stepped out. " You're great in hiding yourself, y'know, Usako? " Minako continued, mockingly " didn't I tell you to get away? " she tapped her foot once. " Minako " Usagi folded her arms across her chest, trying a very mean attitude "what are you _doing_?" Minako giggled. She turned slightly, raising both her eyebrows. " Who? You mean, me? Nothing " she said, serious serious, she giggled "remember when I told you that I was fine, wonderfully fine? " she shrugged " I was _lying_" she acted a penitent face " I'm feeling_bad_, instead. Uhm... y'know,...stomach-ache. I'm a little troubled. I think. And this " her fingers snapped around a green pill hopping upon the basins' shelf, she raised it before her face " this good remedy yes " Usagi narrowed her eyes. " Ah, yes, it's clear. It's kind of like bicarbonate" she vaguely waved her hand. " Precisely! " Minako nodded enthusiastically. Usagi smiled bitterly, moved her feet uncomfortably on the floor. Minako crouched down, managing to collect the pills again " Yes. It's good good good" she chuckled " Want a taste, Usagi ? C'm on, Usa, have a _taste_!" she handed one to her " It's _divinely_ tasty, believe me" she grinned slyly. Usagi's eyes sparkled as twilight sprightly blew upon them, her right foot tapped wildly on the floor. " No, Minako " she said, roughly " I do not have stomachache" she shrugged, her arms got abruptly unfolded " Oh! Minako, this is the _most_pathetic_excuse I've heard from you in all these years, and you know_ I've heard a _lot_ of them from you, you_know_" Minako chuckled in response. Usagi glared at her furiously " But what the hell do you _think_, Minako? You think I'm _that_stupid_ ? " " Yeees, Usako " Minako exclaimed, excitement running wild into her eyes " but you_are_. You've always been so. Till seven months ago, remember?, anyone had known you woulda had all the reasons to doubt you'd be able to lace up your shoes all on your own, so now, please, tell me..._why_..._why_ have you become so _keen_? " she spitted out, angrily " So fairly mature, responsible, farsighted, eh?...Eh? Why couldn't you just stay like you've always been? Dear old clumsy STUPID Tsukino Usagi. WHY ?!!" " Minako... " Minako scattered out a hysterical laughter. She ran away. Stairs. She grimaced in fiery anger. Stairs and elevators. Story of her life. Tsukino Usagi stood by the bottom of the stairs Minako had run to. She looked up, clenched her first. I hate stairs. Not mildly. I purely hate them. Will I ever become Neo-Queen Serenity, I'll _abolish_ them. She took a quick breath and ran up. Twilight, again. So beautiful against her face. Rose purple reflection through a sea of orange waves. Against the cold of snow coat, and skyscrapers. And not so far away, in the North, Venus, first star of the evening, shone. She folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes. She smiled. " Mina " a breathless, exhausted girl called " oh no, please, stop! " Minako turned round, calmly. Her feet moved cleverly on the rail, like for an old wicked habit. Her blonde hair freely whirled about her thin body, slapped upon her cheeks. She unfolded her arms, she laced her hands upon the back of her head. Twilight gathered round her body, captured it in a glowing aura. She gazed at the panting girl and laughed at her burning cheeks. " Stop me, Usagi ? " she wondered " Oh, yes, sure. I guess I should not throw myself down, for the simple reason I could _hurt_ someone in the impact. Right? " she laughed out louder, tears streaming down her face " Can you imagine that? I could even _kill_ somebody!!" Usagi lifted herself up, prudently moved a couple of steps toward Minako, she stopped. " Minako...you need help " Minako bowed her head upon her right shoulder, folded her arms across her chest again. Longest hair wrapped her body in a golden cloud. " You think? And why ever shall I ? " she asked quietly. Usagi moved another slowly step toward her. " There's something wrong with you, Mi- " " Oh, so you realized, at last " Minako raised her eyebrows " I thought you'd never guess it. _None_ has had anyway. Maybe I'm not that much of an actress. Maybe I do not want to be anymore " she narrowed her eyes, " but friend, see, I do not need any fucking help, understand ? You're coming a little too late, understand? Tell me if I ever get somehow cryptic and confusing, 'k? I really _want_ you to be aware of the thing. This. I _already_ found a solution. Not probably the best one, surely not the rightest, but it is still a _good_one " " No, Minako. It is not. Those kind of things just...they will switch your brain off " Usagi muttered, moving another shy step forwards. Minako gaped, her arms flung open through glorious twilight. " But _that's_ EXACTLY what I want to do, my friend. See, I knew you've become so _teeeerribly_ keen, girl. I JUST WANT TO FUCK MY BRAIN SHUT, don't you understand? I want it to _STOP_BLATHERING_ inside _MY_ SKULL_!!! What kind of right has it got to be there and do all this AWFUL BLA BLA BLA BLA, huh?!! I want to be a..a... a VEGETABLE! " she waved frantically her arms around, like a bird at its first attempt to fly " a _ FUCKING_ CATATONIC_ VEGETABLE !! I want to FUCK MY BRAIN OUT!! I LONG for being _CATATONIC_!!! It's my sole SALVATION, don't you SEE, why can't you see, why can't-" " NOOO!! " Usagi shouted, hurled herself at the girl standing upon the terrace's rail, hugged her knees. She buried her face into her yellow wool skirt, sobbing miserably " No no no no no. Please, Mina. You're my friend. I won't let you go. I won't let you go. I plead you, don't leave me. I need you." Minako swallowed. Her body was still shaking by grief and her lips shivered. She released herself from her friend's clasp and jumped down the rail. Usagi did not turn. She covered her face with hands and continued sobbing. She could not possibly stop. Minako walked away. She stopped, in the middle of the terrace. " Forgive me" she whispered. Usagi stopped sobbing. Her hands slipped down her face, letting twilight blaze upon it. She swallowed hardly, turned round, wiping her eyes. " Nothing...I don't mind I-.." she bit her lips as she could not force tears back " But Minako... you really need some help...please. You are my friend...you cannot leave me alone...I can't stay alone, you know...I _did_ feel how it feels, and I don't want to feel it again. It sounds stupid, maybe I am but _it_ is _not_. Don't leave me, Minako. I could not bear a second of my life without you, without your support. You oughta know. You _do_ know. Please. We...we could tell Rei, oh no, not Rei,...sure that's stupid, no...Ami, Ami's better, and her mother. She, they surely will find a way-" " No " Minako cut her off, severely, her hands rhythmically clenching into fists, she paused, serenely " Probably you're right . I need help... See, I can't stay awake because when I'm awake I _think_, and I can't sleep because when I sleep I _dream_ , and I can't eat because when I eat I_vomit_ and I can't look at myself in a mirror because when I do I _hate_ what I see. So, I need some help. I got angry that _none_ has noticed before. But maybe it's my fault. There's nothing wrong in asking for help, anyway. But the fact, my friend, is that I do _not_ need Ami, or her mother or... anyone else " she inhaled deeply " I know it's our duty to support you as we've always done, and I've every intention of keeping doing it, I'm proud of being _your_ guardian, _your_ defender, I've been happier fighting with you and for your sake and safety, clumsy baby, than being alone fighting in the name of justice. And, eventually, if there's one person just one person I'll be happy to die for, well, it is you. Still, now...please, for this time only, wouldn't _you_ be there for me? " she turned round " Please? " she gazed at Usagi's pleadingly, moved slowly to her. " Please, Usagi " she sighed " Just for once, let me need _you_" A twinge of cold bit her back and Minako hugged the girl standing like enchanted before her. Usagi let quietly herself be held tight. Slowly, her arms glided up, and returned the hug. Liberating, joyful tears ran through her cheeks. Oh, she needs me. Part 9 - TILL THE END OF THE WORLD (that is, Hotaru) " And there I shut her wild wild eyes With kisses four. " John Keats She folded her arms across her chest and leant against the window sill. She stared at the white twilight fading into the night. A beam of rose still timidly gleamed through the clouds, through snow placidly falling, dressing the country with the most appropriate winter suite. She smiled. Trying a deep breath, she turned round, walked in the overspread light of many lamps, different in shape and size. The radio sang a merry Christmas song. She closed her eyes and called. Silence roosted upon her shoulders, whispered a joke in her ears. She laughed, happily. She hugged it, dropped on her bed, breathless. Her former love kissed her wild eyes shut, leapt up to the ceiling, as a loyal guardian. Smiling sweetly, she sat up on the bed. " Come in, papa " Her room's door slightly opened, and her father peeked in. " Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you...it's that..." he gazed at her "well, I heard you laughing and y'know...still I can't get used to it " e smiled fondly, coming closer " it's a blessing for me, having you here, child " he sat on the bed, timidly fondled her cheek. She giggled, hugged him. He returned the hug. The Christmas song vanished. " See, I was wondering " the radio-girl shouted out " if the world has to come to an end at the end of the millenium, with which time zone will it come ? 'cause, would it fall in our time-zone, I could catch a flight to New York few minutes before midnight and have about six hours more to spend in Central Park or Broadway. For example" Prof. Tomoe frowned. " I'm not sure you should listen to this sort of programs " Hotaru drew herself a little back. She smiled at him. " I'm no more a child, papa " she scolded him tenderly. He smiled back. " Yes, I know " She giggled, slipped under bright colored blankets, rested her head down on the pillow, she held her arms out to him. " Don't you kiss me a good night? " He caressed her cheeks and forehead, sweetly. " Sure, I do " he leant over her, kissed her forehead. She giggled. Lifting himself a bit up, he adjusted his glass upon his nose, thoughtfully. " And you? You believe the end of the world will fall by the end of this year, my girl? " he asked seriously. " Uhm, I dunno..." she mused, turned his scary violet eyes on him " but I think you'd better give me a _great_ present for Christmas" she smiled slyly. Part 2 of 1 - THE GIRLS' WAY (Faith's answer) " There can be no Good Will. Will is always Evil ; it is persecution to others or selfishness " William Blake " I mean, I do _need_ to talk to you" she specified. Faith tapped her fingers upon the fishes food box once more. She stood up, turned, gazed at her carefully. She ran her fingertips through ruffled hair. " That's fine. I give you seven minutes " she said blankly, put her hands on her hips. The other woman slightly nodded. " I want you to stop this " she said, firmly. " Uh-uh..." Faith meditatively looked down at the tips of her shoes " this...what? " As she glanced at the other woman again, a stream of twilight quietly blew upon her face. Her eyes coldy glowed. Scary eyes. Predatory eyes. Dozens of colours whirled within them. When she ran through sunny afternoons, the sun and sky somehow fixed one. There, instead, through the quiet dusk, they twisted continuously. Green like poisonous ivy, sparkling like blue. Besides, the rose powder laid upon her eyelids did not help but to give them an even more disturbing grasp. The former woman forced herself not to mind. " You know..." a beam of impatience. " No, I don't" Faith pronounced, lips and music wed " But I guess you're gonna tell me, aren't you? " " What's going on with the Senshi " she replied, quickly " It is nonsense. It's not fair. And it's definitely not-" " -the way it's meant to be " Faith cut her off , a bit of annoyance crept through her lips " Yeah, already heard this. Many times. Too many. Telling you honestly, it is becoming a little boring. Can't we just proceed and perhaps get to the point, once and for all, please?" The former woman gaped, she snorted slightly, clasping her arms tighter against her body. " But _that's it_. There's a reasonable best way events are _meant_ to follow, and they _ought_ to." she narrowed her purple eyes, as her voice grew bitter " And you've been misleading them from it. Now, it's time for you to _stop_ this. Before it'll be too late " she shrugged, vexed " My, I can't believe you _actually_ did _all_ this just in order to have _her_ fucking with that man? " she did not wait for a response " I hope at least you've taken some weird kind of pleasure from it " she muttered. Faith inhaled deeply. She blew air out through refined nostrils. Her face stayed perfectly, purely emotionless. " Uhm, okay. " she raised her right hand " Point one. There are very few things I actually enjoy, and 'to fuck' is not one of them. Point two. I _assure_ you that I am one of the least romantic persons in the entire Universe, no_doubt_, still I won't call it 'fucking'. It's awfully coarse, expecially if referred to two souls deeply in love. Point three. I did not participate in the process, anyway. Just because you show interested. Point four. I did not do anything _at all_, indeed. It was not even my _idea_." she sighed " Let me tell you something. Happens sometimes, that you're put face to face with yourself and asked to choose whoever you want to be. It's pretty rare, but sometimes, I say sometimes, it happens. In fact, it did. To me. I chose to be _nothing_. It was a long time ago, anyway. And it's my chance for being everything, _anything_, anytime, anywhere. Sounds familiar? Well, my friends don't understand this. They believe I'm incredibly unhappy because of this, and that my choice has been somehow_forced_. But they're wrong. Believe me or not, I feel perfectly fine with this. Expecially Yelena, though, she can't understand it, for the simple reason she already _is_ everything, and _can_ be anything, anytime, anywhere, but it's not a conquest, not an achievement for her, just a birthood gift. That's why she cannot understand it. She probably considers it just like a bit of my insanity " " Then, she happened to watch over that Haruka girl, and she saw some kind of similarity between me and her. Well, I _hate_ to admit this, but she was right. I didn't believe her until I heard her speaking just like I would do. 'I wanted to be nothing, it was my chance to be anything etcetera etcetera'. Just for some reason, I'd say, mainly because of _you,_, actually, she got incredibly _lost_ about it. Because, see, you have to be incredibly _strong_ to keep this your way. I know it perfectly. Sooner or later, you fall _tempted_ by the world, and wish to fix your self in a shape, for the sole reason that none could ever really _touch_ you, if you don't fix your shape. And everybody need to be _touched_ sometimes, if you understand what I mean. I don't mean it just a physical touch, to be clear. It's something more. It's the scent of an apple, a pair of sweet amber eyes, the taste of salt upon a girl's skin. If you wish to be nothing, and succeed, the world would just skim you. She's simply not strong enough to bear this. Too painful for her body. Too cruel about her mind. Too aching for her heart. Thus, she was in pain, and it wasn't fair. Thus, Yelena got this bizarre idea she could do something to heal her sorrow, _and_ by healing her, rescue me, as well" she pressed her hands upon her breast, fluttering her eyelids, never smiling " But,last point, babe, not even Yelena _did_ anything to compel events to a definite path...the girl, Haruka's chosen simply a course in spite of another. Have it straight and clear, okay ? None of us did anything to change the events' natural course." The woman frowned, dubiously " But you..." carefully, she searched for proper words " you monitor events continuously. You see everything..." " Precisely " Faith cut her off " We _see_. We _see_ everybody, sooner or later, here. We _know_ everybody really well. This does not imply we _manipulate_ them. _We_ do not." she said, narrowing her scary eyes " Actually, we hardly even _care_ of any of them. Of course, the Senshi are pretty popular, even here. And yes, Yelena did drop herself into that dream sequence, and told Uranus she was free to decide, and to have time of her life. So what? It's her favourite phrase, babe, she repeats it _continuously_, call it her...signature file, okay?" she shrugged " Anyway, I guess you can complain this with her. Sure." she nodded, her eyes sparkle slyly blue marine " I warn you, though, that it'd be a waste of time. You know what she'd say? She'd say you she was born when you were not even a thought in the mind of God, and that it is the way she likes best and it's the way it'll be. " she did not smile. The other woman shook her head. The music grew heart-aching. " You don't understand " she said " It's not _safe_ for them to be this way. There's only one way they could be all happy and content forever, and it's not _this_. Can't you see?" she frowned, narrowed her all-knowing eyes " Have you ever thought about _consequences_? No, of course you have not. Have you ever thought about Neptune, for example? How do you think she'll react to this? Neptune and Uranus are _supposed_ to stay together _forever_. They're _bound_ to. It's planets' command, not mine. It's an universal rule to be respected. There's no way to escape it. There's no way you can deny it, and it'll come out, you'll see. And what about Jupiter? What is it, huh? You think it's actually a cool great thing to have her crushed by a _piano_, and, as a crazy consequence, having Venus sinking herself with alcohol and various amazing drugs, and the others all variously messed more or less. Can't you understand? You have no enough _experience_. _I_ am experienced enough. More than anyone else. _I_have dedicated thousands years of my life to my duty only, all devoted to only the aim of making the things follow the best path..." she paused, licked her lips " And now... now you...you're destroying everything I did create. I threw all myself into this, y'know. I did not left room for other pleasures, satisfactions, _dreams_ but this. _This_ was my only true dream, indeed. Yes, I was not the first actor, and _still_ I could be the _most important_one, because, see, without me, everything would have shattered in pieces...right like now... all my dreams are crumbling like cookies in a milk jar. Because of _you_ " she lowered her face, just stood still, sulky, her hands playing with the gracious key hanging from a gold necklace. Faith raised both her eyebrows. She seriously considered to just say 'Well, seven minutes are over. Farewell, former lady' and slip away. Instead, she lifted her left hand and pressed a pair of finger right below her brow, closed her eyes. She held breath back. She let it blow. She opened her eyes, bent slight forwards. " Let me show you something Marianne taught me" she said, lowly. The woman glanced up. Faith put three open fingertips upon the crystal surface of the aquarium, twisted them. They woke a glimmering azure light from water. " Look " she said. Within the light, a couple appeared. A girl and a boy. Dressed for school. He pleads her to stay. She turns away, cruelly. " See those two? " Faith said velvety " He's mad about her but she does not return his love. He's gonna be awfully unhappy. Days, weeks, months, years, maybe. Maybe he'll seek for her in every puddles' reflections for all his life. Who knows. But _consider_, what if there is someone in the world who'd live just for her freedom? A third man. A third girl. Who'll love hi, her truly and whom he, she could love back properly. Would you gift this guy of her, just because he's mourning now, though you know she'd never be completely content if not against her will, and leave the others deprived of her ? Would you deny the other two's potential happiness for the happiness of just these two, or just for fulfilling _your_ vision of things-that-should-be and things-that-should-be-not? See Haruka, now. She fell in love with that amber-eyed guy. And you know what's wonderfully good in it? That she _can_. How can you know whether it is better or worse than before, or neither of these? Maybe she woulda never known him, had Neptune not left her. But she did. And here's the result. We don't know whether if it's going to be good or not. But that's it, babe. We _don't_ know. We do _not_ interfere. Never. That's how _we_ act, always. We _do_ nothing. We just let the old good world go on the way it's used to." The woman grinned bitterly. " I remind you that the old good world killed us all" she said. Faith bowed her head, shrugged. "_ You_ killed _yourself_, child " her voice, a wizard song. " It was an accident " she muttered, grumpy. Faith's eyes widened, burnt brighter " Yeah, but that's it, child, that's _it_" she raised her hands before her face " Accidents. They happen everyday. Nothing's necessary, and we do not know which the best way co-" " Of course, _you_ don't. You know nothing about the Senshi's reality. You forget I was able to _see_ in the future. _Their_ future. I know the best way" Faith's arms fell back on her hips, as she stepped closer. Her slender body glided fully into twilight. She narrowed her eyes. " Do you? You just _presumed_one_ of the various possible ways to be the fairest and the best, and are you sure you called it the best one not only because it is the one you _like_ the best, child? " she almost whispered. " Don't call me 'child', and don't treat me like I was a child. I'm not " " You see? " she lifted herself up " As long you'll be acting like a child, I'll be treating you like a child " she said severely " You think what you want, what you do, what you choose is the best for everyone, just because you love it. But let me tell you, babe, you're wrong. You think you're indispensable, but you're _not_. You could have never joined the Planet and none would have felt that bit of 'there's-something-missing-here'. Just leave them alone. Let the girls have their way. They can live. With or without you, babe " she paused, thoughtfully. Her eyes suddenly got shut. Rose shadows on her lids twinned with the rose shade of her lips. I'm such a fool, sometimes, she thought to herself, scoldingly. She almost smiled. Her eyes flung open. " But here's it, right? That they can live. With or without you. You're not important, you've never actually been, and now you're definitely left out of the stage. There's nothing you can do, nor anyone would come to ask for you help. Because you're not necessary " She could not help it, this time. Her secret smile curled her lips up. " And that's what's crumbling your poor crystal heart through. " she murmured " Like cookies in a milk jar" The woman did not move, nor gave a minor sign of emotion. Faith leant closer to her, bent slightly down, her forehead pressed upon the former woman's one. She closed her eyes. " Don't worry, child " she whispered, tenderly " Everything will be all right " She slipped away. That was the moment Pluto started crying. End of Chapter 10 Once again, I remember you that English is not my mother tongue, and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Well, go to see Pretty Good Year Official Web Page (well, kind of) at http://members.tripod.com/~heles1/Faith.htm or Artemis&Luna's Central Command Headquarters http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9897/ Sailor Moon Romance http://www.ctd.nwu.edu/~aerdnahu/ Jupiter Knight's Great Sailor Moon Fanfic Archive http://www.dragonfire.net/~JupiterKnight/fanfics.htm Haruka and Michiru's Fanfics (section of The Complete Sailor Moon Page) http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Garden/4292/fanfics.htm Michiru's Fanfiction (section of The Neptune's Palace) http://www.michirukaioh.simplenet.com/fanfiction.html Sailor Moon Fanfiction (page from Jackie Chiang's site) http://sailorneptune.simplenet.com/sailormoon/fanfics/ Immora's Spiffy Sailor Moon Page http://www.geocities.com/~immora/silvermoon.html Subject: Pretty Good Year- Chapter 11 " there's no need to argue anymore I gave all I could but it left me so sore And the thing that makes me mad is the one thing that I had " [The Cranberries] ======================================================== --------------------------------------------------------------------- Completed on 15/05/98 Released on 30/05/98 This is my first SM Fanfic and here's its last chapter. And yes, I've been busy lately (if you're wondering). Special thanks to God/Kami-sama/whatever-Your-name-is, and to Jon Carp. Tune up proper music, and go reading. [ Author's suggestions go for U2, Joshua Tree Tori Amos, From the Choirgirl Hotel Romeo+Juliet, OST ] A SM Story rated: PG-13 PRETTY GOOD YEAR by Heles MacAnemy Chapter 11 AS IF THERE WAS NO TOMORROW that is WISH YOU WERE HERE " I want to kill this killing wish they're too many and not enough sky Boys all think she's living kindness ask a fellow waitress ask a fellow waitress" -- Tori Amos " But most of all Her. The one. She was the most real of all. Just sitting upstairs, waiting." -- Jon Carp The newcomer stood by the tidy wall, breathing. The brightness of the hall hurt her eyes, like a sordid (but steady) beat against her forehead, speeding back and forth through her head, down to her neck, her shoulder blades, her self construction. Her eyelids lifted up, and, being them removed from her sight, the world performed its most contradictory and seductive colors against her. She stared up, faithfully. A ceiling, she saw, paved with clouds. Weird that, it looked familiar. She swallowed. Her eyelids veiled her eyes again. She rested her neck against the cold wall. A refined product from a refined source. A pretty quirk of destiny, she was still and remote. Inane like a blue butterfly. But she was coming. Nonetheless. Music was playing, a music she knew she once had loved, or maybe she had not, still a music she could reproduce clearly within her mind. She tried. Few notes softly tingled within her throat, modulated into a tender tune, she peacefully closed her eyes, began whispering a lullaby to herself. The blue butterfly fell upon her lips, tempted by their purple blossom. She could feel the wings of the butterfly slowly waver, with patient eagerness, then suddenly her breath disturbed the flimsy thought-line of this tiny creature, and blew it into confusion. She lost the vision. Her eyes flung open. She bit her lips. Unrealizing, she had swallowed the butterfly, in fact. She giggled. A diamond, resolutely pending by a young lady's ear, shone through the various lights, shedding little rainbow cuts of them, and she imagined them drawn upon her face, like spangles on sea's surface. She frowned. Suddenly resolute, she ordered her lips to curl up. She failed. Inane girl she was, her lips obeyed to her heart only, and her heart was a broken mirror lying against a naked wall. Thousands miles away. She hugged herself. She deliberately drew her head back, shutting her deeply reflecting eyes. She ignored the ants' bruise of her stomach. She proceeded. Her brow frowned, her right ear ring tingled. Slowly, her eyes closed again. She inhaled deeply, her hands clasped tightly upon elbows. She blew air scents, drafts of herself out, and with them, the butterfly. Patient and quiet like the springtime sea, she waited. Her brow relaxed, her right ear ring twinkled. She felt her, had her, caught her in her nose before even in her brain. She smelt her. Soap. Through the (high deep intense intrusive intoxicating) scent of wealth and velvets the (sweet clean plain discreet gentle) scent of soap. This, and another fragrance no one would have ever suspected that she could wear. She did not, in fact. But the one was now plunged in a kaleidoscope of people, and none of them would notice. Her watery eyes flung open, as she instinctively left the safety of the wall. She stepped forwards, her legs hesitating at first, feeling stiff and some way cold, but she walked on, any way. She seeped through the crowd of polishedly bored women and their elegant escorts, ignoring them all, them all ignoring her subtle shape. Her very self was aiming at the one thing in the hall she truly cared (but I don't) about. The scent. The scent of a woman. But I do not. (yes, you do) She bit her lips harshly, dodging a waiter in white jacket. I do not. (you do). The night breeze reared upon her left cheek, making her stagger. Say, I do not. She stopped, gazing at the open window. She lost the trail, she narrowed her heavy b(eautiful)lue eyes, she caught it again. Her head turned resolutely (but you do) and she walked to the opposite wall. She gently pressed her hand against a man's shoulder, so to make her pass, her hair streamed on his black jacket. And she saw her. The one. No, I do not. I do not. (you do you do you do) I do not. Definitely. A splinter of the unknown fragrance whirled by her nostrils, so vivid and lively she could almost turn and run away. A quick shiver (you do still do) made her step forward, instead. Once. (still) Twice. (do) Once more. (you) She inhaled deeply. The one she was seeking for was standing in front of her, she knew, although she was likely occupied with the buffet's jewels. She could go wrong on many things, so far, she had got lost in the airport, trying to recover the memories of how it could be like, in spite of simply following the signs, and she had gone looking for that flowers-shop she had loved so much by the bay, rather than in the temples' hood, where it's always been, never moved. But she could recognize this silky neck, and, most of all, the tender and peculiar dune the last of the cervical vertebras (oh I do) shaped within her neck, and the soft light blonde hair upon it. Instinctively, she raised her hand to skim it, she swallowed slowly, her body reached out , longing for the touch, permeated by a liquid and vibrant expectation (oh I'll die) a spike of sadness (was it fear maybe) poked her in the middle of her chest. (will I die) She froze. Her intense (so beautiful) purple lips quivered, and her hand withdrew in a painful twitch. The silver pendant hanging from her right year tingled against her neck. She got closer. With the delicacy of a dead daisy petal, she raised her chin upon the other's left shoulder, her lips almost skimming the one's ear, and she breathed (soap) she breathed _her_ intensely (oh) and said (the sea) "I _say_" she said as the door slipped open with the ghosts' reverence, and let her storm out from the hall. She realized she was almost shouting and that that was nicely rude, and whirled upon herself, facing the man, hitting her sapphire eyes into his, " I say " she repeated, more quietly " that I just don't find it such a _great_ idea, to _bear_ right _this_ night!" The man shrugged shyly. " Uh, well...I doubt she had actually any choice " he said, dimly. " You DOUBT?! " she hissed savagely, some way persuading him to take a few steps back " So you really don't _understand_? She's not merely _doing_ it. She's also _willing_ it." " Well- " " She's doing it _on purpose_, can't you see? " she lifted herself up, gave a straight twist to her shoulder blades, started pacing back and forth in the small hallway " Oh! " she waved her right hand to her forehead, in a vexed, natural gesture " I bet she's been planning it all from the _beginning_. " she shook her head, inducing the silver pendant hanging from her left ear to swing wildly " Y'know, one can really decide when where and how to give birth nowadays" she stopped, tapping her foot to the floor like a stubborn, bothered child " She's never accepted me " she muttered " She's never accepted the fact that I'm taking her little thing away. She _hates_ me " she turned to him, a curl of dissatisfaction in her glowing eyes. A pale shade of green flamed from within their pupils, beckoned by the dark blue. He sighed, his hands clasped the railing behind him. " I think you're..uh, over reacting " he managed to summon her to peace, in a soft tone. She did not like it. She crossed her arms upon her breasts and stuck on him a furious glare. " You _think_? " she said, grimly. He lowered his gaze, ran a hand through his ruffed hair, managed to find a more comfortable position against the railing. Casually, his glance fell upon the swirls of stairs below. It did not comfort him. She had captured him, from the very first time. He almost smiled. " Uh, well, just a bit " he murmured. She stepped toward him, leant her face close to his. " You mean she doesn't hate me? " she whispered, her breath stinging against his lips. " No, she doesn't " he answered, by heart. By heart, he paused. " Uh, well... maybe just a little bit..." he had to add, with a tiny smile " But...y'know, we've always been so close, since we were children..." he sighed " I was like her...her hero, I was her...Hercules" he smiled tenderly. Her eyes narrowed. The shade of green sparkled more vividly this way. He could see something like...satisfaction now, in that mystical spark that had blown in her eyes. " And she was your Deianira " her voice glistened through her lips, bewitching him. " Precisely..." he said, almost unconsciously. She lifted herself up, a perversely charming smile curling her lips. " Let me tell you something about Deianira " she bowed her gracious head upon her left shoulder. The silver pendant ticked her pure milky skin, scratched it softly. " According to Thessalic myths, Deianira was the daughter of king Eneos. She lived in a world overflowed with multiform gods of rivers and other awesome monsters, from which the only refuge and solace was the 'o', the father's house. I don't have to explain you what awesome monsters do symbolize in a virgin maiden's imaginary, do I ? " she snapped at him an interrogative, meaningful gaze. He merely shook his head, feeling mildly dizzy all of sudden. "Anyway, " she proceeded "she lived her youth oppressed by the fear of the day she would be compelled to live her nest, in other words, the day she would get married to one of those fierce and libidinous suitors. Among all these, Hercules just seemed to her to be the most bearable target after the fall from grace" " So she went, and became his wife." she sighed, rubbed her forearm with fingertips " They went to Trachis, where, to her relief, she at least found in their palace a new 'oikos', a new nest for herself." " Then one day, when Hercules was at last coming back from one of his war enterprises, she discovered that he had fallen in love with a girl, a girl fair and younger than her" she grinned, instinctively running her fingers through her uncombed hair "with long blonde hair and delicate features, and that he was taking her home with him, taking her to Deianira's own nest, with all intention to make her intrude its security and equilibrium" "Well, Deianira was not the kind of woman who could accept this. She went into the depths of the house, where she had jealously kept a gift from the centaur Nexos" her eyes sparkled, while she opened her hands in front of her face, like a peacock's tail " a filter, a _love_potion_, made of the centaur's blood and the poison from the Hercules' bolts that had killed him. Before dying, the centaur, who had tried to rape her, thus stirring up Hercules' rage and revenge, had told her to collect the blood that was spilling from his wounds and keep it dear, as it could regain the love of whoever man on earth, if not the gods' even." " So she kept it. In the secret of the nest, she kept it. " her hands, pale and smooth skin, waved down, settled upon her breast. " When she learnt she was to be losing Hercules, she merged a tunic with the filter, and sent him it. And you know what happened? " she grinned a weird grin "The filter _had_ magic powers, and was to bring a _solution_, in fact. But not quite the genre of solution for which it was told to be effecacious" her voice tuned lower " Once Hercules wore the tunic, it got stuck tightly to his skin, and started..._burning_ him, burning him _slowly_" she stressed the words like singing them, putting them in a tangled harmony " The pain was so atrocious that the almighty Hercules screamed like a _sissy_..." she blew this last one directly against his face, so that he could breath it. She stood close and still, for seven seconds or maybe more, eyelids half closed, bitting her lower lip. She blinked lightly, drew a little back, not troubled at all. She studied his face, wandered her thoughts within his eyes. "Now" she pronounced, weighing the word as if it was of vital importance, "do you honestly think that Deianira didn't know it _before_ sending the tunic? Can you honestly say that she was not _aware_ of the fact that when Nexos gave her the filter, he just wanted his revenge, as she did want it now, and keep you a serious face? Her husband committed adultery with a younger and fairer woman, and he did not stop there. He _exacted_ to bring his lover in her precious _house_, to make her _join_ the family" her eyes suddenly widened blue and striking " _Hence_ , she killed him. _And_ she did it on _purpose_, my dear" she shrugged slightly " Oh, and by the way, Deianira's name literally means 'destroyer of men' " she grinned slyly. Silence fell. She simply folded her arms upon her breast, and waited. Her head was again tenderly bowed upon her shoulder, the silver pendant still and silent. He swallowed, cleared up his throat, wiped his right eye gingerly. " Okay. Okay, " he finally said " I hate to admit it, but she does. She hates you. Not that you deserve it, of course. But she does. You know her, don't you? You know what's she's like " " Mmm...you mean..neurotic, paranoid, anxious and anxiogenic, hypersensitive, hyperexcited, hyperprotective, or depressed, whimpering, egocentric, childish, not to forget selfish and pathetic, and frankly unnerving? " " Precisely " his eyes widened, as he stepped forward " But, sweetheart, try to understand " he got closer to her " She's my _sister_, anyway, and she's having her _first_ baby, and she's totally _paniching_ about this, and she's asking for me to be there with her. Wouldn't you _love_ to have someone you love and have dear near you in this kind of situation?" he smiled sweetly. " I would love to have someone I love near me _now_" she pouted, her blue vulnerable eyes escaping his gaze. She twisted her ankles, blew out a deep breath. She raised her face, its fiery elegance modeled into a serene shape. " But, as an answer, yes " she sighed " Yes, I guess so " she stepped forward, her forehead skimming his. Her eye lids lowered, she bit her lips. She drew herself back, abruptly. " Go for it. Goodbye " She whirled upon herself, walking away. Her long blue dress slapped the air. For half a second, he stood there, completely stunned. " Haruka..." he pronounced, his voice dried like a dead river. She stopped. Quietly, she turned round. Her face was solemnly painted in sweet shades now, that sparkle of scratching green in her eyes had vanished. Though, a twinge of vague melancholy remained. " I'm sorry " she said " I know I'm acting very selfish tonight. It's just...it's just that this is not a mere new year's Eve, y'know. It is the end of a _millenium_ and the beginning of a new one, and I wished to spend it with somebody I love. I wished it to a _star_, Thad. And stars do hear our prayers. I was expecting to be fulfilled. I was expecting it to be granted. It won't happen again. It will be just an instant, we would not actually perceive it, and we won't have a second chance either. We simply won't see another beginning of millenium _together_" her lips trembled gently, beautiful and sad like a dead rose " What if...what if there was _no_ tomorrow, Thad? I- I don't mean...the end of the world, no. I mean..." she paused, involuntarily, she shifted her gaze to the columns on her left, emotion shut her eyes close " Don't mind about it. Take care of your neurotic sis, now" she moved her hands nervously, while softly turning on her feet, like a ballerina " She's the most important now. Let her be the protagonist tonight, if that's what she wish. She too could not have a second occasion, after all" she smiled. In his amber eyes she saw a reflection of her grief, and she wished to kiss them shut. She kept distant, however. Hadn't she done it, she would have not been able to let him go. Her hands clasped each other, urgently calling for contact. " I'm asking you, love. Please, go. Do it for me." she smiled, turning away. Oh, I adore buffet. She bit her lips, feeling a wave of her natural gluttony creep out to possess her. She was able to smile again, and do it seriously. She approached the long table, upon which every kind of delight was settled and adorned with flowers. Magnificent flavours grew sort of overwhelming and unmerciful within her nostrils. She stopped by the table edge, and took a porcelan dish. Plunged very deeply in anticipation of pleasure, she started collecting the food goods, picking them up with bare fingertips, deliberately ignoring any form of manners. She yet did not know that her wish had been granted. Thus, she, though unwillingly, didn't notice the young woman standing so close behind her, so close her breath skimmed her left hear, made the silver pendant tingle against her sinuous neck , finally she heard the voice, when it said " Hello " a whisper through her ear pavilion. She was able to feel the vibration when the bruise of air was swiftly snapped against her lobe. Haruka whirled upon herself, almost staggering against the table during the process. She held her breath back. As she was imagining, though an event of that kind had been sitting far beyond the edges of her imagination, Michiru was there, stepping back briefly, kind of surprised. Curiously, her aqua-colored eyes were glimmering through the hall crystal light. She was smiling. All unexpectedly, " Hi " she said again. " Hi " Haruka replied, still breathless. She licked her lips. They were seriously dry. She bit them, heedlessly. Oh. She had forgotten how beautiful (b e a u t i f u l) she was. Skin hair eyes. Yes. She seemed to be made by velvet and water. Michiru giggled, her smile widened. " Hi " she repeated. Her dark eye-lashes lowered, drove her gaze upon the lemon yellow dress of the lady beside her. Haruka inhaled. She realized her hands were grasping the long table behind her back, like a safety anchor in the powerful maelstrom, and she furtively released the grasp. She chuckled, pressing two fingertips upon her brow. " Hi " she repeated, softly shaking her head, her gaze unremoved from Michiru's (beautiful) face. " Well...it's been...long..." she added, every word lurked. Michiru bowed her head, delicately. Her turquoise hair had been cut, and was combed accurately so to keep it behind her ears, in refined polished waves. " You...uh..." she started "...put on, uh...weight" she said, in the most enchanting manner, her voice glided in the sweetest tones. " Oh! Yes. You noticed, huh? " Haruka chuckled, her face lighting up. She gazed around, frowning " Don't you feel like choking? " Michiru blinked. " What? " Haruka shrugged, picked up her full dish. " Here, with all this people. Don't you feel like choking? Wouldn't you like to go outside and inhale a breath of freshness in your lungs? " she smiled mellowly. Her eyes glistened of a velvet blue. Michiru found herself unarmed against this. She shrugged. " Sure " she simply said. Haruka nodded and moved forward to her right, she stopped few steps aside, grabbed a bottle of champagne and two crystalline glasses, turned. She gazed at her interrogatively. Michiru started slightly, realizing she had not moved, and her hands were tied strictly in her lap. Her lips cradled an embarrassed smile, and she followed the tall woman toward the large window, walking on stiffen legs. The night breeze stroke cold and fuzzy her cheek. It crawled upon her body, chilling her skin through her creamy dress, exploring it depassionately. She shivered, hugging herself. She locked her eyes upon the soft dune of Haruka's neck. The locks of feathers from her blue dress neck hole wavered, as frightened by the night. There was no reason, really. The sky was dark, but filled with geometry of stars, and the balcony was enlightened by overspread lamps' light. The sounds from the hall shut down progressively, replaced by the quiet babbling of water, from the fountains and artificial lakes. There was a smell of blue and green there. Haruka stopped by the stony steady railing and put down here the bottle she had been holding between her right arm and her hip, and the glasses. She turned, smiling intensely. Michiru noticed, and smiled in return. " Do you want some? " Haruka asked, handing her the dish. Michiru shook her head, silently. Haruka shrugged slightly, and sat up on the railing. Michiru stepped slowly by it, (I can't) she did not help to take a look beyond. They were at the top of the Ten'ou skyscraper, and no name could have been more appropriate for such a building. It felt, indeed, like they could reach out a hand and tickle the sky. Far off in the distance, the city lived, sleepless. A million and more lights of various colors competing for the sky, from each angle of the city, from each window and each street, and each street poured people, and all the people poured coriander by their hands. There was music, she knew, and yelling, of joy and of something else. And, unchanged, there was the wind. Charming and inviting, swirling up and down, like a careful gloved arm. This time, though, there was something else, even though familiar. A familiar scent. She bit her lips, and turned to her left. Haruka was sitting there, picking up a pink candy, looking at it curiously, snapping it, swallowing it. Michiru smiled at her, irresistibly. She rested her forearms on the railing, bowing her head. The silver pendant from her right ear, the one that coupled perfectly with Haruka's one, the only remembrance she had kept, in fact, span once to the emptiness below, and brilliantly. " So..." she started " when are you, uh...expecting it for? " " End of June " Haruka turned, licking her fingertips " or beginning of July. Provided everything will go fine. But not only one. Two, I'd say. At least. " " Two? " Michiru blinked, in serious bewilderment. " Sure " Haruka chuckled merrily " Don't you see? " she fondly patted her puffy lap with her free hand " I'm about the third month only and I already look like a...fat little whale..." she chuckled like a naughty little girl, her cheeks painted in a pale rose " well, true that I'm _hungry_ like a fat little whale too..." she shrugged, snapped a milky chocolates " What about you, Michiru? No cute babies in your life ? " Michiru lifted herself up, frowned deeply. " Oh, Haruka..." she said, almost severely " I do _hate_ children, you know.." Haruka paused, lifted her head up, gazing at her straight " Yeah, I know. But sometimes people just change their minds, y'see..." she said, velvety. Michiru's frown did not dissolve, her liquid gaze glistened aside and lower. Haruka bit her lips " Sorry...I didn't mean..." she shook her head " y'know... pregnant women are weird sometimes " she lowered her eyes " I'm sorry " Michiru giggled " Nothing, really" tapping her fingertips upon the stone, her eyes exploring the stars "What about the father? " she asked. "Ooh...the father..." she giggled "Now _that's_ a good question..." Haruka followed Michiru's gaze to the sky, pensively "Well, the father's a great sweet person who loves me. And it's funny how I _can_ love him and still it's _me_ the one we're talking about" a wand of sweetness scattered its magic sparks upon her face, drawing it beautiful " Many things have hanged, Michiru, since your...departure, and heaven knows whether it is for the best or not. But I've certainly understood one thing" she locked her deep in her eyes "You were right. Perfectly right. Nobody controls our destiny. Nobody controls _my_ destiny, now. There's no need, no urge, no mean for me to be anything but myself, anything but what I do want this self to be. That is, me. Because see, I _can_ be it, whenever I want to, I can be anything I want to, just as long as I want to. Cause I'm _free_ to decide. Nothing is pre-determined. There is no timeline, no must-be this way in spite of another, there's only freedom, or a powerful randomness, and from magnificent chaos, we must pick up a choice, and that will be us. We-" she stopped, the wrinkle of concern drawn like a steel between her eyebrows "What is it, Michiru? ". The other one startled wildly. " Wha-..? " she murmured, with harmless voice. Her lips tasted the salt. She realized. She was crying. She bit her (I can't resist) lips and wiped her face, almost frantically. " Oh...uh...I...nothing..." she hid her face with slim dainty (have no choice) fingertips. " No, it's not nothing " Haruka's voice crept calm and low "There _must_ be something. I perceived it since the beginning. What is it? " She, frowning deeply, leant towards her. She raised out a hand, her fingertips skimmed the other's milky skin. Michiru's hands slipped down along her (so beautiful) face, as she quivered, strongly pressed her fingertips upon her lips. Her eyes shone through the evocative lamp lights, mirrored the stars. A tear curled up her right (never had one anyway) eye, stretched out like a butterfly from a blossom of lilac, dropped upon her ( oh my sea ) cheek. She blew out a shiver of air. " You actually do want to know? " she murmured. " I'm asking you " Haruka replied, sharing no emotions with her pure features. A lock of blonde hair slipped before her right eye. " I'm telling you " Michiru gaped out, she took a deep breath, folded her arms around her breast. " Not much longer than a couple of weeks ago, I was alone, in my hotel room. I felt the rain steady and narrow in in the air, you know, when the storm lays upon a city in grapes of sulky moody clouds. That...unmystified atmosphere always had triggered me to inaction and unsatisfaction" she paused. She raised one hand, ran fingers through the waves of her turquoise hair. " That day I felt it particularly bad, I could not even escape it by playing my violin, and it had been far too long since I last held a brush in my hands. To listen to some music didn't help me at all. The pop vaguely annoyed me, the classical side just vexed me, so I went to my bedroom and picked up my mirror, the Aqua Mirror, from the one of the drawers. I had never touched it since so long that I almost jumped back and crashed it on the floor at the first contact, for how cold and alive it felt. I can't really tell a reason why I should keep that thing and bring it with me all the way. I had left so many things behind, than this one should have been no exception. I had kept it, though. And I wanted to take a look at it, that day, before the rain" " I don't know what I actually was meaning to do. I guess I just wanted to have a look at what those I loved were doing, or what had been doing, before my departure, like you call it. More likely, I expected to see images from the past. Collected memories. I think I would have enjoyed these " she sighed, painfully " Instead...I didn't see any..." she slowly moved her gaze upon Haruka's face " Instead, I saw a single scene... in principle it just looked like one of my paintings, blurring like from the sea restless surface, then I got the details, one by one, undeniably." " There was you, and you were dressing a blue long dress of pouring voile, with a feathers' neck-hole. You were sitting on the railing of the Ten'ou palace, eating any sort of delightful candies from a dish. You were enjoying it. Very much. But You've always been gluttonous, I know. This made me smile" " There were two glasses on your left side, and a bottle of champagne. I could see its label, and the fragile shivering of crystal lights in the night. Behind you, beyond the Ten'ou skyscraper's terrace the bright city celebrated the greatest party, and which it was, was clearly stated by a huge widely enlightened counter, that told the world how long it was from the beginning of the third millenium, from our city to New York and Paris and Rome and wherever. _That_ counter, to be precise" she raised her forefinger, pointing at the ocre shifting lights that formed the counter, few miles in a distance, towering in the middle of a squared filled with flesh of people, and their glee "And you were pregnant" her hand fainted down on the railing "And you were saying the very same words you've just said, you were telling _me_, that nobody controls our destiny, nobody controls _your_ destiny, and there's no need, no urge, no mean for you to be anything but yourself, anything but what you do want this self to be, that is, you. Cause see, you _can_ be it, whenever you want to, you can be anything you want to, just as long as you want to. Nothing is pre- determined. We're _free_. " she snickered " You see? I learned it by heart...then I- then I _banged_ the mirror. Seriously, to the floor" she blew out a lunatic chuckle, as sobs kept shaking her shoulders, water dropping from her watery eyes " But don't worry. I couldn't crash its powerful surface, of course... you understand what this means, however. Don't you? " she stuck her (beautiful) wet eyes onto her face " _If_ there's _nothing_ pre-determined out there, then _WHY_ I was able to foresee this evening in the mirror? Then WHY every single detail was perfectly reproduced? WHY ?! " she got close to her, her eyes enormous and savagely dry now " Not even one of your lashes would fall if it does not fit a pre-ordered scheme" she almost hissed against her neck. The vibration of the words caused Haruka to shiver. Her fingertips instinctively twitched upon a cream candy, sinking within its tenderness. Michiru withdrew slowly. " That's it " she murmured, finally. Haruka cautiously raised her hand and licked the cream upon her fingertips, all thoughtfully. The blonde lock before her eye waved, once then twice. She chased it away, gazed at the window-door, then at the hall, the sharp and piercing draft of light from inside, against the blackberry face of the night. " That's it " she repeated, she turned again , meditatively " So what? " If possible, Michiru's eyes widened. " _What_? " she gaped, hurled her voice into dazement " _Wrong_! It's like answering a question with another question, so what _what_, Haruka ? Have you left your brain _home_, dearie? _I_ was wrong. _Wrong_, you understand? About _everything_. We are _not_ free to decide, Haruka. And if it seems so, it's a _delusion_. _THAT'_s _WHAT_. _I_ was deluding myself, _you_ are deluding yourself if you do believe so, _everybody_ 's deluded if believes so. I myself gave you the wrong impression, I know. I _myself_ gave you the wrong input, I know. I'm here to repair my mistake, I'm here to-" she stopped and frowned in wild disappointment " Haruka, you are _NOT_ listening to me! " her voice swirled severely. Haruka gave up and laughed wholeheartedly. "On the contrary, love" she attempted to calm down and say " It's that...you're losing your temper" she snickered, covering her mouth with her hand "_Again_!" she wiped her eyes, shaking her head slightly " You look incredibly _amusing_, when you do so. Maybe even more than Minako" she took a quick breath " Then, you should stop arguing with me, that way" she bowed her head " People will think we're in love" her blue eyes wandered elsewhere. She scratched her cheek softly with a couple of fingertips. " I'm serious, Haruka " Michiru continued " Freedom is a _myth_. Setsuna taught us so. Now I do understand her. At least, since we are inevitably jailed in this spider web, she managed to make it the most comfortable for us. Al least she preserved us from being alone, or scattered, or departed, or aimless. She preserved us sane and willing. She did not give us the choice she had not herself been given, she did not gice us the choice nobody would ever give us. She did not give us because there's no one. But she kept us unaware of the fact. The fact that no choice was given, no choice has never been given. Destiny is strict and immutable, and whoever or whatever fixed it in the principle, won't change his mind nor its way. There _is_ a way things are meant to be. Generally we are kept unaware of it, and of course we could keep deluding ourselves that we _may_ have a choice, at least the choice to whether believe there is a choice, or not. However, I now got the amazing privilege to be _aware_ of our unawareness. I am now _aware_ of what _is_ and there is no point in resisting the evidence of it. Yeah, it would have been such exciting could we be ravaged by the storms of fate, and must count each one of each one's strength and self to hold the course we want this body-shaped ship to follow, but the sky's unmerciful sometimes, and not even the wind (nor the sea) means freedom, this time. For there is no freedom in destiny's case. There is only _one_ way your, my destiny will follow, and _that's_ where the wind will drive you, dear. I was _wrong_. It _tears_ me apart to admit it, but I _have_ to. I have no idea if there is a remedy to is, nor if I might produce it. What I may say for sure, because these eyes have seen it, is that not even one of the visions I had through the mirror did not correspond to what happened in reality. I would like to cut them shut, but it won't matter, nor help anyway. Your will alone won't win the fate." she shook her head sadly. Her fingertips run though her turquoise hair, troubling its combed waves. Her hand lingered by the back of her neck, massaging it, as she wistfully stared down, beyond the railing. Haruka picked up another candy, snapped the crimson cherry at its top. A flake of wind chilled her back. " I wish I had never known" Michiru said. " If you feel so bad about it," Haruka cut her off, nervously " and feel that it's so bad to know it,then _why_ are you telling me? Have you ever thought that maybe I'd have preferred remaining unaware of it myself? Maybe _I_ didn't want to know either " The flake of wind melt upon her back. She felt considerably better. " But- but...how...I _had_ to. Don't you see? " Michiru's voice lingered, faded, reprised her mourn " Had I never known, I had had no choice equally, but at least, I still had had my former life, meaningful, and _full_. Who'd care to be free, if freedom is just a quirk? Who'd care for knowledge if knowledge will lead to a restless heart-ache? " she took a long trembling breath, a tear rolled upon her left cheek " I have _nothing_. Mothing left. Nothing to conquer. Nothing to regain. No honour. No hope. What can I do, now? Can you tell me, Haruka? Because I don't know " she shook her head, bit her fragile lips, she turned at her " And whatever I'd do, Haruka...how could I tell if it will be really _me_? If...if I- I- I- " she wavered her hand through thin air " for instance, if I decided to drop myself off this balcony... if I decided to jump and fly down, carried by the wind, and then meet the soil and find the final solace there, how-how...will it be really _ME_, Haruka? If I succeed, will it be because I had _my own_ choice _granted_, or just because the Fate's blessing? Because that's what's provided to me by destiny? Well, I don't care for Fate's _favours_, then. If I'll decide to fling myself down, and put the ending mark to my deadly hopeless life, I want it to be _totally_ me. But will it be ME? " she almost screamed. Haruka frowned slightly. She swallowed one of her candies, slowly. " You want to drop yourself off the balcony? " she asked, quietly. " I DON'T KNOW! " Michiru replied, exhausted. Haruka shrugged, taking a glance at the crowd thickly bruising far below. Her eyes twisted of a metallic blue, as she locked them with Michiru's aqua colored ones. " Well, " she tuned, mellowl "that's not a bad idea, after all..." she considered " I guess the only way for you to know would be...to try it. After all, it's not like you have anything to lose...y'see, in the worst case, you' d _survive_" she nodded, biting delicately a chocolate cream candy, looking straight at Michiru's bewitched face " you should get a move on, though, if that's your intention...'cause, see, there's only three minutes and twenty seconds left to midnight and by midnight the world could end, then you would not get your answer anymore " she sighed, stretched her shoulders and neck, she sweetly pushed the rest of the chocolates through her purple lips, with a quick frown " Yes...if I were you, I'd give myself a move. Try it. I won't stop you " she made the chocolate cube swirl upon her tongue, tasting it entirely. She swallowed it. It formed a tiny lobe within her throat, barely visible through her precious skin. She licked her lips, once. The silver pendant sparkled, predatorily. A cloud glowed in her eyes, blue like a faithful warrior, shaded slowly upon her seraphic beautiful face. The wind sweetly caressed her soft hair. Michiru fell silent and still. She could perceive the sound of her breath, raising and yielding, raising and yielding, beneath her breast. Here arms were unfolded, her lips half opened, and, she was sure, pale and beautiful. She realized one thing. There possibly was not enough sky for the millions of stars that shone bright for it, but there was no moon in the sky, that night, either. And she could not help to stare at the other woman. The gentle breeze skimmed her cheeks, ruffed the waves of her hair. A large curl of it wandered upon her brow. She did not mind to drive it away. The breeze fell down from the railing, with a pacific silent shriek. A single tear, yet another one, formed in her eye, blurring her sight, rolled down upon her cheek, dropped upon her left clavicle, went broken here, by her own hart beating. She gaped. Once. Twice, and she managed to collect some relief from air. She failed. Her lips closed, as she removed her gaze and turned it beyond the railing. Suddenly, she opened her mouth to tell something significative and hurting, and she said " You've a..whisker of chocolate..." dismally. " Oh, really? Where? " Haruka blinked, speaking cheerfully. " Here " Michiru reached out her hand and skimmed Haruka's right cheek, by the corner of her mouth. Then she turned again to desolately stare down. Haruka picked up a candy and looked at it gluttonously. Without warning, the sky exploded. Michiru lifted her head up so abruptly that she felt the electric wave striking her spinal cord. A skein of incredible colours, dropping down in a drizzle of brightness. Various shapes. Fireworks. The counter screen blew in a wondrous light, as the slice of humanity who populated that slice of time-zone entered the new millenium. From the hall, cries of joy and the thick bangs of bottles being uncorked shot Michiru's back. " Uh-oh...too late... " Haruka murmured. She jumped lightly down the railing and walked a few steps away, in order to wake up her drowsy legs. She put her hands upon her hips, turned round. She smiled, delightfully. " So, did you seize your day, little mermaid? " she asked. Michiru turned round too, her marine eyes like dazzled by a light coming from a mirror. She did not respond. She clutched the rough stone with her right had, unrealizing. Haruka raised her hand to her brow. "Bleah!..." she exclaimed, looking at fingers dirty with cream and chocolate, in semi-disgust, and she wiped them on her precious blue dress. " Listen " she said, her voice almost overwhelmed by the celebration's glee, stepping closer to the wounded girl " Why don't you just _stop_ thinking about it? You said it. There's no solution but the one you choose to _believe_ in. It does not imply _necessarily_ to _delude_ yourself. Why don't you just try to _live_ it? " she narrowed her vivid green eyes, which did not exactly match with the colour of her dress, though equally suited her face " As if there was no tomorrow " she smiled fondly, her fingertips skimmed Michiru's cheek, dried up a tear, lingered by her lips. She pressed delicately them upon Michiru's mouth, gently forcing it close. She leant down, and kissed, through her own fingertips, her softly. Lifting herself up, she giggled " Silly girl..." she whispered, her fingertips slipping down like the revelation of a ghost, and she turned. Locks of her silky hair tickled the other's (beautiful) face, bereaved it of all emotions. Haruka walked thoughtfully though the terrace, her hands clasped upon her lap. The sweetness upon her face never ceased to glimmer. She stood by the entrance, still smiling, turned around and reached out her hand toward the wounded maiden. Kaiou Michiru just stared at her, unmoving. End of Pretty Good Year Well... the year is ended, end of Pretty Good Year. Nothing's solved, somebody's happy, somebody's not. Different from what you were expecting? Really? Let me know. But that's it, people. God bless you all. God save us all. THANKS to To Takeuchi Naoko (this is due), for creating SM characters in the first place. The (five) persons who actually read this, and be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this and will be so kind to comment it. To all who'll read this and will be so kind to make no comment about it. To all who won't ever read this, thus they won't comment it. To all who're posting this, that is, Artemis&Luna, Andrea Hui, Jupiter Knight, Jackie Chiang, Haruka Tenoh and Michiru Kaioh, my insane friend Heaven, and myself. To Hanny Lee, who helped keeping me sane, and who's not read this, and that's what kept him sane. To Tori Amos and Jon Carp (again) for inspiring and supporting me. To mother&father, for feeding me. To my adorable&cruel PC. Last but not least, to Heles MacAnemy, for letting me use her gorgeous name. You can find Pretty Good Year Official Web Page (well, kind of) at Then, you can find this story, and far better ones, like Jon Carp's ones, at Heaven's Home and A Sailor Moon Dedication Both these sites are part of BSFC, that is, Best Stories by Fans Collection, whose HeadQuarter can be found at Then, enjoy Artemis&Luna's Central Command Headquarters Sailor Moon Romance (whose URL's changed, like you did not notice ^_^) Jupiter Knight's Great Sailor Moon Fanfic Archive Haruka and Michiru's Fanfics (section of The Complete Sailor Moon Page) Michiru's Fanfiction (section of The Neptune's Palace) Sailor Moon Fanfiction (page from Jackie Chiang's site) Sailor Moon Fa Fiction Head Quarters USUAL DISCLAIMERS APPLY