Disclaimer: I have no claim on anything Sailor Moon at all, so don't sue. Please. It'd be ridiculously inconvenient.
Dedication: To all those people who, in their reviews of Awkward, asked for a sequel. Because, you see, my first response was "No! I have no inspiration for what to write for a sequel!", but then the idea kind of worked its way into my head, and my imagination made me eat my words, because it began to conjure up all sorts of things to put into the aforementioned sequel. So, without you, Diaphanous would never have been born.
A/N: This story is pretty darn long, and I, for one, don't like to read ridiculously long chapters. Therefore, I'm splitting it into two parts. Here's the first one.
By the way, all the notifications at the beginning of Awkward apply here.
And, on that note, you should probably read Awkward before you read this story. I tried to make it possible for it to stand alone, but I'm under the distinct impression that I failed on that account.
Without further ado, the story:
Diaphanous
Zachary Tanzan would not hesitate to say that he, himself, was one of the most intelligent people he knew. It was a point of pride, actually. Kevin was serious, Jason was fun, Nick was perceptive and he, Zach, was intelligent.
He fed this intelligence by reading many, many books. His friends often made disparaging comments about how he went through books so quickly, sometimes reading multiple titles in one day. All that reading had at least one positive effect (though it was not the only one, he would insist): Zachary had a fantastic vocabulary.
This did not mean, however, that he did not occasionally come upon words he didn't know. Now was one of those times.
At this point, he had a number of options: he could look up this elusive word in the dictionary, or, with an even faster solution, on the internet. But that that would mean he would have to move (and he was feeling both very comfortable and very lazy). In fact, the only device within reach that could possibly be of use within was a phone, which was on the table beside him.
That didn't help much, either, because there was no one he could call with whom he felt alright with demonstrating any sign of inferior intelligence to. At that, there were only three people in the world with whom he felt confident enough in his intellect to ask.
However, just before he got the chance to do the asking, all three of them marched into his room without prompting.
Sometimes, Zach wondered if he had been a magician in a past life.
Or a superhero.
Yeah. A superhero.
***
The three men stood before his bed in a row, looking rather formal. Kevin opened his mouth to speak, beginning to say—
"Does anyone know what 'diaphanous' means?" Zach asked, still staring down at the page.
Kevin closed his mouth soundlessly, never having gotten a chance to speak.
Nick spoke instead, having been distracted from whatever his former purpose was, "It sounds like some kind of disease. Whadda ya think, Jase?"
"Actually, it means 'enchanting' or 'enthralling'." Jason replied, sounding unusually knowledgeable. The other three looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged, "What? I read it in a poem." Jason had the distinction to be one those men who could willingly admit to reading poetry without losing any of his manliness. "Ever heard of context clues?"
Nick looked skeptical, "So you guessed? Are you sure, then?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay…"
"Guys, back on track here. We do have a mission." Kevin reminded.
"Right."
"Right."
Only now, with his question answered, did Zach notice the serious, grave, this-is-an-intervention-don't-try-to-run type looks that his flat-mates were giving him.
Oh shit. Who knew what those looks could mean…
(Though something in his mind suggested that they might mean that this was an intervention and he shouldn't try to run. Just a hunch, though.)
Kevin began to explain, "Zach, we have something we need to talk to you about."
"So I assumed."
Kevin gestured Nick to go on. Nick made a face at Kevin.
"You see, we've been noticing some…er…" the dark-haired man tried to put it delicately, "different behavior coming from you, you see, and, uh…"
"No, actually. I don't see."
Finally, Jason bluntly picked up the thread of the discussion, leaning on the edge of the bed, "Okay, so first you totally zone out for most of our little jaunt to the Blue Moon Café—"
"—After you collapse to the floor with dear Jason here and your drink—" Nick interjected.
"—Don't remind me—" Jason shot back.
"—that was two days ago—" added Kevin.
Jason turned back to Zach, "Then, you basically force us to pull over at the hardware store without an explanation, to buy paint. After which you proceed to completely rearrange our room in order to repaint the walls—not that I mind the change of colors, because I do rather like blue, butI don't like having my entire room pulled apart by a delusional, long-haired twit with color indecision."
"Are you done yet?" Zach asked.
"No. Because now for the past two days you've been sitting around, occasionally with this utterly dazed look on your face—"
"—and slightly less often a rather panicked one—" That was Nick.
Jason agreed, "—and slightly less often a rather panicked one."
"Are you done now?"
"No!" Jason went on, "You've been eating copious amounts of chocolate, the reason for which I cannot even fathom, and you've been doing crossword puzzles just about nonstop—"
"—and we know," Nick finished, "that you only do crossword puzzles when you're trying to avoid doing something you really think you should do."
There was silence.
Then:
"So…are you quite finished?"
"Yes." Jason finally admitted.
Zach shifted uncomfortably, "Well, what do you want me to say?"
Kevin, who had been doing the strong-and-silent routine, now spoke, "We'd like you to give us an explanation, blondie."
"…Is there any use in telling you that there is no explanation?"
"None whatsoever." (Nick)
"Oh. Is there any use in telling you that I don't want to tell you?"
"Probably not." (Nick again)
"I don't want to tell you."
"I don't care." (Kevin)
"Hmph."
A beat.
"Well, are you going to tell us?" (Jason)
"Can you ask more specific questions? It's a long story, and I don't know where to start."
"What the hell are you avoiding so avidly?" (Nick)
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask that one."
Three pairs of eyes stared at him, and Zach realized that he really did have to answer them. He also acknowledged that he didn't really know how to lie to them. Which left him no choice.
"You see, there's this girl…who I really ought to call."
The three males at the end of the bed shared a look, letting out a collective sigh (they had been worried it would be something far worse) before Jason spoke for all of them: "Really, Zach, you should have just told us. I mean, we've all been in that situation before. I don't blame you for avoiding it. I mean, really annoying girls give me their numbers all the time, and I have to worry about disappointing them, or hurting their feelings, or—"
"No, no, no, no." Zach shook his head vehemently, glancing nervously at the bedside table which held an open bar of chocolate and a very important scrap of napkin, "It's not like that. I like her. I do." He thought about it, "I really like her. I just…you see…I don't know what to say." He stuffed a pillow over his face.
Kevin tentatively asked the frazzled blonde, "And how long have you been avoiding this?"
"Tmoo fais" Came a muffled voice.
"Repeat that?"
The billow was lifted briefly, "Two days."
Once again, the guys exchanged a knowing look. Two days ago had been the café day. There was their answer. They also all knew, right then, that they were going to get Zach to call this girl. After all, they had never met someone who could turn him pink like that.
So, when Jason got a (somewhat devious) idea, he followed it through, pointedly asking, "Zach, does it occur to you that, after two days and no call, this girl may have forgotten you?"
"Forgotten!?" Zach near shot upright on the bed, his voice rising at least an octave. He had been so preoccupied with the thought of her for the past few days that it hadn't even crossed his thoughts that she might not even remember him.
That thought kind of hurt. A little. Just a tiny sting, which felt a lot like rejection.
As the guys turned to leave the room, Nick grinned and said, "However, there's always a chance that she hasn't. But if you put off this calling thing for much longer, you may not be so lucky."
Panicked, Zach was already reaching for the phone.
***
Ami was out of peppermints.
She usually kept them in her desk drawer (along with other things, like a dictionary, her appointments book and a boatload or so of pencils), where they were easy to get at whenever she got the urge to eat one.
Three days ago, her peppermint cravings had come about twice a week.
Lately, however, they had been constant.
In fact, over the past two days, Ami had barely gone an hour without popping one of the small red-and-white candies into her mouth, to the point of keeping a stash in her purse as well as her desk drawer.
And now, oh the agony, she was out of them.
If she were being completely honest with herself, she would admit that it wasn't so much the flavor that she couldn't stand to be without, but the delicious insanity that always came with it.
And she was certainly insane. After all, it was absolutely crazy behavior to be haunted by eyes. Green eyes, to be precise. Clever, bright green eyes that came with crinkly pulled-back blonde hair and the smell, the glorious, miraculous smell of peppermint.
When she had first noticed that peppermints elicited such thoughts, she had been determined to stop eating them, deciding that it was simply not healthy to constantly think of a guy whose name she didn't even know. She had truly tried to quit, but she seemed to be totally addicted to the peppermints. So, when she had finished them off, she had come to the decision not to buy more, thinking that she could force herself not to eat them and, therefore, force herself not to think of him.
Her master plan had backfired, because she still found herself thinking of him. However, without the dreamy inducement of peppermints, her thoughts were far harsher and more realistic.
For instance, she thought that, if they ever met again, he wouldn't possibly be nearly as interested in her as she was in him. He couldn't. After all, from her memory of the moments at the café, he had seemed brazen and bold and not nervous at all, and all he liked about her was her perfume. (Ami, like every human being, had relatively selective memory when she was upset, or else she would have remembered that he had not, in fact, been "brazen and bold and not nervous at all," and had been stumbling over his words every bit as much as she had been over hers. As it was, this did not occur to her.)
Anyway, if his level of attractiveness was anything to go on, he was probably very experienced at relationships and—she blushed at the thought—other things; so why would he go for clearly shy, inexperienced, mousy little Ami Mizuno? He wouldn't, that's why.
Furthermore, none of this speculation mattered in the least, because she would never see him again. In fact, she was pretty sure he had—
"Ami! The phone's for you. It's a male!"
—forgotten all about her and the—
Wait.
What?
And, more to the point: Who?
***
Ten Minutes Earlier
Ring Ring
"La dee da dee dum dee da dee dum..."
Ring Ring
"...dee da dee la dee da..."
Ring Ring
"…dum dee da…"
Ring Ring
"All right already!" Lita Kino cried, interrupted from her cooking-while-nonsensically-singing (which, to the causal observer, would probably have been a good thing, because she was woefully off key).
Putting down her wooden stirring spoon, Lita picked up the kitchen phone, cradling it between her shoulder and her ear as she began to stir the mixture in her bowl yet again.
"Hello?" She asked.
The voice on the other side of the line sounded definitively masculine, "Uh, hi. Who would I be speaking to?"
"Lita Kino—why?"
"Could I please speak to Ami Mizuno?"
Lita's eyebrows jumped up on her forehead, and she once again put down her spoon in order to give the man her full attention. This was Ami they were talking about, not Mina. It seemed irrational that a random guy Lita had never heard of would be calling her blue-haired friend. Therefore, she asked what seemed to her to be the next logical question.
"Does Ami know you?"
It should have been an easy question. For some reason, it wasn't.
"Well, you see…we met…but…I think…she doesn't…I don't…we haven't...but I…"
"Let's see if this question's any simpler: What do you want with Ami?"
The young man seemed to be uncertain of that, too. In fact, he was giving Lita (who liked things to be solid, concrete, and make sense) an altogether bad impression of his intentions, which prompted her to go on the defensive:
"If you expect us to just sit back and let some creeper hurt our Ami, you've got another thing coming. And I swear, if you—"
"Who's on the phone, Lita?" Mina had entered the kitchen while Lita had been busy with her tirade.
Lita cut her rant short, glancing at Mina and replying, "Some random guy who wants to talk to Ami. He doesn't seem to be sure that she even knows him, though."
Instead of the outraged look that Lita had expected, Mina just looked devious, and, flicking a strand of long blonde hair over her shoulder with a well-manicured finger, imperiously demanded the phone.
Her voice was disgustingly sweet, "I'm terribly sorry about my dear friend here. She's just a bit overprotective. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me your name?"
"Zachary Tanzan, but I—"
"Shush. Now, you don't happen to be that lovely young man who Ami met at the Blue Moon Café, are you?"
"Well, yes, say, are you—"
Lita was fed up with this confusing conversation, "Mina, if you don't tell me what is going on right this instant…"
"What was your drink?" Mina asked into the phone.
Serena now entered the kitchen dramatically, whining rather loudly about how Rei had kicked her out of her own bedroom, and the world is so unfair, and why is everyone out to get her, and…
From the other side of the phone: "Peppermint tea, and if you would only…"
Mina just smiled and, covering the mouthpiece of the phone, looked up.
Everyone went silent.
"Serena, tell Ami that there's a guy on the phone for her."
Serena looked at first surprised, then elated. She skipped out of the kitchen, right up to the (closed) door of the room that Ami, Rei and Lita shared.
"Ami! The phone's for you. It's a male!"
TBC
A/N: So there's part one. Part 2 will be coming soon. By the way: if you looked at this within the first few hours of its being published, you may have noticed that it was longer. I decided to stop it at a different point, so as to make the parts more even. So, if you read the part that was up before, you officially have a sneak peak (I rather long one, I daresay) at the next chapter. For the rest of you, you'll just have to wait.
Also, I humbly implore you to review. The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll put up part 2 (nothing like a bribe, huh?)!
Make an author happy!
I remain,
~FB~