It was amazing how after three years of marriage, he was still learning things about his wife. This, of course, was on top of knowing her for close to 7 years in total. Sure two of those years had been spent studying abroad (they hadn't really spoken to each other then) and maybe the first two had been more about bickering like school children than actually getting to know each other. He'd fondly deemed it childhood sweethearts. Most of that title had come around when Motoki spilled the beans at their wedding reception that the blond had been eyeing him from the get-go. Hesitantly, he had admitted the beginnings of attraction back then as well.
There had been whisperings that night. He'd never known how easily he could have lost her to another. Several names had been whispered behind gloved hands
It made sense. As a teenager, she'd been undeniably pretty with more personality and spunk than anyone like her should ever have. As a woman, she was breathtaking. The first time he'd seen her since Harvard, he could barely keep the shock from his face. He'd never forget the short Azubu tech skirt flirting with the wind. Nor the way her silly pigtails stretched nearly to the floor and actually had the audacity to tear the sunlight to ribbons of color. The memory of her puffy red eyes and chipped nail polish had been obliterated in an ocean of morning dawn blue. The childish grin beamed on her face, as if she'd been relieved to see him.
They'd shared a few thoughts, him fighting to keep the meeting casual. The years had been nothing but adoring to her, lavishing the once short frame with lithe curves and an otherworldly confidence. Rather than challenge him, as she had done in the past, she was reserved and funny –even clever. He'd been smitten by the crush almost instantly, and had all but beaten Motoki down in the drive to get her number.
Ever since, it seemed those minx eyes had been laughing at some secret joke. Not that he'd ever complained. Their courtship had been beautiful disaster, and his sides had never stopped aching. The girl was too much life, too much spontaneity for someone as calm and collected as he had been to deal with properly. The time in America had taught him many things, though, and one had been to allow those feelings to show, to be honest and forthright, and to see her for what she was rather than what he expected her to be. Rather than explode at him, as maybe she would have in her younger years, the woman would simply answer in kind without fear.
They'd fought, they'd laughed, they'd cried together. And in one of those moments, beneath the light of a full moon, he'd begged for her. Three years later felt like a lifetime of this same craziness his little chaos bunny could concoct in that beautiful head of hers. He'd learned so much from her –and not the simple things a man normally learns from his wife. Where some girls learned to cook, she could wage all-out war from a laptop and conquer worlds as if military strategy had been invented solely by her. And don't even get started when those crazy friends were around. Some girls learned how to sew, but his Usako could business network on a level normally reserved for myths and legends. Some girls felt looking nice belonged on the highest priority rung, but though his Usako did maintain her stunning body to the brink of locking her in a closet, this priority was not as high on her list. About a year ago, they'd been caught in a gang fight on the way home from the market, and she'd knocked the living hell out of the combatants without batting an eyelash.
Yes, that one still bothered him.
There had been other things. As the nights grew darker, and the wind began to rage, the twinkle glimmered in the back of her eyes, and faded. It had been slow in the beginning, a tiny whine at the sudden drop, perhaps a muttered curse as frigid air licked at her. Everyone had said it would be so mild this year, not even a chance of snow so far…
They had been wrong. In all his wonderings with his bride, he'd failed to notice the sudden rise in crime, the shocking events that led to the downfall of the city. Snow began to fall, the populace began to fight, and all hell broke loose.
Perhaps the most stunning thing he'd learned, and maybe the only thing that seemed to make sense, was the moment their world exploded in color and light, and the legendary Senshi stood in her wake. He had balked. He had nearly passed out. Of all the girls he could have met once home from America, how could it possibly have been the glittering soldier? Yet her laugh, her smile, her beautiful mind made sense as she'd calmly stepped forward.
As the light had grown, as the snow had ceased to blow, the stirrings had begun in the back of his mind. Whispered memories long dead rose from the graveyard of his mind and came like specters in fog. He had learned so much about his wife, but had never known the cause of her laughing smile, the confidence in him she'd always had.
Now, standing at her side, he knew the truth. Their fight with Beryl had left him incapacitated, and she had allowed this to pass knowing someday that he would return. She had allowed him the space he'd so desperately needed to find his way in this life.
It was a comfort to know, all roads led to her. Of course, the glowing crystal palace was a nice luxury, and the spare rooms for their friends came in handy. It was family and laughter, and catching up on the meaning of those names from their reception, the things whispered before he entered a room.
It was nice to know she'd learned things too.