Note: This story is a continuation of Rain, and is set in the Awakening AU. It explores the possibility that the Shitennou were freed from the Dark Kingdom and given back their bodies, as opposed to being turned into stones.
I.
As he turns his head to look at her, his tinted lenses reflect the sunlight coming through the windshield of his car.
"Look who's awake."
He observes her through his aviator sunglasses, offers her a warm smile. She sits up straight, stretches, smiles right back at him.
"Did I… fall asleep?" she asks him, yawning as he drives on.
"You did," Menewa replies. "You were out for a good twenty minutes. I guess you're still a bit jet-lagged."
Makoto just stares at him, admires the curve of his hair, going over his right shoulder. His neck, and the silver feather dangling from his ear.
Unable to resist, she draws nearer, and kisses the skin right underneath his earring.
"I had a dream about you," she tells him, pulling back.
"Oh? What was I doing?"
"You were on a horse. In full Native American garb."
"Really?" he laughs. "How cliché."
"Yes, you had beading and feathers and this amazing necklace over your bare chest…"
"Bare chest, huh?"
She bites her lower lip.
"And you were just riding across a great plain, like they do in westerns. Your hair was floating in the wind like a flag and you looked so majestic."
"Did I have an eagle on my arm?"
"No."
"That's too bad."
"I'd like to see you on a horse," Makoto says. "Do you know horseback riding at all?"
"Yeah, I do."
"So you're a cowboy?"
"I'm a pretty good rider," he says, taking his eyes off the road to smirk deviously at her.
She blushes almost instantly.
"Menewa…!"
Grinning, he turns the steering wheel, engages in a curb.
"Hey, speaking of dreams," Makoto begins. "Are you still having those nightmares? About the Dark Kingdom?"
His smile kind of fades, but he doesn't grow completely serious. It's such a nice day.
"Sometimes. They've lessened, though."
"Just give it some time."
"Yeah. I guess my subconscious is still trying to purge the poison. It's really weird, you know, I remember everything I did while under Beryl's influence, and yet… I can picture it all in my mind, but it's like I'm standing outside of myself."
"Like it wasn't really you?"
"No, it was me, Makoto. Just… A different part of me. A part I want dead and buried forever."
"The Silver Crystal healed you and the other Shitennou. Your bodies, and your minds."
"Not completely. There are things I saw, Makoto, things I did, and that were done to me, that have left a scar. Some of them, my mind has managed to shut off. Others, I can still remember in vivid detail."
He pauses, stares blankly at the highway.
Don't think about it.
"Though I know it's all over now," he reasons. "I'm no longer one of Beryl's Generals. Because you saved me."
"It was all thanks to Usagi and Mamoru."
"And the combined power of the Senshi."
Menewa reaches for her cheek, strokes it longingly.
"But above all, thanks to you, Sailor Jupiter."
He drives on in silence, while Makoto watches the endless fields, power lines and farmlands of Oklahoma rush by. There's a song on the radio, but she doesn't know what it is. There's something very fitting about it, like it was made to be listened to on the road. So she turns up the volume and settles back in her leather seat.
"I see you like Pearl Jam," Menewa observes.
"Is that what it is?"
"Yep. You don't know your grunge, thunder lady. You're missing out."
"I thought you were into 80s hair bands."
"For sure, those were the days. But I enjoy other stuff, too."
"Tell me, how long do we have until we reach Gloss Mountains?" she suddenly inquires, fascinated by the yellow marking on the asphalt as it stretches out for miles ahead.
"Oh, about three hours. But we're making a stop along the way, while we're passing through Creek County. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Where are we stopping?"
"Over at my grandpa's house. He lives in the middle of nowhere, which is pretty much where we're at right now. We'll be reaching his place soon."
"What's his name, again?"
"Chekilli. He's a healer, you know, a shaman, one of the last. After my grandmother passed away, he kind of retreated in his middle-of-nowhere house. Used to spend a lot of time going around different places, giving consultations, offering treatment, stuff like that. But now he stopped, he's not very active anymore. Anyway, I haven't seen him in a long time, and I want you to meet him."
"I'd love to. I really liked your parents. Your mother especially. She was so kind to me."
"I think she liked you, too, Makoto. Say, what did you two talk about while I stepped out with my daddy? Been meaning to ask you."
"Well, she held my hands in hers and asked me to take good care of you. She said some very nice things about you. That aside from being, quote, 'extraordinarily handsome', you're good-hearted, open, and brave."
"She sure knows how to sell me off."
"She did also mention that you tend to be a little impulsive and disorderly. That I'd have to watch out for that."
"Thanks, ma."
"I'll keep you in check."
"I'm sure you will."
He leans over and tries to kiss her, but she pushes him away.
"Hey, watch the road, you goofball!"
"Forget the road," he answers, sneaking his hand under her shirt.
His touch makes her shiver, but then again, so does the idea of crashing into a ditch.
"You don't want to damage this nice car, do you?" she argues.
Finally, he reconsiders.
"You're right. I should be more careful. You and I, we're expandable, but this baby, not a chance."
"Was it your father's car?"
"Nope. This here is the 1970 Nova SS Chevy he and I restored together before I moved to New York. It was in bad shape when I bought it. Some guy in Tulsa County sold it to me real cheap. It was all roughed up from street racing, though. I had to replace most everything. It took a while, but now it's in mint condition."
Both his hands are now back on the steering wheel. Makoto gives a sigh of relief.
"Why didn't you ask about it in New York?" he wonders.
"I was afraid you'd start rambling about it in technical detail like you do with planetarium projectors, but this wasn't so bad."
Menewa laughs, and takes a turn to the left, engages on a dirt road. He eventually reaches the dusty driveway of a modest-looking house with only a quarter of a fence around it. There are no trees or neighbours for miles around.
"I told you grandpa lives in the middle of nowhere," he says before parking the car.
After Menewa shuts down the engine, he takes off his sunglasses, carefully places them on top of the dashboard.
"I'd like you to wait here for a few minutes while I go talk to him alone. Can you do that for me?"
"Sure," Makoto answers.
"Thanks. We'll come see you."
He opens the door and is about to leave, but she stops him.
"Menewa?"
"Yeah?"
"You haven't spoken to him since you were taken by Beryl, have you?"
He shakes his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"I couldn't face him. Not after everything I did. The innocent people I hurt in Japan, and how I sold myself again, for the power to bend stars. But I can't keep hiding from him like this."
"What does he think happened to you?"
"Nothing," he shrugs. "Just that I forgot about him."
He smiles sadly, and steps out of the car.
Makoto watches Menewa as he walks around the car and heads for the front door of the house. He's wearing a slightly discoloured, worn-out Harley Davidson t-shirt, which in theory shouldn't look this good on him. But it does, and she enjoys the loose neckline and the way the wind makes the cotton fabric cling to his body. A rush of air enters the car through the open door, and she just rests her head against the window, waiting.
He takes a deep breath, and knocks. No answer. He tries again, harder this time, and just when he begins to worry, Menewa's grandfather finally opens the door. His hair is tied back in a braid, as it has always been.
"I'm back," Menewa simply states, at a loss for words.
How do you begin?
They stare each other down, like two buffalos about to duel. Who will give in first? The look on the old man's face is stern. It's the same look he used to give his grandson when he'd scold him for getting into petty fights just to prove he could live up to the meaning of his name.
"You were gone a long time," Chekilli says, speaking to him in Creek.
"I… I know, and… I'm really sorry, grandpa. I…"
I was trapped in the shadows.
"Stop talking."
"Please, I…"
Before he can continue, the old man suddenly clasps him his arms.
"Menewa," he breathes, squeezing him tightly.
From the car, Makoto sees Chekilli embracing Menewa, stroking his hair, touching his face. As though he cannot believe his grandson's there, in the flesh. As though he had become but a myth to him.
How loved he is.
"You are changed," Menewa's grandfather says, reading his eyes.
"You can tell…?"
He switches to English.
"I could always tell, little warrior. Whenever you lied or hid your anger. This is no different."
"I've been through a lot, grandfather."
"I know."
"I don't even know how to explain it all to you."
"You don't have to. You owe me no explanation."
"…What do you mean?"
He pushes back Menewa's hair, uncovers his forehead.
"I've always known that you were a gift to me. To our family. You were no ordinary boy. And look at you now, a man. So tall and dignified. You have the strength and poise of our ancestors. Your gaze is as deep as the roots of a mountain, and your hands and arms are as solid as the branches of an oak. You do not belong to us, Menewa. But we belong to you. Have you found your destiny?"
"Yes."
A Master worth serving.
"I am glad to hear it."
"I should have called you."
"You came to me when you were ready."
The old man's trembling hand inspects his grandson's Nephrite pendent.
"I see you've kept your stone."
"It was destroyed, grandfather…"
Shattered by evil.
"…but returned to me when I deserved it once again."
"Because it is a part of you. As soon as I found it, I knew it belonged to you," Chekilli says. "That's why I gave it to you."
"You never told me."
"Not everything needs to be said, little warrior."
"Do you forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive."
"I beg of you," Menewa pleads. "Accept my apologies. I alone know their nature."
He seems stunned. But in the wisdom of his years, Chekilli has learned not to ask questions that demand painful answers.
"I forgive you, Menewa," he says, and there are tears in his grandson's eyes.
"Grandfather, I… I've brought someone with me. I'd like you to meet her."
"Who is it?"
"The other half of my soul."
He leads his grandfather into the driveway, and Makoto gets out of the car. She stands still, holding the door, unsure of what to do.
"Makoto, this is my grandfather," Menewa says.
Chekilli moves a little closer, and Makoto bows her head politely. She is not accustomed to shaking people's hands.
"Grandfather, this is Makoto."
Formalities are a waste of time. Chekilli looks at her, examine her countenance, says nothing at all. Not yet.
"Menewa often mentions you," Makoto says. "I'm honoured to meet you."
"Where are you from?" he inquires at last.
"Japan."
"Is that where you're living now, Menewa?"
He doesn't turn to look at his grandson.
"Yes."
"I see."
She recognizes her lover's strength in the old man's eyes. The same resilience and self-assurance. Though Chekilli's more somber than Menewa, less inclined to joke around.
"I'm glad you're here, Makoto. You allow me to see my grandson, complete."
Lowering her eyes, Makoto stares down at the ground.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"I can perceive your energy. It takes the shape of a vast celestial body, with a storm at its center. You have a powerful heart."
Now she meets his gaze, nods respectfully.
Joining her, Menewa puts his arm around her waist.
"She's the toughest person I know," he proudly declares.
"So where are you two headed?" Chekilli asks, folding his arms.
"Gloss Mountains. I'm taking her stargazing. We're gonna drive over to Major County. I've been showing her the great state of Oklahoma."
"Good. It's important for her to see your lands."
"Yeah, I figured so, too."
After all, they are under his protection.
"There isn't much to look at around here, except for the landscape," Chekilli says, retreating. "But it's the one our people have loved for generations. I hope you enjoy it, Makoto."
And the next minute, he's gone.
II.
Red mesas, against a clear-blue sky.
Makoto stands beside Menewa, watching the horizon from the side the road. In the distance, she can see something sparkling back at her, like pieces of broken mirrors all along the slopes, so she squints, like she's trying to make sense of a mirage.
"The shiny stuff is selenite crystals," Menewa explains, wiping his sunglasses with the bottom of his t-shirt as he leans against the car. "And the white rings on the sides are gypsum. As you can see, Gloss Mountains aren't actual mountains, but mesas and buttes. They used to be referred to as the Shining Mountains, though, because of the crystals."
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool. Though not as impressive as your Mount Fuji."
"I love the colour. The bright oranges, the reds."
"I like 'em too."
"So are we going to climb one of them?"
"Of course. Don't you wanna see the stars tonight, thunder lady?"
"I do."
"Then let's go. I just stopped here for a minute so you could see the view."
"Is there a parking lot for visitors somewhere?"
"Yeah, in the State Park. Only we're not going there, you can't stay after dusk. I've got other plans. I have my own stargazing spot and hiking route. And a secret place to park my car."
"Oh?"
"I'm a local, remember?"
"You are."
"My grandfather and I used to come here every summer. Before the Park even existed, we'd stargaze from Cathedral Mountain. Then when they opened the area to the public, they said we couldn't stay overnight. Grandpa even got into a heated argument with a ranger, you know, about how these lands actually belong to us Natives, how they've got no right to tell us we can't be on the mesas after dark… Anyway, after that, we decided to ditch the Park and started stargazing from a mesa on the South Side, by following our own hiking trail. It's the perfect spot. You'll like it."
"Is it… legal?"
"Not exactly. Anyone asks, I'll show them my Hayden Planetarium employee card and say I'm here to collect data."
He turns to face her, pulls her gently to hold her against him.
"You can pretend you're my assistant. Tell them you've been to the Moon."
"That'll work."
"You're so pretty, they'll believe anything you say."
Menewa starts kissing her neck, and Makoto's legs feel like they're about to give in. She'd like to just fall into his arms, let him carry her to the top of any mountain or mesa he pleases.
"Shouldn't we get going?" she asks him. Her heart is racing.
"Yeah," he replies. "Sun's going down fast and I'd like to watch the sunset with you."
"Then what are we still standing here for?" she wonders.
"Good question."
He opens his eyes, and grins.
"Let's go, thunder lady."
An hour later, after a lengthy hike, they finally reach Menewa's stargazing spot. Just in time to see the sun sinking into night. The sky has taken on the warm colours of the mesas, which have now grown dark. Still glowing, the day star casts its last yellow rays, lingering, enduring, refusing to give in.
They sit at the edge of the mesa, their faces painted in gold by the afternoon light. At some point, Makoto distractedly begins to run her fingers through Menewa's hair.
"You've got so much of it," she says, unable to take her eyes off the sunset.
"Yeah, it's pretty dense."
"Ever tried braiding it like your grandfather?"
"Not since I was a kid. My mother and her friends liked to play around with my hair. They'd brush it and style it, and then as soon as they'd be done, I'd mess it up again."
"I wonder what you'd look like with two braids."
"You enjoy stereotypes, don't you?"
She bashfully looks up at him.
"Can I braid it, Menewa? Please?"
Amused, he considers her for a second.
"Sure."
"Really?"
"Knock yourself out," he says, and she immediately gets to work. Her hands move excitedly as she gathers half of his hair and splits it into three equal parts.
"Your grandfather seemed very wise," she tells him.
"He is."
"I felt as though he saw right through me. Like he knew exactly who I was."
"He views people's energy as a whole. Gets these images in his head. You know, he tried passing down his knowledge to me growing up, but I was always more interested in astronomy."
"How come he stopped working as a healer?"
"I think he feels guilty about my grandmother's death. He tried to cure her, and he couldn't. So I'm guessing maybe he feels like he failed her."
"But maybe it was just her time to go."
"It was. He just wasn't ready for it."
"Can you ever be?"
"At least he didn't…"
Makoto keeps braiding his hair.
"Didn't what?"
"What happened to her was not his fault."
She doesn't answer, and concentrates instead on what she's doing. For now, she wants this carefree moment to last.
The only hair ties she has in her pockets have flowers attached to them. Menewa doesn't protest, so she uses them to tie both his finished braids. Then she sits next to him, asks him to turn towards her so she can admire her masterpiece.
"You look adorable," she gushes.
"But do I still look like a Great Warrior?" he inquires with a spark of irony in his eyes.
"Naturally. Especially with those flowers."
He laughs out loud, and leans over to lay a kiss on Makoto's nose.
III.
When the astral sea finally appears above them, they lie down together to watch the tidal wave of stars. The world around them has faded, dimmed and humbled by darkness. Shimmering like a river, the Milky Way encases itself within Menewa's shifting eyes.
All the secrets he once knew, are now spread out before him like a map.
Everything Nephrite had uncovered, in the skies of Elysion.
Makoto senses how captivated Menewa is. He seems different, more focused. On the verge of a revelation. He peers at the stars like he's questioning each of them, like he is their keeper, their lord. When she asks about the constellations, he shows her Scorpius, traces its contour in the air with his finger. Then he tells her the names of all the brightest stars, and falls silent.
She slips her palm under his.
"Has all the knowledge you once possessed about the stars come back to you, Menewa?"
"It has."
"Do you regret the powers Beryl gave you?"
"They were extraordinary, but they came at a price. I would rather be free."
"Menewa, just how much of our past life do you remember?"
"Everything."
"Everything?"
"My memories of the Earth Kingdom were returned to me entirely."
He turns to the side, to stare into Makoto's eyes. She turns as well.
"What about you?" he asks. "How much do you remember?"
"All of it."
He appears concerned. It is one thing to know something, and another to be able to relive it in your mind.
"How can you do it, Makoto? How can you remember what I did to you, and still bear to look at me?"
She places her hand on his cheek.
"I am disgusted with myself," he continues. "How I turned against Endymion, and against you."
"Yes, you hurt me, Menewa. I remember how angry I was with you. And when I saw you again, as Beryl's general… I felt so betrayed."
"I gave in to her evil, twice."
"She manipulated you."
"I made my own choices. In both lives."
"You are too hard on yourself."
"How can you do it? How can you forgive me so easily?"
"It isn't easy."
"How can you forgive me at all?"
"When you love someone, you find a way to forgive. Because you're happy just to be in that person's presence… again."
"I don't deserve you," he whispers, feeling her face.
He gets closer, kisses her mouth and soon finds himself looking down upon her with the stars. Like he's become a part of the night sky.
"I killed you, Makoto," he whimpers, pinning her firmly to the ground. He buries his face into her chest.
She feels her heart pounding.
"I blasted stars into your body, pierced your flesh like it was nothing, like it was a mere piece of cloth."
He pulls on her shirt, then lets it go.
"I took your life," he says, "And held your ruined body in my arms."
He presses his mouth to hers again.
"And you, my love, you let me touch you, when I am not even worthy of looking at you."
Makoto wraps her arms around him, wants no distance to separate them.
"You let me fall into you," he laments.
"Nephrite."
Her voice, calling out that name, makes him suffer.
"Don't think about the past anymore," she says. "Forgive yourself."
He pulls away, she holds his face with both hands.
"How? It haunts me, Jupiter."
"Just put it behind you. We are Jupiter and Nephrite, but we are also Makoto and Menewa. We've been given a second chance. This life is as important as the previous one."
"Then I will honour you."
She smiles as he caresses her neck.
"I'm sure of it now," he says after a moment of stillness.
"Sure of what?"
"You were created by Ibofanaga. I see the splendour of the stars in you. You were made by the same hands that wove the Milky Way."
He lowers himself onto her again, as one of his braids slowly comes undone. Makoto notices how brightly the stars are shining behind him. Brighter than before.
It seems so unreal.
"You are wrong about something, Menewa," she says.
"What?"
"The powers Beryl gave you. They weren't so extraordinary."
He used to bend the stars.
"No?"
She shakes her head.
"Look at the sky. You are responsible for this sight. The stars are bowing to you, King of Stars."
He pushes himself off of her, lies on his back to study the constellations.
"And I, to them," he declares.
Makoto sits up, kneels at his side. She kisses his forehead, and his eyes soon meet hers.
Which is the mirror?
His eyes, or the heavens?
That's when she realizes.
The stars in the night sky, are merely a reflection, of what lies within her lover's gaze.