Sorry about the first posting! I didn't know the format was so off!

A/N: So it's been like…10 years? I don't even know. I'm trying to get back into writing. This is the first thing I've written in over a decade. I don't know if I've still 'got it.' It's hard to come back to something that you haven't exercised in. Life was hell…I died. That wasn't fun. Things completely changed. Some for the best and some for the worst. I'm not me anymore. That's been tough to come to grips with. But I know I should be happy with everything I have. I live a very good life. A life that people dream of. But, I still feel empty. Well, I don't want to write a whole pity party. Essentially, I'm going to try and write. I'm sure I'll be posting up crap for a while, until I find my voice.

Note: As the chapter indicates, this entire chapter is focused on one character. I want to flush out the characters more so you understand the motivations of their future choices. Hopefully it works out the way I want.

As One

Chapter 2

Drops of Jupiter

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"`~ , , ,~'"

The steady drip from the faucet echoed through the hospital room. The water would hit with a resounding splash as it fell into the drain. The faucet must be broken, thought Makoto. She slowly made her way to the counter and twisted the handle; it was already tightened. She sighed and decided to put a little more pressure on the knob. A weird creak and scratching noise expelled. She'd broken it. She'd used to much muscle. She looked at the knob in her hand. Why am I always breaking things? I try to fix it, but I end up breaking it. I break everything. She put the broken handle next to the sink; the water still dripping. It didn't even make a difference.

After The Officer had dismissed them, the girls went to the hospital waiting room. None of them spoke. They sat quietly until the Tsukino's arrived. There'd been a large uproar between the Tsukino's, the police, the doctors, and the girls. Questions flew and bounced around and even more people began arriving. After a couple of hours, the doctor had come out to brief them on her condition. Then they started allowing visitors. The trio waited until her family gave them permission to go. The girls were walking to her room when they were suddenly blocked...

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Makoto shook her head, attempting to rid herself of the memory. It was early morning now, probably around 5 or 6. On the windowsill sat a small dying potted plant. Probably left by the person before. The brunette picked up the small plant and went back to the dripping faucet. She placed the plant inside the sink, the drops falling onto the dry dirt.

"I'm not sure what to say," she said. She was quiet for a moment, searching for words. "Did I ever tell you I was adopted?" Makoto fished out her wallet. She took out a roughly cut picture. "She was American. I was sitting in the orphanage when she came..."

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Ms. Takei wacked Odawara Makoto on top of the head with a rolled-up magazine.

"Again! Why? Always, always, you are fighting!" she bellowed fustratedly. She shook her head, "You promised, no more fights!" Makoto didn't respond. She knew better. Adults never listen. They never believed her. "I don't have time for this," the coordinator sighed, "We have visitations today." She brought Makoto to the main hall and sat her down outside of the "Day Care" room, she would wait there until Ms. Takei was done with the day's appointments.

The child leaned her head back on the wall and stared up at the ceiling. She wondered how long she would have to wait to get placed with another family. She wondered how long they'd keep her. She wondered how long it would be until she accidentally broke something.

At 9 years old she towered over her peers at four foot nine. Not only was she tall, she was strong as well. She had been brought back from three foster families because of it. Once she was playing tag and the boy she "tagged back" ended up in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder. She didn't mean to hurt him; she was just playing. But the Abe's didn't believe her. The other four times Makoto was sent back because of the fights. She never instigated them, her peers either picked on her or she was attempting to save someone from being picked on. With the Nemu's, they'd brought her back because she broke another foster kid's nose; he deserved it.

Makoto could hear Ms. Takei speaking to someone further down the hall. It must be the appointment Ms. Takei was talking about. Another baby was going to be adopted. Lucky. She was too old to be adopted now, they only want babies. She could hear the conversation and footsteps coming closer. Then it stopped. She heard someone gasp.

Makoto looked down the hall to see a very dark-skinned woman staring at her. She had extremely curly hair, it was short and looked springy. The woman's eyes were wide with tears, she was covering her mouth with her hands, and she looked surprised. Suddenly, she started running towards Makoto. The little girl was scared, she looked around wondering if something was behind her. But then lady stopped right in front of her. She took Makoto's hands in hers and started speaking. But she couldn't understand what the woman was saying.

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Makoto sighed softly and put the photo back. She picked up the plant and touched the soil. That's a good amount, don't want to drown it. She put the plant back on the windowsill.

Her mind began to drift to the earlier encounter. The girls had found the hallway blocked off by Shingo, Naru, and guy she didn't know. Usagi's little brother directed them to "stop."

Makoto pushed the memory away.

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A few days after meeting the lady, Makoto found herself sitting in the passenger's seat. The woman had introduced herself. She put her hand on her chest and recited very slowly, "Watashi-no-nama-eha Celeste Green Kino." Makoto mirrored the woman's actions and introduced herself. Once the child had given her name, the woman continued, "Watashi wa ni-hongo ga jō-zu-de wa ari-ma-sen," (I don't speak Japanese well). Celeste did her best to enunciate each syllable the best she could as they were driving. "Ei-go o hana-se-masu ka?" She asked. Makoto shook her head, no she did not speak English.

The first few days were difficult. The two couldn't understand each other. Celeste pantomimed and tried to pronounce the phrases in Japanese she had googled. The transition into life with Celeste was quick. She had already registered her for school and hired a tutor for them both; to teach her Japanese and Makoto English.

Celeste Kino was an American from Texas. She was half Black and half Japanese. She said she moved to Japan a year ago with her husband, a naval officer. They lived just outside the base in a beautiful two-story home. Celeste was unable to have children of her own and she'd wanted children since she was young. Currently her husband was deployed overseas. And despite being his wife, she did not have the clearance to know the details about his deployment such as where, when, and what. So, it was just the two women in the house. They laughed, danced, sang, cooked, it was a dream come true. But of course, it was only a matter of time that she got into a fight at school.

Makoto sat in the office silently, tears falling from her face. She's gonna return me now. She won't want me anymore. When Celeste arrived, the principal told her that there was an "altercation" and another student had been injured. Surprisingly, the school did not expel her, instead they suspended her for a week.

When the two finally arrived at the house Makoto went to the kitchen, picked up a trash bag, and walked to her room.

"What're you doing?" Celeste asked.

"Packing my stuff."

"For what?"

"To go back to the orphanage," she answered quietly.

"Why?"

"Because...I'm...trouble...you don't want me anymore."

"Now listen here!" It was the first time Celeste had ever raised her voice to Makoto. She walked over and ripped the trash bag out of the girl's hand. "Don't you ever, ever, think that I don't want you! You're my daughter," she huffed. She threw the bag into one of the cabinets and took a deep breath. Taking the girl's arm, she led her over to the breakfast bar. Continuing to hold hands they sat. Celeste asked softly, "Gakkō de nani ga okotta ka oshietekudasai" (Tell me what happened at school). At the end of the conversation, Celeste enrolled her into several martial arts classes.

"You need to learn how to control your strength," she told her. It was likely, the girl had no idea how much force she was using.

Her mom was right. Her sensei told said she was very strong. So what seemed normal to her, wasn't what was normal for others. He taught her how to hold back, learned how to protect herself without using so much physical strength. Out of all the martial arts she took, she excelled at Judo. She won competitions and her mother came to them all. Before the first year was over, Makoto was officially adopted, and donned her mom's last name. There was no one Celeste loved more than her daughter and there was no one Makoto loved more than her mother.

When Roger Green left Japan he had a wife, when he returned, he had a wife and a 13 year-old daughter. He was angry. He refused to talk to the girl nor would he acknowledge her presence. He stomped around the house, ordering his wife around, complaining about the house, cursing about work. Celeste ignored his temper tantrums. She reasoned he was having difficulty transitioning back to domestic life.

One day Makoto came home to hear Roger yelling, "TAKE HER BACK, NOW! I want that Jap girl out of my house!"

"Stop it!" she heard her mother yell back. The sound of a slap echoed through the house.

"Mom!" Makoto threw her backpack to the floor and raced upstairs. Celeste was on all fours picking herself up. "Mom! Mom, are you okay? Okāsan daijōbu!?"

"When you are in my house you speak English, do you hear me?"

Celeste was on her feet by then. She pushed Makoto behind her.

"Don't you speak to her like that." She said softly. She stared at Roger, unmoving.

"Tomorrow," he growled. They could hear him walk down the steps and leave the house.

Celeste took a moment to breath before looking back at her daughter.

"He was never like this before," she told her. She walked Makoto to her room. "I need you to pack your things okay?" she whispered. She made her way into her daughter's closet and took out two large suitcases.

Prior to her years with Celeste, Makoto would have said that she was a professional packer. She had packed and unpacked so many times she'd gotten it down to less than 5 minutes. Now, she couldn't seem to remember what she was supposed to do. She felt hot tears against her cheeks. But It made sense, Roger's her husband. They had been together since Celeste was 19 and she wasn't even her real daughter.

Makoto carried her suitcase downstairs and walked to the driveway. Celeste was already outside. She was putting bags into the trunk of the white SUV.

Celeste waved her daughter over, "Come on, come on. We need to hurry."

"Why're there so many bags?"

"Well, I want to make sure we're covered. I don't know where we're going yet." She picked up Makoto's suitcases and put them in. Celeste, noticing the girl's confusion, began to apologize. "I'm sorry Mako-chan, but...we can't stay here. It's not safe. And I...I know you've been moved so many times in your life. I promised myself, I said I wouldn't do that. I'd give you a family, I said you'd have a home. And I cant...I can't give you that here. We need to make a home, just you and me, somewhere safe...maybe go to Juban or back to Texas."

"You're not...you're not taking me back?"

"What?" She gasped, "Why would I-" she grabbed her child's shoulder's. She bent down to her eye level. "You are my life Makoto, my world." She cupped her daughters face. "I love you more than anything. You're my daughter. Everything else, it doesn't matter."

"What. are. you. doing." The words were clipped, deep, and angry. Roger had come back from work early. His eyes moved from the open trunk filled with bags, to his wife and the pre-teen.

Celeste stood up straight. She placed one hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Going. We're leaving."

"You're choosing that girl over me? Over me?" Celeste nodded in confirmation. "What? How could you do that?" He was screaming, "Do you know what I've done for you? What I sacrificed?" He pounded his chest for emphasis, "You're going to leave me? No, no" He shook his head, his eyes dark. "No you're not."

He stalked over to his wife and lifted his hand to hit her. Makoto moved quickly, tackling him to the ground. She was strong, but compared to a 30 year old navy man, she was out of her depth. She had her arms wrapped around his stomach, her head to the left side. He grabbed her by her waist and flipped her over his head; he used Makoto's running momentum against her. She landed a few feet away from him on her back, breathe knocked out of her. She was used to being thrown on a mat, not hard ground. She took several breaths and slowly rolled over on her stomach, pushing herself up. She could her mom yelling in the background. She was pulling her feet up, hands pushing up the front half of her body and lifted her head. She froze. Roger stood a few feet away, his firearm pointed at her.

"If you're gone, everything will go back to how it was. Everything will go back. Everything will go back. Everything will be okay. Everything. It's your fault things changed," he yelled wildly.

The rest of the world seemed to fade away. All she could see was the gun pointed at her. All she could hear was his ranting. Everything moved in slow motion. She saw his finger pushing down the trigger. The blast of smoke, and then a green cotton shirt. There was a thud. Makoto looked down to see her mom, face up, on the ground, blood seeping through her shirt.

She can't remember what happened next. One second, she was staring at her mother in shock, the other she was standing over Roger; his eyes wide open, choking on blood. Somehow, she ended back with her mom, cradling her head in her lap. Her mom's voice was raspy when she spoke.

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Makoto watched as more people began making their way across the courtyard. The doctors were likely seeing their first set of patients. She knew the windows, although clear on her side, would look black to those on the outside, for patient privacy. She heard a small creak, the brunette looked to the sink. That sink definitely needs to be fixed. It'll probably burst if they don't.

Her mind flashed back to confrontation earlier. How the three girls were blocked in the hallway. The hateful words spat by Shingo and Naru. What they'd said to them. How she'd try to defend Amy and Rei.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Makoto shouted.

"Or you'll what?" Shingo spat. He took a step forward, looking up at the towering teen. "What're you gonna do? Kill me? Killer. Kino. Murdering Makoto. That's what they used to call you, right?"

She felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. She couldn't breathe.

"Shingo, Naru, Umino come on, let them get their turn." They had received a reprieve in the form of Mr. Tsukino. He was too far away to hear the conversation, but being a father, he wanted to allow all his daughters friends have time.

Naru glared at them. Amy turned to leave, and Rei was...gone- she'd disappeared in the midst of it all. It was how she ended up in Usagi's room alone.

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She turned around and walked over to Usagi's bed side and sat down. "I don't think I've told any of you guys that." The brunette started at her friend. It was the first time she'd actually looked at her. The wires that were hooked up, the needles that supplied her with the necessary nutrients. She cleared her throat.

"Hey..." She smiled. "Remember that time I tried teaching you how to bake cookies? You burnt all of them," she laughed. "Remember what I said?" She paused as if waiting for her friend to reply. "I said 'God you're so hopeless...I want you to know you're not. You're not hopeless. 6 months ago I was alone, I had no one and then you...you sat next to me. You sat next to me, you didn't flinch. You were my friend when no one else would be. Usagi please don't leave yet. You still need to, to teach me how to burn all the rest of my dishes..." Makoto laughed softly trying to lighten the mood, but seeing her friend lying there she couldn't help but sob.