One week after her arrival at Namimori, Hotaru felt the pain begin again – first at the center of her body, then slowly spreading like a fire through her peripherals until her entire body burned.
For all that it hurt, however, Hotaru welcomed the pain because it meant that Setsuna was coming. Teleportation might have been faster, but the transformation required and the use of powers made it worse, so the alternative was to come as a civilian, with Pluto's powers used as minimally as possible.
The only way Pluto's presence could be lessened was for Setsuna to come in a coma, powers sealed away, and that was just unacceptable.
Which meant this was the best they could do, and she would have to deal with the pain.
Hotaru sweated, fingers trembling out of her control.
"Good spirits," Granny muttered, putting a hand to her forehead to check her temperature. It felt cool to her, but judging by the grimace the older woman made, she was burning up. "Just cancel the meeting, girl."
She shook her head. "It's the allergy," she mumbled.
It was a ridiculous excuse, and said much about how accepting Granny was to not question the absurdity of her statement.
The old woman frowned. "Are you sure you want to meet her?" she asked, eyes glinting hard as diamonds. "You don't have to. You don't."
Hotaru smiled weakly. "I do."
She wanted to see Setsuna again. She had to meet her.
Granny nearly vetoed and cancelled the entire thing when Hotaru threw up what little she had forced down in the morning, but Hotaru begged her not to. Shaking her head, Granny gave her privacy after bringing a cup of cool water for her to drink. She sipped at it, little mouthfuls of water trickling down her throat, and waited.
Hotaru didn't need to look out the window or receive a phone call to know when Setsuna was here – the pain did that for her, screaming as her soul, exposed like a raw nerve, was approached by the presence of another celestial being. Subdued power or not, her instincts shrieked at the threat of someone divine. Someone powerful and dangerous.
And what words better described Meiou Setsuna than powerful and dangerous?
It might have been better for someone else to come, that was true. Setsuna's bloodline was that of the time god's, and she was inherently powerful due to her birthright. They all were, but the old god's blood was particularly strong in Pluto.
But Pluto's domain was also closer to that of Saturn's, and the theory was that by being the most similar in nature – time and death, the Underworld and destruction – there would be less of a reaction.
Setsuna knew of the latter, but she had been reluctant nonetheless, fearing that the former would hurt her too much.
In the end Hotaru requested that Setsuna come, and never able to resist, Setsuna had agreed.
One week without and the pain was already terrible, that of her soul screaming in protest. She bore it, clenching her teeth and silently willing it to stand down. Setsuna meant her no harm, would never mean her harm on purpose.
But the moment Setsuna walked in, elegant in apparel as always and so beautiful, Hotaru's eyes filled with tears.
"Setsuna-mama," she mumbled, voice muffled with the effort to not cry.
"Hotaru," Setsuna very nearly rasped, tears roughening her words.
They stayed as close to each other as they could, just separated by just the distance of a coffee table. Hotaru ached to hug Setsuna, to feel her warmth and know she was there, for real.
The pain, however, was more than a reminder for both why she shouldn't do that, and proof of her actually being here.
They had precious time together, and she spent a lot of time calling them. In the time they had together Hotaru had to go through what they could only do in person.
"Did I get better?" Hotaru asked, the most urgent priority for her. Setsuna had to be the one to come see her, and if she couldn't make it then Ami, because Hotaru wanted to know how she was doing. Was this worth it? Was it worth staying away from her family, for reasons other than to stop the pain?
Setsuna observed her with a barely-restrained desperation. "There's not much of a difference," she said reluctantly, wishing that it was not true yet being unable to lie.
In other words, no change to her frozen time. She clutched a cushion tightly to her chest and groaned, impatient. How long, then? Would she ever get better?
"You will recover," Setsuna promised, with the fierce certainty of someone who would take on the world to make it happen.
Logically Hotaru knew what she said was true. She would eventually – Saturn's soul would not let her stay broken forever. It was just the question of 'how long' that tormented her. Weeks? Months? . . . years?
Granny entered, holding a tray filled with snacks and tea. She set it down and poured out a few cups. Her 'grandson' had drifted off, not seen since the day before. It was a habit of his, Granny had said, not at all bothered by his disappearance.
"Thank you, Kawahira-san," said Setsuna, eyes still on Hotaru's face like she wanted to memorize every detail, sear it permanently into the back of her eyes.
Granny looked Setsuna up and down, and her eyes narrowed. "You're dressed quite nicely."
Setsuna always dressed nicely. Actually, even when she was a mess, she looked good. As Minako said once, Setsuna could have come through a hurricane and she would have still looked like she could be on the cover of a Vogue magazine.
Today she was dressed professionally, in a light grey pantsuit and a cream-colored blouse. The only jewelry she wore were small earrings, simple garnet studs that added color to her ensemble, and the promise ring she and the others had worn when they decided to raise Hotaru as a family.
"Thank you?" Setsuna inquired, recognizing the not-so-friendly intent lining Granny's words.
The older woman gave Setsuna a hard look. Setsuna did not retaliate with the same, but neither did she submit to the gaze. She merely held it, allowing her to see her as she was until Granny huffed.
"Hotaru-kun told me that she was allergic to you, and until now I thought it might have been her trying to tell me she couldn't stand the sight of you, or maybe that she was allergic to a perfume or something."
But Hotaru had been reacting for hours, and it worsened when Setsuna was near. Pale, drawn, shaking with pain –
Most would have assumed it to be a psychological thing, but Granny had seen how both of them desperately wanted to hold each other, how they had missed each other. She had heard Hotaru making phone calls, sharing even the smallest details and lighting up at the phone calls.
Seen Hotaru in pain today, yet insisting on seeing Setsuna.
She believed her, odd as it was, because it was true that Hotaru loved her parents, and her parents didn't want to not be with her.
Setsuna looked to Hotaru and then back at Granny. "If we could have done anything so she could have stayed with us, we would have," she said quietly.
Granny rolled her eyes and sipped at her tea, and the action was like permission for the tension to loosen.
"Yes, I see that now," she said gruffly, no longer an edge to her voice. "I admit, I'm no doctor, and the whole 'allergic to a person' thing still sounds like hogwash."
Neither of them could really say anything about that. It sounded odd to them, too, and they were living it.
"But sometimes truths are too weird to sound right," she continued on, a little huff at the end of her words as if she hated to admit that life caught her off-guard. "So here's the deal – you don't give up on this girl, understand? No matter how difficult it gets for you, no matter how long it takes – even if things never go back to how it used to be. You don't give up on her. Am I clear?"
Setsuna's lips slowly curved into a smile. "Understood."
After that, with her approval given and everything she had intended to say out, Granny shuffled out to give them time together, what precious moments they could snatch before it became too much for Hotaru to bear.
"She's a good person," Hotaru told Setsuna. She had told her parents and the other sailor scouts of this, but it had reassured Setsuna to meet for herself the other person taking care of her daughter, that was clear in the ease of her brows after Granny's approval had been given. Anyone who was willing to face down someone for a girl she had known for a week to set things straight was a person of dependable character.
"She certainly is," murmured Setsuna, a sad curve to her lips. "With a good heart and soul."
There was a thickness to her voice now.
"I missed you a lot, Setsuna-mama," Hotaru said. She always told them that she missed them, that she loved them, maybe a little desperate in case they ever forgot her, and they always told her the same – perhaps with a line of thought following a similar path – but every time was genuine, from the heart.
"Me too, Hotaru," Setsuna said, eyes glittering. "I missed you so much."
She reached for her adoptive mother, but faltered when the pain kept her from touching her. just a foot, maybe a little more – and her consciousness seemed to flicker with the effort it took to stay awake through the oppressive agony.
Meiou Setsuna saw Hotaru's efforts, and the look on her face was that of someone utterly heartbroken.
Hotaru gritted her teeth and smiled as brightly as she could. "It's really a nice place," she said, trying to reassure her. "I'll be okay."
A tear escaped her control and ran down her cheek. She hadn't even known that her eyes had been tearing up, but the dampness on her face was unmistakeable.
"Of course you will," Setsuna said thickly. "Of course you're going to be okay."
Hotaru lasted five more minutes before her limitations were pushed, and Setsuna, for all that both of them were reluctant to part, had to leave with frequent backward glances. Hotaru, leaning against the doorway, continued to wave.
As soon as Setsuna's car was out of sight, Hotaru blacked out.
When she came to, she was on one of the sofas on the first floor, a blanket tossed over her body. Kawahira, back from wherever he had gone, was peering down at her, bland curiosity on his face.
"So you really do love them," he mumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose.
There was no pain anymore, which told her that Setsuna was now far out and away from her, but Hotaru still felt weak. She pushed herself up into a sitting position.
"I do," she said softly.
It was more than just being a fellow soldier. They had been her lights in a world of darkness, the beings that lit up a lonely background with vibrant colors and gave her meaning beyond what had seemed like endless pain.
They were her family.
"Hmm," Kawahira hummed, fancy in his eyes. It was the kind of interest a child showed a pretty-colored insect that caught his eye on the road, or an oddly shaped rock. "Well, that explains why you're reacting so strongly."
Hotaru blinked. "What?"
Kawahira waved a hand as if it should have been obvious. "Usually, with the power of your birthright slumbering inside you right now and your soul remaining vulnerable, the exposure to the other guardians should be irritating, maybe a little painful."
But Hotaru was in terrible agony when in their presence.
"Yes, well, that's because you love them too much," he explained like it was evident for anyone. "You reach out to them, even when you're unprotected and could be swept up in their powers. Your love put you in more danger, and that's why the reactions are so strong. There's a difference between having your fingers close to the flames, and in the flames."
"Oh," Hotaru said dully. A difference in being irritated by the heat, and having the fire burn you. He was saying that she stuck her hands into the danger.
A stupid thing to do, but she couldn't very well stop loving them.
Kawahira shrugged. "If it's any consolation," he offered, bland as always in tone. "Their love for you also contributes to this whole overreaction going on."
Because they were also reaching for her, except their powers, untransformed and unused as they were around her, were still a threat to her soul.
Love had been what saved her, but it also caused her pain. A double-edged sword.
If she had been more fragile at heart, she might have believed that she wasn't destined to be loved, ever.
"It is," Hotaru murmured. Ironically, that knowledge gave her the strength to bear its implications. She would believe in her family, her future queen and her fellow guardians. She could be strong. "Thank you, Kawahira-san."
"Eh." He waved it off. "It's not like I can do anything to help you. Don't be so quick to thank me."
Hotaru gazed at him in contemplation. There, again, he was drawing the line. Helios had said he could be obfuscating, and he wasn't wrong on his assessment of the other guardian. Kawahira only explained what he wanted and didn't seem fond of expressions of gratitude.
He looked right back at her, bland-faced and bespectacled, as if silently saying he had nothing to hide – and by doing so revealing nothing.
"Riku!" came a shout from the direction of the kitchen, breaking the staring contest. "Is she up?!"
"Yes, Granny," he called back. "She's up."
"Tell her I made congee!" Granny shouted. "She can eat in bed if she wants to!"
Instead of telling her what his grandmother had said, he merely raised an eyebrow at her.
"I can go," Hotaru said, beginning to climb out of the sofa. She tried to stand, only for her knees to buckle. She landed back on the padded seats, thankfully not falling to the ground, but it was clear she wouldn't really be able to move any time soon.
"Not really," Kawahira pointed out unhelpfully, watching her struggle with amusement. "Granny, she's going to have to eat here."
Hotaru ended up having to do just that, when Granny came with a tray holding a bowl of congee and a few side dishes for flavor.
AN: Forgot to mention this before but. Future I-Pin mentions that Kawahira had a daughter (and she borrowed a yukata from her). In Petrichor Kawahira has no daughter. Just putting it out there.
Sweet Dreams~