Title: Panthera Tigris Tigris - Part 1/?
Author: Kiite
Chapter Rating:PG-13 for slight language and violence
Overall Rating:NRY
Disclaimer: I don't own BSSM, Takeuchi Naoko/Kodansha/TOEI Animation
have that privilege. (I gave up spicing these things up awhile ago. Now
I have a standard one saved on a disk that I copy and paste.) The story,
however, is MINE. You'sa stealit, you'sa diee. ^_^; Enjoy!
AN: Behold the angst! BWAHAHAHAHA!
"..."
Email, minna! And go to www.lovesenshi.com, I love the songs she
posts... Serena is named for Cynthia Voight, author of Homecoming. Read
on, folks!
------------------------------
A tiger.
That's what she thought of, only moments after she first met him. Never
mind that there wasn't a trace of orange in his jet-black hair, and his
eyes were a piercing cerulean, nowhere near the soft brown of the
original. Something about his stance, the way he'd looked at her, threw
her off, and she didn't like it.
"Panthera tigris tigris."
She savored the words, rolling them over her tongue, as her legs moved
like well-oiled pistons against the sidewalk, making virtually no sound
as her feet pounded the cement over and over. Shifting the lopsided
weight of her backpack slightly, she slowed her pace as her house loomed
larger in the distance.
Seventeen-year-old Serena Voight was a mystery to all but a chosen
few; even they didn't completely understand her. Hell, she hardly
understood herself. Teenage mood swings, she reasoned, were what had
done this to her. At fifteen, she'd been a cheerful slacker, always
late, never caring. But those she cared about had been everything to her
in those days; as time progressed, she'd distanced herself, focusing
completely on success, academic and otherwise. People she had cared for
beyond anything one year ago, she treated with reserved, cold courtesy
now. Friend, foe and family alike blamed Melvin Grier, but that's a
story for another day.
He'd stolen her first kiss; she was especially bitter about that.
Quietly opening the door, she hung up her backpack - 'for the last
time til September,' she thought gratefully. Rolling her shoulders, she
allowed herself a rare blissful smile, then trudged up the stairs to her
room. Kicking her shoes off, she propped her feet up on the computer's
hard drive, cool and welcoming beneath the callused skin of her heels.
Every movement bore a casual elegance, posture confidently straight.
Freeing her hair from its uniform braid, she fired up the ancient
machine, leaning back in her swiveling chair as the "Windows 95" screen
flashed up. Raising her arm, she winced at the dull ache in her
shoulder, noticing it as if for the first time. The injury was old, very
old, and yet she remembered as if it had been yesterday...
***FLASHBACK***
Two girls strode along on their way to the bus stop, chattering happily
in short, clipped tones. One smiled, tapping a head of thick black hair,
talking the entire time. Her tone carried a hint of a mischievious
reprimand, which brought an indignant squeal and more excited chatter
from the petite blond next to her.
"Che!" she sighed in exasperation, finally noticing the fingers her
friend had casually jammed into either ear, now whistling nonchalantly
as her eyes wandered over the parking lot.
"Ne, doushite no?" the blonde inquired, noticing her friend's sudden
look of panic, shock soon following.
"Nan da, daijobu," she replied hastily, too hastily, quickly jerking
cool, dark eyes around to meet the deep azure of the slim child-woman.
She held the taller girl's shimmery, midnight gaze for a moment before
nodding slowly, reluctantly, and taking her hand gently.
"Kuruyo, Ami-san wa iru!" Laughing once again, she bounced off to the
bus bench where another girl waited, dragging a protesting, stumbling
miko behind her.
Waving cheerfully, the two stepped away from the bus, the blonde
calling out to the other black-haired girls on the bus.
"Ja ma!" Turning, she glanced sideways at her friend, gasping under her
breath at the girl's arrested, panicky expression. Following her gaze,
she glanced curiously at the other girl - these were only the same five
bullies from that American school near theirs! Tapping her shoulder, she
took her arm, gently tugging her away. She turned quickly, walking
alongside her friend, taking such long strides that the other girl was
jogging to keep up. Once again, she looked curiously over at the taller
girl, wondering what she was so obviously frightened of.
"Hey, you!" They kept walking.
"Yeah, you, b(censored)h!" The smaller girl stopped abruptly, turning
slowly, a deadly glint in her eyes. She could deal with "hey, you," but
calling some random girl you hardly knew "b(censored)h" was too much.
"Hey, you wanna say that again?" She spoke the English with a perfect
accent, despite the fluent Japanese of earlier.
"Yeah, sure, b(censored)h." She straightened, the glint dimming a bit,
but looking no less deadly.
"Do you know why people curse?" she inquired, tone low, walking slowly
toward them. The speaker shrugged, answering offhandedly.
"Cause it fits the situation." Smirking, she continued her slow,
confident stride, shaking her head briefly.
"No. People curse because they want to look tough. But you know what? I
don't hear tough at all. I hear scared." By this time, her friend had
turned back, watching the proceedings with mute interest.
"Ne, doushite no?" Without looking back, she replied flatly:
"Daijobu."
"Oh, I'm so scared, the little Jap girl's gonna beat us up!" another
piped up from the back of the group.
"I could dispute the technicalities of that remark - for one thing, have
you ever seen a Japanese blonde? - but I think I'll leave that for
another day," she shot back sharply, increasing the speed of her stride.
Eyes smoldering, she ran at them, relishing the blatant look of fear in
their eyes. For pure effect, she whipped her schoolbag around, tossing
it sharply, catching the foremost in the stomach.
And then she was on them, adrenaline pounding through her veins,
kicking, scratching, hitting, a quick, lethal jab and then back...
Whipping around, her eyes found the young priestess - now
entangled in the fray, fighting tooth and nail as one raised a rather
bulky sock above her head behind her. Her eyes widened, blazing now with
fear - a blackjack. Sending a kick to an attacker's head, she bolted
towards the girl, fear rising in her throat, tears threatening to spill,
blurring her vision.
"Abunai!" As if in slow motion, the girl turned instantaneously, raising
an arm to block it -
The blonde rammed into an obstacle, struggled fiercely to reach her
friend, straining against the force slowly twisting her arm -
The sock hit its target with a sickening crack, and the beautiful miko
crumpled, fine midnight hair fluttering around her as she fell.
"Rei-chan! IIYAAAA!" she wailed, unconsciously releasing the tension in
her arm, shrieking as it was painfully, suddenly twisted, tears rising
in her eyes. Uppercutting her attacker out of desperation, she looked up
in surprise at the familiar grunt -
Haunting green eyes met hers as he fell, long, lanky legs buckling
beneath him. She stared down at him silently, eyes wide and teary in
betrayal, loss churning inside her.
"Melvin," she said softly, voice trembling ever so slightly. Bending
down beside him, she picked up her bag, fingering the bruise forming
where she'd struck him. She hadn't known her punch was that strong.
Rei's situation suddenly coming back to mind, Serena sprang to her feet,
running silently across the street.
***END FLASHBACK***
She closed her eyes, reliving the pain yet again. Rei had died within
the week. Melvin had been minorly injured, and she still didn't know why
he'd been with them, or why Rei had been so afraid of them. She'd broken
things off with him the next day, although she couldn't shake the sick
feeling she was doing something wrong. She simply couldn't look at him
every day, knowing he was part of the reason her best friend was dead,
and continue seeing him. He'd been nothing but good to her until then,
and she believed he'd genuinely loved her, or thought he had.
The attack had been ruled a hate crime, but the only one who had
ever been identified was Melvin. Since he'd had no part in Rei's actual
murder, and there was no proof he'd known anything about it beforehand,
he'd been sentenced to six months in prison, with the help of a rather
lenient judge. He'd gotten out on parole three months later, tried to
patch things up with her, and she'd knocked him out cold again. He'd
never approached her since then, but she'd learned not to trust, and the
experience had built a wall around her heart.
"Veni, vidi, vici," she muttered proudly. "I came, I saw, I conquered."
Author: Kiite
Chapter Rating:PG-13 for slight language and violence
Overall Rating:NRY
Disclaimer: I don't own BSSM, Takeuchi Naoko/Kodansha/TOEI Animation
have that privilege. (I gave up spicing these things up awhile ago. Now
I have a standard one saved on a disk that I copy and paste.) The story,
however, is MINE. You'sa stealit, you'sa diee. ^_^; Enjoy!
AN: Behold the angst! BWAHAHAHAHA!
"..."
Email, minna! And go to www.lovesenshi.com, I love the songs she
posts... Serena is named for Cynthia Voight, author of Homecoming. Read
on, folks!
------------------------------
A tiger.
That's what she thought of, only moments after she first met him. Never
mind that there wasn't a trace of orange in his jet-black hair, and his
eyes were a piercing cerulean, nowhere near the soft brown of the
original. Something about his stance, the way he'd looked at her, threw
her off, and she didn't like it.
"Panthera tigris tigris."
She savored the words, rolling them over her tongue, as her legs moved
like well-oiled pistons against the sidewalk, making virtually no sound
as her feet pounded the cement over and over. Shifting the lopsided
weight of her backpack slightly, she slowed her pace as her house loomed
larger in the distance.
Seventeen-year-old Serena Voight was a mystery to all but a chosen
few; even they didn't completely understand her. Hell, she hardly
understood herself. Teenage mood swings, she reasoned, were what had
done this to her. At fifteen, she'd been a cheerful slacker, always
late, never caring. But those she cared about had been everything to her
in those days; as time progressed, she'd distanced herself, focusing
completely on success, academic and otherwise. People she had cared for
beyond anything one year ago, she treated with reserved, cold courtesy
now. Friend, foe and family alike blamed Melvin Grier, but that's a
story for another day.
He'd stolen her first kiss; she was especially bitter about that.
Quietly opening the door, she hung up her backpack - 'for the last
time til September,' she thought gratefully. Rolling her shoulders, she
allowed herself a rare blissful smile, then trudged up the stairs to her
room. Kicking her shoes off, she propped her feet up on the computer's
hard drive, cool and welcoming beneath the callused skin of her heels.
Every movement bore a casual elegance, posture confidently straight.
Freeing her hair from its uniform braid, she fired up the ancient
machine, leaning back in her swiveling chair as the "Windows 95" screen
flashed up. Raising her arm, she winced at the dull ache in her
shoulder, noticing it as if for the first time. The injury was old, very
old, and yet she remembered as if it had been yesterday...
***FLASHBACK***
Two girls strode along on their way to the bus stop, chattering happily
in short, clipped tones. One smiled, tapping a head of thick black hair,
talking the entire time. Her tone carried a hint of a mischievious
reprimand, which brought an indignant squeal and more excited chatter
from the petite blond next to her.
"Che!" she sighed in exasperation, finally noticing the fingers her
friend had casually jammed into either ear, now whistling nonchalantly
as her eyes wandered over the parking lot.
"Ne, doushite no?" the blonde inquired, noticing her friend's sudden
look of panic, shock soon following.
"Nan da, daijobu," she replied hastily, too hastily, quickly jerking
cool, dark eyes around to meet the deep azure of the slim child-woman.
She held the taller girl's shimmery, midnight gaze for a moment before
nodding slowly, reluctantly, and taking her hand gently.
"Kuruyo, Ami-san wa iru!" Laughing once again, she bounced off to the
bus bench where another girl waited, dragging a protesting, stumbling
miko behind her.
Waving cheerfully, the two stepped away from the bus, the blonde
calling out to the other black-haired girls on the bus.
"Ja ma!" Turning, she glanced sideways at her friend, gasping under her
breath at the girl's arrested, panicky expression. Following her gaze,
she glanced curiously at the other girl - these were only the same five
bullies from that American school near theirs! Tapping her shoulder, she
took her arm, gently tugging her away. She turned quickly, walking
alongside her friend, taking such long strides that the other girl was
jogging to keep up. Once again, she looked curiously over at the taller
girl, wondering what she was so obviously frightened of.
"Hey, you!" They kept walking.
"Yeah, you, b(censored)h!" The smaller girl stopped abruptly, turning
slowly, a deadly glint in her eyes. She could deal with "hey, you," but
calling some random girl you hardly knew "b(censored)h" was too much.
"Hey, you wanna say that again?" She spoke the English with a perfect
accent, despite the fluent Japanese of earlier.
"Yeah, sure, b(censored)h." She straightened, the glint dimming a bit,
but looking no less deadly.
"Do you know why people curse?" she inquired, tone low, walking slowly
toward them. The speaker shrugged, answering offhandedly.
"Cause it fits the situation." Smirking, she continued her slow,
confident stride, shaking her head briefly.
"No. People curse because they want to look tough. But you know what? I
don't hear tough at all. I hear scared." By this time, her friend had
turned back, watching the proceedings with mute interest.
"Ne, doushite no?" Without looking back, she replied flatly:
"Daijobu."
"Oh, I'm so scared, the little Jap girl's gonna beat us up!" another
piped up from the back of the group.
"I could dispute the technicalities of that remark - for one thing, have
you ever seen a Japanese blonde? - but I think I'll leave that for
another day," she shot back sharply, increasing the speed of her stride.
Eyes smoldering, she ran at them, relishing the blatant look of fear in
their eyes. For pure effect, she whipped her schoolbag around, tossing
it sharply, catching the foremost in the stomach.
And then she was on them, adrenaline pounding through her veins,
kicking, scratching, hitting, a quick, lethal jab and then back...
Whipping around, her eyes found the young priestess - now
entangled in the fray, fighting tooth and nail as one raised a rather
bulky sock above her head behind her. Her eyes widened, blazing now with
fear - a blackjack. Sending a kick to an attacker's head, she bolted
towards the girl, fear rising in her throat, tears threatening to spill,
blurring her vision.
"Abunai!" As if in slow motion, the girl turned instantaneously, raising
an arm to block it -
The blonde rammed into an obstacle, struggled fiercely to reach her
friend, straining against the force slowly twisting her arm -
The sock hit its target with a sickening crack, and the beautiful miko
crumpled, fine midnight hair fluttering around her as she fell.
"Rei-chan! IIYAAAA!" she wailed, unconsciously releasing the tension in
her arm, shrieking as it was painfully, suddenly twisted, tears rising
in her eyes. Uppercutting her attacker out of desperation, she looked up
in surprise at the familiar grunt -
Haunting green eyes met hers as he fell, long, lanky legs buckling
beneath him. She stared down at him silently, eyes wide and teary in
betrayal, loss churning inside her.
"Melvin," she said softly, voice trembling ever so slightly. Bending
down beside him, she picked up her bag, fingering the bruise forming
where she'd struck him. She hadn't known her punch was that strong.
Rei's situation suddenly coming back to mind, Serena sprang to her feet,
running silently across the street.
***END FLASHBACK***
She closed her eyes, reliving the pain yet again. Rei had died within
the week. Melvin had been minorly injured, and she still didn't know why
he'd been with them, or why Rei had been so afraid of them. She'd broken
things off with him the next day, although she couldn't shake the sick
feeling she was doing something wrong. She simply couldn't look at him
every day, knowing he was part of the reason her best friend was dead,
and continue seeing him. He'd been nothing but good to her until then,
and she believed he'd genuinely loved her, or thought he had.
The attack had been ruled a hate crime, but the only one who had
ever been identified was Melvin. Since he'd had no part in Rei's actual
murder, and there was no proof he'd known anything about it beforehand,
he'd been sentenced to six months in prison, with the help of a rather
lenient judge. He'd gotten out on parole three months later, tried to
patch things up with her, and she'd knocked him out cold again. He'd
never approached her since then, but she'd learned not to trust, and the
experience had built a wall around her heart.
"Veni, vidi, vici," she muttered proudly. "I came, I saw, I conquered."