Thrown into the arms of destiny, what is one to
do? Fear it? No, fear brings about terror and
dread. Despise it? Perhaps one could, if they
can hold a grudge for a lifetime-or two.
Embrace it? But embracing contains a mixture
of both fear of the unknown and the possibility
of hating the consequences. However, embracing
always brings about a warm sentiment, something
to blur the fear and hate, something to ease
the pain. Embracing destiny would be the most
difficult of the three choices. It is often
uncertain, uncanny, and most of all,
unpredictable. Embrace destiny, for what is
life without a challenge?
***
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. It
belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. Title comes from
the musical, Les Miserables. I don't own that
either.
AN: BWAHAHA!!! Last chapter! ^_~
Fate's Will:
Chapter 12: I Dreamed a Dream
***
"Sou...You'll be leaving then?"
He nodded, the ever-present, handsome
smile gracing his cheery features.
Usagi smiled warmly, enclosing Gyokuren
in a tight hug. "I'll miss you," she
whispered, liquid crystal tears sliding down
her cheeks. "I'll keep you in my heart,
always."
"Will you, Usagi-chan?" He pretended to
look surprised. "Ne, lunch time is coming up,
you might forget," he winked, dodging a playful
swat. He'd miss her sunshine smiles and her
friendly, mindless jabber, however, it was his
sister that needed him most. He had to return,
and relearn all that was lost in his past life,
and all that needed to be fixed. He tapped her
pointed chin with an index finger.
"Don't get into too many scrapes without
me," he grinned, as they both heard the
professor snort from behind.
"We should go, Gyokuren," the professor
remarked. "Corona wasn't known for her
patience in back home." Yes, Corona, he'd
promised that he'd come back to rebuild their
once glorious country and what was left of
their torn family. She was sure she'd find
some survivors on the way back to their star
system.
Reluctantly, she parted with her friend,
watching him wave once. She returned his wave,
watching his backside disappear off into the
distance, sure that she would never hear his
optimistic banter ever again.
***
"Ne, Usagi-chan? How are you feeling?"
The friendly, kind atmosphere always drifted
around Ami and followed her like a storm cloud.
Except, trade in that cloud for a brightly-
faced sun.
Usagi smiled amidst a chocolate sundae.
She was falling back into her old, happy habits
again. Ice cream, video games and the
occasional boy. She was far from her usual
vivacious, bubbly self, but only time could
tell if she would ever return to normal.
Nevertheless, things were looking up, and
changing for her. She saw the world with a
different perspective, and felt far more
compassion for those that didn't even deserve
it. Oddly enough, her grades never changed
during the entire ordeal. Fate did have an
awkward sense of humour.
"Are you sure?" Ami persisted. At these
times, Usagi was glad to have friends like Ami.
They were always concerned for her welfare.
Whether it was because of their duty as a
Senshi, she still wasn't quite sure yet. For
the moment being, the concern seemed sincere
Things like these take a step at a time,
she agreed inwardly. So, she would take these
things a step at a time.
"Yeah," Usagi answered, lifting her head
momentarily from the sweet treat. "Thanks for
asking." She smiled, and it was genuine.
***
She walked past the petunia gardens,
settling her eyes upon the solitary figure bent
over underneath an ornate lamppost. He was
sitting on a park bench, eyes transfixed on one
of the many roses that dotted the park. It was
dark, just about an hour before dawn. He was
suffering from insomnia, and apparently, so was
she.
"You called me here?" Usagi asked in a
soft monotone, clasping her hands at her
churning stomach. She saw the man jerk his
head up, indigo eyes oddly bright. He stood up
impressively, towering over her shorter figure.
"Hai, I did. I'm glad you came, Usagi,"
Mamoru semi-stuttered, stuffing his hands in
his jacket pocket. He caught sight of her
wrung hands, noting wryly that she was just as
unnerved with his presence as he was with hers.
Quiet settled upon them, giving each a
chance to predict what would occur in the next
few minutes. The world itself seemed to look
upon them with hopeful anticipation that their
feud would end once and for all.
She summed up the courage to break the
silence first. "So, how are you these days?"
She allowed herself to smile, a mild curving
of the corners of her lips. He seemed to
relax considerably at her mere gesture and
casual inquiry.
"I'm finishing up some midterms. Only
two left to go."
The small smile remained on her face,
"Not working too hard Chiba-san, I hope?"
He shook his head, the ebony strands
shaking to and fro in accompaniment to his
movements. "I'm not losing sleep over my
exams." He paused, very, very still. "I'm
losing sleep over other," he cleared his throat
audibly, "more important things." He gave
her a glance that should have melted her into
her socks had she been paying attention to his
eyes. Her smile wilted along the edges, a
solemn expression evident upon her face. He
took note of the expression, but continued
regardless of it.
"Usagi, I wanted to say I'm sorry," he
began, impatient to say all that his heart
demanded him tell her.
"For what?" She prompted, calmly, yet
firmly. "Why would you need to?" A thin smile
graced her lovely features, easing the tension
crackling between them.
He smiled, but his grin was very grim
with heavy prospects that Usagi couldn't quite
place her finger upon. "Yes, I do," he said
wearily. His eyes held a certain sorrow within
the well-concealed depths, a sorrow that was
liable to cause even the strongest, monotonous
individuals to weep. He took a petite palm
into one of his own, reminiscing about the last
time he touched her soft, fragile hand. She
was dying at the time. Yes, dying, and he was
hardly there for her during the entire ordeal.
Guilt was an understated emotion that he
felt in his heart. Much too simplistic and
obsolete a word was the term, "guilt". No, he
felt far more emotions than guilt. A tumult of
feelings that all boiled together in his
conscience to form the uproar of remorse he
felt as of that moment.
He faced her, solemn, "I'm sorry. I'm
sorrier than words could ever express. I could
stand here, apologizing until the sun fell off
its hinges and the stars fell from the sky in a
violent shower."
She was lovely, and he did not deserve
her. The fact was perfectly clear in his mind.
Yet, he had to try. He was capable, if she'd
see past his great faults, of making her happy.
How he knew, it was a mystery even to himself.
"I do not expect you to accept my apology
within this lifetime, or the next, or even the
one after that..."
She listened to him in mute cordiality,
but only as much as one expected from a
stranger.
"I don't expect you to accept my deepest
and sincerest wishes for your safety..."
She stayed silent, hanging upon his words
and the soft wind toying with her golden
tendrils. Touched by the dimmed light of the
rising sun. It began the perilous task of
chasing away the evils of night and returning
the stars back into their deep slumber.
"I do not expect you to believe me in the
slightest either," he said quietly, bowing his
head in shame once, almost as if he were
respecting her as one would with royalty or
celestial spirits.
"But please," he looked tired,
weary...and something that she never saw within
Chiba Mamoru, or anyone else in her entire
lifetime; uncertainty.
"Please," he continued, swallowing once,
twice. "Accept me. I have more faults than I
can count, and it would take me millennia to
record all of them down for you, but please,
believe me when I say that I love you."
He gulped, the nearly inaudible sound
pierced into the quiet dawning. He challenged
fate and summed up the courage to peer into his
eyes to satisfy the unyielding curiosity
bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
Her expression remained unchanged.
Admittedly, there was a significant glimmer of
surprise settled within the soft features. She
did feel an emotion, and Mamoru was quite sure
that it would be the first step toward patching
up the wounds. One by one, he promised himself
to take upon the duty of placing a bandage over
every emotional wound he caused, directly and
indirectly. He would live up to the
responsibility, and perhaps, just maybe, she
would learn to love him as much as his heart
swelled with the love and tender affection he
held for her. For once, just once, he would
play the healer, not the destroyer.
It was she who broke the seemingly
unending silence first. She turned her head to
meet his eyes directly, and all the secrets of
her soul were unlocked for a brief moment, gems
that were there for his of uncovering. He,
however, made no movement as he stayed
transfixed by her gaze.
Thus, she made the choice for him, and
revealed her own private thoughts. The next
words would either mend or shatter his tortured
conscience and battered soul.
"I believe you," she murmured quietly.
She did not miss the growing anticipation that
she'd just sparked to life. Perhaps those were
not the right words, she amended to herself,
yet, she spoke from the heart, and the heart
never told a lie during its co-existing
existence with her soul. What was said, was
done, and what was done, was the truth. It was
a truth that she could not deny, nor would she
let herself deny. All forms of conscience
protested against denial.
She spotted in his face what she did not
see during the entire conversation during the
rendezvous; hope. It was a tiny, tiny thread
of hope, spreading to his tall cheekbones and
thick eyelashes curtaining his eyes from
harmful rays.
"Does this mean that I still have a
chance?" He questioned the inevitable,
clinging on to her answer as if it was life
itself.
Her pink lips pursed together. Her
bottom lip drew toward her teeth as she bit
upon it in apprehension. Try as she might, she
could not quell the fluttering sensations
within her stomach.
"I said I believed you, didn't I?" She
noted softly. His face brightened a bit more.
She shook her head, "But that doesn't mean that
I could bring myself to love you. Give me..."
She hesitated, as if swallowing her own bitter
tears of disappointment, "Give me a reason to
love you first."
His face fell, and refused to meet her
angelic face. To his dismay, he heard her
swivel around on the cement path and pad slowly
away into the rising sun. He was left alone in
the faint glow of a new day and the
lamentations of mourning doves.
***
::runs into bomb shelter:: Ja ne! ;)
~Mizu
August 19/2001
Magnolia ~
http://rain.morninstar-rising.com
do? Fear it? No, fear brings about terror and
dread. Despise it? Perhaps one could, if they
can hold a grudge for a lifetime-or two.
Embrace it? But embracing contains a mixture
of both fear of the unknown and the possibility
of hating the consequences. However, embracing
always brings about a warm sentiment, something
to blur the fear and hate, something to ease
the pain. Embracing destiny would be the most
difficult of the three choices. It is often
uncertain, uncanny, and most of all,
unpredictable. Embrace destiny, for what is
life without a challenge?
***
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. It
belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. Title comes from
the musical, Les Miserables. I don't own that
either.
AN: BWAHAHA!!! Last chapter! ^_~
Fate's Will:
Chapter 12: I Dreamed a Dream
***
"Sou...You'll be leaving then?"
He nodded, the ever-present, handsome
smile gracing his cheery features.
Usagi smiled warmly, enclosing Gyokuren
in a tight hug. "I'll miss you," she
whispered, liquid crystal tears sliding down
her cheeks. "I'll keep you in my heart,
always."
"Will you, Usagi-chan?" He pretended to
look surprised. "Ne, lunch time is coming up,
you might forget," he winked, dodging a playful
swat. He'd miss her sunshine smiles and her
friendly, mindless jabber, however, it was his
sister that needed him most. He had to return,
and relearn all that was lost in his past life,
and all that needed to be fixed. He tapped her
pointed chin with an index finger.
"Don't get into too many scrapes without
me," he grinned, as they both heard the
professor snort from behind.
"We should go, Gyokuren," the professor
remarked. "Corona wasn't known for her
patience in back home." Yes, Corona, he'd
promised that he'd come back to rebuild their
once glorious country and what was left of
their torn family. She was sure she'd find
some survivors on the way back to their star
system.
Reluctantly, she parted with her friend,
watching him wave once. She returned his wave,
watching his backside disappear off into the
distance, sure that she would never hear his
optimistic banter ever again.
***
"Ne, Usagi-chan? How are you feeling?"
The friendly, kind atmosphere always drifted
around Ami and followed her like a storm cloud.
Except, trade in that cloud for a brightly-
faced sun.
Usagi smiled amidst a chocolate sundae.
She was falling back into her old, happy habits
again. Ice cream, video games and the
occasional boy. She was far from her usual
vivacious, bubbly self, but only time could
tell if she would ever return to normal.
Nevertheless, things were looking up, and
changing for her. She saw the world with a
different perspective, and felt far more
compassion for those that didn't even deserve
it. Oddly enough, her grades never changed
during the entire ordeal. Fate did have an
awkward sense of humour.
"Are you sure?" Ami persisted. At these
times, Usagi was glad to have friends like Ami.
They were always concerned for her welfare.
Whether it was because of their duty as a
Senshi, she still wasn't quite sure yet. For
the moment being, the concern seemed sincere
Things like these take a step at a time,
she agreed inwardly. So, she would take these
things a step at a time.
"Yeah," Usagi answered, lifting her head
momentarily from the sweet treat. "Thanks for
asking." She smiled, and it was genuine.
***
She walked past the petunia gardens,
settling her eyes upon the solitary figure bent
over underneath an ornate lamppost. He was
sitting on a park bench, eyes transfixed on one
of the many roses that dotted the park. It was
dark, just about an hour before dawn. He was
suffering from insomnia, and apparently, so was
she.
"You called me here?" Usagi asked in a
soft monotone, clasping her hands at her
churning stomach. She saw the man jerk his
head up, indigo eyes oddly bright. He stood up
impressively, towering over her shorter figure.
"Hai, I did. I'm glad you came, Usagi,"
Mamoru semi-stuttered, stuffing his hands in
his jacket pocket. He caught sight of her
wrung hands, noting wryly that she was just as
unnerved with his presence as he was with hers.
Quiet settled upon them, giving each a
chance to predict what would occur in the next
few minutes. The world itself seemed to look
upon them with hopeful anticipation that their
feud would end once and for all.
She summed up the courage to break the
silence first. "So, how are you these days?"
She allowed herself to smile, a mild curving
of the corners of her lips. He seemed to
relax considerably at her mere gesture and
casual inquiry.
"I'm finishing up some midterms. Only
two left to go."
The small smile remained on her face,
"Not working too hard Chiba-san, I hope?"
He shook his head, the ebony strands
shaking to and fro in accompaniment to his
movements. "I'm not losing sleep over my
exams." He paused, very, very still. "I'm
losing sleep over other," he cleared his throat
audibly, "more important things." He gave
her a glance that should have melted her into
her socks had she been paying attention to his
eyes. Her smile wilted along the edges, a
solemn expression evident upon her face. He
took note of the expression, but continued
regardless of it.
"Usagi, I wanted to say I'm sorry," he
began, impatient to say all that his heart
demanded him tell her.
"For what?" She prompted, calmly, yet
firmly. "Why would you need to?" A thin smile
graced her lovely features, easing the tension
crackling between them.
He smiled, but his grin was very grim
with heavy prospects that Usagi couldn't quite
place her finger upon. "Yes, I do," he said
wearily. His eyes held a certain sorrow within
the well-concealed depths, a sorrow that was
liable to cause even the strongest, monotonous
individuals to weep. He took a petite palm
into one of his own, reminiscing about the last
time he touched her soft, fragile hand. She
was dying at the time. Yes, dying, and he was
hardly there for her during the entire ordeal.
Guilt was an understated emotion that he
felt in his heart. Much too simplistic and
obsolete a word was the term, "guilt". No, he
felt far more emotions than guilt. A tumult of
feelings that all boiled together in his
conscience to form the uproar of remorse he
felt as of that moment.
He faced her, solemn, "I'm sorry. I'm
sorrier than words could ever express. I could
stand here, apologizing until the sun fell off
its hinges and the stars fell from the sky in a
violent shower."
She was lovely, and he did not deserve
her. The fact was perfectly clear in his mind.
Yet, he had to try. He was capable, if she'd
see past his great faults, of making her happy.
How he knew, it was a mystery even to himself.
"I do not expect you to accept my apology
within this lifetime, or the next, or even the
one after that..."
She listened to him in mute cordiality,
but only as much as one expected from a
stranger.
"I don't expect you to accept my deepest
and sincerest wishes for your safety..."
She stayed silent, hanging upon his words
and the soft wind toying with her golden
tendrils. Touched by the dimmed light of the
rising sun. It began the perilous task of
chasing away the evils of night and returning
the stars back into their deep slumber.
"I do not expect you to believe me in the
slightest either," he said quietly, bowing his
head in shame once, almost as if he were
respecting her as one would with royalty or
celestial spirits.
"But please," he looked tired,
weary...and something that she never saw within
Chiba Mamoru, or anyone else in her entire
lifetime; uncertainty.
"Please," he continued, swallowing once,
twice. "Accept me. I have more faults than I
can count, and it would take me millennia to
record all of them down for you, but please,
believe me when I say that I love you."
He gulped, the nearly inaudible sound
pierced into the quiet dawning. He challenged
fate and summed up the courage to peer into his
eyes to satisfy the unyielding curiosity
bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
Her expression remained unchanged.
Admittedly, there was a significant glimmer of
surprise settled within the soft features. She
did feel an emotion, and Mamoru was quite sure
that it would be the first step toward patching
up the wounds. One by one, he promised himself
to take upon the duty of placing a bandage over
every emotional wound he caused, directly and
indirectly. He would live up to the
responsibility, and perhaps, just maybe, she
would learn to love him as much as his heart
swelled with the love and tender affection he
held for her. For once, just once, he would
play the healer, not the destroyer.
It was she who broke the seemingly
unending silence first. She turned her head to
meet his eyes directly, and all the secrets of
her soul were unlocked for a brief moment, gems
that were there for his of uncovering. He,
however, made no movement as he stayed
transfixed by her gaze.
Thus, she made the choice for him, and
revealed her own private thoughts. The next
words would either mend or shatter his tortured
conscience and battered soul.
"I believe you," she murmured quietly.
She did not miss the growing anticipation that
she'd just sparked to life. Perhaps those were
not the right words, she amended to herself,
yet, she spoke from the heart, and the heart
never told a lie during its co-existing
existence with her soul. What was said, was
done, and what was done, was the truth. It was
a truth that she could not deny, nor would she
let herself deny. All forms of conscience
protested against denial.
She spotted in his face what she did not
see during the entire conversation during the
rendezvous; hope. It was a tiny, tiny thread
of hope, spreading to his tall cheekbones and
thick eyelashes curtaining his eyes from
harmful rays.
"Does this mean that I still have a
chance?" He questioned the inevitable,
clinging on to her answer as if it was life
itself.
Her pink lips pursed together. Her
bottom lip drew toward her teeth as she bit
upon it in apprehension. Try as she might, she
could not quell the fluttering sensations
within her stomach.
"I said I believed you, didn't I?" She
noted softly. His face brightened a bit more.
She shook her head, "But that doesn't mean that
I could bring myself to love you. Give me..."
She hesitated, as if swallowing her own bitter
tears of disappointment, "Give me a reason to
love you first."
His face fell, and refused to meet her
angelic face. To his dismay, he heard her
swivel around on the cement path and pad slowly
away into the rising sun. He was left alone in
the faint glow of a new day and the
lamentations of mourning doves.
***
::runs into bomb shelter:: Ja ne! ;)
~Mizu
August 19/2001
Magnolia ~
http://rain.morninstar-rising.com