**STANDARD DISCLAIMER** You know the drill. ^_^
Author's Notes will be at the end.
Rating: PG-13
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"Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart."
~ Proverb ~
Silver Eyes
by: The Silver Princess
The ride home was a night-blackened blur. Her tires sailed over the pavement as though it were slick ice, and Usagi was heedless of the speeding laws she was violating so severely. Her eyes were like steel, and she gripped the handlebars until her fingers turned white and tingly.
Did Mamoru know?
Did they all know?
The senshi had seen her up close, had been concentrating on her, not distracted by a youma. And Mamoru . . . Perhaps, he only he suspected her? Or maybe, that comment had meant nothing, just a random coincidence, and he was completely unaware of her identity.
Could kill someone . . .
In her concentration, she sped past her apartment complex and by the time she realized she had missed her home, she suddenly didn't care. She narrowed her eyes, gunned the engine, and continued racing forward, burning off her anxiety like the motor consuming the gasoline. The night enveloped her black form, and only the gleam of the chrome on her motorcycle betrayed her presence.
The next morning, she dashed into class, pigtails flying and excuses screeching. Haruna-sensei rolled her eyes at Usagi's routine antics, and the day quickly settled into normal routine.
Yet, Usagi could not help but glance at her friends every minute or so. Was that a spark of suspicion in Minako's keen eyes? Did she see thoughtful speculation in Ami's knowledgeable little face? Had Rei psychically searched the fire for information after she had left? Was it just her imagination or was Makoto staring at her in strange recognition?
Lunch couldn't come quickly enough.
Usagi stuffed her face with food even more than usual, trying to avoid interaction with her friends. Makoto's normally mouth-watering cuisine was sticky, unpalatably bland in her mouth.
She suffered through one more nerve-frazzling hour before she decided to skip school by feigning illness and heading to the nurse. The nurse, who had learned that students in Tokyo often fell prey to strange spells of inexplicable exhaustion and sickness, wisely did not question Usagi too strenuously, and once permission was granted, Usagi promptly escaped home.
Although night had not yet fallen, she flung open her closet and stripped of her flowered dress with a small sigh of released tension. The black pants and tank had never felt more comforting than they did at that moment.
She removed her contacts and then unbound her hair. She reached for her makeup and then paused, her hand hovering uncertainly. She turned up her eyes from the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror, a collection of features: that clean, young face, and those silver, aged eyes, the long mane of gold falling unfettered. The unfamiliar girl stared back at her, neither Odango Atama nor Serenity. Just Usagi.
She pursed her lips and looked away, grabbing the makeup kit almost violently. "This secret identity thing is taking its toll," she muttered angrily. "You're losing it, baka." She swiped blush over her cheekbones and scrutinized the effect. Still too Odango looking. Finally after several attempts to apply cosmetics, she tossed her eyeliner down and scrubbed her face clean. She sighed. "You'll have to talk to him and see if he knows anything," she told the mirror in a tight voice. "Or you'll never stop worrying." Her reflection nodded.
Feeling significantly calmer, Usagi reapplied her makeup and then wound her hair into her trademark braided crown. She wandered into her living room and flopped onto the couch in boredom.
Night was too slow in coming. The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, hot and yellow on her face. She stood, gravitating towards the glass. She laid her hand against the cool surface and stared down at the long drop as her thoughts drifted throughout Tokyo. Her breathing slowed almost meditatively as she gazed without seeing.
There was a sudden snap within her, and she spun around into a crouch, fists at the ready. Her chest heaved as her system was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. It was as though she had heard an out-of-place noise or been unexpectedly ambushed, but no…that wasn't it. She furrowed her brow as she relaxed her stance. The uneasiness lingered in her gut, a tight knot of urgency compelling her to action.
She tapped her fingers against her thigh in a fretful fit of anxiety as the emotion inside her rose to a crescendo. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes, seeking to calm herself. Her nerves screamed at her. You're wasting time! She scrunched her eyes tighter, striving to still her tense body, still insisting that she go, just go!
She had felt this way before, she suddenly realized.
She opened her eyes, and silver shone metallic like a hunting cat's eyes. Hai, she had felt this. She'd always been in the thick of battle and she had discounted the feeling as hyperness.
GO!
She abruptly snapped into movement, a cyclone of black and blonde. Her mask was quickly secured in place, her keys were clenched in her hand, and she was out the door, down the stairs, starting her bike, racing down the road. The sun glared in her eyes, trying to deter her, but she sped unerringly onward, that prickling, insistent dread in her abdomen pulling her like a chain, compelling her onward as her heart beat with urgency.
*****
Usagi saw the youma immediately and froze, desperately trying to restrain her inappropriate laughter. Thank goodness, she had never fallen prey to that common childhood fear of psychopathic clowns.
She grinned wolfishly and placed her hands on her hips. "Hey," she called, and its attention turned suddenly to her. She waited impatiently as it stared at her. "Well, aren't you going to try to drain my energy?" she inquired sweetly.
The clown thing laughed its insane clown laugh and then turned away from her, hunkering down over whatever prey it had discovered before her arrival.
"Hey!" she shouted, feeling affronted, and she strode forward.
She froze midstep as she noted the head of black hair beneath the youma. Her eyes followed the oh-so-familiar profile, and horror dawned on her as her stupefied brain grasped the identity of the victim. She transferred her gaze to the youma, and unrelenting fire kindled in her eyes as a low snarl built inside her throat, propelling her forward, the urgent tug in her gut lending her increased power.
She went in low, swinging her leg an inch from the pavement and knocking the youma from its feet. It thudded to the ground, and her fist made contact with its outlandishly red grin. It flipped to its feet, suddenly wary of the new opponent, and they circled each other. Usagi heard a groan behind her and carefully eased away, drawing the youma after her.
She darted forward, feinting left with a wide swing of her fist, and then kneeing it sharply in the righthand side of its torso. It curled automatically around the hurt, and she adjusted her weight placement so that her knee could continue its movement to smash against its face. It screeched and jerked up, flailing with its arms. A hand backslapped her in the chest before she could evade it. Pain exploded in splinters through her torso as she flew into the wall, smacking her head against the concrete.
Wheezing and holding an arm protectively over her aching ribcage, she slid to the ground dazedly as dark spots bled through her vision. Her skull loudly protested with waves of aching.
"Here," a voice croaked near her ear. A warm palm pressed against her back, and the pain suddenly eased to a dull, week-old ache. Then something was pushed into her hand.
"Get away from here," she hissed as she stood up, positioning herself in front of him. The clown was still unmovingly watching her. She muttered a grateful thank you that youmas were so imbecilic.
Usagi brought her arms up, intending to strike again, when she realized she was still holding what he had urged into her hand. She arched an eyebrow and glanced halfway over her shoulder. "A rose?" she asked incredulously.
"Steel-tipped. With some magic in it. It'll help you," he explained weakly.
"Okay—hey!" She dodged the youma's blow and sliced against it with the rose's stem as though it were a normal dagger. It screamed, stumbling backwards, as black ooze dripped from the cut.
"Wow, it works," she noted in surprise. "Now don't try any heroics. You're not in any shape to do that," she ordered him firmly and then turned around to refocus on the youma. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the rose stem and moved forward slowly, watchfully.
The youma charged, laughing madly.
Usagi leapt upwards, sticking out her arm. The youma's momentum as he collided with her forearm jarred her backwards even as it knocked the clown. She twisted and landed into a somersault. With lightning speed, she vaulted at the youma, pressing her foot on its throat to keeping it pinned to the ground and to cut off its oxygen. Its legs flew up, attempting to kick her in the base of her skull, and she fell flat against its chest to avoid the blow.
Teeth snapped her, trying to rip into her neck. She wriggled to evade the biting shark-like fangs while simultaneously trying to keep it restrained down. She elbowed it in the mouth, and teeth scraped over her skin, drawing blood. It snarled, its appetite whetted. She hunched down and then headbutted upwards, its jaws sharply snapping closed. Taking advantage of its transitory shock, she stabbed into its chest with her only weapon, the rose.
The rose stem bore into the creature with razor-sharp ease as though a dagger were slicing through butter. Its howl was unearthly loud but brief, and its muscles went lax beneath her as black, acidic blood seeped onto her chest, burning. She jerked away as she twisted the rose deeper.
"Now," she said coldly. "I know you can understand what I say. I don't have the magic to kill you. But this handy little rose here can apparently cause you a great deal of pain. I suggest you start telling me useful things." She glared at the sullen looking clown with gray ice in her eyes.
"Ie?" She pressed the rose deeper, nearly to the base of the blood-red flower.
"Don't know anything!" it wailed stupidly. "Gimme the energy, the life. I want it."
"So you can communicate somewhat intelligibly," Usagi cried in mock surprise. "Who sent you?"
"The man."
She gritted her teeth impatiently. "What man?"
"He serves the queen. Ow, ow, ow. He commands me in her place. She's locked away!" the clown screeched miserably. "I will kill you! Stop it! You will all die!" Its eyes burned with hatred
"Why him?"
The clown glared at her with smoldering quiet fury.
She pulled the rose partly out, changed the angle, and stabbed again.
"Bitch! You will die and this world will become a stinking cesspool of torment! Bitch!"
"Tell me what I want to know. Why attack this man?"
"Bitch!"
"What was that?" she asked as she sank the rose deeper into its chest.
"Royal blood," it muttered sullenly, almost inaudibly.
"Explain. And speak up."
"AARGH! Don't know nothing!"
She frowned thoughtfully as she stared at the glowering youma. She hadn't lied. She didn't have the capabilities to actually kill it. She needed one of the senshi to do that.
"Under the Time Space Star, Pluto, I am Sailor Pluto!" The soft, husky voice floated over the air, and confused, Usagi glanced over her shoulder and saw the tall figure of a long-haired woman holding an ornate staff.
"Under the Silent Star, Saturn, I am Sailor Saturn!" The most diminutive of the four silhouettes twirled her glaive as her sweet, clear voice rang out.
"Under the Deep Sea Star, Neptune, I am Sailor Neptune!" The third speaker stepped forward as she spoke, and the golden sunlight glimmered over waves of sea green hair.
The fourth figure strode forward. "Under the Heavenly Star, Uranus, I am—What the hell?!"
"Uranus!" Sailor Neptune hissed.
The tall, short-haired senshi frowned irritably. "What? Well, do you want to explain this?" she asked belligerently, gesturing towards Usagi and the youma with her sword.
Usagi shook herself from her startlement. "Um, excuse me?" she interrupted indignantly. "Could you kill this thing, and then talk?"
Uranus narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. "Sounds good to me."
Usagi darted away as the blond senshi blasted power from her extended palm like a tornado. "World Shaking!"
The rose glowed like a tiny red sun in the gust of energy as the youma disintegrated around it before it too crumbled. Usagi blinked dust from her eyes as the four unfamiliar senshi leapt from the roof of the building to the ground.
Ignoring them, she turned on her heel and knelt down. "Are you all right, Mamoru-san?" she asked, worry gnawing in her gut.
"We gotta stop meeting like this," he muttered as he blinked owlishly at her. "Help me stand, will you?"
She draped his arm over her shoulders, placed hers around his waist, and carefully eased him to his feet. "You do seem to be starting some sort of trend here," she answered with a laugh. He chuckled weakly.
"Excuse me? What the hell is going on here?" Uranus interrupted. "Who are you?"
"Uranus, let her speak," Neptune said, her melodious voice placating. She rested her hand on Uranus's forearm, and the other senshi subsided.
Usagi opened her mouth to relieve their suspicions, but what popped out was "Is one of you named Michiru?" Wasn't that the name of the person Minako had referred to the night before?
"Neptune is Kaioh Michiru," Mamoru answered her matter-of-factly.
"Hey!" Neptune cried, indignant to have him reveal her identity to a complete stranger.
Uranus grinned triumphantly as though this confirmed her mistrust. "See?"
"The violinist?"
"I said 'hey!'"
Usagi ignored them, focusing on Mamoru. "Uranus looks familiar," she observed. "A lot like Kaioh-san's boyfriend."
"Tenoh Haruka."
"Mamoru, what are you doing telling her?"
"She is the racer! But then that would mean—Tenoh-san is female!"
"Okay, now you're going to get it!"
"What do you think, fists or sword?"
"Are the others famous too?"
"Fists are slower, love."
"No, Pluto is a physicist named Meioh Setsuna and Saturn is a student named Tomoe Hotaru." He smiled at her as she paused to memorize their names.
"I think I'll go with fists," Uranus decided threateningly.
"Will you all stop it?" a loud voice cut through the din of multiple conversations. Everyone turned simultaneously to stare at the exasperated Sailor Pluto. "Honestly, intelligible conversation is not that difficult."
"We should speak somewhere more private. This sort of thing is bound to draw attention," Saturn added softly, tilting her head, her silky black hair sliding to veil her left cheekbone.
"My place?" Mamoru suggested. "I'll call the others."
"Fine," Uranus agreed gruffly.
No one moved. Usagi growled impatiently and slowly began leading Mamoru to her motorcycle. Uranus glared at her as she passed, and she glared at her in return. Pale azure clashed with silver for a long second.
She could feel those blue eyes boring into her back suspiciously as she approached her bike. "All right, Mamoru-san, just get on the bike," she murmured as she helped him sit.
"Is that yours?" a voice said next to her ear suddenly.
Usagi jumped and spun around, finding herself nose to nose with Sailor Uranus. She frowned suspiciously. "You're fast." There was an assessing pause before "Yeah, it's mine."
"Sugoi. A little older than mine, but," Uranus crouched down to get a closer look at the machine, "you've made some nice modifications." She grinned up at Usagi who was climbing on behind Mamoru.
"Arigatou, Tenoh-san."
"Hey, call me Haruka-chan," Uranus said cheerfully as she glowingly ran a hand over the front tire.
"Honestly, you and your toys," Neptune interrupted affectionately.
"Jealous?" Uranus asked, casually wrapping an arm around her waist.
"Ahem," Sailor Pluto coughed pointedly.
Usagi hid a grin. "We'll meet you at Mamoru-san's, okay?"
Sailor Saturn gasped suddenly. "Our luggage!" she squeaks. She dashed away, her tiny form moving like a hummingbird.
"Perhaps tomorrow," Pluto added apologetically.
"It'll give Mamoru-san time to get a hold of the others," Usagi answered understandingly.
"Call us on our communicators," Pluto agreed.
"Hey, why am I in front?" Mamoru interjected as she started the engine.
"You can barely walk. Do you think I'm going to trust you to hold on to me to stay on?" Usagi retorted. "Now slouch down so I can see." She turned to the senshi. "Ja ne!" Her heart clenched jealously as she saw Uranus and Neptune holding hands some comfortably, so she rested her chin on Mamoru's shoulder, ostensibly to see better but more for the contact.
"You know I really like that girl," she heard Uranus say as she drove away.
The sun was setting now, and reddish light glazed the concrete of Tokyo. She zipped along the streets and drove towards the bloated sun, red as blood on the horizon. The entire sky was awash with red and orange, and the light slanted into her visor, casting her face in bronze. She glanced at her hands on the handles and the red light on black gloves looked like drying maroon blood. She shuddered and sped even faster towards her destination.
*****
"Arigatou," he murmured as she handed him the steaming cup of tea.
"There was something I wanted to speak to you about," Usagi began as she stepped away. Her stomach fluttered.
"Oh?" he quirked an eyebrow at her as he settled himself more comfortably on the large sofa, lounging longlimbed like a graceful jungle cat. "Sit down, sit down," he added.
She perched at the edge of his couch hesitantly, still unsure of the right words. "You see, last night…There was something about the way you looked at me that made me think you recognized me from somewhere…" she trailed off, groping for the correct phrases.
"You want to protect your identity," he summarized astutely.
"Hai," she conceded.
"I had a thought that you were someone I know," he started, and she tensed. "But that's passed. I don't know who you are, but if I did, I wouldn't reveal your identity without your consent." He placed his hand over hers and looked deeply into her silver eyes.
She smiled softly as the tension inside her uncoiled. "Arigatou."
A stray breeze sneaked in through Mamoru's open window, ruffling his hair. She froze, suddenly acutely aware of his hand on hers, his eyes locked on hers. Was his thumb moving over her skin, caressing her hand?
Stop acting like a lovesick child. She shook herself, breaking the spell, and delicately extricated her slim hand from his. "I should go," Usagi said politely, moving to stand.
"Wait." His hand was now on her arm, restraining her. She allowed him to press her to sit again. "Stay for awhile. Talk with me."
His eyes were on her with a tender expression that she dared not decipher, and she couldn't help but consent.
*****
"So, this princess holds the greatest power of you all?"
"Hai. That's why we must find her quickly to win."
"So what is she like?" Usagi asked, carefully keeping her voice steady. She twisted her body to sit sideways on the couch, to face him. "Is she related to you?"
He cracked a wry grin and mimicked her movement. Her heart jumped as his knee brushed hers. "We don't know much actually. This was all in a past life of which we have very few memories. I don't know what my connection to Serenity-hime is, don't know what she's like. We do know that she's the avatar of hope, the light. That's where her power comes from. She holds the purest heart, the greatest hope inside her."
"Impressive."
He grinned in agreement. "Definitely. We've posited that she'll be something of an innocent, someone sweet and almost childlike."
"Very rational given the prerequisites."
"Then when we find someone, we ask Ami to scan her to see if she's a possibility."
"Slow, long, not very practicable…"
"But just about the only option," he finished for her.
She shrugged. "I'll keep an eye out on your behalf."
"Arigatou." He gazed at her steadily, a flicker of unreadable emotion lighting his eyes, before he glanced away to take a sip of tea.
"So tell me a little about yourself. It's a topic we've been avoiding for a good while now," Mamoru said teasingly as he reached forward to tuck a stray lock of golden hair behind her ear. Usagi's breathing hitched at the affectionate familiarity with which his fingers brushed her cheekbone.
"Oh, it's late. We've been talking for ages—" she started quickly to mask her disobedient heart.
"Don't worry," he immediately added. "I won't try to figure out who you are."
"I don't know…" she hesitated, glancing down at her hands twisting around each other, her nerves tight.
Mamoru perceived the state of her nerves that his question had brought on. He rested his hand on her knee reassuringly, and his eyes looked on her so warmly. "You don't have to tell me anything," he soothed.
"I have no family," she declared suddenly, bluntly.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"They died two years ago. All of them. I've always felt that it was my fault." She let her breath out in a whoosh. "I can't believe I just told you that. I haven't told anyone else that." She shook her head, amazed at herself. What was it about him that made her so…open and peaceful?
"I have no family either," he offered. "My parents died when I was five. I can't even remember them since the crash that killed them gave me amnesia. I never told anyone about my amnesia. I always liked to dream up memories and pretend they were real."
She smiled a small smile, giving his hand a tight squeeze—somehow their hands were interlocked again.
"I guess that makes us kindred spirits," he suggested tentatively.
"I like that, Mamoru-san. It gives me a family again." Her smile widened as her heart thumped against her ribcage, nearly bursting to declare her love.
"Why won't you tell me who you are?" he asked after a moment of thought. "After all, you know who I am, who we all are."
Usagi frowned uncomfortably. "I don't know…I just…" She paused, searching for words to explain her position. He waited patiently. "During the day, I play a different person, someone who doesn't have to deal with the pain that I feel. I'm not ready to give that up, to be myself full time." She broke off and looked away, her chest tight.
Mamoru laid a comforting hand against her cheek, gently obliging her to face him. "I understand," he said.
She blinked in surprise.
"Hey, you should have seen me when I first discovered all this, superpowers and a past life that I don't remember. To be truthful, I didn't deal very well. I'm still a little disturbed by it actually; I just hide it better. At least you're up front about the way you feel some of the time. I practically never am." He tilted his head. "Except with you, it seems."
"You feel alone," she whispered. "And unsure of how to fix things."
"Yes," he agreed quietly, his blue-gray eyes swimming with emotion.
"You're just trying to live and not to worry those who know you when you feel like you're dying inside." She was gazing at him softly; she knew she was baring her heart. Did he see love in her eyes?
"Exactly," he murmured. His thumb came up to her face to caress her cheek. His warm breath was tickling on her skin. He was so close.
Usagi closed her eyes.
Mamoru kissed her.
His lips were tender and warm, cautious of her response. She sighed deeply and leaned into the kiss, her arms coming up to circle his neck, her hands to tangle in his hair. "Aishiteru," he murmured, his voice muffled against her lips.
Her eyes snapped open at his tender words, and she pulled away, leaping to her feet as emotion overwhelmed her.
Fury.
She began to pace in front of a very confused Mamoru, her fists clenching and unclenching spasmodically as waves of red-hazed anger washed through her. "What are you talking about?" she accused him furiously, her silver eyes flashing with fire. "You don't even know me! How can you love me? I thought you were different!" She gritted her teeth tightly, but her fuming words continued to spill from her lips. "Ie! You're a typical male! You'll say whatever it takes to try to get you want. Let me tell you, I don't fall for that! Oh, I actually thought that you—oh!"
"Serenity, please, will you listen to me?" she heard him plead, but she was too caught up in her raging emotions to pay attention. Her feet ate up the distance of his apartment as she stalked back and forth.
"To think that I actually fell in lo—" She broke off quickly with a gasp as she realized what she had said.
"You love me?" he asked, and her heart convulsed at the sudden buoyancy and hope in his voice.
She froze, unable to respond. There was ice in her limbs, ice in her belly. Had she really just told him that? Ruined everything?
"Aishiteru," he repeated, putting more force and conviction in his voice.
She was shaking, shuddering, but she could not bring herself to move. The moon had risen and was shining brilliantly in her eyes through the window.
He stood up slowly as though she were a wild creature ready to bolt—a judgment not far from the truth, she wryly admitted. "I don't know who you are technically," he began in a low voice. "But somehow I do. I feel as though my heart knows yours somehow, as though I fell in love with your soul but have only just now realized that you are the one. Onegai, saiai, can't you feel that connection?"
His presence was too close, overwhelming her rationality. Feeling unusually waiflike in comparison to his tall, lean form, she looked up at him, her anger faded and replaced by uncertainty. Did he love her?
He stroked her cheek gently, encouraged that she didn't pull away. She shivered inwardly at his touch, sparks running up and down her spine. "I remember when I first saw you," he continued, seeking to reassure her. "I remember looking into your eyes, glowing silver. I remember seeing your soul shining in them even then. That's when I first loved you. I'm just remarkably dense when it comes to hearing what my heart was trying to tell me.
"Do you know what you saved me from that night? Not the youma. Myself. I was self-destructing, freezing up inside. If you hadn't come into my life, I would have become a cold, heartless jerk, incapable of giving or receiving love. But from the moment you looked at me with those remarkable eyes and I saw such unbridled love for everything that you were willing to risk yourself voluntarily, you changed that."
She remained mute, her heart wrestling itself inside her. He sounded so sincere…perhaps he did return her feelings; perhaps she hadn't misjudged him. She bit her lip uncertainly, tasting the lipstick flavor of her lips. She had always prided herself on her bravery. Did she have the courage to let him in, to allow him to be more than a dream and become something potentially painful, but far more wonderful? There was love shining within her, begging to be released. Even her bruised heart that she feared to hurt again was yearning for him.
"Onegai, saiai," he whispered, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her legs to hold her close. His eyes were pleading, loving, open. Something very painful, yet very rapturous burst inside her chest, and she knew then that there had never been another option for her. She loved him, and it was as simple and as beautiful as that. This was what she wanted. Love.
Letting her knees go limp, she slid down into his arms until she was tight in his embrace and kissing him. Kissing him, holding him, never letting go.
"Aishiteru."
She didn't know who had whispered it, but somewhere in her fogged mind she thought that perhaps they both had.
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Note: Saiai means beloved
A/N: Wow, that took forever to get out. My goodness, research papers and internet failures can really mess with your life. I just want to say the enormous sorry to all of you who expected this installment a lot earlier. *Gets down on knees and pleads for forgiveness* ^_^ I decided to make it longer to try to make up for the wait. Hope it was worth it! Anyway, just so you know, that wait was definitely abnormal. The next installment will be up within a month; I've already started. Arigato for reading. Tell me what you think. Please review or e-mail me!
