"And God said, 'Let there be light';
And there was light.
And God saw that the light was good;
And God separated the light from the darkness."
- Genesis 1:3-4
======
Inori
Chapter Three - "Let There Be Light"
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler
======
"You look as though you haven't slept in a week," observed Makoto with a wag of her finger as
they sat on the picnic blanket, the brilliant pink sakura blossoms above them brilliant and beautiful
under the shining spring sun. "Are you doing alright, Rei-chan?"
Through a mouthful of odango, Usagi beamed and clapped her dark-haired friend on the back.
"She's probably just fine!" she announced, crumbs spewing here and there as she spoke. "It's only
three days until she's supposed to meet with Nuzono-san, and I bet you that she has everything
figured out already!"
Minako sighed and rolled her eyes. "Usagi, is it always fools before flowers for you?" she
questioned, pulling the box of treats away from the other blonde long enough to steal one for herself.
"Rei is OBVIOUSLY upset, and all you can do is be happy-genki about it!"
"It's FOOD before flowers, Minako-chan," clarified Ami, deadpan. She turned the page in her
textbook, taking a long sip of her green tea as she studied the page before her. "Must you always
botch your sayings?"
Twitching slightly, the bow-headed one forced a small smile. "I did that on purpose," she lied
smoothly between bites of her odango. Then, seeing that Rei hadn't brightened at all by the comical
passage around her, she frowned. "Rei-chan?" she questioned softly, brushing a loose strand of hair
from her face. "Are you alright?"
The Shinto blinked her purple eyes and forced a brave smile in the direction of her friend.
"I'm fine!" she chuckled, reaching for the box of odango. The container was empty, however, a fact that
caused her unnatural grin to fail miserably. "I was just thinking about what to say to my father on
Saturday, that's all."
"Still not sure whether or not to take the seat at Tokyo University?" asked Makoto gently,
reaching to pat her friend on the shoulder. "Well, Rei-chan, I hope you know that we're one-hundred
percent behind you, no matter what happens."
Usagi flashed the darker-haired one a brilliant, charming grin. "And even if you do end up
a super-mean politician's secretary like that woman at the government building, we'll still all be
your friends!" She took another huge bite of her snack. "After all, that's what friends are for!"
As Ami, Makoto, and Minako all face vaulted into their picnic blanket, Rei turned to eye
her tsuki no hime carefully. "You went to my father's office?" she asked archly, as though she
thought - or even hoped - that she had misheard the other teen.
Smiling as bravely as she could, Ami tried to avoiding blushing, but her valiant attempt failed
something awful. "We wanted to speak to him... You know, make him see everything you wish he'd see?"
She paused, pursing her pink lips carefully. "But he refused to see you. Said that he had no daughter
by the name of Hino Rei."
"That's because he doesn't," sighed the miko, leaning back on her elbows as she stared idly
up at the sakura blossoms that blew idly in the wind above her head. "His daughter is named Nuzono
Rei, and she wants to be a politician and a Catholic, just like him."
She paused, her eyelids fluttering shut as she took a deep breath. The scent of the cherry
blossoms surrounded her, filling her nostrils with the familiar, happy smell. The smell of so many
well-spent springs. "Christian lore says that God created the first human, Adam, in his own image,"
she informed the group of gaping girls. "Well, I think that my father wants his first human - his
daughter - created in HIS image. And he'll do anything to make sure that she fits that picture-perfect
dream of his."
Frowning, the bow-headed blonde eyed her friend curiously. "And who do YOU want to be?"
inquired she, blue eyes carefully watching the face of the dark-haired fire senshi. "Do you want to
be created in your father's image?"
"I'd rather be in my own image," she responded with a small shrug. "But if I have to be in
anyone's image, I'd much rather be created in my mother's."
------
She stood solemnly in front of the crowd of people, watching her father carefully for any
outcry of emotion. Somehow, she - a twelve-year-old girl with an almost obscene sense of justice and
hope - would expect the press conference about her dead mother to be full of life and excitement.
However, there was no life and excitement to be had. The reporters asked their questions -
was it really his fault that his wife died? What about the rumor that his daughter had spent the last
twelve years at a Shinto shrine? How would he deal with the harsh criticism about his lack of family
skills? - and ran off with their half-hearted answers, leaving her to stand in front of the empty
folding chairs, staring up at the press podium with wide purple eyes.
Seiji tucked his reading glasses away into his pocket and gathered up his papers, moving to
sit in one of the empty press seats. "Gomen, Rei!" he apologized quickly, mopping his brow with a
crisp handkerchief. "I didn't expect that to be as grueling as it was. You were lucky not to be
targeted as a potential answer key!"
As her father laughed at his own joke, she seated herself in a nearby chair, certain to leave
plenty of room between them. "I started the seventh grade last month, you know," she told him softly,
toying with a loose strand of hair. "I'm in the junior high school now, and I'm constantly being
asked how my parents are."
"Ah, yes, your father's fame bathes you in quite a spotlight, ne?" kidded the dark-haired man,
tucking his kerchief back into his breast pocket. Silence washed over the room, and he sighed. "Why
did you insist on coming today, Rei?" he questioned, a bit of annoyance in his voice. "You know I
don't have the time to just fool around."
"I didn't come to 'fool around,' father," she responded coolly, her purple eyes meeting his
brown ones with a cold fleck of hatred. "I just wanted to know what she was like, because today is
the twelfth anniversary of her death, and you've never once mentioned her to me."
The Minister of Defense frowned, arching an eyebrow at his daughter. "'Her?'" he repeated,
confused.
Nodding, the adolescent turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "Hino Sora-chan," she stated
bluntly, her voice deadpan. "Also known as my mother."
For a long moment, nothing was said between father and daughter. Instead, they sat together in
complete and total silence, staring dully at one another as though they had never seen each other
before. And perhaps they hadn't.
Brown eyes closed as Seiji - his expression full of pain and regret for the first time that
entire afternoon - smiled sadly. "Sora was the most beautiful woman on the face of this universe," he
sighed, his eyelashes fluttering open as he turned to glance at the girl beside him. "More than that,
she was spirited and always hopeful. She was like Heaven on Earth, and I loved her very much.
"But I have goals and dreams," he continued, pursing his lips. "I lost her because my job was,
and is, my lifeblood." He reached across two empty seats to gently touch his daughter's shoulder,
caressing it with a hand. "You'll understand someday, Rei-chan. Being a politician is more important
than anything else in the world, even if you are in love."
She swallowed, hard, and pulled away from his grip. "A politician?" she echoed, hopping to her
feet. "But, father, you know that I want to be a priestess and - "
"And that is not an option," he responded with a wag of his finger, as though he was talking
not to a level-headed teen but rather to an unruly toddler. "You will follow my few rules, Rei, or
you will come home and live with me." He paused, frowning terribly in her direction. "I should have
expected there to be questions about you and your life at Hikawa," he pressed on, shaking his head,
"but I didn't think of it. You're lucky that no one made that into controversy, or else I would be
taking you home with me right now, instead of just considering it."
Purple eyes lowered to a glare as Rei's temper flared. "What do you think mother would say if
she heard you now?" she spat, anger overtaking her normally pleasant tone as she spoke. "Do you think
she would have given up all she believed in, just so you'd be happy?"
Smirking triumphantly, the man rose to his feet. "What you forget, DAUGHTER, is that she
DID give up all she believed in for my happiness." His brown eyes narrowed irately. "I think that's the
one thing that Sora had and you lack. Patience for unconditional love."
And before the girl could say anything in response, he was gone.
------
Sweeping the steps up the shrine was one of Rei's least favorite chores. Well over
one hundred stairs led up to the great Tor in front of Hikawa Shrine, and in the cherry blossom
season, it seemed as though all the petals in the universe had purposely fallen onto the steps, making
it a task of enormous proportions. Still, she refused to grumble about the task she had been assigned,
partially because she was a proper miko, and partially because worrying about clean stairs was the last
thing on her mind.
It seemed to the dark-haired priestess that her father - the Minister of Defense and a cold-
hearted, almost cruel man, yet still her father all the same - ran hot and cold. He had loved her
mother, and yet refused to raise her. He knew what the cost of pushing dreams could be - he had lost
his wife because of it - and yet he pushed her to share in his dreams, no matter what the cost. And -
as much as he wanted unconditional love - he wasn't willing to trade love for love with his child.
She brushed a strand of dark hair from her eyes as she reached the final step, the very last
slab of concrete that she was responsible for cleaning. How could a man not want to love his child?
And how was she expected to give up everything in his name?
"If I didn't know better, I would say that you're lost," stated a familiar voice, accompanied
by a graceful, soft chuckle. Rei glanced up to find herself glancing into a pair of green-blue
eyes, eyes so familiar that they could only belong to one person.
"M-michiru-san," she stammered, completely surprised by the wavy-haired woman's sudden
appearance. She stifled a bow, her confusion obvious. The senshi of embrace and her three companions
had scarcely been seen since the battle with Galaxia. "What brings you to Hikawa?"
A breeze ruffled the older teen's wavy hair. "Many things bring me on this walk through Tokyo,"
she responded with a smile, "the least of which being that Haruka is an absolute idiot." She frowned
slightly, surprised that the miko didn't at least smile at her light-hearted jest. "But you tell me,
Rei-chan, what's wrong? You seem as though your soul has been torn from your chest."
Pursing pink lips, the dark-haired teen focused on the bristles of her broom, purple eyes
refusing to make second contact with those of her older companion. "Perhaps I have," she whispered,
voice almost lost to the other woman. Then, smiling sadly, she began to push the delicate fallen
sakura petals off the steps and onto the sidewalk. "Michiru," she queried conversationally, "did you
parents have dreams for you to follow?"
Michiru chuckled, nodding slightly. "Oh, yes, my parents had several dreams I was to live up
to," she responded in answer, her elegant voice carried on the spring breeze. "I was to be a business
woman like my mother and marry a head of industry. I think it came as a grave shock to her when I
took up violin and refused to be the adult she imagined me to be."
"And do you regret it?"
"Regret, Rei-chan, is a funny thing," sighed the wavy-haired woman, her aqua tresses falling
into her eyes, pushed by the breeze. The priestess could scarcely see her face. "It tends to make us
petty, bitter, and it keeps us from complete fulfillment in life." She leaned against the bus stop
sign, glancing up the steps to Sendai Hill. "Tell me though, Rei-chan; do you regret anything?"
The broom silenced as the dark-haired teen froze. Did she regret? She could remember so many
things she should have done, COULD have done, but... Did she regret anything?
Only one thing came to mind.
"I regret that I could never stand up to him," she breathed, her comment almost completely
hidden by the rustle of trees in the wind.
Her companion arched an eyebrow. "Stand up to who, Rei-chan?"
"My father."
------
"My friend Ichitaro-kun tells me that you've become good friends with the hospital
commissioner's daughter," Nuzono Seiji smiled, sipping his coffee casually as he spoke. "Is this true?"
They were sitting in an ice cream parlor, snacking on sundaes and trying desperately to enjoy
each other's company, even though the years had caused already tense bonds to become more and more
fragile. Purple eyes stared listlessly at hot fudge sauce, watching as it melted the cool treat
below.
Sighing, Rei's father rolled his dark eyes. "You go to a private academy with hundreds of other
girls, and yet the only friends you manage to make are Mizuno-san's daughter and, from what I hear,
a blonde girl with obscene hair." He paused, pursing his thin lips. The years had treated him well,
but not well enough; he was finally starting to show some signs of age at the crease of his lips and
across his brow. "Now, you know as well as I do that a hospital commissioner's daughter is not a bad
friend to have, but what about the girls at school? Many of them have fathers in high places!" He
sighed a second time, shaking his head in dismay. "Rei-chan, my dear musume, I would really like to
see you make friends that are befitting of your status, as well as mine."
She glanced up from her sundae, expression completely emotionless as she looked straight into
the eyes of her father. For a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
Then, Rei smiled slightly, stirring her ice cream. "Father," she addressed him softly, "do you
remember how, in the beginning, God created the light and the darkness?"
Seiji's eyebrows raised slightly. "Yes, I do."
"And that the light was separate from the darkness?"
"Yes."
The girl - now fourteen years old and in the summer of her third year of junior high school -
allowed her smile to grow into a triumphant out-and-out grin. "Well, father, Usagi-chan and Ami-chan
are the light, and they have separated ME from the darkness."
The rest of their afternoon visitation - and several after that - were spent in contemplative
silence.
------
End Chapter 3.
And there was light.
And God saw that the light was good;
And God separated the light from the darkness."
- Genesis 1:3-4
======
Inori
Chapter Three - "Let There Be Light"
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler
======
"You look as though you haven't slept in a week," observed Makoto with a wag of her finger as
they sat on the picnic blanket, the brilliant pink sakura blossoms above them brilliant and beautiful
under the shining spring sun. "Are you doing alright, Rei-chan?"
Through a mouthful of odango, Usagi beamed and clapped her dark-haired friend on the back.
"She's probably just fine!" she announced, crumbs spewing here and there as she spoke. "It's only
three days until she's supposed to meet with Nuzono-san, and I bet you that she has everything
figured out already!"
Minako sighed and rolled her eyes. "Usagi, is it always fools before flowers for you?" she
questioned, pulling the box of treats away from the other blonde long enough to steal one for herself.
"Rei is OBVIOUSLY upset, and all you can do is be happy-genki about it!"
"It's FOOD before flowers, Minako-chan," clarified Ami, deadpan. She turned the page in her
textbook, taking a long sip of her green tea as she studied the page before her. "Must you always
botch your sayings?"
Twitching slightly, the bow-headed one forced a small smile. "I did that on purpose," she lied
smoothly between bites of her odango. Then, seeing that Rei hadn't brightened at all by the comical
passage around her, she frowned. "Rei-chan?" she questioned softly, brushing a loose strand of hair
from her face. "Are you alright?"
The Shinto blinked her purple eyes and forced a brave smile in the direction of her friend.
"I'm fine!" she chuckled, reaching for the box of odango. The container was empty, however, a fact that
caused her unnatural grin to fail miserably. "I was just thinking about what to say to my father on
Saturday, that's all."
"Still not sure whether or not to take the seat at Tokyo University?" asked Makoto gently,
reaching to pat her friend on the shoulder. "Well, Rei-chan, I hope you know that we're one-hundred
percent behind you, no matter what happens."
Usagi flashed the darker-haired one a brilliant, charming grin. "And even if you do end up
a super-mean politician's secretary like that woman at the government building, we'll still all be
your friends!" She took another huge bite of her snack. "After all, that's what friends are for!"
As Ami, Makoto, and Minako all face vaulted into their picnic blanket, Rei turned to eye
her tsuki no hime carefully. "You went to my father's office?" she asked archly, as though she
thought - or even hoped - that she had misheard the other teen.
Smiling as bravely as she could, Ami tried to avoiding blushing, but her valiant attempt failed
something awful. "We wanted to speak to him... You know, make him see everything you wish he'd see?"
She paused, pursing her pink lips carefully. "But he refused to see you. Said that he had no daughter
by the name of Hino Rei."
"That's because he doesn't," sighed the miko, leaning back on her elbows as she stared idly
up at the sakura blossoms that blew idly in the wind above her head. "His daughter is named Nuzono
Rei, and she wants to be a politician and a Catholic, just like him."
She paused, her eyelids fluttering shut as she took a deep breath. The scent of the cherry
blossoms surrounded her, filling her nostrils with the familiar, happy smell. The smell of so many
well-spent springs. "Christian lore says that God created the first human, Adam, in his own image,"
she informed the group of gaping girls. "Well, I think that my father wants his first human - his
daughter - created in HIS image. And he'll do anything to make sure that she fits that picture-perfect
dream of his."
Frowning, the bow-headed blonde eyed her friend curiously. "And who do YOU want to be?"
inquired she, blue eyes carefully watching the face of the dark-haired fire senshi. "Do you want to
be created in your father's image?"
"I'd rather be in my own image," she responded with a small shrug. "But if I have to be in
anyone's image, I'd much rather be created in my mother's."
------
She stood solemnly in front of the crowd of people, watching her father carefully for any
outcry of emotion. Somehow, she - a twelve-year-old girl with an almost obscene sense of justice and
hope - would expect the press conference about her dead mother to be full of life and excitement.
However, there was no life and excitement to be had. The reporters asked their questions -
was it really his fault that his wife died? What about the rumor that his daughter had spent the last
twelve years at a Shinto shrine? How would he deal with the harsh criticism about his lack of family
skills? - and ran off with their half-hearted answers, leaving her to stand in front of the empty
folding chairs, staring up at the press podium with wide purple eyes.
Seiji tucked his reading glasses away into his pocket and gathered up his papers, moving to
sit in one of the empty press seats. "Gomen, Rei!" he apologized quickly, mopping his brow with a
crisp handkerchief. "I didn't expect that to be as grueling as it was. You were lucky not to be
targeted as a potential answer key!"
As her father laughed at his own joke, she seated herself in a nearby chair, certain to leave
plenty of room between them. "I started the seventh grade last month, you know," she told him softly,
toying with a loose strand of hair. "I'm in the junior high school now, and I'm constantly being
asked how my parents are."
"Ah, yes, your father's fame bathes you in quite a spotlight, ne?" kidded the dark-haired man,
tucking his kerchief back into his breast pocket. Silence washed over the room, and he sighed. "Why
did you insist on coming today, Rei?" he questioned, a bit of annoyance in his voice. "You know I
don't have the time to just fool around."
"I didn't come to 'fool around,' father," she responded coolly, her purple eyes meeting his
brown ones with a cold fleck of hatred. "I just wanted to know what she was like, because today is
the twelfth anniversary of her death, and you've never once mentioned her to me."
The Minister of Defense frowned, arching an eyebrow at his daughter. "'Her?'" he repeated,
confused.
Nodding, the adolescent turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "Hino Sora-chan," she stated
bluntly, her voice deadpan. "Also known as my mother."
For a long moment, nothing was said between father and daughter. Instead, they sat together in
complete and total silence, staring dully at one another as though they had never seen each other
before. And perhaps they hadn't.
Brown eyes closed as Seiji - his expression full of pain and regret for the first time that
entire afternoon - smiled sadly. "Sora was the most beautiful woman on the face of this universe," he
sighed, his eyelashes fluttering open as he turned to glance at the girl beside him. "More than that,
she was spirited and always hopeful. She was like Heaven on Earth, and I loved her very much.
"But I have goals and dreams," he continued, pursing his lips. "I lost her because my job was,
and is, my lifeblood." He reached across two empty seats to gently touch his daughter's shoulder,
caressing it with a hand. "You'll understand someday, Rei-chan. Being a politician is more important
than anything else in the world, even if you are in love."
She swallowed, hard, and pulled away from his grip. "A politician?" she echoed, hopping to her
feet. "But, father, you know that I want to be a priestess and - "
"And that is not an option," he responded with a wag of his finger, as though he was talking
not to a level-headed teen but rather to an unruly toddler. "You will follow my few rules, Rei, or
you will come home and live with me." He paused, frowning terribly in her direction. "I should have
expected there to be questions about you and your life at Hikawa," he pressed on, shaking his head,
"but I didn't think of it. You're lucky that no one made that into controversy, or else I would be
taking you home with me right now, instead of just considering it."
Purple eyes lowered to a glare as Rei's temper flared. "What do you think mother would say if
she heard you now?" she spat, anger overtaking her normally pleasant tone as she spoke. "Do you think
she would have given up all she believed in, just so you'd be happy?"
Smirking triumphantly, the man rose to his feet. "What you forget, DAUGHTER, is that she
DID give up all she believed in for my happiness." His brown eyes narrowed irately. "I think that's the
one thing that Sora had and you lack. Patience for unconditional love."
And before the girl could say anything in response, he was gone.
------
Sweeping the steps up the shrine was one of Rei's least favorite chores. Well over
one hundred stairs led up to the great Tor in front of Hikawa Shrine, and in the cherry blossom
season, it seemed as though all the petals in the universe had purposely fallen onto the steps, making
it a task of enormous proportions. Still, she refused to grumble about the task she had been assigned,
partially because she was a proper miko, and partially because worrying about clean stairs was the last
thing on her mind.
It seemed to the dark-haired priestess that her father - the Minister of Defense and a cold-
hearted, almost cruel man, yet still her father all the same - ran hot and cold. He had loved her
mother, and yet refused to raise her. He knew what the cost of pushing dreams could be - he had lost
his wife because of it - and yet he pushed her to share in his dreams, no matter what the cost. And -
as much as he wanted unconditional love - he wasn't willing to trade love for love with his child.
She brushed a strand of dark hair from her eyes as she reached the final step, the very last
slab of concrete that she was responsible for cleaning. How could a man not want to love his child?
And how was she expected to give up everything in his name?
"If I didn't know better, I would say that you're lost," stated a familiar voice, accompanied
by a graceful, soft chuckle. Rei glanced up to find herself glancing into a pair of green-blue
eyes, eyes so familiar that they could only belong to one person.
"M-michiru-san," she stammered, completely surprised by the wavy-haired woman's sudden
appearance. She stifled a bow, her confusion obvious. The senshi of embrace and her three companions
had scarcely been seen since the battle with Galaxia. "What brings you to Hikawa?"
A breeze ruffled the older teen's wavy hair. "Many things bring me on this walk through Tokyo,"
she responded with a smile, "the least of which being that Haruka is an absolute idiot." She frowned
slightly, surprised that the miko didn't at least smile at her light-hearted jest. "But you tell me,
Rei-chan, what's wrong? You seem as though your soul has been torn from your chest."
Pursing pink lips, the dark-haired teen focused on the bristles of her broom, purple eyes
refusing to make second contact with those of her older companion. "Perhaps I have," she whispered,
voice almost lost to the other woman. Then, smiling sadly, she began to push the delicate fallen
sakura petals off the steps and onto the sidewalk. "Michiru," she queried conversationally, "did you
parents have dreams for you to follow?"
Michiru chuckled, nodding slightly. "Oh, yes, my parents had several dreams I was to live up
to," she responded in answer, her elegant voice carried on the spring breeze. "I was to be a business
woman like my mother and marry a head of industry. I think it came as a grave shock to her when I
took up violin and refused to be the adult she imagined me to be."
"And do you regret it?"
"Regret, Rei-chan, is a funny thing," sighed the wavy-haired woman, her aqua tresses falling
into her eyes, pushed by the breeze. The priestess could scarcely see her face. "It tends to make us
petty, bitter, and it keeps us from complete fulfillment in life." She leaned against the bus stop
sign, glancing up the steps to Sendai Hill. "Tell me though, Rei-chan; do you regret anything?"
The broom silenced as the dark-haired teen froze. Did she regret? She could remember so many
things she should have done, COULD have done, but... Did she regret anything?
Only one thing came to mind.
"I regret that I could never stand up to him," she breathed, her comment almost completely
hidden by the rustle of trees in the wind.
Her companion arched an eyebrow. "Stand up to who, Rei-chan?"
"My father."
------
"My friend Ichitaro-kun tells me that you've become good friends with the hospital
commissioner's daughter," Nuzono Seiji smiled, sipping his coffee casually as he spoke. "Is this true?"
They were sitting in an ice cream parlor, snacking on sundaes and trying desperately to enjoy
each other's company, even though the years had caused already tense bonds to become more and more
fragile. Purple eyes stared listlessly at hot fudge sauce, watching as it melted the cool treat
below.
Sighing, Rei's father rolled his dark eyes. "You go to a private academy with hundreds of other
girls, and yet the only friends you manage to make are Mizuno-san's daughter and, from what I hear,
a blonde girl with obscene hair." He paused, pursing his thin lips. The years had treated him well,
but not well enough; he was finally starting to show some signs of age at the crease of his lips and
across his brow. "Now, you know as well as I do that a hospital commissioner's daughter is not a bad
friend to have, but what about the girls at school? Many of them have fathers in high places!" He
sighed a second time, shaking his head in dismay. "Rei-chan, my dear musume, I would really like to
see you make friends that are befitting of your status, as well as mine."
She glanced up from her sundae, expression completely emotionless as she looked straight into
the eyes of her father. For a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
Then, Rei smiled slightly, stirring her ice cream. "Father," she addressed him softly, "do you
remember how, in the beginning, God created the light and the darkness?"
Seiji's eyebrows raised slightly. "Yes, I do."
"And that the light was separate from the darkness?"
"Yes."
The girl - now fourteen years old and in the summer of her third year of junior high school -
allowed her smile to grow into a triumphant out-and-out grin. "Well, father, Usagi-chan and Ami-chan
are the light, and they have separated ME from the darkness."
The rest of their afternoon visitation - and several after that - were spent in contemplative
silence.
------
End Chapter 3.