I'm sorry everyone that I haven't updated for a long time. I kept trashing the chapter so I took a break. But here it is. I modified chapter 1 a bit, but it was only in regards to her relationship with her dad. As promise, some of the generals have made their appearance. Enjoy and review.
CHAPTER II: THE BEGINNING OF THE END, THE END OF THE BEGINNING
Faint rays of sunlight peeked through the window and into Makoto's closed lids. She shifted in the bed, not wanting to awaken but the light proved more persistent. She rolled off the bed, her chestnut curls tumbling at her shoulders, slightly groggy. Her bleary glanced at the clock situated besides her bed, as it blinked 6:30 AM. A groan escaped her lips, an annoying voice in her head telling her that it was her first day of school. She trudged off to her bath with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, the shower squeaking open as the sound of running water was heard. Minutes later, the sound of water slowed to a trickle and out she came, damp but now wide awake. She quickly dressed up and fixed her tousled bed, her stomach rumbling. She burst out into the hallway, greeted by the scents of pancakes and bacons wafting through the air. The rumblings of her stomach increased as she followed the mouthwatering scent.
"Good morning," she greeted cheerfully when she reached the dining room.
"Good morning," her foster parents greeted her back. Her uncle and aunt, as what she called them, looking up from their respective sections of the morning newspaper.
"You're quite an early riser," Ikuko observed with a smile as she watched her pile up some pancakes, "And not much of a big eater," an amused tone in her voice.
She looked up in surprise and confusion as she replied, "I'm not that early, and people have said I'm a big eater."
"It's your size dear," her new mother spoke, "and it's not that big compared to Usagi or Shingo."
She nodded in understanding, her mind taking her back last night at diner, wherein she sat there gaping as she watched the two sibling literally eat a mountain of food that was largely disproportionate with their size.
Ikuko smiled knowingly, knowing pretty much what was going on in her head. Calmly, she continued, "As for the rest, they're pretty much the laziest kids there is," as she stole a sideward glance to her relaxing husband and added slyly, "I wonder where they got it though?"
Coffee spluttered on the newspaper and on the table, as Tsukino Kenji, husband of Ikuko choked on his drink. He glared balefully at his wife as he demanded, "Are you implying that I'm lazy?"
She stared at him innocently and spoke in an equally matching voice with appropriate hand gestures, "No, no. But since you mentioned it. . ." her voice trailed off as she contrived to look thoughtful.
He frowned irritably, humped, then returned his attention to the stained paper as she smiled winningly at him. Makoto couldn't help giggle at the scene as she grabbed a wet rag and began wiping the spilled coffee.
"Uh. . .Auntie," she ventured out as she wiped the last drops of coffee.
"Yes?" Ikuko looked at her with a smile as she took the rag from her hands and gently ordered, "You finish you meal."
"I was wondering if I could continue my aikido lessons," she spoke in a soft voice, shifting uncomfortably. She wondered how they would take it, knowing very little about what was expected of her, except that her real aunt couldn't have cared less and that all her classmates were male.
"Ah!" the older woman exclaimed, causing her eyes to snap up curiously, "Ms. Ikuwasa told us about it. Don't worry," she spoke reassuringly, "I'll talk to a friend of mine about it."
A grateful smile erupted at face, her mind becoming at ease. It sounded strange, but ever since she was young, she always felt the need to learn how to fight in order to protect. She wasn't sure who, but she knew she will know when the time comes. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the shuffling of feet and the scrapping of the chair besides her. Her eyes snapped to reality to behold a still sleepy but uniformed Shingo who was brightening up at the sight of the food. She watched as he piled food at his plate and was currently munching away, having banished the last vestiges of sleep.
"It good to see that my new neechan isn't a lazy pig," he spoke between mouthfuls of food.
Makoto couldn't help but raise her brows up at the irony of his statement, noting the condition he was in, while Ikuko frowned, admonishing, "Shingo, don't talk with you mouth full and don't talk about your sister like that!"
"But it's true," he whined, "Look at the time."
Her eyes snapped towards the clock and her mouth dropped open, seeing that it was 10 minutes after 7. Horror dawned in her eyes as she winced at the thought about being late at the first day of school and going home late because of detention.
"I better wake her up," she muttered hastily leaving the table.
"Good luck!" Shingo called behind her as she quickly climbed up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She faintly heard Shingo being scolded but she ignored it, as she yanked open the door and found herself staring at a contentedly sleeping Usagi.
"Usagi," she called out, shaking the sleeping girl.
Nothing happened. She called her name out louder, shaking her a bit more. All it did was make her roll up to her side and mumble in her sleep. She shook even harder, called even louder, but Usagi remained fast asleep. She groaned out loud, seeing as precious seconds tick by. At her wits ends, she grabbed the edges of the blanket and yanked hard. Out the came the sleeping girl, sliding down to the floor and jerking awake. She nearly cried with relief, but her relief was short lived when the newly awakened blond spoke groggily, "What?"
She felt a nagging headache begin to form as she spoke as calmly as possible, emphasizing every word, "It's 7:15."
"7:15!" Usagi shrieked out, making her wince in pain, "I'm going to be LATE!"
The next thing she knew, she was being pushed out of the room, the door being slammed on her face. She blinked in shock as she heard muttered curses and a couple of thumps. A few seconds later, the door was opened and the blond girl zoomed out, grabbing her by the hand as she was dragged down the corridor, down the stairs, and into the dining room. The rest passed by into a blur, a part of her in shock while another was simply amused as she watched her new sister break land speed records with her hot on her sister's heels.
Cherry blossoms swirled down on the air, slowly and gently. Makoto watched it, a placid smile on her lips as she sat underneath it, waiting for her sister. School had already ended, so she was out here, waiting.
Her eyes turned amused as she remembered their record breaking sprint to school. She was glad that they weren't late, glad that she wasn't in the same class as her sister. She didn't know why. It wasn't that she didn't like her; on the contrary, she loved her. Loved her with so much conviction that she felt she would never disrupt her life, only watch from a distance to protect her as best as she could. She was glad that she would not impose herself on her life, her routines, and her friends at school. She knew, she could only watch. Her heart told her that much.
Her hand rose up in the air, extending a finger as one light pink petal laid upon to rest on it. She watched, entranced, just as she was entranced by the nature and its violence as well as gentleness. She watched and listened as the trees gave her comfort and the flowers sang her songs by the whispers of the wind. She watched and listened as the wind howled, lightning rumbled, and thunder crashed. They, telling her that she must be strong, and that she had to learn how to fight in order to protect.
"Makoto!" a cheerful voice cried out, breaking her thoughts. She looked up and found Usagi running towards her. She stood up, a smile in her lips as the blond screeched to a halt, gasping for breath.
"You're late," she spoke teasingly. She saw her the innocent features, causing her to hastily add, "Never mind," her voice light, for she did not want her hurt, ever, "It doesn't matter."
"Still," Usagi spoke, a sincere expression in her wonderfully blue eyes, "I'm sorry."
She smiled, grateful and heartened as she extend her hand in a beckoning manner and spoke, "Come on. I'll race you home."
She watched as Usagi brightened as they took off running. She found herself lagging a bit behind, careful to watch the blond girl, and careful that she would not be hurt. Her footsteps were light, her feet flying at the wind, yet she did nothing but stayed behind. The wind whispered it was right that she did so, and the trees rustled their approval as she protected and guarded. She did not mind, her heart and soul had said that so she must.
Mamoru ran across the streets in a deathly hurry. School has just been done and the day was wonderful, you would think he was simply excited in hanging out and having fun. But there was another thing that was causing this awful hurry, and it was that he was going to visit his little sister in the hospital. She had given him and grandfather a scare last night, and she had left the doctors baffled as well. He didn't know what was waiting for him, yet he ran with every speed he could muster, while evoking a prayer to whatever the gods that were up there.
It wasn't that he believed in gods. He never believed in them, not after the incident that killed his parents and left him no memory of his childhood. But with his sister in danger, he knew he'll need every help that he could get.
He reached the hospital without incident, slightly out of breath. He entered the place, his nose wrinkling at the sterile smell of antiseptics. He had to admit, he hated hospitals with its cold sterility and how it always invoked the feeling of death, but he knew he cannot avoid this place. He walked towards the reception desk, clearing his throat to gain the attendant's attention.
"Excuse me," he spoke as he ran his hand down his wind tousled hair, "I'm here to visit Rei Hino."
"Are you a relative?" the man asked as his hands busily typed across the computer keyboard.
"I'm her foster brother, Chiba Mamoru," he answered automatically, fairly itching to see her.
"Could you wait a minute," the attendant asked as he grabbed the intercom.
He felt nervousness well up, his mind rapidly creating worse case scenarios as he watched the man conferring at the receiver. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but fear and good manners kept him back. Perhaps it was because his feelings showed that when it was finished, he was given a sympathetic look as the man spoke, "Don't worry. Dr. Mizuno just wants to talk to you."
He felt a palpable sense of relief, but it wasn't enough to ease his fears. He waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground while he valiantly tried to quell his overactive imagination.
"Mr. Chiba," a feminine voice broke through his preoccupation. He looked up and found herself staring at a woman, dressed in a white coat, with gentle looking eyes, holding a clipboard.
"Dr. Mizuno?" he inquired in a rush, allowing a mixture of trepidation, hope, and a tad of impatience to color his tone.
"It's about your sister," the doctor spoke without preamble, her eyes giving away nothing.
"What about her?" he demanded searchingly, trying to find any clue as to what it is.
"Come with me," she spoke, turning about as he hastily followed her, "She's fine and awake, and will be released today," she continued, her movements brisk and professional. He felt elated at the news, but it did not last long when he heard the rest, "But we're still not sure about the cause of the seizure."
"You don't know anything?" he asked incredulously, noting that they had gone deeper into the building.
"Unfortunately yes," she admitted ruefully, "The only thing we know is that there was a subtle shift in her brain wave patterns and an increase in brain activity, every time she underwent a seizure," a hint of amazement in her voice, "As for her bodily functions, nothing was affected. She's as fit as a fiddle. I wouldn't have believed it if I haven't seen her convulsing."
He nodded, his agile mind storing in the details while his heart was in turmoil. He did not know what to feel, relief that she was all right, dread that everyone was powerless, and sadness because a part of him seemed to whisper that things will never be the same.
'Destiny,' his mind whispered, 'You cannot fight destiny.'
"We're here," she spoke, breaking through his inner turmoil. His eyes focused and he realized they had entered the intensive care ward. He looked at the doctor curiously, wondering why Rei was placed here. She answered immediately, instinctively knowing what he wanted to know, "She gave us quite a scare last night," she spoke, opening the door, "We had to monitor her almost constantly."
He nodded in understanding, following her inside, and was greeted by the sight of his little sister who was lost in thought. She seemed not to hear their entry as she gazed outside the windows and into the falling cherry blossoms.
"Rei," Dr. Mizuno spoke, causing her to turn away from the window, "How are you?"
"Fine," she replied, her gaze shifting from the doctor to the silent presence of Mamoru. She lowered her eyes, guilt and shame coursing through her veins at the sight of his disappointed look. The room was noticeably tensed, yet Dr. Mizuno seemed blind to it as she calmly gave out instructions. She vaguely heard the words: rest, can go back to school, and no strenuous activities, but she didn't listen or care. She even didn't care when the doctor left them, and they both left all alone. All she cared about was the disappointed and almost hurt look in her brother's eyes. She wished he just scowled at her, even ranted and raved, for she could handle that. What she couldn't handle was the way he looked at her now. It was as if he was blaming himself for her stupidity.
"Are you going to do something that stupid again?" Mamoru's calm voice shot through her mind.
She looked up, eyes wide with surprise and guilt. She bowed her head and slowly shook it into an approximation of a no. His features softened as he saw her guilt ridden features. Walking towards her, he sat down besides her, gently took her hand, and spoke, "Why did you do that?"
She looked up, violet eyes meeting his and replied in a soft voice, "I wanted to help you, and. . ." her voice trailed off before she continued doggedly, yet her voice was even softer, "and. . .I. . .felt I had to," she sighed at lost for words. Then she cried out, "I just had TO!"
'Destiny,' the words once again echoed in his mind, 'You cannot fight destiny.'
He suddenly felt tried and haunted. His sister's words and his mind's words telling him there was no escape. Although escape from what, he did not know.
"The vision must have been terrible," he murmured at last, his hand giving hers a comforting squeeze.
Rei's violet eyes turned wild, banking with hidden fires as she cried out, "That's what I'm afraid of, oniichan. I don't remember," her eyes turned frightened and her voice hushed as she continued, "All I remember were three hooded men in scarlet robes, like they were from a cult. Faces that were featureless black masks in eyes like red slits, and the word, destiny."
He said nothing, the words confirming his dread.
A whoosh in the air, the squeak of the bars broke through the silence of the room. There was no movement or any sound as the room's occupants simply stood and stared. They were staring at the blue haired 12 year old gymnast by the name of Ami Mizuno who was whirled at the uneven bars with breathtaking speed and agility. She seemed like waltzing and flying through the air with all those twists, turns, and swings.
She was oblivious to it all, intent only on her routine. Her day had been what she called exhausting. It wasn't because of all the schoolwork or the tests. It was because she felt a call, a call telling her that she must be strong. It was this call that rang in her head all day, the call that forced her to think of nothing else but to excel, and it was the call that pushed her body and mind to its limits. This call was the reason why she ran all the way to the gym to get to the uneven bars. It was because of it that she was now pushing herself to the limit and pushing the sport to the limit as well. She had heeded the call as the twisted her body in the air, caught herself and launched herself even higher, never breaking pace. She was now like water, flowing and gentle, sharp and strong but brittle.
Her mind flowed, calculating every move and every whim that surrounded her. A final twirl, she let go of the bars and twisted in the air to fall back to the earth with a flourish.
"Excellent," a deep base voice spoke, causing her to snap back to reality. She found herself looking at a burly man with green eyes who stared at her with pride, while behind him, a group of people were either excitedly talking or staring at her resentfully. She frowned, noting the people in the room. She was used to it, the way people seemed to resent her, yet it made her feel lonely at times. She also realized that she had forgotten about her audience, the call having nearly obliterated everything.
He watched a frown cross his face. Smilingly, he observed, "Not satisfied? You should be. You were excellent."
"No," she answered, her eyes snapping back to the present, "I was thinking about something else. . .But then," she added, shrugging, "I don't think I'll ever be satisfied."
"How about competing or joining the club?" he asked, his gaze sharpening, wondering if she'll turn his offer down again.
"Never, I suppose," she replied, the words belaying the conviction within her as she turned towards her things.
"Never is such an absolute, Ami," he chided as he watched her grab a towel to mop the sweat that dotted her brow.
"Everything is usually determined by absolutes, Coach Simons," she said, causing a light chuckle to escape his lips. She looked at him with curiously, her brows furrowing as he got a hold of himself.
"Did I say something wrong?" she asked, a hint of hurt in her voice.
He looked at her fondly, knowing how she hated been laughed upon for all the whispers that had been stabbed at her back. She hid it with her shyness, and a single minded determination in everything that she did. Hastily, he explained, "I'm sorry Ami. It's just that I was thinking how my nephew would have reacted."
She said nothing, tilting her head curiously as he continued, "He would have disagreed. His philosophy is that everything is determined by oneself."
"That's a little conceited," she observed, "There are limitations and they determine our lives."
"Ami," he said with a sigh, "I'm not here to wax philosophies with you," his gaze turned mock thoughtful in a want to tease her as he added, "Though I must admit, you're right about the conceited part."
She blinked in surprise as he ignored her reaction, still speaking in the same thoughtful manner, "In fact, I think I should introduce you both to each other."
She gulped, her features twisting into a wince as she heard his idea. An intellectual discussion sounded nice, yet a discussion with someone full of himself, let alone a man, was simply not appealing. Hastily, she interjected, "I'd rather not."
She froze when the words left her lips. She felt herself heat with embarrassment when she received a curious yet amused look from her coach. In fact, she simply wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She gave a strained smile, while a part of her was ready to kick herself with her stupidity. But to her surprise, he laughed as he spoke, "Good choice. Last time I check, Zachary was pretty much a heartbreaker."
Her surprised mind, numbly absorb the information, making a mental note to avoid anyone with the name of Zachary.
"But don't worry," he added cheerfully, "my conceited nephew, Zachary Greene, is on the other side of the globe."
"I hope he stays there," she muttered, before even realizing it. Her eyes widen in horror and surprise. Coach Simons simply laughed, much to her chagrin, as she wondered why the sudden animosity to a man she never met. Her traitorous mind never answered her, giving her only a set of mocking leaf green eyes that seemed vaguely familiar.
"Is everything ready?"
The bloody red haired woman jerked away from the window, the raspy voice of a woman's interrupting her reverie. She looked up, her bloody red eyes meeting the cold void of the other woman's eyes. They were nearly the exact opposite of one another. Both were slim and pale, but she was tall with hair and eyes a brilliant shade of crimson, while the other was petite with eyes and hair like ebony.
"Metallia," she acknowledged, her was voice clear and cool.
Silence reigned as the petite pale women studied her. The air was heavy with tension. The door yawned to a close behind Metallia, the wind swishing past the room. Her voluminous crimson robes rippled around her as she walked deeper inside. Their eyes never left each other.
"There is something else," Metallia observed, it more of a statement than a question.
She did not answer, yet she looked away. Her hand unconsciously went towards her black clad arm, stroking it lightly. She was deep in thought and deep in fury. The rhythmic stroking increasing in speed and pressure as she felt the familiar sting that haunted her for so long.
"Beryl," Metallia prodded.
"I feel her," she muttered, her eyes blazing, "I so want to kill her! Make her suffer and beg for mercy!"
An elegant eyebrow rose. Metallia stared studiously; the meaning of 'her' was not lost.
"Have patience," Metallia admonished, "Whether you like it or not, she is still dangerous."
"Yes, but I can never forgive her," she hissed, her mind whirling with old memories as the sting of an old wound in her arm intensified, "How dare SHE?!"
'Demon,' she thought those words as words hissed out from her lips.
"Come now Beryl," Metallia spoke in a soothing voice, "Surely you remember that day she bathed the soil with the blood of our troops with a single flick of her wrist. Just that one woman against hundreds of us. We had to destroy a planet to make sure she was dead."
"WE DID THAT TO ALL THE SENSHI!" she bellowed as she drew herself to full height, her pale skin showing starkly against her revealing skin tight black gown, "SHE HAS TO PAY!"
"Am I interrupting something here?" a slightly sarcastic voice broke though the air. Both woman whirled at the source and found themselves staring at an exquisitely dressed blond man.
"ADONIS!" Beryl snarled angrily, her eyes flashing as he sauntered in almost mockingly, "Get OUT!"
"Why should I?" Adonis taunted.
"Because you're a bungling IDIOT!" she shot back, rage literally filling every pore in her body, "Because of you, the humans have discovered us!"
"They're nothing but trash," he waved dismissively, "Just like you, hag."
Beryl snarled, her hands curving like claws as she bared her teeth in sheer fury. Adonis' lips curved to an even more mocking smile as he seemed to ready himself for her onslaught. But before the situation could escalate, Metallia roared, "ENOUGH!" effectively stopping the two combatants.
"Adonis," Metallia continued, her piercing stare boring into his, "get ready. I don't want any slip-ups; we have to eliminate the human resistance and senshi threat as soon as possible."
He smirked and gave a mocking bow, before turning with a flourish. The two women watched as he left, still as they listened to his footsteps receded to nothing more than a whisper.
"Why do you keep that fool?" Beryl spat out.
"He has his uses," Metallia answered, an amused looked flickering in her features as she glanced at the still seething woman, "Don't worry, you'll still be able to have your revenge personally. Knowing him, he won't be able to kill her," she assured as her voice trailed off with a smirk dancing on her lips.
Artemis watched lazily as Minako brushed her hair for the last time. A rush of pride filled her as he stared at her, noting that even at such a young age, she was beautiful. The chime of the grandfather's clock echoed, startling both of them and causing his charge to run out of the room. Curious, he followed the hurried white clad figure down the stairs and towards a huge oak door, slipping inside easily as she entered.
"You're 5 minutes late, Minako," a man's voice rang in his ears, serious and gentle yet distant at the same time.
He looked up and found himself in an old-fashioned study, staring at a seated middle aged man. The man had a weary face topped with neat graying hair and with the same bright blue eyes as Minako.
"I apologize, father."
He was pleased when her answer confirmed his suspicions, yet he couldn't help but wince at the formality of the address. He stole a glance at Minako, wondering at her serene and unreadable features that were sparkling with an indefinable emotion.
"Come nearer, let me see you," Ambassador Aino spoke as she immediately complied.
Artemis silently observed the ambassador calmly scrutinizing his daughter who stood as still as a placid lake in winter. He saw the man's eyes soften a little as he spoke, "You present went."
"Thank you, father."
He stared at the father and daughter at disbelief. He just could not believe this yet an older part of his mind berated him. It reminded him that this was a common situation in the silver millennium and that he has become too spoiled with the views of this era.
"Do you still remember my stories on demons?" Ambassador Aino's voice broke through his musings.
"Yes," Minako answered simply.
The ambassador smiled, a touch of pride in it, as his eyes softened a bit more. He kneeled in front of his daughter, grasping her white gloved hands and squeezing gently.
"That's a good girl."
Artemis wondered at the scene in front of him. There was suddenly a heavy solemn atmosphere that pervaded in the room. He felt like he was intruding on something personal, for no matter how formal their addresses were, an indefinable emotion hung between the two. It seemed as if there were many layers of the conversation that he could not and would never understand.
A stab of jealously twinge his heart, but he quashed it ruthlessly. He knew he did not anymore have the right to see himself as her only father.
'After all,' he thought, 'you weren't with her for twelve years.'
He continued watching both father and daughter. The former kneeling down in front of the latter the stood as both masks slipped for a tiny instant and the grip of their hands tightened.
A 16 year old man with coppery blond hair desperately tried to stifle a yawn. A nagging irritation ran through his mind as he scowled at the milling crowds of well-dressed lords and ladies.
'Rich snobs and rabid politicians with their equally rabid sons and daughters,' his mind added sourly as the mantra, 'I had this!' rolled on and on his head.
He was not in the best of moods, his day having gone from bad to worse. Here he was at some stuck-up party that had no relevance to himself whatsoever, while he had a ton of assignments waiting to be done. And if his day could be worse, he was stuck in a horrendous penguin suit known as the white tie and tails while some bratty female was trying to get his attention.
"Could this day get any better?" he asked sarcastically as he pointedly ignored the girl's advances.
"I don't think so Zach," a male voice answered him. He slanted a look to his side and found himself staring at a towering 17 year old man with silvery blond hair who cut a swat through the throng. It was his stepbrother.
"Easy for you to say, Kenneth," he retorted, annoyance lacing in his voice. He always envied the unwavering calm and control of his elder brother, yet there were times that it simply irritated him. In a way, he simply wanted a person to share in his misery, which he never got with him.
"Aren't you a little bit irritated?!" he whined ever so slightly.
"I don't have time for that," Kenneth answered with a touch of amusement, "Stewing won't get me anywhere."
He glowed at the implication in the statement, but kept his mouth shut. There were moments when his brother took the word, elder, a little too far. It earned him quite a lot of nicknames, not that he cared. This moment seemed like one of them as he thought sourly, 'Here goes the commander.'
"I also understand the importance of these get-togethers," Kenneth added calmly.
"I still have a LOT to do."
"So do I," his always unflappable brother replied, "But that's not the point, you haven't been sleeping well," his tone making it clear that it was no use fooling him.
"How do you know?!" he choked out, totally surprised that he's been caught. He had always been careful not to wake anyone up, whenever he jerked awake in the middle of the night. It wasn't because of his ego, much as people and he would like to think. It was more of a part of him was telling him to be strong.
'Be strong for me, your prince, and. . .her,' a husky feminine voice whispered in his mind, the voice in his dream.
"Because I've been having dreams as well," his brother spoke in a matter of fact tone.
He turned to stare at Kenneth in his surprise. Green eyes met silver and he simply knew that they dreamt about one and the same thing.
"Do you know who she was?" he asked, his mind remembering the phantom woman. In a mind's eye, he saw her slim willowy form draped in a white robe shining against her tan skin as brown as the soil of the earth. Her ocean colored eyes shone with tears as her arms were spread wide in welcome or in suffering and her forest colored hair whipped around her like a blanket.
"No," Kenneth answered, his eyes and voice thoughtful, "But she seemed so familiar."
'Be strong for me, your prince, and. . .her,' her voice once again echoed in their minds, a voice like a queen, a mother, a sister, and a lover.
"I know," he murmured, lost again in thought that he did not notice the newly arrived guests and his stepfather's motions to greet them.
Kenneth watched his younger brother loose himself in his own little world. He sighed and grabbed the other's arm in order to prevent the wrath of their father from falling upon them.
"Get a grip, Zach," he hissed at his brother's ear, causing the latter to blink at him in confusion.
He tilted his head meaningfully at his father who had the beginnings of a frown curving his lips. Zachary swallowed nervously at the sight as he shrugged off his grip and nervously fixed his suit. Kenneth said nothing as he purposely strode towards his waiting father and stepmother, Zachary trailing behind.
"Kenneth, Zachary," his father spoke motioning to the group in front of him, "I would like you to meet Ambassador Aino and his family. Ambassador Aino, this is my son, Kenneth Marcus and my stepson, Zachary Greene."
He greeted respectfully while besides him, his brother echoed his sentiments. He couldn't help but note the grim seriousness that wrapped around the Ambassador, chilling him, and the predatory beauty of his wife, much to his disgust. But what truly riveted his attention was the slight 12 year old girl besides them. She wasn't looking at them, her face tilted at the side, staring at some distant point in the crowd.
He stared at her dazedly as images began to assail him. Images of the same golden haired woman staring pensively at a calm and listless silver sea. She looked lost and forlorn yet cold and remote, like an angel who sadly watched from above the sins of mortals.
"Princess," he greeted her in a voice not wholly of his own. It was a voice that sounded deeper and older, laced with the iciness and remoteness of death. He wondered why he sounded that way, but thought not of it when she turned his way. She literally took his breath away, even his dream persona grudgingly admitting to her beauty.
"King-general," she replied in a cool formal voice, the small hint of vulnerability he saw all gone, "I trust your stay was pleasant?"
"It was," he replied, a part of him studying her form and unconsciously wishing to see the angel that seemed much more human than the one who was facing him now, "I thank you for the hospitality."
"No, I should thank you," she replied as she turned away to once again stare at the sea, "I have never seen the Princess so happy, until now."
"It was the Prince who made her happy, not us," he reminded her gently, wondering why he felt the need to comfort this woman, this stranger. Good sense told him to leave, yet he could not. The instincts that flared when she was around, obliterated everything. He could have wondered if this was a trick or some spell, yet he recoiled at the idea of her being treacherous.
She never responded as she continued to stare at the horizon. Suddenly, she spun around and grabbed his hand. It startled him and he found himself staring a her light blue eyes. He felt entranced and his gray eyes remained locked with her. He realized what he was doing and he pulled back but she would not let him hand go. He was not sure what to do when his gaze flickered to his hand and hers and found himself staring at a full bloomed white lily.
"Princess," he spoke in a puzzled tone as he met her eyes, "I do not. . ."
"I am giving you this," she interrupted him, her voice hushed, "to remind you that once something has reached the zenith of its perfection and beauty, death is sure to come."
His eyes widened at her words when he felt the gentle pressure of her hand disappear. He stared at her in stupefaction as she hastily backed away with her eyes ever so slightly wide. She turned away and disappeared when he realized with a pang that she herself was shocked by her actions and was frightened that he saw a chink in her armor. He wished she had not fled, his heart ached for her and her words and his body still tingled with her touch. He could still feel her and her soft smooth delicate hand, could still smell her scent that mimicked a white lily so well, and could still see her every feature heightened to an excruciating degree. It was here that he realized he loved her.
'Venus,' the battle hardened warrior king within whispered in his mind.
'Venus,' the young man, Kenneth Marcus, whispered dazedly as well.
He saw her, the pensive angel draped in a gold Grecian gown. He saw her, the remote little girl in white. He saw her in the mind's eye, and knew.
Suddenly, he heard the dream's voice in his mind, as it screamed, 'Help me! HELP ME!' in a hysterical pitch. The image shattered in his mind and he was left with the unreality of blistering heat and the acrid smell of panic and charred flesh as the world exploded around them.
A faint sense of unease fluttered around Minako. That nagging feeling had appeared ever since she met Artemis and had intensified as another day rolled by. But what really set her at the edge was the actions of her father. She still remembered his weary and solemn eyes, his intense grip and the warmth of his hands that seeped through her gloves.
'Why are like this, father?' she wondered, 'Why are you bringing up those stories?'
She remembered clearly her father's stories. They were about demons, how they were and how to defeat them. They were such strange stories, made even stranger by his actions. He usually talked to her during tea time, his grave and intense voice speaking against the rays of the midday sun or the dimming sunlight. It always felt like a lesson, yet they were fond memories to her.
'Not unlike mother,' she whispered to herself.
She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she never realized that they were already inside the ballroom. She was only jolted away from her thoughts when she felt a familiar aura. Her eyes scanned the crowd, not caring if she seemed rude or the consequences. An urgency demanded she find the source as her eyes swept pass the faceless people to lay on a pair of hauntingly familiar somber garnet eyes.
"Pluto," she whispered ever so softly.
"Ambassador Aino," the garnet eyed woman greeted with a respectful smile.
"Setsuna," her father greeted back and then motioned towards their host, "Lord Marcus, this is my trusted aide de camp, Meiou Setsuna. Setsuna, this is Lord Marcus, the head of SAS."
She watched with such intensity as they exchanged pleasantries. She was certain Setsuna is Pluto. There was proof enough when their eyes met, when she saw her looking exactly like what she remembered and when that ageless voice whispered to her mind. It was time, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Then, another familiar aura assailed her. But all she felt was anger and disgust. She knew it so well, the feeling that slimly aura evoked. It was something she could never forget or forgive.
'Adonis! You traitorous bastard!' she inwardly seethed as she saw a silver haired man saunter arrogantly towards them. She vaguely heard her father introduce him as Adam, another trusted aide.
'Trusted aide my foot!' she snarled in her mind, 'Since when could that self-serving lecherous viper be trusted?'
Their eyes met, but refused to give him any satisfaction as she kept her features as cool and as remote as ever. It felt like eternity as his lips curved into a smirk. The next thing she knew, a cold chill struck her and the world exploded around her.
Everything was like a blur to her. Minako couldn't seem to remember anything except for the sound of screams, explosions, shattering glass, the deafening stampede, and manic laughter that echoed in her stunned mind. She remembered feeling fragile yet strong arms grabbing her and she was slammed into the ground as an intense pain blossomed in her side. The force bruised her back and shoulders as her ears then registered the tinkling sound of shattering glass and her skin felt the sharp edges sliced through, drawing blood.
She blinked, her vision and mind clearing. She was back to present, and what greeted her eyes was the sight of devastation. All around her was slick dried blood and blackened soot as men and women rushed to save the screaming injured.
"Minako. . ." a thready whisper reached her ears. Her head whipped to the side to see her father laid in a stretcher, injured and weak. She crawled towards him, beyond caring about how she look, beyond caring how the sharp stones and grass drew more of her blood. All she cared about was reaching her father.
"I'm here," she whispered, her voice steady yet it wavered at the last note. She grasped his hand, her grip slightly desperate for she could see he was fast fading away.
"My stories were true," he spoke weakly, "You're my heir so you have to continue what I've started. Setsuna and Adam will help you."
She could only nod dumbly as he tried to give her one last smile. She felt her grip slackening as she saw him valiantly tried to touch her face, speaking, "I wanted to protect you forever. . ."
His voice trailed off as his hands fell limply. Minako could only watch as his eyes closed for the last time. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and she reached out to it, grasping it like a lifeline. She knew it was Setsuna's.
"Your mother was killed as well, I'm sorry, but there is much to tell," she heard her say, but she ignored it.
'I won't cry,' she thought to herself, 'I won't cry,' the words rolled again and again in her mind as her bright blue eyes were filled with tears and none fell.
'I swear, you will all pay.'