Hi. As you all know, this is my first fanfiction. I got an alert as to how blocky this thing was previously, so I had to redo it, hopefully the format will be fixed and the grammar will be better(as if it wasn't good already…).
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Sailor Moon-though I wish I did. So please, do not sue me!! I am too cute to sue, anyway.
Again, I humbly request that all flames be e-mailed to me and not posted in the reviews. Thank u!! =^_^=
*~Moonlight Siren~*
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Brrrriiiiinnnnggggg!!!!
An alarm clock on a walnut
dresser sent the harsh sound of it's tones vibrating throughout the rest of the
3-story Victorian mansion it was in. A hand, seemingly lost, reached out into
space, and, by chance, turned the thing off. A groan emitted from the bed as a
groggy figure rose up and shoved it's feet into tiny bunny slippers, pausing a
moment to make sure that polish on it's small toes was not chipped. Trudging to
the bathroom, a robe and towel were awkwardly snatched from the back of a
cushioned chestnut sofa before the bathroom door was slammed shut behind the
petite silhouette. In the bedroom below, a woman lying in bed with her husband
rolled over and teased his chest hair with her breath. "She's up," he
mumbled, responding to the soft fingers brushing against his cheek. "That
means we should be getting up too." He looked at her lovingly and smiled.
Twenty-three years of loving her…he would never let her go. They shared a
lingering kiss before going about their morning activities. Soon enough, Kenji
was by the door, laptop in hand. Giving his wife a quick peck on the cheek, he
dashed out the door, yelling that he'd be back sometime before 10 that night.
"And Yuko, do try to get Bunny to change her attitude towards life. One boyfriend is not the end of the world. Encourage her to go out more, make some new friends."
Ikuko nodded, smiling at the use of his pet name for her in broad daylight. He was usually shy about such things. She waved and closed the door after seeing her husband pull out of the driveway. 37. She would be turning 37 this year, and she still didn't know how to deal with her 16-year-old daughter Serena. Serena was a perfectly sweet and courteous child, but her shyness and withdrawn behavior made it hard for her to allow herself to fit in. Yuko shook her head.
"Bunny, breakfast!"
Serena, upstairs in her room, tried to tame her semi-wavy locks and failed. In a sigh of defeat, she swept her hair back and secured it at the side of her face with a clip encrusted with mother of pearl and small oval diamonds. She reluctantly looked back at her mirror and stared at the countenance within that was observing her with equal interest. "You're wasting your time," she said softly to herself, picking up a brush and then stroking her hair gently. "There's not much to see." At sixteen, she had a fairly large bust and an extremely tiny waist, but it suited her small 5' frame well. Her large, clear gray eyes and creamy white skin had a dramatic effect, giving her an aura of grace. Which was, to say in the least, far from true. A quick application of black eye shadow and blood red lipstick almost completed her morning agenda. She stood up before her mirror, giving herself a final look over. As she twisted her long blonde hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, she thought about her social life. She was in her junior year and St. Alban's Academy for the Elite and had only managed to make 5 real friends. Her last boyfriend had only recently dumped her for some other girl and she was having a rather hard time with it. She was trying to do something about it because she could tell it was having a serious effect on her behavior, not to mention her schoolwork. She sighed and then removed her small case from a drawer on the bureau. Before she put in her contacts, she took a good look at her eyes. The orbs misty gray seemed to want to hypnotize her with their depth. If every once in a while she had looked up from the floor in walking to class she would have noticed that they'd already hypnotized many longing hearts around her. She was a dreamlike beauty, but was oblivious to it. She believed that the color of her eyes, a birth defect due to medication her mother was taking while she was pregnant with her, labeled her as a freak of nature. No one but her family and members of the upper elite knew the true color of her eyes and she intended to keep it that way. She put in her contacts and looked back into the mirror. Now, with her blue eyes, she felt complete. She got up from the vanity bench, smoothed her skirt and blazer and headed out the bedroom door towards her mother's beckoning voice.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Evening had just settled on
the town. It seemed to get darker earlier and earlier as the days progressed.
The streetlights flickered furiously and then stabilized, casting an eerie glow
on the gum-riddled sidewalks. Somewhere, not too far off, church bells tolled,
announcing mass and the time, their deep reverberating sound sending a sense of
peace through the cathedral and the mansions that made up the skyline. It
reached a small, elegant restaurant that took up half a block by itself, the
name "Othello's" delicately etched deep into the masonry. Sitting
near the glass at a table by himself, was a young man in his late teens. He
listened carefully to the tolling of the bells. Ding! … Ding! … Ding! … The sound continued on, and
then, abruptly, stopped. 7 tolls. 7 o'clock. People in their bulky fur coats
and finery waddled along like penguins through the snow. He watched them
pitter-patter on towards the cathedral. Chuckling as he observed a small child
slide on a patch of ice and regain her balance, her almost didn't notice the
waitress who placed the bill on the corner of the table. He turned around and
watched her walk away. It reminded him of the previous women in his life-they
had all walked away, too. He called to her, requesting a last cup of coffee.
She nodded, without turning around, to acknowledge that she'd heard him. She
returned shortly with the coffee and picked up his credit card and disappeared
again to process the bill. He looked around him. The other tables, perfectly
set with cutlery and crystalline salt-and-pepper shakers, were empty. After a
quick moment of thought, he placed a fifty-dollar tip on the table. He laughed,
remembering a time when he could be so free with his funds, much less with so
much. The waitress, returning with his card, was startled by his laugh. He'd
made nary a sound sitting there, so his laughter, though pleasant to her ears,
was unexpected. It was low and rich and rippled through the air even after he'd
stopped laughing, reminding her of the church bells. She whispered a goodnight
and thanked to him as she turned to leave after delivering his card.
"Good night."
He responded in kind before putting on his
coat and picking up his suitcase and stepping through the restaurant doors into
the blistering winter cold. He'd been wandering around for days since he came
to this unfamiliar town, looking for the place where he was to stay. Usually he
preferred dark places, solidarity, but right now he was becoming desperate,
afraid that he might be lost and hoped to find the place as soon as possible.
The cold air blowing through the streets was enough to chill anyone's soul, and
he felt his was near frozen. He chuckled at the thought, considering the fact
that he probably didn't have one. He hurried on before he came to a dark lane.
He cursed the rich and their need to live so far apart and stopped and
considered whether or not to go and look to see if the dark speck at the end
was the estate he was looking for. He'd been down so many others that his hope
was dwindling. As her pondered, the lights cast shadows on his strong features,
reflecting beams of light off of his black head. Deep blue eyes, a straight nose and a rounded jaw were clearly
defined. Finally, he turned towards the
dismal street and strode as quickly as he could towards he knew not what. At
the end was a lone, looming mansion.
Trudging towards it, he pulled a very haggard piece of paper from his
pocket that had obviously seen its better days. He glanced briefly at it and
transferred his gaze to the house behind the gates in front of him. He inhaled
and sighed deeply. He rang the bell on one of the stone pillars and the gates
silently swung open. He walked the distance to the double doors of the
mansion. Looking for another bell, he
saw none and yanked a cord hanging to the right (which, he assumed, would alert
someone to his presence). He fidgeted
nervously as he saw the windows on a floor high up illuminate. He ran his
fingers through his hair as he heard footsteps approach. He peered anxiously
into the panels of stained glass, but the dark colors made his effort futile. As the door opened, he picked up his
suitcase and looked down into the face of a residential butler, who looked back
at him with a stare of disinterest. "Yes?"
"I'm here to see a Mrs. Jen-"
"Mrs. Chiba? Wait here, please." The butler walked over to a phone
near the doorway and was soon saying something incoherently into the receiver.
He came back to the door. "She'll be down in a moment." The young man
thanked the butler and waited patiently. Soon a tall, elegant woman who seemed
to be in her early 30's descended from the swirling staircase a few yards from
the doors. She approached the door briskly, her dark brown hair moving from
side to side with every step she took. "Is that the boy?" she called,
when she had almost reached. "Yes, madam." She soon stood in the
passageway between him and the warmth of the house. The boy almost forgot who
he was. He bowed in greeting.
"Hello. I was sent here to a Mrs. Jenkins-Chiba. I'm…"
He never had a chance to finish his sentence. The woman clutched at the locket on the chain around her neck. She pointed at him, her mouth rounded as though she were a fish out of water. The inarticulate sounds escaping her throat slowly became coherent, and her face became white as she began to recognize the boy standing in front of her. The butler looked a bit concerned, and finally reached out and touched her shoulder.
"Mrs. Chiba? Mrs. Chiba, are you alright?"
She did not answer him.
"You're…you're..."
She said no more-she collapsed into a crumpled heap onto the threshold.
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Mwhahahahahahahahaha!!! Cliff hanger!!! And now it is time for the moment of
truth. Please R&R. Tell me if I
should post Chapter 3.I think I might post Chapter 2 without reviews but please
review it anyways. Thank u!!!
~ Siren ~
