Hour 2:30
By Spirit-hime
************
Author's Note: This was originally going to be a part of Hour II, however given that Hour II was growing way too long, I split it up into two parts. I apologise for not adding it BEFORE I uploaded Hour III, but apparently I forgot to, because I just discovered that it's not up. ^_^;;; My sincerest apologies to all readers. On the bright side, its lack of existance really didn't interrupt the flow of the story, being that it's just more memories of the past. However, I couldn't allow it to remain missing, as certain things that happen here will pop up later. Anyway, here's to my screwing up! XD
-"--'--{3
Pluto stood on the edge of oblivion. Well, not quite oblivion, as the depths of the ravine had to lead SOMEWHERE. Though as she stood poised at the edge of a never-ending cliff, she was certain that she did not want to find out just where it lead. Above her, dark clouds churned and swirled, perpetually creating new patterns in various shades of grey. The Winds were icy against her exposed skin, but she seemed not to notice as she gazed out upon the barren emptiness, where more clouds, more cliffs, and more dull grey matter awaited her.
A pair of warm arms slid around her waist. She leaned into them, reveling in the feeling of having another human being close by. But although her body welcomed the soft warmth, her troubled eyes continued to gaze out across the vastness.
"What's wrong?" As he spoke, Charon's mouth was so close to her ear that she felt the soft breath against her cheek, sending a subtle tingle through her skin.
"Nothing." A lie.
"C'mon, you really think I believe that after you've been moping around here all day?"
"We don't have days, remember? Lack of time flow and all that."
"You know what I mean. What's been bugging you?"
"I... it's stupid."
"I doubt that."
She hesitated a moment before rounding to face him, fixing him squarely with her deep red gaze. "Do you... I mean... have you ever seen flowers before, Charon? Real ones?"
A hint of relief filled her when he did not laugh. Instead he looked at her thoughtfully. "I think I've had a picture book with some in it. They were rather strange looking, actually. All those pointy parts sticking out."
She sighed a deflating sigh. "Exactly," she stated, as though this confirmed some silent argument that he was not aware of. Suddenly the ground seemed profoundly interesting. "I just... I dunno Charon, I want to SEE them! I want to see color other than grey and black! I want to smell something other than dust that is older than time itself! I want to hold onto something that doesn't last forever! I... I guess it's shallow of me to think about such things when we're here protecting the greatest secret in the universe. But I... I just..."
Her words faded into a slow gasp as his lips brushed hers. She leaned into the kiss, submitting to a flood of emotion that spilled out in the form of crystaline tears. The monochromatic world around her vanished. All that mattered was that kiss. That kiss and those arms that held her still, that held back the cold emptiness. She felt as though she would collapse. Both leaned against one another, if only in an effort to remain standing.
It never ended. It ended too soon. The world remained spinning, yet abruptly righted itself. It was faded and yet more vivid than ever. She looked into his coal-black eyes, wanting only to dive ever deeper into that warm darkness. He gazed down at her, so content merely to look upon her face. He put a hand to her cheek, carefully wiping tears from her soft skin. "You're so beautiful. Never cry. Tears don't become you."
-"--'--{3
Sailor Pluto stood in the pillared area of the Underworld. At her feet was a current ongoing game of chess, the pawns and knights armed for battle. Anxiously, she wrung her hands. She had good reason to be worried, or she thought so anyway. She had not seen Charon in a while. In fact, it had been quite a long time since she last saw him. And this was not good. No, not good in the least. Namely because the Underworld just is not a good place to lose someone in. So she searched. She searched, and her worry grew. He can't be missing, he could not have gone far. Where would he be? Just a million and one alternate timelines, that's where he'd be. Frantically, she turned her head in either direction, as though he might be behind some pillar somewhere, lost in the distant fog.
Now calm down, girl. What can you use to find Charon when you lose him?
The Time Keys, that's what.
They were ingenius little inventions, really. Right up there with the Space Sword. These were not the trinkets that Pluto wore on a chain around her waist. Oh no, these were much more. Pluto herself used a very large one; in fact, it was more of a staff. On the top was the Garnet Orb, the sacred jewel that was one of the three special Talismans. The long shaft that extended down from the orb held many intricate pieces, which gave it the appearance of an oversized key. Charon did not carry a Talisman, exactly, but his own item was nevertheless invaluable to his task and, indeed, his very life. It was not quite so impressive as Pluto's key; in fact, its size was closer to that of a regular skeleton key. It was black, not black like ebony, but black like smoke, so that it appeared tarnished. But in fact, it was crafted not of metal, but of some hard black stone. In the top was a tiny dark red jewel, very much like a miniature replica of the Orb itself.
These two keys--both great and small--had various purposes. Pluto's staff could perform such tricks as opening and sealing the Space-Time Door, manipulating (to an extent) the Winds of Hades, and even stopping time. Charon's key was slightly different. It could do nothing to the Door, but it could ensure safe passage through time once that Door was opened. It could also perform a limited amount of manipulation of the Winds of Hades, though not nearly as well as its larger counterpart. But--and this is where they came in handy at the moment--both were also capable of tracking one another. The keys were connected--not quite like a telephone, exactly, but it was somewhat of the same idea.
She immediately calmed down, realizing how foolish she was for not thinking of such an obvious solution sooner. Her hand strayed to the Garnet Orb at the top of her staff, which in turn warmly washed its reddish glow across the face of its companion. She closed her eyes, listening without her ears to the voice of the jewel, that which was both weapon and comrade, as much an extension of her own body as the hand that touched it. It whispered to her, in a voice so fleeting that if one listened too hard they would lose it.
This way.
Pluto followed its guidence for some time before her concern began to grow. She was being led farther and farther from the area of Time-Space that was familiar. The Winds were turning stronger, ancient and unyielding in their journey through the passages of time. It was becoming harder to move now, harder to press on without being swept away to some distant corner of the continuum. The Winds of Hades were fierce, biting, intertwined with time itself. It was all the princess could do to maintain a shield around herself, as they lifted into a frenzied kamikaze, strong enough to dissolve mountains, to crush stars. That was where she found him, amidst the typhoon.
The Winds had found him too, and they were none too amused. Out of the way, they cried, pushing him down with all their heartless, soulless might. Move or be moved.
And moved he was. Charon lay curled in a fetal position, his head buried beneath his arm in a desperate attempt to hide from the unyielding tempest. He clutched his oar-like staff beneath him, as though the weight of his own body could prevent it from being carried off. Something else was also protectively held close to his chest. Something she could not see.
The soldier wasted no time. She lifted the Time Key high over her head, power and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her hair was barely disturbed by the Wind as she gripped her staff in both hands and, without so much as a word, comanded the Winds to fly elsewhere. Slowly, grudgingly, they moved aside, redirecting their paths to other destinies, other roads. What they left behind was silence. Silence and, if one listened closely, the sound of ragged, uneasy breathing.
He was somewhat battered, to put it mildly. One very good reason for the existance of the Space-Time guardians was the fact that it was not uncommon for some foolish wanderer to get themselves killed. He was still shaking when she knelt, pulled him close, and wrapped her arms around him, laying his head against her shoulder. Though his eyes did not open, he leaned into her neck, burying his face in her greenish hair like a distraught child. The sum of Pluto's fear and anxiety boiled into anger, and before she could control it she found herself blurting out in a voice that shook with emotion, "What the hell do you think you're doing out here?! Do you have any idea what kind of danger you were in? No one should mess with the Winds, not even you! Why Charon? Why..."
Then she saw it. She saw what he had been protecting so desperately. It was so perfect, so very ALIVE that it had no place in this world of past and future. Clutched tightly in his hand sat a perfect rose, just beginning to unfurl itself from the winding layers of its own delicate petals. Its color was dusty purple, the color of dusk, just after the clouds have been washed pink by the waning light and before darkness truly sets in. Her fingers brushed the petals, almost too afraid to touch something so exquisite. Tears streamed down her face as she again uttered, "why..."
"You said that... it was what you wanted," he whispered in between struggled breaths.
"You... baka! Don't you know that you're more important than a million flowers?! Don't you know that I would die if I lost you? You're all I really want. You're all I've ever wanted."
She gripped him tighter, as though her arms could absorb the pain from his body. "Never forget that Charon," she breathed, "don't ever forget!"
-"--'--{3
Roses, she discovered, have thorns. Though she did not yet know what the names of these pointy little buggers were, she was soon made aware of the fact that they are both dangerous and painful. In fact, this probably helped explain half the cuts on Charon's arms and hands. However, dangerous weapon or not, it was by far the most intriguing object that Princess Pluto had ever seen, and the amount of attention she paid the purplish flower was second only to the one who had brought it.
In her concern for his condition, the sailor soldier had not thought twice about bringing him back to Charon Palace on her home planet. Sure, leaving the Gates of Time is one of the three taboos she must never break, but Charon had already managed to break a second by crossing time. One broken rule deserves another, right? Right.
At a complete loss for what to put the sharp-pointy-pretty-thing into, she settled for an empty mayonnaise jar. While it lacked the beauty of a real vase, it did a splendid job of holding the rose upright in it's little pool of water, which was exactly the job that was necessary in this kind of situation. The flower bloomed in all its magnificent glory, nobly standing in the former location of raw egg yolk.
Pluto shook her head. That was certainly a pleasant thought. Her eyes strayed to the clock sitting in the corner. It was a beautifully crafted thing, standing a good two feet tall and wrought of some sort of heavy copperish metal. Its form folded into flours and leaves, twisting into the finest detail around the mute white face, upon which the hours were counted out in roman numerals. The short hand pointed at what appeared to be two capital I's next to one another.
He had been asleep for several hours now, and the princess could not stand it. Every time she began to doze off in the dark red armchair in her bedroom, she would suddenly wonder whether she had bandaged his wounds properly, whether he might be too hot or too cold, whether he would wake up, or worse--what if he didn't? And the moment those thoughts crept into her brain, she would be on her feet again, wide-eyed and alert. She fussed over him, returning to the bed on which he lay every five minutes merely to putter around for a while, before again retreating to her chair to wait. Some of these times she was a little more conspicuous than she should have been, dropping things on the floor or turning on a lamp just above his head, secretly hoping that SOMETHING would wake him up.
But he never stirred.
The dark princess heaved a sigh, bending to pick up the tray of newly-spilled bandages. He's like a log, she thought. A big gorgeous green-haired log. With nice shoulders. Oh no, we can't forget those.
As she straightened, she let out a great yelp, once again sending the items crashing to the floor. For at that moment, an arm had wrapped around her waist and yanked her onto the bed, where she came to rest sprawled across the chest of her beloved. As she stared down into a pair of black irises, she thought the world would melt. "How long have you been awake?" She gasped, trying to writhe out of the grasp that held her against his bare chest (which, she thought, was not such a bad place to be, all things considered).
"Long enough to see you bend over in that lovely black dress of yours," he replied with a grin.
"You've been asleep for hours. If I'd known all it took to wake you was my rear end, I would have bent over a long time ago."
"It's the greatest cure in the world. I'm sure the surgeon general¹ would prescribe it."
The exchange was amusing while it lasted, but the young woman's expression soon faltered, and the color of her eyes shifted slightly so that they were two seas of crimson. "You really had me worried, you know." The statement hung in the air, turning stale as it lingered amongst a thick smog of half-expressed emotions. When the silence refused to be broken, she babbled on aimlessly, in hopes of at least pushing it into the background. "You... you got me thinking about what I would do if you weren't here. It's stupid, I know, thinking about "what ifs" all the time like some paranoid mother. But I... didn't really have anything better to do while I was waiting for you."
There was another pause. One that was slightly easier to breathe in. After a time he replied, "So what would you do?"
She gave him a soft smile, laying her head upon his shoulder. He nuzzled his face in her hair as she gave a small sigh, brushing her hand across the side of his neck. "I don't know. I never got that far.
And I don't want to."
************
¹At first glance this statement might be seen as anachronistic, but really, these people live outside of time. It would be impossible to make an anachronism here. Thus, I can make all the modern references I want. XD