Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or any other related characters.
Chapter 6
Yukihada
The branches shimmered silver and dark in between the swirls of snow. The trees seemed to move and dance between the sparkling snowflakes. A soft tinkling melody followed the drifts chiming like ice against ice-- a bright, mysterious chord. Mamoru smiled, the snow globe would be perfect for Ami. He could not place the melody, and the sticker telling the name had long since disappeared from the intricately carved silver base. He had spent the better part of the day buying presents for Christmas. This would be his last gift.
He left the warmth and glimmer of the shop for the cold twilight of the outside. Mamoru buried his chin into his scarf as the wind gathered again. He sighed softly and prepared himself for a blustery walk to his apartment. The wind gusted again, and he silently cursed himself for not calling a taxi earlier. When he pulled his face up he noticed he was near Ami's dormitory. Perhaps...A flurry of snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes made the decision for him.
He started up the long walk towards the front entrance and noticed something glimmering in the trees a short distance away. He stopped. Again the light shifted in the shadows and dense snowdrifts between the oaks. He walked silently through the snow stopping a small distance from the grove. His breath swirled slowly -- a white mist in front of his eyes. Then he saw her--face tilted up watching the snow swirl and dance through the branches. She smiled softly and raised her hands up the downy flakes lingering a moment in her palms before dancing away. Ami...Mamoru watched her thoughtfully. "She's perfect, porcelain..."
Ami looked up, a shifting shadow caught the corner of her eye. Somewhere along the edge of the trees she heard a crow rustle and rearrange its feathers before cawing and flying off. The moment was broken. She stirred herself and began walking back towards her dorm. On nights like this she felt more at ease, more comfortable with power and its pulsing grace underneath her skin. I should write Michiru. Michiru and Setsuna had become mentors of a sort for her as she explored the boundaries of her abilities as a senshi. Tonight had not been an exercise of power, more an echo of nostalgia for a time, a world, another self from whom she felt disjointed. The wind and snow comforted as nothing else could.
She reached into her pocket and looked up to see Mamoru waiting at her door. A smile blossomed across her face before she realized it was there. "Mamoru," she gently nodded her head at him. Then looking at him sideways with a smile she sent him her silent question.
"In the neighborhood... I was hoping that you had some form of tea or cocoa stashed somewhere in your dorm. Some form of warm mercy for a freezing acquaintance."
He grinned at her trying to hide the shadow of what he was thinking. It was her. Does she even remember him? He was uncertain whether it was more merciful for her not to remember Zoisite, or if it was depriving her of some faint trace of love she deserved. He mulled over this as he made himself comfortable in the only arm chair in the compact room. He studied her face as she microwaved two mugs of water. He couldn't read anything across her still, pale features. Ami handed him some hot cocoa with her slight smile then curled her legs under her as she sat on the little area rug. She took a small sip then looked up at Mamoru.
The scene unraveled: she met his eyes and couldn't look away from what she saw there - a hint of desire, longing and loneliness. She felt herself drawn towards his darkening eyes. Inexplicably she leaned up and brushed his dark bangs away from his eyes. He caught her narrow wrist neatly. Then with a great deal of slow, bittersweet passion he kissed her rapid pulse then pulled her up to his face. Her throat hitched as she felt his warmer breath mingling with her own. Ami looked away overwhelmed, but Mamoru captured her chin with his free hand. She met his eyes again and found herself caught in his kiss. His lips unlocked hers, tasted the snow and rain on her cool skin. Ami leaned in further surrounded by the warm earth scent of him and the more subtle fragrance of deep forests. Her free hand splayed, a pale starfish against his heart. She was drowning slowly.
Mamoru shook himself awake. His lips felt numb and hot while his head kept spinning. He looked down at Ami. She stared at him intently and a little quizzically, her pale skin flushed pink. He remembered watching her in the snow. She looked so delicate like a skein of ice and snow on water, her movements so gentle and fragile. She had seemed breakable, and he wanted to take that away. Even now looking down at her chest rising slowly with her heartbeat throbbing in her neck, he wanted to pull more poignant sweetness out of her mouth.
"Mamoru?" her soft question broke his thoughts.
He couldn't meet her question, painfully he looked away from her trembling face.
"I don't know, Ami. I'm sorry." He stood suddenly and grabbed his jacket dropping off a small package at the doorway. He turned back just once memorizing her large, still eyes, hurt bruising beneath them before he ran out the door. The snow stung his eyes. He wiped gently at his face wondering at the wetness staining his fingers.
Ami stared out her window watching shadow and light dapple his figure in the snow. Her hand clutched her heart. The empty ache beneath her chest blossomed sharper as she watched him disappear. She turned slowly away her feet moving automatically towards the doorway. Confusion numbing her thoughts she picked up the small box he left behind. Unwrapping the box slowly, she picked up the snow globe with trembling fingers. The white, shimmering flakes swirled between the dark bare trees. Her fingers traced the wrought silver base and twisted the crank. She collapsed into the armchair, an echo of Mamoru's warmth clung to the fabric. The melody haunted the room as she reached down for the fallen card.
Ami- Wishing you joy and happiness. Merry Christmas! Mamoru
She clenched her hand around the card. Staring out at the falling snow, warm tears splashed against her one empty hand. I'm going to freeze in my own heart in this empty room. A little whisper joined the melody..."Why?"
If she mouths the rain, she'll
swallow the syllables for grief, but it's too cold
to go outside or drink the air.
Mary Moore "The Book of Snow"