Author: Abigail aka Moonchild aka Drive Me Mercury
Email: abigail@makenai.org
Rating: PG-13 (subject to go up or down)
Chapter started: 2-10-03 Chapter ended:
Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and all characters and settings belong to the one-and-only Naoko Takeuchi. All created characters and plots within this story are my own.
Here's a Materials Collection-style character sketch of Miya, with my conception of what she looks like and some basic stats: http://www.makenai.org/makenai/fanart/mine/miyachan.jpg
^_^
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
*Chapter 2*
-Of Rabbits and Blood Types-
Setsuna nearly dropped the folders in her hand at the young girl's question, but managed to quickly recover. "Miya-chan, your father passed away when you were small, and your mother lives with you in the palace residences," she answered matter-of-factly.
Miya frowned again and stood up, gathering George in her arms. She didn't look at Setsuna but petted the rabbit absently.
"My dad was an A blood-type and my mom is an AB-type."
"T-that's nice…" Setsuna said after a moment, not sure what caused this sudden apparent change in subject and a little thrown off-guard.
"I'm an O-TYPE!! A and AB people can't have O-type babies, it's impossible!"
The guardian of Time did her best to conceal every emotion or expression that might give away anything she knew. She had known this day would have to come. Even if she was prepared for the most part, she knew certain other people were not.
"Now, who told you that?"
The nine-year-old wasn't about to be patronized. "Alexiel did," she said, referring to one of the teenage staff children who also resided in the palace annex. "Setsuna-san, I've known since I was FIVE that I was adopted! I know she's not my REAL mom. I asked her, and she said she doesn't know who they are, but I know she's lying!"
Setsuna sighed and perched on the edge of the chair. She knew this all too well, but at five years old no one had thought the young Miya comprehended anything – she had even insisted that Makiko was her one and only mother whom she loved so of course Makiko had given birth to her 'daughter'. No one had ventured to explain things then, or even give the slightest details surrounding the adoption. Miya had never mentioned it since then, and even Setsuna assumed the child had forgotten. "Your mother isn't lying," she spoke gently. "She doesn't know. But, Miya-chan, you already have a parent who loves you very much and cares for you more than anything in the world."
Miya hung her head. "I love Mom, but… I just want to know about where I came from." It was true. There were so many things about herself she didn't understand, and growing older, she only realized it more and more. Not just growing pains, but other things that normal children didn't have. Maybe others didn't see it, but Miya knew… she was –different-. And somehow, she thought, if she could find out who she was, she would understand why. She didn't say all this aloud, but she trusted Setsuna more than anyone to be able to explain it all.
"I understand." She reached out and brushed aside the girl's bangs, then stood up. "But there's nothing I can tell you either."
The pigtailed head snapped upwards. "But- "
"Now I need to take these to the Queen's office."
"But, Setsuna-san, why won't you tell me? I know you know –something-!!"
"What makes you think that?"
"Because you know –everything-!"
Setsuna almost chuckled wryly at this last outburst. 'Not quite, dear. If I knew everything, I'd understand much more about why things happen in the way they do, why some people act in the way that they do…'
"Run home," she instructed the girl. Miya simply gave her a pouting glare and didn't move from where she stood. Setsuna turned and walked away down the hall.
It wasn't long before she heard the tapping of feet running the other direction.
Not now. Not yet. She had hoped the girl wouldn't bring up any questions until she was older, and she'd been fortunate until now. The truth was, Miya's questions were long overdue. It was only natural for her to want to know her identity. But if her birth mother wasn't ready to approach her yet, it wasn't Setsuna's place to give the child the whole truth. As much as she had wanted to reveal at least a part of the past, she couldn't respond to Miya's inquiries. Besides, she feared the shock of everything would be too much for the young girl. Whether she ever learned the entire truth, or only a piece of it, was up to her mother.
But from this conversation she could see, things were already starting to stir in the girl's heart. And Setsuna had a feeling Miya would not be easily pacified with vague stories.
Eventually, she would know. And even by Setsuna's predictions, there was no telling what the impact would be – on both mother and child, and even persons beyond.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Miya plopped herself onto the carpeted floor of her bedroom with a huff, tugging at a braided pigtail out of habit. George hopped away from her and went off to lazily explore the room.
She wouldn't cry. Babies cry. She wasn't a baby. She'd get the truth out of Setsuna no matter how long it took. She grabbed a pillow to squeeze all her anger and emotion out into the polyester.
A noise startled her, and she looked up just in time to see that George had gotten himself too close to a dangerously unstable pile of books and homework that came tumbling down. With a cry she jumped up to pull the books away and unearth the round ball of white fluff. He appeared to be unhurt, and making soothing sounds, she gently picked him up. The animal's red eyes were still wide from the sudden shock of having big heavy rectangular things fall out of the sky, and his small limbs trembled.
Miya curled herself in the soft red blanket that was wrinkled on her bedroom floor. She bent her upper body and pulled her knees toward her chin to form a sheltered nest for the rabbit that sat with his soft body brushing against her stomach.
"Shhh… it's okay," she soothed, running her hand over the silky white fur. "You're scared, I can feel it. Don't worry. No need to be frightened anymore…" There was no one else in the room to see the pink glow that surrounded the rabbit and the hand that caressed its fur, but even if someone had been, they would have dismissed it as a trick of the eye, so faint was it. "There you go…" she continued to speak softly as she felt the animal relax. "Why are you sad, George? Are you lonely like me?" Softly she began to sing the lines of a lullaby that she had know since before she could remember.
Take a shooting star
And hide it in your pocket
And keep it close beside your heart until we meet again
I'll take a shooting star
And softly wish upon it…
She stopped abruptly. She could never remember the last lines of the song. They were always there, on the tip of her memory, but they never came. Right now, however, there was no need.
George had fallen asleep.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
The blur of a video rewinding in fast backward motion filled the large security screen. A long slender finger hit a button on the panel below and the video jumped into real time. On the film recorded this morning somewhere in one of the palace's many wide halls, a black-haired child ambled on her hands and knees, following a white rabbit that hopped a curious zigzag path down the carpet. With several more touches of buttons the screen zoomed in closer to the child's face – laughing blue eyes unaware that they were being watched.
"You're truly predictable, you know."
With the movement of a startled hand the screen went black.
"No one could tell me where you were, so I came here."
"Setsuna-san."
"When will you stop watching her from the shadows, and start speaking face to face?"
The seated figure looked away. "It's not the time yet."
"She's asking questions. She wants to know about her past. I don't think she should know everything, but you might at least talk to her. She's old enough now to understand such things."
"I know," The other woman turned to gaze at her old friend. "Yet…why the change in tone, Setsuna-san? You once told me some parts of the past are best left forever buried."
It was the dark-haired woman's turn to lower her head. "I only ask that you consider what's best for the child."
The seated woman gazed at the folded hands in her lap. Her thoughts appeared to be somewhere far away. At length, she spoke. "I meant to wait until she was older. But I shall tell her when I'm ready. I shall talk to her soon."
"Somehow you don't convince me."
"I shall this time… I promise."
