Chapter Two: fools rush in
By: Tenshi no Nozomi
Contact at: tenshi_no_nozomi@hotmail.com or tonbo_duo@hotmail.com
Disclaimer:
I don't own Sailor Moon or Weiss Kreuz. The plot is mine, though. If it inspires you to something, please email me before you use it. Thank you.
Author's Notes:
Here is the next chapter, just in time for Easter. I hope this gift pleases you all; I enjoyed writing this. Although, just to let you know... this was not the original version of the chapter. My oneechan advised me to try again, though, and this is what I came up with.
I don't know if the next chapter will be ready as quickly as this one–normally my production is... a bit slower. ^^;; My enthusiasm for this project is what's kept me going. Hopefully I won't burn out. And replies to reviews are featured at the very end of this document–after both the story and post notes.
And a note to Concrete Tenshi... I'm sorry for not getting around to editing quickly enough. I deserve to get a swift kick in the pants, especially after how I reacted to everything. But I do like the way November Rain has changed.
Warnings:
^^;; Fluff warning! And perverted thoughts. Well, this *is* Schu-Schu we're talking about here. Also... Thoughts and mind speech=italics. Anything bold is either stressed or German. You should be able to tell which is which, though.
Thanks:
To my oneechan, Sailor Ronin Usa-chan, for counseling me through my weak moments and for helping me to correct my mistakes and to make this chapter all it could be. Also, to everyone who reviewed chapter one or Sepia and Gray or Like a Lullaby.
Finished: 4/7/2004 (story), 4/8/2004 (review replies)
Usagi frowned as she was rudely awoken by the sounds of the slamming screen door and the shrieking of children. She emitted a groan of protest before rolling over and smothering her face in her pillow. She'd just managed to relax again when a second round of delighted squeals pulled her back from la-la land again.
She grumbled in protest but sat up slowly, lazily. She blinked her sleepy eyes against the half-dark in the room. She was just lucky that Luna wasn't here or the cat would have driven her insane trying to wake her up. She would have been tempted to throw her guardian out the window and into the cold, briny sea, she thought with a bemused smile.
She yawned and stretched her sleep-stiff muscles, weaning herself away from the warm, sluggish comfort of her bed. She carefully moved the heavy curtain just a fraction of an inch away from where it met its counterpart. She flinched and let the material drop back into place, having been blinded by the early afternoon sun. She padded over to her suitcase, still filled with her belongings–which included carelessly flung and rumpled shirts and shorts.
She randomly selected clothes from the heap, not really caring how she looked at the moment. This was, after all, summer vacation, she reasoned. A week and a half of sweet, lazy, bliss.
She wandered downstairs and to the bathroom. That required that she wander through the living room and kitchen which were connected seamlessly, but there was thankfully no one inside to both her.
She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind, taking extra care to make sure she'd locked it behind her. It was a good thing that she was not claustrophobic, because the bathroom wasn't spacious by any means. She grabbed a towel from the cabinet, set it on the toilet seat, and turned the shower on.
Once the temperature of the water had reached her priority, she got in. The procedure was brisk–Usagi'd learned the hard way that the water temperature was unreliable for extended periods of time. She scrubbed herself down with her favorite freesia body wash and washed her hair out before climbing out. She dried herself just as quickly, and finished up her morning ritual by dressing herself and combing out her wet hair. She tied it up in her traditional twin buns and was finished.
She walked out of the bathroom and was nearly run over by Shingo. She screeched in surprise and anger, reeling back reflexively at the same time. He grinned at her obnoxiously–in the way that only little boys ever truly learn and perfect–and left her to fume silently after he went about his mischief.
Usagi headed back upstairs, passing the food pantry on her way. She stopped and grabbed a bag of chocolates before continuing on her way; there was nothing like chocolate for breakfast and lunch. The lure of having a drink while eating pulled her over again only a moment later, and she pulled the door to the mini fridge open eagerly.
Her eyes scanned the barren looking box for anything edible. There was milk, a bottle of water, apple juice for ChibiUsa, and a bottle of soda. She grabbed it, grinning, but the grin slowly formed a frown as she reexamined that last item.
Her parents did not buy soda in bottles, but rather in the twelve or twenty four packs of cans. Not only that, but she'd finished up the last can yesterday. So where had this bottle come from?
Her memory from the night before hit her like a ton of bricks, and she could have kicked herself. How could she have forgotten something so incredibly important!? She hit her head gently with her palm; what a no-brainer. Only she would forget something like that.
Usagi spied the box of batteries on the counter and realized her mother must have spotted it up in her room and put them away while Usagi had slept. That explained that mystery, then.
She leaned back against the counter thoughtfully, holding the cold bottle in her hands. She had some options, and she needed to consider them carefully. She could pretend nothing had ever happened and go along in her life. She could go out and search for him. Or she could wait around for him to see if he'd come back.
The first choice was out of the question. Her curiosity had too strong a hold on her for that, first and foremost. She couldn't bear it if she had to go through her life wondering what might have happened "if." More than that, though, she wanted love. It was something that she'd begun to feel that Mamoru would never be able to give her. The thought of living with the intense craving that was bothering her for the rest of her life was horrifying.
The third choice would not be wise for her. She had little patience, and the more she wanted something to happen, the antsier she'd get. And what if he changed his mind?
No, the only viable option open to her was some course of action.
Usagi opened up the bottle, eyeing and listening to the fizzing of the carbonation before taking a gulp. The cool, bubbling liquid ran down her throat, and her mind was made up.
Action, then. She could go searching for him. The town wasn't very big–true, it was a tourist town, but it had never grown beyond its original small-town confines.
Usagi made her way to the front door. Outside, she could see her family frolicking in the sun again, burying one another in the sand. She smiled at the cute picture they made, of a happy and content family.
She slipped her flip flops on and headed out the door. It slammed behind her, and instinctively her mother's head rose to look at her. Usagi waved to them and called, "I'm going out to town for a while."
Her mother's expression changed, becoming darker and confused. "Where are you going?"
"Just . . . out."
"Why don't you stay with us for a while," her mother suggested kindly. It wasn't an unreasonable request; they should do things together as a family. Now Kenji was also watching them, looking thoughtful.
"Because I . . . I need to get something from the store," Usagi desperately tried to find some kind of excuse to go out without telling them what she was really going to do. She generally didn't like lying, but she had no other choice in this situation.
"Well, how about taking Shingo and ChibiUsa, then," her father suggested, in a way that he must have thought was helpful to her cause. The two rugrats cried cheerfully after hearing that, before racing into the cabin–to get dressed, Usagi presumed.
She opened her mouth to protest this turn of events, but shut it again. If she argued the matter, then they'd press her for real, detailed answers. Besides, they'd been keeping the kids out of her hair since the beginning, and hadn't gotten a moment's peace to themselves. It was her turn to do them a favor–it was the least she could do.
"Alright," she agreed, though begrudgingly. She would still have time to look later, maybe even later that day, if she was lucky. Still her mood had sunk like the Titanic leaving her bereft. She didn't have a whole lot of time, after all. Less that two weeks was all the time she had.
Still, she was being selfish. One afternoon was all they asked, and after all they did for her. They'd even let her sleep in instead of waking her up at the crack of dawn when they did. She scolded herself, and her mood struggled to rise.
The two munchkins exploded back outside, shrieking and galloping and weaving around Usagi's legs. She looked at her mother and father who had eyes only for one another. The dull ache in her chest returned; she recognized that her parents had something that they shared together. Something that she didn't have, but desperately wanted.
She couldn't even begin to describe how much she wanted it, too. The feelings were overwhelming. She had to force herself to swallow her desire and to do what she needed to. "All right," she repeated to no one in particular. "I'll take them out."
Oh, for the world of dreams. Schuldich was sleeping soundly, and he knew it, too. It was a paradise that he could mold and shape, to some extent. After all, he could not change himself, but a mind was still a mind.
He reshaped the velvet darkness, and the light shown a deep red. Burgundy and maroon dancing on black waves. He reveled in this atmosphere normally, but he had run out of patience for it at the moment.
He knew that he needed the sleep–desperately, in fact. He had drunk enough to give three frat-boys hangover-induced stupors all day, and he had been in-and-out of night clubs for the past several nights. And during the days, he had been entertaining himself with the help of a few lady friends. The typical life of debauchery for him, up until last night.
He'd exhausted himself in his efforts to "live it up." What else could he do without missions to help pass the time? He certainly hadn't expected to find himself face-to-face with a girl he'd thought to be long dead.
Usagi didn't know about a degraded monster he'd become during the time that she'd been absent from his life. She couldn't possibly begin to guess the things he'd seen and done–she was completely naive, and the dip he'd taken into her mind showed him just how much purity there was for him to spoil . . . ruin . . . destroy. That was what he did, though–he'd killed for money.
But he wanted. He'd murdered in cold blood for less. He'd destroyed peoples' lives for amusement and money. But the desires had only been half-heartedly enacted. This was entirely different.
Lust wasn't the proper label, though. He didn't think a concept so jaded and base ought to be anywhere near his white angel. The chord struck in him was akin in strength, but off in intent. Lust was the drive to find instant gratuity without any consequences. This feeling was worth savoring. The consequences might very well be worth the risk. And his desire would not be satiated by one disgusting one-night stand.
Now, he'd be a liar if he said that his thoughts were the purest ones. Maybe lust was a companion to the other feeling. But if it was, it was a small, unimportant lackey in comparison.
He should have been awake, trying . . . doing . . . He wasn't sure what, but he ought to be out there with her or after her. Not laying there, wasting his time. Instead, he was sleeping helplessly, trying to rejuvenate from his wild life.
Frustrated, he reached out, trying to touch her mind. But he couldn't quite reach her, not while he was asleep. He'd hit a wall that he couldn't pass. He'd lost enough control over his abilities so that he had to remain there, stuck in his own mind. Even if she'd been physically close, as tired as he was, he still wouldn't have been able to reach her.
His exhaustion cornered him. Despite his frustration, it stopped him. The rosy glow faded away. He sank back into the unknowing black abyss, unaware of the world and his dissatisfaction and what he lacked.
Usagi wandered up the street, not nearly as enthusiastic as the kids who were leading the way. They pranced and laughed and shrieked and argued. Although she normally would have mustered up some words of reproval for them, she didn't really feel like acting like a mature, responsible young adult.
The clouds swept away from the sun again, and the shade she'd been walking under disappeared. She squinted her eyes and made a note to herself to buy a pair of sunglasses–a cheap, plastic pair if nothing else, but something to shield her eyes from the glaring Summer sun.
ChibiUsa gave a particularly loud shriek and then tumbled to the ground. The hot concrete scraped her skin, and she watched in momentary silence as blood began to well up from her knee and palm. She began to tear up instantly, ready to begin wailing as loud as she could manage.
Usagi looked up just as the crying began. She quickly hushed the small girl with the promise of ice cream, candy, anything, if she'd just promise not to cry. Shingo looked away, shame faced. He hadn't meant to hurt her, he'd thought that his shove had been light and playful. Perhaps he didn't know his own strength.
Her tears muffled, ChibiUsa wiped at her face hastily and sniffled. She felt vulnerable and angry, so she lashed out the only way she knew how. "When we get back I'm going to tell Mamo-chan on you," she exclaimed.
Usagi looked at her, puzzled. "Tell him what?"
ChibiUsa jutted out her lower lip, scrunched her eyebrows, and made the nastiest face she knew how. "I'll tell him that you shoved me down, and he won't love you anymore!" The accusation was untrue, and they both knew it, but ChibiUsa was upset.
This was the woman who was supposed to be her mother in the future. But she didn't act at all like her–she had none of the grace or the patience that Neo Queen Serenity had and represented. And she was Mamoru's significant other. Why should she have that honor? She didn't love him, or at least she thought so–and if she did, why, then she didn't love him enough.
Usagi stood up again, no longer crouching. She looked pensive, as though she were mulling some problem over in her head. She nodded in acceptance finally. "Alright, if you want to," she replied, seemingly left untroubled by ChibiUsa's threat.
That both confused and frightened her. Why had her mother not risen to the bait? She always did, always, no matter how silly or stupid it was. Mamoru meant everything to her. Didn't he?
ChibiUsa was horrified by the doubtful thoughts that pranced around in her head. They cavorted about like demonic creatures, refusing to be pushed out of her head despite her refusal to believe it. She'd investigate it, then. She'd see if Usagi had someone else more important to her.
She swallowed the rest of her complaints and followed her "cousin" complacently, if not sullenly. Shingo had also calmed down considerably, although he began to beg to go into shops and to look at the street vendors' merchandise as they walked by.
Usagi tolerated this moderately well. She had expected them to do at least a little window shopping, and maybe to ask for lunch or a treat, so she'd brought her wallet with her. Her parents hadn't hesitated to give her some funds for the kids as well.
The tropical colors were everywhere–on shirts, shorts, skirts, bathing suits, towels . . . She could not have escaped the bright, Summery colors if she'd tried her hardest. The vendors sold much of the same things as the stores, although at marginally smaller prices. Every once and a while Usagi might see what looked to be a true bargain, but none of them were inexpensive, really.
Usagi's eye caught on a small piece of cloth at one of the tables. It was a bright, sunny yellow, somewhere caught between dandelion gold and canary yellow. Her hand reached out, almost of its own accord, and she gently touched her fingers to it. There was something special about it. Maybe not this piece of cloth exactly, but . . .
Usagi close her eyes and tried her hardest to remember. What had it been? She had given someone a gift. A handkerchief? But why would she give anyone something so silly? It was just a relatively small piece of cloth.
As though a lock that had sealed a single door had broken away, Usagi realized with a jolt just what it had been. The present hadn't been a handkerchief. It had been a bandana–for Schu, no less. It had been the same exactly color, and that was why she'd made the connection. He'd used it for his hair, to keep his long, fiery tresses out of his face.
Usagi carefully picked up the piece of folding cloth up, as though she were holding something physically fragile or precious to her. It might have been silly, but she had to get it. It was a compulsion, and it ran deeply. She'd keep the yellow bandana, maybe cut it up into two ties for her to wear in her hair.
She picked up a pair of sunglasses off of the table, not really bothering to see if they looked nice or if they were shoddy and made of thick plastic. She didn't care; she'd found an unexpected treasure. "Did you find anything you wanted," she asked the two kids who were stilly moseying about under the watchful eye of the ever-wary vendor. As though either child would be so extraordinarily tempted to steal his wares, she thought distractedly.
"I want this," Shingo proclaimed, holding up a small silver harmonica. Usagi nodded both acceptance and approval, and Shingo grinned like he'd won the lottery. He handed the item over to her so that she could pay for it and then stepped back.
ChibiUsa took a little longer, but finally settled on a giant conch shell. Usagi decided not to mention the fact that it might have been possible for the girl to find one of her own. She didn't really want to cause any problems at this point in time.
Usagi dug out her wallet and then paid for their purchases dutifully. She then redistributed the items to their proper owner, leaving her own items in the plastic bag she'd been given to hold them. Almost instantly, Shingo began begging for the promised ice cream, and ChibiUsa joined him shortly after.
Usagi recognized her defeat. She could almost feel her wallet diminishing in size, but she submitted. She had, after all, promised them. And it would help to pass a long, long afternoon.
She reached in and stroked her fingers across the soft material inside. It was worth, it she decided. And he could wait a few hours for her. He'd have to.
He woke up to the setting sun's bronze and red rays hitting the wall and his bed sheets. He blinked and then sat up swiftly–and instantly regretted it. He fell back with a small groan, and pressed his hands to his head which was still swimming. It was bound to be the combination of a lingering hangover and the sudden rush of blood to his head.
This time he slowly moved out of his bed and staggered to the bathroom, leaning against the wall. A cold shower and a cup of coffee would make him feel better, even if it was all only in his head.
He striped himself of his clothes, a sight known by many, many women to be a wonderful, scrumptious view. He'd known, and it was pleasing–women who had no idea he could hear their thoughts projected everything that they thought quite loudly, even if it was opposite of how they wanted to appear. It made pleasing them an easy conquest.
The sound of the water hitting the cold tile floor was enough to make his head pound just a little harder. Maybe some painkillers were in order as well. It was unlikely that they'd hurt him, seeing that he'd already abused his body thoroughly in more ways than he even desired to number.
Washed and feeling a little better, Schuldich turned off the stream of water and wrapped a towel around his waist. Nudity didn't bother him in the least, but after showering, he was extraordinarily cold. He toweled himself off and dressed himself. An onyx black t-shirt and white pants, along with his traditional faded-yellow bandana and ever faithful sunglasses.
What now? He'd slept the entire day away. It would take days to get himself on the same schedule as she was. He wasn't clairvoyant like Brad, but he didn't feel like he had that much time.
The sun had become just a small, smoldering crescent blazing against the distant horizon. The water was dark, now, a shade of violet-blue deeper even than the sky. Only the crests of the tallest waves shone with the reflection of the moon and artificial life.
He grabbed his cigarette pack and lighter from his night stand and took one slim cigarette out. He thumbed his lighter until the clicker lighted. The end lit easily enough, and he took the first drag of the cigarette. The first drag was the best; that first rush of nicotine was beautiful.
She hadn't been able to come after him in the day. He couldn't have hoped for that, even though he had in a way. So he'd just have to give her an opportunity to come after him if it was what she really wanted.
He tapped the cigarette against the ashtray and watched the gray-white, ashy-fine specks drift down leisurely. He'd give her an invitation, show her where he was. He wouldn't lead her, wouldn't force her. She'd come for it, he was sure. The possibility that she wouldn't didn't even occur to him.
Usagi ate complacently and silently at the table. It was not uncomfortable or hard for her to hide, though. The two younger children were rattling off about their entire day a mile a minute, which was just fine with her. She was enamored with eating, anyhow.
Usagi put down her fork and wiped her mouth off with her napkin. She was satisfied now, and feeling a little sleepy. That was not an uncommon reaction for her to feel after eating, though.
Usagi closed her eyes and just listened to the happy noises her family made. She loved them, but in some ways, she no longer felt that she was a part of them. After becoming a senshi, she had drifted away from them, although they might never have known it.
Before the situation, she and her mother had been extraordinarily close, despite Usagi's utter lack of abilities in the areas where her mother was strong. Now Usagi told her mother lies with a straight face on a regular basis. And her brother, with whom she always fought, had always had some traits close to her. They both enjoyed video games, although he was better at it than she was. Now, though, it seemed that ChibiUsa had taken her place amongst them.
It was just as well, she supposed. People grew apart; that was what children did. They grew up and left the nest in search of their own fortune and life and happiness. But looking at her future daughter, and seeing the role that had once been hers filled up made her feel incredibly sad.
Or at least, it once had. Usagi reached into her left jean pocket and gently stroked the soft, yellow material that lay within. She had at least one thing that no one else could take away from her, real or not. And Usagi felt with all her heart that he had to have been real.
"By the way, Usagi," her mother said suddenly, addressing her. Usagi's eyes opened automatically and she looked towards her mother, making direct eye-contact with her. "Last night you must have forgotten to close the shutters to your window, because they were open this morning."
Usagi stared at her, disbelieving. "You're kidding me. I know I closed them last night–I remember checking to make sure they were locked shut!" Come to think of it, though, the shutters had been open when she'd woken up. The curtains had been drawn closed, but the shutters . . .
Ikuko frowned thoughtfully. "Did you open the shutters, then, ChibiUsa," she queried, looking concerned. The little girl just frowned and shook her head no.
Usagi frowned, wondering. She knew that they had had a visitor that night–well, Usagi doubted that Schu had come to see anyone else–but she had not been able to figure out how he got in. If she'd forgotten to lock up the windows, though, that might have explained it. But she had been positive . . .
"I'll make sure to double check tonight," Usagi promised her mother, still fingering her handkerchief lovingly and thoughtfully. Her mother nodded in approval, and this time her father spoke up.
"That's good, because according to the newspaper, it's supposed to rain hard tonight." And so their mundane discussion over dinner continued, and Usagi sat in content but perplexed silence. She had lost her family in some way she could not understand, but perhaps she was gaining someone much more important . . .
Crawford drove the car in complete silence. The night had fallen, and the traffic around them was incredibly light. They were, after all, in the middle of nowhere at the moment. Crawford took a sip of his coffee, not tearing his eyes from the road.
Nagi shifted in the back, obviously bored. They'd been driving for a long time now; he didn't even know where they were going. All he knew was that Crawford had had a vision, and it had something to do with Schuldich.
He'd amused himself for the first couple of hours with a book he'd packed and a his discman. But the batteries had run out, Crawford refused to turn the radio on–their choices in music were drastically different-, and the sun's last rays had died away to leave him in the dark.
He'd stopped trying to play with random objects a long time ago. Now he just stared out the car window in a lack-luster fashion, staring off into space. He longed to stretch his cramped muscles. "Just what's the big emergency," he asked again, for the umpteenth time.
Crawford pinched the bridge of his nose, pushed his glasses up (and the promptly ran back down, and ran his hand through his hair. He glared at his hair; Schuldich had told him shortly before he'd run off and left Nagi for him to take of that he had gray hairs growing in. If it was true, it was all the German's fault.
"Schuldich is about to make a huge mistake. We have to stop him," was all he said. It was all that he had said since about five in the morning since he'd roused Nagi from bed and forced the dazed and confused boy into the car with a small suitcase of belongings. It was all that he was at liberty to say; he could not explain the situation yet.
He could hardly bear to believe it himself.
Nagi sighed in a combination of exasperation and boredom before rolling over on his side and trying to adjust himself for a nap. It was hard, though, what with the seatbelt cutting into his side. Not for the first time, he cursed the German for his existence in general.
Usagi turned in her bed, restlessly. She couldn't sleep. In fact, she'd been laying awake, playing the games in her head that she did when she was trying to force herself into dream land. Counting sheep, making up a story, recounting the day's events, and forcing her breathing to become deep and slow.
It wasn't working, though. Not in the slightest.
Usagi kicked the covers off, and huffed angrily. She was kind of warm–maybe that was the problem. Who knew, though. This was definitely the worst case of insomnia she'd had in a long time, though. Maybe ever.
A walk, she thought suddenly, with incredible clarity, as though the idea had been rushing up from the jumble of her thoughts to clear the surface. She could take a walk down the beach. Sure, it was the middle of night, but that was bound to calm her down. Surely the night time scenery and the cold night air would help.
She slid out of bed carefully and looked around her. Hey eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness of the room, and could make out the vague shapes in the room. Her clothes heaped on the floor, Chibi Usa sleeping peacefully nearby, the lamp . . .
Usagi padded across the floor and grabbed a pair of shorts. She paused, hesitating, and then grabbed her brooch. She'd rather she had it for safety issues just in case. A sailor moon kick could handle any dangers that might threaten any normal teenager.
Somewhat dressed, Usagi tiptoed down the stairs and winced as several floorboards creaked. That certainly hadn't been in the description when they'd been reading about the little cabins up for rent. Nothing seemed stir downstairs that she could tell, though.
Shingo had fallen asleep with the tv on and was sprawled out on the couch. It would have been comical and excellent blackmail, but she was itching to get outside. Perhaps another time.
Usagi made her way down the hallway carefully, making sure that her feet did not sound too loud as they hit the wooden paneled floor. She hesitated as she passed by the doorway that would lead to her parents' room. It was likely that they wouldn't approve of something like this, and Usagi could understand why. It was not rational, but Usagi knew instinctively that if she just took this walk... she'd feel better.
She put on her flip flops and carefully unlocked and then re-locked the door behind her. Usagi could get back in through the window to her room with ChibiUsa. She'd done it enough times as Sailor Moon to have a good idea of how to perform such a feat and quickly, even for such an ungraceful klutz as she was.
Usagi closed the screen door behind it, as well. Usagi wasn't sure why the people had bothered to install both doors. Maybe they thought that a heavy wooden door would be more appropriate for night time, and during the day a screen door would be more convenient for parents watching their children play. She wasn't going to waste too much time worrying about it, though.
Once outside, Usagi instantly felt a little better. The warm night air felt good to her, and the occasional cool breeze made it perfection. The moon glowed brightly in the velvet dark sky, and the stars twinkled with it in harmony.
Instead of feeling peaceful, like she'd expected, though, she felt energized. It was as though she'd found a sudden and unexpected second wind. Usagi stretched her muscles and then began to meander down the beach, promising herself that she wouldn't go too far. She'd stop and turn around before she lost sight of the house.
Once going, though, she felt incredibly good. Good wasn't even the right word for the sensation. Usagi wasn't exactly graceful or athletic. She managed to keep afloat in P.E. just like she did in all of her other classes--just barely. Moving right now simply felt... right, as though her body was now in tune with itself and nature. She had a glimpse of what it was like to be an athlete, maybe–to be in harmony with your body, motion, and the world around you all at once . . .
Before she knew it she had gone a fair distance away. The house had shrunk back to a much smaller size, although she had not encountered the sea wall yet. The sea wall was hardly more than a mile away from their cozy cabin, but already Usagi had passed by several other empty cabins in her walk.
She slowed down and crept close to the dark water that lapped gently against the sandy beach. It darted up to catch her heels, and instantly she leapt away, giggling at her new game. Never mind that it was foolish, and she was out playing a game by herself in the dead of night; she was enjoying herself.
The sea sucked one of her flip flops off, and Usagi shrieked a bit, wading in after it. The water swept it along in front of her while she staggered haphazardly, trying to get at it without getting her nightgown all wet. The water rose up and carried the flip flop back to the shore and left it stranded on the wet sand like a beached whale.
Usagi leapt upon it and slipped it back on, grinning despite the general grittiness of the sand against her sensitive feet. The truth of the matter was that she was really ticklish on the bottoms of her feet, and even just the slightest agitation from her sandals was enough to set it off.
Usagi calmed down and surveyed the land around her. It was dark, and a little chilly with the breeze, especially on her wet legs, but otherwise still warm. Clouds were rolling in from the north, though, dark and laden with rain. She needed to head back immediately or to be prepared to face the consequences.
Something caught her eye, though, that she hadn't noticed before–a light, coming from the upstairs window of a cabin. Usagi felt a shudder encompass her entire body, partially out of fear. She knew for a fact that most of the cabins were vacant; they'd passed just by this very same place that morning on their way to town. They were one of the few families here so early on, which was why the trip had been affordable.
Usagi walked towards the house, her morbid curiosity forcing her to face the very same element that was making her heart pound and blood rush. Usagi gulped, noting that her throat was dry. Well, perhaps someone had arrived in the evening–it wasn't impossible.
The wind whipped up behind her again, this time with shocking strength. It was frigid, and Usagi knew from the smell that was accompanied with the blast that it was going to rain without a doubt. Maybe if that person was still awake, they'd give her shelter from the rain and a drink of water. Maybe she could even convince that person to give a poor, foolish highschool girl a ride back to her family.
Idiot, her mind scolded her, taking on a voice akin to Rei's when she was extraordinarily cross with Usagi at the moment. What if it's some kind of hobo? What are you going to do if it's some drug addict or murderer, and you get yourself into more trouble than you can handle?
Strangely, though, Usagi didn't feel afraid. There were no warning bells going off in her head telling her to run away, aside from that unreasonable blast that had come up with those outlandish ideas. Her heart was pounding from excitement, anticipation. She could almost feel the exhilaration that her body and soul were singing about. She didn't understand it, or what was causing it, but she understood that it was special. And whatever it was, she'd been longing for it terribly, wanting it with everything she was.
In fact, Usagi might even have guessed that she'd been wanting it before it had even been presented as an option. The feeling of this moment having been a "long time coming" was not "long" by days or months or even years. Maybe even millennia. Yes, she was willing to believe that. Whatever was here for her was what she'd been after for longer than she could hold account for.
She knew with a sudden certainty that it was Schu. There was not a shadow of a doubt in her mind. Her thoughts raced about her giddily as she climbed the front porch steps. He had shown her where he was–had given her some kind of idea of where to go if she wanted to see him. She had followed her impulses, and they had lead her here...
Usagi tugged on the door, and her enthusiasm faltered. The door was locked. Over head, the light turned off.
Usagi's heart seemed to skip a beat or two, and she watched to see if anything would happen. Nothing did, though, and moments went by in utter, wasted silence. Finally, the flash of lightning and the distant sound of thunder awoke her from her disappointed trace. She shivered, this time out of fear. Above all else, she hated lightning, and here she was on the beach, alone, in the dark, and wet.
Was this some kind of test, she wondered to herself. She didn't know what to think of it. She knew he was still there, though, the feeling of excitement and possibility had not left her. So then why...?
He wanted her to choose, she realized. There had to be a conscious decision for her to seek him out, and he would not accept her any other way. Usagi bit her lip in frustration; did he think she'd give up so easily?
Usagi backed away from the door and looked at the siding of the house. It was no different than the summer cottage her family was lodged in now. She had a good feeling that climbing it wouldn't be much different than climbing up to the window of her bedroom back home.
Usagi steeled her courage and took a giant leap of faith. She began to scale the wall slowly, carefully, trying not to lose her flip flops, which were not made to go up walls with but protected her tender feet from the harsh wood. Usagi winced at the next crash of thunder and lightning; it was much closer this time. The cold wind whipped again, trying to tear at her flimsy night clothing and whipping it against her. The frigid blast stole the warmth right from her bones, and she could feel her fingers cramping up from exertion and the cold.
She heaved her body weight up using her lower body strength; she's long ago learned that using a boy's approach with her arms was useless. Usagi heaved a huge sigh of relief once she reached the window ledge; the curtains were drawn away from it and the shutters were open.
Usagi heaved herself up one last time, struggling to get one leg and then the other over to safety. She allowed herself a few moments to rest, panting heavily while she leaned against the wall for support. After a brief recovery, Usagi looked around the room.
It was dark, and she could only make out the vaguest of shapes in the room. A couch, like their own, and a few other pieces of furniture, including a recliner and coffee table. But no one actually occupied the room.
Usagi felt distraught and let down. Was her imagination running away with her? Was she dreaming again? Would she wake up in her own bed, still feeling as frustrated as she had the day before? The sound of rain hitting the roof top in sheets broke her concentration; she turned around and closed the shutters without thought.
Now she was truly wrapped and sealed in the dark solitude. A deadly sort of silence held the air still and muffled the sounds of even the rain. Disappointment washed through Usagi's body. She must have made a mistake.
Usagi moved carefully through the dark, taking small steps. She worked her way towards where she was certain the light switch must have been. She stopped when the thunder roared and the lightning crackled over head. She whimpered and went down on her knees, and clapped her hands to her ears. It was too late; the sound had been brief but terrible now, and her ears hurt. The storm was so close... how had it developed and moved so quickly?
Usagi stood up again, shakily. She sighed aloud into the air, and continued on her quest for the light switch. She found the plastic panel right where she'd guessed it would be, and flicked the light on. Instantly the room was bathed in dim, yellow light.
The light flickered, making the burning, rattling sound of a bulb ready to go out. Just her luck, to be stranded alone in a house with light bulbs that had every intention of going out on her. Was every force of nature out to get her? Usagi sniffled, the desire to cry heightening.
Usagi turned around and paced back toward the window. She didn't dare look out, though, with the way it was pouring. She didn't really want to get a face full of bitterly cold wind and rain. She gripped the pale, gossamer curtain tightly in her fist; she thoroughly regretted having come here, now.
Do you regret chasing after me, geliebte, a half-mocking, half-wounded voice asked her. (1)
He loved it.
He loved the way his pet name for her sent chills down her spine, they way she recognized it and somehow knew what it meant. He loved the jolt his thought speech sent through her brain. He loved the way a simple sentence could send her mood spiraling out of near-depression into frenzied joy. Most of all, though, he loved the power he had over her.
He couldn't help himself. Years of using people and taking advantage of their weaknesses still had him exploiting them, even when it came to her. It wasn't as though he was trying to be cruel, though. Just... playful.
She had been completely vulnerable from the moment she'd climbed in the window. She'd never even seen him laying on the couch, just watching her. He'd felt the rise and fall of her moods like a roller coaster out of control. And how he'd ached to just pounce on her right then and there!
He'd watched her though, playfully. He couldn't help himself; toying with people came to him automatically. And he wanted to make a powerful entrance. How could he do that? How could he compare with a dream that he could bend to his beck and call? He simply couldn't. So he'd wanted to surprise her.
Well, it looked as though he'd met his goal.
She swung around in both surprise and dismay, looking at him as though he'd just told her some very lewd joke. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were wide, and her mouth gaped in a small "O" shape. How he wanted to put that mouth to good use.
It took a great deal of restraint in order to remain in his spot on the couch, calm and collected looking. He just looked at her, taking her in. Wind blown and half-soaked, she still looked good enough to eat. Her hair hung around her, a typhoon of silk-spun gold glittering in the dim light. A cute figure, though no more than that, encased in silly, damp pjs. She'd taken a small run through the water, had she? Flushed skin, shaking all over.
The night had been rather traumatic for her. He'd kept slinging her emotions up and down. He almost felt bad. Would you like to cuddle a bit, Geliebte, he half-teased her. If that was what she wanted, he'd welcome her to it. He wouldn't mind getting to know her a bit more intimately.
And she had changed. The child that he had once known was almost completely gone. The Usagi he had once known had been scrawny and had looked malnourished. Her pale skin was always hidden underneath dark soot and grime. Though her curves were not ample, they looked healthy–they looked good on her frame.
There were shadows where there had been brightness now. Her mind was much deeper than a normal teenager's would have been. She was incredible anyhow–he'd always thought so, and her capabilities with emotions had convinced him a long time ago that she was bound to be an empath. There were shadows and sorrows that had no place there, though, and secrets he had yet to unlock. In time, she would let him seem them, he was certain, but for now, he'd just have to earn her trust. Those were locks that only she could open.
Not all was different, though. She still wore her hair the same way, looked the same. She was filled with the same life and light as she had been the first time he'd known her. And when he'd pushed her to her breaking point, she'd found the will to go after what she wanted on her own. Beneath the cry-baby exterior and the helpless girl-woman front she put up, there was still that spiny little ragamuffin he'd known with a backbone of iron.
He'd predicted her reaction perfectly. Pink cheeks instantly were stained red. "W-Why are you calling me that," she stammered, trying to think. This wasn't what she'd imagined, and he'd thrown her completely off-guard.
"Geliebte? Why do you think," he replied, answering her question with a question of his own. He sat up and reached for her hand with his own. He gripped it and ran his thumb over her knuckles. "Tch, so cold. Let me warm you up."
It was an offer. She could have turned it down. She blushed further, and diverted her eyes from his–they were laughing inside, far too playful. To both their surprise, though, she walked toward him, to him, until she was standing right in front of him. Her knees wobbled, threatening to let her drop. She was exhausted, if not physically, then emotionally.
The thunder made the light flicker and then go out, casting them once more into darken. She tensed, and her heart beat faster in fear. Since when had she been so afraid of thunder and lightning? Perhaps she'd changed more than he realized. It was no matter. He hadn't appreciated her then, but he'd still loved her. And he'd love her even now, he was more than certain.
He swept his other arm around her, supporting her, enclosing her in his grip. It felt good, right. His chest was tight, but the sensation no longer felt lonely or incomplete. This time, it was a feeling of satisfaction. She leaned closer to him, curling her body up around him, allowing his embrace to protect her.
He murmured, softly into her ears, sinking back into the couch, still holding her, nibbling on her ear. He ran his fingers through her wild, golden, wind-tangled hair, closed his eyes, and inhaled her scent- of rain, of sea-salt, of faint perfume almost faded away with time. "Oh, Usagi, what I'll do to you," he moaned almost helplessly, as the storm around the house continued to rage.
(1) – Okay. I try to avoid adding in lots and lots of German into the story like a lot of people have started doing. I think it's generally a waste of time to do so. Not because the language isn't pretty, but because it slows your story down and by now, if Schuldig hasn't started to speak Japanese, then communication is going to be extraordinarily difficult. And aside from that... it's not like the fic isn't already confused enough language wise. Japanese people speaking English when they have Japanese names? English people and Irish people and German people also speaking Japanese when the fic's written in English? It's enough to give a person a headache.
But I wanted to tie in the fact that Schu *is* German, and Usagi was as well, in her past life. I also wanted to use a special pet name. And people have used plenty of them. Geliebte, however, is not one I've seen used. For those of you who are curious as to what it means... it can mean lover, truelove, or beloved. It can also mean concubine or mistress, which I could see Schu teasingly refer to her as. ^^;;
OtakU : I know I make the occasional mistake. It's hard, because most times it's stuff that spell check doesn't catch. That and I don't do too well with spelling and grammar always.
Felicity Dream : Yeah, it took me a while. It took a lot of thought, and trashed ideas, etc. But I hope that this chapter is satisfying.
LunarPrincess : ^^ Glad you liked it. I hope this next chapter meets your tastes as well.
Shadowsfaith : lol. Well, how about knight-ess instead? But really, such flattery! I'm glad you liked it so much, though. I've enjoyed writing it so far.
Arabella Silverbell : Yes, ma'am! *military style salute*
Liz : Ah, I'm glad! I work really hard to put motive in the characters' actions and to keep them in character. It's not always the easiest thing to do. And, yes, the building is two story–the floor plan was a bit vague in the first chapter, I'll admit. I hope it's been clarified. The second story is really small–like an attic kind of thing. And I took your question about his entrance into consideration in this chapter–I hope that explained it. ^^
And finally... I appreciate your support; that was the effect intended. However, I ended up making a few people uncomfortable, and that was not the effect I'd intended. Offending people is not my aim. PS–Schwartz split up permanently.
*chibi_neko* : There will be a few other characters from WK showing up, Crawford and Nagi specifically. Farf is in an asylum, though, and the WK boys... well they have other things to do. ^^;; They won't be coming into this. Or at least, I hadn't planned it.
MidnightDragonShadow : Well, here's the continuation! More to come in the future, too.
Patricia16 : lol. That could take a little while. But I'm glad you liked it.
Usagi_1313 : Glad you liked it. Thanks for your encouraging emails, too. I appreciate it.
Gackt Camui HATES COCKROACHES : Oh! What name did you review under? And yeah... well, it was about a year ago, so I probably have changed, mostly because I've changed as a person (a LOT has happened between now and then, between ff.net and my life). But I suppose and AP English class might do that to you. ^.~ *glomps back* And thank you very much! Like I've said to other people, I hope that this chapter hasn't let you down.
CrystalBlueSeraph : Thanks; I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Star-siren : Yeah, us rude Americans. ^.~ Well, you know, our cultures are vastly different from even the French, much less than the Japanese. Lol. I have "words-of-the-day" too. Although mine tend to be more ludicrous that "lovely." And again, I'm really happy you enjoyed it.
Ame : Ah, your favorite couple, too? ^^ I have to admit, this couple holds a special place in my heart. ^^;; So I'm prejudiced, too. ^.~
dragon-wing3 : Don't be too upset. And the situation between CT and I has been bridged. So there is no longer an argument going between her and myself. And I'm not offended. I'm sorry if I put you (or anyone else, for that matter) in an unpleasant position.
Serpentine Wisdom : Well thank you! I'm honored you think so. Ah... the Bush administration. Well, unfortunately, having looked through the history books... we (Americans) have always been the busy body kind of sort. I think it really got bad during the Cold War era, and it got a little better for a while... but now we're back to nosing in other people's affairs. *pause* And although there are some things that I find tolerable about the Bush administration, I don't really want to argue politics. ^^;; I find people can get pretty... upset over it. Not that you would, but someone else might. ^^;;; Or *I* might. I'm not always too level-headed. But other than that, I don't pay too much attention to politics. I try to shove my head in the sand–it makes for a happier existence, I've found.