Summary: 'You are everywhere my gaze lies...'. 'You're the key keeping everything in tune...' AU 1st season. Usagi x Mamoru. Mushy, but –according to my beta- 'a kind of elegant mushiness' . Dare to try it?
By Daylight and Moonlight.
by elianthos
Intro Note: the story takes place before the Ginzuishou (Silver Crystal) is found. Minako has already joined the senshi group, as in the anime. Usagi and Mamoru are partly fandom-based (they are already lovers but don't know their mutual secret identities. She is about 14, while he's about 18), partly manga-based (she is more mature and he's WAY more romantic. And they secretly meet in the city park. But in my version Luna doesn't chaperone her, nor does she know about them).
Dedicated to all the talented SM writers on the net, and particularly to the ones who first reawakened my enthusiasm for this series and inspired me to – literally- dream this story a pair of months ago: Alicia Blade, Antigone2, ArashinobaraJikkankakyoukou, Blue Jeans, Chibi Cori, cristina1, Draegyn, EightofSwords, Evil Authoress Inc., Experimental, Jennifer Wand, Juillet Mercredi, Kihin Ranno, Lilac Summers, Melete, Merry Faerie, Pandora Diane MacMillan, Quicksilver, Sailor Bray, Sailor Jes, Serenity-hime, sexylyon, Spirit-hime, Stormlight, S.Wright, Tim Nolan, VO1, whimsical nymph.
Last but not least, to Queen, who beta-read this and helped me improving this 'baby' and turning it into something more readable although she was –and still is- very busy and living on the other side of the world. To her goes all my gratitude for being a great writer and best e-mail friend.
Arigatou, my Alatariel.
Usual disclaimers.
Oh, and italics words are for thoughts. In case of longer paragraphs, I marked the name of characters' POVs in bold letters.
Now, FINALLY, on with the fic!
By Daylight and Moonlight.
Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace
To look through and behind this mask of me
(Against which years have beat thus blanchingly
With their rains) and behold my souls' true face,
The dim and weary whiteness of life's race, -
Because thou hast the faith and love to see,
Through that same souls' distracting lethargy,
The patient angel waiting for a place
In the new Heavens, - because nor sin nor woe,
Nor God's infliction, nor death's neighborhood,
Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed, -
Nothing repels thee, ...Dearest, teach me so
To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
--- Elizabeth Barret Browning, 'Sonnets from the Portuguese', XXXIX. ---
1. By Daylight.
He could sense her gaze from the Arcade door- glass like invisible fingers on his skin, sending a warm shiver down his spine.
She was challenging him, testing him, renewing this game only the two of them knew. Small talk, even insults, to disguise a secret code of unspoken truth, of an intimate bond.
He walked in and left his eyes wander nonchalantly, purposely avoiding her face.
Without lifting her head from her milkshake, she looked at him: the arch of his body when he stretched a little, the dance of his fingers slackening his school tie and revealing the small cavity at the base of his throat.
When his finger casually brushed the nape of his neck, on the scratch left by her nails the evening before, his lips quirked upwards in response to her smile - seemingly, to Motoki greeting him on her left .
Then he strode his way to the counter, while she picked up her things to leave her stool.
She could turn her head finally, then she stood nearly in his way.
Her gaze rose to his. Look at me. Please - at least today - look at me. She started moving too.
One step, two, three. He's still looking aside.
Her pulse quickens, her breath suddenly more laboured.
Four.
The slight brush of his left arms on hers, the casual stretching of his index finger to linger on her long strands.
The tension and relief flowing in both of them at the contact.
Five-
Her knees suddenly weak, she only half-pretendingly stumbled, grasping his arm on reflex.
He caught her in a single smooth movement, both his arms steadying her now. "Always eager to get in my way, Odango Atama?".
His voice sounded mocking, but his breath was so pleasantly hot and caressing on her temples.
She disguised her excited blush and quivering voice under a burst of rage: "Never! And for the millionth time, DON'T CALL ME THAT!"
He has kept holding her, allowing her for a too short-lasting moment to squeeze his elbow and dig her nails in the thin fabric of his jacket.
"Sure, princess klutzy."
He could see her blue depths sparkling with hidden amusement . "You're unreal!"
Then he let her go, and she exited the Arcade.
She's going right. To the park.
He forced himself to the counter, getting ready to face Motoki's usual remarks. He was not staying there for long, anyway.
She would be paying him back for his comments just now.
He was sitting on his favourite park bench, in a quiet, private corner, enjoying the lingering warmth of day.
A late afternoon sun behind him cast longer shadows, inflaming the already rich orange hue of the shimmering pond waters before him
Another shadow now behind him brought even more light and warmth to him. He clutched his book in anticipation.
A pair of slender arms circling him from behind, a kiss on the corner of his eyebrow,
A sweet voice vibrating in his hear and soul: "My prince."
"You're in my way again, princess."
"Always." She moves to sit in his lap, taking the book from his hands. "What are you reading here?"
"Poetry. Emily Dickinson. She was an American –"
"Mamo-chan, I know who she is!"
She pouted, then added with a little of pride: "Contrary to common belief, I'm not that ignorant. Actually, I've already read this same book." To his benefit, she tapped at the cover for emphasis; he liked her fingers tapping.
When he looked inquisitively at her about the 'same book', she playfully smacked his palm
(he liked this too) with it. "While waiting for you in your apartment I had a lot of time..." she dissipated his pang of guilt for being late so often from work by winking at him "...so I checked for something to read beside Trig and Bio textbooks".
"You had no manga with you?" He looked at her with feigned surprise and horror.
She mock-glared at him for a second before joining him chuckling: both knew she had interests wider and tastes better than people realized.
Besides, Mamoru has been teaching her to appreciate poetry, classic and prog rock music, while she had introduced him to the pleasure of enjoying... life. And karaoke contests (she owed Minako these last ones).
Even if Mamoru thought he got the better part, Usagi seemed to consider this as a fair trade. She had been growing up and maturing, and she relieved in their mutual acknowledge of this.
He was the only one treating her as an equal instead of a universally known and cliché "carefree, dumb blonde"; though he showed it only when the two of them are alone – but she stopped herself from following this chain of thought and the secrecy and self-guilt implied.
Their time together was too little and too precious.
She was startled when his arms squeezed her in reassurance, as if he had been reading her mind "We'll work it out, Usako."
His hands and arms so warm.
He will always be there for me. To catch me if I fall. Literally, she mused
Cheek to cheek, they began to read aloud together for a while, their fingers partially intertwining on the book cover.
"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because –
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer – Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
He nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. She squirmed a little, but her voice was still clear.
Because He knows – and
Do not You –
And We know not –
Enough fot Us
The Wisdom it be so –
The Lightning – never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut – when He was by –
Because he knows it cannot speak - .
And reasons not contained –
- Of Talk -
There be – preferred by Daintier Folk –
The Sunrise – Sir – compelleth Me –
Her irises met his, then she resumed reading.
Because He's Sunrise – and I see –
Therefore – ... Then –
He was kissing her neck now, calling her pulse from her tongue to pound under his lips. Her voice faltering, she tilted her head backwards.
I love Thee –
He murmured the last line on her throat, almost as if pouring the words straight into her veins, for her own blood to carry his voice resonating everywhere within her.
She simmered at the echo, then she moved in his lap to rest more comfortably with her head in the space between his neck and shoulder.
An almost inaudible sigh few minutes later – too few - told him their daily time was over.
She disentangled her form from their embrace, every line of her forearm, wrists, palms, fingers slowly sliding away.
Her fingertips curled over his. She squinted her eyes, sorrow tightening her lips for a second, but her mouth twisted upwards soon after. "I've to go." He released her, his fingers straightening too.
She stepped backwards, hair swaying in the light breeze, eyes locked with his. His body twisted on the bench, not to lose for a second the sight of her, till her form started melting in the sun behind her: gold on gold, light on light.
Now, he too was squinting his eyes, fighting back the surging lump in his throat.
She gave him an understanding smile at the gesture and raised her hand to wave goodbye, but halfway she brought it to her lips to send him a kiss from afar.
He mouthed goodbye to her, his voice still missing.
She finally turned her back to him and ran away.
He kept staring, entranced, until the last ray of light was gone with her to merge into evening colours.
Then in twilight he walked home.
AN: Next and last chapter will be up on Tuesday at worst. (Yes, it's longer. And the Ans are much shorter. Rejoice!)
About Usagi being so engrossed with Emily's poetry, my beta rightly pinpointed that 'a surprise burst of culture from Usagi would be within the realm of the possible by Stars season and would be fun…at the end of the First season…I don't know. She IS pretty immature at that point, and I don't think very many 3rd year Junior High students are into Dickinson.'
Being me one of those few weird students at the time and now a stubborn weird author, I've left her this way nonetheless. So... you can flame me .