A/N: Here's Arashi-chan with another chapter for Toge… much as she hates to admit it, it's the shortest one, or the second-shortest, but contains several important plot points. It would have been possible to wait until New Years to load, giving you a more satisfactory chapter, but she (Arashi) was mortified at not having updated in so long and so…
Digressing, my utmost thanks to Goddessmoon! Joshin-, Wish-chan, I could never have done this without you /glompage/. Lububblenesses…es. Without further ado, I present chapter four of Togewonuku! Oh, and review, please. /cheesy grin/.
Togewonuku
A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
IV – Kekki
Rising to Action
'I can still hear her screaming.'Rei's hands clenched and unclenched convulsively on the handle of the twig broom; unseeing eyes gazed over the verdant foliage of the cherry trees that lined her home. 'I can still hear her screaming, and yet…
'And yet – even now! – I can think only of how she looked with Mamoru-san.'
Unable to deny her own jealousy, Rei set herself to sweeping the threshold of the Hikawa Jinja with renewed vigour, the twigs making a soft swishing sound as they brushed roughly against weathered stone.
'Listen to yourself, Hino Rei,' she thought furiously, stalking over to the small heap of swept leaves and beating the head of the abused broom so that everything caught in the battered twigs fluttered out and down to join the rest of the assembled rubbish. 'You are making a spectacle of yourself over a boy whose name you cannot attach an endearment to even when thinking it subconsciously'
"If it were anyone but the Odango!" she hissed aloud, startling even herself with the outburst and the accompanying shame. Just as quickly as guilt made itself known, anger kindled to life as she continued her inner monologue, the leaves whipping about her in voiceless mockery of her fury. Why shouldn't she – Rei, the wronged one – be jealous and angry? The young priestess felt her own eyes well up dangerously and blinked furiously to hold back the flood. Crying was Usagi's job, not hers.
'Usagi…'
Usagi, who had been lashed mercilessly by Zoisite, and somehow found fortitude enough to stand and use an attack that had weakened her tormentor enough that the dark general might be destroyed. Usagi, who had stood alone against both youma and Terror and had persevered. Usagi, who Mamoru had made love to –
'Iie.'
A fat tear oozed out despite her best efforts and Rei, too surprised at her own lack of control to even dash it away, felt its swift course down her cheek, watched its brief sparkle in the afternoon sun before it splashed silently onto dusty stone.
Self-pity made its presence known as a crushing pressure in her chest, and Rei thought she might choke. Just how long had it been happening? Had Usagi been laughing inside at Rei every time the miko had crowed over her growing closeness with Mamoru?
'Slut,' she thought furiously, but something, someone inside her own skin and mind and soul responded with a dry, Bitch.
That brought the brunette up short and the soft shuffle of sandaled feet behind her alerted Rei to her grandfather's approaching presence.
"Malevolent anger has no place in this temple," the elderly priest said softly, "unless one wishes to be cleansed of it." An ugly look on her face, Rei opened her mouth to deliver her customary waspish reply — and more than was customary; how dare he reprimand her —
The smaller man's eyes narrowed dangerously. He raised a hand in uncommon authority.
"Quiet."
Stunned into silence, the miko watched her grandfather with wary eyes. "Jealousy and spite run rampant through your entire aura – if you continue to behave so, you will disrupt even the Sacred Fire's pure power."
"I –"
"It has always been unusually fond of you," the old man continued, flipping an ofuda about his hands. His eyes hardened again and he brandished the ward. "Fondness or not, however, I will have to put my foot down this time."
Rei stood to her full height, looming over her grandfather, purplish eyes furious. "You would banish me as if –"
"Do you see now why most priests and priestesses remain celibate?" His sudden interruption destroyed what semblance of her usual hauteur she had managed to rake about herself.
"Nani?" she half-shouted.
"So it is a boy," he murmured, eyeing the defiant expression on her face. "Rei-chan, I have always been lax with your training. You demonstrate such a strong affinity for reading signs in the fire, spiritual banishment and even some faint detection of conflicting energies, that perhaps thinking that your gift would have been enough, I have let you run free with your power. That is perhaps the largest mistake I have ever allowed myself to make."
"Demo –"
"You have no discipline. You scold some, like Usagi-chan, for being unladylike and clumsy, but you are perhaps worse than she. Your chidings are hypocritical, granddaughter – you can meditate, but you never practice tranquillity. You are powerful, but you fling it about as if it were a toy with which to demand prestige. You abuse the Sacred Fire by using it in a blatant disregard for privacy…"
"Sofu…" she whispered, her proud pose bowed in the face of his accusations and perhaps the first true scolding she had ever received from him. 'How does he know?'
"You touched a very powerful aura last night," he informed her. "Immense golden light… such as which is legendary, to be true. It is also unquestionably masculine, which prompts curiosity of what you had decided to pry into. It also brings to mind the signature of a young man I met two days ago to the hour, though his ki was considerably less showy…
"It is not too difficult to connect such coincidences with jealousy and malice."
"Connect…?"
"You returned home furious. You used the Fire to pry into something you had no business in, judging by the person's rejection of you. Even now, you are jealous. I met a stubborn young man two days ago whose aura, if you dismiss the difference in power levels, resembled the one that did not like you far too well. If you add to this the fact that the boy in question was courting a fine young lady who would be quite anguished should she know of the pain she has unwittingly caused you, then I think I have constructed a crude image of what may have occurred." His gaze was steady, though hers faltered before she looked resolutely away. "Correct me if I am wrong, Granddaughter."
The shrine's grounds were unbearably still; every soul and kami in it watched without speaking, permeating their surroundings so that it seemed even the usual vitality of their aura was overwhelmed, becoming more like the echoing stillness of a court, or a tomb.
Silence reigned —
Until it was broken by the violent clatter of a temple broom as it was thrown harshly to the ground, and quiet died in a swirl of red and white and dark, dark hair.
"You're wrong," she said without looking back, and vanished into the shrine.
Obiki Gaisofu didn't turn to watch his granddaughter's retreat, instead inhaling the brisk evening air and thinking of gold and fire and many other things that did not show on his face.
"You are a good liar, Granddaughter," he whispered, and turned to smile at the sun, slanting gracefully so that amber light played across everything the old priest could see, "But falsehoods have a way of allowing themselves to be heard."
'Indulgence in one's hormonal urges,' Chiba Mamoru thought sourly, 'has the worst way of turning around and biting one in the ass.' His face was outwardly calm as he smiled his thanks to Ikuko over another helping of rice, but the brunet was all-too-aware of the calculating stare with which the Tsukino Patriarch had fixed the side of his head.
The seventeen-year-old took a sip of his water, weathered a probing inquiry from young Shingo, who was almost as suspicious of the interloper at his family's table as his father, and smiled tenderly at the way his lover would check herself every few moments before forcing herself to eat with a little less enthusiasm. Whether it was due to his presence at the table or a desire to show her parents that the boy she had been caught kissing on her doorstep was not a completely bad influence, Mamoru could not help but find her strange hesitance charming.
"Eighteen in August," he answered Ikuko's enthusiastic inquiries, trying not to notice the way Usagi's father seemed to be more interested in doing some unnecessary damage to his dinner (the ornate chopsticks held in a white-knuckled grip) than eating it.
"I thought you were older," the indigo-haired matriarch replied fondly. "You are so very well-spoken." Everybody ignored the quiet, strangled noise Kenji made in response to his wife's compliment, though Usagi gave her father a reproachful look. Mamoru had a faint impression of outrage from where the eldest Tsukino sat at the opposite end of the table, and tried not imagine how even one well-manoeuvred chopstick could quite easily gouge out his eyes. In spite of feeling an increasing desire to return home with all haste and bury himself under his bedcovers, Mamoru managed to retain his mild expression and politeness, even going so far to ask Kenji to pass the teriyaki sauce.
However, his famous composure decided to desert him when he felt the distinct sensation of now-familiar fingers playing with the hem of his shirt – the brunet tried not to choke in alarm and arousal as Usagi's wayward hand slipped under worn cotton and caressed the taut skin of his stomach for several eternities before withdrawing. He chanced a quick glance at her to find his lover looking supremely composed – save, of course, the blush spreading from the tips of her ears to the back of her neck.
"Mamoru-san?" Ikuko asked, her guest's subtle flush of embarrassment succeeding his sudden silence. Her expression was far too knowing for his comfort, and he tried not to squirm. Dark eyes danced wickedly as Usagi's mother inquired, "Daijoubu desu ka?"
"H-hai," he responded, cursing the way his voice cracked – the knowing light became a glow of certainty, and he looked away from Ikuko's laughing expression to stare determinedly at the soy sauce, keenly aware of the indigo-haired woman's meaningful glance toward her daughter.
And Kenji was still staring at him.
Leaving the house with much screaming and panic seemed to Mamoru perhaps the worst possible way to react (or endear himself to his lover's father), although he had heard tales from his best friend of similarly-cursed males and their own reactions. Mamoru's laughing response at the time had been that 'with the Odango's penchant for braining innocent passers-by with various papers and shoes, one could only have expected at least one of her role-models in life to be as violent'. Now, faced with the terrible tragedy of reality, the upperclassman silently reconsidered every deriding word he had ever spoken in reference to the poor souls – Tsukino Kenji was truly a nightmare that only the most nervous and insecure of boyfriends and potential-boyfriends could ever comprehend.
Not that Mamoru was insecure or nervous, of course; at least, he was not foolish enough to exhibit it. Such things only encouraged what should not be encouraged, namely the aforementioned father's desire to see an already unwanted boyfriend gone.
Observing that the elder man's plate had stayed all but untouched, Mamoru felt that he should at least ensure the lion would not be too vicious from hunger before its potential victim offered itself up on a silver platter. "Tsukino-san," Mamoru murmured, his words almost hitching as Usagi took his hand under the table. His next sentence came out as almost a croak. Perhaps understanding at last the dangerous effect she and her soft touches had on Mamoru's concentration and train of thought, Usagi removed her hand with unneeded haste, though he thought he could detect amusement beneath her chagrin. "If I may have a word with you, Tsukino-san?" Mamoru repeated the honorific a little more clearly, pleased that his voice did not repeat its brief and glorious frog-imitation.
All four Tsukinos shot Mamoru looks of varying levels of disbelief implying that all present thought the eloquently-spoken high-schooler less sane than one would initially believe.
Their reactions were hardly of any help in calming the inwardly-panicked brunet – indeed, their effect on him was quite the opposite, and for a moment his calm mien faltered and his Adam's apple bobbed twice, he swallowing nervously before speaking again: "Ah… privately?"
'Idiot! Don't listen to me, Tsukino-san…!'
It was shortly proved that the addressed was not telepathic or psychic in any way; he paused to consider and then nodded curtly, standing and striding into the kitchen.
Mamoru swore he could see the words on his epitaph.
'Here lies Chiba Mamoru,' he thought, following obediently after Kenji and feeling his stomach writhe as it was suddenly beset by a colony of amorous worms,'an Idiot of the First Order who perished in the foolhardy quest to brave one Tsukino Kenji's wrath alone and un-championed. Let his last words and actions in the public eye – a request to speak privately with the overprotective father of his underage lover – be an example to all hormonal young men who yet live in blissful ignorance of this tragedy.'
The kitchen door swung shut, and its ingratiating creak was abominably loud in the sudden quiet cloaking the house. Shingo excused himself, looking as if he would very much like to stay and see what would happen, but leaving all the same.
Hearing the sudden, soft murmurs of voices, Ikuko and Usagi exchanged glances and waited impatiently until the front door closed behind the youngest Tsukino male before darting over press their ears against the kitchen door.
"…is too young," Kenji could be heard saying. Both his wife and his daughter could hear the scowl in his voice, and both could not help but smile at his predictability, though their amusement only deepened at Mamoru's reply.
"Tsukino-san, the purpose of my accepting your daughter's kind invitation to dinner was not to play the obsequious suitor. She has requested that I tutor her in several areas (Geometry, Trigonometry and English grammar being three such subjects) and I consented under the condition that her guardians approved."
"I don't doubt your capabilities in that area, judging from the conversation at dinner, but what of the location of these lessons? It is hardly decent for a young girl and one such as yourself to…" the older man's meaningful pause had the two eavesdropping Tsukinos rolling their eyes in unison.
"We will not be alone," Mamoru replied evenly, "because I had your house – perhaps a study area or even this very table? – as the location in mind. As Tsukino-san is, from what your daughter tells me, often about the house, then Usagi-chan and I will be properly chaperoned at all times."
"He would make a fine diplomat," a voice whispered from somewhere next to Usagi's and Ikuko's ankles, and after greeting Luna with appreciative giggles, all three quieted to hear Kenji's reply.
"Demo… I will only consent to this arrangement if I have your absolute word that you will refrain from any inappropriate behaviour under this roof."
"Chiba-san," Ikuko muttered, ignoring her daughter's hissed plea for quiet. "Surely you are not going to succumb to my pig-headed husband's brutish, hypocritical demands?"
"Mama!"
"Tsukino-san," the listeners thought they could detect the faintest trace of ironic humour in Mamoru's resigned tone, "I swear that I will not touch your daughter –" ("He's got some nerve," Usagi muttered furiously under her breath) "– or compromise her virtue while I am her tutor," the upperclassman finished.
Both Ikuko and Luna looked down and up, respectively, at the younger Tsukino, who was frowning at the closed door. Her displeasure with her lover was quite evident in the set of her jaw and the glint in her eye, but her companions remained silent, deciding there and then that discretion was the better part of valour.
Hearing footsteps, the eavesdroppers backed away hastily, Usagi beginning to gather up the chopsticks and sauces while Ikuko cleared the plates. As Luna was not distracted by the stacking of china, she saw very clearly the exasperated glare Usagi shot Mamoru as he returned. Her oblivious lover merely asked her if she needed assistance with the cutlery, and seemed taken aback when her reply contained a subtle undertone of curtness. Luna shook her head in amusement and made her way to the living room to curl up on an armchair. Perhaps she should tell Usagi to go easy on the boy.
If anyone were present, they would have sworn that the small feline had grinned.
'Let her be playful. After all, there is only so much she can do.'
'Indulgence in the furious demands of an overprotective father to stay away from his daughter,' Chiba Mamoru thought savagely, 'has the most frustrating manner of coming around and kicking your ass until it is black and blue and sprouting bright red flowers.'
The brunet shifted and tapped his companion's nose to get her attention again. "Usako," he murmured, all-too-aware of his lover's mother's presence not ten meters away. "If you are given the lengths of three sides of a triangle, what formula would you use to determine an unknown angle? The other two angles are also unknown."
Usagi took a moment to digest this, chewing absently on the end of the pen in her hand. Mamoru fidgeted again as he watched her lips purse thoughtfully, and had to be prodded back into reality. "Nani?"
"I said," she repeated patiently, "'is the triangle a right triangle?'"
He smiled at her. "It isn't."
"Cosine law, then," she proclaimed. With an approving hum, Mamoru intercepted the ballpoint before it could make its way back into the blonde's mouth again. "Mamo-chan!"
"Tradition dictates that one will use an erasable medium in the working of sums," he intoned, quoting his math professor and adjusting imaginary spectacles. She stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Rolling her eyes to indicate the lack of impression his pompous words had upon her, Usagi picked up his mechanical pencil and, undeterred by the eraser at the end of it, stuck it in her mouth and began to chew that instead.
Mamoru stared, fixated.
"That's disgusting, you know," he heard himself say absently even as he dragged a spare textbook over and plopped it on his lap.
Funnily enough, Usagi found his squirming amusing, and the text on English grammar's new location seemed to have her holding back a laugh. Mamoru felt the stirring in his trousers again and resisted the urge to hiss at it.
"Name the formula for Sine Law," the older boy said abruptly, putting his face in his hands in a gesture of false weariness in order to hide his blush.
"We already did that one, Mamo-chan."
Mamoru swallowed. "I just want to make sure…"
Usagi's reproachful look was followed by an obedient "angle a over side a equals angle b over side b equals angle c –"
Her recitation was interrupted by a muted beeping. Mamoru blinked as she fumbled in her pockets for the pink pager, and he frowned, something stirring in his memory. "Usa –"
She smiled tightly at him, and he reached for her hand, sudden concern welling up. She allowed him to take it, and squeezed briefly his callused fingers in affection before shrugging them away. "Sorry, Rei must want something," she murmured. "I better answer it." Usagi didn't wait for an answer before leaving abruptly, Mamoru's shrewd gaze boring into her back.
"Where is it this time?" she hissed, already reaching for her brooch as Rei appeared on the small screen. "You have no idea how much trouble you could have gotten me into!"
"I have an idea," the miko said, burgundy eyes uncommonly intense as she stared up at Usagi's disgruntled expression. "The youma's two blocks down from the Crown Arcade; I'm still at the temple, so I'll take longer to get there."
"Two blocks down in which direction?" Usagi asked, slipping upstairs into her room. Her heart clenched as she thought of what Mamoru would think.
"Just follow the screaming," the miko said curtly, and the screen went blank.
"What's her problem?" the blonde murmured, and knelt to pet a slumbering Luna. "Luna, there's an attack near the Crown Arcade –"
"I heard," the feline said drowsily, but her next words sounded far more awake. "And Mamoru-san?"
"Still waiting for me," Usagi said, and it was impossible to miss the subdued slump of her shoulders before she raised the golden brooch, her mouth forming her henshin phrase.
A floor below her, Mamoru's eyes snapped shut and he fell to his knees, desperation suffusing his movements as he clawed at his chest. The link tugged and hauled on his heartstrings, surging and falling in a rhythm he vaguely recognised as a frenzied heartbeat.
Something wanted out – something wanted to get out and…
'No!' What if she came back and found he was gone? He would not allow it!
And as suddenly as it came, the need released him. It was not gone, no, but it was more benevolent than violent, now. How such a desperate emotion like need could be benevolent escaped the youth, but he closed his eyes, and hoped that the Gods who had forged the much-unwanted link would not condemn him for his inaction.
Several blocks away, Sailormoon bounded across the rooftops, a small black cat in her arms.
A/N: Yes, I will explain later why Tuxedo Kamen could resist Sailormoon's pain and the summons/henshin in chapter two and not in this one. It all comes down to growth, really… but it'll be covered later.
For now, though... I've noticed that Toge's getting less and less readers. Chapter one has had more reviews than the other chapters combined... surely you'd oblige us this time... /wheedles/. Please?
Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!