Little Moments: 100 Themes
#13: Future
Lillie Bell

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon, not owned by me, is. Oro. (obviously not Kenshin either!)

This is my longest one so far and it's filled with WAFFy happiness. Consider yourself warned!

Mamoru sat at the stairs leading into the streets from the large chapel at the center of Crystal Tokyo. He sighed, feeling oddly happy and sad all at once. The gray tuxedo itched him greatly and his body begged for his black one, but today he was not the one on display. No, today was his daughter's day to shine. It was the day for her and her love, now husband.

Husband sounded odd to him. Son sounded even stranger. But Mamoru supposed he indeed had a son now. The glimmer of a smile reached his lips. Though the man had never felt the need for a boy, he found that Small Lady was hard work enough not to justify wanting another; he was given to a foreign joy within him. Perhaps it was just a primitive need for male camaraderie. In a palace brimming with women, Mamoru felt himself drowning in the estrogen and drama at times.

He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned over, looking at the speckled confetti on the steps, and linked his fingers together. Closing his eyes, he could still see his daughter in those days when she was forever young. He was glad when she was able to grow and experience the world of adults. She had matured so well on her own, but without the body her mind still seemed too fall behind.

His aged eyes opened and remembered how she felt in his arms before she danced away into the arms of her husband and their limousine. He felt a bag of confetti pressed into his hand and mechanically threw it into the arm as the two scampered down the stairs, into the open door, and off into the sunset to pursue their own fairy tale.

He clenched his hands then relaxed. Leaning back, he let the chill of the autumn wind twist his hair and clear his thoughts. Behind the darkness, he played a slow moving cinema of his memories. His heart fluttered with fatherly pride in each scene.

He recalled when she had told him. He had just come home, rather late even by his standards, and made his way quietly through the apartment. He knew Usa would be in bed, as she had to work in the morning. He crawled as carefully as possible into bed when his coy wife spun on him and pressed her lips to his. Due to the lights of Tokyo, the room was not terribly dark and he could make out his wife's frame and nightgown easily. He smiled and went to wrap his arms around her when she grabbed the outstretched arms. He looked at her quizzically when she smiled magnificently.

"Thank you," she whispered into the enchanting night.

Before he could even ask for an explanation, she held his hand before her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes and he could feel as well as see her aura shining with the power within her. Her hands, clasped above his, channeled the soft energy through his hands and into herself. Mamoru closed his eyes as she directed his psychometry through her body until they came to a stop.

Mamoru didn't have to look far for right in front of him was a tiny ball of silver and gold flecks. Before his eyes he watched the inside of the ball split, over and over, breaking into tiny sparkling pieces of gold and silver. His medical mind took a moment to catch up to his extended one and he suddenly was pulled away from the beautiful reaction happening within his wife.

In the night, he stared at the woman before him who glowed with more than the inborn power of the Moon. He knew his mouth was hanging open and his breath was coming out in a wheeze as he tried to reel in his thoughts long enough to say something intelligible.

Finally, he settled on a smile that perfectly matched the one on her face. He grasped her hands again and squeezed. He just laughed, letting all the joy and fear and pride and simply everything wash over him. He embraced her tightly, feeling her own arms clutching to him strongly, burying his face in her smooth, unbound silver hair. He raked his hands through it, laughing like an idiot and not caring. Usagi was laughing too, laughing and crying, with a happiness only known to those couples who are suddenly pressed with the joy of parenthood unexpectedly. Especially a pair that fought two lifetimes for such a pleasure.

He pulled away from her, wiping away her tears, as she did the same for him though he never even remembered when he had changed from laughing to crying. Small chuckles continued to echo through the room as they tended to one another, seeing nothing but the love in the other's eyes.

Eventually, they collapsed into the bed and simply held each other for the rest of the night, too excited to sleep, too overwhelmed to speak.

He remembered when the doctor had handed the small bundle of writhing flesh to him. The child had instantly quieted her fit, seemingly knowing her father, her greatest protector, held her. He remembered when those tired eyes opened and stared at him before closing around the blanket and finally sleeping. The rush of ecstasy that ran through him was immeasurable. Here was his family complete.

He kissed the damp down at her hairline, holding her a bit longer as the staff checked on the status of his wife. At her insistent arms, he presented to the woman who carried his soul their greatest treasure. They shared a look of passion, not of desire; a passion of their dreams finally coming true and the fierce joy their daughter's life brought to them. Mamoru bent and kissed his wife's sweat-ridden brow.

"You did well, Usa," he whispered softly, taking the child from her arms and handing her off to a rather adamant nurse when Usagi's eyes started to droop.

He knew the way she always came to him, near midnight, afraid of some strange noise in her room. Her mother would be in bed, snoozing, and he would pick up the child and set her in between them. She would snuggle as close to her mother as possible and Mamoru was not at all spurned by her playing favorites. He was simply happy to have her at all.

Those were always his favorite nights. When he could prop up on an elbow and watch his family sleep. He could touch the tendrils of hair that snuck onto his side of the bed. Even the small family of cats at the end of their bed brought him a fathomless joy. It was these times he knew himself to be more complete than ever. He had a family to watch over, to love, and to devote himself to; it was the pinnacle of his life.

There were those times, when she was slightly older yet not starting to age yet, when she demanded of him bedtimes stories. He adored recounting the fantastical adventures of his youth. In his own way, he could not allow his daughter's hero figure be anyone but himself. Mamoru prided himself on being her protector and confidant; therefore, he could not simply allow her to base her understanding of a prince charming on any one but himself. Perhaps he was steeling himself for the situation he was in now, for he could only give his daughter away to someone he knew to be greater than himself. If he set her goals high at a young age, he was nearly guaranteed such a thing. But even fathers don't have to like their daughter's love interests even though they fit their rigorous qualifications.

Looking back, he enjoyed that time the most. She still believed in him completely and did not see him as simply a man. She did not question him and her eyes shone with such absolute idolization. He never asked if he was deserving of such adoration; later in her life she did.

Even her rebellious years, when her body was finally growing and she was trying to find her place in life after 400 years of being known as a Small Lady, he could look back at and laugh. Really, the time she dyed her hair electric blue seemed rather amusing now when at the time Usako nearly had her head. Not to mention, he was running around in gloves for weeks when his wife proclaimed ultimate punishment on the one who helped her.

He watched quietly as the bond between his wife and daughter broke and mended time and again. Small Lady was trapped between an increasing need for independence, not realizing that said independence would bring her abruptly into a ruthless adult world from which he tried to shield her, and the fears of a life by herself without the support group her family and senshi created. Ages older, he could agree that some of her obstinate outbursts could have been handled more tactfully, however the end result could not be disputed. Small Lady grew into a fabulous, caring woman, and the rebellious times were an easy enough trial in becoming a true Lady.

The most recent edition to his film flipped through his mind. Not six hours earlier, after finding an alcove away from the frantically moving women, staff, and guardians, (even at his height he was sure to be bulldozed!) his wife came and hoisted him out of the bench, dragging him toward the large doors that would soon open to show blushing bride and callous father.

His hands shakily clasped hers as her mother quickly dropped the veil over her face before making her own hasty retreat through a side entrance. She nodded at him and he moved to the side. Her hand was in the crook of his elbow and suddenly his heart was in his shoes. His temperature plummeted as the large oak doors opened to her destiny.

Each slow step they made pressed upon the hearts beneath his soles. He gulped down the sudden faint feeling in his head and he swore there were birds humming in his ears. They were halfway down the long aisle, altar in sight much to his dismay, when he felt a very strong grip upon his elbow.

He glanced sideways at the woman on his arm. He felt a witch had come in the night and suddenly turned his beautiful, not always so innocent, daughter into this remarkable woman. Right when she was able to truly share the world with him, he was giving her away, he realized. A second, more pressing squeeze brought him back to her shimmering eyes just as his heart squished with one more footfall and he swore he was leaving a bloody trail on the red carpet.

"Ganbatte," she scolded softly. He blinked then suddenly straightened and continued on with a renewed resolve. Here he was, the king of the world, losing hope during his daughter's happiest and most fearful moment in life! He pulled himself together, remembering his own wedding and Kenji's disgruntled look. Even Usagi had seemed nervous and they were destined for one another!

A quick closing of his eyes and strong breath brought him back to his duty. Pride flared in his chest for the daughter on his arm; she handled the situation expertly. He smiled at this. She was going to be all right, he realized. He wasn't her protector anymore, he wasn't whom she idolized, and he wasn't who she was going to go to first to dry her eyes, but he would always be her father. That fact could never be taken from him. He had to let her go and hope that everything they taught her would be enough. And if not, they would always be there to catch her when she fell.

So, when the King of the Universe approached the altar with his greatest treasure and was asked to whom he would bestow her, he gladly named her prince. Gently raising her veil, he kissed her softly on the lips. She was startled a bit by this; he hadn't done so in rehearsal or in centuries for that matter. Even if she didn't fully realize it, he was truly letting go. He was giving his daughter, the one that would crawl into bed at night, or demand stories of Sailor Moon even after she had met the famous heroine, or scream at him when he intruded upon her private space, or would go for quick ice cream excursions even though they had easily outgrown such an exercise, to the prince charming he had always tried to be for her.

He snuck back into his place at the pews and felt his wife arms come around him. He held her tightly, kissing the crescent on her forehead. Realization hit him between the eyes and he pressed his face into her hair. Even if his daughter did not need him, he would always be a prince to the princess in his arms.

A hand at his shoulder brought him from the small slideshow. He felt his wife kneel beside him, keeping her delicately brocaded dress from catching on the concrete. With a final breath of farewell, he covered her hand with his own and stood. He pulled her along with him as they made their own exit. The two walked hand-in-hand into the sunset, having fulfilled a destiny thousands of years old.

A warm, WAFFy goodness ... it even makes me giddy!

Reviews please!