Sorry but, being Shizuru's point of view, I can't describe the mere fight. I hope her thoughts about it could compensate that.
Sometimes, I close my eyes and start to contemplate the things around me. I love to think that around us it exists a perfect plan, a scheme, a web that respond at few simple laws: the laws of aesthetics and harmony between every part.That is a thought I had from my birth. I don't believe in fate, or in the power of superior entities. Yet, the consciousness of that scheme, of that harmonious singing, followed me in every step of my life.
Observing the fight that was lighting the glimpse of Universe in front of me, standing quiet in the command hall, I could imagine the astonishment in the eyes of those unknown men, on the faces of those nomad pirates. The Kiyohime's power was anchoring their ship under my gaze, tearing it up from their control, tightening it in a mortal vicelike grip. And I was simple contemplating the beauty of the battle. Oh, I knew, I knew very well we were superior. For the people, Kiyohime was the definitive weapon, the war colossus, the apotheosis of destruction. I smiled every time, at those thoughts. That was so false, so wrong. So, what Kiyohime was? What it was for me? I keep in my mind, as the most important treasure of my youth, the bittersweet and melancholy memory of the first time I saw its tapered shape, the reflection of deep amethyst on its stem setting toward the highest skies. And I remember very well how much I loved it.
There was pride in the eyes of my parents. They didn't look at me, in my new dynamic space suit and in the mantle, decorated with gold and silver. No. They wasn't look at me, at their daughter, at Shizuru Fujino. They wasn't thinking at my pact, at my chains. Golden chains. No. They was contemplating the space ship and the Imperial Gem. And I had lost all my life, all myself. I was alone, for the first time in my life. And then... then... Then I took seat for the first time in the command hall and suddenly I felt its breathe, its heartbeat against mine. I knew I had tears in my eyes, because I was realizing that my youth has ended there, in that exact moment. And yet I didn't care it. Now, I had new responsibilities, new duties to accomplish. And for the first time, I took that placid mask I never undressed till now. And when the heartbeats became one, I knew that that mask was enveloping also my Kiyohime. We was the same thing. The same thing. That time, I thought we would have become the Imperial pride: a singing expanding to the heart of Universe, the glorification of that intrinsic elegance that was my first and only Belief. We would have become a mirror of perfection that hides valleys of pain. And no one would have destroyed our dreams.
This is the way I like to remember my Kiyohime. And this is also the feeling I like to recall when I think at that day, a life ago, when Sharan's ship was trying to escape from ours, as it was a desperate deer against a wolf. That time, I was sure we were the wolf. How pathetic from me.
The Sharan's Nomad Tribe gave way. It wasn't possible the opposite. We have prepared everything to prevent every escape: there wasn't a way to avoid Kiyohime power. How foolish were we? I never didn't know if mine was a genuine error of judgement, or if a deep and unknown part of me decided to make that mistake, as if it knew that was my only way to freedom. Really, even now I don't know, even if now it isn't very important to me. To us.
I remember very well the celebration in the command hall, after the capture of the Sharan's ship. I remember Chie's voice echoing from the diffusers of my Kiyohime, praising the crew for the job well done. I remember very well the coldness of my cup of tea, in my hand, and the flow of my thoughts turning towards the future. And I remember how I surely appeared for my guys: the smile lying on my lips, my half-open eyes, the composure of my body in the light of victory. How many masks we agree to wear, to hide our true nature? To hide the wounds of our lost souls?
That was the first time I saw her. Even that I remember very, very well.
Kuga Natsuki.
The crystal blue slabs transmitted the images of the Sharan's Tribe, escorted in the secret heart of my ship. And she was there. How many instinct there was in her moves? How many strength? Would she have felt my eyes upon her, even in her unconsciousness, even if she wouldn't have known that – in the command hall – I was contemplating her figure? I can't explain her gaze in any other way. She was there, and now she was looking at the camera, to burn the time and the space and reaching me. Haruka, Assault Squad head, escorted the nomad group with all her natural pompousness, lavishing smiles at left and at right. But I didn't follow her, I couldn't look away from that figure in black space suit. A pair of vivid blue electrostatic chains – so real, so tangible – immobilized her wrists. I looked at mines, and I could feel the same chains – so unreal, so intangible – tie me at my sad destiny.
I hadn't need to ask. The way she was escorted was so clear, so evident. That woman with long, black hair, the gaze of the colour of pure jade, was Kuga Natsuki, the Sharan's Tribe Head, the Redeemer. By her side, there was another woman, older than Natsuki, with a leonine red hair. She was giving withering look at everyone tried to approach her head, and most of all, at Haruka every time she pulled Natsuki's chains. Midori. Midori, and then Akira, Takumi, Yukino, Youko. Their names, at that time, hadn't no meaning for me. But now, I can't forget about them, even if I'd want.
Slowly, I raised from my seat, asking Chie to start the operations for the Nuranian's jump, to be able to make return to the Capital as soon as possible. I would prefer to leave that glimpse of Universe. I would prefer to make return at my home, even if I hadn't a home, no more. But, most important, I would have been able to forget that gaze, her gaze, because I knew that if I had contemplated her eyes, even if for a single moment, all my masks would have been destroyed in a rain of fragments.
Again, how pathetic that was from me. I was already falling, and I didn't know.