A/N: Guess what, you guys? My friend Giri-chan – Revolutionnare Rouge to you guys on – has started her first Sailor Moon fic! It's a series called "Lessons of Life," and it's très hilarious – like five times as funny as STC, and I'm not kidding. It's based in the first season, and it's Sere/Dare – of course. Anyways, please check it out and leave her some reviews!
Also – one of my other best friends, Pyropoet22, has posted his first fanfic. It's an X-men one called "Newbies," so if you're interested in X-men, please check it out!
And now that I'm through shamelessly plugging my friends' stories…
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon….yet.
Subject to Change
"Wow." Asanuma blinked at golden blur streaking across the finish line. "We won."
"Of course we did," said Darien in a disgusted voice. "Haven't you ever seen the Odango Atama sprint before?"
"Well – I'd heard of it, but – I mean – wow." Asanuma shook his head, breaking into a jog towards the bleachers where the rest of the class was waiting to head back to the locker rooms. "She's really good. Why isn't she on the track team?"
Darien thought back to the conversation in detention the previous day and shrugged. 'I dunno. Cause she's a lazy bum, I guess."
"Y'know, Dare, if you keep badmouthing her like that, she's never ever gonna to fall for you."
"I don't want her to fall for me."
"Why not?" Asanuma looked as though he was about to throttle his friend.
"None of your business!" snapped Darien. "Back off."
"No! I wanna know why you insist on being so mean to her all the time. Seriously, Darien, Serena didn't talk at all after role call at all."
"Oh, and that's automatically my fault? News flash, Asanuma, Serena's world doesn't revolve around me. Despite how much you and every other dirty-minded pervert in this school would like to think otherwise," Darien snarled and broke into a sprint, leaving Asanuma in the dust. They just don't get it. They'll never get it. I don't like Serena! Even if I did, I wouldn't do anything about it, because – as I displayed last night – I'm not capable of loving anyone.
"Ami, pleeeeeease. You have to get me out of detention," Serena pleaded pitifully. "Can't you just hack into the school system and cancel my punishment or something? I can't spend an hour alone with that creep!"
"Serena, I told you seven times already, no. N-O. Too many teachers already know what you're supposed to be in detention today." Ami shoved her glasses up on her nose. "Now please leave me alone, I've only got half an hour left to finish counting the cracks in the sidewalk."
Serena sniffed and shuffled away. "You're so mean, Amiiiiii…."
After Motoki's cryptic and enigmatic description of Miss Lanai, Serena had expected strangeness. She had expected to be weirded out and possibly frightened. What she had not expected was for the art teacher to scream delightedly and grab her by the arm when she entered the classroom.
"Parfait! Parfait!"
Of course, the moment Serena's ears caught that word, her anxiety vanished to be replaced by excitement. "Parfaits? Where?" she exclaimed, peering around the room. After all, she hadn't had breakfast or lunch. But all she could see in the room were rows and rows of easels, a desk, and a pastel green leather loveseat.
"No, no, no, not ze dessert parfait," said the woman who had Serena's arm locked in her grip. "Parfait, as in French for perfect, as in you are ze perfect model for my masterpiece!"
"Oh," said Serena, crestfallen. Darn it. "So – um – you're Miss Lanai?"
"Lani, darling, call me Lani," insisted the woman in her heavy accent, turning to look at Serena.
Serena's jaw dropped as she got her first good look at the art teacher's face. It wasn't the green beret Miss Lanai was wearing that shocked her, nor was it the huge round glasses on her nose or the neat brown braid that fell over one of her shoulders. It was the small black mustache that had been penciled above her upper lip.
Suddenly realizing that she was staring, Serena tore her eyes away from the bit of artificial facial hair and cleared her throat awkwardly. This lady couldn't be the Moon Princess! Why would any self-respecting princess walk around with a mustache drawn on her upper lip? Maybe she had been exposed to too many paint fumes. Yes, that must be it. The paint fumes of the art room had addled her brains.
"Um – I'm Serena," Serena introduced herself uncertainly. Now that she had crossed that little bump, what should she do? If Miss Lanai was the princess, shouldn't she have already recognized Serena? Or maybe she didn't have her memories, either. Should Serena bow or something, and see if that helped to jog her memory?
"Serena?" Miss Lanai crinkled her nose daintily and shook her head, sending her braid flopping over her other shoulder. "No, no, no, no. Je ne l'aime pas. I do not like it. I will call you Matin. Oui, Matin. It is much better, non?"
Matin? thought Serena. What in the heck does that mean? I knew I should have taken French instead of English…
"'ere, 'ere, sit down, ma chere," urged Miss Lanai, pushing the flustered Serena down into the green sofa that stood in the center of the circle of easels. "Your boyfriend is coming soon, non? 'e is as good-looking as you are, is 'e?" She sighed, slumped her shoulders. "Although it would be too much to hope for to have two modèles parfaits…"
Serena bristled. "He's not my boyfriend – "
"Oui, oui, je comprends. 'e is just un ami with benefits, non?" Miss Lanai waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Serena felt like screaming. Then the squeal of the poorly-oiled door opening was heard, and they both turned to see a shock of blue-black hair poking into the room.
"Is this the art room – !"
"PARFAIIIIIIIIIIT!" shrieked Miss Lanai, lunging for Darien. She snatched him by the shirt collar and dragged him to where Serena sat, hurling him next to her on the loveseat. "Mon dieu, you did not tell me your boyfriend was so 'andsome, Matin!"
"I'm not her boyfr – " Darien began in a strangled voice.
"FERME LA BOUCHE!" bellowed Miss Lanai, disappearing beneath one of her easels and re-emerging with a canvas in her hand and a pencil behind her ear. "Zip ze lip! I need silence to conceive ze perfect idea for ze painting! Mmm…" she frowned at them, stroking the ends of her 2-D mustache. "Je l'ai! You, 'ot boy, put Matin on your lap! And Matin, put your hands on 'is face – come, come, do not be shy! Believe me, darlings, you need not worry about my sense of propriety! I am French, remember? Adults films are nozzing compared to ze Paris metro."
"Just do it, Odango," muttered Darien out of the side of his mouth. "The sooner we do what she says, the sooner we're outta here."
"Uh – right," said Serena, swallowing. She forced herself to scowl instead of quiver as she sat tentatively on Darien's lap, flushing with mortification.
"To ze side, to ze side, Matin," instructed Miss Lanai. "Sit sideways – yes, like zat, now put your 'hands on 'is face. Vite, vite!"
To hide her embarrassment, Serena slapped her hands on either side of Darien's nose somewhat overzealously. Darien flinched and let out a snarled obscenity that she stubbornly ignored.
"Is this good?" she growled.
"Not so enthusiastically, darling! Look, now 'e is blushing!"
"I'm not blushing!" bit out Darien. "The blood is just rushing to my face because she slapped me so hard."
"Oui, oui, of course we believe you, darling." Miss Lanai winked at Serena. "Now, sit still while I work my magic."
She ducked back behind her easel and soon the only sound in the room was the crazed scritch-scratch of her pencil flying back and forth across the canvas.
Serena was not a creature of quiet. She thrived on noise, on screaming and laughing and whining and teasing. Quiet unnerved her. So of course she began to fidget, first rocking back and forth in Darien's lap, then tapping her fingers impatiently where they lay on his face. A tic began to work in Darien's cheek, but Serena didn't notice it because she was resolutely keeping her eyes away from his face. It wasn't long before Darien snapped.
"Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?" he demanded, voice contemptuous. "Because I'm sure Miss Lanai would rather that we took a break than that you had an accident all over – "
"I don't have to go to the bathroom!" shrieked Serena, her face burning up. "I'm just bored stiff, that's all!"
"'ey! No moving!" screeched Miss Lanai from behind her easel.
"But I'm booooooored," whined Serena. "Can't I at least talk?" She suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be checking if Miss Lanai was the princess or not. "Miss Lanai, have you ever heard of the Sailor Senshi?"
"Ze Sailor Senshi?" Miss Lanai's eyebrows furrowed above her large glasses. "Ze name sounds familiar. What are zey, cartoon characters?"
Serena choked. Darien twitched. She felt her fingers moving, and glanced up at him to see that his jaw was working furiously beneath her right hand.
"Um…not exactly," replied Serena, returning to Miss Lanai. Let Darien sort out his own schizophrenic dilemmas. "They're those uber-gorgeous super-heroes who protect Tokyo. You know, Sailor Mercury and Sailors Mars – and best of all, Sailor Moon!"
Miss Lanai stared at her blankly.
Serena bit her lip. If Miss Lanai was the Moon Princess, shouldn't she have at least some reaction to the mention of the Senshi?
Serena turned to Darien for help and felt a jolt as her eyes met his. Her hands were still loosely cupping his face, and his eyes were stormy and unfocused, his face tense. She had never seen him look so serious – had never seen anyone look so serious, save for last night when Tuxedo Mask had stared angrily at Sailor Moon.
Serena shook her head free of the painful memory and pulled herself back to the present. "C'mon, help me out here, Darien, tell Miss Lanai who the Sailor Scouts are!"
"They're, uh…" Serena lightly tapped his nose, and his eyes refocused, boring into hers for a moment.
"Stop! Stop! Just like zat!" Miss Lanai shrieked suddenly, diving back behind her easel. "Do not move – vous etes parfait!"
Serena's fingers trembled against Darien's skin. She sat very still, trying to focus on Darien's pitch-black pupils instead of his hypnotic blue irises. This was so wrong – why was looking at Darien affecting her like this? Stupid hormones. She didn't like Darien, he was an obnoxious pig; it was just physical attraction that she was feeling. Something that she wasn't in control of. Something that wasn't real, unlike her feelings for Tuxedo Mask, who could always make her smile, not make her want to cry like Darien did.
"Almost done, almost done…" panted Miss Lanai, darting greedy glances between the two teens and her canvas. "Almost…fin!"
Serena tore away from Darien, from both his eyes and his hands. So swiftly did she stumble away, in fact, that she landed on the floor on her bottom.
"Mon dieu!" gasped Miss Lanai. "'ot boy, 'elp Matin up!"
"No, I'm fine, I'm fine!" babbled Serena quickly, scrambling to her feet before Darien could proffer a hand to help her – not that he would have, anyway. "I do that all the time. Um – can we go now?"
"Yes, I suppose you two are eager to be alone after zat little interlude," said Miss Lanai slyly. "Be 'ere tomorrow at ze same time so zat I mat begin to paint ze wonderful sketch."
"Okay!" gasped Serena quickly. "Um – bye!" She dashed out the door.
"A bientot – oh, non! Matin, your bag!" Scooping up the forgotten schoolbag, Miss Lanai hurried to the door. However, Serena had already vanished from sight. "Mon dieu, she is quick. But what about her bag?"
"I'll take it," said Darien, coming up behind her. He held out a hand fro the briefcase. "I know where she's headed, I'll give it to her."
Miss Lanai speared him with a searching gaze. "'ow long 'ave you know her?" she asked abruptly.
Darien's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "About two years ago, I guess," he answered vaguely, thinking back in his head. He'd been a freshman and she an eighth grader come to the school with her friend Molly for Orientation… "Yeah, two years."
"Your counting is off, I think," said Miss Lanai, quirking an eyebrow. She rubbed a finger across one end of her mustache, smearing it across her upper lip, a rather grotesque sight. "But you're young after all. Ah, bien. Till tomorrow, then." So saying, she shut the door, and Darien found himself standing alone in the hallway.
He frowned, puzzling over her words. He recounted the years in his head: yes, he'd definitely been fourteen, and she'd been thirteen, because her sixteenth birthday was this summer…the woman was touched in the head, that was all. How would she know anyway? She'd just inhaled too many paint fumes, that was all.
Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he turned and headed towards the arcade, hoping to God that there wasn't a youma battle that night. He didn't think he would be able to face Sailor Moon without falling at her feet and begging for forgiveness for what he'd done.
A/N: Eh. Another chapter I'm not really happy with. Oh well.
What did you guys think of Miss Lanai? Do you want me to take some of the French out, or do you like it? Tell me in your reviews, please – and if you have any ideas for what you'd like to see in the story, pass them my way.