oOo

Garden of Eden: Heartstrings

oOo

Summary:
She was beautiful, in a haunting sort of way. And he couldn't seem to keep away from her despite his well known aversion towards the fairer of sexes because somehow, she made it okay to be curious. Though she was strangely tragic, there was a daring spirit inside that was reckless to the point where he might have called it suicidal. He knew it, because he could relate to that whimsical edge.

()()()

they say when you're happiest is when you should expect the worst

Chapter 7
sharp lines blur

'I'll make you feel good.'

Really...? She raised hooded eyes. Would he really make her feel...good? She wondered, but her thoughts flurried away as though they were never there when he crushed her lips possesively, so that it would bruise—a blatant sign of his claim. A sign of male pride.

"Real, real...good." His voice whispered against her ear, and his kisses were feather light upon the delicate, feminine curve of her jaw. His hands roamed. It was wrong. It was wrong, it was so wrong. They shouldn't be there, his hands shouldn't be touching her like that. But, but...why...

She gasped, writhed, moaned for all she was worth. A hard gyration, and ecstasy was all she knew. A prolonged friction between hips and lips and tongue and all her troubles could go to hell. This...this felt...good. A shot of temperature, a dose of vertigo and she wasn't sure she could even remember anything but his name, his name, his name.

Why did it feel so good?

She'd never had sex. But she couldn't help being curious about it...

She'd never gone this far before. For all she knew, she might be going the whole way tonight.

She'd never fathomed how good it would feel—never thought it would feel good. It was so messy, so sloppy. All the sweat, and the intoxicated scent of sin—it made her cringe.

But the pathetic romantics around her said it was the best feeling in the world. You feel complete, fulfilled. It feels right. Like you were meant to be held in his arms and kissed, and hugged, and utterly in love with him. You were supposed to get butterflies at the faintest touch, feel warm at the shortest glance. You were supposed to feel safe just holding their hand.

What a load of bullshit, she thought. Bullshit, to those stupid little girls. They were stupid. Stupid, naive and misguided. But then here, now...was love supposed to feel like such a tangible desire that it stained your eyes a darker shade than what you were born with before? Was it supposed to make you react so wantonly, so...primal? Where the only urge is to fuck for all your worth until you can't anymore?

...Was it supposed to hurt?

If it was, then she might've been in love more than once.

'Say my name...say my name...'

God... god.

What about her name?

--

Usagi's eyes scrunched closed tightly. She curled herself into a fetal position to ride the tremors out. Her teeth gritted and her jaw clenched in a display of will against her bodily reflexes. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Just breathe. Deep breaths. She counted to ten.

I don't need it. I don't need it. I don't need it.

She repeated it over and over, chanting it in her mind and muttering it under her breath.

She didn't need it. She was over that. She was better than that. She. Didn't. Need. It.

Usagi clumsily flipped the comforter off her lithe body and stumbled her way to the kitchen, wincing whenever she made more noise than she wanted. Luckily though, after the first few days of coming to Tokyo, Usagi had learned to memorize all the really bad squeaky parts of the stairs in Minako's house. She didn't want to wake her or her aunt and uncle.

She swallowed. It wouldn't go over well if they found her barely making it to the kitchen in the middle of the night.

But she needed to get there.

Water. It would make her feel better. And maybe a pill. A sleeping pill.

That'd be nice.

Her vision was blurring. Damn, her eyes were getting glassy.

Usagi fumbled in the dark with the cabinets, searching it for some sleeping pills, anything at the least. She didn't care. She opened the cupboads, and there it was. There weren't sleeping pills but there was tylenol. Her slim fingers closed around it and she poured herself a glass of water. Usagi opened the container of prescripted drugs with shaky hands that were so much more unusually lacking the grace that she was accustomed to having.

With a loud crack that she dismissed, the two red tablets slipped into her clammy left hand. Her eyes had adjusted by now and she stared at them when they shined under a random bent ray of light from the streets.

It struck her how familiar this action seemed. She'd been down this road before. How many nights had she gone through, seeking solace through beguiled sleep? For a moment, she wavered. She didn't want it to be like before.

'The good kind of crack.'

Mamoru had said it with a sort of twisted cheerfulness. But she could read him like a book by now. He sort of meant it.

But maybe...just this once. Her eyes hardened.

She threw the pills into her throat and swallowed a gulp of water, ignoring the sting in her eyes and throat.

Oh my...God...

Deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Why wasn't it working? Why was she breathing so fast? Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could hear the dull pulse thumping loudly in her ears.

Harder. Fuck! Do it harder...!

'Is fuck your second favourite word?'

She remembered giving a devlish smirk—like it hadn't mattered that she was actually giving him a cryptical answer to figure out. Like it hadn't mattered that at one point, 'fuck' had been the center of her life. Fucked up life, fucked up head, fucked up friends...plain, fucked up shit.

There was a familiar warmth seeping to her stomach. She felt hot in only her oversized t-shirt she wore for sleep. She felt disgusted. She refused to go through this again. She couldn't...she wouldn't.

Yes, yes, ye—!

"No!" Usagi snapped. Her fingers gripped the counter with a tight grip, her nails scraping against the marble. She bent her head down, her hair a curtain that protected her from the outer world for a moment.

I'll make you feel good.

Make you feel...good.

...make you... good...good...good.

"Shit." She could hear that voice. That same voice that ruined her fucking life. What was she doing? What the hell was she doing?

"...Usagi-chan?"

Shit. Usagi turned around slowly, trying to hide her quickened breathing. But she could see Minako's bright eyes in the dark, and she could tell that she was concerned.

"What are you doing down here?"

Minako stepped to her cousin hesitantly at first, before gaining confidence and wrapping an arm around the other girl's slim shoulders. They looked eerily alike yet strangely deviant standing next to each other with the moonlight streaming in through the kitchen's blinds. Minako with her effervescent hair that was the same length as Usagi's platinum. Her cornflower orbs and peachy skin differed from Usagi's stormy azure eyes and creamy skin. The resemblances were striking—but ended right there at appearances. Usagi wore a faded black concert t-shirt. Minako wore a white volleyball season t-shirt.

"Nothing. What are you doing down here?" Usagi questioned.

"I heard some noise, and thought I should check up on you..."

I'm fine. Usagi thought to herself, This is the part where I tell her I'm fine.

You can do it, her conscience mocked, after all, weren't you always such a good liar, Usagi-chan?

Her nails dug into her fists. Usagi didn't quite feel like talking or saying anything just right now.

Minako didn't bother asking if she was okay. She already knew the answer.

Minako had bright eyes and a warming personality. Usagi's were conflicting eyes that saw everything but never said a word. Like when she lied and said she was okay when she obviously wasn't.

"You're not okay."

Of course she was okay, better than okay. Why else would she be down here drinking pills down if she wasn't okay? Damn, who was she kidding? She wanted to agree and say that she wasn't. She wanted to tell Minako that it hurt. She did, she really did.

"I'm fine." The lie slipped off easily on her tongue, a practiced action.

Minako frowned. "It's almost one in the morning, and you're...fine?"

She sensed the sarcasm in Minako's tone. "I..."

Lying had never been her forte, Usagi didn't think. No matter how much she tried to tell herself it was easy, it never was. And it was always hard to keep her face even when she felt like she was the most obvious person in the world when it came to lying.

Except for the fact that no one ever seemed to call her on it.

"You...?"

God, she wanted to say it. So bad.

I'm not okay.

Three simple words—it would be so easy, so easy and great and such a relief to just be able to admit it. And not just to herself—but to someone, anyone. Why not Minako? Why not tell her cousin?

Because she couldn't.

So she didn't.

She didn't say that. She couldn't take it back. She just didn't know how anymore. Somehow, the words just didn't seem right. Or maybe the timing was wrong, or maybe telling it to Minako was what was wrong. Maybe she needed to talk to someone else.

Who the hell was she kidding though? Who, who could she talk to?

She had no friends. She had alienated her family. And her schoolmates either thought she was a freak or the next best thing since black coffee.

She was stuck.

I can handle this on my own, it's not that hard, it's easyeasyeasy, Usagi assured herself.

"Usagi-chan, are you ever going to tell me what's wrong—"

But fuck—it was so hard.

It was then that Usagi realized that she hated the way Minako looked at her. She looked at her with all the loving care in the world, all the utmost understanding and concern. But what did she know? What the fuck did she know? She hated it.

Hated it, hated it, hated it.

God, why did she do that? Why did she look at her like she was going to break any second? Like she was some piece of glass to be handled and not trusted to make her own decisions. She could take care of herself, damn it. She'd been doing it for years now hadn't she? She wasn't dead yet.

"I just want to help you..."

"I don't need help." Usagi snapped. "I need space."

Minako swallowed, taken aback at the hostility. It hurt, to be rejected by one you called family.

Shit, fuck, shit. Usagi thought. The curses ran rampant in her mind. She was supposed to be fixing her relationships, not adding fuel to the fire. Somewhere deep down, she could hear the condescending tone of her long-since ignored conscience.

Now, look what you've done Usagi. At this rate, you're going to make Minako cry. Does that make you feel good? Of course it does, you're a fucked up person already anyway. It makes you feel good to ruin other people.

"Usagi-chan—"

Usagi closed her eyes, in resignation or pain—Minako wasn't sure. Whatever it was that she was remembering, it must've hurt like a bitch.

"Look, can you just mind your own business?"

Minako gave an uncharacteristically serious stare. "You're my cousin. You are my business."

"I don't have to tell you anything."

It was cruel and underhanded to speak so coldly but she was so sick and tired of everyone doting on her. She felt like screaming, or breaking something, anything. She had never felt so trapped in her life.

"Are you ever going to trust me again, Usagi-chan?"

Minako's face fell low enough for Usagi almost to feel sorry. But the anger and frustration was too strong, and she was losing her temper to the point where her conscience could go to hell.

There was a long silence where neither said anything.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Usagi wondered aloud.

Minako back tracked, startled at her cousin's interruption that came in a soft whisper.

"Call you what, Usagi-chan?"

"That." Usagi explained further, gaining numb fury. It was strange to Usagi. How she somehow felt so aware of her anger and frustration, yet she couldn't really feel it. It was like an out of body experience. One where she was watching—where she was the spectator just like she had always been. She knew what was happening, but it was like she wasn't acknowledging it.

"That. 'Usagi-chan.' Why do you call me that? I've been horrible to you for so long. I ditched you our last two, three family reunions and ignored you and now I'm sharing the same house as you. I'm invading your space—I never smile or laugh or talk to you like I used to and all you can do is smile and try to cheer me up and just...make me lunch," her eyes glittered under the moonlight and Minako could see her confusion, "and...introduce me to your friends. What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you."

What was this feeling? Usagi hated feeling guilty—she wasn't about to let the emotion creep up and squeeze her alive now. But her efforts were futile. What she felt now, was much more acute than guilt. Was it regret? Remorse, maybe?

It was like a deep hole in her stomach that ached and ached and ached, and just wouldn't go away—wouldn't let her ignore it. Had it really been so long since she'd felt genuinely sorry for anything?

Minako smiled bittersweetly at Usagi's dishevelled appearance as she took a deep breath. "Because we're family."

What? It was the flimsiest reason for doing anything that Usagi had ever heard.

"I know that you don't understand, but you will. You will." Minako repeated. Usagi wondered if she said it twice to convince herself, or if she really did believe it—either way, Usagi didn't really know what to think. What was she supposed to think?

Minako had pulled her into a hug—an awkward hug, a one-sided hug—the kind of hug they used to share all the time.

Usagi floundered. Am I supposed to hug her back...?

"I'm not mad at you, Usagi-chan. When are you going to get that?" Minako reached out and curled a stray lock of Usagi's hair behind her ear.

The tender action reminded Usagi so much of her mother that she felt her breath catch.

"Try to go back to sleep, 'kay Usagi-chan?"

Usagi swallowed at the sudden loss of heat as her cousin moved and walked away after she gave a nod to her request. For a while, Usagi remained in the dark kitchen alone, staring at her half-empty—no, she thought, half-full—glass of water.

The water was unnaturally still, and for a second Usagi could see and hear everything in perfect clarity. Like a life-changing moment, that allowed Usagi a moment of insight into her cousin's logic and it was this...

Minako didn't think she was a lost cause.

"How 'bout you? Setsuna's not even your counsellor by alphabet—wanna say something about why she acts like your personal psych...?"

...so then why did she feel like one?

--

Why am I still thinking about you? Rei wondered as she lay awake.

She had tossed and turned, opened the window to her modest room—yet still she could not find any semblance of sleep. Exhaustion lay thick over her mind, but her body refused to succumb to slumber.

She had spent the last few days, trying to ruin the life of her best friend's cousin and for what?

To have her reputation shot to hell? To be thought of as not just a spoiled politician's daughter or a freakish psychic, but a closet bitch too? What was wrong with her? The priestess shook her head. What was wrong with her? she asked herself. What was wrong with her, what was wrong with Usagi? What made her think she could just walk in out of nowhere and then get everyone's acceptance when she didn't even belong in Juuban, much less Azabu. She was from the streets, the dirty streets. From Kyoto with a past background that Rei just knew was filled with shady stuff—and then she comes to a school for the privileged and acts as though the whole thing doesn't mean anything to her. Like it didn't matter that she was there when she should've been going to a public school off somewhere else.

Somewhere where she didn't have to deal with her. Didn't have to deal with her hogging everyone's attention and being everything people talked about. It's not like Rei wanted to be talked about, but it's not like she wanted to be invisible either.

It infuriated Rei even further, when despite coming from the streets Usagi possessed an inner sense of grace and eloquence not even she possessed—she, who grew up on a shrine. She who was the daughter of a politician and class representative of her grade. While she worked her ass off for every compliment, every grade, every friendship and piece of respect—Usagi swore, she slouched, she scoffed and snorted, she didn't take anyone at their school even remotely seriously and was just plain rude—and it made Rei angry.

She was never a very patient person to begin with, but the dislike she harboured for Usagi was slowly festering. How much longer till she hated the silver-haired girl?

And would Usagi even deserve her hatred...?

Of course she would. Rei thought bitterly.

Why wouldn't she, when the only girl Mamoru ever talked to was her.

She had strove for his attention for so long, and now instead, he graced someone as ungrateful as Usagi with it. If he would only spare her a moment of playful banter like with her, she would show him she was worth it—is worth it. She could be his everything. If he would only give her a chance. She could make him happy.

They could be happy.

Rei clutched the material of her pillow over her head. She scrunched her eyes shut.

And when she opened them once again to the glare of daylight and the beeping of her alarm clock, she realized with a sigh that another day had passed.

She had been forgotten once more, probably traded in for something better.

Her father hadn't called. He had told her not to worry, that he would call. That all she had to do was wait.

But it was okay. She had the memories of other calls to cling onto, where he had given her advice. And as Rei remembered, she practiced her alluring smile—the charming one that people deemed charismatic. It didn't matter if somewhere deep down it hurt to pretend. She had perfected this act—had even done it for years. She'd learned from the best.

She believed in him. He would come. He would call and ask her about school, her friends and how she was doing and then he would tell her he missed her. That she reminded him of her mother, and it would be okay. It would be great.

He had promised, but she just had to wait. Just a little longer...

"But how much longer, Tou-san?" Her smile wavered. She felt something crack and for a moment she thought the mirror would shatter, but she was just being stupid, right? Hino Rei did not cry. Hino Rei never felt sorry for herself or was unconfident. She was the epitome of everything good and great, everything wonderful.

'Remember, Rei...appearance is everything.'

"I know...I know."

So Rei looked in the mirror, put on her brightest and sincerest smile she could with a practiced gesture, smoothed a lock behind her ear and winked.

"Good morning, Mamoru-kun!" she says to her perfect double, watching as her hand moves in unison with her reflection's.

Her father might've forgotten her, might have ignored her unintentionally...but there was hope.

If everyone else refused to notice her anymore, than she could at least count on Mamoru to return her greetings of good morning, hello and goodbye. Because he was Mamoru, and when did he ever let anyone down? Sooner or later, he would say yes. Say yes to her and then maybe she wouldn't feel so alone anymore because by then, Mamoru would stop paying so much attention to Usagi and start paying attention to her, not Usagi who's life was perfect and couldn't possibly realize how lucky she was, but her.

Hino Rei, the girl who desperately needed someone to care.

Today would be a good day. It would be better.

"It has to be."

--

AN: Sorry for the long delay! Hope you enjoyed it. Oh, and hope you guys have a good holiday!