Commentary: A day late, a dollar short. Sorry! Still had a ton of fun with this, though. =)
Some people have asked me if I'm writing a chapter for Usagi. The answer is yes. Expect that tomorrow, I hope. I will also make a decision then whether to include the Outers in this endeavor. Either way, it's been a fantastic ride!
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. =)
CYCLE
PART IV: Venus
or
The ties that bind (and bind, and bind)
Glorious noon washes the world golden. Her tennis shoes squeaking over the sidewalk, her hips bouncing and jiving, Aino Minako boogies her way back from the gym toward home. Her duffel bag sways on its strap on her shoulder. Her lips smack and, humming, she lets herself in through her family's gate. She seizes the mail from its slot and has just begun to mouth a trendy pop song's chorus when she looks up and discovers a soot-stained miko sitting on her front steps.
Minako has seen Rei die, and even then the woman didn't look half as craptastic as she does now. The miko's hair has wedges of tree bark stuck in it. Her calligraphic eyebrows are gone, replaced with spidery she-devil scorch marks. A gradient of what looks suspiciously like bird poop covers, up to either knee, those big floofy red pants Rei always wears.
They lock eyes. The miko sniffs. Her tongue darts out, wets her lips. Her throat makes a terrible little clinking noise. She blinks and tears film her violet gaze.
Seeing her friend's grief, Minako feels her chest hitch. Her heart swells, roars with protectiveness. She tosses her duffel into the side yard and opens her arms.
Rei jitters to her feet and folds herself, after the briefest hesitation, into Minako's grasp. She is trembling. Upon closer inspection, the blonde realizes that there are tiny charred filaments of fuzz clinging to Rei's ceremonial vestments.
Minako has time to think, Feathers? before Rei speaks, her face tucked to her friend's throat.
"I killed them all," she whispers. Her lips quiver against Minako's collar—her fingers find the other girl's wrist. They curl and tighten there. Disbelief colors her tone and she says again, hoarse, a half-sob, "I killed them all."
The breeze blows over them, a low ahooo.
Minako replies, "Oh."
She tucks an arm around Rei, spins the miko in her elbow, and marches with her into the house. Their progress hitches only in a fumble for keys.
She leads Rei through the quiet dwelling—her parents are both at work, thank goodness—to her bedroom. With the ease, speed, and graceful fluidity that come only to the soldier of love, Minako unbuttons and peels away Rei's pants, robe, and undershirt. Before the raven-haired girl is even able to formulate a protest or a yelp of embarrassment, Minako has draped a vomitous pink bathrobe about her shoulders.
She nudges Rei back onto her bed. Seconds later, the mattress bounces as Minako takes a seat next to the startled miko.
Brandishing a hot washcloth she seems to have magicked from nowhere, Minako wipes Rei's cheeks. She informs her gravely, "I knew this would happen one day."
Rei hiccoughs out a surprised, "Y-you did?" beneath the steaming washcloth.
Minako provides a sagely nod. "As the leader of the inner guard," she relates to the other girl, smoothing away silt and tears, "it's important for me to recognize and prepare for the various latent potentials of my fellow soldiers. Especially"—her tone gentles—"if those potentials involve violence."
Rei stares at her, her expression awed. It's the first time the miko has ever looked at her with such raw admiration, and Minako's insides do a funny sort of squirm for it.
Rubbing at a particularly dark smudge of grime, Minako resumes, "Have—have you buried them yet?"
The dark head shakes. "Not all of them—"
"I'll help you," Minako interrupts. Passing Rei the washcloth, the blonde goes to her desk. She opens its topmost drawer and rifles through the papers therein. "It's taken me a few years, but I've plotted some of the best spots—abandoned courtyards, dirt alleys, places like that. Inconspicuous-like. There's a couple of shovels in the back we can use. I bought gloves too, 'course. They're here somewhere. And—"
She finds the document she wants—labeled Rei Goes Bonkers: Plan Alpha—and turns to face Rei again. The miko is giving her a look now that is a mixture of grossly offended and deeply affectionate. She states, washcloth held to her cheek, "You think I've killed people."
Minako blinks, puzzled. "Sure," she admits. "I always knew you would. Eventually." She confesses next, "I seriously thought I'd be one of them, though." And then, "Wait. You haven't killed people?"
"I—no. I wouldn't—" Rei stops. She stares at Minako for the second time in so many minutes, lips parted. "Minako-chan, you… you were going to help me bury the bodies?"
"Of course," Minako agrees. Her brow knits in consternation—how could Rei think otherwise? She professes, "That's what friends are for."
Rei gapes.
Minako grins and shrugs. She tucks Plan Alpha back into her desk and turns to her vanity to pull free her hair ribbon. "Another day, maybe," she allows. She asks, concern creeping back into her voice, "What's got you so upset, then?" She tugs open her jewelry box to find the earrings she took out prior to her venture to the gym. "Who did you ki—"
Metal ribbons beneath her fingers. Minako looks down in time to see her store of necklaces writhing like cobras under her touch. They undulate skyward. She yells out in wordless shock and jackknifes onto her bed.
The necklaces follow her, streaks of brilliance. They wind about their mistress and Rei, binding the two together—they seek vulnerable ankles, wrists, throats. The more the girls shriek and struggle and curse, the tighter the chains pull.
Two minutes later, when they are thoroughly entangled and Minako's cheek is squished into Rei's heaving breast, the blonde grates out, "Whatever happened to you was a lot like this, wasn't it?"
Rei agrees, strangled, a locket Minako received for her birthday last year scissoring down into one cup of her lavender bra, "Yep. Except without the, you know. Giant knot of awkward."
They remain as still as possible. Minako sighs into Rei's cleavage. After a moment, she hedges, "Rei-chan?"
"Yes, Minako-chan?"
"…you smell like fried chicken."