LIVING A LIFE FORETOLD
Chapter 8: "A Perfect Heart"
A Sailor Moon fanfic
By Bill K.
Usagi sat at her drawing table, working on page six of part four of the penultimate chapter of "Love Witch". With the sudden departure of Himeko from the ranks of Happy Eskimos Studio, Usagi was forced to pencil the last two chapters of "Love Witch" as well as ink. It was only sixteen pages, but the assignment had come so suddenly that Usagi wasn't sure she would be able to do the job up to the standards of Himeko or Marie Baishaku.
And she missed the camaraderie of the studio. But first Mika had decided to work at home in order to care for her ailing mother. Then Himeko suddenly married Gon Shizumaku, a fellow manga artist noted for his horror work of all things, and apologetically quit the studio to work on a manga with her husband. Given the rents of the studio, Marie saw no reason to continue it and closed the office. Plus "Love Witch" was coming to a close and the combination couldn't help but make Usagi a little melancholy.
Suddenly, though, she had the sensation of being watched.
"Luna," the woman huffed, seeing the black cat perched on her taboret, "you know how much I hate people looking over my shoulder when I draw."
"Oh, pish tush," sniffed the cat regally. "It isn't as if I'm going to criticize your technique or the like."
"That'll be a first," Usagi grumbled.
"Um, you don't think the legs on that figure in panel five are a bit long?"
"LUNA!"
"I just thought I'd remind you that it is four-thirty," Luna continued undaunted.
"Yeah?"
"And supper is at seven," Luna prodded. "And you still only have soba noodles in the cupboard."
"Mamo-chan!" Usagi gasped. She leaped up out of her chair, her mechanical pencil clattering to the floor. "I've got to get something for dinner!" She clamored past the taboret, nearly knocking Luna off, and raced to the hall closet for her purse. "What'll I get?"
"How confident are you in your cooking?" Luna asked. Usagi grimaced.
"You're right. So, La Café Italian or The Golden Pagoda?"
"La Café Italian," Luna replied. "I despise Chinese food. Besides, I believe tonight is Veal Alfredo."
"OK, La Café Italian," Usagi nodded. "BUT NO VEAL! Even since you told me veal is baby cows, I refuse to even look at it!"
"As you wish," sighed Luna. "But something with meat in it, please. Cats cannot subsist on pasta alone."
"Right," Usagi said, slamming the door behind her. Moments later, she opened it again to free the straps of her purse, then closed it and hurried off. Luna just shook her head.
And outside, an observation drone moved to follow.
Rei knelt down on the mat inside the shrine. Across from her sat two fourteen year old girls. She recognized the uniforms as being from Crossroads Middle School and momentarily flashed back to when she would sit across a table from her friends when they wore similar uniforms. Then she dismissed the thoughts and resumed her focus on the girls before her. One had short-cropped black hair and a slightly chubby figure, but a cute face. The other had beautiful long black hair, but was thin and gangly and wore thick framed glasses.
"You have a bright future ahead of you in academics," Rei told the chubby girl. "But only if your dedication remains unwavering. Few things in the future are givens."
"Never mind about that, Sensei!" the girl said impatiently. "Do I have a chance with Kentaru Hondo?"
Just then, the door opened. Jupiter and Venus peered in with a strange man. Rei shot them an impatient glare.
"Whoops!" Jupiter grinned sheepishly. "We'll wait in the other room. Sorry."
Willing herself calm, Rei peered into the chubby girl's face and tried to divine along the line she wished. When the answer came, her heart sank.
"No," Rei whispered. "This person is forever beyond your grasp."
She saw the teen's face fall. That was the trouble with telling fortunes. Sometimes you had to tell people things they didn't want to hear. Then she reached out and grasped the girl's hand.
"Love will be yours, though," she cautioned the girl. "You just haven't met him yet."
The girl's face beamed. "T-Thank you, Sensei!" The girls then adjourned, frantically whispering to each other the way teenage girls did. Smiling to herself, Rei rose to her feet and padded into the other room.
"What's this?" she asked. Jupiter and Venus were on either side of a rough, stocky man. He was bound in a Love Me Chain and knelt like a prisoner between the two senshi.
"The guy who REALLY tried to kill Arashi," Venus explained. "Mercury tipped us off and we collected him." She gave him a small kick with the spike heel of her shoe. "But he's being stubborn and doesn't want to tell us who his playmates are."
"So we thought you might be able to get the information where we couldn't," Jupiter added.
Rei looked him over. Taguchi tried to put up a brave front, but the intense look in the priest's eyes was unnerving. She seemed like she was peering directly into his soul and reading every thought he had.
"Bring him outside, please," Rei said abruptly. She turned and headed for the door, expecting everyone to follow. Jupiter and Venus glanced curiously at each other, then hauled their prisoner up and shoved him outside. Rei was standing in the courtyard, about thirty feet from the small wooded area on the property's lot.
"Deimos. Phobos," she called out, extending her arms. "Attend me, please."
Obediently the two crows appeared from out of the trees. They perched on Rei's shoulders with practiced ease. This raised hackles not only on Taguchi, but on Jupiter and Venus as well, as crows were superstitious icons of death in Japanese lore. The priest approached them with an easy gait. Taguchi began to back away and Jupiter had to hold him in place. When she was about two feet from him, Rei stopped. Her gaze was even more intense now, and if that wasn't enough to intimidate him, both crows stared at him with almost the same intensity.
"Who commands you?" Rei asked.
Her tone was calm, but something about her words reverberated within the captive man's skull like thunder in the mountains. Even Jupiter and Venus could feel the effects. Jupiter caught herself before she whispered "Sailor Moon". Taguchi stared into the hypnotic violet eyes of this bewitchingly beautiful and yet frightening woman, her two crows perched upon her shoulders like harbingers of Armageddon, and wondered if he was about to breathe his last.
"I . . ." Taguchi began, then seemed to forget how to speak. For a moment, Jupiter and Venus thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest.
"Hiroki Tadano," Rei whispered as if she'd plucked the name from Taguchi's future.
"Who?" Venus asked.
"He's a political consultant," Rei informed them, slipping out of her trance. "He currently works independently, but was a former assistant to ex-Democratic Liberal Party Chairman Toguro."
"Interesting," smiled Venus. Taguchi sank to his knees.
"OK, we've got our next lead," Jupiter said. "So what do we do with him?"
Rei frowned. "I don't know. My father's the lawyer. I suppose I should ask his advice, as much as I hate to. We'll lock him in one of the shrine rooms until then." The priest thought a moment. "Although my father was also connected with Toguro politically. Maybe I'd better ask him a few other things first."
Jupiter hauled Taguchi up and the trio escorted him back to the shrine. Seeing they were headed for a building, Deimos and Phobos retreated for the trees.
"Did those crows really help you do that?" Jupiter asked.
"No, they're just for effect," Rei smiled. "You have to admit, it's a scary look."
"Showmanship! I love it!" laughed Venus. Rei winked at her. "Um, but I think you need to paper train them a little better."
Rei glanced at her shoulder, then whirled. "DEIMOS!"
"Don't sweat it, Hon'," Jupiter said, patting the priest on the back. "Akiko does it to me all the time. I know something that'll take it right out"
The low-slung Fiat slipped effortlessly out of traffic and pulled up against the curb. Haruka gave the woman on the curb a saucy grin. Though the driver's eyes were obscured by sunglasses, the woman could tell Haruka was giving her the once over and the driver's eyes were lingering on the perfect legs emerging from beneath her yellow skirt.
Outwardly neutral, Michiru smiled inwardly over the fact that her mate's passions could still be stirred by just the merest glimpse of her legs. She slid into the car with innate grace and they were off.
"Does the top have to be down?" Michiru asked as the car glided back into traffic. "It's a little chilly."
"Live dangerously," Haruka smiled, enjoying the wind whip through her short, sandy hair.
"I live with you, don't I?" smirked Michiru. "That's danger enough for one life."
"So where are we headed?" Haruka asked, changing the subject - - and keeping the top down on the car.
"A reporter friend of mine, at the newspaper. He's working on the bombing story and he told me he has some information on the police investigation."
"And he'll tell you?" asked Haruka.
"He's a big fan," Michiru said, pleased with herself.
"Of your violin or your art?"
"Yes."
"Is he smitten with you?" Haruka rumbled.
"Yes," Michiru said.
"Do you encourage it?"
"Maybe," she replied, acting the coquette. "Jealous?"
"Insanely," Haruka replied. Her left hand left the wheel and goosed Michiru. She jumped and let out a squeal.
"Then just remember this the next time you're flirting with our waitress in a restaurant!" Michiru admonished, her eyes bulging and her mouth trying to keep its scowl. That elicited that bad boy grin of Haruka's that sent Michiru's heart fluttering.
The pair pulled into the parking garage of the newspaper and headed up to the newsroom. They passed through a hive of phone calls, word processors humming with activity and scurrying people. Michiru approached a desk with a thin, smallish man with glasses, thinning hair and tired eyes. When he saw Michiru, his eyes lit up.
"Kaioh-San!" he exclaimed, standing up. "I'm glad you made it!"
"I'm grateful to you for sharing this information with us," Michiru smiled. "This is my mate, Haruka Tenoh."
"Yes," the reporter nodded, less glad to see Haruka. "You're the race car driver."
"So, the police have a suspect?" Michiru asked. "How did they find him so fast?"
"The police are good," he shrugged. "Forensics determined the bomb had a five minute delay timer on the detonator. Once they knew that, the detectives called up the tape on the traffic surveillance cameras and managed to get a shot of the guy leaving the firm at about the right time."
"You know his name?" Haruka asked.
"Kazuhiro Yamada," he replied. "My contact with the force says he's some sort of soldier of fortune type - - ex-mercenary, ex-bodyguard, even did a stint with the French Foreign Legion. Knows munitions from his army stint. They picked him up about an hour ago. Unfortunately it'll probably be on the television news shows before we can go to press with it. That's why I'm working a different angle."
"Any idea what his motive for the bombing might be? Did he have a grudge against the investment firm?" Michiru inquired.
"None," the reporter responded. "The police are looking into whether it was an insurance fraud gone wrong. But I don't think so. That's the angle I'm working. If I'm right, it'll blow those TV guys away."
"What do you think is his motive?"
"Oh it was for hire all right. That's the kind of person Yamada seems to be. He doesn't do anything unless it's for money. The question is who hired him? The police are checking the firm, but I have word that they're also checking a connection in his banking account that could lead to Kujawa Heavy Industries."
"They give somebody at Kujawa a bad stock tip?" Haruka puzzled.
"Who knows? They're still digging. So am I. Kujawa's been pressing the government for financial aid for its armaments line. Or maybe one of their management team was jilted by one of the stockbrokers. But someone at Kujawa is involved in this. I'm beginning to feel it."
"That was fascinating," beamed Michiru, trying to be as complimentary as possible without encouraging the man further. "If you hear anything else, I'd just love to hear it. In the meantime," and she reached into her purse, producing two tickets, "I'd just love it if you'd come to my concert next month. I promise I'll even dedicate a piece just for you." Michiru made sure to pucker her lips around the last syllable as she slid the tickets across the desk.
"T-Thank you, Kaioh-San!" the reporter gushed. Michiru turned and left, Haruka by her side. Haruka gave the man a last, passive look, almost like a territorial challenge.
"So now what?" Haruka asked as they left. "We stake out Kujawa until the wind or the water finger somebody?"
"That's what I was thinking," Michiru replied. "We may even beat the police to this - - or we may just be there to assist."
"I can think of worse things to do than be alone in a car with you all day," Haruka smirked.
"Mind on your work, Romeo," Michiru admonished.
As they passed the last desk, Haruka noticed the eyes of the reporter at the desk lingered on Michiru's bottom. Her hand came up and wrapped possessively around Michiru's waist, eliciting an amused expression from the green-tressed beauty.
Goro Haneda was the executive assistant to Hikaru Ishii. It was a prestigious position and the compensation was large. But the job also entailed making Hikaru Ishii's whims into reality, sometimes through hard work and long hours, and other times by at best unethical practices. He winced inwardly sometimes at what he had to do in the course of his duties, but capitalism was a cutthroat system and those with morals usually lost. And he liked his position and compensation package too much to lose it.
Those thoughts had comforted him in the past. But now, with the storm clouds of arrest and disgrace looming on his horizon, they were scant comfort. The executive pushed back his slicked back black hair and adjusted his black frame glasses before going in. Drawing on the fifteen years in the business for composure, Haneda greeted his boss's secretary and after a moment's consultation she buzzed him in.
"What's wrong, Haneda?" Ishii asked from behind his desk. "You seem upset with something."
"Sir," Haneda exhaled, "the police have the operative I hired to stage the 'terrorist incident'."
"How did they find him so quickly?" Ishii queried.
"He must have been careless. I think they've linked him here. Two detectives were just here questioning me. I'm not sure if our operative talked. I denied any knowledge of him, of course, but if they manage to find and trace the first payment to him . . .!"
"That's why you use cash transactions, Haneda," Ishii replied simply. "Paper is harder to trace than bank transactions."
"Sir, I'm beginning to think this was a mistake."
"Nonsense. Have you seen the news shows? Listened to the talk radio? The country is abuzz with talk about the new terrorist threat. People were already worked up about Korea and this just stirs the pot more. They're questioning the effectiveness of Prime Minister Arashi and his coalition. Arashi will have to start gearing up the country's military strength just to allay the public fear. And we'll be right there on the ground floor."
"But sir . . .!"
"Do you know I got word from Dr. Nishimoto just now?" Ishii continued. "He was able to complete the prototype for the M - 1 Hard Suit in record time. Once we release the publicity on this, coupled with current events . . ."
"Sir!" Haneda interjected. "What if a police investigation involves the company? If the payment is linked back to Kujawa, the resulting scandal might torpedo any possible success for the M-1 or anything else we produce!"
Ishii looked at him as if rising out of a dream state.
"Then you'll have to see that it doesn't involve the company," he told Haneda, "by any means necessary. Even if that means taking personal responsibility for this."
"Sir!" Haneda gasped. "This could lead to conspiracy to commit murder charges!"
"The company has a fleet of highly skilled attorneys. They can very easily negotiate any charges down to simple conspiracy at the most. You'd be looking at a fine and probation, possibly a year in prison worst case. Your family will be well-cared for during that time and you'd have a permanent position with this company waiting for you, with a very lucrative financial package." He looked at Haneda sharply. "Loyalty does have its rewards."
"Y-Yes, sir," Haneda whispered.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet with Dr. Nishimoto," Ishii chuckled like a child on Christmas Eve. "I want to see this company's gold mine for myself"
Dr. Mamoru Chiba was in the process of examining a forty-four year old dock laborer. The man was in the hospital with a back injury that x-rays had revealed were the result of two bulging disks in his lower lumbar region. As he explained the problem to the squat, burly man and his recommendation for surgery to relieve the problem versus prolonged rest and treatment with drugs, he wrote out instructions on the patient's chart for the nursing staff concerning his care. A nurse waited for him to finish so she could start giving the patient his medicine.
Suddenly Mamoru's pen clattered to the floor. The nurse looked up curiously at the tall, handsome doctor. She found him pale as a sheet and staring off into space as if he'd just witnessed his own death.
"Dr. Chiba?" she inquired.
"Usako," he whispered fearfully.
Continued in Chapter 9