We have finally arrived at one of my favourite parts in the manga. Please enjoy ;)
I do not own either "Sailor Moon" or "To catch a thief"
Chapter 4 – It is only at the first encounter
For as long as he could trace back in time, Darien Shields had been searching for his past. He had not simply misplaced it in his old coat pocket or the confused dimness of youthful revelries, nor had he forgotten some mortifying childhood happening that his nurse held over his head. Darien had no recollections of either himself before his sixth birthday or of the parents that had died on that day. His life had begun the moment he awakened and stared at a light green ceiling in a vaguely familiar room, his body battered and his forehead throbbing. He did not understand how he knew it, but Darien was certain that he would regain his lost memories once he would find a precious jewel called the Silver Crystal.
With the passing of the years, Darien had learned to hide his weakness behind a mask of perfect amiability. He became a man generally regarded with excessive goodwill, his faultless manners and speech inducing marriage fantasies in more than one lady's dreams. Alas, Darien was similarly benevolent to men and women alike, and no one could accuse him of being partial to any particular person. Being as rich as Croesus had not only favoured his social standing, but also disguised his interest in exquisite stones as a collector's fancy.
Darien had persisted, though his quest for the Silver Crystal had been long and tenuous and more often than naught resulted in black disappointment. He knew the end was nearer and felt in his very cells that the latest lead, a fairly new jewellery shop in Mayfair, would change his life. He did not know just how right he was. Darien decided that his first visit to the store should be made in the guise of his own personage, a young man just returning from a night of entertainment in the town, his evening attire irreproachably fashionable.
The closer he got to the store, the more difficult it became to maintain an even pace and an outward calm, so much so that he could not help a sigh of relief when the store front was in his sights. A young woman exited the establishment just as he reached it. Darien only got a glimpse of a severely buttoned blouse and mannish jacket, plain dark blue skirts that gave the appearance of a uniform, before his forehead was hit with a ball of paper. He could not help his look of bewilderment – she had actually carelessly thrown the projectile over her shoulder after all – and the words spilling from his mouth sounded more caustic than intended.
'That hurt! Are you planning on inflicting a lump on my head as well?' Darien blamed his juvenile response to the tension drawing every muscle in his body taut. He had never done something as imbecilic as addressing a female on the street and, even worse, mocking her hair, as unusual as it was. Intending to apologize, he picked up the offending paper from the ground and smoothed it between his palms. A quick glance revealed that it was a letter addressed to whom he assumed were the young woman's parents, criticizing her academic performance.
'It appears you need to apply yourself to your studies, Miss Dumpling Head!'
Her face paled and for a moment it looked as if she would respond to this reprimand with more grace than he deserved. Darien could see her drawing her dignity around her like a cloak and defiantly raising her chin in the air. It would have served him right to receive a snub in response to his uncivility. Then again, the sparkle in her eyes made his body thrum with a different kind of tension and he somehow found himself preparing to do battle.
'These are not lumps on my head, they are called dumpling buns and are the very height of fashion. An arse such as yourself should mind his own business!' This time she did turn her nose up and serenely walked away from him, as though she had not used a word unfit for a lady's speech. A flummoxed Darien stared at her retreating figure and for the first time in his life he could not think of anything – not one thing – to say. An admiring grin, the kind that would have made the woman of the insouciant speech knock her knees together, spread across his face. Darien felt a new sense of purpose coming over him, as though discovering his past and starting on his future were just within grasp.
This is quite the jewellery store. Were I a gambler, I would bet I will find the Silver Crystal here. With that thought, he pushed the entrance to the store with every one of his instincts on alert.
Author's note:
*Up until the early 20th century, the "nurse" position in the household was invariably held by a woman.
*Sir John Herschel coined the word "photography" from Greek in 1839, meaning "drawing with light".
*The study of cell biology dates back from the 17th century.