Disclaimer: yeah, I know this stuff belongs to everyone else,
(i.e. Naoko Takeuchi,Bandai, Kodansha etc.), but me. Get it, got it,
good. I doubt that anyone would actually try to sell this piece of
junk, but in case you’re thinking about it, well, don’t.
Note: More over-the-top insanity and screwing with destinies.
I dedicate this story to Gena-chan, for just being wonderful, and
Barnett, who never should have given me that Anne Rice book... of
well, No English No Cry... A section of this story isn’t particularly good, (the scene with Usagi and Mamoru). Gomen nasaii, but I just
wasn’t sure how to write it. As for comments, flames and rude
insults, send ‘em to email@example.com However- no suggestions
‘cause if it’s already posted I’m not gonna change it.
The day was dark, rain fell in sheets onto the streets. From a street corner Usagi could here the happy shouts of children, but they made her miserable, aware of her alienation from them. She stared at the sky, anger bubbling suddenly inside her.
“I loved him!” She screamed, her voice breaking with pain. “Listen to me! I LOVED HIM!”
The children stared at her for a moment, and then continued playing.
She slumped against the Bus Stop sign, the anger swelling inside her giving way quickly to misery. Drops of rain trickled down her face, mingling with silent tears.
* * * * * *
Earth was covered in rain, just as he had ordered. He had wanted the darkness of his life to be imprinted on their lives, if only for a moment. He lay on a bed, shirt open, the pale glow of his skin contrasting sharply with the black silk covers of the bed. His golden-brown hair was like sunlight, allowing the pale moon of his chest and the dark of the sheets to mock it’s light.
“Kunzite, come, please come. Hold me.” There was no sound to his speech, and yet it was there, lingering in the mind. There was no reply. He bit his lip and tried again. “Come. Hold me.” Silence in the mind, permeating the air.
The man sank into the bed, his eyes filling with tears of utter abandonment. He felt devoid, empty, hopeless. Teardrops melted into the back silk.
“Crying for me Zoicite?” A voice rang out in the room, rich fool, almost mocking. “Did you think that perhaps I would leave you?”
“Kunzite!” He closed his eyes and smiled, lips curling seductively.
“You did! Ah, my poor fragile beauty, you are so beautiful. You are a spark of light in this dark life.”
Zoicite opened his eyes, deep emerald glowing with sardonic humor. “Ironic, isn’t it.”
“Zoicite, don’t be bitter.” Kunzite moved across the room, shedding his black coat and soft back shirt carelessly on the floor. He lay on the bed covering Zoicite’s body with his own, shielding him from ruthless torment, pressing his hot lips against his lover’s chest. Zoicite moaned, his lips furtively searching for Kunzite’s, and finding them let his tongue slip between inside, ice cold hands stroking long silver hair, tussling it in his fingers. He allowed Kunzite to ease off the shirt, hands caressing him gently at first, then more savagely- bodies pulsing, mouths desperately pressed together. Their bodies were entwined, chests heaving with passion.
Kunzite rolled away from Zoicite, gasping for a moment, but quickly regaining breath. “H-how is our plan going?”
Zoicite smiled secretively, again running his hand through Kunzite’s hair, kissing him again before answering. “Things are going excellently. The trap is prepared, and I believe she’ll fall right into it. She’s stupid, miserably weak, and an ice crystal should kill her quite effectively-”
“Zoicite, we must not rush into this.” Kunzite rolled back into position. “ However, everything will go right, and then the ‘queen’ will bow to us, and reveal her secrets; we will tower over those mortals.”
“And Nephrite will suffer with her. At last that fool will be used for the only thing he is good for- his life energy.”
* * * * * *
Nephrite had long since given up struggling against the iron chains that bonded him to the dank wall. He could still hear Zoicite’s words. “No one will miss you. No one will mourn your worthless body.” He growled just thinking about it; the ruthless tone, the flashing green eyes, the fragile frame walking jauntily away, mocking his very existence. Zoicite thought he had the upper hand; there was one thing that he wasn’t aware of. A small ebony crystal spun into being. Although he couldn’t touch it physically, he could feel it vibrating within his very skull.
“The stars know everything. I command you to show me my fate!”
There was a glimmer in his mind, a wash of blood, darkness. And then, a spark of light like a match being lit on a pitch-black night, a girl her red hair flaming in the darkness a scream, a suddenly overwhelming sound, as if every mortal in the world cried out-
Sweat trickled down Nephrite’s face, stinging his eyes. He opened them, wondering why his wrists hurt so much, discovered he had been pulling away from the shackles that held them; upon closer examination he discovered that the shackles had created deep gashes, and the skin had been rubbed raw. He turned away, looked down at his chest, and was immediately sickened by the sight. On it was carved the symbol of Moloch.
* * * * * *
Mamoru saw her standing there on the corner, raving to the sky, her voice bitter, insane. Her hopelessness was a type that he could understand, one that he himself had felt time and time again. Hastily her went to her, shaking her lightly.
“Usagi-chan, what’s wrong?”
She turned to him, poised to strike, hit him on his jaw; the sound of cracking bone filled the air. However it was not the sound of his bone, but of her hand cracking, and she twisted in agony.
“Usagi-chan!” He stared at her, aghast for half a moment, shocked by her unusually rash behavior; impulsively he grabbed her unbruised hand and pulled her onto the arriving bus.
* * * * * *
He hadn’t had the slightest clue where to take her. He knew he should have probably taken her to the hospital, or the asylum or something, but instead he had dragged her back to his apartment. That was where the bus was headed, and for some reason it seemed like the only *right* place to take her. After all, she wasn’t insane, just reckless and desperate.
Now he stood at the door of his apartment, one hand fumbling in his pocket for the key, the other keeping a tight grip on her hand. He had no doubts that if he let go she would bolt from him, and that she would never be found.
Now he looked at her. Her hair was wild, unwrapped and cascading down her narrow shoulders, a stream of sunlight. The beautiful blue eyes, usually full of cheer, (or indignation when she saw *him*), now contained only anger and grief.
At last he found the key, buried under a mountain of pennies in the pocket of his jeans. He fumbled with it for a moment and then at last pushed it into the lock. He heard the lock click, and pocketing the key once more, turned the doorknob and led Usagi into the room.
It was indeed a bad time to have a visitor. Take-out cartons were spread along the counters in the kitchen, and a couple of beer bottles lay nonchalantly on the table in his living room. He nearly laughed at his self-conscious thoughts. Usagi was in no shape to care how his apartment looked.
He closed the door carefully- so as not to scare Usagi- and sat her down on the couch. He remained holding her hand for a few moments, and then sure that she wouldn’t try to escape, released it and, looking at her drenched clothes removed his jacket and placed it over her shivering body. *More soon*
Tell me what you think of this mess!