Chapter Two - Returns
"I can't forgive
Can't forget
Can't give in
What went wrong?
'Cause you said this was right
You fucked up my life
I'm kicking out fiercely at the world around me
What went wrong?
I'm kicking out fiercely at the world around me
What went wrong?"
-Blink 182, "What Went Wrong?"
...But before then, it was hard to tell exactly where I was and who was
who. For a while I just drifted, not thinking or feeling anything. It
was the only thing I could think of to escape the hell my life had
become. Then I got a rude awakening.
-----
One week later...
Darkness. Then light. Then darkness again. Then everything was a big
blur, garbled with chaotic noise. No way to tell if anything was really
happening, let alone what.
Memories...from a life lived by another. Another who lived and died
long ago, crowding out what was already there. Already difficult to
remember the *real* world, the *real* life, the memories are so strong.
But they're not coming out in a way that makes sense. Chronological?
Possibly, but too fast and too broken to tell.
Parents and siblings. Boys and girls. Growth and knowledge. Secrecy
and discovery. Museums and concert halls. The sea and the sky. Green
and yellow. One and another. Life and death. Light and darkness. And
always duty, love and sacrifice...finally, fire.
Fire consumed all.
Then there was only the agony of burning. The feeling of the flames
tearing at the skin, destroying everything it touched, was the only
feeling in the world. And it would never end, because it was inside the
prison and outside it at the same time.
But wait...there was something that undid fire. That was water. There
had to be water somewhere! Bring it to the fire! Call it! Make it
come!
It wasn't supposed to come, but it did. The water came in a great rush,
destroying the fire. There was no more burning; now there was only
drowning.
The water had come, yes, but making it leave was another thing. It did
not want to leave. Or maybe it couldn't hear. Maybe the voice was too
small. Either way, the water grew higher and higher, surrounding from
all sides.
Water consumed all.
-----
Haruka looked from the key in her hand to the door in front of her. She
had hoped she would never have to come back here, but part of her knew
she would have had to someday. Better sooner than later, she guessed.
She took a nerve-steeling breath and slid the key into the lock.
The former Senshi opened the door slowly, quietly, like a burglar in her
own home. But that was only fitting, because burglary was essentially
what she was about to commit. And if Setsuna was here, she didn't want
to have to deal with her.
She crept through the living room, between the couch and the coffee
table, past a pair of chairs. Michiru had picked out the furniture.
She'd always had a fascination with Western decor. Haruka herself
didn't care much how the room was arranged as long as she knew where
everything was...even if it was under a mile of dirty laundry.
Michiru...she had always kept things so neat and clean. It had bothered
Haruka sometimes in the past, but now the spotless room seemed like the
most beautiful thing she had seen in a week. A tear rolled down her
cheek and stained the carpet.
Haruka shook her head and moved on. She found herself in the kitchen.
While the living room had looked exactly the way she had last seen it,
the kitchen did not. There had been plates and glasses and pots all
over, filling the sink and spilling out onto the counter. Now they had
all been put away, and the room was perfectly clean.
Setsuna must have been the one who did it. Haruka idly wondered why the
Senshi of Time even bothered. Half the time she hadn't even eaten with
them anyway. Sometimes Haruka even wondered if Setsuna ate at all.
But she did, and she was hungry. For the past week she had subsisted
mainly on fast food and vending machine snacks. Those were just the
closest things available where she had been staying, and she had been
too lazy to cook for herself.
There was none of Michiru's cooking in the refrigerator. That wasn't
surprising, considering it would have been at least a week old. But
there was cola, vegetables, and sandwich fixings. Haruka pulled a big
armful of things out and started making herself some real food for the
first time in days.
She took the food with her as she went on. The temptation to go sit on
the couch and wait for Michiru to come home was hard to resist.
All thoughts of secrecy were gone. If Setsuna was anywhere in the house
she would have heard Haruka digging in the refrigerator. But Haruka
neither saw nor heard any indication the other woman was there.
She finished her food quickly and left the dish on the living room
coffee table. She had another love to see, one she had left here for
far too long.
The garage door opened and the light flicked on. There it was...pure
power with a leather upholstery: Haruka's Ferrari. It was colored
yellow, like the bow of her sailor fuku...which she would probably never
wear again.
That, however, was no reason to leave the car here. The only reason she
had in the first place was because she'd taken off without a second
thought.
She ran her hand over the hood, and found it dusty. She cursed herself
for neglecting the car.
"Don't worry, Daddy loves you," she told it.
Haruka walked out of the garage, but would return shortly. Since she
couldn't take the Ferrari and the Kawasaki at the same time, she had
taken a bus here and planned to take the Ferrari back. But there were
some other things she needed to get first.
She walked up the stairs, again not noticing a speck of dirt. Setsuna
had to have cleaned up, because she remembered leaving clothes strung
all along the banister and crumpled on the stairs the last time she had
been here. That was the day they'd had the showdown with Eudial...it
seemed so long ago. But the memories of her last-minute panic were
still fresh in her mind.
She had told Michiru she was sure they would make it through all right.
Haruka hadn't really believed that; deep down she was scared to death at
the idea of what might happen. But she had put on a strong display for
Michiru's benefit, and the lie had come full circle. It was only how
wrong she ended up being that she hadn't counted on.
That didn't matter now. All that mattered was undoing as much as she
could, making right as much as was possible.
There were three bedrooms on the top floor of the Outers' mansion: the
master bedroom she and Michiru had shared, a single room where Setsuna
stayed when she chose to drop in on them, and a smaller room that had
obviously belonged to the daughter of the family that had lived here
before they had. That room was painted a pale pink color, lined with
wallpaper covered in ponies and pandas. The Outer Senshi had left that
room empty, having no practical use for it.
The door to the child's room was usually closed, but just for the hell
of it, Haruka opened it and looked around. It looked much the way it
did the last time she'd looked inside: empty except for the parallel
lines of light that crept in from the partially-closed window blinds.
Haruka closed the door and sighed, wondering what she had ever thought
could be in there.
The door to Setsuna's room was open, but of course she wasn't in there.
Haruka found herself wondering exactly how much time the Senshi of Time
had spent in this house since...it happened. Maybe she had been waiting
for Haruka to show up. Maybe she'd spent it all doing her Guardian of
Time thing. With her, there was just no telling.
Setsuna's room wasn't much to look at. The only things in it were the
bed, a dresser full of clothes, and a big bookcase crammed full of
books. Some of them looked so old Haruka wouldn't be surprised if they
pre-dated feudal Japan. But she had always found Setsuna's only hobby
just too weird to ask about.
Shaking her head, she decided it was time to get down to business, why
she came here in the first place. The master bedroom...it looked much
different from the rest of the house. It was dirty.
Clothes and food wrappers were all over the floor and the desk. Dust
was starting to collect on everything. Feminine hygiene products were
strewn chaotically around the dresser. The bed was unmade, and the
sheets reeked of sweat...and other things. And unless she was seriously
mistaken, Haruka could still see the imprints of her body and her
lover's on the bed.
She got down on her knees and grabbed Michiru's half of the bed sheets.
She inhaled, breathing the scent she had taken for granted, and now
existed only here. It was sad, what she had been reduced to.
She shook her head and began pulling clothes off the ground and out of
the dresser, and stuffing them into a black duffel bag. It had been so
long since she'd had a nice change of clothes.
She threw in some of the hygiene products, as well as some yen bills
she'd taken out of the bank weeks ago. If that had been all she had to
go on, she would've been in a tight spot, but fortunately she had a big
enough bank account from her winnings at auto racing. Still, every
little bit helped.
She looked around the room for other things that would be useful, when
her eyes fell on a small, framed picture that had been knocked off the
dresser. It was her, holding Michiru. They were outside, in the late
evening; she could see the sunset behind them. For a minute she thought
she had forgotten when and where it was taken, but the guardrail behind
them reminded her. It was that bridge...that same bridge they had gone
to so long ago, and the one she where she threw away her henshin stick.
The only question was, who took the picture?
While she pondered that, she failed to notice the sudden appearance of
another presence in the doorway.
"I was wondering when you'd return here," said Setsuna's voice, snapping
Haruka out of her trance.
Hastily shoving the picture into her bag, she jerked her head around to
get a look at her visitor. And it was none other than Meioh Setsuna
herself. Haruka greeted her with a scowl that would have put a dent in
solid steel.
"What do you want?" Haruka asked.
"Must I want something?" asked Setsuna. "I do live here, you know."
Haruka snorted and went back to packing. "Wouldn't know with the way
you act half the time."
The green-haired woman had nothing to say to this. She just walked into
the room and stopped by the edge of the bed, looking down at Haruka as
she packed. For a while neither said anything. Then Haruka broke the
awkward silence.
"I suppose you knew I was avoiding you," she said.
"Yes," Setsuna answered.
"And I suppose you've been watching me from...*somewhere*...this whole
time?"
"I have."
Haruka was annoyed by the other woman's cut-and-dry attitude. She threw
down a pair of shirts she was holding and stood up to her full height,
which was about the same as Setsuna's.
"So if you knew I didn't want to see you, why did you show up?!"
"There are some things I thought you should know," Setsuna said, not the
least bit intimidated. "And I wanted to ask something of you."
"Well, why don't we start with door number one?"
"Michiru's funeral is going to be held a week from today. Hikawa Shrine
is the location. The ceremony begins at noon."
Haruka stared at her, a dumbfounded, offended look on her face. She
wasn't sure what was worse, that they had made plans without saying
anything to her, that they could do this so soon after Michiru's death,
or the fact that it was happening right at what had to be considered the
Inner Senshi's home base. What the hell did *they* know about Michiru?!
"If you're concerned about not being part of the preparations," Setsuna
said, "do remember that you were the one who ran out. How was anyone
supposed to find you, much less ask for your input?"
Long pause. At length Haruka asked, "What do the Inners care what
happens to Michiru?"
"If I were you, I would be happy that my former enemies were so willing
to put the past behind them. They're able to honor Michiru's memory
despite the fact that she spent a great deal of time working against
them."
"Hah! What do they know about Michiru's memory, huh? For that matter,
what do *you* know about it? If anyone should be honoring her memory,
it should be me."
"Then I can assume you'll be in attendance?"
The room seemed to grow much hotter under Setsuna's crimson gaze.
Haruka was forced to look away, hanging her head. She grasped her
forehead with one hand and made a fist with the other.
"I can't go to that...I just can't..."
"You still haven't accepted the fact that she's truly dead."
Haruka looked back.
"This is what I ask of you," Setsuna said. "Please, Haruka. Stop this.
What you are doing to yourself is killing you. Where have you been all
this time? You're malnourished, you smell awful, and I'm betting you've
hardly slept at all this past week."
"Motel," Haruka mumbled. She wouldn't say which one, or where.
Setsuna walked over to where Haruka was hunched up in self-pity. She
put her tanned hand on the blonde's shoulder.
"Do you think Michiru would have wanted to see you living this way?"
asked the Senshi of Time. "What are you trying to accomplish with what
you're doing? It wasn't your fault she died. There was nothing you
could have done."
'I could have held on longer,' Haruka thought.
"You must not blame yourself for what happened," Setsuna continued.
"You must forgive yourself. But you must also admit to yourself that
she's gone, and there's nothing you can do about that, either."
Nothing she could do...was she really that helpless?
"If you continue down this path, it will eventually kill you. This I
promise you, Haruka."
Like many times over the past few days, she felt an overwhelming urge to
just give up, right then and there. She was sick of sleeping on crappy
motel beds and eating junk food. And was there really any point to
arguing this with Setsuna, who had probably seen the same scenario
played out hundreds or even thousands of times?
She was seconds away from falling on the bed and going to sleep in an
instant, and deciding to get her motorcycle back the next day. But then
she was seized by her righteous anger again, as she had been every time
she started down this train of thought.
Setsuna was her enemy now. She lashed out, using a free hand to throw
the Time Senshi against the far wall of the room. Setsuna cried out in
unexpected pain, and when she looked up again, Haruka was aiming a
deadly glare at her.
Haruka was also aiming a gun at her.
"It'll kill me, huh?" Haruka said with a deranged edge in her voice.
The hand holding the gun trembled. "I'm already dead! They killed me
when they killed Michiru! And you want me to forgive them? I'll die
before I forgive anyone!"
Setsuna watched the hand holding the gun shake. For the first time in a
long time, she was actually afraid. Haruka had pulled this out of
nowhere, and Setsuna wouldn't have expected it if she'd been Guardian of
Time for two thousand more years.
And although her powers weren't confined to her Senshi form, they were
greatly diminished while she was just plain old Setsuna. If Haruka
fired, she wouldn't be able to slow down time enough to avoid having her
skull aerated.
"It's your fault," Haruka seethed. "It's your fault this happened! You
were the one who gave us those damn sticks. If Michiru had never met
you, she'd be alive today!"
There was a terrible silence. Then Setsuna took a chance and whispered,
"If she hadn't met me, she wouldn't have met you, either."
Haruka seemed to sober up at this bit of reality. What Setsuna said was
probably true. It was the awakening of the Sailor Senshi that had
united her with Michiru. Would it have been worth it to have never
known her if she had been allowed to live? Haruka thought for a moment.
'No,' she told herself. 'Even then, I wouldn't have traded my time with
her for anything...gods, what kind of selfish idiot am I?!'
She lowered the gun and looked away. "Maybe so...maybe you're right,"
she said. "So this time, I won't do anything serious. But you're
still as bad as the rest of them in my book, and if we meet again, I
don't think I'll be so damn rational."
Setsuna didn't move as Haruka gathered her bag and marched out of the
room. There were no further interruptions from the Senshi of Time, and
Haruka tossed the bag into the Ferrari, opened the garage door, and sped
away.
-----
Somewhere on the southern outskirts of Chiyoda-ku, just north of the
border with Minato-ku, a strange call went out over the police radio.
"Any units in the vicinity, respond. We've got word of a disturbance at
the Kayusa Housing Projects..."
This was the answer:
"This is unit 105, Kenzan and Sanjo. What's the trouble?"
"Residents report some kind of water main failure throughout the whole
building. We've had tips about some gangs causing riots down at the
Projects. Investigate the scene."
"Understood. Kenzan out." Officer Kenzan turned to his partner, Sanjo.
"What do you make of this?"
"I make that it's 4 a.m. and I don't need a rumble with any gang," said
Sanjo.
"Yeah, well, just get us there and we'll see what's up."
The Kayusa Projects weren't very far, so it was a short drive. They
were the most god-awful, run-down, crime-infested places to live anyone
this side of Tokyo Bay had ever seen. Naturally, all the local police
hated responding to calls there.
Kenzan and Sanjo got out of the car and looked around. At first they
didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but as they walked on the sound
of rushing water began to get clearer and clearer.
"You hear that? What the hell is that?"
"I don't know...oh, kami...look at that!"
One of the bottom-floor apartments seemed to be almost completely filled
with water. It was shooting out at high pressure from the cracks in the
window frame.
"Holy crap, what *is* that?" Sanjo asked.
Kenzan got as close as he could to the window without getting in the way
of the spray. He looked through the window, and he thought he saw a
body floating in it.
"Good gods, there's someone inside!" he said.
Kenzan pulled out his nightstick and smashed the window. The water
rushed out like a miniature tidal wave, taking the battered window frame
with it. He reached into the rushing water, feeling around behind the
walls, and finally found what he was looking for. He pulled the body
through the hole where the window had been.
It was a young girl, maybe six or eight years old, with aqua-green hair.
At first she wasn't breathing, but then she began coughing up water.
"She needs medical attention," he said. Then he turned to his partner
and asked, "Is there anybody else in there?"
Sanjo looked inside. By now the water had leveled off, and the inside
of the apartment looked like a lagoon.
"I don't see anyone," Sanjo said. He looked around some more, and what
he saw shocked him. The water main had been ripped right out of the
ground, and the huge, ruptured pipe was continuing to belch water. "I
don't believe it...what could have done that?"
"Done what?" Kenzan asked, but then the little girl was seized by a
violent coughing fit. "Forget it, whatever it is. Go get an ambulance!
Go get an ambulance!"
The words echoed throughout the poverty-stricken subdivision. "Go get
an ambulance!"
-----
Who am I?
End chapter two.
-----
Author's notes:
For those that don't know, Tokyo is divided up into 23 wards ("ku").
The Juuban district, where the Senshi live, is in Minato-ku, which is
near the center of the city, by Tokyo Bay. Chiyoda-ku is directly to
the north of Minato-ku. Don't ask me where the bad neighborhoods are;
I've never been there. I just put one where I did for the sake of
convenience.
Oh, and I'm pretty sure Haruka would call herself "Daddy" as opposed to
"Mommy." I want a car like that...
And what's the deal with that empty room in the mansion? That's
Hotaru's room, of course, or the one she eventually moves into. But of
course, that hasn't happened at this point in the series.
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