Later that night, Makoto lay with her arms folded behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. The apartment wasn’t fully dark, as they never are in cities, and she could clearly make out Ami’s form against the light from the street. Ami’s soft breathing tickled Makoto’s face, but she didn’t move, finding her lover’s proximity comforting. She thought back to their first meeting, to the day that Usagi had introduced them. She remembered the curious blush on the smaller girl’s face. Makoto could feel herself smile in response to the memory. She had purred, ostensibly at Luna, "Cute kitty." and Ami had seen right through her ploy. Still, nothing might have come of it if Ami hadn’t dropped that notebook. Her thoughts drifted to that day... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Tomorrow same time!" "Okay!" Makoto waved to Usagi over her shoulder as she headed down the Shrine stairs after Ami and Minako. As usual the blonde had flung herself headlong down the stairs and was pulling away rapidly. Ami moved more sedately, her head buried in a book as she walked, already studying for her cram school. Makoto watched her, noting the tilt of her neck, the way she moved. She knew Ami well enough to know that their resident genius was miles away - probably memorizing formulae for a test. Makoto sighed and looked at her watch. "Ami, " she called out, "It's almost 4 o’clock - don’t you have to be at school early today?" With a jerk, Ami looked up at her, then down at her own watch, her face turning red. "Oh! I’m late! Thanks Mako-chan!" And swiftly she began to take the steps two at a time, heading for the bus station at the bottom of the hill. Makoto sighed again and put her hands behind her head. She had nowhere in particular to go to, no where to rush off to...the thought depressed her slightly. She put it out of her mind. It was a beautiful day, maybe she would pack herself a snack and take it out to the park... As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed a small notebook laying face down on the pavement, its pages open and bent. She leaned over and picked it up. The handwriting was clearly Ami’s - she must have dropped it as she sprinted for the bus. "I’ll return it tomorrow." Makoto said out loud, then without consciously meaning to pry, gazed at the words on the open page. Expecting it to be English, or Math, Makoto meant simply to glance at it. But as her eyes scanned the words, she stopped walking and her mouth opened in shock. Lose Control What is it about you that affects me so? The play of sunlight on burnished auburn hair, The storm-fire glitter in your eyes, The touch of your fingers and The heat of your breath? I don't know. That scares me more than it should. Every moment with you leaves me weak; Help me... I can't stop shivering. My legs tremble at the merest thought, My heart beats wildly, Imprisoned. Lying here in the warm, still night, Wandering helplessly, Desire my only guide. I burn for you. You make me forget who I am; You make me lose control. Lose myself. You dance through my dreams, The ghost of a beautiful warrior, And I, Lonely and beguiled, Can only follow Makoto stood, staring at the words, and read them again. There could be no doubt about the meaning of the poem. She knew Ami wrote poetry, of course, they all knew that, but this.... Her breath rasping and heavy, Makoto read the poem a third time. Auburn hair? Storm-fire glitter? She couldn’t possibly mean...? In all honesty, Makoto remonstrated with herself then. Later she would worry if she had done the improper thing, if she had been impossibly rude, but at that moment she had to know. She began at the beginning of the notebook and read a few more lines of Ami’s poetry. From the date inside the book’s cover, Ami had written these snippets in the month or so after they had met. That would be nearly a year and a half ago now, although it seemed much, much longer. Breathless Tower of strength, Storm that washes all clean You scour me, leaving me breathless in your wake and again, on the same page Like emeralds your eyes shine when you laugh Like the sun on leaves after the rain Makoto felt the heat rise from her neck up her face. There was no doubt in her mind at all, now. She felt terrible about intruding, but... "I can’t stand here and read it." Her own voice startled her out of her reverie and she looked around guiltily. Well, at least Ami didn’t see me read it. If I return it to her tonight, she’ll never know. With a shock, Makoto realized that that was the most untrue thing she had ever thought. Ami would know just by looking at her. She squirmed internally thinking of looking into Ami’s trusting face, but she had to know. She had to know what was written in this book! Makoto got on the bus clutching at the little notebook. Her head down, lost in her own thoughts, she almost missed her own bus stop. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Makoto sat down on her futon and with fumbling fingers began to read the poetry, short stories and snippets of thought the notebook contained. She lay there reading, never noticing time slip away, or darkness falling outside. When she at last looked up, she noted with a creeping feeling that it was too late now to attempt to return the notebook to Ami. She’d have to give it to her tomorrow at school. Makoto looked down once more at the last entry in the book, dated that very day, and a flush of red colored her cheeks. Ami’s writing had become more focused, more precise. But the subject matter had never altered. In a breathless whisper, Makoto read out loud: A shock runs through me as you lower your lips to mine, a spark of life that animates me The current that passes between us makes me whole, as we blend into one another I am your canvas, you are my creator Your hands paint me into existence Your thought shapes me My face, my back, my arms all come to life with a touch My breasts, my stomach, my legs infused with your spirit I remain partial until your hands enter me, and then I am alive, filled with your power Makoto stared at the page below her, no longer seeing the characters, nor the inscription below it, conscious only of the title - Supreme Thunder. How long she sat there lost in thought, or even what she was thinking, Makoto could not say, but the doorbell startled her out of her trance. Glancing at the clock, she could see that it was nearly 10, and too late for anyone to drop by for a casual visit. Glancing through the peephole made the hair stand up on Makoto’s neck. Ami, obviously on her way home from cram school, stood outside. She was standing with her arms folded across her chest, clutching her books, making herself clearly visible to the apartment’s occupant. Makoto stared for a moment, then pulled herself away and searched the apartment frantically. She was caught and there was no escape. The notebook burned in her hand. Makoto stood, her hand on the doorknob, paralyzed with overwhelming and conflicting emotions. Perhaps she should sneak away, avoid Ami tomorrow at school, and just dump the notebook into Ami’s locker anonymously. Or she could lie and...no, Makoto shook her head with disgust. What an ridiculous thought! Like she could ever lie to Ami about this. Like she could lie convincingly at all. It is always better to face your fears, Makoto could remember her mother telling her. She put her hand resolutely on the doorknob and gave it a tug before her resolve could dissipate. Ami gave her usual shy smile in answer to Makoto’s greeting and entered in response to her gesture, but Makoto could see instantly that there was something on her mind. Makoto offered tea, but Ami refused - a surprising breach of etiquette for her. There was a moment of silence as Ami looked at the ground obviously trying to gather her thoughts. Makoto unstrung by unfamiliar emotions and unable to find a more polite form of address, blurted out, "I have your notebook." She lowered her eyes and held the object in front of her. Ami spoke quickly. "Oh! Good! I wondered where I had lost it." Her tone of voice was intended to sound cheerful, but it the execution fell far short of the intention. Makoto opened her mouth, trying to find something to say, but was interrupted by a sob. She glanced up at Ami and was horrified to find that she was backing away towards the door, her eyes brimming with tears. Makoto reached out and tried to grab her hand, but Ami backed away another step. Makoto stepped forward, and Ami retreated again. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry." Ami repeated as she moved towards the door. "I thought I could do it, but I can’t." "Wait! Ami-chan! Don’t go." This time her grab for the shorter girl’s wrist was successful and she halted Ami’s retreat. Ami stood as if reading herself for the executioner’s axe. Makoto let her hand loosen around Ami’s wrist, but did not break contact. "I’m the one who should apologize Ami-chan. I had no right to read it, none at all. I’m the one to blame." Makoto spoke with passion, as a drive built, almost imperceptibly, within her to bring the smile back to Ami’s face. She continued to speak, while Ami stared at the floor. "I should have run to catch up with you, not even looked at one page. If there is anyone here at fault, its me." Ami said nothing. "Please don’t be angry with me, Ami-chan. I’m, well, I’m only human, and I saw a poem and read it, and by the time I finished, I wanted to know...I wanted to know who you were writing about, who it was you loved so much." Makoto fell silent as one single tear dropped from Ami’s bowed head to the floor below. "I’m sorry Ami-chan!" Makoto almost yelled in desperation, mortified at Ami’s reaction to her confession. "No, Mako-chan, no." When Ami spoke her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She lifted her head and looked at Makoto’s stricken face. "I’m the one who should apologize. If I didn’t want you to find it, I shouldn’t have dropped it there." Makoto gazed down at the shorter girl, momentarily silent with shock. "You mean...you..." Ami nodded, then reached up and brushed away the moisture from her eyes. "I shouldn’t have done it. I thought I’d be okay if you were angry, but I’m not. I’m scared either way. I didn’t know how to tell you. I still don’t. I’m sorry Mako-chan, I shouldn’t even have written those poems. But from the very first time I saw you..." she fell silent. Looking at Makoto’s hand still clasping her wrist she shook her head slowly. "I’m a fool. And a perverted one, I guess. I’m sorry Mako-chan, you’re probably not going to want to be around me much now. I’ll understand that. I just hope we can still work together as Senshi. Though it may take some time, please forgive me." She disengaged her hand from Makoto’s grasp and turned towards the door. Ami took one step when she felt herself crudely jerked around to face Makoto again. She could see the anger in the taller girl’s face and suddenly felt fear infuse her, settling low in her stomach. Ami had seen Makoto angry before, but never at her, or any one of their friends. "You are not leaving here! Not yet." Makoto’s eyes were hard and Ami shrank from them. "You set me up for this and now you’re just leaving?" Her voice was growing harsh with anger. Suddenly she seemed to notice Ami’s fright and stopped herself. "I’m sorry." Makoto ran a hand over her face in an effort to regain her composure. "I seem to be making things worse." She released Ami’s shoulder and gestured once again to the interior of the apartment, "Won’t you please come sit with me?" Ami moved into the apartment carefully, and perched nervously on the edge of the sofa. Makoto shook her head. "I’m not doing this very well, Ami-chan. I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at communicating - that was why I always got into fights. I guess I’ve never been good at expressing myself. Not like you. Those poems were, well, they were beautiful. I’m jealous, I really am. And I’m amazed. I can’t imagine that you’d want to write about me... Oh, I’m not saying this right!" Makoto gave a frustrated sigh, looked at her hands in her lap and sat, her shoulders bowed. Ami looked across the sofa at her, astonishment in her gaze. "You mean, you’re not angry with me?" "Well, no, I mean yes, I am angry at you but not because of the poems." Makoto met her eyes. "I’m angry because you didn’t tell me sooner, and because, after letting me see those poems, you were about to deny them and walk away." "No." Ami spoke firmly. "I was about to walk away, yes, but I would never deny what I wrote in that notebook. I meant every word." Her eyes flashed, challenging Makoto to dispute her words. "Even that last poem?" Makoto felt a small smile beginning to form at the corners of her lips. "Especially that last poem..." Ami said, leaning forward slightly, subtlely challenging Makoto. Makoto found herself moving towards Ami in response. The distance between them closed slowly. Ami’s eyes, still challenging, softened. Makoto met Ami’s gaze and felt something hard in herself dissolve and flow away. Walls she hadn’t even known she had built, crumbled and blew away like so much dust. They paused, savoring this moment, suspending it into an eternity. Looking into Ami’s eyes, Makoto felt herself moving inexorably into those infinite fields of blue, deep as the heavens. She didn’t want this moment to end. She could feel her anger alter, becoming anticipation, then an excitement she had never before experienced. She knew she stood at a crossroads that would forever change her life. A life that, perhaps, might contain as much happiness as her first 16 years had contained bitterness. Their lips touched gingerly. Makoto reached out haltingly to draw Ami towards her. Ami allowed herself to be pulled forward into an embrace, melting into Makoto’s arms, a small sigh escaping her. Their lips pressed together more strongly and Makoto knew, without reservation that for this moment she had been born. Not to become a Senshi, or save the world as Sailor Jupiter, but to be a woman, and find love in the arms of Mizuno Ami. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Makoto leaned down and kissed Ami’s sleeping form on the ear. Wrapping the smaller figure in her arms, Makoto laid her head against Ami’s hair, closed her eyes, and still smiling with the memory of their first kiss, slept.
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