“What I see – v.”
Moments before...
--
“..Do you know them?”
Rei glanced towards the rear-view mirror.
“If I said I did, will you shut up?”
The driver, Ishikawa, drummed his fingers about the steering wheel pondering the question.
“More than likely, not.”
“Then. No. I don’t know them,” paused Rei – taking a furtive look about the neighborhood. “A left here, then right – stop at the Church.”
He nodded. “Well, she’s famous you know, not sure about him.”
“Really.”
“Hai – She looks to be about your age – surprised you don’t know her. She’s in Japan for a concert...” now or never, thought Ishikawa, “I’ve got tickets maybe...”
“no.”
“...If you’re worried about my age, it’s nothing! NOTHING! It’s nothing but a number – it’ll be fun!”
“I work for the government – fun is not in my vocabulary,” lied Rei. If only to get him to quiet.
Then something dawned on him; luckily a stoplight at an intersection had flickered red. It allowed him to turn about and regard his client. He wasn’t prepared he was blinded by her sheer beauty – Though his angel was obviously Japanese, he assumed that she was born in the United States – she didn’t quite act like a Japanese woman. Ishikawa inhaled sharply. The miko arced a slender, perfectly sculpted brow questioningly.
“What,” urged Rei – uncomfortable at being gawked at.
“Ah gomen,” he blurted. “Seeing how she’s a star - I bet that was your boyfriend, ne? She stole him ne? Is that why you’re so angry?”
This astounded Rei. Were she not irritated perhaps she would have acknowledged how imbecilic the notion sounded; she would have laughed. But the weight of emotions was still raw in her. With her thumb and her forefinger, the raven-haired priestess rubbed the bridge of her nose. She could feel the tickle of a headache creeping from the base of her neck on up. Looking up, salvation showed in an opulent blue-green, prompting traffic to move.
“The light’s changed, just...please drive.”
Ishikawa hit the nail on the head, so he thought – His fiery angel had been hurt. He would do what he could to help mend those wounds, if only she could just open her heart...But complying the driver guided the hard working Daihatsu towards its final destination. Rei slipped from the cab none too soon.
“As much as this pains me to ask, would you mind waiting here – it’ll only take a moment, Ishikawa-san.”
He looked to her with hopeful eyes – she’s opening herself to me...
“I will wait for you for as long as you want, miss.”
Not wanting to waste anymore of her breath, lest she keel over from hyperventilating – Rei just rolled her eyes. Less effort.
A flower vendor was situated just out the rusted gates of the Church. Pausing for only a minute or two the miko had acquired a bounty of red roses. They were similar in breed to what her mother, Hino Risa had planted so long ago. Rei gently freed a singular long stemmed rose, lifting it to her nostrils. The fragrance was subtle, just like her mother liked them to be. Cradling the free rose in the palm of her able hand, the miko traversed the massive expanse of the Church grounds. It was amazing how well she knew this place after being gone so long.
Her head still carried a gentle throb – another aggravating episode would do more than set it off. But at least here, nothing would go wrong. Rei’s feet carried her towards the rear of the massive edifice. Rounding the corner, Rei had to reel herself backward before she was seen. Suddenly, the headache formed into something a bit more excruciating to bear. Pressing her back against the mossy kissed walls of the Church the miko carefully stole a more scrutinizing look upon the intruder at her mother’s grave.
Shit.
The star sat there clearing the debris from her mother’s grave. Rei couldn’t understand why. Rei hadn’t mentioned anything in regards to her mother to Minako. But there she sat, conversing as if it were the simplest thing to do. As if she had the passage of right to immerse herself in other’s lives.
As if she’s always belonged there.
The auburneqsue haired woman tendered forth a gentle smile over her lips. Soft, blushed colored lips that spoke words to the miko’s long dead mother. Rei swore she heard the gentle trill of her mama’s laughter ring over the caress of wind that had blanketed the cemetery.
Oh. NOW they’re sharing secrets.
Minako’s lips parted once more – her hands were clasped together as if in prayer. God, everything about her was perfect! PERFECT. She lived a charmed existence, adoring fans, with a voice of an angel and someone that she chose to spend her life with. To Rei – Minako was someone that was elevated from a mortal existence to that of a Goddess, the icon was always a different breed from her. Though in their younger years, Rei stood a better chance at touching the divine than now.
The dark haired priestess watched as Minako continued to pray. Not long before those lips were tainted with her lover’s own. Sinfully perfect lips. The recent memory was ingrained in Rei. Images of their bodies entwined sent the miko’s mind seething.
How dare she come here...
Stepping from the shadows, Rei quietly made her way to the grave.
“I didn’t know stars prayed,” spat the dark haired priestess. As if she were removed from her earthly form, Rei heard her voice – deep, grating. Accusatory.
Minako didn’t move. All for the better – one look from the starlet and Rei knew she would have decimated into pure nothingness. It was difficult enough to just to be near her shadow. Rei’s head wouldn’t stop screaming. Her body moved on its own accord, drawing herself closer to the icon. Something she logically had not wanted to do. Rei was just alongside her now. Her nostrils flared with the tiniest hint of Minako’s scent. It was an intoxicating stew of Chamomile and Lavender. She wondered how her natural scent contrasted.
Sparing no glance to the worldly star, Rei affixed her eyes on the weathered stone placemarker of her mother’s final resting place, “Mama, gomenasai – Some people have no concept of ‘rest in peace’.”
There was a sharp inhalation of breath – Minako’s breathing had quickened. That was the only thing Rei heard. Had her tongue failed the Singer?
Give me more than this, Songbird – I deserve more than just sharing the same time and the same air with you...
Finally, Rei’s gaze slid to her right appraising Minako carefully. The Singer’s hands were married together in nervous fashion. Irritably, Rei stabbed the freed rose she still held, towards Minako. “Bearing no gifts as well...Is that an American way of thinking? Here – The least you can give her – my mother’s favorite.”
Minako took the bait – Rei had to be careful, she didn’t want to be burned by the Singer’s touch. She didn’t want to share Minako’s flesh with the residue of the icon’s lover still freshly clinging to Minako’s supple skin. Rei rose to her feet turning herself around, at this point the Singer would have said something...anything to warrant a rebuttal on her behalf. Yet Minako remained composed.
So unlike her. But...you hardly know her now Rei.
In blinding lividness, Rei murmured out, “Am I that below you that you won’t speak to me...” the miko trailed, afraid to say her name – even just a whisper of it would betray her. But the decision wasn’t hers. The Fates were against her today, her lips formed the taboo name before she knew what happened, “...Minako,” much to the miko’s bewilderment the Singer’s name felt comfortable flowing from her. Like it fit hand to glove.
Minako sputtered her reply. First blood drawn. Rei felt sated – she wasn’t the only one affected by this impromptu meeting. A ghost of a smirk drew onto her countenance. Tit for tat, both women spoke for the first time in years. For Rei, she was empowered – Each counter she gave had seemingly touched a frayed nerve in the singer. The conversation wasn’t noteworthy until the end...
Both women finally had turned to face the other. Rei was taken aback. But far be it from her to show it. Minako had surpassed the title of her senshi alt. She had become the Goddess of Beauty. Even behind the guise of her outing wear Aino Minako failed in hiding that fact. It took all of her composure to not buckle before the woman. The miko used her own helplessness at Minako’s hands, to fuel her simmering anger.
Minako had always been Rei’s weakness. And this...Rei couldn’t have.
“...Or is this your expert opinion,” hissed the miko in finality. Another wound inflicted but this time about, the Minako of old surfaced.
“If you need mental assessment, fine I’ll pay for your treatment. But...I’m already late as it stands,” Rei burrowed her intense gaze unto the singer, unrelenting – none the less, Minako had fired back, “If you can weed out which persona is more sociable – you’re welcomed to join the rest of us. If not...” commented the singer.
Rei should have negated the invitation. Pride be damned.
--
Now...at the park...
He was the type of student that upperclassmen fed on – A half breed, they would call him. Not quite dark chocolate, not quite vanilla wafer – Just another product of interracial genes; an outcast. Meek and studious – he was marked as the uncool. Cheerleaders would pass him in the hallways of Roosevelt High School and literally looked through him – to them, he was naught but a phantom. His only escape then was the love of anime and Japanese Pop. Especially the Pop-music of an up and coming idol that JUST touched the shores of the United States at that time. Terry had obsessed over her since the feverish hit C’est La Vie took the globe by storm.
Terry made a promise to himself after watching one of her very first interviews. She loved athletics the translator had said and she couldn’t settle for anything less than the goals she had set for herself. Aino Minako would always surpass herself.
So would he.
Now...he was sinewy, well toned – a perfect machine suited for the grid iron. Light brown eyes danced to and fro – looking from one opponent to the next. They didn’t stand a chance. Terry knew. Skinnier and untrained, he would own them. He regarded the especially nervous, wiry one to his right. Motoki, so he was called. Makoto’s fiancée. Terry promised the pony-tailed Japanese woman that he wouldn’t hurt him...much. The guy needed some schooling though. Terry took it upon himself to help those he felt, were people just like he was...Helpless.
“Blue 43...blue 43, hut...hut...HUT!”
Terry doubled back and as he planned his receivers arced wide, evading their would be blockers. It was an XX versus XY chromosome battle, Ami had been planted on Motoki instead of Makoto. Otherwise the man wouldn’t have his wits about him. He had to admit, the good doctor was quick. Still...Terry had to try for it.
He pumped once...Twice...he had to hurry, Usagi managed to throw Mamoru off breaking through the line. Her arms were flailing madly. Terry found himself in trouble. Digging his fingers into the Nerf football, the mulatto let it loose.
Usagi vaguely unaware of what was going on down the field only had one thought. Tackle. She put every energetic reserve into it...but only served with her just bouncing off Terry’s solid form. Landing upon her rear, the young mother let a whimpered, “Itai!” out.
The Football player blinked down to the source, “Oh shit! Usagi, you okay?”
As he extended his hand to her, he heard Mamoru let out an exalted cry – He looked up, fist pumping into the Japan crisp afternoon sky. Motoki had caught the ball; but he had been tackled by Ami soonafter. Of course the very hand that was offered to aid Usagi had gone away, sending the odango headed woman back to the earth with an unceremonious thud.
He grit his teeth offering a slew of apologies now affording his attentions back onto Usagi. She politely shook her head, telling him it was okay – He loved the Japanese for this, it’s the customary niceties that made him fall deeper in love with the country. The rest of the group jogged their way back. Mopping his face with a massive paw, the clean-shaven Football star glanced to the timepiece hugging his wrist, “Almost time for lunch – break?”
“Yeah, good a time as any – we’re about to beat you all anyway,” chortled Mamoru.
“You haven’t even scored yet!”
“Dunno ‘bout that Usagi,” corrected Makoto, canting her head towards the baby-bouncer with ChibiUsa nested in its center, “Mmm...I think he already did.”
“Mako-chan!”
The tall woman grinned devilishly. Motoki lobbed the ball towards Terry who in turn caught it with practiced ease.
“Good goin’ buddy – now y’got somethin’ else t’brag about other than your Turtle collection,” jibed Terry. But after a moment or two, the mulatto glanced towards his watch, all before feeling a gentle hand come to rest on his forearm. Usagi was grinning up to him.
“She’s a big girl you know, Terry-chan.”
“Yeah, I know, just ain’t never gotten used to bein’ apart from her.”
With a consolatory smile, Usagi offered, “It hurts being apart for even a little while...but...you know she’ll always come back to you. I can see that Minako-chan cares for you deeply.”
At that, Terry rubbed at the butt of his chin, nodding in affirmation – grateful for the reassurance, “You speak the truth, thanks shorty.”
Hooking her arms about one of Terry’s own, she tugged him towards the rest of the group, already nestled in place upon the portable tatami mats Ami had brought along.
“GOOD! You have to try a new recipe that I learned from my mother. Cuttle fish omlette cakes!”, proudly announced the domesticated Usagi.
But even before he could offer verbal ye or nay to the exotic, albeit maybe poisonous morsel, not too far in the distance a very audible slamming of a vehicle door resounded towards their direction. Curious gazes drifted towards the source.
“What in the...”
The sun beat down on the party relentlessly, but the weather was still rather cool. Despite that, Terry had to use the flat of his hand to shade his eyes. Two figures ambled towards the lot, obviously bickering amongst themselves. At some point they had stopped and turned to face one another.
“...That’s not changed,” remarked Mamoru.
“Whozat?”
“Minako’s best friend.”
“You’re...kidding right? They’re about to gorge each other’s eyes out.”
“Differences make for good spark.”, shrugged Mamoru, “They were close a long while ago. They never had a sense of peace between them...Their relationship had always been, raw.”
Terry nodded slowly.
A high pitched squeal erupted from the picnic cloth, Usagi and the two others were besides themselves, calling out for their companions. The hulking male kept his gaze affixed on the two newly arrived women. He was inwardly glad at Minako’s arrival, but that dark haired woman, the one with the intense gaze. She rubbed him the wrong way. The girls eventually having reacquainted themselves, wended their way back to the epicenter. He caught the latter half of the conversation.
“...And she was as heartless as ever, turning the driver down. He was smitten with her.”
Rei rolled her eyes, “he was a lecher. That’s all there was to it. Besides – he lost his self control as soon as she,” motioning with an errant wave of her hand towards Minako, “Stowed into the cab.”
“Everyone loves themselves some Minako, ain’t that right baby?” Terry joined. His hands quickly sought out the Singer, pulling her immediately to him. He received a chaste kiss in greeting before he asked, “So...who’s your friend.” Terry’s gaze turned onto Rei. “Thought I met all the family members...” He lifted his mammoth hand and eased it forth.
Minako looked from Terry towards Rei, murmuring softly, “Terry Lapps...” there was a purposely placed pause, slight as it was. Terry heard the hitch in Minako’s voice. Something had made the Singer uncomfortable. And the only change was the newest entrant into the party.
“My...Rei”, Minako fumbled – recovering quickly, “...My friend Rei, Rei Hino,” finally afforded Minako, in a quick utterance at best.
To Terry, his lover seemed, distracted for some odd reason. It worried him. His eyes regarded Rei, his hand still outstretched. The raven-haired woman was very attractive, a sort of tomboyish sort of appeal, unlike the femininity Minako portrayed. She glanced to the hand before delicately, yet firmly grasping his. An odd sort of jolt rocked through his hand. A tingle.
“Pleased,” replied Rei in English.
“Coo’...coo’...”, murmured Terry in reply – relaxing into his American twang. Pulling back, he clapped his hands together, “We’re about to eat – if you’re up for it, we could play some ball after,” now fully neglecting the Japanese dialect as he continued to speak to Rei.
Rei shrugged casually and nodded, “I’m game.”
“Great.” Lacing his thick digits with Minako’s dainty ones, he pulled her towards a little patch of grassy knoll. A plate was already prepared for the both of them to share. As she settled herself, Terry glanced up catching Minako side-eyeing Rei. Who had settled along side Ami. “You okay babe?”
Minako plucked a piece of cheese from the paper plate that he was offering, “Mm? Nothing, just...a bit distracted. The crew called?”
Terry nodded, “Yeah, they checked into a hotel an hour ago, gonna do some soundchecks tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”
Licking her fingers free of excess, Minako nodded, “Good, glad.” Her eyes once more searched. Finding their target, Terry’s own latched onto the victim.
Rei now had moved towards the babbling baby, the miko’s eyes had flickered towards Minako as well. As soon as their eyes met, both had looked away.
“...you sure you’re friends?”
“What?”
“You and she. You two were getting into it leaving that cab.”
“She was just being Rei.”
“And that means?”
Minako laughed uneasily, “I’m sorry – Rei’s a private person, I was questioning her too much, pushed her, I suppose.”
“On?”
The star shrugged, thumbing a blade of grass at her feet – finding it utterly fascinating before she tendered out a reply, “I...asked her why she hadn’t written or called me, that’s all.”
“And she said...?”
“She shrugged” Another unsteady laugh, “Typical reply for her,” murmuring before she lifted her eyes to regard her lover.
That was the first time Minako had lied to him. He had the utmost faith that she would tell him the truth when she was ready. For now, he let the issue drop. His eyes traveled to rest on the raven headed woman, just across the way. She had the child nestled on her lap, spoon feeding her; Rei had transformed herself from that wary eyed bitch...to a cooing fool.
At that moment, Terry Lapps decided – he didn’t like Hino Rei much and someone...had to take her down a notch.
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