“Tell me no lies…xi”
It started out as a day filled with the unknown. The kind of unknown that was wrought with anticipation berthed at heralding of a new day. Beginning as meager tingles of electricity, something…was going to happen, they all tasted it in the air. The day progressed in amazing cinematic fashion; screenplay writers couldn’t have imagined a better romantic feature than this. Two friends, lost in the swirl of time, reunited – getting reacquainted.
Suddenly…
They shared a single breath….
…sandwiched between heated….
…Searing….
….Kisses and ravenous touches.
Among the hushed whispers of want, emotions were brought to the brink; not only for the participants but for the observers as well, for one anyway. Makoto peered upwards and was met with deep and reverberating chocolate orbs. She had remembered being on the receiving end of Rei’s gaze once before. They were at odds then over Usagi’s study habits – or lack there of . There were no doubts in Makoto’s mind, she and the fire priestess will be at odds again.
“…Let me guess, you had to hold her hand for her to use the toilet, Makoto. Such a friend.”
Rei’s voice was unnervingly calm. Uneasiness settled over everyone.
Makoto began to untangle herself from Usagi who, with the aid of the now knelt Minako, began to whine piteously, complaining of her bruised knees. She had noticed that Usagi did all she could to keep her eyes averted from the heated miko. Lifting herself from the pile-up the tallest one time senshi of Thunder, dusted herself free of debris before easing herself between Rei and Usagi – an added distance from Rei’s hands wrapping about Usagi’s slender throat. A familiar thought that often traversed Makoto’s mind.
The miko canted her head as her eyes swept to read Makoto’s features, thusly met with a soft reply from her friend, “…It’s not her fault.”
“Guilty?”
“….Don’t you start, Rei.”
“I’m not the one sneaking behind my friend’s back…am I,” It was a comment, an unforgiving one.
She couldn’t just stand there and take the ‘blame’, but in hindsight, she should have. Makoto’s ire had risen, angered with a touch of embarrassment for having been found and even more so being on the receiving end of Rei’s stark, accusatory aloofness. Her hair follicles felt as if they were on fire while her skin tingled with warmth – Was this how it was for the priestess? Feeling that uncontrolled rage?
“If you just stopped playing this stupid – ‘Woe-is-me’ game, we wouldn’t have to…”
“What, Makoto?” injected Rei venomously, “Butt into my own business?” Her eyes swam with near double vision as her own simmering anger boiled to a climax. Rei darted her gaze towards Usagi, “What the hell did you think you were doing? I was handling things just FINE.”
Usagi recoiled into herself as soon as the rage was directed unto her.
“Right,” spat Makoto, coming to the aid of her princess, “SO fine that you were going to give up your virginity to someone who’s already with someone else, lacking morals much, priestess? Though…you wouldn’t have a problem with it, would you. Seeing how you’re really not with anyone, right?”
Minako furrowed her brow in askance letting her confused gaze dance from Usagi, Makoto…and finally, Rei, “…What?”
Usagi’s breath fizzled from her lungs, deflating herself immeasurably, begging the tall brunette to stop under bated breath. Makoto clenched her teeth before realizing that the slew of words, were being spewed from her lips. She couldn’t bite them back. But on the same token – there was a sense of satisfaction at drawing first blood from the temperamental miko before her.
Red clouded her gaze, as the heat of shame crawled over her earlobes. Rei hadn’t expected for her falsification to stutter out like this, in the heat of an unsuspected confrontation. With a trusted friend no less…
Makoto didn’t know how to stop, despite knowing she should. “Oh…did she fail to tell you Minako-chan? I’m sure she did. After all, her mouth was busy with other things. About Isabelle Rose…”
Minako gently rested her hand on Rei’s shoulder, in an attempt to bring the fiery priestess back; for the miko…the weight alone of the Songbird’s grasp decimated her resolve, but her following words spiraled Rei into nothingness.
“…Did…did you lie to me…Rei?”
“Yeah, she did, Minako-chan,” continued Makoto, treading further into dangerous territory, “Isabelle Rose was made…”
Before the final syllable was uttered, Makoto’s head had snapped to the right. The impact didn’t hurt her, not in the beginning because of the adrenaline being pumped through her veins. But as she cupped her cheek the dull throb began to overwhelm Makoto’s initial shock. Her cheek was burning and she felt the underlying tissue begin to grow taut – a bruise will soon form, she knew it. Makoto had been in one too many fights in her long gone childhood to not know the symptoms. Up until that point…the confrontation was a blur – but it was then that everything came into clarity.
Usagi and Minako’s voices were distant, but she could tell they were stricken with utter panic, their hands helped to steady her. Hazel colored eyes glistened with saline as they affixed on the miko’s back, witnessing the raven headed woman hurriedly leaving the restroom – no more words were needed.
Rei’s arms had been tucked into her body as the biting cold of winter’s breath bathed a lonely welcome once she stepped from the warmth of the restroom. She hobbled along picking up her pace with nary a second glance backward to the others. Rei nursed not only her wounded pride, but her leg…and now…the back of her hand which stung mercilessly. She had to admit the outcome was something she hoped to attain.
Makoto had finally shut her mouth.
-
His day finally ended as soon as he clicked off the illumination for his Taxi services. Now…he could finally return to the more important aspects of his livelihood.
Being close to his Fiery Angel.
The watcher hunted and found her at this absurd monkey-like atmosphere of course his white lie to that imbecilic owner of the Crown helped his search for her. It was along the lines of…returning to his Angel, a purse that was left in his cab. Gratefully, without need of more convincing the Crown owner pointed him here. Bewildered as to why she would be here, his answer came as a surprise. His Angel had an engagement with a stickly looking woman. A friend. No immediate threat…
He waited. Patiently. There would be a time where his Angel would be left alone. Then he would ask her again to share a day with him and he alone. But it never came. she was stuck, probably against her will, alongside that anorexic tart. And it upset him.
Then his patience, though worn thin was assuaged, because….there, she finally appeared. Done with the necessities of the restroom his Angel hobbled out. She looked different…upset.
Who would do that to you, my Angel…
Absently he saw her rankle her way towards the Taxi stand. Fate had brought them together once more. Tearing himself from the comfort of his vehicle, the lanky man plowed his way towards his intended…He had to hurry to rescue her, because none to soon…that thin slut of a woman his Angel was with, tore from the ladies’ restroom.
He was behind her now, not only many times her senior, but he towered over her, in effect blocking his Angel from prying eyes. Tentatively, his fingertips reached out…drumming gently against the small of her back. It was enough.
Rei whirled about, her eyes shone with irritance then instant recognition. “Ishikawa-san. What are you…?”
“Working, miss. You need a ride, yes?”
Even among the shrilly yowls of excitable children about her, the tinny of Minako’s voice was heard. A distant tickle blanketing her ears. She couldn’t face her…Not now, maybe not even ever. Daring not to look towards the source of those desperate cries of her name, begging her to come back, Rei’s jaw set looking towards the cabbie.
“Yes…yes…”
“Where to,” he managed to contain his excitement. His Angel recognized him!
“…Just take me the hell away from here.”
At her command, he whisked her towards his cab. Saving her from this existence. Now would be the time, Kami willed it so, time for him to confess everything to her. No woman had ever held this type of sway over him…
Not like his Fiery Angel.
-
“So - where the fuck is she.”
The novelty wore out perhaps…an hour, or maybe two, ago – and he swore under his breath if Minako hadn’t hurried herself up, there would be a pile of mountainous flesh smattered all over the floor of this rather, pretty stage. Not his flesh, obviously. Terry Lapps wouldn’t know how to kill a roach if he had to. Terry was just one tightly wound muscle of tension. Pity, it could have been eased with just one romp with the pianist – hetero men never knew what they were missing.
Zoicite though, remained composed. Lazily he twirled a singular strand of his immaculate silver mop about his index finger mockingly mouthing Terry’s incessant, linear demands. Exhaling softly, the pianist slighted his head towards the left, lifting his ghostly orbs to the handsome football player.
“School must have been difficult for you.”, oozed the maestro effortlessly.
Rubbing the nape of his neck, Terry gave pause, he surpassed that particular patience threshold. Not that he had any for anyone else, sans Minako. With tongue in cheek, the wide receiver drew his lofty frame ram-rod stiff, burrowing his eyes on to the flaming idiot before him.
“Suckin’ on too much spooge, Fairy – th’ hell you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“It does a Boi’s body good, no?” A smirk, “Now there’s the difference, my American toy – maybe you need to suck your own fair share? May help with your memories, because they’re shot to bloody hell, love.” Tiredly Zoicite added, “But because your mind is equivalent to that of a Squid’s, I shall reiterate…Minako’s at a meeting…”
“Ain’t no meeting that lasts this long, you’re lyin’. Try again,” sniped Terry.
Crisp clacks echoed on the stage, and a voice rang out – it was ragged, anxiety stricken, “He may be a few things, but a liar, is not one of them…it just ended, Terry.” Minako’s eyes slipped onto her long time archrival and brother, “Thank you Zoicite – for keeping him company.”
“The pleasure was all mine, honey. Curiosity bites me though – How’d your meeting go?” questioned the silver haired man with much mirth.
She prepared herself for it. At least Minako thought she did – the Songbird knew it was coming. It was just the nature of the beast for a curios fellow like Zoicite. But amongst busying herself with gathering her things, her haphazard grasp caused a plethora of papers to spill and pool about her feet, “it…was a meeting.”
“Oh how vague. Good, bad?…Intense?”
Minako’s mind flashed to Rei’s assaulting lips. God, how she craved them over her flesh again. Her hands shook at the next memory. Her would-be lover lashed out at Makoto, blemishing their friend’s face with one blow.
Then there was the lie.
Was it hurt she was feeling? Or was it pure…astonishment. Her countenance must have portrayed a different tale to Rei. Because in that instant the woman ran from her, again. That arrested Minako and knifed her deeper than the calculated lie. Actions spoke louder than words, so the ancient cliché went. Rei’s action suggested…this pursuit was nothing but a flight of fancy blessed with little idle touches. A passing lover – something she should be used to. But…Minako had to have more than just…this affair.
“Minako-chan?” prompted Zoicite.
“…I’ll have to meet one more time with her. There were things we hadn’t met eye to eye about,” she hurriedly said, breaking from her reverie.
The silver haired maestro wasn’t the only one hanging on Minako’s every word. Terry caught the slip, even when the singer wasn’t aware of her absent-minded mistake. Pulling himself from the shadows cast ominously on the stage, the Football star stopped short at Minako’s back; he found his thick digits raking through the singer’s silk, hair.
“If you had the time, baby, maybe – But…you don’t,” murmured Terry. Minako could have sworn there was a trace of poison surfing between the words he uttered.
Minako’s throat constricted, skimming her eyes over Zoicite who was every bit as discombobulated as she was, “Honey…” she tested delicately in her wavering American English, “If you’re worried about the concert… there’s plenty of time, I can schedule my meetings between rehearsals and,”
Terry laughed as he brought his petting to a halt, interrupting Minako’s words, “That’s funny babe,” he began sarcastically, “But your manager agreed with me when I spoke with him earlier t’day; y’ain’t had enough rehearsal time, especially now with the concert’s date being moved up from the end of the month to next weekend, we’re leaving the week after,” paused Terry.
Minako blankly looked to her lover.
“What? Why so soon? I can’t just up and leave, Terry that’s impossible – I …I have things I need to finish, that need…m-my attention”
“Can’t be that important, otherwise…you wouldn’t be here, right now…with me, just like you promised you would be.”
Terry started to trace the thought-lines coursing over Minako’s brow. It was her chance to answer, to tell him. What exactly?
I…have to know…she haunts me…I can’t stop…
I can’t love you…don’t force me to love you…
But her voice was muted. Nothing worked in her.
The truth of it was they had made a life together and somewhere in her, she still cared deeply for Terry. Just what was she trying to prove here? Who was she proving herself to?
Rei.
Would she risk everything she’s built for herself for the unknown…For a woman that runs hot and cold in tandem, could she live with the unpredictability?
When no answer came, Terry grunted, tugging her attentions back to where they belonged, with him…To him.
He smiled fleetingly, gripping the back of Minako’s head firm and tugging it backward; till to what Zoicite observed, was liken to that of an erotic portrait of a dominant master to his slave. Minako’s body was positioned on her knees; her hair swept up in a fist and gripped by the Football player. Her back arched as he lowered his head to impart a ferocious kiss on her.
The silver haired pianist immediately darted from his seat, knowing exactly what Terry was doing. He knew that Terry hoped to have tasted the betrayal of whoever Minako had met with, still clinging to the Singer’s lips.
Peeling himself from his prone girlfriend, the hulking male opened his eyes, letting his calloused thumb beat for a few moments over Minako’s lower lip, “Vanilla.” He announced gruffly, “Different taste,” he paused and softly said. “C’mon, get up...time for me, to take care of you.”
The Football star was livid, Minako knew. He had never lifted a hand to her, never really rose his voice to her, but by his set jaw, furrowed brow and lowered voice he was suffering in quiet repose. Hurt and anger stationed in her young lover. Guilt traveled mercilessly through the Singer.
With that uttered, Terry hefted Minako to her feet. She had about as much mobility as a rag-doll, noted Zoicite. In nothing less than a batting of an eye, he had witnessed the Singer relinquish herself again to the player’s subtle manipulative whim. To him, it was worse than a physical abuse. At least physically…one had the chance to recover. Emotionally, the scar would be deeply rooted and would last for a lifetime. He would know. He had given everything of himself to one man in his life. But the affection remained of that comparative to an owner loving his pet dog so his loyalty and love was rewarded with a Scooby Snack.
He won’t see that happen to his sister.
“Minako,” iterated Zoicite firmly, yet musically, “Why don’t we girls have us a slumber, mm? It’s been much too long since we’ve tittered away…come with?”
“…She’s not up for it, Fruit-Fly,” stated Terry flatly.
“My GOD man, had I known you wanted to have gender reassignment, I would have recommended a fabulous doctor to you,” a pause, “…You, though, really should clean out those ears of yours Hercules, I was talking to Mina-chan. Be somewhat of a good boy, and let her answer…” Zoicite gutturally mewled out before slighting his gaze towards Minako.
She inwardly winced at the sudden tightening on her hand. Terry immediately let her know his feelings. Minako’s mind cartwheeled to catch up with her mouth to no avail. It was an automatic response, precision practiced and delivered with sincerity and a splash of regret. A perfect stew of lies.
“…I’m sorry, I already have something planned for tonight. Raincheck?”
Zoicite heard the same line one too many times; with each delivery of it he just shook his head in disdain and acquiesced. This time he simply burrowed his gaze onto Minako speaking crisply,
“When you finally break those strings, puppet…Call me.”
Almost whispered, but none the less enunciated, announced and left to ponder on. Zoicite then turned on his planted heel and exited the dimly lit stage.
-
She had been home for only a couple of minutes and was greeted with the obnoxious ringing of her telephone. Her head tilted comfortably nestling her ear against the earpiece. A repeat performance from earlier in the day; she listened with absolute patience to her friend’s frantic regaling of what occurred naught but an hour or so ago.
“…As long as it’s been iced she’ll hurt less.”
“Ami-chan! Didn’t you just hear what I said?” pleaded the now hoarsely voiced woman.
“Every word, Usagi-chan.”
“And?”
“This is the effect of your meddling…the both of you should have realized there would be consequences.”
A dejected, regretful sigh was imparted, “I know…I know…”
Ami left the comfort of her plush seat, unhooking her sandals. Normally, she would have been a bit more compulsive in how her wears were scattered about her apartment. But since her breakup with a certain uppity man, Ami hadn’t felt the need to be particularly anal about herself. No one was watching. Not that anyone ever watched the good girl. Even to her best friends had labeled her in some way, be it voiced or subtle.
Quiet.
Steadfast.
Brilliant.
All those monikers were well founded. Perhaps that’s why no one really noticed the change that berthed in the woman. She thought herself resolute, independent…a woman that had grown out of her shell. In that, she still loved when her friends ran to her – it gave her…a nice power complex. A sin – prideful one at that. Despite growing as a person though, there are certain aspects in her life she would have rather shared with that someone special.
Nephrite wasn’t that person. A scoff rang in her inner mind – How she ever came to align herself with him, was purely to quell those teenaged hormones, granted…he was passionate where peeping eyes were never meant to spy. Brooding, temperamental…he made for a lacking lover, emotionally. Ami had been glad she had ended it. She was done with trifling with the trials of love. It was… a waste of time. She hoped, at least…
“…Where do you think she…hold on Ami…” The phone had gone muffled, but not completely so as she then heard nondescript sounds tumbling from the earpiece. Apparently, Motoki-kun hadn’t taken kindly to the fact that his fiancé looked as is she ran into Rei’s fist no more than 5 times – without putting up a fight. Usagi returned sounding out of breath.
“...I take it Motoki-kun’s a little upset?”
“Slightly, can you imagine him wanting to duel Rei-chan?”
Ami chuckled.
“Exactly. Mako-chan’s trying to calm him now,” explained Usagi. Ami heard her friend shuffle off to an adjoining room no less, as she, helped herself to a flute of wine which had been calling her name ever since this day began. “…Anyway.”
The doctor swirled her glass breathing in the alcohol, before sipping it languidly. Sparing a glance to her veiled windows, Ami noted a set of distorted, yet glaring lights cut through the gloom of the suddenly rainy day. Moving her way towards her window, the demure woman pushed her curtains back. Pressed against the side of a cab someone was in the rain, soaked to the bone, looking directly at her maybe even through her. Her body involuntarily quaked from the weight of those haunting eyes.
“…Ami-chan? You broke up for a little there, did you hear me?”
“Mm…”
Ami quickly set her flute aside, her hand tentatively gripped her brass door knob. All those little nerves from her old self quarreled forth. For no apparent reason. Or…was there? Turning the knob, the door moaned open.
“…Well? Would you have any idea where Rei-chan would have run to?”
This had been the second time she had felt any worth to herself, ironically it had been the day she ran away, to the Crown with the very person that now graced her doorstep. Meeting her visitor’s gaze, Ami moved from the doorway, giving wide entry to the woman before her.
“…No, I’m sorry Usagi-chan, I can’t help you,” answered Ami.
“Ah…soo…well…” click
She tossed the now silent cordless phone onto the nearest empty lounge seat. Quietly, Ami closed the door to her apartment.
“You hung up on her.” There was a sort of underlying hint of laughter clinging on the raven headed woman’s dulcet tone. It caused the slightly younger woman to afford a shy smile to dance over her lips.
“Hai,” softly replied the doctor. She lifted her gaze. Ami’s simple movement drew her companion’s attention on to her. “She’ll forgive me in time. Or forget. Either way – I’m not in that much trouble. But I can’t say the same for you…”
“…My hand hurts.”
Ami nodded slowly. “I’ve always known Mako-chan had thick bone structure,” chuckled the demure woman.
Rei shrugged, still cradling her hand. She seemed transfixed at the sudden coloring of her knuckles; idly the miko prodded at her flesh, wincing each time. It was that whole psychological surreal aspect. Rei couldn’t believe she had done what she did, pressing on the injury made the woman realize the gravity of it all.
“It was instinctive,” quipped Rei quietly, “Makoto wouldn’t shut her mouth…and Minako…”, desperately her fingers flexed, working their circulation all the while throbbing with sharp pains.
“Dwelling on this, will bring you nothing more than what ifs…so don’t do it. It happened. And the now is here…what will you do now?”
“I don’t need this cryptic bullshit, Ami.”
“And I won’t spoon feed your brattyness,” came Ami’s insipid reply. Rei was mute. No surprise. But the look in the miko’s gaze sung volumes. The raven haired goddess was impressed with Ami’s sudden ironhide.
The once senshi of wisdom wended her way towards her adjacently placed kitchen, she felt Rei’s gaze touch her for a moment before that sensation of being watched, faded. Signaling the woman that it was all right to let loose the breath that was held in her lungs. Ami grabbed an insta-cold pack from her freezer, then, returned to her guest lobbing the iced object onto Rei’s outstretched hand.
“Arigato.”
“Have you decided?”
Rei turned her head from Ami. For what seemed like an eternity the silence was drawn out. She buried her face into the netting of her palm and fingers. A hollow, depressed laced voice echoed in the room. It pleaded with Ami for some sort of deliverance.
“…I…I want her Ami. I can’t get rid of her touch, I can’t not breathe without her, but the way she looked at me and asked if…I lied…” she paused for only a beat, exhaling, “God…her smell…her kisses…everything.”
The doctor had been glad she was drinking, it not only kept her warm from the stabbing instances of cold, but it helped to numb her. Her mind free fell back to a time that conveyed pure innocence under the guise of teen rebelliousness. They were barely breaking into their prime teenaged years, but as it stood it’s always been engrained for every burgeoning youth reaching that time in their lives to be angst ridden.
Ami had attained a point that her sterile relationship with her mother began to degrade. She was the child of one of Japan’s more prominent medical citizens. Expectations were imminent. Till the day, that is – Ami had begun running with an uncouth band of girls. She needed to make a choice. Living up to her mother’s desires or…her own. So Ami chose.
And she ran into an ally. Someone SO different from her it was like Ice and Fire trying to coexist in the same room – a very small room, they had nothing in common. Rei had an estranged relationship with her father, quite honestly, the miko looked as if she had strained relationships with anyone that came into contact with her…
The day came when the Crown served more than just a meeting place. It became a safe haven and home. It was here also, that Fire and Ice joined. It was amazing for Ami, to have found a special kinship with Hino Rei. They shared a night with no inhibitions between them. Ami learned to be a teenager then, as she’s sure Rei did as well. Because soon after, a quiet understanding developed - berthed by being at the side of the miko that night.
But it came to pass that Aino Minako – the supreme idol, had wedged herself into Rei’s soul. It was also Aino Minako, that shattered it at the same time. And it stood true that Aino Minako, simply ruled the globe with just a tendered flash of that cupid lipped smile.
Some girls…have all the luck.
“...Does she feel the same? Could you look past the lust and find what you want reciprocated in her eyes?”
Rei glanced over her shoulder briefly towards the composed doctor, nursing a near empty goblet of red wine. Immediately, her mind reeled to that moment – Minako begged her breathlessly. She was wanton. The burning, the need…it was real. But…
Rei looked away.
“I… don’t know.”
“Soo.”
“Are you that against me, Ami,” softly replied Rei. Ami didn’t provide her answer.
With her head hung low, the miko failed to realize her friend and confidant ghosted her way from her seat. Ami crossed the carpeting with little or no sound, effortlessly. So with that, her splayed fingertips pushed back the curtain of hair from Rei’s face, tucking a healthy swath of her bangs behind an ear. But grasped within her freed hand, Ami offered the remnants of her bottled reserve of Chilean wine.
Rei’s eyes stung with a familiar saline wetness and her hands almost too eagerly snatched the bottle from Ami, “new drug?”
“Revolutionary prescription. As your attending physician – I suggested you take it.”
Ami unceremoniously plopped herself alongside Rei as she drank. She chuckled as the woman’s face screwed up while the warmth of the liquor coursed Rei’s slender throat. Gently the doctor reached over and pulled the rim of the bottle from the miko’s cherry colored lips, “Easy, slowly…there…”
“warm…”
“Hai, helps to…whittle away the cold.”
Unused to the induction of alcohol in her system, Rei began to slip into the effects of the drug. Her limbs grew heavy while her lips tingled, yet ached for another swig. Wrestling the bottle from Ami’s laxed grip, Rei down another healthy swallow, in effect…polishing off the remains. The miko’s rage suddenly sparked alive, consuming her. Rei’s grip about the bottle’s neck grew taut. Barely a fluttering of an eye counted the tick of time as then…the wine bottle was sent hurtling through the air, smashing itself against Ami’s bureau. The impact toppled a black lacquered group picture of the five women. The doctor…hardly cringed; she expected this reaction.
Soft sobs tore past Rei’s lips, babbling a raggedly pieced apology. “I…don’t know what the fuck I’m doing Ami…I don’t know…”
By her very fingertips, Ami feathered the pads of her digits along Rei’s forearm, beckoning the miko just by mere touch, to her side. Dizzied from the effects of wine Rei’s body still craved that warmth that only a body can give. Listlessly, her form melded to Ami’s side. Arms encased the priestess until she felt her head nestle at the crook of the doctor’s neck and shoulder. Rei felt her lips move, and didn’t realize the words that tumbled from her, until she listened.
“…Why…why are you ag…against me Ami-chan? Not…not good for her…enough - good enough for her,” Rei repeated in a haze.
Little more than a feathered brush of Ami’s lips to her temple was barely noticeable to Rei. She just knew that it was a comforting feeling; knowing that she wasn’t alone. And just before Morpheous spoke whispered lullabies, Ami’s gentle prose poked through her dampened senses.
“It’s not that I’m against you and she.”
Rei mumbled her reply, Ami chuckled and continued to coo, trailing her fingernails through the miko’s hair.
“…I’m against you…getting hurt.”
“But…I…l..love…her.”
“I know,” paused Ami, “I’ve always known…as I know – you’ll risk everything just to be with her. But tonight, let it be me. She’ll have you…every other day, Rei-chan. – just let me…”
Ami glanced to her companion, comrade in arms…friend, who fell fast asleep – and softly, her confession trembled from her lips.
“…have this night.”
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