Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Mended Wing ❯ Mended Wing - Chapter Fourteen ( Chapter 14 )

Author's Notes: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ::the purple tap dancing penguins cower as Sailorcelestial cackles like a mad woman:: AHAHA!! It's done, it's finished, hahahahaahahahaha!! It's short, very short, but at least it's FINISHED! I told you, I promised, didn't I?? Ahem. Enjoy this very short chapter of Mended Wing.

 

Thankies: I don't have time for thankies but here I go anyway! IronRaven! Pleiades-sama! Tensei-chan! Fuuzaki-chan! Satan's Mistress! Unnamed person with good manga whom you people will learn about soon enough! Yeah!

 

Disclaimers: I'm late for work. Insert standard disclaimers here. Don't sue me.

 

 

 

Mended Wing

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Hotaru watched the world slowly come back into focus. Above her floated an angelic face, childlike, surrounded by pale blonde hair. Blue eyes, moist with concern, stared into her own and somewhere in the haze she heard a familiar voice.

“Hotaru-chan, wake up.” A gentle slapping at her cheeks caught her attention. Hotaru opened her eyes fully and the blurred face turned into Quatre. “Hotaru-chan, are you okay?”

Why was she lying on the floor? Only Quatre and Uranus and Neptune had returned from the Moon, she remembered that much. The three had, for some reason, chosen not to return directly to the apartment, instead transporting to the park. Hotaru shook her head, trying to remember the reason. She saw their worried faces gazing at her, so much like their expressions when they walked through the door, right before they had told her—

“Oh gods!”

Endymion. Mamoru. Dead. Their prince, lost to Death alongside their princess. Oh gods, what were they going to do? Would it even matter if they brought Usagi back now? Maybe they should leave her dead; at least that way Serenity and Endymion would be together.

“Hotaru-chan!” Haruka pushed Quatre aside. Hotaru felt the sharp sting of Haruka's slap.

“Haruka-papa . . .”

“The last thing we need is Sailorsaturn in a catatonic state.” The woman stared down her charge, brutally, without regard for Hotaru's feelings. “Sailorpluto is already useless. Without Sailormoon, you are the most powerful of us left. If the others don't succeed, we may need you. We have no idea what's going on or what kind of enemy we're facing.”

“Leave her alone,” Quatre growled, returning Haruka's shove. “Have a little compassion, geez.”

Haruka laughed.

“Oh, that's funny coming from you, Oh Compassionate One.”

“Is the Gate open?” Setsuna stood in the kitchen doorway, hands held closely to her chest like a frightened child. Her maroon eyes were wide as Michiru approached her. “Is the Gate open? I don't wanna go back in the Gate! I don't wanna go back, don't make me go back, please don't make me!”

Michiru took the Guardian in her arms, shushing her and looking at Haruka with wide, helpless eyes. None of them knew what to do, either with Setsuna or with the time they had to wait.

 

 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

 

 

Quatre sat in a restaurant next to the place called Crown Arcade and grumbled into a chocolate milkshake. Hotaru had shown him the place yesterday, the day after his return from the Moon, saying the Senshi used to go there all the time when they were down, or when they simply wanted to meet. From outside, the girl had gazed on the building with eyes filled with all sorts of emotion, ranging from wistfulness to sorrow and from nostalgia to hope. Hotaru wanted the Senshi to meet here again. All of the Senshi.

Quatre didn't know what to think about the whole situation, so he'd come here to try and find a small portion of the happiness Hotaru seemed to glean from this place, and some of the clarity she wore like a robe. Hotaru knew. Even though she had power beyond normal imagining, even though she could destroy this planet with a thought, if the others were to be believed, Hotaru knew her place in life and she knew what she wanted. She wanted to be a photographer. She wanted to be a writer. She wanted to be normal.

Quatre didn't know what he wanted.

Before coming to this place, or this time, he'd wanted nothing more than to die. His life had been meaningless. His family hated him for some reason none of them would say. They only left him alone on an empty colony as though he were some sort of leper they didn't dare touch, either physically or emotionally.

Then time turned backward and he ended up in this strange place with strange people claiming him to be the nasty by-product of someone's meddling with time. He was as he was because some chick in the past named Usagi died when she wasn't supposed to, and her friends wanted to bring her back to life and return everything to normal.

In the face of this, of the possibility of losing who he was, of losing the Quatre Raberba Winner who wanted death above all . . . Quatre found he wanted to live. He desperately wanted to remain the person he was. Perhaps it wasn't really a desire to live, but merely the desire to die as the person he knew. He didn't know that other Quatre, and somehow losing himself like that seemed worse than death. At least with death there would be oblivion. If the Senshi managed to bring back Usagi with this Eye of Hecate thing, assuming the other guys would be able to get it, Quatre wouldn't die, he'd only cease to exist as—

Oh, shut up. You've circled this one thought enough, don't you think?

He shoved the now empty glass across the table and inclined his head forward, lacing fingers through his pale blonde bangs, closing his eyes. In the darkness there flashed a vision of the emerald-eyed boy who smiled so sweetly when he smiled. Quatre sighed, the breath coming out shakily, and his cheeks became wet as his eyes rained on them. Why did that face haunt him? Even at night, when his mind became preoccupied with thoughts of Hotaru a room away, that face came back. Somehow they, the face and Hotaru, became one in his mind, though there were obvious differences. By Allah, he must be really fucked up.

Bells jingled in the background as the restaurant door opened. Quatre's fingers released his hair and he allows his arms to fold and his head to slip downward, forehead resting on his arms. Through the darkness, he felt his breath curling around his face and causing condensation to accumulate on the tabletop. He sat like that, not thinking, not wanting to think, until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Quatre started and lifted his head.

“Hey.” Hotaru smiled gently down at him. “I had to search all over for you, but after a while I figured you didn't know too many places, so narrowed my search to the locations I showed you, as Ami-san would say.” She kept smiling, but the wavering shine in her eyes betrayed her worry for the friend she spoke of.

“Sorry,” he said, “I needed time to think.”

Hotaru just nodded, straightening. She turned to look over her shoulder at the door, then back to him, eyebrows lifting questioningly. Quatre sighed and nodded, taking up his check. At least he had some money. Hotaru had thought to give him some during their excursion the previous day; he hadn't used any then. He paid the check at the front door and the two of them ventured out into the city. Hotaru surprised him when she slipped her arm around his. She didn't even look at him as she did it, as though such an action was as natural as walking. Come to think of it, it felt nice to have a girl walking with him of her own volition. Quatre said nothing.

“Setsuna-san is getting worse.”

The blonde ventured a glance at his companion. She watched the sidewalk as they proceeded, one hand lifted to her lips, fingernail pressed against the bottom lip, teeth poised to bite. Without thinking, Quatre reached forward and tugged her hand away from her mouth. She blinked, turning her face up to his.

“You shouldn't bite your nails. It's a bad habit.”

She smiled.

“Haruka-papa keeps telling me that. I can't help it, though. It's already a nervous habit.”

“Oh, that makes me feel really confident about the fate of the world. One of its protectors bites her nails when she's nervous.” He expected to be yelled at. When she said nothing, for a horrible moment Quatre thought he'd hurt her feelings and she might cry instead. What would he do if she cried?!? Then, incredibly, she laughed.

“Sorry, Quatre-kun. I'll try to curb my nervousness from now on.” Her fingers tightened on his sleeve a bit.

“You do that,” Quatre murmured, thinking back to the bridge and the kiss they shared there. The face of the green-eyed boy flashed behind his eyes, but was quickly drowned by the laughing violet eyes of the girl walking beside him. As they neared the bridge again, for crossing it would lead to Hotaru's apartment, Quatre stopped. Hotaru had no choice but to stop as well, and her mouth quirked with curiosity.

“Quatre-kun, why—“

He stopped her by covering her lips with his. The last kiss had been gentle, and this one started that way, but soon his mouth pressed to hers with something else, something closer to urgency. The haze in his mind parted enough to let him realize Hotaru had not moved since he began the embrace, but it took him several seconds to muddle through enough thoughts and feelings to decide what that might mean. He pulled back and forced his voice to work.

“Hotaru-chan?” The name came out low, without any strength, trembling with waiting for her reply. She blinked at him, letting nothing show in her deep violet gaze. He came close to shaking her, or losing his control in another manner; only incredible willpower on his part kept Hotaru from some sort of assault.

“Come on,” she said finally, taking his hand in her smaller one, “let's go home.”

He followed her.

Later, once all was done beyond undoing, and he lie in Hotaru's bed with her beside him, Quatre stared up at the ceiling and wondered what the green-eyed boy would think of him. Then he wondered why he cared.

After he managed to throw off those questions and fall asleep, Quatre missed the rustle of the sheets next to him and the soft voice murmuring.

“Gomen nasai, Trowa-kun. He needs someone, and you aren't here.”

 

 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

 

 

The days passed. Hotaru found herself lying awake more often than not, mirroring the blank stare of Quatre next to her. Only she wondered about her friends. Nearly a week since the Inner Senshi and the four former pilots had been left on the Moon, and no word or any sort of sign. How long did the challenges take to complete? Did this mean none of them would be returning? What would happen without them?

On the sixth night since her last time seeing her friends, Hotaru rose after Quatre finally drifted to sleep, wrapped one of the blankets around herself, and went into the kitchen to find some solace. Idly, she thought, they should just get it over with and make a flavor of ice cream called Solace.

A sound outside—a loud sound, actually, a bump and a shout—called her attention away from the freezer. Hotaru automatically crouched a little, ready to pounce on anything that came through her door, or to run and get Quatre if it turned out to be something she couldn't handle.

The doorknob began to shake, but she'd locked it that night, and whoever attempted to get in had no luck that way. The muffled curse Hotaru heard sounded familiar, very familiar, but the familiarity in it forced her to disregard it as something born of the late night. After the curse there was silence . . .

. . . until the doorknob, and part of the door surrounding it, exploded inward with the force of the bullet ripping it apart. As Hotaru stumbled back, breathless with shock and fear, the door swung open to reveal a group of eight very familiar people indeed.

“Dude,” said Duo, tossing his braid over his shoulder, “why the fuck was the door locked?!?”

 

 

End Chapter Fourteen.