Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ The Dress ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3

 

-:-

 

“Six hundred dollars.” The burly store clerk grumbled out firmly, crossing his arms over his chest as to show there was no possible way of swaying the offer.

 

Heero sighed heavily as he fiddled with the watch in his hands.

 

It was his father's, the only thing that lingered from his past, the only thing that was proof of something before Perfect Soldier; Heero Yuy. Yes, he hadn't known his parents, or anyone of his family for that matter but this watch…

 

This watch was everything. He had clung to it for so long, so desperately, hoping maybe he could discover who he really was. Maybe something beyond the margins of just a soldier.

 

“Well?” the hefty man questioned, waving six one hundred dollar bills in the air.

 

And now, he was selling it. His last chance of finding himself.

 

“Fine.” the Japanese male mumbled, jutting his hand out and carefully placing the expensive accessory on the counter.

 

At that the cashier grinned with utter satisfaction, handing the brown-haired teen the money while murmuring a curt `thank you.'

 

Heero quickly snatched the bills, turning his heel and making exit of the store.

 

-:-

 

`Danse dans La Clair de Lune'

 

Heero stared up unseeingly at the foreign words written out neatly in white on the store's sign. Then, his gaze fell a little lower to the gown of soft pink in the window of the boutique. It was almost as if it were designed for Makoto, able to expose all her voluptuous curves and contrast to her warm, peach complexion.

 

But three hundred dollars…

 

He shook his head firmly at that, visage hardening with determination as he shoved out his selfish thoughts. This simple gown could wipe away the tire from her pretty face, instead allowing the light within shine through. For once she would not have to worry about the unpaid bills she and her brother shared or wallow in the memories of their deceased parents.

 

And with that in mind, the Japanese youth pushed through the door, silvery bells atop the door jingling to announce his entrance.

 

The saleswoman at the counter, dressed in a very chic two piece pearl white suit, glanced up from the magazine she had been reading to the door. The bright blue eyes beneath the black-rimmed glasses widened considerably at the sight of Heero.

 

It was truly a rarity of a male customer entering her boutique but she quickly shrugged off the astonishment, sitting up and readjusting her spectacles.

 

“Hello sir, how may I help you?”

 

Heero stalked to the sales clerk, placing the money onto the expensive marble counter.

 

“Yes,” he murmured without hesitation.

 

“I'll take that dress in the window.”

 

-:-

 

With an excited grin across her face, Makoto nearly sprinted through the masses of people, a thick wad of notes in her hand.

 

She finally had enough. Three hundred ten dollars, just enough to ensure coverage of the tax.

 

In her rushed blur, she hadn't noticed that the platform she quickly glanced in was empty today. Chiming bells sounded throughout the relevantly empty store, acknowledging to all her presence.

 

A young looking thing turned to face whoever it was who had entered her boutique, her bright blue eyes fixing the tall brunette with a curious stare. She carefully readjusted her suit before striding forward to greet the new customer.

 

“Hello miss. How may I help you this lovely after noon?”

 

Makoto paused for a moment, glancing at the money in her hands to make sure she had everything. After a moment of silent counting, she peered back up to the saleswoman.

 

“Yes, I would like to purchase the pink silk gown in the window.”

 

Almost instantly, the pretty clerk's face twisted with regret and sympathy, shaking her head.

 

“I'm sorry miss, but it was just purchased by a nice Japanese fellow.”

 

And almost instantly, Makoto Maxwell's heart sank, as did the bright eager flame flickering in her emerald pools.

 

The tall brunette bowed her head, looking as crestfallen as a small child after seeing their favorite toy smashed right in front of them. She droned out the apologetic thrum of the salesperson, suddenly just muttering a `thank you' before turning her heel.

 

-:-

 

The bus stop was oddly empty this chilly afternoon, only inhabited by a sole person. That person being the brown-haired oriental teen Heero Yuy.

 

He sat still in the far end of the bench, sitting straight with his hands clasped over his lap. A sleek, white box was placed between himself and the bus stop wall, hidden under his jacket and snugly in place.

 

He seemed perturbed, position stiff while he gazed down at his naked wrist. The uncovered wrist seemed out of place, exposed, cold.

 

“Hey Heero!”

 

The familiar light-toned call caused the boy to jump slightly, wrenched out of his inner musings. He blinked rapidly several times before hesitantly lifting his head up to face who it was.

 

Makoto stood there, dressed in her customary torn up black jeans and short-sleeved red shirt, white apron over it. She plopped her bag onto the shelter bench before taking a seat herself.

 

“Whatcha doin here again, Mister. Yuy?” she questioned with wondering tone, scouring through her knapsack.

 

“Just checking something out is all…”

 

Makoto mumbled something inaudible under her breath before finally letting out a grunt of frustration, roughly zipping her book bag shut. She tossed the thing against the bench beneath her violently, feeling the sound of the bag thumping on the wood sardonically satisfying.

 

The seventeen-year-old brunette crossed her arms over her chest, glancing about her surroundings with a sour visage.

 

That's right, she was still somewhat miffed about the whole dress thing. As much as she tried to reason it out in her mind, that she had no date anyway, that it was only a dress, that it wasn't really worth all that money…it still hurt.

 

All her self wallowing was pushed aside as her bright green eyes snagged Heero's empty left wrist, where his father's watch always was. He was never without it, always with him just as his trusty hand gun. Sleeping, swimming, and everything in between, it was always there.

 

“Hey, where's your watch?”

 

Heero shifted in his seat, eyes darting to the side and seeming abashed and reserved about his the whereabouts of missing adornment. His head, usually held up high and staring straight with cold, unbending confidence was bowed this afternoon, almost as if trying to avoid Makoto's prying eyes.

 

“Well,” he murmured, lips pursing together as he tried to find the words.

 

“I sold it.”

 

Makoto nearly doubled over with surprise, eyes growing wide and mouth gapping open, utterly stunned. She knew very well how much that watch meant to him, no matter how much he tried to deny it. The way he clung to that thing, it was like a new born puppy to its mother.

 

The adoration for the said object was clear, especially after nearly blowing this punk's head off for trying to pilfer the accessory.

 

“W-why would--”

 

Heero immediately rose his hand, waving it in the air as a gesture for her to stop. He rose to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and began to walk out from under the bus shelter.

 

“I needed the money for something more important.” His voice had grown noticeably soft, losing its dead-pan tone to be replaced with a warm, almost affectionate one.

 

And if Makoto had seen it, she would've doubled over right there. The nineteen-year-old whom she had known since she could remember smiled. Not a white-toothed one but a smile in deed and it was a rarity in the austere loner.

 

Just as the girl was gaining to her feet, Heero whirled around to face her, causing the tall thing to lose her balance and stumble backward. Reflexively his arms flew out to catch the girl by her tiny waist, pulling her full flush up against his front.

 

Time slowed, the world around them melted to nothing, and all that mattered was just how bright her emerald pools were along with just how deep, fathomless his blue eyes were.

 

His face hovered a few hairs over hers; hot puffing breathes searing her unprotected face and hers to his. Large, widened eyes stared up at him with fright and astonishment, a bright pink coming to her cheeks. He remained indifferent, though his eyes seemed to grow darker, more mysterious.

 

And her heart hammered against her rib cage, all air leaving her lungs, while all the blood seemed to fill her face. Everything was a dizzying blur of musky aromas, puffing hot breathes, and piercing, azure blue orbs.

 

His face was so close, lips nearly brushing---

 

HONK! HONK!

 

The two teens jerked apart instantly at the resounding beep of the bus. Makoto scrambled for her bag, Heero for the jacket and hidden box beneath.

 

They turned stiffly, boarding the bus but taking seats opposite sides, Heero the back and Makoto the front.

 

-:-

 

A half an hour later, with her backpack slung over one shoulder and a paper bag of groceries clutched in the other arm, Makoto slowly trudged up to her apartment.

 

After work, she had gone off to buy the weekly grocery, deciding to cook away the night instead of depressing over the dress she never would have.

 

After fumbling for her keys, the tall girl finally managed to unlock the door and pushed her way through. The lights were surprisingly off, obviously indicating her brother hadn't arrived home yet.

 

He was probably working over-time at work, as he usually did. And the thought of that made the seventeen-year-old churn with guilt.

 

Here she was, wallowing over a stupid dress that she'd probably only wear once, while her brother worked over-time to cover the bills and groceries. How terribly selfish could she be? Duo had done so much after mama and papa died, trying his bets to fulfill every one of his dearest little sister's wishes.

 

He even managed to get her to Disney Land with the rest of the fifth grade class, offering the work with the custodians after school until her ticket could be paid up.

 

And with that in her mind, Makoto decided that tonight, she would prepare all of her brother's favorites. From pizza to five-scooped ice cream sundaes, even if she had to run back to the super market to get more ingredients.

 

Setting her parcels onto the kitchen table, she then made her way to her room. As she made her way down the hallway, the brunette began to tug off the half-tattered red t-shirt she wore.

 

Now only in her jeans and bra, she twisted the knob of her door and pushed it open. Her mouth gapped open and her red shirt went tumbling out of her fingers.

 

Laid across her green coverlets was her dress.

 

Slowly and somewhat uncertainly, Makoto moved to the bed, fretting that if she were to move too fast the gown would dissipate into thin air. And when she finally reached the edge of her bed, the tall girl practically lunged for the garment.

 

She buried her face into the soft satin material, taking in the fresh, new scent. After a savoring moment, the seventeen-year-old released the gown and allowed it to fall onto her lap.

 

She just sat there for a moment, in the darkness of her room, staring off into empty space. Then she blinked with befuddlement, head tilting to the side as her hand reached up to scratch the back of her quizzically.

 

Who could've bought this for her? Her brother maybe but he couldn't afford the thing any more then she could. Plus, she hadn't informed him about the dress either so it really was impossible of the buyer being her brother.

 

So if not her brother then—

 

Suddenly, her bright green eyes grew really round with abject realization.

 

“…purchased by a nice Japanese fellow.”

 

It couldn't possibly have been…

 

The events of the half hour prior in the bus stop came crashing down onto the girl's small shoulders, already sagging them down even further.

 

“I needed the money for something more important.”

 

Heero had bought her the dress. And he had sold his father's watch to do so.

 

But Makoto Maxwell would not it end this way. Definitely not.

 

-:-

 

Becks aka THC: 300$ really isn't a lot, true. Hell, my friend blew 835$ on her semi-formal gown. But I was depicting it through Heero, a male's, perspective. Also, as a fairly impoverished family, 300$ is a lot for a single purchase, specially a gown as that.

 

Chibi Horsewoman: The centering of my stories is just a bad habit of mine. As they say, bad habits are bad to break.

 

Themonkeychow: well, either the jacket was humungo or they were really close. ;]

 

AMERiCANiD0L: Simon says, REVIEW. (I'll cut my cheesy jokes to a minimum.) heh.