Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Hearts of Swords ❯ Chapter X - Missing ( Chapter 10 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

* * * R E C A P * * *

[***1510, Kamakura, Japan. Kanagawa Prefecture.***]

An impassioned moan caught my attention as I followed the source of the noise,
curious as to where it was coming from. Perhaps I can find solace in the arms
of my sunshine blond tonight. It has been so long since we were able to share
an intimate moment together.

I carefully tread through the hallways, knowing that if I am found prowling at
night, I shall be restrained to my room. When the moan becomes louder, I find
the source at...

Minako's room?

...No.

Fear runs through me as I open the door to find my love Minako in bed with an
unknown blue haired girl. My eyes burn with tears and my body trembles with
anger and pain. How could she do this to me?

"Minako..."

Two pairs of blue eyes focus on me, one hazy with desire and confusion, the
other filled with guilt and spite. My face twists into a parody of my normal,
serene countenance as I smile grimly. "I'm sorry for interrupting your...moment
so rudely. I'll just show myself out."

"Sets-chan..."

"That's Setsuna to you, Aino-*san*," I say angrily.

My hand trembles as I open the door and step out of her room, hearing Minako's
voice calling for me. I shuffle down the hallway and quickly retreat back to
my room. Tears burn and trail down my cheeks and I can feel the hot tears drip
down my face.

How could she do this to me? Didn't I mean *anything* to her? Perhaps I'm just
another fling of a geisha. Maybe that's all I am to her.

"Setsuna...please..."

"I have nothing more to say to you, Aino-san," I said in the most neutral voice
I could muster.

"Setsuna..."

"Leave me be," I say, even though my heart yearns to call her back.

A few moments later, I can her her choked sob as she walks away from my door,
and when I am sure that she is gone, I let the tears flow freely and my shakes
as I sob and let myself hurt over what I have lost.

* * * * *

Even now, she noted dully, that even the barest mention of Minako's name sent
her into a spiral of pain and anger. Since then, she had never let anyone close
enough to hurt her like that. However, it seemed that compared to Usagi, what
she had suffered was like a grain of sand upon the endless stretch of the world
and the universe. Usagi had gone further lengths to alienate herself from
emotions and then immersed herself in blood.

Sighing, she sat up from the bed and made her way to the furo. However, as much
as she tried to push the thoughts of her former lover from her mind, she could
feel the pain and the love swirling within her, and she suddenly found herself
thinking about a certain blond haired, blue eyed girl with the hand that could
kill with a single stroke of a blade.

'Usagi...'

* * * * *

Rei could feel the sensuous touch of her lover again. Their united, harsh
breaths and the smooth feeling of skin against skin. The slick heated flesh
against her own sliding so flawlessly...

It sent her levels of frustration higher than ever before, as well as made her
heart ache in pain. How could Usagi do this to her? Did Usagi not love her? She
had tried everything to keep the blond, but all of her efforts had failed. It
seemed that she was powerless from letting the blond claim the Usagi she loved
so much.

Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to valiantly push them back. It was
unfair that she had to sit in Kyoto, helpless and away from her blond while the
aforesaid blond was away in Kamakura after having ripped out the black haired
girl's heart.

Scowling, she stormed down the street and slipped into the nearest alley to
wait for the next victim.


* * END CHAPTER IX * *

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H E A R T S O F S W O R D S

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"Oh I miss you so much
I long for your love
It's scares me
Cuz my heart gets so weak
That I can't even breathe
How can you take things so easily..."

Chapter X - Missing
[Sengoku Period, 1512]


In her mind's eye, she was twelve years old, just one year after the death of
her sensei. He had taught her everything he knew, which extended after meeting
her comrades at the age of seventeen. She could see herself wielding the katana
with a grace that she should have never possessed and killing with such ease
and efficiency that belonged to the best of the samurai.

Man or woman alike should never have been able to become omniscient and be the
end of a life that was not theirs. It was a terrible curse that should never
have been brought forth. Machinations and objects of death and destruction, in
her opinion, should be destroyed and never be created again.

Would that apply to those who killed? Was she those accursed "machinations"
that she detested with an unfathomable passion? Would those who killed fall to
their untimely fates, the same fate that they delivered to all those that
opposed them? They, the killers, deserved to die. *SHE* deserved to die. She of
all people, she, Tsukino Usagi did not deserve to live.

However, life was never gracious or generous with wishes and desires. Fate had
a sadistic streak of laughing mercilessly at the misery of Her creations and
bestowing these miseries upon their meaningless existences. It was a terrific
irony that she failed to see the humor in. 'Perhaps I am just being a touch too
dreary tonight...it is this accursed *atmosphere*!'

Deciding to continue her thinking in a bath, she made her way to the furo, only
to find that Minako was waiting in a simple white yukata. "I was wondering when
you would show up."

* * * * *

Usagi's eyes narrowed as she peeled off her kimono and began to wash herself,
unaware of Minako's blue eyes roving over the pale skin with a gleam of lust
and longing. Long waterfall of golden locks strayed to and fro across the
scarred yet smooth and silky skin. An errant lock of hair would be tucked into
place occasionally, but Usagi paid no heed to anything or anyone, not even her
own absent actions.

"Even after what you've gone through, and what you've put me through, you still
manage to take my breath away," Minako remarked, sadness marring her usual tone
of sensuous lust.

Both blondes stepped into the warm, therapeutic waters of the furo, and Minako
hissed softly as cold metal grazed against the soft skin of her exposed neck.
Then a dangerous smirk traced the curve of Minako's seductive, pouting lips.
The game was beginning.

"You know that no matter how much you claim to "love" her, you can't escape me.
You're mine," the geisha murmured huskily. "You'll always be mine."

Usagi answered, "One night. No catches, just sex. Then it's over, and maybe we
can put this behind us."

As if Minako had suddenly changed in mind and heart, she said, "I love you Usa.
I'll take whatever's given to me just to be with you for one last time."

"Will Ami consent?" Usagi queried.

"She doesn't have to know," Minako answered in a serious tone.

Blue eyes glimmered with regret and sorrow as she murmured, "I can't believe
I'm doing this. I owe you and Ami an apology, something I should have done a
long time ago."

"I missed you...Minako...chan," Usagi admitted quietly.

They were like mirror images of each other, blond haired girls looking into the
same pair of blue eyes. Usagi's lips were curled into a melancholy smile. "I
don't love you Minako. Not in the way you want me to. Not anymore. I love her.
You won't be able to replace her. My heart is no longer mine."

"You hurt her by leaving her alone," came Minako's swift rebuke and accusation.
"Ami would have left you alone had you refused."

"She would have gone after her," Usagi replied. "Better me than her. Always."

"You realize that Mamoru-san will go after her, don't you? He wants you, he's
been looking, *longing* for you. He'll kill her to get you," Minako warned.

"Not before I kill him first." Usagi replied with conviction.

Minako exclaimed, "You're thinking recklessly. He's guarded, you won't get to
him."

In one smooth movement, Usagi stood up and climbed out of the furo. She dried
herself off before wrapping a yukata around her body. Tying the obi closed at
her waist, she made her way to leave, but not before answering Minako's warning
with a: "You mean that you nor Ami will let me through to kill him."

The blond geisha watched as Usagi's slim form disappeared from her sight. She
sighed before making her way to get back to her own room.

* * * * *

"...'ruka...not here...ohh..."

'She makes for a quite an erotic sight' thought Haruka humorously.

Kimono barely hanging on her body, arms trapped in Haruka's iron-like grip
within the fabric and head thrown back wantonly, Michiru was every bit of the
fantasy that Haruka had ever known. The petit woman was trapped between arousal
and sobriety, aquamarine eyes staring beseechingly into Haruka's pair of
emerald green -- currently darkened to a deep forest green -- to understand
that there *was* a better time than the current moment, but was finding it very
difficult to formulate any coherent thought, let alone speech.

Wordlessly, Michiru lifted her hips to ask for completion, and a smirk traced
the lips of her tall blond lover. Long, slim fingers danced swiftly across the
expanse of creamy white skin that was the bare surface of the beauty that made
up the person that was Kaioh Michiru. The urge to taste the sweat-beaded skin
overwhelmed Haruka and she lapped at the hollow of her lover's neck, earning an
impassioned moan for her efforts. She let her lips drift further south, taking
a brief rest at the twin peaks of Michiru's pert breasts.

"'Ruka...Makoto...ohh...mmm..."

Haruka's husky voice filled Michiru's mind as she heard, "Makoto won't mind."

A breathless whimper escaped Michiru's lips as she felt the achingly fleeting
press of a finger against her sensitive bud. Her vision began to melt into a
warm, formless blur and all she could feel was the skillful touch of her lover,
whose lips were currently occupied with nibbling and tugging gently at one
turgid nipple. Haruka knew without a shadow of a doubt that there were certain
ways to manipulate Michiru's body to her fiery, passionate will.

Their joined medley of gasps and moans drifted lazily through the walls, and it
only served to cause further anguish to those next door, knowing that they were
severed from their own loves for eternity.

* * * * *

An angry scowl marred his usually placid countenance as he paced restlessly in
the confines of his quarters. Muttering under his breath, it was clear to all
who saw him that he was agitated. This did not go unnoticed by his right-hand
man, or woman, Mizuno Ami.

"How *DARE* she defy me!" he muttered under his breath. "I will have her head
for such insolence! That whore!"

"My Lord, you have yet to take action about my report," Ami said quietly.

Hits blue eyes narrowed hatefully as he growled, "That little girl will *PAY*!
She has claimed something that isn't hers. I want her and her *friends* DEAD."

Ami stood and mulled over the order in her head. If she killed Rei, then Makoto
would be upset, and she did not want to cause Makoto any grief.

"If I may be so bold to say, my Lord, perhaps killing the girl is not such a
wise idea. If anything, it might push her on to continue against us. Maybe she
should be left alive, but without access to Usagi at all, sire," said Ami.

She could see that he was now mulling the idea over in *his* head and when she
saw the cold, cruel smile that was etched into his handsome features, she knew
that she had just condemned her former ally to her death. He dismissed her in a
matter of minutes, and when she had stepped out of that door, she had heard his
rich baritone mutter and then chuckle.

Guilt consumed her, and she could only pray silently for those she was about to
betray. She knew now that her life had become an irony. She had been cruelly
betrayed, only to turn back and backstab the one person who had betrayed her.
It was not vengeance, but rather an irony. The betrayed has become the betrayer
and the one to be betrayed was once the betrayer. It was a confusing thought.

She let it alone and went off in search of solitude, hoping to brood in her
guilt in silence. However, upon turning a corner, she saw the slender form of
Usagi walking into a room. The sound of the shoji sliding shut followed. Minako
was nearby; and she was proven correct when the aforementioned blond came down
the hall.

"Minako-chan," she called softly.

The blond looked up and smiled beautifically. Soon, the two embraced and began
to make their way into the estate's gardens.

* * * * *

Makoto could remember a time when she was living with her parents in a small
but quaint village. Her father was a farmer and her mother looked after her and
her little sister Megumi. Her childhood had been filled with happy memories,
and she still remembered her parents.

Then it had happened.

When she had been fourteen years old, she had met a girl. She couldn't remember
her name now, but she distinctly remembered the girl having the most abnormal
hair color; blue. Her hair had been blue and she had wondered if the girl was a
freak. Upon having approached the girl, she immediately felt bad because she
could see the pain and the loneliness in the girl.

So she had befriended her.

Only to find out a year later that her friend was a part of the Fukushima clan
and therefore a participant of the plan that had razed her village to the
ground.

She had met a warrior with golden hair and held a katana like a vengeful God,
killing her opposition with a cold ruthlessness. She had fled with her life
but her family had not been so lucky. When she returned, her village had been
burned to the ground, but most of the villagers were alive. Her home and her
father's small rice field had been destroyed, reduced to nothing but charred
remains.

That was the day she had screamed in pain and had vowed never to love again.
Even now, she did not love. She could like and enjoy, but never love. It was a
vulnerability that she could not afford. In a way, she was like Usagi, but also
different in many ways.

She was not as heartless as Usagi. The girl had left Rei helpless and miserable
in Kyoto while she went gallivanting in Kamakura with her former lover and her
enemy.

But she could not be angry or hold Usagi at fault. If there was one thing she
had learned while growing up is that never to judge anything by its outer
appearance. By the looks of this situation, she could sense something deeper,
more painful and foreboding. Setsuna had been ill at ease for the past several
days and she found herself trying to remember the name of her blue haired
friend.

Just as she was about to return home for the night, something struck her. And
she knew. And shook in rage.

Mizuno Ami.

* * * * *

Usagi rested her back against the wall, the material of the kimono sliding
against her skin. It felt foreign on her, and she wished that she could slip
back into her well-worn hakama and gi. However, she was a guest here and she
would act accordingly. That was the only thing she could offer.

Memories closed in on her, and she felt as if she was suffocating, the darkness
hunting her like a predator with its prey. She felt claustrophobic; she needed
to leave here. She did not belong her, never had. She would *never* belong in
Kamakura, where her life had begun and ended.

In her mind, she could hear the screams of the villagers all over again, and
feel the burning hot flames of a town being torched. She stood by, watching in
morbid fascination as the people and the town went up in flames, heard their
agonized screams of help as they were burned alive. Charred flesh fluttered to
the ground in flakes, and the stifling stench of burnt flesh permeated the air.

Blood splashed on the ground, the comforting weight of her katana held in her
hands as she sped through the plains, mountains, forests and towns. The edge of
her blade stood as the glorious hope for a new Japan. In a twisted way, she was
an artisan, shaping and molding the world to a new image. An image of peace and
prosperity. Obstruction was not an option; these men were an obstruction. They
needed to be taken out of the path. So she continued to swing her katana, and
more crimson red stained the ground.

Oddly, no matter how much she washed herself, the crimson blood stayed on her
skin. A reminder of who she was and of her sins. It was a mark of those who
were haunted and inhuman. Killers who fought in the name of justice, yet death
was not justice. Justice was a vague concept and they all fought for an unknown
cause. Was it just for the sake of war that they fought? Killing needlessly and
spilling blood across the plains of their homeland?

Her unseeing eyes looked down to her hands where she could see the red blood,
and this blood would never wash off. To those who did not know, they would
never understand what it meant to take a life. And she hoped that they never
did, because it would destroy what little innocence they had left.

"I can't wash off the blood..." she murmured. "Never will I be able to wash
off the blood of the countless people I've killed. Their blood is what I bathe
in, and what I *will* bathe in for the rest of my lives. It is something I now
understand that I cannot atone for."

If it was possible to paint the melancholy image that she depicted; a scarred,
vulnerable girl on the verge of womanhood who was a killer more ruthless than
any man alive and bathed in crimson, they would have run away screaming in
horror and madness. A single tear fell from her eye and traced a wet path down
her pale cheek.

"How much longer must I continue? I promised to myself and upon my brother and
my parents' grave that I would not set foot into my home until I have avenged
their deaths..."

"But I still love him okaasan...and I love Rei. I don't want to have to kill
anymore...but I have to, don't I? I have to keep killing and killing until
they realize that killing really won't solve anything, or they understand that
those who kill will fall prey to madness. Like I am. My grip on reality is
slipping and I'm afraid...afraid that what precious love I have left will be
nothing but a ghostly dream and the love I know will have been an apparition
of an insane, cold girl."

"Okaasan...I'm so cold and so lost. I'm so tired okaasan, so very tired of
living. Tasukete yo okaasan...tasukete..."

"I miss you...oniichan...tasukete," she whispered.

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Author's Notes:

I've set yet another record for the shortest chapter. I don't know what's wrong
with me, but I can't seem to focus on "Hearts of Swords" Chapter 10. I have
re-written this about four times and this is the final result. I'm extremely
unhappy with this.

The huge amount of angst I've attached at the end is the after-effects of my
other (and more urgent) story, "Cloud Eight and A Half". While I definitely
have plans of finishing "Hearts of Swords" this has no real deadline. My more
urgent story has a due date and I'd like to work on it and perfect it as much
as I can before I submit it.

Currently, "Cloud Eight and A Half" sits at 27 pages of pure angst. o_O Trust
me, late Saturday nights, music and finding out that you failed your math test
with a dismal 33% can do that to you. Huge thanks to Byakko Rei for being
patient with me. Damn you for making me submit "CE&H" to Yuricon! Look what
you've reduced me to! An angst machine! Ack! :) But I love you anyways.

Chapter 11 will be (as I've promised Byakko) 110% Rei-centric. It will give a
look into what shaped Rei's life. I'm thinking about writing a prequel to this
series based on each of the characters that appear here. Then again, those
would probably end up being a short multi-chaptered set that would ultimately
end up as a "Prequel Saga" of some sort, but that's still up for debate. Again,
thanks to Byakko for her endless encouragements and inspiration. :) Without
you, I think I would've given up after Chapter 8. Thank you.

This is very overdue, I've noticed this and I'm terribly sorry. It's just that
I'm doing dismally in grade 11 Math and I really need this credit to work out.
After getting 61 and 62% in Grade 9 and 10 respectively as a Math mark, I need
to focus on schoolwork. So, this might be my last chapter in a long time, but
I won't give up on this.

Thanks everyone.

[E-mail: sherazard_@hotmail.com]
[Website: http://ashura.br0ken.org]
[Weblog: http://ashura.br0ken.org/blog/index.htm]

1st draft: Completed. (10.25.2002)

TRANSLATION:

kimono - A garment worn by both men and women in Japan.
sensei - A teacher.
yukata - A garment worn to sleep.
furo - A traditional Japanese bath, a tub with fire-heated water to soak in
after finishing the ritual of bathing oneself *before* entering the
hot water.
(o)kaasan - Mother, mom
(o)niichan - Older brother.
tasukete (yo) - Help me

Resources:

http://home.austin.rr.com/scajapan/HISTORY. HTM
http://victorian.fortunecity.com/duchamp/410/shogun.html
http:/ /home.earthlink.net/~steinrl/glossary.htm