Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ What Worth a Leaf in a Storm? ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The palace guards let through the two senshi with a minimum of fuss, having only seen Sailor Mercury leave no more than an hour before. If that wasn't enough, the injured Senshi of Thunder's disposition looked a fit match for her title, further discouraging any officious fuss. The men placed their hands deferentially to the swords buckled at their waists and stood aside, prising open the heavy, periwinkle-streaked silver doors

The halls of the palace went mostly unseen by the purposefully striding pair as they took the familiar path to where they knew their Moon Princess would be waiting. The hardly ever convened in the throne room whenever they got together, although the path to the living quarters deeper in the palace did pass by that setting of royal business, where they found another of their friends. Sailor Venus stood before the entrance to the throne room, coolly and gracefully answering the questions of a small mob of reporters, all obviously yearning to enter the ornate doors behind her to where they imagined the Queen would be.

"Sincerest apologies, but Queen Serenity is currently engaged pressing matters, and is unable to answer any questions at the moment. If you would be able to return, say, tomorrow--"

"But the city was just attacked, the Queen must have something to say to the people!"

"There is nothing yet saying that this was any sort of 'attack', sir."

"There was gunfire at the scene!"

Ami raised her eyebrows, "News travels fast," she remarked, though she knew she shouldn't be all that surprised. It always felt as though information traveled faster when it related to you, Makoto had always thought.

"Well then, you appear better informed than I am of what's going on, my good man. I really must insist that you're not getting any more information here. The Queen wont' see you right now. If this was so serious, then shouldn't you let her see about taking care of it, before anything else happens?"

"Are you saying there's a chance of more incidents in the future?"

Jupiter quirked an eyebrow at the unflappable Sailor Venus. Despite her composure, it looked to the pair as though the Senshi of Beauty and Love was becoming increasingly irritated at half of what she said getting ignored. Sailor Jupiter met Mercury's gaze, and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Venus needed to hear the news too, so they had to get her out of here. Jupiter decided to give this crowd a show. She marched into the back of the crowd, any media personality who turned back for any reason filled with a convenient, speechless intimidation at the tall, bloodied senshi bearing down on them. She reached Sailor Venus on the small steps leading to the throne room door and turned to face the reporters.

"You've heard all you're going to! You want more answers, talk to the police. Sailor Venus has more important things to do than sit and talk idle gossip with you mongers all day."

Strangely enough, not a one of them uttered so much as a peep about "freedom of the press" or "journalistic responsibility or any of that natter. Sailor Jupiter winked surreptitiously at her friend before walking down from the steps, the ranks of the people parting before her. She heard the rapid whir of shutters opening and closing as she walked by and knew that the papers and news stations were going to have a field day with her battered visage. No use in worrying about it, however, the whole city would have the whole story by tonight anyway. They rejoined Sailor Mercury and set off down the hallway past the throne room, which was quite clearly marked as a no-pass zone for any but palace personnel, so they would be fee of any more annoyance. Or rather, any annoyance that didn't come from palace personnel.

"Sailor Jupiter, what happened to you?" Venus asked worriedly after they'd left the ear and camera range of any particularly acute reporter.

"I had a political disagreement with a few foreigners," Sailor Jupiter answered shortly, only wanting to have to relate the tale once.

"What?" Sailor Venus asked blankly in reply, and Mercury kindly provided a better answer.

"The explosion wasn't an accident, there were enemies there."

Venus gasped, "Youma?"

"No--"

"Unfortunately," Jupiter butted in with a growl, "Give me a youma and a straight fight any day to a bunch of ungrateful yahoos."

"No youma, Sailor Venus. We'll explain more when we're all together, okay?"

Sailor Venus nodded her silent acquiescence. They entered the room they were looking for, and felt more like they were leaving the place than entering a room. It hadn't taken their Queen very long to realize that the splendor and grandeur she'd always fancied wasn't really that comfortable, even to even her dreamy sensibilities. Soon after the palace was finished, she'd had a section refurbished into something more akin to a traditional home. A high-class home, granted, she was still Usagi, but more a home and less a mansion than she'd started with. When the three senshi came inside, they were greeted with the image of Sailor Mars sitting serenely balanced on the back of a plushy couch, Usagi resting her head back one of the dark-haired senshi's pale thighs. Mars was in the midst of stroking her fingers through the Princess hair when she looked up, stricken at having been caught in such a situation, but Usagi saved her any explanation by leaping up with an exuberance suitable to a woman significantly below her age at the sight of her friends, and a cry of concern for Jupiter.

"Jupiter, you're hurt!"

The Senshi of Courage waved her away, displaying a lopsided grin to disarm her concern.

"It's nothing, Princess, we have other things we need to talk about right now," Makoto's skull told her quite sharply that they were going to exchange words about this later, but the senshi just swallowed her discomfort.

"There was trouble." Mars spoke sharply, getting to her feet. It wasn't really a question, but Jupiter nodded. She turned around to Mercury and put a hand on her arm, drawing her forward.

"Let's have the Senshi of Intelligence here give the, uh, intelligence."

"Usagi-chan, there were armed men and women who set off that explosion in the city," Usagi's eyes widened in shock and sorrow.

"B-but why?"

"To bag a senshi, from the looks of it," Jupiter tossed in, "Or at least, they weren't shooting until we got there."

"Firing!? They shot at you!"

"Well, they missed," Jupiter shrugged. She put a hand to her head as it throbbed, accompanying her answer with a pained smile, "Mostly."

"Where are they now?" Usagi demanded, blue eyes blazing.

"In custody, Usagi-chan," Mercury stepped back in smoothly, "Sailor Jupiter and I were able to subdue them, but that's not what's important."

"You were shot at, Sailor Mercury, that's plenty important!"

"But they've been arrested, and it's over," Mercury continued calmly, placating her friend. Usagi's lips twisted into a frown, clearly disliking the idea of her friends having been shot at... and not having an opportunity to blast the offenders back a time or two herself,

"So there's no more trouble in my city right now?"

"No, Usagi-chan," she was assured. Usagi seemed to deflate a little, and her face softened.

"Oh. Then, um, why don't you all make yourselves a little more comfortable? We don't get a lot of chances to be together," the Queen smiled, and the rest of them looked around. They laughed sheepishly, all still in their uniforms, all standing on their feet--with some more than a small degree of readiness in their postures. Jupiter took a deep breath and in the space of any eye blink, felt her street clothing settle back down on over her like dry water, odd as that sounded was, coursing down her body. The others were back in more casual garb as well, at the end of that blink. Minako was in a smart blue blazer and gray skirt, looking remarkably mature for their flighty friend, and Ami was dressed in a warm pink sun dress. Makoto thought she looked great, though Ami always seemed to pick out the most perfect little outfits for herself. Rei came back, however, a tad too casually. She was dressed only in a thin, almost filmy nightshirt on top, and nothing but panties to cover the rest. Usagi was staring at her and giggling as the miko took a few moments to remember her state of dress. She quickly turned so red, so quickly, that "fiery" could have been an apt description for more than just her temperament. She covered herself with her arms and scrambled into the next room.

"Rei-chan and I were having a comfortable day at home," Usagi explained with a grin, "She transformed without ever actually getting dressed. I think she forgot."

Makoto and Minako laughed outright, and even Ami's shoulders shook slightly as she covered a grin with her hand. Makoto's laughter cut off abruptly, though, drawing the other's eyes to her as she swayed unsteadily. Ami was at her side in an instant.

"Minako-chan, help me sit her down," Ami directed, and together they sat the tall woman down in a comfortable easy chair.

"Hey now, don't worry about me. Just a little headache, I'll be fine. Got any aspirin?" Makoto tried to shrug off their tending, but couldn't gather the strength to. Ami frowned at her, entirely unamused, and gingerly removed her cap, taking special care to avoid jarring her skull as she slipped it from her long ponytail.

"What, hey? What's wrong with Mako-chan?" Rei, just coming out from the other room clad in a simple black shirt and jeans, saw her friend's sate.

"Jeez, it's just a couple of bumps on the noggin, you all," Makoto insisted.

"A couple, Mako-chan?" Ami looked at her, "Just how many places are you hurt?"

"Bullet to the forehead, cracked the back of my skull on the pavement when I fell, and a little cut on my leg from that fun run in the dark earlier. I think I'll survive, doctor," Makoto replied wearily.

"Rei-chan," Ami directed, ignoring that last part "Do you have any ice packs? Or just a bag with ice and a towel, anything at all?"

"Coming right up," Rei answered, stepping spryly to the kitchen. Ami herself on the arm of the chair and put steady, expert hands to Makoto's head, She parted her hair and made a disapproving noise at the ugly, dark, splotchy bruise she found spreading back over Makoto's scalp, under her hair.

"Mako-chan..." Ami reproached, but proceeded in turning her impromptu patient's head round before she scolded any more. She touched carefully and also winced sympathetically at the goose-egg sized bump on the other side. Rei came back into the room with a couple of hastily constructed ice bags wrapped in thin kitchen towels. Ami took them gratefully and raised Makoto's head to place one under her like a pillow, and held the other one to the front bruise. Makoto tried to raise her arm to hold the pack herself, but Ami shooed her hand away, leaving the tall girl to do little more than shiver at her suddenly cold-packed cranium.

"I need you to do something else right now," Ami explained her refusal, "Look into my eyes."

Makoto followed the directive the best she could, meeting Ami's concerned azure gaze. In Makoto's fuzzy mind, a thought struck her, and she smiled, "Hey doc, I feel better already, I got a little angel looking over me," A rosy tinge decorated Ami's cheeks, but she looked searchingly into Makoto's eyes, making sure that they were focused and responsive, "Follow my finger with just your eyes," she continued her direction as though she hadn't been interrupted. She held her finger up before Makoto's face, and moved it back and forth. Alert green eyes followed her easily.

"I'm fine, Ami-chan. One hell of a headache, but my brain isn't any more rattled than usual."

Ami frowned at her, but sighed, relenting, "Fine, Mako-chan, whatever you say. You're at least to lay down for a while, though. Doctor's orders," she tacked onto the end, to preempt argument. Ami helped her up and over to the couch, Makoto not protesting the this time. She sat down in the middle of the couch and lay down,.moving slowly to avoid becoming dizzy again. Minako had helpfully taken the ice packs up and offered them to Makoto, who arranged them comfortably, keeping one held to her temple. Then she looked down quickly, inviting another hammer to join in on the fun times occurring at her brain, when she felt her legs hoisted up. Ami was sitting on the other end of the couch, Makoto's legs in her lap.

"Which leg was cut again, Mako-chan?"

Makoto groaned, thinking she had been done, and slapped the left lightly. Ami began rolling up her baggy pant leg, and made another disapproving noise in her throat at what was more a jagged tear than a cut in Makoto's skin. The others in the room made their own little gasps and sounds of concern, bringing a flush to Makoto's face.

"Jeez you guys, we've all been hurt before, and more badly than this besides. Stop making such a big deal out of me."

They all looked at Makoto's discomfited expression and smiled, sharing a knowing glance amongst themselves. They were still waiting for the day Makoto lost an arm, just so they could see their tall friend say, "Nah, it's no big deal, but could one of you give me a hand with kneading some dough later? You can even use my hand, if you like, it's lying over there."

Rei gestured to Ami, "Anything you need? Maybe a muzzle, if she keeps complaining about the tender loving care that she's receiving?" Rei looked meaningfully at Makoto as she asked the question, though it was directed to Ami.

"Could I get a couple of hand towels, some hot, soapy water, and a bandage? That should be fine, thanks, Rei-chan." Ami started unlacing Makoto's high-top shoe and pulling off her sock, and when Rei arrived back she got to work on washing the dried blood from Makoto's leg, paying careful attention to the cut itself. While she did so, she nodded to Usagi.

"I can still talk while I take care of Mako-chan. You should be aware that your city was just attacked by armed civilians."

"We got that, Ami-chan," Rei interrupted, "But you said that they were taken care of, didn't you?"

"This group was," Ami said darkly, "But until we get some answers directly from those who were arrested, I have my own concerns. They were armed with old military-class firearms. Three with automatic weaponry, one with a more accurate, high-powered rifle. I didn't take any good look at them, but they were obviously illegal for civilian possession. Usagi-chan, in the Silver Millennium, the black market has had to go farther underground than it ever has been. You have to have fantastic resources and know a remarkable number of the 'right' people to make a purchase like that, and these four didn't strike me as wealthy."

"So we have a group of four armed men--"

"One woman," Ami corrected,

"Four armed people with illegal firearms setting off an explosion in Crystal Toky--"

"That's right!" Ami started, "The explosion! I almost forgot to mention, but there was something bothering me about that. We shouldn't jump to any conclusions before a formal investigation, but there didn't seem to be anywhere near enough heat damage or shrapnel to account for the shock wave that most of the city felt at least a tremor of. Almost like it wasn't made to cause that much destruction, but just..."

"To get our attention!" Minako finished the statement, snapping her fingers. The senshi all shared a glance as that sunk in.

"Okay," Rei started again, more somberly, "We have four armed people setting off a specialized explosive in Crystal Tokyo. They remained hidden until there were senshi on the scene, then initiated fire directed at those senshi. It seems it was too early to discount terrorism, Princess."

"You really think so, Rei?" Jupiter asked in mock wonder, though a little grin told the other girl she wasn't trying to be offensive, "Ah, hey, a little more gentle, please, Ami-chan," Ami raised an eyebrow innocently at her after having scrubbed just a touch rougher than necessary across Makoto's injury, while Rei rolled her eyes.

"You'd think the one of us who was actually hurt would be taking this more seriously,"

"I'm taking it plenty seriously. Excuse me for being a little relieved that I only have a bump instead of a hole in my skull, though. I do want to say something, though. We're all going to feel really silly if we start publishing conspiracy theories, then it turns out this was just some wackos who stumbled across a crazed army vet's stash in the woods. We should just take a deep breath and go on with our lives until the police can tell us something a little more concrete, I think." Normally Makoto knew she would be as enthusiastic as the rest of them in wanting to prepare and discuss and plan and act. For today, however, she just wanted to get home, take some aspirin, make some tea, and...her eyes tracked back over to Ami, now expertly wrapping a bandage around her calf. The Sailor Senshi already won today, right? Hadn't they saved the world from mortal peril enough times before that she could shirk just a bit, a teeny little bit, this one day?

"Mako-chan is right," Usagi spoke up after a lengthy pause, "Even if we sit here all day thinking about what might have been going on, we won't know, and we won't be able to think confidently about any of it," the others, even Rei after a moment of sullen consideration, nodded their heads.

"We'll all meet back here tomorrow, then," Rei declared.

"Right," they answered in unison.

"All done, Mako-chan," Ami added afterward. Makoto looked down and wiggled her foot.

"Good as new," she said. Taking a deep breath, she could feel the dizzy nausea that had stricken her for a bit fading as well, and the pain in her skull had faded to a steady background thrum, rather than the sensation of somebody swinging a full-bass boombox at her head. She gingerly swung her legs down and rose to a sitting position on her end of the couch. To her surprise, Ami scooted closer, and put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned in closely, and Makoto felt her heart beat a little faster.

"Ami-chffferff--" Makoto was unfortunate enough to get a good taste of lukewarm soapy towel as the Ami reached up to scrub the line of dried blood from her cheek. Ami took the towel away and left the other sputtering, smiling sweetly. Then she meticulously gathering the soiled rags, and the two ice packs Makoto had left on the arm of the couch.

"Hey, Ami-chan, you don't have to--"
"I've already got it," came the reply, and Ami disappeared through the entryway to the kitchen. Minako was the next to gather their attention,

"I need to go and talk to the police, too," she said, "Get a little something for my story on the evening news, even if I am still a serious leg-up on the competition. It's good being inside the loop," she poked the tip of her tongue out mischievously at them and stood, straightening her skirt. With her exit, Rei rounded on Usagi, who shrank back at whatever she saw in Rei's eyes.

"Remember what I said about paperwork, Princess? You'll probably be hearing from legal representatives from the company, the police, the employees, the employee's families, the police's families, the next-door neighbor's second cousin's niece of a pet-shop owner who sold a ferret to a man who was walking a couple of blocks away from the explosion... You're going to be busy for a while."

"Gee, thanks," Usagi glowered at her friend, and turned to Makoto, "Rei-chan is still a meanie."

"Some things just don't change," Rei retorted, "Come on now, the sooner you get started, the sooner we'll be done."

"We'll be done?"

"You think it's easy making sure you you don't run off and take a nap? I found out the hard way that you don't actually need to age to grow gray hairs. You know, this wouldn't be so bad if you'd hire a proper staff, you know." Rei spoke with the tired tone of one who was trying yet again to argue a point that she'd never gotten across,

"But it's me they want to hear from to, isn't it? It wouldn't be fair to make them talk to some stranger when they obviously need to be reassured by their graceful, talented, intelligent, gentle, beautiful Queen."

"I'm so glad you think so," Rei took her by the arm and started dragging her from the room. Usagi scrambled to regain her feet and drew alongside her friend with a sigh of resignation, making a face at her back and winking at Makoto. She smiled as the pair left the room. Here they were, going on four years now--or was it five? It was still somewhat surreal to know that she'd only had these friends for that long. Five years, and they still managed to keep up the way they always had. She supposed that kind of perseverance would come in handy over the next forever or two.

Makoto stood and took a deep breath, thinking about that. Three years had been hard enough without trying to consider forever. She started towards the kitchen, and was brought face to face with Ami on her way out.

"Mako-chan, you're still here? I heard everybody else leaving and thought you'd gone with them," Ami seemed surprised.

"Oh, no. I wanted to talk to you."

"I see," Ami responded, shuffling her feet uncomfortably, "But I'm, ah... in a hurry right now, I need to get back to the library. I left my things in there from when I was studying earlier, and the place is probably still a dreadful mess..." Ami edged past her as she spoke, apparently eager to leave.

"Oh, uh, sure," Makoto said , "But you can still come over later, right?"

"Of course," Ami answered hastily, then stopped, turning around for a moment, "It... really is good to see you again, Mako-chan."

Makoto smiled tightly, and nodded, "See you later, then. Drop by in an hour or so? I needed to stop by the grocery store anyway."

"I'll look forward to it," Ami smiled, and exited through the back of the living quarters, in the direction Makoto assumed the library was in. Makoto stayed where she was for a minute, wondering over the disparity in what Ami had said, and how she had said it. If Ami was so happy to see her, why did she look so uncomfortable, and why did she seem in such a hurry to leave, when they finally had a moment to themselves?

*****

Makoto wandered through the aisles of the supermarket nearby her apartment after she'd bought some aspirin and swallowed a few down. Now then, what was she going to serve? Should she go with foods that she knew Ami liked, to try and make her feel comfortable and know that Makoto still remembered these things, or perhaps she should try and make something new and interesting, maybe foreign? Maybe she should show Ami how worldly she, too, had become in these years. Perhaps she should look up some classic American food? But Ami was probably sick of that, living there for so long... or maybe she preferred it to Japanese cuisine?

Anyway, where did sandwiches fall in there? Those were kind of world-round, weren't they? It could matter what was put into them, Makoto ventured. She stopped in the midst of a step, casting her eyes around the store.

No, she would just make what she always used to. If Ami had changed and Makoto didn't know about it... well, she though with some irritation, it wouldn't be all her fault, now would it? She rushed through the store and grabbed everything she would need, thankful for the bountiful summertime months as she gathered a bag of fresh fruit from the produce section. She made another stop at her favorite bakery to pick up a fresh, warm loaf of bread, and headed back to the little slice of Tokyo that she called home. On the way, she found herself slowing down outside a little shop that she normally didn't give a second glance. Would a bottle of wine be out of place? Was it too early in the day for that, was this was the correct kind of occasion? Did Ami even drink?

Makoto didn't. Not for any moral reasons, or even health reasons, she just wasn't that fond of the sensation the times she had tried, and tended to be more satisfied engaging in her usual hobbies and activities. Even so, she thought of sitting across from Ami at a candlelit table with a glass of finely aged, fruity, bittersweet drink between them, slowly going through it over the course of the night, the loneliness she had felt draining from her as liquid from the bottle, talking for hours and hours, making their way to the bedroom, losing herself in an utter lack of worries or inhibitions or caution...

Because, after all, that's what Ami would expect when she came over for a cup of tea. Makoto rolled her eyes at her own foolishness and continued walking. Then she stopped, and took one look back. A few minutes later later she walked out of the store with a dark bottle scripted "Centine RosÃ©". She didn't know much about wine, really, but she liked the sound of the name, and the owner had been more than happy to tell her about it, extolling its wonderful sweetness and beautiful, coral pink hue that only truly came alive when seen in the romantic light of a candle. The last he'd added with certain mysteriously suggestive smile that made heat rise to her face, but she'd bought it anyway and hurried out.

Once back in her apartment, she hung up her light jacket in her closet with some relief. It a little warm for that, but it had been overcast and drizzly in the morning, so she'd been stuck with it. On her way to the kitchen, she passed her open bathroom door and caught site of her reflection. She frowned, feeling suddenly... plain. She went back into her bedroom and ransacked her closet, eventually finding a ruffled lime-green blouse and tight-fitting pair of tan slacks that she liked the look of. Not too formal, but she thought they complimented her nicely. She dressed and stood before the mirror, hands on her hips. She frowned once more, and unbuttoned a few buttons down her blouse. Then she buttoned one back with an embarrassed gasp of laughter.

She got the feeling that she was worrying about this far, far too much, but indulging in a little girlish fretting helped keep her mind off of more serious and potentially painful thoughts. She wanted to think about seeing Ami now, not about what had or hadn't happened in the past.

So she stormed into the kitchen and tied on an apron, to keep from messing up the clothes she'd just now so carefully chosen, and started slicing tomatoes and cheese with a completely unnecessary amount of care and attention. It worked, though, she didn't think about anything but what she was doing, and she ended up with what may have been the most perfectly sliced sandwich ingredients that had ever been prepared. She made a little plate of finger sandwiches and put them into the fridge, and prepared all the fruit she'd bought into a fruit dish, which she also put away for later. Just in time, too, as she was just untying her apron strings when she heard a polite knock at the door.

"Come on in!" She called in response. Ami opened the door as Makoto was crossing through the sitting room, standing with her hands clasped in front of her and around the strap of her bag, looking unsure of herself.

"Come on in, I said," Makoto chided, "Have a seat, make yourself at home. I'll be back in a sec," Makoto tossed her apron unceremoniously atop her bed. Before she walked back, however, she walked back in and placed it more tidily upon a hook hanging on the back of her door. If, for some reason, they found themselves in the bedroom, Makoto didn't want anything getting in the way--of Ami's having a good opinion of her housekeeping. Couldn't have things just lying about.

"So, what can I interest you in? Tea, coffee... uh, wine?" Makoto tried to sound nonchalant about the suggestion, walking back into the room to find Ami sitting, still looking vaguely uncomfortable, on the couch in front of a low, clear glass table.

"Tea, please," Ami replied graciously enough, however, without so much as a batted eyelash at the last suggestion.

"Sure thing, I'll have it ready in a jiff," belatedly, Makoto remembered that she hadn't lit any candles anyway, so it really wasn't a good wine occasion. Ami had accepted an invitation to tea, at any rate. As Makoto took down a few cups from the cupboard, she reasoned that these things were supposed to improve with age anyway, so she would just have to invite Ami over again, for dinner. Perhaps tomorrow. Except, that they might be busy tomorrow. Possibly longer than that. Makoto pouted to herself, why did the reason that Ami was here also have to be the reason that Makoto wouldn't be able to spend time with her...

She paused at that thought. The reason that Ami was here? That... why had Makoto suddenly thought that it was for the incident earlier? That didn't make any sense, they hadn't brought Ami in from overseas to look at a smoking building. What had she come back to Japan for? Also, how long had she been here?

Makoto too the water she'd had heated on the stove and poured them over teabags in the bottoms of the cups, carrying them carefully back into the main room and setting one in front of Ami, who was now looking curiously at a paperback book. Makoto recognized it as the one she'd been reading before her class; she must have left it out earlier. Ami smiled appreciatively, and Makoto settled in her plushy pink armchair.

"As you can see, I still have a little soft spot for the occasional romance," she gestured to the volume held by Ami's slender fingers.

"I do see. I just finished this one last week, would you believe? You must tell me what you think of the ending," Ami reached into her bag and pulled out a slim bookmark, slipping it between the two pages that her finger had been separating. "You shouldn't leave your books splayed out like that, though," she added, referring to the way Makoto had left it on the arm of her chair. Ami picked up her cup, but paused before drinking as Makoto spoke,

"So, I didn't know you were in town," the brunette remarked. Ami's expression and posture tensed, and she set her cup back on the table with a soft clink.

"Ah, you see, I'd only arrived the day before yesterday, and I won't be here long. My mother invited me to talk to a colleague of hers, a doctor who's been very influential in the field of research I want to write my thesis on. It's really a fascinating field--" she started, eyes brightening, but she cut herself off at the expression on Makoto's face, a certain raise of one eyebrow and tilt to her head that said, "You know I won't have a clue what you're talking about, and you know you're avoiding the question."

"--that I would like to talk with him about. I was only going to be here for a few days, a week at the latest."

Makoto made a noncommittal noise as she took another sip, "I wish I would have known, I just spent my morning lazing about here. reading. Would have been nice to get to see you a little more, if you won't be here long. Or to see you at all," Makoto continued, voice rising slightly in spite of herself, "I mean, were you even planning on letting me know you were in town, or were you just going to leave without saying a word!?"

Ami looked taken aback, and hurt, but her brows furrowed and she responded with a similar heat, "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you would care if I was in town. You didn't seem to care where I was or what I was doing for quite some time now, how was I to know that had changed today? At least, today is the only time I've ever gotten anything from you saying that you care. I wonder why that is?" Ami's voice was dripping sarcasm and hurt.

Makoto had regretted getting angry at some level, knowing that an exceptional amount of it wasn't really directed at Ami, but at herself. Ami's words stung, though, and didn't help to calm her.

"Didn't know that I would care? You were the one that jumped on that plane with a big smile and a cheerful wave. You were the one that left!"

"Is... is that what you're getting angry about? It was over, Mako-chan, the Silver Millennium started, we didn't need the senshi all here anymore. I had dreams, too, you knew that! Don't you dare start yelling at me for abandoning some responsibility. Today, when trouble came, I was here, wasn't I?"

"No, no," Makoto shook her head furiously, but didn't know how to proceed. No, I'm really angry at myself, because I couldn't say those three little words before you left? That wasn't Ami's fault, but... "You're right, I did know all of that. But were those dreams so important to you that you couldn't spare a single minute for old friends? I haven't heard from you this entire time, Ami-chan."

"Likewise. However, as I said, I didn't know you wanted to hear from me. You never called, either. Never wrote. I got to America, got to my dorm room. Alone in a strange, new place, farther from home than I'd ever been... I kept hoping that somebody would call. I wanted to hear a familiar voice, I wanted to hear your voice. But I didn't. Usagi-chan called a lot, so did Minako. Even Rei checked in now and again. But I never heard from you."

Makoto worked her mouth for a response, but came up empty. How could she ever explain? Pacing her living room, looking at the phone later that day. Picking it up, staring at the number Ami had given her. Her fingers hovering over the buttons, trembling. Curling into a ball on her bed that evening, only able to think that it would be years before she'd ever see her again. Spending all that sleepless night remembering times spent together; at the park, movies, bookstore, cafÃ©s and sweetshops, or just hanging out at one another's homes. Feeling bitter, knowing that she'd become less and less able to deny what she was feeling, and still not able to just talk about it with the person that she should have been able to talk about anything with. Berating herself for not just coming out with it. It didn't make any sense to Makoto, thinking of her title, the Senshi of Courage, with contempt. Why, then was something that seemed so simple doing so much to freeze her lips and cloud her mind?

Makoto hadn't called because... she didn't know what to say. She wanted to hear Ami first, to let Ami's sweet voice bring her back to a time when they could talk for hours about everything and nothing. Ami hadn't called. The weeks had gone by, and turned to months, and then years, with each passing moment the idea of picking up the phone becoming more and more difficult.

After a long moment, Ami stood coolly, "Is that what you wanted to talk about, Mako-...to-san? You might as well step down. Being taller does not, I think, give you any right to look down on me. In any case, thank you for the invitation, but just now recall that I have an important engagement later this evening, and should probably spend the rest of my day doing something more worthwhile," Makoto felt burned by the acidic tone of Ami's words, so uncharacteristically harsh of that gentle voice.

"Fine," Makoto answered, her voice coming back to her as she retaliated to the pain in her heart, "I can just pretend today didn't happen. Then everything can be just how you would have preferred. You can go back to your studies, just forget I said anything. Shouldn't be too hard to do, you've had plenty of practice at forgetting."

"So you're still going to stay with that, are you? I don't forget my friends, unlike some. I'll see you tomorrow, Makoto-san, perhaps we can one again behave civilly in front of the others? Thank you again for your assistance earlier, and for your kindly provided beverage," Ami finished neutrally, taking steps to the door.

"And thank you for tending to me earlier so kindly, and making me think, for a moment, that you still cared. You should have become an actress, forget about the doctor thing."

Makoto felt a cruel streak of bittersweet pleasure when she saw Ami's back stiffen, but the girl left the apartment without another word. There was silence in the room. Makoto finished her tea mechanically, watching the cup that Ami hadn't actually managed to touch. Thin wisps of steam curled from it, growing ever smaller until they vanished into the air. Makoto knew it was little more than lukewarm, cooled like the fire that had raged in her chest moments before. With a crooked smile, she took a sip from that other cup. Yes, it was bitter, also like her heart. She walked into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. With a muffled sob, she buried her head in her hands. What just happened, why had she said those things? Now that her irrational anger with Ami--and herself--had loosened its iron grip on her stomach, she felt sick. What had happened between them? Ami had been so distant, Makoto had been able to feel the separation between them in the other room. There was a wall there now, high and thick and long. A wall that she had helped to build. The thought alone made her feel tired, more tired and drained than she could ever remember feeling, far too exhausted to consider climbing the wall. She had not even the burning passion for life, always kindled in her heart, left to keep her going. It had just walked out of her door.