FIC: On Razor's Edge - Chapter Four (2/2)
Title: On Razor’s Edge - Chapter 4
First half of this chapter can be found here.
Friday:
The question of where to take Setsuna for coffee had been solved by the contents of a thick cream envelope Ando found taped against his door earlier that day. It contained a map of the palace, made by hand, a myriad of strong straight lines etched into white paper. An x had been marked onto two spots. Beside the first x, someone (presumably Setsuna) had written “Ando Tanaka’s room” in elegant black script. The other x simple read “meeting point”. It was located in the southern part of the palace, far away from Rei’s room, his room, Umino’s and Ami’s apartment, the royal couple’s chambers and just about every place that Ando was already familiar with.
The envelope also held a small white card. There was no signature, no greeting, no phone number, only one word: now. Ando blinked. He’d been under the impression that they would meet later in the afternoon, but okay, yeah, he could to do now as well.
Stepping back into his room, he quickly threw his jacket, scarf, and hat back on the bed; he wouldn’t need them if they just stayed in the palace. He reached for his mobile and typed a quick text to both Usagi and Umino: the three of them had made plans to have breakfast together again and Ando felt sorry about having to miss it. Truth be told, it had been a while since he had felt as relaxed and at ease as he had when he spent the morning in bed with Usagi and Umino, munching sandwiches, watching news, and eventually plotting how to get Makoto to accept a new pet into her household. It had been fun.
As he gave the map a cursory glance, he wondered if he would have fun with Setsuna Meioh. Usagi clearly admired the older woman, and had spoken of her with almost childish admiration. Umino, who was just as nice as Usagi, but less dewy-eyed in his outlook on life, had seconded Usagi’s statements about how elegant and smart Setsuna was, but he had also said something else, something that Ando kept coming back to.
“She’s very hard to read.”
Now, of course Ando had a certain advantage here. While Umino wasn’t able to peer into Setsuna’s head to make out her thoughts and motivations, Ando was. Figuratively, not literally, of course. Granted, he wasn’t as good at the whole mind-reading thing as he had been in his past lives, but over the years, he had practiced, reacquainting himself with the gift that had once made the high priest choose him as a shitennou.
He had read the thoughts of a cute waitress back in Milan, of an antique seller in Brussels (he hadn’t bought that lamp after all; it was about as antique as Aiko’s Barbie dreamhouse), of the Tuareg driver of his jeep in Algeria, and of many, many more he had met along the way. On the flight back to Crystal Tokyo, he’d sworn to himself not to pry into the minds of his friends. It was rude (not that he generally had a problem with that) and a breach of trust. It would make everyone even more wary of him than they were now, and he couldn’t have that - no, didn’t want that.
So ever since he had returned, he had shut it down, relied only on the information he could gleam from the things people said, and in some cases, didn’t say. Body language too, of course. But no mind-reading.
Walking down the hallways, the crystal floors gleaming under his feet and the volcano’s flames dancing behind their glassy prison walls, he wondered if he had to apply the same rules to Setsuna as he did to Umino, Usagi, Minako, Makoto, Rei, and everyone else. Part of him didn’t think so. The tall woman was a stranger to him, and the ties of friendship did not yet bind them together. Of course, if he read her mind and she noticed, they might never become friends in the first place.
After about ten minutes, he found the door that Setsuna had marked on the map. It was nothing special, and he might have walked past it a number of times already, but never really looked at it. Ando frowned. He would have rather met her somewhere else. A café, a park, somewhere normal, somewhere out in the open.
But she had called the shots, and with this one note and map, had tipped the balance in her favour. Ando didn’t like other people telling him what to do, where to go, how to behave. He made a very rare exception for Mamoru, but the doctor wasn’t even aware of that yet, which was good. Setsuna Meioh wasn’t Mamoru though and just as he knocked on the door, Ando could feel his temper rise.
The door swung open by its own accord and Ando stepped into white mist.
As soon as he heard the door fall shut behind him, he turned around. It was gone. His heart beat faster, and while he knew that Setsuna wouldn’t hurt him, he didn’t appreciate this blatant display of power.
“I’m here,” he proclaimed, his voice thin in the white nothingness. If he looked down at his feet, he couldn’t even see a proper floor, even though he knew, felt, that he was standing on it. Looking up, there was no ceiling. Everything stretched out around him without an end point in sight and Ando’s stomach did an unpleasant lurch. He didn’t like this, didn’t like this at all.
“Hello Ando,” a voice said, and Sailor Pluto stepped out of the mist. It danced and coiled around her, her and her giant silver staff with the big red ruby in it. It was the very first time Ando had seen a senshi in this life. He had memories of the past to fall back on, but those were the memories of Jadeite, and of the shadow that had been resurrected during the Dark Kingdom era. Ando Tanaka, the journalist and traveller, had never seen a senshi up close and personal.
“Nice skirt,” he said dryly. None of the girls had ever seen the need to transform around him, and the fact that Setsuna did didn’t bode well.
“Follow me,” she said and stretched her arm out into the nothingness as if to indicate a place in the distance. Ando planted his feet firmly onto the ground.
“You know what, I don’t think so. Let’s go and have a coffee somewhere. Somewhere with actual walls. I am quite partial to them.” His tone was light, but he was on edge. The mist and the way it moved unsettled him. It reminded him of the big water snakes he had seen gliding through the Amazonian River, just a light ripple on the water’s surface, but he’d always known that they could overturn his rickety boat in a second.
“As you wish,” Pluto answered and just to his right, the door reappeared. Fighting to hide his relief, Ando gave a little bow. “After you, my lady.” Setsuna barely smiled and walked past, breezing through the door that once again opened without a human’s touch. Ando hurried after her, impatient to be surrounded by the crystalline walls of the palace once again .
But it was not the palace the door lead back into.
“What the fuck---” he bit out, eyes wide. Above them, the blue sky stretched over the walls like colour on canvas. Beneath them, sleek pavement lead to a big, modern building, one that Ando very, very familiar with.
“The museum of modern art!” he exclaimed, staring at what should be a crystalline tower and a few ruinous blocks of cement. “But it was destroyed! I saw it on the news.”
Pluto shrugged and twisted her right hand in a circular motion, almost the way he did after a long day of writing. The senshi uniform fell away into a brief flash of pink light, and a grey pantsuit took the place of the warrior guardian’s attire. “Shall we go in to have some coffee?”
For once stunned into silence, Ando followed her. As they made their way up the steps leading to the main entrance, Ando reached out to touch the banister. It felt real, solid. Inside, people were queuing for tickets, he could see tourists in the museum’s souvenir shop, and of course, to the right, the familiar sight of the museum’s spacious café presented itself. Setsuna walked in, choosing a table close to the big windows at the front. She wore high heels to make herself even taller: not that it was already bad enough that she was able to kidnap him, Ando thought angrily, no, she also had to tower over him.
Sitting down and gracefully crossing her long legs, she looked back to the entrance, where Ando was still rooted to the spot. “Are you coming in?” she asked dryly.
Willing his feet to move forward, Ando made his through the café. It was just like he’d remembered it to be, the way he’s seen it the last time he was here, over fourteen years ago. Down to the newspapers by the door, and the brunette waitress behind the counter, everything was the same. It finally clicked.
“We are in the past.”
“Where else would we be? As you said, the building was destroyed.”
He sank down onto his chair. It was too much. Yes, there was the whole crystal palace part. Yes, the thing about Usagi being able to sprout wings in dire situations. Okay, the mind-reading. All of that was out of the norm, but he had been able to wrap his mind around it. Even being two people at once, Ando and Jadeite, even that. Granted, it had taken him a lot of booze, more than a decade, and more air miles than any other person had ever accumulated, but he had been able to understand it. This however was beyond him.
“If you can just transport us back into the past, then why can’t you go back two months and make sure that nobody tapes Usagi and Mamoru during the sealing of the volcano?”
Setsuna shrugged. “Because that’s not how it works.” He could tell that she was amused, found his bafflement funny. Something inside him snapped.
“Please don’t take this personally, but you’re a bitch,” he said and smiled at her, poison sweet.
“I was told that you have a bit of temper,” she replied evenly and cocked a brow. “You need to work on your self-control if you ever hope to protect your prince.”
Rage rose in him like an angry wave. “Would you say you have a lot of self-control?”
“Yes,” she simply said.
“And you too want to protect your princess?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’d say self-control doesn’t really help with that. You may have it, but last time I checked, she still died during the attack on the moon.”
“Careful. Pandora’s box should remain firmly shut.” For just a second, the café fell away and was replaced by another scenery. The barren land of the moon, the fallen palace, the dead on the floor.
Ando closed his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“You can look again,” she said, and her voice was neither hostile nor kind. He opened his eyes, and his eyes fell onto the waitress who brought them two coffees. Setsuna smiled at the girl. “Thank you.”
Once the waitress left, Setsuna reached for a small pack of sugar and ripped it open with her perfectly manicured hands. As soon as the last sugar had dropped into the black coffee, she began to stir it with the silver spoon. “I have made my point,” she said, “now, what did you want to talk about?”
***
Saturday:
Of course Takeshi had insisted on a teetime at a completely ridiculous hour. Eight o’clock on Saturday. Who the fuck got up at eight on a Saturday? “Insane people, that’s who,” Ando grumbled just as Takeshi took a swing. The ball soared to the right, and the architect turned to Ando with a face like thunder.
“Oh, stuff it,” Ando muttered before Takeshi could complain and walked onto the tee area. He’d chosen a Titleist driver for his first shot, but he was still so angry about Setsuna fucking Meioh, he would have preferred a bloody baseball bat. Bending down, he shoved the tee into the soft ground and placed the yellow golf ball onto it. Straightening up, he got himself into position.
“Feet further apart,” Takeshi interrupted, and Ando glared at him.
“I know how to fucking play.” Not bothering with a test swing, he gave it his all, hitting the ball with as much force as he had. It soared off the tee, into the sky, and landed 150 metres away, right in front of the putting green. Bending down, Ando ripped the broken tee out of the ground, stuffed in his pocket and wondered when life had stopped being fun.
“Let’s look for your ball in the rough,” he said to Takeshi, shouldered his bag, and began to march down the hill.
***
Despite his bad mood, Ando wasn’t a man given to silence. He liked to talk, liked to find out things that people didn’t want him to find out, liked to connect. And - even though many people didn’t think him capable of it - also liked to listen. He was attentive, at least when he wanted to be. He had heard the way Minako had spoken about her relationship to his grumbly golf partner and remembering his friend’s sad and angry eyes. He felt that he owed it to her to try to talk to Takeshi on her behalf. Hell, if certainly beat thinking about Setsuna and whatever shitty point the older woman had been trying to make.
So two holes later, just as Takeshi planted his feet into position and took his swing, Ando abandoned his sullen silence. “Why are you not talking to Minako?”
Startled at the last second, Takeshi shifted a bit and his shot rocketed wildly in the wrong direction. It landed in a bunker twenty metres to their right.
“Would you shut up while I’m taking a swing?” Takeshi snarled, and Ando rolled his eyes.
“Only bad players are disrupted by talking. That’s what my coach always used to say.”
Takeshi turned to him with surprise in his eyes. “You had a golf coach? I thought you couldn’t play.”
“The fact that I played the last two holes two under par should have told you differently. So, what’s with the locking yourself away and not talking to your fiancée?”
“I thought we were here to play golf, not to chat,” Takeshi responded, his eyes narrowing.
“Actually, I thought it would be good for us to bond. So golf, right? And man, 18 holes without talking are boring. So what’s with you?”
“I am not discussing my relationship with you.” The icy tone made it clear that this topic was now closed, and Ando suddenly had an epiphany: Minako had shut him up just as effectively when they’d been out with Attila three days ago. So maybe the architect and his bubbly friend were a match made in heaven after all.
They made their way down to the bunker, where Takeshi’s white ball gleamed teasingly in the sunlight. Ando’s own golf ball was another fifty metres down the hole, again nestling close to the putting green. Takeshi climbed into the bunker, took a shot, and the ball flew right above Ando’s head, landing a bit further down. Truth be told, it was still a crappy shot, but Ando didn’t quite feel like telling Takeshi that. They walked towards the ball, still far away from Ando’s golf ball, and even further away from the putting green. Now that one big common denominator, namely Minako, had been taken off the table, Takeshi was obviously hoping that the rest of the game would be spent in silence.
But just because they couldn’t talk about Minako didn’t mean he and Takeshi wouldn’t find another subject, oh no. There was plenty to chose from, a big buffet of tricky subjects waiting just for them.
So Ando shrugged and chose the main course, knowing it would make Umino proud. He walked up to Takeshi, who was taking a second practice swing, fingers gripping the 6 iron as if he wanted to throttle it. Ando could tell by how the architect pressed his lips together that the third time would be the charm: this one wouldn’t be a practice shot. Time to poke the bear, Ando thought. “Let’s talk about something else then. How about you needing to apologise to Ami?”
This time, Takeshi missed the ball completely and instead hit the grass, sending chunks of it flying into every direction.
***
After a series of withering glares from Takeshi, holes four till seven were spent in silence. Ando liked reasonable risks, but he didn’t have a death wish, so he’d decided to shut up for a while. His motivation behind this little outing had not been to make Takeshi hate him, but to bond with the man.
When they reached the putting green of hole eight and Takeshi missed the hole three times even though it was only a metre away, Ando almost felt bad for the architect. It was clear that the question about Ami had shaken him up. Well, as much as anything ever did. He didn’t show it; his hands didn’t twitch, he didn’t cry, he didn’t even frown, but his game had turned from bad to worse and Ando always found that that said a lot about a man. Takeshi took a soft swing, and the ball rolled past the hole once more. Next thing he knew, Ando saw Takeshi toss his putter into the rough with full force.
“Ooookay,” Ando said slowly and walked into the thigh high grass to retrieve the club. He found it soon enough, but it had hit a tree and was slightly bent. In the world of golf, a slightly bent club was a completely useless one. Snatching his own one from his bag, he made his way to Takeshi and handed it to him. “You’ll need a new one, but we can share mine for the rest of the game.”
Takeshi accepted it, and finally sank the golf ball into the hole. He was once more perfectly calm, and had Ando not known any better, he would have said he’d only imagined the other man’s outburst. Takeshi looked at the hole for a moment before bending down to retrieve the ball and put the flag pole back in afterwards.
He remained crouching on the green, his silver head bent.
“How is Ami?” he finally asked, and Ando’s shoulders sagged. This was progress, this was good.
“Sad. Worried. Like you,” he amended.
“And Umino?”
Takeshi looked up and met Ando’s eyes.
“You better talk to him yourself.”
Takeshi nodded gravely. “I will. Thanks for the putter.” He pushed himself up, and brushed some grass from his beige pants.
Ando smiled. “It’s nothing. Just don’t break it next time you hulk up.”
***
“You are not wearing proper attire,” Takeshi complained and leaned onto his 9 iron. At hole 17, his tone was friendly, and Ando knew that Takeshi was just complaining because he liked to complain, not because he actually had something to complain about. He was okay with that; there was no substance behind it, and he knew that Takeshi was actually finally enjoying himself.
“I am wearing the shoes, the pants, and the glove. Shut up, my ‘attire’ is fine. And put that 9 iron away, you don’t know what to do with it anyway. Take the driver, damn it, and hit the ball with all you’re worth.”
“Did your coach tell you that?”
“No, I learned that during an anger management class. Hit the ball.”
“Why did you have a golf coach anyway?”
“Because my father wanted me to and I hadn’t yet learned how to rebel. Any other stupid questions?”
“Yes. Did Minako say something to you?”
Ando stopped rifling through his golf bag. He knew there was quicksand ahead and a fire wall behind. “She feels neglected,” he finally said, more thoughtful than he normally was. “You’ve got to stop locking that door, it drives her nuts.” He pulled his own driver out of the bag and offered it to the architect.
“Anything else?” Takeshi asked and accepted the club from Ando’s gloved hand.
“She thinks you won’t notice if she drowns in the tub. Please notice if she drowns in the tub, Usagi would be devastated,” Ando quipped, his worry hidden beneath humour and a smirk.
Of course, Takeshi didn’t fall for it. He twisted the club, lifting it up to his face to examine it. “Minako is an excellent swimmer, but I wouldn’t want to risk upsetting Usagi. I’ll make sure she doesn’t drown.”
After that, Takeshi played a half-decent last hole. The two men went into the club’s restaurant to check out the score sheet, even though it was clear to both of them that Ando had kicked Takeshi’s arse seven ways to Sunday.
Ordering two coffees, two beers, and a few sandwiches, Takeshi leaned back against his chair.
“How did your meeting with Setsuna go yesterday?”
Not mincing his words, Ando almost spit on the table. “She’s a bitch.”
“Interesting. Not an impression I share.”
Ando leaned forward, checking left and right that nobody was listening in on them. “She took me back in time. First to the Museum of Modern Art, before the crystal, and then to the moon. Fun times.” Ando leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. The memory alone was enough to set him on edge again. He hated that, hated the effect Setsuna had had on him with just one brief flash of the past. In that moment, he’d been so terrified that he’d completely forgotten to read her mind. So much for that genius plan of his, he thought, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. He looked around the room, checking for a non-smoking sign, but didn’t find one. “Can I smoke in here?”
Instead of answering, Takeshi twisted in his chair, and turned to pluck an ashtray from the table behind them. He placed it in front of Ando. “Thanks,” the journalist muttered and immediately lit up.
“Will you ever give up on this disgusting habit?”
Ando shrugged. “No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows.”
Their food and beverages arrived and even though Ando would have preferred to start with the beer, he reached for the delicate coffee cup and saucer instead. It had been quite cold outside, and four plus hours in the fresh late October air weren’t nothing. The coffee was okay, not as good as Makoto’s though. Takeshi too chose the coffee first, but didn’t drink from it. He just balanced the saucer with the cup on it in his right hand, as if wondering where to put it. “So she took you back. To which time exactly?”
“What do you think? To me frolicking with Mars in a dark hallway?”
Slowly, Takeshi lowered the saucer back onto the table. He didn’t meet Ando’s eyes. “No, presumably not.”
“I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it,” Ando said, his voice low but agitated. “I don’t need a reminder of what I - we - fucked up, it’s on my mind often enough.”
Takeshi looked up. “I do not necessarily agree with this.”
“Say what?”
“You are very keen to relive this past.”
“I am-- what the fuck are you talking about?”
“The crystals, the ‘PR’, all of this leads to one thing: to you becoming Jadeite once more, leaving Ando behind.”
“Is that what you think? That once we become proper guardians again, we can’t be who we are now?”
Takeshi looked him, his green eyes full of turmoil. “It’s the logical conclusion.”
“You are wrong, Takeshi, we can be both.”
“I don’t think we can.”
Stubbing his cigarette out, Ando gave the architect a long look. “So that’s why you’re hiding from Minako. Because you think she wants you to turn into Kunzite again and that scares the shit out of you. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Minako doesn’t want to turn me into anything, Ando,” Takeshi said, “she just sees the future in a different light.”
“In a bright one. You’re too pessimistic by half.”
“I see myself as a realist,” Takeshi answered solemnly, and Ando - not knowing what else to do - waved to the waiter. He appeared promptly.
“Hi, can I have two big tumblers of whiskey, one for my realistic friend here, and one for me? Thanks.”
Takeshi snorted. “I am not getting drunk with you.”
“One tumbler doesn’t make you drunk, even your girl can take more than that. Now shut up and get started on your beer.”
And to Ando’s surprise, Takeshi did.
***
Sunday:
When Ando had planned his week and made his date with Rei for Sunday, he had thought he’d spend the morning with Umino, having breakfast, being silly, and if necessary, let him talk him down to avoid a panic attack.
But you know, the best laid plans of mice and men, and all that jazz.
Ando did not wake up in the palace.
Instead, he woke with his face pushed into red fabric, to the sound of a coffee machine dripping and a television blaring. Groaning, he turned to his back, bumping against something soft and furry.
“Careful, don’t bump Attila off the couch.” Ando opened his eyes (a process that was both difficult and painful). The white painted ceiling above looked familiar, and also, not crystalline. He was not in the palace.
“I am not in the palace,” he murmured, and pushed himself up on his elbows. The simple movement caused his stomach to lurch. Not good. This was not good.
“Now, think. Think hard. You have three clues. Red couch. Dog. My voice. Where might you be?”
Turning his head into the direction of the voice, his eyes came to rest on one Minako Aino, sitting on her plush armchair with a bowl of cereal in her hands. His friend was wearing Spongebob pyjama bottoms, a Sailor V t-shirt, and weirdly enough, Usagi’s trademark hairstyle, only minus the pony tails. It looked kind of as if she had stuck two rockmelons to her head and covered them with hair.
“Your hair gives me a headache,” Ando groaned and sat up. He was still in his golf clothes, minus jacket and shoes.
“You got my boyfriend drunk,” Minako sing-songed at him and Ando clutched his head. “Please stop talking.”
“He’s still upstairs, sleeping it off. You know, this is the first time ever I have seen him drunk.”
How had two tumblers turned into such a massive headache? Oh right. At one point, Takeshi had just bought the whole bottle, and another one after that. So he was drunk. Okay. “Glad to be of service.”
“I didn’t say I liked it.”
Ando slowly looked up, every movement a giant pain in the-- well, you know what. “You mad?”
Minako shrugged. “No, not really. He said you two had a nice day at the club.”
“Yeah, maybe. Kind of. Got nicer after we started drinking.” The television’s light was flashing into his eyes, and there was some excited kid shouting something at some other equally excited kid. It was all very loud and bright and bothersome. “What are you watching?”
“Old episodes of Gossip Girl.”
“Right.”
They were silent for a moment, except for Minako crunching her cereal and Ando groaning every once in a while. The TV was really getting on his nerves.
“Mi?”
“Yes?”
“You said you’re not mad. Why are torturing me?”
Minako put her spoon into the orange bowl and smiled. “Ask me what time it is.”
“Be nice, don’t play ‘annoy the drunkard’. Just tell me.”
“It’s two in the afternoon. Your date is in three hours. I thought you might appreciate some time to sober up and shower.”
“Fuck,” Ando cursed. “I need to get flowers.”
“You need to de-stink first. You and Takeshi went for the cigars.”
“We did?”
Minako nodded, an amused gleam in her eyes.
“You are looking way too smug for such an early hour. Go away.”
“You also told me that while Rei was the love of your life, all the boys - and I am quoting - got to love Usagi because she is so cute. Takeshi agreed.”
“He really was drunk.”
“So were you.”
“I want to die. Wait, it this the origin of the hair?”
Minako giggled. “It’s only fair if I tease him a bit.”
***
When he left the small house and made his way to the palace, the cool October air and the glaring sunshine were a welcome smack to his face. As far as he knew, Takeshi was still upstairs, sleeping.
Ando had gone out of his way to find an activity that he and the architect could bond over, and golf had seemed like such a good idea. Who knew that drinking was an even better one? It wasn’t as if they’d shared their deepest and darkest secrets, all their worries and their heartbreaks, both big and small, but they had talked about some things; some important things. Being shitennou. Being people. And being afraid, just a bit. Okay, Ando had talked about being afraid, and Takeshi had listened and once, nodded.
Well, maybe that was a good start. They could go golf again, at some point, and drink too, at a point much further down the line because right now, the thought of booze made Ando want to puke on his own trainers.
He reached the palace and snuck into a side entrance. Why nobody ever watched those entrances was a bit of a mystery. If he were working this story, Ando would be camped outside any and every entrance in a van, watching the comings and goings like a hawk. But nobody even noticed when he walked down the little sidestreet that lead to the back of the palace. Maybe it was magic too, Ando thought, and felt stupid for not having the idea beforehand. He’d have to talk to Ami and Mamoru about it.
Entering the palace after having spent the last twenty-four hours in the real world felt weird. The lack of people, the lack of colours, and most of all, the lack of sounds. There was no humming of electricity, no creaking of wood, nothing. Only his own footsteps as he made his way up to his tower room.
Inside, Umino was waiting, sitting cross-legged on Ando’s bed, immersed in a morning paper.
“Your date is in two hours,” the philosopher announced without looking up, “I just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t jumped out of the window because of nerves.”
“I was playing golf with Takeshi,” Ando said, and kicked his shoes off.
Umino lowered the paper and grinned. “Yesterday, you were. And then you got him drunk. Minako told me everything.”
“She’s such a gossip.”
“The best,” Umino replied and folded the paper up. “So, I take it you two didn’t kill each other. Good, Mamoru will be pleased to hear that.”
“What do I wear?” Ando asked, and threw himself back on the bed.
“Something that doesn’t smell like you circa fifteen years ago. I do have to say, this reek of booze and cigarettes brings back so many fond memories.” Ando swatted at Umino, but only hit the paper.
“What do I wear?”
“Nothing,” Umino deadpanned, “surprise her with your stunning body.”
“You are useless.”
“Useless and amused.”
Ando groaned and got up again. “I’m going to go take a shower now.”
“Enjoy your date. Try not to do something stupid.”
“Thanks for the words of encouragement.”
“You’re welcome,” Umino said, folded up his paper and left, chuckling as he did.
***
When Ando knocked on Rei’s door, dressed in his favourite clothes and holding a small bouquet of pink carnations, white roses and daisies, he wondered if he had been successful in washing the smell of last night away. He’d taken a really hot shower, really, really hot, almost blistering, and brushed his teeth three times. He’s also used more deodorant that he would for an afternoon at the gym (not that he ever went to the gym) and what could only be described as a very liberal dose of aftershave.
The door was pulled open and as Rei came into his vision. Ando began to smile, widely, all teeth showing, the kind of smile that after a while, hurts in the best way possible.
“Hi,” she said and smiled too. “Hi”, Ando repeated, and handed her the flowers.
“They are lovely, thank you. Come inside, I’m just going to put them in a vase.” Ando followed her in, trying his best not to stare at her bottom. The short burgundy dress she was wearing made that more difficult that he had thought possible, opaque tights notwithstanding. Trust her to be covered from head to toe (the dress had a turtleneck and long sleeves) and still be more attractive and alluring than most other women in their best lingerie.
Searching for something else to focus on, he began to look around and take in her apartment.
Her rooms looked nothing like his own. They weren’t located in a tower for one, but on ground level, with a set of double doors leading into a small garden that he had never seen before. He’d walked around the whole palace when he came back, not once, but twice, and yet, he had never seen it. Must be more concealing magic at work.
“Your place looks nice,” he said and Rei turned around with a shy smile. “Thanks. Minako tried to convince me to re-do it three times. She said it lacked some sparkle.” Looking around, Ando could see why Minako wouldn’t feel comfortable here. There wasn’t much furniture, only a cream-coloured couch, a dark wooden bookshelf, a tiny coffee table and a tall paper maché lamp. A few potted plants, and that was it. Rei disappeared into a door to the side and returned with a delicate bone china vase soon after. He held it for her while she placed the flowers inside, tweaking and rearranging them before taking the vase from his hands and settling it on the coffee table. They added a nice splash of colour to the room without taking away from its cool serenity. He decided to bring her flowers more often.
“Shall we go?” she asked, and Ando nodded. “I made reservations at a curry place. Ami said you liked curry.”
Rei laughed.
“What?”
“When we ordered curry, I ordered a salad.”
Ando’s face fell. “Oh. Oh crap.”
“No, it’s fine, let’s go have curry.” She moved towards the door, and gave him another smile, an encouraging one this time.
They left the palace through the front entrance, unnoticed and unseen. Rei was wearing a duffle coat the same shade of burgundy as the dress beneath it. All in all, she only wore three colours. The burgundy of her dress and coat, the black of her tights, scarf and gloves, and the gold of what little jewellery she had put on. Ando had noticed a slim gold ring on her left hand when she had pulled on her leather gloves, and half-hidden beneath her long black hair were small gold hoop earrings. Rei Hino was a woman who exuded class and as such, not the kind of woman Ando had ever been attracted to before. Before the memories and before her, he had always gone for the bubbly blondes with tiny skirts, high heels and wide lip-glossy smiles. He was actually sure that if he took Rei to meet his parents, they would adore her. Not that he had any plans to take her to New York; he didn’t think she’d like the city and he was confident that she wouldn’t like his parents either. Hell, he didn’t even like them himself.
“You’re quiet,” Rei said, and he chuckled.
“Doesn’t happen often, better enjoy it while it lasts.”
“So you asked Ami what I like to eat,” she said and threw him a sideways look, corners of her mouth turned ever so slightly upwards. “Who did you ask about the flowers and my taste in film?”
Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Ando grinned helplessly. “Usagi, Makoto and Mina.”
Rei laughed. “Very thorough.”
“Makoto refused to tell me anything though. Usagi and Mina told me that you like almost all kinds of flowers, so the choice is more or less my own. As for the movie, I thought we could just pick one together.”
“Sounds good.”
She was so calm and steady beside him, it seemed like a small wonder that once, she refused to even be in the same room as him. They had come a long way, and from here on out, the road would be travelled together. After so many years of solitary adventures, her company was more than welcome.
They reached the restaurant soon enough and took seats at the window table Ando had reserved for them. He helped Rei out of her coat, but didn’t pull out her chair. He always thought it was stupid, and simply refused to believe that any woman would like to be shuffled back to the table, careful not to bump her knees against it while her dinner companion shoved against the chair like a farmer against a stubborn cow blocking a road. A waiter brought them menus and they flipped them open simultaneously. Ando looked up just to see Rei peer at him from behind her menu. They both laughed.
“So, you’re going to have a salad?”
Rei smiled. “Yes.” There was an amused glint in her eyes that he wished he would get to see more often. More often as in every day. Once an hour would be good, too.
“What are you having?”
He raced his eyes over the menu, choosing randomly. “Chicken Vindaloo?”
She chuckled. “Don’t ask me, I don’t eat curry.”
The waiter returned, bearing a small try with a bottle of water and two glasses. They were silent while the glasses were placed onto the table, the bottle opened and the water poured. Afterwards, they placed their orders and the waiter returned to the kitchen.
“No wine?” she asked and Ando winced.
“Not today, if you don’t mind. Takeshi and I were out last night and--” he trailed off and began to fumble for his cigarettes before he remembered that smoking was probably prohibited in here anyway.
“You got drunk with Takeshi?” she asked, not sounding half as surprised as Ando had expected her to.
“Yeah, I thought we should bond and I took him golfing and then after we bonded, we bonded some more by drinking. He has good taste in whiskey, gotta give him that.”
Rei’s face went blank and she toyed with her glass. Ando couldn’t read her at all, the temptation of sneaking into her mind growing bigger and bigger with every other silent second. Had he disappointed her?
“He likes to drink,” she finally said, and now it was Ando’s turn to play with his glass and not say anything. Where had that come from? No accusation against his own wino tendencies, no “you got drunk the night before our date, shame on you”, only the simple statement and a look that could mean everything and nothing.
“He does?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “I hadn’t noticed.”
This time, he could read her face, read it like the printed pages of his favourite book. She was exasperated, but in a fond way. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said and shook her head, smiling more to herself than at him. “It was before you had even arrived and while you were gone.”
“Isn’t that the same?” Ando asked, pushing an elbow onto the table and leaning his face onto his hand.
“No, Ando, before you arrived the first time. Sixteen years ago.”
“Oh, then,” he said, and felt a bit dumb.
“Takeshi is more of vodka man, if I remember correctly,” she continued, “but taste does change.”
“Not mine,” he said, the words edged with meaning and sincerity and the kind of bravery that he only needed around her.“I’ve liked the same things for sixteen years, and I don’t see that changing.”
He held her gaze and she was the one to break it, tucking some hair behind her ears, smiling down at the table. Were she another woman, she would have blushed, Ando was sure of it.
***
They left the restaurant without dessert, and instead took a bus to take them to Makoto’s café. It wasn’t part of the plan Ando had concocted for the date, but since he also thought he’d take Rei to get some of her favourite food and instead watched her eat a salad, he felt she deserved the best chocolate cake Tokyo had to offer, and that meant that the stop at Makoto’s was a must.
Since it was Sunday, Makoto herself wasn’t there. She was with her husband and her kids, but her staff was well trained and the cake just as delicious as if the chef were present herself. Plus, it was nice to have the cake without being watched from behind the counter like a trained animal in a zoo.
“You spend a lot of time here,” Rei said after taking a dainty bite of cake. She didn’t make it a question.
“It’s nice. Feels homey,” Ando amended and leaned back into his chair. “I used to come here all the time before I left to travel, and old habits die hard.”
“They do indeed,” Rei answered, but didn’t elaborate. He went up and got himself a refill and brought her another chai tea. She accepted it with a smile and added honey from the little pot that sat on every table. Ando watched her, and it reminded him of his coffee with Setsuna. Both women were graceful and poised and somewhat sharp.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Ando said and tilted his head. He relied on her opinion and since his return, she had been unequivocal in both her support and honesty.
“Of course,” she replied and put her fork down.
“Setsuna. Is she a friend of yours?”
Rei narrowed her eyes. “She is one of us. Of course.”
Okay, thin ice ahead, Ando thought. “And she is a nice person?”
“Yes.”
“And you like her?”
“That should be clear from my previous answers. What are you asking, Ando?”
He searched for the right words, but couldn’t find them. He couldn’t tell her that he thought her friend was a mean bitch, and he didn’t dare to mention the flashback to the Silver Millennium. He was afraid that if he did, it would take Rei and him back to square one, and he was pretty sure his liver couldn’t take another year of heartbreak induced boozing. So he shrugged. “Just trying to get a feel for her. She is tricky to get to know.”
It wasn’t a lie. At least it wasn’t a lie, he told himself, and switched the topic. “Did you already hear about Bones?”
“Excuse me?” Her violet eyes were clueless, and he laughed. “It’s how Hiro named the dog I got his daughter. Like the character in Stark Trek? Aiko wanted to call him Buttercup, but Hiro won out by letting her pick a pink leash.”
“You got Aiko a dog?”
“Usagi’s idea.”
Rei groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ando, don’t listen to Usagi. She and Minako believe that everyone needs to be as obsessed with pets as they are.” As an afterthought, she added: “What did Makoto say?”
“Nothing while I was still in ear shot.”
As he recounted little Aiko’s glee and the tutus and Makoto’s silence and Hiro’s indulgent smiles, whatever tension had accumulated in that brief moment where he dared to question another senshi melted away.
They wound up staying in the café until closing time, never even remembering that they were supposed to go see a movie. Instead they slowly walked back to the palace, a trip that should have taken no more than twenty minutes, but took another two hours instead. They paused at several small shops, buying some more hot drinks and sweets that they shared on the way. He learned that she had even more of sweet tooth than Minako and Usagi combined, and liked to be teased about it. He also learned that she preferred gummibears to chocolate and hated licorice.
All of this he learned as they ambled through a park and sat down on a bench, catching up with each other. They talked about the years between them and the years ahead of them, and about their friends and families. She laughed when he told her about his parents’ poodle, and he smiled when he recounted how her mother had tried to cook for Rei when she was little and instead managed to set a pan on fire. Every once in a while, they held hands. Two hours went by in what felt like two minutes and eventually, the big palace came into view again. It stretched out above them, covering the sky and the stars and even the moon.
Ando stared up at it and swallowed. “Don’t tell Hiro, but I agree. It’s a scary place.” The tall crystal spires seemed to reach so far into the sky that they threatened to pierce the stars and shatter them as they had the many buildings across Tokyo. It seemed inconceivable that he now lived in one of those spires, far removed from the life beneath it.
Rei looked up, taking in the palace that blocked the view of everything behind it. “It is a big change for all of us.”
Standing in front of the palace on her flat shoes, she looked tiny, breakable. If he could, he would have built her a house far away from this, a place that could be a home to her. But maybe she liked it here, maybe it didn’t make her feel as tiny as it did him. Maybe it made her feel big, an important part of humanity’s future. He didn’t know, but he wanted to.
“Do you like living here?” The question tumbled from his lips and he watched her face as she answered.
She sighed. “Sometimes. I like being close to Usagi and I like that it’s quiet here. And it’s not as if I have anywhere else to go.”
Ando reached for her hand. “I’m sorry about the temple,”
“Not your fault,” she answered, her voice heavy. He could see the weight on her slim shoulders and hated it with a vengeance.
“Still,” he insisted. “It must have been hard for you to see your home like that.”
“That’s the thing... It hasn’t been my home in a long, long time. Not since-” she trailed off and Ando finished the sentence for her. “Not since your grandfather died.”
She nodded, and reclaimed her hand, wiping away the tears that had snuck up her. She was still looking at the palace, her head held high. “Say something funny before I ruin our date by starting to cry.”
He didn’t point out that she was already crying, and that as far as he was concerned, nothing could ruin an evening that he got to spend in her company. In fact, Ando didn’t say anything at all. He just reached for her hand again and pulled her towards him. She came willingly and just as he placed his free hand on her hip, she rested hers against his chest. It was natural, completely in sync, the way it should be. The way it should have been many, many years ago. He could smell her perfume, heady and sweet. He could smell autumn in the air, but looking at her, felt spring in his bones.
“Sixteen years,” Ando whispered and Rei smiled through her tears.
Her answer was a whisper too and it send a million goosebumps dancing over his skin. “And not a day more.”
And with that, she kissed him, the palace looming behind them like an angry mountain.
*** End of Chapter Four ***
Click here for Chapter Five.
First half of this chapter can be found here.
Friday:
The question of where to take Setsuna for coffee had been solved by the contents of a thick cream envelope Ando found taped against his door earlier that day. It contained a map of the palace, made by hand, a myriad of strong straight lines etched into white paper. An x had been marked onto two spots. Beside the first x, someone (presumably Setsuna) had written “Ando Tanaka’s room” in elegant black script. The other x simple read “meeting point”. It was located in the southern part of the palace, far away from Rei’s room, his room, Umino’s and Ami’s apartment, the royal couple’s chambers and just about every place that Ando was already familiar with.
The envelope also held a small white card. There was no signature, no greeting, no phone number, only one word: now. Ando blinked. He’d been under the impression that they would meet later in the afternoon, but okay, yeah, he could to do now as well.
Stepping back into his room, he quickly threw his jacket, scarf, and hat back on the bed; he wouldn’t need them if they just stayed in the palace. He reached for his mobile and typed a quick text to both Usagi and Umino: the three of them had made plans to have breakfast together again and Ando felt sorry about having to miss it. Truth be told, it had been a while since he had felt as relaxed and at ease as he had when he spent the morning in bed with Usagi and Umino, munching sandwiches, watching news, and eventually plotting how to get Makoto to accept a new pet into her household. It had been fun.
As he gave the map a cursory glance, he wondered if he would have fun with Setsuna Meioh. Usagi clearly admired the older woman, and had spoken of her with almost childish admiration. Umino, who was just as nice as Usagi, but less dewy-eyed in his outlook on life, had seconded Usagi’s statements about how elegant and smart Setsuna was, but he had also said something else, something that Ando kept coming back to.
“She’s very hard to read.”
Now, of course Ando had a certain advantage here. While Umino wasn’t able to peer into Setsuna’s head to make out her thoughts and motivations, Ando was. Figuratively, not literally, of course. Granted, he wasn’t as good at the whole mind-reading thing as he had been in his past lives, but over the years, he had practiced, reacquainting himself with the gift that had once made the high priest choose him as a shitennou.
He had read the thoughts of a cute waitress back in Milan, of an antique seller in Brussels (he hadn’t bought that lamp after all; it was about as antique as Aiko’s Barbie dreamhouse), of the Tuareg driver of his jeep in Algeria, and of many, many more he had met along the way. On the flight back to Crystal Tokyo, he’d sworn to himself not to pry into the minds of his friends. It was rude (not that he generally had a problem with that) and a breach of trust. It would make everyone even more wary of him than they were now, and he couldn’t have that - no, didn’t want that.
So ever since he had returned, he had shut it down, relied only on the information he could gleam from the things people said, and in some cases, didn’t say. Body language too, of course. But no mind-reading.
Walking down the hallways, the crystal floors gleaming under his feet and the volcano’s flames dancing behind their glassy prison walls, he wondered if he had to apply the same rules to Setsuna as he did to Umino, Usagi, Minako, Makoto, Rei, and everyone else. Part of him didn’t think so. The tall woman was a stranger to him, and the ties of friendship did not yet bind them together. Of course, if he read her mind and she noticed, they might never become friends in the first place.
After about ten minutes, he found the door that Setsuna had marked on the map. It was nothing special, and he might have walked past it a number of times already, but never really looked at it. Ando frowned. He would have rather met her somewhere else. A café, a park, somewhere normal, somewhere out in the open.
But she had called the shots, and with this one note and map, had tipped the balance in her favour. Ando didn’t like other people telling him what to do, where to go, how to behave. He made a very rare exception for Mamoru, but the doctor wasn’t even aware of that yet, which was good. Setsuna Meioh wasn’t Mamoru though and just as he knocked on the door, Ando could feel his temper rise.
The door swung open by its own accord and Ando stepped into white mist.
As soon as he heard the door fall shut behind him, he turned around. It was gone. His heart beat faster, and while he knew that Setsuna wouldn’t hurt him, he didn’t appreciate this blatant display of power.
“I’m here,” he proclaimed, his voice thin in the white nothingness. If he looked down at his feet, he couldn’t even see a proper floor, even though he knew, felt, that he was standing on it. Looking up, there was no ceiling. Everything stretched out around him without an end point in sight and Ando’s stomach did an unpleasant lurch. He didn’t like this, didn’t like this at all.
“Hello Ando,” a voice said, and Sailor Pluto stepped out of the mist. It danced and coiled around her, her and her giant silver staff with the big red ruby in it. It was the very first time Ando had seen a senshi in this life. He had memories of the past to fall back on, but those were the memories of Jadeite, and of the shadow that had been resurrected during the Dark Kingdom era. Ando Tanaka, the journalist and traveller, had never seen a senshi up close and personal.
“Nice skirt,” he said dryly. None of the girls had ever seen the need to transform around him, and the fact that Setsuna did didn’t bode well.
“Follow me,” she said and stretched her arm out into the nothingness as if to indicate a place in the distance. Ando planted his feet firmly onto the ground.
“You know what, I don’t think so. Let’s go and have a coffee somewhere. Somewhere with actual walls. I am quite partial to them.” His tone was light, but he was on edge. The mist and the way it moved unsettled him. It reminded him of the big water snakes he had seen gliding through the Amazonian River, just a light ripple on the water’s surface, but he’d always known that they could overturn his rickety boat in a second.
“As you wish,” Pluto answered and just to his right, the door reappeared. Fighting to hide his relief, Ando gave a little bow. “After you, my lady.” Setsuna barely smiled and walked past, breezing through the door that once again opened without a human’s touch. Ando hurried after her, impatient to be surrounded by the crystalline walls of the palace once again .
But it was not the palace the door lead back into.
“What the fuck---” he bit out, eyes wide. Above them, the blue sky stretched over the walls like colour on canvas. Beneath them, sleek pavement lead to a big, modern building, one that Ando very, very familiar with.
“The museum of modern art!” he exclaimed, staring at what should be a crystalline tower and a few ruinous blocks of cement. “But it was destroyed! I saw it on the news.”
Pluto shrugged and twisted her right hand in a circular motion, almost the way he did after a long day of writing. The senshi uniform fell away into a brief flash of pink light, and a grey pantsuit took the place of the warrior guardian’s attire. “Shall we go in to have some coffee?”
For once stunned into silence, Ando followed her. As they made their way up the steps leading to the main entrance, Ando reached out to touch the banister. It felt real, solid. Inside, people were queuing for tickets, he could see tourists in the museum’s souvenir shop, and of course, to the right, the familiar sight of the museum’s spacious café presented itself. Setsuna walked in, choosing a table close to the big windows at the front. She wore high heels to make herself even taller: not that it was already bad enough that she was able to kidnap him, Ando thought angrily, no, she also had to tower over him.
Sitting down and gracefully crossing her long legs, she looked back to the entrance, where Ando was still rooted to the spot. “Are you coming in?” she asked dryly.
Willing his feet to move forward, Ando made his through the café. It was just like he’d remembered it to be, the way he’s seen it the last time he was here, over fourteen years ago. Down to the newspapers by the door, and the brunette waitress behind the counter, everything was the same. It finally clicked.
“We are in the past.”
“Where else would we be? As you said, the building was destroyed.”
He sank down onto his chair. It was too much. Yes, there was the whole crystal palace part. Yes, the thing about Usagi being able to sprout wings in dire situations. Okay, the mind-reading. All of that was out of the norm, but he had been able to wrap his mind around it. Even being two people at once, Ando and Jadeite, even that. Granted, it had taken him a lot of booze, more than a decade, and more air miles than any other person had ever accumulated, but he had been able to understand it. This however was beyond him.
“If you can just transport us back into the past, then why can’t you go back two months and make sure that nobody tapes Usagi and Mamoru during the sealing of the volcano?”
Setsuna shrugged. “Because that’s not how it works.” He could tell that she was amused, found his bafflement funny. Something inside him snapped.
“Please don’t take this personally, but you’re a bitch,” he said and smiled at her, poison sweet.
“I was told that you have a bit of temper,” she replied evenly and cocked a brow. “You need to work on your self-control if you ever hope to protect your prince.”
Rage rose in him like an angry wave. “Would you say you have a lot of self-control?”
“Yes,” she simply said.
“And you too want to protect your princess?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’d say self-control doesn’t really help with that. You may have it, but last time I checked, she still died during the attack on the moon.”
“Careful. Pandora’s box should remain firmly shut.” For just a second, the café fell away and was replaced by another scenery. The barren land of the moon, the fallen palace, the dead on the floor.
Ando closed his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“You can look again,” she said, and her voice was neither hostile nor kind. He opened his eyes, and his eyes fell onto the waitress who brought them two coffees. Setsuna smiled at the girl. “Thank you.”
Once the waitress left, Setsuna reached for a small pack of sugar and ripped it open with her perfectly manicured hands. As soon as the last sugar had dropped into the black coffee, she began to stir it with the silver spoon. “I have made my point,” she said, “now, what did you want to talk about?”
***
Saturday:
Of course Takeshi had insisted on a teetime at a completely ridiculous hour. Eight o’clock on Saturday. Who the fuck got up at eight on a Saturday? “Insane people, that’s who,” Ando grumbled just as Takeshi took a swing. The ball soared to the right, and the architect turned to Ando with a face like thunder.
“Oh, stuff it,” Ando muttered before Takeshi could complain and walked onto the tee area. He’d chosen a Titleist driver for his first shot, but he was still so angry about Setsuna fucking Meioh, he would have preferred a bloody baseball bat. Bending down, he shoved the tee into the soft ground and placed the yellow golf ball onto it. Straightening up, he got himself into position.
“Feet further apart,” Takeshi interrupted, and Ando glared at him.
“I know how to fucking play.” Not bothering with a test swing, he gave it his all, hitting the ball with as much force as he had. It soared off the tee, into the sky, and landed 150 metres away, right in front of the putting green. Bending down, Ando ripped the broken tee out of the ground, stuffed in his pocket and wondered when life had stopped being fun.
“Let’s look for your ball in the rough,” he said to Takeshi, shouldered his bag, and began to march down the hill.
***
Despite his bad mood, Ando wasn’t a man given to silence. He liked to talk, liked to find out things that people didn’t want him to find out, liked to connect. And - even though many people didn’t think him capable of it - also liked to listen. He was attentive, at least when he wanted to be. He had heard the way Minako had spoken about her relationship to his grumbly golf partner and remembering his friend’s sad and angry eyes. He felt that he owed it to her to try to talk to Takeshi on her behalf. Hell, if certainly beat thinking about Setsuna and whatever shitty point the older woman had been trying to make.
So two holes later, just as Takeshi planted his feet into position and took his swing, Ando abandoned his sullen silence. “Why are you not talking to Minako?”
Startled at the last second, Takeshi shifted a bit and his shot rocketed wildly in the wrong direction. It landed in a bunker twenty metres to their right.
“Would you shut up while I’m taking a swing?” Takeshi snarled, and Ando rolled his eyes.
“Only bad players are disrupted by talking. That’s what my coach always used to say.”
Takeshi turned to him with surprise in his eyes. “You had a golf coach? I thought you couldn’t play.”
“The fact that I played the last two holes two under par should have told you differently. So, what’s with the locking yourself away and not talking to your fiancée?”
“I thought we were here to play golf, not to chat,” Takeshi responded, his eyes narrowing.
“Actually, I thought it would be good for us to bond. So golf, right? And man, 18 holes without talking are boring. So what’s with you?”
“I am not discussing my relationship with you.” The icy tone made it clear that this topic was now closed, and Ando suddenly had an epiphany: Minako had shut him up just as effectively when they’d been out with Attila three days ago. So maybe the architect and his bubbly friend were a match made in heaven after all.
They made their way down to the bunker, where Takeshi’s white ball gleamed teasingly in the sunlight. Ando’s own golf ball was another fifty metres down the hole, again nestling close to the putting green. Takeshi climbed into the bunker, took a shot, and the ball flew right above Ando’s head, landing a bit further down. Truth be told, it was still a crappy shot, but Ando didn’t quite feel like telling Takeshi that. They walked towards the ball, still far away from Ando’s golf ball, and even further away from the putting green. Now that one big common denominator, namely Minako, had been taken off the table, Takeshi was obviously hoping that the rest of the game would be spent in silence.
But just because they couldn’t talk about Minako didn’t mean he and Takeshi wouldn’t find another subject, oh no. There was plenty to chose from, a big buffet of tricky subjects waiting just for them.
So Ando shrugged and chose the main course, knowing it would make Umino proud. He walked up to Takeshi, who was taking a second practice swing, fingers gripping the 6 iron as if he wanted to throttle it. Ando could tell by how the architect pressed his lips together that the third time would be the charm: this one wouldn’t be a practice shot. Time to poke the bear, Ando thought. “Let’s talk about something else then. How about you needing to apologise to Ami?”
This time, Takeshi missed the ball completely and instead hit the grass, sending chunks of it flying into every direction.
***
After a series of withering glares from Takeshi, holes four till seven were spent in silence. Ando liked reasonable risks, but he didn’t have a death wish, so he’d decided to shut up for a while. His motivation behind this little outing had not been to make Takeshi hate him, but to bond with the man.
When they reached the putting green of hole eight and Takeshi missed the hole three times even though it was only a metre away, Ando almost felt bad for the architect. It was clear that the question about Ami had shaken him up. Well, as much as anything ever did. He didn’t show it; his hands didn’t twitch, he didn’t cry, he didn’t even frown, but his game had turned from bad to worse and Ando always found that that said a lot about a man. Takeshi took a soft swing, and the ball rolled past the hole once more. Next thing he knew, Ando saw Takeshi toss his putter into the rough with full force.
“Ooookay,” Ando said slowly and walked into the thigh high grass to retrieve the club. He found it soon enough, but it had hit a tree and was slightly bent. In the world of golf, a slightly bent club was a completely useless one. Snatching his own one from his bag, he made his way to Takeshi and handed it to him. “You’ll need a new one, but we can share mine for the rest of the game.”
Takeshi accepted it, and finally sank the golf ball into the hole. He was once more perfectly calm, and had Ando not known any better, he would have said he’d only imagined the other man’s outburst. Takeshi looked at the hole for a moment before bending down to retrieve the ball and put the flag pole back in afterwards.
He remained crouching on the green, his silver head bent.
“How is Ami?” he finally asked, and Ando’s shoulders sagged. This was progress, this was good.
“Sad. Worried. Like you,” he amended.
“And Umino?”
Takeshi looked up and met Ando’s eyes.
“You better talk to him yourself.”
Takeshi nodded gravely. “I will. Thanks for the putter.” He pushed himself up, and brushed some grass from his beige pants.
Ando smiled. “It’s nothing. Just don’t break it next time you hulk up.”
***
“You are not wearing proper attire,” Takeshi complained and leaned onto his 9 iron. At hole 17, his tone was friendly, and Ando knew that Takeshi was just complaining because he liked to complain, not because he actually had something to complain about. He was okay with that; there was no substance behind it, and he knew that Takeshi was actually finally enjoying himself.
“I am wearing the shoes, the pants, and the glove. Shut up, my ‘attire’ is fine. And put that 9 iron away, you don’t know what to do with it anyway. Take the driver, damn it, and hit the ball with all you’re worth.”
“Did your coach tell you that?”
“No, I learned that during an anger management class. Hit the ball.”
“Why did you have a golf coach anyway?”
“Because my father wanted me to and I hadn’t yet learned how to rebel. Any other stupid questions?”
“Yes. Did Minako say something to you?”
Ando stopped rifling through his golf bag. He knew there was quicksand ahead and a fire wall behind. “She feels neglected,” he finally said, more thoughtful than he normally was. “You’ve got to stop locking that door, it drives her nuts.” He pulled his own driver out of the bag and offered it to the architect.
“Anything else?” Takeshi asked and accepted the club from Ando’s gloved hand.
“She thinks you won’t notice if she drowns in the tub. Please notice if she drowns in the tub, Usagi would be devastated,” Ando quipped, his worry hidden beneath humour and a smirk.
Of course, Takeshi didn’t fall for it. He twisted the club, lifting it up to his face to examine it. “Minako is an excellent swimmer, but I wouldn’t want to risk upsetting Usagi. I’ll make sure she doesn’t drown.”
After that, Takeshi played a half-decent last hole. The two men went into the club’s restaurant to check out the score sheet, even though it was clear to both of them that Ando had kicked Takeshi’s arse seven ways to Sunday.
Ordering two coffees, two beers, and a few sandwiches, Takeshi leaned back against his chair.
“How did your meeting with Setsuna go yesterday?”
Not mincing his words, Ando almost spit on the table. “She’s a bitch.”
“Interesting. Not an impression I share.”
Ando leaned forward, checking left and right that nobody was listening in on them. “She took me back in time. First to the Museum of Modern Art, before the crystal, and then to the moon. Fun times.” Ando leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. The memory alone was enough to set him on edge again. He hated that, hated the effect Setsuna had had on him with just one brief flash of the past. In that moment, he’d been so terrified that he’d completely forgotten to read her mind. So much for that genius plan of his, he thought, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. He looked around the room, checking for a non-smoking sign, but didn’t find one. “Can I smoke in here?”
Instead of answering, Takeshi twisted in his chair, and turned to pluck an ashtray from the table behind them. He placed it in front of Ando. “Thanks,” the journalist muttered and immediately lit up.
“Will you ever give up on this disgusting habit?”
Ando shrugged. “No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows.”
Their food and beverages arrived and even though Ando would have preferred to start with the beer, he reached for the delicate coffee cup and saucer instead. It had been quite cold outside, and four plus hours in the fresh late October air weren’t nothing. The coffee was okay, not as good as Makoto’s though. Takeshi too chose the coffee first, but didn’t drink from it. He just balanced the saucer with the cup on it in his right hand, as if wondering where to put it. “So she took you back. To which time exactly?”
“What do you think? To me frolicking with Mars in a dark hallway?”
Slowly, Takeshi lowered the saucer back onto the table. He didn’t meet Ando’s eyes. “No, presumably not.”
“I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it,” Ando said, his voice low but agitated. “I don’t need a reminder of what I - we - fucked up, it’s on my mind often enough.”
Takeshi looked up. “I do not necessarily agree with this.”
“Say what?”
“You are very keen to relive this past.”
“I am-- what the fuck are you talking about?”
“The crystals, the ‘PR’, all of this leads to one thing: to you becoming Jadeite once more, leaving Ando behind.”
“Is that what you think? That once we become proper guardians again, we can’t be who we are now?”
Takeshi looked him, his green eyes full of turmoil. “It’s the logical conclusion.”
“You are wrong, Takeshi, we can be both.”
“I don’t think we can.”
Stubbing his cigarette out, Ando gave the architect a long look. “So that’s why you’re hiding from Minako. Because you think she wants you to turn into Kunzite again and that scares the shit out of you. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Minako doesn’t want to turn me into anything, Ando,” Takeshi said, “she just sees the future in a different light.”
“In a bright one. You’re too pessimistic by half.”
“I see myself as a realist,” Takeshi answered solemnly, and Ando - not knowing what else to do - waved to the waiter. He appeared promptly.
“Hi, can I have two big tumblers of whiskey, one for my realistic friend here, and one for me? Thanks.”
Takeshi snorted. “I am not getting drunk with you.”
“One tumbler doesn’t make you drunk, even your girl can take more than that. Now shut up and get started on your beer.”
And to Ando’s surprise, Takeshi did.
***
Sunday:
When Ando had planned his week and made his date with Rei for Sunday, he had thought he’d spend the morning with Umino, having breakfast, being silly, and if necessary, let him talk him down to avoid a panic attack.
But you know, the best laid plans of mice and men, and all that jazz.
Ando did not wake up in the palace.
Instead, he woke with his face pushed into red fabric, to the sound of a coffee machine dripping and a television blaring. Groaning, he turned to his back, bumping against something soft and furry.
“Careful, don’t bump Attila off the couch.” Ando opened his eyes (a process that was both difficult and painful). The white painted ceiling above looked familiar, and also, not crystalline. He was not in the palace.
“I am not in the palace,” he murmured, and pushed himself up on his elbows. The simple movement caused his stomach to lurch. Not good. This was not good.
“Now, think. Think hard. You have three clues. Red couch. Dog. My voice. Where might you be?”
Turning his head into the direction of the voice, his eyes came to rest on one Minako Aino, sitting on her plush armchair with a bowl of cereal in her hands. His friend was wearing Spongebob pyjama bottoms, a Sailor V t-shirt, and weirdly enough, Usagi’s trademark hairstyle, only minus the pony tails. It looked kind of as if she had stuck two rockmelons to her head and covered them with hair.
“Your hair gives me a headache,” Ando groaned and sat up. He was still in his golf clothes, minus jacket and shoes.
“You got my boyfriend drunk,” Minako sing-songed at him and Ando clutched his head. “Please stop talking.”
“He’s still upstairs, sleeping it off. You know, this is the first time ever I have seen him drunk.”
How had two tumblers turned into such a massive headache? Oh right. At one point, Takeshi had just bought the whole bottle, and another one after that. So he was drunk. Okay. “Glad to be of service.”
“I didn’t say I liked it.”
Ando slowly looked up, every movement a giant pain in the-- well, you know what. “You mad?”
Minako shrugged. “No, not really. He said you two had a nice day at the club.”
“Yeah, maybe. Kind of. Got nicer after we started drinking.” The television’s light was flashing into his eyes, and there was some excited kid shouting something at some other equally excited kid. It was all very loud and bright and bothersome. “What are you watching?”
“Old episodes of Gossip Girl.”
“Right.”
They were silent for a moment, except for Minako crunching her cereal and Ando groaning every once in a while. The TV was really getting on his nerves.
“Mi?”
“Yes?”
“You said you’re not mad. Why are torturing me?”
Minako put her spoon into the orange bowl and smiled. “Ask me what time it is.”
“Be nice, don’t play ‘annoy the drunkard’. Just tell me.”
“It’s two in the afternoon. Your date is in three hours. I thought you might appreciate some time to sober up and shower.”
“Fuck,” Ando cursed. “I need to get flowers.”
“You need to de-stink first. You and Takeshi went for the cigars.”
“We did?”
Minako nodded, an amused gleam in her eyes.
“You are looking way too smug for such an early hour. Go away.”
“You also told me that while Rei was the love of your life, all the boys - and I am quoting - got to love Usagi because she is so cute. Takeshi agreed.”
“He really was drunk.”
“So were you.”
“I want to die. Wait, it this the origin of the hair?”
Minako giggled. “It’s only fair if I tease him a bit.”
***
When he left the small house and made his way to the palace, the cool October air and the glaring sunshine were a welcome smack to his face. As far as he knew, Takeshi was still upstairs, sleeping.
Ando had gone out of his way to find an activity that he and the architect could bond over, and golf had seemed like such a good idea. Who knew that drinking was an even better one? It wasn’t as if they’d shared their deepest and darkest secrets, all their worries and their heartbreaks, both big and small, but they had talked about some things; some important things. Being shitennou. Being people. And being afraid, just a bit. Okay, Ando had talked about being afraid, and Takeshi had listened and once, nodded.
Well, maybe that was a good start. They could go golf again, at some point, and drink too, at a point much further down the line because right now, the thought of booze made Ando want to puke on his own trainers.
He reached the palace and snuck into a side entrance. Why nobody ever watched those entrances was a bit of a mystery. If he were working this story, Ando would be camped outside any and every entrance in a van, watching the comings and goings like a hawk. But nobody even noticed when he walked down the little sidestreet that lead to the back of the palace. Maybe it was magic too, Ando thought, and felt stupid for not having the idea beforehand. He’d have to talk to Ami and Mamoru about it.
Entering the palace after having spent the last twenty-four hours in the real world felt weird. The lack of people, the lack of colours, and most of all, the lack of sounds. There was no humming of electricity, no creaking of wood, nothing. Only his own footsteps as he made his way up to his tower room.
Inside, Umino was waiting, sitting cross-legged on Ando’s bed, immersed in a morning paper.
“Your date is in two hours,” the philosopher announced without looking up, “I just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t jumped out of the window because of nerves.”
“I was playing golf with Takeshi,” Ando said, and kicked his shoes off.
Umino lowered the paper and grinned. “Yesterday, you were. And then you got him drunk. Minako told me everything.”
“She’s such a gossip.”
“The best,” Umino replied and folded the paper up. “So, I take it you two didn’t kill each other. Good, Mamoru will be pleased to hear that.”
“What do I wear?” Ando asked, and threw himself back on the bed.
“Something that doesn’t smell like you circa fifteen years ago. I do have to say, this reek of booze and cigarettes brings back so many fond memories.” Ando swatted at Umino, but only hit the paper.
“What do I wear?”
“Nothing,” Umino deadpanned, “surprise her with your stunning body.”
“You are useless.”
“Useless and amused.”
Ando groaned and got up again. “I’m going to go take a shower now.”
“Enjoy your date. Try not to do something stupid.”
“Thanks for the words of encouragement.”
“You’re welcome,” Umino said, folded up his paper and left, chuckling as he did.
***
When Ando knocked on Rei’s door, dressed in his favourite clothes and holding a small bouquet of pink carnations, white roses and daisies, he wondered if he had been successful in washing the smell of last night away. He’d taken a really hot shower, really, really hot, almost blistering, and brushed his teeth three times. He’s also used more deodorant that he would for an afternoon at the gym (not that he ever went to the gym) and what could only be described as a very liberal dose of aftershave.
The door was pulled open and as Rei came into his vision. Ando began to smile, widely, all teeth showing, the kind of smile that after a while, hurts in the best way possible.
“Hi,” she said and smiled too. “Hi”, Ando repeated, and handed her the flowers.
“They are lovely, thank you. Come inside, I’m just going to put them in a vase.” Ando followed her in, trying his best not to stare at her bottom. The short burgundy dress she was wearing made that more difficult that he had thought possible, opaque tights notwithstanding. Trust her to be covered from head to toe (the dress had a turtleneck and long sleeves) and still be more attractive and alluring than most other women in their best lingerie.
Searching for something else to focus on, he began to look around and take in her apartment.
Her rooms looked nothing like his own. They weren’t located in a tower for one, but on ground level, with a set of double doors leading into a small garden that he had never seen before. He’d walked around the whole palace when he came back, not once, but twice, and yet, he had never seen it. Must be more concealing magic at work.
“Your place looks nice,” he said and Rei turned around with a shy smile. “Thanks. Minako tried to convince me to re-do it three times. She said it lacked some sparkle.” Looking around, Ando could see why Minako wouldn’t feel comfortable here. There wasn’t much furniture, only a cream-coloured couch, a dark wooden bookshelf, a tiny coffee table and a tall paper maché lamp. A few potted plants, and that was it. Rei disappeared into a door to the side and returned with a delicate bone china vase soon after. He held it for her while she placed the flowers inside, tweaking and rearranging them before taking the vase from his hands and settling it on the coffee table. They added a nice splash of colour to the room without taking away from its cool serenity. He decided to bring her flowers more often.
“Shall we go?” she asked, and Ando nodded. “I made reservations at a curry place. Ami said you liked curry.”
Rei laughed.
“What?”
“When we ordered curry, I ordered a salad.”
Ando’s face fell. “Oh. Oh crap.”
“No, it’s fine, let’s go have curry.” She moved towards the door, and gave him another smile, an encouraging one this time.
They left the palace through the front entrance, unnoticed and unseen. Rei was wearing a duffle coat the same shade of burgundy as the dress beneath it. All in all, she only wore three colours. The burgundy of her dress and coat, the black of her tights, scarf and gloves, and the gold of what little jewellery she had put on. Ando had noticed a slim gold ring on her left hand when she had pulled on her leather gloves, and half-hidden beneath her long black hair were small gold hoop earrings. Rei Hino was a woman who exuded class and as such, not the kind of woman Ando had ever been attracted to before. Before the memories and before her, he had always gone for the bubbly blondes with tiny skirts, high heels and wide lip-glossy smiles. He was actually sure that if he took Rei to meet his parents, they would adore her. Not that he had any plans to take her to New York; he didn’t think she’d like the city and he was confident that she wouldn’t like his parents either. Hell, he didn’t even like them himself.
“You’re quiet,” Rei said, and he chuckled.
“Doesn’t happen often, better enjoy it while it lasts.”
“So you asked Ami what I like to eat,” she said and threw him a sideways look, corners of her mouth turned ever so slightly upwards. “Who did you ask about the flowers and my taste in film?”
Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Ando grinned helplessly. “Usagi, Makoto and Mina.”
Rei laughed. “Very thorough.”
“Makoto refused to tell me anything though. Usagi and Mina told me that you like almost all kinds of flowers, so the choice is more or less my own. As for the movie, I thought we could just pick one together.”
“Sounds good.”
She was so calm and steady beside him, it seemed like a small wonder that once, she refused to even be in the same room as him. They had come a long way, and from here on out, the road would be travelled together. After so many years of solitary adventures, her company was more than welcome.
They reached the restaurant soon enough and took seats at the window table Ando had reserved for them. He helped Rei out of her coat, but didn’t pull out her chair. He always thought it was stupid, and simply refused to believe that any woman would like to be shuffled back to the table, careful not to bump her knees against it while her dinner companion shoved against the chair like a farmer against a stubborn cow blocking a road. A waiter brought them menus and they flipped them open simultaneously. Ando looked up just to see Rei peer at him from behind her menu. They both laughed.
“So, you’re going to have a salad?”
Rei smiled. “Yes.” There was an amused glint in her eyes that he wished he would get to see more often. More often as in every day. Once an hour would be good, too.
“What are you having?”
He raced his eyes over the menu, choosing randomly. “Chicken Vindaloo?”
She chuckled. “Don’t ask me, I don’t eat curry.”
The waiter returned, bearing a small try with a bottle of water and two glasses. They were silent while the glasses were placed onto the table, the bottle opened and the water poured. Afterwards, they placed their orders and the waiter returned to the kitchen.
“No wine?” she asked and Ando winced.
“Not today, if you don’t mind. Takeshi and I were out last night and--” he trailed off and began to fumble for his cigarettes before he remembered that smoking was probably prohibited in here anyway.
“You got drunk with Takeshi?” she asked, not sounding half as surprised as Ando had expected her to.
“Yeah, I thought we should bond and I took him golfing and then after we bonded, we bonded some more by drinking. He has good taste in whiskey, gotta give him that.”
Rei’s face went blank and she toyed with her glass. Ando couldn’t read her at all, the temptation of sneaking into her mind growing bigger and bigger with every other silent second. Had he disappointed her?
“He likes to drink,” she finally said, and now it was Ando’s turn to play with his glass and not say anything. Where had that come from? No accusation against his own wino tendencies, no “you got drunk the night before our date, shame on you”, only the simple statement and a look that could mean everything and nothing.
“He does?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “I hadn’t noticed.”
This time, he could read her face, read it like the printed pages of his favourite book. She was exasperated, but in a fond way. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said and shook her head, smiling more to herself than at him. “It was before you had even arrived and while you were gone.”
“Isn’t that the same?” Ando asked, pushing an elbow onto the table and leaning his face onto his hand.
“No, Ando, before you arrived the first time. Sixteen years ago.”
“Oh, then,” he said, and felt a bit dumb.
“Takeshi is more of vodka man, if I remember correctly,” she continued, “but taste does change.”
“Not mine,” he said, the words edged with meaning and sincerity and the kind of bravery that he only needed around her.“I’ve liked the same things for sixteen years, and I don’t see that changing.”
He held her gaze and she was the one to break it, tucking some hair behind her ears, smiling down at the table. Were she another woman, she would have blushed, Ando was sure of it.
***
They left the restaurant without dessert, and instead took a bus to take them to Makoto’s café. It wasn’t part of the plan Ando had concocted for the date, but since he also thought he’d take Rei to get some of her favourite food and instead watched her eat a salad, he felt she deserved the best chocolate cake Tokyo had to offer, and that meant that the stop at Makoto’s was a must.
Since it was Sunday, Makoto herself wasn’t there. She was with her husband and her kids, but her staff was well trained and the cake just as delicious as if the chef were present herself. Plus, it was nice to have the cake without being watched from behind the counter like a trained animal in a zoo.
“You spend a lot of time here,” Rei said after taking a dainty bite of cake. She didn’t make it a question.
“It’s nice. Feels homey,” Ando amended and leaned back into his chair. “I used to come here all the time before I left to travel, and old habits die hard.”
“They do indeed,” Rei answered, but didn’t elaborate. He went up and got himself a refill and brought her another chai tea. She accepted it with a smile and added honey from the little pot that sat on every table. Ando watched her, and it reminded him of his coffee with Setsuna. Both women were graceful and poised and somewhat sharp.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Ando said and tilted his head. He relied on her opinion and since his return, she had been unequivocal in both her support and honesty.
“Of course,” she replied and put her fork down.
“Setsuna. Is she a friend of yours?”
Rei narrowed her eyes. “She is one of us. Of course.”
Okay, thin ice ahead, Ando thought. “And she is a nice person?”
“Yes.”
“And you like her?”
“That should be clear from my previous answers. What are you asking, Ando?”
He searched for the right words, but couldn’t find them. He couldn’t tell her that he thought her friend was a mean bitch, and he didn’t dare to mention the flashback to the Silver Millennium. He was afraid that if he did, it would take Rei and him back to square one, and he was pretty sure his liver couldn’t take another year of heartbreak induced boozing. So he shrugged. “Just trying to get a feel for her. She is tricky to get to know.”
It wasn’t a lie. At least it wasn’t a lie, he told himself, and switched the topic. “Did you already hear about Bones?”
“Excuse me?” Her violet eyes were clueless, and he laughed. “It’s how Hiro named the dog I got his daughter. Like the character in Stark Trek? Aiko wanted to call him Buttercup, but Hiro won out by letting her pick a pink leash.”
“You got Aiko a dog?”
“Usagi’s idea.”
Rei groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ando, don’t listen to Usagi. She and Minako believe that everyone needs to be as obsessed with pets as they are.” As an afterthought, she added: “What did Makoto say?”
“Nothing while I was still in ear shot.”
As he recounted little Aiko’s glee and the tutus and Makoto’s silence and Hiro’s indulgent smiles, whatever tension had accumulated in that brief moment where he dared to question another senshi melted away.
They wound up staying in the café until closing time, never even remembering that they were supposed to go see a movie. Instead they slowly walked back to the palace, a trip that should have taken no more than twenty minutes, but took another two hours instead. They paused at several small shops, buying some more hot drinks and sweets that they shared on the way. He learned that she had even more of sweet tooth than Minako and Usagi combined, and liked to be teased about it. He also learned that she preferred gummibears to chocolate and hated licorice.
All of this he learned as they ambled through a park and sat down on a bench, catching up with each other. They talked about the years between them and the years ahead of them, and about their friends and families. She laughed when he told her about his parents’ poodle, and he smiled when he recounted how her mother had tried to cook for Rei when she was little and instead managed to set a pan on fire. Every once in a while, they held hands. Two hours went by in what felt like two minutes and eventually, the big palace came into view again. It stretched out above them, covering the sky and the stars and even the moon.
Ando stared up at it and swallowed. “Don’t tell Hiro, but I agree. It’s a scary place.” The tall crystal spires seemed to reach so far into the sky that they threatened to pierce the stars and shatter them as they had the many buildings across Tokyo. It seemed inconceivable that he now lived in one of those spires, far removed from the life beneath it.
Rei looked up, taking in the palace that blocked the view of everything behind it. “It is a big change for all of us.”
Standing in front of the palace on her flat shoes, she looked tiny, breakable. If he could, he would have built her a house far away from this, a place that could be a home to her. But maybe she liked it here, maybe it didn’t make her feel as tiny as it did him. Maybe it made her feel big, an important part of humanity’s future. He didn’t know, but he wanted to.
“Do you like living here?” The question tumbled from his lips and he watched her face as she answered.
She sighed. “Sometimes. I like being close to Usagi and I like that it’s quiet here. And it’s not as if I have anywhere else to go.”
Ando reached for her hand. “I’m sorry about the temple,”
“Not your fault,” she answered, her voice heavy. He could see the weight on her slim shoulders and hated it with a vengeance.
“Still,” he insisted. “It must have been hard for you to see your home like that.”
“That’s the thing... It hasn’t been my home in a long, long time. Not since-” she trailed off and Ando finished the sentence for her. “Not since your grandfather died.”
She nodded, and reclaimed her hand, wiping away the tears that had snuck up her. She was still looking at the palace, her head held high. “Say something funny before I ruin our date by starting to cry.”
He didn’t point out that she was already crying, and that as far as he was concerned, nothing could ruin an evening that he got to spend in her company. In fact, Ando didn’t say anything at all. He just reached for her hand again and pulled her towards him. She came willingly and just as he placed his free hand on her hip, she rested hers against his chest. It was natural, completely in sync, the way it should be. The way it should have been many, many years ago. He could smell her perfume, heady and sweet. He could smell autumn in the air, but looking at her, felt spring in his bones.
“Sixteen years,” Ando whispered and Rei smiled through her tears.
Her answer was a whisper too and it send a million goosebumps dancing over his skin. “And not a day more.”
And with that, she kissed him, the palace looming behind them like an angry mountain.
*** End of Chapter Four ***
Click here for Chapter Five.