Fic: On Razor's Edge - Chapter Five
Title: On Razor’s Edge - Chapter 5
Summary: Crystal Tokyo has arrived. So has Ando Tanaka.
A/N: Written for venusorbit1’s wonderful help_japan donation.
Previous chapter here.
The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.
~ verse in the Katha-Upanishad
It was the evening before Minako Aino’s birthday, and as such, the third Thursday of the month. This meant that in a nice French fusion restaurant in the city centre, two old friends, both clad in their best suits, met to have dinner and discuss the state of the world, which in a microcosmic, slightly self-centred, but ultimately true way meant the state of the relationships in their little group. Seeing how their little group basically consisted of the world’s future leaders, the relationships among them were politically no less important than let’s say the Kyoto Protocol or, you know, avoidance of world war three.
“You are upset with me,” Takeshi pointed out while pouring over the wine menu.
Mamoru rolled his eyes. “I’m not upset.”
Over the menu, Takeshi arched a silver brow.
“Well, maybe I am,” Mamoru conceded and reached for a piece of bread. He was hungry - he had eschewed lunch so that he could make it to the dinner on time. A twelve hour shift in the hospital on the basis of an early morning bowl of cereal - not good. There was a moment when he’d been afraid he’d faint in the OR and surely, they would have fired him for that. His attending was looking for a reason to get rid of him anyway, Mamoru was sure of it. It was the way Dr. Hizako was looking him: full of fear and mistrust. But who could blame him, watching your colleague create a palace out of thin air on the evening news must have been rather unsettling.
“I take it is because of Ami?” Takeshi was still looking at him, his green eyes inquisitive and perhaps a bit worried.
Mamoru shrugged and shoved all thoughts of Dr. Hizako as far away as he could and focused his attention on his friend instead. “I just don’t get why you won’t apologise to her. She meant no harm, she did no harm, and she really took your criticism to heart.” Ami was still holding the Mercury computer close to Usagi’s head to scan her vitals at least two times a day, hovering over her like a fretful hummingbird. Usagi always swatted at the compact computer because the beeping annoyed her, but after a round of protest, let Ami run the tests anyway. It was rather endearing, Mamoru found, but Takeshi obviously didn’t share the sentiment. The architect was frowning and holding his menu a little too tightly in his long fingers.
“She risked Usagi,” Takeshi insisted stubbornly.
Now, being an orphan with a slight memory problem, Mamoru didn’t know what it felt like to have a long discussion about safe and unsafe enterprises with stern and worried parents, but sitting opposite Takeshi right now did give him some kind of idea.
“She did not, Takeshi. Just speak to her. And to Umino too.”
“Ando suggested something similar on Saturday.”
Mamoru laughed. “Right, your golf game turned drinking extravaganza. I heard you had quite the hangover on Sunday.”
Putting the menu down, Takeshi smiled. “A gross exaggeration. I might have suffered from a little headache, but that was purely because of the lack of sleep.”
“Uh-huh,” Mamoru answered and took a big bite of bread.
After the waiter had taken their order (Mamoru chose the food and Takeshi the wine), the doctor reached for a second piece of bread.
“Hungry?” Takeshi asked and swirled his wine glass. The red liquid gleamed in the restaurant’s soft light and excuded a lovely. A note of berries, just a touch. He’d have to get some bottles of this for his wine cellar, and perhaps another one or two for Makoto. She liked fine wines as much as he did and it would make a good Christmas present.
Mamoru, having polished off a third piece of baguette before finally answering, leaned back and smiled. “Long day, little food. I thought I’d eat well tonight and better tomorrow on Minako’s birthday, but she’s not celebrating, is she? Usagi didn’t mention an invitation.”
“Minako suggested to just have a quiet night in,” Takeshi said almost apologetically. Normally, his fiance loved nothing better than to have all her friends over for a big birthday dinner, but this year, she had tugged at his hand and smiled up at him and whispered “only the two of us, okay?” and Takeshi had been unable to deny her that small wish, even if it might mean affronting their friends.
“Well, that’s nice too. Do you want us to take Attila?”
Takeshi chuckled. “No, thank you. He is fine where is he is.”
“So what are you giving her?” Minako was very to easy to find presents for, Mamoru had always thought. If it was pink and girly, chances were that she would like it. It was the same with Usagi, only that with his wife, Mamoru always wanted to find the best present possible, whereas he was quite happy to just buy Minako the first pink, glittery thing his wife suggested.
Topping up Mamoru’s wine glass, Takeshi smiled. “A journey to Egypt in January.”
“Nice,” Mamoru said approvingly, both to the wine and to the gift.
“I think it would be good, seeing something else.” Takeshi fell silent and Mamoru watched his friend’s eyes go dark. Takeshi was so startingly easy to read. Many people made the mistake not to look further than the clipped tones and stern looks, but underneath all of that, Takeshi was a man with as many emotions as everyone else. If one paid him even a modicum of attention, he was like an open book. Just one with tiny, obscure script, one that required a magnifying glass.
“You really hate the palace, don’t you?” Mamoru asked, his voice kind.
“I do not like it,” Takeshi admitted, hands folded on the table. “Do you?”
“Not yet,” Mamoru answered, “but at some point, I will. I have seen what it can become. This can be good, Takeshi, I promise. We just have to get there first.”
“Of course,” Takeshi said and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Mamoru sighed. Pity Ando had gone the “getting Takeshi drunk to cheer him up” route just a few days prior, otherwise he would have tried that himself. Unfortunately, as a doctor, he couldn’t support excessive drinking twice in such short succession.
***
Minako was fast asleep when Takeshi returned from his dinner, and even faster asleep when he rose just five hours later to drive Mamoru to work. But Takeshi left a birthday card on the pillow, and a cake Makoto had baked especially for the purpose on the dining room table. It was a good thing Attila was trained so well, otherwise the tall dog would have licked all the icing off long before Minako even opened her eyes.
Naturally, someone had to come and wake her at some point, and of course, Minako thought it was whom she had humorously taken to calling ‘the unholy alliance’ - Umino, Ando, and Usagi. Nobody would ring a bell so insistently, she was sure of it. Peeling herself out of bed, she reached for her pink robe and shuffled her feet into her slippers.
Yawning, she walked down the stairs and to the front door, pulling it open with a frown on her face. “It’s forbidden to wake the birthday girl.”
But it wasn’t Umino, Ando and Usagi.
It was a whole other kind of alliance.
Minako stood a little straighter and for the first time in many years, cursed her preference for Hello Kitty pyjamas.
“Haruka, Michiru.”
***
Ando and Rei were just having tea when his mobile beeped loudly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and reached for it. A text message from Minako. Come here ASAP. Don’t bring U&U.
They were sitting in one of the palace’s many kitchens, having a small breakfast together. Granted, it was Ando’s second breakfast, since he had eaten with Umino and Usagi before, but when Rei knocked on his door at nine and invited him to join her, he didn’t want to say no. Well, couldn’t say no, to be honest. Saying no to Rei Hino was something he was just not programmed to do which made the following only harder.
He scrunched his face up, offering Rei an apologetic smile. “I have to go.”
She put her tea down. “Everything okay?”
“Don’t know. It’s Minako, she’s asked me to come over.”
Rei frowned, and he could tell she was just itching to snatch the phone out of his hand and to call Mina herself. But she did hold back, which he took as a massive sign of trust. “Call me if you need me,” she offered, and Ando smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
***
He thought they might have dinner together, but when he came home around seven, Takeshi found the kitchen empty, the dinner table not set, and the birthday girl in simple jeans and t-shirt on the couch, Attila draped across her lap. An empty container of ice cream stood on the coffee table, and Takeshi noticed two spoons resting on his architecture magazine beside it.
“The dog is not allowed on the couch,” he said and stepped inside the living-room. Minako’s head whipped up - she hadn’t heard him coming. That was unusual, she normally prided herself on her good ears. But then again, she also dressed herself up whenever an opportunity presented itself and tonight, on her birthday, she was wearing jeans Takeshi had seen her paint walls in and a thin dark grey t-shirt that had holes where it had snagged inside the washing machine. Her hair was a messy bun on top of her head.
“Everything okay?” he asked, and stepped closer. The dog raised his head and soon after, its whole body, slowly dragging himself off the couch. A few years ago, Attila would have heard the BMW rolling onto the driveway and would have jumped off the couch and into his basket long before Takeshi had even turned the key in the lock. But the Great Dane was too old for that now; his hearing was getting worse with every passing day, and so where his hips. The vet hadn’t been too happy with Attila last time he’d seen him and no vitamin supplements in the world could change the effect of old age.
So he watched while the dog climbed off the couch and then padded over. Takeshi bent down and petted him, rubbing him behind the ears, just as Attila liked it. Then he got up again and pointed to the doggie basket in the corner, and Attila walked over obediently, letting himself drop onto the pillows with a heavy sigh.
Minako had watched them with eagle-eyes and when Takeshi moved to come to the couch, she got up instead. She was not wearing a scrap of make-up, but her eyes stood out as if she had lined them with the black eyeliner she favoured so much. She had been crying: he could always tell.
She quickly closed the distance between them and snaked her arms around his neck. Her hands were cold on his skin. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered and moved to kiss him. The smell that clung to her was that of his shower gel, not her own.
“Minako, what’s wrong?” he asked against her lips, but she was not in the mood for talking. Pressing herself against him in a way that still, after so many years, made his head spin, she bit on his lower lip. “Takeshi, shut up.” Her hand travelled down, tugging at his tie, until she had loosened the knot enough to pull it over his head. Her industrious fingers made short work of his white button-down next and by the time she reached for his belt, he had remembered that he too had hands.
He cupped her face, holding her still. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but not as much as he wanted her. There was something about her that had always made him leave his common sense at the door.
“You can’t say no the birthday girl. It’s against the rules,” she whispered and smiled up at him. Her smile should have been wicked, and normally, she liked to follow up on a statement like this with a cheeky wink or naughty grope. But tonight, it sounded more like a dare than anything else and he made a point of not backing down on any challenges she threw at him, especially when they came with feeling her in his arms and pressed up against him.
“Well, in that case, let’s take this upstairs,” he murmured and kissing her, lead them out of the living-room. This was his house - he could navigate every corner with his eyes closed, no risk of bumping into anything. Until Minako decided that upstairs was still too far away and used all of her weight to send them careening into the wall.
She broke away from him, and, taking a step back, pulled the thin shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor in a completely careless fashion. Her bra went next, and Takeshi’s throat went dry. By the time she had shimmied out of jeans and panties, he wanted nothing more than to take her against the wall, but it was her birthday and she deserved better. When she stepped towards him again, completely naked, he reached for her and lifted her up. Her legs snaked around his hips and like this, he carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom.
***
Saturday morning found an unwilling Takeshi and a quiet Umino taking a walk in a forest outside Tokyo. It was unplanned, Umino had just appeared on Takeshi’s doorstep and asked the architect whether he’d like to join him on a trip to a forest.
Since the two men hadn’t talked since before the transformation of the temple, Takeshi was happy enough to come along. He wasn’t usually one for spontaneity, but not speaking to Umino was not a situation he was keen to prolong. So he quickly left a note for Minako (who was grocery shopping with Usagi), and then the two men were off.
Since Umino didn’t have a car and Minako had taken Takeshi’s BMW, the two of them took a train. They spent the journey in relative silence; their topics of discussion were not the kind that should be overheard by fellow travellers.
When they finally arrived at the small train station in the countryside, a soft drizzle had begun to fall. Takeshi pulled his collar up, and Umino rearranged his thick knitted scarf. Without a doubt, it was yet another gift from his grandmother. Takeshi had met her once, when Umino had taken him to Kyoto. The philosopher’s family was nothing like his own, or even Minako’s. Where he had few memories of his mother, seeing how she died when he was little, and the relationship with his father had never been anything but distant, he had briefly entertained the hope of finding a family in Minako’s. Of course, that hope had been shattered after the very first dinner he had with the Ainos. Minako’s father was a nice man, but Takeshi had a problem respecting people without backbone. As for Minako’s mother: well... the two women were always so busy sniping at each other that it made establishing a connection absolutely impossible. Umino’s family however... his grandmother was a warm and friendly old woman. She had made Takeshi feel at home right away, which was not an easy feet given the architect’s reclusive nature. Umino’s sister and brother too had been raised well: like his friend, they were kind and polite.
“I am glad you came by,” he finally said, looking at the winding path ahead of them.
“Me too,” Umino replied, and then sighed. “But you won’t be for long, I’m afraid.”
“Is this about Ami?” Takeshi’s voice got several degrees colder immediately.
“No, it’s not, but you do owe her an apology, Takeshi. She only meant well.”
“We of all people know that the path to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Umino shook his head. “I know you put Mamoru’s and Usagi’s well-being above everything else, but you should reconsider this. Now, let’s talk about something else.”
Takeshi stopped. “It’s not like you to give up this easily.”
“We have more important matters to discuss,” Umino replied. The look he gave Takeshi made the architect’s hair stand on edge. “Is Mamoru okay?”
Umino nodded. “But if things continue like this, he won’t be for long. People are fearing him, Takeshi, and a fear like this leads to action. Violent action. We need to do something.”
“And you have an idea? An idea you want to discuss with me, only me, in a forest?” Pieces began to slowly fall into place, but the complete picture was yet out of Takeshi’s grasp. All he knew was that he wouldn’t like it. “Does this have to do with Ando and his PR endeavour?”
“Yes and no. It has to do with us needing someone on the inside. We need someone in the government, someone whom people trust, someone who is reliable, and someone who can pave the way for Usagi and Mamoru.”
Takeshi gave Umino a long, levelled look, one that made lesser men tremble, but Umino met it, unflinchingly, and it was Takeshi who broke eye contact first. Umino, Zoisite, the only one of them without blood on his hands. The only one who had been able to break Beryl’s curse.
And that made him the only person whose opinion Takeshi could not ignore.
“Let’s go back,” the architect said, and when he turned to leave, his slumped shoulders told a tale of defeat.
***
He dropped Umino off at the hospital, where the younger man set out to have lunch with Ami and Mamoru. Carefully weaving his car through the midday traffic, Takeshi drove past crystal spires, broken buildings, and finally, towards the palace. He parked his car in a side street, but did not bother to take one of the secret entrances. It had taken all of them shamefully long to find out that nobody ever noticed their comings and goings: the palace had a shield that just seemed to swallow them up, or draw the attention of eventual onlookers on something or someone else. The exact workings of the shield were a mystery as of yet, but Takeshi resolved to ask Ami to look into it. He might not approve of her actions, but she was without a doubt the smartest of them all.
Passing a few policemen (there were always some around to make sure that nobody touched the crystal, not to protect the building, but to protect the hapless citizens) and a number of tourists with big cameras, merrily clicking away, taking picture after picture, he was finally swallowed up by the shield and entered the palace.
He knew that he would find Minako here now. And he was right: his girlfriend was in one of the kitchens, sitting cross-legged on a table, watching Usagi shove food into an already over-spilling fridge.
“Hello,” he said, and both women whipped around, laughter etched into their faces. Usagi promptly dropped the iceberg salad she’d been trying to wedge into the fridge.
“Oh, you scared me!” Usagi burst out with a big smile, and abandoned the fridge and the salad to give Takeshi a hug. Even though Minako was not much taller than Usagi, the princess always felt tiny in his arms, like a child he wanted and needed to protect.
Instead of greeting Minako with a kiss, as was their custom, he pulled up a chair and sat down. His heart felt heavy, he couldn’t describe it any other way. He knew she would be all in favour of Umino’s plan, would think it a brilliant idea.
“What’s up?” Minako asked, the laughter slowly fading from her eyes.
Takeshi glanced at Usagi; he wouldn’t discuss it in front of her. Minako rolled her eyes. “Hey Usa, do you think you could fetch me the book Ando was talking about earlier? If I barge in on him and Rei, he will probably set fire to my house or something, but if you do it, then it’ll be fine.”
Usagi, bending down to pick up the salad, giggled. “Like teenagers, those two. Do you need the book now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you just using me to annoy them and don’t care about the book at all?”
“Something like that.”
“Isn’t that a bit mean?”
“How often has Ando interrupted you and Mamoru since he got back?”
“Good point.”Usagi pressed the salad into Takeshi’s hands and took off, leaving Minako, still sitting on the table as if it were a sofa, and Takeshi, on the chair in front of her, alone.
Wasting no time, Takeshi looked up. “Umino wants me to go into politics. The ministry is putting together a task-force that is supposed to aid the government in finding citizen-appropriate ways to deal with the crystal. He thought an architect would be most useful there and that I could use it as a springboard.”
“Springboard for what?”
“Run in an election, a seat on the city council, parliament. Who knows, he hasn’t mentioned an end point.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Will you do it anyway?” Minako unfolded her legs and scooped closer to the edge of table, letting her dangling legs frame Takeshi. She took the salad out of his hands and carelessly tossed it aside.
“It’s fulltime.”
“So you couldn’t work in your office anymore.”
“No.”
She was silent for a moment, and then slid off the table and onto Takeshi’s lap. “It would be a good move,” she said slowly, and moved to stroke his cheek. He caught her hand in his before her fingers touched his skin.
“Does it matter - at all - that I don’t want this?”
Minako leaned forward, and Takeshi saw her face change. It went from loving to worried in seconds. “Takeshi, this is your duty. Yours and mine both. You know that.”
“Sometimes I wish it wasn’t.”
“They come first. They always will, always have. We do what’s best for them.”
“What about what’s best for us?”
“You once did what you thought was best for us, and it didn’t end well. Let’s do what’s best for them, and then all of our happiness will follow. Just give it time. Don’t-- I mean, talk it over with Mamoru. I’m sure it will help.”
“Oh,” he said softly. “You think this is me backing out of my vows to Endymion. Again.”
He got up, gently pushing her off of him in the process.
“Takeshi, you’re getting this all wrong. I only meant-”
“I know perfectly well what you meant, Minako. Perfectly well.”
“I only think--- Takeshi, I have seen Crystal Tokyo, and I know that it can be great, no matter what people say. We just need to work to get there, all of us, together. And you’re great, reliable. If you tell people that it’s a good place, a safe place, they will trust you.”
“Like you do?
“Yes.”
“Then,” Takeshi murmured, standing in the door frame with stopped shoulders, “we have a problem.”
***
Whistling a cheery tune, Usagi bounded down the stairs. She was slowly learning her way around the palace; in the first few days, she had spent more time getting lost than even sleeping. She had been trying to reconcile the new palace with the one she had seen in the future, but try as she might, she simply could not follow the same corridors and find the same rooms. Of course, Usagi was the first one to admit that her sense of orientation wasn’t exactly stellar, and during her stint in the future, she’d been more concerned with saving the world and Chibi-Usa than memorising floor plans. So whenever Usagi thought she just needed to walk straight ahead to find the more or less useless throne room, or take a left to find the future king’s study, and instead found herself in some small flower-filled atrium or on a balcony, she shrugged, laughed, and called Mamoru to come fetch her. Or, after Umino, Ami, Rei, and Ando moved in, loudly shouted “Marco” until a friendly but exasperated “Polo” from somewhere sounded back and told her where she needed to go.
But it was getting better these days, and after she had knocked on Ando’s door, mischievous grin on her face, only to find it empty, she made her way back to the kitchen almost effortlessly. Three flights of stairs down, left, right, left, and then she was already in the right hallway.
Bounding into the kitchen with glee, ready to tell Minako all about her new superior orientation skills, Usagi skidded to a halt. Minako had her back to the door, and was methodically cleaning the fridge. She had already emptied it out completely, putting everything on the table with the freshly bought groceries. A small bucket with soapy water was on the floor beside her, and she was wiping the vegetable drawer with measured strokes. Now, if this were Makoto, then Usagi would just plop down at the table and tell her tale, but it wasn’t. Usagi had known Minako for years, and the only time her friend voluntarily and diligently cleaned and tidied up was when she was feeling miserable.
“Where’s Takeshi?” Usagi asked, her good mood dripping away like water from a melting ice cube.
“Gone home.” Minako’s voice was calm. She bent down and dipped the sponge into the water, then wringing it out, and dipping it in again.
“Mi, I was only gone for ten minutes and you’re cleaning and he’s not here. What’s wrong? I thought we could have lunch together.”
“I don’t think Takeshi is feeling very hungry.”
“And I don’t think you really want to clean.”
Minako snorted. “No, but I can, so this is what I’m doing.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll make us a sandwich.” Minako turned around, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “Look at you, all domestic.”
Usagi shrugged and grinned. “They call me the breakfast fairy; I am looking to widen my repertoire.”
“Haruka and Michiru visited me on my birthday.”
The grin slid off Usagi’s face. “They didn’t come to congratulate you, did they?”
“No. They came to ‘talk some sense into me’,” Minako snorted, drawing inverted commas into the air with disdain while the soapy water dripped from her fingers. “They believe that the shitennou should not be a part of Crystal Tokyo, surprise surprise, never heard that one before, and that they are the cause of all our troubles. Michiru has looked into her mirror, and is now convinced that because the shitennou were accepted back into our ranks, the future changed and the peaceful Crystal Tokyo that should have come to pass is not on the cards anymore. So basically, we are doomed.”
Usagi crinkled her nose. “I don’t believe that. I think it will be all better. Just look at Rei. If they would look at Rei and see how happy she is, then they couldn’t believe the boys to be bad. Plus,” she added with a confidence, “Hiro has dogs and kids and makes really good pancakes.”
“I agree.”
“He made pancakes for you too? Aww, that’s nice. I like that you are getting along better.”
“I was actually talking about the kids and dogs part and how this inherently makes him a good person. Annoying, but good. He never made me pancakes.”
“And now Takeshi is feeling all guilty because of this? That’s so silly.”
“Usa, I haven’t told him.”
“Then what did you fight about?”
“Umino has asked Takeshi to apply to join the governmental task-force that deals with the palace. Takeshi doesn’t want to, but it’s a good idea, and then we talked about duty and he was so weird, and I completely misinterpreted what he was saying, and insinuated that him not joining the government would be a mistake like----” Minako trailed off, and helplessly wrung the sponge in her hands, letting the water drip on the crystal floor.
“Like? Wait... like on the moon? Oh Minako, really! You know you can’t say stuff like that to Takeshi!”
“I know! It just came out, and then he was gone, and now he thinks I don’t trust him, which I do, but he’s so tetchy about this stuff.”
“So is Mamoru,” Usagi said, and began to assemble the ingredients for a nice, hearty sandwich. “I don’t even want to know how he will react to Michiru’s and Haruka’s warning. He’ll probably drive over and try to stab them with his pointy roses.”
Minako giggled. “I would pay good money to see that.”
“Me too,” Usagi admitted and then clapped her hands over her mouth. “I shouldn’t say things like that. They’re our friends too.”
“Great friends they are: missing birthdays and christenings and weddings and house-warming parties, but hey, you can always rely on them to warn you about the apocalypse.”
Spreading cottage cheese on two slices of bread, Usagi rolled her eyes. “We have Rei for that. If something were to happen, or had gone wrong, she would have told us long before Michiru even picked up her mirror. Do you want salmon or salami?”
“The salmon is for your and Mamoru for a nice Sunday morning breakfast, so save it for tomorrow. Just toss some lettuce on it, that’ll do.”
Blithely ignoring her friend, Usagi reached for the pack of sliced salmon and ripped it open. “Mamo has to spend the night in the hospital, so when he comes tomorrow morning, and I tell him about Michiru and Haruka after a 36 hours shift, I don’t think he’ll be in the mood for a romantic breakfast.”
“Then don’t,” Minako said with a kind of quiet determination.
“What?”
“Don’t tell him. And I won’t tell Takeshi. Things are bad enough anyway, what’s the point in upsetting them?”
“Mi, I don’t know. I don’t like secrets. We can’t keep this to ourselves.”
“We won’t, I mean, we wouldn’t. Ando knows.”
“You told Ando, but you’re not telling Takeshi? You’re falling back into your old patterns.” Usagi fixed Minako with a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you made him promise not tell Rei.”
“Of course not. I didn’t make him promise anything. Ando is a smart cookie, he knows how to deal with this sort of information.”
“He will tell Umino.”
“No, he won’t,” Minako answered, shaking her head.
Reaching for the salad, Usagi cocked her brow. The two girls stared at each other.
Minako winced. “Oh damn, he will tell Umino.”
“Yup,” Usagi said, and thinking of the nice salmon sandwich Makoto had made her last week, looked around the kitchen for more ingredients. “Now, tomatoes too?”
***
Night was falling, and at the heart of Tokyo, the palace glowed in the moonlight. From the outside, the three men looked up at the smooth surface, the shimmering crystal.
“You know, I know exactly where my window is supposed to be, but fuck me if I can find it,” Ando said, hands in his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips.
Beside him, Umino closed his eyes in mock exasperation. “The idea of protective charms is that you can’t see anything, can’t find out where the people you might want to attack are.”
Mamoru reached past Umino and snapped the cigarette out of Ando’s mouth, tossing it on the floor and then, for good measure, grinding it to pieces with his shoe.
“Hey, I was smoking that!” Ando complained.
“And I was operating on a man with lung cancer today.”
Umino bumped his shoulder against Mamoru’s. “Didn’t go well?”
“He died on the table. That’s why my shift was over six hours early,” Mamoru answered, and glared at Ando. “So no more crap from you tonight.”
“Is that a royal order?”
“Ando, one of these days, someone is going to punch you in the face,” Umino pointed out, giving his best friend a reproving look while managing to look positively gleeful at the same time.
“Well, Takeshi has already done that oh what, like ten years ago? I’m still alive, and he’s still a miserable bastard, so I don’t think punching me does anyone any good. Or harm. Or anything. My point is, don’t punch me.”
Mamoru grinned. “I’m not going to punch you. I’m going to tell Rei on you.”
Ando’s face fell. “You wouldn’t!”
“Of course I would. Umino, would I?”
Umino nodded serenely. “Yes, you would. Now, can we go inside? It’s really late, and I want to go to bed. I don’t understand why we have to stand out here anyway. Whose stupid idea was that anyway, sneaking out in the middle of the night?”
“Mine,” Ando said. “And I just wanted to talk to the both of you in private before you cuddle up to your respective wives.”
“Girlfriend,” Umino corrected. “And what do you need to discuss with us that Ami and Usagi shouldn’t hear?”
“Minako had some visitors on her birthday.”
“Who?” Mamoru asked, a sense of foreboding crawling up on him.
“Michiru and Haruka.”
“And?” the doctor prodded, “what did they want?”
“The usual. The shitennou are bad, we will soon show our true nature, set fire to the world, kick puppies, yadda yadda yadda. But they had a new spiel too: because you accepted us back-”
“Which I have never regretted for even a minute,” Mamoru interjected fiercely, causing Umino to smile.
“- that’s very nice, and believe it or not, makes me go disgustingly warm and fuzzy inside, but is a little besides the point,” Ando continued, “because you accepted us back, they believe the future, and by that they mean Crystal Tokyo, has changed irrevocably. Whatever you saw in your little time travel adventures, they don’t think it’s gonna happen. Michiru looked in some mirror or something. Very Brothers Grimm.”
“I saw my wife encased in a crystal coffin, so really, if having all of you around can keep that from happening, then I’m not complaining.”
“Agreed,” Ando said. “Just wanted to let you know that the angry ladies still think we are mad, bad, and dangerous to know, but judging from how Minako took it, and by that I mean badly, I figured I better tell you two when Ami and Usagi are not around. They are sweet things, I didn’t want to upset them. Now, let’s get back inside, it’s bloody freezing.”
Mamoru and Ando began to move, but Umino did not. Instead, the philosopher stood still, looking up at the palace without blinking.
“Umino?” Mamoru asked, half-turning back towards his friend. “Are you coming?”
“Did Michiru say what exactly was changing?” Umino inquired, his voice oddly flat.
“Umm, I think she said ‘everything’,” Ando said. “Why, what’s going on? What did I miss?”
And then Umino looked at Mamoru, and goosebumps rose on the doctor’s skin. “You don’t think--”
“I think,” Umino said, dread crawling up on his ever-young face, “that ‘everything’ is more than the crystal coffin, and how the city was brought about. I think everything, Mamoru,-----”
“----Don’t say it,” Mamoru whispered, suddenly understanding.
“---Includes your daughter.”
***End of Chapter Five***
Summary: Crystal Tokyo has arrived. So has Ando Tanaka.
A/N: Written for venusorbit1’s wonderful help_japan donation.
Previous chapter here.
The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.
~ verse in the Katha-Upanishad
It was the evening before Minako Aino’s birthday, and as such, the third Thursday of the month. This meant that in a nice French fusion restaurant in the city centre, two old friends, both clad in their best suits, met to have dinner and discuss the state of the world, which in a microcosmic, slightly self-centred, but ultimately true way meant the state of the relationships in their little group. Seeing how their little group basically consisted of the world’s future leaders, the relationships among them were politically no less important than let’s say the Kyoto Protocol or, you know, avoidance of world war three.
“You are upset with me,” Takeshi pointed out while pouring over the wine menu.
Mamoru rolled his eyes. “I’m not upset.”
Over the menu, Takeshi arched a silver brow.
“Well, maybe I am,” Mamoru conceded and reached for a piece of bread. He was hungry - he had eschewed lunch so that he could make it to the dinner on time. A twelve hour shift in the hospital on the basis of an early morning bowl of cereal - not good. There was a moment when he’d been afraid he’d faint in the OR and surely, they would have fired him for that. His attending was looking for a reason to get rid of him anyway, Mamoru was sure of it. It was the way Dr. Hizako was looking him: full of fear and mistrust. But who could blame him, watching your colleague create a palace out of thin air on the evening news must have been rather unsettling.
“I take it is because of Ami?” Takeshi was still looking at him, his green eyes inquisitive and perhaps a bit worried.
Mamoru shrugged and shoved all thoughts of Dr. Hizako as far away as he could and focused his attention on his friend instead. “I just don’t get why you won’t apologise to her. She meant no harm, she did no harm, and she really took your criticism to heart.” Ami was still holding the Mercury computer close to Usagi’s head to scan her vitals at least two times a day, hovering over her like a fretful hummingbird. Usagi always swatted at the compact computer because the beeping annoyed her, but after a round of protest, let Ami run the tests anyway. It was rather endearing, Mamoru found, but Takeshi obviously didn’t share the sentiment. The architect was frowning and holding his menu a little too tightly in his long fingers.
“She risked Usagi,” Takeshi insisted stubbornly.
Now, being an orphan with a slight memory problem, Mamoru didn’t know what it felt like to have a long discussion about safe and unsafe enterprises with stern and worried parents, but sitting opposite Takeshi right now did give him some kind of idea.
“She did not, Takeshi. Just speak to her. And to Umino too.”
“Ando suggested something similar on Saturday.”
Mamoru laughed. “Right, your golf game turned drinking extravaganza. I heard you had quite the hangover on Sunday.”
Putting the menu down, Takeshi smiled. “A gross exaggeration. I might have suffered from a little headache, but that was purely because of the lack of sleep.”
“Uh-huh,” Mamoru answered and took a big bite of bread.
After the waiter had taken their order (Mamoru chose the food and Takeshi the wine), the doctor reached for a second piece of bread.
“Hungry?” Takeshi asked and swirled his wine glass. The red liquid gleamed in the restaurant’s soft light and excuded a lovely. A note of berries, just a touch. He’d have to get some bottles of this for his wine cellar, and perhaps another one or two for Makoto. She liked fine wines as much as he did and it would make a good Christmas present.
Mamoru, having polished off a third piece of baguette before finally answering, leaned back and smiled. “Long day, little food. I thought I’d eat well tonight and better tomorrow on Minako’s birthday, but she’s not celebrating, is she? Usagi didn’t mention an invitation.”
“Minako suggested to just have a quiet night in,” Takeshi said almost apologetically. Normally, his fiance loved nothing better than to have all her friends over for a big birthday dinner, but this year, she had tugged at his hand and smiled up at him and whispered “only the two of us, okay?” and Takeshi had been unable to deny her that small wish, even if it might mean affronting their friends.
“Well, that’s nice too. Do you want us to take Attila?”
Takeshi chuckled. “No, thank you. He is fine where is he is.”
“So what are you giving her?” Minako was very to easy to find presents for, Mamoru had always thought. If it was pink and girly, chances were that she would like it. It was the same with Usagi, only that with his wife, Mamoru always wanted to find the best present possible, whereas he was quite happy to just buy Minako the first pink, glittery thing his wife suggested.
Topping up Mamoru’s wine glass, Takeshi smiled. “A journey to Egypt in January.”
“Nice,” Mamoru said approvingly, both to the wine and to the gift.
“I think it would be good, seeing something else.” Takeshi fell silent and Mamoru watched his friend’s eyes go dark. Takeshi was so startingly easy to read. Many people made the mistake not to look further than the clipped tones and stern looks, but underneath all of that, Takeshi was a man with as many emotions as everyone else. If one paid him even a modicum of attention, he was like an open book. Just one with tiny, obscure script, one that required a magnifying glass.
“You really hate the palace, don’t you?” Mamoru asked, his voice kind.
“I do not like it,” Takeshi admitted, hands folded on the table. “Do you?”
“Not yet,” Mamoru answered, “but at some point, I will. I have seen what it can become. This can be good, Takeshi, I promise. We just have to get there first.”
“Of course,” Takeshi said and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Mamoru sighed. Pity Ando had gone the “getting Takeshi drunk to cheer him up” route just a few days prior, otherwise he would have tried that himself. Unfortunately, as a doctor, he couldn’t support excessive drinking twice in such short succession.
***
Minako was fast asleep when Takeshi returned from his dinner, and even faster asleep when he rose just five hours later to drive Mamoru to work. But Takeshi left a birthday card on the pillow, and a cake Makoto had baked especially for the purpose on the dining room table. It was a good thing Attila was trained so well, otherwise the tall dog would have licked all the icing off long before Minako even opened her eyes.
Naturally, someone had to come and wake her at some point, and of course, Minako thought it was whom she had humorously taken to calling ‘the unholy alliance’ - Umino, Ando, and Usagi. Nobody would ring a bell so insistently, she was sure of it. Peeling herself out of bed, she reached for her pink robe and shuffled her feet into her slippers.
Yawning, she walked down the stairs and to the front door, pulling it open with a frown on her face. “It’s forbidden to wake the birthday girl.”
But it wasn’t Umino, Ando and Usagi.
It was a whole other kind of alliance.
Minako stood a little straighter and for the first time in many years, cursed her preference for Hello Kitty pyjamas.
“Haruka, Michiru.”
***
Ando and Rei were just having tea when his mobile beeped loudly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and reached for it. A text message from Minako. Come here ASAP. Don’t bring U&U.
They were sitting in one of the palace’s many kitchens, having a small breakfast together. Granted, it was Ando’s second breakfast, since he had eaten with Umino and Usagi before, but when Rei knocked on his door at nine and invited him to join her, he didn’t want to say no. Well, couldn’t say no, to be honest. Saying no to Rei Hino was something he was just not programmed to do which made the following only harder.
He scrunched his face up, offering Rei an apologetic smile. “I have to go.”
She put her tea down. “Everything okay?”
“Don’t know. It’s Minako, she’s asked me to come over.”
Rei frowned, and he could tell she was just itching to snatch the phone out of his hand and to call Mina herself. But she did hold back, which he took as a massive sign of trust. “Call me if you need me,” she offered, and Ando smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
***
He thought they might have dinner together, but when he came home around seven, Takeshi found the kitchen empty, the dinner table not set, and the birthday girl in simple jeans and t-shirt on the couch, Attila draped across her lap. An empty container of ice cream stood on the coffee table, and Takeshi noticed two spoons resting on his architecture magazine beside it.
“The dog is not allowed on the couch,” he said and stepped inside the living-room. Minako’s head whipped up - she hadn’t heard him coming. That was unusual, she normally prided herself on her good ears. But then again, she also dressed herself up whenever an opportunity presented itself and tonight, on her birthday, she was wearing jeans Takeshi had seen her paint walls in and a thin dark grey t-shirt that had holes where it had snagged inside the washing machine. Her hair was a messy bun on top of her head.
“Everything okay?” he asked, and stepped closer. The dog raised his head and soon after, its whole body, slowly dragging himself off the couch. A few years ago, Attila would have heard the BMW rolling onto the driveway and would have jumped off the couch and into his basket long before Takeshi had even turned the key in the lock. But the Great Dane was too old for that now; his hearing was getting worse with every passing day, and so where his hips. The vet hadn’t been too happy with Attila last time he’d seen him and no vitamin supplements in the world could change the effect of old age.
So he watched while the dog climbed off the couch and then padded over. Takeshi bent down and petted him, rubbing him behind the ears, just as Attila liked it. Then he got up again and pointed to the doggie basket in the corner, and Attila walked over obediently, letting himself drop onto the pillows with a heavy sigh.
Minako had watched them with eagle-eyes and when Takeshi moved to come to the couch, she got up instead. She was not wearing a scrap of make-up, but her eyes stood out as if she had lined them with the black eyeliner she favoured so much. She had been crying: he could always tell.
She quickly closed the distance between them and snaked her arms around his neck. Her hands were cold on his skin. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered and moved to kiss him. The smell that clung to her was that of his shower gel, not her own.
“Minako, what’s wrong?” he asked against her lips, but she was not in the mood for talking. Pressing herself against him in a way that still, after so many years, made his head spin, she bit on his lower lip. “Takeshi, shut up.” Her hand travelled down, tugging at his tie, until she had loosened the knot enough to pull it over his head. Her industrious fingers made short work of his white button-down next and by the time she reached for his belt, he had remembered that he too had hands.
He cupped her face, holding her still. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but not as much as he wanted her. There was something about her that had always made him leave his common sense at the door.
“You can’t say no the birthday girl. It’s against the rules,” she whispered and smiled up at him. Her smile should have been wicked, and normally, she liked to follow up on a statement like this with a cheeky wink or naughty grope. But tonight, it sounded more like a dare than anything else and he made a point of not backing down on any challenges she threw at him, especially when they came with feeling her in his arms and pressed up against him.
“Well, in that case, let’s take this upstairs,” he murmured and kissing her, lead them out of the living-room. This was his house - he could navigate every corner with his eyes closed, no risk of bumping into anything. Until Minako decided that upstairs was still too far away and used all of her weight to send them careening into the wall.
She broke away from him, and, taking a step back, pulled the thin shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor in a completely careless fashion. Her bra went next, and Takeshi’s throat went dry. By the time she had shimmied out of jeans and panties, he wanted nothing more than to take her against the wall, but it was her birthday and she deserved better. When she stepped towards him again, completely naked, he reached for her and lifted her up. Her legs snaked around his hips and like this, he carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom.
***
Saturday morning found an unwilling Takeshi and a quiet Umino taking a walk in a forest outside Tokyo. It was unplanned, Umino had just appeared on Takeshi’s doorstep and asked the architect whether he’d like to join him on a trip to a forest.
Since the two men hadn’t talked since before the transformation of the temple, Takeshi was happy enough to come along. He wasn’t usually one for spontaneity, but not speaking to Umino was not a situation he was keen to prolong. So he quickly left a note for Minako (who was grocery shopping with Usagi), and then the two men were off.
Since Umino didn’t have a car and Minako had taken Takeshi’s BMW, the two of them took a train. They spent the journey in relative silence; their topics of discussion were not the kind that should be overheard by fellow travellers.
When they finally arrived at the small train station in the countryside, a soft drizzle had begun to fall. Takeshi pulled his collar up, and Umino rearranged his thick knitted scarf. Without a doubt, it was yet another gift from his grandmother. Takeshi had met her once, when Umino had taken him to Kyoto. The philosopher’s family was nothing like his own, or even Minako’s. Where he had few memories of his mother, seeing how she died when he was little, and the relationship with his father had never been anything but distant, he had briefly entertained the hope of finding a family in Minako’s. Of course, that hope had been shattered after the very first dinner he had with the Ainos. Minako’s father was a nice man, but Takeshi had a problem respecting people without backbone. As for Minako’s mother: well... the two women were always so busy sniping at each other that it made establishing a connection absolutely impossible. Umino’s family however... his grandmother was a warm and friendly old woman. She had made Takeshi feel at home right away, which was not an easy feet given the architect’s reclusive nature. Umino’s sister and brother too had been raised well: like his friend, they were kind and polite.
“I am glad you came by,” he finally said, looking at the winding path ahead of them.
“Me too,” Umino replied, and then sighed. “But you won’t be for long, I’m afraid.”
“Is this about Ami?” Takeshi’s voice got several degrees colder immediately.
“No, it’s not, but you do owe her an apology, Takeshi. She only meant well.”
“We of all people know that the path to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Umino shook his head. “I know you put Mamoru’s and Usagi’s well-being above everything else, but you should reconsider this. Now, let’s talk about something else.”
Takeshi stopped. “It’s not like you to give up this easily.”
“We have more important matters to discuss,” Umino replied. The look he gave Takeshi made the architect’s hair stand on edge. “Is Mamoru okay?”
Umino nodded. “But if things continue like this, he won’t be for long. People are fearing him, Takeshi, and a fear like this leads to action. Violent action. We need to do something.”
“And you have an idea? An idea you want to discuss with me, only me, in a forest?” Pieces began to slowly fall into place, but the complete picture was yet out of Takeshi’s grasp. All he knew was that he wouldn’t like it. “Does this have to do with Ando and his PR endeavour?”
“Yes and no. It has to do with us needing someone on the inside. We need someone in the government, someone whom people trust, someone who is reliable, and someone who can pave the way for Usagi and Mamoru.”
Takeshi gave Umino a long, levelled look, one that made lesser men tremble, but Umino met it, unflinchingly, and it was Takeshi who broke eye contact first. Umino, Zoisite, the only one of them without blood on his hands. The only one who had been able to break Beryl’s curse.
And that made him the only person whose opinion Takeshi could not ignore.
“Let’s go back,” the architect said, and when he turned to leave, his slumped shoulders told a tale of defeat.
***
He dropped Umino off at the hospital, where the younger man set out to have lunch with Ami and Mamoru. Carefully weaving his car through the midday traffic, Takeshi drove past crystal spires, broken buildings, and finally, towards the palace. He parked his car in a side street, but did not bother to take one of the secret entrances. It had taken all of them shamefully long to find out that nobody ever noticed their comings and goings: the palace had a shield that just seemed to swallow them up, or draw the attention of eventual onlookers on something or someone else. The exact workings of the shield were a mystery as of yet, but Takeshi resolved to ask Ami to look into it. He might not approve of her actions, but she was without a doubt the smartest of them all.
Passing a few policemen (there were always some around to make sure that nobody touched the crystal, not to protect the building, but to protect the hapless citizens) and a number of tourists with big cameras, merrily clicking away, taking picture after picture, he was finally swallowed up by the shield and entered the palace.
He knew that he would find Minako here now. And he was right: his girlfriend was in one of the kitchens, sitting cross-legged on a table, watching Usagi shove food into an already over-spilling fridge.
“Hello,” he said, and both women whipped around, laughter etched into their faces. Usagi promptly dropped the iceberg salad she’d been trying to wedge into the fridge.
“Oh, you scared me!” Usagi burst out with a big smile, and abandoned the fridge and the salad to give Takeshi a hug. Even though Minako was not much taller than Usagi, the princess always felt tiny in his arms, like a child he wanted and needed to protect.
Instead of greeting Minako with a kiss, as was their custom, he pulled up a chair and sat down. His heart felt heavy, he couldn’t describe it any other way. He knew she would be all in favour of Umino’s plan, would think it a brilliant idea.
“What’s up?” Minako asked, the laughter slowly fading from her eyes.
Takeshi glanced at Usagi; he wouldn’t discuss it in front of her. Minako rolled her eyes. “Hey Usa, do you think you could fetch me the book Ando was talking about earlier? If I barge in on him and Rei, he will probably set fire to my house or something, but if you do it, then it’ll be fine.”
Usagi, bending down to pick up the salad, giggled. “Like teenagers, those two. Do you need the book now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you just using me to annoy them and don’t care about the book at all?”
“Something like that.”
“Isn’t that a bit mean?”
“How often has Ando interrupted you and Mamoru since he got back?”
“Good point.”Usagi pressed the salad into Takeshi’s hands and took off, leaving Minako, still sitting on the table as if it were a sofa, and Takeshi, on the chair in front of her, alone.
Wasting no time, Takeshi looked up. “Umino wants me to go into politics. The ministry is putting together a task-force that is supposed to aid the government in finding citizen-appropriate ways to deal with the crystal. He thought an architect would be most useful there and that I could use it as a springboard.”
“Springboard for what?”
“Run in an election, a seat on the city council, parliament. Who knows, he hasn’t mentioned an end point.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Will you do it anyway?” Minako unfolded her legs and scooped closer to the edge of table, letting her dangling legs frame Takeshi. She took the salad out of his hands and carelessly tossed it aside.
“It’s fulltime.”
“So you couldn’t work in your office anymore.”
“No.”
She was silent for a moment, and then slid off the table and onto Takeshi’s lap. “It would be a good move,” she said slowly, and moved to stroke his cheek. He caught her hand in his before her fingers touched his skin.
“Does it matter - at all - that I don’t want this?”
Minako leaned forward, and Takeshi saw her face change. It went from loving to worried in seconds. “Takeshi, this is your duty. Yours and mine both. You know that.”
“Sometimes I wish it wasn’t.”
“They come first. They always will, always have. We do what’s best for them.”
“What about what’s best for us?”
“You once did what you thought was best for us, and it didn’t end well. Let’s do what’s best for them, and then all of our happiness will follow. Just give it time. Don’t-- I mean, talk it over with Mamoru. I’m sure it will help.”
“Oh,” he said softly. “You think this is me backing out of my vows to Endymion. Again.”
He got up, gently pushing her off of him in the process.
“Takeshi, you’re getting this all wrong. I only meant-”
“I know perfectly well what you meant, Minako. Perfectly well.”
“I only think--- Takeshi, I have seen Crystal Tokyo, and I know that it can be great, no matter what people say. We just need to work to get there, all of us, together. And you’re great, reliable. If you tell people that it’s a good place, a safe place, they will trust you.”
“Like you do?
“Yes.”
“Then,” Takeshi murmured, standing in the door frame with stopped shoulders, “we have a problem.”
***
Whistling a cheery tune, Usagi bounded down the stairs. She was slowly learning her way around the palace; in the first few days, she had spent more time getting lost than even sleeping. She had been trying to reconcile the new palace with the one she had seen in the future, but try as she might, she simply could not follow the same corridors and find the same rooms. Of course, Usagi was the first one to admit that her sense of orientation wasn’t exactly stellar, and during her stint in the future, she’d been more concerned with saving the world and Chibi-Usa than memorising floor plans. So whenever Usagi thought she just needed to walk straight ahead to find the more or less useless throne room, or take a left to find the future king’s study, and instead found herself in some small flower-filled atrium or on a balcony, she shrugged, laughed, and called Mamoru to come fetch her. Or, after Umino, Ami, Rei, and Ando moved in, loudly shouted “Marco” until a friendly but exasperated “Polo” from somewhere sounded back and told her where she needed to go.
But it was getting better these days, and after she had knocked on Ando’s door, mischievous grin on her face, only to find it empty, she made her way back to the kitchen almost effortlessly. Three flights of stairs down, left, right, left, and then she was already in the right hallway.
Bounding into the kitchen with glee, ready to tell Minako all about her new superior orientation skills, Usagi skidded to a halt. Minako had her back to the door, and was methodically cleaning the fridge. She had already emptied it out completely, putting everything on the table with the freshly bought groceries. A small bucket with soapy water was on the floor beside her, and she was wiping the vegetable drawer with measured strokes. Now, if this were Makoto, then Usagi would just plop down at the table and tell her tale, but it wasn’t. Usagi had known Minako for years, and the only time her friend voluntarily and diligently cleaned and tidied up was when she was feeling miserable.
“Where’s Takeshi?” Usagi asked, her good mood dripping away like water from a melting ice cube.
“Gone home.” Minako’s voice was calm. She bent down and dipped the sponge into the water, then wringing it out, and dipping it in again.
“Mi, I was only gone for ten minutes and you’re cleaning and he’s not here. What’s wrong? I thought we could have lunch together.”
“I don’t think Takeshi is feeling very hungry.”
“And I don’t think you really want to clean.”
Minako snorted. “No, but I can, so this is what I’m doing.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll make us a sandwich.” Minako turned around, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “Look at you, all domestic.”
Usagi shrugged and grinned. “They call me the breakfast fairy; I am looking to widen my repertoire.”
“Haruka and Michiru visited me on my birthday.”
The grin slid off Usagi’s face. “They didn’t come to congratulate you, did they?”
“No. They came to ‘talk some sense into me’,” Minako snorted, drawing inverted commas into the air with disdain while the soapy water dripped from her fingers. “They believe that the shitennou should not be a part of Crystal Tokyo, surprise surprise, never heard that one before, and that they are the cause of all our troubles. Michiru has looked into her mirror, and is now convinced that because the shitennou were accepted back into our ranks, the future changed and the peaceful Crystal Tokyo that should have come to pass is not on the cards anymore. So basically, we are doomed.”
Usagi crinkled her nose. “I don’t believe that. I think it will be all better. Just look at Rei. If they would look at Rei and see how happy she is, then they couldn’t believe the boys to be bad. Plus,” she added with a confidence, “Hiro has dogs and kids and makes really good pancakes.”
“I agree.”
“He made pancakes for you too? Aww, that’s nice. I like that you are getting along better.”
“I was actually talking about the kids and dogs part and how this inherently makes him a good person. Annoying, but good. He never made me pancakes.”
“And now Takeshi is feeling all guilty because of this? That’s so silly.”
“Usa, I haven’t told him.”
“Then what did you fight about?”
“Umino has asked Takeshi to apply to join the governmental task-force that deals with the palace. Takeshi doesn’t want to, but it’s a good idea, and then we talked about duty and he was so weird, and I completely misinterpreted what he was saying, and insinuated that him not joining the government would be a mistake like----” Minako trailed off, and helplessly wrung the sponge in her hands, letting the water drip on the crystal floor.
“Like? Wait... like on the moon? Oh Minako, really! You know you can’t say stuff like that to Takeshi!”
“I know! It just came out, and then he was gone, and now he thinks I don’t trust him, which I do, but he’s so tetchy about this stuff.”
“So is Mamoru,” Usagi said, and began to assemble the ingredients for a nice, hearty sandwich. “I don’t even want to know how he will react to Michiru’s and Haruka’s warning. He’ll probably drive over and try to stab them with his pointy roses.”
Minako giggled. “I would pay good money to see that.”
“Me too,” Usagi admitted and then clapped her hands over her mouth. “I shouldn’t say things like that. They’re our friends too.”
“Great friends they are: missing birthdays and christenings and weddings and house-warming parties, but hey, you can always rely on them to warn you about the apocalypse.”
Spreading cottage cheese on two slices of bread, Usagi rolled her eyes. “We have Rei for that. If something were to happen, or had gone wrong, she would have told us long before Michiru even picked up her mirror. Do you want salmon or salami?”
“The salmon is for your and Mamoru for a nice Sunday morning breakfast, so save it for tomorrow. Just toss some lettuce on it, that’ll do.”
Blithely ignoring her friend, Usagi reached for the pack of sliced salmon and ripped it open. “Mamo has to spend the night in the hospital, so when he comes tomorrow morning, and I tell him about Michiru and Haruka after a 36 hours shift, I don’t think he’ll be in the mood for a romantic breakfast.”
“Then don’t,” Minako said with a kind of quiet determination.
“What?”
“Don’t tell him. And I won’t tell Takeshi. Things are bad enough anyway, what’s the point in upsetting them?”
“Mi, I don’t know. I don’t like secrets. We can’t keep this to ourselves.”
“We won’t, I mean, we wouldn’t. Ando knows.”
“You told Ando, but you’re not telling Takeshi? You’re falling back into your old patterns.” Usagi fixed Minako with a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you made him promise not tell Rei.”
“Of course not. I didn’t make him promise anything. Ando is a smart cookie, he knows how to deal with this sort of information.”
“He will tell Umino.”
“No, he won’t,” Minako answered, shaking her head.
Reaching for the salad, Usagi cocked her brow. The two girls stared at each other.
Minako winced. “Oh damn, he will tell Umino.”
“Yup,” Usagi said, and thinking of the nice salmon sandwich Makoto had made her last week, looked around the kitchen for more ingredients. “Now, tomatoes too?”
***
Night was falling, and at the heart of Tokyo, the palace glowed in the moonlight. From the outside, the three men looked up at the smooth surface, the shimmering crystal.
“You know, I know exactly where my window is supposed to be, but fuck me if I can find it,” Ando said, hands in his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips.
Beside him, Umino closed his eyes in mock exasperation. “The idea of protective charms is that you can’t see anything, can’t find out where the people you might want to attack are.”
Mamoru reached past Umino and snapped the cigarette out of Ando’s mouth, tossing it on the floor and then, for good measure, grinding it to pieces with his shoe.
“Hey, I was smoking that!” Ando complained.
“And I was operating on a man with lung cancer today.”
Umino bumped his shoulder against Mamoru’s. “Didn’t go well?”
“He died on the table. That’s why my shift was over six hours early,” Mamoru answered, and glared at Ando. “So no more crap from you tonight.”
“Is that a royal order?”
“Ando, one of these days, someone is going to punch you in the face,” Umino pointed out, giving his best friend a reproving look while managing to look positively gleeful at the same time.
“Well, Takeshi has already done that oh what, like ten years ago? I’m still alive, and he’s still a miserable bastard, so I don’t think punching me does anyone any good. Or harm. Or anything. My point is, don’t punch me.”
Mamoru grinned. “I’m not going to punch you. I’m going to tell Rei on you.”
Ando’s face fell. “You wouldn’t!”
“Of course I would. Umino, would I?”
Umino nodded serenely. “Yes, you would. Now, can we go inside? It’s really late, and I want to go to bed. I don’t understand why we have to stand out here anyway. Whose stupid idea was that anyway, sneaking out in the middle of the night?”
“Mine,” Ando said. “And I just wanted to talk to the both of you in private before you cuddle up to your respective wives.”
“Girlfriend,” Umino corrected. “And what do you need to discuss with us that Ami and Usagi shouldn’t hear?”
“Minako had some visitors on her birthday.”
“Who?” Mamoru asked, a sense of foreboding crawling up on him.
“Michiru and Haruka.”
“And?” the doctor prodded, “what did they want?”
“The usual. The shitennou are bad, we will soon show our true nature, set fire to the world, kick puppies, yadda yadda yadda. But they had a new spiel too: because you accepted us back-”
“Which I have never regretted for even a minute,” Mamoru interjected fiercely, causing Umino to smile.
“- that’s very nice, and believe it or not, makes me go disgustingly warm and fuzzy inside, but is a little besides the point,” Ando continued, “because you accepted us back, they believe the future, and by that they mean Crystal Tokyo, has changed irrevocably. Whatever you saw in your little time travel adventures, they don’t think it’s gonna happen. Michiru looked in some mirror or something. Very Brothers Grimm.”
“I saw my wife encased in a crystal coffin, so really, if having all of you around can keep that from happening, then I’m not complaining.”
“Agreed,” Ando said. “Just wanted to let you know that the angry ladies still think we are mad, bad, and dangerous to know, but judging from how Minako took it, and by that I mean badly, I figured I better tell you two when Ami and Usagi are not around. They are sweet things, I didn’t want to upset them. Now, let’s get back inside, it’s bloody freezing.”
Mamoru and Ando began to move, but Umino did not. Instead, the philosopher stood still, looking up at the palace without blinking.
“Umino?” Mamoru asked, half-turning back towards his friend. “Are you coming?”
“Did Michiru say what exactly was changing?” Umino inquired, his voice oddly flat.
“Umm, I think she said ‘everything’,” Ando said. “Why, what’s going on? What did I miss?”
And then Umino looked at Mamoru, and goosebumps rose on the doctor’s skin. “You don’t think--”
“I think,” Umino said, dread crawling up on his ever-young face, “that ‘everything’ is more than the crystal coffin, and how the city was brought about. I think everything, Mamoru,-----”
“----Don’t say it,” Mamoru whispered, suddenly understanding.
“---Includes your daughter.”
***End of Chapter Five***