Fic: On Razor's Edge - Chapter Seven
Title: On Razor’s Edge - Chapter 7
Summary: Crystal Tokyo has arrived. So has Ando Tanaka.
Warnings: Oh, lots and lots of swearing. But other than that, tame.
A/N:. Written for venusorbit1’s help_japan donation with plenty of help from Charlie and Spirit.
The previous chapter is 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
***
Eight o'clock in the evening, and across Japan, all eyes were fastened on the television, where the anchorman from J News One was interviewing the two people who had changed the world. On a little platform in front of a screen with the blue J News One logo, three red leather armchairs stood. The one at the right was inhabited by the famous Hayato Ito, Japan’s most famous news anchorman, acting as host for the evening. Dressed in a grey suit with a light blue tie (which matched the channel’s logo perfectly), he - unlike his two guests - looked perfectly at ease.
“Mrs. Chiba, let's get the nasty business out of the way, shall we?” the host asked with his most winning (and startlingly fake) smile. Usagi, dressed in a simple yellow dress, nodded, her pretty face pale and worried. “Of course, ask away.” Minako and Ando had prepared her for the interview, going over likely questions, outlining good answers, teaching her how to evade line of inquiry she was uncomfortable with. However, no part of the week long media crash had prepared herself for Hayato Ito’s first question.
“Are you an alien?”
Usagi blinked at him. Everyone in the studio and in front of the televisions held their breath, waiting for the all important answer to the question, hoping and fearing ----- and then Usagi began to giggle, and the tension broke. “Dear God, no, not at all. Do I look that green and slimy to you?”
“Of course not,” the host hastily assured, and this time, his smile was real.
Beside her, suited up to the nines, Mamoru shared neither his wife’s amusement nor the audience’s relief, and instead clearly took offence with the question. Noticing Mamoru’s sour expression, Ito’s wide smile slid off when he turned to him. “I take it the same applies - or rather does not - to your husband?”
“We're very, very human, Mr. Ito,” Mamoru replied, his voice cutting, and his shoulders tense. His every word, every gesture proclaimed that he’d rather be anywhere but here, while beside him, Usagi, signature hairstyle once more on display, hair magically regrown to its former length, beamed into the camera. “We’re just like everyone else, except for the glittery stuff!” Usagi exclaimed, ponytails bobbing, her hand reaching for her husband’s.
The anchor turned to the camera, dramatically pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. “Well, that's something, isn't it?”
***
In Makoto's café, the few guests still present at this late hour too were watching the news programme, the food on their plates and the drinks in their mugs completely forgotten. Behind the counter, Makoto had her eyes on them rather than the small flat screen bolted to the wall in the corner. If anyone could win the population over, it was Usagi. But the people did not share the anchorman's relief: their gaze was too hostile for that. Makoto sighed, and reached for her phone, sending a quick text to Minako. This better start working soon, or all the exposure and the danger that came with it was for naught.
***
“And I attended the Juuban High School, and my parents still live in the area.” The anchor smiled, clearly wrapped around the finger by Usagi's charm. When he turned to Mamoru, the smile dimmed, and a wariness entered his eyes. This was not good, Ando thought, and stepped closer to the producer, who was watching the interview from behind the cameras. If it was Usagi people responded well to, then they would need to focus on that. They could shove Mamoru down their throats later. “How would you feel about a tour of the palace? The camera crew, Hayato Ito, you, and Mrs. Chiba?”
The producer's face lit up. “When?”
Looking over his shoulder, Ando's eyes met Minako's, who was standing next to one of J News One’s board members. She nodded, and flipped open her phone.
“Tonight,” Ando offered with his best car salesman smile.
***
In a small government building near the financial district, the Crystal Tokyo Citizen Taskforce had its second meeting. Of course, they too were watching the interview. Its chairman, one Takeshi Nakamura, had his eyes fastened on the television, narrowing them when the host turned to Mamoru.
“And you, Mr. Chiba, did you grow up in Tokyo as well?” “I did. As my wife said, this city is our home.” “And do your parents still live here too?” At the question, Mamoru forced a smile, but Takeshi could easily see how false it was. The question was, could everyone else?
“I'm an orphan.”
The host blinked, but quickly found his footing again, affecting an expression of compassion and leaning over to pat Mamoru on the shoulder. “My condolences.” Takeshi made a mental note to praise Mamoru for not punching the man in the face. Talking about the loss of his family on national television was clearly not something Mamoru found easy to deal with.
One of the taskforce members, a small stocky man on his fifth cup of coffee, snorted. “Maybe he's an alien after all. No parents. That's fishy. He could have been dropped here.” Ever since the interview had started, it had been clear that people did not respond well to Mamoru. Usagi they liked, but Mamoru they mistrusted, and even Takeshi, who was not given to expressing emotions openly, could see how Mamoru’s reticence affected the way he came across. However, how the loss of one’s parents was “fishy” and how it translated to Mamoru being “dropped here”, Takeshi could not see.
He arched a brow. “Dropped from where, exactly?”
“Outer space!” the man exclaimed and gestured wildly at the ceiling. “Who knows, he could be from the Moon, or something!”
Turning back to the television, Takeshi pressed his lips into a thin line. “I think he is very much from Earth.”
***
In the palace, Rei just put her phone away. “That was Minako. They will tape a tour of the palace immediately after the interview. The interview will wrap in twenty minutes, then another twenty until they have everything packed. I expect them to be here in about an hour.”
Looking down at himself, Umino sighed. “I don't own a suit.” He was wearing an old pair of corduroy pants, worn soft by use, a blue jumper his grandmother had made for him, and slippers. Comfortable clothes for what he had thought would be an uncomfortable evening in front of the television. Of course, they were not watching the programme on his own TV in his and Ami’s bedroom. He liked Rei Hino, but she did not invite the easy camaraderie he shared with Usagi, Mina, Hiro or Ando. You didn’t hang out on your bed with Rei Hino, eating candy and watching TV.
From her position in Mamoru’s armchair, Rei smiled at him. Since she didn’t have a television, and Ando did not have a couch, she and Umino had decided to watch the interview in Usagi’s and Mamoru’s living room. “You don't need to. The two of us will not appear on the programme.” Mamoru had been adamant that no one who did not necessarily have to would be revealed to be associated with the palace, the crystal, or the Chibas. Hiro and Makoto had agreed with visible relief while Takeshi had done so more grudgingly. Ami, Setsuna, Umino and herself had not had much of an opinion on the matter, and had thus allowed Mamoru to set the rules for the interview. Of course, his control had lasted for exactly five minutes before Minako and Ando took over. Briefly wondering whether the idea for the tour was her friend’s or her boyfriend’s, Rei decided that it hardly mattered. She and Umino would have to disappear for a while.
“So they are saying they live here alone?” Umino asked, toying with the shirt sleeve of his jumper.
Rei nodded. The more she thought about it, the less sense it made to her. Wouldn’t it be better if people thought that non-magical, normal people inhabited the palace without harm too? She would have to speak to Ando and Minako about that, but for now, they needed to get going. She sighed and pushed herself out of the armchair.
Umino got up too, looking around the room. On the coffee table in front of them, four sets of dirty plates and mugs spoke of the early dinner they had shared with Usagi and Mamoru before they left for the studio. Stacking up the plates, and letting each mug dangle from a finger, he frowned. “Then we better see that they find no trace of us.”
***
“And when did you notice that you could... grow wings?”
“Oh, when I was sixteen. But they're not real wings, they're just a part of the outfit.” Usagi shrugged. After so many years as a senshi, she was used to her uniform, to the boots and bows, and even to the wings. Strictly speaking, the wings weren’t a part of the costume, they were fully functional wings, and even allowed her to fly or rather float upwards, but she and the girls had decided not to admit to that. The plan was to make her look as normal and as human as possible.
“Astonishing!” the host exclaimed, and turned backwards to the screen, where the J News One logo had been replaced by a blurry picture of Usagi and Mamoru sealing the volcano away. “They looked so real.”
“I know!”
Closing his eyes, Ando felt the change in direction before the anchorman spoke. If only he could not only read minds, but also transmit messages! Damn.
“But the volcano and the crystal are not part of a costume,” Hayato Ito said, his tone suddenly growing darker. Mamoru cleared his throat, and Usagi blinked. She had not seen this coming. “No, no they're not.”
Leaning closer to Usagi, the host lowered his voice, knowing that the mircophone would still capture every word he said, but that the dramatic effect would be transmitted too. “Don't you think that by attempting to banish one evil, you created another?” On the screen behind them, the picture of her and Mamoru disappeared, and images of the crystal-torn buildings appeared, one after the other. The Museum of Modern Art. Flash. The Muguen Gauken tower. Flash. A small residential street. Flash. A bridge. Flash. And finally, an aerial shot of the palace, and the destruction it had wreaked across the district.
Mamoru crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the host. Behind the camera, Ando frantically shook his head, and Mamoru uncrossed his arms again.
Usagi turned to her husband, willing him to take this question. Having never been able to deny her anything, he cleared his throat.
“If we had not used our... singular ability, then Tokyo would have been wiped out. Completely. Irrevocably. We could not let this happen, but never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences.”
***
Across town, little Aiko sat on the floor right in front of the TV, excitedly jabbing her fingers at it every time Mamoru and Usagi came into view. It was an hour past her bedtime, but her mother had promised her that she could watch five minutes of Auntie Usa on the telly. Already wearing her favourite pink pyjamas and clutching her most beloved stuffed toy to her chest (a slightly ragged looking dog named Sparkles), Aiko knew that the five minutes were up already, but with the slyness of all little children who didn’t want to go to bed, she waited for her father or Aunt Ami to point it out.
On the couch, Hiro sat frozen, and had since the interview started.
“Never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences.”
Beside him, Ami, a sleeping baby Yoshi on her lap, opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. There really weren’t any words.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, LOOK!” Aiko exclaimed, “Uncle Mamo is on telly! Daddy, look!”
”But we are doing everything we can to turn this into something positive. We are working on ways to control the crystal and to turn its growth into something useful.”
Without announcement, Hiro got up, walked over to the television, and switched it off, his whole body brimming with tension. Aiko looked up at him, big brown eyes pleading. “Do I have to go to bed now? Just five more minutes, Daddy, pleeeeeeeaaaase!”
Looking down at his daughter, Hiro felt his heart constrict in his chest. Never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences. Still waiting for his verdict, Aiko reached over and tugged at the leg of his jeans. “Daddy, please?”
Hiro exhaled, and forced a smile on his face. “Want to go play with Bones and Spock?”
Aiko jumped up, dropping her toy on the floor. Full of excitement, she jumped on the spot while still clutching her father’s pants with one hand. Night time play time with the dogs! Could it get any better? A wild thought crossed her head. “Can Bonesy wear the tutu again? Please please please?”
“Of course,” Hiro said gruffly, and picked the little girl up, burying his head in her brown curls as he carried her out into the garden.
***
The interview had moved to the next section more or less seamlessly. When it became clear that neither Usagi nor Mamoru had anything more to say about their own guilt and culpability, and a short clip of a geographer (two doctoral degrees, professorship from an Ivy League university in the States, chair of the geography department at Tokyo University, extensive fieldwork in Indonesia, found and charmed and driven to the studio by one Minako Aino) had been interjected to explain that the volcano under the palace would have indeed wiped out the entire city, and no, there was no working method to have stopped that from happening, the mood became a little friendlier once more. Behind the camera, Ando and Minako exchanged a look: this was getting better, but there was still a long way to go.
“What do you think of the new Crystal Tokyo Citizen Taskforce?”
Usagi broke into a wide smile, almost bouncing in her seat. “It's such a good idea! I'm sure the people there will do a great job!” She beamed directly at the camera, and Minako knew that despite being broadcasted all over the world, her trusting smile was for Takeshi, and Takeshi alone.
The host chuckled. Like most people who met her, he had a hard time not being enamored with Usagi, and when talking to her, his style of questioning was always a little kinder than when he was addressing Mamoru. “Do you share your wife's confidence in the taskforce?”
Mamoru nodded, feeling that the interview was finally moving on safe ground. “Absolutely. We need to work together, and we will offer the taskforce any and every assistance possible.”
Turning directly to the camera, Mamoru said, “if the taskforce would like a tour of the building to familiarise themselves with the crystal, then I would be more than happy to guide them.”
***
“No, it's too dangerous, we can't go in there. He'd kill us in cold blood and seal us away in ice cubes!”
At the invitation, the taskforce had erupted into an instant fight. Half of the group was keen to go in, whereas the other half, the ones who had only signed up to find ways to get rid of the crystal, the palace, and the people they blamed for its existence, point blank refused to set foot anywhere near it. Takeshi, having always disliked loud and spineless people, stood up. Immediately, the room fell silent.
“I propose that the tour is on a voluntary basis only. I for one will go. I do not believe anyone will come to harm, especially not after the Chibas have gone public with this interview. There is too much at risk for them.”
Of course, none of the people in this room had any idea just what was at risk. His best friend and his wife, for one. His godchild. It was the thought of Aiko dying in a battle some ten odd years in the future that had propelled Takeshi into action. As soon as he had left Mamoru in Usagi’s excellent care after learning about the prophecy, he had driven straight to work, handed in his letter of resignation, packed up his office, and begun to focus all his attention on the CTCT.
The only thing he had not expected was that the CTCT would be full of idiots. He needed an ally here, a second voice to support his own. Someone who projected a cool analytical mind, someone with manners and class, someone like---
Setsuna Meioh.
***
As the programme went on a commercial break (advertising slots having been sold for prices normally only attained during World Cups), Minako flitted onto the stage, just as the host exited it to have his make-up retouched. Covering both Mamoru's and Usagi's microphones with one hand each, she bent down. “Usagi, more smiling, and I know this sounds silly, but if at any point, you could start to cry, then that would be really, really great.”
Mamoru whipped around as if someone had set fire to his hair. “Are you joking?”
Checking that nobody could listen in on them, Minako lowered her voice. “Mamoru, this is not going as well as we'd hoped. You need to be more cordial. This is all about getting people to like you two. Usagi is a doozy, but you are not. So try to smile every once in a while, for fuck's sake.”
Just then the anchorman stepped back on. His face looked slightly orange, but Minako knew it would not translate onto the screen. Instead, he'd look healthy, and Usagi and Mamoru would look sickly pale.
“Hey, make-up, those two here need some rouge!” she shouted.
***
Thoughtfully, Umino walked through the palace. Rei hurried on ahead, closing doors, and locking them, his and Ami's rooms, the kitchens (except for one), Rei's garden-level rooms, Ando's tower, and of course, the throne room. All symbols of royalty had to be hidden, buried, forgotten for a long, long time, or they would find themselves hunted with pitchforks. Or, as Michiru's vision suggested, tanks.
Umino trailed behind. He knew he should hurry, they needed to get all doors locked before the camera crew got here, but then again, what was more suspicious than a closed door in an open house? There was a fundamental flaw in their logic: if they just locked the doors, then everyone would want to look inside, revealing that the palace was inhabited by more than two. No, this would not do...
Umino stopped.
“What if I make them go away?” he murmured, and tentatively waved a hand over the double doors leading to the throne room. Back in the Silver Millenium, he too had been able to wield a little magic. Nothing as amazing as Jadeite's mindreading, Nephrite’s star-gazing, or Kunzite's gift to send bursts of what they now knew to be electricity out of his fingertips, but he too had had a particular ability. Finding and hiding, finding and hiding. Everything and everywhere.
He waved his hands once more. To him, the door looked just like it always did: large, royal, and imposing.
“Rei, come here, please,” the philosopher called, and the former priestess came running.
“What do you see?” he asked, frowning. His talent had always been a bit tricky, and he hadn’t used it in well over two-thousand years. There was no telling it still worked, he should have practised---
“Where?” Rei looked around the hallway.
“Here,” he pointed to the doors behind him, a slow giddiness spreading through his stomach.
“Nothing,” Rei responded somewhat impatiently. “Did you lock the throne room?”
“Do you see the throne room?” Umino rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets. She blinked. “It's... it's a little further down the hall, isn't it?” She walked in the direction she'd indicated, but no door was to be found. All there was was smooth crystal, the flames swirling beneath it, pooling wherever she came to stand.
“It should be right here,” she exclaimed and wheeled around, black hair flying around her shoulders, panic in her eyes.
Grinning from ear to ear, Umino waved his hand again, and the door materialised once more. “And it is.”
***
In a black limousine the channel had provided, Ando, Minako, Usagi and Mamoru were heading for the palace. Minako’s phone beeped and she quickly checked it.
“Okay,” she muttered with visible relief, “okay.” Fingers flying over the small screen, she typed a quick answer before showing the original message to Mamoru and Usagi.
From: REI
All traces of us hidden. Umino hid doors to throne room, our rooms, dungeons. Ground floor kitchen open, some cupcakes and batter lying around. Usagi can pretend to have made those. Offer to host, they are from Makoto, will win points. We now leave for Mako’s café, text when tour is done.
Usagi blinked. “What does she mean, Umino--?”
“Shush!” Minako cut across her and handed the phone to Ando. “Not in here.” She gave Usagi a look and subtly pointed at the driver behind the half-lowered glass window separating the driving from the sitting area of the car.
Usagi blushed. “Sorry.”
Mamoru glared at Minako. “It’s okay, Usa,” he said and placed a kiss on his wife’s head.
Meanwhile, Ando had finished reading the text, and typed in a reply of his own.
“What are you writing?” Mina asked and leaned over to peer over his shoulder and onto the phone.
“None of your business.”
“Are you sending her love messages from my phone? Aww, Ando. You two are so cute. Cute and inappropriate. I wouldn’t send this if I were you. I don’t think Rei would appreciate a message from my phone saying I miss her.”
Ando groaned and shoved the phone back in Mina’s hands, instead retrieving his own, from the inner pocket of his navy suit jacket.
“Not the time, Ando,” Mamoru said coldly, earning himself a glare from both the journalist and his wife. Believing in swift punishment, Usagi elbowed her husband in the ribs. “Mamo, be more romantic!”
Ever since Mamoru learned that Ando had told Usagi what he himself had been trying to shield her from, the relationship between the two men had grown rather frosty. What further complicated matters was that Usagi was staunchly on Ando’s side and every time Mamoru’s residual anger flared up, his wife was the first to call him out on it, which of course made Mamoru resent Ando even more. It was a vicious circle that no party seemed to be able to break. Not that either party was trying very hard.
Right now, Ando leaned forward and quickly patted Usagi’s cheek. “You’re my guardian and protector, Usa. The champion of love.” The blonde preened, and Mamoru frowned, swatting at Ando’s hand as if it were a fly. Grinning cheekily, the journalist turned to Minako, who was texting again. “Looks like someone has bested you at your job, Mi.”
Minako looked up for a split second, clearly having missed the entire exchange. “Huh?”
“Nevermind,” Ando said. “Who are you texting now?”
“Mako first, then Takeshi. I want to know what the response to the interview is.”
Loosening his tie, Ando made a face. “I think we can make an educated guess.”
“So I’m a problem, aren’t I?” Mamoru asked with venom. From the moment they had agreed to the interview, it had become clear that this was a game he did not know how to play. He couldn’t charm people like Usagi, Minako and Ando. He was at home in the hospital, where he was capable and respected, where he did his job and made a difference. Fishing for attention and affection was not what he did.
“Your attitude is,” Ando replied evenly and Mamoru’s jaw clenched.
“Boys, not in here,” Minako pointed out, her fingers still flying over her phone. Mako had already texted back, confirming her fears. Hastily finishing her message to Takeshi, she looked out of the window. The city was flying past them, and the more and more crystals adorned the landscape, the closer to the palace they were getting. “Nearly there,” Minako murmured. “Mamoru, when we arrive, it would be good if you could... go into your study, or something.”
Mamoru frowned. “I don’t have a study.”
“Yes, you do,” Minako said slowly. “West wing, second floor. Lots of medical books.”
Mamoru blinked, and then it clicked. They had moved Ami’s books and desk into one of the empty rooms. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”
“Is it?” Minako asked, and the image of Aiko playing with her parents, and of Usagi and Mamoru holding a laughing Chibi-Usa flashed in her mind. Ando closed his eyes. He hadn’t been able to shield himself from the thoughts of his friends lately. It must be the stress, the lack of sleep, the direness of their situation; everything accelerated his ability and he had yet to find out how to rein it back in. Unbidden, he did not receive little thoughts, trivial ones, but every time someone around him thought of the prophecy, it resonated in his mind like a power drill.
“We’re there,” the driver announced, and the car came to a stop in front of the palace.
***
Even though the café had officially closed at nine, there was still light on inside, and the bell at the door announced yet another visitor. Behind the counter, Makoto looked up, relief flooding her face when it was Takeshi she saw walking up to her.
“How did it go?” she asked, stepping out behind the counter to give him a brief hug.
“Good evening,” he said politely and hugged her back before taking off his trench. “Not very good, I’m afraid. Predictably, everyone responded well to Usagi and that geographer, but Mamoru is a different matter.”
“Same here,” Makoto admitted, and went to fix Takeshi some coffee. “Perhaps this palace tour tonight will help, and then if the CTCT goes on another one, and comes up with some positive angles, we might be getting somewhere.”
“I have called Setsuna. The CTCT will hire her too.”
“That’s good.”
Takeshi sat down on a barstool and folded his hands on the counter. “How’s Hiro?” he asked, not meeting Makoto’s eyes.
She sighed. “Not leaving Aiko’s side. Yesterday, he sat on the bench across from her kindergarten all day. Ami’s with him tonight.” Makoto had needed a break. It was bad enough that their daughter was at risk, but she couldn’t cope with Hiro and his barely suppressed rage. Her husband’s attitude to the palace had never been good to begin with, but since a visibly disturbed Takeshi had knocked on their door with the news of the prophecy, Hiro had barely held it together. At first, he had insisted that they pack up and leave Tokyo, moving to some remote place far away from the city. Then he had wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to leave the country altogether, even beginning to quiz Ando on possible locales. It was about that time that Makoto had put her foot down. She wouldn’t leave Usagi, and when the first real signs of the revolution against the palace appeared, they would send Aiko away, but not sooner. They had a life here, they had friends here, and, as she reminded him gravely, they had a duty too, and she for one wasn’t willing to walk away from it.
The fight that followed was the severest one they had in their sixteen year relationship. When the atmosphere in their house became so toxic that Aiko asked them whether Mommy and Daddy would stop fighting if she promised be to a good girl and tidy up her room more often, Hiro had taken both kids and dogs to his parents. He hadn’t said when he would be back, and Makoto had done her best to appear upbeat in front of the children, waving while the car that held her whole world had rolled out of the driveway.
In the suddenly silent house, stuffed full of reminders of the people who were getting further and further away from her, Makoto had choked up and called Takeshi. He had come over and picked her up immediately. For the next three days, he had taken care of her, putting food in front of her that she barely touched, offering to play chess with her in the evenings while she silently stared at the walls, and even held her hand when she made the nightly call to Aiko.
On the fourth day, it was Minako who brought her breakfast (badly burned scrambled eggs), and Takeshi was nowhere to be found. He returned late in the evening, a sleeping Aiko in his arms, and Hiro with the baby carrier and Yoshi in it right behind him. Makoto hadn’t asked what Takeshi had said to make Hiro come back, and Takeshi hadn’t volunteered the information.
In the two weeks since her husband’s return, they had tried to mend their fences, but Makoto knew that she could not be around Hiro when the interview aired and had thus volunteered to gauge audience reactions in her café while Hiro watched the children. Not wanting him to be alone, she had asked Ami to sit with him. She was one of the few people whom he could still stand to have around him. Ando, Minako, and even Umino had been banned from visiting, and Mamoru didn’t dare to.
“I’m sure he will find Ami’s company helpful,” Takeshi offered, and accepted his coffee with a nod. “Thank you.”
Not bothering to ask, Makoto put a sandwich on a plate and placed it in front of Takeshi. “Rei and Umino are on their way here. Did you know that Umino can hide things?”
Takeshi frowned. “I’m not following.”
“He has an ability. He can change... the look of things. Create an illusion, make it seem as if something isn’t there.”
“Oh,” he said, a memory slowly swimming to the surface. He did not remember everything of his past life, and neither did the others. He mainly recalled the bond they had shared with Endymion, and the battle and the bloodshed their treason had caused. A few memories of Venus, and fights between him and... almost everyone. Kunzite had been a lonely man, an outsider, more feared than respected.
“A very useful talent these days,” he eventually said, and took a bite of the sandwich Makoto had given him. He hadn’t eaten all day, the looming interview taking his appetite away completely.
“He hid the rooms they didn’t want the camera crew to see,” Makoto said, resting against the counter.
“That’s good. I hope they remembered the dungeons.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure they did. Now, brownie?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “No, thanks. The sandwich is plenty.”
“Fine, a banana then.” She reached over and plucked a banana from an overflowing fruit bowl next to the till. She always had an assortment of fresh fruit ready, using it for smoothies and cakes. Or, as was the case now, for putting meat on a friend’s bones.
“So it’s either a brownie or a banana?” Takeshi’s eyes crinkled at the corner.
“Yup.”
“In that case, the brownie please.”
Grinning, Makoto handed him an extra large piece on a bright yellow napkin.
***
“That went well,” Ando said, and Minako, head resting on his shoulder, nodded. The two of them were sitting on the floor, leaning against the crystal walls, their feet outstretched. Minako had kicked off her heels, and Ando had ripped the tie off the second the camera crew exited the premises. He felt like his father wearing it.
Reaching over and plucking the cigarette from his hands, she took a deep drag. “I’d kill for an end of the work day cocktail.”
“I thought you don’t drink unless it’s New Year’s.”
“Oh, I’m making exceptions these days. And the new year is still almost two months away.”
“Mamoru hates you,” Ando continued non-sequitur, lighting up another cigarette for himself.
“No, Mamoru hates you,” Minako replied and peered up at him just as he looked down. Their eyes met, and the two burst into laughter.
“His face when you told Usa to cry!” Ando managed to get out between laughs. “I thought he was going to punch you!”
Holding her stomach, Minako giggled. “And when you shoved him into the study! I thought he was going to have a coronary!”
Across from them, a door opened and Usagi’s head peeked out. “What’s so funny?”
Trying to regain enough breath to speak, Minako inhaled. “Your husband’s sunny demeanour.”
Ando promptly burst into another fit of laughter, sliding down the wall until he was lying on the floor, fists hammering against the crystal. “Su- suhhhhunnny demeanour.”
Grinning, Usagi stepped outside and sat down on the floor too. “He was a bit tense.”
Slipping on her best poker face, Minako nodded. “Just a bit.”
Swatting at her friend, Usagi shook her head. “Don’t tease him so much. Are we going to Mako’s now? Umino and Rei are already there.” At the mention of Rei’s name, Ando stopped laughing and propped himself up on his elbows. “Let’s go then.”
“Look at you, excited like a puppy,” Mina said, and pushed herself up, her mini skirt riding up a few inches with the movement. “Oi, watch your skirt, ma’am. I don’t need to see your knickers. Your fiancé has enough reasons to hate me already.”
Bending down, Mina pulled his ear. “Shut up and look away.”
“Is that what you say to him in bed?”
Usagi giggled. “Ando, you’re so cheeky!” Outstretching her hands, she helped him up and brushed some ash off his jacket. “Let me go get Mamo, and then we can leave.” With an excited grin, Usagi disappeared behind the door again, calling for her husband.
“Oh yay,” Ando replied and looked at Minako, who shrugged and pulled her skirt down. “You didn’t expect her to go without him, did you?”
***
Despite the evening turning into night, the café was getting more and more busy, its lit windows warm and inviting, the smell of another batch of brownies being pulled from the oven wafting in the cool November air, and the coffee machine still whizzing.
Ami too had found her way here, feeling desperate for company. Hiro had stayed with the children, both of whom were asleep now. Ami had offered to stay until Makoto got back, but Hiro had given her a tired hug and sent her on her way. Joining her friends, and Umino in particular, at the café had been a relief. The mood here was infinitely better, the day being seen as more of a success than a failure. By the time the party from the palace arrived, everyone was already huddled together at the counter, chatting away. Only Rei looked up when the little brass bell tinkled and announced the arrival of the rest of their group. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ando, saying a silent hello. He reciprocated in kind, before loudly greeting the rest.
“We have King Arthur’s round table, and yet we meet here. Says something about the quality of your brownies, Mako,” Ando loftily said while guiding Usagi, Minako and Mamoru inside. “Speaking of which, can I get one?”
Makoto crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Brownies are for those who earned them, Ando,” she replied and gestured at Umino, Ami, Takeshi, and even Rei, who were tucking in and sipping coffee.
Usagi squeed. “I did good, I deserve brownies!” She hurried to the counter, her heels making rapid click-clack noises on terracotta floors. Wedging herself between Takeshi on a barstool and Umino leaning against the counter beside him, making just about enough use of her elbows to get there, she greedily fished for the platter that Makoto had just out of reach behind the counter. Both men shifted a bit so that the tiny blonde would have a place between them.
“Usagi!” Rei exclaimed, sounding scandalised, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
“Here, you can have mine,” Takeshi offered immediately, pushing his plate to Usagi, but Makoto shook her head. “No way. Eat up. Usagi gets her own.” Picking a plate, Makoto loaded not one, but two pieces of brownie onto it and reached for some vanilla sauce. “You really did do good, Usa. Everyone was half in love with you by the time the interview wrapped.”
Still standing close to the door, Minako and Ando looked at each other.
“Don’t I feel loved,” Minako murmured to Ando and took off her coat. “I guess we’re the bad ones today.”
Ando snorted. “What do you mean, ‘today’?” He tugged at Minako’s long, straight ponytail. “No pity party. We’re here for the cake.” This made Minako laugh, and together, the two made their way to the counter. Just as they approached, Takeshi turned around, his green eyes taking in the image of the two friends advancing together.
Noticing Takeshi’s attention, Ando let go of Mina’s hair and placed at a hand at the small of her back, steering her in Takeshi’s direction. “Play nice,” he whispered into her ear, before walking over to where Rei was sitting. He wrapped his arms round her waist from behind without further ado. She blushed a little, and jabbed at her piece of brownie with her fork. “Want some?” she asked and held up the fork for him to bite. Grinning, Ando leaned over her shoulder. “Yummy,” he said with a full mouth, and then went on to kiss Rei on the cheek. “Ando, not with your mouth full,” Rei admonished, and wiped non-existent crumbs off her cheek.
With her plate and the two pieces of hard-earned baked goods on them, Usagi left her spot between Takeshi and Umino to Mamoru, who was standing in the middle of the room like a piece of lost luggage.
“Here, we can share,” Usagi said and pressed the plate in Mamoru’s hands. He smiled.
“I’m not sure I’ve deserved brownie today, Usa. I didn’t do as well you.”
Usagi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but you can stitch people back together and I faint when I cut my pinkie slicing onions. You have earned the brownie ten times over.” Setting the plate down on the next table, Mamoru hugged Usagi.“Thank you,” he murmured in her ear, and Usagi giggled. “Your breath tickles. Let’s go eat.”
Meanwhile, Minako had moved into the spot Usagi had vacated, feeling hyper alert of Takeshi’s eyes on her. Because it was easier, and because he had done something absolutely remarkable, she addressed Umino first. “Quite the number you did there. Now that all those doors are gone, I barely found the way to Usagi’s and Mamoru’s rooms. It looks completely different.”
Umino beamed, clearly proud of himself. “They’re not gone, just hidden. I’ll make them reappear when we get back.”
“Tell her the rest,” Takeshi added, and Minako turned to him. “What rest?”
It was Ami who answered. She was standing on the other side of the counter, helping Makoto pass out food and refill plates. The young doctor was beaming. “You know how no one can see when we enter and leave the palace, even if there are plenty people watching?”
“Yes. I thought it was the Silver Crystal.”
Giddily, Umino shook his head. “It is, and it isn’t. It’s the Silver Crystal in the sense that it broadcasts and accelerates my ability.”
“So you are keeping us all hidden?” Minako asked, her jaw dropping.
“I am.”
“And you didn’t even know you were doing it?”
“Nope.”
“Wow!”
She turned back to Takeshi. “Wow,” she said again, and he smiled and nodded, looking down at his now empty plate.
“Next thing we find out,” Ando cheerily exclaimed, lifting his coffee mug in mock salute, “is that Umino is also the unwitting mastermind behind all the plumbing!” The room erupted in laughter, even Mamoru and Rei chiming in. Only Takeshi remained silent, but he did smile, which Minako took as a good sign. While the rest continued a loud and raucous joke about the protection charm and its possible effect on the toilets, Minako finally felt brave enough to talk to her fiancé.
“And how was your day?” she asked, her voice lowered.
She wanted to touch him, put a hand on his arm, or on his leg, or hug him on his barstool the way Ando was hugging Rei, but things hadn’t been good between them in the past weeks. He couldn’t seem to forgive her for not telling him about the Outers’ warning and ever since they learned about Aiko and Nemesis and Takeshi’s (or rather Kunzite’s, even though Minako thought this was splitting hairs) attempt to negotiate a treaty with Wiseman, he had taken to sleeping in the guest room.
During the time Makoto had stayed at their house, he slept in their bed for appearance’s sake, but as soon as the baker had gone home with her children and husband, Takeshi had moved into the guest room for good, even putting a few of his suits into the closet there. She barely saw him these days. Takeshi had always been a workaholic, but before Crystal Tokyo came around and had taken a giant dump on her relationship, he had always set time aside for her. Now she was lucky if she saw him when he got home in the middle of the night. If he wasn’t working at the CTCT, he was chauffeuring Mamoru around. If he wasn’t doing that, he was visiting Hiro and his goddaughter. And if he wasn’t with the Obuchis, then he took Attila for slow walks at odd hours. She had thought it was bad when he had holed himself up in his study all night; she’d been wrong. In comparison, that had been a piece of cake because at least he had still come up to their bedroom, falling asleep with her in arms.
Standing next to him in Makoto’s café, with most of their friends around them, was the closest they’d been all week. Feeling desperate and - after the success of the palace tour - perhaps a bit more daring, she took a small step to the side, so that her side was lightly pressed against his. He cleared his throat. “It could have been better.”
“How many will accompany you on the palace outing?”
“Not many. They are too afraid. But Setsuna will join us.”
Surprised, Mina tilted her head, trying to get him to meet her eyes. “Setsuna?”
“She’s joining the taskforce.”
“Oh, that’s… good,” Minako murmured. She wished Setsuna would have asked her first. Or Takeshi would have. But like this, she felt oddly side-lined and suddenly began to understand why Takeshi took issue with her going directly to Ando all the time. Being excluded didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel good at all.
“I’ve been thinking,” Takeshi said softly, and finally looked up.
“What about?” There was something in his eyes that made her worry, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“Once the taskforce truly begins to work, which also means to interact with the press, you and I can’t be seen together. It would give the whole ploy away.” Steadying herself against the counter, Minako’s heart began to beat faster. “Uh-huh.”
“I think you should move into the palace.”
Trying to sound as if her heart wasn’t breaking, she cleared her throat. “And you?”
“I rent a flat.”
“What about our house?”
He didn’t answer.
“What about Attila?”
“I take Attila.”
“And we see each other when?”
He reached over, stroking her cheek. “I’ll sneak into the palace every once in a while.”
“Every once in a while,” she repeated numbly and stepped back, bumping into Umino.
“Careful there,” he said and reached out to steady Minako, eyes still crinkling from the joy of the day’s success and from the last of Ando’s three dirty jokes. “Sorry,” Minako said, forcing a smile on her face. “Actually, I’m feeling kind of tired, I think I’ll go home. Long day.”
Behind her, Takeshi reached for her hand. She put it in the pockets of her blazer instead.
“Do you want me to drive you?” Takeshi asked, but Minako shook her head. She couldn’t stand to be in the car with him now. In fact, she couldn’t be in a car period because she was feeling as if she was about to throw up any minute now. She really needed to get out of here. “No, it’s fine. I’ll walk.”
“In those shoes?” Makoto asked, having begun to follow the exchange.
“I fight in these shoes, I can walk home in these shoes. Night everyone,” Minako said, backing away from the counter. “Usa, I’ll come by tomorrow morning for breakfast.” With another smile, this time more brittle around the edges, Minako turned around and quickly departed, the little brass bell now ringing in the total silence of the café. Ami watched her leave, blinking. “She forgot her coat.”
Not wasting a second, Ando let go of Rei and walked over to Takesh, face like thunder. “What the fuck was that?”
“None of your business, Ando,” Takeshi replied, and put his empty coffee mug on the plate and then handed both over to Makoto, who too was still staring at the door her friend had just exited through.
“Okay, I know robots don’t speak girl, so let me translate for you. You basically just told your fiancée that you want her out of the house. When engaged people move away from each other, that normally means they’re breaking up.”
“Minako knows it’s not like that.”
“Does she? And isn’t it? Looked kind of different from two seats over.”
By now everyone was listening to Ando’s and Takeshi’s argument and Mamoru chose to interject. Putting a hand on Takeshi’s shoulder, he gave Ando a long look. “Takeshi, would you mind giving Usa and me a ride back to the palace? We came on foot, and I don’t feel like walking back.”
“Of course,” Takeshi answered and got up.
“Oh, so you are on board with this?” Ando asked, feeling his blood boil. Moving away from his fiancée and sending her out of their house and taking the dog she had rescued all those years ago--- if Ando had ever felt the dire need to bash Takeshi to death with a golf club, it was now. And Mamoru too because stupid clearly travelled in pairs.
“It’s 2°C, and she’s not wearing her coat,” Ami repeated more loudly, turning to Makoto for help, who was still holding Takeshi’s dirty crockery, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. “She’ll catch a cold,” Ami insisted, “hypothermia. It’s November.” She looked at Makoto first, then Umino, and finally Mamoru, but when no one seemed to understand what she was saying, Ami teetered on the spot for a split second before she hurriedly stepped out from behind the counter. Grabbing Minako’s coat as well as her own, she flitted out of the café without looking back.
“You’re a moron,” Ando snarled. “Haven’t learned a thing from the past, now have you?”
Takeshi slowly turned towards him. One of the ceiling lights began to flicker.
“Okay, time to go!” Mamoru insisted, and tugged at Takeshi’s arm. “Now. Let’s go.”
Rei too slid off her bar stool, and walked over to the two men, placing herself right between them.
“I wouldn’t suggest this,” she said softly and looked up at the flickering lamp. “Mamoru, I think you said you wanted to leave?”
Behind her, Ando seethed, ignoring Rei’s attempts at mediation. “Yeah, go, run. Because that will make everything better.”
Umino mimicked Mamoru’s move and reached for Ando’s arm, but Ando shook it off and took a step closer to Takeshi, effectively bumping into Rei.
“Rei, step aside,” the journalist commanded. He’d had it with Takeshi, just as a long, long time ago, he’d had it with Kunzite. Jutting out his chin, Ando was ready for a fight.
Looking at the woman between them, Takeshi’s eyes became cold. “I am hardly the expert on running,” he said in a voice so hard it could cut diamonds. and the light above them became steady again. “I did not see the need to deal with this by developing an alcohol addiction and abandoning my friends.”
Ando blanched, but stood his ground. He’d come to terms with his demons a long time ago. “Yeah, you just abandon Minako. Because that’s so much better. If you want out, at least have the fucking backbone to say so and don’t hide behind other crap.”
Makoto groaned. “Ando, he is not leaving her. And this really isn’t any of your business.”
Like lightning, Ando turned on her. “If Hiro were to move out, what would you--?”
“ENOUGH!” Takeshi roared. All the lights went out for a second, in the café and on the street, and in the momentary darkness, the architect’s hand began to glow and crackle as he trembled. Closing his eyes, he visibly tried to will himself back into calmness, and the lights flickered back to life. “Not one more word, Ando, NOT ONE.”
Opening his eyes, he reached inside his pockets, hands normal and steady again. Nobody said a thing, but behind her husband, Usagi began to cry. Retrieving his car keys, Takeshi pressed them into Mamoru’s hands and left without another word, slamming the door shut so hard that the glass cracked.
***
Many hours later, a tired Ami snuck into her bedroom. She had shed all her clothes in the study and now slipped into the pyjamas Umino had laid out for her on a chair. He was already in bed, holed up underneath a small mountain of blankets.
When she inched closer to the bed in darkness, a corner of the blankets was lifted so that she could crawl underneath. “You’re still awake,” she whispered, more than a little surprised. Snaking a hot arm around her, Umino pulled her close and nodded into her shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without you here.”
She smiled. “That’s silly. You sleep without me all the time.”
“Not after a night like this,” he replied and stroked her hair. Everything was better now that she was here. “How’s Minako?”
“She checked into a hotel.” Ami had tried to convince Minako to at least come to the palace for the night, but all her suggestion had earned was a steady flow of refusal. Minako didn’t want to go home to get toothbrush, didn’t want to sleep in the palace Takeshi wanted to banish her to, and she certainly didn’t want to call him to let him know where she was going. Ami wished that Usagi would have followed Minako too; perhaps then her friend wouldn’t be crying herself to sleep right now while making short work of the mini bar. In situations like this, Ami felt like a failure. Comforting people did not come easy to her, she simply never knew what to say.
“But she has her coat,” Umino murmured against her skin, his voice warm and and approving, and the weight on her shoulders lifted a bit.
“That she does,” Ami agreed and cuddled closer. “How’s Takeshi?”
“Coatless.”
There was something in his voice she hadn’t heard before. Sorting through cadence and diction in her mind, Ami finally arrived at the only possible conclusion. Fear. She frowned. “What happened?”
Umino sighed. There were many answers to her question, and none was particularly pleasant or easy. Burrowing his face in her shoulder, he closed his eyes.
“He showed us exactly why we should have left Kunzite in the past.”
*** End of Chapter Seven***
Onto the next chapter.
Summary: Crystal Tokyo has arrived. So has Ando Tanaka.
Warnings: Oh, lots and lots of swearing. But other than that, tame.
A/N:. Written for venusorbit1’s help_japan donation with plenty of help from Charlie and Spirit.
The previous chapter is 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
***
Eight o'clock in the evening, and across Japan, all eyes were fastened on the television, where the anchorman from J News One was interviewing the two people who had changed the world. On a little platform in front of a screen with the blue J News One logo, three red leather armchairs stood. The one at the right was inhabited by the famous Hayato Ito, Japan’s most famous news anchorman, acting as host for the evening. Dressed in a grey suit with a light blue tie (which matched the channel’s logo perfectly), he - unlike his two guests - looked perfectly at ease.
“Mrs. Chiba, let's get the nasty business out of the way, shall we?” the host asked with his most winning (and startlingly fake) smile. Usagi, dressed in a simple yellow dress, nodded, her pretty face pale and worried. “Of course, ask away.” Minako and Ando had prepared her for the interview, going over likely questions, outlining good answers, teaching her how to evade line of inquiry she was uncomfortable with. However, no part of the week long media crash had prepared herself for Hayato Ito’s first question.
“Are you an alien?”
Usagi blinked at him. Everyone in the studio and in front of the televisions held their breath, waiting for the all important answer to the question, hoping and fearing ----- and then Usagi began to giggle, and the tension broke. “Dear God, no, not at all. Do I look that green and slimy to you?”
“Of course not,” the host hastily assured, and this time, his smile was real.
Beside her, suited up to the nines, Mamoru shared neither his wife’s amusement nor the audience’s relief, and instead clearly took offence with the question. Noticing Mamoru’s sour expression, Ito’s wide smile slid off when he turned to him. “I take it the same applies - or rather does not - to your husband?”
“We're very, very human, Mr. Ito,” Mamoru replied, his voice cutting, and his shoulders tense. His every word, every gesture proclaimed that he’d rather be anywhere but here, while beside him, Usagi, signature hairstyle once more on display, hair magically regrown to its former length, beamed into the camera. “We’re just like everyone else, except for the glittery stuff!” Usagi exclaimed, ponytails bobbing, her hand reaching for her husband’s.
The anchor turned to the camera, dramatically pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. “Well, that's something, isn't it?”
***
In Makoto's café, the few guests still present at this late hour too were watching the news programme, the food on their plates and the drinks in their mugs completely forgotten. Behind the counter, Makoto had her eyes on them rather than the small flat screen bolted to the wall in the corner. If anyone could win the population over, it was Usagi. But the people did not share the anchorman's relief: their gaze was too hostile for that. Makoto sighed, and reached for her phone, sending a quick text to Minako. This better start working soon, or all the exposure and the danger that came with it was for naught.
***
“And I attended the Juuban High School, and my parents still live in the area.” The anchor smiled, clearly wrapped around the finger by Usagi's charm. When he turned to Mamoru, the smile dimmed, and a wariness entered his eyes. This was not good, Ando thought, and stepped closer to the producer, who was watching the interview from behind the cameras. If it was Usagi people responded well to, then they would need to focus on that. They could shove Mamoru down their throats later. “How would you feel about a tour of the palace? The camera crew, Hayato Ito, you, and Mrs. Chiba?”
The producer's face lit up. “When?”
Looking over his shoulder, Ando's eyes met Minako's, who was standing next to one of J News One’s board members. She nodded, and flipped open her phone.
“Tonight,” Ando offered with his best car salesman smile.
***
In a small government building near the financial district, the Crystal Tokyo Citizen Taskforce had its second meeting. Of course, they too were watching the interview. Its chairman, one Takeshi Nakamura, had his eyes fastened on the television, narrowing them when the host turned to Mamoru.
“And you, Mr. Chiba, did you grow up in Tokyo as well?” “I did. As my wife said, this city is our home.” “And do your parents still live here too?” At the question, Mamoru forced a smile, but Takeshi could easily see how false it was. The question was, could everyone else?
“I'm an orphan.”
The host blinked, but quickly found his footing again, affecting an expression of compassion and leaning over to pat Mamoru on the shoulder. “My condolences.” Takeshi made a mental note to praise Mamoru for not punching the man in the face. Talking about the loss of his family on national television was clearly not something Mamoru found easy to deal with.
One of the taskforce members, a small stocky man on his fifth cup of coffee, snorted. “Maybe he's an alien after all. No parents. That's fishy. He could have been dropped here.” Ever since the interview had started, it had been clear that people did not respond well to Mamoru. Usagi they liked, but Mamoru they mistrusted, and even Takeshi, who was not given to expressing emotions openly, could see how Mamoru’s reticence affected the way he came across. However, how the loss of one’s parents was “fishy” and how it translated to Mamoru being “dropped here”, Takeshi could not see.
He arched a brow. “Dropped from where, exactly?”
“Outer space!” the man exclaimed and gestured wildly at the ceiling. “Who knows, he could be from the Moon, or something!”
Turning back to the television, Takeshi pressed his lips into a thin line. “I think he is very much from Earth.”
***
In the palace, Rei just put her phone away. “That was Minako. They will tape a tour of the palace immediately after the interview. The interview will wrap in twenty minutes, then another twenty until they have everything packed. I expect them to be here in about an hour.”
Looking down at himself, Umino sighed. “I don't own a suit.” He was wearing an old pair of corduroy pants, worn soft by use, a blue jumper his grandmother had made for him, and slippers. Comfortable clothes for what he had thought would be an uncomfortable evening in front of the television. Of course, they were not watching the programme on his own TV in his and Ami’s bedroom. He liked Rei Hino, but she did not invite the easy camaraderie he shared with Usagi, Mina, Hiro or Ando. You didn’t hang out on your bed with Rei Hino, eating candy and watching TV.
From her position in Mamoru’s armchair, Rei smiled at him. Since she didn’t have a television, and Ando did not have a couch, she and Umino had decided to watch the interview in Usagi’s and Mamoru’s living room. “You don't need to. The two of us will not appear on the programme.” Mamoru had been adamant that no one who did not necessarily have to would be revealed to be associated with the palace, the crystal, or the Chibas. Hiro and Makoto had agreed with visible relief while Takeshi had done so more grudgingly. Ami, Setsuna, Umino and herself had not had much of an opinion on the matter, and had thus allowed Mamoru to set the rules for the interview. Of course, his control had lasted for exactly five minutes before Minako and Ando took over. Briefly wondering whether the idea for the tour was her friend’s or her boyfriend’s, Rei decided that it hardly mattered. She and Umino would have to disappear for a while.
“So they are saying they live here alone?” Umino asked, toying with the shirt sleeve of his jumper.
Rei nodded. The more she thought about it, the less sense it made to her. Wouldn’t it be better if people thought that non-magical, normal people inhabited the palace without harm too? She would have to speak to Ando and Minako about that, but for now, they needed to get going. She sighed and pushed herself out of the armchair.
Umino got up too, looking around the room. On the coffee table in front of them, four sets of dirty plates and mugs spoke of the early dinner they had shared with Usagi and Mamoru before they left for the studio. Stacking up the plates, and letting each mug dangle from a finger, he frowned. “Then we better see that they find no trace of us.”
***
“And when did you notice that you could... grow wings?”
“Oh, when I was sixteen. But they're not real wings, they're just a part of the outfit.” Usagi shrugged. After so many years as a senshi, she was used to her uniform, to the boots and bows, and even to the wings. Strictly speaking, the wings weren’t a part of the costume, they were fully functional wings, and even allowed her to fly or rather float upwards, but she and the girls had decided not to admit to that. The plan was to make her look as normal and as human as possible.
“Astonishing!” the host exclaimed, and turned backwards to the screen, where the J News One logo had been replaced by a blurry picture of Usagi and Mamoru sealing the volcano away. “They looked so real.”
“I know!”
Closing his eyes, Ando felt the change in direction before the anchorman spoke. If only he could not only read minds, but also transmit messages! Damn.
“But the volcano and the crystal are not part of a costume,” Hayato Ito said, his tone suddenly growing darker. Mamoru cleared his throat, and Usagi blinked. She had not seen this coming. “No, no they're not.”
Leaning closer to Usagi, the host lowered his voice, knowing that the mircophone would still capture every word he said, but that the dramatic effect would be transmitted too. “Don't you think that by attempting to banish one evil, you created another?” On the screen behind them, the picture of her and Mamoru disappeared, and images of the crystal-torn buildings appeared, one after the other. The Museum of Modern Art. Flash. The Muguen Gauken tower. Flash. A small residential street. Flash. A bridge. Flash. And finally, an aerial shot of the palace, and the destruction it had wreaked across the district.
Mamoru crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the host. Behind the camera, Ando frantically shook his head, and Mamoru uncrossed his arms again.
Usagi turned to her husband, willing him to take this question. Having never been able to deny her anything, he cleared his throat.
“If we had not used our... singular ability, then Tokyo would have been wiped out. Completely. Irrevocably. We could not let this happen, but never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences.”
***
Across town, little Aiko sat on the floor right in front of the TV, excitedly jabbing her fingers at it every time Mamoru and Usagi came into view. It was an hour past her bedtime, but her mother had promised her that she could watch five minutes of Auntie Usa on the telly. Already wearing her favourite pink pyjamas and clutching her most beloved stuffed toy to her chest (a slightly ragged looking dog named Sparkles), Aiko knew that the five minutes were up already, but with the slyness of all little children who didn’t want to go to bed, she waited for her father or Aunt Ami to point it out.
On the couch, Hiro sat frozen, and had since the interview started.
“Never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences.”
Beside him, Ami, a sleeping baby Yoshi on her lap, opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. There really weren’t any words.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, LOOK!” Aiko exclaimed, “Uncle Mamo is on telly! Daddy, look!”
”But we are doing everything we can to turn this into something positive. We are working on ways to control the crystal and to turn its growth into something useful.”
Without announcement, Hiro got up, walked over to the television, and switched it off, his whole body brimming with tension. Aiko looked up at him, big brown eyes pleading. “Do I have to go to bed now? Just five more minutes, Daddy, pleeeeeeeaaaase!”
Looking down at his daughter, Hiro felt his heart constrict in his chest. Never did we anticipate that our actions would have these kinds of consequences. Still waiting for his verdict, Aiko reached over and tugged at the leg of his jeans. “Daddy, please?”
Hiro exhaled, and forced a smile on his face. “Want to go play with Bones and Spock?”
Aiko jumped up, dropping her toy on the floor. Full of excitement, she jumped on the spot while still clutching her father’s pants with one hand. Night time play time with the dogs! Could it get any better? A wild thought crossed her head. “Can Bonesy wear the tutu again? Please please please?”
“Of course,” Hiro said gruffly, and picked the little girl up, burying his head in her brown curls as he carried her out into the garden.
***
The interview had moved to the next section more or less seamlessly. When it became clear that neither Usagi nor Mamoru had anything more to say about their own guilt and culpability, and a short clip of a geographer (two doctoral degrees, professorship from an Ivy League university in the States, chair of the geography department at Tokyo University, extensive fieldwork in Indonesia, found and charmed and driven to the studio by one Minako Aino) had been interjected to explain that the volcano under the palace would have indeed wiped out the entire city, and no, there was no working method to have stopped that from happening, the mood became a little friendlier once more. Behind the camera, Ando and Minako exchanged a look: this was getting better, but there was still a long way to go.
“What do you think of the new Crystal Tokyo Citizen Taskforce?”
Usagi broke into a wide smile, almost bouncing in her seat. “It's such a good idea! I'm sure the people there will do a great job!” She beamed directly at the camera, and Minako knew that despite being broadcasted all over the world, her trusting smile was for Takeshi, and Takeshi alone.
The host chuckled. Like most people who met her, he had a hard time not being enamored with Usagi, and when talking to her, his style of questioning was always a little kinder than when he was addressing Mamoru. “Do you share your wife's confidence in the taskforce?”
Mamoru nodded, feeling that the interview was finally moving on safe ground. “Absolutely. We need to work together, and we will offer the taskforce any and every assistance possible.”
Turning directly to the camera, Mamoru said, “if the taskforce would like a tour of the building to familiarise themselves with the crystal, then I would be more than happy to guide them.”
***
“No, it's too dangerous, we can't go in there. He'd kill us in cold blood and seal us away in ice cubes!”
At the invitation, the taskforce had erupted into an instant fight. Half of the group was keen to go in, whereas the other half, the ones who had only signed up to find ways to get rid of the crystal, the palace, and the people they blamed for its existence, point blank refused to set foot anywhere near it. Takeshi, having always disliked loud and spineless people, stood up. Immediately, the room fell silent.
“I propose that the tour is on a voluntary basis only. I for one will go. I do not believe anyone will come to harm, especially not after the Chibas have gone public with this interview. There is too much at risk for them.”
Of course, none of the people in this room had any idea just what was at risk. His best friend and his wife, for one. His godchild. It was the thought of Aiko dying in a battle some ten odd years in the future that had propelled Takeshi into action. As soon as he had left Mamoru in Usagi’s excellent care after learning about the prophecy, he had driven straight to work, handed in his letter of resignation, packed up his office, and begun to focus all his attention on the CTCT.
The only thing he had not expected was that the CTCT would be full of idiots. He needed an ally here, a second voice to support his own. Someone who projected a cool analytical mind, someone with manners and class, someone like---
Setsuna Meioh.
***
As the programme went on a commercial break (advertising slots having been sold for prices normally only attained during World Cups), Minako flitted onto the stage, just as the host exited it to have his make-up retouched. Covering both Mamoru's and Usagi's microphones with one hand each, she bent down. “Usagi, more smiling, and I know this sounds silly, but if at any point, you could start to cry, then that would be really, really great.”
Mamoru whipped around as if someone had set fire to his hair. “Are you joking?”
Checking that nobody could listen in on them, Minako lowered her voice. “Mamoru, this is not going as well as we'd hoped. You need to be more cordial. This is all about getting people to like you two. Usagi is a doozy, but you are not. So try to smile every once in a while, for fuck's sake.”
Just then the anchorman stepped back on. His face looked slightly orange, but Minako knew it would not translate onto the screen. Instead, he'd look healthy, and Usagi and Mamoru would look sickly pale.
“Hey, make-up, those two here need some rouge!” she shouted.
***
Thoughtfully, Umino walked through the palace. Rei hurried on ahead, closing doors, and locking them, his and Ami's rooms, the kitchens (except for one), Rei's garden-level rooms, Ando's tower, and of course, the throne room. All symbols of royalty had to be hidden, buried, forgotten for a long, long time, or they would find themselves hunted with pitchforks. Or, as Michiru's vision suggested, tanks.
Umino trailed behind. He knew he should hurry, they needed to get all doors locked before the camera crew got here, but then again, what was more suspicious than a closed door in an open house? There was a fundamental flaw in their logic: if they just locked the doors, then everyone would want to look inside, revealing that the palace was inhabited by more than two. No, this would not do...
Umino stopped.
“What if I make them go away?” he murmured, and tentatively waved a hand over the double doors leading to the throne room. Back in the Silver Millenium, he too had been able to wield a little magic. Nothing as amazing as Jadeite's mindreading, Nephrite’s star-gazing, or Kunzite's gift to send bursts of what they now knew to be electricity out of his fingertips, but he too had had a particular ability. Finding and hiding, finding and hiding. Everything and everywhere.
He waved his hands once more. To him, the door looked just like it always did: large, royal, and imposing.
“Rei, come here, please,” the philosopher called, and the former priestess came running.
“What do you see?” he asked, frowning. His talent had always been a bit tricky, and he hadn’t used it in well over two-thousand years. There was no telling it still worked, he should have practised---
“Where?” Rei looked around the hallway.
“Here,” he pointed to the doors behind him, a slow giddiness spreading through his stomach.
“Nothing,” Rei responded somewhat impatiently. “Did you lock the throne room?”
“Do you see the throne room?” Umino rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets. She blinked. “It's... it's a little further down the hall, isn't it?” She walked in the direction she'd indicated, but no door was to be found. All there was was smooth crystal, the flames swirling beneath it, pooling wherever she came to stand.
“It should be right here,” she exclaimed and wheeled around, black hair flying around her shoulders, panic in her eyes.
Grinning from ear to ear, Umino waved his hand again, and the door materialised once more. “And it is.”
***
In a black limousine the channel had provided, Ando, Minako, Usagi and Mamoru were heading for the palace. Minako’s phone beeped and she quickly checked it.
“Okay,” she muttered with visible relief, “okay.” Fingers flying over the small screen, she typed a quick answer before showing the original message to Mamoru and Usagi.
From: REI
All traces of us hidden. Umino hid doors to throne room, our rooms, dungeons. Ground floor kitchen open, some cupcakes and batter lying around. Usagi can pretend to have made those. Offer to host, they are from Makoto, will win points. We now leave for Mako’s café, text when tour is done.
Usagi blinked. “What does she mean, Umino--?”
“Shush!” Minako cut across her and handed the phone to Ando. “Not in here.” She gave Usagi a look and subtly pointed at the driver behind the half-lowered glass window separating the driving from the sitting area of the car.
Usagi blushed. “Sorry.”
Mamoru glared at Minako. “It’s okay, Usa,” he said and placed a kiss on his wife’s head.
Meanwhile, Ando had finished reading the text, and typed in a reply of his own.
“What are you writing?” Mina asked and leaned over to peer over his shoulder and onto the phone.
“None of your business.”
“Are you sending her love messages from my phone? Aww, Ando. You two are so cute. Cute and inappropriate. I wouldn’t send this if I were you. I don’t think Rei would appreciate a message from my phone saying I miss her.”
Ando groaned and shoved the phone back in Mina’s hands, instead retrieving his own, from the inner pocket of his navy suit jacket.
“Not the time, Ando,” Mamoru said coldly, earning himself a glare from both the journalist and his wife. Believing in swift punishment, Usagi elbowed her husband in the ribs. “Mamo, be more romantic!”
Ever since Mamoru learned that Ando had told Usagi what he himself had been trying to shield her from, the relationship between the two men had grown rather frosty. What further complicated matters was that Usagi was staunchly on Ando’s side and every time Mamoru’s residual anger flared up, his wife was the first to call him out on it, which of course made Mamoru resent Ando even more. It was a vicious circle that no party seemed to be able to break. Not that either party was trying very hard.
Right now, Ando leaned forward and quickly patted Usagi’s cheek. “You’re my guardian and protector, Usa. The champion of love.” The blonde preened, and Mamoru frowned, swatting at Ando’s hand as if it were a fly. Grinning cheekily, the journalist turned to Minako, who was texting again. “Looks like someone has bested you at your job, Mi.”
Minako looked up for a split second, clearly having missed the entire exchange. “Huh?”
“Nevermind,” Ando said. “Who are you texting now?”
“Mako first, then Takeshi. I want to know what the response to the interview is.”
Loosening his tie, Ando made a face. “I think we can make an educated guess.”
“So I’m a problem, aren’t I?” Mamoru asked with venom. From the moment they had agreed to the interview, it had become clear that this was a game he did not know how to play. He couldn’t charm people like Usagi, Minako and Ando. He was at home in the hospital, where he was capable and respected, where he did his job and made a difference. Fishing for attention and affection was not what he did.
“Your attitude is,” Ando replied evenly and Mamoru’s jaw clenched.
“Boys, not in here,” Minako pointed out, her fingers still flying over her phone. Mako had already texted back, confirming her fears. Hastily finishing her message to Takeshi, she looked out of the window. The city was flying past them, and the more and more crystals adorned the landscape, the closer to the palace they were getting. “Nearly there,” Minako murmured. “Mamoru, when we arrive, it would be good if you could... go into your study, or something.”
Mamoru frowned. “I don’t have a study.”
“Yes, you do,” Minako said slowly. “West wing, second floor. Lots of medical books.”
Mamoru blinked, and then it clicked. They had moved Ami’s books and desk into one of the empty rooms. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”
“Is it?” Minako asked, and the image of Aiko playing with her parents, and of Usagi and Mamoru holding a laughing Chibi-Usa flashed in her mind. Ando closed his eyes. He hadn’t been able to shield himself from the thoughts of his friends lately. It must be the stress, the lack of sleep, the direness of their situation; everything accelerated his ability and he had yet to find out how to rein it back in. Unbidden, he did not receive little thoughts, trivial ones, but every time someone around him thought of the prophecy, it resonated in his mind like a power drill.
“We’re there,” the driver announced, and the car came to a stop in front of the palace.
***
Even though the café had officially closed at nine, there was still light on inside, and the bell at the door announced yet another visitor. Behind the counter, Makoto looked up, relief flooding her face when it was Takeshi she saw walking up to her.
“How did it go?” she asked, stepping out behind the counter to give him a brief hug.
“Good evening,” he said politely and hugged her back before taking off his trench. “Not very good, I’m afraid. Predictably, everyone responded well to Usagi and that geographer, but Mamoru is a different matter.”
“Same here,” Makoto admitted, and went to fix Takeshi some coffee. “Perhaps this palace tour tonight will help, and then if the CTCT goes on another one, and comes up with some positive angles, we might be getting somewhere.”
“I have called Setsuna. The CTCT will hire her too.”
“That’s good.”
Takeshi sat down on a barstool and folded his hands on the counter. “How’s Hiro?” he asked, not meeting Makoto’s eyes.
She sighed. “Not leaving Aiko’s side. Yesterday, he sat on the bench across from her kindergarten all day. Ami’s with him tonight.” Makoto had needed a break. It was bad enough that their daughter was at risk, but she couldn’t cope with Hiro and his barely suppressed rage. Her husband’s attitude to the palace had never been good to begin with, but since a visibly disturbed Takeshi had knocked on their door with the news of the prophecy, Hiro had barely held it together. At first, he had insisted that they pack up and leave Tokyo, moving to some remote place far away from the city. Then he had wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to leave the country altogether, even beginning to quiz Ando on possible locales. It was about that time that Makoto had put her foot down. She wouldn’t leave Usagi, and when the first real signs of the revolution against the palace appeared, they would send Aiko away, but not sooner. They had a life here, they had friends here, and, as she reminded him gravely, they had a duty too, and she for one wasn’t willing to walk away from it.
The fight that followed was the severest one they had in their sixteen year relationship. When the atmosphere in their house became so toxic that Aiko asked them whether Mommy and Daddy would stop fighting if she promised be to a good girl and tidy up her room more often, Hiro had taken both kids and dogs to his parents. He hadn’t said when he would be back, and Makoto had done her best to appear upbeat in front of the children, waving while the car that held her whole world had rolled out of the driveway.
In the suddenly silent house, stuffed full of reminders of the people who were getting further and further away from her, Makoto had choked up and called Takeshi. He had come over and picked her up immediately. For the next three days, he had taken care of her, putting food in front of her that she barely touched, offering to play chess with her in the evenings while she silently stared at the walls, and even held her hand when she made the nightly call to Aiko.
On the fourth day, it was Minako who brought her breakfast (badly burned scrambled eggs), and Takeshi was nowhere to be found. He returned late in the evening, a sleeping Aiko in his arms, and Hiro with the baby carrier and Yoshi in it right behind him. Makoto hadn’t asked what Takeshi had said to make Hiro come back, and Takeshi hadn’t volunteered the information.
In the two weeks since her husband’s return, they had tried to mend their fences, but Makoto knew that she could not be around Hiro when the interview aired and had thus volunteered to gauge audience reactions in her café while Hiro watched the children. Not wanting him to be alone, she had asked Ami to sit with him. She was one of the few people whom he could still stand to have around him. Ando, Minako, and even Umino had been banned from visiting, and Mamoru didn’t dare to.
“I’m sure he will find Ami’s company helpful,” Takeshi offered, and accepted his coffee with a nod. “Thank you.”
Not bothering to ask, Makoto put a sandwich on a plate and placed it in front of Takeshi. “Rei and Umino are on their way here. Did you know that Umino can hide things?”
Takeshi frowned. “I’m not following.”
“He has an ability. He can change... the look of things. Create an illusion, make it seem as if something isn’t there.”
“Oh,” he said, a memory slowly swimming to the surface. He did not remember everything of his past life, and neither did the others. He mainly recalled the bond they had shared with Endymion, and the battle and the bloodshed their treason had caused. A few memories of Venus, and fights between him and... almost everyone. Kunzite had been a lonely man, an outsider, more feared than respected.
“A very useful talent these days,” he eventually said, and took a bite of the sandwich Makoto had given him. He hadn’t eaten all day, the looming interview taking his appetite away completely.
“He hid the rooms they didn’t want the camera crew to see,” Makoto said, resting against the counter.
“That’s good. I hope they remembered the dungeons.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure they did. Now, brownie?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “No, thanks. The sandwich is plenty.”
“Fine, a banana then.” She reached over and plucked a banana from an overflowing fruit bowl next to the till. She always had an assortment of fresh fruit ready, using it for smoothies and cakes. Or, as was the case now, for putting meat on a friend’s bones.
“So it’s either a brownie or a banana?” Takeshi’s eyes crinkled at the corner.
“Yup.”
“In that case, the brownie please.”
Grinning, Makoto handed him an extra large piece on a bright yellow napkin.
***
“That went well,” Ando said, and Minako, head resting on his shoulder, nodded. The two of them were sitting on the floor, leaning against the crystal walls, their feet outstretched. Minako had kicked off her heels, and Ando had ripped the tie off the second the camera crew exited the premises. He felt like his father wearing it.
Reaching over and plucking the cigarette from his hands, she took a deep drag. “I’d kill for an end of the work day cocktail.”
“I thought you don’t drink unless it’s New Year’s.”
“Oh, I’m making exceptions these days. And the new year is still almost two months away.”
“Mamoru hates you,” Ando continued non-sequitur, lighting up another cigarette for himself.
“No, Mamoru hates you,” Minako replied and peered up at him just as he looked down. Their eyes met, and the two burst into laughter.
“His face when you told Usa to cry!” Ando managed to get out between laughs. “I thought he was going to punch you!”
Holding her stomach, Minako giggled. “And when you shoved him into the study! I thought he was going to have a coronary!”
Across from them, a door opened and Usagi’s head peeked out. “What’s so funny?”
Trying to regain enough breath to speak, Minako inhaled. “Your husband’s sunny demeanour.”
Ando promptly burst into another fit of laughter, sliding down the wall until he was lying on the floor, fists hammering against the crystal. “Su- suhhhhunnny demeanour.”
Grinning, Usagi stepped outside and sat down on the floor too. “He was a bit tense.”
Slipping on her best poker face, Minako nodded. “Just a bit.”
Swatting at her friend, Usagi shook her head. “Don’t tease him so much. Are we going to Mako’s now? Umino and Rei are already there.” At the mention of Rei’s name, Ando stopped laughing and propped himself up on his elbows. “Let’s go then.”
“Look at you, excited like a puppy,” Mina said, and pushed herself up, her mini skirt riding up a few inches with the movement. “Oi, watch your skirt, ma’am. I don’t need to see your knickers. Your fiancé has enough reasons to hate me already.”
Bending down, Mina pulled his ear. “Shut up and look away.”
“Is that what you say to him in bed?”
Usagi giggled. “Ando, you’re so cheeky!” Outstretching her hands, she helped him up and brushed some ash off his jacket. “Let me go get Mamo, and then we can leave.” With an excited grin, Usagi disappeared behind the door again, calling for her husband.
“Oh yay,” Ando replied and looked at Minako, who shrugged and pulled her skirt down. “You didn’t expect her to go without him, did you?”
***
Despite the evening turning into night, the café was getting more and more busy, its lit windows warm and inviting, the smell of another batch of brownies being pulled from the oven wafting in the cool November air, and the coffee machine still whizzing.
Ami too had found her way here, feeling desperate for company. Hiro had stayed with the children, both of whom were asleep now. Ami had offered to stay until Makoto got back, but Hiro had given her a tired hug and sent her on her way. Joining her friends, and Umino in particular, at the café had been a relief. The mood here was infinitely better, the day being seen as more of a success than a failure. By the time the party from the palace arrived, everyone was already huddled together at the counter, chatting away. Only Rei looked up when the little brass bell tinkled and announced the arrival of the rest of their group. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ando, saying a silent hello. He reciprocated in kind, before loudly greeting the rest.
“We have King Arthur’s round table, and yet we meet here. Says something about the quality of your brownies, Mako,” Ando loftily said while guiding Usagi, Minako and Mamoru inside. “Speaking of which, can I get one?”
Makoto crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Brownies are for those who earned them, Ando,” she replied and gestured at Umino, Ami, Takeshi, and even Rei, who were tucking in and sipping coffee.
Usagi squeed. “I did good, I deserve brownies!” She hurried to the counter, her heels making rapid click-clack noises on terracotta floors. Wedging herself between Takeshi on a barstool and Umino leaning against the counter beside him, making just about enough use of her elbows to get there, she greedily fished for the platter that Makoto had just out of reach behind the counter. Both men shifted a bit so that the tiny blonde would have a place between them.
“Usagi!” Rei exclaimed, sounding scandalised, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
“Here, you can have mine,” Takeshi offered immediately, pushing his plate to Usagi, but Makoto shook her head. “No way. Eat up. Usagi gets her own.” Picking a plate, Makoto loaded not one, but two pieces of brownie onto it and reached for some vanilla sauce. “You really did do good, Usa. Everyone was half in love with you by the time the interview wrapped.”
Still standing close to the door, Minako and Ando looked at each other.
“Don’t I feel loved,” Minako murmured to Ando and took off her coat. “I guess we’re the bad ones today.”
Ando snorted. “What do you mean, ‘today’?” He tugged at Minako’s long, straight ponytail. “No pity party. We’re here for the cake.” This made Minako laugh, and together, the two made their way to the counter. Just as they approached, Takeshi turned around, his green eyes taking in the image of the two friends advancing together.
Noticing Takeshi’s attention, Ando let go of Mina’s hair and placed at a hand at the small of her back, steering her in Takeshi’s direction. “Play nice,” he whispered into her ear, before walking over to where Rei was sitting. He wrapped his arms round her waist from behind without further ado. She blushed a little, and jabbed at her piece of brownie with her fork. “Want some?” she asked and held up the fork for him to bite. Grinning, Ando leaned over her shoulder. “Yummy,” he said with a full mouth, and then went on to kiss Rei on the cheek. “Ando, not with your mouth full,” Rei admonished, and wiped non-existent crumbs off her cheek.
With her plate and the two pieces of hard-earned baked goods on them, Usagi left her spot between Takeshi and Umino to Mamoru, who was standing in the middle of the room like a piece of lost luggage.
“Here, we can share,” Usagi said and pressed the plate in Mamoru’s hands. He smiled.
“I’m not sure I’ve deserved brownie today, Usa. I didn’t do as well you.”
Usagi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but you can stitch people back together and I faint when I cut my pinkie slicing onions. You have earned the brownie ten times over.” Setting the plate down on the next table, Mamoru hugged Usagi.“Thank you,” he murmured in her ear, and Usagi giggled. “Your breath tickles. Let’s go eat.”
Meanwhile, Minako had moved into the spot Usagi had vacated, feeling hyper alert of Takeshi’s eyes on her. Because it was easier, and because he had done something absolutely remarkable, she addressed Umino first. “Quite the number you did there. Now that all those doors are gone, I barely found the way to Usagi’s and Mamoru’s rooms. It looks completely different.”
Umino beamed, clearly proud of himself. “They’re not gone, just hidden. I’ll make them reappear when we get back.”
“Tell her the rest,” Takeshi added, and Minako turned to him. “What rest?”
It was Ami who answered. She was standing on the other side of the counter, helping Makoto pass out food and refill plates. The young doctor was beaming. “You know how no one can see when we enter and leave the palace, even if there are plenty people watching?”
“Yes. I thought it was the Silver Crystal.”
Giddily, Umino shook his head. “It is, and it isn’t. It’s the Silver Crystal in the sense that it broadcasts and accelerates my ability.”
“So you are keeping us all hidden?” Minako asked, her jaw dropping.
“I am.”
“And you didn’t even know you were doing it?”
“Nope.”
“Wow!”
She turned back to Takeshi. “Wow,” she said again, and he smiled and nodded, looking down at his now empty plate.
“Next thing we find out,” Ando cheerily exclaimed, lifting his coffee mug in mock salute, “is that Umino is also the unwitting mastermind behind all the plumbing!” The room erupted in laughter, even Mamoru and Rei chiming in. Only Takeshi remained silent, but he did smile, which Minako took as a good sign. While the rest continued a loud and raucous joke about the protection charm and its possible effect on the toilets, Minako finally felt brave enough to talk to her fiancé.
“And how was your day?” she asked, her voice lowered.
She wanted to touch him, put a hand on his arm, or on his leg, or hug him on his barstool the way Ando was hugging Rei, but things hadn’t been good between them in the past weeks. He couldn’t seem to forgive her for not telling him about the Outers’ warning and ever since they learned about Aiko and Nemesis and Takeshi’s (or rather Kunzite’s, even though Minako thought this was splitting hairs) attempt to negotiate a treaty with Wiseman, he had taken to sleeping in the guest room.
During the time Makoto had stayed at their house, he slept in their bed for appearance’s sake, but as soon as the baker had gone home with her children and husband, Takeshi had moved into the guest room for good, even putting a few of his suits into the closet there. She barely saw him these days. Takeshi had always been a workaholic, but before Crystal Tokyo came around and had taken a giant dump on her relationship, he had always set time aside for her. Now she was lucky if she saw him when he got home in the middle of the night. If he wasn’t working at the CTCT, he was chauffeuring Mamoru around. If he wasn’t doing that, he was visiting Hiro and his goddaughter. And if he wasn’t with the Obuchis, then he took Attila for slow walks at odd hours. She had thought it was bad when he had holed himself up in his study all night; she’d been wrong. In comparison, that had been a piece of cake because at least he had still come up to their bedroom, falling asleep with her in arms.
Standing next to him in Makoto’s café, with most of their friends around them, was the closest they’d been all week. Feeling desperate and - after the success of the palace tour - perhaps a bit more daring, she took a small step to the side, so that her side was lightly pressed against his. He cleared his throat. “It could have been better.”
“How many will accompany you on the palace outing?”
“Not many. They are too afraid. But Setsuna will join us.”
Surprised, Mina tilted her head, trying to get him to meet her eyes. “Setsuna?”
“She’s joining the taskforce.”
“Oh, that’s… good,” Minako murmured. She wished Setsuna would have asked her first. Or Takeshi would have. But like this, she felt oddly side-lined and suddenly began to understand why Takeshi took issue with her going directly to Ando all the time. Being excluded didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel good at all.
“I’ve been thinking,” Takeshi said softly, and finally looked up.
“What about?” There was something in his eyes that made her worry, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“Once the taskforce truly begins to work, which also means to interact with the press, you and I can’t be seen together. It would give the whole ploy away.” Steadying herself against the counter, Minako’s heart began to beat faster. “Uh-huh.”
“I think you should move into the palace.”
Trying to sound as if her heart wasn’t breaking, she cleared her throat. “And you?”
“I rent a flat.”
“What about our house?”
He didn’t answer.
“What about Attila?”
“I take Attila.”
“And we see each other when?”
He reached over, stroking her cheek. “I’ll sneak into the palace every once in a while.”
“Every once in a while,” she repeated numbly and stepped back, bumping into Umino.
“Careful there,” he said and reached out to steady Minako, eyes still crinkling from the joy of the day’s success and from the last of Ando’s three dirty jokes. “Sorry,” Minako said, forcing a smile on her face. “Actually, I’m feeling kind of tired, I think I’ll go home. Long day.”
Behind her, Takeshi reached for her hand. She put it in the pockets of her blazer instead.
“Do you want me to drive you?” Takeshi asked, but Minako shook her head. She couldn’t stand to be in the car with him now. In fact, she couldn’t be in a car period because she was feeling as if she was about to throw up any minute now. She really needed to get out of here. “No, it’s fine. I’ll walk.”
“In those shoes?” Makoto asked, having begun to follow the exchange.
“I fight in these shoes, I can walk home in these shoes. Night everyone,” Minako said, backing away from the counter. “Usa, I’ll come by tomorrow morning for breakfast.” With another smile, this time more brittle around the edges, Minako turned around and quickly departed, the little brass bell now ringing in the total silence of the café. Ami watched her leave, blinking. “She forgot her coat.”
Not wasting a second, Ando let go of Rei and walked over to Takesh, face like thunder. “What the fuck was that?”
“None of your business, Ando,” Takeshi replied, and put his empty coffee mug on the plate and then handed both over to Makoto, who too was still staring at the door her friend had just exited through.
“Okay, I know robots don’t speak girl, so let me translate for you. You basically just told your fiancée that you want her out of the house. When engaged people move away from each other, that normally means they’re breaking up.”
“Minako knows it’s not like that.”
“Does she? And isn’t it? Looked kind of different from two seats over.”
By now everyone was listening to Ando’s and Takeshi’s argument and Mamoru chose to interject. Putting a hand on Takeshi’s shoulder, he gave Ando a long look. “Takeshi, would you mind giving Usa and me a ride back to the palace? We came on foot, and I don’t feel like walking back.”
“Of course,” Takeshi answered and got up.
“Oh, so you are on board with this?” Ando asked, feeling his blood boil. Moving away from his fiancée and sending her out of their house and taking the dog she had rescued all those years ago--- if Ando had ever felt the dire need to bash Takeshi to death with a golf club, it was now. And Mamoru too because stupid clearly travelled in pairs.
“It’s 2°C, and she’s not wearing her coat,” Ami repeated more loudly, turning to Makoto for help, who was still holding Takeshi’s dirty crockery, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. “She’ll catch a cold,” Ami insisted, “hypothermia. It’s November.” She looked at Makoto first, then Umino, and finally Mamoru, but when no one seemed to understand what she was saying, Ami teetered on the spot for a split second before she hurriedly stepped out from behind the counter. Grabbing Minako’s coat as well as her own, she flitted out of the café without looking back.
“You’re a moron,” Ando snarled. “Haven’t learned a thing from the past, now have you?”
Takeshi slowly turned towards him. One of the ceiling lights began to flicker.
“Okay, time to go!” Mamoru insisted, and tugged at Takeshi’s arm. “Now. Let’s go.”
Rei too slid off her bar stool, and walked over to the two men, placing herself right between them.
“I wouldn’t suggest this,” she said softly and looked up at the flickering lamp. “Mamoru, I think you said you wanted to leave?”
Behind her, Ando seethed, ignoring Rei’s attempts at mediation. “Yeah, go, run. Because that will make everything better.”
Umino mimicked Mamoru’s move and reached for Ando’s arm, but Ando shook it off and took a step closer to Takeshi, effectively bumping into Rei.
“Rei, step aside,” the journalist commanded. He’d had it with Takeshi, just as a long, long time ago, he’d had it with Kunzite. Jutting out his chin, Ando was ready for a fight.
Looking at the woman between them, Takeshi’s eyes became cold. “I am hardly the expert on running,” he said in a voice so hard it could cut diamonds. and the light above them became steady again. “I did not see the need to deal with this by developing an alcohol addiction and abandoning my friends.”
Ando blanched, but stood his ground. He’d come to terms with his demons a long time ago. “Yeah, you just abandon Minako. Because that’s so much better. If you want out, at least have the fucking backbone to say so and don’t hide behind other crap.”
Makoto groaned. “Ando, he is not leaving her. And this really isn’t any of your business.”
Like lightning, Ando turned on her. “If Hiro were to move out, what would you--?”
“ENOUGH!” Takeshi roared. All the lights went out for a second, in the café and on the street, and in the momentary darkness, the architect’s hand began to glow and crackle as he trembled. Closing his eyes, he visibly tried to will himself back into calmness, and the lights flickered back to life. “Not one more word, Ando, NOT ONE.”
Opening his eyes, he reached inside his pockets, hands normal and steady again. Nobody said a thing, but behind her husband, Usagi began to cry. Retrieving his car keys, Takeshi pressed them into Mamoru’s hands and left without another word, slamming the door shut so hard that the glass cracked.
***
Many hours later, a tired Ami snuck into her bedroom. She had shed all her clothes in the study and now slipped into the pyjamas Umino had laid out for her on a chair. He was already in bed, holed up underneath a small mountain of blankets.
When she inched closer to the bed in darkness, a corner of the blankets was lifted so that she could crawl underneath. “You’re still awake,” she whispered, more than a little surprised. Snaking a hot arm around her, Umino pulled her close and nodded into her shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without you here.”
She smiled. “That’s silly. You sleep without me all the time.”
“Not after a night like this,” he replied and stroked her hair. Everything was better now that she was here. “How’s Minako?”
“She checked into a hotel.” Ami had tried to convince Minako to at least come to the palace for the night, but all her suggestion had earned was a steady flow of refusal. Minako didn’t want to go home to get toothbrush, didn’t want to sleep in the palace Takeshi wanted to banish her to, and she certainly didn’t want to call him to let him know where she was going. Ami wished that Usagi would have followed Minako too; perhaps then her friend wouldn’t be crying herself to sleep right now while making short work of the mini bar. In situations like this, Ami felt like a failure. Comforting people did not come easy to her, she simply never knew what to say.
“But she has her coat,” Umino murmured against her skin, his voice warm and and approving, and the weight on her shoulders lifted a bit.
“That she does,” Ami agreed and cuddled closer. “How’s Takeshi?”
“Coatless.”
There was something in his voice she hadn’t heard before. Sorting through cadence and diction in her mind, Ami finally arrived at the only possible conclusion. Fear. She frowned. “What happened?”
Umino sighed. There were many answers to her question, and none was particularly pleasant or easy. Burrowing his face in her shoulder, he closed his eyes.
“He showed us exactly why we should have left Kunzite in the past.”
*** End of Chapter Seven***
Onto the next chapter.