Author: Abigail aka Moonchild aka Drive Me Mercury
Email: abigail@makenai.org
Rating: PG-13 (subject to go up or down)
Chapter started: 2-10-03 Chapter ended: 2-16-03
Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and all characters and settings belong to
the one-and-only Naoko Takeuchi. All created characters and plots within this
story are my own.
Here’s a Materials
Collection-style character sketch of Miya, with
my conception of what she looks like and some basic stats:
http://www.makenai.org/makenai/fanart/mine/miyachan.jpg
^_^
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*Chapter 2*
-Of Rabbits and Blood
Types-
Setsuna nearly dropped the
folders in her hand at the young girl’s question, but managed to quickly
recover. “Miya-chan, your father passed away when you were small, and your
mother lives with you in the palace residences,” she answered matter-of-factly.
Miya frowned again and
stood up, gathering George in her arms. She didn’t look at Setsuna but petted
the rabbit absently.
“My dad was an A
blood-type and my mom is an AB-type.”
“T-that’s nice…” Setsuna
said after a moment, not sure what caused this sudden apparent change in
subject and a little thrown off-guard.
“I’m an O-TYPE!! A and AB
people can’t have O-type babies, it’s impossible!”
The guardian of Time did
her best to conceal every emotion or expression that might give away anything
she knew. She had known this day would have to come. Even if she was prepared
for the most part, she knew certain other people were not.
“Now, who told you that?”
The nine-year-old wasn’t
about to be patronized. “Alexiel did,” she said, referring to one of the
teenage staff children who also resided in the palace annex. “Setsuna-san, I’ve
known since I was FIVE that I was adopted! I know she’s not my REAL mom. I asked
her, and she said she doesn’t know who they are, but I know she’s lying!”
Setsuna sighed and perched
on the edge of the chair. She knew this all too well, but at five years old no
one had thought the young Miya comprehended anything – she had even insisted
that Makiko was her one and only mother whom she loved so of course Makiko had
given birth to her ‘daughter’. No one had ventured to explain things then, or
even give the slightest details surrounding the adoption. Miya had never
mentioned it since then, and even Setsuna assumed the child had forgotten.
“Your mother isn’t lying,” she spoke gently. “She doesn’t know. But, Miya-chan,
you already have a parent who loves you very much and cares for you more than
anything in the world.”
Miya hung her head. “I
love Mom, but… I just want to know about where I came from.” It was true. There
were so many things about herself she didn’t understand, and growing older, she
only realized it more and more. Not just growing pains, but other things that
normal children didn’t have. Maybe others didn’t see it, but Miya knew… she was
–different-. And somehow, she thought,
if she could find out who she was, she would understand why. She didn’t say all
this aloud, but she trusted Setsuna more than anyone to be able to explain it
all.
“I understand.” She
reached out and brushed aside the girl’s bangs, then stood up. “But there’s
nothing I can tell you either.”
The pigtailed head snapped
upwards. “But- ”
“Now I need to take these
to the Queen’s office.”
“But, Setsuna-san, why
won’t you tell me? I know you know –something-!!”
“What makes you think
that?”
“Because you know –everything-!”
Setsuna almost chuckled
wryly at this last outburst. ‘Not quite, dear. If I knew everything, I’d
understand much more about why things happen in the way they do, why some
people act in the way that they do…’
“Run home,” she instructed
the girl. Miya simply gave her a pouting glare and didn’t move from where she
stood. Setsuna turned and walked away down the hall.
It wasn’t long before she
heard the tapping of feet running the other direction.
Not now. Not yet. She had
hoped the girl wouldn’t bring up any questions until she was older, and she’d
been fortunate until now. The truth was, Miya’s questions were long overdue. It
was only natural for her to want to know her identity. But if her birth mother
wasn’t ready to approach her yet, it wasn’t Setsuna’s place to give the child
the whole truth. As much as she had wanted to reveal at least a part of the
past, she couldn’t respond to Miya’s inquiries. Besides, she feared the shock
of everything would be too much for the young girl. Whether she ever learned
the entire truth, or only a piece of it, was up to her mother.
But from this conversation
she could see, things were already starting to stir in the girl’s heart. And
Setsuna had a feeling Miya would not be easily pacified with vague stories.
Eventually, she would
know. And even by Setsuna’s predictions, there was no telling what the impact
would be – on both mother and child, and even persons beyond.
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Miya plopped herself onto
the carpeted floor of her bedroom with a huff, tugging at a braided pigtail out
of habit. George hopped away from her and went off to lazily explore the room.
She wouldn’t cry. Babies
cry. She wasn’t a baby. She’d get the truth out of Setsuna no matter how long
it took. She grabbed a pillow to squeeze all her anger and emotion out into the
polyester.
A noise startled her, and
she looked up just in time to see that George had gotten himself too close to a
dangerously unstable pile of books and homework that came tumbling down. With a
cry she jumped up to pull the books away and unearth the round ball of white
fluff. He appeared to be unhurt, and making soothing sounds, she gently picked
him up. The animal’s red eyes were still wide from the sudden shock of having
big heavy rectangular things fall out of the sky, and his small limbs trembled.
Miya curled herself in the
soft red blanket that was wrinkled on her bedroom floor. She bent her upper
body and pulled her knees toward her chin to form a sheltered nest for the
rabbit that sat with his soft body brushing against her stomach.
“Shhh… it’s okay,” she
soothed, running her hand over the silky white fur. “You’re scared, I can feel
it. Don’t worry. No need to be frightened anymore…” There was no one else in
the room to see the pink glow that surrounded the rabbit and the hand that
caressed its fur, but even if someone had been, they would have dismissed it as
a trick of the eye, so faint was it. “There you go…” she continued to speak
softly as she felt the animal relax. “Why are you sad, George? Are you lonely
like me?” Softly she began to sing the lines of a lullaby that she had know
since before she could remember.
Take a shooting star
And hide it in your pocket
And keep it close beside your heart until we meet again
I’ll take a shooting star
And softly wish upon it…
She stopped abruptly. She
could never remember the last lines of the song. They were always there, on the
tip of her memory, but they never came. Right now, however, there was no need.
George had fallen asleep.
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The blur of a video
rewinding in fast backward motion filled the large security screen. A long
slender finger hit a button on the panel below and the video jumped into real
time. On the film recorded this morning somewhere in one of the palace’s many
wide halls, a black-haired child ambled on her hands and knees, following a
white rabbit that hopped a curious zigzag path down the carpet. With several
more touches of buttons the screen zoomed in closer to the child’s face –
laughing blue eyes unaware that they were being watched.
“You’re truly predictable,
you know.”
With the movement of a startled
hand the screen went black.
“No one could tell me
where you were, so I came here.”
“Setsuna-san.”
“When will you stop
watching her from the shadows, and start speaking face to face?”
The seated figure looked
away. “It’s not the time yet.”
“She’s asking questions.
She wants to know about her past. I don’t think she should know everything, but
you might at least talk to her. She’s old enough now to understand such
things.”
“I know,” The other woman
turned to gaze at her old friend. “Yet…why the change in tone, Setsuna-san? You
once told me some parts of the past are best left forever buried.”
It was the dark-haired
woman’s turn to lower her head. “I only ask that you consider what’s best for
the child.”
The seated woman gazed at
the folded hands in her lap. Her thoughts appeared to be somewhere far away. At
length, she spoke. “I meant to wait until she was older. But I shall tell her
when I’m ready. I shall talk to her soon.”
“Somehow you don’t
convince me.”
“I shall this time… I
promise.”