Chapter Text
“Training at the beach makes it feel like we’re at summer camp!” Fuji Kiseki said with a sparkle in her eyes, a gentle smile adorning her features. “The wind feels so nice and cool!” Her voice was calm, genuine ease evident in her tone.
Her trainer, Moonlight Requiem, had chosen this beautiful Kanto beach as a way to ease their trainee’s worries about the stage she was soon to step onto. They knew she was anxious. It is only natural to be when faced with dreams as large as hers.
Moonlight had spent close to an hour researching scenic locations around the area trying to find the perfect place. That’s when they came across the little beach the two of them stood on. It was decently sized, perfect for what they needed, and was said to be especially breathtaking right around sunset. They’d be the judge of that soon enough.
“Be right back! I’m going to do a quick lap!” she said, legs already taking her away.
“Meet me here when you’re done!” Moonlight shouted, hoping it had reached the taller woman’s ears. Not like they minded if she didn’t hear them. They both had a knack for finding their way back to one another. In the meantime, they could prepare the surprise they had for Fuji, a last “trick” up their sleeve.
‘I’m going to make this work or die trying’
Moonlight Echoes was not particularly gifted at magic. In fact, their natural clumsiness made it so their magician potential was severely hindered. That didn’t stop Moonlight from trying. They may not have the most fluid of movements and their sleight of hand could definitely use some polishing, but they’d spent all night practicing a simple trick just to put Fuji’s mind at ease.
‘Hopefully that makes her smile,” they thought to themselves, “I bet she’ll be so-surprised.”
After Fuji’s return to the exact spot Moonlight had requested, training proceeded as usual. They ran through multiple drills of varying difficulty, using the soft sand under Fuji’s shoes to their advantage and strengthening her stride.
The weather was fairly warm for a mid-March afternoon. A steady stream of coastal wind blew, its whistle barely audible unless they stood still. Not many people were around, it was a weekday after all, and Moonlight could not be more grateful. Training while crowds of fans squealed and shouted had definitely worn their patience thin as of recently. Moonlight was grateful for the change of pace.
They couldn’t stand for too long, their left leg trembling every time they tried to do so. They instead sat on a beach chair, eyes glued to Fuji Kiseki, carefully examining her every move. Had she always looked so mesmerizing when she ran, eyes focused, and hair flowing in the wind?
Hours of rigorous training pass and sunset arrives. It’s even more breathtaking than Moonlight could have anticipated. To say that it looked straight out of a fantasy would be putting it lightly. The sky, previously a soft blue, had turned into a multicolored masterpiece of piercing reds, vibrant oranges, and bright yellows that blended into the deep purple of dusk. If this view were music, then its melody would be sweet yet rich, a perfect finale to mark the end of another day. It was perfect, just as Moonlight had anticipated.
They turned to their trainee, and the view that met them was even more enthralling. The warm tones of the sunlight illuminated Fuji Kiseki’s face at just the right angle accentuating her beauty. Turquoise pools shimmered as the scene reflected in her eyes. Her skin was slightly flushed, the afternoon’s training evident on her cheeks. Tiny sweat droplets, barely visible, caught the sun rays making it appear as if Fuji herself was glowing, her face dusted with small freckles of light. Her short jet-black hair was ever so lightly tousled from the earlier winds, her tracksuit littered with dust and sand tying the look all together. She was there, standing beside them, radiant and real. She was so alive.
“The ocean looks like molten gold,” Fuji beamed. She was utterly mesmerized by the view. “I had no idea a sunset could look so beautiful.”
‘And yet you still surpass that,’ Moonlight Requiem would never say that out loud, but no one was there to stop them from thinking it.
“Just the sight of it makes me feel reinvigorated, body and soul,” her words broke them from their trance.
Right. The plan. They can’t forget the most important part in making Fuji forget all her woes.
“Behold, a star befitting of your grace!” Moonlight’s words were shaky as they were spoken, the nerves from the surprise threatening to get the better of them. They pointed upwards towards the first star of the evening, currently dim, but soon to become the brightest in the night sky.
Their arm was trembling as they ran through the motions they had carefully practiced the night before. They reached out onto the evening sky with a grand gesture, hoping the extravagant movements were enough to conceal their anxiety. They moved as if they were plucking the star from its place, using the momentum to slide a small but ornate star-shaped brooch onto the palm of their hand.
“I shall whisk it from its perch as a gift to y-“
Unfortunately for the young trainer, their palms, much like the rest of them, were sweating bullets making the brooch slide out from their hand onto the sand beneath them.
“Oops…” they said in defeat, ears pinned down and tail hanging still as their trick was ruined at the last second.
Quickly, they picked up the now sand-covered brooch, heat rising to their cheeks in embarrassment. They couldn’t dare look Fuji in the eye after that disastrous spectacle. They’d practiced for so long and all they had to show for it was a fumbled attempt at a surprise.
They stared at their own feet, noticing the tremors on their left leg threatening to act up given they had been standing for their failed magic trick. Their cane sure was doing a whole lot of heavy lifting keeping that leg at bay. As they stared down, they couldn’t help but feel disappointed. They wanted it to be perfect, as perfect as any of Fuji’s tricks. They hoped to return some of that magic that she gave to the world.
Their frustrations were soothed just as quickly as they began when a bright voice interrupted their train of thought.
“You surprised me…” Fuji said, the mild shock audible in her voice.
Moonlight lifted head just enough to see the taller woman’s expression through their thick black bangs. She was definitely surprised, but within her wide eyes and slightly agape mouth was a small hint of…amusement?
“I’m sorry about that!” Moonlight replied automatically, unsure of what to say when faced with a look like that.
To their greater surprise, Fuji laughed. Not a mocking laugh, but a kind one, rich with joy.
“Silly…what are you apologizing for?” Moonlight must’ve made a rather funny face in their confusion as another laugh, slightly louder, came from Fuji. “That was so thoughtful!” She paused for a moment, her eyes softening with a look that could only be described as tender and loving, “I had no idea you had so much planned for me.”
Fuji stepped closer to her trainer, whose eyes were still not fully meeting her own. She took the brooch from their palm holding it in one hand while the other lifted Moonlight’s chin to make them finally look up at her.
Had Moonlight not developed an iron grip on their emotions they would’ve gasped at the sight. Fuji Kiseki, closer than she’d ever been, looking at them with a look so sweet even sugar couldn’t compare. The sun that shone so brightly at sunset paled when next to her, beaming and radiant. Her cheeks donned a pink hue, accentuated by the widest smile Moonlight had ever seen on Fuji.
“It’s beautiful…” her voice was barely louder than a whisper. She then moved her touch to the trainer’s extended hand, where the brooch sat moments before and swiftly laced their fingers together. “It’s the most beautiful star ever.”
Moonlight could barely think, all they could do at that moment, faced with the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen, was stand dumbfounded, mouth agape, eyes wide, and face a deep shade of red. Fuji seemed to take note, because her smile only grew. The poor trainer was lucky she’d decided to spare them and not say a word about it.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” her words were delicate, as if Moonlight was so fragile that any other tone would shatter them to pieces. “You did all this because of how panicked I was before, didn’t you?” Moonlight could only nod sheepishly, words still not finding their way back to them.
“So this is what it feels to be on the receiving end of things…” Fuji remarked. Moonlight didn’t realize they had been holding their breath until they let out a loud sigh of relief. They also realized how absurd that must have looked when Fuji’s laughter boomed in their ears. “You were really hung up about that slip-up, huh?”
“You could say that, yeah.” Moonlight admitted, there was truly no other way to spin it to save some face. “I was hoping to make it perfect, like you do with your tricks.”
“Hahaha! Darling pony these have taken me years to perfect,” she said, giggles marking every other word. “You can’t expect to make it perfect on your first few tries!”
“You’re right,” Moonlight had no choice but to admit defeat. “But I will make it right one day. Just you wait.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it”
Before Moonlight could even think of a way to respond Fuji pulled them in into a tight embrace.
“Thank you,” she whispered into their ear before pulling back to look at them once more.
The distance between them felt unbearably small. Moonlight was trying to take it all in. Every strand of jet black hair, every inch of her perfect skin, the rich depth of her enchanting blue eyes, her rosy, soft lips… had they always looked so kissable?
Hold on. No. They can’t think like that. They’re trainer and trainee, and even if they weren’t, Fuji was in a league of her own. There was no universe in which those thoughts could become anything more than a fantasy.
They didn’t want to spiral so they brought her back into that embrace and stayed there, eyes tightly shut, taking in Fuji’s comforting warmth, melting into her arms.
Moonlight listened to the world around them, eyes still tightly shut: Waves gently rocked back and forth, grazing lightly against the sand. Chatter could be heard around them as small groups gather to watch the sunset. The breeze sang a light ocean melody. Fuji’s heart beat steadily, in a quick yet soothing rhythm.
They stayed like that for a while, taking in every sound they could. They let themselves become part of the moment. However, the more they listened, the more distorted and uncanny everything became.
Waves no longer sounded like rocking water but instead like rustling fabric. Curtains, maybe? Could it be clothes? Perhaps it was the sound of a blanket rustling with the movement of whoever it enveloped in its warmth.
The sound of voices was no longer alone. People were accompanied by other sounds. Machines beeped and the conversations that previously sounded so casual turned urgent in tone.
The sounds of the wind were not soft and melodious anymore. They were frenzied, quick. They were not of the gentle ocean breeze but of rushed movements.
Worst of all, Fuji’s heart felt distant. The sound was quiet, as if a glass barrier had been placed between them. Even more alarming was that the beating heart, its sound so distant, felt as if it was going to burst out of the young trainer’s own chest. It was as if the heart that rushed so feverishly was their own.
Moonlight opened their eyes. At least they thought they had. They blinked once. Then twice. But every time it was not Fuji Kiseki’s kind eyes that met them, but an all-consuming darkness.
“Fuji?”
Silence.
“Fuji??”
An answer came in the form of a strange pressure around their hand. It felt familiar, like the feeling of her trainee’s hand around their own at the beach.
“Moon…?”
The voice was muffled, barely audible had it not been for the fact that it was so different from every other sound.
“Fuji, is that you?” Moonlight’s panicked voice answered the disembodied voice. “Help me, please!”
The voice didn’t speak at first. In its stead, they felt the sensation of a hand cupping their cheek.
“Open your eyes,” the voice instructed before reassuring them, “you’ll see me there when you do.”
Uncertainty was never a pleasant feeling, but this voice, sweet as sugar and most familiar, was one that Moonlight felt they could trust.
They relaxed, closed their eyes to the void and slowly opened them once more.
…
Gasp
Moonlight Requiem jolted awake. It took a few moments for them to make sense of their surroundings. Everything was covered in bright white light. Their eyes took some time to adjust, but as they did and things came into focus, one thing became clear: this was a hospital.
They stared straight ahead, their gaze meeting a plain-looking white ceiling, the most blinding LEDs assaulting their still unfocused vision. Their eyes darted away, landing instead on the desaturated colors of the singular painting on empty, cream-colored walls. It helped anchor their vision back to reality, though it did nothing for the heavy dread that hung over them.
They glanced every which way around the room. Everything was plain white or off-white, making the black they spotted from the corner of their eye stand out more.
Their gaze immediately turned in the direction of said darkness, drawn to it as if it were magnetic.
What they were met with was a head of black hair, disheveled and unkept. Their gaze moved down a bit, finding a pair of turquoise eyes, red with the remnants of shed tears and glossy with the threat of new ones. Further down were a nose, stuffy from what moonlight only guess were lengthy crying sessions, and a pair of lips slightly parted in disbelief.
An arm was extended towards them and as Moonlight’s eyes traveled down it, they noticed that it connected to the hand that had been cupping their cheek since before their vision came back.
A beat passed before two voices spoke in tandem:
“Moon-“
“Fuji-“
Another pause.
“Where…am I?” Moonlight croaked.
Fuji’s tears came flooding down her face. She hadn’t been able to breathe for the last four days, unsure if her dearest pony would wake up again. The hospital staff reassured her that her trainer’s vitals were stable, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something could go wrong and her Moonlight would be gone for good.
“Hospital…I thought I’d lost you…” Fuji sounded so broken, the entertainer persona nowhere to be found. “Why?” She nearly choked trying to get that singular word out.
Moonlight remembered everything prior to her vision going black, the guilt now weighing heavy in their chest.
“I-“
And before they could even form their excuse, Fuji’s piercing words cut right through their thoughts
“It better be a good reason, Moonlight Requiem, or goddesses help me!” Her voice was laced with a venom the trainer had never heard directed at them before. She was angry, and she had every reason to be given Moonlight had almost killed her trainer and friend.
“I just…I’d had enough-“
“Of what exactly,” Fuji wept “of Me??? Of training me???” She couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice, nor did she really want to. She was furious at them for almost taking away someone so precious to her. “I thought I was doing all I could to make you happy…was it not enough???”
“It’s not that!” They retorted, frantically trying searching for any reason that would make their actions feel any more coherent.
“Then what?” Fuji’s hurt was palpable, every single syllable of speech bursting with unimaginable sadness. “I thought I was seeing things, but I could see the misery in your eyes each time we trained. I didn’t want to pry because I trusted you would come to me like you expect me to come to you
“I’d had enough of myself-”
“I haven’t. I can’t just have ‘enough of you.’ You’re not limited goods or a service you’re my trainer. You’re my friend.”
Neither of them spoke for what felt like an entire lifetime, words hanging heavy, widening the rift between them.
After a while, Fuji spoke first, taking the leap to close that gap: “I will never have enough of you. I would run to the ends of the earth with you. I wouldn’t be half the entertainer — half the person — I am today, without not only your guidance, but you.”
She inched closer to Moonlight, bringing her face only inches away from the trainer.
“You make life better. It’s because of you I’ve even wanted to continue making a name for myself instead of vanishing into the shadows and never coming back.” Her voice carried every sorrow, spoken and unspoken. “I need you, Moonlight, I-”
“I’m sorry…” Moonlight wasn’t particularly good at handling big emotions, especially if they were harder ones to explore. A simple sorry was really all they could muster.
“I don’t want an apology,” Fuji stated, clear and direct, needing her message to be thoroughly understood. “I wan’t an acknowledgment that there are options before you even think of resort to something like that.” Fuji was serious, blue eyes staring directly into silver ones with both love and frustration. “I want you to promise to always come to me. I can’t be the only one who isn’t allowed to hide those feelings away. Never resort to that again…I mean it.”
“Yeah…okay. I can do that.” Moonlight inhaled. “I won’t let myself suffer in silence,” they hesitated after every word, but deep down, they knew she was right. Fuji’s frown slowly disappeared as she heard those words coming directly from her trainer.
They looked at each other, the distance between them so small it hurt. For a moment, it felt like they were both back at that beach, yearning yet too afraid to do anything. Moonlight kept sneaking glances at Fuji’s lips. They were different from the memory: chapped and a little bloodied. Probably the aftermath of sleepless, anxious nights.
“Moon?” Fuji’s voice redirected their gaze back to her eyes, watching as gorgeous turquoise trailed downwards, landing on Moonlight’s lips.
“Yeah?” Their face was warm, embarrassment rushing to their cheeks in the form of deep red hues.
“…May…I-“
Fuji didn’t even finish her sentence before her trainer closed the gap between them, lips colliding in a chaste and bittersweet kiss. Neither of them knew when they’d started crying, they only knew they were because of the salty and wet taste of their lips. It was so delicate, but it carried the passion of 3 years of unspoken love. Years of longing, mixed in with the pain of the last few days to create the most emotional display either of them could ever have imagined. It was imperfect, chapped lips meeting chapped lips and heartfelt tears trailing down their faces. It was everything they both could’ve wanted in that moment of hunger: hunger, not for intense loving, but for closeness and reassurance that the other would never leave.
When their lips finally separated, both Moonlight and Fuji gasping for air, they finally felt at ease.
“I love you,” Moonlight whispered first to their trainee’s surprise. “I have loved you for so, so long. I loved you and hated myself so much I couldn’t bear the thought of weighing you down-“
“Please don’t say that,” Fuji pleaded. “I’ve loved you so much and for such an agonizingly long time that the thought of losing you was unbearable,” her voice quivered, still haunted by the ghosts of the last few days. “I can’t imagine a world without you in it. I’m not even sure I’d able to be anything more than a husk of myself.”
“I…,” the words caught in the trainer’s throat. They took a deep breath before continuing: “I can’t know if I’ll ever feel like this again, I can’t promise I won’t. Everything’s so complicated and I have a lot of baggage that will take some time to be unpacked, but I know I will do my best to open up. I don’t want to do this again.”
Fuji’s eyes crinkled and a smile formed on her face, a small fraction of her usual pep returning to her.
“It’s a start,” she said, love pouring out of every syllable.
They both sat in silence for a moment, letting years of heavy feelings finally lift up from above them and slowly dissipate. Even if temporarily, they truly felt weightless.
“I love you too.”