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second water
In the end she is thinking about him, just him, the news of him, and not the girls that lie somewhere near and between her, or the sound of Minako's broken leg cracking as she tries to get up just one more time because the first thing they have all learned is that Minako does not, will not, cannot accept failure in any shape or form.
She thinks my vision is blurring because she is dying again, bleeding out because some rock broke her fall when they all burst forward in their last, final attempt to try and stall and i am so sorry usa-chan.
"You are going to be fine."
Then he is there, Zoisite, her Zoisite, even though he is Endymoin's Zoisite and why is she remembering now, oh god, now that she never even had him to begin with because his hands were around his throat and there was that very last moment, against the wall, bruises at her jaw, where he told her as himself to just kill me now because someone had to protect the Prince.
"You are going to be fine," he says, his hands over her face, and oh, her eyes are starting to close because it's cold and dark and she can hear Makoto sigh for the last time too.
Her lips are cracked and chapped and she is cold.
In this life, she is a girl.
She does not call him a liar.
third water
Minako pushes a coffee cup across the table. It hits her books and coffee sloshes against the rim.
"What?" she asks, and she is tired.
The other girl snorts and she leans back against the seat. Ami thinks: she is not self-appointed and her manners are surfacing. A leader is a leader is a leader after all. She has homework she wants to say. Luna wants to see them in a couple of hours.
"It's starting to show," Minako is curt. They already understand that she has no filter. Ami seeks the same dark circles though; they only touch the corner of her eyes though. "With all of us," she adds gently. "I'm not sleeping," she breaks off a piece of cookie and offers it to Ami, then eats it when she shakes her head. "You're not sleeping, Mako-chan is not sleeping, and Rei would probably rather die than admit she's not sleeping."
"It's a lot to take in," Ami says.
She spreads her pens to the side. She closes her notebook. Reaching, she grabs the coffee and it's too hot against her palms.
"You've had more time," she says too and that's meant to be as much as a dig as she can make it. Ami isn't petty.
"In theory." There are crumbs around Minako's lips. She frowns. "You've had more time with the others," she replies, shrugging. "This isn't a competition."
Ami frowns too. Her mouth feels tight. She looks away and into street. The sun is bright. It's busy near the arcade. It's nice, maybe too nice, to hear all the noise and the day to day dealings. They need normal. She needs normal; school, friends, school and her future. There are pieces inside of her building into being selfish. She wants to learn to be selfish.
"I--" her throat dries "I--"
Minako shakes her head. They aren't batter, bruised, and war driven. She has a lot of homework. Minako has volleyball practice and Ami promised her mother that she'd meet for a swim later, much later.
They're normal.
"Here," Minako says, and there is a small pouch suddenly, pushed over her books and next to her coffee.
Ami stares at it. In her mind, she is weighing it, holding it, touching it with curiosity because that is the natural reaction. She wonders where it comes from. She wonders why Minako is giving this to her and not the others and why isn't Usagi here because someone has to balance it all.
Her hand stretches out.
The stone sees her and she thinks of her bruises.
first water
The hospital pool isn't a place she comes to often. Her mother is late. Her mother also canceled their swim; Ami prefers the community pool next to their apartment building. There is a sense of safety in that kind of noise and even if it's been days (two weeks) after that last battle, Ami doesn't want to be alone like this.
She forgets the pouch in her bag. It's behind lockers anyway and when she enters the pool, her feet stick and patter into the heat and the floor as she walks toward the water.
Minako's voice lives in her head. this isn't a competition
"I'm going crazy," she breathes, her fingers at her temple.
Her hand runs through her hair. She pushes herself to sit at the edge and unfolds her legs into the water. The smell of chlorine is almost too real. It picks at her nose and pushes at her head. She doesn't want to swim just yet. Her legs push forward in the water and sway.
The water has never been much of a comfort to her. She swims. She's fine, not the best; her mother is the championship swimmer as it is. The water has always been somewhat intimidating to her. It's still a space, a quiet space, and there are no moon princesses and soldiers and good and evil and terrible, old memories that she can only see pieces of. She was the last to die before Minako. The water broke her throat. His hands stayed around her throat and squeezed, squeezed, and even squeezed through his kill me first.
Ami's fingers brush against her throat.
She remembers that first.
-
Ami swims for an hour. She almost finds herself into a second hour, but she gets tired quickly and there is a paper she has to read and extra grading for a teacher she said she'd help. Normal, she reminds herself.
She pushes herself out of the water when she finishes though. The droplets catch her torso and her legs and she can't remember where she put her towel, tossing her goggles to the ground.
"Well."
She doesn't move. "I didn't think you'd come." Her breathing is still catching up. She counts in her head. Then to herself: "I didn't think I'd let you."
"I'm here." He doesn't miss a beat and appears. He doesn't look like a ghost. There is no general's jacket and his sleeves are rolled back as cuffs.
Ami remembers the pouch. She remembers Mamoru's first words to all of them later.
there are pieces
"When?"
Ami shrugs and spots her towel. "I still don't understand everything quite yet." He seems amused that she put something together. She moves the chair she left her towel with. "And --" no one is talking yet "Something inside of me to leave it be," she says too.
"Instinct," Zoisite teases and finally, she gets a good look at him. His eyes are bright and she remembers. His mouth twitches and she remembers. The court ladies find him too handsome; she does not know where that comes from but it's firmly implanted in her head like it belongs there.
"Instinct," she repeats. She takes her towel and sits. "Instinct," she says. "You used to say that I relied too much on planning and there was never enough trust in my instinct."
He laughs. The sound is warm and almost real. "I did." He's delighted. "I was just jealous, you know. You can only go so far relying on instinct."
Her face is warm and she buries it in her hands only because she can't really look at him and what is looking at him going to do; he's there though, she acknowledges that much.
"Is this Mamoru-san's doing?" she wonders, out loud.
He scoffs. "The Prince isn't even ours anymore." There's a slight change in Zoisite's voice. It's both wonder and awe. There's a bit of anger. He's impulsive, she remembers. He's not talking to her: "I suppose we left him behind too."
"Zoisite."
He moves and kneels in front of her. His hands touch her knees. His skin is warm. Hers remains flushed and wet. She remembers his fingers as neat and clean. She blinks and sighs.
"I wanted to see you," he says, and it's not a confession, although she wishes it was because then it would be easier to write off. There is something bubbling up inside of her -- anger, maybe more despair -- and everything seems so far and despondent and away.
"You wanted to see me," she repeats.
"I wanted to see you."
Her gaze meets his. "And here I am," she says slowly, thoughtfully. His hands shift and cover hers. "Now that you've seen me, is it what you wanted? I'm not her. I'm not older and wiser and battle driven. There is a world out there that terrifies me. I've accepted what I can control, you know. It's not lonely and maybe, maybe, what I'm trying to say to you is that there isn't any room for you anymore. Not here, not now, not with me, you know?"
She is trembling. Mercury is kinder with her memories.
Quietly, she says: "You murdered me. You were calculating enough."
Zoisite doesn't look away. "Yes," he says. "That's true too."
He draws back. He remains on his knees. She wishes she could see something tangible. The floor sweats with the heat. Maybe he smells like the pool. Maybe he doesn't. He studies her, then he looks away.
"I'm not her," she says gently, maybe this is an apology.
He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.
The pool door opens. Ami recognizes the doctor. He smiles and waves. Ami bows her head politely and drapes her towel around her neck.
She's alone again.
There are dry spots on the floor.
third water
"So."
Minako meets her before they walk to Rei's. The meeting is at the temple tonight. Luna aims for familiarity. No one says it's because she feels guilty. But Ami stares at Minako and then adjusts her school bag in her hand. She sighs and then digs the pouch out, from its home in her books.
"Here," she murmurs. "Give this to Usagi-chan."
The other girl studies her. Ami squirms. "You'll see her too."
"I can't --" Ami breathes. She doesn't feel guilty. This is what she tells herself. "I can't do that to her," she says too and watches as Minako holds onto the pouch. She pockets it.
The smile on Minako's mouth is too sharp.