Hey guys, I'm still getting the hang of this new submission format, so please excuse any
weirdness that occurs in the wrapping of the text. Any weirdness in the story itself is
inexcusable, pretty much -- that's just how I am. For some odd reason, a lot of people
REALLY like this story (myself not included), and I'm not sure why. Any ideas? I think
I'm a bigger fan of 'Rouge', but I'm not exactly partial. Anyway, hope you guys liked
Chapter One, and really, if you didn't, then you're just nuts to be back here for installment
numero dos. Either way, e-mail me with thoughts, ideas, cookie recipes, money orders.
I like mail. So do the deed.
Disclaimer: Insert here.
slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke/
******************************
Need Me – Chapter Two
By Sailor Europa
"Ne, Usagi, are you going to be OK by yourself?"
I sighed and nodded, exhausted. Leaning my head against the window of the train,
I took a deep breath. The light of the rising sun was beginning to tinge the sky a pale
purple, yet still hiding its brilliance for a few more minutes. I looked at my watch and
blinked away some of the sleep. 4 AM. With any luck, I would make it home before he
had a chance to leave for work this morning.
"I will be on call all day Usagi. Do you have my cell number still?" Ami asked,
laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at her slowly and nodded
again, giving her a weak smile. She returned it sympathetically and straightened up.
"I need to go, the train will leave in a few moments." She said and leaned over to
give me another hug. It seemed she had done that a lot this past evening. Not that I didn't
appreciate it, but in this instance, the action seemed a bit over-rated. "Please call me if
you need to talk, all right?"
"I will Ami." I sighed. "I'll no doubt need to."
"I'll talk to you later, Usagi-chan. De wa." She said brightly, and I groaned as I
was left alone for the first time in almost 12 hours. The train jolted suddenly not long
after, and I had a familiar feeling of motion-sickness that I had thought I'd out-grown
long ago. Thinking of returning to that apartment, that bed, that environment…. I wasn't
sure my stomach could handle it.
*****
~-~ 7:22 AM ~-~
"Mamoru?" I called tentatively as I swung the front door inward and stepped
inside. Slowly, my head craned to scan the apartment as I walked farther in, tossing my
jacket absently on the table and placing my purse beside it. I took a few small steps and
spied my husbands scattered and cluttered desk, tiny lamp still illuminating hundreds of
legal papers and law books from his college days. The chair was pushed out, and I sighed
as I collected a few loose sheets from the floor and laid them on top.
I sighed as I replaced some pillows on the couch, and then walked around the
plush brown exterior, purposely avoiding the framed wedding photo on the end-table.
I anxiously made the heart-pounding journey down the short hallway, towards the
ajar door that lead to our bedroom. The room that had been a retreat for the two of us, for
such a short time. Where we would lie awake in bed, holding each other until our
exhaustion stole us into sleep. The queen size bed was my favorite spot in this tiny little
apartment, and I could honestly remember it being a forbidden vortex my mother had
prohibited me from entering when the courtship had begun. But once the honeymoon had
begun though, the doors opened wide for me. It was as much mine as his now, and I laid
claim to every inch.
I took a deep breath and pushed the knob a bit farther, and peered in. Not a soul.
And then I noticed an oddity; the bed was made. Not that it should have been out
of the ordinary, but with the current state that Mamoru had been in, I was pretty sure he
wasn't going to waste time making hospital corners when he could get to the office five
minutes early. And his clothes weren't lain haphazardly along the back of the easy-chair
in the corner either, waiting for me to get fed-up and wash them as always.
Moving a bit faster now, I opened the door to our bathroom adjoining the
bedroom and found nothing out of place. It was as clean as I had left it the night before.
Something deep inside me welled up, blocking my heart. All the evidence pointed to one
conclusion, but I fought back tears as I trotted back into the living room and eventually
the kitchen. It couldn't be true; I wouldn't believe it. I pushed open the swinging door,
and almost screamed; it was the same in there as it was everywhere else. It was as if the
tiny little apartment had been sucked into a worm-hole where time forgot it. Nothing had
changed.
I sunk to the floor in a heap, and covered my face with my hands, letting the tears
fall like sheets. The denial was hard, and it finally gave way to acceptance, which brought
a horrid, empty hollowness in the pit of my chest.
"He didn't come home…." I whispered into the air. I rocked myself back and
forth, coughing painfully on broken sobs. I looked around the linoleum, the oak cabinets,
the tiny kitchen table; it had held so many promises. It was ours. Everyone complained
that with all the money my husband, the hot-shot lawyer, couldn't afford to give me
more. But it had been OURS, and I loved it more than anything. It was the same one he
owned when we dated, and the idea that he opened his own home to me was amazing. It
meant he welcomed me into every part of himself, and I loved that idea.
But now, the things that surrounded me were my own. Mamoru had confined
himself, chained himself to the tiny little desk in the corner of the living room. Books,
briefcases, suits and ties; those were his possessions, his friends. And everything else
belonged to me. I cooked in the kitchen, I cleaned the pictures and knick-knacks in the
living room, and I slept in the bed. Those were the things I lived my life for. Those were
the things I had waited 22 years for, gave up any hope of a career for. A few measly
material items, and an empty apartment which I occupied alone.
With tear-stained, puffy eyes I glanced up. I took a deep breath and let everything
that I saw sink in. A lonely, stark dwelling, clean and shining; soulless. I used a shaking
hand to pull myself from the cool linoleum floor, and blinked. This was it. I fingered the
refrigerator door, and smiled bitter-sweetly. I moved a couple steps to the left and opened
the first cupboard. Almost empty, I mused. Two mugs and a coffee pot, which normally
would still be left on the counter, evidence that Mamoru had not forgotten his morning
caffeine fix; it was the one thing I could always count on from him. Leaving the house
with the rich, sensual aroma of coffee beans.
I glanced behind me, where the stove stood. I had made him dinner for months
there, after he had taught me to cook properly. I never was very successful at it, but it
always made me feel more useful and it made this tiny little space my own.
A tiny pink potholder hung above the timer and I cringed. A few more tears fell
willingly down my face.
"Chibi-Usa…" I mumbled. I had failed to think of her during the past few months,
and how she fit into this horrid scene. I pulled the ragged piece of fabric from its holder
and tilted my head. What would happen to her now? My heart wept. I had so looked
forward to being her mother. Now it felt so far off, like a distant dream. I sighed, setting
the potholder down on the counter again. I blinked back more tears, everything around
me prompting me, prodding me. It had been too long, I knew that I had been waiting for
something, anything to goad me into making a decision, seeing things clearly.
In the back of my mind, I knew that eventually the idea of a whole night alone
was a very real and distinct possibility. It was a bittersweet coincidence that I happened
to be away at the time; Mamoru didn't know I wasn't going to be home and he still
stayed out. I had been feeling as if I was always going to have to take a backseat to his
career. But this had proven that I was being completely left behind.
I dragged myself once more through the hallway and into the room. I didn't
bother to turn the light on; I didn't want to have to see the empty walls, filled with
nothing but air. I had once hoped to redecorate, make it everything we had dreamt about.
But all the bedspreads and curtains couldn't make this room anything that it wasn't. It
couldn't make up for the sleepless nights spent by myself, or the fruitless attempts to
reach out.
I started the warm water in the shower, and sat on the bed, my hands clasped
between my knees. I felt the worn-in, comfortable softness of our bedspread. With a
heavy heart I leaned back and pulled my body onto the mattress. I laid on my side and
stared at the vacancy next to me, the fluffy pillow where no one ever rested their head
anymore. Mamoru couldn't let himself rest. I wondered sometimes if he even dreamt of
his cases. Did he wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare of him losing a big case? Did
he ever lay awake, fretting over what would happen the next day in court? I pulled my
knees to my chest and felt the tears once more as they cascaded from my face onto the
feather pillow.
When was it exactly that he stopped dreaming about me?
*****
"Hai, I was hoping to see Ayashi-san, if possible. Is he available, by chance?"
The tiny woman behind the desk pulled out the leather-bound appointment book,
and as she clicked her tongue, ran her finger down the consecutive time slots. She smiled
suddenly, and looked up at me.
"You're in luck! His consultation at 11:30 just cancelled. He can see you right
away." She chirped. She gave me a clipboard with several forms to fill out, and pointed
to a large sofa to sit while I waited. I had a hard time concentrating enough to fill out all
the medical information and insurance verification. My hands shook, and I found myself
reading the same question over and over. I sniffled back a few remnants of the weeping
from that same morning, cursing as I had been sure they had ended with the steaming
shower. I had dressed quickly afterwards; I knew I wouldn't be able to do this if I had the
chance to think about it. I tugged on the a-line skirt I had chosen.
I pursed my lips, and looked over the completed sheets of paper. My whole life,
boiled down to a few well-worded inquiries. I stood up and with a tight-lipped smile,
handed everything back to Mr. Ayashi's assistant. She grinned and stood up.
"Follow me." She said, walking down a small hall towards a large set of ornate,
double cherry-oak doors, with a gilded plaque stating Mr. Ayashi's title. "You're
certainly lucky you came when you did. Mr. Ayashi rarely has an opening on such short
notice." She turned around and gave me a wink. "Must be fate, ne?" I cringed.
"Yes." I murmured numbly in reply. She pulled the doors open with a flourish,
and revealed a tall, blonde hunched over a keyboard. His glasses sat far down on his nose
and he clutched his chin thoughtfully, staring at the monitor as if it would change before
his very eyes. He glanced up, surprised, as we both entered. Tipping his glasses farther
up, he gave me a warm smile.
"Ayashi-san, this is Chiba Usagi. She hasn't had a chance to get everything
straightened out, but you're original 11:30 couldn't make it." The lithe young woman
stated, handing the forms to the man. He nodded agreeably and then bidded her out the
door. She gave short bow and then shut the door before her.
"Chiba-san, mm?" He gave me a thoughtful look, his eyes clouding in thought.
"Are you related to Chiba Mamoru? I wasn't aware he had any relatives." He asked, and I
blushed, looking down.
"I'm his wife."
"Ah." He said, nodding in acknowledgement. Flipping through the pages before
him, he made a few "mmhmm"s in reference to my answers. After a few moments of
uncomfortable silence, he faced me fully and folded his hands on the desk in front of him.
I gulped, wondering what exactly was going through his mind. I couldn't see his eyes
through the glare in his glasses, and I could feel my nerves wearing thin again, and the
tears threatened once more.
"Chiba-san, what exactly can I help you with?" He asked, politely, gently. As if
he knew just what I was going to say.
I looked down at my lap, and pulled in a shaky breath. To say these words was to
make it a reality; there would be no denial once they left my lips. After months of hope
and undying love, I wasn't sure what else to do. A sniffle escaped unwittingly and I
blinked back rebellious tears, my heart pounding, hoping against hope that something
would keep me from speaking. But no lightning struck and no voice from God sounded. I
looked up as courageously as I could manage.
"I'd like to file for divorce."
***********************************
FEEEEEEEEEEEEED BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!
*cackles as the lightning flashes behind her*
slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke/
AIM :: SeeShelliRun
(
geocities.com/slr_europa)