Title: I Am the Darkness, You Are My Light: Chapter 2

Author: Storm Bringer

Rating: R

E-mail: the_storm_bringer@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters in this story.

* * * * * *

Makoto sat at the dining room table sipping at a cup of tea while staring out into the overcast day. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and the sky outside was lead gray, casting the entire world in a strange half-light. Every now and then the clouds covering the world would try to make it rain, but these attempts were halfhearted at best and only brought forth a slight drizzle that never lasted very long.

The weather fit Makoto’s mood well. It wasn’t too gloomy or too bright, but more of a confused jumble, neither sun nor clouds quite sure of what place they held in the grand scheme of things this day. That was how Makoto felt: confused, unsure of what was happening in her life at that moment. Was it sunshine, clouds, or a combination of both?

Sighing, Makoto drank her tea and allowed her thoughts to wander back to yesterday morning and the night before.

She had dreamed the same dark dream that always found her when she was feeling down. Shapeless, ephemeral wraiths had pursued her as she raced down a dark tunnel, unable to see anything before or behind her, but knowing that she had to run or they would catch her. And run she had, on and on, until her lungs burned for air and her exhausted body threatened to betray her to the darkness that sought to rend her soul. The tunnel never ended though. It just stretched on into forever.

Makoto shuddered at the memory, then berated herself for being so childish. It had just been a dream, nothing more than a simple nightmare. They were a common enough occurrence for her; she should have gotten used to them by now. But, of course, she hadn’t, and something deep in the back of her mind told her she never would.

Normally, the dream ended with her waking up in a cold sweat, hands groping in the darkness for the comfort of another, always coming up empty. The other night had been different though. Makoto had run and run, but just when she knew she could go no further, a soft blue light had engulfed her, driving back both the wraiths and the darkness. The light had enfolded her like a soft blanket, and she had found peace in its warm embrace. With that light guarding her, she had drifted off into a deep slumber, fearing nothing.

When she had finally awoken to the sunlight streaming through the shades of her bedroom window, Makoto had felt the warmth of a body pressed up against hers. She had found a moments pleasure in the arm holding her tightly. At first she had thought that her boyfriend dumping her had been the dream and this was blissful reality. But then she had noted that the arm thrown across her waist was too small, the skin too smooth to be that of a man. The body pressed against her own was a bit too fleshy, as well.

Memories of the evening before had flashed through her mind.

Ami had guarded her sleep. Ami had driven back the darkness and granted her respite from the endless chase. Ami held her tightly, protecting her still. Makoto hadn’t known what to think. A part of her wanted to stay there forever, wrapped up in the warmth and security offered up by Ami, but at the same time she knew she could not stay. Not yet. Gently removing Ami’s arm from around her, she had slipped out of bed carefully so as not to wake the sleeping girl. Then she had just stood there at the edge of the bed staring down at her friend.

Makoto gulped her tea, trying not to remember the smoothness of Ami’s skin, or the way her gentle face had appeared like that of a sleeping angels. The first light of the new day had played across her blue hair, causing it to glow like the light that had driven away the darkness in Makoto’s dream. The brunette had stood there at the edge of her own bed, unconsciously drinking in the sight of Ami, her thoughts and emotions a maelstrom of confusion.

That maelstrom had yet to dissipate, her emotions yet to sort themselves out after nearly two days of doing her best to think of other things. Ami had said nothing of that night upon waking up and Makoto certainly hadn’t mentioned it, so perhaps Ami had no idea what she had done. Maybe her actions had been dream induced. Yes, that was probably it. She had dreamed of some guy she had met, and, being asleep at the time, she had mistaken Makoto for him.

Rising from the table, Makoto moved into the kitchen. The two of them were good friends and they always would be good friends, nothing more.

So why couldn’t she get the image Ami’s face out of her head?

Because Ami had been there for her when she was needed, Makoto told herself forcefully. Ami had been so nice to her the other day and now she was feeling guilty for offering her nothing in return other than a simple dinner. The image of Ami’s smiling face that kept floating through her mind was nothing more than her subconscious trying to tell her to get her act together and thank her friend properly.

Cookies, decided Makoto, setting her teacup down on the counter with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary. She would bake up a whole platter of cookies for Ami and take them to her. Maybe some brownies too. And, perhaps if she had time, a small pie. Or maybe a large pie. Ami had always liked cake.

Her mind finally locked on something other than possibilities she really didn’t want to give any consideration, Makoto began searching her cupboards for what she would need, intent on losing herself in the less violent of her two favorite past times.

* * * * * *

The young girl walked through a house where giants lived. Everything was three times the size it was supposed to be, towering over her and making her feel small and insignificant. But while everything was so big, it was also familiar. This was her house that she wandered through, although the exaggerated size gave it an empty, alien feeling.

"Mommy!" she called out, receiving an echo as her only reply.

Moving from room to room, the young girl continued to call out for her mother. She never bothered to shout for her dad. No, daddy had left a long time ago and would not come back no matter how many times she called out for him. It was just her and her mom here in this giant house… Except that now it seemed she was all alone. Her mother was nowhere to be found.

Pausing before the TV in the living room, she fought back the tears that threatened to spring from her eyes. She was cold on the inside and out. Tentacles of fear snaked around her chest, constricting her and making it difficult to breathe. The tears she had fought to keep down came anyway and she sank to the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling them up to her chest.

"I don’t want to be alone!" she sobbed into the vast emptiness of the house.

"Why are you crying, Ami?"

The young girl looked up at the television, squinting through tear filled eyes. That was where the question had come from. Somehow she was not surprised to find her own sapphire eyes gazing down at her.

"I’m all alone," she whispered in answer to the question her other self had asked.

"Alone?" queried a voice that held a bit of confusion. "What about your friends? What about Usagi? She’s always there when you need her."

"It’s not…" the girl sniffled. "It’s not the same."

There was a long pause. "I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to be alone, but when offered the company of others, you say it’s not what you’re looking for."

"It's not the same," she repeated softy. "Usagi doesn’t—"

Ice suddenly pierced her heart, freezing her entire body and causing her teeth to slam shut with an audible click. Curled up on the floor, she shivered and willed the cold away, pushed at the emptiness that was trying to consume her. It felt as though she was suddenly falling. Something halfway between a scream and a sob ripped its way out of her throat.

"Oh, Ami…" said a soft voice next to her. It was filled with sadness and compassion. "Usagi doesn’t love you the way you wish to be loved. Like she loves Mamoru. That’s what you were trying to say, wasn’t it? That’s what you’re looking for."

A soft hand touched the young girl’s cheek and instantly the ice melted, replaced by a warmth that surged through her body. Slowly she uncurled her body, slowed the tears that flowed down her face. Her world was filled with the scent of flowers and of the earth just after a raging storm.

Rolling onto her back, Ami gazed up into twin emeralds. "Mako-chan…" she whispered.

"Ami…" The hand continued to stroke Ami’s cheek, gently, lovingly. Makoto’s head bent lower. "Ami…" Her breath was warm against Ami’s skin. "Ami…Ami!!"

Ami jerked awake, sitting up abruptly and nearly upsetting her chair as she attempted to reorient herself. The library, people staring at her, the book that had served as a pillow. She rubbed at her grainy eyes.

"Are you okay, Ami?"

Looking around, Ami found the librarian standing at her shoulder with a concerned look on her face. Fine? No, she was definitely not fine. She had just had a dream about nearly kissing one of her best friends. Hell, she had wanted to kiss Makoto.

"Ami?"

"Huh? Yes, I’m uh…fine. Just a little tired, that’s all."

Yes, tired, that was the reason for the dream. Lack of a good nights sleep coupled with the night she had spent at Makoto’s had resulted in her fatigued mind conjuring up bizarre and completely irrational possibilities. That was a logical explanation for it. She wasn’t a lesbian, nothing like that would ever happen, especially not with Makoto. Ami studiously ignored the brief pang of disappointment she felt at that thought.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" asked the librarian. "It’s not like you to fall asleep like that."

Ami smiled in an attempt to relieve the older woman’s concern. "I was up late last night studying and didn’t get much sleep. That’s all that’s wrong with me."

The look of concern was replaced by one of stern disapproval. "Studying is all well and good, but you shouldn’t neglect the basic needs of the body, Ami. Without sleep, that brilliant mind of yours will waste away to nothing. You’re eating right aren’t you? You look a bit pale."

Ami assured the librarian she was fine, then patiently endured a brief lecture on taking proper care of herself. She didn’t pay much attention to what was said. Her thoughts strayed in various directions while her eyes took a brief tour of the library. Her gaze alighted on the rack where new books were displayed, taking note of one in particular. It had a large picture of white flower streaked with red and even from where she sat, Ami could make out the title written in large, black letters: "Flora of South America." Makoto would probably like to take a look at that book.

The librarian finished her lecture and Ami agreed that it would be good to go home and get some rest. A quick stop along the way couldn’t hurt anything, though, she thought to herself as she checked out the book on flowers.

* * * * * *

A soft rap on the door of her apartment caused Makoto to glance up from what she was doing. Setting down the bowl of carefully prepared ingredients she had been stirring, Makoto turned her gaze from the door to her oven. Looking through the clear glass front she noted that the cookies within were almost done. The knock at her door was repeated, a little louder this time, and Makoto sighed.

It was the timing of the thing. Normally she would have greeted her unknown guest by now, but the cookies in the oven prevented her from leaving at that moment. Through instinct honed by years of cooking, Makoto knew the exact moment when her cookies would be done. A little more or less time spent in the oven would, if not exactly ruin them, keep them from being as good as they could have been. Being something of a perfectionist when it came to her cooking, Makoto just couldn’t have that.

The knock came again. There was a half-hearted air about it this time, as though the person knocking had given up any hope of someone being home, but had decided to give it one last try anyway. Even now Makoto could imagine the person on the other side of the door turning to depart, taking with them whatever had brought them here in the first place whether it be news, gifts or just simple company. That couldn’t be allowed to happen anymore than she could allow her cookies to burn. After all, maybe it was a cute guy.

Throwing a last, frustrated glance in the direction of her oven, Makoto wiped flour coated hands on her apron and made her way to the door. Opening the door showed, to her eternal dismay, that there was no cute guy on the other side. In fact, there was no one there at all. Looking up and down the hall outside her apartment Makoto saw that, as she had envisioned, her visitor had decided that no one was home and was in the process of departing.

The sound of the door opening and the delicious smells that wafted into the hallway stopped the visitor from going far though. Turning around, Ami smiled at the sight of Makoto’s head poking out of the doorway like a turtle poking out of its shell. She was forced to suppress a laugh when she noted the flour that streaked her friend’s cheeks and stained the tip of her nose. Her amusement at the sight must have been evident in her features though, because Makoto’s eyes narrowed.

"What’s so funny?" she demanded.

Ami waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nothing. I was just thinking of a joke I heard the other day."

The flimsy explanation was not needed however, as Makoto seemed to have forgotten she had even asked a question. She was throwing furtive glances back into her apartment and for a brief instant it seemed as if she had forgotten all about Ami. Then she turned back to her friend and waved her forward.

"Come in, come in," she said hastily as she ducked back inside herself.

Ami followed her friend into her apartment, the smell of freshly baked cookies causing her mouth to water. She was not alone in this either, as a few other people were present in the hall as well. Makoto was very generous with the goodies she baked, sharing them freely with her friends and neighbors. Now, those neighbors present hoped fervently that they would not have to endure the tortures of only smelling these delicious delicacies. As the door closed behind the young woman with blue hair though, it was as if the door to heaven itself had been shut.

Upon stepping into the apartment, the smells that had tantalized Ami outside now hit her full on. It was a wonder she didn’t break down and drool on the spot. Quite familiar with her friend’s cooking, Ami knew for a fact that Makoto made the best chocolate-chip cookies around. She watched in hungry fascination as Makoto pulled a tray full of golden-brown chocolate goodness from her oven.

Seemingly lost in what she was doing, Makoto began removing the cookies from the tray, placing them on a wire rack to cool. She scrutinized each one, muttering to herself about being three seconds late while throwing semi-angry looks Ami’s direction. Ami didn’t notice though, her gaze locked firmly on the cookies, the whole reason she had come to visit her friend forgotten.

Picking up one of her cookies, Makoto took a bite and chewed slowly, checking for flaws. She had no idea that this drawn out process of chewing and swallowing was working as a form of slow torture on her friend. Finally remembering that she had company, Makoto offered Ami a cookie. It disappeared so fast that she had to check twice to make sure this was indeed knowledgeable, well mannered Ami and not dizty, food-loving Usagi.

Licking her finger (something she only did when Makoto cooked and only when she thought no one was looking) Ami said, "No one makes cookies as delicious as yours, Mako-chan."

Makoto smiled. "I’m glad you like them. I made them for you, after all."

Ami blinked. "Me? What for?"

"Uh…" The brunette turned away, going back to her mixing bowl. She stared into the bowl, watching the swirls created in the dough by the wooden spoon she was using to stir with. Why was she doing all this cooking again? For Ami, or to get her mind off of Ami? The later, she conceded to herself, and now that Ami was here…

"Well, you know," she continued. "You were so nice to me the, uh, other night and I felt I owed you something."

A small hand settled on her shoulder and she stiffened slightly. "You don’t owe me anything," said Ami. "I know you would do the same for me."

"Yeah, well…" Makoto trailed off, wishing that Ami would take her hand back so she didn’t have to feel its warmth through the pale green blouse she was wearing. She held up the bowl for Ami to see. "I’m making brownies too."

Ami’s hand left Makoto’s shoulder so that it could dip a couple of fingers into the bowl of chocolate brownie mix. "Mmmm…" she intoned from around her chocolate laden fingers. "That’s good, but you really don’t have to do all this for me."

Makoto simply gave her friend a weak smile. "It’s not a problem. I like to cook. Here, you have some chocolate on your face."

The brunette reached over and used her thumb to wipe away a stray bit of chocolate at the edge of Ami’s mouth, her fingertips gently brushing against the smaller girl’s cheek. This time it was Ami who stiffened, the dream she had had earlier rising up in front of her eyes as she felt Makoto’s gentle touch. Electricity seemed to arc from those fingers. Hastily she stepped back out of Makoto’s reach, her hand coming up to rest on her cheek.

The two girls stood in Makoto’s kitchen staring at one another as an uncomfortable silence draped them like a smothering blanket. Unorganized, chaotic thoughts whirled through Ami’s mind, spinning just out of reach when she tried to grasp them. There were things in that tornado of thought that she knew she had never considered, things that were not logical. The more she thought about it, the more she was unsure as to whether she actually wanted those thoughts to sort themselves out.

Makoto stood with her hand still raised from where she had been cleaning off Ami’s mouth. Deep in the back of her mind a battle was raging. On one side were thoughts and feelings that never should have existed where someone like Ami was concerned. She didn’t want to consider such things so she fought against them. Her weapon was the stubborn determination that had served her so well throughout what had been a tough, lonely life. Makoto simply refused to acknowledge the idea that she and Ami would ever be anything more than close friends.

"Sooo…" began Makoto, casting off the uncomfortable silence. "What brings you over today, Ami?"

"Wha…? Oh, uh…" Ami felt heat rising in her cheeks and quickly turned away, moving to where she had laid her book bag. "I, uh, saw a book in the library I thought you might enjoy and, um, I thought I’d bring it by."

Ami retrieved the book and handed it to Makoto. The brunette glanced at the cover and then started flipping through the pages; quickly losing herself in the description of some new flower that had been discovered. Ami took advantage of her friend’s distraction and started working on her escape. It wasn’t an escape though; she wasn’t running from anything. No, she just had lots of homework to do. And she had promised the librarian that she would get some rest. It was truly best if she went home now.

The blue haired girl grabbed up her book bag and eased towards the door. "I need to go, Mako-chan. Thanks for the cookies."

Makoto’s eyes appeared over the top of the book just as Ami’s hand came to rest on the doorknob. "Huh? Wait, I’ll wrap up the cookies I made you so you can take them home."

Ami hesitated. "Um, no, that’s okay, I really have to go. Lot’s of homework, you know. Maybe I’ll, uh, come get them tomorrow. Or the next day. I’ll have to see. Thanks again." Then she was gone, slipping out the door before Makoto could say another word.

The brunette stared at the closed door, the book in her hands forgotten. A part of her was sad to see Ami go, longing for her to remain as long as possible, but another, larger part thought that this was for the best. Now she had time to sort through her thoughts and emotions.

Unwanted emotions swelled in her chest once again and once again she forced them back down. The idea of any sort of romantic relationship with Ami was preposterous. Even if she did feel that way towards Ami—which she didn’t!—there was no chance that such feelings would ever be returned. And if Ami ever found out she had thought about her that way… Makoto did not want to lose her friends. She didn’t want to be alone again.

She returned her attention to the book Ami had brought over for her, locking away those thoughts and emotions she didn’t want anything to do with. This left an empty feeling deep in her gut, but she studiously ignored it.

* * * * * *

Ami leaned against the door of Makoto’s apartment, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She could still feel where Makoto had touched her, like electric fingerprints on her skin. One hand strayed to her cheek, resting there as though she might be able to trap the feeling of Makoto’s fingers against her bare skin forever just by holding her hand there.

Foolishness!

She snatched her hand away and held it firmly at her side. It was an effort to keep it there though, and this annoyed her to no end. She wanted to touch the place where Makoto’s fingers had been. No, she wanted to touch Makoto. Ami’s face flamed and she hurried away from her friend’s apartment before her hand decided to open the door and carry her body back inside.

Logic ruled Ami’s life. Facts and numbers made the world go ‘round, and studying those facts and numbers would inevitably bring a person to any number of truths. Once out on the street and away from Makoto, Ami took a deep breath and began sorting through the facts and numbers that made up her life. She sorted them, placed them into neat little rows and columns, analyzed them, analyzed the data she got from analyzing them, ran all the information through the computer that was her mind, and came to one simple, undeniable conclusion.

She felt more for Makoto than just friendship.

How had this happened? she asked herself. No matter how many times she looked over the facts and numbers, Ami couldn’t come up with an answer to that question. She did, however, reach a second conclusion.

She really, really needed to talk to someone.