The Early Moon Chronicles
by Michaela Wills
Shelli982@aol.com

Story 3 - 'Blood and Water' or 'A Younger Sailor Mercury'
Ami stood on the box, tense and ready, her mind and body prepared for the inevitable sound that would spark motion and strength into her. The sound that would set off a chain reaction, making her either victorious or just like the rest.

Beeeeep!

There it was! Ami dove off her platform with perfect technique, hitting the water at just the right angle. Adrenaline sped through her veins, pushing her to accelerate through the liquid that smoothed over her body effortlessly. She loved the feel of it gliding over her skin, the way it felt slipping through her fingers as she edged through it, forcing it to part for her.

Head surfaced and taking a deep breath, Ami began to stroke and kick, propelling herself forward. The constant splashing on her legs, the steady strokes felt perfectly tuned with the water and her body. Everything simply fell together when she swam. It all made sense.

Stroke, stroke, stroke-breath. Stroke, stroke, stroke-breath. It all was practiced and perfect. The wall came up nearly to fast. It signaled the end. Or truthfully, the halfway mark, but the middle of anything was the real beginning of the end. It was something that Ami had come to understand a long time ago.

With a perfectly executed flip turn, Ami headed back the way she came. She could feel the splashing of her competitors coming behind her giving her a sensation of triumph. The water was one of the few places that Ami felt powerful. The only other time she felt like this was when learning. Books were her friends. But swimming was more important. Books were an excitement, but in the pool, in a race: Everything was different. She was in her element, she knew that this was where she belonged.

She looked around her fleetingly, even well in the lead she knew that it could cost her to glance around for very long. She spotted her mother's dark hair in the crowd, standing out as it always did. It suddenly occurred to her that the swimmer on the end lane was doing very well also, only about a stroke behind Ami. It was all the motivation for her to work harder. Stroke, stroke, stroke-breath. Stroke, stroke, stroke-breath. The succession became increasingly quicker. She was aware of the closeness of her threat.

She could hear her swim-team members screaming at her, encouraging her. But this was not what pushed her. She couldn't lose this element, this strength. If she was to lose, her confidence would be taken away. Everyone on the team told her she was the best, that she would break that one minute mark this time. She couldn't fail them. Or herself. There was a well known trainer in the audience and if Ami placed well, she might be offered a chance to train with the coach. She pushed forth her best effort, not hesitating in the least. Her form and strokes perfect, strong and steady. Everything that the trainer would look for she had.

Slam! Her wrist hit the wall-timer board HARD. She hadn't even seen it coming. Holding onto the edge of the pool, Ami breathed deeply. She pulled off her goggles, relaxing for a moment, but at the same time looking frantically for the scoreboard, fearing the results. They didn't come up.

That was odd . . . usually the marks came up as soon as the race was finished, no stall what-so-ever. Something must be wrong. Slowly her eyes scanned the room, trying to figure out what had happened. Worried, she realized there was a crowd of coaches around a swimmer at the other pool. The swimmer was lying down, and the coaches were moving quickly, trying to do something. Another swimmer from her team ran over and said something to one of the coaches.

Nervously, Ami climbed out of the pool and walked quickly over to the gathering. By this point, there was a crowd around the swimmer and Ami couldn't see. Looking into the pool, she saw the traces of blood mixing with the water which made Ami feel sickened. Fear clutched tightly at the soft girl's heart, total helpless fear. The teammate from before began to run by, but Ami caught his shoulder.

"Himo-san, what happened . . . who . . .?" She began, unable to make herself clear.

"It's Kinoa-chan! She wasin the backstroke, she countedherstrokes wrong and hitherhead on the edge. She was undertheboard. You know theboard isbroken and it cracked. She was rightunder it'nd it fellinthe pool on her." He blurted out in spurts of broken language. "The coaches gotherout, buthey can't help her, she's notawake. Called the hospital and they're sendingsomeoneover, but it may takeawhile since it's in Juuban." He pulled free and began to run. "I'm gonnawait outside for the ambulance!" He called over his shoulder

Ami stood there stunned. Kinoa was nearly her only friend on the team, Probably one of her only friends in general as most didn't bother with the quiet girl. Kinoa was her _best_ friend. Kinoa was also her best competition. And she was hurt. If an ambulance didn't come, then it might get worse. She may not wake up, or be really, really hurt. She may not ever swim again. She began to shake from the shock and cold. If only they could get a doctor here faster, Juuban was pretty far from this small swimming arena. . . . Suddenly, she saw her mother's dark hair flash by.

Ami whipped around, watching her mother struggle through the crowd of people. After a moment, they ceded to her, allowing her to pass. It was then that Ami remembered her mother's occupation. Her mom WAS a doctor!

She followed the path that lay open, pulling off her swim cap as she walked. Her long blue hair fell past her shoulders softly, concealing the worry on her face from the spectators. She stood behind her mother as Dr. Mizuno worked over her friend.

The moments passed, the air heavy with tense anticipation. Ami watched her mother, praying silently for her friend and her mother's skills. She felt idle and helpless, standing and watching her friend suffer. She hated feeling helpless, she decided it then. Absolutely hated it. She knelt beside Kinoa and picked up her hand, holding it gingerly as not to hurt the still figure.

Her mother looked to her briefly catching her eyes. Dr. Mizuno's mouth was drawn in a tight, stiff line across her face. Her eyes were tense as her body was rigid. The years of ER training were taking over as Ami saw her mother in a way she never had before.

She continued to work over Kinoa, barely paying any mind to the multitudes around her. Ami didn't know half of the things her mother was doing, but if it was helping Kinoa, she didn't care. It pained her to sit there and wait, despite the confidence she had in Dr. Mizuno's abilities. More than anything, Ami just wanted her friend to be alright, yet she knew she'd be more at ease if she could be doing something to help.

"I think she'll be okay, I just need to get her to a hospital. And on a respirator. Now." Dr. Mizuno said suddenly snapping Ami out of her worry, relief washing over them both.

It was then that sound erupted back into the arena. Paramedics flew past Ami, led by Himo-san. The coaches and Ami's mom gathered their things together quickly.

"I'll be back soon, Ami-chan, have a coach take you home, I'll be there soon, dear." Her mother called to her, hurrying after the stretcher with her patient on it. Ami closed her eyes in prayer and thanks for a moment, before feeling a tap on her shoulder.

"Miss Mizuno? I would like to congratulate you on a wonderful job, and my regrets over your teammate." It was the trainer, the one that Ami so longed to work with. She looked up to the scoreboard, her name posted on the top in electric lights as she always liked to see. She looked down to where Kinoa had been, the cement stained in blood. Her mind momentarily torn between the prospects of two worlds.

She had seen something in the worn, but successful face of her mother that afternoon. A beacon of light, of devotion and honor. That pained look Dr. Mizuno had shot her daughter, the battle-harden stare of the ER expert had struck a chord in the gangly girl's heart. Her admiration shifted, her mother become greater in the eyes of one she loved most. She was giving Kinoa a gift that Ami had wanted to give herself. Hope. A new possibility now came into Ami's view.

"I watched your race and you were very good, I would like to have a word with your parents about training you in the future. You have a very good potential, my dear." The trainer smiled warmly, which Ami reciprocated gladly.

"I . . . I . . . I don't know what to say." She said nervously, "I love swimming, I really do. But I don't think I want to become a swimmer anymore. I still love swimming, it's just . . ." She said, her voice wavered as she tried to make the multitudes of thoughts clear. Her eyes shone helplessly as she looked up at the man. "My mom, she saved Kinoa-chan. She . . . she's my best friend. I . . . I think I would like to be able to do what she does. Help people who are hurt. I just felt so helpless and I wanted to help. A doctor can help in ways a swimmer can't." She whispered, unsure of what she was trying to say herself. The coach chuckled, kneeling down to her level.

"Training to be a swimmer is hard work. It takes alot of time and patience to be a swimmer. But I have seen many swimmers who do other things too. You don't need to give up being a doctor to be a swimmer too. It's more of a challenge to do both, but I have no doubt that you could do it." He said placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him in surprise. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that! Her eyes shone. Sooner or later she would have to choose between her love and her new empowerment, but that time was not now.

"Thank you! Then I'd love to! To train under you that is." She smiled.

Turning slightly, she gazed out the doors at the rushing paramedics, already knowing in the deepest part of her heart which dream was to be let go.

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