Sailor V fanfic: "Three Exhausted Women"
Aug. 22nd, 2011 08:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eliyesTitle: Three Exhausted Women
Warning: Angst! (but it's canon angst)
A/N: References Sailor V manga and Sailor Moon episode #42 "Sailor Venus' Past! Minako's Tragic Love" (never dubbed in English). This is how I connect the two versions of Sailor V's past.
"I'm sorry." The voice on the phone was weary, heartsick with grief temporarily tamped down to deal with what was necessary. "The experts have finished going over the... the scene." Her accent was slipping, but Katarina stubbornly stuck to Japanese for the sake of her listener. "There's not enough -- everything identifiable as... remains, is too small and too damaged to say if..." Her breath hitched. "It was a very powerful explosion."
"I understand," Natsuna answered quietly in the same language. Her own grief had been a hurricane that raged all through the trip in the hastily-chartered private jet, Japan to England. She'd had the luxury of letting go to counter the anguish of there being nothing she could do, so she had sobbed and screamed it all out. It couldn't be true. Sailor V, dead? No. Not possible. She was undefeated! She was a hero! She was too young, and she was like a little sister to Natsuna, and she could not be dead!
It couldn't be true. Could it?
By the time she stepped off the plane in London, Natsuna's heart was like the beach after a storm: washed raw and strewn with wreckage; desolate; silenced.
"Miss Sakurada, I would like to tell her family --"
"It would be wiser if I did that," Natsuna pointed out gently. "They already know me, and I have to go back to Japan anyway." As she waited for a response, she leaned her forehead on the cool glass of the window, eyes closed against the view. Despite what she'd heard, it wasn't raining in London. It seemed like it should be.
"Yes, that's so..." Katarina finally agreed, with obvious reluctance.
Natsuna straightened, nodding to herself. She took a moment to gather her composure, then said formally, "On behalf of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, I extend thanks to Interpol and the Metropolitan Police Service for their efforts in this matter."
"I will pass that along."
"Also, please..."
"Yes?"
"...Remember. It was her choice."
Another pause, and then the Interpol agent's voice, strained with emotion, promised, "I will never forget her."
"Neither will I," Natsuna whispered.
"...Have a safe trip home."
"Thank you."
Once the telephone receiver was safely back in its cradle, Natsuna took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. "That was difficult." She turned to look into the depths of the unlit hotel room, where a bandaged figure reclined on a bed. "Oh!" Natsuna was jolted into motion by the realisation that her guest was silently weeping. She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully pulled the injured girl into a hug, heedless of the tears that soaked into her silk blouse. "Oh, Minako..."
Aino Minako, burned and battered by the explosion she had narrowly escaped as Sailor V, clung as well as she could with one arm in a sling, and cried. It was partly shock wearing off, fear deferred coming back now that she was safe, relief that she survived -- even guilt for destroying her enemies -- but mostly, Natsuna suspected, it was heartbreak.
"It's not too late. I could call her back, tell her you just stumbled in, alive! We'll say a little old lady found you, dazed from the blast, and bandaged you up. She didn't have a radio or television, so she didn't realise people were looking for you! Everyone will be happy, we'll have a party, get you to a real doctor..."
Minako shook her head, not looking up. "No. It has to be this way."
"Why?" Natsuna kept her voice soft, moving one hand in soothing strokes down Minako's hair.
"I don't want her to feel guilty..." Much misery in that answer.
"She does feel guilty." Natsuna pulled back slightly, tilting her head to try to look at Minako's face. "She thinks you died --"
"That isn't what I mean." Minako groped blindly for the tissue box on the nightstand, sniffing. "She knew how I feel about Alan." She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. "Now she knows how he feels about her. She'll think, 'V would want us to be happy'." Her jaw set into a stubborn line. "And she's right. I do want them to be happy. I don't want to stand in the way of their love."
"But if they knew..."
"She wouldn't want to hurt me. Or him. So it's better this way."
Natsuna sighed and hugged her again, not sure if she agreed or not, but knowing just how obstinate Minako could be. "Let me get you some water." When she returned from the washroom with a damp facecloth for Minako's face and a bottle of water, she wondered aloud, "How are we going to get you home without someone realising?"
"Don't worry," Minako told her, smiling tiredly. "I'm a master of disguise."
.
Warning: Angst! (but it's canon angst)
A/N: References Sailor V manga and Sailor Moon episode #42 "Sailor Venus' Past! Minako's Tragic Love" (never dubbed in English). This is how I connect the two versions of Sailor V's past.
"I'm sorry." The voice on the phone was weary, heartsick with grief temporarily tamped down to deal with what was necessary. "The experts have finished going over the... the scene." Her accent was slipping, but Katarina stubbornly stuck to Japanese for the sake of her listener. "There's not enough -- everything identifiable as... remains, is too small and too damaged to say if..." Her breath hitched. "It was a very powerful explosion."
"I understand," Natsuna answered quietly in the same language. Her own grief had been a hurricane that raged all through the trip in the hastily-chartered private jet, Japan to England. She'd had the luxury of letting go to counter the anguish of there being nothing she could do, so she had sobbed and screamed it all out. It couldn't be true. Sailor V, dead? No. Not possible. She was undefeated! She was a hero! She was too young, and she was like a little sister to Natsuna, and she could not be dead!
It couldn't be true. Could it?
By the time she stepped off the plane in London, Natsuna's heart was like the beach after a storm: washed raw and strewn with wreckage; desolate; silenced.
"Miss Sakurada, I would like to tell her family --"
"It would be wiser if I did that," Natsuna pointed out gently. "They already know me, and I have to go back to Japan anyway." As she waited for a response, she leaned her forehead on the cool glass of the window, eyes closed against the view. Despite what she'd heard, it wasn't raining in London. It seemed like it should be.
"Yes, that's so..." Katarina finally agreed, with obvious reluctance.
Natsuna straightened, nodding to herself. She took a moment to gather her composure, then said formally, "On behalf of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, I extend thanks to Interpol and the Metropolitan Police Service for their efforts in this matter."
"I will pass that along."
"Also, please..."
"Yes?"
"...Remember. It was her choice."
Another pause, and then the Interpol agent's voice, strained with emotion, promised, "I will never forget her."
"Neither will I," Natsuna whispered.
"...Have a safe trip home."
"Thank you."
Once the telephone receiver was safely back in its cradle, Natsuna took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. "That was difficult." She turned to look into the depths of the unlit hotel room, where a bandaged figure reclined on a bed. "Oh!" Natsuna was jolted into motion by the realisation that her guest was silently weeping. She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully pulled the injured girl into a hug, heedless of the tears that soaked into her silk blouse. "Oh, Minako..."
Aino Minako, burned and battered by the explosion she had narrowly escaped as Sailor V, clung as well as she could with one arm in a sling, and cried. It was partly shock wearing off, fear deferred coming back now that she was safe, relief that she survived -- even guilt for destroying her enemies -- but mostly, Natsuna suspected, it was heartbreak.
"It's not too late. I could call her back, tell her you just stumbled in, alive! We'll say a little old lady found you, dazed from the blast, and bandaged you up. She didn't have a radio or television, so she didn't realise people were looking for you! Everyone will be happy, we'll have a party, get you to a real doctor..."
Minako shook her head, not looking up. "No. It has to be this way."
"Why?" Natsuna kept her voice soft, moving one hand in soothing strokes down Minako's hair.
"I don't want her to feel guilty..." Much misery in that answer.
"She does feel guilty." Natsuna pulled back slightly, tilting her head to try to look at Minako's face. "She thinks you died --"
"That isn't what I mean." Minako groped blindly for the tissue box on the nightstand, sniffing. "She knew how I feel about Alan." She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. "Now she knows how he feels about her. She'll think, 'V would want us to be happy'." Her jaw set into a stubborn line. "And she's right. I do want them to be happy. I don't want to stand in the way of their love."
"But if they knew..."
"She wouldn't want to hurt me. Or him. So it's better this way."
Natsuna sighed and hugged her again, not sure if she agreed or not, but knowing just how obstinate Minako could be. "Let me get you some water." When she returned from the washroom with a damp facecloth for Minako's face and a bottle of water, she wondered aloud, "How are we going to get you home without someone realising?"
"Don't worry," Minako told her, smiling tiredly. "I'm a master of disguise."
.