Oh yeah, a note. I don't know what side of the road the Japanese drive on, and when I said that to my father, he told me it was the left, the same as New Zealanders do...gomen nasai if we're wrong!
Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics and Toei Animation.
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(The Wind Is Your Voice)
by Celeste Goodchild
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The wind had always been something to make the pain go away. It could be soft, soothing, it could be fast, raking long fingers through his hair, showing him that for even just a few moments, he could be free, as free as the enraged element of air.
He could be the wind - at least, on occasion.
Especially when he was in his Ferrari.
Ah, temptation. Nephrite was severely under the delusion that the large numbers at the end of the speedometer were not strictly for decoration. They were a challenge. Besides, if the car manufacturers had designed the blasted car to go that fast, why shouldn't he tempt the local omawarisan into giving him a speeding ticket?
Truly, the police could be so over sensitive some days. It was only a little bit of law-bending, to test the physical laws of kinematics and see how fast he could go. A little bit of harmless fun - but woe if a lowly pedestrian should come into view. Truth be told, Nephrite wasn't the least bit worried about hitting anybody. He had great faith in both his reflexes and his magical abilities. Besides, even if by some cruel twist of fate he should hit something living, death was the least of his worries. If in the event he did collide with living flesh, he'd probably just sue the victim's next of kin for damages. No-one dented his car with their prone bodies, at least, not without paying for it.
Nephrite had to laugh at the direction his thoughts were taking. How very peculiar of him. Though he had to admit to himself that it was a welcome respite from the other problems of his thoughts of late. Like Osaka Naru, for instance.
Scowling, Nephrite adjusted the brakes as he came up to one of the rare intersections on the coastal road, not far from the bustling hub of Tokyo. At this time of early evening though, the road was fairly quiet. The city's centre was quite a ways from this part, though he was still technically within the bounds of the sprawling city.
As he stopped beneath the red lights, he sighed impatiently, waiting for it to change. Just as he was finishing contemplating running the red light, another low-slung sports car peeled up behind him, barely halting two inches from the rear bumper of Nephrite's beloved car. The driver, whose features were indistinguishable in Nephrite's rear view mirror, suddenly slammed a fist down on their horn, irritating the Hell out of the Dark Kingdom denizen. Resisting the severe temptation to throw the car into reverse and show the other driver that he was quite the kamikaze driver, he slammed the accelerator to the ground and released the clutch. He was much too fond of his car to wreck it today - he was magical, his car was not.
He pealed out of intersection, the light still red. The other car was still directly on his tail, he noted with mild annoyance. It seemed he was not the only one who enjoyed a good testing of his car's acceleration abilities.
They continued for quite a ways down the road in this way, the rear driver severely tail gating Nephrite in excess of a hundred km/h. As they finally reached another deserted intersection, the driver cut into the lane beside Nephrite, the one designed for oncoming traffic. As they did so, they unwound their window, motioning for Nephrite to do the same. Nephrite, in a the left lane, wound his window down, as the blonde haired young man leaned across his passenger seat, a slightly predatory smile on his features.
"You're not a bad driver," he called across the small gap between them. "Most people would have let me overtake them miles back - but you took those corners at speeds that would make me a little reluctant." A smile of pure amusement crossed his features. "Still, though - it was fun. How about a real race?"
Nephrite was a little startled by the young man's challenge, but he didn't allow it to show. "Do you really think you could seriously beat me in some kind of race?"
The young man cocked an eyebrow, daring him to decline. "I don't think so, old man - I know so."
"I'm probably a lot younger than you think. You're on." He looked up, and noted that the lights had changed from red to green to red again in the time they had spoken. "When the lights are green?"
"Hai." The window slid up, the engine of the opposing car rumbling ominously.
The light turned green.
Slamming the accelerator down as he released the clutch, Nephrite found himself imbued with a rush of adrenaline. So excited was he, he almost laughed at himself. All he was doing was racing a young, stupid human, why did it make him feel like he was so...alive. Like the wind...
He had to marvel at the younger man's impeccable handling of his own car - he managed to keep head to head with Nephrite, seemingly with very little effort. He must had some nerve, too - he was driving down a windy cliff side road at a ludicrously high speed on the wrong side of the road.
Nephrite sighed, and turned his attention back to his own driving, which though just as maniacal as his opponent's, was slighter safer in the respect he didn't have to worry about oncoming traffic.
As they continued to thunder down the winding road, he began to wonder just how long the other driver was planning to make this go for. They hadn't mentioned an end to it, so Nephrite smiled tightly to himself. It was obviously a psyche-out kind of game - whoever lost his nerve first.
This kid has got to be kidding, if he thinks I'm going to lose some stupid little psychological game with him...I am a virtual master of manipulation...look at Osaka Naru.
Nephrite guided the car easily around another bend, coming on to a rather unusual straight. Such stretches of road were fairly rare on this particular route.
A sleek black sedan rounded the corner up ahead and began to head down towards the reckless pair.
Nephrite cursed soundly, then suddenly laughed at his own paranoia. Must be losing my touch - maybe I really am getting old. This was his antagonist's problem, not his. Smirking slightly, he turned his head slightly, fully expecting to see that his little friend had dropped behind, like any good little safe driver.
His jaw dropped.
The young driver was still at his side, the pair of them still racing towards the other car, who also didn't seem on the verge of stopping. After all, the black sedan had right of way.
Maybe the kid's an arrogant American who has forgotten he's in Japan now. Nephrite cursed again, but stubbornly refused to slow his speed. If the little kyoosoo no untenshu wanted to commit suicide, who was he to interrupt their kamikaze run?
The other car was now close, only a few seconds having passed. Nervously, Nephrite looked over again, noticing that nothing had changed with the other driver. He really was insane.
"Shit," he muttered, but he still didn't slow down. If worst came to worst, he could risk a huge expenditure of energy and warp his car and himself out of any potential smash. The three cars were still unchanged in position, and Nephrite tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Suddenly, the car beside him pulled forward, closer to the car in front. Nephrite's eyes widened, wondering just what in the Hell was going on. The blaring of the other car's horn shattered the tense silence - not that Nephrite could blame the driver. The irregular bursts of sound belied a panicked driver, though it seemed both he and his erstwhile companion were doing just fine.
The cars were definitely too close for comfort - a smash was inevitable, Nephrite thought. This was just ridiculous.
The other driver, with an amazing burst of speed, suddenly pulled ahead of Nephrite, and to his shock, pulled across lanes in front of him, the black sedan speeding by on his right barely more than a second later. Nephrite slammed on the brakes, trying desperately to avoid hitting the car in front of him - more out of concern for his own car than theirs.
The car continued onward for a little further, before pulling off the road into a small look out bay, grinding easily to a halt centimetres from the railing in front of the cliff. Without thinking, Nephrite did the same. It was as if he had to do so. He reasoned with himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt that is was because he wanted to meet his reckless companion. Somehow though, he felt there was actually another reason. One he hadn't even considered.
The other man had already abandoned his car, and was leaning his tall frame on the railing, looking out across the bay. His sandy hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, and his voice was husky and low as he addressed Nephrite without turning. "I take it I won that particular race?" He sounded as if he were smiling.
Oh, yes? And what does a smile sound like? Huh, Neffy-chan?
Ignoring this little voice, Nephrite smiled tightly. "I take it you've already decided, am I correct?"
A low laugh escaped his throat as he turned - and his aquamarine eyes, a cross between green and blue, widened slightly. "I recognise you - you're Sanjouin Masato, aren't you?"
Raising an eyebrow, he nodded, moving to stand beside the young man at the railing. "Hai. How did you know?"
He snorted. "Intuition." Nephrite wondered why that remark was oddly unsettling - like there was a word missing from it, a word that could mean a lot.
"I take it you like to race?" he asked slowly, looking over at his handsome profile.
The young man cast him a surprised look, smiled hesitantly, and looked back to the sky. "Boku wa kaze ni naritai..."
"Excuse me?" asked Nephrite, looking to the young man again. He noted how even though the young man was very handsome, there was an almost feminine grace about the way he moved on occasion. It was something that reminded him a little of Zoisite, though admittedly, that little sakura didn't really look like a man - unlike this youth.
"I want to become the wind," he repeated, and he turned almost laughing eyes on the 'young business man.' "Have you ever just wished you could fly away, and just be free of everything on this planet?"
Startled, he gave the handsome young man a perplexed look. "What do you mean?"
The boy laughed, slightly cynically. "Is your life really so perfect, Sanjouin-san?"
The use of his alter-ego's name startled him further, and finally provoked him into asking the youth his name. "Onamae wa?"
The boy looked up, a slight smile tinting his features. "Ten'ou Haruka."
"Doozo yoroshiku, Haruka," replied Nephrite with a slight smile, even though he wasn't really very pleased to meet the young man. It was just general politeness. "Do you usually challenge strangers when you're driving around town?"
The young man laughed out loud at that, and smiled again, though he still seemed rather melancholy. "Not usually, no. I get enough competition on the race track, though occasionally, I do have to tempt fate and live a little dangerously."
"You're skating the edge," remarked Nephrite, taking in the young man's features with barely disguised curiosity. He couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something about the young man that unsettled him. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
"I am the edge," replied Haruka without smiling, and he then ran his hand through his hair in what Nephrite decided was a decidedly feminine gesture. With a start, he realised that this was what was irritating him, niggling at the back of his mind. "Are you..."
"Nanii?"
"You're a woman, aren't you?" The voice, he realised, was another not too subtle clue. Haruka had a deep voice, but when he or she grew melancholy, it became decidedly feminine. "Aren't you?"
Haruka grinned. "Very good, Sanjouin-sama. Most people don't pick up on that unless I tell them. You'll have to tell me, what gave me away?"
Nephrite shrugged. "I suppose I'm just perceptive."
The young woman snorted. "And wonderfully modest. I didn't insult your manhood by kicking your ass in that drag race, did I? I'm always up for a rematch."
"I bet you are," Nephrite replied dryly, though he did admire the spunk of this girl. She had real chutzpah - he found himself thinking that she would make a much better Sailor Senshi than that klutz Sailor Moon.
Senshi...senshi...why does this girl remind you of the Sailor Senshi all of a sudden?
Nephrite brushed aside the irritating voice, trying to push thoughts of the pigtailed so-called 'heroine' from his mind. She was only one little girl - what could she do to him?
Haruka seemed to notice his change in mood, and her blue-green eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him. "Is that a polite declination of my offer, Sanjouin-san?"
"It would appear so," he replied dryly, moving back slowly from the railing. He looked towards his car, and decided that enough was enough. This strangely surreal little meeting had reached its somewhat sour conclusion.
"Matte."
He turned back to the girl with an annoyed look, his pale sapphire eyes narrowing in exasperation. "Why do you ask me to wait, Ten'ou-san?"
Haruka, still leaning against the railing, crossed one elegant ankle over the other, her face moving into an almost insidious smile. "Why, Sanjouin-san, I don't believe I asked you to wait. I told you to wait."
Cocking an eyebrow, Nephrite stared at the girl from his standing position. She continued to smile her oddly unsettling smile, her sandy short hair set on fire by the falling sun. He wondered if she was laughing at him. "Is that so?"
"It's always so." Haruka chose that moment to stand up straight, her tall svelte form outlined by the setting sun. She seemed to regard him critically from her own vantage point, and it seemed to Nephrite that they stared at each other for a long time.
What is it about this girl? Why does she remind you so strongly of...of the Sailor Senshi?
"You never answered my question," she said in a deceptively soft voice. Her unusual aquamarine eyes seemed to flash a calm warning. "Do you want to try your hand at a rematch? Just to prove that you're not always beaten by a girl?"
The mocking in her voice made his hackles bristle, but it was not because of the fact that she had beaten him - it was the allusion she made, completely unaware that she was doing it...all his plans were thwarted by a mere slip of a girl.
"Sanjouin-san?" Her voice seemed to come to him from a million miles away, as she moved slightly closer to him on the lookout of the road. "You're not a okubyoo-mono...are you?"
The insult startled Nephrite out of his comatose state of thought, his eyes snapping icy fire as he glared at the smirking girl. "No, I most certainly am not, Ten'ou-san!" he replied nastily, before turning to stalk back to his car.
As he made to do so, Haruka grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him dead in his tracks. The Dark King was so shocked by this move on her part, he simply halted, and did not turn.
He felt the tall woman move closer to his side, and lean towards him. Her lips were only centimetres from his ear when she finally spoke in her husky drawl.
"Sí an ghaoth do ghuth,
Sí an bháisteach do dheora,
Grian, do chroí ar las,
Do spiorad mo shlánú."
Haruka then released his hand, and sauntered casually away. As she slipped with easy elegance into her own car, she turned back to him, her eyes almost friendly.
"I called you a coward, Sanjouin-sama. Somehow, though, I think I was wrong." She smiled then, and then her face took on an almost melancholy look. "I wonder...I wonder why I hope I was. Ja ne, Sanjouin-san. Keep a look out - I know, evil is always where you forget to look."
She pulled out of the lookout point easily, the car vanishing around the corner in a matter of seconds.
Nephrite listened to the car go, and he looked back to the setting sun. And he thought.
It was strange how this young girl, who had raced with him so easily, and treated him like dirt in the process, could speak such eloquent words. Words that her eyes had demanded he speak to some kind of God, to seek some absolution.
The wind is your voice,
The rain is your tears,
Your burning heart
And spirit is my salvation.
Sometimes, he thought this insanity would never end.
He slowly walked away, back to his car, and climbed in. Switching on the ignition, he revved the engine several times before peeling out of the parking space. And he wondered - wondered how that girl had spoken so simply in another language. How had he understood her, when he himself didn't even know precisely what language she had spoken in? It was like the voices in the wind...they spoke to him in a language he could hear, but understood only with the deepest part of himself.
Sometimes, he wondered if he was going insane. What could he possibly care about gaining some freakish salvation from a God he didn't even believe in? Why should he worry about an absolution he didn't even deserve? For surely to wish for such a thing would be pure insanity. Who needed their foolish Gods, and their even more ridiculous forgiveness?
Sometimes, though, he wished he would go insane.
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So, what do you think of this little mess? Too peculiar? Well, excuse me for saying so, but I AM peculiar, therefore it is rather evident in my writing...then again, you didn't NEED to be told that, did you?!
Comments to make? Don't be a stranger now, send 'em to luna_dreamscape@hotmail.com I love email!
Oh, note - kyoosoo no untenshu means "racing driver." Ja ne, minna! *giggle*