The fight with Riventon has been over for awhile now. It's hard to tell how long, exactly. It's not easy keeping track of time when screams echo in your head.
She's not waiting for anyone. Kyouko went off for Kunzite or someone a bit ago, and the others left shortly after the fight. She vaguely recalls people talking around her, but each time someone would come near she'd tell them she's fine.
(Not that it was believable, mind you. If it was, the Oscar goes to Usagi for best darn performance of her life.)
Herss she wipes at her eyes with her left wrist, very much not sniffling thank you, she idly wonders if ambidexterity is hard to learn.
<PHONE> A text from Puella Magi Kyouko at Thu Sep 01 18:23:50 2016: hey uh that agera guy is floating over the stadium downtown with a big orange and black disco ball. it doesn't look.. dangerous, exactly? not sure how i should proceed given recent events
<PHONE> You text Puella Magi Kyouko: Providence defend us from Agera trying to help. If he starts something, feel free to finish it. If he's just doing something stupid, it'd probably be politic to try not to kill him.
<PHONE> You text Ami Mizuno: Report of Agera, I quote, "floating over the stadium downtown with a big orange and black disco ball." I hope you know what he's doing.
<PHONE> A text from Puella Magi Kyouko at Thu Sep 01 18:29:36 2016: roger. ill keep an eye out for now. if it looks like he's going to cross the line between dumb stunt and dangerous stunt, ill intervene
<PHONE> You text Puella Magi Kyouko: Thanks. Will join you if I can.
<PHONE> A text from Ami Mizuno at Thu Sep 01 18:49:28 2016: Crap, I'm out with my mom. No, that is super not okay. Don't tell him I told you to stop him, but uh ... stop him?
It takes time to move, these days. Tokyo's not a small city, and while Kunzite can still teleport, riding the currents of the earth is not as easy or quick as sidestepping through the Dusk Zone used to be. It's a small price to pay for not rotting his soul a little further with every crossing -- but it takes time.
Not a lot of time. It's only seconds since Cure Spark and Sky Jack left Moon alone, when he manifests in the stadium. But time, and too much time -- whatever happened here, it's already over. He tastes the leftover currents of power, shudders however faintly -- vanishes in shadow again and reappears beside Moon, dropping down to one knee beside her. "You're hurt."
In multiple ways.
At least she's not orange.
Sailor Moon jerks in surprise. A couple of months ago, this probably would be a bad situation. But, well, this is Kunzite and she just found a dead cat, so to speak.
Well, not quite.
Because then, even though her face would still crumble, the only warning Kunzite gets, she wouldn't have all but launched against him, arms going around his neck.
Drycleaning can take out tear salt, right?
And his ears will recover from the scream that tears from her throat as indescribable pain throbs in her wrist, right?
She's nearly incoherent, crying and gritting her teeth because ow, but her points may get through. Taka-baka's an idiot, her wrist really hurts, Ami-chan's going to be mad at her.
(In her right mind, the last probably wouldn't be there, but she's not exactly in her right mind now, is she. If she were, she'd also stop being stupid and letting a certain someone know she was hurt.)
She is painfully aware that she could have handled the entire thing differently.
Tear salt isn't even the worst thing that Kunzite's uniform has dealt with this week. The screaming, on the other hand -- well. Kunzite doesn't respond at once -- well, no. He doesn't respond out loud, at once. He gathers the tiny blonde into his arms and wills one more transition. Out of the stadium. Out of where everything happened. Somewhere else -- rooftops are forever convenient, and this one is high and out of the way, high enough that a sharp wind counters the heat and the humidity and makes it easier to breathe. The storms will be coming, very soon.
And now -- now that there's been movement that doesn't jar the wrist -- he can try to cut through the shrieks, to risk raising his own voice when he can't, quite, be certain how much he's doing to. "Ami's not going to be mad at you. She said to stop him. She knows he's an idiot."
Legs that should belong to someone several inches taller than she is wrap around Kunzite's waist as he moves through shadow and earth.
She sniffles as she nods, knowing it's true, but that's not quite the same as knowing.
"He was being a big idiot! A jerk!" She sniffles again and the fingers on her left hand curls into his shirt. "And I shoulda know better! But he was-- and then-- and Lacrima."
It's hard to hear the quieter words through the ringing in his ears, but there are only three words he really needs' to hear in all of them, and they're largely stressed. "Lacrima works for him," he says, trusting that she can hear him.'' And Lacrima's as blind as he is. More so; she only has memories to see by."
There's a moment of hesitation, and then he adds, "Let me take you to Mamoru, and see if he can help your arm?"
It's barely a question. But she's who she is, and hauling her off without her agreement -- more than immediately necessary, which getting her out of the stadium was -- isn't to be done.
"But she's stubbornly stupid! And and and so is he! And he's supposed to be smart, but he's the biggest dummy in the world! And not in the way--!"
Not in the way Mamo-chan is. But if she said it, she'd be thinking about him, and that would make it difficult to block him out.
Which, of course, Kunzite soon unknowingly points out the stupidity of that plan. What is she gonna do, hide somewhere until her wrist sets all wrong?
Smooth, Usa.
"I'll um..." She takes a breath, trying to not blast the system with 'AUGH IS THIS WHAT PAIN FEELS LIKE' before slowly opening that door.
And of course, as she does, she shifts.
And of course, 'AUGH IS THIS WHAT PAIN FEELS LIKE!'
Today...isn't really her day, is it.
Shifting and screaming again leads to Kunzite wincing, then -- intentionally -- locking his arms tighter around Moon.
So that he can reach the communicator on his left wrist.
"I hope you're still at home," he says to it, "because I'm taking Moon there. Don't bother trying to correct me if I'm wrong, I won't be able to hear you."
And then the pair of them are swallowed by darkness again, Kunzite trusting the disjoint blinks into existence and the pain when Moon shifts to keep her from gathering enough focus to actually try to resist.
The wailing will probably help with that, too.
And there's not likely to be any doubt about the moment of their arrival.
There is no doubt as to the moment of their arrival. Mamoru's waiting right there, legit already prepped for it with his hands over his ears, since the mental screaming was bad enough he figured the in-person variety would be even worse, and potentially even shatter windows if her odango-amps picked up on it.
"KEEP HOLDING HER," he shouts, then sighs and one hand goes on Kunzite's face and the other goes on Usagi's, and they can both hear him loud and clear and-- most importantly--
--calm and steady.
"De-henshin, Usa; it'll go faster if I can get at your wrist directly, and it'll hurt less if I don't have to take your glove off. Keep hold of her, Kunzite, so she doesn't try and hug me yet." It's affectionate, it's a little wry, but it's mostly practical and businesslike. The moment he's touching Sailor Moon, of course, the pain's already being replaced with sunlight; she might forget it's broken if it doesn't hurt.
Of course she's screaming.
Those little amps splutter with red light, not quite on, but not exactly off, either. There may be a crack in a window here or there, but nothing shatters.
If Mamoru hadn't touched her almost right away, there'd be glass everywhere.
She de-henshins when requested, regrets it right away, and splutters as her scream turns into ragged breathing. "J-jerk!"
(This is more for the hugging thing than anything. Rood! And yes, she's not focusing on the practicality of it.)
She slumps against Kunzite, a rag doll dressed for summer. And it's because she doesn't really feel much more than a dull throb at this point that she holds up her wrist to Mamoru, purple, bruised, and just really, really gross.
Rag doll is caught and held up -- arms around her even if they're entirely the wrong ones. Kunzite doesn't say a word. After all, that term's applicable to plenty of people, and plenty of things about this situation, even if the person she's using it on isn't actually being one right now.
There's a hint of a smile at Moon's calling him a jerk, and then Mamoru's hand is sliding from Kunzite's face to reach for the horribly bruised arm Usagi's holding up. He doesn't take the hand off her face until he's touching her arm, since letting go at all would make the throbbing turn into really nasty not-so-dull throbbing and horrendous ache.
"Ssh," he murmurs, and both of his hands are on her arm now, holding her wrist level as the dim glow starts, and suddenly the rest of the pain is gone. "Stay still, sweetheart," he warns absently, stressing it possibly more than necessary, but softening it for her. And then all of his concentration's on reducing the swelling, knitting together the hairline fracture enough so that it'll stay in place while--
"Okay," he says distractedly, "carefully-- couch? Can you get her one of the things left over from when Neph and I were driving you crazy at the same time? Just to tide her over until her own healing kicks in. I'll... I'll call your parents once you're a bit calmer. You should stay here tonight."
Usagi sniffles a little, resting her cheek on Kunzite's shoulder.
When he tells her to be still, her voice is petulant. "No."
Logically she knows she's lashing out! She'll feel really guilty for it later, and hug him in apologies. But she also knows that he knows that she doesn't mean it and loves her still anyway!
And she doesn't actually move until she looks up at Kunzite in confusion. "The things?" Suspicious eyebrows at her beloved. "Did you and Nephri-kun put dye in his shampoo bottle?"
How rude, that's supposed to be her prank on him!
She worries her lip in concern, though. "Um. You gonna call Daddy? Can you...leave out the broken limb thing? H-he, I don't want him to worry."
No, is it. Kunzite briefly considers whether it's possible for him to immobilize her wrist without interfering with Mamoru's power, but ... she's not actually moving. Oh. Well, then. He keeps her supported instead, stabilizing her until Mamoru's attention comes back from reconstruction. "Couch," Kunzite agrees then. That's the first step. Maneuvering tinyblonde gently to the couch without letting her put any weight on that wrist, or twist it oddly. Settling her, and then ... eyeing Usagi for a moment. Dye in his what. He lets go particularly carefully and goes in hunt of Where Zoisite Hid The We-Do-Not-Ask Things.
"No, dye doesn't stay in his hair anyway," Mamoru says with a crooked smile, then slides Kunzite a smirk before looking back at Usagi and reaching one hand to smooth her hair back from her face. "Just super duper aspirin. So super-duper that nobody's allowed to know where it is except Kunzite just in case it gets used up on toe-stubbings."
Then he's crouching next to the couch, and he's giving her peace and calm to hold onto, sunlight to bask in on the inside, that warmth-- all of it, just for her, this moment just for her and feeling like it could last forever, outside time. It's not that it's a lie, that feeling, it's just that it's also a distraction from him working a little more on her wrist, which takes a lot more power. He needs to get it to where a brace can actually hold it in place long enough.
It's also really good for the distressed heart.
Finally, he's just holding it, and the glow's dimmed to just a mild anaesthetic thing while they wait for Kunzite to find the stuff.
"I'm not going to lie to him. He'll know. But it's just a broken wrist, and it'll be all better by the next time you see him. Or he'll overrule you staying here, and come pick you up, and he can fuss over you a lot."
"Really? Drat." Whelp, there goes her idea.
She's put on the couch, where she wiggles a little until she's comfortable. She winces a little at the thought of taking super-duper aspirin on accident, especially for just a toe stub! "That...would probably be bad."
As he crouches near her, as she feels that warmth and sunlight and just about everything else, her sigh is long and deep as her muscles relax.
She's not okay. She knows she isn't. But she also knows that she will be okay. And having him here beside her only cements that knowledge.
Her fingers come up and sift through his hair, a little awkward because of the position and because it's not her dominant hand. This, too, is good for a distressed heart. Add them together, and it's probably one of the best things for it.
"I'm sorry." She doesn't specify what she's sorry for. Hiding her pain? Finally not hiding it? Taking him away from studying for his final college exam? Or something else?
She's not entirely sure, either, but it's something that feels right to say.
And then she winces again. "Okay...just. If he sounds murderous, remind him...I dunno."
Kunzite's return is quiet; no matter how tall he is, no matter how much attention that cape ought to draw (and no, he hasn't settled back down out of uniform yet), it's not a tenth of enough to distract from Mamoru's presence, from that soothing gold and his company and the feel of dark hair in her fingers.
It's just that when she winces, when it's natural to look away, Kunzite's waiting there to offer her a pill and a bottle of that pineapple soda that someone still-unknown filled the fridge with.
Grave expression. Uniform from before history. Cape. ... Pineapple soda.
(It is not entirely impossible that he might have chosen that mismatch on purpose, just to see if he could get her to laugh.)
"For having to talk to your dad? I forgive you," says Mamoru with a little laugh. And then Kunzite's back with relief and pineapple soda, and Mamoru's smile grows crooked. He moves slightly to one side, not letting go, so that the tall white-haired guardian can give her first the pill and then the soda to wash it down.
"It'll be fine," he reassures her, leaning to kiss her forehead. "He'll be happier I called and told him than if I didn't. It's up to him whether he'll come get you or let you stay over, though. Your mom will probably want to baby you, too. But don't worry, I won't let go until I know that stuff's kicking in, okay?"
There's a short, quick breath through her nose that may be a laugh. She doesn't, oddly enough, give Mamoru a Look.
However, Kunzite gets a smile and a soft 'heehee!'
There's a moment's worth of hesitation as she stares at the pill, nose a bit scrunchy. She's gonna hafta be quick.
Even though the soda's in her hand a few seconds after the pill in her mouth, she makes faces because it tastes gross!
(This could be psychosomatic. Medicine tastes gross. It's the law.)
She's quick to glug down the soda, swishing her mouth until it tastes like not-quite pineapple. After, she leans he forehead a little into the kiss, tongue sticking out because ew, medicine.
Of course, these antics probably point toward her feeling better than when she arrived, and not because of the wrist.
She sighs again. "Yeah." In the long run especially it's better her father know. But the doesn't mean she's going to enjoy the short run!
Then she gives a dreamy smile. "Mama's nice when I'm sick. All the forehead kisses a gal can want."
Kunzite lays a hand on her good shoulder for a moment, then extricates himself gently from the pair, stepping back. Convenient to the balcony. He doesn't actually let his uniform go in favor of jeans now, either. Just in case.
They don't know what happened yet, after all. And Riventon can act without thinking when angry enough -- and he knows one place important to Moon.
It's while Mamoru's still giving her that calm steadiness to cling to, that contact to absorb and that warmth to bask in-- it's before the medicine kicks in-- that Mamoru asks. It's also within earshot of Kunzite, even if he's stepped back.
"They love you so much," he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Even when they seem mean, it's not mean, is it? It's just because they care so much, and want the best for you." Then he lets out a breath. "What happened, Usako?"
It's a playful little tongue that gets stuck out at Mamoru. "I know that."
And she's always known that. Even when everything else was bleak, that was something she always knew.
Then she sighs and shrugs, shifting a little so she could sit up, just a touch.
Why did Riventon get such a reaction out of her?
Aside from that face that he was being a world class jerk.
"I don't know. I mean, I guess it being the first time I fought Riventon since I knew? And he said a bunch of mean stuff, and some of it's stuff I've thought, and--augh, Lacrima. I just wanna slap her until her hair poofs out. How can two people be so stubbornly stupid all the time like that?"
Then a switch in subject, a small step to the left, and not only because it's an important observation. Avoiding self analysis of why she lost her temper like that is always a bonus.
She sits up more, twisting to face him, careful as she can be with her wrist while distracted. "He had Peter Pan's shadow. Why I used the crystal? You know when Peter's shadow escapes and he tries to glue it back on with soap? It was kinda like that, only...inky."
"Lacrima is actually incapable of being other than stupid on the subject," Kunzite says. 'Stupid' is probably not the term he would use under any other circumstances -- but it's the one Usagi would understand. "But she's trying. She remembers pieces of what it's like to be a person, and she's trying to hold on to those."
Peter Pan's shadow he doesn't speak to. That one Mamoru can field.
"Mf. Wish we could set your ego in cast-iron, so that every jerkbag who tries to undermine you by poking your weak spots ends up with broken fingers," grumbles Mamoru. And then he shrugs one shoulder, nodding at what Kunzite says. "Also, you have to remember how shortsighted and monofocused on the wrong things dark energy makes people. And those two are really fixated on how right they are, and the dark energy makes it really easy for them to convince themselves that everyone else is wrong, if they give in to it. Sometimes even if they don't consciously give in to it."
Then he chews on his lip, squinting one eye. "Uhh. Peter Pan?"
She listens to them both, and there may be a giggle for Mamoru's new name for Takashi, but at the end of it she sighs. "I still wanna slap 'em."
And she tries to think, wondering how better to describe it. She twists her hair as she bites her lip, tilting her head to the side while regarding the ceiling.
Deep concentration. She has it.
Riventon's voice twists in a half-scream, half-snarl as the wave of energy from the crystal washes over him, and for a half-second of time, there's a shadow behind Riventon - some manifestation of negative energy forced out by the positive. And it's gone just as fast, dipping back in, the shadow and the physical merging.
And then she gives a helpless shrug. "I don't know. It didn't last long. It was more a blip. It could been an actual shadow."