Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Waking Ami ❯ Makoto ( Chapter 7 )

Waking Ami

"Makoto"

Poepah@yahoo.com

Ami gasped in pleasant surprise as she left her apartment to leave for school. Juni Asagai was leaned up against the hood of her elegant sports car. She was smiling shyly at Ami and holding a single long stemmed rose. The younger woman's pulse rose as she practically floated over to her friend.

"Good Morning." Juni found herself blushing upon seeing the young woman she had fallen in love with.

Ami stopped short of throwing her arms around her teacher, the boldness from the night before had fled, replaced by her usual shyness. It's not that she regretted anything the night before, quite the opposite actually. She had acted out of desperation; afraid that what was happening between them was going to disappear when the night was over. A smile eased it's way onto her face, the fact that her friend was standing in front of her now erased the irrational fear that last night was a dream or a fluke.

"Juni… Wha… What are you doing here?" Ami blushed sweetly as she tripped over her words. Juni's presence was unexpected in a wonderful way and was proving to be a bit distracting.

The young genius's blush deepened as Juni slowly leaned down to her. Their lips met in a passionate greeting, as Juni placed the rose she held into Ami's hand. When they separated Juni gently cupped Ami's cheek gazing into her friend's eyes.

"What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you start your first day back to school by yourself?" Juni playfully kissed Ami again before leaning back up.

Ami's eyes began to tear, as emotions overwhelmed her. Just a few months ago, she had been alone, and depressed. Now she had Juni, a best friend, a girlfriend, someone who cared enough to show up with a rose and a kiss on a day that would have otherwise sucked.

"Thank you, Juni!!" Ami threw her arms around her friend, tears now freely streaming down her face. Juni returned the tight embrace, a few tears escaping from her as well. The wonderful feeling of belonging settled over both women. An alien feeling that after today neither woman ever wanted to live without.

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"Good Morning…"

"Ah, It is wonderful to hear from you how are…"

"What was that?"

"Ok, Ok, calm down. Now tell me exactly what you saw."

"Hmmm… I understand, and you see no other alternative?"

"Very well, I trust in your visions and in you my granddaughter. I will do what you ask of me. In the meantime, tell me how things have been. I haven't heard from you in over a month."

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"Remember Makoto, the next time you screw up, regardless of the reason you will go to jail until you are twenty-one." Shinozaki Kenjo spoke in a weary voice. He ran a hand through his slightly graying hair, as he studied the young woman sitting across the room from him. She was close to five-eight, five-nine, and had green eyes and tangled brown hair, a testament to her mixed heritage.

Even at such a young age she had a look of tired understating. If you studied her, it was obvious that she was someone who has seen and done a lot, most of which you would pray to never have to go through. That Makoto led a hard life was not in question. Because of that, this was the fifth time she was being released from Juvenile Detention. As far as anyone in authority was concerned this was her last chance to become a useful citizen.

Shinozaki has been working as a parole officer for over twenty years; during that time he has seen it all. The defiant teen sitting in front of him was trapped in the same scenario he had seen countless times in his past. Orphaned at a young age, chewed up by the foster system, and in the end trying to raise herself. Unfortunately, there is only so much a young person can do by herself. More often than not it led down a criminal route. In the case of the teen in front of him, frequent assault and battery intermixed with a load of trespassing, breaking and entering, and petty larceny charges.

From what he knew of her, which admittedly wasn't a whole lot, Shinozaki was convinced that the young woman in front of him was someone who under better circumstances could be an outstanding valuable member of society. It was just a matter of steering the girl in the right direction and removing her from the element that kept leading her down the wrong path. Of course, as an underpaid civil servant there was only so much one could do.

"Now I have tried my best to help you out, but frankly the judge is tired of seeing your face in her courtroom." The aging parole officer frowned at his charge's bored expression. "You need to take this seriously Makoto, I don't want to see you throw your life away and become just another street thug."

"What do you care old man? What does it matter how "trash" like me turns out." Makoto yelled out at her parole officer. Annoyed at her own outburst, she slumped down into her chair crossing her arms over her chest.

"If you keep referring to yourself as such, then it will be easy for you to believe that it is true." Shinozaki gathered himself for a moment before addressing the girl in front of him. When he did it was in all seriousness, his words, expression, everything he controlled to impress upon Makoto the importance of what he was trying to tell her.

"If you continue down this road it will lead to nothing but hardship, and an early grave. Trust me Makoto, I have seen it happen many, many times." The older man sighed. "I have been your parole officer for over six years now Makoto, ever since your first offence when you were eleven years old. Despite the choices you have made since then, I strongly believe that given the chance, you could turn around and give yourself a future."

Makoto snorted in disbelief, but a part of her wanted to believe this man in front of her. She knew what he was saying was true. She just didn't know how she could change her path, especially when society already had her labeled as "trash".

"How?" Makoto surprised herself by asking. Even this small question, was hard for her to ask. To say that Makoto was a bit hardheaded and untrusting would be a gross understatement. This came from a life of disappointments and betrayals, it was easier, safer to just rely on yourself.

Knowing how hard the concession was on Makoto's part Shinozaki hastened to explain. "You need to have a goal and a means of achieving it."

The teen rolled her eyes at this.

"It's not as hard as you might think, first find yourself a job. Anything legal will do, even if it's washing dishes or gutting fish. You need to find an honest way of making money. I know you will try leave your appointed foster family as soon as you arrive, do you have another place to stay?"

Makoto looked surprised at first, wondering how her parole officer would know of her plans. That is until she realized that she had made a habit of it, she hasn't trusted any of the court appointed families for some time now, and always left at the first opportunity. "Yeah."

Makoto replied. "I have someplace I can crash."

Shinozaki shook his head, correctly assuming that Makoto was probably going to be living on the streets again, sleeping wherever she could find shelter. "I can offer you the use of my address and phone number while you are applying for jobs. I urge you to take me up on that. As for what else you could do. You need to get some type of education, even if you end up going to a third rate College or a trade school. That at least will help provide for your future."

"The rest is up to you." The older man looked strait into the troubled teen's eyes as he continued. "It is not an easy path that lies before you Makoto. But in the long run it is the best for your future. Please give consideration to what I have told you today."

Both Shinozaki and Makoto stood and gave a slight bow to each other. More accurately, the aging parole officer bowed, wile the teen barely nodded her head. As Makoto turned to leave Shinozaki stopped her.

"Please Makoto, promise that you will at least try. Don't make me see you off to jail, or attend your funeral. You are better than that Makoto. I believe in you, please believe in yourself."

Makoto gave the older man another brief nod and left his office, his words weighing heavily upon her mind. ::You believe in me? Why old man? Why would you believe in a useless girl like me?::

The teen's thoughts were broken as she spotted her court appointed foster dad waiting for her across the street. ::If the judge thinks I am going to trust more of you assholes, then she is dead wrong.:: As soon as she was sure the patiently waiting man wasn't looking, Makoto ran from her concealment into a nearby alley. Even after four months of incarceration, she easily remembered where all the shortcuts led.

The fleeing teen hadn't gone more than a quarter mile when she suddenly felt herself crashing into someone. Instead of the violent stop she was expecting, she found herself being enveloped into a very familiar hug, one that she found herself eagerly returning.

"FLOWER BOY!" A few tears escaped the girl's eyes as she hugged her longtime friend and confidant. The two had met when Makoto had run away from her second foster home. Since then they lived together wherever they could find shelter and were the only person the other completely trusted.

"Dear Makoto, I have been so worried. I leave for a month and when I come back I find that you were arrested." The young man who held Makoto in his embrace was crying freely now, his emotions overcoming him. "I didn't know what happened or how long you were going to be gone. I was so worried. God I am so happy you are safe."

"I am Fiore, I am." Makoto was also crying now, the joy of being reunited with her friend, breaking her normally stoic façade. In truth Fiore was the only person in the world that Makoto would show tears to. They had been through "everything" together, and after she had been arrested the last time, she was not sure if she was ever going to see him again.

Makoto pulled her friend down into a long hungry kiss, which he hesitantly then passionately returned.

"Thank you for caring flower boy, and thank you for finding me." Makoto sniffed; as her friend reached down to dry a few tears that had fallen to her cheeks. Time flew by as the two reunited friends held each other until the tears subsided.

"C'mon Makoto lets go home, we have a lot of catching up to do." Fiore kissed his friend once upon the forehead before wrapping an arm around her and leading her home.

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::A young girl, barely twelve ran through the empty park. Her matted brown hair clung to her torn nightgown and battered face, as rain pored down upon her. Tears streamed down her face as pain both physical and emotional assaulted her. She had been running barefoot through the city for over two hours now. Finally exhaustion and the pain from her torn feet caused her to stumble.

Looking around, the young girl could scarcely make out where she was in the dark and the rain. A clap of thunder sounded as lightning illuminated the night. The young girl made out an old bench sitting across a huge bed of flowers. Tired and miserable the girl drug herself under the bench trying to protect herself from the elements that she could only now feel.

She screamed. Loud and long she screamed until her throat was cracked and bleeding. Even then, incoherent sounds escaped from her damaged mouth. Images kept assaulting her, haunting her, Images of the third man she would call father. Images of him hitting her, biting her, hurting her. The pain he caused was all over, welts from his hungry teeth, bruises from his unforgiving fists, and an indescribable pain both physical and mental, caused by his ruthless drunken "passion".

Another bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the flowerbed across from the girl. Only this time something was there, someone was there. As the light faded the young girl strained to see a form materializing out from the flowers. It was a beautiful young man. No, it was an angel. That was the only way she could describe the phantom that had come to claim her soul.

As the angel came closer, the young girl could make out his features more clearly. Clothed in tattered pants and flower wreathes, he was a little taller than she, and seemed to be near the same age. His skin was a pale color almost pure white, while his hair was a mixture of two colors, neither of which were natural. His long hair framed an ethereally beautiful face, which housed almond shaped eyes and thin pointed ears.

The young girl smiled at the angel as he drew near. Her lip split open again, causing her pain to once again come into focus. The angel spread his arms as the girl tried to scream again.

"Please, let me help you." The angel looked upon her with a concerned, compassionate gaze.

The young girl believing this to be an offer to go to heaven threw herself into his arms. Her thoughts seemed to be a reality as the two of them were bathed in a blue glow, and the scent of roses.

It would be four days before the young girl woke up. And it would be months after that until she spoke. The weeks that passed were hard, and full of emotional and mental anguish. The only thing that kept her alive, and sane, was the comforting presence of the "flower angel". For three moths he cared for her, for the many wounds that his healing embrace could not cure. The physical ones were easy; it was the mental scars that took time, and patience. Lucky for the young girl, the "flower angel" was happy to supply both.::

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By the time Makoto was fully awake, it was nearing two o'clock in the afternoon. After several hours of lovemaking, the two friends had fallen into a brief slumber. Fiore with much regret, had to leave an hour earlier to do some odd jobs. When he left he was once again disguised in his "normal" form. Makoto hated the fact that he had to disguise himself, but his appearance or more importantly his power and heritage had made him a target of many since he was young.

Fiore's race was not of any concern to Makoto. He could be an alien for all she knew, and it wouldn't make the slightest difference in the way she felt about him. This beautiful man had come into her life when she was at her lowest, and has been there ever since. Helping, supporting, and comforting her came natural to him, and not once did he ask anything in return.

That's not to say that she couldn't take care of herself. Fiore had made sure that should anything ever happen to him she would be able to fend for herself. Pick pocketing, lock picking, evasion, these were all practical skill that one who lived on the streets, or in their case abandoned buildings, needed to survive.

He also taught her about plants, his passion. A passion, and hobby that she was becoming more and more fond of herself. No matter where they lived, the two of them would always have at least one flower with them. Makoto had asked her friend once about why he needed to have a garden anywhere he went. The only answer she would get was, "Because I promised him a flower more magnificent than any he would ever see." She knew this was in reference to a promise Fiore made to the young man he had fallen in love with years before.

She had seen him a few times, this Mamoru. He was a good-looking man, if you liked the type. Personally she preferred her friends beautiful soft features to the rugged handsomeness of his love. Not that Mamoru knew anything of it. From what Fiore had told her, he hasn't let the older boy see him since they had first separated over ten years ago. Even though he would say it was because he promised Mamoru a, "perfect flower" or something along those lines. Makoto suspected that her friend was afraid of rejection, especially if he ever revealed his true form and powers to his unrequited love.

The emotionally weary teen finally roused herself from the old futon. Grabbing her clothes she made her way to the shower Fiore had said was in the back. Even though the tile was missing and more than a few bugs skittered around Makoto was thrilled to have a working shower. Not even the heavily rust tinged water dampened her mood. As Makoto washed herself with a variety of stolen toiletries, her thoughts drifted to her future.

She thought of what she was going to do, how was she going to avoid going to jail again. ::Shinozaki mentioned me getting a job.:: Makoto remembered the phone number and address of her parole officer stored away in her jean pocket.

::Yeah, I could do that, maybe something steady too. I'll be able to support Fiore for a change.:: The older boy had helped her in any way he could, but Makoto still had to fend for herself on a great many things. It was impossible for her friend to have a steady job. His powers still made him a target, and he was paranoid that the people who held him in his youth were still looking for him. If she could get a job, then just maybe she could make it so the two of them could have a chance at a decent future.

Of course if Fiore did ever get together with his love, then she would have a way to fully support herself. Makoto smiled as she stepped out of the shower. ::All right, a job it is then!:: The tall brunette was steadily getting into a better mood; her time with her friend played no small part in that. The recently freed teen still had a lot of issues she would need to work through. She figured she could sit around moping all day, of course if she did she probably wouldn't have any dinner. Or, she could go out and get something done.

Makoto looked down at her appearance. She was dressed in an old green flannel shirt covering an off white t-shirt, a ragged pair of jeans, and an old pair of sneakers. ::Hmm, I should go by a good will, maybe I can get another outfit or two.::

As she was preparing to leave Makoto caught something out of the corner of her eye. The older teen smiled as she spotted her friend's makeshift garden. It was a small rectangular planter sitting in the light provided under a broken window. Five beautiful flowers inhabited the container. The teen kneeled beside it and marveled at the talent of her friend. None of these flowers would be of an existing variety; her friend had developed a way of using his powers to make them unique.

::That Mamoru will be one lucky man someday. I just hope my Angel will have the courage to face him.:: With one last look at the planter, Makoto turned to leave. The teen's mind already turning to what jobs she might actually have a possibility to land.

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Makoto sighed as she sat down to eat her bowl of chicken udon. Months in prison she found, had made her pick pocketing skills a little rusty. Escaping her pursuers after the detected pinch was interesting to say the least. ::At the very least I got some food. Afternoons not a total waste yet.::

The tall brunette had been job searching for the last several hours and has had no success. Her age and dubious past were playing a bigger role in her ability to find a job than she had originally thought. When she had left earlier in the afternoon, she had felt really positive about the whole idea. Now her usual insecurities were starting to flare up, which efficiently squashed the confidence and excitement she did manage to muster.

Silently paying for her noodles, the distraught teen slowly made her way back to the alleys. "Shit." An old bottle was sent flying as Makoto kicked it out of her way. ::Who am I kidding anyway? I haven't ever had a real job before, why did I think it would be easy to get one now? God I'm pathetic, even Flower Boy is able to find odd things to do.::

The teen slumped against a "cleaner" looking portion of the alley wall as she considered her options. She spared a small smile thinking of her friend and how he had been able to find light work in exchange for the silence of the man who owned the abandoned building they lived in. Eventually he had plans to restore it, but until then he didn't mind having one or two people there to watch out for the place.

::Let's see, I tried the old bakery, several restaurants, and that weird pet store.:: Shivers ran down her spine as Makoto remembered the zoned customers and creepy looking "bunny things" that the store was peddling. ::At least it smelled nice.::

Hearing people approaching Makoto instinctually hid herself behind a dumpster. Years of avoiding police, botched pick pocket attempts, and other vagrants, had made the older teen more than a little paranoid. ::Better paranoid than busted.:: The voices and ruckus grew louder as they entered into her alley. Makoto became dead still willing herself to blend into her hiding spot as much as possible.

She wanted to remain hidden; her better instincts said that is what she should do. After all she was out on parole, the smallest thing could send her back to detention for four years. Still, the scene playing out before her was tragically familiar to someone who lived off the streets. The intent of the three men toward the terrified looking girl they shoved to the ground was obvious.

::Sorry Flower Boy, I can't just watch this. Take care, my friend.:: Makoto held no illusions that she had even the slightest chance of beating the three men in front of her. Her goal was to scare them off or at the very least allow time for the other girl to escape. Even though the girl was a stranger to the older teen, Makoto would not stand by and watch as her personal nightmare played out in front of her.

Grabbing an old plank next to her, the tall teen let out a deep cry as she leapt from her concealment. The man directly in front of her, who was pinning a smaller teen to the ground, had no time to react as the heavy piece of wood shattered on the back of his head. This was quickly followed by Makoto's boot relieving him of a few of his teeth.

Makoto looked up at the other two men with a fire in her dark green eyes. They had reacted faster than she had hoped. Stoically accepting the first blow, she knew without a doubt, this was not a fight she was going to win. Her last thoughts before letting the rush of the fight take over were of the girl she was helping, and the friend she was leaving behind.

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"Taxi!!! Taxi!!!" A short old man waved his hands frantically at the passing cars. Finally one had stopped, and the bald man practically threw himself into the back seat. He quickly rattled off some instructions and made sure that the driver understood that time was of the utmost importance.

::If I don't get there in time my granddaughter will never forgive me. Please, let me arrive in time!::

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