A Time to Heal
by
Naia Zifu
A gentle rain fell like tears
over the barren field below. Just a few years ago it would've
glowed with the vibrant greens of grasses and trees, sprinkled with
the warm reds and yellows of wildflowers, until Galaxia's forces
turned it into a wasteland.
"It hardly
even feels like home anymore," I said with a sigh.
"Sitting here watching won't make it grow any faster,"
Maker's voice said from behind me. "Come in out of the
rain before you catch cold."
"I'll be
there in a minute," I answered distractedly.
She waited silently a moment more before heading back inside,
leaving me alone again.
I closed my eyes and
just let the rain wash over me, hoping it would wash those wicked
thoughts out of my mind. All we went through to find our
princess; singing ourselves hoarse day after day, signing autographs
until our hands were sore, press junkets, acting lessons to expand
our career into television and film, even taking roles in a musical
stage. . . Yet now that we have her back, now that we can
finally start to rebuild our beautiful world, it's the concrete
jungle of Earth I find myself longing for. And though I would
still defend our princess with my life, as befits my duty as her
Senshi, it's to another princess on the other end of the galaxy I've
given my heart.
I returned, cold, wet, and
shivering, to the one section of castle still left standing.
With canvas tarp over the missing sections of wall and doorways that
no longer lead anywhere, and the remains of once-grand vases catching
the rain that dripped through holes in the ceiling, this had become
our temporary base of operations. Here we planned the recovery
of our ravaged world. . . or one of us did, anyway. Since our
arrival it seemed all Fighter did was sit out in that field
daydreaming, while Healer spent all her time trying on clothes she'd
found in the shattered window of a shop downtown.
I
sat down at the old dining table turned workstation and put on a pair
of sophisticated-looking glasses. They were non-prescription; I
don't need them in my Senshi form, but I've found wearing them helps
me concentrate, as if placing frames around my field of vision keeps
my mind focused on the task at hand. I find myself wearing them
a lot lately; we can't all afford to live a life of daydreams if
we're to have any hope of reviving our world.
What a nightmare! Even in this, the fluffiest, most
elegant petal-pink ballgown in the store, it's still no use.
Whenever I look in the mirror, it's him I see. He's not even
real, yet he's stolen my identity, that idol, and I hate him for
it.
I can't tell the others-- I just know
they'd laugh. They're readjusting so well to being girls
full-time again. How ironic that I, arguably the most feminine
of us three, would be the only one to have trouble with this.
I sighed deeply, shaking my head, as I unzipped the gown,
struggling out of it and the heavy crinoline slip I wore underneath.
Soon only a satiny, yellow floral-printed bra and panties
covered my slender yet well-endowed female form. A near-perfect
body, I'd once thought-- not everyone could be blessed with such a
chest at my weight! Now I can't even look at myself in the
mirror without flashing back on that awful male form instead.
"Go away," I shouted at the mirror, "I don't
wanna be you anymore!"
So was that a
desperate cry for psychiatric help, or just a makeover?
I frowned as I emerged from my makeshift bedroom to find Maker
alone, poring over blueprints. The others must still have been
out.
Maker had been outside, too; the rain had
washed the gel from her hair, so it hung in a charming shag style
rather than her usual slick, conservative look. I rather liked
it that way.
"Any progress?" I asked
gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Maker
took off her glasses to rub her tired eyes.
"Not
much, I'm afraid. There's just so much to do, I don't know how
I'll ever finish it alone."
"You're
not alone, Maker," I said, stroking her still-damp hair.
"You have the others."
"For all
the help they are," she complained. "Perhaps if you'd
revive some of our people to help. . ."
"But
where would they stay, and what would they eat? No, we've
barely got enough food and shelter for ourselves right now. I
can't bring anyone else back until we've made at least some progress
ourselves."
Maker sighed. "I
understand."
Without another word of
complaint, she put her glasses back on and got back to work.
I went to the door and stood peering out into the storm,
looking for some sign of the others. Lightning flashed in the
distance and I hoped, if they weren't coming back tonight, they'd at
least found a safe place to wait out the storm.
A
canvas tarp covering a hole in the wall rustled, alerting me to
Healer's entrance.
Though she arrived in her
fuku, there was no denying she'd been into town; her hairstyle was
noticeably different, and though its exact colour was hard to tell
while wet, it was definitely some deep shade of red.
"Feeling better now?" I asked.
"A
little," Healer said with a shrug. "It's
different."
"And I suppose looking
'different' was your goal?"
"Something
like that."
She didn't elaborate, and I
didn't press the issue. When she was ready to talk, she would
come to me, I assumed.
"Well, now that
you're here, I think Maker could use some help with those
blueprints," I said.
Healer took her place
at the table without argument, while I resumed my quiet vigil at the
doorway.
"So what're we doing?"
Healer asked.
"Well, I'm making out
blueprints for a displaced persons' shelter," Maker retorted,
"while you, as usual, have been wasting your day goofing off in
town."
"Don't start with me, all
right? I've had a rough day!"
"What's
wrong, had a hard time deciding between red and blue?"
I frowned. My Starlights used to get along so well.
They were almost like sisters! What could have happened back on
Earth to set them so against one another?
"Silly
Seiya, you've misunderstood. There never was anything between
Mamoru-san and me," Usagi said, stroking my face. "It
was you I really wanted all along."
She
was just leaning in to kiss me when I was startled awake by a huge
thunderclap. I hurried back to what remained of the castle,
grumbling the whole time about my ruined dream. Just when it
was getting to the good part. . .
Kakyuu-princess was waiting for me, her gown a bit wet from standing
in an open doorway in this driving rain.
"Fighter,"
she cried, embracing me, "thank the stars! I was worried
about you, stuck out in the storm all alone."
"I'm fine, Highness," I assured her. "And
the others?"
Kakyuu-princess gestured to
the table, where Maker sat working feverishly as usual. I swear
she could rebuild the whole world on her own if she had to!
Just beside her, pretending to understand the blueprints she was
reading upside down, I hardly recognised Healer in her new burgundy
hair.
I knew right away something was troubling
her; Healer was usually so proud of her shiny, silvery hair!
Only at her lowest points had she even threatened to change it, and
she'd always come around within a day or two. I never once
thought she'd really go through with it!
"That's
a very striking colour," I said, in hopes it would encourage her
to talk, "really sets off your eyes."
She
just shrugged in response, murmuring, "That wasn't the
point."
"Then what was?"
"Getting attention?" Maker suggested.
"You're grumpy today."
"Shouldn't
I be? I've only been rebuilding the world alone all day while
you two goofed off," she retorted.
"Just
shut up," Healer said, trembling with rage. "Just
shut up. You don't know!"
Then she
fled to our little makeshift bedroom in tears, and if it had a door
I'm sure she would've slammed it.
I started to
follow, but our princess shook her head, so I sat down at the table
with a sigh.
"Look, Maker, do you think
you could go a little easier on her from now on?" I asked.
"I think she's really going through something."
"Unlikely," she said, pushing up her glasses.
"I'm sure her most pressing concern is whether her favourite
dress will still look good with her new red hair."
"I don't think this is just another of her little
teen-aged crises," I said. "I've never seen her like
this before."
"She thinks she's the
only one with problems? We've all been through hell these past
few years, but we deal with it, because duty comes first," Maker
retorted. "You would think she, of all people, wouldn't
have to be reminded of that."
"Well,
maybe this is just her way of dealing."
I
guess we all have our own ways of dealing. Mine has always been
to immerse myself in my work and suffer quietly, which is why I was
still found at our makeshift workstation long after everyone else was
in bed.
My heavy head dipped forward, snapping
up just before my face would've collided with the table.
"Maybe it's time I was off to bed, too," I
decided.
Fighter had chosen to sleep in our
princess' room to give Healer time alone, and I considered doing the
same, especially after how I'd treated her earlier. But
sleeping in the same bed as our princess, though I knew nothing would
happen, I just wouldn't feel right! So I decided to chance
confrontation with Healer instead. With any luck, she'd be
asleep by now.
I paused at the door to watch
her for a moment before entering; she was curled up in the middle of
our broken-down mattress on the floor, asleep in nothing but a floral
bra and panties. Judging by the grimace on her face and quiet
whimpers, she wasn't having very pleasant dreams at the moment.
I sat down beside her and gently stroked her hair. It was still
quite lovely, with her cute bob angled a bit shorter at the back and
feathered softly about her face. Its rich burgundy colour
brought out delicate pink hues in her skin. This was too pretty
to have been done out of anger, I thought. But as I stroked her
hair back from her face, I found a large cut on her cheek which
couldn't have come from a mere slip of the shears.
Healer knew she was beautiful, and was quite proud of that.
She'd once confided in me her biggest fear was that her face
might be disfigured in battle. Why would she do anything
deliberately to hurt it? The answer came when I saw her arms,
which were covered to the elbow with cuts in various stages of
healing, from fading scars to barely scabbed over.
"Oh, Healer," I whispered, stroking her cheek, "what
have you been doing to yourself?"
That
I awoke with Maker holding me like a teddy bear didn't alarm me at
first-- she'd always been a snuggler-- until I remembered what I'd
gone to sleep wearing. I looked down to find my arms heavily
bandaged from wrists to elbows.
She knew.
"Healer?" she said drowsily, stirring a bit.
She'd always been a much lighter sleeper than me.
"It's early," I tried. "Go back to
sleep."
"No, I think we really need
to talk about this," Maker said, touching my arm. "You
can't keep doing this to yourself, Healer-- it's not healthy."
I hung my head. "You weren't supposed to see
that."
"You obviously wanted someone
to, or you wouldn't be dressed like that," she said. "When
you hurt your face, was that when you realised you'd taken it too
far?"
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes.
"Do you think it'll scar? I don't know how I'd ever
live with myself if it did."
"Well,
it doesn't look very deep," she said. "I cleaned and
dressed it as best I could, but maybe if we asked our princess. .
."
"No!" I protested. "She
can't know about this. Promise me you won't tell her."
"I-if you insist," she said uncertainly, concern in
her violet eyes, "but I think she'd have a better chance of
healing it without scarring."
"I'd
almost rather take the scars than face her," I said sadly.
"Healer, I know your face is important to you," she
said. "Why would you ever want to hurt it?"
"Haven't you ever looked in the mirror and hated what you
saw?"
Maker gave me a strange look,
shaking her head slowly.
"Never mind,"
I said, pouting. "I should've known you wouldn't
understand."
I stood and pulled on my
fluffy pink robe as I left the room, wanting to be alone for a
while. But as I looked up from tying my robe, I found I wasn't
alone at all. Kakyuu-princess smiled politely from the table
where she sat in her own red velvet robe, bareheaded and sans
make-up, with her long red hair cascading freely over her
shoulders.
"Sorry, Your Highness, I didn't
know you were in here," I apologised, bowing.
I
turned to make my hasty retreat, but she called me over.
I froze in my tracks. How much had she heard?
"Healer," I called, "could you come over here
for a minute?"
She hesitated at first, but
finally sat down beside me, looking terribly nervous.
"Y-you needed to see me for something, Your Highness?"
she asked.
"It's come to my attention
you're not pulling your weight around here, sneaking off into town to
play in the shops instead."
"Yes,
ma'am, but only a couple times a week," she protested.
"All the same, I think it's interfering with your work,"
I said. "I'm afraid I'll have to forbid you from going
there alone until further notice, and then only with my express
permission. Do you understand?"
"Yes,
ma'am."
She got up to leave, but I called
her back.
"And, Healer?"
She swallowed nervously. "Y-yes?"
"What happened to your arms?"
Healer
tugged at the sleeves of her robe to cover the bandages, a guilty
look in her eyes.
"I'm fine," she
said with a false smile. "Maker took care of it."
"Did you slit your wrists, Healer?" I had to ask.
"Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"Of
course not!" she said, sounding shocked I'd even suggest it.
"I wouldn't do that."
"Then show
me your arms."
She hesitated, tears
shining at the rims of her big green eyes, before finally holding her
bandaged arms out for inspection.
I began
unwrapping at her right wrist-- prepared, I thought, for the worst--
but the reality was worse than I could ever imagine! Her arm
was so covered in cuts and scars there was barely an inch of healthy
flesh left. Each twist of the gauze revealed larger and deeper
wounds, some fresh enough to have oozed a bit on the bandages, all
the way to her elbow. Her left arm was even worse, with more
and deeper wounds spaced more closely in what almost looked like a
planned pattern.
"How could you do this?"
I asked, tears streaming down my face.
Her
mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out. She just
shook her head silently, the pain in her eyes cutting more deeply
than any words could.
I was shaking all
over.
"This body is sacred to me," I
sobbed. "I won't let you continue to desecrate it like
this. I'll personally inspect you every day, if I have to, to
make sure you don't!"
I fled the room
without waiting for her response, tears blurring my vision as I
stumbled through the barren fields. Suddenly my left foot
landed in a hole, and I went down. I'd lost my slipper to the
hole and skint up my hands and knees, but I made no attempt to get
up. I just lay there, body racked with sobs.
There was something so bad in Healer's life, it made her want
to slice herself up, and I'd been oblivious to it the whole time.
How could I have been so blind?
"Healer?"
I called drowsily from the doorway, pulling my robe over my boxy blue
pjs. "Are you all right? I thought I heard an
argument."
"Go away," she
muttered, face in her hands.
I noticed the pile
of gauze on the table first, and was about to ask who was hurt, when
I saw Healer's mutilated arms. It almost looked like she'd
fallen through a window, but the cuts were far too straight and
regular for that.
Whatever was bothering her,
it went a lot deeper than just a little red hair dye.
I wanted to yell at her for what she'd done, to demand to know
why, but I knew reacting in anger would only push her farther away.
I took her in my arms and held her close instead, letting her cry on
my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a long time, until. . .
"How do you and Maker put up with it?" she sobbed.
"Put up with what?" I asked gently.
"Knowing we used to be guys back on Earth. I just
can't do it anymore. Every time I look in the mirror, there he
is. It's like torture!"
I didn't
know how to answer that. I'd actually enjoyed being a boy while
we were on Earth. Part of me even kind of missed it.
"I never thought you were a very convincing boy, anyway,"
I said, the safest answer I could come up with.
Healer raised her head slightly.
"You
think so?" she asked cautiously. "I really don't look
like a guy to you?"
"A delicate,
pixie-faced girl like yourself? It's a wonder you weren't found
out right away!"
She giggled a bit through
her tears. "Thanks, Fighter."
"I
think you're gonna be just fine," I said, hugging her tightly,
"once we figure out what to do with this red mane of yours."
"It'll wash out in a few weeks," she confessed,
blushing. "I like my real shade too much to ever dye it
permanently."
"Good, 'cause I just
happen to find redheads irresistible," I joked. "So
if you stay like that too long, I might lose control and jump your
skinny bones!"
I heard laughter from
the next room; surely a good sign. I pulled my butterfly-print
lavender robe over its matching nightgown and put on a more
functional pair of glasses before peering out to make sure it was
safe.
To judge by the pile of soiled gauze on
the table, Healer's secret was out. That would certainly
explain the argument I'd heard! But now Kakyuu-princess was
nowhere to be found, and it was Fighter, instead, I saw comforting
Healer.
"Is everything all right in here?"
I asked cautiously from the doorway.
"I-I
guess so," Healer said, sniffling.
"Come
on in. We were just discussing the tremendous sex appeal of
redheads," Fighter said with a wink.
Healer
giggled and shoved her playfully away.
"Well,
I'm glad to see you both in such a good mood," I said.
"Hey, have you tried asking her yet?" Fighter asked,
nudging Healer.
"Asking me what?"
"How you live with the fact we were guys for a while,"
Fighter said. "That's what's troubling Healer; she's been
having boy flashbacks."
"Fighter!"
Healer scolded, punching her arm.
"It's
all right," I said, taking a seat near them at the table, "I
don't mind answering. I actually have them myself, sometimes.
I swear some mornings I almost have to check myself to make sure I'm
still female."
"But I thought you
didn't mind being a guy."
"I didn't,"
I said, "which is part of the problem. If I feel equally
comfortable as either gender, what does that say about me?"
"Only that time on Earth hasn't sold you on their whole
'fixed gender' concept," Fighter said, "which puts you one
up on me, I'm afraid."
"Me, too, I
guess," Healer grudgingly admitted.
She
always hated letting on she'd picked up anything from Earth.
"But, no matter how bad things get, I'd never harm myself
over it," I said, taking both Healer's hands. "That's
never the answer."
"Just promise me
next time you have a problem you'll come to us, all right?"
Fighter said. "You don't have to go through it alone."
Her words reminded me of what Kakyuu-princess said just
yesterday, and gave them new meaning. We were all facing the
same challenges here, after all, and not just with the rebuilding.
"Kakyuu-princess," I said, suddenly remembering her
gone, "where is she?"
"She ran
out after our argument," Healer said. "She seemed
pretty upset."
Though there were no other
people or animals on our dead world to threaten her, I couldn't help
worrying, especially hearing she'd left all upset.
"We should look for her."
I
heard my name being called, but didn't answer. I didn't want
them to see me like this; a broken-down wreck in a soiled robe and
nightgown, lying in the dirt with one slipper off. So I dried
my eyes, and had just replaced my lost slipper to stand, when
Fighter's voice called from the top of the hill, "She's over
here!"
Fighter rushed to my side, still in
her masculine, boxy pajamas and robe, with her short, dark curls
standing up at all angles from sleep. At least I wasn't the
only indecent one!
"Are you all right,
Princess?" she asked, blue eyes full of concern. "Do
you think you can stand?"
"I'm fine,
Fighter," I insisted.
To prove as much,
tried to stand, leaning heavily on her for support, but my throbbing
ankle wouldn't allow it.
"Do you need me
to carry you?"
"I'm fine," I
repeated. "I think I just need to rest a while."
"As you wish," she said, and sat down beside me.
The others came over the hill a moment later.
"What happened?" Maker asked urgently. "Is
she all right?"
"I'm fine," I
said yet again, forcing a smile for their benefit. "I just
wasn't looking where I was going, and tripped on a hole. I'll
be fine."
"Sorry I upset you,"
Healer said. "I'll try not to-- I mean, I'm not
gonna do those things to myself anymore, I promise."
"You really mean that?" I asked hopefully.
Healer shrugged, eyes downcast.
"I
was getting tired of the pain, anyway."
"I'll
still have to check you every day for a while to make sure," I
said. "No offence."
"Fair
enough."
"Come on," Fighter
said, "let's get you inside and see what we can do for that
ankle."
"I'll make us some
breakfast," Maker offered. "We've got a long day of
work ahead, towards rebuilding our world."
"We?" I repeated, pleasantly surprised at her sudden
change in attitude.
"Well, you can't
expect her to fix everything herself, can you?" Healer said with
a wink.
"Hey, guys," Fighter said,
pointing, "looks like we've got some help in our restoration
efforts."
The others knelt down for a
better look. There, barely visible, on the ground, a few small
grass shoots had forced their way up through the barren, rocky
soil.
"But we haven't reseeded this field
yet," Healer said. "How could this happen?"
Maker smiled. "Looks like Mother Nature's got her
own recovery program."
"And between
the five of us," Fighter said, "I'm sure we'll have our
world back, good as new, in no time."
©2002/2006
(revised HTML version) Naia Zifu all
rights reserved.
Starlights and Kakyuu are SM characters I don't
own rights to, but as always, I'm not trying to make money off anyone
else's ideas.
Gomen, I never write MPOV fics-- don't even like
them, usually-- but this one turned out this way on its own.
Hopefully each character's viewpoint is distinctive enough not to
confuse anyone.
Healer's ways of dealing with problems in this fic
are based on things I've done, to a lesser extent, in the past. . .
still sometimes get urges, but try to resist. If any readers
share similar experiences and need support, feel free to write and
we'll talk about it.