Minako woke many hours later at the Hotel Losserand feeling
quite cold. She shivered, rubbing her bare arms as she looked around the hotel
that was only familiar because it vaguely resembled every other hotel room
she'd ever stayed in. Even if it had slightly better decor, it had the same
impersonal, empty feel that they all had. She looked around at the warm colored
walls, which were some sort of cross between gold, butter, and peach. She was
used to badly painted landscapes in hotel rooms, but this one had poor
imitations of Monet's masterpieces that were no doubt located in Paris.
She looked down and examined her bedding. There was no question that it was
gold. She could just barely make out the images of fleur-de-lis and flowers
woven into the monochrome fabric. There was a modest dresser and a desk to her
right. Otherwise, everything was made of wrought iron. To her left was the one
window in her room located under a small alcove that curved at the top. All in
all, it was a very nice room, one she would have never been able to afford
without the thirty-nine percent discount she'd managed to obtain.
In fact, the only thing that Minako could complain about was
the overzealous air conditioner currently turning her room into the arctic
circle. Of course, this would have been made better by Artemis's warm, purring
presence, but there was nothing that could be done about that.
After trying to curl up in a ball and contain her body heat
for several minutes, Minako gave up. She was going to have to move and fix the
problem whether she liked it or not. So she took a deep breath, braced herself,
and flung the covers off her with a pained cry, half-running and half-skipping
over to the air conditioner strategically placed on the opposite side of the
room. Her hands couldn't quite grip the dials correctly nor could she stop
hopping up and down to increase blood flow. "Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold,
cold!"
Finally, she managed to turn it off, wanting to turn on the
heat, but knowing that was a rather silly thing to do that in the summer.
Instead, she ran back to the bed, snatching off her tourist
information off the desk in the corner. She leapt back into bed, pulling the
covers up to her chin and sticking her arms out to hold the brochures, maps,
and restaurant guides Mamoru had scrounged up for her. He had never been to Europe,
but his trips, both attempted and successful, to America
had taught him a thing or two about preparing to go overseas.
She had already decided that she could spare enough money
for at least a daily dose of breakfast. Minako had also been happy to learn
that her Aunt Keiko, renowned socialite and prominent wife of a surgeon, fully
supported her trip to Paris and
anything else that would upset Minako’s mother. She'd called Minako when she
arrived in Paris and offered to
forward her any money she'd need while she was over there.
Minako had always loved her Aunt Keiko very, very much.
Even so, Minako would try not to sponge money off her if she
could help it. If she wound up making this trip a bit more permanent than she'd
intended, she'd see if she could get a waitressing job or something. She'd
probably become famous for being the only nice waiter in France
if the stories she'd heard were accurate.
Minako giggled at her own private joke and then turned to
look at all of the papers in her hands. "Now let me see. Where does Minako
want to go first?" Minako shut her eyes and selected a random slip of
paper, deciding that would be her first place to visit. Her eyes flew open,
bright with anticipation of what she'd see.
"The Louvre?" Minako made a face very much like
the one Makoto had made when she'd sampled some cookies Usagi had once made
where the future queen accidentally used salt instead of sugar. And that was
only part of the problem with them.
"How did this get in here?" Minako certainly
didn't remember taking anything remotely connected with the numerous museums in
Paris. Of course,it didn't take her
long to pinpoint the culprit. Minako narrowed her eyes suspiciously, frowning
comically. "Ami must be trying to culture me. Come to think of it, she
probably wouldn't let me back in the country if I didn't go."
So it was with great pain that Minako decided she would
actually have to set foot inside a museum. Such was the dedication to her
friends. She would no doubt spend the trip thinking of a suitable retaliation.
It would probably have something to do with male strippers and a lot of sake.
Minako then decided that her first selection had just been
for practice. She'd go, but it wasn't the sort of thing she wanted to do on her
first day in Paris.
She tried the system once more, and this time things worked
out in her favor. She smiled and nearly hopped out of bed for dramatic effect
when she remembered how could it was. Instead, she completely burrowed under
the covers and exclaimed, "Eiffel
Tower, here I come!"
-----
That was the plan anyway. Unfortunately, Minako had
forgotten one very important detail as she'd been planning her morning. Well,
two important details. First, she had always been hopeless with maps. Second,
if there was a chance that she was going to get lost, it was a very bad idea to
do it in high heels.
"Ow..." Minako moaned, rubbing the back of her
heel where her sky blue sling backs were creating a nasty blister. "This
is ridiculous. How is that I can fight youma in heels, but I can't walk around Paris
in them?"
Of course, the other option was to take the Metro. Ami had
literally spent hours making sure Minako understood the subway system, but the
fundamental problem with that option was fear. She'd been taught from an early
age to avoid public transportation if she was alone. Japanese salarymen did not
have a glorious reputation for keeping their hands to themselves. And since the
heat and a desire to be fashionable had dictated that Minako wear a skirt, she
decided that she may as well suffer the pains of walking rather than get felt
up on the metro.
She'd never been wary when she'd been with Makoto. Although
Makoto's curves had a tendency to invite attention, usually a hard look and her
height dissuaded any unwanted advances; and if that didn't do the trick, her
left hook would.
Not that Minako had been a shrinking violet. She'd once
lectured an entire bus full of people for four blocks before they finally threw
her out.
Minako smiled wistfully, stopping and pulling a small
photobook out of her purse. She opened it to the first photo, taken at a New
Year's party the year before. Minako had fought her way to the epicenter as
usual, her smile brighter than any other in the room let alone the photograph.
She had linked arms with Rei, who was usually so elegant and reserved in
public. Now the miko laughing from Minako's infectious energy. Makoto was
raising her glass of wine in a toast, an arm slung around Ami. The girl who had
once been legendary for her shyness, was winking at the camera, kicking her
foot up like someone out of a 1950s movie. And then there was Usagi, preparing
to leap on Makoto's back for an impromptu piggy back ride. That had resulted in
the five of them being tackled to the floor. No matter how silly they'd looked,
none of them had particularly wanted to get up because it was peace time. They
were happier in a way they hadn't been in years, exhilarated knowing that they
didn't have to worry about this perfect moment being ruined by a youma or a
daimon or anything else.
She wiped the water from her eyes and quickly placed the
photobook back into her bag. It was probably better if she didn't reminisce.
She did not need to think about how Ami would have been able to read the map,
Rei would have been assertive enough to deal with snotty waiters and hotel
management, Makoto would have pointed out any cute French boys Minako missed,
and Usagi would have whined about her aching feet so that Minako wound up
looking like the mature blonde in the group. It would have been the perfect
arrangement.
And yet, Minako knew that they couldn't have come with her.
They all had school, boyfriends, family, and lives that had to continue
existing without her magnificently radiant presence. Granted, she knew that
there would be am emotional void in their lives, but they had to keep on
living. She wasn't the kind of person who was going ask them to drop everything
so she could find herself, even though she knew they would have done so.
"Still sucks," Minako muttered.
Sadly, Minako's distracted mind was going to once again
prove itself more than a bit troublesome. Trained as she was to notice when
people were coming up behind her, she was sorely out of practice. So she was
completely unaware of the seedy looking man coming up behind her. In fact, she
failed to notice his presence until he'd yanked her purse off her shoulder.
Minako stared after him, briefly confused about what had
just happened. The minute she put two and two together, she knew there was
really only one thing she could do in this situation. Her purse had her money,
her passport, and a very expensive lipstick in it. She was just going to have
to take it back.
"Oh, great," Minako said loudly as she started
after him. "Now I have to run after you! Did you take a look at the shoes
I'm wearing?"
He didn't appear to have heard her. Or perhaps he did. That
would explain why he was speeding up.
"Hey, crap-face!" Minako shouted after him.
"Give me back my purse, and I won't kick you!"
As he rounded the block, Minako used the corner of a
building to push herself off the wall and give her a bit more momentum. It was
a trick she'd picked up from Haruka. It had always come in handy during a chase
like this.
From there, Minako ran full out, trying to ignore the pain
her shoes were giving her. This proved to be impossible, but she'd certainly
been in more painful situations. She caught up with the purse-snatcher easily.
He was only human after all. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around,
clearly not pleased.
"I'll be taking that back now, if you don't mind,"
she informed him pleasantly in slightly accented French.
Unwilling to give up a perfectly good wallet, the greasy
looking criminal actually took a swing at her. He came around too wide, giving
her ample opportunity to duck under his arm. Minako bent down, using all of her
body weight to propel the nasty kick aimed at his jaw. She hit him hard,
knocking him to the ground. She reached over and plucked her purse out of his
hands, slinging it back over her shoulder in one graceful movement. She
couldn't resist the urge to grin down at him as he stared up at her in a
mixture of pain and disbelief.
"Now then, you see what happens when you don't do as a
lady tells you?" Minako chastised gently, wagging her finger at him.
"I mean, I told you if you didn't give it back, I was going to have to
kick you. You left me with no choice in this matter. Taking it was bad enough,
but then you make me chase after you for two blocks. I didn't appreciate that
very much."
He glared silently. For some reason, he didn't seem to find
this amusing.
Minako pretended to look guilty. "I guess your jaw
hurts too much to talk, huh?"
He growled at her and started to get to his feet. He spoke
French as well, but it was clumsy. He was barely masking his accent, which
Minako thought was German. "You are going to pay for that, you
little--"
"I certainly hope you were about to say glorious ray of
sunshine or vision of loveliness, Monsieur Faust," another male voice said
behind her. Suddenly, there was a rather portly gentleman wearing a blue
uniform standing next to her. He had a graying mustache that obscured his face
and was panting heavily. She couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't been tied
down to a desk already if he couldn't run a couple of blocks.
The purse-snatcher said something nasty in German, and
judging by his inflection, Minako decided she was glad she couldn't understand
him.
"Now, now," the officer said, striding forward pompously.
"There are ladies present, Monsieur Faust." As if just remembering
her presence, the officer looked over at her as he hauled Faust to his feet,
pulling out handcuffs with well-practiced movements. "Are you alright,
Mademoiselle?"
Minako smiled sunnily and didn't bother to mask the
arrogance in her tone of voice. "I think you should maybe be asking him
that."
The officer laughed in a way that Minako decided must be
distinctly French, glancing down at Faust to ensure that he didn't lunge for
Minako in reprisal for the comment. "Very true. That was quite an
impressive kick. I don't suppose you're in law enforcement?"
Minako shrugged. "Something like that."
As the officer straightened, Minako noticed for the first
time that he wasn't any normal police officer. She recognized his uniform
instantly from her time in London. "You're Interpol?" she asked, her
voice taking on a strange tone.
"Oui, Mademoiselle," he said cheerfully. "And
you've been more helpful than you realize. We have been trying to find this man
for several weeks now."
Minako quirked her eyebrow cutely, hoping to garner some
more information to satisfy her curiosity. Not that it was at all satiable.
"Interpol has been tailing a purse snatcher?"
He laughed again, eyes twinkling. Minako wondered if he was
the one who dressed up as Santa Claus for the family Christmas celebration
every year. "No, not just a purse-snatcher, Mademoiselle. This man was
actually the head of an international smuggling ring until very recently.
Interpol intercepted a drop and rounded up every member except of course for
our dear Monsieur Faust. He has been living off petty crimes until we got tired
of looking for him so that he was able to set up a whole new crime ring."
Faust seemed unable to contain himself any longer. He had
been glaring at her murderously for some time, but now he began yelling at her
in German, spittle flying in her general direction. She wisely took a step
back.
"Well, thank you, Officer," Minako said
graciously, bowing slightly before remembering that this wasn't Japan. So,
keeping with custom, she kissed him on one cheek. She didn't risk the second
one with Faust there, but hopefully it would suffice.
The officer's cheeks colored, which gave Minako a feeling of
immense satisfaction. He cleared his throat slightly and added, "You
should thank my associate as well. She was lunching at the café on the corner
when she saw this man and followed him. She was about to take him into custody
when he took your purse."
He gestured forward to the woman who had been standing near
Minako. The stranger was panting as well, but Minako had just assumed she was
one of those people who enjoyed watching the drama of other people's lives,
existing through them vicariously by being close to danger without actually
being a part of it. Minako and the other Senshi had to deal with a lot of those
squatters.
Minako turned, plastering on the biggest fake smile she
could muster. When she saw the woman who had just happened to be in the right
place at the right time, Minako's jaw unhinged a little. Standing before the
Japanese tourist was a brunette whose hair had a slight red tinge. She was
taller than Minako, but that didn't mean very much given her height. The other
woman was wearing a pantsuit of muted earth tones on a casual outing, something
Minako had only encountered once before. She was put together, professional,
and the last person Minako expected to see in Paris.
"Katarina-onee-sama?" Minako asked quietly,
clutching her purse tightly.
"Oui, Minako-chan," Katarina said softly, smiling
as much as she would allow herself. "It's me."
Without another thought, Minako flung herself forward,
throwing her arms around Katarina's neck. Without quite knowing why, Minako
felt tears dripping down her face. Katarina didn't hesitate before hugging her
back, sniffling a little herself. Minako heard herself babbling in a mixture of
Japanese, French, and English, but one sentence stood out from the others.
"I missed you."
-----
Several minutes later, both Minako and Katarina were seated
at a table at the corner café Katarina had been lunching at. Both were clearly
foreign to the country, but Katarina had the ability to at least appear
completely capable and in control no matter what situation she was in. It was a
quality Minako had always envied.
Minako dabbed at her still damp eyes, feeling immense
gratitude to the man who had invented waterproof mascara. "Remind me never
to get homesick in the middle of the sidewalk again. And I thought my feet were
killing me before."
Katarina chuckled, sipping at the tea she'd been drinking
before Minako joined her. "Look at it this way. In Prague, the streets are
still cobblestone. You would have good reason to weep if you'd chased after a
purse-snatcher there."
Minako laughed. Just then, the waiter came and Minako
ordered her lunch. It wound up being a substantial amount of food, but Katarina
had already insisted on paying and the prices weren't unreasonable. At least
they were if Minako was converting the money in her head correctly.
Once he had gone, Minako leaned forward, interlacing her
fingers and resting her chin on the top of her hands. "God, Katarina it's
been ages, hasn't it?"
"Four years since the last time I saw you,"
Katarina marveled. "I know I sound like a doting aunt, but you've really
grown up."
Minako fluffed her hair slightly and nodded in assent.
"Haven't I just aged beautifully?"
"Men must weep every time you pass them on the
street," Katarina agreed with a grin.
Minako's eyebrow twitched violently. "Heh. Well, that
does tend to happen, but not really for the reasons you're thinking."
Katarina laughed again, but kindly let the subject drop.
Minako's love life wasn't the most comfortable of subjects between the two
women, all things considered. "So, Minako. What brings you to Paris? Aside
from the glamour, the lights, the magic, and of course--"
"The men," they both concluded.
Minako shrugged perkily. "I don't really know. I was
sort of in a rut back in Tokyo. I don't go to college with the others. Far too
busy pursuing my dream of becoming a star to be stuck inside a lecture hall for
hours and hours and hours. Unfortunately, my auditions... Well, none of them
have been all that fruitful as of yet, and I needed a bit of a break. And
thanks to a hefty amount of graduation money and a very generous aunt who loves
everything my mother hates, I came to Paris."
"Not London?" Katarina asked, sounding hurt.
"Last you heard we were living there. Didn't you want to visit?"
"I was thinking of taking a side trip," Minako lied,
dropping eye contact in favor of looking down at her drink.
Honestly, that had been the last thing on her mind. While
she would have liked to see Katarina and even Alan, she wasn't sure if she
wanted to meet with them in London. There were too many bad memories there. She
would have preferred to see them again in Tokyo, where she had a home
advantage. But seeing Katarina in Paris worked well enough. It was neutral
territory.
"I would never have forgiven you if you were in Europe
and didn't pop over to London," Katarina informed her. "And I would
have visited you back in Tokyo just to tell you that."
"Still hate phones that much, huh?" Minako
queried, raising a knowing eyebrow.
Katarina screwed up her face unpleasantly. "Ghastly
things. I don't understand why you fancy them."
"Cause I'm a perfectly normal teenage girl?"
Minako said with just a hint of sarcasm. Senshi or not, there wasn't much of
Aino Minako that could be considered typical.
Katarina laughed again. "Oh yes, Minako. You're the
epitome of the every day. I'm falling asleep just looking at you."
"Eh, at least I'm pretty," Minako said. "My
turn now. Katarina, the last letter I got at Christmas was still postmarked London.
When did you get transferred over here?"
"Just a month ago actually," Katarina told her
after thinking about it for a moment. "Seems much longer, I'll tell you
that much. That smuggling ring was absolute murder to take down. And of course,
the moment we have that one under control, another one pops up. Very
frustrating."
Minako nodded sagely before puffing out her chest a bit and
straightening her posture. "Well, when you don't have Sailor V around to
clean up your messes--"
The older woman scoffed. "YOU clean up MY messes?"
"I'm just saying that I understand how hard it must be
for you without me," Minako said, making sure that no one else was
listening to them. Of course, the other diners were far too wrapped up in their
own lives to pay much attention to theirs. And if the patrons did hear, Minako
was already planning to feign insanity. It had worked before.
Katarina paused, considering this while looking at her now
lukewarm tea. She nodded after a moment and said, "It is actually. Hard
without you."
Minako blinked in surprise. "But-- Katarina, I was just
kidding."
"I know," Katarina said with a bit of a sigh.
"It's just... Well, you know my job doesn't leave much time for
socializing. It seems rather silly that a thirteen year old was one of my few
friends in London I suppose."
"Hey, I was mature for a thirteen year old,"
Minako insisted, knowing that it probably wasn't true.
"Of course you were," Katarina said dismissively.
"But honestly, when you left... Well, not only was I grieving, but I was
virtually alone. That's why I was so happy when I learned you were still alive.
It didn't change much of course, what with us being on separate continents, but
it was still nice to know I had a friend out there."
Minako smiled softly. "Same here."
The two women sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying
each other's company. Then, out of no where, Minako sat up again, nearly
spitting out her drink. She was grinning stupidly and barely managing to
suppress a laugh. "Do you remember the day that I showed up at your office
in my Sailor V gear?"
Katarina didn't even pause to recollect that memory. "I
have tried valiantly to forget it, but so far no luck."
Minako reached over and lightly hit Katarina on the arm.
"Why forget it? It was hilarious!"
"Yes, it was very funny the way you came in through the
window - I don't understand why you always feel the need to make a dramatic
entrance. We had a perfectly functioning door you know," Katarina
chastised.
Minako waved her hand flippantly. "I am an actress,
Katarina. I cannot be expected to just walk in. It lacks flair."
"It would have saved us some property damage
considering you neglected to open the window before you leapt through it,"
Katarina reminded her. "I swear, I've never been so scared in all my life
as I was when you came careening in through that window. I just remember the
glass spraying everywhere and this huge blur of gold and blue. I thought it was
an attack by one of those demons."
Minako nodded. "That is one thing me and the enemy had
in common. We lacked subtlety."
"You still lack subtlety," Katarina reminded her.
"Yes, but now I choose to be obnoxious," Minako
stated. "Before I was completely unaware."
Katarina didn't appear convinced. "Anyway, all of a
sudden, there you were, grinning at me with your feet propped up on my desk.
Then you very loudly informed all of the occupants in the room that you weren't
thrilled with the wanted posters that had been posted."
"Well, I wasn't!" Minako exclaimed. "I was
helping you people!"
"Yes, but what you always seem to forget is that you
put up the wanted posters, Minako," Katarina drawled.
Minako did her best to look entirely innocent in that
manner. When that failed, she simply rolled her eyes and said, "A girl has
to generate her publicity somehow."
"And so we were the scapegoats," Katarina
remembered with a sigh. "The higher-ups were utterly confused. They spent
weeks trying to figure out who had put the signs up. The last thing they wanted
was the people's hero to be their enemy."
Minako grinned and pointed at Katarina cutely. "You
never told them though."
"No, I didn't," Katarina admitted. "I just
sat there every time I heard them arguing about it and tried desperately to
keep a straight face. Failed miserably."
After a few more moments, Minako once again initiated a new
conversation. She hadn't been looking forward to this, but she figured she
might as well get it over with. Besides, she was curious about it, and it
didn't hurt like it had before. It was just a dull pinprick now. She barely
noticed it.
"So, how's Alan doing?"
Katarina's easy manner slipped away like water over the edge
of a cliff. All at once she was tense, gripping her freshly refilled teacup so
hard that her knuckles flushed pale. Minako even heard her jaw crack a little
when she opened her mouth to answer.
"Alan is... Well, he's a bit out of sorts to be
honest." Katarina looked none too pleased to be reporting this.
"Oh, no," Minako murmured, clearly concerned.
"Did something happen? Is he sick?"
"No, nothing like that," Katarina reassured her
before Minako's imagination ran away with her and Alan wound up lying in a coma
in the cancer ward. "He's just... Well, for one thing, his French is
terrible. Nonexistent really. He can't speak a bit of it. I've tried to teach
him a little, but he needs to be fluent if he wants to get a job. That
certainly won't happen at the rate he's going."
Minako pursed her lips slightly. "What does he do
again? I always forget."
"He was a copy editor," Katarina said, stressing
the past tense. "Now he sits around the house and doesn't do all that
much. Well, he broods."
Minako laughed mirthlessly. "The boy always knew how to
brood."
"Yes," Katarina agreed brusquely. "He does at
that."
Just then, the food came, allowing the women to drop the
subject that was clearly awkward territory. Minako didn't immediately try and
initiate anything again, putting all of her concentration into eating her
lunch. She wished she'd never brought Alan up in the first place and just given
Katarina leeway to bring him up when she pleased. Minako hadn't thought
Katarina would have been as uncomfortable with it as she was, but perhaps
Minako had overestimated her a bit. And maybe Katarina saw the blonde as a bit
of a threat now that Minako was older. Of course, that didn't sound anything
like the Katarina that Minako so admired and adored, but she supposed people
changed over time.
After a few more minutes, Katarina set down her fork and
knife with a loud clatter. It was enough to startle Minako out of her reverie.
The brunette's sharp features softened apologetically. "I'm sorry. I was
rude, wasn't I?"
Minako had never quite been sure how to answer that question
when it was posed to her. Thankfully, Katarina didn't give her enough time to
do so.
"Alan and I... We just had a bit of a spat this
morning, and I'm still out of sorts about it," Katarina admitted slowly.
Minako furrowed her brow gently. "Is everything all
right?"
"Of course," Katarina assured her. "It was
nothing serious. It's just rather frustrating to watch him sit on his backside
all day, but I don't really know what I expect him to do. He knows his way
around the city, but only because I'm there to translate."
"We have opposite problems," Minako observed.
"I speak the language, but I don't know where the hell I'm going."
Katarina chuckled lightly. "You'd be the perfect
pair."
Before Minako had a chance to overanalyze that statement,
Katarina reached forward and grasped her hand. "I hope you'll forgive me
for my attitude, Minako. It really had nothing to do with you. I know how it
must have--"
"Forget it," Minako said brightly. "Harm
scores no fouls."
Katarina blinked several times, going over that mangled
statement in her head before finally hitting upon what Minako had actually
meant to say. She laughed, seeming to relax. "I've missed that."
"You won't miss it by the time I leave." Minako
pursed her lips a bit when she said that. For all she knew, she'd be staying in
Paris longer than Katarina and Alan.
Katarina smiled. "We'll see." Katarina took
another sip of her tea when something seemed to dawn on her. Minako was briefly
worried that the woman was going to ask just when she was leaving, but
thankfully, that proved not to be the case. "Oh, how stupid of me! I should
have thought of this before. Why don't you come over for dinner? We all have so
much more catching up to do."
Minako blinked in surprise. Come over? Of course, it would
take care of one meal, always a plus for a girl on a budget. On the other hand,
it would mean facing Alan after all these years.
Minako didn't love him anymore. In all honestly, she
probably hadn't ever loved him. She was just a thirteen year old super hero in
a strange city who latched on to the only people who really cared about her.
One became a sister and the other became a future husband. He just hadn't seen
it that way.
Still, Minako was unsure if she wanted to dredge up the
past. Surely Alan knew why she'd left London by now. And the knowledge that
Minako had loved him and faked her own death so that her infatuation didn't
interfere with him and Katarina was just... mortifying. It had been a hasty
decision fueled by Minako's penchant for the dramatic and a nasty head wound.
It was probably her main regret in life, and one she might never completely
absolve herself of. Honestly, how could she have possibly interfered with their
relationship? She had seen them together and realized how very much in love
they were. What could her silly crush have done to change that?
She knew she could face him after all that. She'd faced much
worse in her time. She just wasn't sure if she particularly wanted to.
As if reading her mind, Katarina said, "I know Alan
would just love to see you. He misses you too."
Minako's ears perked up. "Does he?"
"We both miss those old days a lot, Minako,"
Katarina said seriously.
Minako took another long sip of her soda, pondering this
once more. She had a choice. She could either decline and head back to the
streets where she would inevitably get lost and have to spend money on dinner
at the first restaurant she was able to find once her feet couldn't take it
anymore... Or she could go with Katarina and face Alan.
For a moment, she honestly wasn't sure which would be more
painful.
Eventually, Minako grinned and gestured cutely. "Sounds
like fun."
-----
The two women still took as long as they could to finish
lunch. Minako knew that Katarina's offer had been made out of courtesy, and she
probably wasn't looking forward to going home. She almost asked Katarina about
the nature of their fight but kept deciding against it. It wasn't her business.
And she could certainly tell that it hadn't been minor based on the way
Katarina kept stalling.
Once they made it out of the café, Katarina and Minako
walked the short distance to Katarina's car. Minako was very glad that there
would be no more walking in her very frivolous shoes.
"Maybe you'd better let me or Alan take you around for
awhile, Minako," Katarina offered as she buckled herself in. "With
your luck, you'll wind up kidnapped."
"And I probably won't be dressed the occasion,"
Minako admitted with a sigh as they sped off.
The drive to Katarina's home wasn't too far, but it was long
enough for Minako to wonder if perhaps she'd turned her map upside down without
realizing it at some point. Eventually, she just stopped watching and engaged
Katarina in some more pointless, slightly forced conversation that always took
place between friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time.
After a few minutes, the pair arrived at 9 rue St Germ
l'Aux. Katarina's apartment wasn't very far from Minako's hotel, or much of
anything actually. She'd managed to find a studio apartment in nearly the
center of the city. Thankfully, Interpol was subletting a lot of the cost.
Minako was just grateful it was on the first floor.
As the two were walking up to the house, Katarina realized
she'd left her purse in the car. "Why didn't you tell me?" she
teased.
Minako shrugged. "I'm a little too busy watching my own
bag nowadays. I can't afford to split my attention like that."
Katarina snorted in a manner that somehow still managed to
be demure. It was just a little bit infuriating. "Go ahead and knock.
He'll take awhile to answer it, but there's no danger in him not being
home."
Minako couldn't help but think that there was just a tiny
note of bitterness in that statement. Still, Minako decided that the best way
to deal with that observation was to completely forget about it. After all,
making this an enjoyable evening might be a hard enough task.
Minako walked through the small courtyard and strode up to
the front door. She took a deep breath and raised her fist to knock, tapping
out a little tune for her own amusement. Just as Katarina had promised, it took
a few minutes before she heard any movement from inside. And then it was
nothing but discontented grumbles and the slow shuffling of feet.
A few moments later, the door opened. Minako actually gasped
when she saw the figure standing before her. This man towered over her just as
Alan had, he had his same dark hair, and he had the same hands with fingers a
bit longer than they should have been.
All that being said, this man simply couldn't be Alan. He
looked as if he hadn't shaved in weeks. There was a dark, scraggly beard
hanging off his chin. His hair wanted cutting, reaching near his shoulders.
Though Alan had always been relatively svelte, this man looked as if he could
stand to gain a few pounds. But most disturbing of all were his eyes. He wasn't
quite looking at her, but her height gave her an advantage in that regard.
She'd seen Alan brood, she'd seen him angry, and she'd seen him as she always
remembered him - happy and vaguely amused by her over the top antics. But she'd
never seen his blue eyes faded grey. It unsettled her. It made her think it was a dead man who had
answered the door. Perhaps it was.
"Oh, my-- Alan?"
She never would have known him if he hadn't looked up.
