secret santa entry
Author: Tenshi no Nozomi
Pairing: Usagi + Setsuna (Angel Sanctuary) [light, unrequited]
Title: Odd-Man-Out
Theme: Secret Santa (For Purr)
Author’s Notes: Ah. Uhm. There’s so much lacking in this work. I feel so ashamed. I had so much trouble trying to start this, you just wouldn’t believe. I fear my muse for Usagi is growing seriously rusty; I just hope that there’s enough to this that I haven’t left her behind entirely. This nearly didn’t happen at all, and I was so scared-but last minute, a muse came through for me, thank goodness.
I tried in this piece to make her… imperfect. So many fictions try to make her perfect, or else they demonize her. I wanted to try for a balance. I think if I’d had more room for this, it might have gone off better. As it is, I wasn’t able to pack in a lot of the detailed description that I wanted, and I already went over the word limit. (I apologize to everyone about that.) I wasn’t even able to come right out and say that I’d made them into triplets…! xD; Clearly, I still have much to learn about the craft.
Anyway. Of all your possible pairings, this one interested me the most… but I didn’t want to make her an angel (she has a problem enough with being Sailor Moon, and that’s much more lighthearted!). But it’s been so long since I’ve read AS that I may have flubbed up details; I couldn’t even remember if Setsuna’s school was boys-only. I hope it’s enjoyable. Maybe once I’ve shaken some of the rust from my fingers, I’ll revisit this, and see if I can’t turn it into something worth the hard-drive space.
Usagi watched the sparrows thread straw and twigs and leaves into the nest they were building. It seemed they were a perfected tag-team, working diligently: just as one would finish fastening a piece, the other would come with a new piece and its partner would flit off in search of more material.
“… Usagi? Mudo Usagi, are you listening to me?” Miss Haruna called from the front of the class room. Usagi snapped back to attention, chin slipping out of her cupped hand as she jerked to attention. She heard scattered laughter and Miss Haruna’s left eye had the awful tic to it that signaled deep trouble.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I-“ the bell rang, breaking her off mid-apology. The other students rose in their seats, ready to rush off to lunch-Usagi stayed, wondering if she was in for another detention. Instead, her teacher sighed and slumped. “Go off to lunch,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. Usagi gave her own sigh of relief, before rushing off to meet her brother.
“Y’really need to make some girl friends, or something,” Setsuna lectured her. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. In fact, no, it was fairly routine, if not a daily occurrence. Usagi swallowed the last onigiri from her obento and gave Setsuna a skeptical look.
“But this way, you don’t get into trouble. Who else is going to keep you from getting into trouble? Him?” Usagi jerked her head in Sakuya Kira’s direction. The older boy didn’t so much as stir from the book he was paging through. “Sara’s counting on me to keep you in line.” Usagi started in on her grilled salted salmon. Switching between her mother and father’s house did have at least one benefit, not that anyone hardly noticed where she went or cared why.
“Speaking of which. I don’t remember you having that shiner this morning. What gives?” She watched his brown eyes skirt away to peer out a window, evading her own blue gaze. “You were fighting again. I knew it,” she proclaimed, shaking her head. ‘Sara is going to be so disappointed,’ she thought. It wasn’t without a small thrill of viciousness, swiftly swept under by the tumult of guilt and confusion that traditionally followed such emotions.
Like he’d read her mind, he was begging her, “Please, don’t tell, Usagi. Please.” He touched her, holding her free hand with his. Usagi looked down at his hand, suddenly unable to swallow and having difficulty breathing; a certain sweet tightness constricted her chest. His skin was just a few shades darker than her own, and it was hard to believe that once upon a time sixteen years ago-nearly seventeen now-their hands had been the same size.
Usagi looked into his amber eyes, so earnest. Even their eyes were mismatched. There was nothing about her that was like him, not from their height to their hair or their manner. The feeling her chest doubled from sweetness to pain, and she was glad she had food in her mouth. Suddenly, seeing his face like that, she was tempted by every mean-spirited thought she’d ever had. Sara this, Sara that… Sara hadn’t even deigned to tell him she intended to just let herself be shipped off and married and shelved away.
It was her turn to look away. Surprisingly, it was Kira’s eyes she met. Fathomless dark pools watched her carefully just over the edge of pages. He knew; there was no pity, just the knowledge. Usagi swallowed slowly, regretfully, before taking her hand away. He didn’t want to hold her hand, not really-not the way she wished he would. She’d seen the ring he’d given Sara when they were young; there had never been a piece of plastic for her own finger. “I won’t tell,” she mumbled, abandoning her unfinished obento. “I have to go now. I don’t feel so well,” she excused herself before all-but running away.
Later, looking out that same window at those same two birds, it was all she could do not to cry. All the world had been created in twos-there was no room for a “third.”
Pairing: Usagi + Setsuna (Angel Sanctuary) [light, unrequited]
Title: Odd-Man-Out
Theme: Secret Santa (For Purr)
Author’s Notes: Ah. Uhm. There’s so much lacking in this work. I feel so ashamed. I had so much trouble trying to start this, you just wouldn’t believe. I fear my muse for Usagi is growing seriously rusty; I just hope that there’s enough to this that I haven’t left her behind entirely. This nearly didn’t happen at all, and I was so scared-but last minute, a muse came through for me, thank goodness.
I tried in this piece to make her… imperfect. So many fictions try to make her perfect, or else they demonize her. I wanted to try for a balance. I think if I’d had more room for this, it might have gone off better. As it is, I wasn’t able to pack in a lot of the detailed description that I wanted, and I already went over the word limit. (I apologize to everyone about that.) I wasn’t even able to come right out and say that I’d made them into triplets…! xD; Clearly, I still have much to learn about the craft.
Anyway. Of all your possible pairings, this one interested me the most… but I didn’t want to make her an angel (she has a problem enough with being Sailor Moon, and that’s much more lighthearted!). But it’s been so long since I’ve read AS that I may have flubbed up details; I couldn’t even remember if Setsuna’s school was boys-only. I hope it’s enjoyable. Maybe once I’ve shaken some of the rust from my fingers, I’ll revisit this, and see if I can’t turn it into something worth the hard-drive space.
Usagi watched the sparrows thread straw and twigs and leaves into the nest they were building. It seemed they were a perfected tag-team, working diligently: just as one would finish fastening a piece, the other would come with a new piece and its partner would flit off in search of more material.
“… Usagi? Mudo Usagi, are you listening to me?” Miss Haruna called from the front of the class room. Usagi snapped back to attention, chin slipping out of her cupped hand as she jerked to attention. She heard scattered laughter and Miss Haruna’s left eye had the awful tic to it that signaled deep trouble.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I-“ the bell rang, breaking her off mid-apology. The other students rose in their seats, ready to rush off to lunch-Usagi stayed, wondering if she was in for another detention. Instead, her teacher sighed and slumped. “Go off to lunch,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. Usagi gave her own sigh of relief, before rushing off to meet her brother.
“Y’really need to make some girl friends, or something,” Setsuna lectured her. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. In fact, no, it was fairly routine, if not a daily occurrence. Usagi swallowed the last onigiri from her obento and gave Setsuna a skeptical look.
“But this way, you don’t get into trouble. Who else is going to keep you from getting into trouble? Him?” Usagi jerked her head in Sakuya Kira’s direction. The older boy didn’t so much as stir from the book he was paging through. “Sara’s counting on me to keep you in line.” Usagi started in on her grilled salted salmon. Switching between her mother and father’s house did have at least one benefit, not that anyone hardly noticed where she went or cared why.
“Speaking of which. I don’t remember you having that shiner this morning. What gives?” She watched his brown eyes skirt away to peer out a window, evading her own blue gaze. “You were fighting again. I knew it,” she proclaimed, shaking her head. ‘Sara is going to be so disappointed,’ she thought. It wasn’t without a small thrill of viciousness, swiftly swept under by the tumult of guilt and confusion that traditionally followed such emotions.
Like he’d read her mind, he was begging her, “Please, don’t tell, Usagi. Please.” He touched her, holding her free hand with his. Usagi looked down at his hand, suddenly unable to swallow and having difficulty breathing; a certain sweet tightness constricted her chest. His skin was just a few shades darker than her own, and it was hard to believe that once upon a time sixteen years ago-nearly seventeen now-their hands had been the same size.
Usagi looked into his amber eyes, so earnest. Even their eyes were mismatched. There was nothing about her that was like him, not from their height to their hair or their manner. The feeling her chest doubled from sweetness to pain, and she was glad she had food in her mouth. Suddenly, seeing his face like that, she was tempted by every mean-spirited thought she’d ever had. Sara this, Sara that… Sara hadn’t even deigned to tell him she intended to just let herself be shipped off and married and shelved away.
It was her turn to look away. Surprisingly, it was Kira’s eyes she met. Fathomless dark pools watched her carefully just over the edge of pages. He knew; there was no pity, just the knowledge. Usagi swallowed slowly, regretfully, before taking her hand away. He didn’t want to hold her hand, not really-not the way she wished he would. She’d seen the ring he’d given Sara when they were young; there had never been a piece of plastic for her own finger. “I won’t tell,” she mumbled, abandoning her unfinished obento. “I have to go now. I don’t feel so well,” she excused herself before all-but running away.
Later, looking out that same window at those same two birds, it was all she could do not to cry. All the world had been created in twos-there was no room for a “third.”