She doesn't know how she got in this situation.
Of course she does. Some holiday shopping to take her mind off of upcoming anniversaries, not bringing an umbrella because it's practically winter, and cutting through the park because its, well, a short cut. Besides, if she ran into muggers or youma, a quick thrust of her hand in the air and she can take care of herself! Usually! After she's done screaming!
However, there is still one foe, a life long enemy that has always been there, that she is helpless against.
KRA-BOOM!
Usagi shrieks as her legs freeze in place. Maybe it was an engine backfiring! Maybe it was--!
A sudden deluge, a strike of lightning, and another vicious crack in the atmosphere.
Usagi stayed frozen in her spot, hoping it was a quick little storm. Her heart pounds hard in her chest, her knees shake, and her fingers tremble as she finally gives in to the fear and pulls out the phone.
She almost speed dials, but Mamoru's been doing so good with his school stuff.
She almost goes to another speed dial. Rei's shrine isn't too far away!
Another crack of thunder and an exploding tree not far away, and the force of her jump causes her to accidentally fling her phone as she screams bloody murder.
Thunder. Now that's welcome. Kunzite lifts his attention - the shield that draws him upward to catch the second bolt, to feed it into his stored energies, also protects him from the wet and chill of the sudden cold rain. (Electricity is always, strangely, the best and most useful, the one he can manipulate the most freely, never mind that on the face of it electricity is something his powers should have little to do with at all. To find it loose in nature is precious --)
The bolt he intercepted, though, in its incomplete strike, did not sufficiently discharge the differential that spawned it. Shifted the most attractive locus a little, that's all. The next one comes fast, strikes a tree near him, leaves him ducking reflexively while his shield takes the brunt of flying splinters --
His shield does absolutely nothing against that scream.
It is not the one that's etched permanently on his heart. But it's too close to leave him capable of not reacting.
Teleports take too long. His flight's too slow. He leaps clear of the bubble, catches himself on the branch of a still-intact tree, leaps again. Following the sound. Until he can see the source. Flying golden hair, no hint of magic -- no-one around to hear.
"Usagi!"
-- can she hear him at all? He can't be sure.
Distracting one's self is supposed to help. It isn't, really, but that doesn't stop her from thinking that she could call Makoto once she's found her phone. Well, once she stops shaking enough to start looking, that is.
Jupiter's thunder and lightning are different. Through her, Usagi's able to enjoy the beauty of it. But here, in the wild of nature, it's far too untamed. And loud. And scary.
Somehow she hears her name. It's easily something she could have imagined. And if she weren't so petrified she'd be almost embarassed at being found by him. After all, here she was, shaking harder than she had during any encounter against him a year ago for a few months. She's stopped an asteroid from hitting the planet, defeated a megalomaniac from world domination and permanent boyfriend theft, and even managed to pass her classes, yet thunderstorms still had the power to reduce her to a quivering mass of fear.
(Of course, she'd never been alone during those times. And thunder's scary!)
But she is petrified. So instead of blushing or fidgeting or laughing it off, her expression when she spots him is one of terrified relief. "KunzAIEE!"
Another flash and crack, and any move she'd started to make froze as surely as her limbs did.
If she weren't absolutely drenched from the rain, her face would still be soaked. And if she lifts her arms toward him like a toddler who just woke up from a nightmare, can she really be blamed?
It's not, entirely, a secret. It's not the first thunderstorm of the year. He's seen her turn up at the apartment and bundle herself up against Mamoru's side. But he hasn't seen her outside in one. And he hasn't seen her alone.
He moves, and he moves fast; he's soaked to the skin himself, for the most part, but his cape is still warm and a little more waterproof, and he draws it around the both of them protectively. Arm around her shoulders. Some kind of shelter, and a little bit of heat through the cold water.
"Usagi," he says again. "It's all right. I won't let it get you." ... and if she screams in his ear again he may be half-deaf for a week. "Where can I take you?"
And suddenly, it was a lot less wet and a little less scary. Her small hands ball into tight little fists clitching his jacket hard enough to threaten permanent wrinkles.
And she feels safe enough that her next shriek, while still loud, isn't quite the ear piercing quality it usually is.
Where can what?
She snuggles closer at the promise of protection. Who she wants is her Mama and next her Papa, but it's Date Day for them both. A rare occasion where they're able to get away by themselves and be even more gross than they were at home with their lovey shmoopy stuff. (Which Usagi actually loves, not that she's let them know, because she's a teenager and smooching parents are supposed to be gross.)
She's shaking and crying still, though its unclear if the last one is because of the empty house or runover from earlier. "No one's h-home."
Shake shake shake.
Next safest, of course, is obvious. Or perhaps they're equally safe, at least on the placebo level, because technically Mamoru's spread of apartments housed by five boys who collectively assured destruction to anyone that blinked wrong at a select circle of people was the safest. "I won't get the couch wet!"
"No-one will worry if you get the couch wet," Kunzite promises her gravely. Never mind exactly how much water all that hair can be hiding. It's a wonder it's not dragging her backwards even as they speak. He draws her closer, steadying her a little more against the tremors. Not crushing her hands between them, though. Careful of hat. "It's all right. It's all right. Close your eyes for a few seconds, and we'll be right there."
If she closes her eyes, she can't see the darkness that floods up around them, and the cloak around them holds in body heat against the gentle chill of it. So it's only silence, maybe, and then there's floor under her feet instead of grass, and she can hear the metronome-tick of the clock that Ami gave the boys when they moved in ...
Usagi closes her eyes tight. She knows what's about to happen, doesn't want to see the stretch of nothing. Normally that wouldn't bother her, but when fear's already there its easier to grow.
And then, past the scent of wet hair and wool is the familiar smell of usually-clean boys. (She has a younger brother, she knows the scent of not-always-clean boys.)
That combined with the sound of the clock and the barely=there hum of various electrical appliances causes her tense muscles to relax. Compared to the howling wind of a few moments earlier, her ears almost popped at the sudden change.
She's still shaking, fingers still attached like velcro, but at this point she's facing the slow decent from terror.
"I didn't know it was supposed to rain..."
"Your phone will only tell you that if you look at it, it's true." They're dripping on the carpet. Kunzite is not in the slightest worried about this, because they're only dripping water, not biohazards. The weight of his arm remains steady around her shoulders, and he hasn't voiced any discomfort with how tightly she's holding on to the cloth yet. "Entirely unfair design. I wonder if we can convince someone to design you something that might give you a little more warning." And still be deceived every time magic affects the weather. Ah, well. The important part isn't whether the words are practical, or even make sense. The important part is that the voice they're spoken in is calm, is evenly paced. Something else to slow her heart and her breathing a little, to help call her back to herself.
Usagi nods. "That'd be nice." They're more of an automated response than anything. Someone says something, you say something back. But it helps, at least a little, as does the steady timbre of his voice. Slowly her fingers do loosen.
There is one benefit to being petrified, though. It chases everything else out, pushes it away until there is only that one, singular sensation. It's easy to understand even when it's threatening to give you a heart attack.
So Usagi brings up another protection mechanism and thinks about something else.
"I dropped my phone." There's sniffles, but fortunately for Kunzite's laundering bill, they land more or less on her own sleeve cuff.
Fingers loosening means his hold on her loosens in turn -- not that it ever kept her from escaping it if she wanted to, but it grows easier and easier. "Would you like me to go and get it for you?" Before it winds up drowned in a puddle, presumably. "While you change into something dry, perhaps? It'd be warmer."
Of course they have a change of clothes for Usagi on hand. Or three. If she didn't bring them over herself, sooner or later someone would've asked Zoisite to arrange it.
Usagi tenses for a moment. Be alone? In this?
But it's her phone. And even if its damaged, at least she'll have something to provide for whatever phone insurance thing there is.
Heh. That would be silly. Over a year as Sailor Moon and her phone gets damaged by mundane rain.
Finally she nods, stepping back and wiping her eyes before offering him a watery smile. "Yes, please."
She'll also have to comb her hair. But she can do that after getting the rest of her dried off.
He doesn't rush her; it's her own decision to make, and 'no, I want to lean on a person and hide' is, in this case, a perfectly valid option. When she does step back, though -- "You know where to find everything," Kunzite says quietly. "And I'll be back in a minute or two."
Because teleportation is cheating. And because whether or not her phone answers when he dials it, he'll be able to find it quickly enough -- lingering energy patterns at the very worst. And the very worst is not yet that likely.
Teleportation also consumes his own energy, though; so when he returns to the apartment, he steps from (wet) uniform to (dry) civilian clothes, hangs up his coat, ties his hair back (why that stayed soaked, he regards as a mystery he has no desire to answer at this time), wraps Usagi's phone in a towel, and pursues the next thing she'll need.
There will be cocoa.
It's a sniffling bunny girl that finds her pajamas folded up in the laundry area, all bunnies and fuzzy flannel. A towel is also acquired.
It doesn't take her long to get undressed, dried off, and redressed. In fact, it takes longer to get her hair down out of their buns and dry enough to not drip every where.
She clutches a comb tightly to her chest as she walks back out, jumping with a slight 'eep!' at the muffled sound of thunder.
Sounds in the kitchen area. Good.
By the time the next crack of thunder sounds, Kunzite has a tiny girl with a lot of hair huddled against him.
Kazuo is very careful not to spill anything heated on Usagi. Because this is not exhausted Mamoru's heating water in the microwave, no. He sets the whisk he was using to stir the milk aside, and shifts Usagi carefully so that he can get his left arm around her without losing his left hand completely to that hair. Adding the measuring cup of chocolate chips one-handed isn't hard. Trying to keep them from melting to the bottom is more difficult. Split attention. He'll survive.
"It's all right," he tells her quietly. "It can't get at you in here." Not with what they've had done to the walls. "It's all right. There'll be chocolate in a couple of minutes." If that doesn't get to her, it's possible nothing will.
The voice, the arm, watching him work his cocoa magic, pretty soon she's down to only flinching at the booms.
Pretty pretty soon her nose is twitching as she sniffs the air. "It smells so good. You make better cocoa than Mama! But don't tell her I said that..."
Some more flinching, but it really is decidedly better this time.
And she stares at the cocoa for a moment. And she's really looking forward to it, can already taste it on her tongue.
But still.
"Hey...Kunzite? If we were dating, what would make you break up with me?"
Better than her mother? "Only," he tells her gravely, "because I cheat." How this is possible, he does not explain. Only keeps an eye carefully on what he's doing, occasionally shifting to stir more carefully -- one-handed efforts are always a risk, and 'do not scald Usagi' is still a priority. Especially when she jumps.
That's all right. Even with the terror, she's not much of a distraWHAT DID SHE JUST SAY.
"Well," he says, very slowly. "I trust that, in that sort of situation, Mamoru would find a newspaper in order to roll it up and hit me with it if I were being an idiot. Which would seem the most likely reason." He considers again, careful, trying to analyze the question on multiple levels with a brain that is still stuck on WHAT. "Possibly if I thought, for some reason, that the situation were damaging to you somehow. Though I trust I'd have the sense to discuss it with you, in that case. Possibly if some other situation were affecting me so that I did not have the ability to do you justice. Possibly if the situation were damaging some third party, somehow -- but you're familiar with that one." In that Kunzite is still very careful indeed to make sure that he never takes Mamoru's attention if Usagi needs it, for instance.
Usagi nods, listening to his words and at this point she's more leaning against him than clinging to him. Her jumps are more jerks than anything else, brief tensing of muscles that are quickly released.
"I don't think...she was being an idiot. She just..." Usagi shrugs. "One minute everything's fine, then I don't really hear from her for a few days, and then today when I went over..."
Her throat tightens and her face screws up again. This time it wasn't from fear, but from hurt. "I told her it was okay, but--"
Leaning against Kazuo means that he can reclaim his other hand now and then, briefly. Which is useful when the time comes to pour the chocolate out into cups. Reaching for the refrigerator to get down the previously prepped bowl of whipped cream does not, again, need both hands. This is good, because --
-- because he has the time left over to turn off the burner, and then Usagi finishes saying that.
"Something happened, then," Kazuo says quietly. "Something during those few days." His other arm settles around her, and he bends his head down toward hers -- his hair being pulled back keeps that from making a curtain of white to blur her vision. "Quite likely nothing to do with you at all. She may be hurt, or upset, or unsteady. It may take her time to be ready to talk about it. We won't really know till then."
His arms tighten, silent now.
It takes him a little time to be able to say the other part in words. "I'm sorry, Usagi."
Her throat closes tightly but there's whipped cream and almost everything's made better with whipped cream. And hot cocoa.
Her eyes are large as they look up at him, perhaps made a bit larger because of the tears.
She nods, hearing his logic and tucking them away for when she can listen to them.
"I don't have to find out right away, do I? I can just be hurt for a little bit, right?"
And he's worried about her. Of course he is. So she offers him a smile, as watery as it is. "I'll be okay. Don't worry."
"Yes." She doesn't need his permission, or his opinion. He gives it anyway, because she asked. "It's all right to just be hurt for a while. Everyone who matters will understand." Even he managed it. After a few moments. "And yes. You will be okay. But it's all right to take a little time getting there, too. Even with people who love you trying to help."
There's more of a slump now, but not so much that he's supporting her completely. "Okay. Good."
There's a moment where she presses her face into his shoulder, hiding, and her body tensing. When she pulls back, her face is a little more wet, but at least she can speak!
"Yeah. I probably shouldn't tell Mamo-chan until after he's done with his study stuff. I don't want him distracted."
"Usagi," Kunzite says quietly. "He's done with the worst of it, for now. And I am almost certain that he was studying so hard now ... so that he'd have time when you needed him, later. This is later. This counts."
Her eyebrows raise as she glances in the direction of Mamoru's room. To say she's tempted to just go in there now and climb on him and believe it or not she's holding back right now.
And in this moment, really, only the reminder that hot cocoa, and that Kunzite had made hot cocoa, is here.
"'Now' after a cup of cocoa still counts, right?"
There's a step farther that can be taken. Because the recipe that Kazuo follows, by default, makes four cups.
"You could," he suggests to Usagi, "bring him one."
She chews her lip. This sounds like a Very Good Idea!
"Well...he does like cocoa. And he's probably looking all adorable and messy haired right now. Probably napping on his keyboard."
Of course, her instincts tell her 'tread lightly,' at least at first. At least let the boy know she's coming.
(Timing for Rei to break up with her? Worst. Possible. Ever. Yay anniversaries, especially those horrible ones!)
And the storm's died down just enoug that the thunder is more a distant rumble. Still scary, but at least she's not in danger of leaping to the ceiling.
But well, either way this goes.
She leans up on her tippiest of toes and kisses Kunzite's cheek. "Thank you for saving me."
Kazuo leans his head down against Usagi's for a moment, damp white hair mingling with damp golden. "I'm only glad I happened to be close enough to hear." No matter how far that can potentially be when she wails like that. Still --
Tomorrow he needs to take care of Mamoru, or Mamoru won't be any use to anyone, Usagi especially. But tonight, perhaps. Tonight can be hers. And they were already planning for the day after tomorrow. And between times, there's Naru, and Makoto, and Zoisite, and her family. Whatever happened --
Whatever happened, they can get her through this.