#helichibi

@senshixshitennouweeks

"OK, spill."

Chibiusa nearly jumped out of her skin, her pencil clattering to the floor. Vesves stood in front of her desk, arms crossed and annoyance written all over her face.

"Spill what?"

"You've been staring off into space and drawing horses for a week now. What's got you so mucky?"

Chibiusa looked down at her English notebook. The margins were littered with fat little doodles of unicorns and cowboy boots. She felt her face heating.

"No reason," she said, a little too loudly as she slammed her notebook shut and shoved it back into her backpack.

"You're going to need that for class," Vesves said as she walked away.

Chibiusa huffed, fishing her notebook back out.

@senshixshitennouweeks

She was so beautiful in the throes of slumber.

He'd met her in her youth, when she had been but a beaming little girl, sweet and selfless towards a poor trapped horse.

Now, she had grown into her title of princess.

The curves of her slender body, the pallor of her skin, the shimmer of her rosy hair in the moonlight.

And her dreams.

Oh, her dreams!

Sunsets dancing into starry night skies, trees with abundant vibrant fruits of every shape and size, sugary sweets and nothing but joy. If he could run through those dreams every night, he would.

If he could hear her laughter, watch these dreams form like planets out of the cosmic dust of her memories for hours on end, he would.

But it wasn’t to be.

Helios had sworn an oath to the royal family of the Earth that his first and foremost duty to the safety of the Golden Crystal and to its protectors.

Lady Serenity would remain far away from him, even now that she was a young woman.

@senshixshitennouweeks

This shouldn’t be happening. Couldn’t be happening.

This morning, Chibiusa had been a starving artist, trying to meet the deadline for what would have been her first published story (ever).

Only for some goon in army fatigues to drive a truck into her workplace and try to shoot her. It was like something out of a movie.

Especially the part when another person, a lanky cotton topped man she didn’t know, shot her attacker and dragged her into a nearby car.

Now, they were disregarding traffic laws all while he babbled intensely at her.

“All right, listen,” he said, “The Terminator's an infiltration unit: part man, part machine.”

Her “rescuer” swerved left, bumping harshly over a curb and

“Underneath, it's a hyperalloy combat chassis, microprocessor-controlled. Fully armored; very tough. But outside, it's living human tissue.”

Another swerve.

“Flesh, skin, hair, blood - grown for the cyborgs.

This was insane. Maybe if she reasoned with him, Chibiusa could get this man to pull over and let her go.

“Look, I don't know what you want from...”

“Pay attention!”

He didn’t sound angry; more just… scared.

“We have to ditch this car,” he said, his eyes returning to the road.

Five minutes later, the car darkened. From the concrete and other vehicles surrounding them, it seemed that they had just turned into a parking garage. The man pulled them in between a Humvee and a panel van. He roughly grabbed her shoulder and pushed the two of them down so they were beneath the line of the window.

Only then, did the tension the young man held seemed to release. He seemed to sink back into the seat, eyes closed. For a moment, Chibiusa wondered if he was asleep, before he startled her when he spoke again.

“The 600 series had rubber skin. We spotted them easy, but these are new. They look human... sweat, bad breath, everything. Very hard to spot. I had to wait till he moved on you before I could zero him.”

Zero him? What did that even mean? Forget reasoning, she thought, this guy can go climb a tree.

“I am not stupid,” she said, mustering as much steel as she could into her voice, “They cannot make things like that yet.

The man turned his head towards her, golden eyes sleepy but entirely focused.

“Not yet,” he said, “not for about 40 years.”

“Are you saying it's from the future?”

He turned his head away, closing his eyes again.

“One possible future. From your point of view. I… don't know tech stuff.”

“Then you're from the future, too. Is that right?”

The man nodded, his eyes still closed. For a moment, Chibiusa wondered which lunatic asylum this man had escaped from. Then she wondered if it was all true; if the shooter was some kind of future robot, that this man was a time traveler and why her of all people was caught between them.

Then she realized she had yet to ask one of the most basic of all questions.

“What’s your name?”

The man's eyes fluttered open.

“What?”

“Your name?” she repeated.

With a tenderness she didn't understand, the man's gaze met her own.

@senshixshitennouweeks

“They’re so hot!”

Helios laughed and held up a napkin to Chibiusa.

“Here. You might need this.”

Chibiusa grabbed the proffered napkin away from her boyfriend and scrubbed vigorously at her mouth and fingers.

“The waiter said those were the least spicy!” she said, before trying to douse the burning in her mouth with her drink.

“Maybe for the next round, we’ll order some of the barbecue wings?” Helios suggested, looking fondly at her.

Chibiusa nodded.

@senshixshitennouweeks

Her laughter was the first thing he heard from her. He’d been working the carousel on the boardwalk to pay for seminary school (not many career opportunities for someone who could play the organ in the area). He saw her carrying a massive white unicorn plushy, the kind they were giving to winners at the ski ball game who got three hundred points or more. Her hair was her most notable feature, thick and done up in a double bun style which vaguely reminded him of rabbit ears. She wore a ruffled pink top and a pair of jeans. Pretty standard wear for the summer heat but she wore it so, so well. He almost forgot to start the music for the ride he was so busy watching her climb onto the white wooden horse she chose as her carousel steed.

As the ride sped up, more of that angelic laughter rang over the music he played and just made him giddy.

Who are you, he thought, and how do you just make everything so rosy?

The ride ran down and the girl left, joining what he assumed were her friends. Helios could curse the rest of his shift. How would he find her before she left? Already, she was disappearing into the sea of people. A quick check to see if anyone was watching. Helios rose and hoped that they could find an organist before he got back.

*

He’d been unable to find her between the food stands and the Ferris wheel. Not a single strand of pink hair anywhere.

“Looking for someone?”

From his grizzled rail thin appearance, some said Old Pete had been part of the boardwalk since it’s inception. He usually worked odd jobs around it, but no-one was really sure what he did exactly.

“Yes,” Helios replied, “have you seen a girl; pink hair, carrying a white unicorn doll?”

Old Pete stuck a piece of tobacco into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Helios was unsure why he would still chew it with all everyone knew about the habit these days.

“Over by the roller coaster,” he said at last.

Helios thanked him and made a beeline for the coaster.

“And don’t worry about the carousel,” Old Pete called after him, “I took piano for five years.”

Honestly, Old Pete was a lifesaver.

*

Helios had not expected to be accosted by a unicorn plush when he arrived at the roller coaster. It was only after he removed it from his head did he realize that it was the same one the pink-haired girl was carrying. And suddenly, she’s there.

“Sorry,” she said, looking sheepish, “lost that on the ride.”

“It’s no bother,” he replies, handing it back to her. Their fingers brush and he’s conscious of it. Really, he should just forget how his heart’s tightening or that he was blowing off work to chase a girl and just go about his life.

“I’m Helios,” he says instead.

The girl smiles.

@senshixshitennouweeks

Dreams, they both knew, were limitless.

When he had been trapped in a cage, crying out for help all those many years ago, he dreamed of clear blue skies with endless clouds and the warm sun, green fields running below for miles that you could smell, could feel underfoot, could know meant life was still worth taking in.

When she had been a little girl, she knew dreams could be translated onto paper, in brush strokes and the scratch of a pencil. She knew dreams came to us in the night like old friends, offering glimpses of the future and our desires, our most precious memories.