======================================= Angel of Chronos: CHAPTER TWO |>õ<| / \ --- DIVINE INTERVENTION ======================================= by: Spatula Gurl (Rated G) "A clouded dream on an earthly night Hangs upon the crescent moon A voiceless song in an ageless light Sings at the coming dawn..." -- The Mystic's Dream, Loreena McKennitt "Kunzite-san? Are you ready to leave?" The silver-haired man looked up distractedly from the papers he was browsing through and frowned. "Ogasarawa-san?" Mitsumi knit her own brows as she heard the man address her so formally as he usually did. She insisted that, being partners, he should be calling her in a more familiar manner. But Kunzite never seemed to hear much about anything she had to say, except when it was about business, to her irritation. If he wasn't such an interesting man himself, she wouldn't bother to put up with him in the first place other than talking about the next project or plan for the company. In truth, Kunzite was only one of the very few men who have managed to catch Mitsumi's attention. She wasn't much for relationships. For her, there was only one important rule in life: never to trust anyone other than yourself. And she never mixed business with pleasure. Men who have long been vying for her attention were given a disconcerting cold shoulder. She knew she was attractive, bearing a face that was too striking to ignore: piercing eyes of green, a wide, luscious mouth when it wasn't pursed in a straight line and prominent cheekbones. Even with plain grooming (her shoulder-length brown hair always held up in a tight bun, and a pair of glasses rested on the bridge of her nose), she almost always caught the attention of every passerby, especially with her tall, demanding presence. But for the moment, there was only one person whom she cared to interest. And he was looking back at a pile of papers. Kunzite. His being handsome was one thing. The first time she met him, she actually looked twice to make sure she wasn't seeing things. It was probably the only time she ever looked at a man's facial features closely before, but she could not help it. Her curiousity was piqued almost immediately the moment her eyes locked with cold, silver ones. There was something in him that made everyone feel intrigued, not just because of his exceptional looks but also because of his enigmatic aura. And then to find out that he was the 28-year old business tycoon whom all of Japan was talking about...she was most definitely interested. From then on, Kunzite was marked as a conquest. That he was attractive was a definite bonus. And as far as Mitsumi was concerned, he wouldn't be known as the most eligible bachelor of Tokyo for long. Sure, it was taking a tad longer than expected to get through the man's indifferent nature, but she attested that to the fact that she was a new hand at making a man take deliberate notice of her stately self. And she was nothing if not confident. She cleared her throat impatiently and Kunzite's eyes drifted upwards towards hers again. "Seven o'clock, remember? We have a dinner meeting with the people at the Art Museum. And you did promise to give me a ride home home right after." Kunzite glanced at his watch. "It's only 6:40. Are you sure we're not too early?" "Not at all," she replied, pushing back her glasses. "The distance is not far, but we have to beat the early evening traffic." "Very well," Kunzite said. Then, bringing his attention back to the paper he was holding, he continued, "Just give me two more minutes." Mitsumi smiled stiffly in reply as she nodded her consent. "...and this piece was done by Yakao Ikeda. Brilliant pick of colors, don't you think so, Minamoto-sama?" Gendo Nomuro smiled nervously, absently brushing back the wisps of snow-white hair on top of his head. He paused for a moment as he silently watched the two important people before him, waiting anxiously for any positive reaction. The younger man before him studied the painting briefly with inscrutable silver eyes that made Gendo even more nervous. "Well, what about it, Kunzite-san?" the woman beside him asked, and Gendo's gaze flew to her, then back to the man, awaiting a response. "Not this one," he replied shortly in a deep voice that almost made the old man jump back in surprise. "We need antiques." Mitsumi nodded and turned to Gendo. "Where are the antiques and heirlooms?" "This way, sir, ma'am," he offered quickly in return, leading them to another gallery. This time, he brought them to a heavily ornamented space with gold and deep crimson drapes, highlighting the beautiful art pieces in velvet cushions and glass cases. He led them further towards walls of different paintings then cleared his throat. "Here it is," he said, gesturing with an arm to the rows of painted art. "On this part are the ancient Japanese scrolls and art of early 1900's. These are done by the great Ogata Gassan." Gendo gave brief introductions on the more famous pieces, expounding more on the historical value and symbolisms. On he chattered, as Kunzite's eyes drifted around the wide expanse of the room, looking for the one painting that would catch his attention. There were plenty of beautiful creations in fact, but none seemed to appeal to him, or was at least appropriate for what he had in mind. He seemed quite oblivious to the few people inside the museum, glancing his way every now and then in mute interest. "These are from the Renaissance. This one is an 'egg tempera', depicting the famous lovers Selene and Endymion in--" Gendo trailed off, noticing that Kunzite Minamoto had his gaze steadily directed at one of the larger works from the foreign gallery. "Pardon me, sir, but have you..." Mitsumi interrupted with the same thought. "Seen what you've been looking for?" She followed his gaze as she voiced out the question. Her eyes soon settled curiously on a piece of Spanish artwork. It was an oil on canvas of a woman's life-like face which seemed to be etched in old parchment. The face was beautiful, framed in light-colored tendrils of hair, drawn in scratched, slender lines outlined in a dark gold ink. The woman in the painting was looking heavenward, her lips parted slightly, and her delicate palm extended out as if waiting to catch something about to be dropped. Loosely wrapped around her arm were gauzy threads of ribbons. And etched faintly on the area just above her palm was a circular object resembling a clock with old roman numerals and black arrows. Kunzite frowned slightly as he looked at it. "What is this one called?" "I-it's called 'Chronos' Curse', sir," Gendo quickly replied. "It's a Spanish rendition of a painting made by an unknown artist from Greece." "And where is the original?" "It was never found, sir. It was last seen in a temple at Constantinople before if fell to ruins during a Mongol raid." Mitsumi interrupted. "Then how did this version come about?" "It was said that the painting carried a small story with it, ma'am, a legend of some sort," Gendo explained. "It was believed that this painting was based on the tales told of its predecessor." Mitsumi raised a brow upon hearing that, while Kunzite asked, "What was the legend?" "Unfortunately, sir, the story itself faded with the passage of time. In the years past, some people came out with different variations of it that all of them was barely believable, although one part remained constant all throughout. They all maintained that it was about a woman cursed by time." "What, she died at 200?" Mitsumi scoffed. "Next, you'll be telling me that whoever owns it will be given the same curse!" "None that I know of has ever complained about it while it was still in their possession," Gendo informed her politely. "And almost all stories alluding to this painting were of a romantical nature." He eased up into a smile as he thought about it, momentarily forgetting his earlier state of anxiousness. They were silent for a brief moment until Mitsumi spoke up. "Well? Are you going to use this, Kunzite-san?" she asked. "It's fitting, after all. It's quite good and still in excellent condition. Not as overused as the 'Mona Lisa' or the 'Birth of Venus'. Plus the little story behind it may just prove to be advantageous." There was a pause as both Mitsumi and Gendo waited for Kunzite's reaction. Then, "Perhaps," he replied, as his eyes continued to study the artwork before him. His eyes fell particularly upon the image of the circular time keeper, silently musing at how much fine details were put into a tiny piece. The black arrows seemed to glint strangely under the lights, as the shorter one pointed at the roman numeral ten, and the other at twelve. "Let's take a look at the others before we decide," he said, finally tearing his gaze off the painting. "That last one, Selene and Endymion, might do just as well." But even as he said it, a pair of silver eyes took a final glance at the woman's immortalized face before looking away. "Kunzite-san, is anything the matter? You seem awfully quiet this evening." Kunzite cocked a brow as he gave the woman a sideways glance before turning his eyes back on the road. It was not like Mitsumi Ogasarawa to show concern on matters such as his silence. Especially when he was *always* silent. "Why do you ask?" "Oh, well, it was just a thought," she replied, with a small shrug. He continued to drive as she kept light chatter about upcoming projects with the Fujisawa Corporation, reminding him of several business meetings for next week. Kunzite soon pulled over as he reached a handsome Victorian house on the corner of a lamplit street. Mitsumi bid him a "Thank you" and "Goodnight" as she pushed open the door, but suddenly paused as if she just remembered something. With a slight frown, she told him, "Be sure to rest well, Kunzite-san..." A pause. She reached out and touched his hand, gaining the full impact of his eyes staring at her inscrutably, but with an almost unnoticeable tinge of surprise. "You look...tired," she said. "Please rest well." And with that, she bid him another good night before taking off, leaving him with a rare emotion crossing his handsome features. Puzzlement. He went home wondering about Mitsumi Ogasarawa that night. There was something in that look she gave him, something different from the way she usually communicated with her cold, emerald eyes. For that one brief moment, he felt that he was looking at her for the first time. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. He was not totally dense. He knew that was the first hint of interest he has ever received from his business partner. But he had always thought of her as one of the women who were out to prove that they needed no men to survive in the harsh modern world. Lightning sounded from the outside as heavy rain began to fall. Kunzite was only thankful that he was able to reach home before the storm started. Taking off his cloak, he headed to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee while listening to his answering machine. But as soon as the third voice cracked through the wires, he froze. It was his aunt. And she was reminding him of the family gathering to be held at their mansion next week. Of course, she was suggesting he bring a friend along. And he could bet his pants off she wasn't referring to a friend of the same sex. He sighed again as he pushed open his bedroom door, loosening his shirt and tie as he got inside. His aunt had adopted him when his parents died before he even reached his twelfth year. And ever since he had turned twenty, she had been insisting he find himself a loving wife that would take care of him for the rest of his life. And he had always laughed at her for her foolish notions. Cynical as he was, he didn't believe in thatold faith. He allowed that it could happen, but unconciously, he never considered himself as one of those people who would experience it. It just never occured to him that it might happen to himself because the picture just didn't fit him. Oh, marriage was not far from his mind, however. He believed he would eventually have to marry some daughter of a rich businessman whom he'd seal a contract with. Wasn't that the case for most marriages in his field? He dismissed of doing the marital act simply for love, as his aunt would insist upon. It just didn't make sense that he should do it without gaining any benefits for himself and the other party. Those thoughts aside, he decided to appease his aunt by coming at the party with a female. And that led him back to Mitsumi, who seemed the obvious choice. If he were to contemplate a serious relationship, it would definitely be with her. Already they had much in common. She was intelligent, practical and she was the daughter of Seichi Ogasarawa. Marriage with her would form a good alliance with her father's company. She may not fit the picture of the warm, smiling wife his aunt wanted for him, but he viewed her as the best choice for himself. But what if he did find someone his aunt would approve of? The thought brought a slightly bemused look on his face. What would it be like to live in a fairytale marriage? With a warm and loving wife and three adorable kids? He frowned slightly. It was not difficult to imagine, and strangely, it was somewhat a pleasant thought...but why dwell on the impossible and unreal? Some people may be foolish enough to think of themselves fortunate, affording to live the illusion of that 'luxury' but he had more sense to know it did not exist. He almost laughed out loud. So many people insisted on living a lie, in wishing for an angel straight from the heavens. But... In such lies, they found contentment. An angel on earth. Imagine that. Loud thunder rumbled from the skies and lightning cracked soon after. The spatter of heavy raindrops filled his ears, breaking him from his train of thoughts. Taking his shirt off, he glanced at the clock on the desk in front of the mirror. Exactly ten o'clock. He usually slept around eleven, but he felt so exhausted he decided to sleep right then. Another lightning, louder than before. It was so loud, he began to wonder if the storm was more damaging than he first thought it was. He turned around to head for his bed, but he stopped short, alarmed by a shadowy figure on top of it. He jumped back, his eyes narrowing to slits. Was he seeing things? Or was there truly an intruder inside his room? But before he could do anything, another lightning illuminated through the darkness of the room, confirming what his two eyes had discerned. There was indeed a person inside his room. A female, sitting on top of his bed, was staring up at him with large blue eyes. His eyes widened, a look of surprise and rage dawning on his handsome features. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?" he roared. ___________________________________________________________________________ Send comments to: Spatula Gurl a u t h o r ' s |>õ<| n o t e s : You know, while writing this chapter, I just realized I have this fascination for ancient art and legends. They influenced me much while I was writing "The Legend of Serenity" (the title itself is a dead giveaway) and now even this! ^^; Anyway, comments, please! ^_^; I'm sorry the first part is dragging, but I had to emphasize on Kunzite and his thoughts. >> "Mona Lisa" is by the great Leonardo da Vinci. You can't be smarter than a brick wall if you think I own that painting, or worse, made it. >> "Birth of Venus" is by the famous Sandro Boticelli. >> "Egg tempera" is a technique of painting where egg yolks are used as a binder. They are combined with the pigments to make tempera paint. ___________________________________________________________________________