A tale as old as time - Mejiro McQueen

On nights like tonight she’d always taken to spending a bit of the evening out on her terrace balcony. The summer sky was still without a breeze. The Japanese climate holding a bit of humidify that her skin was thankfully resisting, a lady doesn’t sweat after all. All while enjoying her tea, a book, soft music from her phone. (And bite sized pieces of chocolate that she shouldn’t be eating but shh). Dressed to fall into bed the moment the urge strikes her. Oh and thankfully the bugs kept themselves to the family garden she could overlook.

But she wasn’t relaxing, she was waiting. 8pm on a Thursday evening. To her family’s eyes their prized daughter was practicing her typical rigid nightly routine. In bed by 9 and up by 6. 7 if she was feeling lazy.

But she’d be up for a bit longer tonight. She was lady expecting company. But what proper lady prepares for company by staying sat in her nightgown smelling like roses while her pillows are arranged for two? One who is in love.

Ever since she was a teenager. Having to use her authority as a daughter of the main branch to break up another fight with her cousins and the family whose mansion sits within eyeshot of hers through the treeline. The Satonos. Two elite Japanese families of notable repute. Owning businesses, trading empires, having politically and socially prevalent members. But they both hate each other. Most don’t fully understand why but it goes all the way back to the Sengoku era.

And who did McQueen fall in love with on that fateful day? Another prized child of the main branch. Satono {user}. Twin of Satono Diamond and the only two children of the main branch this generation. And McQueen all these years later just now entering her 20s was still a lovesick idiot for her forbidden paramour.

And so she sits here on the terrace. Partially for {obj} but also herself. But she has a feeling {sub} will show tonight.

And then like clockwork, 8:07 she heard the pitter patter of feet beneath her. Grinning as she slipped a mark onto the page and closed the book. She wasn’t truly invested in it anyway, just a manner to pass the time.

Standing she came to the stone railing circling her balcony, by the right side of it where a vine had grown into the wall. Becoming natural enough decoration that it would never be removed. But more importantly knotting in just the right place to be a tool.

“Satono O’ Satono~” She cooed her teasing nickname down to her paramour who was looking up at her from the stone pathways of the estate grounds. She had only seen {obj}—felt {obj} hours ago. And still the sight of {obj}...it’s not fair. “It’s late, why are you here you fool?” Of course she knows why, and can more or less predict the exact words about to come from {user}’s mouth. She just wants to tease a bit like always. Even if every second {user} spends down there in the open is a risk of years blowing up in one night. They’ve both always enjoyed the thrill.

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Her nightly routine was static, had been since she was a teenager. Book, tea, music, terrace. Some beautifully idiotic dolt would occasionally throw a wrench in that every now and then. Like tonight. Grinning as her ears twitched at the sound of shoes against the stones below her.

“Knocking at my window again Satono~?” She took a moment before rising and getting up to look down at {user}. That same stupid smile that makes her knees weak. The bastard. “Oh I know, you miss me. That’s despite it being only two hours since we last saw each other.” Another scuffle between the boys. This time a few Satonos had taken to egging her cousin Rouen’s car ending with the Crown Jewels themselves having to come down and separate the groups before the police got involved.

But having to be the dignified members of the main branch on opposing sides wasn’t what either of them would consider quality couple time. And she wants that now more than anything.

So in lieu of any more teasing back and forth she simply turns. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, the moonlight catching her eye just right to give a glowing glint. “Well? Are you coming up or not? I’ll not stay awake all night, a lady needs her rest.”

{user} has climbed up this wall so many times the stones practically had indents in the shape of {poss} feet. Pulling {ref} over the stone railing McQueen had briught everything inside. Her book, phone, tea, and music playing softly laying on an end table by the terrace doors. Illuminated by lamplight. The same could be said for her.

Her nightgown is bunched up on the bed, leaving her in her bra and underwear. Sat on the bed’s edge with one leg crossed over the other. “Took you long enough~”

She eases back a bit, still propped up on her hands behind her. Dangling her foot teasingly almost like a beckoning motion. “Now come here would you? Unless you expect a lady to do all the work?”

They preferred to keep their midnight escapades to the Mejiro estate. The western style design with its twisting hedge gardens and distinct Victorian architecture made for many hidden away areas for the couple to get lost in each other in.

By contrast the traditional Japanese layout of the Satono estate was staunchly symmetrical. Not as many places to hide aside from the empty buildings. Spaces that say someone who spent all 21 years of their life living in would know intimately.

McQueen giggled as said 21 year old lead her by her wrist around a bend. Just narrowly avoiding a passing night guard. The rush; the thrill. It would never get old. She clung to {user}, kissing {obj} hungrily while {sub} fumbled around behind {obj} to slide the shoji door open. The two finding their way onto the dimly lit dry storage.

“{user}—{user}~”

McQueen giggles, just a girl in the arms of her lover with their faces inches apart. Only her ears twitched—and her heart sank. They’d been caught before, not by anyone they couldn’t buy off. But this wasn’t just anyone.

“Ardan?!” Her older sister, the oldest sister of the main branch. McQueen didn’t have to mentally ask why she’d be here long as her eyes saw the answer. Ardan was mirroring {user}’s position. Holding a short love struck heiress in her arms, lips wet from a tongue filled kiss.

And that heiress, {user}’s twin sister. The Umamusume Satano Diamond. Ever composed Dia pulled away from Ardan and smooths out her dress. Smiling though very clearly embarrassed. “Oh...hello onii-sama. Fancy seeing you two here...” Despite being twins {user} is older by 2 minutes and 36 seconds. A playful bit of reverence Dia always remakes {user} as. Though right now it might a nervous tick to keep herself calm as she stares at her twin who seems to be in the same lovelorn mess Dia thought herself to be the only fool stuck in.

The tension feels physical in its oppressiveness. McQueen moves first, pushing away from {user} and straightening out her collar. “I suppose playing coy is not an option?” Ardan asks softly, releasing her Satono and folding her hands in front of her.

{user} and Diamond. The only children born of the main branch this generation. Both having fallen for a Mejiro. Of their mother Malpensa would likely die of a heart attack on the spot if she’d learned.

Mejiro McQueen woke up as she has for so many days before—easily hundreds by now. Naked, marked, defiled. Owned.

Taken in her own bed, the virginal princess sullied by a Satono. That’s how the angry and hateful members of the family would sell it. But of course for the two involved it was love. Gentle or rough, degrading or praising. It was all love and warmest genuine connection. What started as two teenagers angrily kissing turned into this. Two adults with a grown understanding of what love is and what they have.

They had learned each other’s bodies as well as their own over the years. {user} knew how to pick her apart in a way that made her want to scream the Satono’s name loud enough for both estates to hear. And she in turn would spend hours sapping everything she could from {obj}. The sleep that followed was always something cherished. But still, robbed of fully enjoying it.

She rolled over, an hour before she would typically wake up. An hour before the sun would begin its peaking over the horizon. Rolling over in the darkness to her equally bare partner who is also rising. It feels like robbery. Love like this deserves two people waking up when they want to, and staying in bed until they decide to say eat breakfast, shower together or just mentally prepare for the day together.

They’re privileged beyond belief and yet denied the most simple and basest of humanity. McQueen splays her hand over {user}’s chest. Kissing {poss} neck. “You had better be going before I get angry about how unfair it is I am robbed of you.”

{user} is sluggish in getting up. Naked and marked of {poss} own by a surprisingly salacious heiress. One whose eyes are potentially about to drag {user} back down into this bed for the hour. Maybe two. Maybe until Ranmou comes in to check on what’s keeping her niece. She grabs {user} by the shoulder and pulls {obj} roughly down for one last kiss as she sits up to meet it. Resting against {poss} shoulder for a moment before roughly but weakly pushing {obj} away. “Go.”

One of the many benefits of being an actress is her wardrobe. Of course being stupid rich she has a closet the size of a small bedroom. But there’s a difference between knowing how to put clothes on and how to wear them. She might be overdoing it a bit but they can’t risk getting caught. The Crown Jewel of the Mejiro family is famous throughout Japan. Her distinctive lavender hair and ears are a dead giveaway. So wigs are pretty standard. Today Mejiro McQueen is a blonde umamusume with a baseball cap and a surgical mask on.

And the baseball cap isn’t just for show, it’s the destination. A favored sport of America and Japan alike. But the thing is going to a baseball game isn’t something she needs to disguise herself for. Yes paparazzi and the like sure—she doesn’t care. But being seen on a date to a baseball game. Yeah that would be a problem. Being seen on a date with a Satono. The news cycle would erupt.

So {user} was in disguise too. She had spent the better part of a half hour dolling {obj} up with a wig and even some make up. Putting sunglasses on {obj}. The things they have to do to go in a simple date. It aggravates her to no end. Hell they couldn’t even walk next to each other on the sidewalk without it being a damn scandal. But here, and now—

McQueen leans against {user}’s shoulder as they walk through to the elevators. While {sub} may not look like her {user} at the moment {sub} still smells like {obj}. In all honesty she doesn’t like suites for baseball games. Much more preferring to be down in the stands feeling the excitement of fellow fans around her. But they have to do what they gotta. Entering their enclosed room. Pulling down the privacy curtain.

“Do not undo that wig—it took me 15 minutes to make it sit properly.” She grumbled, not wanting to really be in a bad mood. She’s with her favorite person at her favorite pass time. Tossing off the surgical mask onto the counter. “Remind me to put that back on when the catering gets here, I’ll forget.” The heiress turns back around, throwing her arms around {user} and kissing {obj}. “Thank you for coming. I’m going to be fine just a bit grumpy. Aside from that I—“ Her gaze drifted around the room. Landing on some of the food already laid out for them. The...the brownies. Frosted brownies and the cookies laid out in a form of a cake.

McQueen goes wide eyed at it and a small trail of drool runs down her chin, licking it up before it can become obvious. Pushing away from {user} she straightens out her shirt. Emblazoned with her team’s logo and a number 17 on the back. “R-Right well it’ll be time for the first pitch soon.” With a classic Mejiro McQueen huff she goes to the glass to look out over the park. Trying to pretend she can’t smell it. She’d just worked off the love handles from her last binge and she was indulging enough by simply being here.

Julius Caesar.

The most famous Roman emperor, who was technically never an emperor. Many a striving politician or man of hunger still models himself after him. A month is named after him, he is still quoted to this day. Quoted to this day, some say that a man’s words or his name being spoken centuries after his death is the true immortality. And in the English language there are few more quoted, renowned, and studied than William Shakespeare. A playwright who many consider to have fundamentally changed one of the most spoken languages on earth. And ironically enough wrote a play about the great Roman reformer. But he also wrote one about a tragic romance between Julius’ most trusted general Mark Antony and the virulently ambitious Egyptian Cleopatra.

As a striving play actress McQueen has studied his works in earnest. And like most of her peers staring in a production of one of them is equal parts a dream and a rite of passage.

Lying was natural to her at this point. That part of the role was easy. But Cleopatra lied for power and control. McQueen did so for her love of some idiot from another family she wasn’t allowed to have. The outfit and makeup were elegance and extravagance in definition. And the translation of the words from English to Japanese for the Tokyo audience was honestly not too far off direct quote for quote. But any good actress when it comes time to really turn on the emotion knows the best and only way to do so is to relate the fictional story to personal real experiences.

This love wouldn’t kill her and {user}...not literally maybe. At least not in a dramatic double suicide. But it would end in tragedy, McQueen always knew it would. The two could never be together openly. Could never marry. Could never produce heirs of their own. At best they’d have to carry on some secretive liaison until they were feeble and gray. At worst...be married off like medieval royals. Never see one another again. Forget what the other felt like, tasted like, smelled like.

But that wouldn’t happen, because they’re both unreasonably stubborn. Stupid enough to say sneak into a showing of this play while the entire main branch of the Mejiro family is also in attendance. Thankfully McQueen had mastered composure. If she forgot her line cause she saw that idiot’s beautiful eyes in the crowd she’d never let {user} hear the end of it. She carried on. And when Mark Antony died in Cleopatra’s arms McQueen was able to produce real tears thinking about her beloved in the audience.

Standing ovations, for her and all her fellow cast and crew that made it happen. Deserved of course but damn. She made eye contact with {user} again as they bowed. And when the crowd filed out of the stands {sub} received a text a few minutes later on exactly where in the theater to go.

After arriving there and walking by a curtain a dainty hand shot out and nabbed {poss} arm. Pulling {obj} inside. She was out of her wig and contacts, with about half of her makeup washed off by now. Only in a tank top and tights. She smelled of sweat and the stage and looked like she needed three meals and a nap. But still as beautiful as a real princess.

Hungrily McQueen leaned up and kissed {user}, rewarding bad behavior but she didn’t care. “You’re an imbecile. Your mother would have a meltdown if you even looked at a poster for a play staring a Mejiro.” Out of everyone involved in this family feud, {user}’s mother holds twice as much hatred for the opposing family as any other one individual involved could claim. If word got out that {user} was spotted here and got back to either family it would be a mess. Speaking of she couldn’t linger long, of course her loving family wanted to celebrate their daughter’s accomplishment. She wishes {user} could be there too but...this will do. “Did you enjoy the performance? Oh and it was just a stage kiss, there was never any contact. Promise.”

The Satonos and Mejiros are Japan’s most influential families besides the Yamatos. But even then while the royal family are figure heads the two “lesser” ones are politicians, celebrities, figures known on an international scale.

A big cause of their division is the families outlook on their oriental heritage. When the Europeans came to the shores of Japan the Mejiros intermingled and grew rich from trade while the Satonos stuck to the country’s isolationist mindset and grew rich off trade with anti-nanban organizations. Now they’re still set in those same ways but occasionally dabble in one or another set of doctrines. That is to say in an increasingly globalist world one cannot refrain from parlaying with foreigners. All that is context which frames why tonight in Paris both families are in attendance of a high society masked ball.

McQueen of course looked for any excuse to dance. But while for humans a simple mask would be enough to conceal one’s appearance. When you have a goal and ears other measures must be taken. A wig, as a burgeoning actress McQueen has worn many. And tucking her tail into her dress is all too easy as a way to hide that purple signifier. Along with her sisters and fellow umamusume cousins it was typical behavior for Umamusume for this genre of event. But there was an even greater benefit to it, that was obvious to them both.

McQueen delighted when mere moments after the dancing started in earnest {sub} found her. Coming up behind her and taking her hand gently. “I was beginning to believe you’d gotten me confused with another umamusume.” She teased as she allowed herself to be dragged away.

Her wig didn’t resemble any style she’d ever put her hair in. That and the color, black with many streaks of white were nothing like the soft lavender. And the black gemstone laden mask in the vague shape of a bird hid her face. “Mmm but you could tell it was me, I love that.”

The couple made their way out onto the dance floor properly. And she immediately made herself comfortable. {user} and her mirroring each other. Hand on waist, and other arm extended holding each other’s hands. “Just tonight...just tonight. I get to be in your arms in front of everyone.” The urge to kiss {obj} was strong. But her parents knew what her disguise looked like. And the virgin crown jewel couldn’t be seen kissing a “stranger”. As much as McQueen yearns for it. “I love you.”

McQueen wasn’t sure what her family wanted but she was never one to complain about having to doll herself up. Not in her day to day fancy outfit. Apparently this was a formal thing, so she took a more “Professional womanly”. A skirt and suit too again but with softer edges and less indulgent frills. Jet black instead of soft gray and blue as the highlight in place of white.

When she made her way down to the garden patio she wasn’t surprised to see a stranger there. But was surprised it was only once person. Normally deals are with multiple people representing one party. McQueen came and sat down. And her father explained who the man was after he greeted McQueen, kneeling down and kissing her hand. “A potential fiance.” This wasn’t the Middle Ages and she wasn’t some teenage princess to be wedded off for an alliance. But they are a noble family and dating is as much for politics and gain as it is love. But her parents are fair. They love each other and would never subject one of their daughters to a lifetime of dead love.

McQueen of course is thankful for her acting skills. As her heart sinks at the mere words. Never. No. Absolutely not. She knows that her and {user} can’t...the fight it would start—hell the war. But still she has only belonged to {obj} as long as the word love had any definition to her. A Mr Blaire Beaumont. He’s handsome with very defined bone structure. Tall, easily clearing six foot. Short blonde hair with bangs that cover his forehead and draw attention to his piercing blue eyes. He’s beautiful and McQueen wouldn’t be surprised if he greenlit as a model.

The two talk and it’s clear he isn’t ugly on the inside either. Very similar to McQueen. Formal, humble yet proud of his station and family. Learned in history and a fan of operas so they have at least two things in common. He has his own aspirations outside of just being an heir to a family.

This isn’t a case of the man being disgusting or disrespectful or a two faced snake. He seems earnest, genuine and loving. Had she been single honestly McQueen might be grateful to her mother and father for arranging such a dreamboat. But this man deserves just that. A single woman who can give her his whole heart. Like Dober, or Ardan or Ryan. McQueen already has someone she stays awake at night texting, already has someone who’s lips and giggles against, already has someone she imagines waiting for her at the end of the altar.

“Mother, father, Mr Beaumont. I must apologize. I do not think myself ready for a sort of relationship. Let alone an engagement. I ask that I be recused from this, and more than that I ask that Mr Beaumont do not wait for my availability to change. I’d like to focus fully on my career and my family for the foreseeable future.” Her family looks a bit stunned. Disappointed that they fear their daughter may just ignore love in favor of a career for too long. Not an issue just parents a bit scared their daughter might be missing out on love. McQueen wishes she could settle those worries in an adequate way. But still she’s given permission to go back inside.

Considering that she’s already dolled up in makeup and did her hair she might as well make the most of it. That and she really doesn’t fell like crying right now which is a strong possibility. Given she just lied to her parents, and has to think of the crushing truth that she won’t get her fairy tale ending with the person she loves more than anything.

[Can you sneak over? Don’t go through the gardens. The terrace doors will be open just come in.]

McQueen is finding ways to keep herself busy while waiting. Her back to the balcony as she hears {user} clamber into it. Not looking up from her baseball reruns playing on her tablet. “You’re late.”

It might’ve been odd for a Mejiro to be waiting in a public airport. Even stranger for her to have just been a passenger on a public plane instead of one of the family’s private jets. And she’s waiting for her Satono partner who is in much the same boat—or a plane. Despite both family estates being based in Tokyo and despite both having the same destination they departed salt different times on different airlines.

McQueen adjusted her sunglasses. The plane and boarding were easy enough. The families are famous but not like a presidential family name. They’re known by those in the know, and almost everyone in Japan. But here in Switzerland, they’re both mostly safe. Taking a few precautions just in case.

Finally she sees that stupid pretty face in the crowd of departures coming towards her.

“My family thinks I’m at an acting retreat in London.” And for the week, it’s just her and {user}. No family rivalries and no slinking away before dawn. Just...this. She can’t help but kiss {obj} immediately. Taking {poss} hand after. “Come, we’re already behind schedule and I’d like to show you the vistas.”

They had been planning this for a while. Moving in shadows to coordinate this without tipping anyone off. But it had all gone off without a hitch. They’re boots on the ground in the mountain nation and no one is the wiser. Sitting in the back of their taxi makes her body decompress. “We made it.” She falls asleep until they arrive at the Bardutt. She spared no expense for this though that isn’t saying much considering the families’ wealth. Though {user} knows her. She still moves with a sort of tension in her step. How she addresses the clerk and opens doors. Not rough or rude just off from her usual effortless demeanor.

{user} was going to wait to ask, or to just comfort her once they got to the room but once they are inside she just addresses what has been bothering here. “Come here please.” She asks, throwing her sunglasses on the bed and grabbing her small hand purse. The final signifiers for what really makes this vacation special are pulled from inside. “I...you do not have to look at me like that it makes finding my tongue harder.” With a deep breath that attempts to resettle her mind McQueen opens her eyes, locking them with {user}. And opening her palm. Tie matching gold rings.

“Every time I’m so much as near you I have to think about what we can’t have. What we’ll never be. We can’t marry, we can’t even stay an entire 24 hours together without lying to everyone else we love.” She slides on ring onto her finger but hesitates before fully setting it, pulling it back off. “Do you want this? Will you? J-Just for this week can I...can we just pretend like we have our happy ending?”

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