I'm posting this with one MO; TO PROVE I WROTE THIS STORY. Someone on FF.net 
has been going around with the name Ciel-Envoye, claiming to be ME, back from Italy 
(What the ...?) with a new name and NEW E-MAIL ADRESS! They reposted chapter 
one under their name and addy, and I AM HACKED. I hope they see this and I hope 
they're humiliated. It was WORD FOR WORD, including my AUTHORS NOTES! I 
hope this is enough proof that I am the real writer. I am SORELY upset and sick about 
this whole thing. I worked HARD on this story, and anyone who's e-mailed me in the 
past YEAR knows it. *takes a deep breath* I'm through with my tirade. So with that,
I'm adding the disclaimers I SADLY forgot in the last chapter – 

SM, Chiba Mamoru, Tsukino Usagi and the others, sadly, do not belong to me. ^^;;; 
Yet….The story, however, does. Please act accordingly. ^~


slr_europa@yahoo.com

http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/

AIM :: SeeShelliRun


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Rouge, Part II of ?
By Sailor Europa (Ciel Envoyé)


	Mamoru wandered amongst the natives in a daze. The off-white orb that now 
hung in the sky, replacing the low rays of the sun from his last encounter with the streets, 
was cascading stray shadows along a few cafés and clubs and houses, leading his way 
back into the residential area of Amsterdam. He had only been in town a week, but he 
had made this trip many times already; his nerves had inevitably gotten the better of him 
before this evening, and he would always sway on a heel and walk the few miles in the 
opposite direction to his hostel. Most nights no one was home; with the exception of their 
care-taker, who, thankfully, had no idea of his intentions and thought nothing of his 
nightly humiliation. 
	But he had finally gathered up his courage early that morning, thanks to a few of 
his peers' glib comments about his wavering back-bone. It wasn't that he was afraid of 
the experience many of the other men swore by. The idea was merely disconcerting, to 
say the least. 
	And his awkward ordeal with the raw Serenity had proven his initial fears correct. 
	He shook his head, thoughts still swimming in a pool of revulsion as his mind 
caught swatches of scenes he'd lived through. The complete turn-around of emotions had 
sent him reeling, and he was still struggling to recover. He loathed himself for letting his 
lust impair his judgment; once the revelation of her crimes had struck him, it seemed as 
plain as the moon in the sky! How could he have missed it when he was suggesting the 
two retreat to a room not even 30 minutes prior in the bar? 
	And of course, his pity for the poor girl was evident amidst all other feelings. He 
couldn't resist the urge to shake his head in sympathy each time he thought of the look of 
pure shock and fear when he had questioned her. He had almost expected vehemence and 
flames to meet his inquiries; but tears? And her quick response, her expression crossing 
with horror within seconds had made him almost positive that the emotions were genuine. 
So how did her initially seductive, alluring persona match up with the scared, shaking 
little girl he left alone in that room? 
	He tried, futilely, to banish the thoughts from his head as he retrieved his room 
key from his pocket and entered the rather shabby hostel he was staying in. He exhaled in 
relief to find even the mistress out; shopping for groceries, he'd discovered after finding a 
note on the kitchen table. He moved about stealthily, attempting to seize any sound that 
might expose another warm-body in the lodging. He moved through the community room 
quickly, and jogged up the stairs, confident he had not passed another person on his trip. 
	Once inside the safety of his now empty room, he stripped down and stepped into 
his navy blue robe. He plucked a towel from the cabinet on the far wall, and grabbed his 
toiletries from the top of his dresser and finally exited the room, aiming blankly for the 
shared bathroom, praying that a warm shower would wash away the repulsive slime he 
felt covered in, as well as clear his grave mood. 
	He entered the sterile looking room, white walls recently scrubbed clean for its 
tenants. He flicked on the light switch and shielded his eyes, the already harsh rays of the 
bulbs reflecting painfully from the gleaming tiles around the shower basin and floor 
boards. He slipped the robe off and hung it on the knob as he slammed the door shut, 
unleashing some of his pent up aggressions on anything within reach. He tested the 
stream that emitted from the head before standing under the steady flow of muscle-
relaxing liquid. Steam built up inside the tiny den he was encased in; he felt his sinuses 
clear, and his limbs go limp in their sockets as his body emptied into a hollow shell. His 
emotions no longer clouded his thoughts, and he smiled at the gradual relief quenching 
his heavy soul. 
	He tilted his neck to the ceiling, letting the hot water pound in his ears, covering 
his already slick, fine hair, and plastering to his face. He sputtered, blissfully struggling to 
breath, each new instance a different distraction from his thought pattern from that night. 
His back unwrapped the knots his muscles had found themselves in and he lifted a well 
sculpted arm to massage the back of his neck. 
	Through the roar of the shower, he heard snatches of laughter; a light, tinkling 
giggle; her fingers, masterfully unleashing his tension. Before he had a chance to deny it, 
his mind breathed a whispered reflection; he liked it. 
	He reacted instinctively, his eyes snapping open like a reflex. The water stung his 
vision. 
	"Damn it…" He muttered, partially at the pain his gaze was suffering from, but 
also from the lingering thought of his evening. His chest tightened. He was awash with 
thoughts, and he let out an involuntary sigh. The pounding waterfall kept rebounding 
from his exposed flesh; he suddenly felt wretched all over again. 
	Utterly defeated, Mamoru turned the dial until the squeak of the pipes echoed 
across the stark walls, and the stream of liquid dissipated. He pulled back the curtain and 
stepped onto the fuzzy, shag bathmat and pulled his towel from the counter where he'd 
left it, and raked it through his hair. He distracted his weary mind with the task of drying 
himself off, finally recovering himself with the robe once again.
	He hadn't a clue how long he had been in there, but when he reemerged, he heard 
the voices of his peers coming from various points in the residency. His eyes shut 
immediately in dejection; he wouldn't be able to avoid the interrogation forever. 	
	Once inside his room, he ecstatically found it empty. His roommate must've been 
downstairs with the others; or, he was still out painting this dismal town red. Either way, 
Mamoru didn't care. Perhaps he could side-step the questions all together, at least until 
the morning came and he returned to his classes at the University. Mamoru knew that 
they would all be expecting a full report; either on his latest, pathetic excuse for why he 
hadn't gone through with the task once again, or how the evening had faired at the club. 
All of those he was staying with were either natives to Amsterdam, and consequently on 
friendly terms with all of the girls at Wallen, or they had already taken the obligatory trip 
to the Red Light District. 
	Mamoru slung his damp towel around his neck, and pulled on his night clothes as 
quickly as possible. He hoped to avoid any kind of disturbance at all and sneak into bed, 
unbeknownst by the rest of the crew in the community room downstairs. Deep in thought, 
he yanked the drawstring of his flannel pants tighter, and then slipped into a cotton tee 
before tossing his wet items into the laundry. 
	He laid silently on his back, reluctant still to turn the lights in his room out. He 
knew that the illumination from the crack under the door was a dead give away, but the 
thought of lying awake for hours on end in pitch blackness, with only his soured 
memories of the last few hours to haunt him, was all together unappealing. He stared 
absently at the slightly dim ceiling and tilted his head to the right, contemplating the 
studded tiles as if they could answer all the oddities he couldn't seem to remove from his 
thoughts. 
	"Chiba!" 
	Completely startled from his personal universe and its problems, Mamoru lurched 
forward, finding his lanky, wild eyed roommate, Nicholas, standing in the doorway 
directly in front of his bed, still holding the knob in his left hand. The slightly shorter 
blonde Englishman leaned against the jam and nodded. 
	"Didn't even know you were home, Mamoru. When did'ya get in?" 
	Wishing to convey his annoyance, Mamoru turned over on his side, back now 
facing his companion. 	
	"Been here." 
	"Why you up here all alone, then?" 
	"I'm tired. Is that all right with you?" He barked sarcastically, taught muscles 
rotating around quickly to face him. Nicholas did not take the subtlety and pulled up the 
chair from the single desk at the corner of the room, and deposited himself in it. 
	"It's perfectly fine." He replied calmly and planted his feet up on the skinny bed 
posts just next to Mamoru's line of view. The raven haired man frowned openly, staring 
angrily at the laces on his friend's Nike's. "Just as long as you're going to spill the 
details." 
	"I'd rather sleep." 
	"You know I won't let that happen until I get what I want." 
	Mamoru sighed and sat up. His mind raced to come up with some options for the 
situation before Nicholas would have a chance to call the other loud-mouthed jack-asses 
up here to slap it out of him. 
	"It went fine." 
	The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about them, and as 
soon as they wafted into his ears, he knew he couldn't take it back. The fib would have to 
be carried out. 
	"Really?" 
	"Yes. Why would I lie about it?" 
	"Then why all the sneaking around?" 
	"I wasn't sneaking around."
	"The hell you weren't, Mamoru." He snorted. "It's barely 9 in the evening, and 
you're practically passed out on your cot." His voice displayed his disbelief quite well, 
and Mamoru realized he would have to hustle in order to make it sincere. "You couldn't 
have been in there more than 30 minutes; there's no way she would have worn you out 
that much." 
	"Look, I've told you guys before that this was not something I'm comfortable 
with doing." Mamoru's nerves were shattered from the experience he spoke of, however 
untruthful it was, and he was sensing that they wouldn't hold under this line of 
questioning. "I went to the club, and I stayed there this time. What more do you want 
from me?" 
	"God, you had sex, Mamoru! You didn't kill a man." 
	"I might as well have." He muttered as he fell back into his pillow and sighed. 
"This isn't under the circumstances I exactly relish. But I did it, and for the soul purpose 
of getting you and the rest of your bastard friends off my back." He gave a pointed look 
directly into the other mans clear brown eyes. "OK?" 
	"I pity the poor woman who had to deal with you for a full half hour, Mamoru." 
The door slammed behind the departing young man, and Mamoru exhaled in relief as he 
reached up to yank the cord on his bedside lamp. 
	"I do too." 


+*-~-*+-~-*+-~-*+


	"Serenity." 
	"Hm?" 
	The older woman approached the blonde, five inch heels clicking on the ornate 
marble floor before she paused directly in front of her. 
	"You aren't working today, are you?" 
	Serenity blushed and shook her head. She was still recovering from the previous 
night; she wasn't sure she could trust her fragile ego in the emotional state she had been 
thrown into. She had chosen to take her two days off this week in a row, and sleep at 
home without the possibility of disturbance. She had already started by buying herself 
groceries when she realized she had left her wallet in that damned room the night before. 
She couldn't even remember leaving the building early the next morning, let alone taking 
her personal belongings with her. So she had stopped off before the evening rush came, 
in order to take a look around. 
	"No ma'am. I just think I left some stuff behind last night. I wanted to come 
retrieve it." Her voice was shaky as she spoke, but she let her signature smile slide onto 
her now naked lips. 
	"What room?" 
	"4, I believe." 
	"That's vacant right now." Her employer pressed the key into her palm and 
smiled. "Try to be quiet. Veronique just took a client to 3; try not to disturb her business." 
	The blonde flushed a bright color at the very unromantic terms her Madam used 
when discussing the events of their profession. It always seemed cold to the younger girl; 
unfulfilling. 
	The identical sound of her shoes disappearing around the corner to the bar made 
her sigh and she started to ascend up the stairs, the same as she had almost 12 hours 
before. The fear and nausea crept into her chest and she drew in quick breaths to keep 
from panicking unnecessarily. She was seeing the stairway through fogged eyes; clouded 
with tears and marred by her memories. Everything from the night before had been a blur 
at this point. She could barely make out the mans facial features, his clothing, his body. 
From the second he popped the question, her emotions fell to her knees and she was 
having trouble pulling it back up again ever since. 
	Within moments she was behind the door and with a sudden hesitation, she 
shoved the key into the lock and threw the door open. 
	It looked so different. The natural light bathing the furniture in gold, instead of the 
gaudy red bulbs barely lighting the four corners. The bed was made and everything was 
spic and span; no signs of the scuffle she had experienced in such real, full color. She 
swallowed hard; it didn't feel like the same room. The ambiance was nonexistent. 
	Shaking her head in exasperation, she spotted her small wallet and package of 
gum on the night stand, right next to the emergency alarm. It hadn't even occurred to her 
to use it the previous evening. It wouldn't have done her any good, as it was; Madam 
Isabelle would have rushed upstairs, only to find her in tears on the floor, with a half 
naked John threatening to expose her secret. No, she would have been in even more 
trouble than she was now.  
	After snatching her possessions from the table she paused, seeing the large oak 
door from the opposite vantage point. She paused, thinking about the single incident that 
gave her the most distress from that night; his exit. He had held her almost possessively 
before wishing her a good night, and pressing a, oddly enough, tender kiss on her 
forehead. She barely remembered her tears halting in that confusing second. What could 
he have meant by it? And the way he embraced her as she wept….Serenity inhaled 
deeply, hopelessly lost in the significance of it all. He had been so afire with anger when 
the realization struck him, and yet so gentle when he whipped her tears away. She 
stopped as she gave the room one last burning glare. 
What on earth had happened last night? 
	

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	"And the revolution began after the….."
	7:30 AM the next morning, and Mamoru was finding it close to impossible to pay 
attention. While his Dutch professor rattled off the causes of the French revolution in 
English, Mamoru sat in the back row of the stadium style room, holding at least 100 of 
his fellow foreign peers. He had always liked his World History classes, and he 
particularly liked the way this instructor taught all his courses in English. It had seemed 
more of a challenge, even though one of the requirements for attending this college 
program was an above-average fluency in the language, not all the teachers had to use it. 
Mamoru's Modern Psychology class, for example, was taught completely in Dutch by, 
oddly enough, an older French woman. He remembered vividly the first day of the 
semester, when she began her unorthodox teaching regiment; no one dared question the 
method, but odd expressions were exchanged between students throughout the three-hour 
period. Even now some of his peers would shaking their heads in amazement when she 
would rattle off case studies with a thick, Parisian accent. 
	But Mamoru could not seem to shake his mind numbing conversation with the 
other males at the hostel over breakfast. Word had gotten around, as Mamoru had 
expected, that he had been to the club the night before. He was pretty sure that Nicholas 
had leaked the word as soon as he had shut the door to their room, and when he walked 
groggily downstairs earlier that morning, each of the faces at the table were grinning 
from ear to ear. He wasn't about to bring the subject up initially; he was in no hurry to 
discuss the events again. He had thought about them all night, and the last thing he 
wanted to talk about was "how she was". 
	But that was exactly what they wanted to know. Now, Mamoru was a polite soul 
by nature, and not what his American friends would dub a "player". He did not kiss and 
tell, so to speak; so the blush that rose to his face when they approached him point-blank 
with the question of how his purchase had been was not a surprise. However, he wasn't 
sure he could get through the interrogation without humiliating himself anymore than he 
already had. He would either stumble horribly through the phony "gory details", or just 
bark some insulting remarks in their direction before stalking out of the door; the latter 
would only prove to get some more glib remarks later on, and the former was, well….too 
horrifying to even consider. So, he simply shut his mouth, and didn't respond to a word 
they asked him.
	Mamoru sighed, watching his instructor blankly as he began writing the textbook 
assignment for Friday morning. A few stragglers had already risen and started towards 
the door as Mamoru tucked his still empty notebook under his arm and stood up, 
stretching. Besides being preoccupied with the little matter from last night, he hadn't 
achieved the goal of sleeping, either. He was subconsciously glad that he wasn't driving 
while he was in Amsterdam; he would surely have been a safety hazard at this point in 
time.
	"Mamoru!" 
	He turned around just as he stepped outside, the cold winter air stinging his lips, 
which he promptly licked to soothe them. He watched his friend Andrew grin as he 
jogged moderately before he paused at his side, running a hand through the thick mop he 
called hair. 
	"Haven't seen you for a while, Chiba." He shrugged his pack farther onto his 
shoulder, staring straight ahead as he spoke. "Where ya' been?"
	"You mean you haven't heard?" Mamoru answered bitterly, scowling into the 
frosty breeze. "I would have thought those jack asses would have spread it all around 
Europe by now." Andrew chuckled. 
	"Well, yeah, Nick couldn't stop laughing about it before Trig this morning. Just 
thought I'd give you the chance to spill first, though." 
	Mamoru sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. Andrew was one of the few 
decent people whom he could actually stand to be around voluntarily in this school. 
When Mamoru had arrived from Tokyo 9 days ago, he had assessed that most of the guys 
in the hostel were fair. Perhaps not his choice for friends, but he was pretty sure he 
wouldn't be tempted to break their legs before the semester ended. And he still felt the 
same….However, that was providing they stayed out of his personal life. 
	He'd already gotten the standard inquiries; who was he dating, did he have a 
picture, if so, did she have a sister? That type of thing. Photo's had been passed back and 
forth between the men the first night, and ended with typical displays of testosterone. 
Some cat calls, a couple lewd comments, a few obscene gestures. Nothing they hadn't 
been accustomed to. Mamoru himself, wasn't in a serious relationship, but the guys had 
taken a liking to the few photo's he did have on hand of Rei, his ex, in her Temple robe, 
and her friends. He didn't even have a chance to tell them she was still underage before 
he was thoroughly offended on her behalf. Sometimes, he had mused, he was extremely 
ashamed to be included in this gender group. 
	As the night had worn on, the talk got a little more vulgar and made Mamoru 
consequently even more uncomfortable. The group of males was varied; some were from 
other parts of Europe, a few Americans, and even another Japanese male assembled 
under the same roof each night. But as he had glanced around that night, he was amazed 
to find he was the only one who seemed ill at ease with the topic they had landed on; The 
Red Light District. 
	Mamoru was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a bit prudish. He'd had 
enough encounters with females to know just about all there was to know in the area of 
relationships. However, the open way the others discussed the intricacies of each 
experience horrified the conservative Mamoru beyond anything he could have imagined. 
He tried not to participate, but eventually, the few that had been to the Walletjes were 
taking turns giving their personal testimonies. 
	But he could Andrew was different. He was an American, yes, which Mamoru 
actually saw as more vulgar than any other nationality, but a respectable one. He was 
here for the same duration as Mamoru, and the two had immediately teamed up as 
friends. Andrew was lucky however; his grandparents were Dutch, and quite wealthy as 
well, so he was staying with them in their home about a half hour from the University. 
Andrew was driven to and from school each day by a personal chauffer, and didn't have 
to put up with the immature yokels Mamoru saw each time the sun rose. 
	"So you actually went to one of the clubs, eh?" Andrew finally prodded, his face 
completely ambivalent. Mamoru exhaled, not bothering to respond to his friend with his 
eyes. 
	"Yeah." He said plainly. 
	"Are you going to at least tell me what you thought, or do I have to keep beating 
you upside the head?" Andrew's voice was forced; Mamoru wondered if his friend 
wasn't as uncomfortable with this topic of conversation as he was. 
	Mamoru paused before answering, debating on whether to tell Andrew the full 
truth of his incident at the club. Could he trust him with all the conflicting feelings he was 
experiencing? He hadn't known him more than a week, and the last thing he wanted was 
another voice to laugh at him. He'd had enough judgment as it was. 
	"It wasn't what I expected." He said evenly, still not looking him in the eye.
	"Is that a good thing, or a bad one?" 
	"I'm…not sure." He answered thoughtfully. Andrew stopped walking then, now 
thoroughly confused and showing it openly. Mamoru sighed and shook his head, 
knowing he was blocked into explaining himself now. 
	"It didn't happen." He muttered, almost humiliated having to admit it to another 
soul. 
	"You chickened out?" 
	"No!" He shouted, almost too quickly. Andrew was taken aback, and Mamoru let 
out a frustrated groan, turning to the small, wooden bench on his right and tossing his 
books onto the seat. "No, its just….Something happened." The blonde leaned in closer, 
almost laughing at the others hesitant embarrassment. "It started to happen, and then I 
noticed that….that…." He finally growled, disgusted with the whole situation all over 
again, and disgusted with himself for having to relive it all. "The girl couldn't have been 
over 16 years old." 
	"…Woah." Andrew whispered after a long, awkward pause. Mamoru snorted a 
disdainful, bitter laugh. 
	"Yeah. Tell me about it." 
	"Are you sure? I mean, these places are usually so good about screening that kind 
of information." He asked skeptically, then blushed a bit himself. "Or so I hear." 
	"No, she was definitely NOT supposed to have been there." 
	"So….What did you do?" He prodded and Mamoru shrugged. 
	"I got a bit repulsed, confronted her and left. End of story." 
	"Did she admit to it?" 
	"Not at first." Mamoru replied. "She tried to pass it off as a cover-up of my 
displeasure, but I kept at it. She finally broke into tears and begged me not to tell 
anyone."
	"Woah." Andrew repeated and Mamoru nodded glumly. "I take it you aren't 
going back, then." He stated, rather than asked. 
	"Damn right." 
	"So….What's the big deal then? You're obviously a bit more upset over this than 
you're telling me. You look like you're ready to gnaw your arms off." Mamoru gave a 
short laugh at the very astute observation then sobered shortly after . 
	"I don't know. It's like she was two different people last night. I had to do a 
complete shift in emotions, Andrew." He finally expounded, divulging details even he 
hadn't managed to reveal to himself up to this point. "I was *so* ready," He emphasized 
the last word. "And then I was reeling in the opposite direction two seconds later. And 
I'm still confused about it.
	"Not to mention I can't help but feel sorry for the poor girl." He shook his head as 
he had each time the sweet Serenity entered his mind. "How could such a young thing be 
so experienced with this type of contact, at such a tender age?" 
	"You'd be surprised. I'd bet each club has, or has had, at least one underage 
entertainer." Andrew replied blandly. Mamoru gaped. 
	"How is it then, that I'm the first one to have noticed it?" 
	"You think you're the first to have found out?" Andrew practically doubled over 
in hysterics. "Please! I'll bet most guys are more pleased with their gift when they realize 
it's a newer model! None of them are going to jeopardize a good thing by spilling the 
beans." 
	Mamoru was speechless with horror. He hadn't even thought that there was some 
sick pervert out there who got excited at the idea of sleeping with a vulnerable young 
woman. Shouldn't guys like that be behind bars? 
	'Oh God, poor Serenity.' He thought to himself, shaking his head. He had a whole 
new level of empathy for her now. To think she probably put up with pedophiles on a 
regular basis was even more nauseating than his realization that he had almost become 
one of them. 
	"Mamoru, does this mean you didn't tell the others what happened last night?" 
Andrew asked suddenly, shaking his companion from the silent reverie. Mamoru shook 
his head in a negative. 
	"I don't think it would have been a good idea. Seeing as how most of them have a 
season pass to the Wallen, I don't think they would have shared my view on the 
situation." He replied. Andrew nodded in agreement. 
	"I think that's best." 
	

 +*-~-*+-~-*+-~-*+


	"Oooh, who got flowers?" 
	"Serenity. Her attractive John from the night before."
	"That Asian chap?" 
	"Was he Asian? God, I hadn't even noticed. Those eyes were sexy though. I don't 
think I would have had any trouble doing that job." 
	"I never get tips like this. Wonder what she did that was so special?" 
	"God only knows. Probably let the annoying giggle rip. I swear, if that high 
pitched wail doesn't make every man's blood rise…." 
	"We're better off when she's not here. It's that young blood, I'm telling you." 
	"Is there a card?" 
	"For Gods sake, hun'!"
	"Oh, please. You can't tell me you weren't thinking about reading it yourself." 
	"I didn't even have a chance to look." 
	"Well look now!"
	"It just has his name. 'Chiba Mamoru'." 
	"Well, that's not very original." 

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And that's chp.2! ^^ Remember, if you want more, you must show me how much! 
Feedback is greatly appreciated! (A great thanks to those who wrote me about chapter 
one! If I haven't replied to you yet, please be patient! Yahoo has been very uncooperative 
as of late, and it seems that it won't be letting up anytime soon. ^^;;;)

slr_europa@yahoo.com

http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/

AIM :: SeeShelliRun