World Shaking: Chapter 3 Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Sailor Moon or anything that comprises it. This is a non-profit story written solely for my own enjoyment and that of anyone who wishes to read it. The story and original characters are mine. Please don't use them without permission. *** World Shaking - A Sailor Moon Fan-Fiction by Nutzoide - Chapter 3: A Relentless Wheel Turns Digging Deep to Find the Truth "... Now, two weeks on, the police have finally announced that they are treating Mita-san's disappearance as a criminal investigation. The plea from the girl's parents, aired two days ago, brought little in the way of leads despite many potential sightings. With this case purportedly suffering from lack of evidence already it is sure to make for a difficult investigation. "With so many young people on Tokyo's list of missing persons already it begs the question: how long can the police treat this case with such high priority? According to Investigating Inspector Tokuno it is the suddenness of Mita-san's disappearance that makes this case such a concern; that it would go against Mita-san's character to disappear on her own at an otherwise happy and stable point in her life. He also stressed again, when questioned, that the interests of the Le FEI business group were not the incentive for such a large scale investigation. "The staff of The Midnight Garden have already been questioned and cleared of any suspicion or implication in these events, and the Midnight Garden park has been re-opened with only a minor fall in revenues, but this case has certainly left a dark blemish on the once spotless company." Hotaru, sitting on the settee with the remote in her lap, hit the television's off switch. Her look of sympathy had become a frown as the report had gone on. "They talk about business too much on TV. What about that poor girl?" Ami shared her sentiments, if not her willingness to overlook how much the incident had hurt the park and its owners. It would be a financial disaster if Le FEI went under, not to mention the damage it could do to Japan's international image. Not that such a thing was likely, with the amount of capital such people dealt in, but it was an understandable concern. "We will just have to hope that the police find her quickly," Michiru replied to her daughter. "And that nothing too terrible has happened to her." It seemed like a very measured response to Ami's ears, but Michiru's composure was second to none. In the past Ami had thought her cold when she had used that tone, but she had learned better since then. Michiru *did* care - most likely about the missing student and the reputation of Japan's artistic community with equal concern - but there was no way that her words could be misconstrued or re-interpreted by anyone who might have been listening in. For a woman who lived so much in the spotlight, it made sense to have learned instinctive control over how she came across to others. By contrast Ami knew that her own sympathy, and her inability to help the girl in question, showed on her face as plainly as it did on Hotaru's. And it showed even more so when another, very faint retch came from the corridor that led to their bathroom. Hotaru simply sighed. "Poor Haruka-papa. With all the throwing up, I don't think having a baby is as much fun as I'd thought." Michiru could only agree. In part, at least. "It is still very exciting, Hotaru. Just not right now. At least she isn't getting sick so often. And some women suffer more than this. I know my mother did. She would say that it was her sacrifice for having such a talented child." Hotaru gave her a sceptical look, but giggled slightly. "And modest too." Ami couldn't bear to sit on her hands though. Michiru had insisted that she leave Haruka alone during these last four weeks of sickness, but now with little to do that evening but enjoy each others' company she found it impossible. Ami always felt worse when she was ill or blue and left to struggle through it herself, and in return she wanted to be there to support Haruka now. To let her know that it was neither unsightly nor shameful in her eyes. "Ami-papa?" "Ami-san, wait a moment..." Ami did not dare stop to hear them out. The last time she had done that they had convinced her that it was best to leave Haruka well alone, but this time she wanted to try it her way. To her relief neither Michiru nor Hotaru went after her, despite their complaints, and the door to the large, immaculately kept bathroom didn't squeak. "Haruka?" Haruka sat in an awkward position hunched over the toilet bowl, one leg under her while the other was planted upright, and she tried to hide her face behind her knee as soon as she caught sight of Ami. It didn't work of course, and Ami's heart went out to her beautiful, suffering partner. Ami didn't want to be hidden from, especially not now. Though she could see why Haruka might want to. She looked terribly uncomfortable, more so than Ami had ever seen her outside a fight, and her eyes had turned bleary. As if any of that mattered. At least she didn't seem to have lost her dinner tonight. The nausea must be easing off if it could only draw out a few dry heaves from her. "Ami, what the hell are you doing?" Haruka's voice was ragged but hard edged. Ami ignored it, and slipped over to wipe at Haruka's creased brow. "Holding your hair back. Metaphorically speaking." "God," Haruka huffed, "Ami, get out already. I'm a fucking mess, just let me throw up in peace." "You are not a mess," Ami chastised, "and if you ever needed some comfort I thought now would be the time." She paused when Haruka turned away suddenly, and let her retch again. As Haruka came back up Ami began to stroke her back, hoping it might sooth her mood if not her nausea. "And this is partly my fault, after all," she joked gently. "Why should you have to deal with it alone?" But to her disappointment Haruka squirmed away from her touch. "Ami, please," she all but begged, "I love you, but you're not helping. Just leave me alone and let me get this over with, okay?" Ami let her hand hang in the air were Haruka had retreated from it. She was surprised that it hurt, but her better judgement allowed her to nod and step away. Haruka was the one who needed the consideration, and if what she needed most was to be alone after all, then she could accept that. "Okay. I'm sorry, Haruka. Call us if you need anything. Okay?" Haruka just nodded, and braced herself awkwardly back over the bowl again. Back in the living room, both Michiru and Hotaru were still talking quietly in front of the silent television. "You were right," Ami admitted, a little ruefully as she returned. Michiru simply nodded, not smug or judgemental, while Hotaru sympathised openly. "Haruka-papa likes to pretend she doesn't get ill. She has to defend her pride, and I guess that's hard when you're being sick. She gets like that when Michiru-mama embarrasses her in public too, all edgy and confrontational." Michiru smirked a little. "Though she doesn't always mind if it's the right kind of embarrassment." "Right kind?" Ami asked, not sure whether to be confused or intrigued. Michiru giggled. "Oh, you'll know that when you see it." "Michiru-mama, if this is *that* kind of conversation, please stop having it around me!" *** For all her years of caution and lifetimes of wisdom, Sailor Pluto never failed to be shocked at how easily humans fell into their old ways. So many leaders, warriors, lovers and teachers failed to learn from their own mistakes, and from those their ancestors had repeated, and their ancestors before them, over and over again. But more worrying to her were the singular *personal* habits that returned no matter how much effort was made to break them. Be they good or bad, intentional or accidental, there were some responses that were just too ingrained into a person's behaviour to ever truly be free of. Serenity knew - rest her soul - that Pluto had been trying to break her own for long enough. She stood with the surrealist chronoscape of the Gate lapping around her at its own shores, and though the doors to the past and the future were shut fast that did nothing to stop her simply looking around and seeing everything that had ever been, and everything that ever could be. And a great many things that never had been, and even more that never should have been. Worst, having been the one to stand guard for millennia within that swirl of potential history, she had long since learned how best to move it forward. How best to fix the mistakes that would be made if she did not intervene, and how to fix every mistake the past had to offer. If she wanted she could have prevented the fall of the Silver Millennium a thousand times over. She had even been tempted to, once upon a time. That temptation, however, was the habit she condemned herself for. Playing with time and space was far less dangerous than she or any past guardians of the Gate allowed people to believe - the childhood antics of Princess Tsukino Usagi II were proof enough of that, too much proof in fact - but what dangers they led to were terrible and insidious things. It was too easy to alter even the smallest 'problem', only to cause an infinite number more as the time stream was warped to fit its new reality. And if any other person ever learned how to find and manipulate the gate then no two people, not even the closest of allies, would ever be able to agree on how to manage it. The wars of little disagreements and simple retributions, or even just the escalating undoing of past alterations, might render the universe lifeless, never mind if any truly hostile force happened to become involved. No, only once had Sailor Pluto ever been so as foolish to consider it. Instead, she stood and watched, deciding what action, if any, was required. And then, maybe with a nudge or maybe not, she simply let it happen. She didn't leave. She didn't return to her family, even though she now had people - other Senshi - that she *did* call family. She didn't go to work, even though she had a freelance job to maintain. She didn't even look back to remember the greatest moments of her long, varied life. It was in almost morbid fascination that she stared in detail at every facet of their coming plight. Even more so now, with the newest changes to the time stream still so unexplored after her allies' return from their parallel world. Haruka's absence from the ranks of the Sailor Senshi, the new and cautious, closer friendship between Sailors Mercury and Neptune. Sailor Mars' new reluctance in battle, and Sailor Venus' new martial skill. The threat seemed less dire this time around, but the air in the visions, for all its lack of force or power, was darker and more worrisome than these girls had yet dealt with. It would not be a matter of *whether* they would triumph but of *how*, and of what prices might have to be paid. Even as twisting and unclear as the visions were, there was no need to interfere. She wanted to, the desire was there, but she trusted her fellow Sailor Senshi. They could turn their adversity into advantage, and this time risk *would* come with great reward. Reward enough for her to do nothing now, and simply weep for that decision when the time came. That was enough, she told herself. She needed to return home and see the family she loved. The family she trusted. That trusted *her*. Just a little longer at her post, then. She needed to find her centre if she were to look them in the eyes when she returned. *** Usagi rested much more easily than the Senshi of Time. Being carefree was her speciality, and even in her most dark moments Usagi would choose to ignore her own peril if it meant she could try to understand her adversary's grievances and pain. Now, tucked safely into her own bed beside the man she loved with no such grievances to hear, she rested at ease. It wasn't that she was untouched by the plight of those in need in Tokyo, but she had always known that she was just one girl, and there was only so much one girl could do. Even if that one girl was Sailor Moon in her 'spare time'. Fighting modern crime and corruption seemed all well and good in theory, or in movies, but in practice it was difficult work, which Minako could attest to. Doing it efficiently had to be almost a full time job since most schoolgirls and university students didn't have access to the plethora of equipment and manpower that the police had at their disposal. Similarly the Sailor Senshi's powers were highly dangerous and best used judiciously, if at all, when up against human opponents. And while they all had a precognition of sorts, a sixth sense about when and where they were needed - and even by whom on some rare occasions - that power seemed to have no interest in day to day crime. Only Rei, Michiru and Setsuna, with their own less passive powers of foresight, could hope to make a real contribution in the way classic, fictional super heroes did. And they had their own lives to lead. As Mamoru had once told her, it was not the job of the Sailor Senshi to do the work of the police or the armed forces. The Senshi existed to fulfil their destiny, and to protect humanity from the enemies that destiny brought with it. Enemies the police and the army *couldn't* fight. It also helped that, for all her good intentions, Usagi rarely managed to catch the evening news. There was always something more pressing to do, be it coursework, playing with her boyfriend, or simply catching up on the manga that she rarely got to read these days. Mamoru was far more vigilant there, and helped keep her up to date with current events. "Mamo-chan," Usagi yawned, exhausted but unable to fall asleep just yet after her evening's study marathon. "What should we do tomorrow? You don't have work and I don't have school. I love Sundays!" Mamoru looked over to her from the book he was reading by the light of his bedside lamp. "Don't you want to go to the 'study meeting' with everyone?" he asked with a smile. Usagi had been bubbling about the Senshi meet at the Hikawa shrine all week. They didn't really have business to discuss, but it would be the first one in ages with all four of her fellow 'Inner Senshi'. Or at least the first one since their return that didn't involve demons, stern lectures and immaculate conceptions. "Of course we're going. And you *are* coming too, Mamo-chan. But that's in the afternoon. We've got the whole morning to do something too." Mamoru put down his book. "Well, I didn't have anything planned. Why don't we go into town? You said you wanted to visit the youma." Usagi gave him a wide, sleepy grin. "That'd be great. And I'm not checking up on them. I just want to make sure they're doing okay." "I know." "Good." Best of all, Usagi knew that Mamoru believed her. "I hope Setsuna-san can make it to the meeting," she wished idly. "It's bad enough that Haruka-kun and Michiru-chan have to work." "I think you're out of luck there Usa-ko. Setsuna-san said she has a meeting of her own to attend. And at least Michiru-san decided to show her painting after all. You know how hard she worked on it." "I know, but still... It would have been nice." *** Usagi never tried to plan her visits to the Four Phantom Sisters for the simple reason that tying all of them down at any one time was next to impossible. As much as they evidently cared for each other, they bickered like any sisters did, and almost as much as Usagi would with her brother given half a chance. As such only Koan, the youngest of the sisters, was a real full time worker in their store. The day to day running of the shop was her responsibility, and the other girls took turns keeping her company with customers or handling the not so glamorous buying and administration side of their business. And since several of the reformed youma had also been recruited, who knew what hours the sisters were keeping these days? Today it was Koan and Berthier playing sales girls, and Usagi greeted them with a huge smile as she dragged Mamoru inside their shop. "Hellooo! Guess who!" "Usagi-chan! How are you?" Koan beamed back, putting down her magazine and trotting over to the side of the shop. "How did the new skin creme work out?" Usagi giggle as she took Mamoru's hands and held them out for Koan to inspect. "Perfect! No more biker-hands for him!" For his part Mamoru rolled his eyes and let the girls have their fun. "So you *did* get that stuff from here." "Hee hee. Sorry, Mamo-chan. But I couldn't ignore a recommendation." Berthier wasn't wearing her more elaborate hair style, Mamoru noticed, and had restricted herself to just the single plait. Her old second braid had been remarkable, pulled like a headband across her forehead, but perhaps it had stood out too much. "Hello, Berthier. How have you all been?" Berthier smiled coquettishly and rested her elbows on the counter top. "Never better, Mamoru-san. Especially when you drop in to visit." She pouted at him. "We haven't seen you in ages." "Well, this is more Usagi's kind of store than mine." "That's no excuse, but I'm sure we'll forgive you anything!" Usagi gave her a warning glare. "Hey, put the claws away! He's *my* scratching post!" Berthier just chuckled, goodness knew what going through her mind. "Lucky man." Usagi shook her head. Berthier was very kind and loyal, but couldn't help herself from causing trouble. "How about Calveras and Petz? Are they here?" Koan nodded. "Calveras has the day off, so she went out, but Petz is in the back with the others. Why don't you come back and say hi?" Usagi accepted instantly. Petz was the hardest of them to talk to, even if she rarely left the building. While the others would go shopping, dancing or to tour the city Petz would spend her time at home, in her apartment above the shop. She wasn't the frivolous type, and unlike her sisters had refused to try and date. She wasn't ready for love yet, she said, and her outlook on having a social life had been pessimistic since becoming human. But the new youma had been a good influence on her, as Usagi could see. The eldest Phantom Sister had rarely looked so happy as she taught Aretsuki how to unpack boxes ready to be priced and tallied. Usagi guessed that it made the woman feel broody, and for Petz that was obviously a good thing. "Usagi-chan!" The disguised fox-girl called in greeting. "Sister Petz and me are doing stock!" It didn't hurt that the young youma had taken an instant liking to her, which had shocked Petz no end. The same couldn't be said of Tyranya though. Even behind her human disguise there was a trace of worry and caution on her face, and it had not faded as time had gone on. Of all the youma, it seemed to be their leader who was having the most trouble living as a human. Maxill and Aretsuki had lost their worry after the first few weeks of hidden safety, and Shivis and Kaizi, though still cautious, had been bold enough to find work outside the cosmetics store. But Tyranya still carried a haunted look with her. "Hello, Tyra-chan," Usagi greeted, and Tyranya looked up with a weak smile. "Hello, Sailor Moon." Usagi let out a squeak and shushed her. "I told you, you shouldn't call me that! It's supposed to be secret!" Tyranya gave her weak smile again. "It is. But it seems insufficient just to call you 'Rabbit'." Usagi shrugged. "It's my name. I like it!" She picked up her two dumpling tails and twitched them over her head. "See? Anyway, how are you feeling?" The disguised youma did at least seem to be grateful for the concern. "I am well. But after so much trouble and strife, living quietly under human guise... As Petz said to me, I feel as though I am waiting for the other shoe to drop." Petz looked up from her work at the sound of her name. "Yes. But I spent three years waiting for that shoe," she said. "It has not fallen. The sooner you accept the idea that you can rest easy, that you are safe here, the sooner you can start living your life again." "Living life, Petz?" Berthier asked from the doorway. "When was the last time you went out for the night?" Petz gave her a dark look. "Just because I will not throw myself at a man willing to buy me alcohol doesn't mean I'm not living, sister dearest." "Well we'll *all* be going out for the night soon enough, won't we?" Koan butted in, subtly bumping Berthier out of the way with her hip. "As soon as we finish this backlog we have a theme park to explore!" She was holding up the flier for The Midnight Garden, with Mamoru beside her. "And Mamoru-san said Minako-chan is part of their play! Oh, I wish we could have gone to the opening night after all!" "There's no rush, Koan," Petz replied, but Usagi was just as enthused as Koan. "Oh, you *have* to go! It's so pretty, and the play is great, even if it is a bit scary. Minako-chan is so cool as mmnnph!" Usagi stared at Mamoru as he held his hand over her mouth. "Don't spoil it for them, Usa-ko. What's the count so far?" Usagi looked shame faced and began to study her shoes. "Eight." "And what happens when you try and give away the secrets of the play or the Ghost House ten times?" "... I have to sleep on the couch for a week." Mamoru nodded and smiled at her. "And we don't want that." "Mm-hmm. But seriously," she said to the girls, "you *have* to go. Really, it's great!" The sisters all took that as a given, and to Usagi's surprise Tyranya nodded as well. "Yes, we are going, Usagi-san. We've already decided. It will be good for us all." *** Right then Hotaru was also doing what was good for her, whether or not she actually enjoyed it. It was no hardship to watch people shower her adoptive mother with praise and admiration, or her 'father' with embarrassing platitudes and congratulations. How wonderful, bold or deep Michiru's painting might be; their 'courageous' openness about their sexuality; how happy they must be over the conception of their child, and who might have guessed that androgynous Haruka would take the role of 'mother'. As trite and repetitious as it was, Hotaru did like to see them receive such attention. But receiving it herself? That was another matter entirely. Shy, retiring Hotaru felt intimidated by the fawning crowds and the constant need to vocalise her opinions of her parents' life and work. How did she feel about their relationship after being adopted so late? Didn't she feel that this newest work belied a hidden hesitation and melancholy in the pose of its subjects? What was the truth about the month old row between her mother and this Mizuno Ami? How soon before Hotaru would debut into the arts herself? How did she feel about living with so many other women in her home? Was there a boy, or a girl, in her own life? For each question Hotaru had to make herself smile, because she could never have brought herself to tell them that it was none of their business! The fact that doing so might have sullied her parents' reputation was only a secondary concern. Hotaru was just not confrontational enough to say it. Instead she answered as best she could, telling the short, quiet truth as often as possible, and hoping she would not give away her families secrets when she lied. It worried her how many lies there were. The only consolation was that they were for her parents' sake; For all four of them, and those four women were more important to her than all the journalists in the world. There were, of course, those who came dangerously close to breaking past Hotaru's innate restraint. Some questioned Haruka and Michiru's parenting abilities because of their young age. Others asked what right two women had to 'secret, pioneering artificial insemination' when so many normal, heterosexual couples could not conceive. One even had the nerve to ask Hotaru her opinions on her parents having a 'real' child of their own now. It *had* been hard for her to say nothing to that. Hotaru was not there for the sake of the newspapers or the art critics though. She was there because she was the daughter of Kaioh Michiru and Tenoh Haruka. She was there to support her family, because now more than ever they needed to be *seen* to be the family that they still were. And Hotaru was proud that her mother had put her painting in the exhibition after all. Revelations was an important show. It was about baring emotion, unveiling inner demons, and showing that even ugliness could be revealed as beautiful, and visa versa. Such themes were popular these days, and an artist with Michiru's reputation for uncompromising and unexpected subjects could not have been absent and still emerged unscathed. Her piece was unexpected as well. It depicted a soft, romantic dance between two lovers, trapped in the moonlight beneath an old, withered willow tree. But unlike the raw passion or naive fondness depicted in other portraits of love within the show, Michiru's painting was heavy with dark shades and shadows, and the ageing lovers clung to each other in their waltz in gentle comfort despite the blackness of the night around them. No cherry blossoms fell to signify the loss, but the tendrils of the bare willow danced around the pair as if to replace them. That one critic had been right. The painting was heavy with melancholy, as if their only comfort was each other. The loss of the light and the leaves around them was forgotten, as was any anticipation for what the night may bring. In their black and bare world within the picture frame all they had was each other, and yet in their embrace it was obvious that was enough. Michiru denied any deep meaning on her part, beyond the loss she had suffered at Haruka's disappearance and the joy and completeness she had felt at her return. Such things were public knowledge, but even in private Michiru had told them that it bore no relation to Ami's more intimate emergence into their lives. Hotaru wanted to believe her, but she couldn't manage it completely. There had to be something there. If only Hotaru knew what it might have been, then maybe she could have helped. Then came a surprise that Hotaru had been very unprepared for. This particular journalist was obviously not there for the art, so much as the artists, and even though she was with her parents the woman leaned down a little to Hotaru's height. "So, Hotaru-san. What do *you* want, a brother or a sister?" Hotaru stared at her, only just realising that the woman had included her in the conversation. She felt the first genuine smile of the morning appear on her face, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. "A sister, I think. Maybe it would be nice to dress her up." If her demure giggle was anything to go by, Michiru agreed. Haruka on the other hand seemed to have relaxed a little, and patted her stomach. "Nope. Sorry, Hotaru-chan, but I want a boy. I need someone around with some interest in sport!" Michiru shook her head. "But it looks like you have been out-voted, Haruka. Hotaru-chan and I need a girl to pamper." "In that case I hope she turns out like Mako-chan," Haruka said with a smirk, and she stroked her stomach as if to try and convince the embryo inside to agree. "That would teach you." "A friend of ours," Michiru explained to the reporter. "Okay," Hotaru replied. "That way everyone's happy." Haruka sighed at how easily Hotaru had agreed. "Except this poor kid! He's going to have way too many girls fussing over him." The reporter disagreed with a smile as she took down her notes. "You think so? Trust me; whatever they say, the boys like the attention." *** Having watched her now, Rei could admit that she had never realised how much time Makoto put into preparing for their 'study session' get- togethers. She had watched her girlfriend cook before, and even attempted to help out, but in Rei's mind there had always been something separating 'real cooking' from what Makoto did to bring cakes and other assorted treats to the shrine. Even though it could be time consuming, Makoto had always made cooking a meal seem like a pleasure instead of a chore, so whipping up a few treats for them all must have been child's play for her, right? After all, she had done it every week or so during high school. After the way Makoto had spent their free day together invading her kitchen and putting her to work stirring for the cookies that they now shared, Rei's opinion had changed. If Rei had spent the morning cooking like that on her own she wouldn't have been as eager to share the fruits of her labour as Makoto was. Assuming of course that she hadn't burned down the kitchen first, and had something edible to show for it. She was amazed that a clumsy, forgetful girl like Usagi was also mastering the art of the patisserie now. Michiru was either a genius or a saint to be teaching her work like that. It was worth it though. The way that Usagi's eyes lit up as she ate something that Rei had produced - or helped produce at any rate - was very warming. No wonder Makoto always looked that bit more content whenever she had brought sweets to their meetings. She didn't need to buy their friendship with cake, but Rei had always been appreciative, even if that had been in part the relief of not having to provide any herself. They didn't have to patronise her quite so much about her part in the baking though. Even Mamoru had eyed the biscuits with a little trepidation after Makoto had told them that Rei had helped make them, until he tried one. "Usa-ko is right, you've certainly improved, Rei-chan." Next to him Usagi nodded enthusiastically. "And they aren't curry flavoured or anything!" Rei felt her left eyebrow twitch. "That's enough! It was Mako who cooked them, she just told me what to do!" Even Ami was getting in on the humour though, and hid her smile behind her hand. "So you *are* learning from her, Rei-chan. I'm sure she will wean you off your microwave yet." "Says the woman who would eat sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner if she could." To Rei's amusement Ami immediately back-pedalled and tried to look justified in her tastes in food. "Sandwiches are varied and nutritious, with the benefit of being portable." At that point Makoto stepped in and took another cookie, before breaking it in half and giving the two halves to the cats who sat on the table next to Ami and Minako. "All right, you can leave her alone now girls. Rei-chan is very sensitive about her curries, aren't you Rei-chan?" Rei looked to the smiling young woman beside her and scowled. "You are not taking away my microwave." "No, but I intend to get you using your oven if it kills me." Usagi giggled. "Careful Mako-chan, it probably will!" Rei's scowl instantly found a new target. She loved her princess dearly, but that girl could be so infuriating and immature! And what was worse, she knew that Rei couldn't let her barbs go unchallenged. "As if you're any better, Usagi-chan!" "I am now, actually!" Usagi retorted, sticking out her tongue, and so began yet another furious raspberry war between them. Mamoru and Makoto both looked at each other and shrugged, but Rei was not going to let her annoying friend have the last raspberry. That would have been admitting defeat. It was the unwritten law that had stood for the last six years. Whoever gave up first was the one without the strength to prove she was right! Even though they both knew they looked like idiots doing so. Sitting beside Ami, Luna watched with unconcealed despondency. "Do you think they are ever going to grow up?" Ami considered that for a moment. "I'm sure they will. Eventually." While Rei and Usagi fought their tongue war Mamoru and Makoto turned their attention to the most quiet member of their troop that afternoon. To say it was uncharacteristic was an understatement, but Minako had for once been content as spectator while her friends talked and bickered. "How about you, Minako-chan," Mamoru asked politely. "Your acting is still making sure you sleep well?" Minako smiled at him and nodded, her cookie hanging from her lips. "Mmm-hmm. Yeah. Advertising and press conferences were way easier. I never realised that remembering lines and positions and songs and somersaults day after day would be so hard!" "Are you sure you're not doing too much?" Makoto asked, but Minako shook her head. "No, we're all knackered! It's just that kind of play I guess. And I get the 'jumping around the place and creeping up on people really slowly' part, so maybe it's a bit worse..." Then she grinned. "But it's fun! Live audiences are the best! Because of that I only realise I'm dead by the time I get home." Rei knew that feeling very well. She had been a school starlet in her time, and the appreciation of the crowd had been what kept her going back on stage back when she was fifteen. Knowing Minako she could take anything that her director threw at her. "Well, you're not the only one who has it tough," Rei said, needling at her as much as she commiserated. "Mako and I have work AND school to deal with. And poor Ami-chan has to live with Setsuna-san now!" Both Makoto and Ami moved to object, but Usagi beat them to it, looking as though she felt left out. "And what about me? I've got it tough too." Rei didn't believe that for a second. At least, not compared to the rest of them. "You're practically married to Mamoru-kun, dumpling head. You've never had it so good!" Usagi looked ready to come back, but then looked at Mamoru and though better of it. "Hmmph. Being a wife isn't so easy, Rei-chan," she said, and clutched at Mamoru's arm. "It's a good thing you have Mako- chan to do that for you." She might have asked for that, Rei realised, but that was below the belt. However, before she could launch her second counter offence of the day Minako caught her ears with impending gossip. "So how are Setsuna-san and Michiru-san treating you, Ami-chan? Isn't it... you know, awkward?" None of them had plucked up the nerve to ask that yet, and so they all hung on Ami's reply with more keenness than was perhaps polite. Even the cats, or *especially* the cats in Luna's case. "No," Ami denied, surprised that she had become the centre of attention all of a sudden. "Michiru-san and I are getting on. And Setsuna-san seems to like me, when she is around." "But..." Usagi obviously didn't want to tread on Ami's toes, but at the same time her own curiosity was obviously getting the better of her. "You're both with Haruka-kun. How does that work?" "Really, it's not that bad," Ami replied, but that seemed like too cautious a response to mollify Rei's own desire to know how Ami was coping with her situation. Ami had been there to help Rei thought her concerns about her new relationship, and she was determined that Ami was not going to get away with sugar coating her problems. "Ami-chan, we understand. I know it's got to be hard, but we'll want help if you *are* having problems." "Rei-chan..." "And if Michiru-san has a problem with you then make sure to tell Haruka-san as well. They put you through a lot, and you've moved in with them now, so it's too late for either of them to change their minds." Rei noticed Makoto trying to shush her but Ami looked ready to spill whatever secret it was that she had on her chest, and Usagi, kind and concerned as always, spoke up with more support. "And if you want me to talk to Michiru-san, I will do. I know she likes you..." "STOP IT!" Whatever Usagi was going to say ended abruptly at Ami's shout, and Rei jumped in shock as the shy girl slammed her palms into the tabletop. "I said it was okay, and I *meant* it! Why is that so hard to believe!?" Then, to their collective surprise, she rose from the table and stormed out to the kitchen. Or as close to storming as the reserved young woman could manage. Rei looked around to meet the other stunned faces, while Luna gave a futile call to Ami before letting her go. "Rei, she doesn't need our help," Makoto told her, as Rei sat there in confusion. "She needs us to be happy for her, even though we *don't* understand what she's dealing with." Rei looked to Minako and Artemis who both just looked as surprised as she felt. Usagi looked aghast, but thankfully Mamoru was there to reassure her that what had happened wasn't her fault. Rei agreed; she knew the fault was her own. Ami hadn't been keeping anything in. She'd been trying to put up with her mouthing off about the women she lived with. Luna however had turned back to them with a sigh. "You shouldn't need protecting from each other, whether you think it's necessary or not," she said pointedly, but to Rei's relief she did not aim it at anyone in particular. Makoto rose, presumably to go and apologise for what they had said. She seemed to know what Ami needed best from her friends, but Rei wasn't going to have her taking the blame for this. She reached up and pulled the taller girl back to the floor. "Sorry, Mako. I'll go." She found Ami just standing with her back to the countertop in the kitchen. She looked upset rather than angry, but that was no better in Rei's mind. "Ami-chan? I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Rei couldn't believe how charitable Ami was when she turned and gave her a weak smile. "It's okay. I shouldn't have shouted like that. I know it's hard to understand - I don't really understand it myself - but I'm not lying. We're all working out okay, and I don't want to be pitied for managing that. Or for not having Haruka for myself. If anyone has that claim it isn't me." Then, from behind Rei, Usagi appeared with her own pair of moist eyes. "I'm sorry too, Ami-chan. I really am happy for you. And I do know Michiru-san likes you. It's just... a bit confusing." "Yes," Ami agreed, accepting a hug that Usagi looked like she needed. "It is confusing. But it's alright like that." Pretty soon they had all migrated to the kitchen, and Rei manoeuvred Makoto over to where she was making tea for them all, to settle their hesitations. "I've got to start listening to you." Makoto just shrugged. She obviously thought so too, but as much Ami had not needed the aggravation it had shed its own light on the subject. "But now we know for sure," she said with a tone of relief. "And at least you cared enough to show it." *** "I'm home." Though there were no sounds of feet coming to greet her, Ami heard Hotaru's voice echo from the living room. "Welcome back! Did you have fun at Rei-san's?" Stepping inside Ami saw that Hotaru was alone, and had set aside a book of homework to lie on the couch, staring over the arm rest at her. "Yes, we had fun. Though it was a little tense at times." "Tense?" Ami nodded. "I think Rei-chan and Usagi-chan were worried about me, all alone and at Haruka-chan and Michiru-chan's mercy!" Hotaru took the joke in the spirit it was meant and giggled with her, but she evidently understood far more from it than Ami had intended. "They were worried like your Mum was?" "Yes," Ami replied truthfully. "And I couldn't do much more to reassure them than I could for her. How do you explain it?" "I don't," Hotaru said, giving an unconcerned shrug and seeming not to realise it had been a rhetorical question. "I gave up trying to explain Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama before I got put forward in school again. We couldn't explain why I was getting older faster than anyone else either. Or why I can heal people. It's easier not to say anything." Ami would have agreed, if only it was that easy. "But if you don't say anything when your friends are concerned, they only worry more." That gave Hotaru pause for thought. "Then I hope my friends don't find out about it. Except you all of course!" Ami smiled in agreement, and decided that was a good place to manoeuvre to a less melancholic subject. There was time to talk to Hotaru about friends and secrets later. Keeping the one from the other had never done her any good. "So, what are we working on tonight?" "Maths," Hotaru replied simply, pulling herself upright again and slipping off the sofa to kneel in front of the low table again. "It's really easy. Boringly easy." "In that case the sooner you finish it the sooner you won't have to stare at it any more," Ami said, hoping she didn't sound too much like she was lecturing. "That's what I do. Then I can work on what I *want* to." Worryingly, Hotaru gave her one of those looks that the other girls might have after coming out with something that betrayed her workaholic nature. "Ami-papa, that's what *this* book is for!" The fifteen year old held up the novel she had left down beside the table. It was probably one of Michiru's, or else the girl had kept a interest for historical fantasy a well hidden secret up until now, but the bookmark indicated that she was already a fair way through the hefty paperback. "There's only so much time a girl can spend studying." Ami chose not to answer that, but at the same time the irony was not lost on her that, at Hotaru's age, her own friends would have said there was only so much time a girl could spend *reading*, full stop. "In that case I'll leave you to it," she said, unable to keep the smile off her face. "Where is everyone else?" Hotaru sighed. "Setsuna-mama said she had to work again, and left after dinner." At least she did come to eat this time, Ami thought, but she let Hotaru continue. "Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama said they had something to talk about, and went to the study. They wouldn't tell me what though," Hotaru said, unhappy about being left out. "Haruka-papa was quiet all through dinner after reading that letter." "Letter?" That was odd. The study was usually reserved for Setsuna's use, and aside from the house reference library it didn't house anything the others often needed. But maybe Ami was of more use keeping Hotaru company than intruding on her partners. "Oh. Well, did you have fun at the exhibition?" "Oh yes, that was a lot more fun this time than I expected!" *** As Hotaru had said, when Haruka and Michiru did finally emerge neither was as content or talkative as Ami had hoped. It was nice to put their minds at ease with the acceptance the other girls had shown to her that day, even if Ami had to do a little editing around the edges to take the fire out of their friends' initial concerns, but it was clear that Haruka had other things on her mind than what Rei or Usagi thought of them, and Michiru was distracted by it. Ami wondered if emerging from her teens had made her more of a busybody because, while it was late before she had summoned up the courage, she did eventually ask what it was that neither of them had told her that evening. She was disappointed when Haruka did not tell her the truth. "Don't worry about it, it's just hormones," Haruka lied, not unconvincingly, as she returned from the en suite bathroom. "I never realised it was possible for a bra to get quite this uncomfortable until baby started interfering." Ami didn't think Haruka had done it on purpose, but she had unbuttoned her shirt at just the right time to show off the bra in question. For a moment it did manage to distract Ami from her question. "Do you think you might be trading in your morning sickness for sore breasts?" "I hope so," Haruka said after a moment. "I think this is preferable to any more weeks like the last few." She unhooked the garment and arched her back a little, a smouldering smile appearing on her face. "Do you promise to be gentle tonight?" And Ami was sorely tempted. Recently Haruka had been in no state of mind or body for any extracurricular activity, but while she wanted to accept Ami decided to put her desire for honesty before her libido. "Haruka," she said slipping her hands around her lover's bare waist, "you can distract me all you want, but it won't work forever. You barely said a word tonight, and it can't just have been your breasts keeping you pre-occupied." Haruka sagged a little, though whether it was the prospect of admitting the truth or her lack of success in tempting her this time Ami couldn't tell. "Honestly Ami, it's not anything important. Just baggage." "But it did upset you." "No. It was just unexpected." "I'd still like to know." Last try, Ami thought. Then I'll just have to trust her. It was enough. "...We got a letter while we were out. My sister wants to see us." "Sister?" Ami didn't know what else so say in the wake of that statement. "I didn't know you had a sister." Haruka gave her a grim smile and fetched her robe from the back of the wardrobe door. "Neither did I. Not for quite a while anyway." But Haruka did not elaborate further, so it was left to Ami to try and stumble forward and find out what on earth she meant. "So... when are we meeting her?" "We're not." Haruka said it with a firmer voice than Ami was used to hearing from her. At least not when out of her sailor fuku. "I don't know her, and I doubt my parents have told her much about me that might make a meeting go well." By that point Ami's brain had re-engaged with the rest of her, and she made the first, most natural observation. "How old is she? She must be very young if you have never even met her. Perhaps this is a way for your parents to try and contact you?" "I doubt it. We have an agreement. They leave me alone, and I leave them alone. And she's adopted, so she could be in her teens by now. Hell, she could be older than me. As far as I know, they took her in when I left home." It hurt Ami to hear the tone of disgust in Haruka's voice. "I take it you didn't leave willingly?" "I had become an embarrassment to them, and I made it clear that I was going to pursue sports, and racing, and other girls, whether they liked it or not. And I was drawing attention to myself by winning track races by then. If they disowned me, I'd make it clear to Japan that I was going to be a success and still be *their* greatest mistake. They gave me a one bed apartment and an allowance, and I didn't get them involved in my life." It was an angry admission but one with firm, underlying acceptance to it. Haruka had certainly got the better end of her deal, and she knew it. Her parents must not have been so completely dismissive of her. "She was my replacement, so why would she want to see me?" Ami had to ask, and she asked gently, taking Haruka's arm. "Don't you want to find out?" "No." It wasn't an immediate response, but it was a clear one. "For all I know she's just seen me in a magazine, or on the TV. Me, and Michiru and Hotaru. Maybe you and Michiru too. I'm not letting her re- open that can of tripe." Ami sighed, and accepted that. It was Haruka's family, and she had the right to deal with this however wanted. But, "I can't believe I moved in with you and there's still so much about you I don't know." She softened what might have been an accusation with a kiss against Haruka's cheek. "I'm glad your parents left you money to live on. You have obviously used it well." Haruka laughed for the first time that night. "Hardly. I told you, Michiru is the one with the money. I have - had - the Ferrari, before it got busted in that last fight. And I've still got the Suzuki. And Hotaru. When I do make money, that's where it goes. And I've got you to spend it on too now." Ami blushed. "You don't have to buy me anything." "Like you didn't buy me a certain very expensive brooch not all that long ago?" "Yes, maybe I did. So, does that mean that Michiru-san was your mysterious 'wealthy benefactor'?" "Yeah," Haruka said, a little more quietly than was needed. "Something like that. I don't know whether she got a better deal out of her parents than me, or the worst." "How do you mean?" Haruka sighed, and Ami realised that Haruka probably wasn't supposed to be telling her this. But she did. "It was her inheritance." "...I didn't know," Ami said, for the second time that night, and feeling bad that Michiru wasn't there to tell her herself. "Did they get on?" "Yeah, they did as far as I know. Michi's never given me reason to think otherwise. Now come to bed already. We can talk about it with her tomorrow if you want, and I'm tired now." Ami agreed and got up, giving her a last kiss before heading for the bathroom, grateful for what she had heard. "You lie down then. I'll be there in a minute." *** "Aino-san, thank you again for coming. I do apologise for interrupting any plans you had." Minako looked at her employer across the small, elaborately set dining table. Not even her director, but the outright owner of their entire enterprise. "No, it wasn't a problem, Ono-san" she replied, making sure to be as polite as possible. "My parents have eaten without me before." A small attempt at humour, but Ono Marya seemed to appreciate it in those kinds of small doses. Either that, or the immaculately dressed businesswoman simply smiled to humour her, but it seemed genuine to Minako. "You still live at home with them?" Minako blushed in embarrassment, and nodded. Perhaps that was giving too much information. "Yes. I just... haven't needed to move." Or had the money, but that wasn't something to tell the woman paying her salary. In truth Minako could have afforded to rent a flat of her own ever since appearing with Sailor Uranus at their press conference, but Minako was much more cautious with her money these days. She had a scooter to fuel and maintain, and moving out would have lowered her living standards quite a bit. Putting up with her parents, uninterested or disapproving as they could be, was worth it for the moment. "I had taken you for something more of a free spirit," Marya said, observing her over what little remained of their late evening meal. There was a scrutiny in those eyes that unnerved Minako, and yet this business and theatrical giant was still perfectly friendly with it. "But I shouldn't pry. I did not ask you here to put you under yet more investigation." Minako wanted to ask why she had invited her, and only her, to dine in her personal quarters at the park. Marya was not inclined to keep that a secret however, and answered the unspoken question without prompt. "My secretary leads me to believe that the police were more thorough with you than they had any right to be these last weeks. For that, Aino-san, I apologise." Minako was taken aback. "Ono-san? No, really, it was just to be expected. After all, I know I'm hard to nail down, always going and coming! I guess I was just a natural suspect." And she had been, according to detective Tokuno. The police had finished with most of the park staff after the first week and a half of investigations into Mita Lili's disappearance. Minako had suffered another five days of grilling, interviews and recounting her steps on that night two weeks ago. After all that time she would barely have remembered what it was she *had* done, if she hadn't spent the entire night with her friends. She *did* have an unfair reputation - though well deserved - of vanishing at the strangest of moments. She couldn't very well tell the police that it was all just to dress up in a multicoloured leotard to fight invaders from outer space! "Maybe so, but your alibi was sound and there was no evidence that you, or any of my players, were involved any more than one of the technicians. Such harassment on top of your already taxing stage performances were putting undue and notable strain on you, and I will see to it that you are suitably compensated." "Ono-san." Minako didn't know what to say. Was her boss taking a legal line with the police, or was she intending to do this herself? And why go out of her way for a newbie actress? Marya also answered that. "I need you fit and able, Minako-san. Your part in our production is an unusual and noteworthy one for a play such as ours, and I am sure you know that you have already been singled out for attention by the critics." That was true, and Minako had been overjoyed about it. It was 'a daring role, played with surprising delicacy and physical skill from a newcomer only known for her cheerful and entirely unsubtle attitude before now.' Minako had taken it as the first true recognition of her herself as an actress and the review was now pinned to her bedroom wall. "We do not want to have to cancel the play, but you *were* the replacement for the part of Mina, so we do not yet have a fully trained understudy to take over for you. As such, I need you to be looking out for your health, Minako-san. After the recent difficulties if you require lodgings, or a chauffeur, you will ask me personally. Understood?" That made more sense. It was still totally unexpected, but if Minako did fall ill then she would not be able to jump around on stage in the way the audience would be expecting. And the familiarity that Marya showed her only made her seem more sincere. "Thank you, Ono-san. That is far too generous." "No, it is deserved and it is necessary. Your hard work for us is appreciated. But it is late and neither of us needs to think any more about such things until the morning. You enjoyed the meal?" "Yes. I've always liked Western food." "As have I. I did not remember meat being so scant here at home." *** Once Minako had left, chauffeured back to her home in Tokyo proper, Marya wasted no time in leaving their plates and glasses for the housekeeping staff. It was late to be prowling the halls of the on site residences, especially on a Sunday, but even so the strong urgency in her step was unmistakeable. And as she strode, the shadow strode with her. It thrilled at her impatience, and fed it with eager anticipation. Marya slipped her phone from her pocket, calling her personal secretary without breaking stride. "Kizugi-san. Was there a reaction?" "Yes, Marya-san. More than just a reaction. That girl is..." Kizugi, though sounding dour as ever, seemed lost for words. That was enough information though, and Marya's anticipation burned even greater. "Meet me downstairs. Now." "Yes, Marya-san." It didn't cross Marya's mind to watch her words, or even that there might have been need to, but no one was about as she traversed the corridors and entered the lift. The doors closed behind her, and as she turned she could have sworn that the metallic reflection she saw in those doors was darker than it should have been in the brightly lit elevator. But a blink of an eye later and she was proved wrong, and so her mind turned back inwards. The residential and office complex had been built into the winding haunted house, soundproofed of course, but only Kizugi and she knew how deep into the hillside the building sank. In the earlier stages of construction the landscapers had used an old set of plans, and dug an entire dungeon floor for the attraction that had been cancelled many months before. Except that it hadn't been cancelled at all. Merely appropriated for Marya's personal use. Accidents happen, and the workmen had been forced to finish the job, in case more office or living space was ever needed. Everyone knew it never would be, but the way she had told it, it made sense to plan against future eventualities and make use of the unfortunate mistake. Of course, she couldn't have staff snooping around in barely finished and unfitted areas of the building, so she and her secretary had the only keys to both the lift exit and the 'basement entrance' back into the haunted house itself. However, Marya had fitted the place herself. She had told her secretary what was needed, and he had outdone himself in his efficiency. The main chamber, their laboratory, held cage after cage of animals across its far wall. Those few creatures with the energy squeaked and cried as Marya entered, but she had long since become used to the noise. She pitied the poor exhausted animals, but they were only that. Animals. They had served her well, and those that had died had done so to ensure that no human need suffer their fate. Under them the computers, sample chambers and test tubes lined the work benches, interspersed with pieces of machinery that no layman could have guessed the use of. From the ceiling the one free animal, a white winged bat, released its hold and flew down to land on Marya's crimson padded shoulder. "Vesper. Have you been a good girl?" The bat chirruped in reply, and Marya stroked her fingers down its fur. Then she turned, to greet the young woman who hung from their finest apparatus. "Good evening, Lili-chan." She raised a hand to caress the student's pale face. "Are you feeling better?" Mita Lili shrank away from the touch, but said nothing. She had stopped begging for her release after the first week and now, much as it might have scared her, just waited for the inevitable. She hadn't the energy to struggle any more. But Marya was not so cruel. It was for the greater good, and Lili would be the most beloved of many. The first human to give the gift of life to their Shard, and the first to illuminate the path forward after a year of stagnation. The technological restraint kept her standing, but Lili did not hang from its arms. The conductors at either side of her supported both the shackles that fastened to her wrists and the harness that held her waist, and opposite her chest sat the loading system and the cradle for Marya's Shard. "I will bring dinner for you soon, Lili-chan. Do not sleep just yet." It was then that the door opened again, and the howling of the animals in their cages greeted Kizugi as it had Marya. "Marya-san." He proffered the shard of green crystal that he held in his hands. Though only a splinter, and viciously sharp at its broken edge, the Shard was large enough that he could offer it as if it were a ceremonial dagger, and Marya took it in the same fashion. "It did not just shimmer and glow," Kizugi said, his eyes never leaving the crystal from behind his think glasses. "Next to the Aino girl... It shone with the brightness of a star! That girl is special, somehow. She is a creature of *life*. It was all I could do to keep her from noticing its light." Marya gazed at it with reverence, paying only slight attention to the large man and she turned back to Lili. "Yes, it is not beyond belief. Aino Minako is more alive than most. If the Sailor Senshi recognise her, no wonder your soul is so eager to be seen by her." She held up the Shard to Lili's eyes, and almost instantly the green, twisting tendrils of light began to flicker and glow, reaching out of their crystal prison to the body they had been separated from. "Look, my beloved Lili. Your soul is so honest with itself. The energy that is you, alive." Then Marya took the Shard away, before the tendrils could reach her, and they sank slowly back into the crystal. "But do not mourn its loss. You will not miss it, and what I can give you in return... Lili-chan, it will set you free!" With that she set the dagger-like Shard in its cradle and locked it in place on the delivery track that would take it to Lili's heart. It would be the carefully cut blunt end that would touch her chest, not the sharp, broken tip, but Lili's eyes widened in fear all the same. She knew what would come after this. "No..." Lili whispered. "Please. No more. I'll do whatever you want. Please." The desperate voice tore at Marya's heart strings, but she was powerless to stop herself. She had come too far to give up on her own desperate dreams now. Not after everything she had achieved. "No, little Lili. No more. Not tonight. Tonight you must rest, and soon you will understand. Soon." Suddenly a new voice joined them, and both Marya and Kizugi spun around in shock to see a tall, tanned woman wearing white and green step from the shadows at the rear of the lab. Sailor Pluto. "Perhaps you could enlighten us *now*." Marya stepped back. How could anyone else have got here?! Only she and Kizugi had access to their laboratory! "W-who are you?" Sailor Pluto stood strong and sure with her staff at her side. Against that formidable presence even a woman of Marya's status and stature had to tremble. Sailor Pluto stared at them and humoured the redundant question. "I am merely an asteroid with delusions of grandeur." Kizugi pulled a device from his shirt and instantly levelled it, like a pistol or a television remote, at the costumed heroine. In that same instant Sailor Pluto brought her staff down to point the gem at its top at the broad secretary. Even Vesper, clutching to Marya's shoulder, screeched at the intruder. Yet they both hesitated. Kizugi's device, his weapon, housed a crystal only a fraction the size of their precious Shard, yet it had been re-cut and made whole again - and wasted as jewellery - long before the Shard had been found. Now, after all their experimenting, if he released its power the rage and hatred it held would be let loose upon the Senshi in front of him. It was a power that could tear matter, any matter, to shreds. The raw, trapped energy would unleash its own righteous fury upon its target. And the concern on Sailor Pluto's face showed that somehow she knew even *she* was in danger now. At the same time, everyone in Japan had seen Sailor Pluto unleash her magic on her foes, and cut the tarmac apart as if it was butter with her Dead Scream bolt. What would that power do to a mortal man, with no demonic power to protect him? Is that why Kizugi himself hesitated? "Stop, both of you!" Marya commanded. "No-one will die here." Kizugi barely hesitated and did as he was told, and Sailor Pluto followed in kind. "You will not hinder us," Kizugi said unnecessarily, but Sailor Pluto turned her attention to Marya and Lili instead. "A warning, Ono Marya. You do not want to be doing this. If you pursue this dark path it will undo you. You will regret it for the rest of your life. And we *will* stop you, with every means at our disposal." "I won't allow it," Marya snarled, filled with a sudden, unaccountable rage. "They don't deserve to die. I will protect my family, and they will be able to defend themselves, even from *you*. I will make sure of it!" In response Sailor Pluto turned her back, and held her staff against a wall of thin air which rippled against the shadows. "Think carefully about what you are doing, Ono-san. Kidnapping, the stealing of energy - of life... You know this is wrong." Then she paused. "Mita-san," she said to Lili after a moment. "I'm sorry." Marya watched as Sailor Pluto stepped away from them and vanished beneath the shadowy curtains of her portal. How dare she! How dare she invade their workplace, and tell her to abandon the family that she was working so hard to rebuild! "W-wait, please!" Lili whispered in despair beside her, and Marya turned to hold the woman as best she could. The embrace was awkward, around the mechanical harness. "Don't worry, Lili, my precious girl. I won't let her harm you." Poor Lili, she thought as the tired girl wept in her arms. Lili would receive the greatest gift, she decided then and there. She would be the one to protect her brothers and sisters. "I will be back soon, Lili-chan," she said to try and reassure the pale young woman. "I will have something special made for dinner." She left with Kizugi in tow, and her bat still perched on her shoulder. "Kizugi-san, we can't delay any longer. If the Sailor Senshi do not understand what I am doing then we no longer have the luxury of time. Move up my schedule as best you can." Then after a moment's thought she added, "And do I have anything set for this Saturday evening, after the performance?" "No, Marya-san." "Then reserve it. I will be dining with Aino Minako-san again." How wonderfully fortunate to have met her, she thought with a laugh. And at her back, her shadow laughed with her. *** To Be Continued... *** Please send any comments and constructive criticism to: nutzoide@nutzoide.net They are always greatly appreciated, and there is no better reward for a writer than to hear back from the readers. (c) Nutzoide 2009-2011 http://www.nutzoide.net