Hello, just a short writing exercise to get me back in the mood, I wanna start working on my dangerous liaisons meet sailor moon fic I've been dying to do for the past two years now…

This is rei centred (my fav Senshi of course!), kinda dark and whiny, but then when you're dying you're allowed to be depressed aren't you?

Well let me know what you think of this ickle one-fic. Criticisms, flames, praise, anything will do and any helpful improvement tips would be great. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon, just the fic I wrote using its characters.

A Mind Never Loses Its Fire

by CC2

Atear formed in her eye, it built up, and as she coughed it spilled over, quickly being replaced by another. Her lungs were raw with pain, every gasp for breath was like a razor scratching through her windpipe. Her arms felt weak, her legs were made of lead and her head seemed like it was being thrown around in a roomful of sharp objects. But what she found the most unbearable was her hair, it was spread out over the floor, dirty, muddy; half wet with sweat and half caked in dried blood. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but she just couldn't, it summed up too well how she felt, her once lustrous, midnight locks which she had meticulously cared for every day, her one source of vanity, were now tangled, ugly, worthless, destroyed, wasted, mangled and lifeless. Well, maybe she wasn't lifeless yet…or was she? What did that word mean anyway? She hacked up another involuntary mix of phlegm and blood, spitting it out as best she could. She wasn't meant to be lying here, she was not meant to be chocking slowly on her own blood, shivering on the cold wooden floorboards of what was once her sanctuary. No, - wait - she had not planned to be there, obviously divine intervention had made it so that she was meant to be there, or she wouldn't have been there at all, would she? Besides, what did it matter? Fate, destiny, they were simply words; nothing made sense unless you wanted it to.

Her eyes roamed around the room, blinking away the tears as they pooled in their ducts. She saw the pyre, no longer alight, but dead, black and broken. Memories of spending hours beside it, sweating and straining and praying to the spirits to help her find solutions and avoid the Great War, jarred her mind. She could no longer smell the heady scent of wood and coal that once lingered here. She could no longer smell anything, whether it was because she was dying or the aroma had disappeared with the room's destruction, she didn't know. She didn't care too much either. She wandered where the others were, she thought briefly about where she had last seen them all; she had caught site of Ami running through the grass as she was mounting the stairs of the tower. She had seen her through the thin slit window, a flash of blue and she was gone. The rest? When they had separated shhe supposed. What if they were dead too? They probably were. It was funny, she didn't feel like crying for them, she wasn't even sad…so what were the tears for? Pain? Anger? Hate? Her head swam as her vision kept losing and regaining focus; she shut her eyes tightly, bringing back memories of just before the war, with full force.

In hindsight, the outbreak had almost been a relief to her. The whole purpose of her station of Sailor Senshi was to protect Usagi from the ever-present threat of…well to use a cliché, evil. The war ended the constant apprehension that she and all the other Senshi felt: the evil had finally arrived, when they defeated it – she had always tried to be strong, using if was suggesting failure – life was supposed to become peaceful, hopeful and happy once again. She had been afraid of if, she had been terrified of it, tormented all her life by the constant fear of the wicked force which threatened their existence, of failing those who she had been charged to protect. She had been afraid of the war, but when it finally did arrive, she realised what a mistake she made by trying to stop it coming. She was after all, its Senshi. She hated what the war had done, hated it with all her soul, but as much as she would have liked to hide it, she enjoyed the blood, she enjoyed the killing and the mutilation and power that came with ending life. It gave her a certain amount of revenge. She had lost so much to fear, suffered so much agony and sacrifice because of the fickle people who brought this misery upon them, she had wanted them all to die.

What they had been saying at the war's official declaration, it all so seemed so important then, it had meant to so much, caused so much anger and dread - it felt like nothing now, "You were destined for this war," "The fate of the universe depends on you," "You, the Senshi, are our last hope," that's what they had all said. But now that she was thinking about it, so what? Why had she cared so much in the first place? Why had she found the things that only brought her unhappiness so important? From the very beginning of her life, she had always followed, obeyed and sacrificed. Why did she waste all that time on training? On hiding her emotions? On denying herself everything she had ever wanted? They hadn't been able to stop the apocalypse. It came, it went, and this was all that was left, her eyes opened and looked around again at the desolate room. The ancient hangings had been ripped down, soiled by evil hands. The dark, solid pillars were smashed; the delicate rice paper wall dividers, once so carefully handled, had been shred and strewn on the floor like confetti; and her blood was everywhere (was it hers? Where had it all come from?). What had been the point of it all?

She understood now why Setsuna had always been so collected in a crisis, there was always a calm after a storm, a realisation of the lack of importance of everything in life, there had been no reason to have worried so much, to have feared for her own life, for Usagi's life. What would happen would happen; there was nothing else you could do. Usa was dead, and the fire in her own body was being extinguished, what else was there but to acknowledge the facts? She coughed again, blood harshly ripped at her throat as it surged from her lungs to her mouth. It tasted like metal, as if she had licked a sword and cut her tongue. It coated her teeth, making them slip and grind further as she gritted them in pain. Her skin was cold and clammy, and felt claustrophobic, her brain pounded against her skull and she had even less control of her body than before. Why couldn't she have just died quickly? The suffering was driving her insane.

They had spent years worrying. Then they spent years fighting it, back and forth between the earth and the moon, sometimes winning ground, sometimes losing it. Twelve years of battling the armies of Metallia, a lifetime time preparing for it. It had been grotesque, inhuman and unfair! Her life had been wasted; she should have run away, she should have told them to go burn in the depths of hell when they said she had to face destiny. Who were they to tell her how she was supposed to lead her life? Who had decided for her that her soul was not her own? Why had she let them? God, she had let them! For love and friendship and duty, she had let them, and look how they repaid her sacrifice… Had she given into her fears, run away like a coward, she may have died in the end, but at least she would have died free. No responsibility, no duty, just freedom. She shuddered at the thought. Pure freedom, was that what was waiting for her at the end? Was her soul going to be free now? Now there was no one to protect? No one left to love? The thought was not as comforting as she would have liked. She tried to swallow down the rising sting of red vomit in her throat; maybe she had wanted to be caged, the need to fear, suffer and protect, is that what had given her life purpose? She laughed bitterly at the thought, but all that came out were gurgling sounds, she was chocking, and she couldn't suck in more air, her lungs were already full of the normally life giving fluid that pumped through her veins. The floorboards underneath her were sticky with blood and jarred her back; all she wanted was for death to hurry up a little. Her life had been useless, she had failed in her duty, but then, it no longer mattered, nothing made a difference anymore, any reason for it to was gone or had never really existed, false hope, her life had been filled with false hopes. If she had known she would have ended up like this, if she had realised at the beginning that everything was futile, and that at her last moment of life she would regret everything, she asked herself if she would she have done anything different. Tears of blood burned tracks along her face as they spilled sideward from the ends of her eyes to her ears, making dripping sounds, which echoed loudly against her eardrums. She smiled sadly. No. She would not have done anything different.

Without you, who would have protected them? Ami needed your strength, Mako needed your understanding, Mina needed your insight, and Usagi…Usagi needed your love, your friendship, you time, your energy, your protection. She needed your entire soul. The girl could ask so much with nothing other than a look. You could deny her nothing, you could only give her everything. But she would simply stare back with those forget-me-not eyes, begging you for more, for something to make her whole. And you would search, use all your power to help her find what she was looking for, she would drain you completely. And all she would do was give you a look.

Maybe she would have changed one thing, maybe she wouldn't have let herself fall in love with him…

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

No one mourned for the Senshi of Fire and War, her body was found under the rubble of her personal meditation room and burned publicly along with those of the other Senshi in honour of Queen Metallia becoming the new ruler of the Solar System. Long after it was thought the last person had left this ceremony, a man finally immerged from the shadows, his blond waves and crystal blue eyes hidden under a dark cloak. He walked up to the burnt skeletal structure that had once beautiful princess of Mars and collected some of her charred remains. Holding the delicate ashes close to his face, he whispered a few words, his breath sent them floating into the midnight breeze, his gaze followed the dusty particles as they rose in the air and glowed in the moonlight and the slowly blended in with the night. He had loved her once, but she and the other Senshi had chosen to save their princess over his prince. They had let him die, even though they had sworn to keep him safe, and so out of duty and anger he and the other Kings had changed their allegiance. From then on, she had been his enemy. Now, he had finally had his revenge, the war was over, his side had won. At the very least he could offer her a token of respect, a small prayer of peace for dead souls.

Right, hope you enjoyed, kinda liked the idea of giving the Shittenou a good reason for once for joining the evil side. See ya!

Charliechaplin2 copyright 2005