Author's Note: This tale does not belong in the same universe as Out of the Abyss and Heart of Darkness. It is inspired by the bizarrely wonderful Texts From Last Night page, as well as Texts From Crystal Tokyo. I highly recommend the second, which can be found on Tumblr. Any and all text messages come from Texts From Last Night.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon, Texts From Last Night, or Texts From Crystal Tokyo. I am making no profit from this story, as anyone who has seen my bank account would know.
Childhood is a fleeting thing. Youth can cling to a person for only so long before the world slowly wears it away. Though they may carry with them their courage and their pure hearts, girls will shake off the protection of their innocence and step forward into the world as young women. Not each step is steady or true, but maturity and wisdom can only be found along a road of vast and varied experiences.
Shortly after Michiru woke to see of her phone blinking a text alert, she wished this were not the case.
Sighing, Michiru rolled over onto her back and snagged the phone from the bedside table. She did not even have to glance at the other side of the bed to know it was empty. Perhaps this would be concerning to most people, but with the odd and hectic lives of Sailor Senshi an absentee partner was not exactly an emergency. Michiru had known that rehearsal would probably run late and she had told her lover just that. After several moments of sulking over lunch, Haruka had reluctantly decided that she would then accept an earlier offer from Minako to attend a party.
Something must have happened after the party, Michiru guessed muzzily as she tapped at her phone's screen. Some kind of enemy or emergency…but still, they should have been home by now. What are they—?
The screen finally came to life under the musician's fingers and her thoughts stuttered to a sudden alarmed stop. Her eyes found ten messages from Minako, five from Usagi, two from Rei, and twelve from Haruka.
"What?" Michiru gasped in shock. Her mind sprang back to life with a thousand possible calamities chasing each other around her head. She imagined sudden carnage in Tokyo, monsters or demons or something perhaps even worse. Without bothering with the other twenty-eight messages, she went straight to the last one. It had come at just after 3 a.m. In the seconds it took for the text to upload she swung her legs out of bed and prepared to leap to her feet.
The name Hino Rei appeared at the top of the screen, along with the face of the lovely priestess. Michiru skimmed the two sentences of the text as she opened the drawer to the bedside table and groped for her wand. She found this, but instead of shouting out for Neptune's power she merely sat back down on the mattress and read the message again, slower this time.
A third perusal led to the wand returning to the bedside table. Michiru stared at the text with her mouth slightly open in shock. One hand went to her chest, just over her heart and where she hid her talisman, her mirror. She, Haruka, and Setsuna had been entrusted with these three sacred objects of power with the understanding that they would only be called forth in a moment of last resort. This was their duty, the thing that set them apart from their younger "sisters", and a Senshi lived and died for her duty. Haruka would never be careless with her own talisman.
Once more, and very slowly and carefully, Michiru read the message that Rei had sent her and she felt her jaw tighten.
"I'm going to kill her."
For once Michiru was somewhat careless with her clothing. She pulled out a pair of jeans, something she rarely wore, and a soft purple shirt that had seen better days. A brilliant pink elastic pulled back her hair with wild strands sticking out around her face and curling at the nape of her neck. With socks in one hand and her phone in the other she hurried from the room.
A light from the kitchen caught her notice as she rushed down the stairs, as did the smell of freshly brewed coffee. After a moment of hesitation she veered toward the source of that aroma. Making one cup would give her more than enough time to think this through rationally…and consider what she would do once she found Haruka.
Only Setsuna sat at the kitchen table, buttered toast on a plate, a cup of coffee beside it, and her eyes fixed on the laptop computer that had been a gift from Ami. While the thought had been that the laptop would assist Setsuna in research she had an unfortunate tendency to become lost in links from one site to the next, bouncing happily down whatever trail led from her original inquiry. It had been a sad day in the house the Outer Senshi shared when Setsuna discovered Wikipedia.
"Good morning," Setsuna muttered distractedly as Michiru pounced on the coffee maker. "How was rehearsal last night?"
"Good," the other woman snapped. She seized the cream from the refrigerator and dumped far more than she should have into her mug. The sugar came next and she gave the concoction a vigorous stir that sent several drops spilling over the edge. These she ignored as she hastened to shove cream and sugar back into their proper places.
Still staring intently at her computer, Setsuna asked, "Haven't these rehearsals been running late for the last few weeks? Is there a problem in the orchestra?"
"Only that the new conductor wants to sleep with me and is punishing the entire company until I do."
Michiru took a deep, scalding gulp of coffee. When she lowered her mug she found that she had arrested Setsuna's attention completely.
"Is this one of those times you say something just to see if I'm listening?"
"Actually, no," Michiru admitted. "He is pushing the rehearsals later and later. His hope is that one day I will have to ask him for a ride home, thus giving him a chance to win me over. I really thought he would have given up by now. It's not as if my relationship with Haruka is a secret in the orchestra."
"It's not a secret from the people who pass on the street," Setsuna said with a smirk. "Except those neighbors who insist on believing we are all cousins. What a strange family they must think we have."
"We're three women raising a child together, and that is the most normal thing about this household."
"Fair point. What are you going to do about this conductor?"
Michiru shrugged, which earned her a look of surprise. "The string section took a vote and decided we should get through this show before I bring up my concerns to the orchestra's manager. The rest of the company seems to agree with us, though I think there might be mutiny brewing in the percussion section. It's only another week, after which the manager can either try to replace one conductor or thirty-six string musicians."
"That should be an interesting conversation," Setsuna agreed. "One more question; why are you downing coffee the way one would a beer when they're answering a challenge by their friends?"
The empty coffee mug went into the sink with a clatter. "That will teach you not to bet Haruka she couldn't do it in one breath. Speaking of which, haven't you noticed something about Haruka?"
"Um, I haven't seen her this morning," Setsuna said, "so no, not really."
Michiru smirked dangerously. "I haven't either. She never came home last night."
"I thought she was asleep with you!" In much the same state as Michiru just minutes before, Setsuna sprang up and reached automatically into her pocket for the wand resting there. "Do you know where she is? Have you tried the communicators yet?"
Instead of answering directly, Michiru brought Rei's last text onto the screen of her phone. She held it out to the other woman, who paused in her anxious questions to read. A confused frown began, then grew on the second reading. After the third she looked up at Michiru with alarm in her garnet eyes.
"She wouldn't."
"I'm not so certain about that, especially not when you take into account what else it says."
Setsuna ran a hand over her eyes and returned her wand to her pocket. "Should we look for her?"
"Absolutely," Michiru growled through her teeth. "I want to know exactly what the hell happened last night!"
This time both of them moved toward the door, the toast left untouched on the plate and Michiru's socks still in her hand. Socks and shoes were donned and Michiru had just put her phone back into her pocket when voices came, muffled, through the door. Though the words were lost the voices themselves were familiar, as was a trilling laugh. There was something strange about that laugh, not the way it usually sounded, almost as if it were lurching to one side and unable to find its normal tones.
Michiru yanked the door open and soon discovered why.