Similitude Chapter 1: Attack In Broad Daylight, a sailor moon fanfic

Similitude
Chapter 1: "Attack In Broad Daylight"
A neo-Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

From the database of famous quotes: "There will always be things, no matter how large or small, that one person shall have and another person shall covet. It is the human condition." - Sergei Gregarov, Russian cyber-novelist, 2322

Hotaru Tomoe sat in her Extra-Sensory Perception Training Class, her face scrunched up in agonizing frustration. She stared at the lead weight on the table in front of her. It was a two pound cube of dull, dark gray metal, unremarkable in every way. Her assignment was to lift it into the air using nothing but the electromagnetic force waves her mind could generate. Once levitated, she was to turn it over and, only if she was comfortable doing so, send it in a single controlled orbit around her head before setting it back on the table.

Well all that was fine. But first she had to get it into the air. No matter how much she stared at it, the best she could do was get it to wiggle a little on the desk. So engrossed was she in moving the object that when her instructor touched her shoulder, Hotaru jumped with a start.

"Concentration is admirable," Sun Zhong-Ju said, "but concentration to the exclusion of all else means one misses a great deal of the world's wonders."

"I don't understand why I can't do it," Hotaru offered. "I've lifted the weight before. Sure, it wasn't very steady, but at least I could get it into the air."

"Do you feel your center?" Sun asked her, his ancient Chinese features placid, though drooping.

"It's there," Hotaru said reluctantly, "somewhere."

"You are troubled?"

Hotaru just sat uncomfortably.

"It isn't necessary to explain why you are troubled if the matter is personal," Sun smiled. "But troubled thoughts are like ripples in a pond. They obscure what you gaze at through the water. We will always have troubled thoughts. The key is to set them aside so you may contact your center and let your power flow through your mind."

"I'm sorry, Sensei," Hotaru frowned.

"Do not apologize, Tomoe-Chan," Sun advised her. "Your inability to make your telekinetic power do as you command is not a failing within yourself. It is merely an obstacle to be overcome. Your solution to this obstacle is to conclude that you are inadequate. My advice is to find a different solution."

Sun patted her shoulder and moved on to his next student. Hotaru tried to take his words to heart. But the evidence was all around her. Her eyes locked on the newest student in the class. Valeri Brugarov was a Russian youth of sixteen who had been accepted into the school after his schools in Russia had proven unable to fully help him. The boy had been in the school a month and he was already in control of his power. Valeri had the ability to see events in other places or items concealed from sight. Watching him take a deck of cards and accurately predict the face of the card before turning it over, all fifty-two cards in just thirty seconds was amazing. He'd just been here a month. How long had she been there?

How she envied him.

"Mister Valeri-Sir is very pretty, isn't he?" Palla-Palla whispered in Hotaru's ear.

Like a wraith, she had taken a seat next to Hotaru without even being noticed. It was one of her more annoying talents.

"Oh," Palla-Palla said with some disappointment. "Miss Hotaru Ma'am isn't thinking of him like that."

Picking out intimate thoughts was another one.

"Palla-Palla is thinking of him like that," the girl said conspiratorially. Hotaru looked at her, for this was the first time Palla-Palla had ever expressed any interest in boys, even though she was nearly eighteen. "Palla-Palla thinks he's very pretty." She grinned sheepishly. "Palla-Palla wonders what it would be like to kiss him."

Hotaru didn't know how to respond. Suddenly Palla-Palla's eyes grew to saucers.

"Oh, but please don't tell Ves-Ves!" Palla-Palla exclaimed. "She'll be mad!"

"OK, Palla-Palla," Hotaru smiled. "I won't say anything. Are you going to ask him out?"

"No," the girl responded, mystified by the question. "Palla-Palla wants him to stay inside with her."

And again Hotaru found herself at a loss for words.

"Maybe Miss Hotaru-Ma'am should go kiss her boyfriend," Palla-Palla said, placing her hand over Hotaru's earnestly. "You can't find your center because you're missing him."

"Maybe I'm just not good enough," Hotaru mumbled.

"No, it's because you miss your boyfriend," Palla-Palla replied with the assurance of the innocent. "Miss Hotaru-Ma'am is so good enough. Palla-Palla knows Miss Hotaru-Ma'am is a lot better than she is. She knows you're almost as good as The Princess or The Queen. Go kiss your boyfriend and you'll find out."

"Did you read that in somebody's mind?" Hotaru asked.

When Palla-Palla didn't respond, she glanced at the girl. Palla-Palla was staring dreamily at Valeri Brugarov again. Hotaru gave the boy a critical look. He was very slim and handsome. But he wasn't her type. Yutaka was her type. And if their schedules could ever match up, taking Palla-Palla's advice would be very easy. Oh, what they would do if their schedules matched up. Hotaru's mouth began to curl while her eyelids drooped half way over her eyes.

If their schedules could ever match up.

A loud noise dragged Hotaru from her thoughts. The lead weight had impacted with the table. But to do that, it had to have been suspended over the table.

"Yes, Miss Hotaru-Ma'am," grinned Palla-Palla. "You lifted it. And all because you were kissing your boyfriend in your head. Just think what you could do if you kissed him for real!"

Hotaru's cheeks colored and she shrank into herself. Everyone in the class was staring at her, including Valeri Brugarov.

In another part of Crystal Tokyo, Cere tapped in the code that unlocked the door to the studio of famous artist and steady love interest Hiroki Kuroda. Since they had taken up with each other, Cere had the pass code for his studio and a standing invitation to come at any time. And she was feeling a desire for the company of the scruffy, reed-thin, intense genius right at that moment. That was until she caught sight of what was in the room.

A woman Cere had never seen before was sitting in a chair in the studio. She was young, barely twenty, with long silky black hair and sloping hooded green eyes and the cheekbones and chin that gave her face a feline look. While Kuroda worked furiously at an easel, the woman held an orange in her hand and feigned contemplating it, while a bowl of fruit sat on a table next to her. One shapely leg was extended from her while the other bent inward under the chair. Her other hand rested in her lap. A light source illuminated her right side.

And she was utterly naked.

Now artists painted nudes all the time. And Hiroki was such a fabulous artist that it made the term "artist" seem inadequate in describing him. It was just that he hadn't mentioned doing any nudes to her. And the thought of the man she had a relationship with - - she thought - - focusing his intense gaze on the naked body of another woman caused the hair on the back of Cere's neck to rise in irritation. The unidentified model glanced at the noise from the door and spotted Cere. And she spotted the look of surprise and outrage on Cere's face. The hand with the orange dropped to her lap.

"Don't move," Hiroki said brusquely.

"What the Hell is going on here?" Cere gasped.

"Hello, Cere," Hiroki frowned, trying to divide his attention between speaking and his painting. "Could you come back another time? I'm a little busy right now." And he kept his focus on his canvas.

"Doing what?" Cere barked.

"At the moment," Hiroki replied, struggling to keep his creative concentration, "I am trying to paint this model. I thought that was obvious."

"Is that all?" she said icily.

"Hey, I resent that!" the model spoke up.

"Don't move!" Hiroki said irritably. "Could you have this tantrum another time? You're disrupting the moment."

Cere's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah? Catch!" she said, plucking an apple from the bowl and flinging it at him. Hiroki looked up just in time to catch it. She was stalking off toward the front door while the shocked model looked on.

"Splendid!" Hiroki scowled. "You really destroyed the mood! Go ahead and get dressed, Keiko. I'll call you if I need you again."

"I destroyed THE MOOD?" Cere yelled from the other room. "Mood for what? If you wanted to paint a nude woman, all you had to do was ask me! I don't have any problem with people looking at me!"

"I didn't want to paint you," Hiroki answered firmly.

"Why not?" demanded Cere. "You've never had a problem painting me before! Am I suddenly hideous?" The model, Keiko, hurried past Cere and quickly exited.

"Those other times were different!" Hiroki replied, passions flaring in his eyes.

"How?" Cere fumed. "Because you hadn't met little Keiko yet?"

"I can't believe you're jealous of her!" Hiroki snapped with judgmental indignation..

"Why would I be jealous? Because I walk in and the man I THOUGHT I had a relationship with is ogling a naked woman, one he also conspicuously didn't bother to tell me about?"

"I was not ogling her! I was painting her!" Hiroki growled.

"Well next time paint a basket of fruit!" Cere snapped. "If you're nicer to it than you are to me, maybe IT'LL let you SCREW IT!"

The door hissed closed behind her as Cere stormed into the hall. She was down in the garage and opening the door of her hovercar before she stopped, other emotions overwhelming the anger she felt. Cere felt tears welling in her eyes. She put a shaky hand to her mouth.

Maybe it had been innocent. Cere didn't care. All she knew was the thought of Hiroki with another woman was more than she could bear. Hiroki was a drug for her, an aphrodisiac that she didn't want to share with anyone, particularly with naked little felines named Keiko. But the thought of losing him terrified her. And at that moment, Cere wondered if this fight could make that fear come true?

Provided she hadn't already lost him.

"Isn't it just a beautiful day, Ami?" Makoto sighed. She and Ami were strolling down the Promenade looking for a restaurant that would satisfy her hyper-critical standards and Ami's nutritional requirements.

"Very aesthetically pleasing," Ami nodded. "And an excellent way for the body to generate vitamin D3."

"Boy, I can always count on you to see the romantic side of everything," Makoto smirked.

"A healthy mind and a healthy body is very stimulating," Ami replied with just as big a smirk, unwilling to be baited by her companion. As they walked, she pointed to a restaurant. "How about this one?"

Makoto wrinkled her nose. "I think we can do better. They put too much tarragon in their broth. And they under cook their asparagus. And last time there was a water spot on the water glass."

Ami sighed. "Minako was right."

"What?" Makoto asked.

"Never dine with a chef," Ami needled.

"Well if you're going to take advice from Blondie," Makoto shot back playfully, "I'm going to deduct thirty points from your IQ. I thought you knew better." Makoto exhaled. "If you want to eat there . . ."

"No, it's all right," Ami assured her. "I doubt you'd enjoy yourself." They came to another place, this one advertising Bolivian cuisine. "I don't think we've tried this one. And Bolivian cuisine is very trendy these days in Crystal Tokyo."

"I'll give it a shot," Makoto shrugged. "Hopefully it's authentic Bolivian and not some Japanese knock off. So few residents have actually been to Bolivia that they can't tell the real stuff from the local approximation."

"Is it terribly spicy?" Ami asked. "Too much spice can have a negative impact on the digestive . . ."

Ami never finished. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the world exploded around her and Makoto. Makoto found herself lifted up and flipped around, like something hard had impacted with her at a high rate of speed. Her mind spun with the vertigo of trying to calibrate her senses and land gracefully. Then she met the pavement and her body flooded with pain. Moments stopped and started, their passage fragmented and jumbled. Makoto commanded her eyes to open. For a moment they wouldn't obey. Finally they did.

About five feet from her, a figure was standing over Ami. The figure was all in black, the sunlight vaguely highlighting the outline of a woman. Makoto couldn't tell if she was covered head to toe in a black form-fitting zentai or if her skin was actually pitch black. The woman was tall, lanky, but her form whispered of speed and power. Struggling with her consciousness, Makoto tried to figure out what the stranger was doing to Ami.

Then she saw. The strange woman had her hands around Ami's throat and was choking the life out of her.

"J-Jupiter," Makoto struggled to say, her henshin stick materializing in her hand, "Millennium Power Make Up!"

The transformation only took a moment. But in that moment, the assailant in black released Ami's throat and turned to defend herself. Ami lay on the pavement, coughing and gasping for breath. Her glasses lay on the pavement in front of her, the frame bent and one lens split diagonally. There were several ugly bruises on Ami's face and neck.

"You've got one second to surrender," Sailor Jupiter snarled. Already electricity was crackling from the lightning rod in her tiara.

The strange assailant responded by cupping her right hand at her side. Jupiter noticed energy beginning to collect in the woman's palm, sizzling and popping loudly. It must have been what hit them before.

"Supreme Thunder!" Jupiter called out, throwing a bolt of lightning at the woman before she could launch her attack.

The woman leaped over the bolt with inhuman speed, her jump taking her toward Jupiter. The senshi's quick eyes noticed the energy ball was still sizzling in the woman's palm.

"Aurora Electrical Field!" Jupiter countered.

Her body became a living conductor, electricity dancing all over her skin and snapping at anything that came near it. The energy ball impacted with the shield and shook the area with a loud 'pop'. Thrown back by the force of the impact, Jupiter quickly righted herself. Her attacker was equally nimble. The woman crouched in a way that could allow her to attack or retreat as needed and kept her between Jupiter and Ami. Immediately Jupiter registered from the familiar self-defense moves and postures that this person was a trained tactical combatant.

"Jupiter!" Jupiter shouted, taking the fight to her adversary to keep her on the move. "Oak Evolution!"

Electrical bursts began popping around the woman in black, designed to weaken and confuse her. But rather than be confused, the woman spawned another force ball and launched it at Jupiter. The force ball skidded along the pavement, tearing up chunks of the sidewalk as it barreled toward the senshi. At the last moment, Jupiter struck it with a lightning bolt and the force exploded, throwing up dirt and paving material in all directions.

When the dust settled enough for Jupiter to see, she quickly relocated her quarry. The woman was ready to launch or flee as needed. This puzzled Jupiter. The explosion of debris would have been perfect cover for an attack. What was this woman's objective? Then each one was drawn to the sound of Ami groaning as she struggled to her knees.

"Look out, Ami!" Jupiter shouted as the woman in black shot towards her friend.

Ami barely had time to look up before a vicious backhand caught her flush across the jaw. The doctor was sent spinning to the pavement. She landed in a heap and didn't move.

"Rolling Thunderclap!" Jupiter roared, clapping her hands together in front of her.

A savage lightning bolt leaped from her palms even as a deafening clap of thunder rumbled down the Promenade, breaking windows and upsetting ornamental benches. The bolt's target narrowly managed to avoid the strike before being knocked to her hip by the tremor caused by the thunder. Scrambling to her feet even as Jupiter moved in, the strange woman retreated with astonishing speed. Jupiter wanted for a second to pursue. But she had to check on Ami first.

"Ames?" Jupiter inquired breathlessly. Her gloved hand tentatively reached out and touched Ami's head, stroking along the temple to the hair line. Through her glove, Jupiter felt something wet. When she examined it, the fingertips were red. Jupiter sucked in air, then brought up her senshi communicator. "MEDICAL EMERGENCY! PROMENADE SECTOR SEVEN-G! HURRY!"

Continued in Chapter 2