Did I seriously just write PGSM angst? Why, yes. Yes, I did. You guys have no idea how many rounds of editing this has been through, and yeah, there are probably still mistakes. I'm finally decently happy with it, though, so here, take it, before I change my mind! Warning for spoilers through the end of the series. I am, of course, not Takeuchi Naoko, nor am I with Toei Company, therefore I most certainly do not own PGSM. This story was written purely for personal enjoyment and generates no profit.


Makoto is the first one to ask. It's unsurprising, really, that it is she who chooses to broach the subject soonest. Minako is quite aware that Makoto is, next to Rei, the one with the most stakes in the question, and she has known for a long time that Makoto is the bravest of all of them and certainly the most foolish, so, when she stays behind with Minako after the others leave the restaurant, Minako reads the lines of tension in her body, sees the uneasiness in her eyes and cuts her off before she can get beyond "I've been wondering..."

Ami comes next, barely a week later, stuttering and unable to meet Minako's eyes, a medical journal clenched tightly in her hand and pure scientific curiosity in her heart. Usagi, too, asks, with such sudden enthusiasm and curiosity that Minako is convinced she's only just thought of the question. Although they all ask in different ways, in each of their eyes there is the same emotion, a mixture of curiosity and hope and, she knows, fear. And all of them have their reasons.

For my parents, says Makoto. I have to know...

You're the only person to ask, says Ami. So...

It wasn't the same for me as everyone else, says Usagi. But for you...

But always, no matter the reason, the question is the same.

"What is it like to die?"

xxx

Of course, she lies to all of them.

To Makoto, she says that she remembers awakening in some strange, ethereal place where she could feel nothing but happiness. No pain. No fear. Only an overwhelming sense of peace, of at-one-ment with the universe. It's the kindest sort of lie. To Ami, she simply says that she has not recovered those memories, and that lie is the easiest. To Usagi, she says that she closed her eyes like falling asleep and found herself surrounded by warm, white light. After that, she tells her, she does not remember anything at all. This time, it only needs to be a partial lie. Usagi, too, has touched death, though she has not embraced it. Usagi has come close to death. Usagi has not actually died.

And no, it's not the same.

So, she doesn't tell any of them the truth. She doesn't tell them that dying is nothing like falling asleep, but instead, that it is like simply falling, feeling herself going away and finding nothing with which to catch herself, no way to stop the descent. She doesn't tell them how the sudden wave of nausea caught her unawares, how she had dropped her bag and clutched at her head, only to have the world spin around her and throw her onto the ground. About watching the world above her swim and blur, about hearing the voices of the crowd around her like she was underwater, finding herself unable to speak, unable to breath, unable to think. She doesn't tell them that she wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to live and could only lie there, staring into the sky as it melted and fell away. She doesn't say that she knew what was happening, that she was afraid. That she never closed her eyes.

She doesn't tell them that it hurt.

Secrecy has always been her special brand of mercy.

xxx

And yet, if Rei comes to her with that look in her eyes, Minako thinks she might not be able to keep the truth from her. There are times, shameful, pitiful times, when she thinks she would tell Rei all of her secrets, every fear and dream and nightmare inside of her, if the other girl were only to ask her to.

Of course, Rei never asks.

It's not that she hasn't thought of it, Minako is sure. Probably, Rei made the connection before any of them. It is not that she is less brave, either, or less curious. Minako thinks that, maybe, it's because she's the wisest. Maybe she knows, as Minako knows, how unwanted the true answers to these types of questions are. Or perhaps it's simply that, of all of them, she is the only one who truly knows Minako. Perhaps Rei can read the answer in her eyes and does not need (or want) the answer from her mouth. Or maybe, just maybe, she really doesn't care.

It's always so hard to tell with Rei.

With most people, Minako knows exactly what they are thinking, what they are feeling, where their loyalties lie. What they want. With Rei, it is never quite clear. She's not like other people, and for that, Minako is almost glad. After all, if she could tell what it was, Minako isn't sure that she wouldn't give Rei exactly what she wants.

And whatever it is, Minako is somehow sure that it's something she can't afford.

xxx

"Do you think you were in heaven?" asks Makoto quietly, one day when they are waiting for the other girls outside of The Crown.

"Mmm," Minako intones, letting the other girl take the sound as she will.

"I see. Then... do you think that everyone ends up in that place?" Makoto asks.

And Minako knows that she is really asking: "Do you think my parents ended up in that place?"

"They probably do," says Minako and feels only slightly bad about giving Makoto false hope.

After all, it is kinder to let her believe the falsehood than have her know that, probably, her parents are nowhere at all. Minako doesn't actually know if she ceased to exist after she died. She doesn't remember anything after those last painful moments. But of one thing, she is absolutely sure.

If she was anywhere, it certainly wasn't heaven.

Later, when Ami asks her in a hushed voice if she has remembered anything lately, Minako furrows her brow and replies that she only remembers leaving for her appointment, nothing else. It's very strange, she says, but, of course, this kind of magic would be tricky. Ami nods solemnly and doesn't contradict her. She wouldn't. For all of her brains and books, Ami has never really understood a thing about magic.

Usagi does not bring up the subject again. Her questions have all been answered, after all, and she has no reason to worry. Her loved ones are all alive and well, and Usagi herself has fooled death at least twice, now. Minako isn't sure any of them believe Usagi will ever truly die. So, Usagi merely beams at her as she sings one of Minako's newest songs horribly off-key and doesn't think a thing about death. Minako is happy for her and not a little jealous. It seems that the only thing she has been able to think about lately is the fact that, someday, she will have to do it all over again. Knowing that she will have to die again, a second time, she isn't sure she can handle the wait.

Seeming to sense her mood, Rei leans over and plucks a piece of candy out of Minako's bag, smiling mischievously. Minako laughs and shoves her playfully, while Usagi complains good-naturedly that no one ever listens to her sing the whole song. When the scuffle has ended, they sit back to listen to Makoto sing some silly ballad about lost love, and Minako can feel Rei's eyes on her, poking and prodding, analyzing. Trying to read her. Minako picks up another piece of the candy and tosses it at her, smiling slightly and hoping that another playful food fight will be enough of a distraction to give herself respite for a while.

Rei catches the candy and pops it into her mouth, raising an eyebrow as if to say "Nice try."

Minako wonders if she means the throw or the distraction.

She leans back against wall and watches from the outside as Ami beams fondly at them, her knitting needles clicking away and Usagi grins and claps as Makoto finishes the chorus of her song with a line about finally meeting again in the afterlife, smiling to herself.

It is a very good thing, she thinks, that they never tell each other the truly important things in their hearts. If they were all on the same page for once, she thinks that none of them would be as happy as they are. She isn't sure why that thought makes her so uncomfortable and doesn't really want to dwell on it. Instead, she leans forward to grasp her drink and rolls her shoulders to shake of the heavy feeling of Rei's steady gaze.

She doesn't look at Rei.

xxx

"When you died, this whole sidewalk was filled with flowers," says Artemis, as they walk away from her house together.

"Oh?" asks Minako and doesn't look at him or the sidewalk.

"Yes," he says. "There were people all in the streets, crying and singing your songs. It was very moving."

Minako thinks that she is the one who supposed to feel moved, now, and can't imagine why Artemis wants to see her that way.

"You've been so distant lately," Artemis says, after a moment, as if in answer to her unspoken question. "Kind of like you were when you thought there was no hope. When you knew you were going to die."

"Of course I'm distant," Minako wants to say. "There is no hope. I know I'm going to die.

"I don't want to die again."

But she doesn't want to frighten him. Instead, she merely murmurs some excuse about her new single and the pressures of stardom and hopes that he is satisfied with that, at least for a while. And he nods and says nothing more, even though she knows he doesn't believe her. She wonders when they will all stop lying to each other. And even as she wonders, she knows that it can never stop with her. She's been lying for so long that she's starting to forget how to tell the truth.

xxx

"You know," Rei says one day, when they have a second alone. "There was something I always wanted to do with you before, and we never got to."

"Oh?" Minako asks. "What was that?"

Rei grins at her, suddenly, and takes her hand.

"Come on, I'll show you."

Minako tries to protest that the others will be back in a moment, that they will be upset at being abandoned, but Rei only rolls her eyes and replies that Usagi, at least, has no business to complain and that they'll all assume Rei and Minako have gone to do something important, anyway.

"They couldn't imagine us having any fun without them," Rei says as she flags down a cab, still gripping Minako's wrist.

Minako isn't sure she can, either, but this is the Rei who laughed along with her on the floor of a game show set, not the girl who confronted her afterwards with fire in her eyes and stone in her voice (not Mars), so she isn't going to argue. She hardly knows this girl, after all.

"All right," she says, sliding into the cab after Rei of her own accord. "Show me this thing you've always wanted to do."

Trusting Mars was easier than trusting Rei is, and trusting this version of Rei may be impossible. Still, Minako thinks that there is more hope here than back with the others, still so hopelessly entangled in her lies. And somehow, without quite understanding why, she thinks that any version of Rei may bring salvation.

xxx

How strange to think that, of all of them, she is the only one who truly remembers the past life. Usagi remembers some things, obviously. Usagi remembers Endymion. She remembers the times they spent together. She remembers the very end.

But Usagi doesn't remember like Minako remembers. She doesn't remember fighting together, laughing together. She doesn't remember the time they celebrated Usagi's sixteenth birthday with a ball and too much wine. She doesn't remember Queen Serenity, her own mother, advising them all with her wise, old eyes. She doesn't remember the oaths the senshi all swore to protect her, the ceremony in which they vowed to follow their princess into the next life, if required. She doesn't remember watching her world die.

None of the other girls remember these things.

Perhaps, though, Endymion (no, Mamoru) remembers as much as Minako herself does. Clearly, he remembers more than Usagi herself. She'll never know just how much of the past life he really recalls, in all likelihood. They haven't ever really spoken. In fact, every time they are in the same room, neither of them can seem to meet the other's eyes. This is how she knows that his memories have endured. She can feel his guilty conscience radiating from him in waves.

Good. He should feel guilty. She doesn't feel sorry for feeling so harshly toward him. Even if they have stopped it all from happening in this lifetime, the tragedy still happened in the time before. That cannot be erased, and he was the one who caused it all. And she still remembers.

She is still Venus. She is still the one who fought on as Mercury fell with Serenity's name on her lips, as Jupiter charged into the masses in a last act of desperation and was overtaken, as Mars gasped for breath in her arms. Venus, who held Mars' limp hand in her own weakening grasp, watched the world be overtaken by darkness, and knew that their sacrifices had been for nothing.

And hadn't it all been for nothing?

What have they gained, in the end? A second chance to die, and a chance to watch Usagi fall in madly in love once again. A chance to watch Usagi have a happy ending. Is it selfish to wish that she, too, could be so unmarred by the past life?

Yet, on her better days, when she is singing one of her songs or laughing with Rei, she thinks that maybe they have actually gained a second chance to live.

She doesn't even know how to do that anymore.

xxx

It may have been love, Minako thinks, as she watches Rei stare pensively out of the cab window.

She recalls things from the past life that have nothing to do with the tragedy or with Serenity. She remembers sitting across the table from her second in command, listening to the other girl's words and thinking that, without the pairing of Mars' passion with her own leadership, none of their plans would work at all. She remembers that party, where Endymion and Serenity had met and not knowing anything about that at all, because she had spent the entire night in the gardens with Mars, just sitting in companionable silence. She remembers sunny days before the turmoil, when the two of them had laughed and twirled around the ballroom in silly imitations of the courtesans they protected, remembers the gleam in Mars' eyes when she had a particularly mischievous idea or came up with a particularly devious battle strategy. She remembers the feel of Mars' palms on her shoulders, the feel of her warm gaze on Minako's body, and thinks, yes.

It may have been love.

"I've been wondering," says Rei, turning to look at her. "Do you still remember all of the past life?"

"Most of it," Minako tells her, truthfully. "Why?"

"Well, lately I've been thinking about that. About how much of it carries over into this time. After all, even if it didn't have the same ending, there must be more that is the same than simply Usagi and Mamoru's relationship. I mean, are we the same?"

"Mostly," says Minako. "I think that we are only really changed by the differences in our experiences in this life."

"Or by the things we remember from the last," says Rei, and not for the first time, Minako feel as if Rei is reading her mind.

"Or by our memories of the last," she echoes, nodding. "I am more like I was in the past life than any of you."

Rei is silent for a moment, and Minako watches the blurs of traffic rushing around them so that she won't have to look at her. Sometimes it is so easy to forget that Rei and Mars are different in this way, that they cannot be that way with each other. That they are not that close, and that, maybe, they never will be.

"I think," Rei says finally. "It may be that it is only our souls and their connections to each other that truly remain the same. Perhaps that is why Usagi and Mamoru are still in love. A connection like that, between souls, cannot be changed. "

Minako gives in and looks into her face, finally, seeing the ageless face of Mars and nights under the sphere of the earth and eyes that can look into her soul.

"Perhaps," she says quietly and turns away again, hoping the other girl will probe no deeper.

It may be love.

xxx

"My mother used to take me here all of the time when I was young," Rei says, as they sit together on the bench by the amusement park's lake. "We would bring bread for the ducks. "

She breaks off a few pieces of her recently purchased crepe and then offers it to Minako for her to do the same.

"I doubt they'll know the difference," she says and tossed a piece onto the bank of the lake.

Minako follows suit, and they sit in silence, watching the waterfowl gathering to fight over the scraps. Rei smiles fondly, her eyes misted by some distant memory, and Minako feels anticipation grip her heart as her stomach lurches sickeningly. So that's what this is about. The time has finally come for Rei to ask her that dreaded question. She'll want to know, for the sake of her mother, and Minako knows she will not be able to refuse her. She should have expected it, but it was so easy to believe that they were simply...

'Ridiculous,' she thinks. 'And still I—'

'I had such hope.'

"Ami tells me that you do not remember dying," Rei says, staring out at the lake, her expression impassive. "Makoto tells me that you were in heaven. Usagi tells me you were at peace."

Minako nods, her heart filled with dread.

"You want to know which is the truth," she says, and it is not a question.

She prepares herself to recount her story, to strip herself bare, to break Rei's heart and trample on her hopes, all for the sake of truth and thinks that, after all she has been through, this may actually break her heart.

"No," says Rei. "I don't want to know."

Minako stares at her, unable to hide her surprise.

"What?"

"I've always felt that, where we come from or where we are going, those things don't really matter so much as what we're doing. So, I don't much care to hear about the realities of death or the past life."

She glances at Minako and smiles slightly.

"The past can stay in the past, and the future can stay there, as well. What I want is to live now, while I have the chance."

Minako almost cries with relief and with some other emotion that clutches at her breast and drives the breath from her body.

"Me, too," she says, quietly. "I want to live. Only I..."

"Only what? What's stopping you?" asks Rei, and she gets up from the bench and offers Minako her hand. "The mission is done. There's nothing to do now except move forward."

"I don't know how," says Minako, feeling ridiculous.

Rei laughs, and it's the same laugh it has always been and sounds as sweet.

"You just start," she says, and draws Minako to her feet. "And don't worry. I had to be instructed a bit, as well. We're not all naturals like Usagi."

And yet, Minako thinks, they share this with Usagi. This bond, forged in the time beyond memory, and surely the senshi of Venus should be able to recognize love when she feels it. She is quite sure now, as her vision clears, that it feels like a warm palm in her own, like a hint of laughter left on the wind, like the flutter of dark eyelashes and the flutter of her own pulse.

"Come on," says Rei, her smile edged by the sincerity with which she does all things, by the flames that Minako can still sense within her heart. "I want to actually go on the rollercoaster, this time."

It feels like this.