EVEN FLOW

R E V E R S I O N E D

A BISHOJO SENSHI SAILOR MOON Fan Fiction

By Nicholas Clark / Warriorsong

Comprising the original fan fictions Foolish Heart, and The Pain Of Doubt, with Even Flow Prologue A - Tranquillity Bending, and Prologue B - Five Months Later And Then Some

0. THE PRELUDES

Foolish Heart

"Sleeping with an empty bottle, he's a sad and an empty hearted man

All he needs is a job, and a little respect

So he can get out while he can

You always need to hear both sides of the story"

Phil Collins - "Both Sides Of The Story" - Both Sides

-------

"How could I?" he thought. Over and over again, a mantra, his heartbeat, the singular drum to its call.

He just sat there, shrouded by a darkness he felt from within and without. He was afraid to sleep. It's was all so...

What? What was it?

His anger was building again. Too fucking bad. Everything was already smashed. The glass-topped coffee table hadn't meant to be thrown across the room like that; or at all seemingly from the way it had exploded. It had seemed like a good idea to him at the time but in retrospect... ideas. Ideas; always the ideas, leading to thoughts and feelings, only causing pain.

He needed an out.

He had to get out of there. It still smelt like her. The sweet scent of moonlight on the dew; pure, without artificial equal. Her shampoo; her perfume, her clothes, her. Her. Cloying, driving him insane.

A door slammed.

It was pissing down with rain; sheets of elemental purification blasting the dirt from the streets but not from his heart. "Fitting no?" his thoughts tormented him, a cascade of water matching his pain and anguish. His loss. The sky crying for the one who no longer could.

It was like the sky was mocking him - mirroring his crying soul, while his eyes where dry. A cruel joke being played upon some dapper chess pawn dressed for a formal dinner, cape, cane and hat, rakish to one side.

The rain should have been trying to cool his temper. It normally did, but tonight it simply wasn't working. It inflamed him all the more. Boiled his soul.

So he ran.

-------

It was no good. Even with the running, he couldn't leave the guilt and pain over what he had done behind. They clutched to him like starving beggars, feeding off him in his misery. Taking to the rooftops, alighting on fire escapes didn't help either; he couldn't fly away from this. His thoughts were consumed with her visage, sweet, and by his torment, bitter.

His coat tails soaked, he stood upon the parapet of an old brownstone, the steaming city with its rain hazed face below him, its streets like chasms of darkness. Boiling raging torment. It would have been so easy to just let his control go, fall, embrace the darkness below and forget the fight with that within.

He knew, however that his book wasn't written that way. He had chapters still to travel and he was pretty sure it wouldn't work either, by his just slamming the cover shut. Be nice to try it though.

The dark figure fell to his knees. The stinging rain mingled with his salty tears. Crisp and tart mixed on his lips as his shoulders slumped, his body heaving in the cold and with his heart wrenched sobs.

The sky seemed to have given him a gift but he didn't notice, its tears giving vent to his own.

-------

It was daylight. God's knew what day it was. He sure as hell didn't. What had woken him up? Knocking? Yes that was it, a steady staccato, like the drumming in his ears, and with a better chance of going away if he ignored it.

"Morning Mamoru", said a voice from the hall.

He managed to fall off the couch and stand, slipping on a collection of bottles and tumbling onto the floor. Where was coffee table?

His fogged brain processed its shattered remains sitting over against the wall. And in the kitchen, and over by the bathroom.

Redness. Crimson pain that he could deal with; more tangible than the other kind - and fleeting. Ebbing like the tide of his heart. Glass cutting his palm. The invading figure, Motoki, he now realizes, helps him up.

"Mamoru, you're a mess," concern evident in the voice, "What happened?"

He knew what his friend wanted. He just wanted his side of the story, hoping what he heard was wrong, garbled or at least that there was some underlying reasoning.

"You already know," the haggard figure cracked at him, breaking into a cough, his mouth feeling like a vacuum cleaner has been emptied inside it.

"Yeah," Motoki replied, "but what I want to know is why. Why now, after all the effort and soul searching. After finding someone to lo..."

"I don't love her," the crippled figure interjected his voice raspy yet harsh, an edge buried.

The guest in the shattered living room backed away, his hands moving from where they had been hovering over the man's shoulders, about to offer comfort. His fists and shoulders tensed. "That's crap and you know it. I know because I know you and I know how she made you feel."

"Feel," the figure stumbled to its feet, staggering, reality churning like a roundabout, his finger pointed crookedly at the guest, "you don't know shit about how I feel, fuck feelings! All they get you is hurt and alone! Well fuck that and fuck you!" The figure stood straighter, belligerent, "Fuck her as well!"

The ground caught him as he fell backwards, the sting on his chin the only indicator anything had happened. The guest stood over him, menace quickly giving way to pity and sorrow. His intruding friend's eyes were so deep and said so much. They questioned him, implored for a reason, begged for the answers. And beneath was a will that loyalty and trust couldn't deny. Tears broke from the young man's eyes, as pain and sickness crept through his prone body. He wanted to shut them out, drown them under in the silence, but those eyes. The eyes of a friend.

"I'm too old for her"

"Try another one," Motoki said softly, his knees bent as he crouched beside the slowly curling figure.

A sob choked the man and bile rose in his throat. Pushing aside the feelings, the situation struck him. Rocking onto his backside, legs spread in front; the figure slowly looked at his left hand, red with blood and red with pain. "I'm bleeding..." he mumbled.

Motoki's eyes hardened, Mamoru was either skirting the subject or was still off in his own little world. "Self-inflicted and by rights about what you deserve from all accounts."

The figure's head snapped up at the tone, clarions of tension dully ringing as he lashed out with fresh anger, louder than he should have, at a man who was his best and possibly only friend. "I'm bleeding here Motoki; throw me a towel or something, damnit!"

Motoki rose and mumbled, turning to disappear down the small hallway and into the kitchenette. He returned, hurling a tea-towel towards the man. It fell unnoticed as the figure on the floor stared at the dark blood seeping from his hands. Motoki sighed and knelt before his friend, taking up the towel and swaddling it around the cut hand.

"The fact that you are bleeding, well, that's a given considering all the glass lying about," he retorted. The sarcasm was over Mamoru's head at present, but was helping Motoki to regain his composure. He understood his friend's need to vent the frustration, but why was his friend so distraught over a girl he said he didn't love. Sensing his friend's foggy lapse from his enraged awakening, he dived straight in. Mamoru was stubborn and often the only way to bring his head back on track was to pole-axe the situation. Hardly tactful, but effective.

"She came into work a couple of days ago, and she was, hell, is a mess. You've broken her heart. Why? And don't give me that shit about age and not loving her or any other half-arsed excuse. I've known you too long for you to try and lie to me."

The haunting came back, the dark dreams, echoes of night, warning that he would effectively kill her should he speak of it. And it hurt to force the words out of his mouth, to respond. "Leave me alone, damnit". A breathy hiss, yet Motoki heard it. He stood up and looked down at his friend, his composure slipping slightly.

"Christ Mamoru, get a clue. It's ripping you up the same, if not more than her. Why?"

"GO!" Mamoru screamed, tears eroding the dirt built up on his cheeks, his hands flying in mad gesticulation, droplets of blood spattering across the floor.

Dirt? From where? Where had he been to get dirty?

Motoki looked at Mamoru, his gaze veiled, whatever emotion behind blocked from view. Finally, a decision reached, Motoki spoke, "Okay man, but sober up - you reek of booze. I start work at six o'clock tonight. If you wanna talk I'll be at home until then."

Motoki stood slowly and turned with a slight frown, silently leaving Mamoru's apartment. He had never seen his friend in a state such as this. He was worried. And confused. Admittedly Mamoru was very private, but this was a little too much. He knew his best friend was hurting. Bad. But when Mamoru needed to talk, he would. Motoki just hoped it would be a matter of sooner rather than later. This self destructive leaning was… Motoki cut the thought midway as he closed the door behind him.

-------

Mamoru looked about his apartment, in all its chaotic glory. He was a bit confused, about several points. First up, he had a screaming headache, second, a very dry throat and third, a cut hand.

Those were a purely physical concern. Sensory, it was simply added too. There were empty and half-empty bottles and cigarette butts all over where his coffee table used to live. He didn't smoke cigarettes, didn't know anyone who did. Yet in his clouded brain they added up slowly. It would explain things though. Bottles were...

"Shit." Rationalization came slowly to his fogged mind. The effort of speech crystallized his thoughts outside the maelstrom that his head seemed content to stay in. "Okay clearly now," he mumbled, "headache, throat, cut. Bottles, cigarettes, glass. Bottle's made of glass."

Okay that made a detached sort of sense. The rest washed over him as quickly, the gritty feeling all over his body, the sharp stubble on his cheeks and the stale odour normally associated with alleyways and train stations.

His recent conversation with Motoki filtered back through his head. Mamoru turned and stumbled towards the bathroom, harshly pulling the stained and torn white shirt with his good hand.

-------

It was thirty minutes later. Mamoru had pulled himself out of the shower; the hot beads of water and the caress of steam had failed on the broader scope, but only because his head still hurt. Clad in a thick blue towel, tightly wrapped around his waist, he navigated his way through the living room and hallway to stand in his kitchen before the refrigerator. The door opened slowly.

Empty, save for some mayonnaise and a half dozen aluminium cans of some indeterminate liquor.

Deep inside he was contemplating a 'hair of the dog remedy' but his stomach had already protested against such a theory several times while he was in the bathroom.

Groaning with discomfort he started his trek back to the bathroom and his bedroom beyond.

-------

It was now mid-afternoon. Mamoru's hand had stopped bleeding after being wrapped in the tea-towel; his advanced metabolism quickly knitting deep flesh, with only an angry cut remaining, hidden now under a crisp white bandage. Every time he moved his fingers, the subtle tearing of flesh reminded him of its presence. Somewhat pleasurably were he to admit it, in a sick sort of justification. Although he wasn't it any state to admit anything, to himself or anyone else. And so, freshly bandaged and coming to grips with the facts, and being still slightly drunk, Mamoru wandered aimlessly through the streets of Juuban.

His eyes cast downward, feet shuffling, Mamoru walked. And with every step, the feelings cried louder as they broke through the surface of his shield; breathing his pain.

And he walked.

The sun had begun to set. Mamoru raised his eyes to see the park where he would bring Chibi-Usa to play. A child he had no ties to by blood or family, yet strangely, one he found comfort with, felt a need to protect. The same way he felt, had felt... for her.

He had pushed her on those swings, joyous fun, with him, Chibi-Usa and her.

He was sober suddenly, the clarity of thought returning dimly. It was then that everything made sense. The alcohol had a purpose. It dulled the dreams. Buffered the pain. Shielded his heart.

-------

Empty. Bliss. The moment confined. Sense's alive, no past, no future, just the now, heightened, like me, and no pain no regret, just the now. Being, alone, in a state of mind, free, alone, skirting reality like as esper, watching the within, being the without. No pain, free, glorious freedom from the pain of present, past and then. Me, just me; alone. Unafraid, indomitable, unsanctioned and restraint gone. Me, real no falsity, no mask no concealing in the view of others, freedom of thought, running across fields of dreams, being as I should be, unfettered, angry, unashamed to show the emotion, pain, loneliness and greed, lust wanting and fears. Me, as is, as should be, solid, but not, ethereal, not lasting, a sense of impending reality, fear, not wanting pain, and it comes, like a hurricane and an avalanche, crushing the me in its wake. Death to me, as I am hidden behind the false, again, saddening, pain, make it stop, drink from the cup.

-------

Motoki was quietly sweeping the aisles of the Crown Game Centre. His evening had been quiet, most of the patrons going home early for dinner and homework, while several older students had stayed until he had closed up. While the gamers had been steady until sundown, it was then that the heavens opened, drowning the streets with it cleansing tears.

Mamoru hadn't called. Not at home earlier, or when he had rung Reika to ask if their friend had called the apartment. The machines gleamed like multi-faceted jewels, but the usual satisfaction of a day's work done was absent.

Motoki was worried. The girl's had been in earlier, two on either side of the centre figure, who usually so bright and cheery, had a face matching the sullen skies. The other girls had hidden their feelings better. Rei, in her imperious manner had questioned Motoki, who could say nothing to assay any fears. This had just seemed to make the priestess more annoyed. Motoki could only stare at the blonde girl with the pale tear-streaked face. He knew Mamoru's heart beat only for her, but couldn't speak for his friend. Because, he couldn't betray his trust; or in truth understand why his friend was destroying them both so intently.

In some situations, even ice cream is a dull substitute for a resolution.

-------

Mamoru stumbled through the alleyway, the half-consumed cigarette drooping from his lips. The blurring that the warm alcohol had on his senses was welcome. The stinging rain was only slightly irritating now. The cold was something there, but largely irrelevant in the grander scheme.

Mamoru stumbled into a recessed doorway and slumped over into a crouch.

The bottle of alcohol rolled gently from his outstretched hand and its contents gently trickled into the gutters to mix with the flotsam of the city.

He had begun to snore, curled over. Several minutes passed before he toppled.

-------

Motoki switched the security system onto its night-time mode and switched off the lights. Everything was ready for another day and he was ready for home. That is, after he dropped by his friend's apartment. Breathing out slowly, he flicked the latch on the door.

The door swung opened slightly and stood still, jammed.

Motoki muttered under his breath and rammed his shoulder against the door causing it to swear on its hinges and swing open fully after shoving its impediment into the gutter.

Motoki sighed. The back doorway's were the ideal night-time rest spots of the homeless and impoverished. The police monitored the situation feel enough and it was sad, but spoke volumes about the state of things. Normally Motoki would feel some compassion and call one of the shelters to come and get the individual, but today he had other things on his mind.

"Damn transient," he mumbled, nudging the prone form with his foot. "Hey buddy, move along, this ain't a hotel. Go to one of the shelters." The body didn't move and Motoki bent down and pushed the figure over.

The body rolled over to reveal the bruised face of Chiba Mamoru; eyes rolled back slightly and lips rumbling with a deep, drunken snore.

-------

Motoki banged on his apartment door; his blonde hair hanging into his eyes as he attempted to balance the inebriated form half against his side, half off his shoulder.

"Reika," he shouted, walking the line between being unheard and disturbing the neighbours. His fiancée' slowly opened the door, the thin chain catching the hall light. Shaking the sleep from her head and with queries on her lips, she closed the door and slid off the chain. She opened the door wide and the questions doubled as she saw her beloved holding their oldest friend, semi-comatose, in his arms.

"Oh no," she mumbled, tightening her robe over her jeans and t-shirt as she held the door to allow Motoki through.

Motoki navigated the passageway, passed through the living room and turned to the right, manhandling the stuporous Mamoru into the bathroom where he unceremoniously dumped him into the bathtub.

"What happened?" came Reika's gentle voice from behind Motoki. Her hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder where he soon moved his to clasp hers.

"I could only guess." he mumbled.

As Reika handed Motoki a blanket from the linen closet, he covered the unconscious Mamoru and checked his pulse.

"But he's going to have a real sore head." he continued on to no one in particular.

-------

Reika and Motoki sat at their breakfast table, drinking coffee; the remains of breakfast scattered tidily. Both looked worse for wear and dishevelled when slowly, a stubbled and bleary Mamoru plodded out of the bathroom, dressed in stained trousers.

"Good morning Mamoru," said Reika. Mamoru stopped, and looked at her vaguely before turning and stumbling back down the hallway.

"Not a morning person, our Mr. Chiba," muttered Motoki as he returned to his half-eaten toast.

-------

Preparing to try and make another break for it Mamoru opened the bathroom door to find Reika standing in front of him, carrying towels and clothing.

Wordless, she gave Mamoru a sombre smile and handed him the bundle.

"Point taken," thought Mamoru absently. Initially it had been a shock to find them in his apartment but upon returning to his bathroom and finding the blanket in the bathtub, his soiled clothing and fancy looking soaps, he had realised where he was. Maybe the showering could wash away the embarrassment.

Mamoru grabbed the blanket, damp with sweat and put it on the floor, scooping his other clothing into the thick woollen mass.

The showerhead coughed as the water started its downward flow.

-------

One hour later and feeling a damn sight better, Mamoru sat across from Motoki and Reika, eating heartily and onto his fourth cup of coffee. The breeze from the open ranch slider leading to the balcony seemed to refresh him as much as the food.

"So that's the story then?" said Motoki, confused as to what he had just heard as it directly came into conflict with the established Mamoru norm.

"Yes," said Mamoru, around the mouthful of eggs and sausage. Mentally he reflected on the omitted parts of his story, things he should know but couldn't grasp or maybe just didn't want to remember. Or wasn't ready too.

"Nightmares," said Reika.

"I can't deal with them anymore," Mamoru said, and he could feel his resolve cracking. "I can't sleep, I feel like I'm losing it and ... and."

Mamoru's eyes watered as he pushed himself away from the table and stepped onto the balcony. The view would have been spectacular on any other occasion.

The wind seemed to laugh at him, but dried the tears that spilled from his eyes.

Reika placed her hand upon his shoulder. "Mamoru".

"I love her so much, Reika," mumbled Mamoru, as Reika pulled his head to her shoulder.

Motoki stood watching from the kitchen. His heart reached out to his friend. He knew it would come, that release, the vent of emotion. He could feel his own cheeks moisten. He brushed the tear away, and contemplated whether to go to them or leave them be. Mamoru would be ready in his own time. Motoki turned his attention to the rest of his coffee and cleaning up.

-------

Later, the two men walked along the cold streets. The cherry blossoms fell yet the beauty was lost on Mamoru. Eventually beauty withered and disappeared, pretty much like everything else.

"So when did you find out?" Mamoru asked quietly.

"About a week ago," replied Motoki. "They came in. She was in tears." Motoki decided it prudent to relate the more animated aspects of that day for another occasion.

The image of his sweet princess crying brought Mamoru's pain to the surface. Her face could personify any emotion; almost make it a living being. Heartache did not suit her angelic features.

"I miss her", he mumbled.

"Get her back then," replied Motoki. He knew that this was the desired response even though it would be rejected. Just agreeing however, wouldn't have been appropriate for the solemnity.

"I can't." Mamoru's voice cracked.

"You might just lose here forever then," Motoki winced as he said this but it needed to be voiced before it got too late to fix things.

"If it will keep her alive..." followed but too low for the blonde man to hear.

-------

He sat in his apartment. It was dark again. He had realised he had been drinking solidly for several days. The pain had just snapped him inside like a cheap toy and he had lost valuable days in a stupor of alcohol induced haze. Day's he could have been trying to win her back or change what the dreams said.

He had had the dream again. It was a dark shrouded man, talking to him, telling him, reasoning with him. Endymion. That name rang out.

He knew that what he did was right, felt it to his very core. So why did it hurt so much?

He needed an out. He had to get away.

Before critical mass, his world crashed back. The telephone was ringing.

Slowly he walked to the dining room area, the phone suspended beside the bench top opening into the kitchen. "Hello, er," he muttered half heartedly into the mouthpiece.

It was his daughter, although he didn't know it then. But how else could one explain the feelings of protection and nurture he held for the child.

Now she was simply a smaller version of her.

"Mamo-chan, can, can I come stay with you." The voice was broken and ragged. "That stupid-head is driving me nuts." Surely the kid knew what was going on, was she deliberately trying to bait her cousin or was she just oblivious?

The man sighed quietly, so the child couldn't hear and took the most fateful step he could, "Sure Chibi-Usa, if you aunt and uncle agree, but please don't call your cousin that." Societal norms aside and despite the dreams, even a small reminder of her might strengthen his resolve.

Various noises of excitement echoed down the phone. Sadly the enthusiasm of the little girl wasn't infectious.

"Bye Mamo-chan". The pink haired child hung up and left the man standing with the receiver to his head, the dial-tone a thud in his ears.

She probably would be told no, it was inappropriate, unsuitable but nonetheless, for her to see him like that, how he was before and was aiming for again, and for his beloved, her, to hear of it, she'd blame herself, probably was already for this whole mess, when he was the bad guy. Never again. Never again would he.

Mamoru smashed the phone back to its cradle, the plastic cracking under the force. He bowed his head, the pain flooding back. But rather than hide, he rode the wave, tried to do his best. It didn't work.

Damnit Usako. She's so like you. So like you. I miss you so much.

-------

The Pain Of Doubt

Chapter One - Boys Night Out

"This is not a black and white world

To be alive I say that the colours must swirl

And I believe that maybe today

We will all get to appreciate"

Live - "The Beauty of Grey" - Mental Jewellery

-------

"I tell you Artemis, it's getting to the point where I don't know if I can take it anymore."

The dark haired form of Mamoru Chiba and the sleek white furred personage known as Artemis sat upon the chill park bench looking deep into the muddy sunset suspended before them.

"Well," replied Artemis, "I think you are just being childish." The cat managed to put upon a feline air of aloof authority, one that didn't seem to fit right. The man smiled wanly to himself.

"See, now you sound like Luna".

"Hey," screeched the white cat, coming to his feet, hackles raised in defiance, "Am not!"

"My point," said Mamoru, ignoring the outburst, which had made him feel somewhat validated, "is just that I feel like I'm not needed."

"She wouldn't like it, if she heard that." The 'she' in question didn't need naming. Only one 'she' existed to Mamoru.

"Don't get me wrong, Usako is my light, it's just, just..."

"You being pigheaded?" The cat glanced at him sidelong.

"Quiet cat!" The man growled only half joking. Artemis grinned. Very rarely was the unflappable Chiba Mamoru flapped. Artemis was surprised that he was slightly enjoying himself, even despite the unpleasant nature of the conversation.

"Okay," Mamoru continued, "do you like it when Luna ignores you or belittles you at meetings?"

"Not really but I don't see..." Which was a lie. Artemis could see exactly where this was going but the ground was shaky at best in that neighbourhood.

"Let me finish," interrupted Mamoru. "She is "mean" to you but you love her and she shows her affection away from the others."

While being a rhetorical question, Artemis still blushed, which is, in itself actually quite difficult for a cat to do; yet somehow he managed it. "Now Mamoru I don't know where you..."

"We know you both so well," responded the man, in reply to the cat's unfinished question, "but don't you wish you could stop the whole..."

"Mamoru just get to the point, I have an idea where you are heading". At this point Artemis was starting to become really uncomfortable. Had Luna said something? If not she would assume he had and it would be the dogbox for him; at least metaphorically speaking.

"I feel like I'm in her shadow," mumbled the darkened form of Mamoru. The sun had set and its light was slowing draining from the sky.

"No. That's not true, you raise their spirits and..."

"Say corny stuff whilst posing dramatically on architecture? She always saves my ass."

Artemis sweat dropped. There was a flair for the dramatic in the hero Tuxedo Kamen, but dressing up and going out in public entitled certain unconventional behaviour. That coupled with saving the world on a regular basis.

"Remember, way back at the start," whispered Mamoru, "I would swing in, spout some pseudo-babble, save the day, if required, and my beloved - and then leave after everything had been finished up with."

"Yeahhh" replied the cat quietly, not much liking this turn.

"I miss it. She saves me all the time now. I'm like some sort of male cheerleader."

"HGUh" said the cat. Leotards on the Senshi was one thing...

"You have the same problem; Luna takes an active role and sidelines you because she's afraid you'll botch it up."

Artemis looked under his brows at the disgruntled Chiba.

"I don't like the implication. Your point?" replied the cat acidly. He was aware he had a flippant attitude to supernatural menaces with megalomaniacal tendencies towards world domination, that's who he was. He did not, however, need one of his best friends pointing this out.

"I just don't know anymore Artemis," said Mamoru, rising slowly from the bench and scratching the white feline's chin.

Mamoru Chiba sauntered off into the darkness. His green jacket fading to match the black of his trousers and hair before disappearing into the gloom.

Artemis remained on the bench. It made a bizarre sort of sense. Not the exact phrasing Mamoru had given it, but the concept. Back in the day, when it was just himself and Sailor V, he was like a feline Charlie, she was his angel. Then, when Jadeite had began his campaign, he and Venus were relegated to the sidelines. Whilst she became the acting commander in Usagi's wake, he was left to a simply observational position, more so then Luna who maintained an active role in most situations. That could be expected considering her relationship to the Princess, despite the fact he was the better tactician. Yet whenever he made a valid comment or suggestion it was brushed aside as a nonsensical babbling and ignored. He felt like a little brother, tolerated and put up with but generally beyond notice.

Mamoru had always been active, albeit enigmatic, almost like the hero with no name, who comes in, says his line and disappears again, leaving everyone feeling better. But in the end he hadn't had what was required and had been subjected time and again to the mechanization of both their enemies and himself. First the Beryl / Metallia entity and then himself, both present and future. The list went on. Was his simple worry some sort of fear that he wouldn't come back one day, or that Usagi would go out in his place, trying to save him? He knew it wasn't glory Mamoru wanted, far from it; it came from somewhere else, this feeling, this upset

Artemis didn't know the way the human mind worked; it had been a while since he had one. Still, all too familiar feelings needed resolving.

He stretched from his taunt standing position and jumping from the bench disappeared into the undergrowth.

-------

"Am I selfish? Why can't I get this feeling out of my head? I love her so much but I resent her. Why? Why do I feel like I need to save her always? Is it because I can't stand the thought of losing her? Lose her to whom? Someone else? Or just losing her? Am I like some sort of Neanderthal, protecting her against everything? Could I wrap her in cotton wool and keep her warm in my breast pocket? A chauvinist, I am not. Is it some sort of guy thing? Like cars and stuff? Damn me to Hell. Damn me to the Negaverse. Am I jealous? Am I feeling less of a man because she has saved me like a dozen times from death? Can she ever forgive me if she knew I thought like this? Should I just push these feeling away to keep the hurt from her?

(Not like that would work, remember last time, and the dreams Mamoru...)

That's a point. Honesty. Trust. Love. So why do I feel like this? Do I really need to prove myself? Am I proving myself to me or to her? Am I really in her shadow?"

Mamoru's thoughts rushed through his head in a wave of syllables and half-strung sentences. The last time he had felt this bad he had taken a step he regretted to this day, trading off the abyss for his own reality. He had also promised himself never again.

The sombre looking man, his hair flat against his head in the light drizzle, turned from the window of the liquor store and continued down the hazy street.

His melancholic interior dialogue followed him all the way home.

-------

Artemis shared similar thoughts. He considered himself a sensitive new age cat. He didn't begrudge the girls their spotlight. He just felt a little bit underappreciated.

He hadn't before but he did now. Silently cursing Mamoru's incessant paranoia, he sat upon the large stone fence that ran the perimeter of the Juuban Park. The moon overhead was a perfect crescent.

-------

Urawa often thought about Ami. He loved her. Deeply. Yet she pushed him away. Was she scared? If she was - was it of him or for him? She always made last minute excuses and left him hanging. Why did she not just tell him? They shared most everything. He loved her. She loved him; she had almost said it countless times. He knew she loved him. It was so clouded, both his heart and their future.

Of course he knew she was Sailor Mercury, he just didn't see it as a problem.

The youma crystal may have been a part of him, focusing his power of precognition. But once he was freed from the hold of the demon, he had simply to look for his power once more. It was not lost, simply misplaced deep within himself.

Yet above all else, he trusted her. He knew she was intelligent, cunning and unlikely to take risks. But even one slip up and things would vanish in the mists of memory. Melt like ice.

-------

Yuuichirou Kumada was not stupid. He knew how Rei felt even if she didn't. He could see it in her eyes. He had discovered early on in his life that long hair and a vapid expression could circumvent nasty situations. It also let him pay attention to details others lost. He knew all about the weird goings in the vicinity of Juuban and in particular the events in and on Cherry Hill's Hikawa Shrine. The fire readings late at night; Rei slipping out at all hours. He was surprised at first when he figured out Rei's dual identity but it answered his questions. He still laughed inwardly at the way she behaved. So transparent. He was half tempted at times to tell her to cut it out and just take her in his arms. He just wished that the things she did wouldn't scare her so much. He would love to protect her, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew his butt would be kicked quite promptly and in good measure by whatever they fought and the media attempted to disguise.

He wasn't stupid. Shit, no town had as many gas leaks and chemical spills as Juuban.

-------

Grandpa Hino knew as well. He didn't let many people know that he was as sharp as a tack; he felt that being thought of as a perverted old fart was a good disguise. So what if it was true. He knew the first time he saw the Senshi of the Moon, Mercury and Mars on television, blurred by the magicks as the reception was. He was so well trained in the mystic arts that glamour's even as sophisticated as those employed by the Senshi were marginally, if not totally transparent. Still, if he had been looking straight at the TV he would have missed it.

He trusted Rei. He knew she could handle herself. But he also knew the size of her heart and that she would sacrifice her life and her soul to save her friends.

But then again over the years that he had known the girls, he knew the same applied to all of them.

-------

Mamoru sat in his unlit apartment. His eyes were raw. The tears had stopped but he felt as if he had betrayed her. It burnt him to the core.

These thoughts, so alien, like the last time, unwanted and unneeded, simply causing him discomfort, which he knew in turn, would hurt her. So he attempted to deal with them in the way he had dealt with most pain. He pushed it aside, acted like it didn't bother him and then cried in the dark hours, like a child scared from a nightmare, waiting for his parents to hold him and soothe the beasts. But when the beasts lived within and you know your parents aren't coming to save you, you just had to let the fears go.

Before they choked you, you tried to choke them.

-------

Chapter Two - Collision

"Hey I know how bad it can be

But I know how good you are

Yeah we have no problem, just a feeling"

Dave Dobbyn - "Two Fast Cars" - Loyal

-------

He couldn't shake the feeling. Which was exactly what it was. But the feeling was becoming a problem. He just sat in the unlit room and sulked. He couldn't even think of a nicer way to put it. Nothing glamorous about it.

He felt like he couldn't cut it. He was a distraction to her, a joke. He was insecure. Oh hell, yeah.

"Christ," he though, "if you brainwash a man enough times and he loses himself to himself."

He didn't know who he was anymore; let alone how to be that person.

He knew what he was and who, but the why and wherefore eluded him. The crisis of conscience everyone has. The sudden change in their behaviour, a new style, a new haircut. Testing the boundaries, self-discovery. Self-destruction. It was the same sort of thing; it just depended on the viewpoint. And the end point.

-------

Above her head the moon shone with a pristine radiance that captivated her. In times when she was troubled, she would stare at the orb of the night, seeking questions from a woman she barely knew, but who had given her everything added with the weight of an unbearable responsibility.

Vapidity and naiveté aside, she had a shrewd mind. She knew he was upset about something. He had become abstract. Warm when he was with her, alone Usagi, the klutzy girl he deeply loved. His eyes told her as much. But when the phantom personage of her alter ego was sparked or even mentioned, his eyes spoke a different song altogether. A song of pain, mourning and loss. Did he believe that every time she said those words, she ceased to be? She could understand his confusion. Duality of character had caused him troubles unparalleled in the literal sense. Many futures beckoned them both with countless trials.

Her seeming vapidity disguised her fear that they would be found lacking. Her faith in humanity's innate goodness and her love for him carried her on.

She was scared for him. But also of him. She could she the pattern emerging, the distance growing like it had three years ago. And now she couldn't blame it on a little girl from the distant future, or a nightmare. She could blame herself though. And she did.

What had she done to push him away?

-------

He was scared for her. And scared of what she would become, whether then, in the height of the glory they had glimpsed, she would need him, or even want him.

-------

The white cat pounced languidly over the rooftops towards his destination. The light rain speckling his coat like a myriad of diamonds. He was unsure of why he was doing this, but he was certain it was the right course to sail. He loved her dearly, yet what Mamoru had said had struck certain chords, which had exploded into a full-blown concerto of doubt.

Bracing himself gently on the gutter, he sailed gracefully towards the tree. The thick bark gave him ample hold as his claws dug deep into the tree's skin. Pausing to fix his hair, as he thought of it, shaking the excess dew from his back, he walked out towards the windowsill that bordered the tree. Sitting quietly beside the window and out of sight, he waited.

He felt like there was a face in the window. It was Usagi, yet she didn't see him, nor he her. Her eyes were fixed on the heavens and the moon. Tears reflecting the sheen of moonlight glistened in her eyes.

-------

The black cat was annoyed. It was common for her actually. Still that didn't necessitate her liking the fact. She knew something was bothering her young charge, yet the stubbornness of the Moon Princess could exceed that of her priestess friend. Realising quite early in the conversation that she would find little satisfaction the black cat had grumpily left the room and exited the house via the kitchen.

Sitting outside, in front of the living room ranch slider, contemplating how to spend her evening; since Usagi was in no mood, Luna was adrift in her own thoughts.

Quietly and almost as if flying, a single cherry blossom wafted down to land in between her front paws. Surprised, Luna looked up. The face of the white cat looked down on her solemnly.

"Artemis, I am really not in the mood for company."

The white cat however had not even heard his name. He had already left across the steep incline of the roof. He had been resting silently against the side of the house, the tree by Usagi's window masking him from sight and providing cover from the storm that seemed imminent.

"Drat!" cursed the slight black cat, "Why does everyone have to get angsty at the same time?"

The urge to ignore the tomcat poked into her mind but while the joker, Artemis was not one for needless moping. Sighing softly, she quickly scaled the drainpipe and made off over the rooftop after him.

-------

The park was quiet. It was midnight after all. The moon made the white cat's form appear silver in the backdrop of dark grass. Like a marble statuette given life.

Luna had followed Artemis closely and her worry had increased as the distance they travelled increased. Unnecessary that's what it was. Whilst by no means lazy, why did they have to travel all this way? Obviously he had something on his mind but was struggling with how to begin.

She stopped to catch her breath and being momentarily deafened by inane cracking as she disturbed a family of crickets, she did not see him pull a swift U-turn and disappear into the branches above her.

He knew bottling it up would hurt. More than it already did. "Better her not see me like this".

"Luna," his voice catching in his throat "how do you feel about me?"

Startled the female cat below him leapt two feet straight up.

"What, Artemis!" Composing herself, she automatically slipped into the no nonsense tone she used for the Senshi, "You drag me out all over Juuban and then ask..."

Artemis did not need this. "Don't even start" he hissed at her, "I just want a straight answer."

"I, I, I" whimpered the female cat.

"Well" screeched the male, his temper finally getting the better of him. His anger had slowly been building since his discussion with Mamoru and had been steadily overcoming his reason.

A sob wracked him and awoke him to his error. Tears began streaming down his face; unashamedly he choked out, "Luna I need to know!"

Luna was smart. Then again so was Artemis, smarter than her even. She had an edge though, that he lacked. He needed to please others, while she would do whatever it took to get the job done. This however, she sensed, was not a time to hide behind the matronly visage.

For the first time, ever, she said, "I love you Artemis."

Like a weight had been lifted and his anguish released, he collapsed upon the bow he was rested on, gently sobbing.

Luna nimbly skitted up the thick trunk of the elm tree and walked to the curled form of the male cat. The last two of their kind. She nuzzled his soft underbelly and curled up beside him, her head on his chest.

He would be ready to talk soon.

-------

Fitfully sleeping, his dreams echoed an emptiness that couldn't be filled. Her shining light illuminated all.

-------

Morning or at least a stark imitation.

Mamoru stood on his balcony; thick fisherman's jersey and jeans insulated his body from the chill outside. His coffee tasted thick and syrupy, the perfect kick-start for the morning. Looking off toward the rising sun, it reminded him of a runny egg.

"Breakfast" he mumbled, scratching his chin, stubbled as it was, and entered the apartment.

His kitchen was immaculate. Not as large or well stocked as Makoto's yet enough for him and occasionally a guest. Then again Makoto cooked for legions, or at least the impression of one. In all his time with them, he could never fathom how the girls could eat in such large quantities and still look perfect.

That derailed his train of thought promptly.

Minutes later he realised he was still standing in the kitchen, cold linoleum shocking his feet, while he mind wandered. His coffee now cold sat at his right hand.

Muttering under his breath, he tipped the cold syrupy mass down the drain and dropped his mug in the sink.

Five minutes later he was walking into the cold morning air, hooded polar fleece jacket pulled tight, destination somewhere, yet nowhere in particular.

-------

Something's never change. Even though she was a lady, she cursed. Luna hadn't been there to berate her getting up late this morning. The black feline had been doing that for the last three years and rarely missed a day. This worried Usagi. Her friend was more responsible than this.

"Humph", a mirthless chuckle sounded in Usagi's throat. Here she was talking responsibility. She was late for school. Again. Now that was rich.

It was expected however. Her teacher's put up with her tardiness due to one simple fact. She had, in the last year become a student of exceptional merit. While nowhere near as gifted a student as Ami Mizuno, she regularly scored in the top 10 of her peers.

Her mind wandering, yet never as fast as her feet, she bowled around the upcoming corner at a speed that made stopping at short notice negligible.

Minus obstruction of course.

The bundled up man wasn't even looking up and just walking straight ahead. His hooded polar fleece obscured his face, yet the air around him spoke familiarity.

Usagi ploughed straight into him.

Pulling herself off the hapless individual and profusely apologizing, she realised that the man's hood had fallen behind his head, exposing his rich dark hair.

"Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed, grasping him in a bear hug.

He stood dazed for a split second. Enough for her to notice. He shook himself out of his reverie. "Usako, where did you come from?" His smile seemed to warm the cold day.

"I ran straight into you, around the corner!" she said. A cold feeling in the pit of her stomach took over. She thought that it was either hunger or worry. But looking at his eyes once more she saw the pain deep within their blue depths. Worry.

"Oh I didn't notice," he replied, "you had better hurry on to school, ne?"

"Um, yeah sure," Usagi replied, "Are you okay Mamo-chan?"

Mamoru however had already started walking, his eye glazing over as he retreated into his thoughts.

-------

By lunchtime, Usagi's worry had solidified into a full-blown stomach-ache. Even the tempting delights of Makoto's lunchbox were unable to shake her stomach's stubborn refusal to eat.

Ami, Minako and Makoto glanced at each other over Usagi's odangos. Usagi was currently slumped over, her head resting in her arms.

The look of worry the trio shared was broken by Minako, who motioned the other two off to the side.

The Senshi of Love and Beauty, to all outward appearances, appeared to be the quintessential "dumb blonde". However, like Usagi, she had turned her grades around and was preparing to study psychology once she left high school.

"Um guys," Minako began "this is kinda like how she went when Mamoru and her had that whole 'dreams from the future spelling our doom' and all that, fiasco."

"Well yes, it does appear to be like that, but last time she spent weeks crying, whereas now she appears to be in a state of worry."

Makoto remained silent. The Senshi of Thunder had learned to curb her temper. Somewhat. Besides that, she doubted that Mamoru, now a friend to them all would have slipped back so far.

The three girls returned to Usagi, who had not moved at all.

Minako placed her hand on Usagi's shoulder. Usagi didn't even flinch.

"Usagi-chan, what's the matter?" Minako said. It was blunt but to the point.

Usagi looked up and two glistening tears blossomed in her eyes and rolled gently down her cheeks.

-------

Mamoru sat on the bench in the park. It was bloody cold. He didn't notice it though. This was bad, he knew. He hadn't been like this when Endymion sent him the dreams. That had been a cool detachment on the surface, with raging pain underneath. Not to mention the unfortunate issue of the alcohol.

This numbness scared him. It was like what the alcohol gave him. Except the alcohol numbed the thoughts as well. The thoughts now surged. He wanted to scream. He just couldn't be bothered to.

How long had he sat here. He should have been hungry and thirsty but he wasn't, it was like he was outside of time.

The soft crunching of gravel under feet was heard. With cool detachment he deduced the walker to be female, average height and weight. The pattern of the steps indicated he knew her.

A warm hand rested upon his shoulder.

The hand stayed there for a short time, and then the slight female form sat down beside him.

"Wanna talk?" the voice said.

To Mamoru the voice sounded like that of a drowning person, distorted and unable to reach the surface.

The female just sat there. Offering comfort by her presence.

He stared out over the boating lake into nothingness. A soundless sigh escaping his lips.

-------

Rei entered Makoto's apartment. After Galaxia, all the scouts where given keys by Makoto. Her apartment had become a sort of safe house, and relay point. All the scouts kept a change of clothing and other items here, in case of emergencies.

Makoto, arms around a sleeping Usagi, looked up as Rei entered. Minako was plugged into the stereo while Ami was 'reading' a book. Both however where asleep.

"Well, said Makoto as Rei entered the kitchen.

Rei signalled Makoto to follow her and Makoto moved slowly, so as not to wake Usagi. Usagi mumbled Mamoru's name and made a grab for Makoto's hand. She dodged it and followed after Rei.

"Well?" She asked again.

"I have no idea," said Rei, concern clearly written on her face. "Although I sense no dark energy."

"That's something at least" said Makoto.

"Something is bothering him though," said Rei, "But I have an idea. Will these guys be okay without us for a couple of hours?"

"Sure," said Makoto, "Usagi cried herself to sleep an hour or so ago and Minako and Ami crashed out shortly after. They all rung home, saying we were studying."

"Excellent", said Rei, "Lets go."

"Where?"

"My place."

-------

The sacred fire burned brightly when Rei and Makoto entered the shrine, as if greeting old friends. Grandpa Hino looked up from the embers he was contemplating and rose to greet the two girls.

"Little late for sightseeing," he grinned.

"Sorry Grandpa," said Rei, "I need to check something out."

"I trust your judgement," he said, "just be careful granddaughter, any fire can be dowsed eventually."

Rei looked confused as the old man slowly left the room, chuckling quietly to himself.

"He seems to be getting more and more cryptic every day," said Makoto.

Rei mumbled something derogatory under her breath. Startling herself with her language she apologized to the flames and went to don her robes. Her banter with the old man helped her to forget that with each day, age took him further along his road.

Makoto went to sit quietly in the corner.

Rei, now appropriately clad, placed herself in front of the fire. She cleared her thoughts of all but one thing. Mamoru Chiba.

-------

He had been an emotional wreck. She had no idea how he had ended up like that but she had managed to quench his fears, so it was alright for the time being. She was half contemplating finding the reason behind his fears and dealing with it. It had taken a long time to calm him down and after she had gotten home, and fallen asleep, she now felt better.

Now that she was awake, she proceeded to check in on her charge. Who wasn't in bed.

Leaving the house, quickly and quietly, she headed to the Hikawa Shrine.

-------

Chapter Three - Resolutions

"There are no unlockable doors, there are no unwinnable wars

There are no unrightable wrongs or unsingable songs

There are no unbeatable odds, there are no believable Gods

There are no unnameable names, shall I say it again"

Ozzy Osbourne - "I Just Want You"

-------

Luna arrived just as Rei was wishing Makoto goodnight.

"Humph Have hmph you hmph seen hmph Usagi?" said Luna, promptly collapsing.

Makoto scooped the lithe black cat into her arms and made her way into the night.

-------

He lay on his couch. Exhaustion had overcome him. His tears had left large watermarks upon the cushion his cheek rested on.

-------

The three slumbering Senshi slept on. The textbook was now on its side as Ami had slumped over. Her gentle breath rustled the pages like an autumn wind in the leaves. Minako had somehow managed to get her hair tangled in the headphone cord, a winsome smile on her face.

Tears crawled slowly down Usagi's cheeks. Pain and worry had followed her into her dreams.

A metallic clack sounded and the front door of Makoto's apartment opened slowly, a dozing cat, carefully held in the arms of the tall brunette.

Gently scratching behind the black feline's ear, Makoto placed Luna down beside her ward. Luna having heard the story on the way over, felt a small tear creep down her furred cheek. She gently bunted her charge, who nuzzled into the fur on her back.

Makoto smiled sadly, untangled Minako gently, closed Ami's book, turned around and went to bed.

-------

Morning dawned crisp and clear over the horizon, the remaining clouds fleeing in terror of the great orange orb.

A loud pounding resounded around Mamoru Chiba's apartment. He awoke slowly and cautiously. Something wasn't right.

What?

He stood up and realised he was fully clothed and in his living room.

The pounding persisted.

Mamoru rubbed the back of his head.

No. Wasn't a headache.

Still more pounding.

Ah. Door. This seemed to have become commonplace.

Not being a morning person, Mamoru had slight difficulties navigating himself to the door.

Opening the door, he found a bemused looking Motoki standing there.

Mamoru looked at him quizzically, turned around and walked back into his apartment.

Motoki calmly shrugged, took off his shoes and entered. He proceeded directly to the kitchen where he promptly began boiling the jug for coffee.

-------

Four girls walk calmly down the sidewalk. School beckoned ahead of them. All four had the same thing on their minds however and the pursuit of academia was not it.

While their leader had showered and made herself ready for school, Makoto had informed the others of Rei's vision, or at least as best as she could understand it.

According to Rei, the Great Fire had conveyed images of suffering, pain and doubt, overshadowed by an all consuming love. Rei had been correct that no evil was present.

They had decided to spare Usagi the details until she was a little more composed.

-------

Mamoru sat across from Motoki at his kitchen table. Motoki was concerned. Mamoru had missed his lectures the last three days. He also looked like shit. Four days worth of stubble had accumulated on Mamoru's face making it appear he had been soundly beaten.

"So what's bothering you Tuxedo Kamen?" said Motoki after five minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Mamoru looked up startled. Then shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he started his story.

-------

That afternoon, a freshly shaven and newly suited Mamoru Chiba stepped out of his apartment building into the sun. Breathing deeply he pondered the days events. So Motoki knew. That was an unexpected surprise but a pleasant one nonetheless. He needed that, a confidante, and who better than his oldest friend. Apparently he had deduced his friend's identity during the whole Dead Moon Circus debacle. Obviously Mamoru wasn't as careful as he liked to think he was.

His friend had noticed similarities in the movements of both Tuxedo Kamen and Mamoru Chiba, similarities in speech and the obvious injuries that Mamoru sometimes sustained.

He had told Motoki the whole story. He had only really needed to fill in details. Motoki already guessed as to the Senshi's alter egos.

They had talked for hours.

Married life had given Motoki an insight. He shared it with Mamoru. Basically it was just one simple concept. Honesty.

-------

Usagi had heard the story from the other Senshi by this time. She was detached. She knew he loved her. She had never doubted it. Now that she knew what was wrong with him, she could help him.

Her milkshake sat untouched.

The food-court of the mail was abuzz with small conversations and chatter, yet to Usagi it appeared that she sat in a bubble of tranquillity. The look of determination on the face of the odango haired blonde, set her friends mind's at ease.

Usagi was going to be fine.

-------

As the sun was setting, Usagi bade farewell to her friends as she made her way into the quiet park, taking a short cut towards home. The brilliant red eye of Sol, shined like a giant ruby, illuminating the clouds in a peaceful shade of pink with a hint of peach.

Sighing loudly, Usagi looked up towards the sunset.

A man stood looking at her. He was tall and well built. A black cape billowed dramatically around him, dissolving like smoke upon the wind.

He slowly walked down the green hillside until he stood a few feet from her.

"I am sorry Usako," he said, his heart in his eyes.

Answering with her arms she wrapped him in an embrace.

-------

He turned his head to look at her. The moonlight caught her blue eyes so that they shimmered like two stars plucked gently from the heavens.

She turned her head, and looked at him. It had taken him some strength to tell her this. He was afraid he would hurt her. To her it had hurt not being able to help him. She told him so.

"Mamo-chan," she continued, "ever since I meet you, you made me wish to better myself, to both annoy you and please you respectively." He grinned slightly at this, and was about to interrupt, when Usagi placed a finger over his lips.

"This made me stronger, as Tuxedo Kamen you believed in me, and as Mamoru Chiba you made me better myself and you loved me unconditionally. When I found out about the past and found you I became whole. When I kept losing you I nearly died, yet kept going because it was what you had shown me. You made me who I was and who I am now. You are a part of me. You are my support, my love... my Prince."

Her hand gently stroked his cheek.

A tear ran slowly down his cheek as he pulled her unresisting into a passionate kiss that could have melted suns.

He had found his peace, his Serenity.

-------

Prologue A

TRANQUILITY BENDING

"Oh now feel it coming back again

Like a rolling thunder chasing the wind

Forces pulling from the centre of the earth again

I can feel it"

Live - "Lightning Crashes" - Throwing Copper

-------

He hated the rain. Well, he didn't really hate it, disliked it intensely; and only when he was caught out in it. Worse however, was the lightning and thunder. While watching a storm was relaxing being in the midst of one was a nerve-wracking experience. The young man's gaze continuously alternated from the road, to the sky and to the pushbike beneath him. He couldn't help but shudder, partially from the cold, partially from a deep dread, an almost primal fear of nature.

"Metal conducts electricity," his mind mumbled to itself, mentally inaudible "and I'm the only metal about for miles". The chill drops of rain cooled his lips and sparsely stubbled chin.

His tone was slightly disgusted. He knew he should have learned to drive, it was times like this that the fear of being behind a ton of steel and aluminium was an impediment. Damnit, he knew he should have learned as soon as he was able. Complacency on his part but, well, damnit.

Almost as a response to his fear, like a nightmare creature sniffing the blood scent of fear, an arc of blue flame careened across the expanse of the heavens. The pedals seemed to leap to life under his feet, his legs involuntarily increasing their circuit. The rain was obscuring his vision, the cold seeds of sky dangling on his eyelashes, creating sharp facets in his line of sight, distorting the black and white reality.

Thunder. Lightning.

He quickened his pace. His knees hurt. The bicycle seat was too low for his height.

Thunder. Lightning.

"Please don't hit me - please don't hit me - please don't hit me," the words echoed silently in his head, as the burn of wet muscles were pushed aside for speed and the possibility of home.

Thunder. Lightning.

"Please don't hit me - Please don't hit me - Please don't hit me" The quiet inner voice lamented, over and over. Consciously the boy knew that the odds were several million to one, but the situation wasn't one for rational thought. It was late and he was cold, wet, tired and hungry.

A peal of thunder similar to the bells of a gargantuan cathedral toiled their mournful dirge directly over head.

"Oh shit..." The quiet brain cussed.

White static.

-------

The quiet suburban neighbourhood of Tokyo's Juuban District was lit by eight o'clock sunlight. Parents had gone to work, children had gone to play and those that stayed at home were finishing the complimentary cup of coffee that signified success at getting all those early morning chores completed. Washing needed to be hung out and the low ranch sliders were being opened to the early spring air, crisp and filled with the smell of life returning to the soil after the winter.

Peace is relative, and Ikuko Tsukino knew this better than most parents.

Like clockwork. Every day, the same time, and the same situation.

An incomprehensible scream (loosely translated along lines of being late) issued from a blonde haired girl as she threw herself out of bed, down the hallway and into the humid warmth and mist of the bathroom.

The long blonde pigtails streamed behind her as she moved out of her bedroom and into the hallway, her sleep loosened odangos bouncing on her head like tumbleweeds. Shutting the door behind her, the young woman peeled off her pyjamas and stepped into the heated stream of water.

Strangely enough, she had never needed to turn the shower on. Not since Junior High School anyway. Her parents often joked that a watch could be set to the scream that shattered the relative peace of the neighbourhood. Her mother had merely made it a habit to turn the shower on two minutes prior to allow the water to come to temperature. Roughly at about eight thirteen every morning.

A small-framed black cat sat on her cushion in the living room staring at the ceiling.

The crashing had stopped, as per usual, as the blonde woman above stood under the showerhead. The shower was almost directly above the cat's head from her position on the pillow, set slightly to the side of the ranch slider in a spot that had all day sun. The usual pleasure of the beam was regularly hampered by the sitcom of waking.

Noises above her had disturbed her nap, noises that any other being would be able to acclimatize too, except this was a rather special cat with a rather special job. Slip, bump, crash. Her charge had made it out of the shower, albeit less that gracefully. She had from the sounds overhead, made it out of the shower, slipped on her own wet feet, grabbed the towel rail and fallen to the floor.

Slam, pound, pound, pound, wompfh. Dressed and fallen over, indicative by the clatter. Humans seemed to make a habit of forgetting they only had two legs and a very fine centre of balance when their minds were preoccupied.

Crash. Too fast out of her room and hitting the opposite wall. The child was almost like a newborn deer, all legs. Even now, over seventeen years of age, her motor skills lacked.

The cat, Luna by name, stretched lazily. Shaking out her fur, she silently padded to the hallway, slightly out of the way of the landing where stairs met floor. Her charge would soon appear.

Pound, pound, pound. A tallish young woman, eyes bright blue, her rich golden blonde hair in a style definite to her, two balls of hair with tails high on her head, came down the steps in a disjointed fashion, three steps then one then two and so forth.

And splat, pretty much just as the cat had expected. A blessing the girl didn't bruise easily really.

Face first into the carpet on the landing, school uniform in disarray.

"It is a school holiday, you know?" said Luna. The cat's face and voice had a matronly tone and set to it, conveying authority and warmth, warmth that sadly, was all too often hidden. The black cat's face was level with the prostrate girl's, planted in the carpet. Cats learn quickly, and young woman with momentum and energy falling on you is a lesson that requires no refresher course.

With that her charge, Tsukino Usagi let out a brief high-pitched wail of indignation, and sulkingly ascended the staircase.

Luna shook her head and went back to her cushion. Perhaps she had done something bad in one of her nine lives. Although, heaven knew, this was probably a bit much in the way of punishment.

Another day in Tokyo had begun.

-------

The raven-haired young priestess stood upon the top of the steps leading to the Hikawa Shrine. Her black hair was tied loosely behind her head with a piece of red cloth, matching the trim of her pure white Miko robes. The white, crisp uniform was becoming uncomfortably warm in the burgeoning heat, and she pondered how she had ended up here once more. Her grandfather and that lazy rock music wannabe handyman Yuuichirou had gone off for the day to some sort of "religious retreat". She would have preferred to called it fishing and drinking, doubting in her cynical way, that much religion would actually be involved whatsoever. The pair had become over the year almost as a father and son, similar to the fact that she herself saw her grandfather as more a father than her own had ever been. The sporadic girlhood distaste for the bumbling musician had grown into something she hadn't originally been comfortable with.

Locked in remembrance, the sunlight was swallowed by her dark hair, making the depths of it seem a midnight purple, matching the cloaked depths of her eyes.

The steps beneath her descended at a leisurely pace towards the street below, with leaves strewn in a kaleidoscopic array upon them. She needed a broom.

As she turned to go and get the broom, more often than not, now, her weapon of choice, a rustling sound upon the archway above her head startled her out of her melancholy. Two dark birds settled down to perch, Deimos the raven, shaking his wings and Phobos, his constant companion, landing silently beside him.

One of the birds screeched as the maiden, Hino Rei, looked questioningly at the pair.

"Hello?!" she heard a voice call out from below. She knew who it would be. Her friends and she were, or had, been planning to spend the day together before her grandfather had disappeared early that morning, an empty refrigerator and a note, testimony to his departure.

Rei looked down the steps. Coming up at a sedate walk were Aino Minako and Kino Makoto. They both seemed pleased about something. Rei was lost momentarily, taking in the details of the day, which besides her being lumbered with temple duties, still looked full of promise. The blonde, Mina, had a red bow in her silky hair and Mako; her deep chestnut locks were pull back in a tight ponytail. Both were dressed casually, the blonde in a red baby-doll dress, the brunette in light blue jeans and a forest green midriff top. What were they so happy about?

"Good morning, Rei" spoke a voice at her ankle. Rei leaped sideways and glared balefully at the cat how had startled her. Artemis, the white tomcat, sat upon his haunches beaming widely at her. Both Makoto and Minako were laughing at Rei, uncharacteristically caught off guard.

"That was not funny," said Rei, as both ravens flew off into the sakura blossoms, frightened by the loud noises. Makoto and Minako had reached the top step.

"Do you have plans today Rei?" asked Mina in her rich voice. Almost like butterscotch, it matched her hair and beautiful face perfectly.

"No," said Rei grumpily, "just all the work those men have left me with".

"Forget it," said Makoto, "you deserve a break, exams are over and its time to have some fun. Besides I have an idea as to what will cheer you up."

"What's that?" asked Rei acidly. Having already been the butt of one joke today, she was reluctant to walk blindly into a second.

"An old friend's back in town" grinned Minako, her left eye closing in an overly theatrical wink. Drama queen.

-------

Usagi felt what seemed like rain upon her face. At last recollection, she was inside the house, in her bedroom as a matter of fact, so unless some tornado straight from The Wizard of Oz had ripped the roof off, she was imagining it.

It got more persistent however. And she hadn't been dreaming along any nautical lines.

She grunted and rolled over. Her pink tongue was hanging out on the upward side of a snore when she felt something soft yet sharp on her lips.

She mumbled something about washing and rolled over again. What had previously been slight drizzle was now a downpour.

Shaking sleep off like a lead blanket Usagi sat up, shaking her hair and rubbing her face vigorously.

Laughter, and quite a lot of it, came from nearby.

Rei, Makoto, Minako and Chiba Usagi sat smirking at her. Usagi took a deep breath and proceeded to berate her friends and cousin, "What do you think you are doing in my bedroom, I'm not up yet, get out and leave me alone!"

Chibi-Usa, hair matching Usagi's perfectly beside the colour and length and the inverted ice-cream cone odangos, said, "We're not in you room."

Usagi finally awake, looked about. She was lying under her large rabbit cover duvet on the front lawn under the sprinkler. Needless to say she screamed and ran into the house.

Makoto stood and walked towards the garden hose, turning the tap off. "Chibi-Usa, that was a dirty trick."

"It was funny though," interjected Minako.

"Papa thought so too, but only after the sprinklers stopped and he had gotten dry."

Rei and her companions all stood, smiles on their faces as they went towards the house, in time to meet their damp, bunny pyjama wearing blonde friend on her way back out. The older blonde girl, several blades of grass stuck to her cheek, scooped the smaller pink haired girl child into her arms and cried into her neck, muttering about missing her cousin and her daughter as well as cruel tricks and practical jokes.

-------

Prologue B

FIVE MONTHS LATER... AND THEN SOME

"I tried so hard and got so far

But in the end it doesn't even matter

I had to fall and lose it all

But in the end it doesn't even matter"

Linkin Park - "In The End" - Hybrid Theory

-------

He lay broken in the smoking crater. The smell of death wafted around him like it had become part of the air itself, cloying his nostrils with its acrid reek. The fire and lightning of the battle sheeted across the sky like some crazed aurora effect. He could have put it down to hallucination, but he knew better.

His stomach wound oozed blood steadily; his breathing had become ragged. He could see his dim reflection in the muddy puddle at the bottom of the crater he had propped himself against. He looked like he should already be dead.

Turning his gaze towards the side, he glanced across the battlefield. His comrades fought valiantly, yet the forces of the Queen ran them down like a scythe does wheat. He could see some of the planetary banners being tossed about in the wind like rags, other's being crushed into the dust by merciless feet.

He coughed, the rich metallic tang of blood filling his mouth. He spat.

It would not be much longer.

He shivered. It was cold on the moon. The atmosphere was as rich as that of the Earth, yet it was not home. His tunic had been shredded when his stomach had been lacerated, his enemy paying for the wound with its life. The only spot on his tunic that shone like new was the emblem above his heart that marked his position as Captain of the Outer Guard.

His King and Queen had ordered him to stay and guide from the sidelines. He had argued with his friends, his rulers, that his presence would inspire morale. They had simply nodded. He was his mother's son. Normally he would have been ordered, but today, yesterday, a week ago, how long had it been? Well, it was different this time.

Coughing once more, his long straight blonde hair fell over his face. He hunched himself over, cramps invading his sanity.

"No matter the amount, the times I see such reckless slaughter it all seems pointless." a female voice, deep and melodic said.

Struggling to look up, he saw her, clad in black and green, a green so deep as to match her hair, almost black. The staff she held was planted into the soil by her feet. It struck him that it looked so much like a key, he was shocked he hadn't noticed it before. He tried to suppress a laugh, knowing it would rage out of him, unbridled into the night. The world around them was almost frozen, moving at a pace akin to naught.

"Do not worry, it is simply a bending of the rules, slipping between the moments."

He laughed, the maniacal humour gone, leaving it bitter and dry. A hollow sound from what should have been now, by rights, his dead and cold lips. He struggled to find his voice, "Like Mother always said, 'Whenever Pluto plays with time, you can expect trouble.' Or something like that."

"That does indeed, sound like your mother." replied the Senshi Of Time.

"The others..." he croaked his words hanging.

"Gone, The Fell Queen cannot," Meioh Setsuna paused, "will not win, Serenity has placed wards. Sacrifices made shall not be made in vain. This will not happen again, or at all."

"Cryptic." Ward's would only last so long, they both knew that and as soon as their maker passed, they would be nothing, much like the bloodied cause he had fought for.

"Quite," she replied, "but I have a task for you Naydar."

"Setsuna, I am, as you can plainly see, nearly dead."

She laughed, a rich trilling sound, out of place on the scorched and bloodied field of battle.

"I have looked and seen, Naydar, and you have work behind you that remains unfinished."

He stared at her, questioning. He had only seen her cry once, and now the tears streamed down her face. He lifted his hand to her. She clasped it in her warm, living one.

Looking him in the eyes, she shook her head. "I am sorry, so sorry."

Behind her, the Time Staff rose, of its own accord, from the soil, the Garnet Orb, pulsing a quiet almost forlorn shade of pink.

He did not recognise the feel the Staff exuded. This was different.

"I will explain earlier, but know now, for that I am sorry."

The voice trickled off as his eyelids drooped and the sounds of war and chaos entered his ears like a siege.

He felt a gentle tug at his neck, followed by a wrenching heave and he fell backwards, the light and life both slipping away in a blur.

-------

It was a special day.

Tsukino Usagi decided this upon waking. The world had stopped needing it's heroes a little over one-year ago. Today, she ceased to be a child and would become a woman. Eighteen years old.

The sun gently intruded into her sleep-numbed brain, as she slowly began to access the world around her.

Shadow.

Shadow filled her gaze. Opening her eyes slowly, unsure of what to expect, she found the black slinky form of a cat. Luna.

The cat gently leaned towards Usagi's nose and placed its wet nose against the tip of Usagi's dry and warm one. Usagi squealed. Luna nose was also cold.

Leaping aside to avoid the thrashing of limbs and the muted mumblings. Luna rested upon her haunches and glanced towards the heaving duvet.

Two long slim legs appeared from out the side of the bed, followed by coverlets being thrown to reveal a now thoroughly awake Usagi.

Luna walked over to Usagi and gently bunted against her leg. Usagi leaned down and picked the cat up, looking it directly in the face, its hind legs dangling.

"Hello Luna. How nice of you to wake me."

"Happy Birthday, Your Highness."

Usagi promptly dropped the cat. Luna looked up at her from the floor, and regaining her usual tone of address for her owner "Honestly Usagi, I try to be nice and this is..."

The cat was unable to finish as it was grabbed in a fierce hug and danced around the room.

-------

"Beop."

A room. Quiet, sterile and chill. A low humming could just be heard, emanating from a small bank of machines against one wall.

"Beop", a small sound pierced the quiet. Followed by another, more rhythmic yet staccato. A simple beat.

The figure was covered up to its chest in a plain white blanket, standard hospital issue.

The figure had been in this bed for nearly five months. Coma. The body had been overloaded by neural impulses and had shut down aside from its more basic functions. The brain was alive but was almost trapped in the shell it had once commanded.

It was a pitiful figure to witness. Once powerful and young, now weak and drawn.

Countless prayers and wishes had been said over this body and for it, but its wandering soul had yet to return home.

It never would.

"Beop."

-------

Yes, today was indeed special. All her friends had come to wish her the best. Her confidantes, her support, her anchors. All. She was deeply touched by this.

The open marquee, holding this celebration was lit by the glorious light of the sun, almost smiling at them, as if, he too, shared a part of their jubilation.

Chiba Mamoru, the metaphorical tall, dark and handsome twirled his lovely fiancée-to-be in his arms as they danced to the slow orchestra composition played by their dear friends Tenoh Haruka and Kaioh Michiru. The pair were enthralled in their music, the statuesque shorthaired blonde behind her baby grand and the limber aquamarine haired virtuoso behind her Stradivarius. It was their gift to their Princess, a song of hope and love and appreciation, gained through heartache and loss.

More than a celebration of one birth, it was almost a celebration of life itself.

Tomoe Hotaru stood to the side, looking at the dancing couples. Mamoru and Usagi were like a centrepiece in a mosaic, dancingly composed of light silks and dark suits. The small quiet girl watched silently, her dark hair and eyes taking all the joy around her in, but in her dark dress, she was like a shadow in the eaves of the forest. A serious girl, yet she had an abundance of love, yet to her, it more often meant pain. She was content to watch.

Reika and Motoki Andrews danced gently to the strains of the beautiful violin and piano piece, their brown haired heads closer together. Today he had exchanged his casual jeans and shirt for suit and tie. His wife more comfortable in the earth colours of khaki, lightened his universe in her blue velvet dinner dress. Umino and Naru attempted to dance, Umino managing two steps out of three, his thick lenses glasses fogged in concentration, his brown hair limp and with Naru leading, her fiery red hair and dress like a small conflagration on the dance floor.

Kino Makoto beamed with pride as young and old alike saluted her culinary achievements. Convinced at the last minute to forgo the responsibility of chef, she had donned a sheer forest green dress, highlighted by the small rosebud earrings she always wore and the splash of proud embarrassment on her cheeks. Mizuno Ami, her blue haired head and dress matching seamlessly sat with Urawa, both looking slightly uncomfortable in the finery. Urawa ran a hand through his copper brown hair nervously. In all likelihood, quietly discussing some science thing, at a party no less, above the head of all save possibly Motoki and Mamoru.

Hino Rei stood, defiantly ignoring Yuuichirou as he begged for one dance. Her pose had scared away those asking for a dance, her silk dress, deep red, captivating. Yuuichirou, outwardly, wasn't very quick when it came to Rei.

Aino Minako, a radiant sunflower of gold and orange, held court to one side, as boys and men both, bade for her attentions, the occasional straggler being snapped up by one of the Sisters.

Hotaru watched it all. Yes, a good day.

Setsuna stood out on the lawn, looking towards the sky. Today, yes. Her champagne glass rested against her hip almost touched but not quite, a slight half stain of cherry lipstick on the rim.

A ripple, subtle yet felt; then a tear and finally, with the force and surprise of a punch to the stomach, a gash.

-------

The figure under the white hospital blanket twitched, atrophied limbs feeling the spark of life.

"Beop."

The machines began to chirp and whir as signals unfelt assaulted their small mechanical brains.

The figure began to seizure.

Alarms sounded as the body began to crawl slowly out of its darkness.

The machines, keened a high pitched whine, assaulting ears and senses.

The figure sat bolt upright.

And screamed. In agony of a life and a death - all felt, all lost and all but forgotten.

-------

DISCLAIMERS

Foolish Heart written (finished) 17th June 2000. Compiled 3rd October 2000 and re-edited 26th August 2001. Re-edited again 19th June 2002. By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong) Standard disclaimers apply. Special thanks to John Hitchens (author of Lightning Crashes). Sailor Moon and related characters were created by Naoko Takeuchi and are copyright Kodansha, Bandai, Mixx, Pioneer Entertainment and DIC. Both Sides of the Story by Phil Collins from the album Both Sides is copyright. If any of this information is incorrect or absent, I offer my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these organizations, companies or individuals. Thank you for reading.

The Pain Of Doubt written (finished) 26th May 2000. Compiled 3rd October 2000 and re-edited 23rd June 2002. By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong) Standard disclaimers apply. Sailor Moon and related characters were created by Naoko Takeuchi and are copyright Kodansha, Bandai, Mixx, Pioneer Entertainment and DIC. The Beauty of Grey by Live is from the album Mental Jewellery and is copyright Radioactive Records. Two Fast Cars by Dave Dobbyn is from the album Loyal and is copyright CBS Records and Mushroom Music. I Just Want You by Ozzy Osbourne is copyright. If any of this information is incorrect or absent, I offer my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these organizations, companies or individuals. Thank you for reading.

Even Flow Prologue A - Tranquillity Bending started April 2000 and finished April 2001. Compiled and Edited June 2002. By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong). Standard disclaimers apply. Sailor Moon and related characters were created by Naoko Takeuchi and are copyright Kodansha, Bandai, Mixx, Pioneer Entertainment and DIC. Lightning Crashes by Live from the album Throwing Copper is copyright Radioactive Records and Universal Music. If any of this information is incorrect or absent, I offer my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these organizations, companies or individuals. Thank you for reading.

Even Flow Prologue B – Five Months Later And Then Some started April 2000 and finished April 2001. Compiled and Edited June 2002. By Nicholas Paul Clark (Warriorsong). Standard disclaimers apply Sailor Moon and related characters were created by Naoko Takeuchi and are copyright Kodansha, Bandai, Mixx, Pioneer Entertainment and DIC. In The End by Linkin Park from the album Hybrid Theory copyright WEA International and Warner Records Incorporated. If any of this information is incorrect or absent, I offer my most humble apologies. No copyright infringement is intended, this is merely a work of fan fiction. I am in no way affiliated to any of these organizations, companies or individuals. Thank you for reading.