Serena does not know what to think of her – this woman who knows everything and takes care of everyone. She's elegant and graceful and oh so perfect, the one who always says the right thing, who never makes mistakes, who never lets anyone die. When she smiles, she lights up the room, bringing happiness and warmth to everyone, making the world a better place simply by her mere presence.
Serena does not know what to think of her, this woman who is the future Queen of Neo Tokyo, who is, for all intents and purposes, Serena's own future. Except she's not. Because Serena is not perfect or elegant, and sometimes her hardest just isn't good enough; because Serena is only human, even though Sailor Moon and Queen Serenity are not. She's constantly running late, she's chronically lazy, and she's the furthest thing from graceful. She can't count the number of times Sailor Moon has fallen flat on her face during a fight (although she's positive Rei has a tally somewhere). And everyone's waiting for her to miraculously turn into this woman who can do anything, and she can't. It's never going to happen. But no one else seems to understand this, and they look at her as if she has all the answers, as if she can save them all, and she's desperately afraid they're all going to die, that she's going to fail, even though her future self saves them all.
"Serena?" That quiet, lovely voice, the one people hush just to listen to, the one Serena hushes to listen to, and it's not her, and it never will be (if she had any doubts of this, it would be assuaged by the number of times people asked her to quiet down because her shrill voice gave them a headache). But it is her, her future self, and she looks up and meets her own eyes.
"They're waiting for you. Decisions must be made, and you are the one who must make them," and there is no hint of censure in that cool, poised voice, just expectancy. It makes Serena want to scream, to shout, to ask why her? Why did they expect this from her? But she does not, because she's lived through wars and pain and blood, and the question why stopped mattering a long time ago.
It doesn't matter anyway. This is herself she is talking to, as much as Serena tries to deny it. The future Queen looks at her, the epitome of calm, and there is no softness in her face. "You have to prepare for this. There will be many more fights, most much worse than what you face today." Her voice is hard and cool as glass, and her eyes are pitiless; she too has faced tears and blood, as well as death, and mercy was only one casualty of her wars.
Serena looks at her and just breathes for a moment. Then she straightens her shoulders, holds her head high, and leaves the room. She does what she has to; she always has and always will.
In the end, there was never any doubt.