Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I do not own the Sailor Moon characters, Haruka, Michiru, et al. If I did, I'd be rich now. I'm only borrowing them. Please don't sue me. I'm just a poor college student with no money and future loans to pay. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Michiru ran down the dark alleys of the city, breathing raggedly from the strain of running for so long and so hard. They were still chasing her and she could not stop. Not even to fight.

She was not a helpless person. On the contrary, she was quite capable of handling herself. She could fight with hands and feet and arms and legs. She could disable and kill if need be. Her father had trained her well. But she was still human and five against one

were too great of odds even for her. So Michiru ran down the alley, her feet pounding against the pavement hollowly, her heart pounding against her ribcage from the effort of sustaining her speed. She was in great shape but dammit, she was a swimmer not a runner.

It had been a bad idea to go to the market at midnight. She had never had problems before with the corner market and she had been confident that whatever dangers there were, she could defend herself. The store was only two blocks away, after all, and she had been

there countless times at late hours. But she had not expected it to be closed for the weekend, the owner taking an early vacation. She also had not expected the five men who had swarmed out of the darkened store. They had been attempting to rob it. One man had leered at her and said she was the bonus prize. And at that moment, Michiru had turned to flee, not to her apartment for she did not want to be cornered, but away to where she could hide. Still it had been no use. They were so persistent, calling taunts to her even while they chased her.

She turned a corner hurriedly, hearing footsteps closing in, the men's ragged breaths close by. There were bushes here and she scrambled through them. If she was where she thought she was, at the other end of this alley would be the back entrance to the park and at the end of the park would be the local police station.

Her pursuers must have had the same thought for they were crashing through the bushes hurriedly now no longer taunting but still determined.

Despair gripped Michiru's heart. There were too many bushes and she was getting so tired, her legs burning and her lungs on fire.

"Gotcha," said a voice triumphantly. A hand clamped down hard on her arm and dragged her sideways into the chest of one of her pursuers. She smelled strong alcohol on him.

She struggled of course, kicking and biting in such an enclosed space. But the man laughed and grabbed both arms, twisting. Michiru cried out in pain and opened her mouth to scream but another one clamped his hand down over her mouth. There were only four of them

now. The other one must have stopped chasing her but four was still too many to fight alone.

"Don't fight, little girl," the one covering her mouth said, leering. "I'll be nice to you."

Another man came up close to the one holding her arms and took a swig of the bottle he carried. "Pretty, pretty," he murmured and grabbed her breast roughly.

The one holding her put his mouth close to her ear, "I'm going to enjoy – ," he started to say but never finished his sentence.

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice asked loudly.

As one, the men's eyes were drawn to the voice. A man stood casually in the shadows.

"What's it to you, pal?"

"I'm not looking for trouble," the voice said again. "But I wonder about four men holding a girl in a dark alley."

"You better move on, mister," the one who had grabbed Michiru said. She heard a bottle break and realized that someone was now brandishing the wine bottle one of the men had been carrying. In the pale light, the sharp, jagged edges glinted.

"Oh?" the voice said in slight amusement. "And what if I decide to join you?"

Michiru's heart thudded painfully. She had thought it would be a rescue. She struggled harder, fear gripping her heart.

"Private party," alcohol breath said twisting her arm.

"Oh, but I insist," the voice drawled. This time there was a hint of danger and the man started to move.

"Move on, man. Or you'll be sorry."

His answer was the sound of something slashing quickly through the air and hitting the ground with a metallic ping. Michiru saw a spark of light and one of the men suddenly fell to the ground clutching his arm. The stranger was gone suddenly.

"What the – ?" alcohol breath said.

The man with the broken bottle fell with a scream of pain, the crash horribly loud in the dark. There were only two of them now. Alcohol breath tightened his grip on Michiru's arm while the other kept his hand over his mouth.

"What do you say, boys," the voice said somewhere in the shadows. "Are you gonna let the girl go?"

For a moment, the two that were left hesitated. Then the man who had covered her mouth gave a cry of fear and ran. It was only alcohol breath left now and he kept his hold on her tight.

"Help me, please," Michiru gasped out.

"Shut up," alcohol breath said and yanked her tighter against him.

"Just you now," the voice said and then tapped something on the ground. It was definitely metal from the sound, a cane maybe. "I suggest you let her go."

"Look, man," alcohol breath said. "You back off or I'll kill her."

The voice laughed, low and musical. Tap. Tap. "What if I come and kill you instead?"

"Back off," the man holding Michiru said again. He started backing away towards the alley entrance, towards the bushes. There was fear in his voice now. "I've got a knife. I'm not afraid to use it."

Tap. Tap.

"Help me," Michiru said again, painfully now.

"I said, shut up, bitch," the man said and then he pushed her forward one hand coming up from his side.

There was a blur of motion as she fell and she was aware that alcohol breath was falling with her, clutching at his throat with one hand. It registered foggily in her mind that there was blood spurting between his fingers. Then she hit the ground on her side

and pain shot up her arm. It took her a moment to realize that her arm was bleeding and a nasty gash on her forearm was welling blood.

Alcohol breath lay inches from her, dead.

"Are you alright?" the stranger suddenly asked, bending over her to offer her his arm.

"I – ," she started to say. But the relief was too much. The rescue was such a relief and the blood dripping down her arm was draining her. Without another word, Michiru fainted.

The stranger sighed in resignation and then bent to wipe the bloody sword he still carried on the dead man's jacket. Then sheathing it, he bent to pick up the unconscious girl before she got it any more trouble.

*******



Michiru woke up with a startled jerk not knowing where she was and what she was doing there. She lay on a leather couch with a wool blanket over her. A fireplace in front of her warmed her gently and her arm was freshly bandaged. Then she remembered.

"Good to see you not dead," a voice said by her head.

Michiru craned her neck around and saw the stranger that had rescued her. In the firelight she could distinguish the fine features, the blonde hair, the intense eyes. Somehow she knew that he had been there for a while.

"No. Thank you."

The stranger arched an eyebrow.

"I mean, yes. Thank you," Michiru said blushing. What was she supposed to answer that question with?

The stranger came around to stand across from her. Michiru silently sat up. Kaioh, Michiru," she said softly, extending a hand.

He nodded. "I've taken the liberty of calling a taxi for you. They're waiting outside."

Michiru was a little shocked at the rudeness.

"I had one of the servants prepare you dinner if you wish it. Otherwise, I wish you goodnight."

And just like that he was gone. Michiru just gaped at where he had stood, her hand dropping to her lap.

"Ma'am?" a servant said to her. "Ma'am? Did you want dinner?"

Michiru shook her head, sudden tears coming to her eyes. She knew she wasn't a guest but this was just shocking and rude. An inexplicable sense of abandonment filled her.

"No, thank you. I – I'll just go now."

She got to her feet suddenly, looking wildly around for the front door. "Tell um, tell – I don't even know his name," she said to the servant with a sob.



The servant looked shocked and scandalized at this sudden behavior.

"It's her," she emphasized. "Tenoh-sama."

"Japanese?"

The servant nodded.

"Tell her, thank you." Michiru said and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, coming up against the bandages. She was beginning to gain her composure back. "The front door, please?"

The servant pointed silently and Michiru on the edge of crying again, hurried out.

The taxi was there as she had said and just before Michiru got in, she turned around and looked up. Framed in a window, she could just make out the figure of her rescuer, tall and strong and untouchable. The sun was just beginning to rise and as the pale rays broke through into morning, the figure in the window was suddenly lit fully. And in Tenoh-san's eyes, Michiru saw an infinite sadness that she could not put words to. Then the figure was gone and it was only an empty window.

Angry and depressed, Michiru got in the taxi without a word, the driver looking back at her to only say, "Whoever he is, miss, he's not worth it."

*******