Hello, people! Got my AS results and I'm more than chuffed. But after all that stress, I'm hoping the absence of angst in my personal life won't show in this chapter… or the others… ;)

Also, I'm writing this instalment (other than because it's my mission) to commemorate the fact that this story has nearly twice as many reviews as its predecessors, despite having the same number of chapters (until now, that is – woo, new record!). I'm really grateful so many people have taken an interest; over the last few months of writing you guys have set me on a learning curve for future stories, and I'm eternally grateful for your input. Though you have no control over the storyline. That has been fixed from the start. Because as I have stressed time and time again, I am evil. And so are you, for letting me continue to reap doom upon our saviours' love lives and doing nothing to stop me.

But enough of the mushy crap and ranting. Go on, read, before I get all emotional.


Chapter Seven

Ami and Rei heard her before they saw her. No set of heavy fire doors could compete with that speed, that strength, that storm of emotion. Jupiter turned a sharp corner, charging through the entrance to Ami's private room. She stood in the threshold, the double-hinged doors swinging in violent slow-motion. The white hospital walls backlit her, silhouetting her powerful form. Simultaneously, it illuminated the dimly lit room, shining over Ami's face where she sat on the bed. Makoto was shocked. She slammed the returning door with a wide palm, propping it open so she could see.

Ami's lip was badly split. Her right eye was black, and so swollen that she struggled to see through it. There was a cut where something had obviously connected with her cheekbone, and red scratches on her neck.

Mako sprinted to her side, an impressive feat with a wide leg-span in a tiny room, and Rei backed away from Ami in a burst of empathy for her taller friend. She experienced a vivid déjà vu of herself and Minako as she slipped into a shadowy corner, which grew darker still as the door was finally allowed to close.

When Makoto sat down and the young Mizuno could see her more closely, she could hardly believe her eyes: Mako was crying. Ami couldn't remember her crying once in all the years that she had known her – and she would have remembered this feeling. It was like being torn in two. Suddenly, the brunette wrapped a single, strong arm around her shoulders and held her against her chest, resting her chin on the top of the smaller girl's head. Ami was too stunned to stop her, so just let it happen, leaning into the embrace and ignoring the resurrecting hope in the pit of her stomach.

Jupiter's grip was tight, her heart a thundering wreck. Mercury watched the world sway gently left and right with the shaky rise and fall of her best friend's chest. With a sharp sniff, Makoto dropped her head; she crushed her lips to Ami's forehead, leaving them there to act as a fiercer hug. Her original intent had been to kiss her, but then she had remembered herself and acted barely in time to pass off the gesture as something else.

For a moment or two, Ami dozed happily under Makoto's infallible protection, until the latter stood abruptly, overcome with an inability to be still. The other two in the room knew exactly what the overprotective Senshi was thinking as she began to prowl the small room like the lone wolf she used to be. She turned to Ami, an angry hurt in her sharp jade eyes.

"Who?" Her words rang out in the silence. "Who did this?" The question came out as a demand. Makoto felt the fury burn her, steaming and scolding as she looked into Ami's deep oceanic orbs. Her voice broke. "I swear to God, I'll kill them."

"No!" Before she could think, Ami had already leapt to stand beside her, tugging her shirt to pull her back into a one-sided hug. It was almost as if the bluenette had taken out her compact supercomputer and scanned for Mako's Achilles heel, because Ami's plea was the only thing that could have stopped her right now. "You don't kill people Mako-chan. You're a good person. And it's time you knew the truth."

Mercury's hands slackened at the realisation of what she had to say aloud; Jupiter put her own hands over those slim, dextrous fingers, willing the smaller girl to never let go of her.

A suffocating silence filled the room. For Ami, it was like one of those horrible class presentations. The nerves built and built until finally she was up there, and now she had to spit the words out and get it over with…

"It was my father."

Rei stood up straight from where she had leant on the wall. Wow, killer déjà vu. She glanced concernedly between Ami and Makoto, the latter of whom was positively taken aback.

Ami's expression turned sad, almost guilty.

"When I told you my dad was an artist, it was somewhat of an understatement." She paused, looking meaningfully into Mako's eyes. "He's an artistic genius. An IQ of 289. He passed his intellect on to me, but it may not be the only thing he gave me – his smarts came at a price."

Makoto began to understand, but was still unable to fully absorb it.

"It's called BPD – Borderline Personality Disorder."

Ami looked away again, looking grave. "It's known to be hereditary. So the tests I underwent aren't routine like I said they were – they were all looking for something specific – or rather, ruling out any other sicknesses which could cause behaviour similar to BPD.

"He's lived in a mental institute for most of my life. He tried to kill himself again a couple of weeks ago. I went to see him, but his moods were still highly changeable. He got inconsolably angry and… he lashed out."

Rei could barely believe what she was hearing. She wanted to stay and ask a thousand questions, but the look Mako and Ami shared made her feel like she had melded back into the wall or become a piece of furniture. No matter how much she wanted to reach out to one of her longest-known comrades, now was not the time.

Presently she watched the tall brunette's hands go limp. Her hands fell from Ami's and she stumbled backwards into the cheap, plastic visitors' chair.

Ami took two small, tentative steps towards her, hands suspended momentarily in the air as she ached for the lost contact. "So you can't hurt him. It's not his fault."

She needn't have said it; Makoto felt suddenly exhausted, like the energy had been sucked straight out of her. "What… what's going to happen to you?"

"Please, Mako-chan, don't panic. I haven't even had the results back yet. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to start scrutinising my every move; worry whenever I wasn't acting like myself. As much as anything, it wouldn't be necessary – the symptoms are so dramatic that it would be obvious I was developing the illness. Major mood swings, outbursts of anger, paranoia, suicide attempts, nothing in the realms of normality-"

"Suicide?!" Mako cried out, devastated. Ami knew immediately that her doctoral alter-ego had gotten the better of her. She closed the distance between them. Even when the brunette was sitting, she was only a head higher than her. She placed her hand on her shoulder, kneeling unnecessarily, until the distance forced her grip to slip down to Makoto's forearm, fingers inching back towards the other girl's hand. Mako watched them. The touch of her smooth, pale skin was normally so static that she would almost jump back from it, relish and yet avoid it. Now, however, it was an overwhelming comfort. She just wanted to melt into it.

"I shouldn't have said that," Ami remarked apologetically. Mako's head was bowed, hidden away from her. She finally grabbed the other girl's hand with a courage she could barely believe was her own. The brunette met her gaze with rarely revealed uncertainty.

"Nothing's conclusive," Ami murmured. "As far as I know, I'm not displaying any symptoms. Dad's actions just unnerved my Mom, and now she's making the most of a few favours from ex-colleagues for some peace of mind. So stop worrying."

Makoto hands moved to clutch Ami's again, looking down at her with an adoring, lopsided smile. "Never."

Then a long wedge of light shone over them, and as the door squeaked shut, they remembered Rei, and realised that she was gone.


Outside, walking without her usual purpose, the stunned miko slowly made tracks back to Minako's room. She had witnessed that touching moment with a pang of longing, an utter need for Minako, but this was compromised by a conflicting emotion that she would have been elated by under any other circumstances.

Mako had just proven that she would never give up on Ami. Rei immediately recognised that feeling, having been consumed with it as she had held the sobbing blonde in her arms. What had failed to dawn on her until now, however, was a wonderful, dreadful notion: Minako would never give up on her, either.

Rei could explain to her why she had been hurt, force her to agree to separate, but Minako was still Minako. Not only did love drive her to the ends of the earth, but she actually saw the danger in romance as a welcome challenge; to her, obstacles were just a test of two people's feelings for one another. And considering Minako's bad luck in previous relationships, and how perfect they were for each other in their present one, it became clear that explaining things to Minako would only make her more determined – possibly more determined than she had ever been before. It could even get her killed.

"What's going on?"

Rei suddenly found herself where she was supposed to be. It was a shame; she had hoped for a few moments to compose herself; to simply to watch Minako, feel that loving gaze on her for longer, before it became wounded, reproachful; even loathing.

However, she hadn't had the time to calm down, caught dead in the middle of turmoil. As such, she ignored the blonde's question completely; she was pale, drowning in things she didn't want to say. She choked on the words, then spat them out as her conscience thumped her hard on the back.

"We can't do this anymore."

Minako's concerned frown deepened in confusion – everything had been fine when she left… why had she changed so suddenly?

"What do you mean? Why?"

"I-… do I need a reason?" Rei snapped. "It was just a bit of fun, and now it's time to stop it before we get too involved. It was a mistake from the start."

"You don't believe that?!" Minako jumped to her feet, eyes growing wide with shock. Rei felt them searching hers for truth. She didn't blink, looking directly back into the blue, and said firmly, "Yes, I do. I'm breaking up with you, Mina, that's all there is to it."

Minako's scoffed bitterly, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. "I thought you said there was nothing to break up."

Rei spun away, her own slip of the tongue jarring her, the effort of not crying taxing on her emotions. Nonetheless, she battled on through, managing a cold, cruel tone. "I suggest you find somewhere else to stay for a while. I don't want this to be any more awkward than it already is."

She stepped back towards the curtain. Before she left through the thin gap, she clung to the coarse green fabric in a moment of weakness and stopped. But it was too late to change anything now. "Goodbye, Minako."

As she walked away, she heard a quiet sob escape the blonde as she broke down. The sound echoed in her mind all the way through the corridors; a nagging, torturous reminder that she was a bitch and a coward, and that they were both alone and she had made it so – a fate she deserved, but her best friend did not.

Out, damn spot. Soon she was running from her guilt, moving past the turning heads of the curious but clueless, and then she was outside. It took only that blast of cool, summer night air for her to be free – her pride, her only friend, once again bubble-wrapped by solitude. In her mind she was six years old, alone and crying in her room after her mother's funeral, before the well of suppressed feelings finally collapsed, and she was shot through with a gaping hole even bigger than the one she had felt back then. She fell to her knees, clutching an unfamiliar organ to the left of her chest, silent tears streaming down her face as a pain hit her like no other. She began to wrack with the tears, with the horror of what she had done to both of them, and whispered a name into the night:

"Mina-chan…"


See? That wasn't a cliff-hanger. Eheh, well, not one with quite so much immediacy, at least… So, what do you think? R&R, everyone. You know I love ya! Sayonara!