Disclaimer: The characters of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z are not mine. They belong to their respective owners.

A/N: Sorry again for the delay T_T I've been so terrible lately!

Ripple Effect
Chapter IX: Truth

It had taken some time for Hotaru to settle enough to fall into slumber. The events of the day had caused her nerves to become frayed and her heart to thunder anxiously within her chest, but eventually exhaustion overtook her, plunging her into the darkness of her subconscious. Although Hotaru had fully expected to be greeted with the usual imagery of death and destruction that haunted her dreams most frequently as of late, it was this time that her expectations would not be met. As the blackened void that had initially welcomed her into her dream-state began to recede, a different kind of scene revealed itself to her.

Hotaru found herself standing inside of a building with walls constructed by stone masonry that was more common back in the middle ages than in modern times, and the presence of fire-lit torches throughout the circular-shaped room gave more credence to her suspicion that this room belonged more to the past than the present. The room was large enough to fit several hundred people comfortably with room yet to spare, and the ceiling above Hotaru towered far above her. There were no windows at all, with the torches providing the only luminance within the room.

Hotaru's gaze was eventually drawn towards the center of the room, resting upon a large gathering of cloak-wearing men that stood in a circular formation. The air was filled with their harmonious chanting that was in a language that Hotaru did not recognize but, for a reason beyond her understanding, she felt a sense of foreboding that made her want to cover her hands over her ears and run in the other direction.

"The preparations are nearly complete."

The voice was deep and unmistakably masculine, and the words were spoken sudden enough that caused Hotaru to start, clutching her hands to her chest to keep her thundering heart from breaking through her skin and turning her body towards the source. Hotaru's gaze immediately found a man who towered above every other person in the room who was completely adorned in golden armor from his helm down to his boots. The gear was polished and in excellent condition, though Hotaru had a feeling that the armor this man wore was not simply for ceremonial decoration. No, this man—Hotaru was certain—could hold his own in a fight if the occasion arose.

"You must be ecstatic."

There was no reason for Hotaru to seek out the owner of the second voice, although her eyes searched for it anyway. The tone of the voice sounded off to her, yet she knew that only to be so because the words had not been spoken from her own lips. Soon enough, Hotaru's gaze settled upon a woman who was unquestionably herself, seemingly small in comparison to the golden-adorned man that stood at her other-self's side. This was not an incarnation of herself that Hotaru immediately recognized, causing her to feel a deep confusion as to when and where this particular event had taken place.

It was not unfathomable to Hotaru that this could have been an event of the past that had been lost in the passage of time. Memories simply were not meant to stand the test of time, and this fact was truer when it came to someone like Hotaru who would be reincarnated after each death. The longer the existence, the higher the chance that memory fragmentation would occur and Hotaru knew that her existence was quite old.

This incarnation of Hotaru was someone that felt like a total stranger to her. Although the face the woman wore was most definitely hers and her height very much mirrored her own, the way this Hotaru spoke was in a tone as if all that listened were beneath her. She sounded emotionally detached, standing in a way that was most rigid and her eyes couldn't have had a colder look about them if they were made of ice. She was wearing a black gown that was adorned with jewels, the skirt of the dress billowing out around her legs with the bottom hem resting upon the stone floor beneath her. She wore black gloves made of lace that covered her arms up past her elbows, and a black choker was wrapped around her neck that had a large ruby jewel dangling from it, resting on her skin just below her neck.

"Ecstatic isn't the word that I would use in this situation," the golden-armored man informed her as he stared at the chanting men before them. "Relief is quite possibly the most adequate way to explain how I feel at this very moment."

"Well, you are getting just about everything you want out of this," the other-Hotaru remarked in a voice that revealed the annoyance she felt. She crossed her arms over her chest before glancing to the golden-armored man. "How long will it be before I get what I want, Warden?"

The Warden shrugged his shoulders. "A definite timetable is something I'm not capable of giving you as these things are determined by a power much greater than myself. However, I could give you an approximation, but it would only be that."

"So approximate," the other-Hotaru pressed impatiently. "It's not like I have the luxury of time here."

"It could be ten years, or it could be a hundred," the Warden surmised. "I doubt it would be in one or two. Yet, by my word as a Warden, I assure you that your desires will be realized in your very next incarnation."

The other-Hotaru rolled her eyes at the Warden's assurances. "Your word means absolutely nothing to me. I know to what extent you people will go to in order to uphold the so-called 'law and order' of this Universe. Had I not agreed to willingly sacrifice my life for the sake of your law and order, you would have simply taken it by force."

"I will not deny that to be the truth," the Warden informed her. "However, that being said, you should feel most fortunate that you are receiving anything at all in compensation for your sacrifice today. The ultimate power that you desire is not something given out without great deliberations."

This was not just any fragment of the past that Hotaru was witnessing, she suddenly realized. This was her original form, the form from which each of her incarnations since had been born from. Her rebirth cycle had likely begun sometime after this event, thanks the deal that was bartered between her past self and this Warden. It was no wonder this woman seemed so different from who Hotaru presently was; this woman was thirsty for a power that she did not yet have and had used whatever means she had at her disposal to convince others to give it to her. This woman wanted a terrifying power for a reason that Hotaru was not sure of, and it was that same terrifying power that made Hotaru feel that she was nothing more than a blight that should not exist.

Towards this woman, who had her every likeness and could easily be referred to as the mother of her soul, Hotaru felt only hatred. This original incarnation had damned her to an eternity of death and destruction, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again.

"What will you use that power for, I wonder?" the Warden pondered softly, loud enough for the other-Hotaru to hear but seeming unconcerned in receiving a truthful response from it. "History has the most terrible reputation of repeating itself, and it has been shown that those who receive great power would eventually abuse it."

The other-Hotaru remained silent, her eyes locked before her.

The Warden sighed, reaching behind him towards the scabbard that rested upon his back and grabbing on to the hilt of his sword. "I will warn you now, Princess. Should you abuse the power that you will one day be blessed with, you will end up in the same cage that he is about to be sealed into for eternity. You will live the rest of your meaningless existence swimming in a darkness that never ends, with only your thoughts and feelings to torment you until time no longer goes forward and space begins to collapse upon itself.

"If it is terror and chaos that you hope to spread, know that the memories of mortals are fickle at best and deteriorate with the passage of time," the Warden continued, slowly drawing his blade out of its sheath. "What history that shall eventually be written of you will soon fall into legend, and legend will descend to nothing more than a myth. Soon after, many will deny that you had ever existed at all."

The other-Hotaru blew out an air of irritation past her lips. "I don't care to be remembered; I only care for vengeance. The sooner you take my life from me, the sooner I can make those who have caused my suffering to experience every bit of pain and agony they have caused me."

It was obvious to the Warden that there was simply no reasoning with the other-Hotaru, so he merely released a defeated sigh in response. He moved then to stand before her, his armor clanking soundly with his every step. His gloved hand reached toward her, grasping firmly onto her small shoulder as he stared down at the much shorter girl.

"O God of Gods, hear our decree!" the Warden's voice loudly announced, raising his blade and aiming the tip of it directly at the other-Hotaru's heart. "It has been determined that your most sacred law has been broken, and it is by the power of the Wardens that the felon responsible must receive judgment! By the willing sacrifice of the felon's descendant, we pray that her blood shall bind him until eternity's end!"

The cloaked men ceased their chanting almost immediately at the Warden's words, turning to where the Warden and the other-Hotaru stood before shouting in unison, "By blood be bound!"

"By blood be bound," the Warden repeated, before plunging his blade deep into the other-Hotaru's chest.

X

Gasping loudly, Hotaru's violet eyes flew wide open and she abruptly sat up in Trunks's bed. One her hands flew to her chest immediately, resting over the area just above her heart—the area that she had just witnessed the Warden's sword plunge into. Her every breath came in shallow, quick pants and she found her hand trembling ever so slightly as it rested above her heart. It took her several moments to gather herself together, to recognize that she was no longer within the confines of her dream and had been returned to the conscious world. There were no more cloaked men speaking in a foreign chant, and the golden-armored Warden was nothing more than a memory of the past.

But, what was that? Hotaru sincerely believed what she had just dreamed to be the death of her very first incarnation, but what exactly had been going on there? 'By blood be bound'? For what reason did she need to be sacrificed? And what significance, if it held any significance at all, did it have to what had been going on in the present?

Hotaru felt more confused than ever.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Hotaru blinked her violet eyes in surprise that she was not exactly alone in Trunks's room, her gaze traveling over to the side of the bed to find the source of the innocently questioning voice. Beside the bed stood a little girl that could be no older than six years of age, her wide blue eyes intently staring at Hotaru as she waited to receive an answer. The little girl wore a dress that was colorful and unquestionably adorable on her, and her turquoise-colored hair was tied into a short ponytail at the top of her head.

A small smile inevitably pulled at the corners of Hotaru's lips as she recognized who the little girl was, knowing her more by reputation from what Trunks had spoken of her as she had never before met the little girl before today. "Don't worry, it's just a dream. You must be Bra, right?"

Bra's big blue eyes widened even more. "My big brother told you about me?" she asked in an astonished voice, beaming with excitement that Hotaru knew who she was.

"Of course he did; you are important to him, after all," Hotaru informed Bra, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and propping her hands up on the edge and leaning towards the little girl so she could better meet her gaze. "He didn't tell me you were so pretty, though."

Bra giggled in her giddiness at Hotaru's compliment. Hotaru's experience with younger children like Bra had been limited over the past few years, but it didn't take a genius to figure out how best to deal with children who had been born with every privilege that the world had to offer. The subject of Bra had come up quite often during the conversations Trunks had with Hotaru, but for the most part a lot of those conversations had more to do with the older brother venting about his annoying little sister and how his parents treated her like a precious little princess.

"Your name is Taru?" Bra asked. "Are you my brother's girlfriend?"

"Hotaru," she corrected the little girl. Hotaru felt suddenly anxious due to the inquiry of the state of her relationship with Trunks as there really hadn't been a discussion yet between the two of them to determine what label could be placed on their deepening relationship. However, Hotaru did not doubt that if the two of them were to continue down this path, being his girlfriend was a great possibility. In any case, Hotaru opted to ignore the second half of Bra's questioning. "Is your brother home?"

"He's in the gravity room with his father," a new voice answered suddenly as a taller, older woman entered Trunks's bedroom with her hands gripping on to a basket filled with freshly dried laundry. She had turquoise-colored hair like Bra that was cut short, the ends of her strands curling around to frame her face. "I hope my nosy daughter didn't wake you."

Hotaru felt her face getting hot, abruptly standing from Trunks's bed and straightening out her school uniform. She can't imagine how this woman—who was without a doubt Trunks's mother—could have interpreted her presence in her son's bedroom. Although Bulma Briefs did not show any outward signs of displeasure at Hotaru's presence in her eldest son's bedroom, Hotaru hoped she hadn't left a negative first impression on the older woman.

Nervously, Hotaru tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her ear and stepped towards Bulma. "She didn't wake me. Do you need help…?"

"Don't you dare," Bulma told the violet-eyed girl in a firm voice as she set the basket down on the floor next to Trunks's closet. "You are a guest in my home and I'll be damned if I have you put away my lazy son's laundry. It's bad enough his clothes don't find the hamper most of the time."

"I can believe it," Hotaru agreed with a small laugh bubbling out of her throat, feeling some of the anxiousness she felt dissipating. "Anyway, you said Trunks was in the gravity room? Is he sparring with his father?"

Trunks had explained only a few times what the gravity room was and what it was used for. The gravity room simulated gravity levels that were much greater than what was experienced on Earth, which made the room most preferable when it came to training. The elevated gravity levels increased a fighter's overall strength and mobility, and those who chose to spar in such an environment found that their overall powers became amplified as well. As Hotaru was not physically strong, she doubted that she could ever endure the environment within the gravity room.

"Yup, you want to watch?"

The look of surprise was obvious on Hotaru's face, her violet eyes widening. "Would that be okay?"

"I don't mind," Bulma assured her, "but I won't lie to you that it's hard to watch at first. Watching my husband and my son beating each other until they're nearly broken isn't my idea of a good time, but it is interesting to watch. It gives an appreciation of what their genes make them capable of, which is kind of cool and a little bit frightening."

Hotaru felt slightly hesitant, but the curiosity of watching Trunks train and the desire to see the lavender-haired boy again was certainly getting the better of her. "Show me the way, please."

X

Training with his father had always been something that Trunks had done begrudgingly, likening the act more as a chore that was as enjoyable as washing the dishes or cleaning his room. Regardless of how many times he sparred with his father, Vegeta would always have the upper hand due to his years of experience and his forever calculating mind that was wired for battle. Vegeta was able to separate the fact that Trunks was his son, making the older Saiyan capable of going at his son with full force. Trunks, on the other hand, had constantly failed at separating his emotions when it came to sparring with his father, leaving him on the losing end every single time. More often than not, Trunks would find himself pulling his punches when he found an opening on his father.

That is not to say that Trunks completely disliked the act of sparring altogether. Perhaps it was in this way that he was a slave to the DNA that he received from his father which he found a sick enjoyment out of fighting in general. Although he had no desire to truly harm his father, Trunks could not help the pleasure he received while immersed in combat, the blood rushing through his veins and giving him a high that could not be compared with anything else. Being just fast enough to dodge an assault made Trunks feel thrilled, and inflicting injury upon his father made his Saiyan side swell with pride.

Still, Trunks's human side refused to be forgotten, never failing to make the lavender haired boy feel a slight sting of guilt for having enjoyed acting like a heartless beast. There was no denying that the two sides of him—human and Saiyan—conflicted quite often, especially in moments where he was attempting to indulge more in one side than the other. It was more than difficult to find a happy medium that satisfied the two, and more frequently than not, Trunks just became angered at his own frustrations.

Yet, this time, his human side remained silent as Trunks threw punch after punch at his father as a bright fire of determination burned within him like never before. He had to get stronger, and this was one of the few means of obtaining that goal. If Haruka's deductions were true and Hotaru had been lured to his world, he wanted to be more than strong enough to protect Hotaru from any enemies that would surface to cause harm to her.

Hotaru was his, and Trunks was not going to let anyone take her from him. He wanted to prove to Hotaru, prove to Haruka and the others, and prove to himself that he was more than capable of taking care of the violet eyed girl.

"Pay attention," Vegeta suddenly commanded his son, his ebony eyes narrowed in a glare towards his eldest child. "If you let your attention drift in a real battle, you will be dead in an instant."

Trunks merely snorted in response, launching himself at his father for another attack. He threw his fist at his father without restraint, but found his punch easily caught within the larger hand of his father. Irritated, Trunks yanked his hand free from his father's grasp and spun his body around, tossing a forceful kick towards the direction of his father's head. Yet, just like the punch, Vegeta merely raised his arm and blocked the kick with his forearm with ease, casting a bored look towards his son.

"I know I've taught you better than this," Vegeta sighed. "You need to forget everything else but this fight. Nothing else matters; not this planet or the people on it, not your family, not even that girl you seemed to have become so enamored with. If you focus too much on such liabilities, it will be used against you."

"Shut up!" Trunks growled at his father, leaping back and gliding through the air. His feet landed on the floor on the other side of the room, his blue eyes narrowed in fury at his father. The only reason why he willingly set foot in the gravity room today was for Hotaru, and he wasn't about to forget about it. Trunks believed that the desire to protect someone would empower him, not hinder him, and he sincerely believed his father to be wrong in this respect.

Trunks dashed through the gravity room towards his father, ignoring the burn that seared through his calves as the weight of the intense gravity let itself become more known as time transpired within the room. He concentrated on gathering his energy into his right hand, using his ki to form a large round ball that he believed would be enough to incur some damage on to Vegeta whether he successfully blocked it or not. He wanted to show his father how powerful he could be when it came to desiring to protect someone that he had come to care greatly for, and that it would be enough to surpass him after many years of trying.

Yet, Trunks's attention became unfocused as he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He glanced to the only window in the room, made with strong and thick glass in order to withstand the environment within the gravity room, and saw that an audience had gathered just outside of the room. His mother stood there with a worried look on her face, holding his little sister in her arms as they watched the match. Beside his mother was Hotaru, the object of his every thought and desire. She tried not to look worried in the same way she tried not to trouble anyone with her problems, but her violet eyes revealed to what extent she feared for him.

Trunks faltered, and Vegeta took clear advantage. Within an instant, the full-blooded Saiyan appeared behind his eldest child and wrapped his hands around the boy's upper arms with a vice-like grip. Using his weight and strength, Vegeta threw his son face-down on to the floor forcefully enough to cause the tile beneath Trunks's body to shatter, causing the ki that had gathered within his hand to completely dissipate. With his blue eyes shut as a new wave of pain hit him, Trunks mentally cursed himself for having gotten distracted at such a pivotal moment.

Silently, Vegeta straddled Trunks's mid-back and stared down at his son in annoyance before he stood, walking over to the center of the gravity room where the controls resided. After pressing his fingers against a few buttons on the panel, the gravity within the room was turned off, and the machine humming soundly before it fell quiet.

"Distraction means death on the battlefield, boy," Vegeta informed his son as he walked towards the exit of the gravity room. "Until you're able to shut off those human thoughts and emotions while you're in the midst of a fight, you'll never surpass me. We'll do this again later when the distractions aren't so evident."

"Go to hell," Trunks muttered into the broken tile beneath him. He continued to linger on the floor until he heard the mechanical door slide open and listened to his father's footsteps take him out of the gravity room. Gradually, Trunks pushed himself up on to all fours and remained that way for a few moments, staring down at the floor that was shattered underneath him and the small pool of blood that was collected there. Inquisitively, Trunks reached up to his forehead and ran his hand along it, grimacing slightly as he felt the warm liquid of blood and the presence of a gaping wound on his forehead.

"Great," he sighed as he pushed himself up to his feet, sparing a glance over to the window where his mother, sister, and Hotaru lingered. His defeat was terribly embarrassing, especially in front of Hotaru. Appearing weak in front of anyone was awkward enough, but to lose a fight with his father in front of her made him feel reluctant to leave the gravity room. It was hard enough facing her through a thick pane of glass, and he knew it would be so much more to face his loss in front of her.

'Be a man,' Trunks told himself before he dragged himself towards the exit of the gravity room. He hesitated before the mechanical door before he reached forward to press a button located on the wall next to it, causing the door to slide open. He crossed the threshold and exited the gravity room, the door sliding soundly shut behind him. His eyes lingered on the floor in front of his feet for a few moments before he looked over to his family and Hotaru, a small and forced smile appearing on his lips.

"Sorry you had to see that," Trunks apologized. He honestly didn't know what else to say about what transpired within the gravity room. He didn't want to admit that Hotaru's presence had distracted him, but it did. Anytime she was around, his attention immediately went to her and everything else was but a distant memory. In this respect, he could not deny that his father was right; the distraction would be dangerous if he were in a real battle. However, Trunks doubted that his attentions would be so easily swayed if he was in the midst of a true fight.

He needed to get his shit together, or else he wouldn't be able to protect anyone, let alone Hotaru.

"You're hurt," Hotaru observed with a small frown, leaving Bulma's side to stand in front of Trunks. She leaned forward slightly to have a better look on the wound on his forehead. It was likely superficial, but like most head wounds, even the shallow ones bled like no other.

Trunks shrugged. "It doesn't even really hurt that bad to be honest," he admitted. No, it was the shame of how he got the wound that hurt a lot more than the slight stinging of pain the wound caused him.

"You're so stubborn," Hotaru sighed, reaching her hand up towards Trunks's wound. "Let me take care of it-"

Abruptly, Trunks's hand snapped out and grasped on to Hotaru's wrist, pulling it away from his face before that familiar faint violet light could even manifest. "Are you crazy?! What are you doing? Did you forget what happened to you the last time you healed a wound?"

Hotaru stared at Trunks, surprised at his sudden reaction to her wanting to heal his wound. Of course she hadn't forgotten what had happened when she had healed Mara's wound, but the situation then had been entirely different. "Cuts like this are no problem for me," she informed him. "Mara was bleeding out and was about to die. Fatal wounds take a lot more energy to heal than something like this, Trunks."

"I don't care," Trunks growled low before glancing over to his mother and sister. "Mom, can you give us a moment alone, please?"

A worried look remained on his mother's features, but after a moment she nodded her head silently before she carried Bra out of the room, allowing the two teenagers the privacy that her son requested.

"What's your problem?" Hotaru asked in an annoyed tone, her arms crossing over her chest as she narrowed her violet eyes at Trunks. "Why are you so against me healing you?"

"Because I'm not going to be a reason why you pass out cold on the floor," Trunks told her. "It was frightening enough the first time when I didn't know what the hell it was going on, and now—with you and I—I'm not going to let you do anything even remotely risky."

The features on Hotaru's face twisted from mere annoyance to borderline fury. "I'm not some porcelain doll that's going to break if you drop it. I know the extent of my powers, Trunks. Healing a wound like that isn't risky, and I would rather you be out of pain than worry about the consequences of using my powers."

"I told you it doesn't even really hurt," Trunks reminded her with a sigh, running his hand through his short lavender hair in frustration. "Can we drop this, or is it really so bad that all I want to do is protect you?"

As quickly as the anger appeared on Hotaru's face, it immediately faded at Trunks's words. "There's a difference between protecting me and being overbearing."

Trunks snorted in amusement. "You think I'm being overprotective?"

"Just a bit," Hotaru admitted, a small smile pulling at her lips.

Trunks smiled fully at the violet-eyed girl, the urge to reach out and touch her face becoming difficult to ignore. He could not possibly express to her how precious she was becoming to him, and the thought of her hurt at all was something that he did not want to comprehend. Still, there were things that he had to admit to her, and he wondered if she would become angry at him for it.

"I went to your house today," Trunks confessed suddenly, averting his gaze away from Hotaru. "I met and talked with your family."

Again, the emotions on Hotaru's face shifted, and this time it was to confusion. Her ebony eyebrows drew together and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she fought to understand what exactly Trunks had just told her. "…What? Why on earth would you do that?"

"To figure things out and to get everyone on a common ground," Trunks informed her. "I don't think you and your family can afford to be at odds right now. There's so much going on here, and everything seems to lead back to you. We all agree that whatever is happening behind the scenes, it's you that they're after."

"Why is that?" Hotaru asked, obviously unwilling to accept the conclusion that the others had settled upon. "Is this because of those files that you found of me at Capsule Corporation, because if that's all you have to rest your case on, that's purely circumstantial-"

"Someone bearing the same name and face of your mother was employed at Capsule Corporation until very recently."

In an instant, the entire world—and even time itself—seemed to stop. Hotaru stood there, her eyes wide and her mouth agape as her mind attempted to process the information that she had just been told. Denial was the most prominent emotion Hotaru felt at first, unwilling to believe that what Trunks told her was anything close to the truth. Hotaru found her head shaking back and forth, unable to form the words to vocally reject what Trunks had told her. There was no possible way that her mother was here, on a world beyond the tendrils of time and space, and had been working at the company owned by Trunks's family.

Her mother was dead. Her body had been incinerated in the fire that had nearly cost Hotaru her own life and caused her father to spiral down into madness.

"It can't be, it just can't be," Hotaru whispered. "It has to be a coincidence."

"Coincidences don't happen for people like us, Hotaru," Trunks informed her in a melancholy voice, taking a few steps towards her. He reached his hands out to grab on to her upper arms gently, squeezing his hands ever so gently. "You know that better than I do."

Hotaru fell silent again, allowing her mind time to process everything. Her mother had been employed at Capsule Corporation, and there were files upon files that existed about her on those computers. A sickening feeling seized her then, her stomach twisting in every way possible to make her feel close to nausea, and her violet eyes glanced up through her bangs to stare up at Trunks.

"Is my mother—or the thing that looks like my mother—orchestrating all of this?" Hotaru hesitantly asked, although she was not certain that she wanted to receive an answer to her question.

"We don't know for certain," Trunks acknowledged. "We don't have enough information about that, but what we know is that whoever is behind what is going on with your world and mine has their sights on you. We don't know why, and we don't know what for, but all of us agree that you need to be protected at all costs."

You have to die. This is what will happen to your world in the near future should the current course remained unchanged. Whether by your will or not, you are the catalyst which will bring about the ruin of this world, Sailor Saturn. As long as you are alive, this will certainly be the world's future. It will perish in violent cataclysm, and it will be absolute.

Oh my god, Hotaru thought as her trembling hand reached up to cover her open mouth, her eyes wide in realization. Her dreams had warned her that she would bring about the end, and she had not headed the warning given to her. She pressed on, just as the orchestrators had hoped she would, and now she had delivered herself into their hands far too easily.

"Hotaru?" the worry was thick in Trunks's voice, giving her upper arms another squeeze. "Are you all right?"

It has been determined that your most sacred law has been broken, and it is by the power of the Wardens that the felon responsible must receive judgment! By the willing sacrifice of the felon's descendant, we pray that her blood shall bind him until eternity's end!

The reason for her having been lured here had already been revealed to her. Hotaru was a catalyst, the primary ingredient to releasing a seal that the original incarnation had sacrificed her life to create in the distant past. It was a seal meant to never be unbroken as, under normal circumstances, Hotaru would have never come to this world unless something caused her to go there. Whether it was because of pride or due to becoming placated from years of peace, Hotaru was bringing about an end to her own future.

You have to die.

'No,' Hotaru thought, a wave of nausea overcoming her as she felt she could become physically ill at any moment. Death was not something she wished for, not in this lifetime and certainly not now. She had a family that loved her, regardless of the fact of how angry they had made her that morning. She had met a wonderful boy who she had come to greatly care for, and he reciprocated those feelings as well. Although it was possible that her blood could release a seal which likely held someone terrifyingly strong, there had to be some other way to stop it that did not require her death at the end.

"Hotaru," Trunks called out to her again. "Tell me what's going on."

"I…" Hotaru really didn't know what to tell Trunks. While her thoughts were frantic, she knew well enough that telling him that as long as she was breathing would cause Trunks to react in panicked anger. Trunks was worried about Hotaru using her powers of healing on a simple wound, and to tell him that she would likely have to die in order for some seal—which held someone or something yet to be identified—to remain unbroken would cause him to become even more overbearing than he already was. Of course Hotaru couldn't blame him; she would react in very much the same way if it were him in this situation.

Then, what was it that Hotaru could do? Time was no luxury of hers, and if it was her life that they sought to break a seal, they would eventually resort to any means necessary to obtain it. Still, Hotaru did not have a death wish; even though the selfless thing would be to take her own life for the sake of the future that was a road she was not yet willing to cross.

Finally, Hotaru looked up to Trunks, reaching her shaking hand up to set her hand over the lavender-haired boy's heart which thundered in his chest. The feeling of his heartbeat did well to anchor her emotions back into enough of a stable place that she could think lucidly again, although the next words she spoke were just as uneven as the hand that lingered on Trunks's chest.

"I know why they want me."

A/N: Please review, I will try to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later, but no guarantees T_T.

~kusari~