Ascension
Chapter 10: Scheherazade
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Bleach.
Ami was trying to keep her cool. Ichigo and the Arrancar fought swiftly above them, taking the pressure of the foe away from her injured comrades. Their clashes resounded along the street as they collided at impossible speeds, Ichigo releasing abilities Ami had never seen before. She helped Minako sit up and glanced to the sky, watching as they connected overhead. The force of their strikes caused Ami's hair to ruffle, light strands of blue clouding her eyes as she helped Minako stand.
"Let's get you out of here Minako. Are you OK to walk?"
The blonde was not paying attention to Ami's consoling words. Her eyes desperately searched the ground. Minako stumbled around the rubble, pale and shaking. "My ribbon…" she murmured hoarsely as she got back on her knees and fumbled with loose stones, crawling around in search of her iconic hairpiece. Eyes wide she rummaged like a woman spellbound. She could take him strangling her, she could take him using her as bait, but Minako Aino would not condone the carelessness he imparted on her most treasured item.
Ami wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to coddle Minako but the current moment was not appropriate for the acquisition of prized possessions. Deciding to be stern, Ami reached down and grabbed Minako's arm, yanking the girl to her feet. "Not now Minako, we need to get Rei and Makoto and leave!" she said forcefully, choosing not to acknowledge the weakly incredulous look Minako gave her.
Ami dragged the blonde over to her huddled companions and let go of her arm, kneeling next to Rei. She put a hand to Makoto's feverish forehead. "How is she, what happened?"
Rei shook her head. "I don't know," she replied, "but I think she's unconscious."
Makoto's entire body was pale. Her skin glistened with a sickly sweat and her body curled into a defensive ball, hand still clutching relentlessly at her heart. The febrile tremors that racked her frame were small enough shivers to convince Ami that she wasn't seizing.
"It just happened when he touched her," Rei continued when the silence persisted. "She mentioned something about her heart."
Makoto's eyes flittered restlessly beneath their lids and then squeezed tightly. She shrieked suddenly in her unconscious state and the hand that grappled at her heart suddenly clamped down and clutched tightly.
"Ok," Ami decided quickly, having seen enough. "We need to get her to Urahara's shop. Ishida," she said, turning to the focused boy garbed in all white. She wasn't quite sure when or how he'd arrived but she was glad he was there. He looked to her in anticipation. "Can you carry her?"
Ishida nodded and placed his hands under Makoto's back and knees, scooping the girl up into his arms.
"Rei and I will go in front. Minako," she turned, expecting to face the blonde, "you'll follow right—Minako?" Ami's eyes widened as she searched frantically for her friend, turning any which way in hopes of sighting her. "Minako?" Silence answered her.
Minako was nowhere to be found.
When Grimmjow had forced Ichigo to access his Bankai, the young boy cursed in frustration. He had no problem going through with the motions but trepidation tickled the back of his mind. The Espada was fast and cunning, easily defending Ichigo's less tactical advances.
"I thought I told you not to go easy on me?" Grimmjow growled through his teeth, catching Ichigo's sword in his hand like it was nothing. He threw the boy backwards and Ichigo tumbled through the sky, skidding to a halt in mid air.
Blood painted his face and splattered across his hakama as Grimmjow reappeared and delivered a spinning kick to his head. Ichigo blocked the next advance that threw him even farther away. He didn't wait for the dust to settle. He knew he had to access more of his power if he was going to survive the fight. He just hoped that his dark passenger, the one who's calls had become louder and louder, would let him remain in control of his body.
"Getsuga Tenshou!"
A black whip of reaitsu lashed towards Grimmjow and struck the Espada in the chest. The surprise he felt was combated only by his elation at the sudden spike in Ichigo's power. Aizen had sent him here on a mission but Grimmjow no longer cared about that. His bloodlust seeped out of his very pores at the potential grandeur of this fight.
A wild smile slowly took over his face as he watched the Shinigami place a hand to his eye.
Ichigo felt himself losing control. The use of his power was necessary but he'd hoped the repercussion wouldn't have been this instantaneous. He bared his teeth in a growl as he pressed his hand tighter to his eye. He knew a black ink-like color was filtering over his sclera and a golden hue was inching into his iris. If he could just repress it for a little longer…
Grimmjow let loose a howl of laughter, holding his hands out and leaning back in maniacal glee. "Finally!" he screeched, "I was beginning to think you were a pathetic piece of trash!" He looked down to his chest where a long and jagged pink scar had formed and then down to Ichigo, who'd landed on the street. "Let's see what other tricks you have up your sleeve!" Grimmjow drew his Zanpakuto and darted towards the struggling Ichigo.
He pulled his hand away from his eye and tried to reign in his inner turmoil as Grimmjow approached him on the ground. His body tensed, ready for the impact, when a mass of something golden shielded his view.
Ichigo's eyes flew open wide as Minako took the brunt of Grimmjow's advancement. She skid along the street, sword positioned in front of her face in defense. Grimmjow held a similar look of appraisal as he stared at her between their clashing swords. His feral grin quickly replaced it.
"Little girls don't belong on the battlefield!" he laughed, pushing down on her with his sword.
Minako struggled to match his strength. She bared her teeth and glared back at him, ignoring Ichigo's protests to her right. Yellow met blue in a ferocious battle; his eyes filled with mirth at her puny attempt and her eyes crazy with fury.
"You stole my ribbon," she growled and he laughed, reaching forwards and striking her arm. She reached over to combat his next attack but he was too fast. His Zanpakuto went into her side.
Minako's eyes bulged. A roaring pain seared through her oblique as the pointed end of his sword shone mercilessly with her blood. He laughed at her weakness and pulled the Zanpakuto from her side, a spray of blood following it in its wake.
Grimmjow watched her shiver in pain and delighted in the angered look on her face. He languidly wiped her blood off on his shoulder as she gripped her side. Blood oozed from between her fingers and down her body as Minako struggled for breath.
"It's cute," he said, licking the tip of his sword to clean off the last of her blood. "Women trying to fight…" Grimmjow laughed as a smirk grew on Minako's lips.
"I wouldn't underestimate me," she growled, voice laced with both pain and excitement. Her eyes squinted with amusement at his cockiness and she waited for the opportune moment to make her ability known.
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, pointing the tip of his sword at her nose. "Says the woman about to die—"
His eyes widened in surprise as his shoulder suddenly erupted in a geyser of blood. Grimmjow took a step back with his hand to the long wound, pained and curious as to what had happened. The sticky, red substance coated his hand as another searing pain ripped at his shoulder, almost rendering the limb useless. He growled at her as Ichigo suddenly appeared beside her, sword poised in protection.
Minako sunk fully to the ground, collapsing to her knees in agony and glad that even a tired and wounded Ichigo was there to help her. She smirked.
"I don't know what you're made of, seeing as how it didn't work on you like it did normal humans," she began, pressing both hands now to the flowing wound at her side, "but when you idiotically wiped my blood on your shoulder I knew it would work."
"What was that you wench?" Grimmjow snarled as the pressure around him began to double.
"Metal," Minako grinned. "You wiped all of my iron ridden blood on your shoulder you dumbass," she laughed and then wheezed painfully, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. She gripped her sword tightly in her hand and pushed herself shakily to her feet. "Now give me back my ribbon," she sneered, spitting the dark liquid at his feet.
"What ribbon?" he growled, launching himself at her in annoyance. Ichigo parried the blow in protection and pushed the Sexta Espada back.
Grimmjow smirked and pointed his finger towards them, a ball of red light forming at its tip. "Who cares about a fucking ribbon," he jeered as his teeth bore brightly in a smile.
Ichigo's eyes widened. He knew he'd be able to escape the blast but Minako surely wouldn't skate by. He had leaned down to pick her up when someone else grabbed Grimmjow's arm and shoulder in a vice like grip.
Grimmjow winced as the building cero dissipated. He peeked over his shoulder at the blind man who held him down. "Tousen," he announced and then growled angrily. "What the hell are you—?!"
"Aizen-sama has asked that you not kill them…yet," Tousen said softly to him, a large garganta opening behind them. "All of your comrades have perished, your mission is complete. It is time to return."
Ichigo watched in amazement as the former captain walked slowly towards the dimensional gap. Minako stood weakly and glared at Grimmjow's growling form. With his unharmed arm he pointed to her.
Grimmjow gave a tsk. "Remember my name little girl for when I, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, am able, you're dead," he promised, following Tousen to the garganta, the haphazard cuts in the dimension pausing open like a mouth. Slowly the mouth began to close.
Minako clenched her fist and glared at his disappearing face, making solid eye contact. "Not if I kill you first."
The garganta closed tightly and Grimmjow was left staring at the night sky of Hueco Mundo. Her threat echoed in his head as he looked to his shoulder in annoyance. The pestering sting of her attack persisted despite his pain tolerance. It was like a paper cut on a grander scale.
"Aizen-sama has requested your audience immediately," Tousen announced as he walked steadily through the silent halls of Las Noches.
The Sexta Espada did not immediately follow. He reached behind him into the waist of his pants and withdrew a long, red ribbon. He held it up and inspected it. A sweet scent like washed hair wafted from its threads and he inhaled deeply. Such a delicate freshness was not abundant in Hueco Mundo.
Why had she been so up in arms about losing this item? He clenched the ribbon in his hand and followed lazily behind the gliding ex-captain. Such a strange reverence humans had for material things.
The scent permeated his nostrils once again and Grimmjow twirled it around his hand, the red of the ribbon shiny against the matte red of the blood that stained his palm.
"And why does Aizen-sama need this again?" he asked, curious as to the importance of the frivolous item.
"That is none of your concern," Tousen responded placidly over his shoulder. He considered Grimmjow the scourge of the Espada, despite the whole groups unruly, miserable existence. He was the most lamentable when it came to orders and the most rotten when it came to respect.
Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders and stopped, stuffing the ribbon into his pocket. "Alright," he said, turning to depart in the opposite direction. "I guess I'll just keep it then." He waved over his shoulder as Tousen blindly eyed his retreating form.
There was little use causing a ruckus seeing as how Aizen had demanded that Grimmjow retrieve the item. He had actually never told Tousen what the ribbon was for, only that it was imperative it be in Hueco Mundo.
Tousen did not like not knowing the extent of Aizen-sama's plans but would still follow the man to the end of the earth.
Grimmjow's footsteps padded farther and farther away as Tousen turned and continued in the direction of Aizen's throne room.
Makoto remained sickly for almost a week. Minako took less time to heal but her infuriation and dubiety at the thievery of her ribbon persisted far longer.
"Are you sure they stole it?" Ami could remember asking her, not sure the item had been taken so much as lost.
"There's no doubt in my mind," Minako had responded irritably. Ami knew she felt bereft without the ribbon as she used an extra one from Orihime to placate the naked feeling.
As Minako had been healing and in a tepid mood that insinuated perpetual PMS, Rei had pulled Ami aside. Ami could remember the building headache she felt as Rei mentioned the clandestine meeting between Urahara and Yoruichi. She mentioned mysterious questions such as "did you find it?" and the abdicated "as long as Aizen doesn't…"
Ami sighed as she swung moderately back and forth. Her feet dragged two cragged lines into the woodchips as she grabbed the chains of the swing and leaned forward to groan. She'd made up an excuse after school that she left something at Urahara's but when she approached the shop, she had walked deftly past it.
Her wending feet had taken her to a park, abandoned of children but eerily silent in its stillness. Ami hadn't minded, seeing has how she'd wandered away in search of much needed quiet, no matter how stagnant.
She'd plopped down heavily on a chattering swing as a gentle zephyr ruffled her hair and the bow on her uniform. The harmony created by the psithurism of tree leaves and the clamorous clink of the swing chains drowned out her second sigh. Given their current situation Ami was beginning to feel the pressure of being the "smart one." She was the gentlest of the Senshi, she knew that, but it was becoming laborious to repress her frustration. Usually she thrived on being the one people came to for help but the sheer velocity of inquiries and their consistency made her weary.
"Tired?"
His voice cut through her globe of tranquility like a piercing shock. Ami held back a growl as she squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the swing chains tightly.
"What do you want?" she barked, not at all embarrassed of abandoning her usual demure demeanor.
Urahara had the decency to look surprised before the brief and uncharacteristic expression melted into a knowing one. "I expected as much," he responded gentler, taking a seat on the swing next to her. It was an awkward sight; her sitting like a disgruntled child and him so mature and grown but tangled in the bundle of his robes.
No matter how silent he was, Ami's ire grew by his sheer proximity. His embodied smugness emanated from his very being and infected her, keeping her disdain for him alive. How did he even find her?
"I saw you walk past the shop," he mumbled as if reading her mind, and Ami briefly wondered if he actually possessed that ability—something she wouldn't put past him. "Are you trying to escape everyone?"
"What's it to you?"
Urahara lowered his eyes slowly from the sky and raised an eyebrow in her direction. He'd called long ago that Ami would be the most important member of their group and it seemed that the realization was weighing her down. "You don't handle pressure well," he prodded, hoping to get a rise out of her.
It worked.
Ami launched from the swing and the chains jangled with her abrupt desertion. She palmed Urahara's chest and shoved as hard as she could, causing his body to lurch backwards as he grabbed the chains for stability. She could tell he'd let her do it. Urahara was a man of abundant mysterious power, a shove from a frustrated teenager was not an unforeseeable assault.
She did manage to look briefly shaken by her amateur outburst but clumsily gathered herself in a façade of nonchalance. "I handle pressure expertly."
Urahara's mouth made a little 'O' as he stared at her wide-eyed. "Oh yes, cleeeeearly," he chuckled gaily. He was the recipient of another shove that actually surprised him, but not so much that he wasn't able to grab her retreating wrists.
Stuck in his grasp Ami's face flushed with annoyance as his usual jocular smirk faded. The shadows of his hat sparked a sudden seriousness in his eyes but Ami was neither afraid nor intimidated.
"Let me guess," Urahara hissed lowly, "you're sick of everyone asking you for answers, you're sick of being the altruistic one, you're sick of covering up for your friends or trying to placate their pathetic tempers."
Ami glared hard at him, not the least bit put off by his words. "So what if I am," she responded succinctly.
Urahara let go of her hands and flashed his palms outwards with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh Ami, when will you learn?" he artfully acted, resting his hands on his cane. "You'll never be able to control them, they'll never see as many steps ahead as you do, they'll never understand why you try to calm them down—especially dear Makoto-san."
Ami crossed her arms and snorted, maintaining their eye contact. She didn't care what he thought of Makoto's rashness. It was a characteristic that suited her despite how it may have irked Ami time to time. "Makoto avoids dying by brute strength and quick reflexes. I stave off death like Scheherazade."
Urahara eyed her admiringly for a split second before his burgeoning smile blossomed into something playful. "And so you do!" he said appreciatively, standing from the swing and opening his fan. He hid whatever smile now captivated his lips behind its expanse but Ami could tell by the look in his eyes that it had taken a more sinister vibe.
"I'm not afraid of you, Urahara," Ami blurted, no longer able to hold back her suspicion of him. "You're no hero."
His eyebrows raised questioningly at her as his head cocked slightly to the side. "What ever gave you the impression that I might be?"
"You feign a great 'good guy' but you're poisoned, you're the corroded link in the chain," she spat. A tense silence hovered between them before Ami spoke again. "I know what you did to Rukia."
Urahara watched her, the wheels in his mind clearly turning. Suddenly his fan snapped shut, the tiny crack almost making Ami jump as he began to walk towards her. Ami took a step back, not sure what his advancement entailed, but not ready for whatever confrontation was to come.
Urahara stopped walking, a small gap of woodchips between them. She was like a kitten he was trying to approach; he was trying to be gentle but any encroachment was fowl and suspicious. He watched her carefully, studious eyes boring into her own. When the girls had first arrived he figured that she was a lot like him, an abnormally smart warrior miles ahead of everyone else. But experiencing the way she approached battle and how she spoke of her mission caused Urahara to shortly acknowledge the sour part of his soul. They were far more different than his first presumption.
He chuckled and twiddled his cane idly, eyeing the flurry of scattering woodchips at his sandaled feet. "Oh Ami," he said, voice full of mirth, "you and your friends uphold a dignity of cloying sweetness that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of preservation."
His veiled chide caused her glare to harden. "What deep charientism," she mocked, calling him out for the supposed compliment that was clouded craftily by actuality in insult.
He grinned at her repartee and shrugged.
"Rei heard you and Yoruichi," Ami said out of nowhere. The off-topic branch of her statement didn't necessarily catch him off guard.
"Mmm, yes," he responded. "She's not the best at eavesdropping." Urahara smiled. "Well Ami-san, as much as your distrust for me has been a fun game to exploit, I think it's time to remedy our apathetic relationship."
Ami was not having any of it. Facing his perpetual sang-froid was leading her to believe that Urahara held numerous keys to numerous things—one of them being their current debacle. "And how do you propose we do that?" she asked.
Urahara disappeared and reappeared right next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. Ami's body tensed as he leaned down and his lips hovered inches away from her ear. His whisper caused shivers to course through her, a feeling more girlish and timid than she'd like sweeping over her body.
"I think it's time I told you a little secret…"
Just watching her made Mamoru sick. Usagi shivered on the couch, forehead glistening with sweat. She was the palest she'd ever been, a pallid complexion marked by weary bags under her eyes. She coughed once, a deep rumble from her lungs, and reached distractedly for the glass of water on the table.
Her eyes remained glued to the TV screen while his eyes remained glued to her.
For the first time in a long time Mamoru was scared.
Almost a week ago marked the first time that Aizen had infected Usagi while she'd been awake. He could remember the moment like it was yesterday: They had been walking with Haruka and Michiru, two faces seen far more regularly than they'd ever been, when Usagi had merely stopped walking and fallen to the ground. Her eyes remained open, glazed over in a haze, but she was lifeless and cold. He knew it was no ordinary affliction based on the fact that her lips twitched, muttering those Spanish words.
Mamoru felt helpless. There was nothing he could do for her, there was no way he could protect her from her very mind. He'd thought of anything and everything but he wasn't sold on his theories. He was lucky that they'd moved her into Haruka and Michiru's place as her school was on a break. Setsuna was surprisingly adept at calming Usagi down when her mind was being attacked.
Mamoru had noticed tell tale signs of impending assaults: she'd shiver heavily, look nauseous for a brief moment, and then her colorless cheeks would become flush with red—all signs she had just started to exhibit. He gulped and his heart thudded in his chest as he watched a blush filter in on her cheeks. Usagi turned to him, eyes wide with fright as she reached out a trembling hand. The blanket he'd cocooned her in slipped from her shoulders.
"Mam—" And she was out.
It was like all of the lights went off in her head, like a machine powering down after some outage. She flopped forward and Mamoru caught her sickly body, her frailty daunting in his hands. "Usako!" he cried, wiping her brow but he knew it would be no use. Her half lidded eyes were glazed with that glassy, unseeing countenance. "Setsuna!" he called as he heard a multitude of thudding footsteps on the upper floor of the house.
So filled with sadness and rage Mamoru thought to put one of his theories to test. He rested her head back on the pillow and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. His shaking hands gripped her temples, her cold and clammy skin causing his heart to race. A golden glow emanated from his palms, the warmth of his healing power spreading across his skin and her own.
He knew it was dangerous to attempt to heal a mind but Mamoru felt he was left with no other options. The walls around him began to cave in as his vision blurred. Expensive paintings melted off of the walls as the surrounding accouterments became a mottled jumble of molten images. His breath quickened as a heaviness consumed his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe easily. And suddenly the whole house was gone. Despite the fact that he'd once been holding his love, been attempting to heal her infectious wounds, she and the couch they'd resided on were gone.
Mamoru was left in a black chasm, an expansive emptiness that was marred by a small, pale dot. It twitched.
Mamoru stood from his knees, disbanding his confusion at his current whereabouts, and ran to the curled up whiteness. There Usagi lay in the fetal position, hugging her knees tightly with her hands over her ears. She struggled when he reached out to her, swatting away his hands and screaming. She was petrified. It caused Mamoru's throat to tighten with sorrow—just what did he do to her here?
"Usako it's me…" he whispered cooingly, smoothing back her hair. She fought him again, pushing his hands away. "Please," he begged, reaching out to comfort her again.
Mamoru's eyes widened as she broke from his grasp and leapt on him. His back slammed down and his head collided with the nothingness underneath him. Her eyes were feral with fear as a snarling growl squeezed though her bared teeth. She reared back an arm to swipe at him.
"Usagi!" he called, grabbing her face.
The ferociousness in her eyes diminished as a spark of recognition flowed through her. "M-Mamo-chan?" she whispered. Her mouth opened in astonishment as tears gathered in her eyes. "Mamo-chan?!" she screeched, throwing her arms around his neck.
He held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder, the weeping racking her body as he tried not to let her emotion overcome him. He pet her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, anything he could think of to calm her down. "Shh, it's ok," he whispered. "I'm here."
Her sobs faded into sniffles as she pulled her face from his shoulder, trembling fingers grasping at the collar of his shirt. "But how?" she questioned, voice thick with misery. "How are you here?"
He smiled gently at her and wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. "I'm not really sure," he admitted as a small echo sounded to their left. Usagi's eyes became stained with that ferocious fright as they looked to where the sound came from. "But I'm he—"
She clamped her hand over his mouth, cutting off his words. Her mouth pressed into a firm line as fast puffs of breath repeatedly huffed from her nose. "Be quiet!" she hissed, wide eyed. "He can't know you're here!" Something white began to approach them from Usagi's left. She turned to face it.
Mamoru reached out and put a hand to her shoulder. A look of deep concentration was on her face as the figure approached them still, an iota of fear still quivering in her eyes. Mamoru held in his shocked gasp when he realized that he couldn't see his own hand. He held both of them out in front of him, alarmed that no part of his body was readily visible anymore.
The figure was almost upon them now and Mamoru became angry. He moved to stand, to confront their vile enemy but he felt Usagi's fingers graze his knee. Her eyes remained focused on the blue haired man that walked their way but she'd sensed Mamoru's teeming ire.
"It's just a vision," she whispered and Mamoru barely relaxed.
The blue haired man now stood directly in front of them, clearly not aware that they were there. He was garbed in some white uniform and had a gaping hole in the strong broadness of his abdomen. He pulled something from his pocket and held it in front of his face.
Both Usagi and Mamoru gasped, frozen with shock.
It was Minako's bow.
He turned it over in his hand and it was clear that the ribbon was matted with dark red blood. He sniffed for a moment and seemed to appreciate the scent that emanated from it. Mamoru could see angry tears building in Usagi's eyes and it was his turn to place a comforting hand to her knee.
"I guess I'll just keep it then," the apparition said as it turned around and began to walk away.
Mamoru saw the image of his hands begin to fizzle back into reality. Before he could become solid again a sudden vortex appeared in the blackness. He grabbed Usagi's hand as the swirling hole began to suck the two of them closer. Her eyes were plastered to the apparition's form in complete and utter contempt, the tempestuous wind not concerning her in the slightest.
It was completely silent as the vortex sucked them in. Mamoru watched Usagi curiously, not willing to admit to himself that her initial reaction to his appearance had scared him. The coldness that captivated her current stare sent shivers down his spine as her hand hung listlessly within his.
And then suddenly they were on the couch again and Setsuna's infuriated eyes were staring into his own. He blinked a few times, confused as to his whereabouts and Usagi's until a strong fist connected with his chin.
Mamoru's head snapped back in pure and utter astonishment. His wide eyes focused in and out as his hand reached up to feel his already bruising jaw. A trickle of blood touched his hand and he wiped the liquid away. When his senses came back he growled at her.
"What the hell Setsuna?!" he screamed as he stood. He saw Usagi scramble up from the opposite end of the couch and lightly pull the Time Guardian away. Setsuna gently removed herself from Usagi's grasp, all the while keeping her angry eyes trained on Mamoru.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" she yelled, eyes alive with a burning resentment. "Going into her mind will put both of you in danger!" She pointed an accusing finger at him.
"I managed to hide him from view, Setsuna," Usagi said meekly. "It took some effort but I did it." She sat tiredly on the couch, body clearly not ready for such rapid movements.
"You're a damned fool!" Setsuna said, unrelenting in her anger.
Mamoru would never hit her back but he would admit that he was tempted to. "What am I supposed to do?!" he bellowed. "I can't do anything to help! And now Minako…Minako…"
His anger faltered as Mamoru sat heavily onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. Usagi began to cry softly at the opposite end of the couch, curling up into a ball.
Setsuna, still alive with emotion, tried to steady her nerves. "Minako what?" she asked breathily.
Mamoru pulled his hands down his face and hung them between his legs, slouching low. His body shifted with a loud sigh. "They had her bow," came his muffled response from his low fallen head. "It was covered in blood."
Setsuna was glad when her communicator went off because she didn't know how to respond to him. "E-excuse me," she said softly, walking into another room.
Leaning against the kitchen counter she flipped the device open. Neptune's face appeared.
"We followed the signature and found it," she said gravely, a moment of static cutting off their interaction. "It's small for now."
Setsuna sighed. "Show me," she demanded.
Neptune turned the communicator around and Setsuna was faced with the image of a bridge she couldn't readily identify. The scene of the stream that babbled beneath it would have been a lovely sight of it hadn't suddenly distorted. A small pocket of visible space mutated like it was captivated in a wave of extreme heat. Whatever lay beyond it was opaque and unclear, a mix of the colors that should have resided there. If she had to guess she'd say it was about the size of a large coffee cup.
It was a warp.
"Dammit," she cursed, placing a hand to her forehead. "Keep the coordinates and come home."
The picture on the other end of the communicator went crazy for a moment as presumably the object was snatched out of Neptune's hand.
"But what about Hotaru?" Uranus growled, face now apparent on the screen.
Setsuna's glare intensified. "It's only been two days," she responded coldly, "And we have more pressing matters. Mamoru went into Usagi's head during an attack."
Uranus bit her lip. "That stupid—"
"Hotaru can wait. We can't fret openly about her missing, it'll just make Usagi worse. We'll extend our search when Usagi's back at home and at school. Now come home so they don't suspect anything."
Setsuna snapped the device shut without hearing Uranus's angered retort. She sagged against the table and sank to the floor. She hid her face in her knees, wrapping her arms around her head and listened with a heavy heart to the quiet sobs of her prince and princess.
AN: Okay so I know I promised some of Soul Society but I split this chapter and the next in two—it was just way too long. Hope you guys liked, please read and review!
Darkitty04: Aw thank you! I'm honestly glad I came back to continue it too. I really try to make everyone in character and not breeze through it all—things that are going to make my stories go on forever haha but I promise I'll finish them. I'm glad you like their powers! I wanted to change them somehow but leave some semblance of their original ones—personally I find making up powers kind of dubious and I like the ones they have anyway :) I'm glad you responded to my AN! I like your suggestions and I'll definitely consider them! Thank you so much for your review, I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last one!
JPandS: Ah, your reviews make me so happy. I'm glad you liked all the Makoto stuff hehe, I knew you wouldn't mind. Sadly she's not in this chapter, like, at all lol. Yeah, the girls will learn to really hone their ability in Soul Society (something I keep saying but never seems to come lol but it is! I promise!). Just so much freaking plot development -_- my stories are going to last forever if I keep this up. I definitely expanded on Ami's exasperation haha, she's been shoved off and told no and asked for answers so many times she's just gotta be so annoyed lol. I really like Minako and Ichigo's friendship. I just feel like they'd get along so well. I know, I love how Bleach has so many awesome characters, but it's also a HUGE daunting task when you're writing a story hahaha. I have to really pick and choose whom I'm going to include. I'll admit I sighed with relief when you said I wasn't harping too much on the whole off thing. People are pretty much used to it now haha so it won't be popping up much more. Oh poor, poor Usagi :( She's like that way for a reason though…Aizen is such a bastard. Hehehehe pairings…you'll see soon enough. Thanks so much for the review, always my favorite to read!
Kuramaworshiper: I did! Haha I hope you liked it and thanks for the review!
SaturnWolf3: Thanks! And here is more! Haha, hope you enjoyed, thanks so much for the review!