Sailor Moon
Reflections of a Red Rose
Rated: PG-13
By: NeoMoon
Chapter Thirty-Five:
Haruka sighed contently as she rolled over in the large bed and wrapped her arm around Micheru.
It had been a wonderful night, full of emotions and feelings she never wanted to explain because
then the magic would be lost and she didn't want that, she was content to just have it, to be
able to curl around it. A smile came to her face as she pulled herself closer to her sleeping
love, and she couldn't help but laugh a little, she was being selfish, but that didn't matter
because she could afford to be selfish, with this at least.
"If you squeeze her any harder she might pop." Whispered a cynical voice next to Haruka.
Haruka's head jerked up, and she winced against the jarring pain from the muscle she had pulled.
"What in the hell do you want?" She hissed through clenched teeth as she looked at the tall
pink haired woman sitting on the edge of the bed, the wide sarcastic smile growing.
Usa just shrugged, and slowly lifted herself up off the bed, and started to pace around the room,
finally she stopped her lithe form centered with the bed. "Although I'm quite happy for you, I
must pull you away from your perversions." The smile was still there but it was small now, the
sad cold of her blue eyes weighing down on the rest of her. "Its time for you to fulfill your
oath Knight?"
Haruka sighed, and unwrapped her body form Micheru's, and stood, shaking in the cool spring
night, she walked over to a closet, her eyes never leaving Usa's, her body tightening as she
prepared for the fight she was sure would come. "And what oath is that?" She asked as she
wrapped a robe around her naked body, doing her best to keep her voice light.
Usa shook her head, and walked into the shadows of the room, and vanished. "You know what I
mean." Whispered the air.
Chi's body was cold, her mind numb, her gray eyes frosted as she held the screaming woman's arms
down to her sides with all her strength. Three hours ago the hospital had run out of aesthetics,
soon after that they had run out of the normal painkillers and tranquilizers, and still they had
so many to help, at first she had cried with those that still needed surgery, at first she would
become so sick as she held them down listening to them scream in agony, watching as the dark red
blood pooled around them, as doctors used equipment that was far from properly sanitized because
there was no time. She had hated it then, she hated it now, but three hours ago she had still
been hopeful, but now she wasn't now she knew they where all going to die, not right away, not
even in a week, but soon. Soon they would run out of food, even with all the fatalities the city
had suffered, there was still too many to fed, and the shield . . .
Her body shuddered as she remember the badly burned cop that had stumbled in two hours ago, and
refused treatment, telling them that it didn't mater, telling them about the scores of rescue and
aid workers and volunteers waiting outside the city, telling them about the fighter jets and
bombers, about the scientist, and the religious figures that were all trying to find away into
the city but couldn't. When she had led him to a cot in the already body flooded waiting room,
she'd asked how he knew, and all he had said was that he'd been there, then he simply lied down
and twenty minutes later when she was making her rounds giving whatever small comfort she could
to the hundreds in the room, she found him dead.
A needle sharp pain woke Chi back into reality and she stumbled backwards her eyes fixed on her
forearm, at the blood the was trickling down it, at the bite mark that had broken through skin,
she took in a deep breath, and looked at the woman, then at the doctors fighting against flaying
arms, and course curses, trying their best to free the woman from her twisted useless leg, with
sigh that almost broke into a sob Chi went back to her job and silently held down the woman's
arms, as another stripper hurried over and restrained the woman's head.
Minako stood in the relative darkness of the old watch tower on the Sato bridge, the little amber
light from her cigarette the only source of light or heat, Makoto stood a little bit away from
her, looking out into the dark predawn waters.
Time passed slowly the sun's first ray a line across the far away horizon, the world silent
around them, eerie, unnatural. Minako took it all in, the silence the encroaching light of a new
day, the breeze that still held the faint aroma of burning wood, she took all this in and hated
it, she hated the silence, hated the light, hated the smell, all of it made her sick, all of it
reminded her of her crime.
The cigarette had burned to its end, briefly catching on her skin, causing her to jump, breaking
the silence for but a moment before it returned, flooding her ears. She sighed and looked over
at Makoto, she hadn't moved, but now that light had entered into the world Minako could see the
bruises, could see the glistening of the tears that ran down her face, and that more then the
silence or the smell or the light creaked a soul that was already fractured, and so the silence
stretched on.
All through the night Mamoru ran, had run until the light of the new sun shone down onto the
devastated city of Tokyo, now though he could barely move, blood ran down his face, thick as it
dried in the cool morning breeze, his breath escaped his lungs too fast, and he knew, deep down
he knew he would die soon, he could feel the pain in his head increasing could feel the swelling
of his brain as the blood pumped faster and faster, he was going to die, slowly painfully, and
would never even be able to tell Usagi the one thing he wanted to tell her, the one thing he had
to tell. As he had through most of the night and for weeks before he shoved his hand into his
pants pocket and caressed the small velvet covered book that rested warmly against him. He
smiled as he caressed his body falling against a single wall of an old building. He remembered
the first ring he'd given her the promise ring she wore so protectively, he laughed as he
remembered the look on her face when he given it to her in the airport, how her breath had
hitched how her whole body quivered as he slid it onto her finger. His body slid down slumping
against the ground, his eyes closed, his breathing slower and slower, it didn't matter, he'd
never had a chance to give it to her anyway, he'd die here now, wishing he'd had that chance,
wishing he'd not backed out time and time again, saying silently to himself that he had time,
that everything would be alright, that he had time on his side, and that they were to be together
no matter what. There was no more time though, he could feel his heart slowly, his hands going
numb, but still he knew he held the small box, he knew that the gift that rested inside its shell
would be taken by no other but his love.
The world around him grew cold, it was almost time, he could feel Death's shadow crossing him, he
tried to open his eyes but he no longer had the strength. "Usako," he whispered, his voice dry
and hoarse. "Usako, I love . . ."
She flew through the dawn, her hair playing in the wind, away from her face, her cold blue eyes
surveying the land around her, the wind hitched changing its course, she tucked in her large dark
wings and dove, a rare genuine smile crossing the smooth features of her face, but the joy of
flight, of the freedom it gave to Usa did not last long, and soon she found herself only a few
feet above the city surface, her eyes searching like an eagle for its prey her mind screaming to
her that she had to rest that it had been nearly three days since she'd had any food, and almost
as long since she had any sleep. She couldn't rest though, not now not until this was all over,
not until she found her father and saved the future queen.
Damn stupid old man! She thought as her wings arced backed gracefully and she rose into the air,
trying her best to avoid what fires still remained in the city. Damn you father, why'd you have
to . . .
She stopped dead her wings flapping again arching back bringing her to rest in the air as if she
were standing, a woman stood a few feet away from her on the ledge to a building that should have
by now fallen, her black cloak whipping in the heavy wind. Usa breath caught in her throat as
part of the cloak reached out to her and passed harmlessly through. "Who are you?" She managed
at last to say.
The woman spoke, her voice the whisper of a cold winter breeze. "I am who I am."
Anger flooded through Usa she didn't have times for this her father was badly hurt that much was
clear the last time she'd seen him, and now! And now that stupid old fool had decided to play
hero and got himself lost in a city that was falling apart.
"Do not go to him." The whisper came to her. Usa looked at the woman and snarled.
"He will be safe." The phantom in the black cloak whispered. "It is not his time, I am not here
for him."
The realization hit her physically, and Usa stumbled back in the air, the shock of the
realization sending a trembling fear through her entire being. "Th - then who are you here for?"
Death's thin pale hands appeared out of the cloak, rising slowly almost as if the action caused
her pain, and pulled back her hood. "I am sorry Priestess," Setsuna whispered, sorrow and grief
washing through her voice. "But I have come for you."
Usa closed her eyes and sighed, this was how it was to end, she knew that everything would work
out, the histories had never mentioned her and anyone like her, so she knew deep down she knew
that she would not be the savior of this first war. With another sigh she opened her eyes, and
looked at Death. "Fine then." She flapped her wings indigently, and came till se was no more
then a foot away from her oldest friend and now the one that would gather her soul. "Make it
quick."
Death replaced her hood and shook her head. "No." The cold voice whispered from the darkness
within the hood. "Not yet there are still things to be done." Death turned away.
"Wait!" Usa screamed, not bothering for Death to turn around she continued. "You said he's
safe, were is he?"
Death didn't turn, didn't walk away, she just faded away, as if she were nothing more then a
daydream. "She has him." A cold winter's breeze answered.
The silence stretched on through out the day, and by the time that the sun had reached its peak
in the sky Minako felt as if she would scream, she hated silence even before this she had hated
it, and now even with the company of one of her oldest friends she felt bitterly alone.
Pushing off the railing she walked slowly, her legs unsure they wanted to go forward, her mind
afraid of what may be said in the coming moments because it knew it could not take much more
emotional trauma. "Mako - Chan?" She whispered, her voice dry and hoarse.
Makoto looked over to her, her eyes growing cold and narrowed. "What?" She hissed through
clenched teeth, as those cold eyes stared at her, a predator watching the tired wary deer,
waiting for the right moment.
Minako stumbled back a step, her heart racing, she shouldn't have spoken she should have just
stayed away and waited for Usa, because Usa would protect her, because Usa knew how important she
was in what was to come because she was needed. Makoto didn't know that though, and Makoto
wouldn't care because in the end when all the words, when all the pretty dressings and lies that
Minako had built as a defense crumbled away only the truth remained, and truth screamed out,
telling all of her crime, her highest crime. In the end she knew that that crime would be the
end of her, because she would never be forgiven for it. "I'm sorry." She sobbed her voice low
and creaked. "I didn't know, I only wanted to be done with all this, I only - I only wanted to
be free of this stupid responsible to just be normal to go to clubs and have a boyfriend and just
- and just," she shook her head, words failing to come to her fractured mind, a mind that knew it
would never be healed as long as the deep wounds in the soul were left unmended, and those wounds
never would be mended because there was no forgiveness for what she had done, and she knew this,
and accepted this.
So she stood there crying for herself crying for the friends that were lost and the hundreds of
people she had helped murder, and most of all she cried for she had been once, for the leader of
the Senshi, for the woman that had bravely fought against all odds and always in the end
triumphed.
"It's not going to be easy."
Minako looked up, her eyes red and stinging from the tears, still she could see the hard set on
Makoto's face. "What?" She managed to choke.
Makoto sighed, and dropped down next to her, her knees brought close to her chest, her arms
wrapped protectively around them. "I don't know if I'll ever forget what you and Haruka did to
me, I just can't forget what I saw in that . . . place you put me." Her body shook as she spoke,
but still Minako could not see emotion on her face, it had set itself into a beautiful mask of
indifference. "The thing is though we're soldiers, and as soldiers we can't afford for there to
be conflict." A sharp laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head. "In other words we need to
still be able to work together." She paused, her breath escaping her as a sigh. "And then maybe
someday things and be as they were." Makoto's arm wrapped around Minako's shoulders, embracing
her in a one armed hug. "Okay?"
"Wake up my love."
The voice was sweet, so full of care, and his head no longer hurt, and the darkness was so cold.
Slowly he made his way up, ignoring the faint whispers that told him to stay that told him not
to go back, that some thing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong; the voice was so sweet, so calm
and caring, so familiar.
Mamoru opened his eyes, he was in a small room, dim room, lying in a narrow bed, far away he
could here water dripping and someone humming. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second
trying to remember how he had come to be there, the last thing he remembered were the empty
streets the destroyed buildings, and the thoughts that he was going to die. Movement made him
open his eyes again.
She was standing a few feet away, her features mostly hidden in shadows, but he knew who it was.
"Hey." He said groggily.
She stepped out of the shadows and sat next to him lightly, her slender soft hand stroking his
head, a small almost sad smile on her face. He looked at her, and something tugged at him, a
feeling of wrongness that he couldn't explain. "You almost died." She whispered to him as she
leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "But I saved you my beloved Endymion."
Endymion? Why had she just said that? He looked at her, trying to figure it out, Usagi had
never used that name, never would, always had denied with heated passion that they were the way
they were because of their past lives. Endymion loved Serenity, and Serenity loved Endymion, and
Usagi and Mamoru's love is not Endymion and Serenity's love. She said that to him right after he
remember his past the second time, after the mental fog that the Beryl had cast over him had
cleared. He remembered wondering the same thing, if he only loved her because of the fact that
she was once Serenity. She had almost cried, when he told her that, then punched him. So then
why did she call him that now?
"Endymion, are you well?"
He looked at her, his gray blue piercing past the veil of the obvious, looking at every detail he
could see of her. The way her eyes now looked green instead of their normal sky blue, of how her
hair once pure blonde, was now streaked with a fiery red. His mind screamed at him, telling him
he needed to run telling him he was in danger, but he couldn't run, because behind those green
eyes he saw the blue, barely beneath the surface, some how repressed. At once he knew. "What
did you do to her?" He whispered.
The woman who was Usagi, but was not stood, looking down at him, her green eyes icing over
feeling with a cold rage. "How?" She hissed.
Mamoru smiled, he knew that voice, just as he new those eyes. "Because Lillith," he crooned.
"Usako never called me Endymion."
Lillith smiled at him, a cold feral smile, and stalked away.
Mamoru laid there for along time, his mind reeling, asking questions he could not answer, telling
him things that made him shiver and break out into a cold sweet. Finally with all anger
diminished Lillith returned, a tray full of little snacks between her hands, she place them on
the bed and looked at him, her green eyes sad. "I've given you the body." She whispered, her
voice choked. "Why can't you just accept me now, I look like her so why can't you?" She was
crying now, her tears streaming down cheeks, and Mamoru couldn't help but feel a little sorry for
the woman.
"Because," he whispered, his voice heavy. "You are not her."
Anger twisted her face, her lips curling back into a silent snarl. "Fine, then." She growled.
"But know this my beloved little prince, you will never again have your pretty little princess!"
IT was late, the sun was falling into the western horizon continuing its eternal journey and
leaving Japan, and the ravaged Tokyo behind. Usa watched it from the Christian church's steeple,
her black wings folded around her like a cloak trying to keep to her warm, but she knew it was
stupid to even try the day was warm, and the cold that she felt came from within. The meeting
with Death had jarred her badly; her mind was still trying to cope with the fact that Setsuna the
Guardian of Time had made the transcendence to Death.
The sun was gone when she finally came back to herself, the moon high in the clear night sky.
Usa sighed and spread her wings, forgetting the cold. She leaned forwards letting her go into a
freefall, pulling up with the flap of her wings in the last second before she would hit the
street.
She flew through the night gracefully, remembering her duty, remembering the histories she had
read as a child. Tomorrow, it would all end tomorrow at the Sato Bridge, and in the histories
all had been there. She changed her course against the wind, grunting at the effort to fly
through it, at the pain it caused in her back as her muscles pumped the large wings, it was only
another twelve hours at the least fourteen at the most she had to complete her mission.
She knew that Minako and Makoto already waited for her by the bridge, and if all went well
neither would kill the other, Rei was in a Psychic realm searching for a running Ami, their
bodies laying empty at two places very far from the other. She'd have to get them.
Haruka, even if she denied her oath would obey it, and would in the end go to the bridge, Micheru
in tow. Then there was Hotaru, but Hotaru was no longer the friend that Usa had once known, she
had fully become the Harbinger, and that guarantied her attendance.
And father? Death had said father was with her, so he too would be at the bridge without her
help. That only left two her wild card, the aunt she never knew to exist, the sister her father
had just begun to know, and Death.
And Death Usa knew would be there, because after the battle was over someone would be needed to
gather the souls of the fallen Senshi.
Reflections of a Red Rose
Rated: PG-13
By: NeoMoon
Chapter Thirty-Five:
Haruka sighed contently as she rolled over in the large bed and wrapped her arm around Micheru.
It had been a wonderful night, full of emotions and feelings she never wanted to explain because
then the magic would be lost and she didn't want that, she was content to just have it, to be
able to curl around it. A smile came to her face as she pulled herself closer to her sleeping
love, and she couldn't help but laugh a little, she was being selfish, but that didn't matter
because she could afford to be selfish, with this at least.
"If you squeeze her any harder she might pop." Whispered a cynical voice next to Haruka.
Haruka's head jerked up, and she winced against the jarring pain from the muscle she had pulled.
"What in the hell do you want?" She hissed through clenched teeth as she looked at the tall
pink haired woman sitting on the edge of the bed, the wide sarcastic smile growing.
Usa just shrugged, and slowly lifted herself up off the bed, and started to pace around the room,
finally she stopped her lithe form centered with the bed. "Although I'm quite happy for you, I
must pull you away from your perversions." The smile was still there but it was small now, the
sad cold of her blue eyes weighing down on the rest of her. "Its time for you to fulfill your
oath Knight?"
Haruka sighed, and unwrapped her body form Micheru's, and stood, shaking in the cool spring
night, she walked over to a closet, her eyes never leaving Usa's, her body tightening as she
prepared for the fight she was sure would come. "And what oath is that?" She asked as she
wrapped a robe around her naked body, doing her best to keep her voice light.
Usa shook her head, and walked into the shadows of the room, and vanished. "You know what I
mean." Whispered the air.
Chi's body was cold, her mind numb, her gray eyes frosted as she held the screaming woman's arms
down to her sides with all her strength. Three hours ago the hospital had run out of aesthetics,
soon after that they had run out of the normal painkillers and tranquilizers, and still they had
so many to help, at first she had cried with those that still needed surgery, at first she would
become so sick as she held them down listening to them scream in agony, watching as the dark red
blood pooled around them, as doctors used equipment that was far from properly sanitized because
there was no time. She had hated it then, she hated it now, but three hours ago she had still
been hopeful, but now she wasn't now she knew they where all going to die, not right away, not
even in a week, but soon. Soon they would run out of food, even with all the fatalities the city
had suffered, there was still too many to fed, and the shield . . .
Her body shuddered as she remember the badly burned cop that had stumbled in two hours ago, and
refused treatment, telling them that it didn't mater, telling them about the scores of rescue and
aid workers and volunteers waiting outside the city, telling them about the fighter jets and
bombers, about the scientist, and the religious figures that were all trying to find away into
the city but couldn't. When she had led him to a cot in the already body flooded waiting room,
she'd asked how he knew, and all he had said was that he'd been there, then he simply lied down
and twenty minutes later when she was making her rounds giving whatever small comfort she could
to the hundreds in the room, she found him dead.
A needle sharp pain woke Chi back into reality and she stumbled backwards her eyes fixed on her
forearm, at the blood the was trickling down it, at the bite mark that had broken through skin,
she took in a deep breath, and looked at the woman, then at the doctors fighting against flaying
arms, and course curses, trying their best to free the woman from her twisted useless leg, with
sigh that almost broke into a sob Chi went back to her job and silently held down the woman's
arms, as another stripper hurried over and restrained the woman's head.
Minako stood in the relative darkness of the old watch tower on the Sato bridge, the little amber
light from her cigarette the only source of light or heat, Makoto stood a little bit away from
her, looking out into the dark predawn waters.
Time passed slowly the sun's first ray a line across the far away horizon, the world silent
around them, eerie, unnatural. Minako took it all in, the silence the encroaching light of a new
day, the breeze that still held the faint aroma of burning wood, she took all this in and hated
it, she hated the silence, hated the light, hated the smell, all of it made her sick, all of it
reminded her of her crime.
The cigarette had burned to its end, briefly catching on her skin, causing her to jump, breaking
the silence for but a moment before it returned, flooding her ears. She sighed and looked over
at Makoto, she hadn't moved, but now that light had entered into the world Minako could see the
bruises, could see the glistening of the tears that ran down her face, and that more then the
silence or the smell or the light creaked a soul that was already fractured, and so the silence
stretched on.
All through the night Mamoru ran, had run until the light of the new sun shone down onto the
devastated city of Tokyo, now though he could barely move, blood ran down his face, thick as it
dried in the cool morning breeze, his breath escaped his lungs too fast, and he knew, deep down
he knew he would die soon, he could feel the pain in his head increasing could feel the swelling
of his brain as the blood pumped faster and faster, he was going to die, slowly painfully, and
would never even be able to tell Usagi the one thing he wanted to tell her, the one thing he had
to tell. As he had through most of the night and for weeks before he shoved his hand into his
pants pocket and caressed the small velvet covered book that rested warmly against him. He
smiled as he caressed his body falling against a single wall of an old building. He remembered
the first ring he'd given her the promise ring she wore so protectively, he laughed as he
remembered the look on her face when he given it to her in the airport, how her breath had
hitched how her whole body quivered as he slid it onto her finger. His body slid down slumping
against the ground, his eyes closed, his breathing slower and slower, it didn't matter, he'd
never had a chance to give it to her anyway, he'd die here now, wishing he'd had that chance,
wishing he'd not backed out time and time again, saying silently to himself that he had time,
that everything would be alright, that he had time on his side, and that they were to be together
no matter what. There was no more time though, he could feel his heart slowly, his hands going
numb, but still he knew he held the small box, he knew that the gift that rested inside its shell
would be taken by no other but his love.
The world around him grew cold, it was almost time, he could feel Death's shadow crossing him, he
tried to open his eyes but he no longer had the strength. "Usako," he whispered, his voice dry
and hoarse. "Usako, I love . . ."
She flew through the dawn, her hair playing in the wind, away from her face, her cold blue eyes
surveying the land around her, the wind hitched changing its course, she tucked in her large dark
wings and dove, a rare genuine smile crossing the smooth features of her face, but the joy of
flight, of the freedom it gave to Usa did not last long, and soon she found herself only a few
feet above the city surface, her eyes searching like an eagle for its prey her mind screaming to
her that she had to rest that it had been nearly three days since she'd had any food, and almost
as long since she had any sleep. She couldn't rest though, not now not until this was all over,
not until she found her father and saved the future queen.
Damn stupid old man! She thought as her wings arced backed gracefully and she rose into the air,
trying her best to avoid what fires still remained in the city. Damn you father, why'd you have
to . . .
She stopped dead her wings flapping again arching back bringing her to rest in the air as if she
were standing, a woman stood a few feet away from her on the ledge to a building that should have
by now fallen, her black cloak whipping in the heavy wind. Usa breath caught in her throat as
part of the cloak reached out to her and passed harmlessly through. "Who are you?" She managed
at last to say.
The woman spoke, her voice the whisper of a cold winter breeze. "I am who I am."
Anger flooded through Usa she didn't have times for this her father was badly hurt that much was
clear the last time she'd seen him, and now! And now that stupid old fool had decided to play
hero and got himself lost in a city that was falling apart.
"Do not go to him." The whisper came to her. Usa looked at the woman and snarled.
"He will be safe." The phantom in the black cloak whispered. "It is not his time, I am not here
for him."
The realization hit her physically, and Usa stumbled back in the air, the shock of the
realization sending a trembling fear through her entire being. "Th - then who are you here for?"
Death's thin pale hands appeared out of the cloak, rising slowly almost as if the action caused
her pain, and pulled back her hood. "I am sorry Priestess," Setsuna whispered, sorrow and grief
washing through her voice. "But I have come for you."
Usa closed her eyes and sighed, this was how it was to end, she knew that everything would work
out, the histories had never mentioned her and anyone like her, so she knew deep down she knew
that she would not be the savior of this first war. With another sigh she opened her eyes, and
looked at Death. "Fine then." She flapped her wings indigently, and came till se was no more
then a foot away from her oldest friend and now the one that would gather her soul. "Make it
quick."
Death replaced her hood and shook her head. "No." The cold voice whispered from the darkness
within the hood. "Not yet there are still things to be done." Death turned away.
"Wait!" Usa screamed, not bothering for Death to turn around she continued. "You said he's
safe, were is he?"
Death didn't turn, didn't walk away, she just faded away, as if she were nothing more then a
daydream. "She has him." A cold winter's breeze answered.
The silence stretched on through out the day, and by the time that the sun had reached its peak
in the sky Minako felt as if she would scream, she hated silence even before this she had hated
it, and now even with the company of one of her oldest friends she felt bitterly alone.
Pushing off the railing she walked slowly, her legs unsure they wanted to go forward, her mind
afraid of what may be said in the coming moments because it knew it could not take much more
emotional trauma. "Mako - Chan?" She whispered, her voice dry and hoarse.
Makoto looked over to her, her eyes growing cold and narrowed. "What?" She hissed through
clenched teeth, as those cold eyes stared at her, a predator watching the tired wary deer,
waiting for the right moment.
Minako stumbled back a step, her heart racing, she shouldn't have spoken she should have just
stayed away and waited for Usa, because Usa would protect her, because Usa knew how important she
was in what was to come because she was needed. Makoto didn't know that though, and Makoto
wouldn't care because in the end when all the words, when all the pretty dressings and lies that
Minako had built as a defense crumbled away only the truth remained, and truth screamed out,
telling all of her crime, her highest crime. In the end she knew that that crime would be the
end of her, because she would never be forgiven for it. "I'm sorry." She sobbed her voice low
and creaked. "I didn't know, I only wanted to be done with all this, I only - I only wanted to
be free of this stupid responsible to just be normal to go to clubs and have a boyfriend and just
- and just," she shook her head, words failing to come to her fractured mind, a mind that knew it
would never be healed as long as the deep wounds in the soul were left unmended, and those wounds
never would be mended because there was no forgiveness for what she had done, and she knew this,
and accepted this.
So she stood there crying for herself crying for the friends that were lost and the hundreds of
people she had helped murder, and most of all she cried for she had been once, for the leader of
the Senshi, for the woman that had bravely fought against all odds and always in the end
triumphed.
"It's not going to be easy."
Minako looked up, her eyes red and stinging from the tears, still she could see the hard set on
Makoto's face. "What?" She managed to choke.
Makoto sighed, and dropped down next to her, her knees brought close to her chest, her arms
wrapped protectively around them. "I don't know if I'll ever forget what you and Haruka did to
me, I just can't forget what I saw in that . . . place you put me." Her body shook as she spoke,
but still Minako could not see emotion on her face, it had set itself into a beautiful mask of
indifference. "The thing is though we're soldiers, and as soldiers we can't afford for there to
be conflict." A sharp laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head. "In other words we need to
still be able to work together." She paused, her breath escaping her as a sigh. "And then maybe
someday things and be as they were." Makoto's arm wrapped around Minako's shoulders, embracing
her in a one armed hug. "Okay?"
"Wake up my love."
The voice was sweet, so full of care, and his head no longer hurt, and the darkness was so cold.
Slowly he made his way up, ignoring the faint whispers that told him to stay that told him not
to go back, that some thing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong; the voice was so sweet, so calm
and caring, so familiar.
Mamoru opened his eyes, he was in a small room, dim room, lying in a narrow bed, far away he
could here water dripping and someone humming. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second
trying to remember how he had come to be there, the last thing he remembered were the empty
streets the destroyed buildings, and the thoughts that he was going to die. Movement made him
open his eyes again.
She was standing a few feet away, her features mostly hidden in shadows, but he knew who it was.
"Hey." He said groggily.
She stepped out of the shadows and sat next to him lightly, her slender soft hand stroking his
head, a small almost sad smile on her face. He looked at her, and something tugged at him, a
feeling of wrongness that he couldn't explain. "You almost died." She whispered to him as she
leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "But I saved you my beloved Endymion."
Endymion? Why had she just said that? He looked at her, trying to figure it out, Usagi had
never used that name, never would, always had denied with heated passion that they were the way
they were because of their past lives. Endymion loved Serenity, and Serenity loved Endymion, and
Usagi and Mamoru's love is not Endymion and Serenity's love. She said that to him right after he
remember his past the second time, after the mental fog that the Beryl had cast over him had
cleared. He remembered wondering the same thing, if he only loved her because of the fact that
she was once Serenity. She had almost cried, when he told her that, then punched him. So then
why did she call him that now?
"Endymion, are you well?"
He looked at her, his gray blue piercing past the veil of the obvious, looking at every detail he
could see of her. The way her eyes now looked green instead of their normal sky blue, of how her
hair once pure blonde, was now streaked with a fiery red. His mind screamed at him, telling him
he needed to run telling him he was in danger, but he couldn't run, because behind those green
eyes he saw the blue, barely beneath the surface, some how repressed. At once he knew. "What
did you do to her?" He whispered.
The woman who was Usagi, but was not stood, looking down at him, her green eyes icing over
feeling with a cold rage. "How?" She hissed.
Mamoru smiled, he knew that voice, just as he new those eyes. "Because Lillith," he crooned.
"Usako never called me Endymion."
Lillith smiled at him, a cold feral smile, and stalked away.
Mamoru laid there for along time, his mind reeling, asking questions he could not answer, telling
him things that made him shiver and break out into a cold sweet. Finally with all anger
diminished Lillith returned, a tray full of little snacks between her hands, she place them on
the bed and looked at him, her green eyes sad. "I've given you the body." She whispered, her
voice choked. "Why can't you just accept me now, I look like her so why can't you?" She was
crying now, her tears streaming down cheeks, and Mamoru couldn't help but feel a little sorry for
the woman.
"Because," he whispered, his voice heavy. "You are not her."
Anger twisted her face, her lips curling back into a silent snarl. "Fine, then." She growled.
"But know this my beloved little prince, you will never again have your pretty little princess!"
IT was late, the sun was falling into the western horizon continuing its eternal journey and
leaving Japan, and the ravaged Tokyo behind. Usa watched it from the Christian church's steeple,
her black wings folded around her like a cloak trying to keep to her warm, but she knew it was
stupid to even try the day was warm, and the cold that she felt came from within. The meeting
with Death had jarred her badly; her mind was still trying to cope with the fact that Setsuna the
Guardian of Time had made the transcendence to Death.
The sun was gone when she finally came back to herself, the moon high in the clear night sky.
Usa sighed and spread her wings, forgetting the cold. She leaned forwards letting her go into a
freefall, pulling up with the flap of her wings in the last second before she would hit the
street.
She flew through the night gracefully, remembering her duty, remembering the histories she had
read as a child. Tomorrow, it would all end tomorrow at the Sato Bridge, and in the histories
all had been there. She changed her course against the wind, grunting at the effort to fly
through it, at the pain it caused in her back as her muscles pumped the large wings, it was only
another twelve hours at the least fourteen at the most she had to complete her mission.
She knew that Minako and Makoto already waited for her by the bridge, and if all went well
neither would kill the other, Rei was in a Psychic realm searching for a running Ami, their
bodies laying empty at two places very far from the other. She'd have to get them.
Haruka, even if she denied her oath would obey it, and would in the end go to the bridge, Micheru
in tow. Then there was Hotaru, but Hotaru was no longer the friend that Usa had once known, she
had fully become the Harbinger, and that guarantied her attendance.
And father? Death had said father was with her, so he too would be at the bridge without her
help. That only left two her wild card, the aunt she never knew to exist, the sister her father
had just begun to know, and Death.
And Death Usa knew would be there, because after the battle was over someone would be needed to
gather the souls of the fallen Senshi.