A few months ago, when Hotaru first met Sailor Chu, the petite woman with red hair had been filled with a hopeful light, excited at meeting the reincarnation of her friend. He didn't end up going with her, but Sailor Chu had nonetheless been happy just at speaking with him again.
This encounter, she was grim. As promised, the sailor soldiers of Fauna had investigated Tau, and what they found was disturbing enough to send an urgent message to meet.
"It's only me today," said Sailor Chu. If Hotaru focused, she could see the glimmer of magic that hinted at a glamor, disguising the large ears of Sailor Chu as two rings of braided red hair. A hairstyle not easily seen, but not nearly as eye-catching as ears the size of saucers would. "Sailor Cocoon and Sailor Mermaid are bringing life back to their planet, and Sailor Coronis and Sailor Mau are protecting Fauna while they're vulnerable. But this is serious."
Other than herself, Usagi and Rei were the only sailor soldiers who didn't have scheduling conflicts they couldn't just drop and come for.
Projections of a star system different from their own was thrown up above the table they sat around. Luna and Artemis, sitting on the tables rather than in seats due to the differences in their anatomy, leaned in to look closer. It was different, but not unfamiliar. Hotaru had seen it through a rift in time and space years ago, one she jumped into.
It was hard, to not remember things from moments like that.
"We noticed movements within Tau," said Sailor Chu. "And after my last visit to Earth, I snuck over to see what I could find out."
Next to the projections, lists began to roll down. Some information highlighted at the snap of Sailor Chu's fingers, and Hotaru's eyes were drawn towards them.
"Ranking works with information I have prior," said Sailor Chu. "If I want direct information about a person, like, say, their greatest weaknesses, that's directly tied to them. In that case, I need their name, and for greater accuracy, physical proximity."
One of the lists enlarged. 'Strongest beings in the Tau Star System'. It was a short list, and the name at the top was highlighted.
"But that limitation isn't necessarily restricted to people," continued Sailor Chu. "I already know the name of the Tau Star System, and I was there when I made this ranking. With that, I could draw up this list of names."
'Master Pharaoh 100'.
Rei's eyes narrowed, fire and war within her flickering in response to the upcoming clash, like a storm on the horizon.
"I don't know what system Tau used to name their . . . leaders," Sailor Chu grimaced at her own choice of word, "before their takeover and destruction by the Death Busters. But for their current abomination, I do have a list of previous leaders, and Pharaoh 100's, let's say, 'alignment'."
The next two lists – 'Previous Leaders' and 'Principal Goals of Master Pharaoh 100' enlarged accordingly. Master Pharaoh 90 and Mistress 9 were names listed as a pair, and Pharaoh 100's goals were stated as 'acquire power', 'revenge', and 'feed'.
"Ranking is supposed to be an objective method of compiling information," said Sailor Chu after Hotaru was finished reading. "But the three rankings on this one, they were fluid. This order changes, and what that usually means is that their importance in priority is interchangeable."
Usagi, also done reading, turned to Sailor Chu at that as Luna softly gasped. "Pharaoh 100 wants all of them."
Sailor Chu nodded. "In these kinds of cases, it usually means two things. He wants all of them all at once, or they can all be acquired with the same course of action."
Another list enlarged. 'Specific Goals of Master Pharaoh 100 in the Near Future'.
'Invade the solar system and take the Silver Crystal' was, unsurprisingly, the top goal.
"It's also the 'Most Likely Goal of Master Pharaoh 100'," Sailor Chu added.
"When?" asked Rei, dark eyes narrowed sharply at the offense, that someone dared to wrongly covet the solar system she was a protector of. If she felt what Hotaru did, then it was anger like magma seething inside, boiling thickly.
Sailor Chu shrugged. "All I could get was a 'soon' for a timeframe. At the time I was occupied with fleeing."
'Soon' was vague.
"I think two months," estimated Sailor Chu, offering her opinions. "At most. It's part gut instinct, but also, there was – shifting, in the Tau Star System. Like a machine beginning to activate."
That was when she fled, the sailor soldier of the planet Chu said, because at the time she thought they had discovered her, and while she was an excellent analyst her skills were less applicable in the area of physical strength.
Now, however, with the benefit of hindsight, Sailor Chu thought a little differently. During her escape she had never run into anyone pursuing or searching for an invader. They hadn't been searching for her, or even chasing her – because they didn't know she was there.
"I think they're beginning to mobilize."
In retrospect, maybe Tsuna should have realized that the day would end up in chaos when Hotaru couldn't make it to the mall with them. In his defense, he hadn't realized and been on guard with Hotaru being missing from the outing because he was a little busy being disappointed that it wasn't an outing with only Kyoko, but still. He should have seen it and taken it as the warning sign as it was.
A brief moment with Kyoko – a memory he would forever treasure in his heart – was the only silver lining of the day, before something – someone – fell from the skies and nearly crushed him to death.
Which, not just ow, but also what.
He wanted to say there was no such thing, but Tsuna was honestly beginning to think there was some kind of curse on him that was dispelled only by the literally healing aura of Tomoe Hotaru.
"I'm sorry," the crusher of life said, as Tsuna's eyes squeezed together in pain. "-Thou art…!"
He must have hit his head really hard, Tsuna thought through the agony of a broken skull, because who spoke like that in the twenty-first century?
"Tenth!"
"Are you alright, Tsuna?"
A light hand touched his shoulder carefully. "Tsuna-kun, are you okay?"
His eyes snapped open. The boy in the leather jacket – the person that nearly crushed him to death and spoke in a way that didn't go with his choice of clothes at all – was patting down his arm with hasty hands, the furrow of his brows nearly hidden by the blue fire flickering above it, but Tsuna was too focused on Kyoko, looking at him in concern. Well, he was now, and –
Hold on. Leather Jacket had a blue flame on his forehead, and unfortunately, it was familiar to Tsuna. A different color than what he was used to, maybe, and Leather Jacket wasn't running around in his underwear, but that was the Dying Will Flame, because Tsuna just point-blank refused to believe there were other people who went around with fire on their foreheads without a similar reason.
"Voooi! What's this?!" roared a very loud, very abrasive voice from above, as if the heavens were pissed at everything and anything and given the ability to speak. Or in this case, yell.
It wasn't quite the heavens but standing on the balcony of the building they'd been sitting in the shade of, holding a sword, was a man in black. He had extremely long silver hair, the longest Tsuna had ever seen on a guy, and everything about him looked unreal.
"What's going on?" Tsuna asked, but something deep in his gut, like a stomach flu or food poisoning, told him that the chaos had only just started.
He was, unfortunately, right.
The good news was, there were no broken bones. Takeshi knew what those felt like, and while there was pain, it wasn't that kind of pain. There were bruises scattered all over, mostly stretched out on the right side of his body, but other than that and a few aches, Takeshi had no other injuries.
And that was – insulting?
The voice of reason in his head – that had a habit of sounding like Haru or Hotaru, depending on which style would bring more guilt – pointed out that he shouldn't be unhappy at not being hurt, and the voice – Haru's today – was right. He was just knocked out, there were no lasting injuries, and everyone was okay.
. . .
Yeah, no.
That long-haired guy was strong.
When they fought at Kokuyo, against the guy with the giant metal ball – Tsuna said his name was Lancia and apologized on his behalf, saying that he was forced to fight, and Takeshi had forgiven him – that had been because the metal ball had a surprise twist to it. He had been caught off-guard, and it was an unfamiliar weapon, and he hadn't expected for the winds to suddenly change like that so abruptly.
And yeah, Lancia was strong, and Takeshi might have lost against him even without the unusual weapon, but he would have been able to accept that. Probably.
What made the long-haired guy different was that he used a sword, too. He knew the sword and laughed at Takeshi's use of it.
And he was right, saying that Takeshi didn't know how to use the sword, not properly. He could put power and speed behind it, and use it like a shield, or like a baseball bat with a blade, and –
And that was about it.
It was more than just speed and strength. It was like how baseball was more than just hitting the ball hard or throwing it. There was skill involved, technique developed by practice and dedication, and Takeshi hadn't realized just how much it also applied to the sword until he had seen that long-haired man move with the fluidity of someone who was devoted to something so viciously.
The next day, when the kid offered him the ring, Takeshi turned it down. Accessories were nice, but not really his thing, and he had something else he needed to focus on. Baseball, yeah, but also, he needed to think a little more about the difference he noticed, because there was more to it. The difference was serious.
Or he would have, if Tsuna hadn't been relieved at his refusal, and said the magic words that hooked into Takeshi's attention
The ring was his chance to get a revenge match with that long-haired guy?
That changed things.
Takeshi snatched up the ring before anyone else could take it and bolted, because he had a limited amount of time and a goal to go after and if he stayed Tsuna was going to try and convince him to not do it and give back the ring.
Haha, no.
It was a weirdly shaped ring, kind of ugly like it was abandoned in the middle of being formed, made of some kind of dark metal that didn't look all that important.
When he touched it, though, it felt . . . weird. Familiar, almost, like it was something he was used to.
The ring was still an accessory and he didn't like having something on his hand, so Takeshi just strung it around the chain that had come with it and put it around his neck.
The proper approach to an upcoming revenge match, Takeshi knew, was to prepare. The reason for the revenge match was always the same – loss. The motive was the same, too – a fierce desire and determination to make up for the loss, and not lose again in the second match-up.
The outcome? Would be determined by what he did.
He was coming back in ten days, Tsuna said, trying to convince them to not do it. Tsuna said it like there were only ten days. 'Only'.
If he was to look at it from a more optimistic view, he would see that it wasn't 'only'. It was ten 'whole' days to prepare.
Takeshi wasn't going to be able to prepare on his own. Baseball was a team sport, and it needed everyone to practice hard and be at their best.
This wasn't going to be a baseball match. Like the long-haired one had said, he knew nothing about the sword. That was obvious.
When Takeshi ducked into TakeSushi, his dad was scrubbing down the kitchen, brows furrowed the way he did when he needed to clean because he was frustrated or angry. It was never good to cook with an angry, chaotic mind, his dad always said. When he was mad, or when he was frustrated, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi put away ingredients and went over the motions of cleaning everything in reach.
That way, the kitchens were clean – a vital aspect of sushi-making – and his frustration could be channeled productively.
At the sound of someone entering the space, his dad looked up, and the furrows straightened from a smile. "You hungry, Takeshi?"
He shook his head. He wasn't hungry, not for food.
"Hey Dad," he said, thinking back to when he was young, and his mom used to tell him stories of how she met and got a huge crush on one of her father's students and always made excuses to hang around the dojo so she could sneak peeks at him. It was a story that ended in marriage and Takeshi's birth, but in a passing comment, she had mentioned that the reason she liked him at first was because he was the strongest one. "Can you teach me kendo?"
He was, however, very hungry for victory.
Meeting Sailor Cocoon had stirred up old memories. Not in a bad way, she wanted to say, because her focus had been on the memories she had of her mother, and Tomoe Keiko deserved to be remembered fondly.
Meeting Sailor Chu a second time had done so in a bad way, because the Death Busters simply did not.
Her parents could have given her space. That was what the shut door to her bedroom, the silence in response to their knocking and calling her name, the blanket she was hiding under implied she wanted.
They could have.
But they also knew what it was like to be silently stewing, to suffer alone, lost in their own thoughts.
They knew what it was like, to have been alone and sometimes just revert to shrinking inside to hide because they were too unsure to call for help, and they knew it wasn't the best, sometimes, so they gently breached that line.
One of her parents sat next to her, only separated from her curled up-torso by the comforter Hotaru was hiding under. Someone else sat at the head of the bed, where Hotaru's feet were, and the creak of her chair said that a third was seated at her desk.
No one said anything, but they were there, and like the ice of winter thawed by spring winds, Hotaru eventually broke the silence.
"I thought I ended Pharaoh 90."
She felt the dark being's life drain away, that chaotic being's presence fade. Death was silence. All life had a sound, unique to themselves, and death was that sound's absence. It was both great and terrible and that was why she was the soldier of silence.
In that one moment, after the gate closed behind her, she had heard the silence, felt it in her hand, around her, in her –
She had ended Master Pharaoh 90.
Had she? Because she had also meant to end herself, as well, because if she was to bring the silence of a life, then it was at the price of her own silence, too.
And Tomoe Hotaru, Sailor Saturn, died, only to be reborn, given new life, not once, in the beginning of Tomoe Hotaru's life as she was reborn into it, not twice, as a babe after her body had been destroyed and brought back and destroyed again with Saturn's awakening, but three times.
If she was given multiple chances at life, then what was to stop Pharaoh 90, the Death Busters, from receiving the same chance? Even if they were abhorrent cannibals objectively, and subjectively a part of a past she wasn't interested in ever repeating.
It might not have been immediate. It might not have ever happened.
But Sailor Galaxia and Sailor Moon had clashed, in that lonely, heartbreaking battle, before Galaxia slipped away and Sailor Moon stood alone against Chaos, and a miracle came to be in the stars shooting across the dark, vast universe as the star seeds flew back to their homes, bringing life to destroyed, razed planets.
A graveyard of stars, incapable of hosting life – star seeds extinguished by greed, cannibalized by its own residents.
What would have happened to the Silver Crystal, had the Silver Millennium not been destroyed by the Silence Glaive's fall. What would have happened, if Saturn hadn't ripped Pharaoh 90 from the surface of the planet and pushed him into the abyss of death.
The comforter was easily removed with a simple gesture. It was Setsuna that was sitting near her head, Michiru next to her feet, and Haruka on the chair.
"Does it make me a terrible person if I say I'm going to make sure they don't come back this time?"
Her parents, her fellow sailor soldiers, witnesses of the last time she had faced the shadowy agent of Chaos that had been the gluttonous leader of the Death Busters were fully biased in their opinions, and they were what she needed.
"Not at all," answered Setsuna, and a teasing light lit her dark eyes. "And this time, I won't be shutting any doors on you."
"You also won't be jumping into faraway dimensions in a suicide attack," added Michiru primly.
"I was sucked in," Hotaru tried. None of her parents looked like they bought it.
"After you hit the bastard where it hurts," said Haruka firmly, one eyebrow raised as if to say 'nice try' even as she didn't dig up and expose her white lie. "Our princess will purify the remnants so that they won't ever be able to come back."
Hotaru nodded. Alone, she had failed, but she wasn't alone. They weren't alone. It was a revenge match, for all that they had 'won' last time.
This time their victory would just be flawless. There would be no third Master Pharaoh rising from the ashes of the previous one.
Basil always assumed that he had a fifty percent chance, maximum, of meeting Sawada Tsunayoshi, and that was a generous assumption, given that he expected to die early before he even had the chance.
If everything went well, Basil knew, then he would never meet Sawada Tsunayoshi. 'Well' in his terms, of course, though his master might have disagreed with his thoughts had he known them.
But if they did meet, if Basil met the boy who his very existence had robbed so much from, then what would happen?
It was a question he had wondered for years, the thought haunting him like ghosts refusing to rest.
He always imagined a face like Sawada Iemitsu but younger, and eyes as cutting as Gabriel's, full of blame and hate and accusing him of his sin, of his crime. He imagined a voice as cold as a frozen river, hissing at him, demanding to know what a cursed child like him thought he was doing, hadn't he seen already the wreckage he left behind on people's lives? He imagined angry words spilling out like lava, fury bubbling like magma, wanting to burn Basil for his crimes until only bones were left, and buried under stone.
In his more morbid moments, Basil imagined his death at Sawada Tsunayoshi's hands. He wasn't allowed to struggle in his imagined death, to only accept it.
It figured, then, that his first encounter with the real Sawada Tsunayoshi would be nothing like anything he'd ever imagined, thanks to the efforts of Superbi Squalo. Basil was fighting for his life, for his mission, he nearly crushed Sawada Tsunayoshi to death, and then lost consciousness in the middle of it all.
Figures.
After a chaotic first meeting that went exactly nothing like anything Basil had ever imagined and he was knocked out in the figurative storm, Basil woke up in a panic.
"It's fine," said a low voice, one that might be easy to not notice, but was pleasant once you listened – rich and smooth like chocolate ganache.
Tarragon was in a chair at his bedside, unobtrusive and inconspicuous. A bland-faced woman with mousy hair and no notable details about her face, she was usually easily forgotten and not registered as a threat.
A trait that might not be as effective as usual, given the cast her right arm was in, and the bandages around her neck and on one side of her face. The eye on that side was blackened and puffed up, and her lips healing from a split, but she was alive.
She was alive. His teammate, fellow CEDEF member, partner for this mission was alive. She hadn't been killed.
Basil only received a small amount of relief from the knowledge that his curse hadn't struck again and robbed yet another person of their life because of their association to him. "The rings! Sawada-dono!"
She raised her other hand and put a finger against her lips and Basil knew from experience, both firsthand and observed, that she would wait until he shut up to continue speaking. His heart threatened to rip through his ribs for answers, but Basil forced a deep breath and all but vibrated out of his half-sitting, half-lying position in the hospital bed from the anxiety.
"The Varia has them, but don't worry." Tarragon had to raise her voice at the latter part of her sentence when Basil cried out. "The ones we had were fake."
The plan, she debriefed, after another pause to make sure he was listening. Was to catch them in a double trick. At first glance their team would look like the diversion, because a second-rate illusionist and a kid weren't exactly the dream team against the unofficial boss of the Varia.
That would be what the CEDEF would want them to think, anyone with half a brain would realize. The larger team with people more suited for the task, like Lal Mirch, was the diversion. A brazen gamble.
Which is what CEDEF actually wanted the Varia to think. CEDEF had pulled off a double diversion. Tarragon hadn't known either.
The Varia would have to split their forces between the 'diversion' and the 'real team'.
And in the meantime, the boss of the Cavallone Famiglia would be able to casually fly into Japan with the real rings, protected by his status as an ally to the Vongola if they saw through the double layer of deception and figured out the trick.
"We just weren't expecting for Superbi Squalo to be the one to come after you and I," Tarragon said with a slight frown creasing her brows, as Basil's heart rate slowed down with true relief that he hadn't messed this up. "That was where the plan nearly went belly-up."
It was, like many things Tarragon quietly summarized, a remarkably blasé way of understating what happened. They'd somehow managed to lose the Varia after them when they arrived in Tokyo, laying false trails.
Except the Varia squad they lost hadn't been all that was sent after them. Just when Basil and Tarragon had relaxed, their success was proven to be premature with the arrival of Superbi Squalo, just hours away from Namimori. Too far into the plan to try false trails again, too close to the danger that was Squalo, Tarragon had shoved the rings into Basil's hands and made an executive decision.
A woman whose greatest strength was in her siren-like voice, coaxing people to spill their secrets to her, versus the strongest swordsman of the Vongola who thrived in the Varia. And yet Tarragon had told Basil to go, told him that she would hold him off.
Tarragon hadn't lasted long, but she'd given Basil a small head start, one filled with terror that yet another member of CEDEF was dead because of him, that this entire mission was going to fail, and it would all be his fault.
"Good job, Basil," said Tarragon, voice not raising or lowering in tone, a steadiness that was quietly supportive, like firm ground under his feet. Easy to discount, but undeniably sturdy. It was genuine praise.
The delivery mission that was actually a diversion mission over, but there was a second part to it.
"Superbi Squalo took the rings, but it won't be long till they realize the truth," said Tarragon. "We need to make use of the time we earned."
"But," Basil protested, gesturing at the papers in his lap. They'd have to be destroyed soon, but Basil couldn't quite believe the words on them, and he wondered if Tarragon had him in an illusion. "Why me?"
Why was Basil being assigned in the training of Sawada Tsunayoshi to prepare him for the Ring Battle between his group and the Varia?
Tarragon considered the question with a bland expression that might seem mindless or bored to anyone who didn't know her.
"Why not you?" she asked in reply after giving it some thought.
Because of who he was to Sawada Tsunayoshi, Basil thought and swallowed the words. They were heavy in his throat, in his stomach, like a pile of rocks.
Tarragon noticed, and she slowly inhaled. "The boss has told you already," she said, voice deliberately spelled out and free of any layers. She only layered her voice when speaking to a CEDEF agent when there was an emergency or a need to calm them down. Basil knew by now what that sounded like. "None of that is your fault."
There was no compulsion in her voice for him to listen to her. Basil could easily ignore her words, kind as they were.
So he did.
"Okay," he said, letting his eyes drop to the papers in his lap like he wanted to read their words one more time so he wouldn't have to continue to let his eyes be peered into by a master of reading what was unsaid. "I'll do my best to help Sawada-dono prepare. With my Dying Will."
Tarragon was a slow talker, especially when she was genuinely engaging with someone. Basil took advantage of that and fled before she could try to convince him otherwise.
Basil hadn't lied. He truly would do everything he could to help Sawada Tsunayoshi survive his clash against the Varia.
It was the least he could do.
AN: If you thought I just brought the sailor soldiers from Fauna for the sole purpose of giving Futa's powers a backstory then you would have been wrong. This is also why they were necessary – to let the sailor soldiers of the solar system know that Tau is making a comeback.
If you think about it, Pharaoh 90 is the only final boss that wasn't actually defeated by Sailor Moon and the Silver Crystal. In other words, I saw an opportunity to give Hotaru angst and guilt and took it because she's the Fav (Readers: this person).
I am also very fond of Basil and finds it truly regrettable that he does not have much of a backstory, being relegated to the NPC role of a tutorial helper. Readers by now should be familiar with what Huinari's fondness for a character means, but on the bright side Basil will spice up plot (shot for bad pun).
Huinari's 'love' for Hotaru so far.
Frozen Time: takes away Hotaru's powers, splits her apart from her family, and gives them back painfully. Also gives her friends.
Daily Life: Outs part of her power to a friend, gives her some more friends.
Kokuyo: dumps acid on her face and outs her some more to other friends as well.
Varia: makes her feel guilty for not taking the final kill shot on an enemy that made her earlier years hellish + [SPOILERS].
(…wow I am garbage)
(please wait for the TYL Arc it gets better. And by better I mean not.)
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
There is a reason why they're friends.
Hotaru: The Death Busters aren't getting away again.
Takeshi: Revenge match!
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Sweet Dreams~