The battle of the Mist ended cleanly. Much more than the Storm or Rain, both of which had left major damage to the buildings they took place in. The Cervello said they were keeping the school intact during the day via illusions, and that they would be restored when all the battles were complete, and while Kawahira had frowned at that, nothing they did ever seemed to draw anything other than a negative reaction from him, so his reaction wasn't completely unusual.

It was in that clean gymnasium that bore no trace of what had happened that Kawahira gently prodded her memories. "I believe we had something to discuss?"

For a moment Saturn had no idea what he was talking about, until she remembered. Oh, right.

"Sorry for listening in," she said, again, after she and Mercury exchanged looks to reaffirm and reassure that yes, this was what Saturn wanted to do and that she would be alright, and the older sailor soldier left to give them their privacy. The words felt empty, especially because of what she raised for him to see.

"Curiosity, Pandora, we're good," he said, like saying a few keywords was far more efficient than repeating his earlier words, or saying something similar differently.

After his permission, silence passed between them, not quite awkward but heavy with uncertainty and fear. Maybe on both their parts.

The years that Tomoe Hotaru had lived with the man going by the name of Kawahira Riku and his 'grandmother' had been peaceful. She had missed her family, had not enjoyed the pain that came with being close to them, but there would be no denying that she had not been able to find a sense of serenity during her homestay.

Granny, though she could be abrasive and firm, was a woman who by nature was kind and considerate of others. Every part of her was genuine, from the blunt words to the eyes that sought to actually see a person for who they were. She was brash because she was honest.

And Kawahira. Acheron. He was often busy, and during the early days of her stay he had been careful to keep a bit of a distance between them, but had warmed up to her, just as she had to him. Step by step, bit by bit, he had lowered his guard, and she had lowered hers. It was easy to talk to him, who knew the duality of her identity. That it was not just the one aspect of her, that he understood the other part of her. And accepted her, too. And maybe that was like that for him, who lost his fellow guardians, who still clearly mourned them. Maybe he wanted someone who could see him as not just the name and identity he had on display for others, but also the part of him that was living a different time from those around him.

It was a process that took some time, because Tomoe Hotaru, Sailor Saturn, was also not someone who easily let others in, but they both gave each other access past their boundaries, the walls they had inside.

The process had been during a time of peace, neither parties strained or under duress. Yes, they had stress and strain – her because of her pain and being apart from her family and him from the work that had him returning home exhausted down to his bone – but never had that been directed at anyone other than themselves, internally, and certainly not at each other. There had been no lashing out, no conflicts, no fights. No need for them, really, as the quiet peace of mutual respect allowed them to slowly raise their wary heads out of their high-raised walls and reach out.

But some walls remained unbroken, some lines uncrossed. She knew him, and knew that he might flee now. Venus had uncovered too much of him, perhaps too quickly, when he was not comfortable with exposing the raw parts of himself, and now there was something in his eyes that suggested that he might try fleeing, if only to lick his wounds like a hurt animal in a safe place, away from any that might exacerbate them.

Saturn wondered now, if there would be the first conflict in their relationship.

"Why?" she asked, deciding that she needed to be brave. The soldier of silence, breaking the silence. The first step, though a very small one.

It was too vague, left too much open to interpretation. The ball was in his court, and Saturn hoped to give him some control with it.

He returned the favor and consideration with his own, though he did so by forcing her to be specific. "Why do I love you, or why do I fear you, or why do I fear those that I love? Or, why do I fear the sailor soldiers?"

The way he phrased it made it known to Saturn that he knew the reason for her hesitance.

The first three questions, Saturn had a fairly good idea for his reasons. Because they were alike, and if someone asked Saturn why she cared about Kawahira she would say because he knew her beyond just the one aspect of Tomoe Hotaru, because he had been there when she was vulnerable and in need of help. Because they got along rather well. Just as she knew him as both Kawahira Riku and Acheron, because she had been there to witness him struggle to speak of what happened in his long life, because the silence between them was comfortable in the way that communicated without needing words.

And for his fear of her, Saturn could give a few reasons, too. Because she was Sailor Saturn, soldier of destruction would be the most likely reason for most people, but for him, who kept that slight distance sometimes, as if he needed to take a small break from his reality and just catch his breath to truly see that what he had was real, it was because he was too used to losing those he loved.

Not just because of the differences in lifespans between him and friends who had been human – like Takeshi's past life – but also with those like him. Sephira, his leader, and the other guardians. It would be akin to, from Saturn's perspective, losing the other sailor soldiers, and even Sailor Moon. In that sense he was better off than she would be in the same situation.

Given her track record of dying, Saturn couldn't exactly blame anyone for worrying about her death, even if they knew she was a sailor soldier and all that came with it – the longevity, the permanent youth, et cetera. Or maybe because she was a sailor soldier, he would worry more. By birth she was conscripted to a war that would never end – the constant, eternal struggle between Order and Chaos. It was not a life that would make loved ones feel secure.

Saturn could guess as to what the first three answers would be. Maybe not the full details, but she could hypothesize a guess for their direction.

But the last question.

"The last one."

It wasn't that she couldn't, but more like she didn't want to.

Judging by how Kawahira winced, he really didn't want to either.

Iemitsu owed Gabriel a lot. So much. He and Timoteo had been better fathers to him than his own old man had, and then there was Matteo, who was a whole other can of worms himself. A brother to Iemitsu when he had been suffering from the guilt of not having been able to protect Ietsugu. The honorable thing to do would have been to forgive the man, or at least try to be lenient with him for all that he owed the man, despite everything else.

But when given a choice between honor, and making sure that his family was safe, Iemitsu would be an honourless bastard every single time.

"I'm fine," he grunted when Turmeric nearly panicked at his shifting. After he sent the word, Lal led the team into the hidden chambers, and Turmeric and Oregano had both flipped upon seeing him bleeding. "Check on Gabriel."

"Who cares about that bastard?" Turmeric demanded, unusually angry. Or not, because most of CEDEF hated Gabriel for his treatment of Basil. "Sir, you got shot in the chest. By him. This blood we see here? All thanks to that son of a bitch."

The only few who didn't outright curse Gabriel were Basil and him, and that was because of unnecessary guilt, on Basil's part, and the weight of the past on Iemitsu's.

"It's not the first time that's happened." Honestly, it hadn't even hit anything important. It was just a nick and maybe a fracture or two, something that could be treated without leaving any problems. Gabriel should have gone for the head shot, instead of choosing the 'safe' choice that had a lesser chance of missing. But, well, he was a terrible shot, so if he had aimed for the head there was a chance the bullet would have swung wide and missed altogether when Iemitsu lunged him. At least aiming for his chest managed to land a hit on him.

Speaking of Gabriel, the older man was restrained a little further away, under the watchful eye of Oregano, whose eyes and gunpoint were trained on him, which meant that unless the world suddenly folded in half, he wasn't getting away. His face was pale and sweaty from the pain of at least one broken bone, but he was holding onto consciousness remarkably well.

Gabriel leered at him, a taunt that made Oregano frown in disapproval, but it didn't affect Iemitsu the way he wanted it to.

"We need him alive," repeated Iemitsu, eyes trained on the old man who had pretended to be their boss and driven his son into what was planned to be a death match. "As proof that there was an attempt made on the life of Vongola Nono by an internal advisor, and conspiracy against the candidate of Vongola Decimo."

Gabriel was fuelled by his desire for vengeance, something that stemmed from the murder of his son. Iemitsu wasn't sure what kind of a person he would become if Tsuna died the way Matteo did, but he was going to do everything in his power to not find out.

Even if it meant turning in Gabriel to what would undoubtedly be the gruesome death befitting that of a traitor. Even if it meant swallowing his anger and making sure to keep him alive for an execution to ensure even a slight bit more safety for Tsuna.

Today, the bomb that had been being built since Matteo's murder and Iemitsu's choice to protect Basil from Gabriel finally detonated.

As with all explosions that he survived, Iemitsu had to pick himself up and deal with the aftermath. Somehow.

"Sir," said Sorrel through the comm that Oregano had given him. "Basil just sent word. We found Nono, but you need to get back to Japan now! It's a trap for your son!"

His heart dropped. And Gabriel, even with his restraints and injuries, began to laugh, a wheezing cackle squeezing out of his lips like a dying breath of Pyrrhic victory.

"I need a moment to organize my thoughts and give a coherent answer," Kawahira murmured, rubbing his temple. Absent-mindedly he snapped his fingers to create things to sit on, uncaring of how the recliners he made clashed with the inside of the gym. He took a seat, and so did Saturn.

That moment was, to Saturn, the time that she had where she could technically put a stop to all this. She could tell him that it was okay, that she didn't need him to answer.

But Kawahira hadn't asked for that time for that purpose, and Saturn had no right to back down when she had asked.

"Do you know why the Golden Kingdom was special?"

The Golden Kingdom, the place where Mamoru's previous life had been born. The prince of Earth who fell in love with and was loved by the princess of the moon.

"Because of Prince Endymion?"

Kawahira grimaced like he was disappointed by the answer he received. "Well, he is a part of it, but there's more to that. The kingdom was found by a man named Aeneas."

She had read enough books to recognize that name from the myths. "Of the Aeneid?"

"Of that legendary tale, though several details were embellished. The quick summary is that he was the son of a princess of Troy. He was, by the way, three when the Trojan War started, and thirteen when he fled with other refugees after its fall."

"Then during the Trojan War-"

Kawahira nodded. "He did not fight in it. That was part of the embellishments. On the run, he grew into a man, and eventually led his people to a small kingdom where he won the hand of the princess and became king. That was the start of the Golden Kingdom."

Aeneas was, in the myths, a son of Aphrodite. But Kawahira had said that he was the son of a Trojan princess. The royal line of Troy? Was that what made the Golden Kingdom special?

"Troy is," he paused and sighed heavily. "Troy was a turning point. Up to that point, the gods involved themselves frequently upon the lives of mortals. 'As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport'."

Saturn recognized the quote. "Shakespeare."

"A very talented man, and his words accurately sum up the gist of what it was like, in those times." The grin that he gave at her recognition faded quickly, like the joy required to keep his smile alit was too small to last longer. "The gods I refer to, as I'm sure you've realized, are the residents of the Silver Millennium. Coming to Terra for what I suppose was a vacation, of sorts. In a manner similar to the careless tourists of modern times."

Saturn knew the Greek myths – knew that in them, the gods could be quite cruel to mortals. Maybe not deliberately sometimes, but in the way that inevitably came to be with the sheer imbalance in power.

Kawahira smiled wryly, as if he knew what she was thinking. "The Trojan War was just the culmination of the buildup in the line of much – abuse. While some may have meant well, the system itself was inherently flawed, and gave too much power and too little oversight to the visitors. It was a system made to be easily abused, one that did not give much concern from the perspectives of Terrans. As seen when a war was staged for entertainment. The razing of a city, for the entertainment of those by the Silver Millennium."

The Trojan War – one known in the myths as the war started over a golden apple, a beautiful woman. Helen was known as the face that launched a thousand ships.

A war in which the gods took sides, and for ten years a war was waged until Troy was razed.

And here Kawahira testified that it was more than the already-senseless tragedy it was, that it was far worse.

Wide-eyed, she looked at him, praying that he would say it was a joke, made in poor taste, that he had lied.

But he didn't take it back, and she was forced to accept that terrible truth.

"What about Queen Serenity?" Sailor Saturn asked, when she found her voice again. She had the most memories from the previous life, but that was because she had so little to begin with. When all that was to be remembered was the memory of waking up with the inherent knowledge that the time for her duty was here at last, and swinging down the scythe as required, there was very little needed.

The others, for all that they couldn't remember their past lives in full, still had more than she did. It was the difference between one hundred percent of one, and ten percent of a million.

She didn't know, and that was why most of what she knew about the Silver Millennium had to come from others. It was not something she knew, personally.

But even so, she could not imagine Queen Serenity abiding such a thing.

"She passed the law forbidding contact between Terra and the rest of the Silver Millennium after seeing the outcome of the Trojan War." He grimaced. "The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only at the falling of dusk."

The very same law that had made Princess Serenity and Prince Endymion's love a forbidden one. Literal star-crossed lovers. That law had a purpose, a reason for having been passed.

"The stopped contact as a result of that law was not the only effects that Terra saw from the Trojan War," he continued. "While Troy was destroyed, there were still survivors – those who had fled as the Greeks sacked and burned the city. They did not make a home in the ruins of their old abode, and went elsewhere to seek their fortunes and new lives."

Kawahira had already said as much, when he said that Aeneas –

Oh. Oh.

But he had just explained who Aeneas had truly been, and the background of what that meant, and that meant –

"The Golden Kingdom is one that was created by the survivors of a war that was set up as a stage for the Silver Millennium's amusement," Kawahira said softly, like he hoped that would make the breaking of news kinder. Easier. "And Elysium, the temple that had been its heart from the start, was made not to worship the gods, but to be vigilant against them."

It was that careful approach that made it more difficult. If he had been accusing, if he had been angry, then Saturn could have also been angry, retaliatory.

But the attestant of the history Saturn had not known of was cautious, as if he was the offender and she the victim, and Saturn could not be angry at this fragile side Kawahira showed even as he told her that he was someone who was by role supposed to be wary of them. Her.

"The Golden Kingdom's prince and the Silver Millennium's princess falling in love," said Saturn, trying to find the answer that he was dropping hints towards for her to follow and figure out. Trying to make it less painful for both of them. The band aid needed to be ripped off. "A way of – trying to make up for the past wrongs?"

A full circle come to pass? Open ends to be closed on the tapestry of fate? The princess of the gods, who would one day be their queen, and the prince of the descendants of those that had been wronged by the gods.

"There's more to it," Kawahira said after a pause. "But that part, I suppose is possible. Fate does work in strange ways."

Fate, that two people should be born so perfect for each other in such situations, or coincidence? Romeo and Juliet, on an interplanetary scale. Saturn took a deep breath because she had been holding it.

"But do you remember what caused the Golden Kingdom and the Silver Millennium to fall, two thousand years ago?" he prodded gently.

"The Dark Kingdom's rise." The answer was automatic. She might not have been involved in the fight when they returned in the modern time, but the inner soldiers had been. "Queen Beryl and Queen Metallica."

"Well, they were the leaders, and definitely willing to use anything and everything in their bid for power," he whispered. "But Hotaru-kun."

Saturn stilled at the crossing of identity. That was deliberate. Before she could figure out why he chose to do so, he continued.

"They used dark magic to turn those of Terra, yes, and they corrupted minds and souls, but it was the Terrans that gave them an opening."

Because everyone had both Order and Chaos inside them, and it was creation that was difficult. Magnifying something already present was by far easier.

Kawahira didn't break his gaze, and so Saturn did, turning her eyes downwards.

"You're afraid of us," she said, and he had already breached the boundaries between the identities so the 'us' did not include him. "Because you're afraid we'd be – tyrannical?"

"That is only a small, very unlikely scenario, because I know you, and of the future queen," he said. "Except – and I mean no offense – I also worry about the opposite."

Saturn raised her eyes.

"There is also the possibility," Kawahira pointed out, and it was almost diplomatic, his mannerisms, like this was a delicate thing to say. And it was. "That Terrans will turn against you, in fear. After all, we do have a history of that."

There were five stages of grief in the model created by Kubler-Ross. In a way, despite there being no death, it was appropriate for what she went through.

Denial.

That no, such a thing couldn't happen, surely not. He was being ridiculous.

Anger.

How could he say such a thing? It was a betrayal, his fear that they would turn on him, and it could be construed as a threat too, for even suggesting that the people of Earth would do something similar to what happened in the time of the Silver Millennium.

Bargaining.

Surely he didn't mean that. It was the worst-case scenario he was trying to outline, him being cynical and pessimistic again. Just the basics of bargaining, to lay out the extreme before haggling so that the final price seemed reasonable. That was all. That had to be all.

Depression.

It was not hard, unfortunately, to remember just how much people could dislike the different. Distrust, fear, and attempt to destroy the different.

Intolerance of the different came very, very easily, that Sailor Saturn and Tomoe Hotaru knew all-too well.

And he said himself – that Terrans had already done so once.

Acceptance.

". . ."

"As I've said before, I think." Kawahira tried to smile, and his lips gave the end result that was better described as a grimace. "Self-defense is completely justified, but some wounds aren't the kind of blood and flesh."

What an eloquent but roundabout way of saying that he was worried about the sailor soldiers being hurt by prejudice and intolerance of differences. That he understood should the worst come, because he knew, too, what horrors the intolerance could result in, but still feared anyways because he worried, had seen history repeat itself over and over again through his long life. That if what he feared did happen, he would understand, but still be torn apart between what he knew and what his duty was.

Even an elegantly decorated dagger wielded apologetically could still stab, however.

It was stupid of her. He wasn't wrong to fear – what he feared. Fear was irrational, sometimes, and given that he was who he was, and what he'd seen, Saturn should have been grateful that his fear was rational, all things considered.

But heartbreak was also irrational, too.

Why, she wanted to ask. Why are you making the lines between victim and perpetrator so blurry until I don't know who is in the wrong, and what the problem can be specified down to?

And, if she were to be less rational in her questioning the source of the pain, if she were to be a little more honest –

(Why are you hurting me?)

"Can we talk the next night?" Saturn ended up requesting, and it hurt to swallow tears that she refused to shed. The one thing she knew was that she was not alone, and that this was not just her call to make. She needed to update the others on the revelations that Kawahira had chosen to make tonight – especially Mamoru and Usagi.

Kawahira nodded, looking rather exhausted himself.

Exhaustion, however, was not an excuse good enough for Saturn to not recount this conversation to the others. At least, not for herself.

"Maybe he thinks I'm a traitor?"

Mamoru suggested, because voicing that felt good in a way. The memories of his past life that he had found once more, especially those near the moment of his death, were that of an army led by Beryl, but also –

Complaints that he was seduced by the witches of the skies, whispered rumors that he was a traitor to the kingdom, accusations that he was no longer their prince but a puppet.

He would not have chosen the path where he did not love Serenity then, because he wouldn't have been able to. He could not choose anything but Usagi now, because to do so was to die for him.

And he did not think the love to be wrong, or the cause of it.

How then, did he convince a man who he couldn't even see, who did not like him, that his love would not end up being the spark to light the fires of damnation?

Hotaru tried to reassure him.

"I think he blamed himself most," she said.

She was probably correct, and Mamoru tried to not show how it made him feel worse. If he'd only been able to reach Acheron before he fell into that funk, then maybe he could have helped the man. Reassured him of his worries so that he didn't turn the blame inward towards himself.

The Shitennou lowered their heads in shame when he summoned their spirits to ask. Mamoru apologized for digging into their sore wounds, but he needed to confirm from a different perspective.

"While we weren't quite aware of the . . . historical background this Acheron presents," Kunzite said slowly, speaking as the leader of the four. "He is not wrong, in saying that we were stirred and raised in fear and distrust at the time."

Mamoru looked at the silver-haired man. He had regained memories of teasing the general, over the emotions he held for Sailor Venus, emotions that despite his best efforts he could not hide. How did you hide the sun's lights with a pair of hands struggling to touch the sky? It shone so obviously in Kunzite's eyes back then that Endymion had wondered if he was the same, with Serenity.

"And that was easy to take advantage of," Kunzite continued. "In retrospect, there was fearmongering that sowed the seeds of discords within our minds and while that does not absolve us of blame, it is easy to address that fear and say that we are acting for the good, for a worthy cause."

It left an opening in their hearts, where dark magic could seep into. And it was easy, for dark magic to control people when it was based on what they truly wanted – or thought they wanted.

The people of the Golden Kingdom had wanted, at the time, safety and security. Something he had thought he could bring his way, but had failed to reassure or convince others to see from his point of view, or see from theirs and better understand.

Leaders that fought for reform, history showed, sometimes failed because those that opposed the change had them killed. It had been their hill to die on, just like how he chose to die for Serenity.

In that sense, Mamoru supposed that his past life was a failed reformer. He and Serenity, trying to make a world where their love was not deemed wrong.

"Master," said Kunzite, and the Shitennou looked at him, awaiting. Though their gazes were immaterial given their spiritual existence, there was no denying their importance.

"This changes nothing," he said. Terrans ended the Silver Millennium. The residents of the Silver Millennium hurt Terra.

It wasn't exactly a clean mathematical equation, because it wasn't. It was the acknowledgement that there was potential to hurt each other. Earth's people and those who were once of the Silver Millennium's. Acheron and Mamoru.

Just like every relationship, good or bad.

Acheron was worried that there would come a time when history threatened to repeat itself – that the sailor soldiers might be forced to raise arms not because they wanted conquest, but for self-defence.

It was understandable, his worry. Acheron was a priest who had spent a very long time protecting this planet, carrying a great burden despite his losses. Of course he feared anything that could threaten it.

But Mamoru was also a protector of Earth. And protectors could not just turn away and flee when things got tough.

"I don't care if it's a hard fight," he continued. "I'm not giving up."

Endymion hadn't given up in, and Mamoru wasn't going to do it now.

He was, however, open to advice and suggestions, even if the source of that happened to be very elusive and disliked him.

Of course, the universe promptly decided then to assure Mamoru that he was not allowed to confront Acheron until the priest wanted to talk.

His communicator beeped in high frequency – the alarm for danger.

By the time Saturn was at Pluto's castle, the battle was already over.

"You're hurt," she said to Uranus, who had more than just a few cuts on her face and arms. A bruise was around her neck, and one arm was a little limp at her side.

Uranus shrugged with the shoulder that didn't have a hanging arm. "You should see the other guy. Or guys, I guess."

Pluto's screen did that for Saturn, playing out the brief but fast battle. Not long after the small – ship? Vessel? – broke through the parameters that would alert them, Uranus and Neptune were there, flying in with wings spread behind their backs like avenging angels.

With Neptune covering her back, Sailor Uranus threw herself into their midst and started to churn up a storm of blood with involuntary contribution on the part of the Daimons.

Daimons. Because Saturn recognized them, too, just as Uranus had. Whatever hosts they had used and then taken over was impossible to identify by sight alone, because all they could see was the sludgy darkness of their grotesque forms.

"There were too few," Pluto noted, once the playback finished, with the Daimons reduced to dust to scatter in space. There was a slight burrow between her brows.

Neptune nodded, while Saturn healed Uranus. "Even if their leader doesn't plan on coming in person, this was still too easy. Surely there's more to them than this?"

"A vanguard," Mercury suggested, "or a scout?"

"They could be testing our response times," said Pluto, and the furrow between her brows that was thoughtful turned hard.

The fastest sailor soldier of their star system huffed. "I'm tempted to turn the tables on them, see how they like it if we take the fight to their home."

Saturn blinked. That was a thought. Why hadn't they done that, again?

"Let's not fight the energy-sucking cannibals on their home territory," said Neptune dryly.

Right, that was why.

Mercury stifled a laugh. "This tested our response time, too," she said softly. "I'm more concerned, though, about if they try a pronged attack."

A classic strategy, and an effective one, both historically in general and in their situation, because they couldn't not respond to that.

"Make a sound in the east, and strike from the west," Neptune murmured. "Do we want to split up our teams? Respond with one soldier per disturbance?"

Venus, who was attending via communicator, disagreed. "We shouldn't split up. Horror movie wisdom and common sense aside, I don't want anyone being caught without backup of at least one other soldier. If it's a distraction, then two of us should be enough to respond accordingly, and if it's an invasion, then Saturn can come and sweep them away."

"Shouldn't I be on patrol, too?" Saturn asked, raising her point of concern. If she was going to be needed, then it made more sense for her to be at the ready than . . .

Than, she had to make herself think, after the mental equivalent of falling silent. Staying up and sneaking over to a school she didn't even attend to watch a secret fight secretly.

It was almost over, anyways. Tonight's was Hibari's, and it was supposed to be the second-last. Takeshi and Tsuna were going to win tonight and tomorrow night and then things would be back to normal and they would stay normal because Saturn was going to make sure that Tau's parasitic monsters would not make a host of Earth and all its people like they tried last time.

Neptune's poker face was perfect, but Uranus hesitated, just a moment too long.

Oh.

They were going to let her do what she wanted. Let her prioritize her friends being in battle over some hideously tacky accessories when they were about to be invaded by monsters feeding on life energy. She was their best choice against their upcoming invaders, who were here right now as this vanguard had proven, and Saturn, Hotaru, was giving them doubt. Doubt that she couldn't be with them.

(Again.)

"I should be on patrol," she said firmly, to hide that one moment of almost breathtakingly crippling insecurity she had nearly been swallowed by, the feeling that Tomoe Hotaru was ruining Sailor Saturn, and Sailor Saturn ruining Tomoe Hotaru by clashing with each other's priorities.

They were all understanding about it, which was simultaneously supportive and guilt-wracking.

"I don't suppose I can persuade you to switch partners with me, Pluto?" Neptune said lightly, as a jest. "I'd feel a lot safer with Saturn."

"Not a chance," said Pluto dryly, but her lips quirked up.

Saturn smiled, or tried to at their attempts to make her feel better.

There wasn't even the latter half of a weird in-school battle to watch to take her mind off, once she got back.

"It lasted a minute, if I'm being generous, but if I'm being honest, then maybe ten seconds," said Kawahira, letting her know that the Cloud Battle was over. Hibari Kyoya would have been fighting tonight, and Uranus had expressed her curiosity for how it would go.

"Fast," was his reply to that question. "And merciless. I think I blinked and it was over."

So Hotaru was in bed at a semi-reasonable time at night for the first time in days, and still unable to sleep because she was frustrated at everything.

Her life, she lamented silently, and turned on her side, glaring at her wall before squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to force herself into sleep.

Magic involving memory was always a little tough, because of the delicacy of the subject. The persistent could pick out inconsistencies in their own recall if it were too glaringly obvious. Like lies, it was the small details, based off truth that made things easy to affect memory.

But at the same time, memory could be fickle, and as an expert on being fickle, as well as a person who used sleight of hand and manipulating perception for centuries, Acheron was very good at placing the details to get the results he wanted with the minimum required influence.

He wasn't Sephira, he didn't have the Sight to just see one's soul bared before him. He had to make do, subtly layering magic over everyone so that if needed, he could place whatever was necessary without resorting to extremes.

A good thing he had done so, because Arcobaleno, by nature of what they carried, made it difficult for him to affect as well as he could most others. The stones protected their hosts from him, perverse as the thought may have been.

Acheron knew how to get around the obstacle they could be, but it was still annoying.

In this case, it was a small thing. Reborn having had a 'talk' with Hotaru – completely natural, something he had no doubt that the hitman would have done.

All he tossed into that very likely scenario was a limitation. Not even a limitation for Reborn, but a limitation discussed in that conversation that had happened – knowledge of a limitation.

Just the knowledge that the healing Tomoe Hotaru was capable of was not something that could restore energy. It was in physical wounds – tears, fractures, burns. Fresh wounds about to start healing. Nothing on the scale of stopping death, of reversing time.

It was not a lie, and it was carefully trickled in so that the pacifier could not keep his reach at bay.

The results might have been considered minimal. There was no phone call made to a certain number.

But that was exactly the result that Acheron had been looking for, so he was satisfied.

He leaned back, after realizing that he'd been leaning forwards in his concentration. Waiting with baited breath, he thought sarcastically.

"Well?" he asked aloud.

The Cervello standing behind him said nothing. It had been a vague remark, Acheron admitted to himself, and their intelligence had always been a bit stunted.

It tended to happen when their intelligence was limited – when their very purpose was not to live but something else entirely. Resolve planted in them belonged to someone else, and they obeyed it with a single, dedicated focus that also limited them.

But what could the imperfect create except more imperfection, anyways? And what could the morally bankrupt fanatics do but corrupt and twist up the results of kind intentions with their interference?

"Not going to chew me out for interference?"

"There was no interference," droned the Cervello.

He knew very well that there hadn't been. Acheron thrived in loopholes and skirting the rules.

Maybe the Vongola Nono would die. Not that Hotaru's help would have made a difference, because it was his Flames that had been sucked out of him, the old man a vampiric prey attached to a hideous device, and that was not something the princess of Saturn's healing could address properly.

But for that futile result to be made known, Acheron had no intention on sitting back and watching Tomoe Hotaru be further exposed to the physical proof of darkness lurking in the hearts of humanity. As someone who witnessed what happened when people like her got involved with their likes, Acheron really would prefer for history to not repeat itself.

AN: I'm a nurse being paid now whoo (in other words updates are just as sporadic as ever).

The Kawahira-Saturn conversation originally went with Kawahira talking about how he nearly lost his powers during the World Wars because he was so depressed and losing himself, but that was too Kawahira-centric even for this arc, and also getting way off track so I cut that out. Maybe I can put that somewhere else. Hopefully. If not it's just going to appear in the interlude as a flashback to the time when Acheron nearly died because he was so out of it with despair he couldn't care for himself.

I forgot to mention this before (I think) but this story is also an exploration of Sailor Saturn/Tomoe Hotaru. I'm putting in all the head canons and queries I have regarding my favorite sailor soldier. I have no life outside of school (formerly) and work (now).

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Mamoru: There are things I did not know, and I acknowledge that, but it doesn't change that I'm still going to dedicate myself to the wellbeing of this planet. And I will make that clear to the annoyingly vague mist man.

Tau: KNOCK KNOCK

Universe: lol no.

+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+

Sweet Dreams~