Fallen Tides
Friday was already Hotaru's favorite day of the week, but this particular Friday was special because it marked the beginning of winter break. That meant two whole weeks without being jostled in the halls. Two weeks without eating alone in the cafeteria or listening to people talk about her "weird food". Two blessed weeks she could devote to focusing her visions instead of wasting the day in classes that hadn't held meaning since Usagi and Mamoru showed up at her doorstep and left her with a beautiful sapphire necklace, a symbol of her status as a guardian.
But her mother had been right about the trinket enhancing her Third Eye. Hotaru's dreams were clearer now, but the amulet also had the unexpected effect of allowing other people's thoughts to trickle into her mind. Most of the time it was white noise she could ignore, but when the thoughts concerned her specifically, it was impossible not to catch them. Being able to hear everything that people didn't have the guts to say to her face made her sullen. She didn't really have any friends to begin with, and she soon discovered that some peers were not who they appeared to be. For instance, as she changed into her P.E. clothes, several girls who seemed very confident in themselves made silent wishes for their bodies to look like hers. They were pretty and popular, so it surprised Hotaru to learn they harbored such insecurities.
The sadistic P.E. teacher thought it would be a good idea to make his class do a two-mile run in 40-degree overcast weather, but Hotaru was prepared. She wore sweatpants and a fleece hoodie, plus a cashmere ear warmer Setsuna had knitted earlier in the month. She received a lot of genuine compliments on it, which made her smile despite the fact that her cheeks were flushed and stinging from the cold. She maintained a steady pace, concentrating on her breathing and the desire to just keep moving forward and get this over with since she'd be free as soon as the clock struck 14:30.
Hotaru took no notice of the fact that she had become a front-runner of her class, joining athletes from the football, basketball, and track teams. "Good job, Moe!" the teacher yelled, snapping her out of her trance. Apparently, she only had two laps left. She lengthened her stride, her breath becoming visible in the chilly air as she bore down on the person in the lead. 'Who's that?' the boy wondered, glancing over his shoulder. 'Holy crap, it's Hotaru!' She smirked a little. Tyler Fontaine was a varsity quarterback despite only being a sophomore. He was built like a Mr. Universe contestant, 76 inches tall and mostly muscle from his chin down. He was very desirable according to locker room gossip, and Hotaru supposed his chiseled looks were enough for most girls, but she cared way more about the inner workings of a person than their outward appearance. 'How'd she catch up to me? She's tiny! I could do a hundred push-ups with her on my back!'
Hotaru had intended to pass Tyler but slowed to match his pace when she heard his thoughts. He knew her name and had pronounced it correctly whereas almost everyone referred to her as "Moe". It had been her experience that introducing herself in the traditional Japanese manner tended to confuse Americans, and both her Japanese and Thai given names didn't have any English phonetic equivalents, so Moe had stuck. She failed to withhold a laugh at his initial opinion of her. She was especially diminutive compared to him, but that meant she had less overall mass to weigh her down. Hotaru wondered if he really could perform one-hundred push-ups while she sat on his back, or if that was a hyperbole.
"Hey Hotaru, wanna race?" Tyler inquired, shooting her a grin.
"Huh?" She blinked at him. One of the most popular boys in her grade was actually talking to her.
"To the finish line," he added. "There's half a lap left. Think you can beat me?"
"I don't know. I wasn't trying to outrun you or anything." His mind was so giddy with the thought of racing her that it threw Hotaru off completely.
Tyler laughed. "If you do, I'll cover your lunch for a week when we get back from break."
Oh, so he just wanted to make a bet for the sake of competition. "What if you win?" she asked.
"Then you let me walk with you afterward."
His random interest in her made no sense at all, but the idea of saving money on lunch was kind of appealing. "Deal," Hotaru said, and prepared herself as they arrived at the half-mile mark. The boy to her left sprinted ahead, but it was the short burst he used to get past the defensive line and score a touchdown himself while other players covered his ass. Hotaru was smaller, lighter, and didn't stop building up speed until reaching the finish line, beating him by a nose. As she came to a stop, inhaling air to cool her burning lungs, she heard peers cheering her for winning the silly competition, and she had also claimed the fastest two-mile time in her class.
"That was awesome!" Tyler praised. "Why aren't you on the track team?"
Hotaru aimed her dark eyes at the ground. "I'm not really into stuff like that." B-average student, no club or team activities, no worthwhile achievements. She purposely wanted to remain as unremarkable as possible. Her high school career didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.
"That's cool, sports aren't for everyone." He looked a bit bashful, then. "Can I still walk with you, to your main locker at least? Carry your textbooks? Do you get picked up or ride the bus?"
"My mom picks me up," Hotaru answered, frowning. "Why are you even talking to me all of a sudden?"
The suspicious edge to her tone didn't faze him in the least. "I wanted to ask you about Mrs. Watanabe's art class. I'm thinking about taking it next semester."
"How do you know I have that class?"
He shrugged, a huge motion. "The team captain is dating her daughter. She has it third period, same as you."
"Oh," she said. She didn't pay any attention to the football team, but she was acquainted with Mrs. Watanabe's daughter, Kira. Hotaru freshened up after the grueling two-mile run, rejoining Tyler at the entrance to the gym. "So, do you draw or paint or anything?" she inquired.
"I started messing around with charcoal pencils. My aunt got me a set for my birthday," he explained. Hotaru noticed that literally everyone moved out of their way as they headed to her locker. "I don't really know what I'm doing, though. So far, I've only figured out how to achieve a gradient with the paper thingy."
"That's called a tortillon," Hotaru corrected, eliciting a laugh, but at least he knew what a gradient was. Tyler held out his hands for her to set her many textbooks on, carrying them effortlessly under his arm as they exited to the pick-up and drop-off area while discussing beginner techniques. Setsuna waved from her inconspicuous sedan, eyes widening when she realized the hulking young man beside Hotaru was accompanying her. "Thanks for handling my books," Hotaru said, smiling as she accepted the heavy stack.
"No problem. Thanks for convincing me to join the class next semester. You'll still be in it, right?" His hopeful expression made her fidget.
"Yes, I should be. My only other elective will be Choir."
"Alright," Tyler grinned. "See you after break, Hotaru. Merry Christmas and happy New Year." He lifted a hand in parting and jogged over to a group of students loitering beside the bus line.
Setsuna didn't say anything until they'd left the school. "Who was that very cute boy?"
"Tyler Fontaine," Hotaru answered. "He has P.E. with me. He's thinking about taking Watanabe's traditional art class next semester." Setsuna made a sound of intrigue. "Don't even go there, Mom. He just wanted advice." No way would a social butterfly like him be interested in a wallflower like her.
"I'm sure I don't know where you assumed my train of thought was going," Setsuna returned with a little smirk. "It simply appeared like you two were getting along well, like friends."
"I doubt I'd fit into his social circle," she muttered.
"Then form your own circle with him." Hotaru made a noncommittal sound as she stared out the window. "Perhaps it will cheer you up to know that I bought tickets to see that violinist you like so much."
"Kaiou Michiru?!" the girl squeaked, "At Benaroya? When?"
"Tonight. There were a few seats left since it's a weekday, but I thought this could be a special early Christmas present." She smiled as Hotaru practically vibrated with excitement. Once home, she raced upstairs to her loft bedroom, any notion of finishing vacation homework way out of sight and mind. Setsuna spent an hour organizing her client files before changing into a black evening gown. She plaited her long hair into a thick braid, affixed a set of garnet jewelry, and pulled a faux fur shrug from her closet. "Hotaru, are you ready yet?" the woman called. "We must go now if we want to be on time." The girl appeared on the landing and struck a pose. She wore a one-shoulder violet cocktail dress with a ruffled skirt. Her heels were of the costume variety, strappy and black with purple rhinestones, and all of her wavy hair had been combed to one side, the deep side part secured with jeweled bobby pins. "Are you planning to upstage Michiru?"
"I don't look that fancy!" Hotaru protested, but was radiant as she came down the stairs.
Once they had arrived at Benaroya Hall, handed the sedan off to a valet, and loitered in the vestibule for what seemed an eon, the auditorium doors opened and everyone eagerly made their way to their seats. The curtains parted and two spotlights met on stage, highlighting Michiru while she strode to her circular pedestal as if walking on water, the teal gown rippling around her. She bowed, placed her violin beneath her chin, and the audience collectively held its breath until the first notes of Niels W. Gade's 'Capriccio' in A minor began lilting over them.
Haruka was more than annoyed at the way no one seemed to notice her crutches. She wasn't exactly hard to miss so she assumed everyone was either being intentionally rude because she was disabled, or simply oblivious. Given the amount of complementary wine and champagne, the latter seemed more likely. She had politely refused a glass someone offered her, not because she couldn't in good conscience accept free and expensive alcohol, but because she didn't want anything to dampen the performance. It had been a few years since she last saw the Stradivarius named Marina, and she looked forward to hearing its matured voice commanded by Michiru's virtuosic hand.
To be honest, Haruka lost herself in the grand sweep of the first three concertos. 'These Scandinavians really know how to compose,' she thought while taking a peek at the program. Johan Agrell's 'Violin Concerto' in D major currently resonated around her. It was fifteen minutes long but didn't seem to end. Each section effortlessly flowed into the next, and she only opened her eyes once applause filled the hall, adding her own. Michiru deserved all of it and more.
Haruka waited until everyone else in her row had left to seek refreshments before hobbling out on her crutches. There was a lot of swing in her gait due to the cast; because of it, she had opted to wear a pantsuit instead of a dress, which she generally disliked anyway. Some people gave her double-takes as she waited in the beverage line. Was she an effeminate man or a masculine woman? Haruka herself didn't always know. Upon procuring a bottle of water she hobbled over to the wall and leaned against it, the crutches taking a toll on her muscles despite her weight training regimen, and listened to the idle chatter around her. Everyone praised Michiru's ability, saying this was the best concert they'd been to all year, wondering what she'll do next…
"Um, excuse me," said a nearby voice. Haruka's eyes snapped open and looked down at the teenager standing before her. She wasn't very tall even in heels but she was also as thin as a rail. Haruka raised an eyebrow when the girl pointed at her chest. "Where did you get that necklace?"
The blonde glanced at the briolette amethyst pendant that had mysteriously appeared in her hospital bed. She wanted to ask Michiru how it got there but their conversations were limited to in-person visits due to the fact that Haruka's cell phone had been crushed in the crash. "I'm not really sure," she answered. "It just showed up while I was in the hospital."
"Are you that racecar driver who got hurt last month?" the girl then asked. "I saw it on the news. You must be– you have the same hair."
Haruka reflexively ran a hand through her blonde locks. "Yeah, I'm Haruka Tenou. Do you want an autograph or something?"
The girl shook her head. "No, I was just wondering… Well, it's complicated."
"Out with it, kid."
Now she glared. "My name is Hotaru, not 'kid', and I'm only four years younger than you, so don't patronize me." Haruka was taken aback by her brazen attitude. "I want to know where you got the necklace because I'm pretty sure it's the reason why I can hear your thoughts so clearly."
Haruka scoffed. "Are you for real?"
"Seriously! You think Michiru looks very beautiful tonight, and her playing has improved so much since high school, and you hope there's a chance to accompany her on the piano again, presuming you decide to stick around Seattle." Haruka waved her hands as Hotaru offered a smug little grin, lowering her voice. "These necklaces were only given to certain people. Did you get it from Usagi?"
The name rang a bell. "She's one of Michiru's roommates, but I've never met her. Not while I was conscious, at least."
Hotaru nodded sagely. "That means you're a planetary guardian like me, my mom, and Michiru." She then eyed Haruka with interest. "Since you have a history with her, maybe you could help us arrange a get-together?"
"I guess I can try," Haruka mused. "I don't have a VIP pass or anything, but I'm sure no one's going to forcibly stop me from looking for her." After divining Michiru's location from a few stagehands, she went right into the preparation room backstage without even knocking.
"Haruka!" Michiru exclaimed, throwing her arms around her neck, "You actually came!"
"I said I'd be here even if I had to roll up in a wheelchair," she replied, hugging the violinist with one arm.
"You don't seem much better off on those crutches!" Michiru pulled back to meet her eyes, her own sparkling, until someone cleared their throat. "Oh, where are my manners? These are my friends from Cornish, Matthew and Samuel. Matt is a producer and Sam plays all kinds of instruments. Guys, this is my very dear friend from Mugen Academy."
The boys had been surprised by Haruka's brusque entrance, composing themselves enough to shake hands. Setsuna and Hotaru stepped forward. "Hi, Michiru," the girl said shyly. "I'm Hotaru and this is my mom, Setsuna. I really enjoyed the concert tonight, especially the Jean Sibelius piece. You were beyond amazing."
Michiru smiled, idly reaching for her aquamarine pendant. "Thank you for those kind words, Hotaru…" She trailed off when the girl made the exact same movement at the exact same time. A frown turned her lips as she glanced between the pair, a spark of familiarity igniting in her memory. Where had she seen these dark guardians before? 'Guardians?' she then questioned, for it was an odd word choice.
"Are we still going back to my place for celebratory drinks?" Matthew inquired, ending the awkward silence.
"Yes, of course," Michiru answered, shaking her head. "Haruka, Setsuna, Hotaru, I would be honored if you joined us."
The guest trio ended up trailing a limousine into the heart of the city where Matthew's family's penthouse was located. "So she's friends with rich kids now," Haruka muttered. "That's fitting."
"Don't worry, there's still a special place for you in her heart," Hotaru said. "Even if I couldn't hear either of your thoughts, it's pretty obvious the two of you have an intimate history." Haruka turned slightly pink at that as Setsuna told her daughter to stop poking around in other people's minds. "I can't help it, Mom. Their thoughts are crystal-clear as if I formed them myself."
"That doesn't mean you need to use your insight to embarrass Haruka or Michiru," Setsuna chastised.
Hotaru's expression fell. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Haruka-san? I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. I've been called every name under the sun for a queer woman, so being known as 'Michiru's former lover' is totally fine." Hotaru took that as an invitation to ask a few more non-invasive personal questions, fascinated by the fact that Haruka had found success in the male-dominated field of rallycross. They were laughing and getting along quite well when the unthinkable happened. A truck barged into the intersection, ramming the limo and trapping it between the brush guard and a light post. Setsuna brought her car to a sudden stop as all three occupants gaped at the collision.
The driver of the pickup stepped down. It was a woman wearing a dark blue split-tailed jacket, leather pants, and knee-high boots. They were too far away to discern her facial features, but they were able to make out the long, curved swords on her back. She approached the crushed side of the limo, effortlessly ripping the door off and flinging it away, revealing the terrified forms of Michiru and Samuel. Matthew appeared to be unconscious. "Get out, get out, get out! " Hotaru shouted, beating Haruka's and her mother's shoulders with her small hands. Forgetting her crutches, Haruka stumbled from the car, clinging to the side for support. As she leaned across the hood, wincing in pain, the sword-bearing woman lifted Michiru out of the limo and held her in the air like a rag doll.
"Let go of me!" Michiru cried, clawing at the hands with her long nails.
The woman only sneered at her. "I don't think so, Thalassa. You were lucky to escape my minion before, but that witch isn't here to save you now. This time, I'm going to make sure you die." The hand tightened around Michiru's neck, cutting off her air supply. She no longer thought about why this was even happening; she just wanted to live, and to do that she had to fight back. She began by kicking wildly, striking the side of her captor's knee. The woman cried out, released her, and stumbled away. Michiru landed awkwardly in her heels. "There's the look I was hoping to see," the woman sneered, "but I can tell your strength is only a fraction of what it used to be. You don't have a chance at survival without it!"
"Why don't you quit gloating and tell me who you are?" Michiru demanded.
The woman's eyes widened while her pupils constricted, turning her countenance even more maniacal. She drew herself up and unsheathed the swords, gripping one in each hand. "My name is Salacia, and these blades are going to ensure you never forget it." She dashed forward, weapons raised to slice Michiru in two.
"Nooo!" Hotaru cried, reaching for the virtuoso. Salacia gradually slowed down until she halted altogether, posed like some kind of dynamic statue. Setsuna and Haruka stared in disbelief while Hotaru could only boggle at her outspread fingers.
"Members of the Outer Alliance!" Everyone glanced around to find the source of the high, clear voice. A small black shape approached from the opposite side of the intersection, a cat that ran right up to Hotaru and placed its paws on her leg. "I'm glad to see you've begun to awaken, but I wish it had been under different circumstances! Michiru, could you come here?"
"Luna?" she gawked. "You… you're speaking! Am I dreaming or something?"
The cat bobbed her head. "Yes, I can speak, and you are regretfully not dreaming. Salacia does indeed intend to kill you." Luna jumped onto the hood of Setsuna's car where she sat primly. "Now then, I believe each of you has an amulet in your possession?" The four women reflexively touched them. "This is your fight, Michiru, but it will be good for the rest of you to get accustomed to your celestial forms. What you do is say the name of your planet followed by 'Millennium Power, Release'. Give it a try."
"Our planets?" Setsuna repeated. "How do we determine them?"
"They are designated by your zodiac signs," Luna answered.
She looked down at the black opal glittering on her chest, then closed her eyes. "Pluto Millennium Power, Release," she said evenly. Setsuna was not expecting her necklace to swell with energy and wrap her in a protective auric layer. A feeling of dread began to well up but she embraced it, knowing this was how her enemies felt when they gazed upon her. Clad in titanium armor as black as night, her iridescent gown winking like thousands of eyes in the shadows, the reincarnation of Princess Cora, Plutonian Soul Seer, was an intimidating sight to behold.
Hotaru felt the power radiating off her adoptive mother and wanted to experience it for herself. "Saturn Millennium Power, Release!" she shouted. Her transformation was much slower and subtler. She grew slightly taller, her features wizened, and grains of silver sand landed upon her skin to form an ensemble of innumerable tightly-linked chains. When she opened her eyes, all traces of Hotaru were gone, replaced by a stoic individual who viewed the world through a callous lavender gaze. Princess Moira had risen from the depths of her soul, one of the most powerful rulers of the Silver Era who possessed the ability to perceive strands of Time.
Hotaru held out a hand toward Haruka, her fingers moving as if manipulating a puppet. "What are you doing?" the blonde asked, gasping as pain lanced through her thigh and her broken bones fused with an audible grinding sound. Haruka took several deep, recovering breaths before tapping her cast, then gave it a harder whack. "You healed me?"
"Child's play," Hotaru said, shrugging.
Haruka rested weight on her leg. It didn't hurt at all but she couldn't take off the cast herself, and if she went to the hospital to have it removed they'd ask how she healed so quickly. Putting those worries aside for now, she gripped her amulet. "Uranus Millennium Power, Release." Wind blasted her, almost knocking her over, but she held her ground until it calmed and swirled playfully around her. Haruka felt more like a knight than a princess in her etched platinum breastplate over a cloth tunic and leggings. She wore sky blue thigh-length boots and matching long gloves, her limbs protected by articulated armor.
"It is your turn," Luna said to Michiru. "Are you prepared to embrace your destiny?"
"I thought it was just to become a world-renowned violin player…" Michiru muttered. Couldn't they leave the scene, contact the police, and have the woman arrested? A little voice inside her, the voice of Thalassa, warned that Salacia would just keep hunting her down, stalking her through the streets of Seattle until trapping her in the shadows beneath some viaduct. Dismissing that gruesome image, Michiru placed her palms on her chest and said in a strong, clear voice, "Neptune Millennium Power, Release!"
At first, she didn't feel anything while the other three stared at her expectantly. She gasped as she was yanked down into a cold, dark void. The pressure increased, hurting her ears, and then she was free, emerging onto the surface world. She wore a teal high-low dress and macramé sandals. Spiraling armlets went all the way from her wrists to her shoulders. The crochet wrap around her hips was embroidered with seashells, pearls, and glass beads, and atop her head sat a spiked coral crown, clearly denoting her status as the Lady of the Sea.
"Are you ready?" Hotaru asked, hands poised toward Salacia.
"I don't even know how to fight her!" Michiru replied, helpless. But that wasn't true; she felt a faint tugging sensation around her feet, like lapping waves as she stood on the shore. In this form she had complete mastery over the ocean and could command it just like the conductor of an orchestra. She nodded and Hotaru flicked her wrist, freeing Salacia from stasis. Michiru flexed her fingers as the woman crashed into the limo, glancing around furiously, then her eyes landed on the violinist and she smirked.
"So you've transformed into a semblance of Thalassa. I hope this means you're prepared to die with some dignity."
"I don't remember you posturing so much, Salacia," she returned. The swordswoman stalked toward her but leapt back when the manhole cover in the intersection flew off, gushing water. Whatever Michiru envisioned became reality; her seawater obeyed by forming a column and striking Salacia in the chest, throwing her into a building. The woman sputtered, flung wet hair off her face with a snarl, and dashed forward yet again. But her swords were angled differently, and Michiru wasn't expecting a white crescent to come flying at her. She dodged too late and got hit in the side, the impact making her cry out. The crescent shattered as it struck, scattering across the ground to where her allies stood.
"Is that salt?" Haruka knelt to pick up a few granules and, after a moment's hesitation, put one on her tongue. "It's sea salt!" she confirmed.
"Salacia is the Roman name for the goddess of the sea," Luna provided. "She was exiled from Neptune for attempting to murder the queen, Doris– she always desired to be in a position of power. Salacia was on Tartarus when they attempted to abduct Helios, but thankfully they were rebuked by brave celestial guardians."
Haruka was about to mention that nothing Luna said made any sense, like she should even try finding the logic in a talking cat at this point, when images of a fierce battle flickered through her mind. She saw a dry, cracked plain dotted with misshapen humanoids emerging from a column of malignant energy. Thirteen medieval warriors surrounded the column, all wearing different garb and wielding unique weapons. Haruka assumed they had converged to fight off the monstrous creatures from all across the globe. A newly-awakened sixth sense informed her that this was Luna's vision, so she must have answers if she had experienced such events firsthand. "Who are they, those celestial warriors?" Haruka asked. They seemed familiar yet different in a fundamental way.
"They are your allies across time and space," Luna answered, smiling with her feline features.
Haruka sighed and resumed surveying the fight. Michiru looked beautiful in her divine ensemble, and her hair had even turned aqua in color. Her graceful, purposeful movements opposed Salacia's reckless attacks, and there was no doubt in Haruka's mind that Michiru would prove victorious. She had quickly adjusted to the rhythm of battle, learned to read her opponent by predicting her offense and counterattacking appropriately. Salacia's wet blades flung water droplets everywhere, occasionally spattering the three guardians on the sidelines.
Members of the Dark Cloud were hunting them, likely had been for a while now, so Haruka knew one of them would eventually come after her in an attempt to finish her off. 'If I embrace this power, I should be okay,' she thought, glancing at Hotaru and Setsuna. They were silent and motionless, observing now just as they had during the Silver Era. Would they be more proactive this time around instead of standing back and letting the world go to hell in a handbasket? The ancient soul inside her, Aura, yearned for answers. Why had Cora and Moira forsaken the remnants of humanity in their greatest hour of need?
Michiru was fed up with this battle; she just wanted it to be over. She commanded the fountain of water to form a sphere around Salacia. She tried to slice through it but a thick layer of coral on the inside negated each slash. In no time at all the woman was encapsulated except for a tiny opening at the top. Michiru poured more wintry ocean into it, gradually replacing Salacia's air supply. She heard the woman choking and gasping, pounding on the sphere with her fists in an attempt to break it open, howling at the fact that Thalassa had defeated her after several millennia of dormancy. Finally, Salacia stopped moving, her ireful gaze now dull and lifeless, and Michiru willed the saltwater to return to its source. Her attempted murderer had been reduced to a waterlogged corpse lying in the intersection.