Reclaiming Life

A/N In case you didn't know, Motoki= Andrew/Paul, Naru=Molly, Umino=Melvin, Yuuichiro=Chad. If you don't know the senshi names in Japanese, I'm sorry. Get Sailor Moon S on DVD, uncut! It's so awesome! This is my first full-length serious SM fic, and it's Mamoru and almost Motoki centered. Don't be turned off by the beginning, it's not what it appears.

The Helplessness Therein

Part I- Reclaiming Life

            The darkness pounded in his head as he lifted his hands. Jagged cuts embedded themselves therein, blood seeping from them onto his sheets and blankets.

            He got up from bed to look in the mirror, only to see blood seeping from similar cuts on his face as well.

            With no one to call to for help, he fell to the ground.

            "Huh?" Mamoru shook his head, waking up. Blood ran clamorously through his temples, and he closed his eyes, bringing his hands up slowly to meet them.

            "Phew," he sighed loudly, then collapsing in his relief.

            But he knew he'd woken up for a reason, so he transformed, feeling sick, clad in a tuxedo and top hat. It felt wrong on him, stuffy as if brand new.

            What's the point anymore? He asked himself.

            The engine of the motorcycle shattered the peaceful state of the neighborhood, and he hoped that he hadn't drawn their attention to Motoki's apartment.

            "Huh?" his eyes suddenly widened, and he grasped his calf, bringing it up to his face only to find it covered in blood.

            Mamoru turned around slowly, reluctantly placing his bloodied hand back on the handle of his bike.

            "Uranus," he whispered, turning back around and speeding up as quickly as possible as his face was inches from being ripped off by the space sword.

            He knew his riding skills were no match for Tenoh, no match for a world renowned racer, but when his life was at stake, he wasn't about to roll over and turn in the towel.

            "Turn around and face me," she shouted, coming up to the side of Mamoru's bike. The street fled beneath it, and he could hardly bear to look at the wispy blonde hair which protruded from the helmet, and most of all he could hardly bear to look at the hardened eyes she wore, eyes filled with nothing but hate for the traitor.

            Mamoru could do nothing but ride on, trying to get in front of his adversary.

            "I'll kill you eventually, traitor," Uranus shouted, "so why even bother?"

            There was a time when Mamoru might have shouted back to her, asking her who was really the traitor, but it'd been done too many times. It had failed too many times.

            Why am I always drawing myself out into this? He wondered. I should have stayed in bed—

            His wandering thoughts caused Uranus to get the better of him, stopping in front of him, playing chicken with his feelings for her, the feelings of a lost alliance which he could not shake.

            So, of course, he skidded to avoid her. He flew off his bike into a railing near the local park's lake. His added strength keeping him from passing out, he struggled to stand, lest he die.

            Get up, Mamoru! He ordered himself. But who was he getting up for?

            Instinct flipped through him and attacked his arm, causing it to grab his cane and thrust it out in front of him while he still sat stunned. It clanged against the impermeable metal which was the space sword, and sweat racked his face in fear as he engaged in fencing combat with Sailor Uranus.

            He had done this before as well, but he never won, he always escaped with his life. He was quite the skilled fencer, and he would have thought better of his odds had he a better tool to fence with, but Uranus had at least his skill, and twice the bravado as one who didn't fear her own death.

            But why should I fear mine?

            Mamoru mustered his strength, letting her sword near his neck enough that if it had life he could have felt its heartbeat, then he shoved her backward, back into the night, buying himself time to stand and ready himself.

            He didn't know why she always bothered sword fighting him when she could blow him away with one world shaking. He figured she must want to torture him rather than kill him quickly, which somehow seemed very unlike her.

            She came at him again, and his eyes narrowed as he readied himself for an attack.

            "Why is it just you?" he asked as blow after blow was rained upon him, causing him to back into the railing once again. The water below was turbulent, though the air was still. "Where's Neptune?"

            "She had other business to attend to," Uranus smirked.

            Then it's not Neptune causing the water to do that, Mamoru's heart began to pound even more quickly then it had been, oh no—

            "Argh!" he shouted as his head was thrown back and his body was immobilized. Cold wracked his entirety, and Uranus walked up to him casually.

            "Why fight me when you're outnumbered?" Uranus asked, lifting her sword to deal a final blow.

            Don't do this, Uranus, he pleaded, wanting to move his eyes to see where Mercury was, but even they were frozen open. He could hardly see anyway, the ice which glazed his eyes fogged his vision.

            "Die now, traitor!" Uranus shouted, bringing the sword down. The sword was about four inches from his nose when Uranus suddenly dropped the sword and began shaking, her mouth lolling open as electricity wracked her entirety. She fell to her knees, white electricity still pouring through her, not stopping until she was face down on the floor.

            Jupiter? He blanched, but why?

            The ice ceased to hold him after a moment, and he fell to the ground as well. He could see Mercury from the corner of his eye, standing near a tree, powered up to super sailor mercury.

            They really had it out for me today, he thought as he tried to stand, still shaking and unable to regain his vision.

            "Come on!" his savior shouted, running up to him and hoisting him onto a motorcycle.

            "How?" Mamoru asked, short of breath, "how did you?"

            "I followed you when you left my apartment," Motoki replied sternly as he drove off toward his apartment. "I made the taser with instructions online after nothing was safe anymore—after seeing who you were, I had the foresight to bring it with me. God, Mamoru, if you're one of them, then why did they attack you?"

            "I'm a traitor," he coughed, and then lost consciousness while draped across his friend's back.

-*-*-*-*-*-

            "Ohhh," Mamoru lifted his hand, reaching for his head. His hand was put back at his side by a soft, friendly hand, and a finger put to his lips. The person's other hand was dabbing a warm wet towel at his head, and everything seemed blurry as Mamoru opened his eyes.

            "Where are we?" Mamoru asked.

            "The Hino Shrine," Motoki replied, "it was close, and I didn't want them following us back to my apar--"

            "Oh shit," Mamoru sat up quickly, everything suddenly coming into focus, "we gotta get out of here!"

            "Huh?" Motoki seemed puzzled.

Yuuichiro entered the room, cold compresses in hand.

"You really got it," he commented as he handed the compresses to Motoki. "I haven't seen you in so long, you never hang out with the girls anymore! I'll go tell Rei you're here, she'll want to see you--"

"No no no no no!" Mamoru shouted in a whisper, jumping up and grabbing Yuuichiro by the collar. "She can't know I'm here! I just have to leave!"

"Whoa," Yuuichiro held up his hands, "it's all right dude, I won't tell. Are they all pissed at you or something? Did you dump Usagi?"

Mamoru's breath suddenly ceased, and he held his hand over his mouth as he began to choke for air.

"I don't want to talk about it," he whispered again, "please, don't even tell her I was here, if she doesn't know already."

"I won't," Yuuichiro agreed. "You can always apologize--"

"Look," Mamoru clenched his fist at his side, trying to remain as polite as possible, "you don't even know the half of it."

"He's right," Motoki agreed, grabbing Mamoru by the wrist. "And we're outta here. Thanks for the help, Yuuichiro."

"No problem," the young man replied.

"What happened to my bike?" Mamoru asked as Motoki dragged him to his.

            "They jacked it," Motoki sighed. "I'm sorry."

            "Oh hell," Mamoru bit his lip.

            "Mamo-kun?" Motoki lifted his head and turned toward Mamoru before straddling his motorcycle.

            "What?" Mamoru replied, waiting for Motoki to reply before getting on the bike himself.

            "I want you to tell me everything," he affirmed, then pulled his helmet on. "I already know you're Tuxedo Kamen."

            "All right," Mamoru agreed, "but then I'm leaving, or you'll be in more danger."

            "I'll be in more danger without you," Motoki rolled his eyes, "they already saw me."

            "Good point," Mamoru nodded, feeling defeated.

            And they rode back to Motoki's apartment, unaware of the fire-filled eyes which watched their departure.

            The wind riled Mamoru's senses as they swerved in and out of cars on the freeway. Mamoru must have detransformed after passing out--he barely knew how he had kept his misfortunes from Motoki for the past month, and he cringed thinking that his secret had slipped--he usually prided himself on being able to guard it--but at least he wasn't alone.

            How selfish! He chastised himself, I've dragged my best friend into danger he'll never be able to handle, and all I can think about is my loneliness.

            But at least he wasn't alone--anymore.

            "Do you have to work today, Motoki-kun?" Mamoru asked as they stopped in a parking space at Motoki's apartment building.

            "I told my dad I was taking care of you," Motoki shrugged, "so he's taking over my shift at the arcade until you're well. You know, Mamo-kun, I could just quit, if it came to that."

            "You need money!" Mamoru argued.

            "Explain to me how bad the situation is," Motoki twirled car keys on his fingers, then walked up to his door and scrambled for the right one, "and I'll decide how much help you need."

            "What do you want to know?"

            "Why did the senshi go bad, for starters," Motoki opened the door, allowing Mamoru to enter first. "And why 'Tuxedo Kamen' is a traitor."

            "I don't know why they went bad," Mamoru shrugged, "all I know is that they all did, and I didn't, and now my life is hell. I wish I could bring myself to join them, then at least I wouldn't be hunted by the people I love the most."

            "Usagi is one of them," Motoki deduced while closing the door, "isn't she?"

            "Y--"

            "You might as well tell me who they all are," Motoki reasoned, "you have no reason to protect them from me."

            "She's Sailor Moon."

            "So you were dating the leader, huh?" Motoki scratched his chin, then sat down on his sofa, patting a seat next to him for Mamoru to adjourn to.

            "Yeah," he laughed, "though I never really thought of that much. I was too busy with my own, my own, oh, I don't even know anymore. But I wonder--I wonder if I was better to her, that she might--"

            "That girl loved you more than life itself," Motoki turned his head toward Mamoru. "You must have been doing something right."

            "Yeah," Mamoru rolled his eyes at himself, leaning back into the sofa, "I was dating someone more loyal than a golden retriever."

            "And you think you took her for granted?"

            "I did."

            "Now isn't the time to worry about that," Motoki changed the subject. "You have no idea why they're bad?"

            "Well," Mamoru shuffled his feet, "one time I cornered Usagi, asking why, and she said that humanity wasn't worth it. I mean, if you knew anything about her at all, you'd know that's something she'd never say. They're hardly the same people anymore."

            "She didn't kill you?" Motoki seemed astonished.

            "No," Mamoru scratched his chin, "and she very well could have."

            "That means something, if you ask me."

            Mamoru looked to his feet.

            "Mamo-chan," Usagi smiled up at him, her eyes partially closed as he kept his arms around her waist. "I wish we could always be like this."

            He nodded, not even smiling back.

            He always had to be like that, didn't he? He couldn't express how much he loved her. Did he just have to seem cool? Now that he didn't have her, it seemed so strange. He had no idea how he couldn't have just taken her in his arms and laughed with her. He'd give his life for her without one look back, but the night before she was gone forever as he knew her, he didn't pour his heart out.

            I didn't know, of course, he told himself, and it was true.

            He didn't know it would be their last night of happiness together, and that the next day he'd have to run from her.

            Maybe she came around, he perked up.

            "Motoki," he looked away as if he was going to ask something obscene, "may I use your phone?"

            "As long as you don't call any 900 numbers," Motoki joked, and then tossed him the cordless.

            Mamoru smiled weakly at the joke and held the phone tightly in his hand, dialing his voice mail number slowly.

            Maybe she called? He deluded himself.

            The first message was an unexpected one, though strangely welcome.

            "Hi, this is Naru," the girl introduced herself, "I had to call you--I have no idea why Usagi's been acting so strangely lately, I was wondering if you could help me, please call me back, the number is 868-4210. Bye."

            Naru-chan, Mamoru pursed his lips thoughtfully. He didn't think anyone had noticed the senshi acting strangely while in their civilian forms. This actually made him feel better.

            "This is professor Hasagawa," the next message began. Mamoru took a long, regretful gulp. "I don't normally do this, but you were one of my best students. If you don't come to class tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll be dropped. Please get in touch with me at the college."

            Sorry Hasagawa-sensei, Mamoru sniffled, I'll probably never come back.

           

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

            Haruka wearily pried herself off the asphalt, feeling exposed as she had detransformed at a weak time. Where was everyone to help her? Things sure had changed.

            She brushed herself off shakily, the night teasing and worsening her bruises and wounds as she hobbled to her motorcycle, feeling completely alone in the world.

            "Did they turn on me?" she worried. "Was that Jupiter?"

            She put her helmet on and rode off, feeling as if she could collapse again at any moment. But she had to get out of there--at least before morning.

            Michiru would make her feel better. There was no way Jupiter had turned on her--Mamoru must have gained some strange electrical power. She shuddered as she contemplated what it would mean if that were not in fact the case, and she couldn't even think about it.

            The apartment seemed lonely from the outside, the darkened sky leaving her with a hollowed impression of its exterior. No matter, it wasn't the building's edifice she was interested in, even if the lights coming from her window were dim enough to bring a scowl to her visage.

            She held her hand to her chest as she tightly clutched the railing while walking up stairs. Her clothes were torn, and a streak of blood fell from her lip and careened down her neck.

            "Michiru," she dabbled her tongue in it unhappily as she pawed at the door handle, to weak to open it. She rang the doorbell on her way to collapse on the ground.

            The door was opened sometime later, by a male.

            "Dorian," Haruka looked up at him unhappily, wishing she had the strength to stand and be hostile towards him. "What are you doing at my house?"

            "Visiting," he frowned, "if that is okay with you."

            It's not, she thought, but decided not to press the matter as he picked her up and brought her to the sofa. Her muscles became completely tense as he did so, and his face seemed to lack a necessary spit shine as she looked up at it. Still, she couldn't move very well.

            "Michiru?" she gasped, "where's my Michiru?"

            The aqua-haired woman entered the room a few minutes after Haruka's inquiry, which Dorian had ignored.

            Oh my God, you're hurt! Haruka wanted her to say, like she would have said before, but she merely got a cold stare.

            "What have you done to yourself?" Michiru asked.

            Haruka's chest tightened as she asked this, too coldly. So coldly.

            "I got in a fight with the traitor," she frowned. "Someone electrocuted me--I can hardly move--Michiru?"

            "And you didn't win again, I suppose," Michiru frowned. "I suppose we should take you to the hospital."

            "Michiru!" Haruka whined, and it seemed strange to see her emotions bared as she held out her arms, tears struggling to stay in the corners of her eyes.

            Michiru walked over to Haruka and stroked her face, but it didn't assuage Haruka's longing, somehow.

            "Mercury said you could have killed Tuxedo Kamen," she narrowed her eyes at the same time she doled out her meager affections, "but you didn't."

            "That's not true!" Haruka frowned, "I was going to kill him!"

            "You can't sympathize with him," Michiru pulled her hand away from Haruka's face. "That would make you a traitor too."

            "I don't!" Haruka cried out, fighting her desire to lose consciousness. Why won't you hold me? Is it because of this Dorian person?

            Normally she would have asked, but heaven forbid she should question Dorian.

            There was something wrong with that guy, something just detestable that made Haruka want to world shake him until his head popped off. A feeling would well inside of her each time she thought he pulled Michiru away from her, but it was involuntarily suppressed at the same time.

            I guess I try to be too in control of my emotions, she thought bitterly as she couldn't even rouse anger within herself to question why Michiru was being so different, so distant.

            "Are we going to take her to the hospital?" Dorian looked up at Michiru.

            "We wouldn't want her to die, would we?" Michiru replied, with a casual air that made Haruka want to stand up and scream.

            And who would she turn to? Not Usagi. The one time she actually needed the girl to be her support, the one time she wouldn't have been to proud for the love of her princess, she would be turned away.

            Dorian must have been spreading it around that I'm a traitor, Haruka spat out at him in her mind as he lifted her to take to his car. Damn bastard.

            She didn't know what she'd do if they began to try and kill her, but she didn't want to be alone and hunted, not like Mamoru. She didn't even want to go against her fellow senshi like he did, and she still might be shunned for it.

            If she had the strength, she would have killed Dorian then.

            "I'm not a traitor," she whispered in the car, wondering if Michiru could even hear her from the back seat. Instead of sitting with her love's head in her lap, making sure she was all right, Michiru was in the front seat, not even caring if Haruka bled to death from her lip.

            "What's happening with us?" Haruka whispered, realizing that neither Michiru nor Dorian could hear her. "Months ago, you would have screamed at the sight of me passed out outside our door. Three weeks ago you were still crying because of Hotaru's disappearance."

            You're the traitor.

            Haruka almost gasped audibly as she grabbed the sides of her head and purged this thought from her mind.

            Michiru would never be a traitor. She must have been acting strangely because she missed Hotaru and Setsuna, maybe even regretted having to kill traitor Mamoru. Haruka would have to allow for that. To do anything else would be wrong.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

            "Usako!" Mamoru woke up screaming. "Usako!"

            "Mamoru!" Motoki ran into his room, placing a hand over his friend's mouth. He still appeared blurry to Mamoru. "You wanna tell the whole world you're here?"

            "Let them kill me," he shouted, "just let them!"

            "Now Mamoru," Motoki hugged his friend, trying to make him feel better, "we'll get through this. You're the world's only hope against the senshi, anyway."

            "Oh come on," Mamoru wiped his eyes, "one of them has the power to destroy the world in a single blow, one has the power to stop time, and Usako was the most powerful of all! I don't do anything except distract and motivate!"

            "Then you'll motivate them," Motoki announced sagaciously. "You might not be able to kick their asses, but you can bring them back."

            "Or die trying," Mamoru sniffled bitterly.

            "We'll all die trying," Motoki released Mamoru from his grip. "It's all we can do. Besides, if they could have destroyed the world already, why haven't they?"

            "I don't know," Mamoru sank into his pillow, "I haven't seen Hotaru or Setsuna, maybe they're saving them up."

            "Well, it's four o'clock, anyway," Motoki changed the subject, "you've been napping forever. Let's go get some ice cream and cheer you up."

            "If I don't get killed on the way," Mamoru flippantly redressed, shrugging and closing his eyes as he stepped out of bed, rubbing his eyes softly to try and get them to focus correctly again. Would Ami one day feel bad for worsening his vision?

            Mamoru felt groggy from having slept too long, and dressed as slowly as was humanly possible. Motoki was already ready, but he waited patiently.

            "I'll get the paper," Motoki suddenly remembered, and ran to the door from where he was sitting on the couch, as if Mamoru were going to be ready soon anyway.

            Motoki opened the door and reached down for the afternoon paper which was delivered outside his door only to find a cat sprawled in the hallway. Motoki cautiously walked over to it, and touched it with a finger. There was a small blue case fallen near its mouth and between its paws, and there was a yellow crescent moon on its forehead, almost a bejeweled tattoo.

            "Mamo--" it turned its head, saw Motoki and nearly freaked, "I mean, uh, dammit, mrow?"

            "Mamoru!" Motoki yelled behind him, lifting the cat in his arms. It meowed in discomfort, and was slack in Motoki's arms. "I think this is something you need to see!"

            "Huh?" Mamoru poked his head out of the bedroom he was in, only half-dressed. His shirtlessness didn't matter after he recognized the cat in Motoki's arms.

            "Artemis!" he shouted, and dashed over to where Motoki was, relieving him of the feline burden. "Speak to me!"

            "I heard it talk," Motoki scratched his head, "I thought you being Tuxedo Kamen was weird. But a talking cat--"

            "He knows you're Tuxedo Kamen?" Artemis asked weakly.

            Mamoru nodded. "He knows everything, except about you and Luna. Aren't you one of--them?"

            "Was," Artemis convulsed suddenly, and Mamoru gingerly laid him on the couch.

            "He had this with him," Motoki announced, handing Mamoru Artemis' package.

            "You stole this?" Mamoru's eyes widened.

            "I didn't want them to be able to find your motorcycle anymore," Artemis frowned, "that's how they kept tracking you. But I guess it doesn't matter, now."

            "You stole Mercury's computer for nothing," Mamoru whispered, mostly to himself.

            "No," Artemis disagreed, "not for nothing. It will make things harder for them."

            "Why'd you turn away?" Mamoru winced.

            "I snapped out of it," Artemis shrugged. "Minako said something, something--I don't even remember, and I suddenly wondered who this person was. She wasn't my Minako. Luna wasn't my Luna anymore."

            "So you will be able to save them, Mamoru!" Motoki's eyes lit up.

            "Whoever did this underestimated me," Artemis closed his eyes. "Whoever it is won't anymore."

            "So you're under mind control?" Mamoru tilted his head.

            "I was," he began to find breathing more difficult, "and Luna was, but I think everyone else's minds have been altered. They tried to kill me when I tried to tell them that they were under mind control, I thought they could snap out of it like I did. They figured out that it was me who hid Mercury's computer, and I had to get out of there. Now I know what it's felt like for you, my best friends trying to kill me all the sudden--"

            "But they couldn't," Mamoru's mood dampened.

            "N--" Artemis convulsed again.

            "Don't talk," Mamoru suddenly became animate, "just rest."

            Artemis nodded, and fell asleep almost immediately.

            "Talking cats," Motoki stated, emotionless.

            "This one was Minako's guide," Mamoru sighed, speaking mostly to himself.

            "You need to take your life back," Motoki looked up at Mamoru, his somber eyes lifting with the sagaciousness of someone who'd lived a thousand lives. "You can't live without being Tuxedo Kamen for the senshi, can you?"

            "I used to shun it," Mamoru turned away. "I used to hate the fact that I had to do this, but now that it's gone--"

            "You never realize it until it's gone," Motoki nodded. "Do you think we ought to get this cat to a vet?"

            "I don't know," Mamoru shook his head, "I don't know what happened to him. I don't know what a vet could do if he just got beat up on."

            "Well," Motoki reached over to the sofa, gently petting Artemis as he slept, then reaching to the table and pocketing Mercury's computer. "I have more experience with technology, anyway--"

            "I don't think we can actually use that computer," Mamoru protested as Motoki flipped it open and turned it on, "part of it is Mercury's visor, what if it alerts her--"

            But he found himself speechless as Motoki himself wore the visor as soon as the computer was switched on.

            "You be Tuxedo Kamen," Motoki began fiddling with the computer as if he were a child who had just received a toy for his birthday, "and I'll be your techno-dweeb slash taser expert, all right?"

            "I don't want to drag you into this," Mamoru coughed, sidestepping until he was right next to Motoki, where he looked over his shoulder at the computer screen. "I don't know what I'd do if I got you killed."

            "Oh," Motoki nearly drooled as he became familiar with the computer, using it to scan for all sorts of things, "trust me, I'll be all right. And look, this thing keeps perfect track of all the senshi. We can find them whenever we want."

            "Or at least make sure they don't find us," Mamoru sighed. "Artemis will be able to help you with that a lot when he wakes up."

            "Sure sure," Motoki shined him on, "I want to know all I can about it."

            "Can I use your phone?" Mamoru asked Motoki before sitting down.

            "Heck yeah," Motoki replied, too engrossed in the computer to be truly paying attention.

            Mamoru shook his head, both in disbelief from actually having a partner to help him reclaim his life and in gentle disapproval of Motoki's lack of seriousness in light of the situation. He sat at the edge of the sofa, careful not to wake Artemis, and then he picked up the phone.

            "Hello?" the person on the other end answered.

            "Is Naru there?" Mamoru asked.

            "This is her," Naru replied.

            "Hey," Mamoru relaxed into his seat, "this is Mamoru, I'm returning your phone call."

            "Oh," Naru seemed relieved, "hey Mamo-kun!"

            There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment as Naru didn't know how to ask Mamoru what she was dying to ask before making small talk, but she was too stunned to make small talk.

            "Naru-chan," Mamoru softly broke the silence, "tell me, how has Usagi been acting strangely lately?"

            "You haven't noticed?" Naru became a chatterbox once again, "she doesn't even  care anymore when her grades are so awful. She skips school all the time, and Mako-chan and, and even Ami-chan have been doing it too, and I'm really worried, I haven't seen you in forever, are they all into drugs? Because I mean it sure seems like it."

            "They're into something," Mamoru held his forehead with the hand not holding the phone, "and I don't want to talk about it or be involved in it. But--"

            He tried to choke something out, but couldn't bring himself to do it. So silence ensued.

            "But what?" Naru pried gently.

            "If you ever see her," Mamoru gulped, "please tell her I love her, and that I'd do anything to have her back. I'll always believe in her, no matter how bad things get."

            "You're a good guy, Mamoru," Naru nearly whispered, "I hope she realizes it and goes back to you."

            "I'm a horrible guy," Mamoru slighted himself, "and I never deserved her, but yes, I do hope she comes back to me."

            "Don't say things like that," Naru softly replied again, "it's not true." Her voice suddenly became louder, and perkiness returned to her. "But, hey, I think that everything always works out for the best in the end if you don't give up! If you ever need anything, I'm here for you! Are you sure you don't want to tell me what they're doing? Because I'll give Usagi the bruisin' she needs if--"

            "I can't," Mamoru lowered his head, barely able to speak anymore.

            "I understand," Naru replied demurely, "I won't press it."

            "Thank you," Mamoru stated sincerely.

            "I'll let you go now, but if you ever need me, call. Please."

            "I will."

            "Ja ne!" Naru's uplifting smile could almost be seen through her voice, and Mamoru couldn't help but feel a little better.

            "Ja na," he replied in kind, then pressed the off button on the phone.

            Mamoru placed his head back on the sofa, the sweltering confines of the hell he lived dissipating from his mind as he closed his eyes.

            Mamo-chan! I made you cookies!

            Cookies?

            I loved those cookies. They tasted like love, if you ask me.

            I will take back my life, Mamoru clenched his fist. I will have you back, Usako!

           

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

            "The Entity," Eternal Sailor Moon curtseyed to the best of her ability, "what is it you wish of us now, my lady?"

            "Take this, Usagi," The Entity replied, and a small, obsidian-black, peanut sized vile appeared in the air before her hands. "Place it where a great deal of people meet, and let them be silenced."

            "Their deaths shall be my responsibility," Usagi stood, taking the capsule as she did so.

            The Entity disappeared, and the door behind Usagi opened, and her senshi poured in, single file.

            Usagi relayed the battle plan to them, acting as their one and only leader to obey.

            "We shall not fail you," all the senshi said at once, though when Uranus said it, it was a little too shaky for her liking.

            "And all traitors shall be murdered," Sailor Moon boomed, her warning indirectly aimed at Uranus, who nearly fell off her knee as she curtseyed.

            "All traitors shall be murdered," they all repeated, then Sailor Moon turned around, and they all stood before her as one.

            Sailor Moon walked over to Uranus, lifting her chin. Moon was on her toes as she did this, since Uranus was so much taller, and for the first time in Tsukino Usagi's life, she was more foreboding than Tenoh Haruka.

            Uranus' eyes filled with shock as Moon looked into them coldly, her lips bent into a thin seriousness that Uranus had never seen before The Revolution. The isolation of the dome-shaped room seemed to hit Uranus in all directions at that moment, and she gulped as Sailor Moon continued to stare without speaking.

            Sailor Moon let Uranus' chin down roughly, then pranced out of the room, her head held high.

            I truly am alone, Uranus sobbed inwardly, gazing ahead with steel otherwise. But I'll prove myself to them, I swear it.