The GoLden Rule

I kept on creeping just the same, but I looked at him over my shoulder.
"I've got out at last," said I, "in spite of you and Jane.
And I've pulled off most of the paper, so you can't put me back!"
-Charlotte Perkins Gilman, 'The Yellow Wallpaper'





Chapter 5: Creeping Just the Same

She cupped the violin to her chin, and under her hands, she felt the smoothness of the polished wood. Few people would expect Michiru to have calluses on her fingers. But years of pressing down the tension in the violin strings had strengthened her skin, and made it hard. The sounds she called from the Marine Cathedral poured through the hall, rising and falling as an ocean will dip and swirl, constant and changing. Swan Lake. The story of Odette and Odeel, of the handsome prince, and the wicked wizard and the swans who turn to women by the moonlight. The sounds of the ballet welled up against the acoustics of the hall. If she opened her eyes slightly, she could see the lights from the stage reflected in their eyes, against glasses and faces. Gowned women and men in tuxedos, their eyes on her.
Black velvet pooled around her feet, the length of the train on her dress falling in folds of drapery. The lights from the theatre were hot, and though her hair was piled on top of her head, faint tendrils close to her neck stuck there. And the notes died away to a breathless silence. Then into a thunderous applause, as men and women stood, clapping their hands to complement her on her performance.
Kaioh Michiru removed the violin from her cheek, and held the bow delicately as she bowed in gratitude for their approval. The stagelights darkened around her, but the hands did not stop clapping. A curtain call, then a second. Michiru had tears in her eyes. This was her first professional performance, first time as a solo act, on the world stage. And she was accepted.
Finally, as all things must, people became quiet again, standing and gathering coats and hats, standing and leaving the concert hall, walking back up the red carpet. And so Michiru also turned to leave, placing the violin back into its velvet lined case.
"Hey, great concert, Miss Kaioh!" One of the techies called to her, and she smiled and waved back. Soon she would be going to a limousine, escorted to her future life as a violinist.
She determined to slip out the side. People still milled in the opera hall's main lobby, chatting as they departed and waited for taxi's. Wanting to be unseen until her arrival at...where was the next destination again? Michiru couldn't remember. Well, surely the driver would know where to go.... She sighed, wishing that one of the audience members hadn't been able to slip past security. A young woman in red silk, in imitation of Chinese dresses.
"That was a wonderful performance, Michiru-san," the woman said as she leaned against the wall, arms folded. The backstage area was decorated, renovated several years ago to a classic appearance. Scarlet wallpaper and mahogany wood in the halls, lush carpet. Heavy portraits and paintings. And mirrors, such as what the girl stood before.
The fact that the woman said so in Japanese was not lost on the violinist. It had been several months since she had been home. "You're from Japan?" Michiru asked, slightly startled, but pleased.
"Hai," came the response. "Watashi wa, Hino Rei."
"Kaioh Michiru. I'm very glad you enjoyed the performance, Hino-san."
Rei nodded, straightening herself out. "Back to a hotel, Michiru?"
"Iie, there's a reception....somewhere..." Michiru tried to explain, but couldn't quite remember yet. Where was the reception? Someone had to know...that was important, wasn't it?
"Everything all right, Michiru?"
The violinist touched her head with her callused fingers, trying to sort out her thoughts, which had become convoluted. A familiarity with the woman across from her, standing there so calmly, watching her. She should know this person. This was a person...who represented... something...something Michiru did not want to be part of....
"I'm fine," Michiru snapped, fighting the confusion in her mind. "I'm not signing autographs...you should leave, Hino-san. Backstage is off limits." And so she brushed past the raven haired young woman, hurrying to rush away.
"You know you have another duty. You know that this is not all of who you are."
"I also have a dream...to become a violinist. I can't do something stupid like saving the world from destruction!"
The words sounded familiar, and then she realized they were in her own voice. Ridicilious...saving the world? Kaioh Michiru? The prissy girl everyone thought was stuck up? No...violinists don't go around saving the world...that was for...if not her, then who?
"Michiru, you can feel it. Your senses are strong...you woke first." Rei prodded, seeing the confusion on the elder girl's face. "You don't have to fight far away and alone any longer...."
"...like saving the world from destruction!"
Something about a painting...a world about to be destroyed....
Who was it that she said that to, again?
"Michiru?"
She looked up at Rei, who had stepped back, and placed a hand on the heavy wall mirror. "Look in here."
She said that to somebody important...who...?
Michiru was skeptical of the stranger's words, her way of speaking to her as though on familiar terms. But still, her feet moved forward, entranced, and she looked into the mirror on the wall, gilded in gold and reflecting her flawless face. But the image was altered. She wore no gemstone in a tiara on her brows, and a formal of black velvet, not a bow and short skirt and high heels. Gloves covering her hands, hiding the calluses from her practice with the violin. In her hand, no violin case, but a mirror of delicate creation.
Michiru looked down at her hands, to be sure the reflection was not accurate.
"Neptune!"
That voice....
"Uranus?" Michiru asked, reaching out and stepping into the mirror, forgetting everything behind her.

It was black in the corridor between race track and concert hall. Uranus stood opposite Neptune, each with a Talisman in their hands. One a sword, one a mirror. Sea and sky. Far behind each of them stood the mirror, the doorway to this narrow, dark place. It let in little light, and the faces of each senshi were shadowed, though their eyes were unclouded.
"You helped us," a new voice began, and both Outer Senshi turned to see Sailor Venus, stepping forward and standing between them, to the side. "When we lost our powers, unable to henshin, after the battle with Pharaoh 90. Thinking of the dedication of the senshi of the Outer System helped us to find our new powers, which lay dormant within." Venus held her gaze downward as she said this, but then looked up, first to Uranus, then Neptune. "Now is our turn to help you," she grinned, winking. "You showed Mako-chan," she looked to Uranus again, and pointed just behind her. Makoto stood in the frame of the looking glass, hands on hips, face set in a smile. "You showed her that she had to conquer her own fears. And Michiru," Venus turned, this time to Neptune, and to the reflection of Rei behind her, standing and watching with her arms folded, lips quirked. "your developed skills of intuition guided Rei-chan to strengthening her own senses. Domo arigatou, Michiru-san, Haruka-san."
Venus bowed politely, then stepped away with a laugh, "Now, if you wouldn't mind busting us out of here, we need to catch up to Sailor Moon!" And with that, she vanished into the blanket of blackness around them, a spaceless void within the mirrors, empty.
Uranus looked at Neptune. "Oy, Neptune. What do you say we break out of this dream?" She hefted the Space Sword meaningfully, smiling.
Neptune didn't need to say anything. She lifted the Aqua Mirror, returning Uranus' smile. It seemed a little odd, leaving her dream life. A beloved violinist. But then, what kind of life would it be without Haruka?
"Space Sword...Blaster!"
"Submarine...Reflection!"
And the darkness lit up with the light of their energy, sending the world bursting out around them.

Uranus felt herself fall onto the ground, her chin striking the floor hard, jarring. For a moment, sparkles danced in her eyes, and a sensation of vertigo kept her from moving. But as the world stilled, she managed to focus, and saw a length of aquamarine hair just before her face. Mouth still not working quite yet, she reached up, twining fingers in the waves, trying to tug on it, to see if she could get her partner to move, to show a sign of life.
"Nep...Nept...."
Rather than a vocal response, Neptune stirred, letting out a soft groan as she rolled onto her stomach, pushing herself up. Breathing hard, she looked down and over, to see Uranus's hand in her hair. "I thought...I told you..." she managed a smile, "...that this wasn't a good time, Uranus...." she removed Uranus' hand, and clasped it, a little bit of crazy relief shining in her eyes. "The others are here, too. Sit up. Come on," she pushed herself back to her knees, then helped Uranus to sit up dizzily. Mars was laying a length away from them, black hair spilled out across the floor. Venus had tumbled out of her mirror, ankles still hanging within the broken cage as she lay on her side, eyes closed. Beyond them, head visible from around the corner, Jupiter was on her back, eyes open, and she was stirring, trying to push herself up. She turned her head and saw Neptune help Uranus to her feet.
"Hey, mind giving us a hand, too?" she laughed weakly, then managed to get herself up. "Better wake up Venus. She sleeps like a rock."
The two Outers separated, shaking the sleeping Inners awake, their eyes opening slowly, focusing. "We're all right. Arigatou. Wake up, we need to get moving...." they whispered, urging. Hurry, hurry, they had to hurry....
Uranus released Venus as she stabilized on her feet, Jupiter stepping carefully over the broken shards of glass on the ground. Each cage had shattered, but the maze was intact, and dozens of reflections looked back at them from all angles as they regrouped. Mars nodded as she leaned up against Neptune, touching a slight gash on her cheek, bits of blood dripping out. A random scratch from a bit of glass. "Neptune," Venus asked as Mars pushed herself away from the sea senshi's help, "do you think your mirror will be any good in here?"
"We'll see," Neptune decided as she drew the mirror out of its subspace pocket. The graceful curve of the handle fit with familiar comfort in her palm, and she saw herself reflected back in the polished surface. Ripples formed in the glass, pooling outward in concentric rings, moving further away from the center. But even as this magic was being worked, a small feeling of warning alerted Neptune, even as it reached Mars.
"Get down!" They called in one voice, giving only enough warning for the other three to look at them in surprise. There was the sound of glass shearing, of explosion.
And the maze blasted apart around them in fury.

The world was full of color, whirling like petals on the breeze.
Strains of music filled the hall, echoing out of a corner where minstrels played on lutes and harps. Rich velvets, brocades and embroideries skirted in and out of the lines of the dance, as partners exchanged, accepted hands, and moved in stately fashion along the avenues of their own steps. Warmth poured across the smooth stones of the floor, warmth and light from a great fireplace, blazing in the hall's far end. Warmth from the candles high on the iron chandelier above the dancers, warmth from the candelabras in the shadowy corners, not allowing any darkness. This was a glowing land, and this castle its heart. A king of vast fairness and strength, and a queen who sat beside him of unmatched beauty. A flower who had not yet begun to wilt.
A graceful hand was placed within the grip of a handsome knight. Setsuna knew the steps, the pattern that went unchanging to this dance. A gown of red gossamer turned out like petals as she came to the end of the row, exchanging partners again. Across from her, the one she began her dance with. Dark hair, black and cut around his face so that his ocean blue eyes looked wide and deep. So perfect...so familiar....
"You look sad, Lady," her knight commented as they drew their dance to a close. The final strains died away into the laughter of people, and the sounds of maids bringing food from the kitchen. The smell of roast mutton and beef mingled with that of wine and ale and bread. They were good smells, homey and comforting. "Perhaps I could have your name?"
It would have seemed improper for her to hold him, lean her head against him. In this era, in this place, such things in public would seem so very improper. She reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face, but her fingers stilled as they reached her bare shoulder. No, today she had worn her hair up, to look beautiful and elegant in a way she was unaccustomed to. She was so glad that she had. Her fair knight had rescued her from the pain of talking to...her mind wandered, groping for the name. That was a person she knew. She should remember that name. Well, it wasn't important...not really. That face was only the elder sister of her friend. A friend! At so long last, the Guardian of Time had a friend! But where? Setsuna glanced around at the laughing faces. No, she couldn't see...couldn't see.... Her mind struggled with the name. Morgan...yes, Morgan! That was her name! Of course. And this...this was Lancelot. And the king, yes, that was little Arthur all grown up, with his bride beside him. Yes, she remembered this...all of this!
"I'm sorry. Lady Setsuna Meioh."
"Tintagel? Arthur spoke of you. You lived there when he was a baby."
"Yes," Setsuna replied, distantly. Something tugged at her mind, and she reached out with her senses, trying to identify it. But she felt no warping of time. She was here...but perhaps that was it...? How can she remember a thing still happening? Setsuna shook her head in confusion. No, no, she was here. This was her life, her life away from the Gate, even for just a little while....
Music drifted around them again, falling down note by note as the dancers took to twirling again, skirts swishing and boots clattering against the stones of the floor. Warm light made her skin glow, and the oddness people saw in her appearance vanished in ethereal beauty. Heaven held a sense of wonder, and this was her heaven. It was easy to sink into this reality, a happy time when she could for a moment forget anything that lay in the mists.
"I've never been to Tintagel," Lancelot continued, and the voice filled her ears with low melody, rich as chocolate. He seemed faintly distant, as though thinking of other places than where he was. But his kindness in rescuing her was not lost on Setsuna. She was so alone. So lonely. It would be easy, really. So many of the legends...she knew the legends...so many spoke of sorceresses stealing away knights they loved. How easy, to just spirit him away....
But then the strings from the minstrels faded as the song ended. Had it really been that long they had danced? Yes, she was on the other side of the floor. And now he was kissing her hand in parting. "My lady," he bowed, then kissed her hand. "Now that you have been safely rescued from the wicked dragon, I must return to Arthur. Forgive me, my lady."
"Forgiven," she allowed, curtsying as was proper and right for a lady of her station.
Already he was obscured by the milling crowd of dancers. A memory surfaced, and she touched her hair, feeling the soft petals of a red rose in her hair. "Oh yes, I remember...." she murmured. "Morgawse. Never did like her. And you gave me this, when you told me your name...." She looked at the direction he had retreated in and felt dizzy, holding the bloom in her hands, delicate fingers cupping the petals. Why not? Why not make this her dream? Why not change history? Was she not allowed to step in and ensure the proper flow of events? It would be easy, to snatch him away, to create a life simply as Setsuna Meioh, to forget everything outside this lifetime....
"You know that's not your destiny, Setsuna," a soft voice told her from behind. It was familiar and not. And it angered her, forcing her to crush the rose in her fingers. How long had she been alone? Was it not allowed for her to have even a moment's happiness? A lifetime's? Everyone loved. Everyone had loves. Everyone but the perfect, peerless statue that was the Guardian of Time.
"Leave me be, Viviane."
Setsuna turned coldly, and the crushed flower fell around her, laying on the folds of her satin skirt. The girl she faced was not the girl she knew. No, Viviane...the Viviane Setsuna knew would be teary eyed and frightened of such a big place, with so many people. No, it was too soon for Viviane to stand on her own. Then why did she face her so calmly?
No one saw her but Setsuna. They walked around her, laughing and not seeing the girl in the black robes. Not seeing the blue eyed girl with the long white hair, who held her hands clasped before her tranquilly. Viviane tried to smile at Setsuna. "Don't be upset, Setsuna. This place must be very special to you, for you to want to come back here. But we need you now," Viviane said, and the aura around her swirled and eddied. For a moment, Setsuna saw another face overlaid on the familiar one, with the same blue eyes, just slightly downturned and sad. "I know you see me as someone else," Viviane continued, biting her lip nervously. "I know you don't want to leave. But if you don't, we won't be able to help anyone. You have friends with us, too. A family with us, too," Viviane smiled and reached out with a hand. "Don't you remember us?"
"I remember the Talismans, and I remember them becoming the key to awaken the light of destruction. I remember the death. I do not want to go back to that. I want to live in the present. I want to live here!"
"Here is not the present. The present is with us!" Viviane's face altered again, blurring. The other face, with the sad eyes becoming determined. Viviane always had been stubborn, in her own odd way. "The present is with Chibiusa-chan, Setsuna! With Hotaru-chan! Don't you care about them? You always want to protect the little ones. We need you!" Viviane called to her, and the space around her became distorted, as though focused though a liquid lens, refracting. A new girl, with short hair. A familiar girl, who Setsuna remembered from so very long ago. She remembered discussing...temporal mechanics? Those Mercurians were always messing with trying to figure things out...Mercurians? Mercury? What did that have to do with anything? That place was a dead hulk, burned away with the sun's heat.
"The present is with our Princess!"
"The Princess has been dead for a thousand years!"
"She is alive and fighting now, and needs her soldiers to help her!" Viviane cried in return, reaching out with a hand. "Setsuna! Give me your hand and break out of this dream! It's an illusion! This place vanished in the mist centuries ago! Wake up, Setsuna! Wake up! Onegai!"
"No. You're not real.... This...this place is real!"
"Look at me and see me without seeing the past, Setsuna!"
A pair of crimson eyes looked away from the happy people around her, and focused on the shifting form of Viviane. Blue light radiated from her as she reached outward, as though held back and away. But the vertigo that surrounded her was growing still, the watery illusion turning to ice. And it was not Viviane who pleaded with her.
"We are reborn," the girl smiled, and once again reached out.
And this time, Setsuna clasped it.

Pluto's eyes opened, and she slid her hand to the side, reaching out to clasp her Timestaff from where it had clattered to the ground. She shifted, straightening herself out and hearing high pitched crunching as glass moved underneath her. Gasping breathing reached her ears, and she saw Mercury, curled up on the floor across the room from her. "Mercury?"
"Pluto...?"
Sailor Pluto stood, and leaned on her staff for balance as she regained her footing. The waves of dizziness passed quickly, and she knelt down to help Mercury sit up. The smaller girl grabbed her arm for support a moment, then the spinning began to slow for her as well.
"Domo arigatou, Mercury," Pluto said, and the younger senshi managed a smile, nodding.
"You gave me strength before," she told her as Pluto lent her a hand up. "When I thought I was weak. When Fish-eye..." she stood fully, and looked up into the taller woman's face. "tried to kill me. We're alike, Pluto, in some ways. Maybe that's why I could get to you."
"That still doesn't make complete sense. That you weren't affected by whatever spell that was," Pluto told her in a half question. But now that they were both on their feet again, she hefted the Timestaff, looking around for any approaching enemies.
"I think it was the same for the others. We each had to face our nightmares. Yume is smart, learning from a past mistake. It's much harder to escape from a pleasant dream than from a nightmare. A nightmare is easy to spot. A good dream is something you don't want to leave."
Pluto caught a tone in Mercury's voice, and saw that she had called her visor out of its pocket dimension. Bits of light in numerical form reflected across the surface, backwards, so that Mercury could read it. Pluto hadn't lived for centuries, without learning how to observe people's behavior and tones. With a tone of factuality, she stated, "You know something."
"Hai," Mercury nodded, focusing her attention. "Yume learned from a mistake that another made. She should have no information on such a matter. In that case, I believe it is reasonable to present the hypothesis that our enemy is-"
Something shifted in the space around them, a shift in the mechanics of the glass shrouded corridor. "Mercury!" Pluto raced forward, sending both herself and Mercury tumbling to the floor.
A high pitched vibration rang out, and the glass exploded in the air around them.


Tomoe Hotaru straightened herself out, standing and shivering as she picked up her case. The grip of her leather bag fit smoothly into her hand, though her fingers flexed awkwardly, and her arm moved with a slight mechanical squeal. Poppa would be working on the newer parts, she was sure. And under the cloth of her sleeves, no one could see the bits of metal and wire woven into the fabric of her muscle tissue. Under the black tights she wore, no one could see how the backs of her knees were scarred, and how her legs were laced with burn scars, puckered and red. Hotaru hated the scars. How could anyone be pretty with such scars? They were ugly, and in the succession of that thought, so was she.
Walking out of the school yard, she kept her head down, the sharp cut of her hair slanting forward as her violet eyes to her feet. This was her best illusion, keeping her hidden and separate from the world, where she was safe. Her hair was a black curtain, shrouding her from prying eyes. Around her she heard people talking, brushing by the invisibility of the small girl. Laughing and shouting to each other as they headed home. Misery. Every day, she walked along this gauntlet, hearing such happiness in the laughter around her. It felt better to be home, where it was safe. Not that anything was safe. Not anymore. Not with Poppa the way he was....
She stepped though a puddle, and the ripples flowed outward from her heel, spreading the water further onto the cement. Hotaru walked quietly, and without looking right or left. She knew the path she took, though it became more difficult every day. So much more difficult...without...new...parts...Poppa....
Hotaru fell, her world becoming a wave of vertigo. The sky became a swirl of grey and white, and she heard the clatter of her pens and notebooks as they clattered out across the ground. Dizzily, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, rubbing them as though this would clear them of the tunneling in her vision. It was a heavy feeling, as though the world pressed in on her from all sides. But then, there was nothing else to do. Reach out, pick up the mess she made with her own weakness. Then stand, and continue. That was life. Just...continuing.
The darkness focused on a pencase at her knee, and according to the philosophy of continuation, she reached out for it, intending to pick it up. But as her fingers drew close to the metal container, a foot slammed in her way, heavily stepping down. Not quite to her destination, her fingers stilled, and she heard, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Hotaru." The words were sarcastic, and the voice a sneer. A second voice joined the first, just as sharp.
"Shall we help you pick them up?"
Not looking at their faces, Hotaru saw the foot withdraw, and felt a body loom over hers, leering downward. The darkness around her drew down heavily, and narrowed until the two girls above her seemed so far away. So insignificant. And so utterly...nothing. They were nothing. Hotaru almost laughed. Petty people were nothing. They were worthless. No minds, nothing. No souls, nothing. It wouldn't be so bad to kill Nothing, would it? Nothing lost, nothing to miss.... But...people like that were to be pitied, weren't they?
Hotaru heard a squealing sound, harsh and grating. It was metallic, though she was sure it was not her own joints. Far away, she knew she had picked up that penholder, and crushed it in her fingers. Hotaru had never been very strong. Not in this bloodless body she wore.
She continued.
She picked up her things, the girls leaving as they met with ice cold eyes. Eyes that did not seem like the familiar, easily taunted Hotaru's. These were sinister, though on the same body. And even Nothing had to fear eyes like that. So she stood, and the folds of plaid green skirt fell around her knees. Mugen Institute, Poppa's Infinity College....
"You can't escape your destiny," words came, mocking, from ahead of her. In a voice that was hers, but so much older and full of hate. Her head down, she raised her eyes to see herself, or a reflection of herself. Cruel eyes, arms folded over her chest. Hair infinitely long, streaming out in every direction. Hotaru should know her. This was Hotaru. But not. The girl struggled to remember the name of the woman above her, smiling with a kind of knowledge and subtle carelessness. Superiority. To this one, it was Hotaru that was a Nothing.
"You could have everything, if you just let yourself hate them."
Hotaru looked away, beyond the woman. And the scenery of her familiar path home blurred and vanished into a maze of mirrors, the glass reflecting the image of the woman, but not of Hotaru. "I'm real," her opponent continued. "see? These mirrors reflect the soul. The true soul. Wouldn't it be easy, chibi-chan, if you just let me in? I could make you so much stronger...."
The face of the woman grew sharper, less human, as a black star formed on her forehead, and her eyes maniacal as she drew closer. That face...something...mirrors...omega? Omega. Yes. That sounded...familiar, somehow. "Mistress 9?"
She paused for a moment at her name, then the smile twisted up harshly. The mirrors grew bright, the panes stinging Hotaru's eyes as she backed away, her case falling from her grip. There was something...something she should do...she could fight. Fight? Hotaru? Little Hotaru, who fainted so easily and had no strength? Fight? She's kind of creepy. She always has that gloomy expression.... Everyone says she's weird. Of course she is. Her father is that strange Professor. Does she have any friends?
Hotaru felt the shadow of Mistress 9 on her, darkening the brightness. Sharp fingers dug into her throat, and her windpipe narrowed, the air slowing as nails drew blood from her skin's surface. Every nerve glowed, bitingly harsh.
Does she have any friends?
"Poppa...."
Hotaru felt herself lifted from the ground, her feet growing lighter as her weight shifted into the arms of Mistress 9. "It'd be easier if you just died," she heard, quietly. Almost kindly. Death...no, Hotaru wasn't afraid of death. That was strange. People should fear death, shouldn't they? Hotaru closed her eyes, resting them. Just for a little while....
Does she have any friends?
"I made this at school. I'd like to give it to you, Hotaru. The theme for this week is, 'Let's give a present to someone special.' I kinda thought it might be neat to give it to Hotaru as a symbol of friendship...."
She remembered...two girls, coming to bring her the younger one's present...a cup. A strange little cup. With buttons and plastic jewels to make it colorful. And pasted on wings. "Chibiusa-chan?"
Her feet left the floor, and once again blackness hedged her vision. Fight...something...fight...how...? Faces flickered as the hands on her neck tightened. No, this wasn't right. Mistress 9 was dead, wasn't she? How? Someone fought her. Hotaru gripped the wrists of the woman holding her, struggling weakly as her world darkened.
"Chibiusa-chan!"
A new face, looking at her oddly, smiling as she was defeated in their game. "Haruka-papa!"
Another new face, laughing as she helped her get dressed as a little girl. There you go, this one said, straightening the dress. "Michiru-mama!"
A third face, with eyes full of age. Handing her a pencil and showing her kanji. Being patient as the lead marked the paper. "Setsuna-mama!"
Someone new.
Purple eyes, just like hers. Not anyone she should know. No, a stranger's smiling face, oddly familiar. Someone she should know. Someone new. Her eyes fluttered open. The stirring of memory gained momentum. "Onee-san!"

Onee-san!
Sitting on the ledge of her bed, Kami listened, her head rising as the call echoed vibrantly around her. She stood, turning around the unfamiliar confines of her room, almost as though to search for the source of the silent sound.
The drapes of her window were pulled back, the lace letting in traceries of patterned light onto the full carpet under her slippers. The shadows of sunset dappled her face and the length of her hair, glowing golden, glowing divine. Kami placed fingers to her lips thoughtfully, turning and looking at the length of herself in the oval mirror. She stood tall, despite her frustration with herself, and the new, tingling worry at the silent whisper of her name. Shafts of light fell around her, haloing her body in golden light, that shifted though the branches of the tree outside. Ordinary beauty, extraordinarily presented.
"Hotaru-chan?"


Hotaru-chan?
Breathlessly, Hotaru clawed at the hands on her throat. A voice. She heard a voice calling. Calling back to her. Softly, almost silently. In the mirrors beyond the slash of Mistress 9's hair, she could see a shrouded reflection, pale and ghostly. In it stood the final face, fingers to her lips in wonder, eyes not seeing as Hotaru saw. Puzzlement made her look, then turn, her bewilderment clear though the image on the glass. Then again, pale lavender eyes looked at her through the mirror.
Blackness was overwhelming.
"If you wish to be part of me, then so be it. My piece of chaos you shall be!" Again, she gripped the wrists pinning her to the mirror, but now her eyes were open, and the light of a symbol shone on her forehead, gleaming amethyst under hair that fluttered wildly around her face. Now, for the first time, the woman noticed Hotaru as something more than Nothing. The hateful eyes widened, a moment too late. "And I will surpass you and all you stand for!"
The symbol faded, only to be replaced with a single purple stone. And from her white gloved hands, a dissolved mist that coiled around her. A scream lingered in the air, though not from the throat of Saturn. Her feet touched the ground again, tapping softly as she tried to gain her breath back. Such a nightmare. That face haunted her. Such a nightmare, to face again the terror of her life. On her knees, Saturn breathed.
And then she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, and saw feet, then knees before her.
"Are you all right?" A worried voice asked, and she looked up to see the one they had all come for.
Yume, distant blue eyes full of concern, searching her face.
"Are you okay? Tomoe-san?"
Sailor Saturn blinked with disbelieving eyes, first at Yume, then again as she took in the new room around her. A ring of mirrors, some shattered and multiplied in their reflections. Against the distant end of the ring, a tall throne, sweeping and high backed, regal and eerily familiar.
"Here," Yume was saying, taking Saturn's hand and helping her up. "Can you stand? I thought your mind would be lost. She held you in her grip for so long." Yume peered closer at Saturn's neck, blinking. "Ah, good. No physical repercussions, not yet." A small smile flitted on her face, a look of relief and happiness.
Yume squeezed Saturn's hands, then released them with a smile, folding her arms around herself out of habitual motion. Her shoulders rounded, drawing her in on herself as she did so, making her smaller. Though Yume was taller than Hotaru, it almost appeared as though Saturn was larger. Yume shifted back slightly, her heels clomping hollowly as she shifted her weight. Yume's face shifted between worry, curiosity, and a tentative smile.
"Why," Saturn began slowly, touching her neck and feeling bruises that did not exist. "why did you try to kill me?"
As though slapped, Yume retreated a step, paling and biting a lip. "Gomen. Gomen, Tomoe-san. No, you misunderstand. You two young ones. Children shouldn't have to suffer...." Yume reached out with a hand pleadingly, consolingly. "I made it different for you. I thought...I thought you were like me. I wanted to be sure. Tomoe-san, that happened to you too, didn't it? All those people, laughing at you. Just because we're freakish. Kutsu always laughed at me. I don't want to hurt people who have been hurt like me. I've been a freak since I was little. I thought that if you were like me, then I could protect you." She folded her hands together, wringing them slightly in agitation and thought. Stupid, freakish Yume, who finally was strong enough to fight for herself. "Was that stupid of me again?"
Sailor Saturn stood and looked at the girl across from her. She was tattered, her fine green dress worn from battling with the senshi, and from constant wear. She tottered in her heels, and her hair clung around her face, as though wishing to hide it. She was thin. So very, very thin. Frail. Yes, frail. White skin turning transclusecent, veins lacy beneath the surface. There were bruises on her arm and her leg, sign she had not escaped her battles completely without harm. A shoulder was red and raw. Small things, not really noticed in the flurry of motions in battle. Small things too easily overlooked. And mostly, Saturn looked at her eyes. They were blue, faraway eyes, and though she was looking down slightly, they were the eyes of a girl far younger. Too wide, too frightened. Hotaru wasn't a mother, but ever nerve in her screamed to wrap her arms around Yume, to tell her it would be all right, and they would go home, and have tea, and laugh and everything would be fine, just fine.
"Yume-chan," Saturn said, reaching out with a hand tentatively. She watched Yume's eyes widen fractionally at the gesture. Saturn smiled, leaning forward and reaching out. Don't let her drop down into the silence again. Don't let her go. Take her hand, get her out of the maze. If she could get her out of the maze, then she'd be free. Somehow, that would be all it took. Just get her to walk away. Just walk away. Whatever it was that made her this way, it was here. She could feel it. Cold against her skin. "Would you like to come home with me? Michiru-mama makes really good soba noodles. They're my favorite. We were going to have some tonight. Are you hungry, Yume-chan?"
Hungry? Yume? Wasn't she always? Wasn't that her problem? But soba noodles.... Yume did like soba noodles. Her favorite was tempura though, but soba was always good. No, no, this was silly. Soba noodles? Michiru-mama? That was the Neptune one.... Yume glanced beyond Sailor Saturn, and saw the images in a distant mirror. Within it, an elegant Kaioh Michiru was waving good bye to a techie in her dream, laughing as she headed down towards her ride to some extravagant affair. No, Michiru wasn't going to be making soba noodles. Not unless Yume let her out.
"Michiru-mama!" Saturn cried as she followed Yume's gaze. In horror, her eyes swung around to another mirror, this time the image of a crowd of people at a raceway. Screaming fans, their sounds silent within the soundproof glass. Wildly, she looked again, this time seeing a court in full splendor, ladies whirling though the images of men and women dancing.
"They're happy there, Tomoe-san," Yume managed, her voice brittle, trying to explain what was being seen. "They're in their dreams. No one will hurt them there."
"Why!"
"They never hurt me. But..." Yume looked away, and as her face hardened, Saturn began to see the one she had faced at Chibiusa's school. A Yume who was fighting for vengeance, on behalf of herself. And outrage, for those like her. But why the senshi? Lock them within good dreams? All but Hotaru, since Yume correctly surmised she had been though similar situations. Something here didn't fit. Something didn't fit at all. The coldness in her face was returning slowly, and Saturn tried to break though the forming ice.
"Yume-chan," she began, letting her voice take a harder edge. It was effective, and Yume looked at her again. "I want you to-"
A soft sound began to ripple though the room, like the lapping of moonlit waves at night. It vibrated gently, growing in low pitch until enough to distract both Sailor Saturn and Yume. Turning, they saw a hand emerge though a crystal clear pane of glass, then a face, slipping though the passage into the ring of mirrors. White wings extended out as Eternal Sailor Moon stepped though the mirror, stumbling a half step as she entered the room, looking around uncertainly. Recognition fixed her eyes as she saw Saturn.
"Stop right there! For what you have done to my daughter...."
"Sailor Moon! No!"
"I will never forgive you!"
Yume was gone, her eyes as cold as the empty sky. "Tomoe-san," she said with an elusive frostiness, "you may leave now, or else chose your side." Sharply, she looked at Saturn. "And I know that if you do not leave, then it is her side you will chose. So leave, or join her."
"Yume...."
She made a small sound of disgust, then stepped away, approaching the dais and the throne there. Lifting a hand, a stream of cards fluttered off the armrest, lighting to her hand with familiar ease. She turned. Flip. Flip....
"You, Tsukino Usagi, are not like the others. You were always loved. You have a perfect family. You have a perfect boyfriend. You have your perfect little group of adoring friends. Everybody likes Tsukino Usagi. She's all light and happiness and sugar. The happy little heroine, who's just so goddamned perfect. Why, you'll even have the whole planet kissing your dainty little feet someday, won't you? Nobody thinks Tsukino Usagi is a freak. Everything just works itself out for you just fine and dandy doesn't it? Perfect. Everything...just...perfect!" Her voice grew hysterical as she continued, until her words hit the breaking point. She stood clearly before the throne, facing them and looking down, hands still on the cards, tightly crushing them between strained fingers.
But behind her, a shadow moved, rustling so softly that it could barely be heard though Yume's words. The back of the throne was reflected, on this side empty, on the other....
On the other....

Sailor Moon watched the words fall from Yume's lips painfully. They were true, to a point. She had a happy life. And she fought to keep it that way. It hurt, hearing it said the way Yume said it. Didn't everyone want a happy life? Darkness fluttered around her, cloaking bare shoulders. And then she heard Saturn draw a sharp breath. Momentarily, her gaze shifted, and a new form could be seen just behind Yume. Familiar. Lengths of black hair, a silhouette in the dim light.
Catlike eyes.
A single word came to a strangled scream, an impossible scream. "Nehelenia!"

Yume lifted a card in the air, and the two senshi moved into action.
As Saturn lifted her hand, she summoned the Silence Glaive, swinging it to bear. The image of a demon was revealed against the polished metal as Yume turned the card. But Sailor Moon had already brought the Eternal Rod up and around. "Starlight Honeymoon Therapy Kiss!"
All the world became glass.
Cutting, biting glass that shattered in the explosion, bursting out and surrounding Sailor Moon and Sailor Saturn.
And then there was a light, which sent them blind, and each could feel their bodies lift into the air, and fall hard against the ground.


*******************

I told you there was a major anime element in here....waaaaay back in the recap from the previous two stories? lol. Yes, the anime element is the idea of Nehelenia returning. It doesn't happen at all in the manga, and is exclusive to the Stars anime. Since Kami tends to deal so much with dreams, I thought it best to challenge the Nehelenia idea. And since 'Bloom of the Mountain Cherry' was supposed to be after SS....
On a more practical note, the dream sequences for Michiru and Setsuna. Michiru's dream was to become a violinist, so that's the dream Yume gave her. Setsuna's is probably confusing to most. ^^; You see so little of Pluto's life in anime and manga. I wasn't sure exactly what to do with her. I know she wants to be a fashion designer, but it seemed a little...wrong for the fic. And I wanted to keep things in the past, as though they hadn't happened yet. (ie, Haruka and Michiru never having met....) So I was a bit restricted. And I wanted to break the pattern a little. Long, long ago, (my first fanfic!) I wrote 'Mists of Time.' A blend of Setsuna growing up and one of my favorite mythologies, King Arthur. So, I took a scene out of 'Mists' and re-vamped it for 'Golden Rule.' I hope it wasn't confusing to anyone. It was just supposed to be a happy time, before she knew any of the modern-day senshi. Thus harder for her to pull away from it.
And in both Haruka and Michiru's scenes, they hear words. ('...like saving the world from destruction!' and, '...when I realized you were the one...I was happy....') Those were taken out of the S season anime episode that shows the flashback when they met. I've got the Pioneer dvd of that episode, so that's the translation I used.
And finally, Hotaru's dream sequence. That was a scene from the manga, when she crushed the metal pen holder. You know, it took me forever to think of using that? o.O That should have been so obvious, it was so similar to what happened to Yume. I was coming up with all kinds of weird dream sequence ideas....o.O oro.... Oh well. Also, if you're not totally familiar with the manga, in the S story arc, Hotaru's father uses mechanical parts to keep Hotaru alive after the accident when she was little. She was, in a way, a cyborg.
Til next time.
Ja ne!
-Queen