**DISCLAIMER:
Sailor Moon and other characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi, Cartoon Network,
etc. None of these characters belong to me. **
Author's
Notes: Konnichiwa, minna-chan. I hope you like this next chapter. Sorry for the
delay in posting. (Vacation=Travel ^_^) Remember that this is an AU. Please
send some feedback or review! I love getting your comments, and I will consider
any suggestions that you have. After all, I am writing this for you, and I do
want you to like it. Enjoy reading!
Rating:
PG-13
*******************
"Not
the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart."
~
Proverb ~
Silver
Eyes
by: The
Silver Princess
Night
settled over Tokyo like an unfolding quilt, same as always. Shadows lengthened
like stretching, reaching fingers, and stars emerged like shy fireflies,
twinkling with tiny light. Same shadows, same stars, and same noises, same
bums. The beauty of the sky sickened above the degradation, and the wan
streetlights barely diffused the heavy, polluted darkness of the city. Very few
people dared to venture beyond the tourist-populated main streets.
Very few,
but not none.
The motorcycle
thrummed with reassuring familiarity beneath Usagi's legs as she leisurely
maneuvered down the blackened streets. She paused at a stop sign, and the
stagnant air—now deprived of the breeze of speed—was sticky and oppressively
hot against her skin. Noise scuffled at her left, and she glanced over
suspiciously. Her gaze softened, and she reached into her pocket and tossed
some yen to the pitiable homeless boy. She frowned and silently scoffed at the
Japanese authorities who blindly insisted that Japan had no homeless. Their
senile prattling made no difference on the reality of the situation; no matter
how much they denied it, the destitute still scrabbled for life in the back
streets.
She
accelerated away, and air moved against her skin, caressing her welcomingly.
There had been no sign of a youma attack so far; consequently, she had had to
content herself with randomly roving the streets in search of other menaces. A
feral, dangerous smile lit her features at the thought, and her eyes glittered
like the steel of a whetted blade. One foolhardy tourist would have been
cold-bloodedly gutted by a desperate mugger had she not shown up. Evil came in
many faces—often human—and the night was still young and very, very dark.
It had been
several uneventful days since Usagi had relived the memory of her family's
death. No youmas had appeared, and no senshi meetings had been called—as far as
she could tell at least. To be honest with herself, which she always tried to
be, she was growing rather impatient.
She yelped
as a stray beam of light wandered into her path and unexpectedly illuminated a
slick puddle of standing oil in the middle of the road. She jerked her bike to
avoid it, and her tires skidded uncertainly at the unexpected move. She winced,
hoping that she would remain upright. Then she cursed under her breath as she
swerved again to avoid the corner of a connecting alley and came around in a
full circle. She let her breath in a slow whoosh as her bike steadied and then
scolded herself for her carelessness. Baka!
Suddenly,
Usagi frowned and turned her bike back to glare into the murk of the other
alley she had glimpsed. She braked next to the fortuitous oil puddle and slowly
wheeled her bike forward for a more thorough look.
"Nani?" she
whispered to herself when her eyes confirmed the glimpse she had caught. "What
are you doing here?" Her frown deepened as she scrutinized the figure more
closely. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And dressed like that?" she added
disbelievingly as she tilted her head curiously.
Usagi
shrank furtively into the gloom, grateful that her black helmet concealed the
bright gold of her hair, and Minako glanced around furtively with a wrinkled
brow. Her face was thickly painted: lips garish red and eyes lined with an
electric blue smeared on in a fiery shape. Her waterfall of blond hair was dyed
with cerulean streaks. Her clothes were rather unsavory as well: short shorts
that could be zipped in half and a shirt that would probably be better defined
as sequined lingerie. Minako took one last look around before shrugging and
slipping inside a door that released several blasts of loud electronica music
before it shut. She had looked…disreputable to put it nicely, yet the tense
expression on her face belied her wild appearance. What in the world was she…?
Usagi's
lips quirked up into a crooked smile when she reached the logical conclusion.
Well, well, well. Could this be a senshi meeting? How propitious that she had
happened by at this exact moment. After all, who would suspect the city's
official superheroes to plot and plan inside a shady nightspot in one of the
seediest parts of town?
Usagi
locked up her bike and walked confidently to the door, lifting her eyebrows as
she examined it. The original black paint was chipped and peeling away, but the
door did not lack decoration for various vulgar expressions of graffiti densely
adorned it. She recoiled in disgust as she noticed a particularly graphic
representation of private things that she would rather not see. She wrinkled
her nose as she bypassed that area. What was this place? she wondered as she
searched for something more identifying. She nearly burst into peals of
laughter when she found the engraved name. Rave Monkeys 69? She shook her head
in amusement. If her assumptions were correct and they did hold meetings at
this scummy club, no wonder she had a difficult time finding them more than
half of the time.
Music—now
trance—blared into her eardrums like an atomic blast as Usagi opened the door
and flitted inside. With wide eyes, she shook her head again, suddenly
understanding Minako's outfit a great deal more. Even in her unusual mask and
her black sports bra—hey, all her black shirts were unwashed, and, well, people
went out in public in bikinis and those were far more revealing—Usagi was the
most conservative partygoer. Neon colors bobbed around her, piercings and
tattoos abounded, and twisting, dancing bodies pressed sweatily against each
other in a writhing, pulsing mass of music, smoke, and energy.
Wrinkling
her noise in resigned repugnance, Usagi flattened herself against the filthy
wall and inched her way past the writhing, hip-wriggling crowd towards the
small clump of tables and booths in the back of the club. She coughed queasily
as she inhaled the thick marijuana smoke that pervaded the area. How did the
senshi stand it? she wondered as she placed her hand over her mouth and
attempted to breathe that way. She would never get the stench out of her hair.
She averted her eyes when she noticed a wad of money and a plastic bag of
substance changing hands. There was nothing she could do, and for the sake of
her sanity, she did not want to know what other drugs were being pandered here.
She smiled enviously as she finally approached their booth. Through some quirky manipulation of magic, they had set it up some sort of bubble around themselves, through which no smoke could penetrate.
She slipped into the adjacent booth, sitting behind Ami, and pressed her back against the seat in an attempt both to hear better and to enjoy the edges of their smoke-free bubble. She furrowed her brow as she tuned in, trying to catch the pieces of their conversation.
"The enemy…stronger," Makoto said urgently, banging her fist on the table. "…they're ambushing…with new…sterious enem…don't…fit…pattern…If…been for Serenity, we…not have gotten…"
"I
think…focus…Serenity. Who…?" Rei interjected.
Usagi
inhaled sharply, and the techno beat poured from the speakers and vibrated in
her bones.
"…not
know…motives," Rei continued firmly. "We need to figure…and if…connected
to…hime.
"…agree,"
Ami said in her gentle, thoughtful voice. Usagi doubted she would have been
able to hear her had she not been sitting directly on the other side of the
booth seat. "Serenity-hime…main concern…if this girl…info…"
A murmur of
consent floated into Usagi's ears. She should leave now, before they grew wise
to her presence. She slithered towards the edge of the booth, and the slide of
the fake leather felt disgusting against her bare back.
"Everyone,"
Minako interrupted, and her voice, which carried the weight of leadership,
sounded clearly even over the house music. "I contacted Michiru a few hours
ago."
"Nani?!"
they chorused, and Usagi immediately sat down again, frowning in confusion.
Michiru?
"The four
of them are on their way," Minako announced.
There was a
loud outcry of protest, and Usagi scooted closer, curious as to what could
cause such dissension among the group.
"Minako,
you shouldn't have done that," Mamoru said, his voice sounding with the same
charismatic clarity.
"Listen,
you may be the prince, but I'm still the leader of the senshi," Minako
retorted, distinctly annoyed at this questioning of her authority,
"Yes, I'm
not challenging you on that," he acquiesced smoothly. "But they might. They
don't acknowledge your or my authority the same way."
"That's the
point," Minako snapped immediately. Usagi heard her stand, and she slouched
down nervously as she pictured Minako's head of blue-streaked blonde hair now
high enough to see her. "They are loyal only to and above all else to
Serenity-hime," she explained, thankfully oblivious to Usagi's clandestine
company. "They'll do whatever they can to help us find the princess, and when
she does appear, they'll bow to her authority. I don't need to be in charge of
them, so long as we get their help anyway."
Someone
murmured something unintelligible.
"Nani?"
"Someone…eavesdropping," Rei announced.
Feet scuffled against the floor as the others stood.
Usagi winced, cursing at herself for overlooking Rei's psychic powers. Well, this was her cue.
She sprang from her seat, coughing as she inadvertently gasped in the smoky air.
There was a shout behind her. "Shimmata! Serenity!"
She quickly dove into the mass of wriggling dancers and grunted as a hipbone dug into her side.
Bodies mashed against as she squirmed her way through the thick of the dancing. Strobe lights flashed neon against the inside of her closed eyelids, and the beat of the music reverberated in her bones. Thrum, thrum. Her head pounded as though a hammer beat inside her skull, and the sickly sweet smell of marijuana and the sweaty body odor mixed cloyingly in her nostrils.
She gasped in relief as she squeezed free. The door. She sent a grateful prayer heavenward as she scrambled for the exit. Did people really do that for fun? she wondered incredulously.
She burst through the door and slammed it behind her, the music was cut off. For once, the pollution of Tokyo felt clean inside her lungs, and the comparative quiet was as blissful as forest glade.
Then she opened her eyes and said a word that would have made a soldier blush.
"Well, you did lose us inside," Mamoru said consolingly.
Usagi scowled and crossed her arms at the five figures surrounding her motorcycle.
"Did you really think that we were that stupid?" Makoto snorted. "We knew you'd end up at your bike regardless of what you did you lose us."
Her scowl deepened, but she remained silent.
"We just want to talk," Ami explained.
She arched an eyebrow. "How friendly. And if I turn down this friendly invitation?" They fidgeted uncomfortably, and she nodded. "I thought so." She nibbled her lip. She really did not want to leave her bike.
"Answer five questions, and then you get your bike back," Minako said in an iron voice.
"That's blackmail," Usagi pointed out mildly.
"Four," Minako bargained.
"No," Usagi said.
"Three."
Usagi laughed. "This isn't a negotiation. I said no."
Minako fumed, and she opened her mouth to retort.
"Mina-chan," Ami said as she laid a calming hand on her arm.
Minako sputtered but then nodded when Ami whispered quietly.
Ami turned to Usagi. "We simply want to know what you know. If you are an ally, that would not be an unreasonable request," she explained in a cooperative tone.
She frowned at the blue-haired girl suspiciously. "You do consider me an ally, then?" she asked.
Ami smiled, and her tiny, sweet smile seemed to negate her scandalous costume. Her head tilted thoughtfully, and Usagi bit the inside of her cheek as she noticed the spiked hairdo. "Yes, I do," she answered.
A genuine smile broke over Usagi's features, brightening her face in a manner reminiscent to Odango Atama's. "Thank you," she said to Ami.
"But what about the rest of you?" she asked as she glanced at the others.
"Some more than others," Minako responded coldly, and her face remained stony and mistrustful. Makoto was guarded but seemed willing to change her mind quickly. Rei was frowning but not with distrust; it was as though she were working out some puzzle, annoying only in its mystery. Mamoru's gaze was level and steady, and his face showed respect and trust.
Usagi shrugged, and her silver eyes glinted. "Your loss," she said lightly to Minako. She couldn't really blame them for their suspicion.
She turned towards Ami. "I don't know anything," she admitted. She snorted and grinned. "Well, nothing except how to do an inside-out spinning crescent kick. Apart from what I eavesdropped before—sorry about that—I don't know one thing about Serenity-hime and princes." As she said the last word, she locked gazes with Mamoru, and his eyes were deep and searching.
"Then what are you doing helping us?" he asked curiously, and his deep, smoky voice hung in the alleyway.
Usagi looked away, refusing to meet any of the staring eyes, as emotion roiled inside her. "You fight evil. So do I," she answered succinctly.
An unsatisfied pause filled the alleyway, and Minako frowned. "Why?" the blond senshi asked.
Usagi pursed her lips, knowing that her silence would only further Minako's mistrust. "I was once confronted with evil, and I failed," she blurted before she regained her composure. She sighed heavily and continued softly, "Four people died because of me, although only one was struck by my hand."
They jerked in surprise, and Makoto and Minako gaped openly at her. Dawning comprehension lit in Rei's eyes, and Ami gazed at her compassionately, understanding. Only Mamoru seemed unreactive.
"Now, my bike?" Usagi said leadingly, her low, rich voice breaking the astonished hush. In the aftermath of her confession, she felt as though she had swallowed broken glass.
They grudgingly moved away from her vehicle and watched as she unlocked it. She mounted and revved up the engine.
"So we can trust you?" Mamoru confirmed.
She smiled warmly at him, and her silver eyes sparkled with inner radiance. "Hai," she answered lightly. "I'm glad we cleared this up."
Mamoru's perceptive eyes traced the shape of her face. Despite her skillful makeup, her nose stayed pert, and her face remained sweet, although more mature. Under those discerning eyes, she suddenly felt naked despite her mask. "Could kill someone…" he whispered an echo of his words earlier, his voice so soft that she was certain only she heard him. The light in her eyes dimmed, and she shivered and released the brake. In her ears, the squeal of tires sounded as though they betrayed her, "Usagi!"
She could feel his blue-gray eyes on her back, as
unerring as they were gorgeous. Her stomach clenched.
Now what?
**Gomen nasai for the delay in posting, minna-chan, but as I said above, summer vacation traveling made things a trifle difficult. So, FYI: I'm going to be gone all July, and I won't get to posting anything until August. Sayonara 'til then!**
