Authors Note: I did the undoable (for me, at least)! I actually wrote this chappie by hand, or most of it, instead of typing. I am so shocked at myself! Anyways, here ya go, sorry it was late, even though I explained why last chapter. And it's so short... but it builds the foundation for the rest of the (pitiful) plot (the senshis begin to clue in!). Enjoy!
Usagi sighed, staring tiredly at the four men seated before her. "I suppose there's no way I can get out of this, hai?" Each of the four shook their heads. "I didn't think so. Well, may as well start with the beginning," she muttered to herself. Suddenly, her eyes focused sharply on them, and she sat up straighter.
"You know about reincarnation, right?" she asked, and barely paused for their assents. "And you've probably, at random points in your lives, suddenly thought of, or remembered, really odd things you would've sworn never happened?" She smiled at their startled faces. "Don't be surprised. There's a very good reason for them, and it ties in with my first question. These memories are yours, but not from this life. Sit back, get comfy, this may take awhile.
"A thousand years ago..."
"What's that sound?" Ami asked curiously. She and Makoto were wandering the halls warily on guard, waiting for the next Darkmoon attack. They were not far from the royals' living quarters, in the working section of the palace.
"It's coming from Usagi's rooms," Mako replied, going over to the photographer's rooms. She tried the door, frowing when the it proved to be locked. She called Ami over, who quickly opened the door, using skills the quiet bleu haired woman had picked up who knows where. Usagi had been one of the first to flee, and so it was odd that she would have thought to lock the door, but it fit in with the competent photographer's personality.
She and Ami entered, gazing at the incredibly neat room. The music was coming from behind the closed doors to Usagi's living quarters. Mako pushed that (unlocked) door open, to the, also, neat rooms beyond.
"I wonder why | the stars don't seem to guide me| I didn't mean to fall in love with you..."
"That's English, right Ami?" Mako asked, head cocked to the side as she concentrated on the lyrics.
"Yes, it is," Ami replied. The song was relatively old, from seven or so years ago.
Mako thought for a moment. "But why would she leave something like that still playing?" she asked.
"I don't know, Mako. I really don't." Ami's voice was monotone, as if she was thinking at the same time as speaking.
And indeed she was. Her thoughts were racing faster then was normal, even for her. She thought of all the implications, digging deeper then the situation probably warranted. Why would she leave her music playing, if she left with enough time to pack neatly? She is, evidently, not a person given to leaving any detail out. So why?
I'm so evill! Short chapter, I know. But I neglected this fic the entire time I was at camp, and I wanted to get another chappie out. But I will promise (though I cringe at that word) to get another out within the week. Hopefully, from now on the chapters will be split between Usa and the gens, and the senshis in Japan. Adieu! (If you can guess the song and artist, cheerios to you!)