The long awaited chapter five has begun!  Thanks to these people for reviewing....I adore you all!

Moonchild DJ Thank you, thank you…I'll keep writing! (Especially b/c I love your reviews!) Cute: I've updated, see! Maddy:  Glad you enjoyed it!  psystar1:  Your vote is welcome;  Jia^eR aKa HiKari: I'm writing, I'm writing!  ~Bashful~: We'll see;  Sailor Grape:  no, it doesn't sound like Minako had a good time, does it?

Hands of Fate; Changes in Destiny

Chapter Five: In which Lightning meets Death

By:  AutumnHime

               At the same time Mina exited the green SUV to start her new job, Makoto stood in front of a grey stone establishment.  A small hanging sign in front of the wide double oak doors proclaimed The Lightning Dragon(1).  The building in front of her, with its great light and awesome bay windows, belonged solely to her.  Her chestnut hair trailed down her back as she gazed proudly upon the old-fashioned wooden sign.

               Makoto sighed.  "There are just some things I can never get over!"  she murmured giddily.  "My own restaurant."

               She slowly walked around to the back of the store, taking the brass-bound key chain that held her three most important items on it.  The two keys to the restaurant, and an old, old photo that she had found in her subspace pocket...a picture of Usagi, Minako, Rei, herself, and Ami in their sailor uniforms.  The mirror behind them, however, reflected something strange...it reflected them as they were in real life...happy-go-lucky teenagers that, two months after the picture was taken, would not have been alive to enjoy that memory. 

               "NO!"  she commanded herself, shoving that stray thought of the past into the farthest compartment from her current thoughts. 

               Taking the old-fashioned brass key, she placed it into the lock of the less impressive back door and twisted.  At the same time, she called her transformation wand into existence right next to the wall,  pressing it into a hidden catch.  The delivery door opened smoothly. 

               Makoto stepped inside, her gauzy green skirt flirting with her hiking boot clad feet, both complemented by the rosy raw silk shell.  She twisted, hitting the light switch.  Electricity filled the air as one by one, great flourescent lights buzzed on, illuminating the spotless chrome, white, and steel of the kitchen. 

               Makoto strolled towards the swinging doors on the other side of the room, running emerald tipped fingers across the immaculate surfaces, taking items needed for breakfast dishes...omelette pans, egg holders, waffle makers... off of the shelves.  

               She flowed into the main area of the tidy diner.  Sunlight had just kissed the horizon, and rays of gold ran like children in through the windows.  The room was open, the tables secluded but friendly.  Light colored orchard woods like cherry and apple created the dazzling patterns in the floor.  When everything was ready for breakfast hours, there would be vases of fresh morning flowers and white table covers to sophisticate the area. 

               Makoto moved on.  She leisurely unlocked the entry doors, then moved to the front doors, unlocking those and throwing them open to welcome all who would come.  She then began her daily routine of taking all the chairs off of the tables.

               In the midst of Makoto's morning start, Usagi breezed in, fresh wildflowers in her hand. This too had become part of Makoto's routine. 

               "Morning, Mako-chan!"  Usagi cried.  "Everything ready to get started?"

               "Sure, Usa!"  The sight of Usagi this morning brought back the stray thought of the past--and the issues that had been discussed the day before.  Makoto halted in her setting the chairs to rights.

               "Mako-chan?  Are you all right?"  A frown marred the happy features of Usagi's face.

               "I'm fine.  Usa-chan, would you mind finishing setting everything up?  I have a new recipe I want to try out this morning and I'm not sure how much time I'll need."

               "Okay, Makoto."  Usagi agreed, watching Makoto stride back into the kitchen.  Her thoughts were racing.  That made two out of four friends acting strangely.  What was going on?

                  In the kitchen, Makoto stared without seeing at the stainless steel collander in her hands.  Usagi...her princess, her best friend, her savior.  She always seemed to be drawn back to the fighting, no matter what happened, or how hard the Senshi tried.  What was it...?

(~~~~~~~~

               "Hi!"  A blonde girl, wimpy in appearance, with the craziest hair-do possible, greeted Makoto as she walked into the latest restaurant that might possibly need a new chef. 

               "Hello..."  Makoto replied, wondering

               The petite female in front of her reached for some menus.  "How many...?"

               "What?"  Makoto asked, shaking her head.

               "How many people in your party?"  Blondie asked again.

               "I'm not here to eat.  I'm here to apply for a job as chef."  Makoto angrily replied.  Was the girl trying to make fun of her?  This was a Nouveau Riche restaurant...like fifty bucks for a decent dinner.  The clothes she had on should have alerted Blondie to the fact she wasn't a customer. 

               "Whoa,"  Blue eyes looked up in hurt.  "I didn't mean anything.  I'm supposed to ask that question."

               Deep breath, Makoto.  You have eaten out before...it is a standard question.  "Okay..."

               "Usagi Tsukino, at your service, ma'am.  If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you to the manager."

               Fifteen minutes later, Makoto had a job as a chef at the Alabama Canon.

               It started immediately. 

               Usagi walked back with her to the kitchen.  "Guys, this is ..."  She introduced the tall, auburn-haired girl to three men standing around in the kitchen.

               "Makoto Kino,"  Makoto finished.

               "She's the new chef." 

               The first guy, tall and with arrogance screaming from his pores,stepped up.  "So  you think you can hack being a chef, girly?"

               "Yeah," the two guys echoed behind him.  "Wanna be.  Bet you don't know an onion from a leek." 

               Usagi moved, stepping in front of Makoto, small body tense.  "Leave her alone, Jay.  She's done nothing to you.  I bet she's a better cook than all of you combined, and if you mess with her, you mess with me."

               Makoto stared in wonder at the pig-tails and buns pixie in front of her.  She actually thought that she could protect her against these brutes? 

               "Umm...Usagi..."

               A doorbell chimed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~)

               Makoto blinked, confused green orbs staring back in a contorted manner from the inside of the steel bowl she held. 

               A doorbell never went off in her hearing on the day she first met Usagi.  What was up?

               Usagi banged through the serving doors. 

               "We have breakfast customers, Mako-chan.  They would both like this morning's special."

               "Uhhhh..."  Mako blinked at her friend.

               "Are you sure you're okay?"  Usagi asked marching up and standing toe to toe with the taller female.  She peered into Makoto's eyes.

               "I'm fine, Usa-chan, really I am.  I heard you.  Two breakfast specials, coming up."

               Usagi shrugged, grabbed some crystal glasses from the black- and white- tiled wall, and backed out the way she had come in.

               Makoto turned back to her reverie, automatically reaching for the items she needed to make breakfast.  What good was it to be the Senshi of Jupiter if you tried and tried and tried to protect the one person who had been willing to stand up for you and they had to fight anyway?   Where was the point in her having suffered the way she had that day four and a half years ago to get her powers if Usagi would have to suffer as well?

(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               The heavens smiled, azure sky lightening the rest of the world to match the cheerful happiness of the golden sun.  A young teenager with long hair strolled arm in arm through the gracefully bent trees with her first grow-up boyfriend, Scott (2). 

               Her chestnut hair swayed gently againsther back as emerald eyes gazed up dreamily at the handsome clean-cut young man. She had dressed up especially for this date, their six-month anniversary.  She had carefully chosen  a light blue cotton skirt that swirled around her ankles and a lacy white peasant blouse complete with ruffles and wide cuffs that complemented it nicely.  Her two-inch brown sandals, small rose earrings and the single daisy in her hair completed the romantic outfit.  Yet despite Makoto's happiness, even she could sense the distance between herself and her boyfriend.  He did not look down at her adoringly, or even fondly.

               As they reached a deserted playground near the center of the park, Scott drew back.  He grasped Makoto's pink-tipped fingers hard.  He then pulled away. 

               Makoto's features changed. They went from happy to confused in the blink of an eye.

               "What's wrong, Scott?"  

               "Makoto..." The light baritone sounded strained.  "Makoto, I don't know how to say this..." 

               "What is it, Scott?" 

               The brunette boy carelessly ran a hand through his neatly styled hair, and then did it again.  "Makoto..."  He began again.

               Makoto just stared, green eyes wide, noticing that the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees, and that clouds had rapidly formed from nowhere, blocking the sweet sunlight and darkening the day.  She knew what was coming.

               "Scott, I...I love you...please..."  She stuttered.

               "Makoto, I'm sorry.  We can't see each other anymore.  My parents think you're a bad influence on me.  After all, you gotten kicked out of three schools in the last five months.  They've found me a girl that they say I should be much happier with."  He said this in a rehearsed manner, as if it had been practiced over and over one hundred times. 

               It probably had been, Makoto thought desperately.  Scott's parents had probably written it out for him beforehand.  "Scott, please, I...I...I love you."

               "And besides," Scott drew himself up.  "I don't think that I could keep dating a girl that dresses like you do.  Do you know what you look like?"

               Makoto reached out, not noticing the tears running down her face.  "Please???"

               "Get away from me!"  Scott took a step back, as if her touch were contaminated.  He looked at her in disgust as her carefully applied mascara ran down her cheeks.  She had a look of desperate hope on her face, as if it were all a bad dream.  He shook his head contemptuously, turned on his heel, and strode away.

               "SCOTT!"  Makoto cried, not realizing that the water on her face did not come only from her tears, but from the sky above her as well. 

               Makoto sank to her knees and sobbed, becoming more and more soaked as the minutes ticked by.  She took no heed of it.  She only felt cold irradiating her body, enfusing her heart with ice. 

               Suddenly, the rain stopped dripping upon her, and a heavy weight enfolded her shoulders in its warmth.

               "Makoto,"  a gentle voice that was as familiar to Makoto as her own drew her eyes upward, even as her shoulder was grasped lightly to bring her up to her feet.  "C'mon Makoto, let's get you home."

               The man in front of her was her best friend, a brother of heart and spirit, a soul-friend.  His name was Ken. 

               "Ken," Makoto said, trying to get her teeth to stop chattering.  "What are you doing here?" 

               Ken began pulling her along down the concrete path.  "I was wandering about when the rain hit, and this path is the quickest to the front gate of the park. Lucky coincidence that I came this way, huh?"

               "Oh Ken..." Makoto cried, throwing her arms around her friend, head on his shoulder, as she wept out the pain of her first broken heart. 

               Ken awkwardly patted her back, blue eyes concerned and tender. 

               "Well, looky here,"  a voice drawled, chilling in its lack of emotion.

               Ken and Makoto both jumped, their heads jerking toward the sound.

               A bald teenager in black leather pants and spike bracelet and necklace leaned insolently against a lamppost.  Three other similarly dressed young men with different kinds of nasty looking weapons were gathered around him, much like dogs panting at their master's heel. 

               Ken roughly shoved Makoto behind him.  "Makoto, run"  he hissed, not looking back.

               She did as commanded until she noticed that he wasn't behind her.  She found herself on a platform about fifteen feet above her previous position.  The next words the leader of the pack issued caused a chill to run up her spine.

               "Your money or your life."  He threatened.

               "I have nothing on, me, punk!"  Ken spat back, carefully looking for where Makoto had run off to. 

               "Then I guess you forfeit your life."  The boss gestured towards Ken, and the pack of dogs swooped in for the kill. 

               "He will die if you don't help him."  A sparkling silvery voice came from out of nowhere. 

               Makoto jumped, startled for the third time that day.  A woman stood next to her, in white leather pants and a wine red tunic that were dagged at the sleeves.

               "Wha...What did you say?"  Makoto stuttered. 

               "He will die if you don't help him, Makoto, Sailor Jupiter."  The woman replied again, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. 

               "But what can I do?  Do you have a cell phone?" Makoto frantically raced through her options, letting the strange comment go as a heat of the moment remark.

               Again, it seemed as if the woman divined her thoughts.  "By the time the police get here, it will be too late.  You must help him, Makoto!" 

               Makoto glanced at Ken, who indeed was in trouble.  He was bleeding heavily from several gashes, and multiple bruises had formed on the visible portions of his arms. 

               "But what can I do?"  Makoto asked again, only to discover that the woman had disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared.

               A scream hit the air.  Ken was down on one knee, and his nose had begun to bleed.  Makoto began to race towards the scene, heedless of the harm that the dangerous dregs of society might cause her. 

               "KEN!!!" She shrieked.  The people below looked up as she barreled towards them from above. 

               The leader turned around as well, and that was when she noticed the small gun in his hand.  It was aimed at Ken. 

               "NOOOOOOOO!!!!"  She screamed, tumbling down the hill faster.  She kept her view locked upon the leader as he cocked the gun back, still looking at her.  He grinned maliciously. 

               Makoto knew she couldn't let it end that way.  Her heart raced, knocking against her ribcage in a frantic attempt to get out.  The air around her crackled with electricity.  She swung her harms faster, and faster, pumping her legs harder and harder. 

               The leader's finger tightened on the trigger. 

               A backwards four sign flashed on Makoto's forehead.  Her once pink nail polished darkened to a forest green, and she drew her arm back in an unconscious gesture.  Without understnading her actions, she skidded to a halt and threw her arm forwards with all of her might, shouting  "Jupiter Thunder Clap ZAP!!!"

               Soundless thunder crashed about the petrified group.  The leader of the gang fired at Ken.  And a green ball of lightning struck both the gun and the bullet, destroying both, and badly burning the leader.

               The gang stared in horror at the chestnut-haired beauty.  And then they turned tail and ran. 

               Makoto strove to fight the endless stream of images crashing into her head.  She staggered towards Ken, and fainted right into his arms as the first siren pierced the air...

~~~~~~~~~~~~)

               Two sharp raps drew Makoto back into the present.  She noticed that the food she had been cooking was gone, which meant that she had probably finished the two specials while trapped in her rememberances.

               "Excuse me, doll, but I was looking for the genius whose cooking this was."  A young man, about her age, Makoto guessed, stood in the doorway.  He seemed to be close to six feet and his white linen suit looked kind of rumpled, like it had been slept in.  His hair was longer than her own and had been pulled back into a ponytail.

               The man cleared his throat.

               "Huh...Oh," Makoto shook her head.  "I don't know what's wrong with me," She laughed nervously.  "I'm the chef and owner of this restaurant, sir."  She held out her hand, expecting a firm handshake.

               She was pleasantly surprised when the indigo-eyed stranger brought her hand to his lips in a delicate greeting. 

               "Duo Maxwell, Ms..."  The man's voice was lyrical, masculine but with a hint of music to it, like dark chocolate on a full moon. 

               "Makoto Kino, Mr. Maxwell.  And I'm glad you liked the special." 

               Another voice drifted through the open door, those one...more unused sounding.  "Duo!  Let's go." 

               "Well, that would be my friend Trowa, so I guess I better run...it was nice meeting you Ms. Kino.  I hope we meet again."  The stranger's look caused Makoto to blush, and the man chuckled as he exited the door. 

               "I hope so to, Duo Maxwell."  Makoto murmured, and turned back to her cooking.

*_*_*_*_*_**_*__*_*_*_*_*_*_*_**_*_*_**_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

               Two robed figures looked into a crystal ball, watching the scenario unfold.  "Oh, you will meet again,"  One whispered.  "My word on it."

*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)

(1)  Last chapter, I called Makoto's restaurant the Flying Dutchman.  I am changing it due to prior ownership problems.  (My friends declared that name their own for a restaurant they plan to build)

(2)  So what was Makoto's first boyfriend's real name?  I made this one up.

Note:  Voting will be closed next chapter!  So if you want to a chance to make a decision...speak up now or forever hold your peace.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. (It was my longest yet.  Five pages, at 10 font) 

Ja ne!

AutumnHime