This was a new experience for him. The man in the red hair laughed as he cleared a building in a single jump. A simple hop brought him from street to rooftop. He hands flashed in a three-movement kata before he hit roof tile. Over a mile of flat running, and he wasn't even winded. An unfortunate, misplaced antenna was cut down by his arm strike as he whipped by. The night was his. He was the night's. No one could have viewed Tokyo as he did; laying innocent under the stars, warm breeze taking away one's breath. A chain fence around the school roof made no more difference than a curb. The wind he made ripped back his hair, splayed out his black cloak, slicked his lungs. Though people were awake and about everywhere, he was alone in the night. His feet pounded like pistons on the roof. He swept back his arms to decrease the wind resistance. Lights blurred around him. The world was his. The sounds of strife played scent of rotted meat to his fly. A few minor rooftop jaunts and he was there. And here was hell. A clichéd witch cackled maniacally as a Daimon stole heart crystals. He struck. The scene changed. It was a simple feeling of duty, not any outright detest that made him kill the Daimon. He felt it was asked of him; that was all. That was all that was needed. A kick executed from the top of a five story building knocked the thing reeling. He gave it no chance to recover. A punch to the beast's neck severed the head, killing it. The witch stood in shock for a moment. He stood in shock. His hands had worked by instinct alone. A beast that would have bested most men stood dead after only two strikes. He stared at his hands. Then curled them into fists. A laugh to rival the witch's own ripped down the street. He charged. A few steps he ran down the street. Then with a push off, he was flying down the street, kick chambered and ready. The witch prepared an attack as best as she could, hampered by time and the heart crystal container. He could smell her fear. Just before the attack was launched, he was forced to brake his flight, dropping to his feet. The attack was about to come. He heard a voice, telling him to run. He dismissed it. The attack came, roaring down the street. He braced himself, his hands coming up to the right position. Evil magic did its damnedest to take him down. His palms stung from the effort. He was not moved back even an inch. The attack, the whole, damned, thing went rocketing skyward. Deflected by him. By him alone. But the attack had also succeeded in one way at least. The witch had bought herself enough time to escape by magical means. The street before him, but for the fallen. The green haired woman behind him was staring. Staring at him. "You. can't be. You can't be alive. How in God. Nataku." She seemed nearly about to pee herself. He excused himself. High upon the rooftops again, the man began to laugh again. So, now he had a name. Nataku. Sounded good. Sounded noble. Sounded honorable. Sounded fierce. He hopped down to the street, finding a secluded spot. There, the blood of his hair and the coal of his cloak melted, diffusing into his normal self. This could be a fun new pastime.

Usagi was nearly out the door when Setsuna, coming out of nowhere, shoved her back inside the house. The older girl wore an uncharacteristic expression of worry. Almost panicking. "Call the other Senshi. Now." "But I was just on my way to school," Usagi tried to protest. Setsuna snapped, informing the blonde that if she didn't get the other Senshi there pretty damn quick, they were all in deep trouble. When she asked, the only answer Usagi got was: "end of the world trouble". News of trouble brewing brought all the Senshi, Inner and Outer, running, and damn what they had been doing. Ami was the last to arrive, and thus bore the brunt of Setsuna's anger. When they saw the normally calm Sailor Pluto reduced to a bundle of nerves, the other Senshi knew it was bad. Setsuna produced a newspaper clipping from her pocket. It displayed a black cloaked man with blood red hair that touched the small of his back. He was busy making hamburger out of a Daimon's face. "As you all know, this man has recently been showing up. He has defeated Daimons left and right, and forcing witches back in fear. Thanks to him, the efforts of the Dark Moon Family have probably been pushed back months or even years." All the girls looked at each other. He certainly was impressive. And, as Usagi pointed out, cute to boot. "This man is a problem," Setsuna said when attention shifted back to her. Numerous questions broke out, wondering just why he was a problem. Minako was even so hormonal as to ask how such a cute boy could be trouble. Setsuna just looked annoyed. "In the Moon Kingdom, we like to think everything was perfect. It wasn't. there were. flaws. And this man is one such flaw. Or rather, he is the greatest flaw in the whole Moon Kingdom. His is known only as Nataku, the Dread Knight. He was probably the single most dangerous person in all of the Moon Kingdom." "Why?" asked Ami, genuinely interested. "Reason one: he was god with a sword in his hands. He slaughtered a hundred enemies, just him and them. No one withstood more than one strike of his blade. No one. He could even kill three people in one slash. "The second reason is even worse. Any magical attack, no matter who made it, could be deflected by him. Moon Scepter Elimination, Mars Fire Soul, even Silence Glaive Surprise succeeded only in making him red in the face." Low whistles accompanied that. "The third and final reason is the worst of all. Nataku the Dread Knight was a borderline sociopath with a hair-trigger temper. He absolutely did not give a damn about who he killed. Shear good fortune kept him on our side." That was met with a battery of questions. Setsuna held up both hands for quiet. She eventually got it. "The Dread Knight can best be described as a puppy dog with a shotgun. He was horribly efficient at killing. But he was also the shiest and dorkiest lecher in existence. He followed the Senshi only because he found us pretty. He would latch on to whichever one of us was nearest and practically bark if we said 'speak.' But piss him off, and that did not take much, and he would kill you." "How did he do this?" asked Ami again. "Did he use magic?" "No. The Dread Knight was no kind of magician. It was his pure tenacity and fighting spirit that granted him these powers. He also possessed an instinctive understanding of all things pertaining to combat, and this allowed him to pick holes in any attack or defense. He actually is the basis of all forms of martial arts, though he never passed on everything he knew. "I cannot say anything definite about this man. He is simply too unstable. He could be ally or foe." Usagi protested. "But he served the Moon Kingdom! He would help us if we asked! Wasn't he loyal?" "Princess, the Dread Knight served the Moon Kingdom because there was nothing better to do. He held no loyalty. Also, his desire to curry favor towards the Senshi had a good deal to do with that servitude." "Could we get him to serve us again?" That was Haruka. "Easily. Getting him to stay loyal is another thing entirely." Blank stares from around the table. "When Beryl rebelled against the Moon Kingdom, she quickly won Nataku the Dread Knight over to her side. All it took was for her to tell him she loved him. From that moment on, he would have removed his right arm if she had asked it. "During Beryl's insurrection, a minor rebellion occurred on the planet Mercury. It consisted of one man. The Dread Knight. Sailor Mercury faced him on the battlefield. He cut her down like it was nothing." Ami sat stark still. Makoto ran a soothing hand over her friend's shoulders. "When Beryl heard of this, she believed the rest of the Senshi would fall quickly after. Concluding she no longer needed Nataku the Dread Knight, she stabbed him in the back. Literally." Makoto voiced something that had been troubling her. "How did he make it here? No one else could have moved people forward in time, and I doubt Queen Serenity would send a traitor forward. So, what's he doing here?" "The Dread Knight performed feats no one had thought possible before hand. I saw him enter a meditative state for one month straight. No food, no water for one full month. He barely even breathed. It isn't impossible for him to have beaten the time stream." "What's the plan if we encounter him?" asked Michiru. "First, you are always to address him by his full title. Try to humor him and his eccentricities, but don't make it obvious. If he starts getting angry, do everything to talk him down out of it. He seems to be slightly hampered now, but if you ever see him with a sword, walk on eggshells the whole time." The Senshi departed on their own ways after that. No one, not even Usagi, said a word as the impromptu meeting was adjourned. Setsuna left in her own way, into the time stream. Could she risk a paradox and look for the Dread Knight? Maybe, but she didn't think it would be a good idea. Everything the man touched corrupted into chaos. Setsuna offered up a silent prayer that Nataku never remember how to draw Shinkiri. Damn. This was getting bad.

The blonde woman was an unusual sight. Her short hair had been released from its normal foxtail, now doing its best to spill down her face. She wore a wine colored blazer with a white blouse underneath. A short black skirt and long black stockings made her appear to be wearing pants. A black choker rested around her throat, sporting an English-style coat of arms. The coat of arms had one word blazed across the top: Hellsing. Seras Victoria had left Hellsing behind her in the ruins of the Tower of London. Even if Alucard had beaten Incognito, it didn't matter. She had drunk Alucard's blood; her past ties to him no longer held. And he didn't want her anyway. Seras tried to keep the tears from welling up behind her dark glasses. She wasn't the only one on the red-eye from Athens to Tokyo, but she may as well have been. Only around thirty other passengers; Seras practically had a whole section to herself. That was good, since she was busy trying to at least learn I don't speak Japanese in Japanese. And it wasn't going well. "Boku wa Nihongo hanashimasen. Boku wa Nihongo hanashimasen. Boku wa Nihongo hanashimasen." God! How the cocking fuck was someone supposed to speak this shit? Well, if she was relocating there, maybe she would have to get used to it. Or else find a good interpreter. A twenty four hour interpreter. The plane touched down in the airport. The passengers disembarked, taking their luggage with them. Seras carried only a small suitcase that held her entire life. Customs agents saw a fake passport. She may be immigrating for a century or two, but that was no reason for them to know. She was trying to get on the Inokashiro rail line when she ran into her first trouble. The entire map was in Japanese chickenscratch. Her distress must have shown, for a young Japanese man came up and began to speak. Seras had just managed to get out the Boku wa when she realized he was speaking English. He laughed. "Sorry, Sorry. 'boku' is used only by men. You use 'watashi.'" "Two words for 'I'? Bloody hell!" Seras moaned. "What about 'I', 'me', 'my'? English just as bad. Even worse." He then assumed the expression of someone who had just discovered a snake underfoot. "Sorry!" He bowed. "No, no its alright." "Sorry, I not introduce myself. Am Uchiyama Akira. And you are? "Seras Victoria. Pleased to meet you." The two of them began trying to figure out a place for Seras to stay. She had no job, no friends, no family. And apartments were expensive. The only possibility that could be devised was her to share Akira's. He said it was small, but it should be good for two if they were careful. And Seras wasn't exactly worried about him trying anything; the man didn't seem to enjoy the prospect. Even if he did try something, he would find himself sorry. It was just becoming morning in this part of the world, and Seras needed to get behind closed doors. Now. Upon entering the apartment, she closed the blinds and curled up in a small corner, under the pretense of needing rest. Turns out she needn't have bothered. Akira worked nights himself. They both curled under some form of covers or other, and fell asleep. Seras awoke to a surprise. Akira was gone, leaving only a note that claimed the apartment was now hers, along with everything in it. Having a new apartment, and a strange benefactor, she wondered just what she'd gotten herself into.

Haruka was quite bored with herself when the phone rang. At the other end was a friend of hers from the racing circuit. He said he was in a bit of a bind and asked if he could come over to talk about it. Haruka permitted it and hung up. Something was wrong. That man would never have asked himself in to someone's house the way he just had. Haruka was expecting the worst when Akira showed up at her door. He was carrying a suitcase and his typical shit-eating grin. He stepped inside and left his shoes and suitcase near the door. Akira was a guy she knew from the racing circuit. He was usually shy and quiet around women, but he was a hellion on the track. Akira could give even Haruka a run for her money. But put the man around a girl he found pretty, and he was a complete loser. Pleasantries were exchanged. When Haruka introduced Michiru, instead of his typical quiet hello and shy blush, Akira looked her right in the eye and gave warm greetings. Haruka knew then what was different about him. Akira, the bashful loser, fairly exuded confidence. Confidence barely concealed by a shroud of humility. "So, what brings you down here out of the blue?" Michiru asked, breaking the ice. "Well ma'am, it's kinda embarrassing," now Akira was red in the face. "What is it?" Haruka asked the question for herself this time. "I got evicted." Blank stares from Haruka and Michiru's side of the room. "Yup, landlord finally got pissed and kicked my ass straight out. aaaa!" Akira slapped a hand over his mouth. "Fuck, I said ass didn't I? Gaaa!" Akira regained himself again. "I apologize, Michiru-san." He didn't apologize to Haruka. Three years of the track had earned him the right to swear around her. Haruka also had the sinking suspicion Akira also always thought of her as one of the guys. "It's alright Akira-san. I've heard worse out of Haruka-chan's mouth." Akira blinked. Akira laughed. He didn't shyly giggle as he had before. This was a deep belly laugh. One a good-natured party animal might make when he finds himself the butt of some joke. Laughter over, Akira returned to his reason for being here. "The problem is, I need a place to stay until I can find a new pad. Haruka-kun, I was wondering. if I could. if you have a guest room or something." "Why the hell not?" Michiru asked to no one in particular. Before clapping a hand over her own mouth, just as Akira had done. Haruka and Akira chuckled. Michiru reddened. "I think what Michiru is trying to say is, 'we already have one boarder so why not?' But you're paying rent as long as you stay here." "Another boarder?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or that's what they say. No sooner were the words sprung from his lips, than Setsuna descended the stairs. She wore her usual expression of omniscience, framed by a mane of green hair. There was a small look of recognition that flashed across Akira's face and was gone again. "Sorry, I just thought I knew you from somewhere." All three women looked at the man who'd made that statement. He bore out the scrutiny with unnatural stoicism. Akira faced Haruka once more. "Thank you again, Haruka-kun. I don't have much, just one suitcase. And I'll be quick about finding a new place. I promise I'll be gone in no time." The women quickly assured him that it was no problem and to think of this as home. Even if Setsuna was not sincere. While Akira was settling into a room upstairs, getting his futon ready, Haruka cornered Setsuna. "Setsuna, I don't care if you don't like my friend, but at least be polite. Suffer him until he leaves." "It's not that!" "What then? If he worries you, I can promise he is the perfect gentleman. At least around pretty girls." "Baka! It's not that either. Akira didn't mistake me for someone, he already knew me. And it is imperative I remember from where." In his new room upstairs, Akira waited until Michiru left before cracking his smile. He had to take a bite out of his tongue to keep from laughing aloud. This was all too rich.

Seras stood up the rooftops of the night, gazing down on the city. She was looking for someone. She didn't know who, not just yet, but she would recognize them. The wind ripped through her hair, scattering it across her face. The chill affected her not at all. There he was. He was a monster, a killer. He walked as a murderer would walk. He was her justification. She swooped low, landing on the ground in a crouch. Her killer whirled, drawing his weapon. It didn't help him. He died anyway. Seras was still there with her fangs in his throat when the words Shine Aqua Illusion were called out into the night. A horrible chill struck her back, slamming her into the ground. Seras Victoria became a Seras-cicle, frozen to the street, adrenaline threatening to overwhelm her. There was a constricting sensation in her chest; a vise gripped about her heart. Someone played accordion with her guts. Seras' pupils became slits. Sailor Mercury stared, an expression of pure terror on her face, as the Daimon shattered open the ice block. She barely avoided being hit full on by the monster's punch. Mercury had fully been expecting some form of weird sermon from the Daimon. This one was different from others in that respect: it didn't preach or be dramatic; it went straight for the throat. She had to stop her analysis in order to backflip out of the way of a claw swipe. Those claws had torn a furrow in the street as easily as though Tokyo was paved in gelatin. The Daimon stopped for a moment and looked Mercury in the eye. The Daimon's eyes were white saucers with pinpricks for pupils. A sneer curled into the Daimon's face. Mercury saw a pair of canine teeth that were easily five centimeters long. Five centimeters, each. The beast charged again. "World Shaking!" The words were a godsend to Sailor Mercury. A righteous bar of energy struck the Daimon square in the chest. It flew like a Raggedy Andy doll. Around the other side of the street, it finally stopped bouncing. The welcome sight of Sailor Uranus rounded the corner. "You know, you really shouldn't play rough with girls bigger than you," admonished the tall woman to the shorter. "Are you alright?" asked Sailor Neptune from behind Uranus. "Just." Mercury was cut off by a rather harsh and rather loud expletive from Sailor Uranus. Turning to where Uranus was looking, she saw that the Daimon was not dead. Far from it. The thing was getting up, albeit shakily, the hole in its chest already shrinking. "That wasn't fucking nice," the Daimon told them all. Mercury was the only one who understood. She was the only one who spoke any English. The Daimon tensed itself for a jump. "WORLD SHAKING!" "DEEP SUBMERGE!" "SHINE AQUA ILLUSION!" Three magical attacks descended on the point where the Daimon crouched. Where the Daimon had crouched. Like some cheap special effect, the Daimon disappeared, flashing back into existence directly above Uranus. Its claws curled. Uranus brought her hands up for another World Shaking. Mercury and Neptune readied their own attacks, trying to protect their teammate. A spirit of blood and shadow came out of nowhere. It had the Daimon in a headlock and was sprinting down the street with its prize before any of the three Senshi knew what hit them. A beat passed in silent indecision. Or perhaps in shock that Uranus was still alive. Then the three of them were off, after the Daimon and its savior. Blood haired figure and his package rounded the first corner they came to. Mercury nearly skidded past the alley. Uranus and Neptune charged down it without even slowing. The feeling of magic building charged the air. "Mars. Fire." the attack name ended in a wordless scream. The trio of running Senshi came upon the fallen Sailor Mars. The Outers never stopped, just kept chasing their two targets. Mercury knelt by her friend and began to examine the soldier. Mercury remembered to breathe again when she saw Mars was stunned but alright. "Can you stand?" Mercury was already trying to lift her comrade into a sort of leaning-carry. Sailor Mars only said one, single, horrifying thing. "It was Nataku." Mercury wished that Uranus and Neptune weren't chasing that Daimon alone.