Author's note: This is not a real fanfiction, but small drabbles. These are not meant to be connected to each other in anyway, there are all just individual stories. Character's thoughts is in italic text.

Disclaimer: I don't owe any of the characters from Sailor Moon.

Drabble title: Bleeding in the dark.

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Minako is the goddess of love, Sailor Venus, and in her past; Sailor V. But she's slowly starting to believe that the one thing she has been fighting for since she was very young, doesn't excist.

She's standing alone again, in the cold autumn rain. She coldly blinks away the rain in her eyes, and realises that it could be tears. She sighs, and looks up at a sky dotted with bright stars. The pain grows stronger. Another hour out in the weather like this will kill me, she manage to get through to the last remaining sane part of her-her brain, but it don't do anything about it, and the wind grow stronger, more wild, more ruthless, and her sadness gets carried with it, and she sobs loudly. Don't cry. Just don't cry. You know they all want that. Come on Minako, break down and cry your eyes out, go on and scream for help like a little child- but no. She looks up with misty, blue eyes, staring out at the ocean. I can't let me destroy myself.

This happens a lot to her. This feeling of being expandable to everything and everyone, is nothing new to 16-year old Aino Minako, and she cries a bit more, a few more bitter tears. There once were a past, a present, surely. Maybe even a future. But people took distance. Kept her away, though she hopelessly tried to be loved, no one ever heard her painful screams in the dark. Do they even try to realize how hard it can be, trying to stand strong in this world, slipping, getting up, almost there, hands resting on your knees, fuck it, slipping again, and BOOM, down there, in the darkness again. And once you're there, it's so impossible to rise gracefully, and be who you used to be. She realises that she doesn't remember. A blonde girl from her past, a soldier of love and beauty.

Sailor V. Sailor Venus. Aino Minako. Aren't they just one? Aren't they just her? She angrily shudders in the cold and her head now rests at the iron fence at the harbor. She realises that she doesn't know. She realises that no one cares. Her heart aches, and nothing can heal it, it's too late. A filthy shadow from her past searches, lures around the next corner where she knows that she's gonna be decieved again. I can't let me destroy myself. Her eyes hold no tears, they dried out and died, and now she can't cry no more. What's the sagacity in this? Where's the meaning? I can't let me destroy myself. She groans, lifts her head, and in the distant she is hearing the cars driwing by, and the hollow sounds of the streetlife, ecchoing in her aching head. I just can't let me destroy myself.

What it felt like to be held in someone's arms. Warm, secure. Love. And the smile of him, yes, the most beautiful thing in life. The passion burning in the face of a lover, the kisses, the goodness, for God's sake, do it excist? She laughs. Hell yeah, it's something so superficial, made up in god damned hollywood. Love. Amor. No such thing. And she is the one fighting for- this. Love. Something that she can't have, she doesn't believe in it. "How unreal", she quietly whispers, making up her mind. And she once again sighs, noticing that it stopped raining. She smiles. The past that she doesn't have means nothing, when she falls dead to the ground in her dreams, fading like a rose. She's so dead, but she smiles, when she realises that she's alive.

They never cared for her, just her body. Her smile fades, but no one can see, since it's in the darkness of the night. There is no goal, no target, no arrival. Because she believes in nothing. At the time when her heart screamed for love, men crushed it, and tarnished her pride. They left me bleeding in the dark. She's holding a rose in her hand, and by the fence, she narrowes her eyes, and looks down at the beautiful, crimson rose in her hand. It's thorns stings her palm, and small tears run down her cheeks- but she doesn't cry loudly. She's starting to wonder, if the crimson color belongs to the rose's petals, or her blood. Yes. Her tears lands softly on the beautiful flower, and she throws it into the ocean, giving it no second thought. Bleeding in the dark.

It's getting colder, but she never feels it. She lets a desparing sigh escape from her parted lips, and falls to the ground.