Blood on the Moon
by Lydiby

Chapter IV

Bleakness crept in with third quarter. I'd been excluded from the Holiday performances because of my injury. Given I was a sophomore, but you couldn't get enough exposure.

It was just as well. Sailor Moon had no relief. New York was simply too big; I had to limit myself to what I came across by chance. A dead Sailor Moon was good to no one, and I didn't want anyone to know she was in town. Publicity would go straight back to any lingering enemies.

I was beginning to reassess my dream of becoming a dancer. How could I when I was Sailor Moon? But how could Sailor Moon make a living? I needed a pragmatic degree and a part time job.

Massaging my temples I looked at the course book. How was I going to do this?

"Sere, life! You look downright stoned." Surprised I looked up into Topaz's honey eyes. When had she come in?

"I've just got a headache, Topazi," I murmured dejectedly glancing down at the book again.

"Oh Sere, you take everything so seriously. You're unrecognizable as the cheerful effervescent girl who arrived a year and a half ago. Hold out your arm," she commanded.

"What?" I breathed at her irrelevant command.

She straightened it out and began probing.

"Ouch, Topaz!" I whined as she relentlessly massaged on a tender spot.

"Inside your elbow there's a pressure point that will get rid of your headache. You're coming out with me tonight. No more brooding. You need to lighten up, girl-child."

I stared at her, but almost immediately the headache began to lift.

"Now come on, we'll find you something to wear." She imperially rose from her seat on my futon and threw open the doors of the small built-in wardrobe. She chucked out tops, skirts, dresses, pant until still sitting on my futon I was buried up to my waist. Hanging on the door was a clingy red tank to be worn under a tight black long sleeve shirt with jagged slashes in it to expose bits of skin and teal. She was in hunt of a skirt when she froze. Slowly she pulled her submerged head out of the closet. Turning she gave me a perturbing look. With a reluctant air she pulled a hanger out. It was Mamoru—no it was Darien's jacket.

"You still have this?" She held it slightly away, grasping the hook between three fingers.

"Evidement," I murmured, glancing away. Why did she care anyway? Candidly, I had forgotten about that whole episode. I didn't have time or energy to think of it, and for once, ignoring it seemed to make the problem go away.

"Don't get French with me, Sere."

"You mean 'fresh' with you? I said 'obviously,' Topazi," I muttered, "I don't know, I just jammed it in there and forgot about it. Why do you care?"

"It…was just unsettling. I'm not accustomed to having my two lives bridged. With the Argents, we all know tonight might be it. We're ready, but when we do come home in the morning everything is normal, human, mundane and that's the way it's supposed to be. It's queerly funny, you've got monster auroras in you're closet."

"Monster auroras in my closet," I repeated and then guffawed.

"Still, it would be a shame to waste those shoes." She clucked raising the Gucci's out of a magnitude of random objects on the floor. She raised them up to eye level and glared at them.

"Topaz, I'll break and ankle if I'm lucky and two if I'm not!"

"Nonsense, I can get the Rei off these in no time. Get dressed." She threw a long jean skirt with knee high side slits, paint, fray and random rhinestones at me and ducked out of the dorm.

Changed, I dashed across the landing in into Topaz's dorm. She shared it with a girl named Brook, who was also an art major, though her parents thought she was studying law. Their combined talent turned limited space into something unheard of. They'd tacked canvases across the walls and painted murals of a bohemian street, a Japanese sunrise, and Brook's rather abstract interpretation of aurora borealis. Which was what she claimed had inspired her to become an artist rather than follow her parents' beck and call.

From the ceiling draped a large piece of fishnet. In one corner a potted ivy plant had been induced to grow upon it. All across brightly colored glass and metal charms were suspended to catch the sunlight and toss it about the room. A rainbow of haphazard glass vases crowded the windowsills and the window seat was covered in an African tapestry blanket.

"Sere!" Brook greeted me with a smile, "have a cup of tea. Topaz will be done in a moment."

She pressed a stunningly originally hand painted cup into my hands that appeared Mexican, if it wasn't one of her own. A soft herbal scent rose with the steam, soothing a diffident return of my headache.

"Thanks," I replied, before taking a long draft.

The afternoon light was quickly fading away into an astringent night. Topaz's stride swaggered as she entered the room, looking cocky in her classic Chinese-cut blue silk top and fitted jeans.

"Here you go," she chirruped, happily depositing the shoes in my lap, "you can barrow my mac to keep your legs warm."

"Your mac," I breathed in awe. All protestation immediately drained out of me. Her mac was one of a kind. She'd found a white one in a thrift store and gotten a brilliantly imaginative idea. Topaz had painted ferny fronds swirling all across it. It was positively sublime. Unconsciously my fingers had done up the straps and buckles and Topaz dragged me out the door.

Listlessly, I slouched on a stool at a table in the corner. Every now and then I spotted Topaz in the crowd below. I shrunk into whatever shadows I could; in a moment she'd come looking for me. Clubbing just wasn't my idea of a good time. Her surreal topaz eyes flashed in a strobe light as she spotted me. Soundlessly, I sighed to myself. When I looked up again she was gone.

"Topaz?" I whispered; she couldn't hear me if I shouted. Standing on the footrest I still couldn't find her. Jumping down, I jogged around the dining area rail.

As I reached the few short steps to the dance floor it all went wrong. People began to scream though it was impossible to tell why. Masses began to shove for the exits. The pulsing base beat through the floor.

Two figures stood alone on a growing empty space of black floor. Another was sprawled on the ground. Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled forward, pushing through people. There were only two, one had fallen and the other was kneeling over the sprawled out person.

"Topaz!" I screamed as I recognized her shirt and rich mahogany hair. Her skin was transparently pale contrasting horribly against something dark running down her neck, blood. Darien in a dark mac was leaning over her. As I clumsily tried to run forward he raised her head and pressed the inside of his wrist to her mouth. Finally, I broke free of the crowd and reached them.

"What are you doing?" I screamed, part in panic and part in outrage. In another flash of the strobe he had raised his head with a surprised look in his eyes that was out of place on his features. Before he could do or say anything I unthinkingly jumped him. Wildly, I pounded him with my fists as hard as I could, but he didn't yield, at all.

"Usagi, stop it," he commanded, grasping one wrist tightly he pulled me to the side. I shivered as something sticky dripped onto my skin. With a warning squeeze he released me and turned back to Topaz's limp form. She gave an agonized moan and stirred as he lifted her.

"Follow me," Darien coldly told me. We went out a side fire exit where a black limo was parked.

"Get in."

Mindlessly, I did as he said. The interior was black, with the exception of a crystal vase of red roses on the black marble bar. Lightly, he deposited her on the seat next to me.

"What have you done to my friend?" I breathed, staring at her ashen form.

"I have saved her from eternal sleep because you value her greatly, do you not?"

"You killed her!" I accused, but I was past screaming and raving. My voice quietly shook in a rage that was more than fatal. No, I'd had enough of losing friends. He would pay. On my own sweet time he would pay.

"She was already dead," he soullessly countered, "I will leave her with you, but I warn you she will be hungry when she wakes. You will need me to control her, unless you'd care to repeat your experience of a few months ago."

I drew back into myself. This man was colder and more cutting than Chiba Mamoru had been capable.

My beautiful friend; she had become what she had destroyed. Now she looked like one of those creatures I'd seen in that mansion so long ago. Her art had been life and she'd lived to create and protect it. Now she was dead and death could create only more death and pain.

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I clasped one frigid pallid hand of hers to my cheek and wept as we drove back to Morningside Heights. Head down, I followed silently as he carried her up the stairs, like a mourner in a procession. He didn't ask which room was hers. He somehow knew on his own which at any other time would have disturbed me. Brook was out, thankfully. He put her down and slowly turned to face me.

"I see, perhaps, why you mourn her death, but you do not understand death."

"No, it is you who does not understand death. You do not understand what it means to be left behind in despair," I bitterly retorted.

His eyes darkened.

"Once, I was foolish like you, but I am no longer. Death is but a state of mind."

"To you," I whispered, at loss. Her form was limp. Sinking slowly onto the window seat I clutched a bright green velour pillow and toyed listlessly with the diversely textured threads in the African blanket beneath me. Darien leaned against the Japanese sunrise wall and did not move. At four Topaz stirred. The salt had long since crusted upon my cheeks.

"Usagi, get behind me," Darien ordered. He stood next to me, but had not visibly moved. Dazed, I blinked and he easily grasped my shoulders and tugged me behind him. A feral noise erupted from in front of him. Slowly, she released a deep hissing breath. My skin prickled and lightning danced down my spine. Then the noise was behind me; I spun around in terror. Nails raked across my face and an arm around my waist lifted me out of harm's way.

"This was stupid. If I'd had more time for thought I would not have acted so rashly," Darien growled. His voice rumbled in his chest. Slipping in front of me he grabbed Topaz's wrist and they vanished.

Sinking onto her bed, I fell asleep, unable to shake my haunting last view of her.

Topaz hungrily stared at me with eyes that had become black.

'Sere, I'm sorry. I'm leaving you now,' a soft whisper coiled into my half woken mind. Something cool, damp, and rough brushed my cheek. My sleep became deeper and the dreams stranger.

Waking brought knowledge of mind shields and a sort of vampire code that I found difficult to grasp. My cheek had discreetly scarred. The room was undisturbed, but I knew she would not be coming back again.