Blood on the Moon By Lydiby Chapter VI

Makoto had caught up with me. It was peculiar how even when I tried we couldn't be pulled apart.

She'd seen posters on construction walls for a classical Japanese display at the Met that was touring the major museums and run me to the ground. Makoto had even got dinner tickets for the gallery opening night and refused to tell me how. It was ridiculously expensive, ladies in commissioned gowns from designers with loans from Tiffany's and Cartier's, the men in genuine Armani.

Gazing around at New York's 'Ton' I wondered just what the hell I was doing here. Even in an elegant white and black satin sensation that she had hemmed and taken in for me, I felt shabby. Makoto however looked at ease. Slipping in and out of majestic clusters she left genuine smiles and a fresh breeze of laughter in her wake. In emerald jewel tones she was élan enough to distract an art-crazed crowd from the scent of fresh oils. I was more than a little floored; 'a studio apartment and she can afford all this?'

Wandering a bit I came across Rain Shower on the Ohashi Bridge. It was slightly humorous in a detached sort of way. People ran to get out of the rain, not matter when, no matter where. Some things just don't change. Bored with that, I continued down a row of landscapes. The thing about Japanese landscapes is they tell a story if you look close enough, usually a romance or a tragedy such as washed out bridges, suggesting a devastating flood. But appreciation of that kind of detail required a devotion bordering on obsession.

Then I found a collection of Hokusai's Thirty-six views of Mt. Fuji.

'Who would bother to spend that much time painting a big rock?' I wondered, but then it reminded me of home and I found myself slowly moving up and down the displays. Looking at them, Mt. Fuji always seemed to be tucked away somewhere in the background. I decided I liked The Wave best. It made me think that it wasn't always your fault when things went wrong. You can't always control things.

Notwithstanding, it was duller than dirt. I felt like I was sleepwalking as I made my way to a table of refreshments. I ordered a gin and tonic, found an empty bar stool and lounged.

Darks eyes flashed a subtle deep violet in light. I stared; it was Rei. She wore a simple royal blue camisole and grey pants. The bizarre abduction, the Gucci shoes, the party; all incoherently ran through my mind at once. First she mouthed something that could only have been obscene and then she smiled. The canines made it vicious, but it was not malevolent.

"You are the only similarity in taste my brother and I have ever shared," she casually drawled.

I had no idea what to say to that! So I didn't say anything at all. After a moment's thought, I took it to mean that her brother wasn't here, whoever he was. All in all, I decided that was a good thing. A very good thing.

"I must admit our rough start was due entirely to me," her eyelids hooded her eyes in a feline manner. "I'm used to taking whatever I want without ever thinking twice," she shrugged blandly, "Papa spoiled me."

Gradually it dawned on me that this was an apology—an apology for Rei. But I still didn't know how to respond so I merely nodded and opened my hands. Hoping the gesture looked polite.

She laughed melodiously, making the occupants of the hall hold their breath for a split second.

"You are charming, aren't you?" She smiled again and I noticed how her glass somehow always had as much in it as before she brought it to her lips, which were a scandalous shade of scarlet.

"It's easy to see why he's so taken with you," she continued.

"W-what?" I stuttered, startled into words.

"Rei! You've met Serena!" Makoto burst in, completely oblivious to any overtones.

"I thought it was Usagi."

"Serena in America, Usagi in Japan," I managed.

In the silence that followed Makoto noticed the 'still waters.'

Frowning, Makoto murmured, "I didn't know that."

I shrugged, by now the 'conversation' had ground past any hope of being restarted. Rei referenced a prior claim on the rest of her evening and made her exit, but not before telling me I'd see her again. I didn't know whether to be flattered or wet myself.

"That's a shame," Makoto sighed, watching Rei's retreating figure, "I hoped you would get to know each other better. She's quite a wit, helps the time pass quicker when the crowd's a drag."

Raising my glass I nodded, I wasn't going to lie and say I wished she had stayed. Her very charisma was power that distorted the natural atmosphere. It made me edgy. After all, who knew what her intent was?

"How long have you known her?" I offhandedly inquired. I wanted to know if I was being watched.

"Uh, two years? Amazing woman really. We've had a few drinks over ex-boyfriends and she has taken some shit you wouldn't believe, but," she grinned deviously, "she knows exactly where to hit 'em every time. If you ever need to get even with someone, she's the one to go to. Rei helped me pull a few stunts of my own." Makoto finished with a silly grin on her face that meant she was remembering something.

So much for that theory.

"Is this about wrapped up then?" I tried to be subtle, but I'd just about had it.

"Oh," she looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time, "just about, I'd say. You wanna go for burgers and a shake?"

"In this?" incredulous, I asked.

"Why not?"

"Alright then."

The waiter thought we were crazy. We laughed at all the looks we got.

Retrospectively, I should have laughed harder.

This thought came as I clubbed a mugger over the head, or rather Sailor Moon did. It was two in the morning, a Thursday morning might I add. During which I had been frantically cramming for finals when this lout of a crack head hard up for cash had distracted me. The lighting was dim, but adequate so this one must've been really desperate.

"Go sniff a sharpie," I muttered disdainfully as he dropped unconscious. For good measure, (and interrupting my studies) I kicked him a few times. The poor bloke who'd been out later than was good for him was fumbling with his cell phone. His wavy dark hair tossed back as he looked up at me.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted.

This was, to say the least, not quite what I'd expected. But I didn't expect the hit of Nephrite déjà vu I got from looking into his eyes either. Thus I did the only sensible thing. Turned around and ran.

'What is going on? Nephrite is dead. I killed him myself! Dead men walking, dead women for that matter, finals and here goes my head spinning like an old carnival ride,' I moaned to myself. Jumping on top the dorm rooftop, out of sight, I untransformed and climbed down the fire escape to my window again. This was getting old.

Flopping back down on my bed, I listlessly tapped my pencil on a notebook. Just as I was slipping back into formulas a stray thought hit me like a frying pan in a bad comedy.

The homeless guy who stuck up for me against Devin and been intimately introduced to a storefront window looked exactly like Zoisite.

After that studying wasn't possible and I let heavenly sleep drag me down into deep waters.

When I woke a white rose rested in the seam of my open textbook. Snarling my hair by dragging my fingers across my scalp I tried to create a semblance of logical thought.

'What's with this? Who keeps leaving me roses? Augh, this is so creepy.'

Shaking my head I wracked my brain for events preceding all the other roses I'd gotten. The first was in the hospital after my third and worst 'run-in' with Devin. The next after I'd gotten home to Morningside from the hospital. The third was shortly after when I thought I'd seen Ami. They'd all showed up after something distressing happened, but what did that mean? I knew five vampires and one was taken with stalking me and the other hated me, the remaining three had even worse motives.

'By all means, tell me which one it is.' I though sarcastically, 'Darien, in the study, with the wrench?'

Suddenly I had a strong urge to go claim Topaz's fishnet decor. Not really knowing why, I walked down to Brook's room and asked her.

She stared at me for several moments, her pupils almost looked like a cat's as she drilled through me. It was, of course, my bizarre imagination run amuck.

"Problems dahling?" she murmured.

"Uh, yeah," I muttered and spontaneously decided to tell her. "Someone keeps leaving me roses while I'm asleep. There's no way anyone could get into there. No way."

"Mmm, who could that be?" she said almost inaudibly. "Well, you'll have to take the ivy too."

"You don't think I'm psycho?"

"Dahling, I've been swinging with the Argents for three years now. In a non-sexually oriented way," she hastily amended. "You must have amazing potential to subconsciously recognize this for what it is."

Brook unfolded her impossibly long frame and reached for the ties and nails holding it.

"What is it?" I asked moving to do the same from the futon.

"A one purpose ward, which allowed us to make it stronger. It will keep anyone with malevolent intentions out. Also the ocean disturbs them, old superstition about running water, you know," she shrugged. "We'll reset a few things and you'll be good."

The next morning there was another rose in a crystal vase on my bedside.

Need, I say I flipped? Brook only shrugged and told me to stop worrying; they obviously had good intentions.

"What else can you do? Yeah, it's really creepy; so shut your blinds when you change. I don't know what else to tell you. It's not like you can go to the police. Just ignore it and enjoy the flowers. Not everything supernatural is a vampire and whoever's doing this isn't going to harm you. Chill dahling," were her exact words.

While I didn't see eye to eye, there was nothing I could do. So I chose to splurge on a nice tall coffee and spend a little time jamming with Melinda at the club.

Just my luck that she would be in an ironic mood and we'd wind up playing 'Bad Moon Rising.'

'I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise.

'I hear hurricanes ablowing. I know the end is coming soon. I fear rivers over flowing. I hear the voice of rage and ruin. Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise. All right!

'Hope you got your things together. Hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for an eye.

'Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise. Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise.'

This was enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck. One minute the crowd was grooving along, having a wonderful time, talking and such, and next it was pitch black.

From the lame twanging sounds from my bass and Melinda next to me, I realized the power had gone out. In a moment a rolling rumble of thunder confirmed it. The crowd shrieked and yelled in the darkness, shattering a momentary silence. I was really glad I wasn't out in the middle of it.

Next to me, I heard Melinda's quiet laughter.

"Nasty weather, huh?" she joked.

Shivering, I was reassured that she, at least, could be calm about it. The song was just too much. Lifting the strap over my head, I groped for her. As people flooded out the door a tiny bit of light was coming in from lightning, but at the very back of the club it did nothing, but daze your eyes. Over people's heads I could just make out sheets of water.

"Melinda?" I called, "Chris?"

"Hey, over here Sere!" the drummer called back, "Melinda's gone already. I've got to pack up this whole bloody set in the dark," he grumbled.

"Hey, I'll try and get to the manager's office for a flashlight," I offered.

"Thanks babe, you're a doll."

Snickering at his jargon, I set the bass down and cautiously hopped off the stage. I stumbled a few steps, kicking an empty beer bottle across the floor. It rattled loudly, and I tried not to shiver. Almost everyone had packed out the door already. Blindly, I slammed into the wall and groaned.

"You alright?" Chris shouted.

"Yeah, just getting reacquainted with some Pink Floyd, you know, The Wall," I bitterly replied while rubbing my nose. He snorted loudly. Heart beating in a horrible frenzy, I started as a deep sexy laugh rose out of the air next to me. The presence was almost tangible. Trailing an arm along the wall—didn't stop me from running into the owner of that laugh.

"Sorry, it's a bit dark in here," I muttered. He laughed again as I fumbled along the doorframe for the handle. Quickly, I grabbed it and shut the door behind me. A relieved sigh rose out of my throat at being alone. It unnerved me to know where someone was without mundane senses. As if I could detect the disturbed air from someone standing in the room almost. The hall to the office was still. I made my way up the stairs, towards flickering candle light.

"Mark, I need a flashlight," I called. The door swung open at a light touch. My vision trailed across the desk, a few scattered papers and a cheap white candle burning. Shrugging, I stepped forward to pick it up and froze.

Mark was lying in a small puddle of blood on the other side of the desk. Quickly, I vaulted over and knelt down to check his pulse. His head dropped when I turned it revealing puncture marks. Horrified, I stood up. He was already dead. Drawing a deep breath I leaned over to pick up the phone receiver and forced open the locked drawer. Grabbing the flashlight and revolver, I dialed emergency and dropped it on the floor.

Chris was in deep shit. Silently, I ran down the stairs hoping he was still alive. Trying not to shake I kicked the door open and swore. The whole place was empty and Chris's drums sat half packed. Warily, I climbed the steps onto the stage. All of the drumheads had exploded outward and the cymbals were impossibly stretched and twisted. Burnt on the floor was a black crescent moon. Jamming the revolver into a coat pocket I sprinted out into the rain, cursing all the way to the subway station.

"Brook?" I yelled as pounded on her door, "It's Serena, open up."

"What the fuck do you want?" her bleary-eyed roommate yelled, only opening the chain.

"Is Brook there?"

"No!"

She slammed the door as loudly as she could on the chain.

"Where the hell is she?"

No response.

"I'll beat on this door until you answer me!" I threatened

"I don't know! Fuck off!" was the muffled reply.

Groaning, I slid down the door. It was at this moment I remembered the gun in my pocket. Trying not to choke, I stumbled to my door and pulled my keys out. My hand shook so badly it took me five minute to get the door open. Dropping onto my bed, I sat there and shook violently for several minutes. Why hadn't I just picked my bass up and left? Why?

'I'm so screwed!'

Eventually, I stood up and left to find the nearest off-campus police station. On the way I found a discreet dumpster. Carefully I unloaded the revolver and wiped any fingerprints off. I put the gun in a trash bag and casually dropped the bullets in another trashcan down the street. Of course the gun would be registered and they'd note it's disappearance, but what more could I do? I wasn't about to be caught with it in my stuff. I'd tell them I hadn't seen a gun in the drawer. I had been looking for a flashlight after all!

Rubbing my forehead, I wondered how on earth I would get through this. The rain was stopping and it was now around six.

When they were finished questioning me it was just after ten. All I knew was the sludge they called coffee around was unfit for lab rats.

The only good thing was it was Saturday. The sun was going down by the time I woke up. In the reflection in the window I thought I saw someone watching me, but when I sat up it was gone. Shivering from paranoia, I snapped the blinds shut. I found a clean shirt in my closet, grabbed my transformation pen out of a drawer, and jammed it in the pocket of my jeans. Dragging the monstrous pile of stuff off the floor inside I began to rummage. Finally the coat emerged, in it was the switchblade and I quickly tucked it in the small of my back, beneath my shirt. Hesitating, my hand lay on the coat. Take it, or leave it? Halfheartedly, I picked it up.

"Layhas," I told Dena.

She returned in kind, grinning at my attempt to mimic her British accent. Unaware that anything was wrong.

Trying to decide whether it was better to be hallucinating or receiving mysterious roses, I hopped down the hall to Brook's room. Shifting from one foot to the other and trying to remember what it was like to be a child.

"Hey, Brook?" I stuck my head around the door.

"Dahling! How are you?" She greeted from the window seat.

"Worse than shit," I said completely bluntly, "Thank Kami, your roommate is out."

"What?" she gave me a puzzled look.

"I came looking for you last night, or early this morning. Said you weren't here along with a few other choice words."

"I'm sorry. What happened?" Her face had paled as I spoke.

"The storm knocked out the power at the club where I was playing. I went up to get a flashlight from the manager and he was dead…" I stopped and rubbed my forehead, "Before that, I was cracking jokes with the drummer. Someone else laughed and I knocked into him.

"Fuck. It must have been a vampire. When I came back down Chris—the drummer, I mean—was gone. His stuff was vandalized, impossibly. There was a burnt crescent moon on the floor and I'm babbling." I shut my mouth.

"S-sit down, dahling," she said in a shaky voice. "I'll have to take you to see someone, but I have to do a few things first."

"What's going on?" I asked, not sure I wanted an answer.

"There's some kind prophecy among the wielders of light, the Argents. Most of them just think it's a fucking load of shit, but lately enough things have come to pass to set them on edge."

As she spoke she grabbed items from boxes and drawers. Placing some of her collection in front of me revealed small glass bottles and jars, no bigger than hotel shampoos.

"What is it?"

"Vervain," she muttered, "What? Oh, you mean…" she closed her eyes as if envisioning it.

"Long has the Lady lain frozen,

Lost her love of light,

In the shadows has fallen,

The last Child of the Sight,

All the seas storm in despair,

The Queen of long desire,

Has left her court an empty chair,

And joined she of the fire,

Purity is lost with bitter irony,

She walked into the sun,

Rather than live in hypocrisy,

And thus the fight is left to one.

Ten thousand years in rising,

Ten thousand years to fall,

And in the end the Darkness will wake to destroy us all."

Her eyes burned silver when she opened them and the lights flickered, buzzing with an electric hum.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have said it aloud," she whispered, "those words have too much power." Her eyes dulled as she shoved back her sandy blond hair with a shaking hand. Never had I seen Brook lose her cool before.

"Damn it," she yelled as she dropped one of the bottles and it shattered on the floor.

"Brook?" I questioned gently.

"Just put those in a pocket and let's go," she whispered dragging her hand through her hair. A sure sign she was agitated, if I hadn't already known. My skin gave a frisson when I slid into the jacket, running up and down my spine before settling a chill in my fingertips.

'Paradise' was spray painted in neon green in a contrasting elegant cursive hand straight across the door and walls on either side. We'd gotten off the sub at Queens and I'd been lost from there. Brook had unlocked the narrow black door and I followed her up the trashy stairs, wondering how this place had gotten past fire codes. My shoulders were brushing wall on either side. Underneath all the graffiti was probably lead paint; this place had been here forever. The haphazard architecture indicated as much; the stairs twisted around from tiny landing to tiny landing until I had no idea which way the street was. Fluorescent lights, the only new fixture as far as I could tell, flickered at a subliminal rate that made you blink and wonder if it was the lights or your eyes?

When Brook stopped I ran into her.

"Wait a sec." She grimaced at me before opening her mouth to speak. "Don't cry for me Argentina," her light voice carried and the walls tossed it around, reverberating into an ethereal pitch. When it had fallen silent the sound of deadbolts clicking was heard for a few seconds.

"I've brought a friend," she murmured quickly.

"Brook has friends?" a male voice mocked.

"Shut up, Jed," she returned and shoved the figure further inside. My hands were freezing, I realized; trying to calm myself, telling myself it was a coincidence. It was dark as stepped in.

"Well, friend of Brook, Welcome to the underworld." He pulled what turned out to be a black curtain aside and we stepped into the rabbit hole. The room was a forest, the walls painted different shades of green, the boxy but comfy looking chairs and sofa ranging from sage to jade. A coffee table shaped like a leaf hosted several élan martini glasses with spirals of emerald colour twisting through the glass.

A stunning girl with astonishing sea green hair was casually draped over the couch.

"Who's this poor creature you've dragged into our lot, Brook?" her voice was melodic and reminiscent of Ami.

"This is Serena, Michiru," Brook replied.

"Serena? What a lovely name," she said, sitting up.

"It's really Usagi, Topaz thought Serena fit me better," I risked in a low voice. Now I recalled seeing this girl with a tall blond man at the funeral. They had made a striking couple and I wanted to say I had seen the green haired girl somewhere before but I couldn't place her.

Michiru gracefully rose to her feet and lifted my chin. Her amazing hair waved about her face, and with a swallow I realized just how beautiful she was. Sea shifting eyes pierced through me.

"You miss her."

I nodded, unwilling to show how much my throat had tightened.

"It will ease with time, but you—you are that dancer whose been plagued by so much bad luck I've heard about."

I started.

"Yes, I attend Julliard, I play violin." She mistook my surprise. People at Julliard had been talking about me?

"I'd better take her into Haruka, huh?" Brook half sighed. Apprehensively, I glanced at the way we'd come in and froze. Jadeite was casually leaning against the wall with his arms crossed next to Brook and he was looking at me.

"I'll take your jacket," he said. Before I knew it I had handed it to him and was following Brook through a white door.

"Brook, good to see you," a breezy voice greeted. I tried to close my jaw; the guy I'd seen with Michiru, was a girl, a gorgeous girl in a tomboyish way.

"Haruka, Serena was at a club called Broken Glass when an Ancient under the Dark One's direction attacked," Brook said.

"The murder that was in the Times? Trust the force to leave out anything useful." She sighed and propped her feet on the desk.

"It gets worse, Serena here has been having stalker problems."

"Serena?" Her head snapped up and she stared at me with wintry eyes. Iciness diffused through me. "Come here," she murmured. Unthinking, I knelt before her chair. My mind had receded to some unknown region, leaving me an empty shell. Haruka shook her head and then reached forward two fingers to brush the center of my forehead.

Wind gusted against me, stripping away everything until I was nothing. Nothing but a soul. Then another lifetime came and went so quickly it left me only with the essence of darkest despair. Death, my anguished senses told me. Head too heavy with tears to hold upright, I slumped over Haruka's knees.

"Princess."

Soothing hands brushed through my hair and across my scalp. Torrid tears ran down my face and I did not understand why. There was only a horrid sense of death lodged next to my heart. When I couldn't cry anymore, my eyes felt like lead balls in their sockets.

"Brook, take her out to the lounge so she's comfortable and bring Michiru in."

I was gently lifted up and felt lips brush my forehead, but my dulled senses barely registered it, or what's more, who it was. The only thing I properly noticed was the jade couch swallowing me. For a long time it seemed, I lay blinking at the ceiling. Not really thinking, but letting my subconscious sort things out, since it obviously knew more than it was telling the rest of me.

"How did you get this jacket?"

Turning my head slightly I saw Jadeite, but didn't care.

"You really didn't think I wouldn't recognize my former liege lord's aurora, did you? Idiot! It will create a bond, a bond that will quickly get you killed!"

He lit a match and set it against it. I had neither the strength nor the mind to answer him. He was taunting me, but I did not know why, nor did I care; I wanted to sleep. Sleep to forget this pain that I did not understand.

When I woke sunshine was streaming through the windows. Gradually, I recognized the emerald room; diffused with sunlight the greens were peaceful. My ponytail had come undone and my hair was falling into my face. Sitting up, I gasped lightly in shock. It was longer than me and was pooling like molten gold about my ankles.

'Perhaps, that is why my head was so heavy?' A corner of my mind timidly ventured. I propped it up on my hand and recalled the previous night. Haruka had called me Princess, why? With the memory came a pang, but nothing else.

Deciding the only way to find out was to ask her, I tried to deal with my hair. Finding the tie I twisted it into a lose knot and the base of my neck, but there was too much of it. So instead I twisted the length of it around my head, coronet style, as many times as it would go before tucking in the ends. Catching sight of myself in the reflection of the window I made a face. At least it was out of my way, if messy. Something flashed on my forehead, but when I looked again I couldn't see anything.

Examining the empty room I notice another door. Cautiously I twisted the knob, lest it be an occupied bathroom. A quick glance attested a kitchen.

Michiru was in a deep emerald skirt and pale green plain top. The elegant blond figure I recognized again as Haruka stood behind with her arms wrapped around Michiru's waist and her head resting on her shoulder. Haruka was clad in all black, tight and tasteful.

I froze, thinking I'd uncouthly stumbled into something private. Then I noticed Brook and Jadeite eating brunch on mismatched barstools.

"Good morning, Princess," Haruka said softly, and Michiru echoed her.

Glancing at the two eating, they were undisturbed and hadn't seemed to notice me. My questions died in my throat. Had they really spoken, or was my mind running away with me?

"Come we'll take tea in the lounge," Michiru said take my elbow to guide me out of the room. Again I looked at Jadeite and Brook, but they didn't look up.

A tray rattled as Haruka entered the lounge and I inhaled the calming scent of green tea. Folding my hands around the cup she'd poured for me, I let the scent wash over my face and closed my eyes. They wouldn't disturb me until I opened them again, I knew not how I knew, but I did. Were they the missing Senshi? Then why were they calling me…princess?

"I'm not a princess. You must be mistaken, I am not a princess," I said firmly without opening my eyes. My heart pounded like I'd just ran the Boston Marathon and I could taste panic in my throat.

"As you wish," Haruka replied. I felt her touch my forehead again and warmth flow through me from the touch. Haruka settled back into a loveseat next to Michiru as I opened my eyes. Gingerly, I touched my forehead; it was feverish. Confused, I looked to the couple, Michiru smiled kindly, but Haruka was distant.

"Haruka, take this back to the kitchen," her arm swept over the white porcelain tea service, "I will take care of her, but let her finish her breakfast first."

For the first time I noticed the food sitting in front of me and how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten since, Kami, I couldn't remember! I made quick work of the waffles, fruit, and tea.

"Come, Serena, we must do something with your hair." Michiru smiled and held her hand out to me. I took it and felt comforted, just like a small child would be.

'But,' I thought, 'aren't we all small children? Underneath all the scars and calluses from life?'

In the corner of Haruka's office was another tiny stairway. Michiru lead me up it and into a hall adjoined to several bedrooms. Giving me an armful of fluffy towels and a robe she pointed out the bathroom and told me I could use anything I needed. It took nearly a bottle of shampoo to wash all my hair. It was so heavy when it was wet that I sat down in the tub and just let the water wash over me. Let it wash away the lingering pain, and grit of exhaustion.

Michiru brushed my hair out astonishingly quickly and gently. Carefully, she trimmed it back to knee length and twisted it up into odangos.

"How did you know I wear my hair like this?" I asked.

She only shrugged as she opened her closet door.

"Here, pick out anything you'd like to wear and you can change in there," she said. The closet was packed with everything from Channel dresses to thrift store shirts. The selection was overwhelming so I merely picked out a white skirt that draped nicely and dark blue tank top studded with sporadic white rhinestones. It looked like the night sky. A stitch tightened in my stomach as I remembered Jadeite burning Mamo—Darien's jacket so I took a jean jacket that almost smelled the same.

"We've a spare room for you to crash with us for the summer. Your training will be intense, so it will be easier to stay here. We own this place so there's no need to worry about rent or anything. Of course your dancing will continue through the summer, which we can work around. Are you taking any summer classes? Do you still have finals to take?"

"What training?" I demanded. Inside of me I could feel anger coiling; no matter where I went half the truth was kept from me.

"You have…unlimited power within you, but without training it is useless. You need to be able to protect yourself, and others. The most desperate battle for this earth is indeed coming," she whispered, "We need you."

For a moment I hesitated.

"As Senshi of the Moon it is my duty and privilege to protect the people of this earth until I find my Princess. I will do whatever I can."

A thousand things happened that summer. Michiru and Haruka revealed themselves as the Senshi of Neptune and Uranus respectively. They resolved to move the entire Argent crew to Tokyo to rejoin with Mina, Luna, and Artemis. I was overjoyed to be back in Tokyo.

Luna told me there were at least four other Senshi loose in Tokyo. This news set Michiru and Haruka on edge, though they refused to tell anyone why. Telling them about Ami was painful, but it was pushed away by the joy of discovering Makoto was the Senshi of Jupiter. She mysteriously showed up at our flight gate with all her stuff. Saying only she felt like a storm was coming and she was in the wrong place.

We trained to fight an enemy that would strike without warning and only once. There would only be one battle and we would win or lose.

Brook and the regular Argents evanesced into the background along with a fistful of others who came and went. They were all slayers, but had no more power than reading auroras. Their battlefield was the street; they could take out spies and that was more helpful than anything else they were capable of doing. Brook and I still talked, but it was about casual things. If a vampire broke through her mind shields, or any other slayers' for that matter, they'd have accesses to anything the slayer knew. My living with Haruka and Michiru would be suspicious enough as it was. Haruka said they probably already knew why I was here, but she'd rather them know nothing else. Jadeite disappeared less then a day after we moved in. Haruka and Michiru didn't seem to care. This didn't make sense since they were being so cautious about what the regular Argents knew. I was still unnerved that at least three of the Generals were alive.

The penthouse we lived in had a dance studio. I maintained my studies, hoping—though doubting—I would return to Julliard and Colombia in the fall. As the summer went on I found myself becoming less and less emotional. Withdrawn, frozen, and focused on training myself to face whatever it was that waited.

Although it all faded with the last storm of summer…