As Usagi spoke these words, the Eternal Moon Article opened. Inside, in the centre of a beautiful, symmetrical pattern of colourful shapes – among them feathers, wings and ribbons – was a star-shaped crystal. It began to glow a gorgeous, heavenly pink. The light from this crystal, the 'Maboroshi no Ginzuishou', the holy stone of her ancient kingdom, spread outwards, pulsing and resonating, until it bathed her entire body.
Her pyjamas shimmered like a mirage and then faded away, and she wore nothing but the light. Usagi closed her eyes as she felt the incredible power flowing through her. Power, not just from the Ginzuishou, but from all of her friends, too. It was only through them that she had been able to attain her ultimate, most powerful form.
Eternal Sailormoon.
On her forehead, beams of golden light began to converge, threading and knotting together until they formed the shape of a crescent moon. Usagi released her hold on the broach and it moved downwards of its own accord, to float before her chest. A pair of majestic, angelic wings unfurled from her back, their feathers thick and luxurious. Usagi threw her arms outwards.
As she did, new clothes appeared on her body: a white, seamless bodice with a navy blue sailor collar and pink, round shoulder protectors on her upper half, and white panties on her lower. The Eternal Moon Article was affixed to her bosom, framed by two sets of small white wings.
She extended her right arm and a typhoon of white feathers encircled it, quickly forming into a white glove that extended past her elbow. She held out her left arm and it was identically clothed.
Another flurry of feathers, and now she wore a miniskirt, pleated and triple-layered in yellow, red and blue. Two lengths of thin red ribbon trailed out behind it. Her feet were clad in white, knee-high boots.
On her head, her twin odango were fronted by red medallions. Her blonde hair was decorated with white pearls and feathers, arranged like two sets of wings on either side of her crown. Golden earrings, a star attached to a crescent moon, adorned her ears. Her neck wore a red choker with a golden heart and crescent moon motif.
The wings on her back suddenly shed their feathers, which vanished into thin air, and became part of her costume. They were joined by a second, smaller set of wings that were attached to the rear of her skirt.
Her transformation was complete. She assumed a triumphant pose, left leg raised off of the ground, right arm above her head. Her blonde ponytails, her wings and the ribbons on her skirt billowed out behind her, stirred by the evening breeze from outside the open doorway in which she stood.
She looked over at the Red Widow, who had watched her transformation with wide eyes and an open mouth, her face the very picture of confusion.
"Terrible woman!" she cried dramatically. "You use your good looks to seduce husbands against their will and destroy their marriages! Unforgivable! The crude divorce rate for last year was 1.60 per thousand people!" She cocked her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. "I wonder how many of those you caused?"
The Red Widow shook her head briskly, as if to free it from her confused stupor. An angry scowl returned to her face. "Who the hell are you!" she demanded to know.
"Sailor-suited pretty soldier of love and justice, Sailormoon!" came the booming reply. As she spoke she thrust her arms about in a well-practised series of movements. "In the name of the moon…" She moved her right arm so that she was pointing directly at the Widow, index finger extended. "I'll punish you!"
She turned her head to look at the well-dressed man standing a few feet away. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she said, "take Kazuo-san back to his cabin and find Tomoko-san. Keep them out of danger."
He nodded. "Tomoko-san…" he murmured, turning his head to look in the direction of the Red Widow. She glared back at him hatefully. "What shall I tell her?"
Sailormoon felt a sudden stab of empathy for the Iwamoto couple, briefly wondering if their marriage would be able to take the strain put upon it by the Widow. "Don't tell her anything yet," she replied. When this was all over with, they'd have to think about the best way to handle the situation. Now was not the time.
Tuxedo Kamen-sama nodded, and briskly crossed the room. Sailormoon kept her eyes trained closely on the Widow, who watched him intently but didn't make a move to stop him, all too aware that she was outnumbered. He picked up Kazuo-san's motionless form and slung him over his shoulder, and then made his way to the doorway. He stepped through, and turned his head back.
"Will you be okay, Sailormoon?" he asked. She nodded in reply, not turning to look at him. The masked man turned slightly, his concealed eyes meeting with those of the Red Widow. "Now you'll see what a true woman is," he said. He turned away again. "Sarabada."
With that, he disappeared into the night, taking Kazuo-san with him. Sailormoon was left alone with the Red Widow. Their unyielding gazes fixed together with an almost physical connection and a near-silence fell upon them, the only sound being that of the sea breeze.
"That man," said the Widow suddenly, ending their silent stalemate. "You love him."
"Yes," replied Sailormoon with a short nod. "I do."
"How long have you been with him?" asked the Widow. Sailormoon frowned, wary of answering. The Widow's face was blank and unreadable. "Well," she replied, thinking for a moment. She was about to reply a couple of years, as that was how much time had elapsed since the Dark Kingdom had been defeated and their subsequent relationship had begun. But then she thought of the distant past, of Prince Endymion and Princess Serenity, and smiled slightly.
"Since before I can remember," she answered.
The Widow nodded. "And does he treat you well?" she asked. Again, Sailormoon nodded. "Yes," she replied. "He…" The smile on her face deepened as she thought of all the wonderful things he did for her, all the wonderful times they had shared, all the wonderful things they had done together.
"He makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world," she told the Widow softly. "When we're together, I feel loved and secure and happy. I feel like there isn't anything I couldn't do."
The Widow nodded slowly, as if this were a particularly curious answer. "And do you believe he feels the same way about you?" was her next question.
"I know he does," replied Sailormoon. "He'd do anything for me. He'd do anything to make me happy."
The Widow stared at her solemnly for a moment, and then suddenly and inexplicably began to laugh. A long, hollow, empty sound devoid of delight. Sailormoon frowned and took a step towards her. "Why are you laughing?" she demanded.
The Widow wrestled her giggles, if they could be called as such, back under control. "I'm sorry," she said insincerely. "It's just that you really believe it! It's amazing, really, how similar it is. It gives me such a nostalgic feeling."
"Nostalgic?" asked Sailormoon. "What are you talking about?"
"You and I," responded the Widow. "We're the same."
"I am not the same as you!" cried Sailormoon, taking another step forward. The Widow held up a palm. "Don't get me wrong," she said. "We're not the same now. But you're the spitting image of how I used to be." She lowered her head, staring down at her feet as she continued, her voice more subdued. "A pretty little girl with dreams of a prince on a white stallion. So naïve." Her voice was twisted with bitterness, so much so that she practically spat the next words out. "So… gullible."
She looked back up, those powerful green eyes locking with Sailormoon's once more. Sailormoon fancied that she could see a slight shine to them, almost as if the woman were about to cry. But she didn't, and Sailormoon dismissed it as a trick of the light.
"It's like looking into a fun-house mirror," continued the Widow. "On the other side you see yourself, but warped and distorted. A parody of yourself."
"I refuse to believe," said Sailormoon, restrained anger in her voice, "that I could ever see someone like you in my reflection, no matter how warped the glass was!"
"Very well," replied the Widow. "I'll explain it to you. Perhaps then you won't be so quick to judge me."
Sailormoon nodded. Go ahead. She had always strongly opposed violence, only resorting to battle when there was no other alternative. If there was a way to somehow dissuade the Widow from hurting anybody else, then she would attempt it. It was her opinion that understanding brought people together. If people could understand one another, then they could begin to work together and find a peaceful solution to their problems. That way, nobody had to get hurt.
"I was the youngest of two sisters," began the Widow. "And, unfortunately, the lesser of the two."
"The lesser?" asked Sailormoon. "In whose eyes?"
"In everybody's eyes!" snapped the Widow, before regaining her composure and speaking calmly again. "My mother. My father. My sister herself." That bitter edge to her voice was growing stronger as she recalled them. "They all saw me as inferior. My sister was more beautiful, more intelligent. In their eyes, I would always be second best. They showered her with love, with praise and attention, with gifts. I was treated adequately, but no better."
Sailormoon felt a twinge of sadness for the woman stood before her. How awful must it be, to know that your parents loved your sister more than you? What kind of awful parents would be capable of such a thing? Her own parents loved both her and Shingo equally, without exception, and when Chibiusa had lived with them they had loved her like their own child too. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live in the shadow of a sibling, to be treated as inferior.
"So, I spent my childhood constantly trying to catch up with her," continued the Widow. "Our grades at school, our accomplishments in sports, even our social lives. The number of friends we had, and how 'good' they were. Everything was just a ground for competition. Even if I tried to do something of my own, something unique, my sister would try it too and she would always, always do it better than me. If I wrote a story, she would write one better. If I drew a picture, she would draw one better. I was never happy. I never felt secure or content. I cried myself to sleep most nights but they didn't care. In their eyes, it was just one more way that I was weaker than my sister."
She lowered her head and drew in a shaky breath, and now Sailormoon was sure that her eyes were coated with tears. But still, they did not fall. She continued on, this time not raising her head. Her voice was quieter, her words slower, the memories becoming more painful to relive.
"I was sixteen years old," she said. "The same age you are now, I imagine." Sailormoon nodded, as she was correct, but the Widow didn't see, her eyes still rooted to the carpet. "I was in high school, and… I met a boy."
She gulped down another lungful of air before continuing. "I was in the library one afternoon, fretting because I hadn't done my science homework. You see, sometimes I wouldn't do my homework. Sometimes I wouldn't do anything. It didn't seem worth trying. But I always regretted it and I'd find myself in the library the next day, desperately trying to complete it instead of eating my lunch."
Another gulp of air. "I couldn't get it done, it was too hard and I didn't have enough time, and I began to cry. I felt absolutely helpless, like nobody understood me and nobody cared. For a brief moment, I just wanted everything to go away. And then, a boy came over to me. He gave me a handkerchief and let me copy his homework, and he told me that he'd had a crush on me for years but he never knew how to tell me."
Sailormoon watched with dismay as thick, round teardrops began to fall from the Widow's downturned face and land with inaudible splashes on the carpet at her feet. "I fell in love with him immediately," she said, her voice quivering. "He was the only person who had ever cared about me for who I was, not scorned me for who I wasn't."
She looked up again, her eyes two shimmering pools. "All of the things you say he gives you, that Tuxedo Kamen. Love, security, happiness. That feeling, like you could do anything. He gave me all of those things. I dreamed of him every day and all through the night. About the two of us, about our wedding, and our beautiful children, and our bright future together."
She looked away, ashamed of the tears dribbling down her cheeks. "One day I felt sick so I got sent home from school. I went upstairs, to have a nap. I thought it'd make me feel better. I shared a room with my sister. My parents probably thought it would inspire me. So I pushed open the bedroom door and…"
A sob escaped her throat. She brought her hands up to her face and angrily wiped away the tears. A few long moments passed, the only sound her ragged, tearful breathing, before she continued.
"He was in there, with my sister. They were… they…"
She turned away and her sobs grew louder, drowning out her words. She covered her face with her hands and wept into them. An awful, strangled song of pain. Sailormoon watched her with tears of her own, her stomach a painful knot of sympathy. How terrible, to be betrayed by somebody you love. How must it feel? The few times when she herself had been separated from Mamochan had been almost intolerable. If she hadn't had her friends, she doubted she would have been able to endure the pain.
After a time, the Widow wrestled her anguish back under control and spoke again, her back still turned. "When my sister had discovered that I had something she didn't, she just had to take it from me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And just like in everything else, she was better than me."
"I'm so sorry," said Sailormoon honestly, her voice choked with tears.
"That wasn't the worst thing," the Widow said. "It wasn't just my sister. It was him, too. He didn't have a crush on me. He had a crush on my sister. But my sister was the most popular girl in school. She had a long line of suitors, more than I could count. He knew that, so he used me to get to her. He took advantage of me when I was at my lowest and then he willingly allowed himself to be stolen away."
Sailormoon reeled at this new revelation. It was one of the most awful things she had ever heard. It made her heart ache that such callous and uncaring people could exist in the world. A boy who would abuse a lonely girl's feelings to fulfil his petty desires. A sister who would intentionally hurt her own flesh and blood in such a profound and scarring way.
"They told me all that when I found them," said the Widow. "They told me that and then they laughed at me."
"Where are they now?" asked Sailormoon softly.
"They're dead," replied the Widow simply. "I killed them both."
Horror hit Sailormoon like a physical blow and she took a stumbling step backwards before steadying herself. The large white wings of her costume brushed against the doorframe behind her. "How… how could you do such a thing?" she asked with dismay.
"How!" replied the Widow angrily. She wheeled around to face Sailormoon, and her eyes were hard as glass beneath a mask a tears. "After what they did to me! After all the lies he told me! After how my sister made me feel, every day of my life! How!"
"But that's not an excuse!" cried Sailormoon, her eyes and her cheeks still damp with moisture. "There is NO excuse for such a terrible, terrible thing! Death is not a solution! It is NEVER a solution!"
"After what they did to me, I had no other choice!" yelled the Widow.
Sailormoon shook her head fiercely. "Of course you had a choice! I'm sorry for what happened, I truly am. I don't even want to think about how lonely and betrayed you must have felt. But you could have endured! It would have been hard, but you would have recovered, and you could have met somebody else, somebody who truly cared for you!"
"Whatever you say," said the Widow, "I did it. After that, there was no turning back. I left my life behind and I focused on nothing but revenge."
"Revenge!" cried Sailormoon. "But you had your revenge! You killed them!"
"Oh, but it wasn't enough. For a little while, I had been foolish enough to believe that they," – Sailormoon could tell from the bitter inflection that she meant men – "were the gentle, caring creatures that fairytale's portray them as. But I knew the truth now. My eyes had been torn open in the most painful of ways."
"So, what?" asked Sailormoon, no longer able to restrain her outrage. "You began to hurt people in the same way you had been hurt? You sought out happy couples and you tore them apart? Why? Because it made you feel better?"
"Quite simply, yes," replied the Widow. "Every broken heart I consumed eased my pain a little more. I wanted to make people suffer, the way I had suffered. I wanted them to see that there's no such thing as true love. It's all just an act, an illusion. People are terribly selfish. I am. You are. Your Tuxedo Kamen is. We use other people as long as its convenient and then we toss them aside."
"You're wrong!" retorted Sailormoon furiously. "Not all men are like that! Not all people are selfish!"
"Every person in my life was," replied the Widow coldly.
"Then I am truly sorry for you," said Sailormoon, blinking away the last of her tears. "But it's all just an excuse. You were hurt, so you think that gives you license to hurt others. That isn't fair, and it isn't right. Regardless of what you believe, I love Mamochan with all of my heart and he loves me. That isn't a fairytale illusion, it isn't a delusion that I've been tricked into. He has shown his love for me time and time again. I can feel his love flowing through me at this very moment, just as I can feel the love of my friends. What right do you have to take that away from me?"
"Be quiet!" shouted the Widow, finally turning around to face her, swiping her arm through the air as if trying to physically deflect her words. "I've heard enough from you! I don't want your sympathy, and I don't want to hear your naïve beliefs."
"You've been corrupted," said Sailormoon. "All the hatred, all the pain in your heart, it's warped you into a monster. How can you ever expect to move on? How can you ever expect to feel better, if all you do is hurt people? Until you deal with the source of all this, you'll never be free! You'll never be happy!"
"I am dealing with the source of all this!" yelled the Widow. "One bastard at a time!"
"Please!" cried Sailormoon, taking a few steps towards her, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "You have to let go of your anger! I promise you that, in time, you will begin to feel better. You can fall in love again."
"Ha!" scoffed the Widow. "And be hurt again? Be made to feel like nothing again?"
"Perhaps!" replied Sailormoon. "There are bad people in this world, just as there are good. But the good will always outnumber the bad, and the good will always triumph. Falling in love can be a dangerous thing. You're opening your heart and exposing your soul. Of course, you can be hurt. Some of my friends have been hurt by men too. But they remain hopeful for the future. They want to be happy. And they can be happy. There is someone out there for everybody, someone who completes you. I honestly believe that. And when you find that person, it's more wonderful than you could ever imagine."
She stepped forwards again, until she was standing only a few feet away from the Widow. She held out her hand. "Take my hand," she said softly. "I'll help you find him."
The Widow looked down at her outstretched hand. A length of time passed. Sailormoon was not sure of the duration. The Widow stared at her hand intently, her expression blank. Sailormoon dearly hoped that she took it. It wasn't a tactic to get the upper hand, nor was it a ploy to lower her defences. If the Widow took her hand, she would do everything in her power to help her.
Her breath caught in her throat as the Widow's hand moved upwards, stretching out towards hers. Her shaking fingertips brushed with Sailormoon's. The Widow's eyes met hers, and the ice in them had melted. Their deep green surfaces, wet and shiny, were pained and full of sorrow.
"Please," she said quietly, as fresh tears began to tumble down her cheeks. "Please help me."