A/N: Kon'wa! Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku is back! /laughs/ This is Arashi-chan, and she is completely high from too much sugar, as well as an uncommonly good night's sleep. She'd like to tell you that her Paladin of Serenity will be uploaded in a few days, and begs you to review A-J's Aika no Tsuki and Nimbirosa's Soul of Thunder, Heart of Flame. Arashi-chan is not yet tired of referring to herself in the third person, but she would like to be the first to thank Jikkan-chan firmly and loudly for being such the awesomest big-sister and cowriter.
Now that her customary plugging and gooey sentiments are over, she'd like to say that chapter is dedicated to EightofSwords, whom both Arashi and Jikkan adore, and the indescribably gorgeous review she left them! It had them smiling for hours, Swords-chan! As usual, the glossary for Jap-Eng words is at the bottom of the page, so go there if anything confuses you.
And now, Kakera ni Tsukiakari!
Kakera ni Tsukiakari
A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
I – Mishou ga Osoreru
To Fear the Unknown
'To be a Senshi must be a Senshi's first love, because duty comes before all else.'
– The Senshi Code, paragraph two, line four.
The black feline snarled viciously as she was backed into a corner, garnet eyes glinting. Her harassers all bore signs of her sharp claws, but this gave her little satisfaction, as it had not deterred them very much. When one of them picked her up, swearing as streaks of angry red blossomed on his hands and fingers, another approached with something white in his hands before all became blank fear and the instinct to run.
There were angry yells after that, a girl's voice. Snide-sounding retorts by her tormentors were issued, and then a pained yelp before a new, deeper voice roared something furiously. Then, the head of a young girl appeared in the cat's vision, pretty face furrowed in concentration. The feline felt the fur on her forehead tugged at gently before the two bandaids concealing her crescent moon insignia were gently removed.
With it uncovered, Luna began once more to comprehend the words and events happening about her.
"…how dare they hit a girl?" a tall, dark-haired young man was saying furiously as he pulled down the collar of the squirming girl's blouse to inspect several red marks marring the pale skin of his companion's shoulder. "Don't be so reckless next time, Tenshiko, this is going to bruise pretty badly –"
"No lasting damage, Mamo-chan!" she laughed airily before flinching as his fingers probed a particularly painful spot. "Itai! I'm fine; it'll go away soon –"
"Just don't run so far ahead next time, and don't duck into dark alleys to save cats at the cost of your own personal harm!" he snapped.
"As if you wouldn't do the same." 'Tenshiko' folded her arms and looked up at him reprovingly. "You're such a bloody hypocrite, Mamo-chan…"
'Mamo-chan' coloured slightly before exasperation entered his eyes. "That's beside the point!"
"Oh, I think it's very much the point –"
Luna sweatdropped as the two bickered good-naturedly. She'd thought they were lovers at first, the way deep affection resided in their gazes, not to mention the nicknames. 'Do all Terrans express love this way?' the black feline wondered. She would have thanked the girl and apologised for her getting hurt on Luna's account, but remembered with irritation that Terran felines did not speak. Settling for twining herself about the humans' legs, she purred briefly in thanks before bounding out of the alley.
Luna spared a thought for the powerful energy signatures both 'Tenshiko' and 'Mamo-chan' possessed, but shook her head. Although she would have loved to have someone so strong as a senshi, something told the black feline that the golden-haired girl was never meant to be one.
"She's probably given her heart away already," Luna concluded regretfully. There was a reason why girls destined to be senshi in the Silver Millennium had been trained from a young age. The older they were, the more likely the attachment to something they would have to give up.
Putting her rescuers out of her mind, Luna turned her mind to other matters. 'Now, how shall I go about this?'
Motoki looked up and grinned cheerfully as his two favourite customers entered the arcade, Usagi stomping along childishly and Mamoru's eyes turned skywards as if requesting patience. As they neared the counter, the blond was able to pick up bits and pieces of their hissed conversation.
"… swear… hunt down …saw… grabbed you –" Mamoru was saying, his expression darkening.
"…worry too much … everything under control…" Usagi's face was set stubbornly, and Mamoru rounded on her.
"…didn't look that way… those bruises… hurt…" Motoki blinked in alarm and leaned forwards. Just who had to guts to attack Usagi within ten thousand miles of Mamoru, who was famous for his almost obsessive desire to shield his best friend from any kind of harm?
"…baka… fine… without help…" Mamoru looked about to argue that point when Motoki interrupted their spat.
"Kon'wa," the arcade manager sang as he pasted on his biggest smile in spite of knowing that it would irritate the two further considering the mood they were in. "The usual, Usagi-chan, Mamoru-kun?" He'd get all the details out of them later, he knew. They always came to complain to him whenever the other was being a little argumentive, and often moped about his place whenever they got into the tiniest of fights.
"Hai," Usagi responded belatedly as she broke the staring match with her best friend to look at Motoki. Mamoru grinned, taking an almost childish delight at Usagi looking away first. The sixteen-year-old blonde looked mock-scathingly at her dark-haired companion before placing her usual order. "The usual sundae, please, and Mamoru's paying for it."
"Nani?" the grin was wiped right off the dark-haired senior's face, almost immediately replaced with a scowl. "Tenshiko –" he complained.
"Mamo-chan," she mimicked his whine.
"Tenshiko…"
"Mamo-chan…"
"Tenshiko…"
"Mamo-chan…"
"Tensh – ack, I give!" Mamoru grumbled. "Black coffee –"
"As usual," Motoki finished, turning to fix both their orders. Usagi hopped off her stool and hugged Mamoru from behind, eyes adoring.
"I'll pay you back later," she promised.
Mamoru shook his head and smiled at the arms knotted around his waist from behind. "Iie, it's only a sundae. Keep your money – remember why we came here in the first place? There's a Sailor V game out, ne? I'll call you back for your ice cream when you're done."
Her eyes lit up and she bounced off to the token dispenser. Mamoru chuckled softly and pulled out his advanced Biology text, accepting the cup of unsweetened coffee Motoki slid over to him with a murmur of thanks.
Such is a day in the life, Motoki reflected with a grin, drizzling hot chocolate syrup over Usagi's sundae and covering it with a tad more chocolate sprinkles than the other customers got. Hey, he was the arcade manager and his Da was the owner; what was the fun in running this place if you couldn't favour a couple of the customers?
Usagi had just finished feeding the dispenser and was settling down to give the V game its first taste of the Wrath of Tenshiko when Osaka Naru found her. "Mou, I should've known I'd find you here," the slightly-taller redhead said with a good-natured pout. "Did you forget our shopping date today?"
The blonde put her hand over her mouth. "Aa! Gomen ne, Naru-chan! I was on my way to meet you, but then I ran into Mamo-chan and —"
"— promptly forgot all about your best girl friend, as always," Naru said knowingly. "Honestly, Usagi! Just date the boy and put every woman in Juuban out of her misery."
Usagi rolled her eyes. "There you go again! What is it with you and teasing me about Mamo-chan? You know we're not like that…"
"Hai, hai," her friend retorted, rolling her eyes right back. "Don't listen to the girl who's known you since second grade — of course she doesn't know anything."
"I'll listen to you when you start talking sense," Usagi grumbled, and reached for her purse to put the tokens away. "Oh no!"
"What is it?"
Usagi looked up from her purse to give her an embarrassed look. "I didn't put my allowance in here and I just spent the leftover from last month on tokens!"
Naru shook her head, but smiled. "Mou, Usagi, aren't you forgetting? This is to pay you back for helping me when I was all outturned pockets and light purses last week! Now come on, Mama's got a super sale on — and if I'm going to buy you anything, I want the advantage of a family discount," she teased.
"You're gonna need it," her friend said, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Hold on a sec — I need to go tell Mamo-chan I'm off to spend you blind."
Usagi skipped over to the counter and hopped onto a neighbouring stool. "You're going to laugh at me," she warned her very best friend in all the world.
"And why would I do that?" Mamoru wondered, marking his place and setting the book aside — but his eyes were already twinkling. "I was just about to call you over; your sundae's ready."
"Eat it so it won't go to waste, Mamo-chan," she said, taking the sundae from Motoki with a grateful smile and pushing it into the dark-haired eighteen-year-old's hands.
He blinked. "Tenshiko, you've never refused chocolate in your life. Are you sick?" He bent to feel her forehead, but she laughed, ducking away from his hand.
"Iie, iie! I just forgot that today I was supposed to go shopping with Naru-chan."
"So now I have to clean up your mess because you forgot a promise?" He attempted to look put-upon. "The things I do for you, Tenshiko."
"Oh yes, you poor thing, you have to eat my ice-cream. Truly heaven must weep for you," she grinned up at him.
"It always starts easy," he contested. "First it's 'eat my ice-cream, Mamo-chan!' But I know you — then it'll be 'clean my room, Mamo-chan!' 'Hide this body, Mamo-chan!' 'Wrestle this bear, Mamo-chan!'"
"If you're quite finished with your little lover's spat?" Naru inquired archly, trying and failing to hold back the grin.
"Hai, hai, coming," Usagi nodded, breathless with laughter. "I'll see you later, Mamo-chan — I promise I'll try not to upset any bears."
"See that you do," he nodded back, face almost perfectly serious. "Kiotsukete, Tenshiko."
"You too, Mamo-chan," she called over her shoulder as Naru took her by the wrist and began to pull her out of the building. Ja ne, Motoki-san, Unazuki-chan! Bai bai!"
"…You didn't have to drag, Naru-chan," Usagi observed, pulling her wrist out of Naru's grasp as they walked down the block to the OSA-P. "Just because I was being polite —"
"Hai, you were supposed to be being polite, not making a goodbye for the ages. C'mon, Usagi! Mama's store is a madhouse, and if you're slow, we'll miss the good stuff!"
"Really? That full? I thought your mother never had sales?"
"Generally not, but today she just started running around and putting up signs.. I hope the crowd of buyers makes up for the profit loss — gah!"
Usagi hurried up behind her. "Ne? What is it, Naru-chan…? Kami! Is it even safe for that many people to be in one building?"
"No, probably not," Naru grinned over her shoulder. "But at least we'll get a better family discount this way!" They ploughed into the store.
For as long as Usagi had known Naru, the OSA-P had been a calm, quiet place; a retreat of quiet elegance and gentility that had always seemed to be at a remove from the normal hustle-bustle energy of Juuban.
She barely recognised it now.
Gaudy orange and purple signs were everywhere, blocking out the windows and obscuring the tasteful prints; what seemed like a hundred women crowded around every display, their pushing, shoving, shrieking and gossiping drowning out the carefully-chosen classical music —
— and calm, poised Osaka Hariko, the most composed and elegant woman Usagi had ever met, was leaping about with a megaphone, her hair falling out of its careful coif, exhorting the crowd to new madness.
"Today only, ladies! OSA-P's special blowout! Thirty, forty, fifty percent off on selected earrings! Sixty percent off on all necklaces! Seventy percent off on diamond rings! Make your claims while you can, ladies, because soon it'll be all over!"
"Seventy?" Naru hissed into Usagi's ear. "Even if she sold every jewel and setting in the store we wouldn't make a profit at that rate! These are clearance prices — but she'd have told me if she were closing the store —"
Usagi opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she might have said was doomed to be lost forever as she and Naru found their shoulders caught in a bruising grip.
"Hello, girls!" Hariko-san smiled brilliantly, not seeming to notice their expressions of pain. "I see you brought your little friend with you, Naru-chan — you're such a considerate daughter, bringing customers to our door." The gleaming regard turned to Usagi, who swallowed hard and wished frantically that she were back at the arcade, peacefully splitting that sundae with Mamo-chan. "Usagi-chan, isn't it? How nice to see you, you're always so full of … energy."
"K — konnichiwa, Osaka-san," she said softly.
Hariko kept beaming. "Now you girls go off and pick out something nice — I particularly recommend the tennis bracelets! Sixty percent off for the lucky ones!" She released the girls and started cheerleading again, just as if she had never been interrupted.
"Itai," Usagi hissed, gently rubbing a shoulder with a rueful expression on her face. 'Did she have to get the already bruised one? Mamo-chan's going to throw a fit, and he really can't afford to get in trouble for threatening an adult…'
"Gomen ne, Usagi," Naru said worriedly, rubbing her own shoulder. "She's never acted like this before, I don't understand…"
"Ne, it's okay," her blonde friend said, shaking her head. "It's not your fault what your mom might do. Let's do what we came for instead of worrying about it, ne? I need a new watch."
"I guess so," the younger Osaka agreed reluctantly, and they wormed their way through the crowd toward the display.
Naru had her by the wrist again, and Usagi followed dutifully, but somehow her heart wasn't in it; she was preoccupied by a little voice screaming in her head. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and someone needed to realise, needed to fix it before —
Someone screamed.
"Yuriko! Yuriko, what's wrong, get up! Why won't she get up?"
More screams followed, and then a girl near them collapsed —
— and then a rotund fifty-something woman in a too-tight red dress —
— and then a young mother, her baby in its carrier squalling fearfully for a moment before going suddenly silent —
— and more, and more, and more, until the floor was covered in bodies.
"Well," said Osaka-san in a voice not her own. "I would never have expected it to come to a crescendo so quickly. …How marvellous."
Naru's voice was a croak. "M-Mama…?"
No, Usagi wanted to hiss, don't speak, don't draw attention to us, but it was already too late. The woman had turned toward them.
Her face was a dark, twisted caricature of Hariko-san's, as if someone had starved her and twisted her and possibly even set her on fire. It smiled a terrible smile.
"Oh," said the person who was not Osaka-san. "Guests."
The grin widened. Its teeth were very, very sharp. "So sad that you missed the party. But don't worry, girls —" it flicked its wrists, and Hariko-san's careful manicure was replaced by foot-long claws. "— I'm sure we can find room for you."
'We're going to die,' Usagi realised detachedly, as if her body was present but theUsagi that lived behind her eyes was somewhere very far away, watching as the monster advanced, slowly. 'Naru-chan and I are going to be killed by something living in Osaka-san's body.'
She should be scared.
She was quite sure she should be scared, but, somehow… All she could manage was a terrible sadness.
'Mamo-chan…'
The thought seemed to galvanise her; her body snapped taut, eyes hard, and grabbed Naru by the arm, shoving her towards the door.
"Usagi, what —"
"Get help!" her body was yelling. "The police, a priest, Mamo-chan — somebody! Anybody!"
She thrust Naru out with one hand, already fumbling with the lock with the other. The monster was hissing something, and Usagi's movements became even more desperate.
"But I can't leave you —"
"Go!" that other Usagi ordered harshly. "Now!"
The door slammed, the lock made a decisive click as she turned it, and the last she knew was a great light —
And then, nothing.
It came on him suddenly and the spoon he was holding clattered to the counter, ice cream and chocolate dripping everywhere.
"Mamoru-kun?"
His head was buzzing faintly, and everything was numb and he couldn't feel anything save his steady, accelerating heartbeat as well as another's, almost frenzied in its pace.
"Mamoru-kun!" Someone was calling his name, but he ignored them, ignored all but the sudden, almost vicious pull that caused him to stumble clumsily out into glaring sunlight and into a nearby alley. The tug was fiercer now, and suddenly he couldn't distinguish his pulse from the foreign one, both hearts beating in sync as a muted golden light emanated from his hunched form.
A strangely familiar rose materialised in front of him, petals sparking gold and silver as thorns that had not been present for ten years sprouted but that couldn't be right because roses were roses were roses were roses…
Armour encased his tall form, a sword at his hip and a black cape lined with red pinned at his shoulders.
Suddenly, it melted into a tuxedo, a white domino mask concealing his glazed eyes even as he felt the weight of some kind of hat against his hair.
The tuxedo hardened into black plate armour once more, before softening back into crisp black cloth and then back to the armour as the rose spun faster and faster and faster and he cried out in agony as War and Stealth clashed and battled in his mind – "Tenshiko!"
Tuxedo.
Armour.
Tuxedo.
Armour.
Protect her.
Tuxedo.
Gloved fingers snatched the rose from the air –
Tuxedo.
Protect her with your life. Kill for her. Die for her.
Tuxedo…
And then he was bounding across rooftops, the dual pulse beating crazily in his ears as he followed the sound of the heartbeat. He didn't know who, why or what he was, but an exhilarated shout and the ethereal scent of roses haunted the rooftops as Tuxedo Kamen passed by.
She reached up with gloved hands and felt her face, the eerily-familiar yet foreign tiara, the half-mask that hid her eyes.
Sailormoon smiled, and there was a fierce, untamed element to it. She turned to the monster, which looked a little confused. 'Youma,' her mind whispered. 'It's called a youma.'
"And who might you be?" it inquired, perhaps a little amusedly. Its claws grew another two inches or so, and Sailormoon fell into a comfortable fighting stance.
"Ai to seigi no, seerafuku bishojou senshi! Sailormoon!" she informed it, removing her tiara from her forehead and making a slashing motion. It promptly reshaped itself into a slender, golden tachi-style sword with the red gem as its pommelstone. Swinging the sword a few times to get the heft of it, Sailormoon flashed a grin at the youma, who looked a little confused.
Regaining its composure, the youma sneered. "Oh? Well I'm Iibarujueru and I've never heard of you before." She brandished her claws again and snarled at the mounds of unconscious people littering the floors. "Up, you fools! You've given your energy to the Dark Kingdom, now you'll give your strength to fight for us! Get her!"
'Oh, I don't think so,' Sailormoon thought viciously. Half-remembered lessons on combat strategy came to her mind. The number one rule was Finish it, and Finish it quickly. The sword in her hand began to glow faintly as she fed her energy into it, powering it up. That was when the first zombies began to rise and she sped up the process, sweat beading her brow as white light blazed from her small form and into her weapon.
Iibarujueru attacked as Sailormoon kicked two zombies away from her, firing all five of the fourteen-inch fingernails on her right hand at the labouring senshi. Sailormoon prepared to leap out of the way, but four blurs of crimson countered four claws and a gloved hand actually snatched the last one out of the air before its owner whisked Sailormoon into their arms and made a great leap, landing not two yards away from the youma. "Ima da, Sailormoon!" the voice was male, a deep tenor.
Sailormoon didn't waste any time powering up her sword to its full attack and before Iibarujueru could fire off the remaining five nails, a rose pierced her shoulder, and another her eye. That was all the distraction Sailormoon needed, and as the youma shrieked in mingled pain and fury, the moon senshi took two big steps forward and swung the sword with all her might.
"Moon Tiara Action!" she roared, the tiara-sword cleaving Iibarujueru cleanly in half, the two pieces of her body disintegrating into greyish dust before they hit the floor.
Sailormoon stood there, chest heaving with the exertion that charging her attack had taken. Using the tiara in its range-weapon form – a discus – could have resulted in it being knocked out of the air or countered by one of the zombies. The sword took less energy, though more time to empower, and had a higher accuracy rate to boot.
Remembering her rescuer, she whirled around, sword still in hand, to gaze up into a face partially concealed by a white domino mask just like her own. They gazed at each other in silence for a long moment until groans filled the room: the reenergised victims returning to normal.
When the police broke down the door, followed by a completely hysterical Osaka Naru, about twenty people of varying ages were waking as if from a deep sleep, deeply confused and disoriented. Those outside, however, caught sight of two silhouettes against the noon sky leaping from rooftop to rooftop, but all they could make out was that one was a male wearing a cape that fluttered behind him as he ran, and the other was female with twin pigtails streaming from two round buns on her head.
Sailormoon alighted easily upon one of the gaudily painted support beams of a curiously-elegant tower and turned to regard her darkly-clad… ally? Companion? She didn't know, any more than she knew why someone had built a graceful structure out of wrought iron and painted it in stripes of white and candy-red.
…No.
She did know.
Somewhere deep in her soul told her that she could trust him.
Too bad that same part of her soul couldn't tell her his name.
He landed noiselessly beside her, and she took a moment to really properly look at him, in a way she hadn't had time to when they were avoiding questions or in the middle of battle.
'So lovely,' she thought wistfully. Trim hips, broad shoulders, long legs, and all of it wrapped in a dapper tuxedo tailored to almost painful perfection — and the cape and mask? Very dashing.
'Shame about the hat, though…'
He took it off, as if hearing her, and saluted her with it, giving her an excellent view of delightfully untidy black hair. "An excellent show, my lady."
"I was hardly the only one in it," she said, giving him a dancer's curtsey. "Might I have the honour of my fellow-performer's name?"
"When the possibility it might someday fall from your lips is the greatest honour it could dream of, what can I do but comply? I am known as Tuxedo Kamen." He bowed over her hand, raising it to his lips. "Your servant, my lady."
"And my ally, I hope?" she returned, smiling up at him. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Tuxedo Kamen. I am —"
"'Love and Justice's beautiful sailor-suited soldier, Sailormoon', if memory serves?" he returned the grin.
"Just so," she said softly, wishing she could see the eyes behind the mask; eyes she was somehow sure would be as beautiful as the rest of him. "Will I see you again?"
He released her hand, at last returning the top hat to its place atop his head. "As often as you walk the night — or the noonday," he amended with a wry grin, "so will you find your cavalier."
"Then I would almost welcome another youma," Sailormoon admitted softly, "for the sake of the prospect."
"As kind as she is beautiful — the Moon has chosen her guardian well."
She felt herself turning pink. "The gentleman is too gallant," she murmured.
"The gentleman has eyes, my lady. But here I fear I must leave you — this place is beautiful indeed, but a lovely scene will always have throngs to view it."
"And I have my own duties," she said softly. "Be well, good sir, until we meet again."
He made her another bow and leapt from the beam, his cape flapping in the wind. "Sarabada!"
She watched for a moment as he landed on a nearby roof and bounded onward.
"Farewell, masked man," she murmured, and went her own way. There was someplace she had to be. She'd know it when she got there….
Dark blue eyes opened languorously to be presented with the sight of an off-white ceiling, and Mamoru stretched out his tall frame before freezing mid-yawn. His gaze flitted about the immaculate living room, noting that the glass doors leading to his balcony were open and the curtains billowing in the afternoon breeze. Sitting up sharply, he rubbed a hand over his face, noting that there were no carpet-imprints, which meant that he hadn't been lying on the floor for too long.
A sudden rush of fear coursed through him; fear of the unknown. He had been in the Crown Arcade, obediently consuming the sundae that his Tenshiko had made him promise not to waste. Then he had… dropped the spoon? He remembered a tingly yet numb sort of feeling, and after that – nothing.
Everything was hazy, and his muscles were sore. Going on impulse, he ran to the door and checked the locks; they were untouched, and he was still wearing his shoes. He always took off his shoes in the entryway – before tiled floor met the carpeted area – so as not to damage or dirty the cream-coloured affair.
"Kami-sama," he breathed, legs feeling weak as he set his shoes aside and stumbled back into the living area. "What happened?"
The only logical explanation for what had happened was that he had… it couldn't be. He turned disbelieving eyes towards the balcony doors and jogged through them, leaning against the iron-wrought railings to peer over them. He was ten stories up – there was no way he could have –
– But all the evidence pointed towards it.
Somehow, Mamoru had climbed ten stories up the side of a building and slipped through the unlocked balcony doors before collapsing in his living room.
The only other explanation was that Motoki'd decided to play a joke on him and had set the entire thing up to screw with Mamoru's mind.
"Iie, he wouldn't do that," Mamoru muttered. "He never leaves the arcade unless he takes breaks, for one thing, and even his breaks aren't that long. Even though he and Tenshiko are the only others that have the keys to my apartment –"
Mamoru padded back inside, eyes blank as he tried to make sense of the situation and failed. Desperately, he picked up the phone and rang Motoki's cell.
"Moshi mo –" Motoki's voice began.
Mamoru cut him off with an exclaimed "Motoki-kun!"
"Mamoru-kun, is that you? Kuso, I'm such a baka, of course it's you –"
"Motoki-kun," Mamoru said loudly, "do you know when I left the arcade?" A heavy silence descended on the other side of the line. "Motoki?"
"You – you don't remember?" Motoki's tone was disbelieving. Mamoru resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall.
"No, I'm asking you to waste my time and yours!" was the terse, sarcastic response.
"Kuso, you don't have to be so anal about it. Anou… you were eating Usagi-chan's sundae and then you stopped and acted all weird before leaving. I tried calling after you, and told Unazuki to watch the place for a moment so I could find out what was wrong, but then you just – I couldn't find you!"
Mamoru didn't hear anything after that, midnight eyes glazing over. "What's going on?" he asked himself shakily.
"Mamoru-kun, did you say something?" Motoki's voice was worried.
"Iie, Motoki-kun, I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Nani? Mamor –" Mamoru hung up abruptly, sagging against the wall.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
"Are you absolutely sure you haven't found her?" Naru begged the officer in charge of the scene.
He shook his head. "For the last time, Osaka-san, everyone present at the scene has been checked over. We combed the basement, the upstairs apartment, and the back storage room where we found your mother, and there was no sign of anyone else; none of the victims of this even has blonde hair." Naru fought back a sob, and he patted her shoulder. "If she hasn't appeared in twenty-four hours, then we'll worry if she's missing, all right? Why don't you call her home? Maybe she escaped before we got here."
"But the door was locked and the back door was blocked by Mama's body! Usagi would never have left her helpless like that — or anyone else, either!"
He patted her shoulder again, already paying more attention to one of his fellows. Naru didn't think he had even been listening. "Maa, maa, Osaka-san, I'm sure it'll be fine. Go get some rest, ne? Now, Fushida, you were saying about fingerprints…?"
She resisted the urge to throw something at his head. Didn't anyone care? Usagi had saved her life by throwing her out of the store — why did no-one seem to realise that when her best friend had done that, she had locked herself in with that — that — thing that had called itself Naru's own mother?
It had been twenty minutes before the police could be mobilised — anything could have happened in twenty minutes! What had happened to Usagi? Had she fought it? Was she hurt? For that matter — where was she?
'And what is Mamoru-san going to do to me when he finds out I left her alone with a monster?'
Mamoru. Oh Kami, Mamoru. Someone was going to have to tell him that Usagi was missing. 'And her mother. Don't forget her parents.'
Somehow Mrs. Tsukino seemed the far easier prospect.
Mamoru was probably still at the arcade; he'd had a textbook with him, and Usagi was always playfully grumping about how he was during study-time.
And the phone was right here…
Naru took a deep breath and went upstairs. She'd call Tsukino-san, and if anything was left of her then it would dutifully scrape itself up, drag itself down to the arcade, prostrate itself before Chiba Mamoru, and hope for mercy.
The odds of which were depressingly slim.
Microscopic, even.
…Wonderful, she'd even developed a sense of gallows humour. Humming the funeral march and sparing a thought for just heading straight to her room and crawling under the covers for a hundred years, she went into the kitchen and sat before the phone.
'Just pick it up, Osaka,' she thought with annoyance. 'At least you get to do this one by remote.'
She picked it up and dialled.
Ring…. Ring… Click. "Hai, moshi moshi, Tsukino desu," Tsukino Ikuko said cheerfully.
"M… moshi moshi, Tsukino-san. This is Osaka Naru —"
"Aa, Naru-chan!" Ikuko-san interrupted. "You must want Usagi-chan! Hold on just a moment —"The sound became muffled. Ikuko-san must have put her hand over the receiver. "Usagi-chan! It's Naru on the phone!"
Naru blinked. Usagi? Coming to get the phone? But wasn't she —
Usagi's mother was back on the line. "I hope you'll be able to help her, dear, she's been acting strangely since she came home."
'Since she came home?' "H-hai —"
Tsukino-san didn't seem to be listening. Adults never did. "I still don't know how she snuck in, though. I was cleaning the hallway and then she was coming down the stairs — ah, here she is now."
"Arigatou, mama, I'll take this up to my room," said Usagi's voice. There was a noise as of feet on the stairs, then a click, and then, silence.
Naru waited, knuckles white. What was going on?
Usagi's voice came over the line, soft and timid. "N-Naru-chan?"
"Usagi!" Naru blurted, unable to help herself. "Is it you? Are you alright? Where were you? The police had to break in and then you weren't there and I was so worried and I was scared to death I'd have to tell Mamoru —"
"…you don't know…?"
"'I don't know?' Of course I don't know, the last I saw you were locking me out of my own home and yourself in with a monster! How did you get home without the police or your mother having the faintest clue you were even there?"
"I don't know!" Usagi wailed. "The last thing I remember is thinking we were going to die and locking the door and then —" she broke off.
"Well?" Naru asked, a little more gently. Usagi seemed even more traumatised than she was.
"— and then I woke up," Usagi said softly.
Silence. Naru stared at the flower arrangement on the kitchen table. 'It needs dusting,' she thought irrelevantly. "…you woke up," she repeated after a moment.
"Hai," came the quiet reply. "Sprawled across my bed, with the covers made, as if… as if I'd collapsed onto it from the window."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" snapped Usagi, voice brittle. "I don't know why I didn't just use the front door — Mama was home — but I know it, because I used to climb that tree all the time when I sneaked out from being grounded!"
"Maybe you hit your head when you fell in? Short-term amnesia and all that…"
"I thought that too, but my head is fine. No bumps, no nothing!" Usagi's voice hitched and her next words came out as a sob. "Oh, Naru-chan, what's wrong with me?"
Naru closed her eyes, hating herself more and more as her best friend's, her sister in all but blood, distress sank into her confused mind. "I don't know, Usagi-chan," she whispered. "I don't know."
Glossary:
itai — an exclamation. Equivalent to 'ouch' or 'ow'.
gomen ne — a semi-formal apology; 'I'm sorry' as compared to 'sorry'.
Kami-sama, Kami — 'God'. Used in North American nomenclature as a Japanese equivalent to US usage, 'God!' or 'Good Lord!'
sarabada — 'farewell'. Seems to be Tuxedo Kamen's favourite word, in first season anime.
kuso — colloquial; 'feces'; 'excrement'; 'shit'; 'bullshit'.
baka — 'fool, idiot'; more insulting in Japanese because of the importance of 'face'.
anou — an interjection; rather like 'say'; 'well'; 'er'.
maa, maa — an interjection something like 'now, now…'. Usually used as an equivalent to 'settle down'.
moshi moshi — hello (but strictly for the phone)
arigatou — semiformal; 'thank you.'