A/N/Jikkan-chan comes onstage clad in sackcloth and ashes and goes to hands and knees before the audience./ Gomengomengomennasai—The horrible lateness of this chapter and the almost-hiatus of Aika no Tsuki is most regrettable, and Jikkan-chan takes full responsibility! In reparation, she will commit honourable seppuku—/pulls out dull spoon/
/Arashi-chan takes the spoon away and whaps Jikkan on the head with it./ Stop that.
/Jikkan-chan rubs her head and glares at Arashi's retreating back./ Well excuse Jikkan-chan for getting into the spirit of things…. /sigh/ Seriously, folks, we are really sorry about this all. Togewonuku Act II was actually all but half a page finished within a week of Act I—and has been ever since. Jikkan-chan would blame herself, but Arashi-chan would hit her with the spoon again—fortunately, she brought backups/Produces a silver candlestick/ BAD JIKKAN-CHAN! NO BISCUIT/WHAM/
/Arashi-chan wanders in again, takes the candlestick away, and goes off to badminton class/
Whooo….. colours… /shakes herself/ Where was Jikkan-chan? O yes. Aika no Tsuki. Nobody's really to blame there, in particular; honestly, our font of inspiration for it has run away—Jikkan-chan suspects to help Eight of Swords-chan with her homework. We miss it sorely, and pray it will come home again soon.
This chapter is dedicated to GoddessMoon, who's just cool like that. So there.
Togewonuku
A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
II – Selene no Fukutsu
Selene's Fortitude
She bounded from rooftop to rooftop all swiftness and grace, though inside her heart pounded in fear and worry gnawed ceaselessly. "Mamo-chan goes to Moto Azabu, Luna," Sailormoon murmured as she landed hard on concrete before bending her knees and springing towards the next building. "What if…"
"I understand your concern, Sailormoon," Luna answered gently, "but I am sure they evacuated the area…"
Sailormoon shook her head and retrieved her communicator. "Did you contact the others?"
The cat nodded curtly, eyes gazing ahead. "Hai – demo, they did not answer. Ami should have gotten the alert via the Mercury computer, however."
"Looks like I'm on my own for now," Sailormoon said lightly, trying to suppress the up swell of panic that the thought caused. 'I can do this – I've done it before, many times, before even Ami – Mercury-chan – came…' courage returned, and she thought once again of her Mamoru's love; warmth settled about her like a comfortable, well-worn robe. 'Familiar… Mamo-chan…'
Luna glanced at her charge's face, and felt her heart swell with pride at the determined set of Sailormoon's shoulders as her golden ponytails whipped about them. 'She has always had the purest and most beautiful heart of all,' the black feline reflected with a sad smile before her gasp echoed Sailormoon's.
"What is that?" Sailormoon whisper-yelled, stopping abruptly. She began to circle the monster, taking refuge in the trees bordering the courtyard. She would not stand a chance against the behemoth that towered almost ten feet above her. "How the heck am I supposed to fight it?" she moaned quietly, and she breathed faster as her panic escalated.
It looked to be made of iron and flesh and darkness; metal blended into black skin and bone that glowed an iridescent grey-black in the morning sun. Claw-like fingers flexed and from viciously long teeth hung a long rope of viscous yellow-tinged liquid.
"Ewww, it drools!" Sailormoon observed in a disgusted whisper, setting Luna down. Blue and red gazes noted that the youma, though obviously formidable in strength, had several areas its metal armour left unprotected.
"Speed," Luna muttered and Sailormoon nodded shortly. Assessing an enemy's weakness was hardly her specialty, but even she could see how a fast attacker might take full advantage of the more vulnerable spots on the youma's body.
"I just have to move before those claws turn me into Senshi-kabob," Sailormoon attempted to joke, but her levity could not conceal the dismay in her eyes. The youma didn't seem to be moving much – it was simply standing there, not doing anything, but that could change any moment… "I don't have anything that might hurt it remotely – my tiara, perhaps. The Moon stick wouldn't help me at all –"
"'Moon healing escalation'?" Luna suggested quietly.
"I'm pretty sure that's not a nijizuishou carrier, Luna-chan," Sailormoon sighed, rubbing gloved hands over her eyes. "Gomen ne for being –"
"Iie, iie, I see your point," the cat let out a low growl of frustration. "We've never tested that attack against a non-carrier before, and it takes too much time to power up. If we had a distraction –"
"Tuxedo Kamen's fast," Sailormoon pointed out. "If he distracted it…"
"Even if we knew whether or not he is the enemy, we can't rely on him all the time," Luna countered, fort the first time feeling true regret that the masked man might not be an ally. "He's already proven he has his own – it's moving!"
Sailormoon balled her hands into fists and gnawed at her lip worriedly before she could take it no longer. Why was she still hiding? There was no one but she… everything was topsy-turvy; wasn't she supposed to be the useless one, 'Little Miss One-Shot Wonder' who had to be dug out of hiding?
Rei's voice cut through her mind. '"At least we can all say you live up to your name, Usagi —"'
Everything had always been topsy-turvy; she jumped out and made speeches and then went to ground — but a cornered rabbit will fight, surprising foes with its ferocity.
Surprise.
"No speeches," she said with a hysterical giggle, before she removed her tiara and powered it up so that it glowed brightly as a small sun –
Slash!
Slash!
Slash!
Sailormoon bounded out of reach of the lumbering limbs, and allowed herself a tiny smile even as a roar of pain and fury rent the air.
This youma was slow.
Perhaps she'd survive this, after all.
She continued in this vein awhile, striking and retreating, again and again so that the youma was kept confused and enraged. However, she had not escaped unscathed – its black blood was like acid, and there were raw burns where she had not been quick enough.
Sailormoon leapt again, tiara blazing white-hot… and then her arm was held in a crushing grip; a quietly victorious voice whispering in her ear.
"Sailormoon," Zoisite chuckled darkly, and cruelly twisted her arm; blue eyes widening in mute agony as her arm popped out of its socket, her mouth opened to let out a shriek of helplessness as pain lanced up and down the abused limb.
She was kicked into the ground, her body twitching spasmodically as she began to cry, tears streaking her face as she tried to scream, anything, just anything to stop the pain. She didn't look up as she was lifted by her throat so that she dangled limply several feet above the pavement, her tiara dim on the ground metres away from reach. Sure that this was the end, she blocked out Luna's anguished cries and lifted her eyes to meet the youma's dead gaze in silent challenge — and Sailormoon felt her heart turn as she watched it bare its fangs and laugh.
A sharp crack filled the air, and then there was agony there was screaming her useless arm could not help her and neither could her good one and she was alone in a world that existed only for pain –
Where she existed only to feel it.
Perspiration beaded on his forehead as he continued to fight the instinctive urge to transform. Mamoru's hands clenched and unclenched fitfully as a muscle twitched in his cheek.
When the youma had materialised, the entire school had gone into lockdown mode – no one was allowed outside, nor were they permitted to leave the classrooms. 'Did they ever even consider that their very saviours might be trapped within these walls?' He glared around at his cheerful classmates.
"Sailormoon's here!" one boy said, grinning with relief. "We're going to be safe!"
"Baka!" Mamoru snapped in spite of himself – the effort of fighting Tuxedo Kamen's emergence drained him by the second, and he was getting decidedly irritable. "Did you think to notice that she's alone? Even her senshi aren't with her!"
He saw the other open his mouth to retort and suddenly, the pain became that much more intense – his eyes bulged momentarily and he fell to his knees as screams that rang loudly in his ears drowned out Oroka-kun's reply.
'Why do I feel her pain?' he wondered dizzily as he sprang to his feet, shoving those in front of him aside to get to the window that offered the best view of the fight. Another scream tore through him and he heard its faint echo from outside. His hand dove instinctively into his school blazer's inner pocket where it reached into his subspace portal to conjure the roses – perhaps no one would see the sparks then –
But his fingers encountered flawlessly-cut, cool stone and he froze, eyes darting towards Zoisite's laughing form, to Sailormoon's tortured one and back to the pocket.
Zoisite would most definitely be interested in the yellow nijizuishou crystal… but how would he get the Dark General's attention?
'Hold on, Sailormoon,' he clumsily attempted to send a wave of reassurance down the bond and closed his eyes as his mind raced. Supposing he did get Zoisite's attention, would he survive? Zoisite had powerful dark magic at his command – Mamoru, even as Tuxedo Kamen, had only his ability to heal and direct energies… and his cane, which hid a sword. Always before, he had the senshi to back him – were Zoicite limited to the same resources and power Tuxedo Kamen had, no doubt he could best the dark general, but…
'Usako… will last night be the only night?' To his shock, tears choked his throat. He didn't want to die now, he realised. He wanted to go back to his Usako and tell her life was too short – that he would never leave her again and to hell with what society thought.
Then Mamoru was ashamed. Usagi would never condone such selfishness from him, just as he would never condone it from her — and what sort of world would he condemn her to, with both of its protectors gone?
Finally brought back from his thoughts, he realised Sailormoon had stopped screaming, and that his classmates were shouting in fear and panic, Langdon-sensei hastily unfastening the locks to the door and ushering them out as quickly as he could.
Mamoru looked up in just in time to see the large glass window before him explode inwards and Zoisite's face, twisted in a triumphant, insane grimace as he tackled the dark-haired junior to the floor.
"Go!" he shouted to the sensei; when Langdon continued to hesitate, Mamoru's eyes flashed warningly and an invisible force shoved the teacher into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Stuffing the nijizuishou back into his subspace pocket, Mamoru felt a rough hand fist in his hair and force defiant midnight eyes to meet flat green ones.
"So," Zoisite sneered, hoisting the seventeen-year-old above his head and rising into the air so that Mamoru, who topped the general by nearly over half a foot, could not find purchase on the ground. "This is the face you hide behind that mask of yours."
Mamoru managed a polite smile before a foot lashed out, causing the older man to drop him as he tried in vain to ease the sudden numbness in his knee. A rose materialised in Mamoru's hand as he fell; while Zoisite remained distracted, Tuxedo Kamen, cape still coalescing around him, used his shoulder to ram the Dark Kingdom general through the air and through another window. Glass flashed in a bright arc to fall to the grass below.
The younger man was forced to leap away in order to avoid a hail of ice crystals, and Zoisite disappeared from view only to reappear directly in front of him, a fist crackling with negative energy soaring towards his opponent's masked face. Gritting his teeth, Kamen caught it at the wrist and weathered the storm as dark magic ripped through him; he could feel his skin blistering angrily.
"You don't need the mask anymore, Tuxedo Kamen," Zoisite taunted, and Kamen let out a low cry as something sharp and cold pierced his shoulder. He recoiled instantly, reaching to pull the ice crystal from his flesh, and his dark blue eyes blazed with hatred as hurled the missile back at Zoisite's hovering form.
To the masked man's frustration and resignation, the crystal vanished within inches of the dark general's smirk. "Now that we know your face, it shouldn't be too difficult to place a name to it."
Again, Tuxedo Kamen launched himself upwards; again, Zoisite caught his blows and the smell of singed flesh filled the air. This time, however, there raged a firestorm in Tuxedo Kamen and Mamoru's person – Sailormoon's screams, his own guilt for waiting so long, the agony of holding back the transformation as well as the single desire to simply end things, frothed and boiled as the fire built higher and higher…
A golden discus, white-hot with pure energy, arced out to strike Zoisite from behind, and a familiar voice made foreign by exhaustion and pain cried out: "Now, Tuxedo Kamen!"
But he had already drawn his cane, and dark wood melted into bright steel that flashed down, gold flames wreathing the blade…
…and as twice before, a piece of marble-sized, polished stone landed soundlessly on a small mound of silver-grey dust that blew away in the wind.
Tuxedo Kamen knelt and with expressionless eyes, pocketed the zoisite. Eyes widening in remembrance, he turned back towards the youma –
"Shabon Spray!"
"Fire Soul!"
"Supreme Thunder!"
Kamen watched, concern flitting across otherwise stoic features as he watched Sailormoon draw her Moon stick, limbs trembling with fatigue. Before she had even completed the crooked circle, he felt her mind blank as she slipped into unconsciousness.
"Sailormoon!"
"What's with her?"
"Selene's mercy, her back!"
"Senshi," Kamen interrupted quietly. "The youma."
As three faces turned towards him, they showed mistrust, curiosity and anxiety. "What happened?" they chorused.
He was not listening; the firestorm raged yet, and he wondered distantly if he could just –
His palms itched and he removed a glove before thrusting it forward, willing, needing it to get out…
A torrent of red-gold flame blazed forth, and he replaced his glove after a moment of slight hesitation and a little fear of his own power, sleeping all this time. Turning on his heel, he left Mercury, Mars and Jupiter to gape from the little heap of dust to his retreating form, and back towards where another breeze blew the remnants of the youma away.
As he knelt beside Sailormoon's crumpled form, she opened glazed blue eyes to look at him, and her mouth shaped the beginning of a familiar name before she halted, confused, and sighed before falling back into darkness. 'Ma…mo…' it echoed faintly back, and he looked sharply at her before dismissing it.
Tuxedo Kamen bit his lip in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness and uncertainty before prying her mouth open and stuffing his handkerchief between her teeth. When she didn't wake, he sighed, grasped her arm firmly in one hand, supported her body with the other, and yanked.
Sailormoon's scream tore itself from her throat and he winced, muffled though it was, embracing her awkwardly and allowing her to weep bitter tears into his vest as he healed her back, golden sparks flashing from his fingers to pool in the deep abrasions.
"You came in the end."
Her voice was hoarse, and he didn't meet her eyes for fear his selfishness – which had most possibly cost her more pain than necessary – would reflect in his gaze. Guilt welled up in him and he quashed it firmly.
"Hai, I did." He shrugged very slightly, feeling Sailormoon's head nod against his shoulder. Feeling a sudden urge to explain just why he had almost failed in his… his thoughts paused in confusion. 'In his'? 'In his' what?
Suddenly unreasonably annoyed at himself, Tuxedo Kamen told his patient in clipped tones of the new 'lockdown' method Moto Azabu was employing and how he had been delayed in trying to slip away to henshin.
She listened drowsily and made humming noises where appropriate, but she was clearly near the end of her strength, and as he healed the last bruise, Tuxedo Kamen was vividly aware that he was nearly as drained. It took less effort to manipulate a foreign entity's energy and health than his own, but he had never done such a large healing before.
"Domo, and thanks for coming," she managed a sweet smile for him before she eased into sleep again. Standing, Kamen felt his legs wobble minutely as he passed the unconscious senshi to an impatient Jupiter. He wavered for a moment, thinking of his bed at home, now cold without Usako, but still a place to rest quietly…
Sparing half a thought for the rest of his classes, which would probably be cancelled anyway, Tuxedo Kamen nodded farewell to the other senshi before leaving in a whisper of red and black, pausing only to ream out the sheepish-looking camera crews and principal before going somewhere isolated to dehenshin.
As he let himself into his apartment, Mamoru dropped his keys in dismay as he remembered his beloved car, now defenceless on school grounds. Battling momentarily with himself, he finally let out a muttered oath and collapsed onto his bed, discarding his blazer and tie before succumbing to exhaustion and a healing sleep as golden sparks leapt about and around his skin.
Ikuko was almost beside herself; her young face bore marks of where she had clutched it hard as she watched Tokyo's superheroine being flogged half to death before the enemy became distracted by someone in the classroom. She knew that by the time she got to Moto Azabu, and on foot at that, it all might be over, for better or worse – that knowledge was all that kept her from running to her poor, defenceless baby. She had cursed the other senshi and Tuxedo Kamen as she watched her daughter fight alone against that thing in the courtyard, but suddenly understood as the camera swung around to zoom in on Tuxedo Kamen's coldly furious features as he gestured jerkily at the school.
"The senshi are not invincible," he stated, and his eyes were unreadable behind the half-mask. "I am not invincible. You were lucky to have anyone come to your aid at all, and she suffered all the more for it. We don't have to come. We don't have to risk our lives and endure pain beyond what your foolish, closed minds deem imaginable while you watch the girl you call heroine writhe in pain and feel, if you are especially charitable that day, a mild twinge of conscience that we fight your battles for you.
"I couldn't care that you can't help us; Kami knows you'd only get in the way, but putting schools into lockdown and sitting on your arses isn't going to help us – or you,for that matter. When you see a youma, run." He suddenly turned to face the camera, and Ikuko held back a shudder. He looked disconcertingly sinister, lips pressed into a thin line as his cape snapped crisply in the breeze as his wounds glowed with golden light and vanished.
He was every inch the person that had just killed a fifteen-foot-tall monster, and the man controlling it. And yet… Ikuko could feel nothing but admiration for him. He was young; couldn't be more than sixteen, seventeen, eighteen – but he fought. He did not fight for glamour or glory; she could hear the exhaustion in his voice. He fought because he had no choice, and the Senshi – herdaughter – was just like him in that regard. Ikuko refused to believe that Usagi would destroy for any reason other than that there was simply no other recourse. She knew she had raised her daughter better than that.
And then he was gone, leaping directly over the camera. It made as if to follow him before focusing in on a grim-looking Sailormars and Sailormercury.
"We can't add much to what Kamen said," Mars all but snarled, "however, you can be sure that if I catch any camera crews near our next battle, I'll fry their equipment to a crisp; is that understood? That's if I don't throw a few fireballs in your direction first!" Her eyes shot violet flames at everyone about her, then at the camera itself.
Sailormercury placed a placating hand on Mars' shoulder. "You may not be aware of it," she said softly, "but we are all very young – just nearing sixteen. We are still schoolgirls, but we will not endanger our families and loved ones by revealing our secret identities."
"If you do something like this again – put a lockdown on all businesses and schools when a youma is sighted – don't even try pulling out the guilt card if we don't appear. If you think the loss of innocent lives is worth it if you learn 'secret' identities, then fine. As far as we're concerned, you'll have brought it down on your own fool heads," the fire senshi snapped.
Ikuko was distracted from the television and Mercury's soothing words to her companion as she felt herself being watched. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with an apologetic-looking Jupiter. Ikuko was startled, and then desperately relieved as she saw her little girl's chest rising and falling evenly in the deep rhythm of sleep. "She is – is she –?"
"Tuxedo Kamen healed her," Jupiter answered curtly, and laid her friend down on the settee. She shot a quick look at Luna – 'when did she get back here?' Ikuko wondered absently – and sighed. Powering down, Ikuko blinked as Kino Makoto's emerald green eyes gazed into her shocked dark brown ones.
"Makoto-chan?" Ikuko felt an immense up swell of relief and worry. Relief, because her daughter's fighters were friends, and worry, because they were all just so young… "Shouldn't you be getting home now?" the elder Tsukino inquired softly. Then, it struck her just how rude she sounded and she back-pedalled hastily. "There's nothing wrong with you staying here – I'm sure Usagi will be grateful for the company when she wakes, but –"
Makoto, who had stiffened warily at first, relaxed and smiled. "Iie, iie, Tsukino-san, it's fine." She cast a worried glance at the windows, however, and her next remark was a little more business-like. "We should get her out of that fuku; if you have nosy neighbours —"
Ikuko nodded and went to draw the drapes. "No-one saw you coming here, then? I can't imagine that one Bishoujo Senshi carrying another, unconscious one is inconspicuous…"
The tall brunette winked at her from another window. "Nobody ever seems to look at the roof-tops," she said with a grin.
Usagi's mother smiled reluctantly. "And to think my daughter used to be afraid of heights… Now how does this work…?" She tugged experimentally at the fuku's bow, which took as much notice of her efforts as an oak notices a kitten's claws. "Makoto-chan, how do you get these things on?"
Makoto shrugged, strolling over to regard her leader. "Honestly? Our clothes vanish, and this stuff just appears; I don't even think it has seams…"
Ikuko peered up at her. "Then how do you ever get it off?"
"The same way you get it on," Makoto said absently, peering at Sailormoon's brooch.
"Which is?"
"Magic," the taller female said with a shrug, and reached for the bit of jewellery. "Let's see… we have a pen, but I think she transforms with this…" Long fingers wrapped around the broach and gave a gentle tug, then a harder one, then one so hard that Sailormoon was half-lifted from her resting-place, brooch and all. "Zeus' balls," Makoto mumbled, and clapped her free hand over her mouth, blushing. "Oh man, Tsukino-san, I am so sorry —"
Ikuko waved her off. "I've heard far worse from her father," she said absently. "We've got more important things to think of right now — such as the idea I just got. Support her back with your other hand, will you?"
The brunette blinked at her, but complied; her confusion melted into comprehension when Ikuko took hold of the surprisingly-stretchy fabric of Moon's fuku collar and pulled in both directions at once, allowing the woman to roll the bodysuit over the blonde's shoulders before pausing her daughter's complete lack of underwear. "Fascinatingly supportive and concealing," she observed after a moment, deciding to leave the fuku alone. It was best if Usagi's relationship with that Mamoru boy was kept quiet for now, and the bruises – though none were visible at the moment – were a dead giveaway. "Have you ever gotten wet in it?"
Kino Makoto might be a tomboy, Ikuko noted absently, but she could turn a most becoming shade of pink. "Ah, hai… there was an incident involving very sharp feathers and a water main," she said after a moment. "We were all really glad to find out it doesn't go transparent…"
"There's that, at least," said Ikuko, tugging at one of her daughter's boots. "Do any of you have the least idea what any of this is made of?" She turned it over and over in her hands before putting it aside and turning to the other.
Makoto giggled, applying herself to the business of removing Usagi's jewellery. "Oh, I asked Mercury once — we all have; apparently it's sort of a tradition with the newbie to ask right off; Mars asked when she came, and when Mercury came Moon asked her — since, well, she's the only one who'd have even a chance of knowing, right? I make all my own clothes, but I've never come across anything like this, no matter how expensive — there's no weave at all; you can cut it if you try really hard, but there are never loose threads, and when you henshin again, you'd never know the difference — and Mercury is the Incredibly Smart One With The Scanning Computer, so everyone asks her, over and over again." She giggled a little harder, before grimacing. "I don't think this choker is going to come off at all…"
"Never mind that," Ikuko told her, gathering up the earrings, hair-jewels, and tiara and wondering exactly just what to do with them before simply slipping them into her apron pocket for safekeeping. She tucked the boots under one arm and stood up. "Let's get her up to her room…" Makoto nodded and scooped the girl up as easily as her alter-ego had, and Ikuko marvelled for a moment as they headed up the stairs. She didn't look that strong….
"So what does Mercury say that's so funny?" Ikuko asked after a moment, trying to restrain her urge to hover behind Makoto on the stairs in case she tripped and dropped her baby. If Makoto and Usagi fell, she'd make no difference at all…
…but she did it anyway.
"Oh, it's great fun," Makoto said cheerfully. "She turns bright red and starts ranting at length about 'utterly impossible' and 'ignores all the laws of physics' and 'completely artificial' and so forth — but that's just a warm-up because then she gets into something she calls 'Clarke's Law', which she seems really fond of 'cause she'll keep on talking and talking until all of a sudden she seems to realise she hasn't taken a breath in the last five minutes, and just falls over…"
Ikuko smiled slightly at the image of cool, collected Mercury — Mizuno Ami? — in full scientific spate. "So what does she conclude at the end?"
"Once we manage to revive her, you mean?" Makoto reached the end of the stairs and made a beeline for Usagi's room. "She says 'Magic, and don't ever ask again!' and then goes into I-can't-understand-this-so-I'll-sulk-for-ten-minutes mode…" Ikuko allowed herself to smile a little more as she held the door for the tall girl and her precious burden. A little strange, perhaps, but if it made them happy…
"How did all of those… injuries heal so quickly?" the indigo-haired woman inquired, feeling sick as she remembered the general who had beaten her daughter, and a vindictive flare of satisfaction at the knowledge that 'Zoisite' was nothing more than a thimbleful of dust on the wind. The older woman looked at Makoto only to witness the brunette's shoulders stiffening warily. "Makoto-chan?"
"Ah, gomen nasai, Ikuko-mama," Makoto sighed. "It's just… Tuxedo Kamen healed her."
Ikuko raised an eyebrow. "And that is something to be wary of because…?"
"We don't know his motives!" Makoto informed the curious Ikuko heatedly. "He jumps in and saves Usagi-chan all the time and we – the senshi – are worried that…"
"Hai?" Ikuko prompted when the tall girl's tirade trailed off and a few moments had passed. "Worried that…?"
Makoto flushed again. "Anou… Tuxedo Kamen is very charming, and Sailormoon fancies him. We're worried that he might take advantage of that – he's perceptive enough to be able to see that that the leader of the senshi likes him, so what will he do with that power?"
Ikuko looked sharply at her daughter's friend, seeing how her jaw was set stubbornly, long fingers clenched into angry fists. As if sensing Makoto's anger, Usagi stirred and whimpered a little. The brunette was by her side in a flash, stroking long blond hair out of a flushed face. Ikuko, however, was simply irritated. "Are you calling my daughter the weak link?"
"Iie!" the reply came so firmly that Ikuko relaxed, knowing it was the truth. "It's just… Tuxedo Kamen –"
"Everyone has their motives, Makoto-chan," Ikuko said softly. "And I don't believe that the hero of Tokyo who has bled more times than necessary to save my daughter can possibly be such a terrible person. He's a boy, Makoto-chan, just like you Sailor Senshi are girls. You have each of you barely touched the threshold of true adulthood…" she remembered the revelations of the morning, and her brow furrowed the slightest bit. 'Iie, my daughter is already a woman, though a very young one. And I do not believe she is fickle, but does Chiba Mamoru know of his lover's 'night job'?'
Makoto continued to stroke Usagi's hair mindlessly as her shoulders slumped in light of this new thought. "How can we be sure?" she asked, uncharacteristically timid.
"We can't," came the instant reply. "Demo, we can wait and listen. Have you tried speaking to him?"
"I haven't," Makoto's voice was dry. "I think Usagi or Ami-chan or even Rei-chan might be able to tell you that, though – they were the first, after all."
'Rei-chan… Hino Rei?' Ikuko's mind connected the fiery miko and Sailormars almost immediately, but she put it out of her mind for the moment. "Then speak to him – perhaps you have been suspicious of him from the beginning. You girls have each other – from what I've seen and heard so far, I'd say he's very alone."
Makoto looked suitably chagrined, and Ikuko could almost see the girl's compassionate heart reassert itself for a moment before it hardened again. "Nevertheless, our Princess is our first concern – demo, I would probably get shouted at by Rei-chan for saying so, but right now, Sailormoon is my princess. She's the leader; even if she's not most tough or graceful person, she makes it so we – the senshi – have something in common – her. What more could we want?"
Ikuko's face softened from its stern expression. "You are a true friend to my daughter, Makoto," she said quietly. "Both of her – and I hope you'll stay that way."
Makoto gave the indigo-haired woman a wry smile. "Always," she promised, and they both knew she meant it.
Ikuko closed her eyes momentarily, and sighed. "Usagi-chan tells me often of how well you can cook, dear. Will you fix up some broth for her? Injury or no injury, she must go to school tomorrow, and starving her now will hardly have her up and about."
"Speaking of which, why wasn't Usagi-chan there today?" Makoto inquired, pausing in the doorframe.
"Family matters involving Usagi and myself," Ikuko answered, pleased to hear that her voice was steady and clear.
"Oh." Makoto seemed to accept this. "What kind of broth do you think she'd like, then? I always think that chicken tastes better, but beef is lovely for when you're feeling down and want something hot –"
"I trust your judgement, Mako-chan," Ikuko interrupted gently with an indulgent smile. "The broth, pleases?"
Makoto disappeared from the doorway and Ikuko stifled a sigh. "They're all so young…" she reflected, a twinge of unhappiness
Now, to get her daughter out of that fuku and into some proper clothes…
As the Tsukino matriarch removed the fuku completely, rolling it over her daughter's hips and pulling it off, she was immediately struck dumb – not because all of the bruises from her daughter's first time had vanished, but –
"Makoto-chan!" she called, eyes never wavering from her daughter's still body. "Makoto-chan!"
There was a pounding on the stairs and the tall brunette skidded past the doorway before darting into the room. "Gomen nasai, I'll make beef broth instead if you – Thor's Thunder!" The senshi of Jupiter's eyes remained fixated on Usagi's nude form before embarrassment and an arched eyebrow from her friend's mother had her looking away hastily.
"Not quite what I had in mind, Mako-chan, but of a similar sentiment," Ikuko finally mumbled. "Now, tell me, did any of you senshi notice that Usagi-chan appears to look more seventeen and eighteen than fifteen when she is… transformed?"
AN part the second: As Jikkan-chan is too dignified to beg, Arashi-chan shall do it/gets down on her hands and knees and cries crocodile—err, all-too-real tears/ PLEASE! REVIEW/begglepuds/