It's Ami's birthday and she's celebrating as only she can... Pre-Dark Kingdom Arc. Mixed Manga/Anime canon. Written for Ami birthday 2021.

Rated: T - Hurt/Comfort/Family - Words: 2,182 - Ami M./Amy/Sailor Mercury, Saeko M./Mrs. Mizuno

She'd consulted multiple books to triple check the directions. She could have had one of them open in front of her whilst she worked, but her experience in chemistry classes had convinced her it was an action best avoided. She didn't want to risk damaging the books in any way, so she'd committed the instructions to memory. She surveyed her surroundings and confirmed (for the fifth time) that she had every necessary component.

She was finally ready to make a start on her task.

Almost.

None of the books had told her to do it, but her own common sense clued her into the obvious. She went over to the sink and turned on the tap, running her hands under the cool water.

Despite how cool the water was, Ami felt she'd had enough of swimming.

She approached the lake bank and clambered out, enjoying the warmth of the sun gleaming down upon her. Still, she knew better than to 'air dry', as her Mother called it, and so made her way towards a fold out chair a few feet away.

En route she made sure to keep her distance from the man sitting in a fold out chair of his own. Although she calculated the chances to be slim, with her body soaking wet she didn't want to risk even a drop of water getting near his paint or canvas.

The man was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice her until she neared her chair.

"Oh, Ami!" He reached towards the beach bag to his side, "Here, let me-"

"Don't worry, Papa, I already have a towel." Ami picked up a light blue body towel from the fold-out chair and wrapped it around herself. Clambering onto the seat, she began to dry herself, her small legs dangling over the side.

"If I'd known you already had one, I'd have left this at home." He lifted the towel a little before replacing it in his bag. "I might've been able to fit a few more paints and brushes that way."

Ami stopped drying herself and blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, Papa."

Her father's expression was unreadable behind his hat and glasses.

"You don't need to apologize, Ami. It isn't a big deal. I just wish your mother had let me know before we left."

"Oh, Mama didn't pack the towel. I did. I also brought sun block and insect repellent just in case. I read there are a lot of insects hatching this time of year and the weather report said it was going to be very hot today."

Her father's mouth was slightly agape. "You… You did all that… yourself?"

Delight flooded Ami. Her father must be so impressed by her. Still, she thought it best to restrain herself. "Yes, Papa. Mama says I'm very self-sufficient."

"… I see… And did she explain what that means?"

Ami tried not to look too pleased with herself. "She didn't have to. I already learned about it from the dictionary I memorized the week before."

"That is…" His lips formed into a thin line, "She isn't wrong, Ami. You are very self-sufficient."

A giggle welled up within Ami.

"I just worry that you are maybe a little… A little too self-sufficient, is all."

The giggle died at the back of her throat.

"At least for your age," he added before turning back to his canvas. "I've never known any six-year-old to be as mature or as studious as you."

Ami desperately wanted to protest, even though she had to admit the kids in her class didn't seem to read as much as she did.

"Then should… should I not bring my own towel next time, Papa?"

Her father paused in his painting and swiveled back around to his daughter.

"That's not… Never mind. Don't worry about it Ami." Once more, he returned to his canvas.

Despite his words, Ami did worry, particularly when she just about heard him mutter something under his breath:

"Me and Mama need to have a little talk…"

Gazing in through the glass she saw the flame ignite and adjusted the settings to the prescribed temperature.

She had other things to do, but nevertheless she remained where she was for a minute of two. The heat emanating towards her was pleasingly gentle and the flame's dance almost hypnotic. Finally, she tore herself away and pressed on with her work, making a mental note to check on the heat every so often.

After all, she didn't want to cause any accidents.

Ami's homework was rudely interrupted by a very high-pitched beeping noise. She'd read about what the noise meant and what she should do if she heard it.

Fear gripped her but she ran out of her bedroom and headed towards the front door. On the way she passed by the kitchen where, as she'd suspected, black smoke was emanating from. But not that much.

Her mother was stood in the middle of the kitchen, furiously waving a dishcloth around the smoke detector. Ami soon spotted the source of the smoke and pulled a little stool across the floor. Climbing on top of the stool, she adjusted the dials on the oven before clambering onto the counter, leaning across the sink and opening the window. Soon enough, the noise quietened down.

"Ami! Get away from there!"

Her mother grabbed her and hastily pulled her away from the window.

"Do you have any idea how many children get hurt playing near open windows like that?"

"Yes, Mama. Official records from last year estimated that-"

"Stop! That wasn't what I meant! You are not to do that again, young lady, do you understand?"

Ami shrunk in on herself. "Y-Yes, Mama. I understand. I'm sorry. I was just trying to help you get rid of the smoke and make the noise go away."

The fear, and any lingering anger, in her mother's eyes swiftly dissipated. "That was very nice of you," she began, a softer tone to her voice, "But you are still just a little girl. You have to be careful. I don't know what I'd do if something awful happened and you ended up in the hospital."

"But, Mama, that wouldn't be so bad, would it?" Ami spoke the same way she would do in class, as if asking a question to her teachers.

"What? Of course, it would Ami! How could you say such a thing?"

"Well, if I was in the hospital then it'd be easier for you to see me, right? If you work there, we could see each other more often, couldn't we?"

Her mother didn't react the way her teachers did. In fact, despite all she'd read and the large vocabulary she'd cultivated, Ami had no words to describe how her mother looked at that moment. It was vaguely similar to how some of the other kids from school looked in the split second after they fell over but before they began to wail in pain.

Of course, that didn't really make sense. Her mother hadn't tripped, nothing had hit her, or cut her or hurt her in any way. And more importantly, though she hadn't confirmed this in any of her books, everyone knew that grown-ups didn't cry. Apparently though, their eyes could get oddly wet and shiny.

Confusion gripped Ami as her mother suddenly hugged her very tightly.

Whilst the heat gathered, she set about the next stage of the instructions.

One by one, she measured out the appropriate amounts of each 'component'.

Three cups of flour.

One tablespoon of baking powder.

Half a teaspoon of salt.

One and a half cups of sugar.

She worked slowly and carefully, not wanting to have to start over from scratch or make a mess. When she was done, she added them into a bowel in the order she'd memorized.

Perhaps it was the concentration she was devoting to the task, but she found herself slightly mesmerized as each substance made its way into the bowel. It was as though she could almost see every white grain and flake drifting towards their destination.

For just a moment, she shivered.

"It's ridiculous, Saeko! She's just a child!"

"She's a very bright child!"

From her bed, Ami looked out of her window.

"Maybe she is, but just being bright doesn't make you that capable!"

"What do you want? For her to read less, to learn less!?"

Her eyes followed the dance of each snowflake as it floated on the wind.

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"Then what are you saying!?"

"Oh, I think you know!"

She tried her best to concentrate on how they caught the city lights, briefly changing colour as they did so.

"No, no! Please! Enlighten me! Gift me with the wisdom you gleaned from your latest trip to the country!"

"I'm saying she's only as self-sufficient as she is because she's had to be! She's smart for sure. But she's learned to look after herself! Learned how to deal with things she shouldn't need to at her age! Just look at what happened that time with the wi-"

"I swear, if you try to throw the thing with the window in my face one more time, I'll-"

Ami shifted her gaze to a billboard off into the distance, lit up with a blue neon light.

"You said it yourself, Saeko! You admitted how she made you feel that time!"

"Fine! Maybe I am a failure as a mother. But I'm not the one taking outdoor excursions every chance he gets! Maybe she wouldn't have needed to grow up so fast if you'd spent more time at home!"

"How many times have I talked about letting her come with me!?"

"For goodness' sake, she needs to be here! Not hanging around some lake or forest. She has a gift. She needs to study!"

Ami squinted her eyes, trying to read the sign.

"Learning is more than just books, Saeko!"

"Oh, right? Is that why you're hardly here? You just have to leave the city every chance you get because you want to keep on learning?"

She gave up, instead focusing intently upon how the snow lit up blue against the sign. Doing so helped her to ignore the tightness in her chest.

"No! It's because I can't stand…"

"Go ahead! Say it! Just say it! You want to…"

She stared down at the split egg-shell, one half in each of her hands.

She felt a twinge in her chest. An old, familiar tightness. Gently, she placed the egg-shells down on the counter, not caring how the remnants of the yolk were dirtying the countertop. Turning away from the counter, she fixated upon the fridge where two pieces of paper were affixed with magnets.

One was simply a painted postcard with picture of a beautiful lake and mountain scenery.

The other read:

"Ami,

I am so sorry to have to do this to you today of all days, but I got an emergency call at the hospital. I won't be back until late. I've left money, so order anything you want for your special day. I promise we'll celebrate properly next week.

Love,

Mama."

Ami hadn't used the money for take-out.

Instead, in a rare moment of spontaneousness, she'd gone to the store and picked up all the ingredients she thought she'd need. But now looking at them on the countertop she'd lost her motivation. Silently she began clearing up until all that was left was the one item that wasn't even edible.

It'd be a shame to waste them. Like throwing money away after all. However, in that moment, Ami didn't care. In another fit of spontaneity, she opened the packaging ad began dropping its contents into the trash one by one.

She stared down into the mouth of the trashcan.

Against the dark and dirty abyss of the plastic bag, the blue and white striped sticks stood out like the snowflakes from all those years ago.

For the briefest of instances, she considered retrieving them. Then her chest panged again.

She began to move away from the trash when she realized the packaging wasn't completely empty. There was still one left.

She held it up to her eye level.

"You won't make any difference," she whispered to the object. "… But… If you did…" Her voice started to crack. "… I'd wish… I'd wish that next year…" Her eyes began to sting. "… I didn't have to be alone…"

Tears flowing down her face, Ami dropped the fourteenth and final candle into the trash.

A/N: Just to let you know I am involved in a discord called 'Moonlight Legends' which is dedicated to sharing all sorts of Sailor Moon fanworks, including other fanfics. If you would like to join so you can share your own work, get help with your current projects or just connect to other fan creators shoot me a PM and I'll send you an invite. All are welcome!