Warnings: dysphoria, potentially.
There are some nods to Daughters of Destiny in this chapter, but I've avoided spoilers (though there are hints at what's to come in that story).
Lucky Child
Chapter 57:
"Are You Prepared?"
When the golden light faded, Sailor V stood before us.
Long blonde hair crowned with a red ribbon, rippling blue skirt, crimson domino mask—the same person I'd met the night before last, down to the gloved hands set proudly on slender hips. Sailor V stared through the mask at Kagome and me without flinching, regal bearing and flashy costume entirely out of place inside my mundane bedroom. We'd run (we'll, they'd run and I'd hobbled) up here the minute we realized who Minato was.
"OK," I said from my spot on my bed. I'd propped my foot up on a pillow, which seemed entirely too undignified a pose when meeting a literal superhero. "Color me convinced. You're Sailor V."
Kagome, straddling my swivel chair with arms crossed over the backrest, raised her hand into the air like a kid trying to get a teacher's attention. V looked at her and quirked a brow.
"Sorry, if it's awkward, but, um—the costume doesn't really fit your civilian image." Kagome's eyes darted sidelong toward me. "Why do you—?"
V's smile looked tight and tired. "I'm afraid I haven't quite figured out how to change this outfit. The transformation does what it will." V's feet shifted, clacking neatly together at the heel. "Observe."
Once more golden light suffused V's body, skin glowing as if lit from within by the light of some warm sun—and when it faded, the young Minato stood before us once again, wearing his slacks, starched button-up, and smart blue tie. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying my best to recall the face of the Sailor Scout who had only moments before stood before us. Nothing came to me, however, red domino mask dominating my memory of her features until the face behind the mask blurred into obscurity.
When Kagome gasped, I dropped my hand from my eyes.
Minato's neat crewcut had not returned along with his clothes. Instead Sailor V's flowing mane fell in a golden wave down the length of his back, unbound and silken. He reached back and lifted a lock between his fingers, granting the hair an absolutely rueful smile.
Like this, he looked like a girl wearing boy's clothes—and I almost covered my eyes again. This seemed too intimate, too personal, too potentially painful for me to witness. Not when we'd only just met.
"I'm afraid this happens every time I drop the Sailor V persona," he said, still staring at his long hair. "I have to be very careful about when and where I transform." Minato's other hand disappeared into his pocket; it emerged holding a pair of scissors. "I've taken to carrying these around just in case." Another rueful smile. "Have gotten quite good at cutting my own hair, for the most part, though I carry a hat in case an emergency chop job goes awry."
"That's…wow," I said, because what else could I say?
Kagome, true to form, had no trouble summoning words. "Not to be the one to point out the elephant in the room, but I have to ask," she said. "Your name is Minato, not Minako?"
It was like a cat spotting a dog, the way Minato stiffened. Blue eyes fixed on Kagome, and with deliberate movements he reached back into his pocket. The scissors he exchanged for a simple hair-tie, which he slipped over his wrist as he began to braid his hair in a tail over his shoulder.
"I picked it myself," he said, voice low and soft and wary—and for a moment he looked years younger than the impressive Sailor V, fingers working with artificial confidence around the length of his long braid. "Is it a problem for you?"
"Not at all," Kagome said, head shaking—and then she broke out in an easy, breezy grin. "I just don't wanna call you the wrong thing and sound like an idiot, is all."
Minato had a good poker face, and it didn't even flicker at Kagome's cheerful statement. The minute pause in his sure hands gave him away, however, as did the deep breath he took once he tied the end of his braid.
"Good," he said, and in that muttered word I detected the faintest undercurrent of relief. Shoulders now at ease, he looked between Kagome and me in turn. "Understand this, both of you. In my past life I was six foot four, in perfect physical condition, and a Kampfschwimmer, or frogman, of the Kommando Spezialkräfte der Marine. In other words, I was what you might call a German Navy Seal." The German words rolled off his tongue guttural off his tone, and now he almost glared, serious expression incongruous on his young face. "I could kill a man with my thumb."
Kagome, true to form, laughed at that assertion. Me, though? I didn't let it show on my face, but the statement picked up my pulse, punted it into high gear, blood coursing painfully down the length of my broken leg.
Please tell me he wasn't the type to revel in his killcount, or something.
Please.
"The most important factors of who I am did not change when I inherited Aino Minako's body," Minato continued. One more look at Kagome, and then at me, heavy and assertive. "Do you understand?"
I had to wonder if this was the first time he'd confessed the truth of his in his short tenure as Aino Minato—and how often his gender became an issue in Japan. I answered him quickly, pushing aside my earlier discomfort in order to comfort him. "Yeah. We understand." I offered a crooked smile. "All I've gotta say is Hiruko sure does have a knack for making stuff complicated, doesn't he?"
Minato frowned. "Who?"
"You haven't—? Oh." I let out a low whistle. "We have a lot of ground to cover."
"Seems like it." Minato flipped the braid over his shoulder, lifted the scissors, and very casually sawed at the base of the tail. "I go by Minato in this life. My pronouns are he and him, though when transformed, you may use feminine variations." The scissors made a metallic noise when they cut through the last of the hair. Braid held tightly in his fist, he shrugged. "Don't blow my cover, I suppose. I work hard to maintain it."
Kagome (in the spirit of his past, I think) flipped Minato a cheery salute. "Roger that, officer." She eyed his severed braid, which he wound around and around his hand. "Do you wanna throw that out, or something?"
"No. I have a buyer in the city. You'd be surprised at the worth of human hair." A smirk. "My buyer wonders where I so often acquire such quality hair, and at such length, but I don't think she'd believe me even if I told her."
I couldn't help but laugh. Kagome all but cackled, saying, "Cheat! You've got your own little racket set up, don't you?"
Minato looked pleased in spite of himself. Much as I wanted to hear more about his little get-rich-quick scheme, his joke about his hair had calmed my nerves, and with that calm came clarity.
"Before we dive in, quick question," I said. "Where's Botan?"
Minato's smile faded. "She's safe. Safe and sleeping."
"Unconscious?"
"No. A restful sleep, complete with REM cycle."
Relief felt like a drink of water, bracing and cool. "Good. I've been worried." Lacing my fingers together, I stretched my arms over my head and felt my knuckles pop. "But with that out of the way—how're you enjoying the Sailor Moon life?"
"Well enough." Minato shoved his hair into his pocket and turned, wandering away from me and toward the edge of my room—probably to look at the poster of Johnny Cash on my closet door. "Though it was never my thing, really."
"Oh?"
"I only watched some of Sailor Moon: Crystal. I was never a fan. That was Greta's wheelhouse."
"Greta?" Kagome said.
"My wife." He pointed at the closet. "Is this a closet, a bathroom, or a hallway?"
"A closet," I said. A beat, and then: "Why?"
"I will need the two of you to follow me. Provided you're comfortable doing so."
Kagome and I looked at each other.
I said, "Follow you…into my closet?"
Minato held up a finger. "Give me a minute."
He had pockets like the TARDIS, given the amount of crap he kept pulling out of them. Minato pulled forth four small objects, no bigger than coins and glimmering like liquid gold, which he placed on the four corners of my closet's doorframe. I squinted and managed to discern the shape of crescent moons—but before I could ask what the moon-shaped chips were for, Minato pushed open the door.
The door no longer belonged to my closet.
Past the frame, lights whirled, dappling the landscape of my bedroom with neon splats. The sounds of coins dropping into slots clanged through the formerly quiet bedroom air. The scent of dry carpet and cotton candy wafted into the room, polluting the homey smell of ramen and laundry detergent. Around the corner of the door I spotted a shape moving, small and lithe, and behind him—
Behind the kid, the Super Mario logo burned bright and red.
"Is—is that an arcade?" Kagome asked.
"Holy shit," I said. So much for Minato's pockets, because, "You turned my closet into the TARDIS!"
Minato shut the door; the lights and scents and sounds ceased. "I suppose that works as a measuring stick," he said, eyeing me up and down. "What Doctor were you on, before you came here?"
"You mean before we died?" Kagome said—and all three of us winced. She took a deep breath and continued, "Yeah. We both died, and then…here we were. In these bodies."
"Also, Capaldi as 12, and he was brilliant," I added.
"I see," Minato said. "Me too, about all of it. I had wondered." He gestured at the door. "But we'll talk more inside."
Even though the thought of walking through a portal into some unknown arcade (which existed who-knows-where in the breadth of time and space) was more than a little daunting, Kagome and I exchanged only a short look before rising to our feet. She helped me get my crutches under me and walked me to the door ahead of Minato, who stayed behind to usher us through. I braced myself before passing over the threshold, but crossing through the doorway felt no less ordinary than stepping from my bedroom and into the hall. In fact, the only real indication that this wasn't a normal door came from the humidity, of all things. My bedroom felt drier, and when I entered the arcade a wash of humid air perfumed with burned bulbs and the scent of sweat washed over my wrinkling nose.
What lay beyond the door felt ordinary, too. It was just a hallway leading to the arcade, short and carpeted and commonplace, lights of the arcade flashing at its end. We had taken no more than a three steps into it when Kagome stopped walking.
"Oh, hey! I know where we are!" she said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "This is the Game Center Crown! And that means—"
She dashed away with no further preamble, too fast for my limping gait to follow. I stared after her with a sigh; behind me Minato passed through the portal, coming to my side with a disgruntled frown.
"Wait!" he called after Kagome, but she was too far gone for that, having disappeared behind the corner of a racing game at the end of the hall just as Minato spoke.
"She has a tendency to bolt," I explained. "You'll get used to her, promise."
Rather than look reassured, Minato scoped me out, eyes traveling up and down my frame as he frowned. The scrutiny was innocent enough, but even so, pulse beat heavy in my lips and chest, thudding with needless fear (he was almost a head shorter than me, after all; what did I have to be scared of?). He said, "I admit, neither of you are what I was expecting."
"We sure as hell weren't expecting you, either, if it helps," I said, tone artificially breezy. "What'd you say you were? German?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment's hesitation he said, "German by birth, Polish by descent."
"Ah. Kagome and I are both American."
Minato's lips twisted. "That explains a few things."
"Oh, does it now?" I said. "What, we live up to an American stereotype or something?"
Minato flushed, looking away with expression most guilty. "We should find Kagome."
His plan was not difficult to follow, goal even easier to fulfill. Down the hall and a left turn later, I spotted her in the midst of a gigantic floor of games, standing in front of a pink and gold machine with large red and blue buttons on its console table. She spied us just as we saw her, beaming as she pointed at the screen.
"Eeyore, look!" Kagome said.
Minato's brow shot up like a rocket. "What did she call you?"
"Oh. We have nicknames. I'll explain later."
Minato did not seem placated in the least by my non-explanation, but Kagome was mimicking a palm tree in a hurricane to beckon us over and people were staring; best get over there, fast as one could on crutches. I hobbled my way to her and did a double-take at the machine she'd chosen—specifically at the blonde haired, blue eyed character painted on the side of the pink console.
"Wait," I said. A game demo played, showing a tiny Sailor Scout traversing a side-scroll environment full of cartoon monsters. The character leapt up and kicked a beast with her bright high heel, golden hair flowing in the air behind her. "Is that a Sailor V game?!"
"Yup! Spotted it a few weeks back. This is how I found V," Kagome said, jabbing her index finger at the screen as the demo ended, giving way to the game's title card. "Look at the leaderboard!"
The screen—which had displayed the Sailor V logo alongside a posing cartoon version of the person literally standing a few feet behind me (fucking bizarre)—flashed and changed, red and gold letters scrolling up from the bottom of the screen. I almost didn't bother to read them, but Kagome pointed with more vigor at the screen, so I did as she asked and scanned the roster of MVPs.
My eyes promptly bugged out of my skull at message streaming past. Specifically the message in the name section of the leaderboard, which someone had filled in with…well.
They'd fill it in with us, I guess.
YU YU HAKU
KEIKO YUKI
KAGOME HIG
INUYASHA
SAILORMOON
HELLOVENUS
WASSUP
"Impressive, right?" Kagome said, pointing at the high scores accompanying the letters. "I got really good at this game, lemme tell ya. If I scored even a little higher or a little lower, the whole order got messed up. Took me ages to get it right."
"…I see." I looked over my shoulder. "You were right, Minato. She spends way too much time at the arcade."
Minato chuckled, hands jammed deep in his pockets. Kagome gave an indignant squawk and planted her hands on her hips.
"Hey! It worked, didn't it?" she said. "I remembered that in the manga, Minako used the game to train, so I figured if she was monitoring the leaderboards and was one of us, there was no way she'd miss my message—but to everyone else it just looks like gibberish." She winked at Minato, then. "You lived right up to my expectations, buddy."
"You made it easy," he said. In the arcade's uneven light his hair looked more silver than gold, his eyes more black than blue. "I admit, I was shocked when I saw it. I thought I had to be hallucinating." Another of his most rueful smiles. "More people like me? Or was it some trick?"
Taken aback, I asked, "You mean—you mean you didn't suspect we existed?"
He matched my shocked expression with one of his own. "How could I? I still have no idea how you learned of my existence."
"You were in the papers," Kagome said. "Took down a mob ring, right?"
Understanding gelled. "Oh. Right. That would explain it."
"And how'd you find us in return?" I asked.
"After I spotted Kagome's message, I started monitoring the games. Eventually I recognized her as the one leaving the messages." Minato stepped close, voice pitched low under the clamor of the surrounding video games and laughing patrons. "Truth be told, Keiko, finding you two nights ago was an accident. I had no way of knowing at what part in your plot you were. There was no sign of you at Sarayashiki Junior High—and yes, I checked once I saw your name on that leaderboard. But then the call came on the radio of rioting in Sarayashiki, and they mentioned Meiou High School…"
"Two and two makes four," I surmised—but before we could go further, a kid ran over and queued up behind Kagome, waiting for a turn at the shiny Sailor V game. "Um. Got a quiet place where we can talk?"
Minato's eyes flickered to the kid, who bounced up and down on his heels and craned his head over Kagome's shoulder at the gleaming game. Minato nodded, and without a word we followed him into the depths of the Game Center Crown.
He'd made this arcade his base of operations, just as Sailor Venus had in her manga series; he knew the building inside and out, leading us through the maze of games and to a door tucked behind a dusty old shooting game no one wanted to play anymore. Through the door lay a hall, dark and echoing, and at the end of it stood another door—ordinary, made of metal like an exterior door to an alley or something. Nothing that would draw attention, that's for sure. Minato put his palm on its handle and paused, waiting for the handle to take on a faint orange glow before pushing the door open wide.
What lay beyond was anything but subtle.
The gigantic circular room, tiled all in white, looked almost like an amphitheater, concentric levels descending stair-like down to a bottom floor. A half-circle of computer panels cupped the bottom level, consoles like something from a space mission, transparent screens of flickering data and cascading numbers projected into the air above the boards of blinking buttons. A few chairs and benches had been set near the control panels; it was to these Minato led us, helping me and my broken foot down the steps and onto a plush blue couch (made of burnished white metal, very futuristic, very Sailor Moon-control-station). Minato took a seat across from Kagome and me in a high-backed bucket chair, which had been set in front of the computer console like the captain's seat on the Starship Enterprise.
"Now." He sat still and straight-backed, hands resting neatly on his knees, control panel behind him blinking like a meteor shower. "Where do we start?"
Kagome and I exchanged a Look—and then we both giggled.
Minato lifted a brow. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, just—we asked that same question the day we met," I said, gesturing between Kagome and myself.
"Where do you start with something like this?" Kagome explained. "We're all anime characters. It's like a huge crossover fanfiction nobody had any business writing!"
"Fanfiction," Minato repeated. Kagome had said the word in English; he pronounced it with heavy Japanese inflection. "I don't know the word."
"Oh. Um." I shifted in my seat, wondering how good this German soldier's English was. "Well, hey. Let's start at the start, huh?"
And so, we told him everything—everything from our respective births to the days we discovered who we were, and that we hadn't merely been reborn with intact memories. No, nothing so simple for us. He listened with rapt attention to our stories, to our recollection of meeting during aikido lessons, to our current places in the many plots of this patchwork world.
"Eeyore is farthest along in her story, I think," Kagome said.
Minato looked at me at the sound of my nickname, so I said, "We gave each other our nicknames the first night we met."
"Yeah, because this one was being all mopey," Kagome said, elbow against my ribs. "'Eeyore' fit like a super morose glove."
"And you bounce off the walls, so…" I returned.
Kagome put on her very best poker face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said—and as one we giggled.
Minato frowned, but then his expression cleared. "The two of you are friends," he said.
It wasn't a question, but then again, it was such a random (not to mention obvious) statement that I had to pause. Minato held my gaze for a moment longer than was necessary, and did mine eyes deceive me, or did he look…sad, almost?
Why the hell did have reason to look sad?
"Yeah. We are," I said. I leaned forward, unable to help it. "You OK?"
Minato hesitated. When he spoke, it came slow and soft and pondering, like even he wasn't quite sure where his words meant to venture.
"When I met you," he said, "I wondered if you were like me." Blue eyes briefly closed, lashes like soot on his cheeks. "Not just in the obvious ways, but…when I saw those traps you laid, for a moment I wondered if, perhaps, you were from my company. Another frogman I'd known before." And then that smile, full of hard regret, crossed his young face once more. "I see now that you're not."
"I'm so sorry," I said, wincing inside—because while I'd only been protecting myself with those traps, the thought that I'd gotten his hopes up cut to the core. Conscience screaming at me to make it better, I offered: "But even if I'm not what you were hoping, I hope you know you can call me a friend."
"And me, and me!" Kagome said, hand in the air. She nudged my thigh. "Think we should give him a nickname, too? Really induct him into the tribe?"
I wore the kindest smile I could offer when I looked at Minato. "Only if he wants."
I expected him to leap onto the idea, to be honest, the same way Kagome and I had cleaved to each other moment we met. Two lost souls finding each other in a huge, cold world against all odds. Who wouldn't cling to someone in that situation, forge a family where before there had been only isolation?
Instead, Minato surprised me.
He didn't hesitate a moment. Voice firm, though not unkind, he told us, "I think we had best keep this relationship of ours professional."
I blinked. "Professional?"
"Professional?" Kagome repeated. Her nose scrunched. "It's not like we're not coworkers."
Minato's ramrod posture straightened even further, if such a thing is possible. "Mixing our various fandoms seems like a poor idea," he said, clipped and rehearsed, a soldier repeating back the contents of a dossier. "As such, I believe it is best we limit our interactions when possible." His voice softened just a tad. "I understand the two of you have a close relationship, one which appears to be based on a sense of mutual support. While I appreciate your willingness to induct me into that arrangement, I assure you it is not necessary."
Neither Kagome nor I said anything. Frankly, I had no idea what to say. I started to talk, then stopped, then started again.
"That's…logical, I suppose," I said.
"Haven't you been lonely?"
Minato's head whipped toward her, as did mine. Kagome stared at Minato with jaw clenched, teeth visible behind her curling lips. Upon her thighs her hands clenched, tension vibrating her arms and tightening her shoulders, small frame alive with pent-up energy.
"You were just saying," she said, "that you hoped we were part of the Kommand—the Kommando Special Mar—?"
"The Kommando Spezialkräfte der Marine," Minato supplied.
"Yeah, that." Kagome tossed her head, hair flying, eyes like lit coals. "And we're not, which I guess sucks, but we're still in this with you. We're still regular people who got dragged here against our will. We're still just like you." Her face spasmed, pain and fear and anger turning her eyes darker still. "And you said you didn't even know we existed until now, and you're what, thirteen? Thirteen years of solitude, and you want to keep it professional? Some of us don't get so lucky, finding friends all over the place. Some of us have to be alone our entire lives, and yet you're going to reject us?!"
Her voice had risen with every word until it reached a feverish crescendo, echoing high and biting in the cavernous control room. Minato didn't move while she talked, staring her down with a neutral poker face that probably rivaled my own. I put a hand on Kagome's knee, giving it a light, warning squeeze.
"Kagome. Calm down." I kept my voice as neutral as Minato's blank face. "He doesn't have to be buddy-buddy with us if he doesn't want to."
Kagome's teeth gnashed. "Yeah, but—fuck, ugh!"
She shoved my hand away, bolting off the couch and back up the stairs, back the way we'd come toward the door to the arcade. She didn't leave the room, merely stood by the door with her back to us, hands wound tight into her thick hair. Trying to calm down, I suspected.
And she had every reason to be not-calm just then, after what had happened on our trip to the past.
Minato had no way of knowing, but he'd just stepped on a fucking rake.
"I've offended your friend."
My head jerked back toward Minato. He stared up at Kagome uncertainly, and when I caught his eye, he tried to smile. Didn't do a good job, though. I don't think he'd been expecting her to react with that much piss and vinegar.
"She went through something difficult recently," I said, keeping my voice down. "She learned something about her presence in this world that makes things like isolation a sore subject. But it's not my place to tell you about what she went through. That's something I think she'd only share with a friend—a true friend."
Minato didn't look happy about that. He was the type of guy who didn't like being left in the dark, or at least that's how he seemed to me. I wasn't about to go flaunting Kagome's pain to this guy so soon, though. Not after he'd rejected the offer of friendship, and not after only meeting him a few days prior.
We were in this together, just like Kagome had said, but that didn't negate the fact that we were still—for all intents and purposes—total and complete strangers.
"Still. She does have a point." I sat back in my seat, trying to keep my body language open and free of accusation. "All of this would be easier with support. But it's not like I can force you to be our friend."
"Thank you for understanding," Minato said. He glanced up at Kagome while he spoke. "I intend to do what I must and play my part on my story's canon, but once that part is over, I have every intention of returning to my old life. Having friends to leave behind would only make that harder."
My brow knit of its own accord. "Is it even possible to return to our old lives?"
Minato's eyes closed, pain flashing bright and raw before his lids concealed what he felt inside. When his eyes opened again, they held nothing but cool detachment, like he spoke of subjects no more personal than the weather.
"Perhaps not," he said. "Not the exact life we left behind, at any rate. But once my duty as a Sailor Soldier is finished, Germany calls me home."
How he'd manage that, I couldn't say, but… "If that's your choice, I'll respect it. Just know we're here if you need to talk, or whatever. OK?"
He nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."
I got the sense he didn't mean what he said. His expression hadn't changed, hadn't shown appreciation for my offer—but it's not like I could force him to want companionship (or admit that he wanted it, at least). After one more smile I turned in my chair, looking up toward Kagome.
"Hey, Tigger?" I said. "Why don't you sit down?"
She wheeled in place, glaring at us with arms crossed over her chest—but after a moment she slumped, trudging down the stairs with head hanging low.
"Fine," she grumbled, throwing herself onto the couch beside me. Pointedly ignoring Minato, she asked, "He knows he'd get a really hilarious nickname though, right?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, he's analytical and whatnot, so clearly we'd call him 'Rabbit'—and considering his fandom, that's pretty ironic, dontcha think?"
She said "Rabbit" in English, and I admit it took me far longer than it should have to recognize the pun. When my brain translated the word to Japanese, however, it clicked, and suddenly I was a puddle of helpless laughter, arm thrown over my face as I leaned back against the couch and cackled.
"Rabbit!" I said, eyes streaming, breath coming in hard, hilarious pants. "Oh my god! Rabbit!"
Minato's scowl could've cut stone. "What's so funny about that?"
Kagome looked at him askance. "Rabbit," she said with a toss of her hair. "Rabbit. Get it?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
I sat up and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. Minato stared at Kagome without blinking, trying to read the punchline in her stubbornly quiet face. The pun was obvious as heck, though, which could only mean…
"Minato," I said. "Did you only ever watch the dub of the anime?"
He didn't reply verbally, but the pang of guilt that crossed his face said it all.
"…oh." Huh; this guy's anime knowledge was even more limited than I realized. Trying to be helpful (but wary of talking down to him) I said, "Sailor Moon's name is 'Usagi' in Japanese."
It clicked at once, of course, Minato's lips twitching in a smile of humored recognition. "Usagi" meant "Rabbit," and for another Scout to bear Sailor Moon's civilian name was an irony indeed.
"Plus," I went on, "in the anime, Venus spent some time pretending to be Sailor Moon herself, so…"
That pulled a laugh out of him, finally. "Now I'm regretting turning down your offer of a nickname," Minato said.
Kagome huffed. "Damn straight you are!" She paused, but then she grinned—and she tipped Minato a wink, unable to help herself. "There's always time to reconsider. Lord knows we could use someone like you if we run into Hiruko again."
Minato smiled back, but the look faded into one of stony resolve. "This is the second time you've mentioned that name. Dare I ask to whom it belongs?"
Kagome and I shared another of our Looks, one that conveyed far more than words ever could. Her eyes had hardened at the sound of the demigod's name, mouth a line of thin aggression, so I elected to take point on this subject.
"Well, we have to get to him sometime," I said. "Minato, how much do you know about Japanese myth?"
Nothing at all, it turns out. He had never even heard of the god Ebisu, much less his ancient name of Hiruko. I filled him in on the basics as best I could, outlining what I knew of Hiruko's origin, how I'd met him, and the fact that I had no idea what his goals were. Minato didn't bat an eye when I said Hiruko had probably stolen thread from the Fates themselves, though, which I counted as a lucky break. Minato could adapt, could roll with the punches as they flew, and that was an enviable trait indeed. When I finished telling him about Hiruko's insistence that I "break the rules," he gave me a resolute nod.
"Although I wish I knew what this Hiruko was planning," Minato said, "I can only assume it isn't with good in mind. To long for such chaos isn't the mark of a well-intentioned man." A grim smile, satisfied but dark. "Too bad for him I do not intend to break the rules."
"Oh?"
"Yes." Once again he straightened in his seat, posture as rigid as it was formal. "From what I understand of the anime, Aino Minako was Sailor Venus, leader of the Sailor Scouts and sworn protector of Princess Serenity." His chin inclined a fraction, pride evident in his glimmering eye. "As I have had tactical and military training, I am uniquely suited to assume Sailor Venus's role in events to come."
"All right!" Kagome could roll with the punches too, it seemed, because she beamed at Minato without compunction, earlier quarrel forgotten (especially if it meant gaining an ally against Hiruko). "Hiruko picked the wrong damn guy, that's for sure!"
"Thank you. If he aims to take Serena off her path, I will not let him." His head rose higher, confident and purposeful. "I will protect her with my life. It's what I have been trained for."
Kagome crowed, pumping a fist into the air. I didn't cheer, however. Something nagged at me—something small, but wrong. Too wrong to just let go.
"You said earlier the anime was your wife's hobby," I said. "How much of it have you seen?"
Kagome's expression turned curious; Minato's brow furrowed, body shifting toward me in his seat.
"I admit, only parts of Sailor Moon: Crystal," he said, "but Greta spoke of the series often."
Well, that was a fat load of help, little did he realize. "I think it's easier to start with what you know," I said after a moment's contemplation. "Tell me all you remember?"
Minato did. He had a decent grasp of the start of the series, thankfully. He knew about the Inner Senshi, Mars and Mercury and Jupiter, and knew that the evil Queen Metaria had destroyed the Silver Millennium hundreds of years ago. This same queen would menace the world again soon, and it was the Scouts' job to save the world from her dark reign.
"Good start," I said when he stopped talking. "What about the Outer Senshi?"
But Minato frowned. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean."
I paused. Then, hesitantly: "Chibiusa?"
"No."
"…Wiseman and Demande."
"I don't—?"
"Did you read the Sailor V manga?"
"No," he said. He raised a hand before I could throw more names his way. "I assume these are all details I missed?"
"Yes, they are, I hate to say it, and I hope you don't take offense—but I think Hiruko picked the right damn guy, after all."
My hands trembled on my lap as I spoke, words tumbling in a mad rush of babbled dialogue. I really did hate to say it, truth be told, because Kagome's face fell and Minato adopted a look of burgeoning determination I wasn't sure I liked very much. It made my mouth go dry, made the breath hitch in my lungs as Minato appraised me.
"What do you mean?" he asked, tone uncomfortably inscrutable.
I took a very deep breath.
This could go one of two ways: Either he could listen, and absorb, and alter his thinking…or he could get defensive and tell me to get the hell out of his secret Sailor Scout clubhouse, and take my opinions with me.
I had no idea which road he'd travel.
My pulse quickened in my belly, hot and nauseating at the thought of challenging him.
The last time I'd dared question a former military operative, I'd gotten shoved face-first into a wall. But that had been in another lifetime, and I tried not to think about that asshole ex-boyfriend of mine anymore. He wasn't worth the time. He wasn't worth the heartache.
Hopefully, the man that was Minato would not be like him.
Fingers crossed that I wasn't about to alienate this already distant person, or make me the target of his ire, I said, "How does the Maboroshi no Ginzuishō work?"
Minato's chin rose once again, proud he could answer me. "The Silver Crystal is a jewel of immense power. It's a weapon enemies wish to steal."
"I didn't ask what it is. I asked how it worked."
Though I tried to voice that statement gently, Minato still looked taken aback. "I—I don't know," he said, tone hushed.
Another deep breath, to quell my mounting nerves. "The Silver Crystal's power is directly tied to the emotional state of Sailor Moon," I said. "If she's emotionally unstable, sad or angry or despairing, the Crystal doesn't work as well. Emotion is the key to her power. It's the key to all of the Scouts' powers."
Minato did not reply. In fact, he didn't even move. His chest stopped rising and falling, still as his lungs caught a breath and held it tight.
"In fact," I said, "Sailor Moon was praised by critics for its positive portrayal of emotion. Emotion is generally regarded as a feminine weakness, but Sailor Moon weaponizes girls' feelings, turning them from liability to asset in what many critics deem is a decidedly feminist statement about expressing feelings."
Minato had no idea how to take that, judging by the look of absolute shock on his face—and for a moment I regretted bringing up that point at all. He had enough crap about gender on his plate without me shoving that down his unsuspecting throat, too…but the fact remained that Sailor Moon defeated Metaria, and other villains, thanks to the power of her bond with her friends.
That was the hard truth of the matter.
Military strategy would only get him so far if he didn't forge the necessary bonds to back it up.
Kagome hummed in recognition. "Right. I'd forgotten most of that, but you're right. They fought, yeah, but in the end it was their relationships and feelings that mattered more than fisticuffs."
"Exactly." I reached for her, found her hand and held it, grateful for her presence as I looked at Minato's frozen eyes. "You have military training, Minato, and that's great. I wish I had that, too. But I'm afraid that that's not what the Scouts rely on to win their battles. It's part of it, sure, but bonds of love, friendship, and trust are what give the Scouts their true strength."
Something shuttered behind his eyes. "They will be able to trust me. I know the value of teamwork. I know what it is to work cohesively."
"Teamwork isn't the same thing as friendship, though, is it?"
Minato drew himself up, shoulders straightening, mouth opening to draw in breath—but then the shutters in his gaze cracked open.
Behind them, I saw pain.
"I'm sorry," I said. He was too far away, but even though I feared how he'd react to me, I wanted to reach for him, give him a hug and ease some of the stark loneliness hiding in plain sight within his features. "I know I sound harsh as hell right now. But you haven't seen the anime much, and I don't want you caught off-guard." My smile came sad and slow, apologetic and unyielding all at once. "Protecting Usagi is going to take more than acting as her bodyguard and directing fights. Half of the Scouts' missions revolved around their friendship and character development—and the battles Usagi wins with the Crystal hinge on the love she has in her friends. Becoming the Scouts' friend will be just as important as protecting their lives."
No one spoke when I was through. Kagome stared, small fingers firm around my larger ones. Minato had stopped breathing again, hands digging into the fabric of his pants hard enough to crease their ironed pleats.
"Are you prepared for that?" I said, so soft Kagome leaned in closer to hear. "Are you prepared to make friends in this world, I mean?"
For a little while, Minato didn't speak.
Then he stood.
I flinched, but he didn't lunge for me. He simply stood, walked away, and exited the command center via the door behind us.
Kagome and I met each other's eyes. She swallowed, action audible in the quiet room. I took a deep breath and tilted my head back, stretching my neck with a pop. Tension, hot and tight, had gathered there while I hadn't been paying attention. The ceiling of the room, I noticed, was black, winking with a million points of light—a star map. One I guessed would be quite accurate given Minato's personality.
"Where do you think he went?" Kagome whispered.
I opened my mouth to reply.
Minato came back into the room.
The words soured, shriveled, and died as Minato marched smartly down the steps towards us. I tensed, neck aching as my muscles pulled taut, but Minato walked right by and returned to his swivel chair. He sat ramrod straight once more, but this time his hands didn't rest atop his knees. In them he held a pen and a pad of stationary, Game Center Crown logo stamped in black at the top. Minato scribbled something, and then he looked straight at me, young face wearing expectance like a tailored suit. Kagome tittered, eyeing the stationary in his steady hand.
"What are you doing?" Kagome asked.
"I'm setting up to be debriefed," Minato said—and the shutters behind his eyes had gone, replaced by open determination. "I'm ready when you are, captain. Teach me everything you know about Sailor Moon."
NOTES:
Strength comes in many forms, as does competency. I think that might be one of the themes of this fic.
Minato is a badass for sure, but the Sailor Moon series isn't necessarily tailored for his particular brand of badass. He's going to have to change how he thinks about strength, emotion, and friendship if he wants to do well as Sailor Venus. I wanted to make it clear that while Minato is very competent with military strategy and fighting, he isn't necessarily going to be team leader of the Switcheroo Crowd. I think all the switched souls have strengths and weaknesses, and not all of their strengths will be applicable in their respective series.
I started to write a flashback scene for this chapter about an exboyfriend who was in the military, and how he could not handle any challenge or criticism of his opinion, which affects how I'd likely feel about giving criticism to Minato (and to this day affects how I behave around people in the military)…but I got a pretty bad trigger-flashback because my ex was an abusive asshole. I had to leave it out and just stick with a few little lines about it. But those moments where NQK worries about being frank with Minato spring from that ex of mine, whose military training enabled him to act violently at the slightest perceived slight, and in ways I was unable to stop. I still have trouble speaking to people in the military, and it's been years.
I know this was both late and short, but this week (insofar as my personal life goes) was…actually sort of scary. I get migraines. They're bad. They've been getting worse over the past year or so, decline remarkable and drastic. This week I got very dizzy, and remained severely dizzy and disoriented for more than 24 hours. I couldn't stand up for a good chunk of the day.
It's not often I get scared over my own health. I've shattered an arm, had two tumors removed, and endured more broken toes than I can count. When I get sick, I generally power through, but those 24 hours were actually rather terrifying. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. Paired with my dramatically worsening migraines, I admit I'm alarmed. I'm seeing a neurologist and price-shopping for an MRI (fuck you, American healthcare, for forcing me to type that phrase). I don't know what that dizzy spell was symptomatic of, but I intend to find out and kick its ass.
Thanks for the support, everyone. You're all lovely, and your comments were a bright spot in my topsy-turvy week. The following had no idea how buoyed I felt by their comments, but just the same they lifted me up when I felt indescribably low: tatewaki2000, Just 2 Dream of You, xenocanaan, AnimePleaseGood, mskittyholiday, Toushou-sama, mikklystar, Dawn17, MetroNeko, lheartlife888, Laina Inverse, DreamingTraveler, FreshToDeath, Mayacompany, Lady Rini, wennifer-lynn, Counting Sinful Stars, zubhanwc3, Mistress Anko, shen0, KuramaG33, DiCuore Alissa, Marian, Anon, Viviene001, ahyeon, general zargon, Trickery Is My Middle Name, A, Kaiya Azure, Neira, SesshomarusLuvr, WaYaADisi1, Miss Ideophobia, Tsarashi, Bergholt Stuttley Johnson, Yuriko-Rurinia, Dark Rose Charm, ED99, yeee, WistfulSin, Lola, Schizo the Mentally Disturbed, KhaleesiRenee, Skylar1023, heeeter, Hi, and ten guests.
(To the anonymous reviewer "Yee"—holy shit, you don't know ANY of these fandoms? Let me know if I can give you any info that you're missing! Definitely didn't write this with non-YYH initiates in mind, and I'm TICKLED PINK you like the story so much even though you don't know the fandoms. Thank you, and let me know if I can help!)
