Bleed (Just to Know You're Alive)

Written by: Spirit-hime and AngelAnne

Chapter 2

//anything between slashes are thoughts//

--------

//Hot... it's so hot...//

Mamoru struggled to claw his way into consciousness. His chest had seized up again, bringing with it a searing pain in his lungs that caused him to cough violently. There was a constant roaring in his ears, and he felt unbelievably hot beneath his blankets. He forced his eyes open.

And saw that his own illness wasn't to blame.

His room was on fire. Very, very much on fire. Flames lept around the edge of his bed, coming first through what remained of his doorway.

//Okay, Mamoru, don't panic. Grab what's important, and get out of here.// First, he rummaged around desperately in his desk for four very important little stones. Finding them quickly, he shoved them into his pocket. He considered making a grab for Usako's letters on his desk, but he didn't know if they were worth risking life and limb for.

//What a stupid idea. Of course they are.// With a smirk, Mamoru carefully swung his legs off the end of his bed. Even though his breathing was not to full capacity, and the room was filling with smoke, he managed to make a leap across the small room and to his desk. Thankfully, it had not yet become ashes, and he grabbed a small stack of papers, tied together with a pink ribbon.

"Time to get out," he announced, to no one in particular.

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

He would have liked to whip around, but considering how wobbly his legs felt, he had to make due with turning slowly. A figure stood framed by the flames, grinning maliciously. She was dressed in an equally hideous sailor fuku as the false Sailor Mercury who had come before her. "And you are?"

"Some people call me Rain. Ha! Rain of Fire! Get it?"

"Right," Mamoru coughed, unimpressed. "I'm gonna go now, Rain."

"Oh, right. You can't be doing that."

The fire was drawing nearer. Mamoru was sure the hair on his knuckles was being singed. The only door was all but obliterated. "And why the heck not?"

"Mostly because it's my job to kill you. Nothing personal."

"Well, you can't be doing that, either."

Rain smiled. It was not a nice smile. "And who says I can't?"

"...I do."

The woman's giggle was positively eardrum-shattering. "Now I'm scared!"

Mamoru growled low in his throat. The flames had begun to lick his feet; he would have to take drastic measures to get out now.

"Trying to escape, are you? Too bad." Rain's tone of voice implied that it wasn't really such a bad thing.

Before Mamoru could spout off an angry reply, the strange false Senshi gathered a fiery arrow in her hands.

"Mars Flame Sniper!"

Shoving Usagi's letters in his other pocket, Mamoru lunged to the side, but not by enough. The arrow grazed his arm, and he swore loudly as it nearly took the whole thing off.

"Now that's what I like to hear!" Rain chirped.

Mamoru took a breath to shout some obscenity, but ended up with a mouthful of smoke, and was taken by a coughing fit instead. The flames had him nearly backed against the wall. Behind him was a window, which he would have eagerly used as an escape route, had it not been painted shut.

"Aww, is the smoke making the poor boy cough? Here, lemme help you. Fire Soul!"

His dodge was even less successful than the last time, and the tendrils of fire bore straight down upon him. The force of the fiery blast knocked him backwards.

Right through the window.

As he flew through the air, shattered glass all around him, Mamoru wasn't sure whether he was thankful that a row of tall shrubs broke his fall on his way down. On one hand, it was five stories, and if he'd hit the pavement, he would have made quite the mess of the pavillion. On the other hand, falling on sharp thorny twigs was not exactly high on his list of recreational activities, especially since he was feeling scortched, scratched and otherwise abused. The only way he could sum up exactly how he was feeling was with a half-hearted moan.

Rain leaned down and peered through the remains of the window. "Aww, did you get a boo-boo?"

Mamoru resisted the urge to tell her where she could shove her baby talk. He struggled to pull away from the shrubs, but between his limbs and his clothing, he was too far entangled in the gnarled branches.

Flames were erupting from the window he had come through mere moments before, blazing around Rain, who seemed completely oblivious to their heat. Mamoru watched helplessly as the place he had called home for the past several weeks was being reduced to ashes, and was steadily taking several other homes with it. Sirens began to sound in the distance, and as the howling and flashing lights drew closer, Rain glanced up at the fire trucks distractedly. Seizing his chance, Mamoru frantically tore away from the branches, and took off at a run. By the time she looked down again, all that could be seen were a few scraps of clothing hanging wistfully from the limbs.

The running was short-lived. He managed to get a safe distance away from the burning building before his legs gave out. He collapsed beneath a small gathering of trees, their shadows temporarily shielding him from the revealing glow of nearby streetlights.

"That was a valiant attempt at escaping." Rain stepped out from an adjacent shadow, brushing an errant strand of dark violet hair from her eyes.

Mamoru said nothing. He glared her down, hoping his instict would kick in and he'd be Tuxedo Kamen in no time.

"Burning Mandala!"

Mamoru hit the ground and rolled, half in an attempt to keep himself from being set aflame, and half because it was not very fun to catch a huge ball of fire with your chest. Finally, as his organs seemed to be shutting down simply out of self-preservation, his clothes faded away into a tuxedo. He would have sighed in relief, had he contained the breath for it.

He shakily stood, glaring at her, desperately trying to figure out a means of escape. If she was anything like the last false Sailor senshi, none of his powers would be any good against her. Well, except the whole glowing thing, but he was not altogether sure he could duplicate something like that, even if he tried. It had not been any sort of thing he could control; it just sort of happened. It must have been the Golden Crystal. So then, couldn't he at least try to use it again?

He willed the Golden Crystal to appear. He had not used it since the day of its unsealing, the day that he helped Eternal Sailor Moon defeat a certain dark moon queen. It opened like a flower just in front of his chest, glowing in that irridescent sunshine-like color.

Rain took this new development in stride. "That's a cute party trick, Endymion. Does it do anything else?"

Mamoru didn't respond. He shot out a hand and blasted her, which she narrowly dodged. She didn't like that very much.

"Mars Flame Sniper!"

Mamoru stepped to his left, just as the arrow flew past him and bent a streetlamp in half nearly ten yards away. Rain didn't like that very much, either. She stomped her foot in a huff.

"Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry, would you prefer it if I stood still and let you kill me?"

"Well, it would certainly make this easier on both of us!"

"Sorry, guess you're gonna have to work a little." He held a hand out, and another stream of gold energy blasted from his palm, this time hitting her almost dead-on. Rain screamed, scrambling out of the deadly blast's path.

"That hurt!"

"Well, cry me a river!"

"Mars Snake Fire!"

Mamoru really should have expected that response. But, for some reason, he didn't, and even as he tried to dodge, the giant flaming snake head swallowed him whole. The Golden Crystal tried to repel and heal his burns, but it just wasn't working fast enough. Out of exhaustion, Mamoru stumbled, falling on his back. Rain stepped closer, laughing quietly.

"You put up a good fight, Prince Endymion. But that's not enough to stop us."

"'Us?'" Mamoru coughed, looking up at her in disgust. "There are more of you?"

Rain smirked. "Oh, there are. It's quite a pity you're not going to live long enough to know them."

Mamoru tried to rise from the ground, but felt pinned down by his own exhaustion. His lungs still burned from the smoke, and he could not stop coughing. Her vicious smirk never fading, Rain slowly raised her hands towards him, index fingers pointing out like a gun. "Now... how to kill you. Yes, I think the direct approach is always best. Pure, untainted fire. Right through the chest."

The image of the soldier in red wavered as his vision dipped in and out of blackness. He weakly gasped for breath, realizing that this was the second time he had been about to die today. Maybe this time it would really happen...

"Fire Soul!"

"Prince!"

Somehow, Mamoru managed to roll over just in time, as the hideous flames set his cape on fire. "Kunzite?" he whispered groggily. He had picked up the four stones before he'd aburptly left his room, but how Kunzite had "awakened" of his own volition...

"Prince, fight her! You can't die like this!"

He caught one of Rain's sharp stiletto heels in his chest, and began to cough furiously again.

"Stop that," she commanded, almost as if she were talking to a disobedient puppy.

"I can't fight her..." he croaked, before his words turned to coughing again. Rain's foot was weighing down heavily upon his chest, making it even more difficult to breath. He gave up on trying to look up at her; all he could see was the shadow of a leg.

"Dammit Prince, if you die now, you'll be breaking your promise to Usako!"

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Rain's voice said, edged by a hint of annoyance.

Mamoru was not listening to her. What Kunzite said was absolutely true. He would be breaking a promise. And dammit, he'd rather die than do that!

Her fingers were pointed at his chest. "Fire...

"Usa... ko..."

"Soul!"

Mamoru closed his eyes. He didn't want to see it coming.

The fire bounced. It hit Mamoru's chest and, instead of searing him to a crisp, just rolled away like a children's rubber ball.

Mamoru was surprised to find that he wasn't dead. When he opened his eyes, Rain stumbled back in surprise, releasing his chest and allowing him to breathe. His eyes were no longer their piercing, dead-sexy cobalt. They were golden. And they were looking right at her.

"My turn," he said, baring his teeth dangerously as he got to his feet. The Crystal made him feel alive, powerful, like there wasn't anything that could hurt him.

He shot a hand out and released a stream of gold energy, which thundered down upon her like a steam engine. Rain squealed and ducked behind a tree just in time.

"Now who won't hold still?" He shouted tauntingly. She made a timid sort of sound from behind the tree. He began to move around it, but every time he did so, she'd wheel around the trunk, keeping it between them. "Do you plan to play games all night?"

"I... um... ack!" She ducked just in time for another blast of gold light to fly over her head. "Stop that! I... I'm leaving!" And without so much as a goodbye, she vanished into the night air.

With that anticlimactic end to the second battle of his day, Mamoru let out a sigh of relief. The golden glow in his eyes faded away, to reveal their original color. As the adrenaline and power seeped out of him, Mamoru leaned up against a tree trunk, feeling depleted. All of his earlier burns and wounds seemed to come back ten fold. And now that he was lacking a place to return to, he was rather out of options.

He considered transforming back into regular ol' Mamoru, but realized that without his marginally heightened power state, he would be in even more miserable pain. So it was either wander around in agony and explain his acquisition of a tux, or wander around in extreme agony and probably pass out.

All things considered, he preferred the former.

He at least took off the mask and hat first; nothing was quite so noticeable as a guy walking around campus in a mask.

He cast a final, mournful glance up at what remained of the wildly blazing building, before turning away and limping painfully in the opposite direction.

He wandered aimlessly, his feet carrying him where they would, seeing little beyond the ground before him. Anyone who happened to glance outside may have seen the shadowy figure of a man in a tuxedo stumbling across the campus lawn in a disoriented way.

It seemed as though he had been walking for hours, as he really had no grasp of time. Kunzite apparently had nothing else to say after saving him from becoming Japanese barbeque, and so he wandered around in silence.

For a little while, anyway.

"Mamoru?!"

Mamoru looked up blearily, though he couldn't see much in front of him. It appeared to be a person talking to him, though it could have been a plate of natto and he wouldn't have batted an eyelash at this point.

The person strode forward and took him by the shoulders. "Mamoru? What happened?"

He recognized that voice. "Malachi?" Mamoru looked up at him shakily, but the effort made him dizzy. He would have fallen over, had Malachi not been holding him up.

"C'mon, let's get you inside." Apparently ignoring his strange attire, he slung an arm around Mamoru's back and carefully led him into the building that he had apparenly been standing right in front of. Mamoru was barely aware of what was happening around him; a long stream of bright lights, music, laughing, and the pungent smell of alcohol. They walked past it, into another room, and a door closed behind them, muffling the sound. Malachi helped him to a couch, where he gratefully collapsed. Every inch of his body hurt. His breathing came in struggled gasps.

"You are the most injury-prone doctor I have ever met," Malachi commented mildly, rummaging around for something.

"Ha, ha," Mamoru replied dryly, before being seized by another coughing fit.

"Stop talking," Malachi dictated, coming forward with some burn salve and bandages. "Well, after you tell me how you managed to escape the burning dorm room."

"You know?" Mamoru wheezed, trying not to scream as Malachi dressed the burn on his arm.

"'I know?' Mamoru, those sirens have been going off for half an hour. The only people who haven't heard them are everyone else in this frat house. And they're too drunk to tell."

When Malachi unbuttoned Mamoru's jacket, which he still had yet to say anything about, a few pieces of glass fell into his lap, and more could be seen sticking out of his clothing.

"...you didn't," Malachi said, dumbfounded.

"The door wasn't quite an option," he replied, not opening his eyes. The light in the room only seemed to increase his headache. He winced as Malachi cleaned one of the many gashes on his chest.

Malachi shook his head. "I'm not even going to ask how you survived a fall like that."

Mamoru gritted his teeth. Nice guy he may be, but Malachi was not at all gentle with dressing a wound. If he noticed the extra pain he was causing, he did not seem to care.

"Not exactly having a good day, are you?"

"You could say that," Mamoru responded, not caring to disguise the bitterness in his voice. "Being attacked twice in one day is not usually on my agenda."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Why do I have the never-ending urge to hit you?"

"Funny, Zory tends to say the same thing to me."

"Zory?"

"My frat brother. Well, one of them."

Mamoru decided he did not want to know. He had had quite enough surprises for one day, and the last thing he needed was to find out that his newfound friend lived alongside Zirconia or something.

Suddenly, something occured to him. "This is where you live, isn't it?"

"Well gee, Mamoru, I simply figured I'd bring you into the nearest frat house and see whether they'd mind the intrusion."

"I shouldn't be here."

"Why?" Malachi raised an eyebrow. "I promise, they're not going to pop in on us and think dirty thoughts."

Mamoru choked at the thought, and began coughing again. Malachi patted him on the back gently.

"Sorry; this is a bad time for jokes."

It was stupid for Mamoru to think he would be unsafe here. Certainly, there was no reason to think that three other Shitennou look-alikes were going to pop up and try to kill him ... actually, there were plenty of reasons.

"I have to--" Mamoru tried to get up, but Malachi carefully forced him back on the couch.

"No. You don't get off that easy, Mamoru." Malachi looked him straight in the eye. "You're going to explain to me why you shouldn't be here. And while we're at it, how you managed to come by this tux after falling through a five-story window."

"...do you want the long version, or the short version?"

"Let's try short."

"I have sparkly magical powers."

"...Now try the long version."

Mamoru sighed. How exactly does one explain something like this? He'd never had to tell his "story" to anyone, except maybe Usako, and even that required little explanation, because she was a sailor senshi herself. How could he possibly begin to explain the concept of sailor soldiers to a guy who had never even heard of them? Even an urban legend like Sailor V would be unheard-of over here.

"You're not talking."

"I'm trying to figure out where to start."

"Try the beginning."

"This is a story that takes place over a span of thousands of years. I don't think we have that long."

And he was right.

"Malachi, what indecent things are you doing to that new recruit?" someone shouted, pounding on his door. The sound of a beer bottle shattering could be heard outside. "Ow, Neff, watch it!"

"My sex life is none of your business, Jed!" Malachi shouted. "And he's not a new recruit!"

He smiled sheepishly at Mamoru. "My apologies; this isn't exactly the best night to be describing life stories."

"So I see." Mamoru began to rise again. "Maybe I should--"

Malachi pushed him back down. "Uh-uh, you're not getting out of this. You can fill in the details later, but for now we can start with the tux."

Mamoru leaned back, defeated. "That part's easy. You know how your average American superhero runs around in colorful spandex? They apparently ran out by the time I showed up."

Malachi blinked.

"And the women having huge muscles and gigangic boobs? Try short skirts and and little cleavage to speak of. But we've got the most powerful, shiny crystal in the known universe, and talking cats."

"...I think you need to stop falling through windows."

"Hey, you said you wanted the story." Mamoru sighed. "The girl we met this morning, and the one who just tried to fry me, are apparently evil clones of my fiance's compatriots back at home. Which is, needless to say, a little disturbing."

"Oh, I imagine," Malachi said dryly.

"She probably really would have killed me, too, except I've now discovered a new ability to shoot gold sparkles at things. Though of course, that's a really draining way of fighting, as I'm sure you realize. As for the reason why I shouldn't be staying here, there are a few of them, but the main one being that I'd rather not see you or your belongings get barbecued by a bunch of hormonal women with violent tendancies and bad taste in uniforms. There; is that enough for you, or would you like to hear about how I nearly got laid with a thousand-year-old witch with horns?"

"Well I can certainly see why you were reluctant to tell me. This isn't the sort of thing you tell just anyone."

"Thanks, I appreciate the sarcasm. I mean, heck, as long as I'm describing my life story to you, you look just like--"

Mamoru was saved, just barely, when someone flung Malachi's door open and stumbled in, drunkly.

"Malachi, yer missing one helluva party out there," the blonde slurred, spilling beer everywhere.

"Screw off, Jed. I'm a little busy here," Malachi snapped, gesturing to the burned and battered Mamoru.

"Never thought you to be a kinky one, Mala--Put the lamp down."

Malachi held the table lamp in his hand menacingly. "Not until you leave."

Apparently Malachi was not the only one upset with Jed, because there was a shout from down the hallway. "JED! How many times have I told you to stay out of my room!" Another blonde charged in, this one with his long hair tied back in a tangled ponytail. "WHAT the heck is all over my wall?!"

"Ketchup."

"Ketchup."

Jed nodded emphatically. "Uh-huh!"

A taller man with long brown hair stumbled in and draped a heavy arm around the angry man's shoulders, nearly toppling them both. "Ya gotta learn to relax a bit, Zory," he slurred. "Have a beer!"

It was right around this point that Mamoru decided he most definitely should not be here.

//This is not happening to me. This is -not- happening to me! As if my day could get any worse!// His eyes nervously darted from one man to the next.

"I suppose these lunatics should be properly introduced," Malachi said, warily putting down his lamp weapon. "The drunk blonde is Jed, the angry blonde is Zory, and the other drunk guy is Neff."

"A pleasure to meet you," Mamoru greeted, trying to swallow his anxiety. He had to get out of here; these men were not safe while he was in their company, and he wasn't quite sure about himself, for that matter. "But you know, I should be getting back to my dorm. Gotta study and all."

"An adcademic type!" Jed sloshed. "How did you pick one of those up, Malachi?"

"Pure luck." Malachi eyed Mamoru critically. He had no dorm to study in. What was making him so anxious to leave?

Mamoru sat up shakily. He had no idea how he could leave, being that he barely felt well enough to stand. But even if neither he nor the other four people in this room were in danger, this was becoming way too bizarre for his tastes. It's bad enough getting beaten up by sailor senshi look-alikes without walking in on what looks like a drunken Dark Kingdom bush party in the middle of the night.

The three newcomers seemed even less concerned about Mamoru's attire than Malachi had. Zory was too angry to notice, and the other two were just too drunk to care.

"Jed, you've got five minutes to clean that crap off my wall."

"And what'll you do to me if I don't?"

"I will dye your hair pink while you sleep."

"...'scuse me, need to go find a sponge." Jed wobbled out of the room. Zory muttered something about "stupid Jed, I really should dye his hair anyway" as he turned to leave. But he finally seemed to take stock of Mamoru's interesting attire, and stopped.

"What happened to you?" he snapped, still running on residual anger from having his room covered in tomato byproduct.

Malachi rolled his eyes. "Tone down the snarkiness a tad, Zory. One of the dorms is burning down. Haven't you heard the sirens?"

"Malachi, a gun could go off and we wouldn't hear it in here. Not with that blasted music they've got going. I've got half a mind to shut the power off just to--Neff! Get off me!"

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Zory?"

"Yes. Many, many times. Usually when you're drunk."

"Doesn't make it any less true!"

"Uh huh."

"I hate to be a poor guest," Mamoru said, leaning forward, "but I just can't stay here. It's not safe for you or your friends."

//Or me.//

"Look, I won't let any tiny-chested evil clone women get to you while you're here. At the very least, they'd probably kill some of the new pledges before they even got to this part of the house."

"Oh good, now I'm really reassured."

Jed sauntered in, dripping sponge in one hand and beer bottle in the other. "All clean Zory!"

"I'll believe that when I see it. Neff, let go!" Zory struggled to move away from Neph, who clung to his neck like a child with a teddybear.

"I think you're missing the point," Mamoru hissed, losing patience with Malachi's lack of concern. "I nearly died today. If one of those women shows up here, I don't even want to think about what could happen to you."

"Look, Mamoru, we're frat boys. You don't think we can take care of ourselves?"

"Not when you're up against women who can kill you dead faster than you can say, 'wow, I'm looking up this girl's skirt!'"

"Gah! Neff!" Malachi glanced up at the three clowns. Zory was turning an unhealthy shade of purple beneath Neff's iron grip. Jed had closed the door and was leaning against it, snickering at the predicament. With a weary groan, Malachi crossed the room to free Zory before he could suffocate.

That was when Mamoru felt a prickle at the back of his neck.

"Neff, lay off the trechea, huh? Whoa, Mamoru, what the--"

Mamoru no longer cared what any of them thought. He forcibly shoved Malachi away from the door, milliseconds before it exploded, throwing all of them to the floor.

"I just replaced that thing, dammit!" Malachi groaned.

"Makala, your aim is awful."

"Aw, Rain, 's not my fault he moved!"

Mamoru's blood ran cold. "Malachi, I don't care if you're freaking James Bond. Get your friends out of here now."

"And let you get toasted?"

"What are you going to do? Booze them to death?"

Rain stepped through the cloud of smoke and dust, grinning down at Mamoru. "Hey, miss me?"

He stood up, coughing. "This is getting really old, you know. Don't you think twice in one night is a little redundant?"

"Ha! You just don't want to admit how frightened you are."

"Yes. I was really shaking in my boots when you ran away."

"I didn't run! I was just... going for backup!" She beckoned behind her triumphantly.

"What backup would that be?"

Rain blanched and looked behind her. "Makala! Get out here!" A mop of brown hair poked out from behind the mangled doorframe, nearly two feet below Rain's head.

"Stop the presses, it's Mini Mako!" Makala timidly came out all the way, revealing the expected ugly green fuku.

"That's awfully cute, Rain. Does it come with a leash?"

"You have weird enemies, Mamoru," Malachi said, staring at the women out of sheer confusion.

"What part of 'get out of here' are you having a hard time with?"

"Well, how am I supposed to do that now? Your Amazon friends are blocking my exit."

Jed blinked, apparently becoming sober. "Uh, did we invite them?"

Mamoru glanced around the room--keeping a wary eye on the strange women--and groaned. Not only was there no other door, but not far behind him was a single, tightly sealed window. He was quickly discovering a newfound hatred for windows.

"Go get him, Makala!" Rain squealed triumphantly. The midget shuffled forward, one of her hands crackling with electricity.

"Now girls, let's be reasonable," Mamoru muttered, carefully backing up.

"Supreme Thunder!"

Malachi lunged out of the way, as the ball of electricity flew past him and scortched a hole in his wall.

"You're almost worse than Jed," he said, glaring from the floor at the little green upstart.

"Rain? Can I do that again?"

"Yes, dear."

"Goody!" Makala beamed like an innocent child. "Sparkling Wide Pressure!"

The energy went wide, bouncing harmlessly off Malachi's mirror and blasting Neff out of the room.

"Ow," he moaned quieltly. "Man, Malachi, you really do have kinky friends."

Mamoru raised his eyebrows. As a non-moving target, he was apparently the safest person in the room.

"C'mon dear, third time's the charm!" Rain shouted encouragingly.

"Jupiter Coconut Cyclone!"

It was.

Mamoru was not sure whether he was overly happy that his plan worked. On one hand, he was now able to draw the battle away from innocent (if those four could indeed be termed as "innocent") bystanders. On the other, he had just been effectively blasted through a glass window. Again.

"Mamoru!" Malachi scrambled to his feet, peeking out the ruined window.

"Nngh, 'm fine," he managed to reply, getting to his feet in a wobbly fashion. He was most definitely not fine, but the last thing he wanted was to drag Malachi into this fight.

Makala giggled with immature glee and ran straight through the wall like a ghost. "Let's play some more!"

With a single leap, Rain came through the window, laughing in her most irritating way. "Frightened yet?"

"You're not exactly playing fair here," he panted.

She smirked. "Who needs fair when you've got power? Makala!"

"Jupiter Oak Evolution!"

Mamoru attempted to dodge, but it was impossible to escape the leaf-shaped slivers of lightning. Several slashed through his skin before he stumbled and fell in a heap on his side.

"Mamoru!" Malachi began to climb through the window, but Zory grabbed him by the shirt collar.

"Don't be an idiot! What could you possibly do?"

"I could ... Well, I could do something!"

Zory snorted. "Yeah. You against derraged women who wield magical powers. Not even your good looks can stop them."

"...but wouldn't they be distracted? Even a little?"

"You're fun to play with!" Makala chirped cheerily, skipping over to the fallen prince. "Buuuut Rain says we're supposed to kill you. So I have to cut our fun time short."

Amazingly strong for such a little girl, she picked Mamoru up by the collar. He glared up at her from the one eye that hadn't started to swell shut.

There was a crackle of energy in her hands, then he was suddenly engulfed in lightning. Mamoru could not help crying out as the short girl continued to electrocute him, the greenish light that streamed across his body flickering in her eyes.

"Malachi, no! Guys! Help me!" Neff and Jed, who were gradually sobering up, glanced dimly at each other and went to help Zory. They did not even begin to comprehend what was happening, but it probably would be a good idea to stop their friend from getting himself fried by the freaky little girl outside. Before Malachi knew it, he was being held back by no less than three pairs of arms.

"Let go of me! Mamoru!"

//Well, at least some of them have sense,// Mamoru thought numbly, trying not to consider how badly he was hurting. //No sense in Malachi getting hurt for me.//

He'd escaped a burning building, just to end up dying anyway. What a crappy, crappy day.

"I said, let go of me!" Malachi tried to wrench away from the partially-sober men who were keeping him restrained. "Do you want him to die, for God's sake?!"

"Of course we don't. But we don't want you to die, either," Zory snapped back. "And admit it; you can't do anything to help."

"I don't care!" He snarled, struggling to free himself from his friends' grasp.

Mamoru could feel himself growing weaker. He knew it probably was not a good sign that he could barely feel the pain anymore. Though his vision was dimming, he could see Malachi over the girl's shoulder, frantically trying to help him. //Why should he care so much?// he thought, slipping from consciousness. //We only just met...//

"Mamoru!"

"PRINCE!"

"...K-Kunzite?" Mamoru mumbled, feeling something warm in his pocket.

Malachi stopped struggling briefly. That voice sounded like his own, and it was coming from Mamoru's pants.[1]

"Do we need to go over this again?" Kunzite's voice snapped. "You dying would be a very bad thing! Now hurry up and fight back!"

//Gee, he's certainly not asking for much, is he?//

"...Malachi? Can you throw your voice?"

"No."

"So I'm still drunk."

"Zory heard it, too; he's not drunk."

Slowly, like a flickering candle, Mamoru began to glow.

"You're like a cute little Christmas light!" Makala was unimpressed by the weak display. "But you're still gonna die."

Mamoru's eyes shot open, shining in a violent shade of gold. "Am I?"

Makala gasped. Precisely before she was launched halfway across the lawn by a burst of power from Mamoru's chest. The four on the other side of the window could only stare dumbfounded as he knelt on the grass, bathed in golden light. Even through his many bruises, burns and gashes, even despite his nearly shredded tuxedo, he looked almost kingly in appearance.

"...wow," they said, dumbly and in unison.

"That was not very nice! You were just supposed to die!" whined Makala. "Now we have to fight!"

"We don't have to. You could stand around and wait for me to kill you." Mamoru grinned ferally. "I'd like that."

"Is it just me, or does your friend look scary?" Neff asked, now totally unsure of how sober he really was.

"No, he looks scary."

Makala whimpered. "Rain, he's scaring me!"

Rain sighed in exasperation. "Never let a kid do a woman's job. Fire Soul!"

She squaked as her attack bounced off his back and singed her shoes.

Mamoru came to a conclusion: he liked the way the Golden Crystal felt. He liked being powerful for a change. He liked feeling useful. (He felt a lot more useful when he wasn't flying through windows, but that was another issue all together.)

Somewhere in his pocket, he heard someone sigh in relief. The Prince may have been slow on the uptake, but he learned fast.

His eyes, orbs of molten gold, flicked between the two girls, deciding who he should take out first. Settling for the one he especially despised, he turned to face Rain, who squeeked beneath his gaze. Mamoru stood and began to walk towards her, a low growl in his throat.

Rain did the only intellegent thing she could think of at that moment. She ran.

He allowed her to get a few paces away before his hand shot out. Energy swirled around it for a moment, then charged after the soldier in red, overtaking her in moments.

She didn't last much longer. After an elongated cry of pain, the fire woman disappeared, overwhelmed by the pure light. There was nothing left but dust, and that was quickly blown away in a cold breeze.

Makala whimpered. That didn't look like fun.

"Tuxedo Mirage[2]!" Mamoru wouldn't just settle for a blast of light: it needed to be properly named. Makala tried to scramble away from the golden light, but did not succeed. She squeeked loudly before being swallowed by the light, collapsing in a quiet heap. Mamoru watched her for a moment, before deciding that she was probably best left alone.

Assuming the threat was gone, the three frat boys let go of Malachi, who hadn't been resisting for quite some time.

The battle done, the light began to fade from Mamoru's eyes. With all his resources completely drained, any strength he had left seemed to vanish right along with the golden glow. He staggered a moment, struggling to stay upright, but gravity eventually won out, and he crumpled to the ground.

"Mamoru!" Ignoring the shards of glass that protruded dangerously from the windowframe, Malachi scrambled outside and hurried towards Mamoru's fallen form.

A few feet away, he abruptly stopped. He thought he saw something there, in the darkness. What he thought he saw was himself, kneeling over the boy on the ground. He--himself--was wearing an unusual high-collared white uniform with a long brown cape that seemed to drape around Mamoru, except it was apparently transparent. The man who looked like him lifted his head to regard Malachi, his deep green eyes seeming to engulf all the world. Then, with a deep nod, he vanished into thin air.

Malachi blinked. What was that all about?

"It's not safe yet," Mamoru muttered, trying to wave him off. "Why are you out here?"

"'It's not safe yet?'" Malachi stared, incredulous. "You just killed both of those strange, magic-wielding women! How could it get any worse?"

"'S not dead yet." Mamoru gestured at Makala who, surprisingly, had not vaporized. "She's supposed to -vanish- when I do that."

Mamoru's head was reeling. He tried to push himself off the ground, but found the task impossible. When he saw Malachi moving towards him again, he tensed. "I thought I told you to get out of here."

"What, and leave you alone out here?"

"She could kill you, you know."

"I don't care about that."

"Well, I do!" Mamrou bellowed angrily. "I'm not going to be responsible for an innocent bystander getting hurt!"

"What are you going to do about it, huh? You can't make me leave!"

"No, but I can!"

Makala sat up, like a corpse from a horror movie, and grinned. "Jupiter Oak Evolution!"

He did not even see it coming. With all the force of a mighty tempest, the electric shock struck Malachi with surprisingly perfect accuracy, knocking him right off his feet and sending him flying into the side of the nearest parked car. He hit the metal with a sickening crunch, before sliding onto the pavement, his back partially propped upright by the sizeable dent his own body had made.

"Malachi!" Zory screeched, looking out the shattered window. Without a second to lose, he tried to scramble out.

"STAY IN THERE!"

Halfway through his climb, the blonde stopped. Mamoru glared at him, glowing golden in less than five seconds. He was mad, and he wasn't going to take it any more. He was fed up with people not listening to him.

Zory stared at the Japanese man, the desperation evident in his lime green eyes. Even though every inch of his mind was screaming to go help his friend, some small part of him refused to let him disobey the words of this stranger. Maybe it was because he was glowing. It's generally a bad idea to cross people who are glowing.

Mamoru rounded on Makala, the fury evident on his face. "You'd better hope he's not dead," he growled.

Makala tried to look brave and dangerous, but she only succeeded in looking petrified. "He was in my way!" she whined.

"That's not helping your case," Mamoru snarled. "Tuxedo Mirage!"

This time, Makala vanished as she was supposed to. In a puff of dust, and a plaintive squeek, she disappeared. Finally sure he was through with enemies - or mostly sure, anyway - he ran over to Malachi, who had not moved since his intimate encounter with a Lexus.

Mamoru knelt down next to him, praying he'd be alright. There were a few drops of blood which stained the strands of silvery hair, and smeared across the side of the car. He reached out a hand, not to feel his pulse, but to touch his forehead. Sometimes Mamoru's psychometric powers enabled him to feel what was wrong with someone, to actually see where they were hurting. It was an unreliable power, as were the visions that came with it, but he hoped it would work for him now.

Barely a few seconds passed before he heaved a sigh of relief. He turned to watch the three who were running towards him, Zory in the lead. "He's alright," he reported.

Zory proceeded to ignore Mamoru, as he knelt by Malachi's side. The white haired man began to stir, moaning quietly as his injuries appeared to come to light.

"Zory? What--" Malachi began to ask a question, but started to slip away into unconsciousness. Zory shook him lightly.

"No! No, don't do that. Stay with me," Zory said seriously.

Malachi's eyes flickered open, attempting to focus on Zory's face, but soon slid closed again. "No! Malachi!"

"We need to get him inside," Mamoru muttered, concerned for the man's pale color.

"What's with this 'we' stuff?" Zory snapped. "If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be in this position right now."

"All the more reason for me to help, Zory," he said calmly, attributing the blonde's outburst to worry. "I never wanted for this to happen."

Zory snorted. "Of course you didn't. He saves your ass at least four times, and you thank him by letting him get pummeled into a car."

"I told him to leave! I couldn't very well force him!"

"Oh, and that makes it okay, then." Neff stood imposingly over Mamoru, his bleary, alcohol-ridden eyes glaring daggers at him. Jed stood just behind him, equally looking ready to pound the black haired man into the ground. "You show up here, take advantage of someone who barely knows you, then proceed to nearly get him killed. How very magnanimous of you."

"And you don't know how sorry I am for that, but I think it's a little more important that we take care of Malachi."

"We're not doing anything until you leave," Jed snarled.

"And I'm not leaving until you do something." Mamoru felt surprisingly calm, for one who was being threatened by two men who were, combined, probably much phsyically stronger than he was. On a good day, even.

"Well then, I guess we'll just have to resolve this problem."

Mamoru assumed that Jed had meant in a passive way, like discussing, but he had assumed incorrectly. His jaw met an angry fist, and with his ears ringing like church bells, he toppled over.

"Not my day," he muttered. "Just not my day."

He rose to his feet, calmly dusting himself off, trying to ignore the pain throbbing throughout his entire head. He locked Jed beneath the steady gaze of his blue eyes. "Do you really want to beat me up right now? Because I've been in no less than three fights today, and one more would hardly make much of a difference at this point. We could easily be here all night, if you're so determined. But let me remind you that while you are wasting time threatening me, your friend is lying here bleeding on the pavement!" For a moment, a hint of the gold light flared up in his eyes. "Now quit standing around and get this man inside NOW!"

Neff's first response, normally, would have been to tackle Mamoru and beat him senseless. But the flash of gold in the man's eyes, in addition to his tone of voice, immediately caused him to reconsider. He was right. The more time they spent stalling with him, the more likely it would be that Malachi would not make it to the next kegger.

"Take him inside. That's an ORDER." With that, Mamoru turned on his heels and began to leave. He wasn't going to get into any needless fights, not with fake Senshi running around, intent on killing him. He had better things to spend his energy on. Like worrying whether he'd just caused the death of someone who was blindly, unintelligently, trying to protect him. (And wondering, however idly, when he'd recieved the right to order people around.)

"Wait." Zory stood up, dusting off his knees as Neff scooped Malachi up in his arms. Mamoru paused, but didn't turn around.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know." Mamoru really didn't. He had no home to speak of, anymore, and all of his remaining possessions were tucked neatly in his pockets. "Doesn't really matter."

"Oh, please. You're in a completely foreign country, as far as I can tell you've got few friends to speak of, and your dorm just burned down. To me that looks rather like you've got nowhere to go."

"What does that matter to you? I'm the guy who just about killed your best friend, remember?"

"Yeah, well..." Zory paused, seeming to search for the right words. "Malachi isn't exactly one to trust people lightly, you know. I don't know what went on today that made him take a liking to you so fast, but I've never seen him get so protective of anyone besides us. And... I dunno, I trust his judgement."

"Does anyone else plan on punching me?"

Zory looked sharply at Jed, who coughed discreetly.

"Sorry. I just don't want anything to happen to Malachi," he said sheepishly. Then, more quietly, "He's all we've had for a long time."

Mamoru turned around finally, his tuxedo fading back into street clothes. "I don't want to put a burden on you. It looks like you've got a full house."

At this remark Zory grinned, making it possibly the first time he had smiled all night. "Oh, you ought to see it on Saturdays." Mamoru wasn't sure whether he wanted to, if it was anything like it had been tonight. He still hesitated, not sure whether imposing on the frat house would be such a good idea. "C'mon," Zory urged him. "even if you don't stay for long, we could use some help getting Malachi patched up. I'd rather not allow Jed anywhere near the first aid kit."

"Okay, I only bandaged your arm to you head once."

"Which was plenty."

Mamoru smiled wanly. "Well, I am of the medical persuasion. I can do my best."

"Well there ya go," Zory replied, taking that as a yes. Before Mamoru could protest, the shorter blonde had already grabbed his arm and began leading him back into the house. "You know, I'd really like to know how you did that."

"Did what?" Mamoru was not overly sure he could explain the details of how one shoots gold sparkly attacks from his hands.

"Made Jed and Neff listen to you like that. I've never seen those two react so fast."

Had he been in a more cheerful mood, Mamoru would have probably burst out laughing. "Zory, you just saw me vaporize a couple of clones from hell, and here you want to know how I got your pals to not beat the heck out of me?"

"Jedi Mind Trick, maybe?"

That did it. Mamoru exploded into, well, giggles. "I've never been very good at mind tricks. Unless they're being played on me."

"Alright, then what was that back there? Those two are hardly ones to listen to orders."

"And I'm not exactly one to give them. Honestly, I don't know what happened. I don't even know why I did that."

Zory led Mamoru back through the house, where the drunken party-goers had apparently remained oblivious to the potentially fatal occurances going on just outside their own building. When they reached Malachi's bedroom, they found a replacement door already leaning up next to the frame. Mamoru blinked. How often must this sort of thing happen if they have spare doors laying around?

"We need those a lot," Zory said, apparently being very good at mind reading. He and Mamoru maneuvered around it and into the room. Neff was bent over, broom and dustpan in hand, cleaning up the broken and bloody glass. The first aid kit was sitting where it had been not long ago, when Mamoru himself had been in need of it.

"Malachi?" Zory's voice was soft, but strong, as he called out his friend's name. The man stirred slightly, but spasmed as the effort caused him immense pain.

The two men wasted no time in rushing across the room. Neff threw an icy glare in Mamoru's direction, but he did his best to ignore it as he placed a hand on Malachi's shoulder to still him. "Try not to move too much."

Malachi's eyes opened, just barely. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and he seemed to wince every time he inhaled. Zory smiled encouragingly. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up."

Malachi looked around slowly, trying to get his bearings. When Mamoru wasn't readily viewable, his eyes darted around frantically.

"Mamoru! Zory, what happened to--"

Mamoru came around from behind Zory, which immediately calmed his white haired friend.

"You seem to have nine lives, you know that?"

Mamoru dug through the first aid kit, assessing what he had to work with. "You're one to talk. You've just been pummeled by a sedan."

"Hey, you should've seen the other guy."

Very carefully, Mamoru reached forward and turned Malachi's head, to get a better view. He winced as Malachi spat out a curse, and saw the mess it was. An entire patch of hair on the back of his head was stained scarlet; this was entirely thanks to a piece of glass, about the size of a half-dollar, embedded into his skull. Fortunately, it hadn't gone all the way in, or Malachi would have been-- Mamoru shuddered, not wanting to think about it.

Mamoru turned his head to look at Neff, then Zory. Well, they'd already seen him use most of his powers. What was one more? Not caring about how much energy he had already drained from himself, he closed his eyes and waited until his hands glowed golden.

"What are you--" Zory started to ask, but stopped when Mamoru began to work his hands around in Malachi's hair. He began to heal the deep wound with one hand, while working the shard of glass out of his head with the other.

Malachi seemed to be trying very hard not to scream as the stubborn chunk of glass was slowly pulled free from his scalp. He gripped the edge of the bed so hard that his knuckles turned white. At last it slid into Mamoru's fingers, and he quickly covered the wound with his other hand to hold off any further bleeding. Using both hands now, he healed it the rest of the way, until all that remained was a sticky tangle of partially-dried blood.

Zory stared wide-eyed as the light faded from Mamoru's hands. "How..."

"Is it any wonder why I'm a medical student?" he muttered, unceremoniously dropping the piece of glass onto the desk and wiping the blood from his hands.

"No, I suppose it isn't." Neff spoke, for the first time since Mamoru had entered the room. He tossed the man a towel, and Mamoru wiped the blood off his hands.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Malachi asked, releasing the bed from his tight grip. The matress creaked, almost in relief, and sprung back to its normal shape.

Mamoru snorted. "Oh, there's plenty I can't do. Those girls you saw tonight were nothing but pathetic clones of the originals. The real Sailor Jupiter could have pounded me into the pavement without so much as breaking a sweat--and she probably wouldn't have collapsed afterward. I'm little more than the pitiful prince who is easily brainwashed and can barely protect his own girlfriend at the best of times."

Malachi stared at him. "You know, for someone with such extraordinary powers, you have an incredible lack of self esteem."

"Hey, I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." Mamoru stopped wiping his hands, and just looked at them. "I never finished the long version of my story, which includes yours truly being killed, brainwashed, and/or maimed every time a new villain comes along. I'm going to start needing more fingers to count exactly how many times I've been completely useless."

"You call what you just did 'useless?'"

"Believe it or not, I haven't had the ability to destroy evil demon clones for very long. In fact, I've only been doing it for about 12 hours."

"Well then, it's a good thing that the psychotic Pikachu didn't show up yesterday, or I'd be quite fried right now."

Mamoru tossed the towel aside and returned to rooting through the first aid kit. Malachi's most urgent wound had been healed, but the rest would have to be taken care of the old fashioned way. Mamoru was not sure he had the strength left to heal anything else tonight, and rather preferred not collapsing in the middle of Malachi's bedroom. He scrutinized Malachi's t-shirt, wondering how to get it off without causing any extra pain, and finally settled the matter by cutting it open with a pair of scissors.

"I liked that shirt," Malachi grumbled.

"I'll get you a new one."

"That happens to be the shirt you stole from me," Neff added, but he was pretty much ignored by everyone.

Malachi hissed quietly as Mamoru tended to his various cuts with aniseptic and bandages. The dark haired man was doing an expert job at tending to him; the guilt for getting him into this mess was apparent on his face.

Mamoru leaned over the white haired man, as he bandaged his arm. "I'm sorry, Malachi. It's my fault you're in this shape."

"Hey, it's not your fault I sauntered into your little fight. You told me to go back."

"Yeah, but none of this would have happened if I hadn't shown up here in the first place." He sighed, brushing his black bangs away from his eyes. "I'm beginning to think that I should have never come to university at all. I can't seem to survive on my own for more than a week. I need a bunch of teenage girls to come to my defense."

"It would be one thing if you needed a bunch of wimpy, brainless teenage girls to come to your defense. But the way it's been described to me, they're fighters, and powerful ones at that. What's so bad about depending on them?"

Mamoru secured the last bandage. "That's just it. I hate depending on others. I need to be able to do things for myself, whether it be cooking my own food, doing my own taxes, or saving my girlfriend. So far, I'm only two for three."

"Well you've got one up on Neff, anyway," Zory said with a grin. "He has difficulties with cereal."

"This girlfriend of yours sounds like she needs rescuing almost as often as you do."

"Only because half the galaxy is after her. Or rather, her power. But that's the point: she is powerful, and she's proven repeatedly that she really doesn't need protection." He nearly shuddered to think of the stories he had heard about Galaxia, a woman who had snuffed out his life with barely a twitch of her eyelash, and how in the end, her powers had not even begun to compare to Usagi's. "And even on the rare occasion that she does need help, she's got eight able-bodied soldiers at her disposal."

"No disrespect intended, but if your girlfriend and her companions kick so much ass, what's your job? Exactly?" Jed finally spoke up, having come back with a screwdriver to replace Malachi's door.

"I've been wondering the same thing for quite some time," Mamoru confided.

"Come on, Mamoru. You've got to be good for something."

"No, really. If you want to come right down to it, I think my sole purpose in life is to father a pink-haired 30th-century princess, but that won't be happening for another few years or so. So until then, I'm pretty sure I exist mostly to take up space. Like a knick-knack."

Everyone paused for a moment.

"I'm no psychologist, but I think you've got painfully low self-esteem when you start comparing yourself to the likes of paperweights and potpurri holders," Zory finally said. Neff and Jed nodded in agreement.

"Laugh all you want," Mamoru groused, gathering up the First Aid supplies, "but I'm not kidding you. The only successful thing I did in the last six months, before my arrival in California, was die in a fight where I was painfully outmatched. I lasted a whole three minutes."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Malachi said, shifting to one side to ease the pain in his shoulder, "but you don't look altogether dead to me."

"Again, you have my girlfriend to thank for that. Which is a good thing, because if there's one thing I seem to be good at, it's dying. I almost can't believe I've survived all these battles today. That's a new record for me." He snapped the first aid kit shut and wearily brought a hand to his head. "Man, what is with me today? I'm ranting to a bunch of strangers about being a Sailor Senshi. You guys probably don't even have a clue what I'm talking about."

"Actually, between the uber-women and the verbal self-abuse, I'm quite entertained." Jed grinned.

"Are any of these Sailor Senshi cute? Or single?" Neff raised one eyebrow, depositing the bloody glass in a wastebasket.

Mamoru laughed. "Some of them are."

"I bet they're much too smart to go out with you, Neff."

"When was the last time you had a date, Jed? Before midterms?"

"Look who's talking. You took Zory in drag to the spirit day rally."

"For the last time, that wasn't me!"

"How 'bout it, Mamoru? You could put in a good word for us with the sailor whatsits."

Mamoru could not help laughing. They reminded him so much of Minako and Makoto, chattering away about the latest drop-dead gorgeous male. Granted, the giggly duo would jump at the very mention of a few good-looking foreign guys, and he was sure that he'd have even Rei and Ami's attention. But he saw one very prominant snag in the whole idea, and he was not sure how to break it to them. "I'm not sure they would go for the idea," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully.

"See Neff? Told you you'd scare 'em."

"And why not?" Neff asked, attempting to ignore Jed.

"Because, well..." Mamoru's hesitation only increased their focus on him, and he knew there was no way he could back out now. "Because you look exactly like our former enemies, that's why."

The silence in the room was thick enough to cut.

"We...what?" Malachi finally spoke.

Mamoru rubbed his temple with one hand, looking at the floor as though it was a faraway country. "They weren't always enemies. They were on our side for ... for as long as I could remember. But they were killed, brainwashed by the enemy, and then they weren't..."

"They weren't my Shitennou anymore..." Mamoru shook himself. "In the end, the Senshi managed to defeat them, and the Dark Kingdom. But if they found out that my new frat buddies looked like their long-dead rivals from two years past, I can think of one very irate blonde who would threaten my manhood and any other of my body parts she could take off with a sword."

"So the person you mistook me for today was..."

"Kunzite. The leader."

"...I don't get it," Jed said blankly. "How could we..."

"I don't know, alright? And neither do they."

Zory blinked. "They?"

"The Shitennou. They... well, they aren't altogether dead, let's just say that. They protect me, with what little power they have left."

"Did someone call me?"

"...that's the second time I've heard my voice come out of your pants," Malachi said warily.

Mamoru slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Well, as long as I'm making a total idiot out of myself..."

"That's actually Jed's area of expertOW!" Zory's quip was cut short when Jed "accidentally" elbowed him in the ribs. All four men watched intently, some amusedly, as Mamoru put his hand into his pocket.

He held out four small, gliterring stones, for everyone to view.

"...Prince? Are these the people you were telling me about?"

"You've been talking about us with inanimate objects?"

"Hey," Jadeite snapped, which caused Jed to jump back, "I'll have you know that we're very animate! Why, just earlier, Zoisite and I were playing a game of Who Could Fall Off the Table First."

"Congratulations Jed," Zory said, attempting to hold back his laughter. "You've just been chewed out by a disgruntled piece of jade."

"I'll show you disgruntled, ya little--" Jadeite made a disturbingly high jump from Mamoru's palm, making Zory yelp. Mamoru, who was quite unafraid of possessed gemstones, caught him with the other hand.

"Hey, no more of that. I don't want to have to fix you again."

"Even Jed's inanimate counterpart is an idiot," Neff said, smirking.

"Amen to that," Nephrite grumbled. Neff's smirk lessoned a little, which caused the stone to laugh.

"I am not!" Jadeite and Jed shouted at the same time, which caused Jed to blush and Nephrite to roll over and nudge his equally small friend.

"I am not," Jadeite sulked.

Malachi winced as he sat up to get a better view of the stones. "They're quite amusing, Mamoru, but that piece of spodumene doesn't look a thing like me."

"Oh, right. C'mon out, guys." The hand that held the stones began to glow golden, and suddenly Mamoru was surrounded by four apparitional figures, each clad in a white military uniform with a dark brown cape. The four men, who had been leaning over to watch the stones, leapt back in surprise. Both Zory and Jed were attempting to hide behind Neff, who attempted to inch closer to the door. Malachi, who was in no condition to hide even if he wanted to, simply stared at them wide-eyed. "These are my Shitennou," Mamoru said, a hint of pride in his voice.

------

[1] We mean that in a very platonic way, thank you. (Anne: S-hime, stop laughing.)

Okay. So, um, really, we don't support Mamoru/Malachi slash. But the innuendos are too fun to write. You'll forgive us, right? Right? Good.

[2] No, we did NOT swipe that from the song! We swiped it from the Musicals! (That really is an attack, by the way. It just doesn't look quite like we described.)

...this chapter got a little out of hand. But then, it's an Evil Authoress Inc. production; they all do that.

Alternate ending to this chapter:

"These are my hoes," Mamoru said, a hint of pride in his voice.

(If you've read S-hime's site, this will make a lot of sense. If not, well, it's still funny. And to clear this up, her site is not about Endymion and his hoes, although it very well could be, if Anne was in charge of it more often.)

See you next time, space cowboy!