Subject to Change Chapter 31: From Whence Hatred Springs, a sailor moon fanfic

Disclaimer: I would never even deserve to own Sailor Moon after how long this story has been left to rot. Granted, it was more like aging than rotting, I would think. Pretend this was just a long break the story needed to mature like wine. (Winces as readers throw 'matured' fruit.)

A quick refresher summary of the last couple chapters: Sailor Moon has been deemed a traitor by Luna, who believes that Sailor Moon is working for the Dark Kingdom. Why? Because Sailor Moon confronted Luna with the fact that the Sailor Senshi's souls were sold for the princess. How else could Serena know that piece of highly classified information if she was not a traitor?

In truth, Sailor Moon learned about this from Zoicite, who also told her that her bond with the princess would send her to hell. These thoughts have hovered on the edge of Serena's mind like vengeful ghosts, but nothing has yet surfaced to discount, confirm, or explain them. So her mind continues to uneasily avoid the thought that she will go to hell and that her own soul doesn't belong to her.

Another motive behind Luna believing Serena to be traitor is that she believes Sailor Moon was the blonde figure she remembers killing her husband Artemis at the Silver Millennium's end.

Actually, it was blonde Sailor Venus who killed Artemis as a result of Queen Beryl threatening to kill her soulmate Malachite. While all the other warriors on the moon died, Sailor Venus was taken by Beryl and put into a long sleep for the past thousand years. Her body wasted away until she was little more than a skeleton, but her soul remained imprisoned within it.

When Sailor Moon used her newest attack, Moon Twilight Flash, to heal Sailors Mars and Mercury from a youma's mental influence over them, she also inadvertently healed Malachite of Beryl's brainwashing as well. The only way for Beryl to maintain control over Malachite was to bring Venus back to life and use her life as collateral. Beryl used dark magic given to her by Metallia to breathe new life into Venus's body. She now has control over both Malachite and Venus by threatening to kill the other if one disobeys. She sends Venus out to take control of the Senshi Mars and Mercury to find the Moon Princess and her crystal. Venus, who hopes to defeat Beryl with the help of her Senshi sisters, is sorely devastated to discover that the reincarnations of her Senshi do not have the power, knowledge, or control her Silver Millennium Senshi did.

Even more troubling to Venus is the presence of the self-named Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask, both of whom have displayed more power than Mars and Mercury but neither of whom Venus can remember being in the Silver Millennium. She fears that they are agents of either Beryl or the High Senshi. Either way, they are not on her side – so she goes after them with a bloodthirsty vengeance, severely wounding both Moon and Mask. Tuxedo Mask heals with his golden sparks, however – alerting Venus and Beryl that Tuxedo Mask is none other than the reincarnation of Prince Endymion of Earth. The prince who seduced Venus's princess and brought about the fall of the Moon Kingdom and Silver Millennium.

Though Venus remembers what Endymion did, she cannot remember him. Nor can she remember the princess. Neither can Malachite, Luna, or the Senshi. Sailor Pluto had blocked away all of their memories of the princess to secure her safety.

But Beryl, always warm for Endymion's form and believing that he will know the whereabouts of the Moon Princess and her crystal, has now commanded Sailor Venus and Malachite to capture Tuxedo Mask. They do not know Tuxedo Mask's civilian identity, but they do know Sailor Moon's, and they will use that to their advantage…

Subject to Change

Chapter Thirty-One: From Whence Hatred Springs

After she first met Asanuma that night at her father's party, Rei had hoped each day to see him again. Many days passed without any granting of this wish.

Then she saw him again the day after her first transformation into Sailor Mars. She had gone for the first time into a little arcade in the middle of town to meet Serena and Ami. She entered it after school, and there he was. Sitting at the counter laughing and joking with two guys and…Serena. And he was ruffling her hair.

Sailor Pluto would later pinpoint that moment as the very second the chance there was for Serena to thaw Rei's heart flew out the window. From that moment on, she viewed Serena as the epitome of all that she wanted to be and all that she wasn't: small and blonde and cheerful and happy and surrounded by friends. Serena did not know hatred nor loneliness, and Rei began to hate her for it. It wasn't fair that she, who already had so much, got the position of leader, too.

That was why so readily believed Luna when she said that Serena had betrayed them.

She had WANTED to believe it.

"Look at her," said Rei bitterly one day. "What's wrong with all of them? Can't they see past all that pretty blonde hair?"

Ami shifted nervously and did not speak.

"I don't think it's fair," Rei continued, eyes narrowing. "All her life, she's had it easy. A family, a house, clothes, friends – why does she get everything? What makes her so special that everything gets handed to her on a silver platter? It's not enough for her to have her OWN boyfriend, no, she has to go and hog all the other boys, too, and they just love to FAWN over her."

Ami opened her mouth, but Rei went on. "When I was little, I used to go to sleep at night, and every night, I'd wish for someone to love me. I sweat and cry and BLEED every night – and what do I get? Nothing. She sits and eats and talks and sleeps all day like a PIG. But what does she get? Does she get nothing? No! People love her anyways, they buzz around her like freakin' honey bees!"

"Rei?" said Ami tentatively, for Rei's voice was breaking, and she was crying and sniffling. But she shoved Ami away.

"All I ever wanted is someone who would love me!" she cried angrily, painfully. "Just a friend! I want someone I can go to the mall with and talk to! I've never had a friend in my life, and even with all the sacrifices I make, I STILL don't get one. Serena on her butt and she has FIFTY! How is that fair?"

Rei's voice splintered into sobs. Ami, after a long moment's hesitation, reached out to pat her shoulder uncertainly, but Rei wrenched away.

"Leave me alone!" she said, voice muffled by her hands. "Just buzz off, Ami!"

After Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Jupiter rushed off with Serena, there was utter silence in the park. Sailor Venus stood very still with her back to Mars and Mercury. She had dropped her hand from where she had stretched out to Sailor Jupiter. her shoulders so tensely coiled that her shoulder blades jutted out like the stumps of amputated wings.

As for Mars and Mercury, shock glued them to their spots. Mars was still in disbelief that she had just seen Venus crack a teenage girl's skull open – of course, it was Serena, but still. A little fear trickled into her bloodstream.

She scowled at herself for feeling frightened of some blonde and quickly chased down the unease with bravado: I would have done the same thing. Serena is a traitor, after all, a danger to the princess. It was a strange mixture of jealousy and fear. And anxiety, that little thought niggling in the corner of her mind – Serena won't really die, will she?

Before, they had been playing a game of chess with themselves as the pieces, but only the youma had been the pawns. They were the only ones who disappeared from the board. But if Serena died…they could, too. They could die.

Mercury's eyes were fastened to the spot Serena had knelt in. Her hand was still open as though Serena's had never left it. Drops of Serena's spattered blood decorated her waxen face like little red beads.

Not one of the Senshi moved until at last a black shape rustled out of the bushes. "Well!" it hissed unhappily, twisting its neck unhappily to lick at the bruising scrape at its ear. "I must say, I never!"

Mars' and Venus's heads turned towards the shadow: Luna. She frowned reproachfully at them. Mars could practically see the abuse forming on her tongue: why weren't you able to deal with Sailor Moon?

And indeed, Luna's next words were "Where are the traitors?"

Mars looked over at Venus, expecting her to jump at the chance of recounting her defeat of the "great" Sailor Moon. Rei would have, if it was her. But Venus was gazing through Luna as though not even seeing her.

"Venus whipped Moon's ass," Mars said at last. "Look at the blood." She tilted her head towards the still motionless Mercury.

Luna padded towards the area. "For goodness' sake, Mercury, get up." She mincefooted delicately around the blood-dampened patch of grass, staring at it but apparently reluctant to come close to it. She stopped beside Mercury and looked up at Mars. "So then she's…" The cat paused. Was she stumbling over the words? "Dead?"

Venus's voice joined the conversation. "I wouldn't count on it."

Mars looked at her. "But you practically split her head open!"

Venus speared Mars with a scornful blue glance. "Which means nothing if she's Senshi, as I am beginning to very strongly suspect she is."

"Well, of course she's Senshi!" Venus's obvious derision had set fire to Mars' short temper, and she returned Venus's disdain with interest. "How else would she have a glowing tiara?"

"You are a novice indeed if you take a simple glow spell to be proof of Senshi powers," Venus said icily. Her belief that Rei Hino was the Sailor Mars she had known had shattered. She was grinding the shards of that delusion beneath her heel even as she rubbed contempt into Rei's face. "A three-year-old could carry out that spell." She glanced disgustedly at Luna. "The holes in their education are large enough to fall through, Luna."

Luna bristled. "It's rather difficult to teach something you can't remember, Sailor Venus!"

"Whatever!" Mars interrupted angrily. "So what if Serena's a Senshi or not, she still can't walk away from an attack that busted her brains out!"

"Oh, don't tell me." Venus stared hard at Luna. "It's common knowledge!"

"What is?" Mars demanded. Her patience was wearing very thin.

As was Venus's. Instead of answering Mars with words, she used action. With a twist of her fingers, a crescent beam materialized that shot out and lanced a hole through Mars' palm.

Speechlessly, Mars lifted her palm in front of her face and stared in shock at the saucer-sized hole in her flesh. Venus stared back at her through it.

Venus raised an eyebrow at her. "Wait a few moments," she said.

Mars did not wait a moment. She flung herself at Venus with nails and threats flying. Venus merely summoned her chain and snapped it out so that it pinned Mars to a tree.

Mars writhed beneath the chain's grip, spitting out curses. Venus watched her, a pained, confused sort of expression furrowing her face, for a few moments. Finally, she approached Mars and moved the chain to free her injured hand.

Except for it was not injured anymore.

"Observe?" Venus lifted the hand to Mars' flushed face. Unmarked skin peeked out from beneath the singed hole in the glove. Mars' cursing deflated into a shocked exhalation.

Venus showed Mars' hand to an equally incredulous Luna. "Senshi healing powers."

"You mean Serena's not going to die?"

The shaky voice startled all of them, even Venus. They had all practically forgotten Mercury was still present. And all of them frowned at the obvious concern in her voice for the rogue Senshi.

"Actually," Venus said, releasing both Mars' hand and Mars herself (from the chain's grip). "If you did not know about our healing powers, she would probably not know about them, either, and thus would not use them. You usually immediately detransform, do you not?"

Mercury nodded slowly once.

"Then she would probably not be healing." Mercury's eyes dimmed, her chin falling dejectedly to her chest. "Except that…" Venus squinted into the sunset. "I have suspicions that she is not the novice she appears to be. That may be just a cover; I suspect that she is actually an experienced Senshi sent from the High Council."

Venus's eyes fell from the sunset to their blank faces. "But of course that is just Andromeadean to you," she said, the scorn in her voice mingled with resignation and unhappiness.

"It won't be if you explain yourself," said Luna, a little sharply.

Venus actually seemed to flinch a little. She avoided Luna's eyes, took a step back. "I…I have to go," she said, and suddenly vanished. Just like that.

Luna hissed. "I don't trust her!"

Mars was silent. She turned her hand over in front of her eyes, flexing it, studying it.

Maybe she, Mercury, and Serena had just been pawns from the beginning. Insignificant pieces to play the Sidney Cartiers for the more important rooks and bishops. In her mind's eye, Mars could still see the immense power pouring off of Sailor Venus's aura when she attacked. Venus was certainly no pawn. She was a bigger player: a rook perhaps, or a knight.

Wasn't there a way for pawns to become more powerful players? Or maybe that was in checkers. No matter. Mars planned to become a higher player. And Venus was going to be the one to teach her how.

Malachite's heart was jumping strangely in his chest as he teleported blindly from the belly of Beryl's subterranean abode. He moved jerkily and slowly as though in a strobe light. He felt as if someone was switching the power to his body on and off.

Images of Endymion and his fellow generals on those golden days on Terra swirled in his mind with the golden spires of the Venusian castle and Minako's golden hair. Then the silver glow of the Moon Palace's domed towers polluted the mix – Jadeite Endymion raised eyebrows snow patching mountains Nephrite black sky blue sky green slopes scored armor choking smoke burning wood Minako Artemis Minako Endymion Minako Endymion Minako –

He tumbled from the teleportation vortex and pitched face-first into something gritty and yielding. It dug under his fingernails and conformed to his body.

It was cool, like a stone in shade. Soft.

Whooshes whispered at the edge of his hearing.

He forced himself up. The ocean sighed before him.

His heart within him steadied and slowed. His life current had stabilized.

And then it jumped again when he spotted the shadow silhouetted against the moon-gilded waves – but no, it was just his heart leaping like it always did when he saw her.

"Mi…"

His approach was like that of a seagull hopping cautiously past a sunbather: eager to snatch up an abandoned morsel of bread but muscles tensed and ready for flight if the human made a motion toward him.

"You and I are not something I can think about right now, Malachite." Her voice was quiet as the waves, but he heard her perfectly. How could he not? His every sense was tuned to her. That was why he could tell that her tone was like the sand: hard when you first stepped on it, but quickly sinking and giving way beneath you. She was trying to sound firm, but he knew her too well, detected the shakiness in her voice.

But the last thing he wanted was to make things harder for her.

At the same time, they were bonded from their very souls. How could they ever be better off apart than together?

"You and I are not something I can stop thinking about, Minako," he said at last.

"We have a mutual problem, then."

He took a step closer to her. "We have mutual everything, Minako."

For a long time, she did not answer him. She only stared straight ahead, at the moonlight glowing on the surface of the water. It ran like a path from the shore to the horizon – like a path Minako could step onto and follow to disappear into the stars. Leaving him.

At last she inhaled deeply. "That would make everything much easier, if it were true." Her arms wrapped around her bare arms. She wore her Senshi fuku now, as she had almost constantly since Beryl had awakened her. It was like an outward manifestation of the armor she had drawn around her psyche. "Then we would have two minds to work on each problem – instead, I think we seem to be butting heads."

Malachite compressed his lips. "Endymion," he said simply, knowing immediately that his defense of the coveted prince was what she referred to.

"I will capture him."

He watched her fists clench tightly at her side. He reached for them, his chest constricting. If he only touched her they would find a way to right things –

Minako turned her head just enough to spear him with warning eyes. Shock chilled his bones as he saw her lashes quivering, mouth trembling. His Minako looked as though she might crumble into a million pieces at any moment. He loosened his clammy grip on her gloved hands immediately, afraid that he might break her like a china doll.

"I have to capture him." The repetition, that replacement of "will" with "have to." She was pleading with him to understand why she was doing this.

But beneath it lurked the question: Are you with me or not?

He didn't answer that question. Instead he asked one of his own. "Because of your princess?"

She turned away from him, swiping away her tears, crossing her arms tightly. "In Beryl's hands, he won't be able to interfere with our search. Once Beryl has her hands on him, she'll be distracted by…other things. She won't pay as much attention to us or our search for the princess. " A grim smile creased her wet face as she concluded, "And it is certainly poetic justice to deliver him into the hands of the same witch he fed us to."

"Endymion had nothing to do with Beryl," countered Malachite carefully. This argument was familiar territory by now between them, but Minako seemed to have only three thin threads still holding her puppet of a body up. To find the princess again. To exact bloody vengeance upon Endymion. To stay with Malachite. But that thread seemed to be fraying, he was afraid.

But what wasn't he afraid of these days?

He stumbled on. "Endymion fought Beryl more fiercely than anyone – "

"But you didn't, did you?"

Those few words, delivered in a soft, nonchalant voice, seared into Malachite like seawater into a wound.

He retreated into himself. He would not defend himself, for there was no excuse for his weakness in losing to Beryl.

"I have offered up all the apologies I can on that," he said quietly. Now it was he who would not look at her. "And I know they will never be enough. But this isn't about what I did wrong, it's about what Enydmion didn't do wrong. The Fall of Silver Millennium wasn't his fault, Minako."

"He corrupted the princess!" Minako's voice was wild, verging on sobs. He hesitated to speak more, lest he cut those thin threads that held her up. "If she had not fallen for him – "

"It takes two to tango, Minako," he wrestled with himself to say. "The princess could have spurned him. But did she? No. Why? Because she could no more have denied her love for him than you could have killed me instead of Artemis!"

His blurted out words left a deathly vacuum. Only the whoosh of the ocean could be heard for a long time.

Then at last Minako slapped him.

"Don't speak of that," she said in a hard voice. "Don't you dare."

But there were more tears than threat in her voice. Her body was shaking again, as though struggling against some creature trying to tear free of her flesh.

Malachite spoke before his fear could capture his words. "Why?" he demanded. "Because you regret it?"

"Yes!" Minako's voice was choked, clogged. "I regret everything I did that day! Everything!"

Her gloved hands pressed against her face as a racking sob escaped her. It was as though she were trying to push the cries back inside her body. She let herself fall to the sand.

"Nothing went right that day…" Her hopeless voice rose. "I should just have been killed too and been reincarnated with the rest of my Senshi and then this never would have happened – "

"Minako!" Fear soaked his voice like blood soaking cloth. He was panicking; she was leaving him, she was leaving him, she was shattering and he needed to grab her and press her together in his sweating palms – if only his love was glue –

"Why didn't we just die, Malachite?" She was looking at him now, and now that she was not looking at the moonlight's path on the water, shadow had swallowed her eyes.

Again, he didn't answer her. Instead he cast about for an anchor as her head drooped forward to loll against his shoulder. Anything to keep her with him.

"I'm not…who I was, Malachite." Her voice was stumbling, thick. Like a child speaking through a drugged sleep, like a phantom speaking through the fog of time. "I don't know who I am anymore."

"You're Minako," Malachite told her firmly, though his heart hammered in his chest. "You're Minako." He stared down at her, wondering what he would do without her. How horrible the world would be without her. Images flooded his mind, and spewed from his mouth: "If you had died that day, Beryl would have consumed this planet months ago! You would have grown up just like Mars and Mercury and Jupiter, weak, ignorant of your real powers. You've seen how they've been mutilated by their lives here, Minako. The same would have happened to you, and then you would all be dead and I would still be under Beryl's control." His fingers trembled as this dismal painting of what could have been hung before his mind's eye. He gripped her elbow, so thankful, so thankful that she was here with him, cruel as the circumstances might be.

"But now, Minako, now there's a chance! You can teach the Senshi, you can lift them to their old power levels. With you alive, there's a chance. With you, they'll be able to find the princess; with you, they can kill Beryl."

He seized her other elbow and spun her to look at him. "Don't you see, Mi?"

She was looking at him now, her blue eyes flooding. "I can't, Malachite. Don't you see? I – I'm not who I was. I don't know who I am anymore, without my Senshi, I can't find my path, I'm weaving all over like a drunk. The Senshi were my anchors, and now they're gone, and I'm just…alone."

"No, you're not alone, Minako, you're not!" He hugged her tightly. "I'm here!" His voice held a frightened sort of uncertainty, as though he were not sure if he really was there or not, as though he were saying, Aren't I?

It was the same question Minako was asking herself.

I'm here...

Aren't I?

It was early. As in, still dark early. The time in the morning when you were sure the world was just as dark as it looked.

Lita was awake. She was always awake at this time of the morning, and she hated it. Her alarm clock was never set earlier than seven o'clock, but her internal clock had never in her life allowed her to sleep past five forty-five.

It was the reason that she had taken up cooking. Well, one of the reasons (the other being that it was in her genes: both her parents had studied cuisine in France). Memories surfaced like lake monsters in the empty darkness of five forty-five in the morning, and she had needed something to take her mind off of them. So she started watching those cooking shows the networks broadcast at that time of morning (along with Ab-Cruncher commercials) because no one is awake to watch them. When she had been watching for so long that all the episodes were reruns and she knew the recipes by heart, she kept cooking but started investing in PayPerView. A good ninety minute movie usually filled the time from when she woke up until time to go to school, and it wasn't like the trust fund her parents had left her wasn't bottomless.

Serena's house, unfortunately, didn't have a television in the kitchen. And it was today, early Monday morning in Serena's quiet, dark, sleeping house, that Lita needed distraction almost as badly as she ever had in her life. She was flipping fried eggs in silence and thinking way, way, WAY too much.

Mina, so blonde and companionable in the library, then dusty and bloody and hard – "You are an ally of this youth?"

Serena, distracted and worried, paying far too much attention to Shields and far too little to herself and the blonde before her – "Ally? Yeah – yes. Allies. That's us."If only Serena had lied, if only she hadn't admitted that she was allied with Tuxedo Mask, if only she hadn't gotten tangled up with Shields in the first place – then all this never would have happened, she wouldn't have gotten hurt –

And just like that, it was suddenly Darien Shields' fault that Serena had nearly died. Forget that he had been the one to heal Serena. Mina hadn't threatened Serena until she said that she was allies with Tuxedo Mask.

It was Shields' fault.

This is the danger of five forty-five in the morning. The world right before dawn, when the sky is dark and starless and moonless and sunless, is a quagmire. It sucks you down. You grab at any straws you can because they're the only chance you have; you accept things that aren't true because you're desperate. The mud closes on top of you with those straws still gripped in your claws, and in the darkness, they're all you can feel, so you grip them all the tighter.

A person could go insane at five forty-five in the morning.

The eggs were done. Their salty smell was making Lita a bit nauseous – or maybe it was the realization she'd just had – but she started the bacon anyways. The fatty strips crackled and sizzled in the grease, bubbles popping like thoughts.

There was more. In Darien's apartment, after he returned from grocery shopping and Serena woke up, while they were in the living room watching TV and eating, Lita had gone to pack up some of the groceries to take to Serena's house. She remembered that the rest of the tiramisu – granted, there was precious little left after Serena had gotten ahold of it – was still in Shields' bedroom.

So she went to get it. And get it she did. But when she picked it up from the semi-cluttered desktop it has been placed on, some papers fluttered from beneath it to the floor.

With a long-suffering sigh, Lita had bent to pick them up. Her eyes caught the words and the pretentious logo in the corner – Yale University – and that was all the temptation she needed. Other people would have called it nosy, but that thought did not even occur to Lita. Nosiness? What was that?

She scanned the letter, glanced at the forms attached to it. Felt a strange mixture of fury, indignation, dread, and relief bubbling into her all at once.

Shields was leaving at summer's end to go to school in America. What a coward, to leave Serena here to deal with not only the Dark Kingdom but the Senshi! And he better have told Serena. This was too huge an event to keep from her. What would happen when he was gone, though? Would she and Serena be able to handle the youma and the Senshi? Of course they would, she decided. Tuxedo Mask wasn't such hot stuff. In fact, he was the whole damn reason Serena got hurt! Good that he was going…even if it was going to break Serena's heart.

Grease leapt with a startlingly loud crackle! from the pan. Lita roused herself from her heavy thoughts and maneuvered the bacon strips with her spatula like an army general arranging troops on the battlefield.

"Oh. Thought there was a fire or something."

Lita glanced to the kitchen doorway. Shields stood there, looking very hastily dressed. The tails of his starched shirt hung untucked, and a shoe dangled from one hand, its mate on a foot but with laces untied.

She felt irritated by his assumption – and by his mere presence, even. Why was he here? Why did he insist on staying at Serena's? He said it was to protect her, but if that was so, he wouldn't be leaving her for a mere college.

Hypocrite.

"I know how to cook, thanks," she said shortly.

Had she not turned her back on him to face the stove once more, she would have seen him lifting his eyebrows. As it was, she heard him walk into the dining room and pull out a chair to sit.

She glanced out the window – still dark – then at the clock. Six o'clock. School didn't start until eight – it was going to be a long morning.

And a silent one. Neither Lita nor Darien was the sort of person to talk unless coaxed into conversation. Namely by Serena.

Twice, Lita considered going upstairs to wake up Serena, if only to break the silence. This thought was immediately dismissed (too selfish). Then she decided to go watch the news. However, when she entered the living room, there was Darien on the couch, intently watching a report on an oil spill near Alaska. She quickly swung around back to the kitchen, pretending that she'd only come for a look out the front window. ("Good, no one stole the grass overnight.")

So the pile of bacon and fried eggs grew higher and higher and were eventually joined by stacks of pancakes.

At long last, Serena came shuffling into the kitchen. Her hair was mussed and she still wore her pajamas. "Yum," she yawned, gravitating toward the steaming pancakes.

As though alerted by a Dumpling-Detector, Shields poked his head into the kitchen.

"Get dressed first, Odango."

Irritation spiked again in Lita like a nettle. "She can eat when she wants," she said sharply, piling food onto a plate for her friend. "You're not her boss."

"Nor are you her mother," countered Shields, stiff-lipped.

"If I was, you wouldn't have spent the night here," Lita started to say, but got only so far as "was." Her words died in her mouth as Serena yawned past her towards the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"It's late," Serena mumbled, still drowsily. "I should get dressed."

She disappeared up the stairs. Shields smirked.

Lita turned pointedly away, simmering. Was Serena just a TOY to him? The way he bossed her around pissed her off, the way he acted like he knew what was best for her, the way she always listened to him, the way she always defended him – every single think about this bastard pissed her off.

"Lita?"

Lita shoved down her thoughts and turned to face Serena, who had just come back into the kitchen. "Yeah?"

Serena was only half dressed: she wore her pink pajama top with her blue school skirt and her school shirt was in her hands as though she'd been about to put it on but then suddenly felt the urgent need to run down here instead.

"I just wanted to thank you," Serena said, hugging her tightly. "For helping and…understanding. For trusting me – even though I didn't tell you everything. It means so much to me."

Her voice was cracking a little, and Lita's mind went to Rei, Ami, and Luna, who hadn't trusted her.

She knew what it was like not to be trusted.

Serena sniffed and pulled back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get your uniform all wet."

"Not a prob." Lita looked down at Serena, at her tear-reddened eyes, and smoothed back her hair. How could Shields leave her? "I'll always trust you, Serena. And you can always trust me."

Lita felt goosebumps shiver up her skin as a sense of déjà vu washed over her. This felt almost familiar – these words that almost sounded like a vow of fealty. She shook it off and finished, "I promise. Now go get dressed before I start sounding like something off Lifetime."

Serena cracked a grin. Lita waved her off with the spatula, then started placing the food on plates.

Half an hour later, Serena was groaning as they walked up the school's front walk.

"I feel like a pregnant woman!" she moaned, clutching her stomach. "Lita, I'm so full!"

"Quite a feat, considering Odango's stomach is a black hole," Darien said, holding the door for them.

Lita ignored his joke, not only because she was angry with him but because her attention had been caught by the huge poster hanging in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, her heart stopping in her chest. "I totally forgot!"

"What?" Serena grabbed Lita's arm with one hand and her brooch with the other.

"The PROOOOOOOOOOM!" Lita groaned. "It's on FRIDAY!"

"So?" Darien raised an eyebrow, not seeing why this was such a big deal. Both girls ignored him.

"Friday!" repeated Lita in despair, letting her head drop onto Serena's shoulder. "That's in FOUR DAYS! Serena, I don't even have a dress…"

"It's okay, it'll be okay." Serena patted her friend's head comfortingly. "You'll see. We'll go to the mall after school today and find a killer gown and I'll do your hair, and we'll tell Toki to buy your corsage – it'll be fine, Lita!"

"All the dresses will be gone!" Lita said stubbornly. She frowned suddenly. "I shouldn't even go. Those witches'll still be after you, and no way am I leaving you alone with them on the loose… I'll tell Toki I can't go – "

"NO!"

Serena's eruption shocked Lita. Darien, who had been watching her inflate with self-righteousness for the past couple of seconds, was not as shocked, but still found Serena's forcefulness rather astonishing. (And kind of hot. But in a totally platonic way.)

"But – wha?" Lita tried clumsily.

"I said no." The fierceness of Serena's voice matched her hardened expression. "You are NOT telling Toki you can't go to prom. You are not SKIPPING it. We will go shopping today, we will find you a knock-dead gorgeous dress, you will go to the prom, and you will have FUN."

She speared Lita with her blue eyes, clearly awaiting a confirmation.

Finally, Lita managed, "Y-yes, ma'am."

"Good." Serena released Lita from her gaze and turned it full wattage on an amused Darien. "Now you. Go to class."

Darien returned her stare with a smirk. "You cow one Sailor Senshi and you suddenly think you can order me around?"

"Not think," said Serena. "Know."

Mrs. Karounen looked up when Darien walked into the classroom. "Why, Darien," she said, "You're on time today. How unusual."

Darien slumped down in his desk and rubbed his ear where Serena had dragged him down the hallway. "Don't rub it in."

Asanuma stood in front of his PE locker, staring at something. Darien, spinning his own lock open, leaned over to glance at what had so fixated him. The youth had not spoken to him yet, but Darien planned to have a talk with him before they went outside.

He had deeply pondered what to say. As he pondered, he had realized what Serena had and what he had not: that Asanuma's anger and unhappiness were partly their fault. He felt neglected and left-out in their group; Darien should have noticed and done something.

He leaned over and saw that the object of Asanuma's intense regard was a wilted, rather dry bouquet of flowers.

"What're those for?" Darien inquired.

Without looking up, Asanuma slammed his locker shut. "Nothing," he muttered and began to walk away.

"Hey." Darien caught him by the shoulder and spun him around. "Hey! Numa, what's your problem?"

Asanuma muttered something Darien did not catch.

"Look, man," Darien said. "I'm sorry. Okay? For everything. And Serena is, too. So, please, if you're going to be mad at someone, be mad at me and quit giving Serena the cold shoulder. She's really worried about you."

"Yeah, I know, okay?" Asanuma tore out of Darien's grip and glared at him. "I know I'm the bad guy! I'm the one who made Serena cry, God punish me, I'm Satan incarnate!" Color rose in his face. "I was going to apologize, okay?"

Instead of speaking, Darien just waited in silence.

Eventually, Asanuma uncurled. "Those flowers were for her," he muttered. "A – peace offering. But – I dunno. Stuff came up." Like Rei practically giving me frostbite with her cold shoulder.

"Then let's try again." Darien crossed to his locker, pulled out a spray of violets. He tossed them to Asanuma. "C'mon."

They found her outside, standing on her number, her back to them. Quite familiar with her moods, Darien could tell from the way her fingers were twirling in her hair that she was gazing into space.

He debated with himself for a moment, then gave Asanuma a kick in the shins. Asanuma shot him a venomous glare, then tripped over to Serena with the violets gripped tightly in his fist.

Darien did not follow. Had he been the one in Asanuma's place, he would not have wanted anyone to witness his apology (i.e., his groveling for forgiveness).

Instead, he averted his eyes to give Asanuma his privacy (i.e., dignity) and let his eyes roam the blacktop. Some wind raked its fingers through his hair, and he inhaled it absently, then looked sharply to the sky – but no, it wasn't raining. There wasn't even a cloud in sight in the bright blue spring sky.

So why did he have the feeling that a thunderstorm was rumbling up along the horizon?

A whistle split the air, and Darien dismissed the strange jolt of knowing he'd just felt in order to assume his number next to Serena. Asanuma was striding away as he reached it, and Serena was holding the bunch of flowers.

"Everything alright?" he asked, unnecessarily.

She nodded. "Yeah." She drew in a deep breath, as though inflating herself. Her shoulders rose slightly from their slump. "Yeah!"

He continued to watch her. There was some invisible, anonymous magnet drawing his eyes to her – and he didn't even notice he was doing it until she demanded "What?"

Darien blinked slowly. "What?"

"That's what I asked you." Serena scrutinized him. "Are you okay? Your eyes went all glazed, and you were staring at me."

Darien shook his head. "I… don't know." His hand rose to his forehead.

Serena still watched him worriedly, chewing on her lip. "What is it?"

"Just this…feeling," he said vaguely. He shook his head. "But it's stupid." He looked at the flowers in her hand. "Are you going to carry those around all class?"

Serena glanced down at them in surprise. "Umm…" she said. "No, I guess not. Stand in front of me, will you?"

Wordlessly, he took a step in front of her, slipping his hands nonchalantly into his pockets to block her from sight. After a moment, he heard her say, "Okay, I'm good. Thanks."

He moved back to his number. Serena's hands were now empty, the flowers having been safely deposited in her sub-space pocket.

"I know I've been sleeping for, like, the past two days," said Serena suddenly. "But I feel really tired. Almost…drained." She looked up at him, eyes widening reflexively as she stifled a yawn. "Do you think there's a youma around or something?"

"Hard to tell," Darien replied, smothering a yawn as well. It was scientifically proven that they were contagious, after all. "I have that feeling, too, but everyone else seems fine." He gestured to the students on the numbers around them: tapping their feet, hyperactively punching buttons on their hand-held games, playing complicated hand games, arm-wrestling, squealing over magazines.

"Is it from the battle, you think?" Fog slid across Serena's eyes again as she stared into space, her fingers coiling into her hair. "From healing?"

"I don't know," Darien admitted, and felt that same overpowering, smothering helplessness from the days before. His fists clenched.

"NUMBERS!" bellowed Coach Etoukou's unmistakable voice. He came striding towards their class, and Serena's arms dropped to her sides. "Everyone here? Good!" He tossed his clipboard over his shoulder. "We'll be doing track for the rest of the year – stop whining, girls, it means your legs'll look good in those prom dresses!"

The female students' groans were drowned out by the subsequent catcalls of the male students.

Anyone watching Serena and Darien – which Asanuma was – noticed that neither cracked a smile.

"Okay, stretches!" announced Coach. "Down to your toes – one two three four – your kneecaps aren't your toes, Daikuno! – five six seven eight – Tonami, keep your eyes on your feet and not the girl butt in front of you, boy! – nine ten! Now to the left! And right! Uuuuup – and good! Now down to the track! Go on, hustle!"

"I despise track," mumbled Serena unhappily, reaching up and trying – in vain – to keep her buns from 'un-bunning' as she jogged down to the track. (Her hair buns, of course.) "I'm going to skin my knees so bad…"

"Badly," corrected Darien beside her.

"Not listening!" Serena tried to loop up her trailing hair around what was left of her buns, but that only made them the size of balloons (very floppy balloons). AND they kept cascading down again.

Asanuma jogged past them singing "Do your buns hang low, do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow?"

"Grrrr," said Serena when he was out of earshot. But a smile graced her lips. Asanuma was making jokes again!

"Serves you right for having such long hair," Darien said.

"Still not listening!"

"Why don't you braid it?"

"'Cause then it's STILL too long!" Serena blew out her lips.

"Then braid it and wrap it around your head. And I thought you weren't listening?"

Ignoring that last comment, Serena said haughtily, "I don't have anything to keep the braid pinned around my head, genius. Bobby pins aren't exactly super glue."

"You braid it and I'll take care of the rest."

He received an archly suspicious glare. But her fingers moved quickly as a spider through her hair, braiding it and then coiling it around her head like a crown.

"What now, hot stuff?"

Darien didn't answer her. Both of them still jogging, he pulled the ends of the braid through the coil a couple of times and then fastened the whole work of art with a pair of flexibly stemmed roses (compliments of thin air).

"There," he said in satisfaction.

"What did you do?" asked Serena suspiciously. She moved her head experimentally, then shook it violently. Not a hair fell out of place. A smile burst open on her face as she marveled at the feeling. "Darien, spill!"

"Trade secret." Darien grinned. "But you're – "

"TSUKINOANDSHIELDS!" Coach was so used to yelling at them in unison that their names had become one word.

"WHAT, Coach?" the two shouted, spinning. Darien felt a minor surge of elation when, for once, Serena's hair didn't slap him in the face.

"GET DOWN HERE!" Etoukou bellowed. "I ALREADY BLEW THE STARTING WHISTLE!"

And so he had.

But our two heroes weren't much worried. They exchanged grins (more like sinister smirks, really) and took off.

As they ate up asphalt, Serena eventually gained a four meter lead on Darien. Darien was content to let her keep it for two reasons: firstly because from his position he could glare off all the males who had the idea to run behind Serena and enjoy the view and second, because much as he loathed admitting it to himself, he simply didn't have Serena's speed.

As they rounded the track a fourth time, he saw a figure approaching from the main campus buildings. Not all that intrigued, he paid it no attention until he rounded the track the fifth time. By now, the figure was close enough to be distinguishable.

It was Miss Lanai.

Darien sped up, closing the gap between him and Serena. To his surprise, it didn't take as long as he had expected for him to catch her. He was congratulating himself on his athletic prowess – who said nerds couldn't run? – until he saw that Serena, too, had noticed Miss Lanai and had slowed down to lessen her distance to him.

So now Serena's golden head was bobbing up and down beside his shoulder, and they were exchanging no words but had their eyes glued to Miss Lanai as she approached Coach Etoukou.

Lanai had reached Coach. She was talking, he was nodding…

Darien could hear his and Serena's feet slapping the pavement – should they slow down or speed up?

Lanai was turning, her arm lifting to point at something – someone – at them.

The two teachers were walking in their direction – Darien could feel rather than see Serena's pace slowing, as though surrendering to the inevitable. He matched her pace, step for step until their legs were moving in perfect unison and he was directly between Serena and the ever-nearing Lanai…

And then they passed her, and his back was stiffening, waiting for the inexorable shout of "Tsukino! Get back here, someone wants to talk to you!"

But the seconds stretched into minutes and he and Serena were rounding the heel of the track and still no one had called them.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed.

"Don't look now," he panted to Serena, "but she's talking to Asanuma."

"Asa - ?" Serena's head snapped towards Lanai; he caught her chin and directed her face back around before it could turn completely.

"I said don't look!" he half-moaned.

"So-rry." Serena shook her chin out of Darien's fingers. "What are they doing? How do they look?"

"They're shaking hands. Etoukou's slapping Asanuma on the back. Now Asanuma's…signing something? Yeah, he's definitely signing something. Selling his soul to Lanai, probably."

"Darien…"

"What else would he be signing something for?" Darien returned. "Lanai's no good. Now she's leaving, I think she's got the paper he signed. Asanuma's running again now."

"You don't think it has anything to do with us, do you?" Serena ventured anxiously – then answered herself. "No, of course not, he wouldn't do anything to hurt us."

"Not knowingly," said Darien, though doubt niggled in his mind.

"He wouldn't," said Serena confidently.

Darien voiced no dissension, but he added another item to his to-do list: ask Asanuma about Miss Lanai.

"Hey, guys," Serena greeted Motoki and Lita as she and Darien arrived at the Lunching Tree.

"Hey," said Motoki, glancing up – and then doing a double take. "Serena, is that you?"

"Um…I think so." Serena gave Motoki a weird look. Perhaps he was on medication from the doctor after the youma attack?

"I barely recognized you with that new hairstyle! It looks very nice."

"Oh." Serena reached up; she had forgotten that her hair was out of her usual buns. She still didn't know what Darien had done to it, come to think of it.

"Yeah, those roses really make a statement." Lita's voice dripped irony. Serena lifted a hand to feel her hair. Sure enough, there was the sensation of velvety petals brushing against her fingertips… "Did you do it yourself?"

"Yes!" Serena and Darien blurted out in unison.

Serena hurriedly plopped down in the grass. "Coach made us run today, so I had to put my hair up in something, um, less loose."

"Loose, huh?" repeated Lita with a cocked eyebrow.

"Lita!" Serena moaned, hiding her blush behind her hands. "Not like THAT!"

"And here I thought Asanuma had the monopoly on sadism," remarked Darien, settling himself against the tree's trunk. "Come on, Odango, where's your acid wit now?"

"Ooh, looks like I missed something good." Asanuma had arrived. "Who called me a sadist now?"

All heads swiveled towards Darien, who promptly let his head nod down to his chest and pretended to start snoring.

"Aw, it's no fun joshing him when he's asleep." Asanuma sighed and flopped back on the grass. It was the action of someone comfortable and at ease, but Serena, watching him closely, saw his Adam's apple jumping erratically in his throat. Asanuma was at anything BUT ease.

"Erm…" she cleared her throat. "So."

"So," said Motoki.

"La," trilled Lita sarcastically. "Ti, do!"

There was a pause.

"Wow, this awkward silence really calls for a smart comment," said Asanuma.

All their heads swiveled expectantly towards Darien.

But he wasn't moving other than his chest falling slowly up and down.

"Wow," said Motoki in awe. "I guess the Rottweiler really IS sleeping?"

Asanuma propped himself up on an elbow. "Well, since Darien's indisposed, I guess it falls to me to advise you, Lita, not to quit your day job."

"Ha. Ha," deadpanned Lita.

"Rottweiler's a new one," commented Serena thoughtfully. At her friends' puzzled looks, she clarified, "A new name for Darien, I mean."

"Oh." Motoki preened. "I'm quite proud of it. You know, Rottweiler 'cause they're guard dogs, and Darien's always so protective of you."

"I like Dare-Bear better," said Asanuma, a bit of his usual sparkle returning as he grinned mischievously – clearly expecting Darien to drop the charade of sleeping to growl at him.

But Darien didn't move. His chest rose up and down as serenly as ever, his eyes still beneath their lids, his face smoothed from its usual tension.

"No way!" exclaimed Asanuma and Motoki together. "Darien's really SLEEPING!"

"SHHH!" Serena glared imperiously at them. "You'll wake him up!"

The boys' eyebrows rose, and it was clear from their expressions what they were thinking: Aww. Serena was protecting her precious Dare-bear from them. How cute.

Serena paid them no heed and instead climbed to her feet. "I'll be right back," she told them.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Lita craned her head to catch Serena in her gaze. "Where do you think you're going?" Her eyes said what her mouth could not: Have you forgotten there's about a million bloodthirsty magic-users slavering for your neck?

"I'm just going to the BATHROOM." Serena wore the same determined, authoritative expression from that morning.

"I'll come with you." Lita shrugged out from under Motoki's arm and started to get up – until Serena planted a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her down again.

"I'll be right back. Stop worrying."

Was the restroom Serena's true destination?

Heck, no.

Instead, she made her way into the cafeteria, to the table where the juniors were selling Spring Fling tickets.

"You want to buy a ticket, Serena?" Kobayashi, one of Darien, Asanuma, and Motoki's classmates, gave her a wide grin.

"Yes, please," said Serena, pulling out the last of her manga money. Two months ago, she would have stared at the money mournfully before relinquishing it. It was a mark of how much she – and circumstances – had changed that she surrendered it without batting an eye.

"Here you go." Kobayashi handed Serena a ticket. "Save me a dance, huh, Serena?"

Serena nodded absently, pushing the ticket deep down in her pocket. Part One of the plan was complete – and tonight she would carry out Part Two.

Minako watched the golden buns weaving through the cafeteria crowd to the door. Then she made her way to the table that they had just left.

"Was that Serena Tsukino who just bought a prom ticket?" she asked of the boy sitting there, attention focused downward as he counted bills.

"Course it was, there aren't any other blondes in this school," the boy said jokingly, then finished counting the money and looked up. Minako had to admit that the look on his face was priceless. "Whoah! I mean, there weren't any others the last time I checked. You must be new." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Kobayashi."

"Mina." Minako reluctantly shook the Terran's hand. "I am new. So Serena is going to…Spring Fling?" she asked, reading the banner hung above Kobayashi's head.

"Well, she bought a ticket, didn't she?" Kobayashi wore a warm smile. "Please tell me you're going to buy one, pretty lady, so I can have a dance with you."

Ignoring the Terran's flippancy, Minako deliberated for a moment. Then, with a decisive nod, she said, "Give me two."

She had a plan.

Darien hadn't awoken while Serena was gone, thankfully. She sank into the grass beside Lita, and forestalled any questions by immediately jumping into conversation.

"Hey, Lita and me are going to the mall tonight. You guys wanna come?"

"Why not?" Motoki shrugged, twirling his fork absently. "It's not like I'll have any afterschool duties for a couple of weeks, anyway."

Their eyes swung expectantly towards Asanuma. He was fiddling with his blazer sleeves, not looking at them.

"You can't go shopping with us, though," said Serena to Motoki, loudly so that Asanuma would hear. "We have to find the perfect dress for Lita, so there won't be any smoochy-smoochy. Lita has to keep her dress a surprise until the big night." She looked at Asanuma. "Think of it as a guy's night out, with a chance to embarrass poor me in front of the Hot Chinese Food Guy."

"In that case, count me in," said Asanuma, finally looking up. "Didn't feel like doing homework tonight anyways."

"Knowing Darien, he'll probably make you drag your books with you and do homework in the food court," grumbled Serena, who spoke from experience.

"True," the two boys conceded.

"So it's settled, then," said Serena. "We're all headed to the mall today."

Asanuma grinned suddenly. "I love how she so blatantly ignores Darien's say in all this."

Serena merely smiled smugly. "Okay, Toki." She turned to face him. "What color's your tux?"

Motoki leaned away from Serena, not a little disconcerted. "Uhhhh…black."

"And?"

"Why?" Motoki protested.

Serena threw up her hands. "So we can at least make an attempt to find Lita a dress that matches your tux!"

Lita lifted an eyebrow. "There's a fashion rule I've never heard before."

"That's because Odango's not exactly a fashion expert."

Serena blanched and froze with her back to Darien, who was suddenly awake and stretching, leisurely as a panther. "Ehhhh…."

"About time you woke up, Ripp Van Winkle," Asanuma said. "Or have you just been faking and eavesdropping on the rest of us?"

"Since when is any conversation of yours interesting enough to eavesdrop on?" Darien yawned. "Anyways, what's this I hear about someone trusting Odango's fashion advice?"

He scooted forward, and Serena felt his shoulder brush hers as he settled beside her. She bumped her with her own, pasting on a glare. "I do too have fashion sense!"

He was grinning. He must really have been sleeping, then, and not noticed her leave – otherwise he'd be giving her his strict-father look. "You have about as much fashion sense as common sense, Serena."

"Exactly! A lot!" She humphed and turned back to the others. "Anyways, as I was saying, Toki, what color is your tux?"

"Black and white." Motoki shot a glance at Lita. "That's okay, right?"

"Of course." Lita's brow was wrinkled. "What other colors would a tux be?"

"I take offense at that," said Asanuma. "My tux is tie-dyed, thank you very much."

"Really?" queried Serena eagerly, while everyone else groaned. "You're not pulling our legs? I know how you like to trick us."

Asanuma frowned a little. "Yeah, really," he said, a little irritated. 'Why would I lie?"

"I know you wouldn't lie!" exclaimed Serena, a little panicked. She had managed to hurt Asanuma again – why did she have to be so callous? "I just – sometimes you joke around with us, Numa, like when you pretend you like guys – "

"Well, I'm not joking," said Asanuma, in a calmer tone. But his eyebrows did not part. "My tux really is tie-dye."

Silence reigned as everyone teetered on their eggshells. Then Motoki chuckled.

"Wish I had your guts, Numa."

"So." Serena rubbed her hands together. They had left the boys behind in the food court. "What shop should we terrorize first?"

Next to her, Lita was shifting from foot to foot. "I dunno," she said, mildly uncomfortable. "It's not like I've ever gone shopping for a prom dress before."

Serena gasped. "You poor deprived child." She grabbed Lita's hand. "Well, as Confucius said, a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Or something like that." Laughing, she began to skip toward the nearest department store.

Five stores and two and a half hours later:

Lita grunted at her reflection in the mirror. "Okay, look at this one." She swung the changing stall door open very self-consciously. She would rather have just tried the dresses on and torn them off without showing anyone, but Serena had so far insisted one seeing every single one.

"Ummmm…hmmm…."

Lita knew that sound. She'd heard it about ten times tonight. It was the sound Serena made when she was trying very hard to think of something complimentary to say about the dress when it was really unforgivably hideous.

"It's…glittery," Serena said finally.

Lita rolled her eyes. "Not this one," she said, and closed the door to try a different one.

Serena frowned a little when she saw it. "Well, it's a good color for you, but…" She didn't need to finish the sentence. Lita knew that the dress looked horrible on her. It was tight in the chest and shoulders, and worse yet, it had shoulder pads! And the skirt was an awkward length for Lita's flamingo legs.

Her shoulders slumped. The motion looked very strange with the shoulder pads. "I give up, Serena. I'm never going to find a dress that works."

"Not true!" insisted Serena. "There's still lots of stores left!"

"Yeah, but there's only so many times I can look at myself in the mirror feeling this ugly." Lita plucked at the ill-fitting dress. "To call it suicide-inducing would be only a slight exaggeration." Her voice grew louder, her eyes flaring as she tried to convince herself that she didn't care about looking pretty. "Why should I subject myself to this self-esteem crushing for some moronic dance!"

Serena could hardly deny that she was right. It was stupid, the way girls had to crack their spines and torment their psyches for one night. Especially when they usually spent that night just goofing off with their friends instead of dancing in the arms of the crush they had so hoped to impress with their appearance.

And yet, there were few feelings quite as magical as finding THE dress. The one that turned you into a princess as you looked at your reflection. And wearing THE dress was like wearing a coat of armor – nothing and no one could bring you down while you were wearing THE dress.

Serena knew this was true because she had had THE dress once. She had found it for last year's Spring Fling. And it was magic, so magic – at least it had been until Darien had to go and – well, she wouldn't think about that now. That was under the bridge now, and she wouldn't trade what she had with Darien now for a million of THE dresses.

"Try just one more store, Lita?" Serena implored. "Then we can call it quits, I promise."

Lita sighed again. "Fine."

The "one more store" was one of the small ones, nestled between a pretzel shop and a beauty salon. But its small front windows were crammed with dresses that already looked promising. No black was to be seen, and none of the dresses were anywhere near the sometimes slutty variety that had filled the juniors' section of the department stores.

"Lita, I think we've hit gold," said Serena excitedly.

Even the somewhat disillusioned Lita found an excited speed returning to her pulse, like a dose of hope poured into her veins. As they entered the shop, she drank in the shelves and shelves of hanging dresses – wide skirts, slender skirts, long ones, trained ones, high necks, low necks – it was like a library for dresses. She reached out and fingered a gown's frothy skirt.

Serena, too, was similarly entranced. She ran a finger carefully along a row of dresses, like a tongue tasting their fineness. This was the sort of shop you could find a million THE dresses in, she thought. Well – Lita could. Serena was too short for any of these dresses to fit her very well. Besides, she wasn't even going to prom this year, so it didn't matter. Her hand dropped to her side.

"Hello." A woman wove her way through the maze of dress racks towards them. The features beneath her brown hair looked vaguely familiar; at the same time, she seemed slightly wilted, dark smudges beneath her eyes. "May I help you?"

Lita opened her mouth to say "No, just browsing," but looked down at the dress beneath her fingertips again. She took a deep breath. "Yes, please," she said. "Do you have any dresses for – well – tall people? With broad shoulders and – " She flushed. "Perhaps slightly large chests?"

A small smile softened the woman's face. "I think I have exactly what you're looking for. Come with me."

She led them towards the back of the store. Serena trailed along behind, eyes on all the dresses they passed. She saw a blue Grecian-style outfit that she thought would looked perfect on Ami, then one that was red with golden threads and would look gorgeous on Rei – though it would clash horribly with tie-dye. She wondered if there were some way she could bring them here…

Hmm, that dress looked rather hairy. Maybe it was supposed to be a tropical-styled dress with a top made out of coconuts?

No, wait a second – that was a head poking out of the dress rack! A little dark-thatched head that was looking up at her with familiar brown eyes –

"Buji?" Serena blurted out.

"Onee-chan?" Bujiro blinked at her.

"Buji!" cried Serena, flying at him and scooping him up out of the dresses, ignoring, for the moment, the question of what he was doing hiding in women's gowns in a dress store. "You're okay!" She was squeezing him tightly in a hug, but for once, the stubborn proud little boy wasn't fighting her. Instead, he was laughing and hugging her back.

"You know each other?" ventured the saleswoman, but her question went unheard by the two.

"We used to see Buji all the time at the arcade." Lita answered instead. She tore her eyes from the blonde and dark head, feeling a little stung that Buji was hugging Serena so tightly that he had yet to notice her. "I was there, that day. I was helping Buji with his homework. Serena hasn't seen him since before then."

"So you're the onee-sans!" New life flooded the woman's face. "Oh my! I'm Buji's mother – Iwara Mayuko, call me Mayuko, please – I'm so pleased to meet the both of you." She dropped down onto one of the mannequin pedestals. "Oh my."

"Why is Buji here with you?" Lita asked curiously. "Aren't the elementary schoolers still in school?"

"Oh…" Mayuko wrung her hands. "He should. He should be. I just…I haven't been able to bear letting him out of my sight." She looked up at Lita. "My – my husband was killed in one of the attacks last month, and I – I jut couldn't bear it if they got Buji, too…he's all I have left…"

Lita's eyes widened. But before she could say anything, Buji scrambled up.

"Onee-san!" he greeted her.

"Hey, Buji," said Lita, rather awkwardly. They both stood looking at each other for a minute. Lita found herself wishing that she could be like Serena and just scoop him into a hug, but she couldn't force herself to do it. It seemed too familiar, too awkward. Instead, she bent a little and shook his hand.

"Glad you're okay," she said, a little gruffly.

"Onee-chan said you beat up the youma all by yourself," said Buji eagerly. "Did you?"

"I wouldn't say I beat it up," said Lita, loosening a little and smiling. "I bit it a couple of times. It made my breath stink really bad for a while."

"Wow," breathed Buji. "Can you teach me, Onee-san?"

"What, how to bite?"

Serena laughed. So did Buji's mother, a little.

"People can't beat those monsters, honey," she said to him.

"Yes they can!" protested Buji. "The Sailor Senshi can!"

Mayuko's lips compressed, trembling slightly. "Where were the Sailor Senshi when you needed them, honey? Or when Daddy needed them?"

Serena flinched. The spastic movement knocked her elbow into a mannequin behind her and toppled it over with a crash.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Serena scrambled to right the mannequin, heaving it back to its high-heeled feet and frantically brushing the dust from its velvet raiments. "I – I – I'll just go outside…"

"Wait, Onee-chan!" Buji grabbed her hand and dragged her back. "Okaa-san, can I go with Onee-chan? She said she would take me for ice cream while Onee-san finds a dress!"

"I did?" Serena scratched her head. " I don't remember that."

"Onee-chan…"

"Ooh, the glare of doom!" Dramatically Serena fell to her knees."Of course I will take you for ice cream, Buji-sama!" She paused and peeked out from between her fingers at Mayuko. "Provided, that is, Buji-sama's honorable mother permits it?"

"I…" Mayuko bit her lip, clearly torn between a little peace and quiet from Buji and granting his wish and between keeping him in her sight. "Well…you are the infamous Onee-chan..."

"Serena." Lita looked rather fierce. "You can't go alone – "

"I won't be alone!" chirped Serena. "I'll be with Buji! And Buji's very strong, aren't you, Honey Bunny? Don't worry, we'll be fine!"

"Don't call me that," Buji grumbled, but Serena's attention was caught by something outside the window.

"Lita, look, there's Darien," she said. "By the fountain. We'll drag him with us to the food court and we won't be alone then, okay?"

Lita, following Serena's pointing finger, could indeed see Shields standing by the fountain, but she still didn't want Serena and Buji to leave her…

"Okay." Mayuko took a deep breath. "You can take him."

"Yeah!" Buji pumped his fist in the air and grabbed Serena's arm. "Bye, Okaa-san!"

"I'll bring him back promptly, Mayuko-san!" called Serena hastily as she was yanked out of the store. "Make Lita a goddess, please!"

"It won't take much work." Mayuko smiled at Lita. "Shall we begin?"

Lita suppressed a frown. "Yeah. Okay." She followed Mayuko but not before stealing one last glance outside. Shields, Buji, and Serena…

Talk about a happy little family.

The coughing reached her ears even as she started up the steps. Wet, heaving. Phobos and Deimos swooped down in a flurry of black feathers, as though to shield her from the sound. But even their raucous caws could not drown it out.

Blood speckled the wet washcloth she had left on his forehead when she left that morning. It had long since dried in the many hours she'd been gone. He clutched it over his mouth like a kerchief. Sweat poured down his ravaged face. The glass beside his pallet was empty.

How long had he been without water? Since you left for school. How long ago had she left for school? Thirteen hours ago. Why hadn't she come home to refill it? Because I didn't want to come home and mop drool from an old man's chin. Because I didn't want to hear death grinding up his insides. Because I don't love him enough. Because Mom should be the one here, taking care of him, because she loved him, and I don't, because he deserves better, because you're a bitch, Rei, a bitch, because you don't –

"Hiatsu…" The groan cracked out like ripping parchment. "Hiatsu…"

"Grandpa." Rei squatted down on her knees beside his bed. "Grandpa, we have to go to the hospital."

"No. No…" Grandpa's voice was a whisper, but no less forceful for its lack of volume. He did not have the money to go to a hospital.

"Grandpa, stop worrying about the money. You know he'll take care of it." Rei's voice was tight and snappish; this was an argument they had had many times before. Did he think she liked her father any more than he did?

"I won't…accept…his charity." Had Grandpa still had any saliva left in his desiccated mouth, the words would have been spat out. "I will stay here…my granddaughter can take care of me."

No I can't! Rei wanted to scream. You aren't my responsibility! I'm only fifteen! Keeping you alive shouldn't be my responsibility! It shouldn't…it shouldn't…

Why did her father think that she was a tool for him to use? Why did he think he could use her as entertainment for his supporters' sons, as an exotic temptation for those leaning towards his causes? Why did he think that she had been born for him? Why did he think she owed him for the years that he had fed and clothed her? Did he think that she would not rather have run away than eaten his food and lived under his roof?

Why did Grandpa think that it was her duty to nurse him? How could he not realize that a fifteen year old knew nothing about medicine, about healing, about being responsible for lives and deaths and pain – why did he not think of her, of how she felt, being sprayed with his blood and mucus and sweat every time he coughed? Why had Father forced her to this shrine, and why had Grandfather turned her into a miko, why had he made her a martyr for a faith she did not know nor believe in, why had they mutated her into this spiteful, twisted void that had no friends and many enemies, who had neither home nor school nor faith nor mother nor father nor guardian nor friend –

I won't accept his charity.

My granddaughter will take care of me.

She hated him. She hoped he would die. Fine if he wouldn't go to the hospital. GOOD! Let him die, let her be free!

Rei wrung excess water from a fresh washcloth and felt a lightening of her spirit. A butterfly stirring within its cocoon, arching its back to rip out of the hardened coffin in which it lay and spread its wings – but no. Rei squashed it back inside. Best not to hope. Not yet. Not yet. Grandpa had been this way for a long time and not yet succumbed, there was no reason for this night to be any different.

But still…still that infinitesimal lightening, that morbid hope…if he were to die…she would be the "Christ-hating" miko no longer. Not mistaken as her mother. A new priest would be sent to run the shrine, and she would leave. Before her father came. Somehow. Maybe live with Mina. Maybe turn her Senshi night-job into full-time career, make TV appearances. Forget Rei Hino, the downtrodden, unwanted, unloved brat she had been…

And still was. For now.

But not much longer.

"Are you thirsty?" She pressed the washcloth onto the wrinkled forehead.

"Just…some water…thank you, Hiotsu…"

Rei nodded and stood to take the empty glass and crimson-spattered cloth to the kitchen. The mirror on the wall caught her motion and her attention.

He looked so small, huddled in those threadbare blankets. His body shook like a cherry tree in a storm. And she towered above him with her feverishly eager eyes, hungering for the moment when his roots would finally be torn up…

What kind of granddaughter are you? An evil one. How can you say you love him? I never said it out loud. So? Does that meant it was never true? You're a vulture. You hate your father, but you're just like him. Just like him.

Only because they made me, Rei told herself as she mechanically washed the glass. Her eyes were dead, glassy in the window reflection. If they had loved me, if they had appreciated me and cared for me – then maybe things would be different. But they didn't.

And this was how matters stood.

Minako sat perfectly positioned at the edge of the food court. A decorative tree – it wasn't even real, she thought disdainfully, thinking of the gorgeous rowens and birches that had grown within the Moon Palace – sat beside her twosome table and hid her from the sight of most food court patrons.

Which meant that she could see Sailor Moon (in her civilian guise) and the male Terran she was with, but they could not see her.

Her intent gaze, at the moment, was fixed on Sailor Moon's companion. In her estimation, he was the strongest candidate in the contest of who Tuxedo Mask's civilian form was. Two others also floated in Minako's suspicion – the blonde boys, Furuhata Motoki and Itto Asanuma. They were not constantly present with Serena the way this Shields character was, however, and they had different colors and builds from Tuxedo Mask, whereas Shields shared a similar build and coloring with Mask.

But that identicalness of color and build aroused Minako's suspicions. The prince was far more wily than that. More likely that Shields was a decoy, and Furuhata or Itto were the prince operating under an illusion glamour. Or perhaps the prince was neither of them and was instead one of the many students at Azabu, or even another school. Or maybe he was out of school. She really had no way of telling – other than Sailor Moon. Sailor Moon was their one link to Tuxedo Mask.

The sound of a chair scraping out drew Minako's attention. She found Malachite sitting across from her. He wore civilian clothes, as he had on their past couple of meetings outside of her apartment or Beryl's kingdom. She was still having a hard time getting used to see him in Terran jeans and button-down shirt, though it was better now that she had cut his hair back to its old length.

"Minako," he greeted her quietly. He handed her a – what did the Terrans call them? Smoothies? – being careful not to let his fingers touch hers. He had been doing that lately, she had noticed – not touching her. She simultaneously hated it and appreciated it. On the one hand, she missed contact with her soulmate; on the other, she felt so…fragile these days. As though it would take only a strong wind to blow her away. She wondered if it was some defense mechanism of Chronos, ensuring that trespassers in wrong times did not do so easily. It seemed like the sort of thing Pluto would do. Can you cut me some slack, Pluto? she thought angrily, watching her hands as they curled beside the smoothie. They were trembling and had been since Beryl woke her. That constant reminder that she did not belong here.

She did not belong with Beryl and the Dark Kingdom. She would never be one of them! she spat in her mind. But nor did she belong to the Senshi, not after all that she had done.

And now she did not even belong with Malachite. She was forcing him to betray his prince the way she had betrayed her princess.

That thought alone was almost enough to make her change her mind about capturing the prince. Was she really going to do this to her soulmate?

Then the chain that connected her to her princess shuddered. YES.

The princess came first. The princess came first. She had to remember that!

She sat forward, shoved her shaky hands in her lap. "Sailor Moon bought tickets today for that ritual thing the students have at school – that dance."

Malachite's glance flickered over to Moon's counterpart and her companion. "With Tuxedo Mask?"

Malachite, unlike Minako, was convinced that Shields was the prince. This should have cinched it for Minako, since Malachite was after all one of the prince's Shittenou, but instead, it made her even more suspicious that Shields was NOT Tuxedo Mask. Because she had a niggling thought in the back of her mind that Malachite would conceal/protect his prince at any cost – even at the cost of lying to her.

Which was yet another reason that she no longer belonged even with Malachite. She had fallen so far that she no longer trusted him.

How wretched she had become.

"Presumably," Minako said aloud. "If not with him as her escort, than at least we can assume that he will be at the function. All the students will be gathered in that one spot."

Malachite regarded her. She realized that he had donned a pair of those instruments the Earthlings used to fix vision, and it unreasonably made her feel as though he could see right through her. "But you're not planning to go straight after him," he said.

"No." To hide her discomposure, Mina took a sip of the smoothie he had brought her. Strawberry with a hint of honey – she wished that he did not know her so well. If only her bond with him could have disintegrated in this time as her bond with the Senshi had.

She set it down. "Sailor Moon will be there. So we grab her and demand that Tuxedo Mask come forward and reveal himself or Sailor Moon says sayonara."

"And if he doesn't?"

"If he doesn't," said Venus slowly, her hands now shaking worse than ever. "Then we take her and get the information we need." She clenched her fists to stop the shaking and looked up at him. "Whatever it takes."

"Do we have to take him, Onee-chan?" Buji whined.

"Yes." Serena said absently. Her attention was focused on Darien, on what he was staring at with his back to them. "Lita would kill me if we didn't."

She couldn't believe what had captivated Darien's attention so. It was a coffin store. In a mall! Was that even legal? Goosebumps trickled down hers spine, not just from the store's very presence but also from what the thoughts running through Darien's head as he looked at the store must be.

"Onee-chan?" Buji tugged on her hand a little.

She blinked and looked down at him. He was looking at her with an unusually grown-up expression on his face, his eyes sad.

"Okay, Onee-chan?" he asked her.

Serena felt bad for so quickly dragging down Buji's emotions again. She had heard what Mayuko told Lita about Buji's father, and she had hoped to take his mind off that a little. Instead, it seemed, she was just exposing him to more death…

"Couldn't be better, Honey Bunny," she said quickly, and ruffled his silken dark locks. Reaching into her pocket, she fished out a handful of change. "Ready to make a wish?" She skipped with him around the fountain to where Darien stood and dumped most of the coins into his pudgy little hand. Two coins she kept.

Buji scampered eagerly onto the fountain's lip. His lips moved as he prepared to throw the coin in. Feeling as though she was eavesdropping on his wish – which would keep it from coming true – Serena quickly turned away.

Her eyes inexorably wandered to Darien's back, so stiff and ramrod straight. Her stomach clenched; she couldn't read his mind, of course, but if he was staring at a coffin store, whatever he was thinking wasn't sunshine and morning glories. Well, unless the morning glories were part of a bouquet to lay on a grave.

A morbid image painted itself in Serena's mind: her funeral. Suppose she died in one of these youma battles. Her family would find out who she was; would Darien and Lita be revealed, too? Would they have to go into hiding? If she died, would Darien and Lita even still be alive? Suppose they all died? Suppose two days from now they were all lying in caskets that at this very moment lay mere feet away in the store Darien stood before?

Suppose two days from now she was burning in hell?

"Onee-chan?"

Buji's whisper floated her up to the surface of the dark lake her mind swam in. She clutched it like a life preserver and looked at him, eyebrows creased in concern at the apprehension in his voice. "What's wrong, Buji?"

"You looked like you were going to cry, Onee-chan." He held his last coin out to her, a shiny silver circle. "It's okay. Here, look, you can have my last wish."

"Oh, Buji." Serena's lower lip trembled. She hugged him fiercely. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for being sad, Onee-chan," responded Buji gruffly, shoving his coin at her again.

Serena hugged him harder, then let him go. "You know what?" she said, taking the coin from him. "I've got a better idea. Come on." She took him by the hand and put her free finger to her lips. Then tiptoeing with feet light as feathers, she led him to Darien.

She released Buji and winked at him. Then she tiptoed behind Darien. His hands were stuffed into his pockets. From behind, she gently pulled his clenched fist out. He jerked it away, but she kept ahold of it. As he spun around, she was unfolding his tense fingers and pressing Buji's coin into his palm. She ignored his tense exclamation of "Odango!" and tilted her head at him with a smile.

"Make a wish!"

His dark eyes flicked down to the coin in his palm. His eyebrows lifted in the usual way, and he smiled a little, briefly. "Odango, I don't do stuff like – "

Serena flicked his knuckles. "Humor me."

Darien rolled his eyes, but fell into step beside her as she turned around. Serena caught Buji by the hand, and Darien's eyebrows lifted once more. "Visitation day?"

"Ha ha," retorted Serena, swinging Buji up onto the lip of the fountain. "No."

"You look familiar," Darien told Buji, who was now almost level with his eyes. "Do I know you? Or his father?" This last he directed at Serena, slyly.

Serena opened her mouth to retort scathingly, but Buji stated suddenly, "I know you." His pudgy arms tied a knot over his chest. "You're That Man." He imbued the words with an aggressive disdain usually reserved for appellations like "that idiot" or "those dirty perverts."

The dour look Darien gave Serena was so characteristically Darien that Serena nearly laughed out loud. "He's related to Lita, isn't he?"

She grinned widely. "Lita is his onee-san," she said enigmatically.

"I've seen you at the arcade," interrupted Buji, and the way his brown eyes were narrowed was identical to Darien's. "You make fun of Onee-chan."

"Ah." Recognition flashed across Darien's face. "I should have realized sooner. You're one of Teenage Mother Serena's brood." He raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you're so disgruntled."

"Excuse you!" said Serena indignantly. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!"

Her words went unnoticed, however; Darien and Bujiro were now engaged in a red-hot staredown.

"Stop talking to Onee-chan!" Buji commanded.

"I'll talk to whomever I want," countered Darien.

"You'll talk with my fist!" Buji declared, and hauled his arm back for a punch.

"BOYS!" exclaimed Serena –

BAM! went Buji's fist.

Right into Serena's eye.

"ODANGO!" Darien seized Serena by her waist as she swayed on her feet. Her fingers closed around his arm as she blinked rapidly.

"Onee-chan!" cried Buji in horror.

"I'm okay…I'm okay. Okay!" Serena hastily pushed herself out of Darien's hold and batted him away as he tipped her head back to examine her eye. "Darien, I'm fine – Buji, no, it's okay, really – oh, sweetheart, don't cry! Don't cry!"

She scooped up the hiccupping Buji and hugged him tight. "Shhh…Buji, it's okay. It's okay…"

"I didn't mean to, Onee-chan!" Buji wailed. "I promise I didn't! I'm so sorry! I wanted to hit the jerkwad!"

Darien's eyebrow quirked again. "Did you teach him that word?" he murmured to Serena. Serena gave him a quelling glance, glaring, then flinching as it made her eye throb. Darien pressed his lips together.

"Did you learn that word from me, Buji? Serena asked him.

Bujiro's head, smushed against Serena's neck with his face hidden in her throat, nodded.

"I didn't know such a little person could hear so much." Serena tapped Buji's head. Laughter sparkled in her voice. "Must be those long Honey Bunny ears."

To her delight, a giggle escaped Buji. "I'm not a Honey Bunny!"

"Nope, he's definitely not hairy enough," Darien injected into the conversation. Serena looked up hopefully; it seemed Darien was trying to win Buji's favor. "You, on the other hand, Odango…"

Or not. Serena aimed a kick at him. "Look who's talking, King Kong legs."

At that, Buji lifted his head from Serena's neck to peer down at Darien's legs.

"Show him," Serena ordered.

Darien rolled his eyes and tugged his pants leg up to the knee.

"WHOAH!" Buji's brown eyes widened like chocolate chips melting into a pool of cocoa.

Serena laughed, giggles escaping her like a stream of bubbles.

"Ha ha," said Darien dryly. "I'll have you know Motoki's very jealous of this leg foliage."

"But not Asanuma."

"Well, I have a sneaking suspicion that he shaves his," Darien informed her, yanking his pant leg back down.

"No way!" Serena frowned. "Well, actually, that is sort of believable…"

"It's exactly the sort of metrosexual bordering on homosexual thing he'd do."

"I think it's time for that ice cream now," said Serena hastily, noticing that Buji's ears had perked up at the 'sexual.' "Right, Buji?"

Buji looked up and opened his mouth in protest, but the sight of Serena's purpling eye quickly killed his objection. "Right, Onee-chan."

"Off we go, then!" Serena swung him down to his feet. "Whoah, you're getting heavy! I used to be able to hold you with one arm!"

"When was that?" Buji's skepticism was impish. "In your dreams?"

Darien whistled, giving Buji a high five. "I'm definitely starting to like you, kid."

"He goes from beating Darien up for insulting me to joining him in the torture." Serena sighed. "How quickly they fall to the Dark Side."

"You're sure you don't want the cappuccino flavor?" Darien asked Buji for the fifth time.

"Stop trying to corrupt him," Serena ordered. "He doesn't like coffee. Buji, stick with the chocolate."

"I'm just trying to open his mind to trying new things," Darien insisted. "Coffee is just like chocolate," he said, turning back to Buji. "It just gives you a lot more energy."

"And who's the one who'll end up dealing with all that extra hyperness?" demanded Serena.

"Ahem," said the cashier. It was a boy now; the first one had been a girl and breathily told Darien to take as long as he needed. This member of the male gender seemed much less inclined to put up with Darien's hold-up of the line. (He must not be a friend of the Chinese Food guy.) "Are you ready to order now?"

"One more minute," said Darien. "Buji, I really think you'd like the cappuccino flavor – "

Serena squeezed in between Darien and the counter. Darien poked her in the waist and she squealed, doubling over to protect herself, then stomped on his foot. Darien smothered a startled curse and wrestled his foot out from under her heel. All this took only a couple seconds, then Serena was talking to the clerk as if nothing had happened.

"We'll take a double-scoop chocolate cone and a strawberry triple fudge double scoop cone," she said cheerfully. "And then whatever coffee junkie here orders."

The cashier's bored expression had suddenly livened at the appearance of Serena's bright hair and eyes. 'Certainly," he said smoothly. "Waffle cone or sugar, honey?"

Serena's eyes widened in excitement. "You make honey cones? I'll have one of those!"

Behind her, Darien snorted. Even Buji shook his head.

The cashier wilted a little. "I'll, uh, get those cones now."

"And an iced mocha latte for me!" Darien called after him as he went to the dispensers. "Odango, you're hopeless."

"Insult me all you want, Shields, nothing can pop my red balloon of happiness now," said Serena airily. "I'm getting a honey cone. Have you ever heard of those before? I haven't. They must be new."

Darien snorted again, echoed this time by Buji.

"What are you two, horses?" Serena frowned at them. "I'm going to go find a table."

"One with tall stools?" Buji requested hopefully.

"Duh!" said Serena. "Of course!"

"Why stools?" Darien asked as Serena flounced off.

"Because," said Buji, as though this explained everything.

The cashier returned with two towering ice cream cones and a tall latte. His eyes fell on the two boys, minus Serena, with obvious disappointment.

"Sorry, kid." Darien's teeth flashed white in a wide grin as he handed over the money and took the cones. (He didn't trust Buji not to drop them, loath though he was to let the kid hold his precious latte.) "Guess you're just not her flavor."

A little bit of Darien's latte sloshed out of the cup as Buji ran to keep up with Darien's long strides. Darien slowed down a little, telling himself it was only so that he'd have enough latte left to drink and not for the kid.

Serena was spinning happily on a stool at one of the tables near the mall's mini-arcade. Her feet dangled several feet above the ground, and Darien was pretty sure he knew now why Buji and Serena (both rather short) were so adamant about sitting in the tall stools.

He handed the cones to Serena when they reached the table. "Hold these." He turned and lifted Buji up onto the stool across from Serena.

"Hey!" Buji kicked away from the stool. "I want to sit next to Onee-chan!"

"Don't blow a gasket, kid." Darien moved him to the stool next to Serena. "Geez. It's not like I want to sit next to her."

"Whatever," said Buji. "I saw you trying to make a move."

Serena erupted in laughter.

Darien fought back the blush climbing up his neck and made a disgusted What in the hell? face at both of them.

"Hey, this looks just like a sugar cone." Serena peered supiciously at her ice cream cone as Darien slid into one of the stools on the other side of the table. She nibbled a bit off the edge. "It tastes just like a sugar cone, too!"

"You don't say," said Darien, grateful that the attention was off him. Bujiro snorted into his ice cream.

Serena glowered at them. "You know something," she accused.

"Onee-chan, your ice cream's melting down your hand," pointed out Buji innocently.

Serena looked down and quickly licked the trickle of pink. "I'll find out someday, just you wait."

"Of course you will, Odango." Darien stripped the wrapper from a straw and slid the straw into his latte. "Of course you will."

"Can I go play the Senshi game?" Buji asked eagerly a quarter of an hour later.

Darien regarded the chocolatey ring that encircled Bujiro's mouth like a beard. Serena laughed.

"Half of your ice cream cone's still left," Darien said, looking pointedly at the soggy chocolate mess in Buji's sticky fist. "Eat the rest of it first."

Buji frowned pitifully and turned to Serena. "But Onee-chan, I have a tummy ache," he implored. "I can't eat any more. Can't I go?"

Serena felt a sad twinge, as much for the wonderful, wasted, delicious ice cream melting in Buji's fist as for the sad, puppy-being-denied-a-bone look on his face.

"Of course you can," she said. "Darien, give him some quarters."

"I don't condone this," warned Darien, but he handed Buji the change.

Buji ran off toward the mall's mini-arcade –

"Oh, Buji, wait!" Serena cried suddenly. "Come back!"

Buji sighed and trudged back reluctantly. "What?"

"You're all sticky." Serena plucked a napkin from the dispenser and glanced around the table. 'Darien, hand me your water."

"What for?" asked Darien suspiciously, but Serena had already stolen it and dipped the napkin in it. He groaned.

"There you go," said Serena, wiping the congealed ice cream from Buji's fingers. "Now go kill some youma!"

"Wow," said Darien as several people turned around at Serena's shouted command. "You really had that whole mother image going for a second there, and then you had to ruin it with the whole order to murder."

Serena's blue eyes sparkled like sun on the ocean. "I did?"

"Uh, yeah." Darien raised an eyebrow. "It sounded very bloodthirsty."

"No, no that!" Serena shook her head, pigtails flapping. "I mean, was I really acting like a mom?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"A good mom?" she pressed.

Darien frowned. "Why?"

Serena looked down and stirred the soupy remainders of her melting cookie-dough ice cream. "No reason."

"Obviously there's a reason, or you wouldn't have asked." Darien leaned back in his seat. It wouldn't lean back on its rear legs since it was a stool and not a chair; he scowled a little.

"I get it," he said, suddenly catching sight of a curly head behind the Chinese food counter. "You're trying to make Chinese Food Guy see what a good mother you'll make so he'll marry you."

"NO," said Serena, emphatically.

Darien shrugged and took a sip of his iced latte. "Suuuuure. I believe you."

The sarcasm in his voice was tangible. Serena sighed and looked towards the arcade. She could see Buji, up on his tiptoes, struggling ferociously in his one-handed grapple with the joystick.

"So," said Darien abruptly, pulling her attention back to him. His eyes regarded her seriously. "Are you going to tell me now why you were walking around alone without Lita or me?"

Serena's lips compressed. "Lita's getting her prom dress at Buji's mom's shop. Buji's mom seemed pretty stressed out, so I said I'd take him out for a while while she helped Lita find a dress."

"That's an explanation, but not an excuse," said Darien. "Serena, you know that it's not safe for you to be alone – "

"Darien, it's not safe anywhere," interrupted Serena. "No matter what. You think that if the Dark Kingdom wanted to, they couldn't just kill us anytime and anywhere they wanted? If they sent twenty youma here, right now, while we're here together and Lita came to fight them with us, we'd still die, because we can't fight all of them. What we do doesn't matter. All we're doing right now is waiting for them to move and fighting as hard as we can until they finally decide to quit playing with us and just kill us."

Darien stared into his cup, stirring it slowly. This was the exact resignation that had been floating like a dead snake on top of his mind all week – ever since all this had started, even – but to hear it slithering from the lips of optimistic Serena was like having it confirmed by a prophet. It was an inevitability now, and not just a nighttime dread.

"What are you thinking?"

Darien let go of his spoon, let it sink into the muck of his latte. He looked up at Serena, into her drawn face. All he could do was shake his head wordlessly and drop his gaze back down to his coffee.

Serena's hand slipped over his. She squeezed it, gently. He turned his hand over beneath hers and returned the gesture.

"It's like taking a test when you don't understand the chapter," he said broodingly. "At some point in studying you just give up and let what comes come."

Serena bit her lip a little. "Isn't that like surrendering?"

"Yes."

Silence fell over them, not comfortable but heavy, like the dark brocade that lines coffins. Darien stared sightlessly at his hand under Serena's.

Without warning, Serena suddenly slid down out of her stool. She climbed up into the one beside Darien and pressed her forehead against his shoulder, threading her hand into his again.

After a moment, she spoke, her voice muffled. Darien, so surprised by her sudden movement that his heart was still pounding swiftly in his chest, had to struggle to hear her. "What were you like when you were a kid, Darien?"

Darien looked down at the halo of golden hair, caught more than a little off guard. "Uh – quiet, I guess." He cleared his throat. "Why?"

Serena's shoulders lifted and sank in a shrug. "Just wondering," she said against his sleeve. "Buji just seems so much like you sometimes. I wondered if you were the same when you were a kid as you are now, or if you've changed."

Darien began to twist his straw wrapper. When Serena did not speak again, he began to talk, haltingly. "I don't know. It all depends. Sometimes I think about me back then and me now, and I can't believe how different I am. But other times I think about it and I realize that I haven't changed one bit." He laughed a little unhappily. "I don't like change, but it's kind of discouraging to think that you haven't changed at all in ten years."

"Change is funny like that." Serena's murmur was thoughtful. "When it's happening, you hate it, but when you look back on it years later, you're glad it happened." She sighed and lifted her head to look up at him, her chin propped on his arm. A sudden image superimposed itself over her face: that little girl in the hospital so long ago, staring adorably up at him just like this.

Except the little girl hadn't had a black eye.

A corner of Darien's mouth lifted. Serena smiled back uncertainly. "What is it?"

"Just your eye." He smiled wider. "It's all purple."

Serena groaned and dropped her face against his sleeve again. "I hope a security guard stops you when we're here and accuses you of domestic violence."

"In the first place, for it to be domestic violence, we would have to be married," said Darien. "In the second place, it would have to be me who had punched you, which it wasn't."

Serena was blushing a little by the time he was finished. "But anyway," he continued, "Maybe Buji is your kid. He's got your wail, your love of junk food and video games, your contempt of me, and your love of violence. It can't just be coincidence."

"Well, if he's got my wail, he's got your scowl," retorted Serena. "And that grumpy allele could only have come from you – "

She stopped because Darien was watching her with a peculiar smile of amusement on his face.

"What?"

Darien shook his head and hid the Cheshire Cat smile behind his latte as he took another sip.

Serena glowered at him and covered her bruised eye with a hand. "It's not very gentlemanly of you to keep laughing at my misfortune."

"That's not what I'm laughing at," Darien protested, teeth flashing in his wide smile.

"Sure," said Serena, unconvinced. "But Tuxedo Mask wouldn't laugh at me. He'd give me a rose, or something."

Darien rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Is that a hint?"

Serena batted her eyelashes in reply. Darien grinned and reached into his nearly empty latte cup. When his hand re-emerged, it held a rose.

"There," he said, pushing it through her hair, where it joined the roes he'd put there during PE that morning.

"Good," said Serena, pleased. "I appreciate it, especially since it was your fault."

"How was it my fault?" Darien demanded. "I'm not the one who jumped in front of Buji's fist."

"I jumped in front of it to keep you from getting punched!"

"And considering the fact that I can heal myself, that made sense how?"

Serena opened her mouth…then shut it. A flush rose in her cheeks.

Darien smirked. "Nice try."

"I remembered!" protested Serena. "I just didn't want you to feel any pain!"

"Considering how many of your punches I've survived, Odango, I doubt the fist of a six-year-old would have caused me any considerable anguish."

Serena gingerly prodded her eye. "I don't know," she said. "His fist seemed pretty hard to me."

"That's because you're a dumpling. I, on the other hand, am a chiseled statue of pure muscle." He flexed his arm.

Serena gagged. "You did not just say that."

"Onee-chaaaaaaaan!" A ball of energy bounced suddenly up into Serena's lap. She turned her attention from Darien to the big brown eyes gazing sadly up at her.

"It's no good, Onee-chan," he complained. "I can't press any of the buttons with this dumb thing!" He held out his cast and shook it so angrily that tears sprang to his eyes. "I kept getting killed!"

"Hey, wait a second." Darien touched Buji's cast carefully, interest in his voice. "Is that who I think it is on your cast?"

"It's Tuxedo Mask," Buji said, holding his cast out a little further for Darien to see the excellent likeness drawn in black Sharpie on Buji's red cast. Some of his trepidation melted into pride. "Itto-san drew him for me."

Darien's eyebrows lifted. "Asanuma did, huh?" he said, more to himself than Buji. "Wow. That's really cool."

"Why don't you tell him how you broke your arm, Buji," suggested Serena. She knew that Darien already knew how it had happened (from the arcade youma attack) but she also knew that little boys loved to brag about their adventures.

"I would love to hear it," agreed Darien, a sparkle entering his eyes.

Nearly exploding with pleasure, Buji launched into a rousing tale of his experience in the arcade.

"So then it gross teta – tenta – testicle thing hit me – "

Serena choked on a chunk of cookie dough. Darien glanced at her over the rim of his mocha latte, hiding his own grin. But Buji rambled on, unpertubed. " – and I went whoosh! Out the window and bam!" He slapped his hands together. "On the sidewalk and everything started going dark, just like in the movies, and I remember thinking, oh, man, I wish I'd finished my milkshake! And that made me think of Serena-onee-chan, and then whoah! Suddenly there she was, right above me – sticking her face in mine, like usual."

Buji made a face at Serena, and she laughed at him, reaching out to pinch his adorable cheek. He ducked away from her, towards Darien, squealing as she missed him. He quieted then, looking thoughtful. "You wanna know something silly, Onee-chan?"

"Something sillier than you, Honey Bunny?"

"Would you make her be quiet?" Buji said plaintively to Darien. "Kiss her or something."

Darien's eyebrows flew up; it was his turn to choke. "Where'd you learn that?"

Buji looked down. "Otou-san always did it to 'kaa-san."

How Darien figured it out, Serena didn't know. She hadn't told him, and Buji hadn't told him. But somehow, from just that one sentence – Otou-san always did it to 'kaa-san – Darien suddenly knew that Buji's father had died.

Because he asked quietly, "You're angry with him for leaving?"

Buji shook his head vigorously. Then he stopped shaking his head and instead nodded slowly. Serena couldn't see his eyes, but there were tears dripping down his chin.

"Dads aren't allowed to leave!" he whispered.

"No. No, they're not," said Darien. "But they don't choose to go."

"Then they shouldn't have to!"

"Buji…" Serena spoke slowly, as though each word was a thread being slowly unstitched from her. "You shouldn't blame your dad. It wasn't his fault." She took a deep breath. "If there's anyone you should blame, it's the Senshi for not getting there soon enough."

Darien's eyes snapped to Serena. Anger and concern mingled in their depths.

"I…" Buji stared up at Serena, seemingly at a loss. "But the Senshi tried…"

"And so did your dad," Darien said firmly, grabbing Bujiro's attention. "So did your dad, Buji. He didn't just lie down in front of the youma and die."

Although, in all actuality, that was probably exactly what he had done. When a youma started sucking energy, victims merely wilted to the ground and had their energy sucked from them until they died.

Buji looked down. His dark curls hid his eyes from them. But more tears trickled down his chin.

Serena hugged him tightly, her nose pressed against his scalp as she rocked back and forth. Her brooch dug into her chest painfully as it was smushed between her body and his: a hard, cold reminder of how she could have prevented this little boy from losing the sun in his sky.

"If it counts for anything, Buji," she whispered, " we love you."

Buji just shook his head with a smothered sob and buried it in Serena's neck.

"I think it's time to go," Darien said quietly. He cleared the table, dropping their chocolatey napkins and spoons into the trash, then caught Serena's elbow to steady her as she slid unsteadily down from the stool with Buji in her arms.

While they had sat in the food court, the clock hands had crept towards closing time, and few people now traversed the glossy mall floors. Those who did paid little attention to the little boy crying in the arms of the blonde who was biting her lip, nor to the grave-faced youth walking beside them. The blonde and boy, however, were acutely aware of the smallest member of their little knot.

"Let me take him," Darien said, after Serena stumbled for the third time. He slid Buji out of her arms; both were surprised when he didn't make a protest. Then they saw his closed lids and slowly rising and falling chest.

"I wonder if he hasn't gotten much sleep lately," Serena said quietly, standing on her tiptoes to peer down into Buji's face as Darien held him. She smoothed a brown lock back from his forehead. "I bet he's had nightmares."

"I certainly wouldn't be surprised." Darien shifted a little, realizing they had stopped in the middle of the floor to observe Buji. "Which way is the dress store, again?"

"This way."

It took only a few minutes' silent walking to reach the store. They had barely stepped in when Mayuko sprang out, her face wan with worry. "I was so worried!"

"I'm very sorry we took so long, Mayuko-san," Serena apologized, flushing a little. "We lost track of time – "

Mayuko was barely paying attention to Serena, however. Her eyes were glued to Buji's face, an almost wondering light in them. "He's sleeping," she breathed, carefully, almost reverently tracing his face with her fingers. She lifted her eyes to them. "You got him to sleep?"

"Well, he just kind of…fell asleep." Serena watched Mayuko take Buji from Darien. The boy barely twitched. "Has he not been sleeping lately?"

"I don't think he has." Mayuko shook her head. "I told him he could sleep with me for a while after…all this…but he said he didn't want to. He said he wasn't scared." Her arms tightened around the small body.

Serena nodded. "Um…Mayuko-san, is Lita still here?"

Mayuko's eyes widened. "Oh!" she said softly. "I forgot. No, she left about an hour ago. She said to please tell you she would be at home."

"Okay. Thank you," said Serena slowly. She felt Darien's eyes on her; was it okay that Lita had gone home alone? Darien wouldn't be mad at her for letting Serena go off by herself, would he? She didn't want them to fight, and Lita already seemed not to like Darien… "Did she find a dress?"

"Oh, yes." A real smile, one of the first Serena had seen on her, graced Mayuko's face. "She found the perfect thing – almost as if it was waiting for her. It barely even needed any adjustment."

"I'm glad!" said Serena feelingly.

Mayuko smiled kindly at her, her eyes wrinkling at the corners. "Me also."

Darien nudged Serena in the small of her back.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry! Mayuko-san, this is Darien Shields, a friend of mine and Motoki's. Darien, this is Buji's mom, Mayuko Iwara."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Iwara-san," Darien said politely. He glanced at Serena. "Sorry to cut this short, but we should probably go now."

"Of course," said Mayuko graciously. She nodded at Serena. "Thank you for taking Buji for me."

"It was no trouble at all," assured Serena. "I'd love to take him anytime."

"Make that we," said Darien from behind Serena, surprising her. "Your son is unusually sharp for an elementary schooler, Iwara-san. He makes very amusing company."

"Well." Mayuko blinked at them, rubbed her eyes. "Well…I just may take you up on that offer sometime." Her tone was a little disbelieving, as though her own words surprised her.

A hopeful smile lit Serena's face. "Okay," she said. "Okay! Bye, Mayuko-san!"

Mayuko waved a farewell reply as Darien and Serena exited the shop.

"Hey!" Serena stopped suddenly as they were passing the fountain. "You never made your wish!"

Darien glanced over his shoulder at the fountain. "Can't we just go home, Odango?"

Serena gave him a Look. "Where's your sense of fun?"

"Eclipsed by my sense of sensibility," answered Darien, but he followed her to the fountain. "Answer me this: do you make these wishes because you really believe they'll come true or for some more sensible reason?"

"Darien, according to you, when have I ever been sensible?"

"Touche," acknowledged Darien with a tip of his head. He withdrew the coin Serena had given him and rolled it in his fingers, looking thoughtfully into the pool.

"If you're so sure making a wish in the fountain won't do anything, why are you so scared to throw the coin in?"

Darien looked up, cornered by Serena's expectant and triumphant gaze.

"Who says I'm frightened?" he retorted halfheartedly. "Maybe I'm just trying to think of a good wish."

"Uh-huh," said Serena sardonically, mimicking his words from before but adding a nasal twang. "Suuuuuure. I believe you."

Darien ignored her and frowned at the rippling water. Watching him, it looked as though he was trying to pick out some message in the water, some clue.

How did you narrow all of your desires into one single wish? There was so much he wanted to be free from: the Dark Kingdom, the princess and her dreams, the college dilemma, his amnesia –

This last floated to the surface of his thoughts like a corpse floating to the surface of a lake. It was inevitable, at this time of year. But he had come a far way in the past couple of years – in the past months, even – and that gaping hole in his life no longer defined him. It was a single missing piece in the puzzle of his life; it was no longer the puzzle. For that, at least, he could be thankful for the Dark Kingdom and for Tuxedo Mask.

He watched Serena out of the corner of his eye; she, too, was unconsciously rubbing the coin in her fingers, grimacing minutely at the water. She was so illusioned still, so idealistic. She believed a single wish could save the world. He didn't have that conviction. He wished he did. He imagined that to have a faith in life like Serena did would be like having a road beneath your feet to follow, instead of stumbling blindly through a forest.

Still…even if a wish couldn't save the whole world, it must be good for something. The dark hair, with its tears trickling out from beneath the curls, painted itself in his mind's eye, and he threw the coin suddenly into the fountain, his decision made.

Don't let death touch Buji again.

Serena hesitated only a moment after Darien threw his coin to throw hers. She turned, then, to Darien and said, "Okay, let's go!"

"What'd you wish for?"

Serena raised an amused eyebrow at him. "You can't tell what you wished, silly. Then it wouldn't come true!"

"Oh."

Serena looked back at him. She paused, waiting for him to catch up, then filled his hand with hers. "Come on, slowpoke," she said, and pulled him into a faster walk.

Darien looked down at her with a smirk as she dragged him along. "Odango, I'm parked that way." He pointed over his shoulder, in the opposite direction from where they were headed.

Serena flushed. "I knew that!" she lied. "I just – hmmm – wanted to look at this store over here!"

"Zone Z Erotica, you mean?" Darien read the name of the store they stood in front of.

Serena blanched, her eyes landing on the merchandise displayed in the shop window. "Before I answer that, what does erotica mean? Those are bathing suits, right?"

"Suuuure," said Darien.

Finding the perfect dress for Lita had taken no time at all. Mayuko had taken one off a hanger and made Lita put it on, and Lita had thought it looked wonderful and said so. Mayuko said, "Oh, yes, but just try this one for me. I have a feeling…"

Lita took it and disappeared behind the changing room door. It seemed not so much as though she slipped on the dress as that the dress slipped onto her. It climbed over her shoulder and hugged her in a silken embrace. Lita looked in the mirror and saw Beauty.

Almost in a trance, her eyes still fastened on her reflection, she fumbled with the door knob to open it.

"Oh." Mayuko nodded. "Oh, yes. I knew it. Perfect. And – here, put these on – " She crouched down to slip Lita's feet into a pair of dress shoes and laced them up Lita's calves. They looked more like ballet slippers than anything else, with the slightest heel to make Lita's muscles work to stand up in them and define her muscles but not enough to make her taller than Motoki.

"Mayuko-san," Lita breathed in disbelief. "You – these are – "

Mayuko smiled at her. "I remember my high school days," she said. "Too tall for most of the boys, with lots of curves. Most of all I remember how hard it was to find dresses that looked good."

"Yeah." A smile broke out on Lita's face through the tears she was crying without knowing why. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Ten minutes later Lita was walking out of the store in her school uniform again but with the precious dress slung carefully over her arm in a dress bag. She paused to get her bearings for a moment (and check her reflection in the fountain to make sure the embarrassing tear trails had disappeared), then headed towards the food court. It seemed like the sort of place Serena gravitated toward.

And she was there. With Darien, true to her word. Buji was nowhere in sight, though, and the way their heads were bent towards each other make them look rather like they were on a date.

Lita scanned the vicinity for Asanuma or Motoki but did not see either of them. Her gaze did land on a blonde girl who was situated in a perfect spot to see Darien and Serena but who was instead looking straight at Lita.

Lita's muscles tensed. Mina.

The blonde rose from her seat behind a decorative palm tree and walked up to Lita.

"You have not really fooled yourself into believing that you are one of them, have you?" she said, inclining her head toward where Serena and Darien sat talking.

"Like I'm going to listen to you," Lita said angrily. Her dreamy dress mellowness was ruined. Just walk away, Lita. Go sit down with Serena and Shields… She saw, then, Serena slide out of her seat to sit next to Darien and lean against him. On second thought, I get the impression they wouldn't appreciate me interrupting them.

She turned back to Mina, her irritation flowing into her voice as sarcasm. "While we're having this lovely conversation, why don't you tell me just why you're so hellbent on killing Serena? You were so much less murderous when we met at school."

"That was before I realized what had happened." Mina's eyes dropped to her feet, her arms curling about herself. The vulnerability of the gesture surprised and softened Lita a little towards her. "What did happen, Jupiter?"

"My name's Lita."

Mina gazed at her. "Not when I knew you, it was not. You were Jupiter, and you were my lieutenant and my best friend. My sister. I trusted you more than anyone."

"When was this?" Lita demanded, somewhat skeptical but a little eager, as well. She could feel anticipation threading up in her. Trusted me more than anyone…

"The Silver Millennium," Mina said the word quietly, pronouncing each syllable slowly as though to savor them. A tear trickled from her eye, and she looked away from Lita to scrub it away. "I cannot tell you anything about Sailor Moon back then, she was not one of us. I don't know where she has come from. But I can tell you the story of how our princess met her end. It may help you understand why I have done what I have done." She paused. "It is something even Luna and the other Senshi do not know."

"Why are you telling me and not them?"

Mina paused. "You have seen Mars and Mercury?"

It was a moment before Lita realized that she was asking and not stating. "Well, yeah," she said. "They're psycho!"

Mina nodded. "Yes. I am afraid of what they would do with this information. So I am waiting to tell them. But this is how our princess and our kingdom died."

Integral to the story, Mina began, was the princess' perfection and kindness. Then her curiosity and then the fateful event that would set their ruin into motion: the visit of Earth's prince to the moon. His subsequent seduction of the princess. How a prophecy warned that any union between the Earth and Moon would destroy them both, how the prince ignored that prophecy. How his people began to rise in rebellion and murderous rage against the Moon, and how he let them, thinking that if he conquered the Moon, his path to princess would be unobstructed. How one of his people, a young sorceress, made a pact with a demon whose wish was to possess the Moon's Silver Crystal. How this demon brought destruction to all the planets, sucking up souls through her black hole of a mouth until only the Earth and the Moon remained. How Earth's prince came to the Moon to beg for sanctuary, how when the demon and the Terrans came to the Moon, one by one all of the princess's Senshi fell, killed by the prince's generals. How…here Mina hesitated, but then plunged on – how the prince was killed but before dying he stabbed the princess so that she would die with him.

The prince, Endymion, whose selfishness had killed so many.

Endymion, who had been reincarnated right here in Tokyo.

Possibly as Darien Shields.

Lita recoiled.

"Now you see!" Mina grasped Lita's elbow. "Now you see why I do not trust Moon or Mask?" Her eyes seemed to be pleading.

"But – there wasn't a Sailor Moon in the Senshi then?" Lita tried to change the subject and avoid Mina's gaze. She felt uncomfortable, she had to think – she didn't like Darien, but to believe that he was the reincarnation of the Moon Princess's murderer seemed like a huge leap –

"No!" Mina shook her head. "Sailor Moon is an imposter – she is not of this solar system. Yet she has associated herself with the youth most likely to be the prince's reincarnation. Do you see why I view her as a threat to our princess?"

Lita did – yet the idea was preposterous. Serena would no more knowingly ally herself with a murderer than Gandhi would befriend Saddam Hussein.

"Serena would never hurt anyone," she said firmly. "Least of all your princess. She wants to protect her, too."

"If that is the case, then I have no quarrel with her."

Lita eyed her. "Meaning you don't plan to attack her again any time soon?"

"Providing she is not with the prince, no, I do not. But if she is fighting with him, I will not hesitate to do what I must."

Lita's eyes floated towards Serena's back. She was holding Buji in her lap, bent over him.

Her eyes flashed back to Mina's. "Neither will I."

Something fell in Mina's face. A rueful smile curved her lips as she placed a hand on Lita's shoulder. "I would never expect anything else from you."

Despite who it came from, it was an expression of confidence. Of encouragement. It wrapped Lita in a warm blanket of belonging. Best friend, Mina had called her. Sister. All her life, growing up alone after her parents died, all she had ever wanted was to find somewhere to belong. A group of people who wanted her.

A family.

Mina's hands fell from her shoulders. "I – I just needed you to know, I sickened of thinking that you hated me because you could not understand my reasoning," she said in a rush. Her shoulders seemed to slump.

"I miss you, Jupiter," she whispered. Then she turned and walked away.

Lita stood still as a statue for a moment. A feeling of loss enveloped her. It only grew when she turned her head to look back at Serena and Shields sitting with Buji. A perfect, happy little family. They fit together as perfectly as the three pieces of the pease symbol, and she would only be an awkward and unwieldy hanger-on. Just like she was to the dynamic duo of Moon and Mask.

She squeezed her dress bag tight in her hands, staring at the table Mina had vacated, at the artificial palm tree. A couple, middle-aged and squabbling, invaded her line of vision and dumped their bags onto the chairs.

She felt as though she had just shut another door in the short hallway that was her life. She was running out of exits. Was she going to be stuck here alone forever?

That's not important, she told herself. Stop moping. Mina just laid a huge safety hazard in your lap and you're whining about not having a family? Serena's done everything in her power to make you feel like you belong – and what about Motoki? What is he, diced garlic? You're just greedy. You want both of them to yourself. Focus! Could Mina be right? Could Shields be that prince, Endymion? He's never mentioned it, but why would he after what Endymion did the Princess? The Senshi would murder him!

She thought harder, and the more she thought, the more sense Shields being Endymion made. It would explain a lot about him – why he supported Serena against the other Senshi, why he was set so rabidly against them, why he and Lita herself didn't get along, why he had powers over plants, why he was so controlling…

She started walking towards the mall exit. Thinking, thinking, thinking…

Quarter to nine found Serena and Darien in Darien's red sports car, backing out of the parking garage into a streetlamp-lit night.

"I hope Buji's okay." Serena experimented with the radio as she spoke, surfing the stations.

Darien checked the rearview mirror and made a turn. "A good night's sleep will probably do him wonders."

"I hope so…"

Traffic lights whipped by above them like stars as Darien sped down the unclogged streets. A tension coiled in his spine, hunching his shoulders.

"We haven't eaten dinner yet," Serena remarked as she fiddled with the dial. "Any ideas?"

Darien shrugged. "Not really hungry." He slowed for a red light, then sped up as it flickered to green.

"What happened?" asked Serena suddenly.

Darien spared a glance at her. "Huh?" he said, a little of the frown melting from his face.

"What happened?" she repeated. "When we were at the mall, you were in a pretty okay mood, but now you've turned Tuxedo-Mask-silent. What are you thinking?"

Darien grimaced a little. For as well as he could read Serena's moods, it appeared that she was becoming rather adept at reading his as well.

"What else is there to think about?" he said. "The Dark Kingdom. How screwed we are."

Serena leaned away from the radio. "Buji's dad died in a youma attack," she told him. "I don't know which one, and that makes me feel even worse, that there've been so many youma battles we never even went to that I can't even begin to guess which one Buji's dad died at."

"We're not gods." Darien made a sharp left turn off the main street. "We don't know everything, and we can't be everywhere. What do they expect us to do?"

He didn't know who he was referring to when he said "they." He just knew that whoever "they" were, he'd like to punch them in the face until their nose cartilage stabbed into their brains.

"Weird as it feels to say, things were so much easier when I just followed Luna." Serena sighed. "She didn't know everything and she bossed us around, but at least she was someone to follow. She gave us things to work toward. Now we're just treading water to try to stay afloat."
"We would have something to work toward if there was something that could defeat the Dark Kingdom." Darien drove more slowly now, not so much because they had entered residential streets as because his anger had given way to pensiveness. "But what can defeat them?" He answered his own question. "The princess, supposedly."

"With the Silver Crystal," said Serena. "But we're no closer to finding either of them than we were when all this started."

"Which means that we need to find the Crystal and the princess." Darien drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Which is what we've been looking for all long, which means that despite all the work of the past months, we're still no further than we were when we started."

"We have more Senshi than when we started," Serena pointed out.

Darien snorted. "Too bad three of them want to kill us."

Serena looked out the window. "Ami doesn't want to kill us."

"Yeah, but she's not exactly batting for our team, now, is she?" Darien countered.

They were quiet again. Serena stared out the window, at her reflection in the dark tinted glass. These thoughts that she and Darien had aired tonight – at the food court, here in the car – were ones that had been eating at her for no short amount of time. Morbid though they were, she was somehow glad that he had been thinking about the same things as she had, that he didn't ridicule her.

Maybe…maybe that meant he would understand.

"Darien, I've been thinking about…something. It's not something I'm proud of but I can't help thinking it but I don't want you to hate me for thinking it even though I know it's selfish – well, I guess really what I want to do is find some way to stop thinking it or something – "

Darien rolled his eyes. "Just spit it out, Odango."

Serena bit her lip. "Never mind."

"No, Serena, say it – "

"I don't want you to hate me – "

"I'm not going to hate you, okay?"

"But it's so selfish…"

Darien's mind flew to the folder of college forms sitting on his desk at home. "I'm the last person who's going to blame you for being selfish, Serena, believe me."

Serena still hesitated. Darien found an empty side street and pulled over.

"This car's not starting again until you spill."

Serena grimaced at him. "I can't wait till I'm old enough to drive."

"Give me a warning before they let you loose on the road so I can steer clear of you, will you?" Darien joked. "No, seriously, come on, Odango. Just tell me. I'm not going to hate you."

Serena still hesitated.

He took her hand the way she had taken his earlier. Her eyes flicked up to him.

"Serena," he said. "I will never hate you. I promise."

Serena stared up at him. Her lips were slightly parted, and suddenly she bit down on the bottom one. "Okay," she said, but she withdrew her hand from his and looked away.

"I…I don't always feel this way all the time," she began. "Not always! Just…a lot of the time."

"Okay," said Darien. He placed his rejected hand awkwardly on the steering wheel. "How do you feel not always but a lot of the time?"

Serena bit her lip. "I don't want to be a Senshi anymore."

She saw the way his eyebrows rose, and rushed out, "I mean, technically, I'm not a Senshi anymore anyway because Luna kicked me out! And Venus is the leader of the Senshi but she obviously wants to kill me! And I'm not that great at fighting anyways!"

"None of those things bothered you before." Darien was watching her very closely from beneath his dark lashes. "Well, scratch that. They did bother you, but they never stopped you."

Serena looked at the glowing radio dials to avoid his gaze. She said something, but her voice was inaudible.

Considering Darien had his ears perked to their most receptive Tuxedo Mask ultra-hearing, that was pretty quiet.

"Can you say it more loudly, Serena?" he asked carefully.

Like a little girl admitting that she'd broken her mother's favorite vase, she wouldn't look at him. She whispered, "I thought that maybe if I stop being a Senshi, I won't go to hell."

In places full of children, fairy tales and superstitions abound. From "And they all lived happily ever after" to "You can't blow your nose too hard or your brain will come out with your boogers" to "If you step on a crack you'll break your mother's back," young children swallow anything they're fed.

Especially children who are unaccustomed to being fed anything at all.

The orphanage Darien grew up in was no different (although the bit about breaking your mother's back wasn't applicable to most of the kids there). Darien, cynical even as a child, didn't believe most of the hearsay. So when one of the boys told him that he should hold his breath when he passed a cemetery, the then eight year old Darien had lifted an eyebrow and said, "What horror movie did you learn that from?"

This response had caused the older boy, Mikai, to flush and grumble and turn away. So though this confirmed Darien's guess that he had learned the advice from a movie, he still did not know exactly WHY one should hold their breath when near a cemetery.

And, despite his apparent disinterest, his interest was rather piqued. Especially when Christmas rolled around that year, and every child at the orphanage – except him – refused to go to the graveyard.

The orphanage director had sighed and thrown her hands up in disgust, and gone to tell the assistant that he would have to stay and watch the other children while she went with Darien to the cemetery.

"Darien, don't go," whispered one of the assembled orphans, a young girl of six who had attached herself to him since her arrival. Mrs. Takasi, the director, had confided in Darien that her parents and older brother had died in a car crash – like his own parents – and she had latched on to him as an older brother figure. As if Darien could not have put this together on his own. "They'll eat you!"

"Eat me?" repeated Darien.

"Mikai said!" she whispered urgently.

An old man frown wrinkled Darien's eight-year-old face. "Where's Mikai?" he said, and went in search of the older boy.

"What have you told everyone?" Darien wanted to know.

Mikai was twelve, and his parents weren't dead like many of the other children's. His daddy was in jail and his mom had lost custody of him.

The location – behind bars, at bars, or six feet under – of an orphan's parents basically identified a kid. The meanest ones were always the ones whose parents weren't dead. Which kind of wasn't fair, was the general consensus among the children who made the annual trip to the graveyard.

Mikai paused in his game of Mortal Kombat to sneer at Darien. "Something."

Darien merely blinked at him. "Like what?"

"Like…." Mikai pushed his head closer to Darien, lowering his voice. "When you breathe in a graveyard, you suck ghosts in and they take over your body."

"Hmm." Darien's noncommittal hum seemed to disconcert Mikai, for he pulled his head back. Darien lifted a contemptuous brow at him. "No wonder your mother didn't want you."

Fury bubbled across Mikai's face. He leapt up from his game to slam a punch into the little snotrag's face –

But somehow the little moron slipped away from it. And stood there looking at Mikai again with that face that said, I'm better than you.

Mikai glared, panting. "Who cares?" he spat. "These kids are all scared now, and they're not gonna go no matter what you say. So guess what, they won't get to see their moms and dads this year, just like me. 'Cept you. But you don't even know what they look like." Mikai smirked.

"Can I play?" Darien said.

Mikai reeled backward, confused. "What?"

"The game." Darien pointed at the spare controller sitting beside Mikai.

"Okay," acquiesced Mikai suspiciously, keying in a second character for Darien. "But don't cry when I kick your skinny behind."

Darien bent to pick up the controller, not replying to Mikai's threat. He remained standing, and when the game began, calmly pressed buttons as Mikai punched them in a frenzy.

Not sixty seconds later, Darien set down the spare controller on the arm of the couch and left the room.

Mikai's character lay decapitated on the television screen.

When Mikai told Darien that little secret about graveyards, his first instinct had been to dismiss it: of course you didn't suck in ghosts when you breathed at a graveyard.

But then he thought about the handful of times he'd been to the graveyard before that Christmas, and about his dreams about the princess. And he wondered if perhaps the dream of that princess was the memory of some ghost that had taken up residence within him.

As he grew older, that theory faded in his mind, much like the dream of becoming a firefighter or the president wilts in the minds of all children. When he first transformed into Tuxedo Mask, it re-emerged like a long submerged submarine, draped in kelp and growing barnacles. Perhaps Tuxedo Mask was the manifestation of a ghost that had wormed into his body?

But it sank again, as he met Sailor Moon and learned the Senshi's story, and realized that they were not so different from him.

So why was he thinking about it now?

He knew why.

Because it was that time of year again.

April twenty-sixth. The day of the car crash. Or so he'd been told by the orphanage director, who drove him to their grave every year on that date, even though it was also her birthday.

He had continued the tradition even after he finally escaped the orphanage. Before he got his license, he had walked, then ridden his bike, and finally, last year, drove in his brand-new sports car with its tinted windows and surround sound speakers.

Every year, he promised himself he wouldn't come again.

Every year, he broke his promise.

And every year, he crouched in front of the graves, wondering why he had bothered to come.

It wasn't like he remembered his parents. It wasn't like he grieved for them. He should have, probably, but he didn't. He was not, by nature, an emotional being. He cared for exactly three people in the world: Motoki, Asanuma, and Serena. The only presence his parents were in his life was that of two slabs of eroded tombstones. Had it not been for the orphanage director, he would not be able to tell their graves from any of the other 4,467 in the Juuban cemetery.

But he went there every year. Out of obligation. Out of guilt. Out of not having anything better to do every year – until now.

Sometimes, on dark, angsty nights, to keep himself from falling asleep and dreaming about the crystal, he imagined his parents. Some nights they were a loving, happy, doting couple; sometimes they were artists, sometimes CEO's. (It usually depended on what Darien had eaten for supper that night.)

Other nights they were abusive, cussing, fighting drunks who passed their nights in front of the TV or at the bar. Sometimes he followed these thoughts, daring to ruminate on the possibility that his parents weren't the picture perfect orange juice ad family he had always imagined them to be as a kid. He pictured a wretched battered existence under his father's belt and his mother's sharp voice. He did this on the hell nights: the dark, cloudy nights when youma battles had torn into screaming dreams of desperate princesses that had followed exam-fraught school days that made up a long useless string of months and years that led back to a huge empty blank. These ruminations dug him deeper into that dark, dirty hole that human beings love to wallow in, the hole that hides us from shell-fire and allows us to feel like martyrs, to think bitterly that no one in the world has as miserable an existence as I do.

And when he allowed these thoughts to grow and root in his mind, contempt grew within him for his parents. Why should he go to the grave of such horrible parents?

Then he remembered that he didn't know if they were abusive or not, that their behavior was only a figment of his imagination.

And then he felt guilty. How could he denigrate his parents' memory like that? What kind of horrible, petty, selfish, desperate little coward was he? He didn't even deserve parents.

Today was April twenty-sixth. When he came across the coffin store at the mall, it had seemed like a reminder – there's still time to change your mind. Still time for you to go to them...

Because he hadn't gone this year. It would require leaving Serena alone– and Sailor Venus, Luna, and the Negaverse were all still at large. He wouldn't leave her, even for his parents.

Even if Lita was right here, watching over her. Even if Lita had dusted two youma on her own already. Even if he was a horrible son and his mother was crying up in heaven right now because he never came to see her…

Darien stared at Serena. Horror roiled within him like a storm-churned sea. Sailor Pluto would later pinpoint this as the second Darien Shields decided not to go to Yale.

While you've been worrying about getting into a good college, sneered the voice in his head, she's been worrying about going to hell!

"I know I'm horrible." Serena's voice was wretched. "A hundred, maybe thousands, of people saved from youma versus me, one measly person, getting out of going to hell." She flinched a little as she said "hell." It had always been an curse word to her. "No contest, right?"

Darien felt like such a bastard. He tried to pay attention to what Serena was saying, but the infuriated voice roaring at him inside his head was distracting. How could he have forgotten what Zoicite had told her? How could he not have noticed that something more than just youma and Sailor Venus was bothering her?

How could he have even considered traipsing off to America?

He hated himself. God, he hated himself.

"Never mind. I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything." Serena directed her eyes at her lap.

That was the last thing Darien planned to do. But at the same time, he had no idea what to tell her. Sure, he wanted to tell her to stop being a Senshi. He wanted her to be able to live without dark bags beneath her eyes and cuts crisscrossing her skin. He wanted her to live without dreams that made her wake up with the taste of blood in her mouth, without cats and teenage girls and Dark Kingdom generals leaping out at her from behind every corner, without having to lie to her friends and her family.

But it wasn't his right to say that she could. Sailor Moon didn't belong to him. She belonged to Tokyo, to Japan, to the world. And they needed her to defend them from youma because she was the only one who could – the only one who would.

Aside from him. But he didn't know how long he'd fight if he didn't have the motivation of keeping her safe in battles.

So how could he tell her it was okay for her to stop being Sailor Moon?

Maybe he should have told her about Yale, about how selfish he had been to consider going. Maybe that would have made her feel better about what she viewed as her own selfishness.

Or maybe it would just have made her feel even more horrible because she would realize that Darien was not leaving because of her.

Sometimes your friends can break you out of your prison cell. But other times, all they can do is smuggle you a little food and comfort through the bars.

And that was all Darien could do this time.

"I can't tell you what to do, Serena," he struggled as wretchedly as her. "All I can promise you is that I swear I won't hate you no matter what you do. And if you do go to hell, I'll come with you."

He smiled with more enthusiasm than he felt. What was this what it felt like to be Serena? "Who knows, maybe the devil will get so sick of our arguments that he'll spit us back out."

An equally sickly laugh escaped Serena, more an exhalation than anything else. She inhaled again, sharp and trembly, the harbinger of sobs. But she swallowed them and looked at him. Her eyes were as wide and scared as ever, but a new determination set her face.

"Thank you."

Silence settled upon them like a snowdrift as they regarded each other. At last, when a truck zoomed past, Darien started and looked away. He keyed the ignition and pulled back into the road.

Serena busied herself with the radio channels again. Click, click, click –

"That one," Darien blurted out. "I like the song."

Serena turned it back to the jazz station. "You and your elevator music," she said, but there was fondness in her voice.

When the song ended and the male DJ came on, a thought occurred to her. "Hey, what'd you do with Toki and Numa?"

They had reached Serena's house. Darien pulled into the driveway but didn't kill the engine.

"They went home," he said. "Guys can't shop on their own for longer than an hour; it's a law in the Code of Heterosexual Men."

"What does that say about you, then?" Serena asked slyly.

"I wasn't shopping, I was walking," retorted Darien, rolling down his window to get a good look in the front window of the house. He could see Lita's silhouette, peeling some vegetable or other at the kitchen counter. He rolled it up again and killed the engine, getting out of the car. "You can go, Lita's inside."

"Aren't you coming?" asked Serena, a little surprised as she got out and shut her door.

"A little later" was all Darien said.

Not prying further but with a concerned look on her face, Serena headed up the front walk. She glanced over her shoulder at him again as she unlocked the door, as though asking, Are you sure?

He shook his head. He waited until she shut the door behind her and locked it. Then he melted back into the shadows. When he transformed, he could taste her worry.

And he wondered – had his mother ever worried like that for him?

He wouldn't leave her, even for his mother. Even if he was a horrible son and his mother was crying up in heaven right now because he never came to see her…

…even if he died in a couple of days and went with Serena to hell and never did get to see his mother?

It would only take half an hour. Just half an hour, to stand in front of their graves and apologize that he never would end up getting to meet them after all.

He strode briskly through the cemetery, beelining for the hulking oak tree in the corner. It cast a huge shadow during the day, and at ten-thirty at night, the ground beneath it was positively black. Even his excellent Tuxedo Mask eyesight only allowed him to make out the shapes of his parents' grave markers. A little shiver stroked his spine, but he ploughed boldly on.

He stopped in front of the twin graves and rocked back on his heels. Okay, he was here, what now?

More to stall than out of any particular sentiment, he conjured some flowers – God, he didn't even know what they were. Maybe baby's breath – and sprinkled them across the grave. He had a sudden swift flash of yearning and wished that he knew his mother's favorite flower, so he could give it to her.

Something sharp suddenly bit into his palm, and his fingers curled around the object that had materialized in his hand. They were quite familiar with its shape: a rose.

Darien's lips quirked up humorlessly. How appropriate. His mother liked roses.

He dropped it, and as it fell, a golden spark arced up, healing the tiny hole in the fleshy skin of his palm.

He stood there for much longer than he had planned. Thinking about everything and nothing. What would his life be like now if his parents were alive? What would they think of Toki, Numa, and the Odango? Would he even know them if his parents were alive? Would he attend Azabu, would he live in Japan –

Would he have become Tuxedo Mask?

Darien's thoughts grew as muddled as a puddle. Mental turmoil like this was the reason he thought of his parents as rarely as possible.

He took deep breaths and pivoted, walking quickly from the graves. This was what happened when you dredged up the past; confusion and pain abounded –

In his haste and agitation, he did not watch his footing as closely as he should have. An uplifted tree root caught his foot and sent him sprawling. His chin slammed into the ground and snapped his jaw shut. The side of his face grazed down a tombstone.

Golden sparks erupted on that side of his face, and he found himself face to face with a gold-lit tombstone adorned by a wistfully-smiling angel. He pushed himself up on his arms, then a familiar sensation exploded within him. A sensation that tasted like anxiety, adrenaline – but more than anything, disbelief.

"Damn!" he spat out, spraying the tombstone with blood from his tongue. "Odango, I'm going to kill you… "

Lita didn't fall asleep until after ten. Serena wondered what had kept the brunette up. She had been in a rather strange mood all night. When Serena asked her about her dress, Lita had said, "Huh? What dress?" before remembering it. She said she would show it to her later. Which seemed strange to Serena, since she herself usually wanted to show off dresses as much as possible, but probably Lita was much more modest than her.

Perhaps Lita had realized that Serena wasn't asleep either. Perhaps she suspected. Maybe the snores escaping from her right now were faked. Maybe the moment Serena extended so much as one foot out of the bed, Lita would leap up and shout "Ha! I caught you!" and demand to know what she was doing.

Serena could, of course, just say that she was going to get a drink of water. But Darien always told her she was a horrible liar, so Lita would probably see right through that fib.

Thus, to be safe, Serena waited nearly another hour in her bed before beginning Part 2 of her plan. She nearly went mad, lying stiff as starch under her blankets so as not to arouse Lita's suspicion. Oh, how her big toe wanted to move! And how tempting sleep was…warm and vague and youma-less.

The digital clock glowed 11:18 when Serena jerked awake. Entangled in her blankets, she let out a muffled "grrmph!" and tumbled off the bed.

She froze, still tented under her sheets. Lita's snoring had stopped!

Minutes passed and lengthened. At long last, Serena tentatively lifted the corner of the blanket to peer out. Lita had rolled over on her side and was, for all purposes, sleeping like a baby.

Serena was to her feet and out of the bedroom like lightning. Down the stairs she flew like a sprite – had anyone seen her then, they would have taken back every time they'd ever called her a klutz.

At the back door, she paused. One hand gripped the doorknob, the other patted her pajama shirt pocket to ensure its cargo was still there. Reassured, she eased the door open and slid out into the muggy night air.

Deserted as she had felt when Darien had left that night, she was glad now that he had. Sneaking out of the house with him around would have been much more difficult.

Not a soul roamed the streets. For this she was also glad, for she suddenly realized that she had left the house in only her pajamas. Not such great planning on her part – but this wouldn't take long.

Hopefully.

Perhaps she should transform. It would certainly ease her jangling nerves – but no. Darien would probably sense her, and if he discovered her midnight jaunt – he'd kill me, thought Serena emphatically. Definitely not transforming. I'll just run.

And run she did, quickly eating up the two miles between her neighborhood and the Catholic girls' academy that stood a couple blocks from Rei's temple.

The gates were padlocked, but that was easily bypassed. Serena took a breath, crouched, and jumped. She sailed over the iron-wrought spikes, pajamas and pigtails flapping in the wind.

"Okay. Easy as cake." Serena spoke aloud, trying to distract herself from the silence that permeated everything. Why did these Catholic private schools have to have so many creepy-looking statues of suffering saints and martyrs all over? And why were they so unhappy, anyway? At least they were gong to heaven for their efforts! "Now for the hard part. Gotta find her locker."

Which would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Serena had been to Rei's school only once before in her life, when Rei brought her and Ami there because "I left a book in my locker, Odango Atama! Some of us actually DO our homework!"

The other students hadn't struck Serena as very friendly. They had stopped in conversations or in their extracurricular sports to watch Rei leading the blonde and bluenette imperiously through the halls. None of them had smiled; a couple whispered behind their hands. Serena had wondered at the time if Rei was as grumpy at school as she was the rest of the time. If she was, she couldn't blame the miko's classmates. But they still could have waited until Rei was out of earshot to talk.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that Serena could vaguely remember that Rei's locker was somewhere close to the end, by a restroom, and also that it was in the sophomore hall. But there were still at least a dozen lockers fitting that description. How was she to figure out which one belonged to Rei?

As it turned out, Rei's locker wasn't hard to find at all. It stuck out like a youma in a crowd of humans.

It was dented and the red paint chipped as though kicked by many a passing foot. A Shinto symbol and the words "Jesus Hater" had been daubed on the scratched metal.

"Those bitc – ullies!" exclaimed Serena heatedly, her face flushing in indignation. How long had this going on? Rei's locker hadn't been like this the first time she'd seen it, a couple months ago! Was this why Rei was so bitter?

Serena wanted nothing more than to scrub the paint clean off the locker door. But time was ticking, and she had to go. But if nothing else, the state of Rei's locker cemented Serena's resolve in what she was doing. She stood up on her tiptoes to reach the ventilation shafts slitted into the locker, and slipped the contents of her pocket through it.

She stalked out of the school with perhaps less caution than she should have; her fury at Rei's treatment distracted her from stealth. Consequently, she failed to notice the shadow that streaked down from a tree to stand in the middle of her path until she physically ran into it.

And no, it wasn't Darien.

It was the only other blonde currently residing in Juuban, decked out in full Senshi regalia. And looking dangerous.

"What were you doing in there?"

Serena's first instinct was to turn and run. A phantom pain had begun to sear in her temple, as though imploring Serena to leave before it was torn open anew.

But looking at Mina, so similar in build and color to her, Serena saw an image. An image of what she could be, a pseudo-reflection. Mina was not so different from her. That narrowing of her eyes, that determination in her chin, that threat in her stance – Serena could have that, too.

Mina had nothing that Serena did not.

So Serena drew herself up to her full length, mirroring Mina's bellicose pose. "We don't have to be enemies, Mina."

Sailor Venus's glowering eyes glowed in the darkness like radioactive acid. "You know nothing of what has to be," she snapped.

"We're all fighting for the same thing, aren't we?" Serena plowed on determinedly. "We all want to get rid of the Dark Kingdom and keep everyone safe."

"I don't give a damn about the Earth or its people!" Mina spat. "I would let the whole Dark Kingdom loose on them if not for the princess!"

Serena's eyes widened. She felt like a fish flailing out of water, plucked out of the world she had known and plopped down into a perfectly foreign one. "But – but – we're all the same, aren't we?" she said weakly. "We're all Senshi – "

HISS – CRACK.

Serena's eyes snapped wide as the chain buckled into her head again.

"But…" Her voice was a whisper, her expression disbelieving. A slippery stream of blood coated her eyelid and coursed down her cheek in neat trails, as though traced by a phantom finger.

"I can see now" said Sailor Venus, grabbing Serena by the collar and using the hem of her pajamas to wipe the blood from her whip. Serena stared blankly down at her as though Mina was someone she had never seen before. "That you are no Senshi. You are weak. You know nothing of what it is to be Senshi."

She snorted in disgust and threw Serena down.

But instead of landing in a boneless heap on the sidewalk, the little blonde snapped into a crouch. Her face was to the ground, her bangs curtaining her face, but her eyes shone through, fastened on Mina. They glowed white.

Plip.

Plop.

Blood dripped steadily as raindrops from the gash the Love-Me Chain had bitten into the blonde's head.

Minako stared at the waif's glowing eyes, transfixed. There was something about them, something familiar, something nagging – it was as though they were a puzzle piece to a puzzle she had not even realized existed…

Plip.

Plop.

The waif moved. Still crouched, cradling itself, it pulled a golden object into its curled embrace. Words were whispered and light flashed, and then Venus's reflection stood before her in blue and red.

"If all Senshi are like you," it said, "then I do not want to be Senshi."

"Mars," said Venus suddenly. "Do you ever…hate yourself?"

Mars glanced up from the lava that she swam within. Only Venus could ever accompany her on these excursions: none of the other Senshi were accustomed to the intense heat that Martians cherished and Venusians tolerated.

"You're asking this of the girl who was sired by Satan." Mars' voice was disbelieving. "Daughter of sin."

"Don't be flippant," said Venus. "That's my job. Without jesting, Mars…do you?"

Mars regarded Venus with her steady gaze for a long moment. Strange how Mars' eyes, which were not iris and pupil but flames and danced constantly, still managed to have the steadiest gaze that Venus had ever had trained on her.

"Yes."

Venus waited for more. She fidgeted, but did not speak. Mars moved at her own pace, especially when it came to talking. She did not take kindly to prompting.

"You are looking for a solution," Mars stated. "I have not found one. Hating oneself is perhaps good, I think. Like bathing in lava, letting something painful burn away the affects we have given ourselves."

"Why would something painful be good?" Venus raised an eyebrow.

"Because it is a warning." Mars' fathomless eyes burned out into the distance. She was past Venus, past Senshi. She ascended to a different level with her powers, and Venus often envied that ability. "Have you never noticed, Venus, that we hate ourselves most when we are hating other people?"