Usagi
My heart pumped in my chest.
"It's...it's…"
"Yes," his voice was sultry, pricked by a delicious smoke. "It's me."
I begged my feet to move, but I was frozen. Overcome with fear, I just stood there, my mouth agape and electricity running up and down my skin. It had been years since I had seen Prince Dimande last, and at that time his campaign of evil nearly destroyed me and the other Sailor Scouts.
Just like he did back then, he had an aggressive aura about him that dripped in power. Everything about him screamed it. He always had confidence in spades, but this was an overwhelming magnetism. His magic was evil and strong—stronger than it was before, I sensed—but the deviousness of his smile was still the same.
"Surprised to see me?" His grip loosened just slightly, allowing me to step backward.
"How are you alive?" I was shaking like a leaf. "I thought you were dead."
"I was." His eyes roved over me in a way that made me self conscious. "But I'm not anymore, and I am in need of your services."
"Services?" My heart dropped. Last time he required my "services" both the present and the future were nearly destroyed. It seemed wherever Dimande went, destruction and chaos seemed to follow. I swallowed hard and tried to hide the fear building in my eyes, but his gaze was so intense it stripped me naked. He knew that I was in the palm of his hands.
"Yes," he pursed his lips. "You see, you have something that can help me finish out my quest. I have been aimlessly floating as a soul for so long, hoping that one day I might be able to claim again what was always mine: The throne of the Dark Moon Clan."
"I saw you die," I said firmly. "I saw it—I was there."
"Stranger things have happened." Dimande fully let go of my arms and stalked around me, drinking me in like a vulture circling its prey. "And, to be honest, I am on borrowed time. Which is why I've come to see you."
"What, exactly, do you want from me?" I relaxed my shoulders so I could shift slightly away. My feet felt like they were vibrating below me, begging me to flee as quickly as possible. What horrible timing to break up—take a break, I corrected myself—with Mamoru. I told him I needed space, and knowing that he was a respectable man,I strongly suspected he would give it to me. How long would anyone notice I was even missing?
Sadness filled my chest as I realized the only person who might suspect something was amiss was my boss, the grimy old man who ran the manga store.
There was only one option: Fight to defend myself. But without my crystal, I was facing an extremely uphill battle. Almost as if he was reading my mind, Dimande spoke.
"I need the silver millennium crystal," he said. "And I need you to be the one to wield it."
"No," I said. My face thrummed with heat and I swallowed hard. There was no way I was giving up the crystal. "Just think about the last time you tried using it for evil. Think about how that ended up for you."
"I wasn't finished." His eyes pierced into mine. "Despite what you might think, it's actually a good thing I'm trying to accomplish."
"I don't believe you," I said. "Death didn't change you at all."
"It doesn't matter what you think about me," he said. "Because you're coming with whether you like it or not."
My eyes shot to the brooch. That's when I realized he didn't know the crystal had fallen out of my hands, because if he did, he would've gone right to it. It glowed under the red light just a few feet away. It was close—but he was closer. He stalked around me in a circle, examining me in a way that felt far too intimate.
As his shoes clicked across the cement, I finally got my first good look at him.
He had ditched his all-white tunic and pants and replaced it with a fitted black shirt and jacket. The buttons of both were only connected right above the waist, revealing a hard, sculpted chest that rose and fell with every step he took. His pants were black too, and tight around his thighs.
He caught me looking at him and he let out a hearty laugh.
"I see you're just as interested in me as I am interested in you," he purred. I shook my head and jolted up straight.
"You're disgusting," I said, desperately hoping the cover of night masked the blush running through my cheeks.
"That's not what your body language is telling me, now is it, Usagi…" He grabbed my wrist and twirled me into him. Instinctively, I lurched back.
Usagi. He never called me that before. He only ever called me Serenity. Wherever he had been these past few years, something in him had changed, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. While he still seemed like the egotistical maniac who had held me captive once before, he seemed calmer. Before when he abducted me, it was as if he was clutching to a rollercoaster of emotion: of lust, of rage, of revenge. Desperation filled his lungs back then, but not now. But I just couldn't figure out why.
"We can make this easy or we can make this hard," his hand trained the length of my spine. My muscles tensed and my mouth went bone dry. Against the roof of my mouth, my tongue swirled. Should I scream? Would anyone hear me? The brooch—what would someone do when they found it?
"I'm not coming with you," I stammered. He dropped his gaze and smiled.
"I'm afraid you are," he said.
He reached out and ground me into him again, and this time we were surrounded by a plume of thick, black smoke. It swirled through my hair and danced around my nose, and I could feel it squeezing me tight. Without noticing I had even done it, my arms gripped around Dimande's waist as I braced myself for whatever the smoke was planning to do.
The last thing I saw before being sucked into the blackness was the glint of my brooch underneath Tokyo Tower's light. I clamped my eyes shut and tightened my grip.
Air whirled around me like a temperate wind. When I opened my eyes, I could see we were encased in a flowing sea of black, ribbon-like strands that whipped and rippled as we shot into the nothingness. Around it, I could only see what looked like space: A watercolor-like backdrop of purple and blue interstellar dust speckled by twinkling starlight.
The atmosphere was light, as if there was no gravity, and we seemed to be swimming up. Toward what? I wasn't sure. But what I did know is it felt like a gale force was kissing down on my face gently and intensely at the same time. I let go a ragged breath—not realizing I had been holding one in—and I shuddered against the force of the air tunnel.
Dimande's face was relaxed and sure, as if he had all the confidence that the flow would not swallow us whole.
Suddenly, we slowed. The ribbons pulled back and the wind stopped, and when I looked down I saw my feet floating above a black, slate floor. I landed softly, steadied by Dimande, who was still holding onto me with a possessive grip. His hand fell and I looked up.
Since discovering I was Sailor Moon, I had seen many fantastic castles in many mind-bending worlds. But this—this was something else. The slate tiles snaked a pathway up to a gleaming, black crystal castle. Its grand door was made of frosted, black glass and light reflected shimmering prisms. There were turrets and balconies, windows carved out of the side and engraved figures of men and women in various states of dress.
Around it was a lush garden of white flowers that smelled sickly sweet. Waist-height hedges lined the stone paths and were illuminated by hypnotizing little lights that looked as if they were alive. They floated in and out of the bushes, making them shine from within.
The sky above was a bluish-purple swirled galaxy misted with a luminous vapor that seemed to glow. A silver moon hung above the world, draping the entire castle in a radiant blanket of soft light. Only then did I realize it was night.
"Where are we?" My voice was breathless. Dimande stepped forward and gestured for my hand.
"This is my home," he said. "Well, temporarily anyway."
At the sight of his outstretched hand, I recoiled. There was no way I was going to follow him into this castle, because if I did, how certain was I that I would never see home again?
"Don't be shy," he smiled. "I swear I won't bite."
"I'm not going in there," I said. My lip quivered and I tried to fight back tears. "I'm not going with you."
"Well, it seems you don't have a choice," he turned on his heel and started walking toward the door. "Unless, you'd like to sleep out here."
While there was no doubt this castle was beautiful, the atmosphere around it gave me the creeps. It felt unearthly and cold, like I had been transported to a completely different dimension. Maybe I had been transported to another dimension.
He was right: What was I going to do staying out here? It's not like I could find my way home when I wasn't even sure exactly where I was now.
Fear filled me but I tried to steady myself. A bubble formed in my throat and my eyes welled. He needed me to wield the power of the crystal—he said so himself—so I knew I wasn't in danger of being harmed. Crying would do me no good. If I wanted to survive, I needed to remain calm.
I knew I had to go along with his plan—at least for now.
With as much caution as I could muster, I stepped forward. He reached out his hand once again but I ignored it and pushed past him toward the door. I heard him let out a small laugh and then his footsteps fell in line behind mine. When I approached the door it automatically cracked open. The crystal doors were at least twelve feet tall, and just beyond was a gorgeous entryway made of black and white marble.
Two sets of identical staircases stretched up along the backsides of the foyer, and in between was a long corridor flanked by granite statues of gods and goddesses. Light just seemed to dance above the rooms as if they were not attached to anything but magically hanging from invisible strings.
A large, crystal chandelier careened overhead, with more lights bursting around it and sending out beautiful rainbow beams. It took everything in my power not to openly gawk at the mesmerizing, yet ostentatious, display.
"Come," Dimande stood at the staircase. He gestured to the upper floor. "Your room is this way."
Reluctantly, I followed. With each step up the staircase, my stomach tightened. What could he possibly want with me now? How did he come back from the dead? Where was I? Another thought began to consume me: What if the last time I saw Mamoru would be the last time I ever saw him again?
We walked along a long corridor to get to my room. Windows lined one wall and moonlight dripped over the walls, spilling onto the floor. More of those magical lights flickered around us, but we didn't need them to see. If this was night, I wondered how bright day would be.
My room was located deep into the corridor. When Dimande opened the door, I had to stop myself from gasping. Everything was dripping in white. White marble lined the floor, white molding hung on the walls. A canopy of white, sheer fabric hand over the opulent all-white bed piled high with fluffy pillows and blankets. In the corner was a large white mirror and on the opposite side sat a small table and chair.
The only thing that wasn't white in this room was the gold designs etched into the wall. Fleur di lis dotted the corners of each design, and swirls jutted from one length of the wall to the other.
It was a room fit for a princess.
"I see that you like it," Dimande smirked. Blood rushed to my face.
"Well, I mean, it's a beautiful room," I gestured to it as nonchalantly as I could. He studied my face and laughed again. I hated how much he seemed to be amused by my response to him—to this place.
"You'll find I can be a benevolent ruler, Usagi," he turned on his heel to the door. My name again. It burned every time I heard it.
"Am I your prisoner?" I asked. He stared at me for a few seconds too long while he considered his answer.
"My darling," he said. "You and I both know you could never be anyone's prisoner."
With that, he walked out the door and shut it behind him. Part of me knew it would not be the last time I would see him at my door like this.
Clothes had already been brought to the room and I inspected them thoroughly before putting them on. They were unsurprisingly white. What was this, some play on the virginal Princess Serenity? When he first met me, that had been the case. But in the years since Dimande had gone out of my life, that had most certainly changed.
I found myself wondering if Dimande would be upset that I had given myself to Mamoru.
Oh my god, no, I told myself. Don't even go there.
I shook the thought from my mind. Dimande was a sadistic man who only cared about himself, so much so he was willing to capture innocent women in the middle of the night-not once, but twice. No matter what lies he tried to tell himself, I knew that I was his prisoner, that I was stuck here until someone came to save me, whenever that might be.
Before I crawled into bed I made my way over to the door. Gently pressing down on the handle, I jiggled it to see what would happen. Much to my surprise, it cracked open, and I quickly shut it again. Why had he not locked me in? Slowly I backed away from the door, worried that someone might've heard me push it ajar. My heart raced as I tucked myself under the covers.
It didn't matter that Dimande had seemingly left me an open invitation to leave this room, because locks were the least of my worries here.