Mamoru
I hadn't slept well that night. I hadn't slept well any night, but knowing that she was in Tokyo and knowing that she was so close and yet so far from me was gutting. By the time I rolled out of bed and managed to make my apartment presentable, it was almost mid-morning. This was so unlike me. On any given day I was organized and focused, like a well-tuned machine that thrived off order and routine.
Perhaps it was that drive for sameness that blinded me to the changes unfolding right before my very eyes. I examined myself in the bathroom mirror, tracing the dark circles and lines that seemingly appeared overnight, hoping that if I just focused hard enough on the picture in front of me that I could bring forth change on will alone.
But that's not the way things work. After a while, even the hardest of stones cave to the power of a single drip of water.
Everyone was supposed to arrive around noon, so when my buzzer rang at 11 a.m., I was quite surprised. It wasn't that I didn't think any of them would be so punctual, more so that they weren't usually that punctual, except for, say, Ami.
I swung open the door and stilled. Usagi stood with her hands folded neatly at her front. Her eyes were cast downward, intensely focusing on a spot somewhere on the floor. It wasn't until I let out a heavy sigh that she looked up at me and relaxed her shoulders, but her expression was already giving her away. Her brow was furrowed and every muscle in her body was wound so tightly, it was all I could do not to reach out and comfort her.
"Hi." I was such a coward.
"Hi." She clearly was, too.
She shuffled in and looked around the room as if she had never been there before. Seeing her eyes dart around made me irrationally angry. There was something she was holding back from me, something she was saying without actually speaking, and I had to stop myself from spewing out the catalogue of scenarios running through my head.
"So," I shoved my hands in my pockets. "You're early."
Everything about her—from the way she stood to the way she smelled—was different. It was like a complete stranger had arrived at my doorstep and was now accessing the life I had built for her—for us. Haruka was right when she said I should fight for her and tell her how I felt, but sadness had made way to indignation, and now instead of wanting to piece my life back together, I had the sudden urge to smash it apart.
"Are you going to talk to me or not?" My voice was bitter. She physically winced.
"I don't know what to say," she started.
"I think I know what you're going to say." It was taking everything in me not to shout. "I'm not stupid, Usagi, I can feel when I'm getting rejected."
Her eyes flit up and seared into mine. They were full of tears and worry but they weren't full of misunderstanding. I had hit the nail right on the head.
"Mamo," her voice was shaky. "You don't understand—"
"You're absolutely right. I don't understand. But I'm sick of playing a fool, so you either tell me and we just get this over with or you don't and we can try to pretend it never happened knowing full well we won't be able to forget."
She swallowed hard, clasping her hands together in front of her as if she were sending a prayer up into the sky.
"I can't explain how it happened, Mamoru, it just did."
"Just say it."
"I didn't—there was just no way to—"
"Just say it."
"You have to understand that—"
"Just say it!" My voice boomed and I saw her muscles tense.
"Okay," she quivered. "The truth is that when I was at Dimande's castle... he and I... we got together."
One thousand glass shards splintered through my heart, each slicing open an artery of blood. I could feel it rush from my face and the room seemed to tilt, but I was so dazed it was hard to tell which part was up or down. Not that I hadn't been expecting this—unfortunately, I had—but hearing the words actually spill out of her mouth was a betrayal that nothing could've prepared me for.
And then—and then—she had the audacity to step forward and place her hand gently on my arm as my knees buckled and I tumbled to the couch. My fingers pressed against my forehead and I was blazing hot and ice cold at the same time, and the contents of my stomach smashed against the walls of it, causing my throat to constrict.
"Mamo?" She said softly.
What did she think was going to happen when she shared this information with me? Yes, I had asked for it, but I asked for it because I felt that I deserved it. The damage was already done. I could see it, Haruka and Setsuna could see it, and god only knew if the other scouts had any inkling about her liaisons with Dimande.
Would they accept it? Would they understand? And if they could, how could they? How dare they? All the fire in my belly started to burn with an intensity that propelled me up and back on my feet.
"How could you do this?" I shouted as I paced. "How could you cheat on me?"
"We broke up!" She snipped. "Don't you remember? You didn't have time for me anymore!"
Another sharp needle in the heart.
"I…" Really, I didn't have a leg to stand on. For weeks she had been asking me to spend more time with her, to be more thoughtful and affectionate, and I had failed in that regard. And, for a split second, I had considered it: What if we just weren't together? What if we weren't Endymion and Serenity, what if we were just two people who happened to fall in love and then fell out of love?
But the moment she was out of my reach was the moment I realized what a fool I had been. It wasn't just a string of fate that tied us together. The thing between us was centuries old, sure, but what cemented it was the present—the now. Without her, I was nothing.
"You don't have anything to say because you know it's true," she cried.
"How could you do this to me, Usagi?" My voice cracked.
She grimaced, wounded and confused, and scoffed. "How could I do this to you? Do you always want me to be a woman begging at your feet, waiting for you to be done with whatever it is you're doing to give me the love I think I deserve? Did you think some mythical story of our past was enough to feed me?
"Sometimes I feel like that's all I ever am to anyone." Heavy tears streamed her cheeks. "All I have known for nearly a decade has been my duty to Sailor Moon and to Princess Serenity. It's been at the forefront of every single decision I've ever made and when it looked like it was all done, everyone else got to make way for the new things in their lives and I was left with just the relationships I thought I had."
She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Raw and emotional, her chest heaved and a sob ripped through her lips. Had I ever seen her like that before?
"I wasn't asking you to give up your dream or to change who you were, I was asking you to let me be part of it. I was asking for you to see me—not Sailor Moon, not Princess Serenity—and I wanted you to help me find whoever this new me could've been as Usagi Tsukino."
Could've been. She didn't say "am" or "will be," she said "could have." It was no longer a question of what path she might choose, it was now a question of when she would depart.
"Have you…" I tried to find the right words. "Have you decided, then?"
She adjusted her sleeve without looking at me and nodded her head.
"I love you with every piece of me, Mamoru," she choked. "I just don't know if this serves me the way it used to."
I flung off the couch, rushing over to her before landing on my knees. Resting my hands on her legs, I pulled myself closer to her. All of the shine in her blue eyes was gone, eclipsed by the tears still floating in them. She was white as a sheet and now that I was this close, I could see she was shaking just a bit.
"Usako," I whispered. "I would do anything—anything—to make this right. I don't care what you've done with Dimande. I don't care what promises you've made him. What we have is so much stronger than that. If I have to spend every day and night on my knees showing you, proving to you that I can be a better man, I will do it. But please don't give up on me yet. Please."
She opened her mouth to speak, but a crack of lightning interrupted her thought. Just moments before there hadn't even been a sign of inclement weather. In fact, that day was particularly clear and beautiful, and yet inky black storm clouds rolled across the sky with alarming speed.
We both rushed to the window. Outside, a storm swirled unlike any other I had ever seen. The clouds weren't just clouds, they were impenetrable columns of smoke glowing from the inside out as bolts of light jutted from all sides. At its peak, it rotated clockwise, spinning until it revealed the spire of a dark, crystal tower.
"Where's Tokyo Tower?" Usagi said, her voice quivering.
I scanned the skyline, but with the clouds being so impossibly thick, it was hard to see anything. That's when I realized the spire I was staring at was in the exact same place as the tower.
Looking down, I saw a surge of smoke rippling from one of the main roads, down alongside the sidewalks and up through the alleyways. I propped open a window to get a better look. Side by side we poked out our heads, carefully examining the street down below. People were running in every direction and while we were too high up to hear precisely what they were saying, the ominous echo of screams and shouts permeated the air.
"It's Pitre." Usagi clutched her brooch, ready to transform.
"You can't go out there," I told her. "It's too dangerous."
"Mamoru, if you want to start proving to me you're a better man, let's start with this." I had never seen her this confident. As much as it thrilled me, it made me sad to know she had only found her voice after succumbing to Dimande. "We have to fight our way to the tower to stop this madness."
I nodded my head despite the pit in my stomach. It had been so many years since I was Tuxedo Mask, but Usagi was right. Pitre would stop at nothing to terrorize the people of Earth and we had to be the one to stop him.
As our alter egos, we rushed down the stairs and through the lobby. It might be conspicuous under normal circumstances, but thanks to the smoke, everyone down there was now cowering behind the front desk. Against the glass was a smattering of black, grey and purple. It moved like sand in a tidepool.
A hand crashed against the glass followed by a face. It was a young man dressed in a business suit, his face scraped and bruised. He smeared his hand against the window leaving a trail of crimson red blood and screamed before being ripped backward into the darkness. Usagi made a move toward the door and as much as I wanted to hold her back, I knew I couldn't. She was determined to join this fight and I had to join her.
She ripped it open, smoke seeping in as she did and quickly jumped out into the street. I was hot on her heels and followed her, grabbing her arm as she started running forward. Surprisingly, she took my hand in hers, but in the darkness I could not see her face. As our feet hit the sidewalk, we stood still. My eyes tried to sparse out what was around me but it was as if we had been sucked through a blackhole and were covered in pitch darkness.
A scream rang out and then another before I heard a loud snap. What followed was a sound I had never heard before—a blood curdling shriek of a man and then another snap. Bone, I thought to myself. That's the sound of bones.
"It's the hellhounds," Usagi shouted to me, still gripping my hand. "They're killing people."
"What do we do?" I asked.
"We have to find a way to get rid of the smoke," her voice was oddly calm. "Then we can see them and stand a chance of fighting them."
Everything was too thick to see. Even if we could get rid of a little bit of smoke, it would only be a few feet in diameter. That would mean we could only fight in the very small area around us, and to stop the smoke we had to make our way to Tokyo Tower, which was at least a half mile on foot.
Something crashed into me and when I looked down, I saw it was an old man. His shirt had been ripped clean open, exposing four long gashes right through his skin. He was losing a lot of blood already and it was pooling on the ground next to him as he choked for breath.
"They're monsters," he gasped, his body white as a sheet. His hands roved over his core and when they brushed the entrance of his wound, he winced. "They're...they're demons!"
Usagi crouched down and rested a hand on his shoulder, easing him back down as he fought to rise again. All the color was draining from his face and a glassiness coated his eyes. They pulsed as he looked at her, wondering if that was the last thing he would ever see.
"Sailor Moon," he quietly cried. "You're back."
"I'm right here," she said softly, flattening a stray hair on his head. "I'm here with you."
"I hadn't seen you in so long." A single tear streamed down his cheek. "I knew you'd come back."
Usagi choked back a cry of her own. His limbs went rigid and his eyes wide before he exhaled from the bottom of his chest. All the light in his soul broke free. He left the Earth, his body still present but his life force floating off into the ether. The weight of him sank Usagi toward the ground, and I reached out to pull her up. Blood soaked her white gloves.
"How can anyone be this evil?" Usagi whispered, the pain in her voice palpable.
"Usako," I said softly, but as soon as I did, a roaring whoosh came from behind her. From the shadows emerged a beast: A werewolf-like monster with glowing red eyes. In one quick leap it charged at Usagi, who was still partially on the ground. Without even thinking I lunged, too, extending my cane between my hands to catch the monster's throat.
It pushed directly into its trachea and jolted the hellhound back. It screamed and rolled back on the balls of its feet before bringing its claws to its neck, feeling for a puncture. I took the moment to my advantage, jumping forward again to tackle it onto the ground. Into the smoky darkness we rolled. Adrenaline spiked in my muscles, giving me an extra bit of strength as I pinned it underneath me.
Using my hips as leverage, I threw myself back and extended my hand onto the hellhound's face. I had never attempted my La Smoking Bomber attack so close before, but then again, I hadn't been in a position quite as precarious as this. A hit at close range would at the very least render it immobile, and at best kill it completely.
A flash of light broke from my hand, illuminating a significant portion of the area we were in. I tried not to look, but my eyes could not be stopped. In the ring of sight that was now mine, there were abandoned purses and briefcases, smears of blood along the sidewalk and even a child's toy now covered in black soot.
"You're a monster," I hissed, curling my fingers around its skull. "You're a monster!"
Under my hand the pressure was already building, and when I released it, it made a devastating crunch. The hellhound howled and wiggled its body underneath mine, attempting to break free as the light penetrated its brain, but it was too slow. A deafening boom rippled over us and I was kicked back off the monster from the ricochet.
"Mamo!" Usagi shrieked. "Behind you!"
I rolled up from my back and onto my knees, whipping my head around to see another hellhound charging forward. I unfurled my clenched fist, aimed and shot another attack. A beam of light sailed from my palm, spinning and then bursting in an explosion, totally enveloping the creature and mowing it down almost instantly.
Before the glow was gone completely, I checked behind me. The first hellhound no longer had a head, and the second was twitching on the ground with a giant hole in its chest. I was victorious. My power still worked. Maybe we stood a chance after all.
Usagi rushed to my side and helped me stand. We didn't have much time to waste: The brilliant light drew the hellhounds like moths to a flame, and red eyes dotted all around us. We stood back-to-back in a sad attempt to count them all. One set, two sets, three sets: A seemingly endless supply of hellhounds and only two of us.
"I want you to know what ever happens, I love you, Usako," I told her, swallowing hard. "I will love you for the rest of my life here on Earth and otherwise."
"Don't say that Mamoru." She was shaking. "You're going to live—we're going to live."
I knew she believed it. Deep down I wanted to believe it, too. Surrounded by these beady eyes and feeling the power draining from me after my last two attacks, I wasn't so sure. If I had to die fighting to save her life, I would die a happy man. All those months I had failed to prove to her that I loved her. I wouldn't make the same mistake again.
"Come get me!" I screamed, stepping out. "I will kill you all before I let any of you touch her!"
All of the beasts howled and snapped, clicking their claws against the concrete. The sound of their saliva sloshing around in their mouths made my stomach turn—they were hungry for a bite of flesh. Their eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, as if they were circling, and a few poked their snouts through the fog, eyeing us with curiosity.
"I love you, Usagi Tsukino. I will always love you."
I stepped forward. I pressed my hand out. I summoned the light.
"No, Mamoru!" She screamed.
This was it. I would die fighting. I would never let them take from me what I had so foolishly thrown away. Not again.
Then, right at the center heading toward us, the smoke separated and greyed, now more translucent and open. The beasts stopped, their red eyes going back into the darkness. Their bodies stopped moving and shifting. Each second it became lighter and lighter, revealing all of the hellhounds becoming more erect, almost as if they were suspended in animation.
The fog created a pseudo aisle and the hellhounds parted. From a few yards away another clicking sound echoed out, but not of claws. It was shoes. And then a silhouette appeared, walking excruciatingly slow and calculated, but the beasts did not fear them. It was almost like they...
Out stepped a man wearing a perfectly pressed burgundy jacket and white pants, completely unaffected by the chaos around him. Everything about him was powerful. Even the hellhounds bent to their knees in his presence. Despite his small stature, he loomed 10 feet tall. His pale skin was milky against the smoke, his black hair wearing it like a crown and his green eyes grazed over us in amusement and pity.
"Usagi," the man deviously grinned. "How funny we should meet like this."
"Pitre," Usagi hissed.
Pitre. In the flesh. In Tokyo.
I braced myself for a fight I was unsure I could win.