Usagi stumbled down the temple steps in complete confusion and doubt. It had been a hard Senshi meeting, called for the specific purpose of talking about her and Kamen's little jaunt through the college gardens that night. The girls had not been happy about her running off with the masked vigilante, and nothing could persuade them that she hadn't been committing treason. Maybe that was some of her confusion, she wondered, maybe that was the upsetting fact. Maybe it was the strange difference between what others saw, and what the Senshi saw. Two entirely different beings existed in the same person: one, the embodiment of all things good and courageous and right, the other, a pitiful little nobody that couldn't even gain the respect of her friends anymore.
God, it hurt –she hurt. Everywhere. Her arms ached and throbbed with the effort it took to hold them steady against her face, her legs burned and her chest felt constricted. The crows screamed and shrieked in the distance, the cooling air tugged at her uniform in playful abandon. Unlike any other day, though, she didn't have the heart to pay attention. The past few months had been a wild ride, to be sure, but last night really took the cake.
It was all from the training. The heady weightlessness that accompanied each exercise period could last hours. Thankfully, she had more than given up any hope of getting through school now, so she could just lie in bed and let the world spin around her. It was disembodying. Nausea and fatigue felt like constant companions, but she didn't dare stop. She didn't dare let go of this one thing that she could do.
Her face buried itself behind pale, shaking hands in frustration. The scent of wood and spring and grass was dying in the breeze –a sure sign that summer would soon be joining it yet again. She stifled a sob, forcing herself to breathe. Summer was leaving her, as well as any sense of hope.
The thought was a hollow thud somewhere near her heart as she walked. Grey cement peppered with shoes swam in and out of her vision, still unnoticed by the young girl. It was a sad whispering of fading summer air tugging at her pigtails, the dying sun caressing her back in forlorn sorrow. Come play, they begged her, but she couldn't listen now. She wasn't a child anymore; she had to accept that fact. But that left her in a strange place, a lost mid-road between adult and juvenile; awkward and confused about everything.
And that was why she hated Sailor Moon. Hate itself was a strong word, and not one that she would use lightly. She hated Moon, just as she hated Mamoru. It was that undecided, in-between-ness that could not be ok. She could not help being a hero, and she could not help loving a man who despised her. God, when did it all get so complicated? Moon was everything anyone wanted to see (except for maybe the other Senshi) and garnered trust and respect and awe wherever she went. She was strong and brave and had won the love of even him, of all people. What was Usagi compared to that?
But that hate drove her onward. She knew now more than ever that it was her only chance at honor. No school would allow her to pass with that, no family member would look at her as they did at Moon, no city would ever be grateful for the presence of the young school girl-the same as any other failing, ridiculous, helpless girl out there. But for Moon –now there was something everyone could enjoy. There was something worth fighting for.
So she trained. It was loveless and ugly and hard. It made her bones want to scream in agony sometimes. It made her bleed and cry and break in every way she could name, and it had only been happening for a month now. God, a month of pure hell. Too many times, she'd gone home horribly sick to her stomach and barely made it to her room before collapsing. Did the others know? Did they care? She had no idea.
All she knew now, maybe all she would ever know, was that it wasn't enough. She would have to push herself harder than ever before. She would have to be stronger than they wanted, better than they wanted. She had to prove to all of them that Moon wasn't just some ghostly hero that haunted the streets and ensured everyone's perfect protection. She wanted to show them all that Usagi was not just some weakling who would take their insults, their jabs, or their adoration just because she happened to be wearing a tiara.
It would take so much more. Her chest hurt abominably at the thought of just how much. It would take a sacrifice greater than any she had ever given. Usagi herself would never be the hero, and so must be swept away for the greater good. When all was said and done only Moon would remain. She would be a cold, distant savior who worked for the common good, who destroyed all in her path, and who did not care for the love of a man who could ruin her in turn. She would not be weak. She would not be taken lightly.
"Oh God," she moaned, hugging at her middle and shaking her head in disbelief, "I watch too many cartoons!"
Still, there was much to be done. She'd gone willingly with him last night, and that had been terribly weak of her. She'd listened to his rant even after reading that horrible article in the newsletter at Rei's the day before. She'd struck a deal with the Devil himself that would only end in a giant mess on both sides. She'd been accused of treason by the Senshi, had been put on suspension by Luna, and was soon to be grounded for a failed Japanese test. Too many stupid mistakes, and just like her to do all of them! Her teacher had probably already called the house, Luna would be making sure she didn't disappear, and Mamoru would….
Oh God, Mamoru would…. That had been the stupidest mistake of all. Chiba Mamoru was known for being the most intelligent man ever to grace Azubu Tech, and probably a whole slew of other prestigious schools as well. He'd be an idiot not to find her in a heartbeat now that she'd challenged him.
She hadn't even meant it like that. She'd just wanted to point out…
Gah, none of that mattered now. She had to stay away from him at all costs, had to muck up the lines and hide her trail as best she could. The suspension would help a little. It would keep her out of the majority of each fight, and in that case, out of eyesight a little longer. If only she knew what brought him there, what it was that let him know something was happening; she could at least focus on one thing at a time.
Almost home now. The wind was still tugging at her hair and skirt; pushing her school uniform against her skin and outlining the scrawny form beneath. She didn't want to see her mom's face, or hear what she had to say. Once the rest of the Senshi meeting was over, Luna would be next in line. Soft golden eyebrows bunched together in consternation. None of this would stop her from getting sent to bed with a measly scrap of toast and some soup.
The thought made the ground turn to liquid beneath her toes.
.
.
….
Mamoru wandered the city streets agitatedly, his mind churning over and over as the bustling scenes passed by. He'd spent the two days since that night in the college gardens compiling a list of possible names. Understandably it was incomplete, the shear number of girls he'd turned down over the last year and a half had been…enlightening. The glamour of the Senshi was so complete he was fairly sure he wouldn't recognize her even if he did catch up (otherwise he already would have). This didn't stop him from hypothesizing, though. The transformation phase could change anything about physical appearance, so he'd included all shapes and sizes. It was a different thing entirely when they came one or two at a time –he hadn't realized how many it had been since meeting the blond.
Once the list had been made, he'd written down the few things he knew of her. She was klutzy, good natured, sweet, and strong; which led to another possible list of hangouts. She probably worked out, that meant the gym, and also probably hung around the commons when not in class. Therefore, he'd gone to the gym first today, just to see who all was there. Needless to say, Itsumori, Natasha, and Yoshi were the first to be crossed off. Too graceful, too weak, or too strong it seemed. He'd noted it in his little book. Not to mention Itsumori was in a women's weight lifting competition, and Natasha spoke with a ridiculous American accent. Yoshi was probably just there for the boys.
One hand slashed through his windswept hair in shame and frustration. It didn't matter, though, the black fringe was unkempt and his clothes were rumpled and uneven. So intent he was to leave the gym behind, he hadn't bothered with his usual once-over before heading out the door. It was only the beginning of things left undone.
Even now, his books were abandoned haphazardly all over the apartment, his management homework unfinished. Food lay molding in the bottom of his fridge as he'd never allowed it to do before. He spent so much time worrying about that damn list that nothing else seemed to take any precedent at all. God, his homework, his job, his college career were going to be wrecked by some girl! Some ridiculous, wonderful, girl with eyes like soft blue stones and hair the color of perfect fairy-tale gold; she'd drive him mad.
The thought agonized him. If all that gorgeous hair went to waste in the transformation phase, he'd flat out cry. All clichés aside, it was true. God, what her eyes did to him…and the thought of touching her hair…
"Miss, miss! Are you alright?" the startled cry broke through his thoughts as he turned curiously. Across the street, people were fumbling awkwardly around someone as they slunk to the cement, neatly knocking into three or four people as they went. A businessman knelt down beside the fallen body, furthering Mamoru's interest. His curiosity piqued, he turned fully to the commotion and froze the moment a golden handful of shimmering hair glinted in the sunlight. Impossibly golden…something from a fairytale…
Another moment and he was sprinting across the street, heart pounding in agony at the thought of her…Sailor Moon…. The screeching tires and blaring horns meant nothing to him as he raced across traffic. Blood swished angrily in his ears, hoarse breaths tore at his chest. If she were hurt, if anything had happened to her…. The bus stop bench blocked his view irritatingly well as he dodged around cars and people in an effort to reach her side. Nothing else mattered –nothing but her.
"Miss! Somebody call an ambulance! You!" The older man came into view first, along with a full view of the telling long blond hair. A moment later and the bench slid aside. He sucked in a surprised breath, afraid to say anything then. The noise continued as people bustled around in panic and confusion, but none of it made any sense.
Sprawled across the deadly white cement lay a form he knew only too well. Golden hair clung to the ground like sticky fingers, navy blue skirt flapped in the breeze. The pounding, rushing sound of water ebbed. Each breath slowed and stilled within him as realization struck home. God, he was a fool.
"Odango, you amaze me." He muttered quietly, turning to leave the blond to her joy ride in the ambulance. She'd have one hell of a headache when she woke up, but that shouldn't surprise anyone after an embarrassing face-plant like that. She'd be completely humiliated when she woke up. The thought caused a wry grin to break the somber lines of his face. He was a fool too, thinking that Moon would actually be in trouble on the streets. The woman took on demons from another world almost nightly.
And well, he had other things to think about. Moon, for instance, or that damn homework that had been hanging around his apartment for weeks without a second glance. There could be a way to divide the list of names up in a logical order depending on personality traits. But then, if he wanted to spend all that time figuring out rankings according to that, it could take months and he still had that homework. But homework took away from the most important things, like figuring out who Moon was!
"Excuse me, sir!" someone called, breaking his troubled, and somewhat circular, train of thought. He turned back again, noting the curious gaze the business man dealt him from the ground. He cleared his throat pensively, looking back and forth between them before he spoke again. "Do you know her? Could you…help us out a little?"
"Uh, I guess." Mamoru awkwardly raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. He didn't really want to be mixed up in Odango's affairs at all, and this guy didn't seem to catch the drift. "Her brother works at Crown, you could probably take her there instead of the ambulance. She hates hospitals." Where…had that come from? Random. Well, Crown was close, and the older man looked perfectly capable of either carrying or finding someone else to carry her.
"That might be a bad idea-unless this kind of thing happens often?"
This time, he really did chuckle.
"Whatever. Knowing her, she probably drank too many milkshakes and not enough water." Too caught up in his own amusement at the comment, he didn't bother to note the apparent disgust running through the small group.
"Bastard." Someone spat from his left, forcing the grin to slide from his face.
"Well, look. I'm going to be late for a meeting if I don't get going, and you don't look like you're headed anywhere important." The business man checked his watch quickly. "Why don't you take her to her brother's or call someone or something. At least you know her."
And that was how he found himself hauling around the little shrimp like some creepy knight in shining armor. God, if anyone saw this he'd have that on his plate too! Damn idiot, making him feel guilty just because he knew her name! He was wasting valuable time over something that she could have easily avoided had she had some semblance of a brain rattling around underneath all that blond hair. Well, he should know better than to expect anything from the short spitfire other than whining, wailing, and any other immature tantrums. Including this.
He sighed, shifting her weight more out of irritation than discomfort. She wasn't terribly heavy, and like his thought earlier, it was nice and cool out. It was just stupid to waste a good hour of his time getting her to the Crown and making sure Motoki knew about it. His friend would not be happy, especially if he ever found out Mamoru had tried to leave her to her fate on the street. The blond was really over protective, and frankly, illogical. Left to her own devices, the Odango would probably learn a hell of a lot more about the facts of life. Too many people meddling in things, saving her when she should be strong on her own two feet -the whole situation caused things like this. It was a whole lot of trouble that could have been avoided.
Of course, if he hadn't come running the second he saw a spot of gold, he could have continued on his little walk without any interruption either. Damn kid, making him think of Moon. The irritations just didn't seem to end today. Of course, he'd known that was going to be the case when he woke up to a pot of fresh coffee…with the grinds from yesterday. Then there'd been the spoiled eggs in his fridge, the laundry overflowing in his bedroom, the textbooks littering his living room like a battle field, and the wall of suspects that still had no foreseeable end in sight.
So Odango was just a fun little continuation of a bad-day-gone worse. Joy. He shot her sleeping form an irritated glance, wishing someone she knew would walk by now that they were getting closer to her favorite hangout. Instead, he was sure he spotted at least one fan eyeing him curiously from across the street. His mouth tightened into a firm, angry line. Too late to go back now.
"Oi! Motoki-kun!" The arcade doors had barely parted before he started calling for the tall blond man. The faster he got rid of her, the better. God, he was never going to live it down! Knowing his luck, someone probably snapped a picture of it for that stupid publication. Curses flew through his mind in rapid succession, but his eyes were focused on the worker currently hunching over a videogame in the back.
"What's up, Mamor-Usagi-chan! Oh my GOD! Is she ok, what happened! Bring her back, Unazuki! Come upfront! Now!"
He all but tripped his way to the back room, obvious panic breaking the usual smoothness of his motions. The shy redhead glanced out curiously from the break room, green eyes taking in the small bundle hanging limply from Mamoru's arms. Like her brother, he noted, her reaction was horrified instead of mocking. God, what a weird family. Must be something in their genes. Come to think of it, everyone was freaking out about this way more than they should be –it was just the Odango, and she probably did stupid shit like this all the time.
Goddamn kid, always screwing things up. She always did that.
"I'll get it!" her rushed answer barely broke his thoughts as he pushed by her. Motoki flung boxes from the broken booth seat in wild abandon before turning to take her small body from the uncaring embrace of his best friend.
The gentle concern bothered him, and he hated Motoki's focus. God, all of this just because –god, he'd said it a million times now. Thought it, at least…stupid blond. He always felt so…turned around when she was there. It was probably her ridiculous personality clashing against his or something –made him…illogical. A sneer broke across his face as soda exchanged hands and Motoki's gentle hands were holding her steady to tip the glass against her mouth. He couldn't watch anymore. Irritated the hell out of him.
He didn't bother to glance back as the door closed swiftly behind him. Better to leave her to her 'older brother' than stand around being pissed and accomplishing nothing.
At least that crossed one name off his list for good. Moon would never be so pathetic –or so young.
.
.
….
Usagi had sat in the shadowed back room for nearly 2 whole minutes without understanding what had happened. One moment, she'd been rushing through the streets of Tokyo on her way to a training session, and the next Motoki was ordering her to eat a huge pile of fries. She must be losing her mind. Of course, she had no idea how many times that exact thought had crossed her mind in the past few months. It seemed there was no room for anything else there anymore.
It was nice back here, no one around. The fries tasted old and chalky, the soda flat and watered down. She hurt. Oh god, she hurt. Every bone and joint ached with movement and every time she bothered to think about training, tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. The pressure choked her now, the hours and hours she'd spent kicking her butt on the field to even get a smidge better and still she had nothing to show for it. There was nothing, at least, but the slow ache leaking from her marrow, and from her skull like oozing tears.
It didn't take much from there to figure out what had happened. Breath hissed from between her clenched teeth as she forced each leg to move. What a moron she could be –and how careless.
"Usa-chan?" Fire raced across her as she jumped, thoughts jumbling together at the creak of the door behind her. Her neck began to crane toward the visitor, but it was too much. Tears rolled down her face, untouched by the leaden hands at her sides. Oh, how could she hurt so much?
Gentle, nearly indiscernible footsteps swished across the cold cement floor. Even when in nurturing mode though, Usagi could feel the heat, the barely contained fire brewing within her friend and fellow Senshi. She wondered if all of them were like that –the human form of their powers. Glittering violet eyes, smoldering, flickering black hair, quick and agile movements; the fire Senshi came forward into her line of sight like an unseen explosion. One word could light the path ahead in painful clarity, or turn any hope into cinders. If she were capable of it, Usagi might have disliked Hino Rei for her inherent command of power. It wasn't because she was jealous, because who would want to be the leader of such a group, but that she feared being torn apart by someone she loved. Again.
"Motoki-kun called. You ok?" For the first time ever, Usagi noticed a hint of something new in her friend. It was a feeling she herself had felt almost constantly since this whole thing started, but Rei had always been on the front line without a single hesitance. But it was that exact thing staring her in the face then. "I brought a few things; he said you'd probably be sore…"
"Rei-chan…" Usagi began, wishing she could at least stop the tears from flowing. She felt so pathetic and weak when compared to the other girl.
"Ibuprofen, aspirin cream, and chamomile tea. Now lean forward and I'll rub her neck down for you."
"I'm so sorry," The blond began, whimpering at the touch of cold cream against skin. Rei moved with precision and purpose, spreading the cooling liquid gently until the tingle covered her arms and back.
"Hush, Usagi-chan. You should have told us you had blood sugar problems. And I'm sure all the working out and not eating right didn't help any of that." Obediently, even meekly, the patient sat with quiet thoughts as Rei spoke. "Still, the fact that you've been working so hard is very impressive."
"Arigato."
"Still, something needs to be done so you don't hurt yourself." The ibuprofen was starting to take effect now, cooling the screeching nerves and dimming the blinding pain from the forefront.
"Hai."
"No unnecessary risks." The darkness of the room returned on gentle, bearable feet. Her arms were light and cool.
"We love you, Usagi. Don't forget that." She couldn't help but smile.
"…hai."
.
.
…
The weighted chain whipped through the air like a glittering serpent's tongue. Blood tinged the cold, grey metal weight welded firmly to the tip; fresh streams showered their gory bounty across the stone cold earth. The cool autumn air shivered in the wake of a maniac laugh, Mars bound away from the deadly weapon, though it grazed her already wounded arm in the process. The newest member of the team was raging across the field, energy crackling and arching between her fingers. Mercury blasted the area with a freezing mist, but her voice was harsh and tired with the effort it took to cast it. They all had put up the best fight possible, but it was obvious all three were in over their heads.
It was cold out. Mid-autumn air burned slightly on the edges of his ears as he watched over the fight silently. An appropriate time of year, no matter who you were, even the Dark Kingdom couldn't have evaded the much glorified holiday. Why it had chosen this particular Youma remained a mystery, as one could assume that a simple energy gathering mission would have had greater success during the frantic dash and grab feel racing through the city. Ah, but well, he'd never expected them to think so far in advance.
His form was easily hidden behind nude branches of a nearly-bare tree. He had always assumed the uniform was meant for show alone, but to find it had certain concealment capabilities had come as a pleasant surprise; especially in moments like this. Masked eyes searched the grounds, once more taking in the struggling warriors and grudgingly admitting they weren't half bad against the possessed samurai steadily hacking at their defenses. Other than the present Senshi, it would appear the battlefield was empty. Had he been any other man, he would have assumed that Moon wouldn't grace them with her presence tonight.
He was not any other man, however, and she was already here. His hot little obsession had taken to stepping in at the last minute to finish off what the others left behind in a ridiculous attempt to avoid him. A low growl built up in the back of Kamen's throat, though he didn't give in to it. She was proving to be disturbingly clever behind that happy-go-lucky façade. He hadn't planned for all of this to happen when he approached her 3 months ago. She was supposed to just grin, say yes, maybe give him a nice, long kiss… not challenge him to some demented mind game. The worst part about it was the fact she seemed to be thinking three steps ahead of him, making it impossible to pick her out of the hordes. The little brat was toying with him, and he didn't like that feeling at all.
She hadn't transformed yet. The only reason he'd known about the battle in time to witness it was due to a misspent night out with the boys. He'd had to beg pardons from Newton and Einstein when the first fireball had hit close enough to stir his coffee for him. The librarians had ushered everyone toward the offices in back while Mamoru slipped out the window inconspicuously. The following explosions had lasted a good thirty-five minutes now, and the beast showed no signs of slowing. Moon would be forced to show herself, and he was biding his time until she did.
That is, for another 50 minutes or so. Motoki had sworn on the deathbed of his ancestors (strange, given the 'burial' ceremony of the island) that Mamoru would attend at least one party this year. It had never before been much of an issue. He was disturbingly sure it was due to his wild confession to the press.
The wispy katana slithered through the air, aimed to neatly sever Mercury's head free; however, the meek genius proved herself adequately limber as she dodged back, bending herself nearly in half to avoid the hissing blade above her. The act of evasion was maybe less effective as the arch changed to strike across her abdomen and sent her spinning into the hard-packed earth. The other two leapt to her aid as the pain-filled shriek filled the glen.
This particular Youma was ranked an assassin, simply because it held no particular gathering capabilities and seemed to be designed specifically to defend against their powers. The only one doing any actual damage was Jupiter, her lightning manipulation skills too fresh to be understood by the enemy. Kamen had only seen her twice in the past several months, and he was sure she had only been inducted a few weeks ago. Mars and Mercury had been with Moon for so long that he'd been half convinced that they were the only other Senshi out there. At Jupiter's appearance, he wondered curiously if there were an entire solar system's worth down to Neptune.
Another heavy flash of green and thunder boomed across the dying grass, returning his thoughts to the fight before him. Jupiter was holding her own against the Samurai as Mars drug Mercury aside to tend to her sword cut. Given the amount of red dying her white fuku, Kamen realized it could be a fairly dangerous wound. Back when he'd declared pre-med, he would have been completely distracted in diagnosing the thing long distance to test his skills. That would have been stupid anyway.
The familiar rush of adrenaline rippling through his chest painfully broke this train of thought and he straitened instinctively. The white hot tiara arched across the grounds a little to his left before she emerged from the trees. His heartbeat thundered excitedly in his chest at the sight of her familiar curves. She looked even better than he remembered her for some reason. The moonlight seemed even more definitive across her body as she leapt forward sans the usual speech.
The tiara connected against the Youma's sword hand, returning to the short blond as an agonized screech rumbled in its wake. She moved faster, hit harder and basically seemed more on top of her game than he'd seen before. Of course, after watching the slow, exhausted moves of the other three, anyone would look amazing. Moon herself wasn't exactly the greatest fighter; he realized that and freely admitted it. However, the show proved to be impressive despite the fact.
She jumped, flying roundhouse, shocking even Kamen, as it slammed heavily into the monster's head and sent it sprawling into the dirt. He hadn't even realized Moon could land a hit like that! It was something he'd have to ask her when he cornered her after the fight. She dove forward, avoiding the Chinese stars with effortless grace and landed a left hook right into the jaw, once again knocking her opponent back.
The astonished whistle was cut short as classic Moon got her foot caught on something and nose-dived into the grass. He couldn't help the resulting chuckle. She was just too adorable. How in the hell had he made it so long without seeing her? The samurai whooped triumphantly, aiming his sword for the death blow and signaling Kamen's heroic entrance.
This was the fun part, he thought as he rocked forward. The cane slid neatly from his subspace pocket, following two blood red roses. The tiny missiles landed with perfect accuracy, slicing both across the sword arm and the quickly descending tip to deflect the blow. A quick howl and a shot of blood later, Kamen landed in a perfect crouch, cane whipping upward to swipe away the errant blade before the creature could regain its momentum. Switching hands, he shot forward, landing the end neatly in its stomach and launching the beast into the air.
His second concern was Moon, though by the time he'd knocked the wind out of it, she'd found her footing again. She looped around him, barely a rustle of clothing, before landing a heavy axe kick directly into its neck. The thing howled in pain, limbs churning in the cold air.
"Moon! Duck!" Jupiter's gruff voice boomed across the space between them. Kamen leapt forward at the command, knowing if he had bothered to search for it, the answering reflex would have been too late. Suddenly, the world was filled with Moon and earth. His movement was none too soon as, above the prone couple; glittering throwing knives slithered in the crackling autumn air.
"You know, you don't have to stiffen up on my account." Kamen muttered to the bundle of gold in his arms. His rib cackled in pain a moment later and she rolled away from him in a huff.
"Perv!" He was still trying not to laugh when she called over one shoulder and ran back to join the fight.
"Supreme Thunder!" The glade boomed loud enough to make his ears pop. The deaf monotone drowned a bone-rattling crack as sturdy wood gave way. Ominously looming branches quickly became crushing talons as he leapt forward with all his strength. Hopefully it would be enough to not just clear the distance of the trunk, but knock Moon away too.
The weight quickly bore the hero to his knees, another branch delivering a solid thump alongside the skull as he fell. Fluttering lights scrawled across both eyes before chin met earth with a resolute smack. And, as always in such comical situations, a few stray leaves drifted aimlessly down to settle on his already aching head.
"Well, I guess that takes care of the Youma." Jupiter muttered with some sense of humor above him. It hurt, yet the man couldn't help but risk a glance back toward the hulking figure. The twisted branches flailed around him like a spider's web, some of the larger bits holding on by sap and willpower alone. There, skewered like Youma-kabob, lay the assassin; a large, dead tree branch protruding from its stomach.
"Good thinking, hitting it with the tree like that, Jupiter. Obviously wood was its weakness." He glanced around, noting the others closing in him. It was surprising to note that the fire senshi may have touched a smidge of the sarcastic with that comment. Mercury was clutching at her stomach in pain, clinging to Mars' side to make it across the glen.
"Erm, right!" the Amazonian warrior answered not a moment later. Did Mars just roll her eyes and huff?
"Are you alright?" Moon asked quietly. He twisted his head, hardly believing the luck of it all.
"Damn, I was kinda hoping it'd pin both of us down." Moon went red in embarrassment and glanced around at the other Senshi. Mars snorted.
"Yeah, he's fine." Carefully, she shifted the blue Senshi as her head lolled to the side. "I've got to get her home and cleaned up, Moon. Come with me."
"Weird night." He muttered, mostly to himself. Why had he said that out loud? And why did his head have to hurt so much?
"He's hit his head though. Should we at least lift the tree off of him?" Moon asked quietly to the other two. She lifted Mercury's other arm around her shoulder to help carry the weight as she spoke, careful not to jostle the injured girl.
"Ouch." He answered calmly. Jupiter sighed.
"I've got it."
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….
And they'd left him there.
30 minutes later, he was still laying there in the grass staring up at the sky. His legs were sore, his head ached, and the Senshi of all people in the world, had left him there. Any other moment in his life, he'd probably be bitter about that. But since none of them knew who he was, and since he assumed they knew about his healing, it probably made logical sense. Still. The Senshi; the apparent protectors of this world and the future and other…really important things- and they'd just left him there, laying on the ground. It would take another 20 minutes before he pushed himself up enough to survey the damage.
The tree had all but wreaked havoc. He'd been lucky to land where the branches thinned. The Youma, obviously, had not been so. The shear amount of weight punching through armor and bone was terrifying. Had he been under there, it wouldn't have just pinned straight through him, it would have married him to the grass.
Shaken, barely standing upright, he hobbled across the field and toward the library's dark shadow. It could have been him. In the back of his mind, somewhere deep in his chest that weight crushed and ground and scraped. They might have left him there, but at least it didn't leave him dead.
He needed some coffee.
It was a busy night out on the streets. Children and parents alike had begun the famous trek for candy. He passed millions of hobgoblins, comic book characters, and sushi on the way. The chill wind tore at his face and cape, and subtly pointed out that he'd lost his hat somewhere back there. Too bad, not that it wouldn't come back next time he transformed. It was just…messy business leaving bits of your secret identity around town. Never know when some random crime scene investigator might get smart with the DNA testing.
Once the monument of the apartment building came into view, Mamoru cursed. He'd promised to meet Motoki tonight to go to some ridiculous party. He'd even got candy. Why? Because….well…because he had. Right. Pot luck, and he didn't have time to cook. It was a good thing. He'd have to open the door for trick or treaters before the blond got there, and no screaming mob of children was going to invade the place due to lack of sugar and chocolate.
Of course, knowing his luck, Motoki had already been there and left, which was fine too. It didn't stop him from retransforming on the balcony to cover for any tears done by the branches to his uniform. Already, the door thumped like a heartbeat, loud enough to permeate the sliding glass door.
Kamen barely had time to slip in and cross the room before another round of pounding began on the door. He flung his hat toward the couch, slipped off the mask and deftly grabbed the pair of vampire teeth from the entryway table. His hands closed over both the doorknob and the candy bowl at the same time before the bright light of the hallway shattered the darkness around him.
He blinked, carefully gaining control of his jaw at the sexy picture that greeted him. Four girls, each in completely different costumes stared back confusedly. Apparently none of them were members of his fan club, because every single one of those girls knew his address. These seemed to recognize him the moment the wood slid back. It also revealed the fact that not all girls throw on a pair of animal ears and corsetry. These had obviously put a lot of thought into what they were wearing.
A tall, chestnut-haired Disney princess stood there first, looking like she'd just stepped out of that one little kid movie in butter colored satin. Someone had taken a long time to pull her hair back just right, half up in a gentle knot that left the rest of her hair falling in soft curls. Honey brown eyes were lined 2-d fashion in soft brown, and eyebrows to match. The attempt at real life cartoon was pretty convincing.
"Trick or treat!" both she and the spiky blue-haired Amazon called girlishly. He held out the bowel silently, looking over the much shorter companion in front. Her pixie-cut blue hair had been spiked straight up, and held there by an intricate wooden crown that stretched from the corner of her left eye and braided back. Her outfit was blue and black, strapped anywhere one could fit it, and complimented by a bow strung across one shoulder and a staff. Ancient looking tattoos etched the skin of her face down the opposite side, and fell down both arm and leg anywhere visible. Her costume had to be the best one he'd seen tonight, even if he had known her before, there was no telling who was beneath all of that makeup and hair gel.
The third, for all fit and flair wore a hot little white nurse getup, complete with stethoscope and clipboard. Shiny black tresses had been pulled back into a loose bun, playfully tousled to look sexy. He was fairly sure she was supposed to be an anime character, as her face had been chalked out then redrawn in blacks and reds. Her eyes were blue-green, and obviously contacts.
The last was short, yes, but her silvery-blond hair came up just below his chin thanks to the lace-up stiletto boots wrapped around her feet. She wore a slayer costume, complete with popped-collar black jacket, corset, and fishnets to show off lean, muscular legs. He felt his mouth go dry just looking at her, admiring the waterfall of silver-enhanced blond hair that hung in a loose sheet across her back. For some reason, he couldn't stop looking at her.
By the time he'd eyed each of them, they'd grabbed they're goodies and sang a thanks in unison. He nodded in return, but his eyes were still locked onto the slayer. Shy little thing, wasn't she? Violent purple eyes stared fixedly at the ground as the group turned to troupe away down the hallway to the next door. The hallway lights turned her hair into liquid silver as she walked.
"Trick or treat!" shrill little voices broke his revere, a reminder of everyone else in the hallway.
"Yeah." He returned, lowering the bowel for a muskrat, and other…creatures. Greedy little hands nearly knocked the candy out of his hand. A few tired parents smiled a thanks before the next group came through. How monotonous.
"Oi! Mamoru-kun!" Motoki's head poked out of the crowd. "Have you seen the girls yet? I saw them walk in before me."
"The girls?" His friend scanned faces in the crowd for a moment before lighting up in delight.
"Ohiyo! Usagi-chan! Rei-chan!" He chirped, raising a black arm to someone in the crowd. Usagi, ne? What did she dress up as? A Disney princess? A teacup? Someone's stuffed teddy bear complete with bowtie? He turned just in time to see a wisp of blond hair disappear behind a corner. It hadn't even looked the right shade. "Mamoru-kun, are you seriously count Dracula? What's with the collar?"
He scoffed, turning back to his friend rather than stare off down the hall in search of the girl. Motoki was wearing…a black leotard. Head to toe. With little…smiley suns on his cheeks. And yellow flip flops.
"It's authentic looking. At least I'm not a giant foam sun in a leotard.