So here it is, yet another chapter out and life is all good. Can I just say that editors make the world go 'round? On that note, Dablackrose, you rock my face off! Enjoy, and know that the last few chapters are basically done. Also, if you read chapter 14 last week, it has been changed, so please reread to get what's going on.
E
Chapter Fifteen
Midnight permeated every pore of the darkened suburb in crushing obscurity. Even the moon above refused to facilitate the oncoming crime. The murky blackness slunk across doorways and lawns, clawed through the spindly branches. Even the once silvery moon hid her face in shadow tonight. Streetlamps hummed, churning their cancerous yellow light in pools across the pitch colored ground, their measly efforts entirely swallowed by the silent night.
The foreboding outline of shoulders melted from the obscure black fog, the tilt of a face burned a hole in the inky blackness. With sharp, staccato movements, the figure swept from the shadow of a home, slithering from lawn to tree to window in fast, determined movements.
The plush, warm interior greeted him with silent welcome. Dark eyes furtively sought the gently sleeping figure tucked beneath the covers, and noted the kitten purr of the black cat at her side. The shade slid close, it's form melding with the whispering shadows of the moon above casting light on the sleeping girl. It washed the color from her face, and shimmered silver in the wisps of hair leaking out from beneath the sheets.
It was a face he knew very well, one that had never seemed so serene and ethereal. Where the wildly expressive daylight brightened and intensified the features to the point of breaking, the soft withering moonlight lent a certain delicacy. It was without adornment, without the artificial pigmentation that would have spoiled the beautiful picture of innocence she made.
Mamoru could feel the beginning of a smile long before he could force it behind the mask. His mind wandered toward their conversation in his apartment just a month back. She'd been so sad. It was the first time he'd bothered to take in the developing features of his favorite arch nemesis, and even he had been forced to admit she was more…
More thoughtful, more intense, and yet more uncertain; the girl had struck some forbidden key he had yet to understand. What if it had gone deeper? What if something terrible had happened to her family? He grimaced, setting the lost jacket down amongst dirty laundry and turning toward the room. It had sparked quite the conversation with his classmates tonight.
"Oh, very clever seamstress, yes. This is probably a prop from a stage play. Look at these seams here, very well done, yes. Meant to make you look younger."
Curiously, definitely overstepping his bounds, he turned to the small closet tucked into the corner. His fingers caught hold of soft fabric, night sharpened vision focused just long enough to pull the offending material into the moonlight. The seam was stitched just as she had described. It warped the natural shape of the body, changed the dimensions just enough to trick the mind.
"Oh, and the lining! Look at this, I want to meet her, Chiba-kun, yes, just lovely! This is for contouring. The actress must be short for it to work, but you could pass her for just a child!"
The stiff tell-tale innards of the piece were enough to confirm his suspicions. According to the school registry, Usagi was almost 17, he could barely believe it, and should be well on her way to an adult body. Yet here, lying in his hands, was proof that she was trying hard to appear much, much younger. His classmate had said you could shave up to a decade off with clever costume design and smart character. The fact that Usagi often portrayed the same mentality as a child was the perfect ploy; so perfect it was genius.
What could she possibly be hiding from?
The shadow slipped quietly from the room and down the hall. There were only so many doors, and a quiet look through each eventually led to an office split between two worlds. One side was dominated by an old, well worn desk. Across it's face spread the snapshots of a million lives, crowned by an old style camera and flash. The other side was just as simple, a shelf with stacks of fabric and projects neatly organized around a small, adequate sewing machine.
Usagi could not sew. He'd run across some of their earlier fights, thinking at one point the subject had come up. The details escaped him now, but there was something about a contest and an old man. She'd screamed her own lack of knowledge to his face. It was all he could pull from the years-old memory, which left few suspects for the current dilemma.
Of course, he couldn't imagine her father or brother reading Homes and Gardens magazine, or the racy romance novel it covered. Mamoru grinned again, quietly tucking that bit of information away for safe keeping. The fishiness of the situation had bothered him since yesterday, and knowing Usagi like he did could prove she wanted nothing more than to be viewed as an adult. The idea that maybe it hadn't been planned by her at all flashed through his mind, but he squashed it.
Within minutes, he found himself back in the same eerily bright room, watching over the sleeping girl while his thoughts whisked together.
He'd only come to return her jacket. There had never been another motive in his head than that. But there was something fishy going on. Usagi was old enough now, she could almost be in college. Where had the time gone? How had she found the time for karate when she never takes time for school? Had that changed as well? He hadn't seen her at the arcade in almost a year. Of course with schedule changes and homework, and the obvious Moon distraction, he honestly hadn't thought of it.
"Here, Saori-san! Try this on! This will show you, Chiba-san, yes. Very clever." The girl had dribbled the words together in a bright splash of interest and intrigue as the familiar brunette head glided forward. The real story came when the last button was pinned in place. Saori's voluptuous figure was decimated instantly, making her clothes appear much too large and childish.
He'd seen enough. A woman that graciously proportioned had no hope in the world of appearing normal in such a jacket. Poor Usagi had been the victim of overprotective parents and a world gone terribly wrong. Maybe she was immature, maybe she wasn't. The short spitfire was not one to take an insult laying down, and the solid, mournful turn of her eyes in the spring showed she had great depth hidden within her. It may be time to go back and read her term papers for the first time, maybe get a firsthand look into the inner workings of the increasingly complicated puzzle of her mind.
It would have to wait till after finals. His first two were tomorrow, and the nightmare that presented would be more than enough to distract for the next few days. If anything, maybe he could bring up the subject with Motoki during their study session. His mind's eye brought with it a kaleidoscope of memories with her, the fire of their fights, the solemn understanding of their talk, the flash of toned, trained movements as her enemies fell one by one.
He was still staring at her. Several minutes had passed in this one position, tracing the lines of her moonlit face in confusion. The blankets coated her form such that they would be no clue against his raging thoughts. He found himself really questioning whether or not he should be suspicious of more than that. They had always burned against each other, rubbed the wrong way, flared tempers. She had always appeared so… different. The sleeping woman shifted only slightly, setting the silver-painted hair blazing in the soft ribbon of moonlight leaking from the clouds. Her breathing was a steady heartbeat to the cozy room.
Hesitation eroded the movement from his limbs. He stared just a moment longer, noting that the dark circles were well gone, and the hollowness he'd seen hours before had dissipated. The only thing to see now was her.
Mamoru was smiling to himself as he slipped back out the yawning window and into the night. It was enough distraction to miss the soft patter of fallen metal on carpet.
.
.
…
For the first time in months, maybe even years, the night slipped silently by without a hint of fear or dread. The long-induced terrors that had once haunted the hours between waking lay silent. Steady warmth from the caramel-toned summer sunlight bid welcome to the sweetly trilling birds. The steady, warm thrum of a kitten's purr added a gentle rhythm to the rapid soprano of summer sounds skittering past the open window.
Hazy, dream-filled blue eyes blinked in response to the heady mixture, the soft scent of lilac breezing through the room. For the first time in years, the blond shifted upward without feeling the exhaustion slowly pulling her back down into the billowing softness. The familiar surroundings panned on all sides, just as she had left it the night before. It was difficult to believe that just yesterday she had run from her home in horror, in hopes of outrunning the now distant memories.
Her fingers sought the familiar warm fur of her guide, and were rewarded with the soft reverberation of her purr in response. As grateful as she was for the respite, the question begged an answer. Why hadn't she dreamed last night? Even a pleasant memory would have been nice, but it was all peacefully dark.
She rubbed at her eyes softly, slipping out from the covers and crawling awkwardly around the sleeping cat. The girl swished her hair back, thankful she'd taken the pigtails down last night before bed. Sometimes it just left her head achy in the morning. Today was going to be a really good kind of day. Even as the closet door slid open, visions of the arcade and the girls were bubbling up in her mind.
Bright birdsong erupted from the outside world, drawing the girl close to the sun-swept opening. The large sycamore swirled like oil through the air, glistening along every leaf. The bundle of clothing in her arms slid a little as she relaxed, breathing in deeply. Warm summer air and the promise of a new day made her feet dance across the carpet before connecting with something sharp and hard. The girl moaned, glancing down as she struggled to hold her injured foot to find the cause.
"What?!" She screeched, horrified. The bundle spewed across the floor as a pale, trembling hand fled to her mouth. The yowl of her guardian rumbled somewhere far away as the same shaking hand reached forward to touch the shining object. The engraving met with the cool flesh of her fingertips, warmed by the sun till it was uncomfortable to touch.
M. Chiba
The cover flipped upward, it's cracked face a broken reflection of lost time. Her throat was swollen shut, chest heaving for breath regardless. The room swerved to the right as she finally forced air in an out of burning lungs. She fought the urge to scream, though it was tearing little lines in her throat to do it. The terrified shudder raced up her spine at the thought of... No, she couldn't even bear to put it together.
The soft feline purring broke through her thoughts long enough to clutch the broken timepiece to her chest in abject horror. What would Luna say if she ever saw it?
"Oi, Usagi-chan…Usa.." the cat bawlked, watching as her furiously blushing charge raced past her and toward the hallway. The cat shook her furry head in disbelief before rolling her eyes heavenward. "Oh that ditz. She probably forgot to put in her retainer or something."
The bathroom door slammed shut hard enough to make it shake in the molding. The panicking blond flung her arms out wide, feeling he could break through the thin wood any moment and take his revenge. The image of his large, Adonis shoulders breaking through just above her ear had her quaking, gasping for breath.
"Please no!" she whispered, more to herself than the thought. He knew. Terrified sobs shuddered free of her aching chest and tears were splashing across her feet.
Just beyond the barrier of the door, a loud purr began to beat across the wood and into her shaking back.
.
.
…
Uncertainty and fear were captors of the day. Every corner wore the guise of an enemy and every sound became a battle cry. The frightened woman could not force herself to focus with the deluge raging around her head. The countless hours between dawn and twilight stretched on into the distance, taking with it the frazzled ends of her patience. Her fingers clamped over the broken piece in her pocket, though with fear or hope she would never be sure. The visions of their fight plagued her, riddled with doubt and insecurity.
The terrifying reality that he was more than a passerby in her life- even an inevitability, was beyond all understanding. Yes, in theory, they had talked and enjoyed mutual company, in a year, she had thought maybe… but then the rush of a tangible reality that he could crush broke through. It was too much. She was a child. He'd said so to her. He had categorized her as entirely unacceptable. He was the epitome of old Hollywood villain glamour, everything she had been taught to fear and avoid.
Then there were the memories. Endymion had been just as dark, just as foreboding. She remembered still the first time she'd seen him, cloaked in shadow beneath the looming darkness of a tree. Even asleep, he had been intimidating. The moment his eyes had locked on her, she'd felt the tremor of a caged animal, all fear and panic and lust. It was woven through her being with the salty tang of uncertainty. Yet his voice had been kind and reassuring, his movements slow and deliberate.
The two were remarkably similar in stance and bearing, but that part of his brain that ran what he said… had to be terribly damaged.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" the gentle voice broke through her thoughts, enough to make her jump and squeal. Naru's soft, oceanic eyes were concerned again, bringing yesterday's events to the hazy forefront of her mind. They had been talking… and she couldn't quite remember the rest of it.
"Um…working?" She spat lamely, all confusion and panic. Naru's face twisted sideways in utter disbelief and mild consternation.
"Y-yes, I see. But about the fight yesterday…" the girl tried again, this time a little more deliberate despite her obvious desire not to just come out and say it. Images of yesterday flooded through finally, though several of them made no sense and seemed to be coated in blood and gore. With a few moments, however, it became quite clear that Naru had seen something she did not expect. Usagi gulped.
"Oh, oh, yes that. Well. Rei-chan says that…" she began, but the redhead waved it away.
"Ah. That explains why you've been avoiding me anyway. I wonder about that girl. But you are feeling better, right? After we dropped you off?" a chunk of lunch was shoved in her mouth while Usagi tried to process the question.
"Oh. I…don't remember that part."
"Well of course you don't! After all, you did pass out and everything. We were worried about you."
Usagi didn't respond. She didn't know how to. The memories still seemed out of order and confusing. What she did remember was thugs and Naru being in trouble. Someone else had been there too…. It was too foggy. The images ran together with memories and strange feelings, and she was sure she'd broken some sort of code between her and the girls. Naru seemed to know exactly how Rei fit into the picture.
"Hey, did Chiba-san drop by after we left?"
The comment shattered frozen silence with an irrefutable twang. A cold chill broke across her body hard enough to hurt. Though it had long acclimated in temperature, the pocket watch seemed unbearably hot in her left skirt pocket. She forced her face straight, but could feel the burn climbing along her neck and jaw.
"Um… what?" she muttered, barely able to move her aching face. Naru nodded.
"Yesterday. He didn't then?" the earnest green eyes fell as the silence continued. She turned back to her lunch.
"Why would he come by?" Usagi stuttered, not in the least interested in her food. Her friend shrugged conspiratorially, holding her chopsticks up to the light.
"Because he carried you home?"
The blond felt as though all the wind had been unceremoniously beaten from her lungs. Mamoru…he must have dropped the watch when he was at her house. The heady weight lifted from her chest with such vicious precision she nearly lost her balance. Reality split a little at the seams as her friend continued to prattle on girlishly. There was something about staring, a monster, and Umino, but she couldn't seem to focus on that at the moment.
The memories came flooding back. Not just the events leading up to yesterday's blackout, but the dreams and the past. The sickening, gut wrenching sensation of it all settled across her stomach like lead. Mamoru must have watched the fight. He must have watched her blackout, and gone to help. She sucked at her teeth in thought, terrified of what that meant.
She wanted so much to believe he was the same heartless bastard he had been a year ago. But especially these last few months, the few times she'd seen him there had been something different. Just the way he talked about Moon had changed from lust to longing, and soon he would know the truth. Did he realize how close he'd come? Did she?
Her fingers clenched the metal disc in her pocket in a white-knuckle grip.
"Usa-chan, really are you ok? You are way more spacey than normal."
"Sorry?" Golden hair whipped upward, blue eyes scanning the face of her friend. There was worry, concern, and compassion etched in her warm green eyes. "Sorry Naru-chan, I know. A lots been happening, and Mamoru…"
"Seriously, girl, I know." She took a deep swig from her drink, nodding and kicking her feet.
"Y-you do?" the blond gulped in fear. Had Naru found out about her secret? No, the redhead would be pissed about it. The raging fear that had so consumed her only 5 minutes ago still teased at the corners of her mind. She shuddered, trying to erase the effects of her paranoia.
"Well yeah, that fight at the crown was epic! Everyone talked about it for months!"
Oh, that. It probably had been. She hadn't been part of the whispered gossip around school in a long time; hadn't even remembered it would happen. All she could focus on back then was the pain of rejection. Even that had been smothered by the following responsibility, the work, the frustration, the fear. When had she lost sight of the people in her life? When had she last really spoken with Naru?
"I'm an idiot."
"Trust me, he is. Besides, you would think the way he was staring at you, he'd be the one pining. Ps, going braless did prove to be as effective as the magazines say."
Oh gods, surely she hadn't run out without...but changing into Naru's uniform had included some muddled thoughts on the subject. She felt hot beneath the skin, angry at both of them and strangely emboldened. He couldn't be bothered to look at her unless she was compromised; then he just stared.
He was so close. The binding spell was a vice around her throat. Every lifetime to follow, he would be there, and it would never be the way things were again. He couldn't be bothered to take her seriously, he couldn't see what he was doing to her in the mean time. That man could not be bothered to think before he acted!
It was so Endymion. He should have left things as they were, at least in the knowledge that nothing had come between them. He should have known the spirit of Kronos would try to...
No. He probably had no idea how evil and cruel the time God had been. That beast had eaten his own children for centuries before his son had struck him down. All of this had been in her early youth, at the dawn of man. Endymion would have no recollection of that.
She shuddered, the true weight of her life boggling the 16 year old human mind. Next time science decided to say there was a big bang, she could quip it was the equivalent of a Tuesday, and happened after breakfast.
"Hello! Usagi!" the redhead finally shoved against her friend with one shoulder.
With the last vestiges of her fear still lingering in the back of her throat, the young heroine finally faced her best friend head on. The words wouldn't come though, there were too many things to say, and as much as she wanted it to include her night life, it just wasn't the right time for that. Instead, she settled for another kind of honesty.
"I feel trapped. It's like I can't get away from him, even if I distance myself, and even if I try to think of anyone else. It's like a leash around my throat and I hate it, because he already said no. He told me it wasn't possible. And I can't seem to let it go, and he… Naru, he would kill me if he knew…"
Without warning, her classmate wrapped both arms around her in a gentle hug. It reminded her sharply of Rei, all cinnamon and warmth. She ached for a time when this used to be normal between the two friends. It had been a long few years pushing her away. Usagi returned it, feeling little comfort despite herself.
"Don't worry about him. Just do what I do; get a new outfit, look killer, and find somebody else." Naru shrugged once they'd pulled away. The blond couldn't help but laugh at the comment. "Also, that uniform sucks. You should try getting one that fits."
.
.
….
By the end of the second day, the downward spiral had all but engulfed her pathetic, measly little life with every emotion known to man. Part of her wanted to rage at him, smack him upside the head for his idiotic decisions. The other part just wanted to be done with this. He would find out, he would realize who she was, and all of this would just be a painful, humiliating memory. She stalked out of the Crown for the second time that week, wishing he'd been there just so she could haul off and beat his face in.
She was seething. Yesterday, it had been fear, then reality, then betrayal, and now rage. How dare he? Of all the ridiculous, selfish things that stupid man could possibly do, he goes and sells his soul? Not just to anyone, mind you, but literally the God trapped in proverbial Hell for all time. What an idiot.
Love burned her chest like a bad scar. But there was no salve, no scalpel to remove the constant ache. If he was so certain of them, then why did he have to snap a collar on her? So maybe the universe did blow up, and maybe they did get a second chance, but there were so many strings attached you could practically see the puppeteer snarling from above.
The bento box squealed in agony beneath her hands as she stalked down the street toward home. The girls had taken one look at their pissed off leader, and wisely shut their mouths about the previously planned training session. It would have been better if they had continued in their plans. She really needed to hit something.
The others had all given their opinions multiple times: she was wasting her life on this good for nothing idiot. She had more important things to worry about than this. Even Makoto, who hadn't witnessed any of their encounters could agree that the guy was a jack-off based on behavior alone. What she hadn't bothered to tell them was that her heart had literally been enslaved without her consent. And it was eating her alive.
Only Minako had kept silent. It figures the Senshi of love would know there were underlying reasons; and that they needed to be kept. The guardians had never known about her betrayal in the distant past. They would never know that the downfall of the empire rested almost entirely on her small shoulders.
Her life was chaos. Exhausted, emotional, burning chaos. The cacophony of sound and image continued just beyond her reality, as if everything else was still normal.
The books were clutched closer, as if she could soak in comfort from their weight by osmosis. Under normal circumstances, Naru would be chittering away with her about boys and jewelry and makeup. She just didn't have it in her to be excited about these things anymore. Boys were out of the question, she'd worn some pretty expensive jewelry in her day, and frankly makeup just made her think of transforming.
Her feet slid across the pavement like a grindstone. She didn't actually want to go anywhere, especially home. To stand still, however, would only intensify every thought process till it drove her mad.
She would have to come to grips with her mistakes in the past. She would have to claim her responsibility in the war that ended it all. Too wrapped up in one man, she'd lost her friends, and family, and world. It was not a good enough excuse. This time, she swore, it would be better.
He'd made that easier now, since the one major obstacle had all but removed himself from the situation. As tired and lonely as she felt, at least it made her focus on one goal: destroy utterly the darkness. She would hunt them down, one by one, and snuff the life from them like a candle. If they had just left it well enough alone millennia ago, she could have…
What? Been with her prince? Lived happily ever after?
She grunted angrily, kicking at the dirt with her shoe. Her mother never would have allowed that. After all, the Titans were a dying breed even then. Most had been locked away for heinous crimes before she had even been born. Looking back, she wondered if the 'protection' from the other planets had been a secret pact to keep their power in check from the younger gods.
Politics. It all came down to which story and who told it. She glared at the passing sidewalk in disgust.
"Usagi, is it?"
The girl glanced up curiously. Sunlight burst off the shock of white hair, the photo-negative of dark skin, and the scream died in her throat. She struggled against the vice of his hand for a bare moment before being hurled toward the street. A car whizzed by her head, horn blaring and brakes screeching. She screamed again, feeling the hot molten light start to swirl beneath her skin.
Traffic stopped around her. She gulped a breath of air, shakily pushing herself up to her elbows. A few of the cars had been thrown down the street, effectively blocking the intersection on both sides. Thankfully there were no pedestrians on the small suburban landscape. With warmth bursting from every cell in her body, she screamed her transformation.
She was still crackling when red boots touched the ground. Last time a fight played out in an area like this, it was with babies. Something told her the Dark Kingdom General would be much more heartless than the simpering little Youma. But what was better, the business district? The shopping district? There were just too many people, too many liabilities.
"Seems you've made yourself a nuisance, Moon." He murmured, dead gaze freezing through her skin. Like Mamoru's eyes, hollow and empty, and cold. The sight was so familiar, so agonizingly similar. Who had he been again? She racked her brain for some memory that would give her the upper hand. It had been…
Oh yes, Endymion's General; the one that lost his soul. As in Endymion's trainer, confidant, and best friend, easily one of the most deadly forces on the planet in the old days. She gulped, suddenly much more afraid that before. All that anger and rage she had been feeling before were snuffed out by the tepid features. Mamoru's best friend was going to kill her.
Kunzite smirked darkly, knowing he had the Goddess trapped as his demon mistress had always wanted. It had been a lucky guess that lead him to believe the young girl was in secret his enemy. After all, even with the sudden fame the Senshi had gained, only one school girl wore her hair like that. He hefted his blackened sword from the ground, feeling the ages-old dust covering fall away.
Moon shifted her stance, tears refusing to leak from her bloodshot eyes for another moment. It all came down to this –a fight to the death with his best friend. Gods, it was ironic. The stupid General had no idea who he was fighting. Moon had gotten better at it, yes, but Serenity burning just beneath the surface was another threat altogether. She glanced at her arms, curious to see the glow burn brighter and brighter in the face of danger.
Kunzite picked a great day to die.
The silver crystal materialized within her gloved fist, white hot with the silvery light of her raging emotions. The diamond hard material built within itself, forming within her hand and lengthening. His dark, lifeless gray eyes traced the razor-like edge with little show of his growing anticipation. The hard stone was burning within her hand, sharpening into a semblance of a foreign blade, the Sword of Sealing.
The first heft left the shimmering, flame drunken sword leveled above her head, her feet wide and steady. The usual silver glint of her eyes flashed in maddening rage, even her fuku was sparking with power from the high-held weapon. The solid set of her mouth led even Kunzite to believe there would be no mercy, no holding back. He would have it no other way.
Their blades met, the powerful clash boomed in the afternoon air and burst in flashes of light as they hissed edgewise along each other. Moon feigned backward, her steps steady and sure as the blade was lunged toward his chest. It was quick thinking and a heavy sideswipe that kept his false-beating heart sealed within the reanimated chest. The two weapons clashed, spinning with dizzying accuracy.
The heavy weight of metal and strength ached against her arms, but she would not back down from his attack. Rather, she thrust her knee deep into his groin, and the sudden loss of that force nearly knocked her off balance. The man fell back, clutching himself in protective agony as the sword hung limp from his other hand. Even in pain, his dead, decaying eyes held all the uncaring emotion Mamoru's had. The goddess within flared at the sight, merciless as she advanced on his huddled form.
The solid hit of boot and flesh knocked the general back, splaying the warrior's hair along the dark ground. The furious blond could not let it go, could not be bothered to see the pitiful gasping of her enemy as he slid away from her. She didn't need to, it wasn't in her to kill the man for attacking her. But that didn't mean she was above taking out all of the frustration and heartache Mamoru had settled over her shoulders the past year.
Besides, Kunzite was not a good man. She had no qualms taking care of him for that reason alone.
The man struggled to his feet, spewing profanities from his bleeding mouth and threatening death. The harsh words fled passed her unheard, and the clack of legendary red boots beat their death chant into the pavement once more. The sword flashed and glowered, whipped through the air where his head had been moments before.
The General slid back, forcing the jellied legs to stand beneath him and tossing matted white hair back. His short nemesis flipped the crystal blade expertly in her hand as she came forward, her eyes promising slow, agonizing death. Hell yes! He would enjoy this encounter far more than anticipated.
The clash of their blades resonated once more, a sharp staccato of parries and thrust as the complicated dance played out. Where his brute strength and size should have mattered, her agility won out. Once more, the spinning roundhouse connected deep into his lower chest, and brought with it the sharp crack of broken bone. The quick successive crack of her other heel smashed into his jaw and sent him falling backward.
The shining sword bit with all the grace of a lightning strike, wedging directly between bone and flesh in his left arm. The edge sawed and shrieked against the slick black metal meant to defend from such an attack. For the first time in all the years he had waited, Kunzite could see the burning fury of a Goddess within the usually vapid depths of her eyes. For even a brief moment, he remembered the feeling of betrayal when news of the affair broke. Now, looking into those eyes for himself, he could see the brightly burning glow that had summoned even his old Master from the earth to serve her.
The thought was ill timed. The sharp pain burst from his arm as she ripped back and thrust again. Again, the metal ground together, and again the shining sword drank blood from his wounds. He heaved the sodden breath from his lungs, feeling the stab of bone as his chest filled with air again. She tore free once more and spun, summoning all the power she could muster, and forced her foot as far into his chest as it would go.
The attack hit dead on, and left her sprawled on the street as her enemy collapsed. The poison claymore dripped from lifeless fingers before he could clutch his side in agony. Even through the jacket, the sharp protrusion of two ribs broke through skin. Wet and slick, his clothing clung to the fiery skin. He coughed, eyes wide at the sensation of blood leaking from cold lips.
The Goddess slid upward, her sword blazing hot enough to sizzle the red liquid dipped along it's length. It's wicked murmur gurgled just above inaudible, and began the writhing sense of fear deep within his bones. He fought a helpless shudder, sweating with the effort of every breath. The clack of her boots brought his eyes around again. The crimson leather didn't even have the decency to carry the stain of his lifeblood. That bitch.
There was no use trying to stop the oncoming kick that sent him crashing into the earth, screaming as the shattered ribcage ground along uneven ground. The agony burned every nerve till his eyes were speckled white and black. He coughed again. The ooze fell from his mouth in a river of pain and humiliation. He'd lost to the most pathetic Senshi of all, and lost bad.
Her foot pressed fury through his body, forcing the gargled screech to break from his mouth. The weight of her body settled directly over the major break, and pushed. With grim determination, she waited for his howl to die down before releasing his chest.
"You have much to atone for, Kunzite." her soft voice promised agonizing death. He coughed –a semblance of a laugh in the face of his enemy- and spat the blackened lifeblood at her face.
"Bitch," he gasped heavily, quickly becoming a scream of agony as she leaned deeper into his chest. She sliced a chunk of his jacket free to wipe her face clean again. Still furious, she waited for the sound to die out before releasing the pressure. She could feel the silvery hum of her blood, the familiar power of her old self burning through the mortal flesh. Even the Gods had wrath, no matter how benevolent they may seem; and he had done everything in his power to earn it. Should he try another stunt like that again…
"It was you that led the attack on my family, my life. It was you that betrayed the trust of your prince and let that demon witch turn you. If I had any sense at all, I'd use the crystal to burn you to nothing." She murmured, feeling the heady drunkenness of power. The human within her struggled for control, while the goddess began to tear through.
He gasped helplessly, shocked at the effort it took to form words with his numb face. Her eyes were glowing, her skin sparkling. He could have won. Perhaps had he taken on a Senshi, instead of a Goddess. There was no mistaking the being before him was in many ways no longer human. The crystal blade hefted above his head, suspended evenly as the Titan reached high for the final blow.
The shimmering beneath her skin dimmed bit by glowing bit. Her sword lowered slowly, and faded away until barely a speck of a gem in her hand, then twinkled into nothingness. He hissed, suddenly realizing the hidden location of the Guinshuizu. "No, I think I'll just let Beryl find you. I hope she knows who your intended target was today."
He flew through every possible profanity he knew, in every language he could think of. The Queen had been adamant in knowing every inch of the plan, and was even now on her way to triumph over her simpering, crying enemy. Perhaps the small shred of information he'd gleaned from this meeting would be enough to spare his currently pathetic life.
"Now, leave. Me. Alone." She ground, pressing her foot into the wound once more to accentuate her words. He howled again, wishing there was enough strength in his leaden arms to reach for the fallen sword. Rather than try, and force the victor to do as she had insinuated, he spewed the last of his energy toward the shadows. With the dying vestibules of his eyesight, the ground gave way beneath him.
Moon stepped back, feeling the sudden chill of wind against her wet face. The burn of Serenity had faded, leaving behind a lost and broken Senshi, who could even now barely register the thought of her actions. They had been cruel, callous, and thoughtless. She had been so ready to kill another person, had justified it in her mind.
The confused, broken girl turned from the scene of her fight, only thought to break away from the actions she so easily could have done.
Was it justifiable? In a way, the Goddess had been right. Kunzite was truly a horrible man who had destroyed everything in his path out of jealousy. Part of her wished she would have shoved that sword strait through him. The other part of her just wanted to cry.
He'd looked so much like Mamoru, with those frost-bitten December eyes, the callous twist of his mouth. It would be exactly that look, that snarl, with which he would reach into her broken chest cavity and…
Her whole body shuddered, leaping from suddenly crowded streets to rooftop. He would never understand. He would always be there to never understand! The future seemed as dim and painful as the past year of her life, and it was suffocating. Her chest burned with the effort of her tears and running. Her eyes felt drugged and heavy, her legs useless and leaden. The faltering form fell against a broken ledge.
More than anything, more than love or responsibility, she craved the freedom. For both of them, for all their lives together or apart; she needed to be free of this stupid bond before it devoured her whole. Even now, she could feel the beginning of a thrum through her lower chest.
.
.
….
The last moment of stress flicked from his shoulders the second the doors flew open. While everyone else hung around to chat about their laborious afternoon, he bolted for the treeline. Half-way through that test, he'd felt her change. Not the icy cold fingers of a regular fight, but the burning white-hot announcement of Serenity. He had no doubt the Goddess could easily handle anything in her way, but the chord had thrummed with fear and rage, and finally something else. He just hoped he hadn't left her waiting too long.
He slid neatly between buildings, careful to glance around him before allowing the shadows to lick across his form. The tug led him downtown, and he went ghosting over the rooftops in anxious excitement. Her blue and red uniform looked dark in the oncoming night. She was tucked away beneath a ledge, a crystal sword in her fist.
"Moon?" He asked softly. The warm summer wind whipped around them as he came forward, but she did not turn her face to him. The blade hefted from the ground, her other hand clutching at her chest.
"Persephone." She whispered, her voice course and harsh in the night breeze. The molten sword was hefted high, blazing in the darkness before falling in a decisive arc. For a brief flash, the silken chord binding the essence of their souls flashed a brilliant gold before the pure, hot light of her blade ripped savagely through it.
Thunder boomed across the heavens as raw power tore through the air and into the unknowing atmosphere above. The sizzling, ruptured wound spewed molten brass in all directions before fading into the night. The electric shock shrieked throughout his body like a bolt from the king of heaven himself, the force collapsed his weak knees. The first short, labored breath crackled with the knowledge that death had not yet claimed him, though it had been close. The frigid spider web of ice licked at his soul, and beckoned him enter the dark river and be lost from this world. The weary pull at the core of his being soaked life from his lungs and threatened to pull the darkness close once more.
Blearily, he sought the form of his ancient lover through the pain, knowing she must be experiencing the same. She was leaning heavily on the ledge, her white-gloved hands stained with something dark and ominous as they clung to the granite in anguish. The sword was trapped beneath that hand, the edge of it blackened and steaming as it began to shrivel inward. Her free hand clutched desperately at her chest, mimicking his own and betraying her vital wound.
He gulped, the need to comfort her washing his own pain somewhere far away. Her shaking, stooped shoulders whispered through the darkness, forcing his clenched hands to shift toward her in vain hope of giving some comfort to the pain. Though the vision pressed hotly on the still gaping wound where their souls had once connected, and filtered strength back into his legs enough to shift forward. His goddess was sobbing in agony, her glorious head pressed tightly to the unfeeling rock, and every fiber of his being screamed to hold her till the world made sense again.
It was too late. The shining woman forced herself upright, their eyes connected for the briefest second before she gracefully swung her legs over the side. The movement painted night air in ghostly white, and the fall was littered with the violent thrum of feathers through wind.