SINS OF YOUTH
Chapter 2: "Unwelcome News"
A neo-Sailor Moon fanfic
By Bill K.
In the quarters that housed Haruka Tenoh, Michiru Kaioh, and Hotaru Tomoe, Michiru sat before a virtual display of sheet music. Her violin was tucked under her chin and she stroked the strings with her bow to the tune before her. The piece was "Adel's Sunset", a classical piece written in the Prussian Democratic States in 2581. Though the piece was orchestral in nature, it featured a very powerful violin solo that Michiru found quite complex and challenging. So whenever she practiced her violin anymore, she practiced with "Adel's Sunset".
"I still have to watch that last 'A' over 'C'," Michiru thought as she finished the piece and brought her bow and violin down. With a wave, the virtual sheet music faded. "It's a very tricky bridge. If you're not concentrating, you miss it." Her frown over her performance shifted to a smile of admiration. "I do wish I'd gotten the chance to meet Hiram Shuster when he was alive. I'd really like to have discussed this piece with him."
Michiru practiced her violin for one hour three times a week when she was on Earth. It was part of the discipline her father had instilled in her and, yes, part of the love of performing her mother had given her. With precise movements, Michiru locked the violin away in its protective case. Softly she asked the environmental control computer for the time.
"Hotaru should be back in an hour or so," Michiru mused when the computer responded. "I hope she's having fun. She was so depressed after her last mission to Brasilia." The woman gave herself a knowing smirk. "It's funny how Yutaka is able to lift her spirits the way he does. Oh, Michiru, I do believe your little girl is in love."
Wandering into the private room Haruka used to pursue her hobbies, Michiru found the woman at a computer station. Softly she approached and peered over Haruka's shoulder.
"Still trying to design the perfect racing vehicle?" Michiru asked.
"It's coming," Haruka grunted. She was using a light stylus to make changes in an air car design on her computer. The changes were reflected on a three-dimensional hologram projected onto the desk. This air car was different than commercial air cars. The design was sleeker and more phallic. "If I can work out the aerodynamics to maximize speed and minimize structural vibration, I can hit Mach-1 with commercial pounds per thrust propulsion."
"Oh, car talk!" huffed Michiru. She placed her two hands atop Haruka's head and leaned her chin on them. "Haruka, I love you, but when you rattle on about your cars and your engineering, you can be SO deathly dreary."
"If I can stay awake through a monologue about the relative merits of Handel versus Shuster," smirked Haruka, glancing up at her, "then you can stand a little car talk."
Michiru shifted her arms down so that they crossed Haruka's throat. They were loose enough to be playful, yet just tight enough to be menacing.
"Critique not my love for Shuster," Michiru warned softly.
"Firefly's not back yet?" Haruka asked.
"She's got another hour or so."
"That's what worries me."
"You promised," Michiru said, lightly swatting her partner's head.
"I also promised to stop sneaking chocolates, and I didn't follow through on that either," Haruka muttered. "Save," she said and the computer stored the current alterations to the model.
"I wondered where those chocolates were going," Michiru eyed her with a smirk.
Just then the door to the outer quarters opened. Haruka and Michiru got up and went into the outer room. There they found Hotaru in the kitchen, cradling a container of juice. The girl had a faraway look on her face.
"Hotaru?" Michiru inquired, coming over. Haruka was close behind. "Honey, are you all right? Did something happen?"
"Um," Hotaru began hesitantly. Both Haruka and Michiru could tell the girl was reluctant to answer.
"Did that boy do something?" Haruka demanded sternly.
"No, Papa," Hotaru frowned impatiently. Then she softened. "There was this restaurant, and - - well, something was happening inside. It sounded like a fight."
"Did you get involved?" Michiru asked, concerned.
"No," Hotaru answered with some guilt. "I - - I thought about transforming, but the person ran away. I decided to let the CDP handle it."
"Well, that is why they're here," Michiru moved in, stroking Hotaru's hair. "Sometimes we senshi have to decide when it's best to act." She offered Hotaru a smile. "I imagine the whole business didn't do your date much good."
"No."
"Do you want me to fix you something?"
"No," Hotaru shook her head and moved toward her room. "I need to call Usa."
And into her room the girl disappeared. Michiru silently turned to her mate and saw the same concerns mirrored in Haruka's face. More had happened than Hotaru was telling. The questions were what and why was she hiding what had happened.
Endymion sat at his desk in his office, his personal work station displaying spread sheets of Japan's economic indicators for the last three months matched against selected countries of the world. It was all part of his job as monarch of the island to keep Japan prosperous. It was part of his plan to keep as much of the rest of the world prosperous as he could, for economic prosperity was an environment that made following his wife's teachings and examples more likely to happen. In the last thousand years, Endymion had learned through bitter experience that others were less likely to be jealous of Japan's success if they were also successful. That was additional motivation for his work, as it was one more way he could protect his country, his family and his way of life. Glancing at the time in the lower right of the screen, Endymion realized he'd worked into the night again. Serenity would be angry with him.
A tickle formed in the back of his brain. A small smirk curled onto his lips, but he kept still and his gaze locked on his computer screen. Moments later, delicate hands closed around his eyes.
"Guess who?" a high-pitched voice giggled.
"Ami?" Endymion responded. The hands whipped away from his eyes.
"Why would you guess Ami?" howled Queen Serenity indignantly.
"To get the exact reaction that I'm getting from you right now," Endymion said with a smirk of superiority. He received a petulant pout from his wife. "Come here," he said and gently grasped one of Serenity's hair trails.
Reluctantly she followed as he pulled her to him. Cooly she kissed him. Their lips parted, but their expressions remained the same.
"Haven't you realized yet that you can't sneak up on me?" Endymion inquired.
"Smarty," Serenity scowled.
"So, don't you have anything better to do than act like a ten-year-old?" he asked her. "Not that I don't appreciate the visit."
"I like acting like a ten-year-old," protested the Queen. "It's fun!" Her eyebrow cocked. "You could stand to have a little more fun."
"I get to tease you mercilessly. How much more fun does a person need?"
"You're as bad as Rei," Serenity grumbled.
"Yeah, but I get all the good parts," Endymion smirked and grabbed the royal bottom. Serenity jumped with a squeal.
An incoming call from the Central Defense and Protection Department of the Japanese Government popped onto Endymion's computer screen, as it was programmed to do if the message was designated a vital communication. CDP Chief Nakamura found King Endymion in a headlock being administered by Queen Serenity. There was a pregnant silence as all parties stared at one another.
"Um," Chief Nakamura said with an air of mild disdain, "forgive me for intruding."
"It's quite all right," Endymion assured him as Serenity's arms disappeared behind her back and her cheeks colored to a soft rose hue. "What's happened?"
"There was an incident in the entertainment district this evening," Nakamura related with his usual precision and control. But Endymion noticed that he was just a little more formal than usual. "A restaurant was wrecked in a clear case of wanton vandalism and property destruction. And the perpetrator was identified as Sailor Ceres."
"Really," Endymion replied thoughtfully. Serenity let out a small gasp of surprise. "You're certain?"
"Interviewed witnesses all identify the perpetrator as Sailor Ceres," Nakamura reported. "Video surveillance confirms this. According to witnesses, Sailor Ceres entered the restaurant and demanded the restaurant be cleared so she could eat in peace - - her words according to multiple witnesses. When she was refused, she turned a monster plant loose and wrecked the place."
"Endymion, that can't be possible!" howled Serenity.
"Your Majesty, I'm calling both to let you know about this and to see if Sailor Ceres is in the palace," Nakamura persisted.
"Um," Endymion frowned. "Computer, location of either Cere-Cere or Sailor Ceres in the palace?"
"Cere-Cere is currently located in her quarters," the computer replied.
"Yes, Chief, she's here," Endymion told him. "Did you just want to question her or - - did you want to arrest her?"
"We have enough evidence to arrest," Nakamura said pointedly. "Is that a problem, Your Majesty? I realize she's a member of The Princess's inner circle . . ."
"That's not why I'm hesitating, Chief," Endymion snapped.
"May I remind Your Majesty of her record," Nakamura added.
"It's not possible!" Serenity cried. "Cere-Cere has reformed! She's not the person she used to be! There has to be another explanation!"
"Your Majesty," Nakamura pressed Endymion.
Endymion sighed heavily. "Send your men, Chief. But I intend to check a few things while they're en route. If I don't find anything to contradict your evidence - - you can proceed as you see fit."
"They're on their way, Your Majesty," Nakamura replied and cut the communication.
"Endymion!" Serenity gasped incredulously.
"Those who make and enforce the rules of society are the very last ones who can be above them," Endymion told her. "We're not giving up on her by allowing her to be arrested. We'll get to the bottom of this. If she's been set up, we'll find out. If not - - we'll try to help her."
Though it was only nine p.m., Palla-Palla was already asleep. Even though she was seventeen, Palla-Palla always "went beddie-bye good night time" by nine because she always had and one of the aspects of her retardation meant she was an incurable creature of habit. It also meant that the older she got, the earlier she woke up - - she was currently waking up at five a.m. and immediately playing her "Yumi-Chan's Toyshop" vids, to the irritation of Cere-Cere.
When Cere-Cere came in, she found Ves-Ves draped over a sofa, silently listening to music through a pair of sonic patches which attached to the skull behind the ears and transmitted sonic vibrations through the skull to the inner ear. No doubt the music program was the Samba mix she'd picked up in Brasilia on their last trip. Jun-Jun was at her computer station leafing through new hover bike designs and accessories. In the time since she'd acquired it, that bike had become very important to Jun.
Without a word to her sisters, Cere passed through the main quarters and into her own room. Ves didn't notice, as she was absorbed with her Samba music and as she rarely concerned herself with Cere's comings and goings. Jun noticed, though, and left her seat in front of the computer station. She approached the door and listened.
"Cere?" Jun inquired. There was no response. "Cere, you OK?"
Again there was no response. For a moment, Jun debated on whether or not to invade the private sanctity of her sister's room. Having a private refuge was important to all of them, but no more so than Cere and incursions, usually by Ves, had resulted in some very loud arguments. But something didn't feel right.
"Access, please," Jun said to the door. If Cere had her room in privacy mode, only the King and Queen or one of the elders could have entered using a security override. But the door hissed open. Jun peered in. This attracted Ves's attention and she wandered over after disengaging her music transmission.
"What's up?" Ves asked. They were looking at Cere asleep in her bed. The girl had changed to the clingy magenta satin and lace romper she usually slept in, the one they all thought was way too sexy for a seventeen year old girl - - even though Jun secretly admired the way Cere looked in it.
"She's asleep," Jun said. They pulled back and the door hissed closed. Ves shrugged. "That's kind of odd behavior. You know what a night owl she is. She's usually the last one to go to sleep."
"Maybe she had a wild night out and she's just tired," Ves offered. "At least I don't have to listen to her complain about how messy I am or how none of the guys at the club would give her the time of day."
"Maybe," Jun murmured. "She did seem a little - - well, muted. Usually you can't get her to shut up about her nights out. And it is her first night out since she broke up with Gallan."
"There you go," Ves nodded, engaging her music program. "She's probably still beating herself up over breaking the poor guy's heart. Give her some space. She'll be back to obnoxious in no time."
Jun sat back down in front of the computer station. It seemed logical. So why didn't her mind want to accept it?
She should be studying. The Princess could hear Diana's voice in her mind saying just that. Or she should be socializing with her friends or watching her mother and father as they performed their duties, duties that one day would be her duties. Or working on the drawing light pad that she'd recently taken up again. She should be doing anything other than sitting in the middle of her bed in the middle of her room, with her pink crystal in front of her trying to will her thoughts to contact Helios in Elysian.
But there she sat, trying to draw every last bit of energy from the crystal and make her wish come true. Warnings about trying to make the crystal do more than was its power were forgotten. The young Princess had only one overriding thought in her head. Besides, consequences were the province of adults, with their rules and their limitations. It was the incontestable right, she felt, of every teen to reach for as much as she could grasp and to recognize no boundary until she herself had tested it.
"Are you at that again?" fussed Diana. Usa tried not to look at her, but her voice sounded like it was near the door.
"Diana, I can't concentrate with you talking to me!" barked Usa, her eyes clamped shut.
"Well it's a skill you're going to have to learn," countered the cat. "You may need to summon your crystal in the midst of battle." Though her eyes remained closed, the teen's tongue darted quickly out and then back in again. "Your computer is signaling you have an incoming message."
"It can wait," Usa mumbled.
"Mind that you don't over-extend yourself."
When Usa didn't answer, Diana went back to her initial mission, that being finding a place to sleep that her mother couldn't find. Diana loved her mother, but Luna was such a taskmaster that she occasionally had to get away from the elder cat for a while. Slipping into the closet, Diana found a comfortable corner and curled up.
As for Usa, she remained on her bed valiantly trying to draw enough power from her crystal to contact Helios. The process was tiring her out and she faced the prospect of failure once again. It was a bitter pill for her, though, and she kept at it, for the alternative was spending another evening without him. Sure, he'd come to her in her dreams, as he had for every night since that moment they'd joined on the barren planetoid between Earth and Zachar. But it wasn't enough anymore. She had to have more.
She had to. And with that, the pink crystal pulsed.
"Maiden?" Usa heard in her mind. Her heartbeat spiked.
"Helios?" she thought back.
"Maiden, where are you? I sense your thoughts, but I do not see you."
"I'm on Earth! I'm using my crystal to thought-cast to you! Oh, Helios, I've missed you so much!"
"As have I, Maiden," Helios said, standing in his human form amid several horses in a grassy field on Elysian. "But tell me, you do not unduly tax yourself by doing this, do you?"
There was no response.
"Maiden?" he thought.
Nothing. The Protector of Dreams lowered his gaze.
"Perhaps the energy required was too great to maintain communication," he thought.
"My Lady?" Diana said, rousing from the closet after hearing a thud in the room, back on Earth. She peered out of the closet.
Usa had tumbled from her bed and was sprawled awkwardly against the side, her cheek resting on the floor. She was unconscious.
Continued in Chapter 3