Author's notes:

Hello dear readers! I know, it's been over 3 months since I lasted updated. I suck. Much like when I took an unintentional hiatus from this fic last year, there honestly was hardly a day where I wasn't thinking about this story—it's always on my mind. This past few months have been extremely busy for me—I'm in my very last trimester of university before graduating, I travelled overseas, dealt with my ongoing health issues, and started a business. So, needless to say, this had to go on the backburner for a while. I intend on getting a chapter up at least once a month from here on out until this is finished…and I honestly cannot wait to make the time to do that, because I adore writing this fic!

On to the chapter! You may notice that I've paraphrased Seiya from episode 187 to make what he says a little more relevant to the story I'm telling (changed 'galaxy' to 'universe', that's all). This chapter is very long, and heavy. I truly hope you all enjoy it!

As always, make sure to check out the important notes from the Prologue if you haven't already. Enjoy!

Music rec – Space Between by Sia Furler

Chapter Twenty-One

He called you Cosmos, does that mean anything to you?

She hung in a vast expanse of whiteness; in a space so bright that none other than herself could exist among its torturous brilliance. She stayed there, wings curled around her like feathered armour, eyes closed because it made no difference if they were open.

How long had she been there? How long had it been?

Her home was a lesson in loneliness, a place for reflection and peace. An in-between where she had the power to control everything, yet do nothing. In spite of her unfathomable power, she could do nothing.

How long ago was it that she had done something? How long had it been since she had changed their course?

She floated amongst the syrupy warmth that engulfed her; held her like she would shatter. As though she were fragile. The very thought made her laugh, a clattering sound that echoed out into nowhere.

He called you Cosmos, does that mean anything to you?

It meant everything to her.

She felt the hot sting of light carve open between her eyes, and suddenly—finally—she could see.

How long has it been? How long has it been since I was free?

The difference between the darkness of their night and the brightness of their day was so fine, so subtle, that few truly saw it.

When dusk set in, apricot skies turned ruddy, and the horizon grew bruised with indigo, casting a ruby glow out over the sea. When day broke, a vivid magenta kissed the swirling clouds above, forcing out the splotches of darkness that had lined the planet's edges. The rocky ground grew fractionally warmer underfoot; the shadow cast across a loved one's face shifted ever so slightly. The changes came and went in a heartbeat, hidden behind the spectacular storms that danced across Kinmoku's arid land.

Every day, Kakyuu watched out from the cliff's edge.

She watched the cycle transition fluidly over and over, harmonious even when faced with the harshest conditions. She breathed in their thick air, felt the immense weight of their immeasurably heavy world holding her down, and gazed up to the three stars that cast their rays across her skin. Every day, she would let her eyes burn as she watched bursts of flame lapping at their sky from the sun that lived closest by.

Fighter.

The quiet sunset faded in, and as silver forks of lighting hit the ocean's waves, Kakyuu hummed a song into the night air, hands cupped to the fabric that lined her chest. What she wouldn't give to have them home—but their journey was far from over.

"You have a destiny to fulfil, Seiya," she murmured. "An entire universe to save…"

Droplets of hot rain began to stain the dirt alongside her and dampen her robes, but she didn't care—she simply closed her eyes and tipped her head back. A new energy began to thrum in her chest, like a pressurised explosion that ignited the power within her, and suddenly she knew.

An entire universe to change.

"Princess, Princess! It's Proxima—the star, it's changing!"

The panicked voice of one of her soldiers rang at her side, but she hadn't needed the warning—she could feel the burning flames changing; see the cool light behind the insides of her eyes. Blue—blue everywhere.

"Princess, what does this mean?"

Kakyuu opened her eyes and smiled as she shielded them from Proxima's glimmering brilliance. Each roaring cobalt flame bled into their red sky as a ring of blue expanded from the star like a halo. A kaleidoscope of vivid colour pulsed in its wake, quietening their wild planet with its own gentle tune. Within mere moments—before she could truly take it in—the sun had returned to its fiery orange, as though nothing had ever changed.

"Everything," she told the young warrior, "it means everything."

I know, Odango, he thought, as his heart clenched, I feel it, too.

Seiya trailed along behind his cousins as they arrived at school that Monday morning, tired and wary as they passed through the gates and joined their friends. The grounds were filled with a sombre air, a reminder of the attack that had unfolded just nights prior.

"Three people," Makoto said quietly, as they stood in wait for the bell to ring. "People have been hurt before—we've lost people before—but this…"

Minako let out a long breath. "It feels like our fault."

"It's not," Yaten said sharply, moving just a breath closer to her. "Don't you dare think that."

Seiya understood—he knew what it was like to feel as though you had failed at the most important job you could possibly be given. He remembered the early days, when they saved everyone and always walked away victorious; the naïve confidence they held. He remembered the first time they couldn't save someone, and the words his pama had spoken to him when he had arrived home, crestfallen and defeated.

Some will fly, Fighter, and some will fall.

He clenched his jaw as he spotted the shrine that had been beautifully arranged along the side of the school's entrance, lined with wreaths, photos and sympathy notes. People stood by shoulder to shoulder to pay their respects, glassy-eyed and silent. The oval where the fire had seemingly grown out of control was still cordoned off, and the students and visitors huddled as far from the scene as they could—the space, and the memory, felt like poison. Three people.

You cannot save everyone.

"Usagi hasn't arrived yet," Ami said, checking her watch. "She assured me she was coming…"

Students began to file inside as the bell rang, and Seiya raned his head in search for Usagi, but she was nowhere to be seen. He let out a frustrated sigh. He knew he should have gone to her house—he should have convinced her to come; even with all that had happened, she couldn't give up her life—they would find a way to save her friend—she would recover—they would find a way to—

"Usagi!"

Seiya spun to see the blonde walking toward them, schoolbag clung tightly at her side. Her cerulean eyes were dark and stormy, but she gave them a small smile nonetheless. "I told you I'd come," she said.

"Well, you're always late—we didn't expect any less," Minako joked, in an attempt to brighten the mood. "Come on, we'd better get to class."

The others went ahead, but Seiya waited for Usagi. He eyed her as she approached, her distant gaze on the memorial behind them. There was a beat where the young woman's jaw jumped and her eyes shone with emotion that she simply could not hide. "We can't save everyone, Odango," he told her gently, the words like knives in his throat.

She nodded, her chin raised high. Behind all that raging turmoil, he could see her unbreakable strength and determination clawing through, and the ache in his gut settled in to stay."I know," she said. "I know that now."

They had lost lives before—she had lost everyone she loved, right before her eyes—and yet the reality of those deaths, so finite and confronting, went strangely beyond heartbreak. It was grief, of course—but not solely grief for those lost; grief for the dimming of the fierce hope she had always held so dear.

I wish I could shield you from this, he found himself thinking desperately as the feeling swamped him. I wish this wasn't the way it had to be.

It was just another stitch into the strong fabric that was her resilience—the one thing that underpinned her goodness and faith—but he knew it would change her, as it had him, and his cousins, and the other Sol senshi alike.

He ground his teeth; steeled himself as she had and channelled her never-ending resolve. "We will win this," he murmured, running his hand down to hers. He brushed her fingertips with his own, their shared energy shooting between them: a message. He wouldn't let her be alone in this. "I promise you."

The ice hot connection zoomed between them, and she sucked in a breath as though she'd been electrocuted. When she looked back up at him, there was a question twisting her features. "Seiya, yesterday I heard you calling to me when I was in danger, but I don't think that was really possible—how did you…?"

She trailed off, suddenly captured by something over his shoulder. The students were wandering in to the building, but a few straggled behind, and amongst the crowd, a familiar mop of brown hair caught his eye. No way…

"Raf," she whispered. "He's here—I didn't think he would come to school—I thought he would go into hiding, I thought Chaos would…"

Her sentence faded and she began to drift toward the boy, who was animatedly play fighting with his group of friends, utterly unchanged. His hazel eyes connected with Seiya's and he gave him a daring smirk, a brow cocked in their direction. The gesture left Seiya uneasy and he tugged on her wrist. "Odango…"

She looked back at him wide-eyed. "I haveto do this, Seiya."

"I'm not going to stop you—I support whatever you chose to do, you know that," he replied. "Just…be careful."

There was a rowdy round of laughter as the group showily shoved and mocked one another, and Rafu's friends abandoned him for the building as Usagi approached, Seiya close behind. Rafu snatched up his bag from the dirt and shook out his hair. "What can I do for you, Tsukino?" He eyed Seiya coolly. "Can't even come say hello without him around, huh?"

Usagi stopped cold a few feet away, as though someone had doused her in ice water. "This isn't you, Raf," she said.

He glared at her, shoulders back and chest out. "How would you know?"

"Because you're my friend," Usagi responded tightly. "The Rafu I know wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't what?" He closed the space within them with a few strides, and Seiya struggled to hold his ground, the urge to protect her nearly uncontrollable. "Wouldn't call it like it is?"

She frowned and shook her head. "He wouldn't act like this—cold and offhand—"

"If being honest is a crime, then you'd better lock me up," he countered. He looked between the two of them, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Oh, that's right—you can't."

Seiya felt his control slipping—rapidly. This wasn't Usagi's friend, not anymore. "Odango—"

Usagi ignored him, slowly inching closer to the hostile teen—it was clear that she still saw her friend, in spite of Chaos' hold, and Seiya knew that would be her downfall. "Raf," she said, compassion laced in her soft voice, "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I think you've gotten the wrong idea—Seiya and I, we're not—"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted roughly. "Besides, he keeps thing interesting." His eye flickered across to Seiya briefly. "He's not the only one willing to fight around here."

Seiya clenched his fists and took one step forward, but Usagi's arm stopped him. She looked at Rafu closely, her face twisted with conflict. "It doesn't have to be like this—I can help you," she tried. "I know you don't want it to be this way…"

Rafu huffed a bitter laugh. "I don't need your help—I know exactly what I want," he said, stepping away from her and toward the building. "Unlike some of us."

"Raf, listen to me—"

"I don't have to listen to you," he said. He looked back over his shoulder as he walked away. "Maybe it's about time you decided what you really wanted, Odango."

She moved to chase after him as he charged off, but Seiya grasped her wrist. "I'm sorry, Odango," he said softly as she watched Rafu's back. "But you heard him—he's let Chaos poison his mind." He hesitated before he added the one thing he could see, plain as day. "He's made his choice."

Her jaw was set as she shook her head disbelievingly. "No," she said. "I'm going to fix this—I've done it before." She looked at him—resolute. Fierce. "I'm going to free him."

Setsuna eyed the tarmac as she waited for Mamoru's flight to arrive, fingers wrung tightly against the fabric of her skirt. She tried to focus on the beautiful view of the high mountain ranges that sloped away behind skyscrapers in the distance, and the way an incoming summer storm painted the twilight sky a gloomy grey, but the tingle of nerves overtook her senses. She chewed at her lip—an age-old habit, she was sure—and wondered if her anxiety ran rampant because of everything she had told her future king against Usagi's wishes, or purely because she was about to see him once again. She was quite certain it was the latter. "What is the matter with me?"

"I was just asking myself the same thing."

The sound of his voice caught her off-guard and she jumped as she turned to him, hands fluttering to her chest. "Mamoru," she said, smiling as he approached. "Hi."

He returned the smile, slow and warm, and placed his bags down on the ground, before enveloping her in a hug. The gesture stole her breath away, and not for the first time, she revelled in the buzz that hummed between them—one that rushed through every nerve and down to her very core. It lasted just a moment too long—she knew that—but pulling away suddenly felt like the hardest thing she had ever had to do. "Setsuna," he greeted softly.

She held on to the hum for just a moment longer and broke away, stepping back to look at him. He was somewhat dishevelled from the flight, and the dark circles under his eyes told a story all of their own. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I'm sorry you had to come home like this…"

"Don't be," he said, shaking his head. His midnight eyes scrutinised her intently. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she lied. She had not been fine since the moment her Garnet Orb had been shattered, and something was changing within her, she could feel it—bit-by-bit, day-by-day. "There's no need to worry about me."

Just like in their midnight-hour, nightmare-driven conversations, he was once again asking questions he didn't need to. This time, however, he didn't tell her she was wrong, but his gaze tracked away; his lips grew pursed. Not for the first time, she could almost hear him replying: but I need to worry about you.

"Come," she said, taking one of his bags for him before either of them could say any more. "Let's go."

"Damn bus…"

Usagi grumbled under her breath as she trekked through the dusk-lit woodlands surrounding the Outer guardians' home, hopping over ropey roots and crunching the scrub underfoot. She blew the tendrils of hair from her face that had fallen from her buns and pushed forward, certain she had seen these trees before, walked this weaving path at least one time in her past. "Damn inability to read the timetable…"

Joining her fellow senshi and the Starlights hadn't been on the cards for her that afternoon, with her friends insisting that her presence wasn't needed; that she was best to go home and rest, but she had gone against their wishes. Truth be told, after a day that had weighed so heavily on her heart as she absorbed the mourning of those around her, and the clouded, wayward eyes of her friend as he was consumed by darkness that was Chaos, she was tired. Tired of holding out hope, tired of seeking peace.

It scared her.

She had felt it once before—in the bleak moments among a lonely, bruised world that Sailor Galaxia, warped by Chaos, had claimed. She had almost given up; she had wanted nothing more than to be with her friends, her family, and let it all go to ruin. During that time, hopelessness and defeat had nearly conquered her, but she had pulled herself from the rubble and fought for what was right—what was good—because every fibre of her being had told her that was what she had to do.

Suddenly those strands of who she was felt as though they had been unravelled, frayed. Suddenly right and good didn't feel so just any longer.

Suddenly she wanted to fight.

We can't save everyone, Odango.

She kept going, jaw tight and gaze forward. She had battled time and time again, suffered through feats that should have broken her. She could take it, and this time would be the last. She would do what she had to do.

As she navigated the forest and the outline of the Outer scouts' home came into view, she heard familiar voices echoing toward her and feet scuffling on the dirt. She stilled, leaning against the bark of a nearby tree, and listened.

"Come on, Seiya, we're not going to be able to figure out these creepy new powers of yours if you can't even use them!" Yaten nagged. "Stop screwing around and focus!"

There was a crackle and hiss as the distinct sound of terrain being torn up hit Usagi's ears. "Maybe if you would shut up and let me focus I would be able to do it, Yaten!"

Yaten snorted. "I doubt it—clearly you have no idea what you're doing—"

"Oh, you are such a little—"

"Would the two of you stop?" Taiki's voice cut in, just as a tiny smile broke over Usagi's lips. "You're making it incredibly difficult for Ami to run scans—we need this data to analyse the extent of your abilities, Seiya."

"Yaten, why don't you give Seiya some space—she already has enough people breathing down her back as it is," Minako tried gently. "Come and sit with me."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"Yaten…"

Haruka let out a frustrated huff. "This is taking too long, we don't have time to waste," she said. "We need to come up with a plan and execute it—"

"That may be true, Haruka, but Seiya's powers could very well help us, and first we need to understand them," Michiru soothed. "Ami, Taiki—take your time."

Usagi heard Seiya grumble. "What about Seiya take your time?"

"For fuck's sake, Kou—"

"Haruka, language—there are young ones around!"

The Uranian senshi ignored her girlfriend's warning. "Maybe you need some inspiration…"

Usagi peered around the trunk to the manicured grass clearing that met the tree line. Seiya came into view, her expression surly as Haruka marched toward her, the final touches of her fuku gracing her slender form as she moved. "World, shaking!"

A rolling ball of light shredded a perfect trail along the ground toward Seiya, but she merely deflected the attack in a sharp line of laser blue. She cocked a brow at her opponent. "Nice try, Tenou."

"It's not enough," Ami said, as she punched away at the keys of her computer. "That defence is only equivalent to your original power—we need more than that to draw any useful conclusions."

Haruka stared Seiya down, an amused look on her face. "Not enough, huh?" She held up one gloved hand, the glittering jewels and golden shine of her sword manifesting in her palm, and called: "Space sword, blaster!"

The weapon unleashed multiple arcing slices, and for a split second, Usagi could have sworn that she saw Seiya eying the ornate sword distractedly. Usagi wasn't sure exactly how she found the beat of time before Haruka's powerful attack would meet Seiya, or even when she decided the move would be a good idea, but she launched herself into its path—without fear or hesitation.

"Odango!"

The sound of impact was muffled and she felt the cool seep of Seiya's power consume her as the Starlight's translucent arms encircled her, spinning her away from the brunt of the attack. Seiya's beautiful wings shot out from her back, their lattice-like structure and pointed edges spread out wide, and for a moment, everything flashed as the sparks of Haruka's attack hit the barrier that shielded them both. The intense light of Seiya's cobalt crystal shone blindingly through her chest, lingering just long enough for Usagi to get yet another glimpse of the star that radiated within her, before absorbing back into Seiya's body as quickly as it had released.

All life in this universe has a shining star within it.

Seiya dropped back to the ground, gasping for breath and glaring at Usagi angrily. The flicker of blue shot along her skin like an electric current as she lingered between humanoid and her alien aoi form. "What the hell were you thinking? Are you insane?"

Usagi stared back at her from where had fallen to the grass, the potent mix of Seiya's energy and her own adrenaline still rushing through her system. Perhaps she was insane…

"Usagi!" Haruka exclaimed, skidding down to her side. She grasped her wrists, her chin, checking her for injury. "That was foolish—you could have been hurt!"

The others had stood to attention, watching on warily. "Is she okay?

"I'm fine." She swatted Haruka away, her cheeks hot. "It got the outcome you wanted, didn't it?"

Beside her, Seiya growled. "You're kidding me…"

"Stupid, kitten," Haruka said, shaking her head and pushing up off her haunches. "But effective."

Seiya knitted her fingers through her hair and sighed, before getting to her feet as well. She offered a hand to Usagi, which she took. She was promptly yanked to her feet. "Do not do that again, got it?" Seiya warned by her ear.

Usagi narrowed her eyes at her, ignoring the goose bumps that rose on her skin at the tone of her voice and the heat of her breath. "Or else what, Seiya?"

Rei, who had approached them amongst the commotion, placed her hands on her hips. "She's always full of brilliantly dumb ideas," she said. "What are you doing here, Usagi? We said you should go home and rest."

"I didn't need to rest," she said stubbornly, dusting the dirt from her backside. "Ami, Taiki—did you get what you needed?"

Taiki tilted her head, frowning at the tiny screen in Ami's hands. "Strange," she murmured. "It's almost as though she can harness—"

"—kinetic energy," Ami finished, looking up from the computer to Seiya. She shook her head in disbelief. "This is incredible…"

"Sorry, my physics is a little rusty," Seiya replied. "Kinetic energy…?"

"It appears that you can channel the potential energy in something and manipulate it," Taiki explained. "And the form your body takes on when you transform seems to be a mass accumulation of energy that can be unleashed at will." She met her cousin's eye. "I think that this goes beyond powers—this could be true evolution. That energy may very well power your entire life force, Seiya."

Seiya's brow furrowed as she considered Taiki's words, and Usagi chewed at her lip thoughtfully. Seiya was just like her—made up of rushing blood and a beating heart and an intricate mind and soul—all threeof the Starlights were. Humanoid, just like they were. Weren't they?

Wasn't she?

"Congratulations, Seiya, you out-weirded us on this one," Yaten remarked with a smirk. "Though you always were the odd-ball…"

Haruka sniggered at the comment. "Got that right…"

"I think it's cool," Rini announced from her spot on the grass, legs tucked beneath her as she sat thigh-to-thigh with Helios.

Seiya grinned at her. "Thanks, kid."

"An accumulation of energy," Makoto mused. "So does that mean Seiya can absorbpower and hold onto it until she wants to use it?"

Ami pressed the stud of her earring to retract her visor. "It would appear so, yes," she said. "It seems your body acts as a reserve, Seiya—which may be why the magnitude of your attacks is growing as you collect energy."

The breathtaking image of Seiya's body sparking with blue light from top to toe leapt to the forefront of Usagi's mind. It made perfect sense—the buzz of her energy, the hum that ventured across to her when they touched; it felt like a shock of caged power. She couldn't help but wonder from where the stolen energy had originated.

"Right," Seiya said, nodding slowly. Her sapphire eyes seemed distracted as she was lost in her own thoughts. She looked over to Ami and Taiki. "So just how much power are we talking…?"

"It's hard to predict," Taiki replied, folding her arms over her chest. "If your body can successfully tolerate and control kinetic energy, the possibilities could be endless."

"You will know, in time," Hotaru said from nearby, her dark eyes scanning Seiya closely. "If you trust your intuition, you will know."

Helios hummed in agreement. "Every moment I spent in Elysion was a battle between sensing the dreams of the people of Earth, and simultaneously blocking them out." He looked up at Seiya through white locks of hair and gave him a smile. "You have to learn to control it, or it will control you."

"Helios is right, Seiya," Taiki agreed. "Practicing precision is going to be key to controlling it—if you can control the smallest of things, especially those with immense power, you will master your own strength and accuracy."

"That's easier said than done, Taiki," Seiya said. "At the moment it's sort of a case of all or nothing." Her gaze trailed to Usagi. "And people I care for can't constantly be getting in harm's way in order for me to use my powers."

Rini leapt to her feet, marching over decisively with her hand outstretched. "Here—use this," she said, offering her beautiful, glinting brooch. "I know you can do it if you try."

Seiya shook her head. "Rini, I can't—I might destroy it—"

"You won't," Rini insisted. She grinned. "Show me what you've got, Seiya."

Seiya narrowed her eyes at the girl, taking the locket from her palm. "Alright," Seiya said. She closed her eyes and the group fell silent, watching her as she focused intently on the object in her hand. "Focus…"

Usagi felt something flutter at the base of her sternum, the strange tension rising to her throat like a cry, and just when she thought that perhaps Seiya's efforts had failed, the warrior let go of the brooch gently, and to her astonishment, it hung in mid air, surrounded by a pulsing glow of blue that crackled across the locket's surface. Seiya opened her eyes—suddenly a vivid cobalt that burned brilliantly—and smirked. "How's that for precision?"

Rini gushed, stepping forward to admire it. "That's amazing…"

She reached out a finger to touch it, but Taiki stopped her mid-way. "That's not wise, Rini," she said warily. "It may be dangerous—"

"Leave her, Taiki," Yaten sighed. "How's she going to learn if she doesn't get hurt now and then?"

Usagi began to speak, but Rini was faster—she seemed mesmerised by the sight, and as she cupped her hands around it once again, the blue light dissipated instantly—no zap, no explosion, no consequences. "Did you steal its energy?" She asked Seiya curiously.

"I don't think so," Seiya replied, staring at the girl strangely. She frowned. "I just tried to charge it…"

"Good," Haruka said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "At least we know that you can call on it when we need it, and it's not just a mess of power like we thought it was."

"Oi…"

Usagi nodded, standing up a little taller. "And we're going to need it," she said. "Seiya and I spoke to Rafu today, and there was still a glimpse of my friend within him, somewhere—I know there was." She looked around at the group unwaveringly. "I'm going to free him."

Haruka sighed. "Kitten, you have to understand—there may not be a way to save your friend's life—"

"There is," she said. "I'm the one he wants, and by giving myself over willingly I have the best chance of getting through to him." Her friends were silent, and she took the opportunity to do what she had to—be their leader. "I'll tell him to meet me, and whoever is with me is with me—otherwise, I'll do it alone."

"It's too dangerous, Usako," a familiar voice came from behind her, and she felt herself freeze. "You're too important to lose."

Mamoru?

She spun to the source of the sound, eyes wide. There he was, walking through the back door and back into her world, with Setsuna a few short steps behind. "Mamoru," she breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"I told him what has been going on in Tokyo, Usagi," Setsuna answered, her voice small and remorseful. "I'm sorry, but I felt it was for the best."

She hardly heard her friend speak; hardly process what she had said. Instead, she stared back at the man that was so familiar to her, and yet a complete stranger—more so than ever before.

"Mamo?" Rini moved toward him, a hesitance that had never existed before suddenly present in her actions. "You're here…"

"Rini," Mamoru said, giving her a warm smile and wrapping her in a tight hug. He broke away and looked her over at arm's length. "Usagi told me you had grown, but I hadn't expected quite this much." He nodded to the Starlights respectfully, his eye hesitating on Seiya. "Maker, Healer, Fighter—thank you for being here in our time of need."

Amongst the shock of his sudden arrival, Usagi had somehow noted Seiya's presence lingering just a beat behind her, far closer than before. "Mamoru," Seiya replied tightly.

"Welcome home, Prince," Helios said formally, having risen from his spot on the ground to give him a short bow. "I'm sorry that your trip was cut short."

"Hello again, Helios," he greeted in return, watching the boy curiously. "It's alright—I was needed here, and this is my duty."

Usagi felt emotions rise in her like acid as she stared at her boyfriend. He was the same kind, warm soul that would always fight for what was right—fight for them —and yet she felt a space between them like never before. "You weren't needed here—we had things under control," she said, finding her voice. "I didn't want you to step away from your dream—"

"I know, Usako," he said, moving closer to her. She could feel the part of her that she didn't quite understand awakening in the pit of her belly, ready to fight. "But this is not under control, and it's my job to protect you."

Protect me?

Seiya was right at her side—nearly buffering the gap that hung between them; the space that should have been filled with missed affection and joy. "It is your job to protect her," she said, heat in her voice.

Mamoru, she could hear Seiya saying, in the sunset moments before she left for her home planet, protect her.

Clearly, those were the words that echoed in Mamoru's mind, too, as he replied: "That is why I'm here now," he said calmly. He met Usagi's eye, his gaze soft. "I'm sorry, Usako, but I won't allow you to do this."

Won't allow me?

"You've been here five minutes—you can't forbid her from doing what she thinks is right—prince or not," Seiya bristled, the tension coming off her in waves. "She is strong—she can do this."

"I know how strong she can be," Mamoru said, gaze narrowed at the Starlight. "But right now she isn't strong enough."

Not strong enough?

Suddenly Seiya made a move forward, but was immediately stopped by Haruka, who had appeared out of nowhere. "Come on, Kou," Haruka said lowly, grabbing Seiya's arm and pulling her away.

"We should go, Usako—we need to talk," Mamoru said. "Here is not the place."

She is strong—she can do this.

Usagi nodded, swallowing down the feelings that swamped her in preparation for her next battle. "Let's go."

Seiya stormed out across the make shift soccer pitch that Haruka had dragged her to, further around on the property and well away from the rest of the group. She clenched her fists tight at her side and growled. "Asshole…"

"That may be the first thing we've ever agreed on," Haruka commented from behind her. There was a lone soccer ball resting between the goals that sat amongst a large patch of worn grass, presumably where Haruka practiced, and Seiya thumped it into the netting aggressively. She fully expected Haruka to leave her to seethe, but she spoke up once more. "I've never been particularly fond of our prince—but as our future king, we do what is right by him."

"He's not my future king," Seiya rumbled.

How dare he speak to Odango like that? How dare he tell her what she could and could not do? How dare he make assumptions about her strength, when he knew so little of the growth she had experienced in the time he had left her alone?

She felt furious.

Had Haruka not intercepted, she may have used him as target practice for all that pent up energy that was firing in her veins.

"That's true," Haruka said. "I vowed to protect Usagi because she is the important one to save—our imminent future needs her, no matter what this o-called prophecy has foretold." She paused, and then added: "He's just added collateral."

Seiya rolled the ball under her foot and kicked it up onto her knee, bouncing it from one to another and then taking another hard kick. She huffed, hands on her hips as evening storm clouds rolled in. The prophecy. She considered Haruka's words, thinking about the concept that Usagi was necessary for their planet's survival, no matter what had been predicted. But was the prophecy the foretelling of their future, or was it a warning?

Prophecy or not, future queen or not, Usagi deserved better than that.

Haruka moved across the grass and swept the ball up, spinning it along the ground back to Seiya. She stopped it underfoot, one heel firmly planted on it as she looked over at the Uranian senshi, a question nagging at her. "Does he always treat her like that?"

"Mostly, yes," Haruka replied. "But then we all do, sometimes—kitten's immaturity often overrides her ability to make the best choices."

Seiya scowled at her and booted the soccer ball in her direction, far harder than necessary. "Then you're all assholes…"

The sound of an engine starting up and tires rolling on gravel caught her attention, and she spotted Mamoru's car turn out of the driveway. She let out a tight breath. Usagi was surely with him, and this was a battle she would have to fight on her own.

Her chest ached at the thought.

Seeing Mamoru there—reminding her that Usagi belonged to someone else—felt heavy; almost as gut-wrenching as the day she had found out Rini's true identity. Her time with Odango all to herself had once again drawn to a close, and she wanted nothing more than to whisk her away—show her how she should have been treated, in every conceivable way.

I wish I had met you sooner, Odango.

She had to distract her mind, or the feeling would crush her.

Haruka dribbled the ball between her legs and across the ground, lining up a hooked shot and executing it perfectly—though Seiya would never admit that to the guardian. She tutted and rolled her eyes. "That the best you've got, Tenou?"

"Fuck off."

She chuckled at the response and took possession of the ball as it was sent in her direction. A thought crossed her mind. "That sword is a talisman, isn't it?"

Haruka stilled and stared at her, expression unreadable. "You wouldn't know a talisman if it stabbed you in the gut."

Seiya nodded knowingly. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't."

The truth was, she did care. In her many years as a senshi, she had never seen a true talisman before, but she had heard many tales. The moment she saw that sword—really looked at it—she knew what it was. Suddenly she found herself looking at the cold soldier's actions in a whole different light.

It didn't really change the way she felt about her, though.

"It's my strongest weapon—not just in battle, but also because of the power it holds in its own right," Haruka added. "And yet it seems it still isn't a match for whatever development you've undergone recently."

Seiya let out a low whistle. "You should never admit defeat, Tenou…"

Haruka ignored the comment. "Which brings me to my next question—how much power do you think you can absorb?" She met her eye. "How much do you think you can really take?"

Seiya narrowed her eyes at her, sensing something far more significant than a casual chitchat over soccer practice. "A lot."

"You know what you have to do then," she said cryptically, folding her arms over her chest. "And this might be one rare occasion where I'll consider helping you out."

You know what you have to do then, to save her.

Haruka was wrong—their dislike for Mamoru wasn't the first thing they had been able to agree on; they both wanted to save Usagi's life, no matter the cost.

She nodded. "You're on," she replied.

The crunch of grass sounded nearby, and Rini appeared, hands curled in front of her and eyes downcast. "What's the matter, Small Lady?" Haruka asked.

Rini shook her head, teeth tugging at her lip. "It's nothing…"

Seiya kicked the ball up and caught it on her hip, frowning at the girl. She let out a sigh and tossed Haruka the ball. "Come on, kid," she said, "how about some ice cream?"

The silence between them felt thick, tangible. Suffocating.

It was the only thing that filled the distance between them as they entered Mamoru's apartment; the only thing that she could focus on. That, and the hard hammer of her heart as she muddled over all the things she wanted to say—all the things that simply wouldn't come out of her mouth.

Mamoru dropped the keys onto the sideboard and turned to her. "Usako," he said, in a tone that previously would have softened her, "I know you're upset, but Setsuna was just doing what she thought was best—"

"I'm not upset at Setsuna," she replied quickly. She stood stiffly in the doorway, back to the wall. "I know why she did what she did."

He sighed. "Then you understand why I had to come home to Tokyo—I couldn't leave you alone while this new enemy took over—"

"This new enemy isn't new to us, Mamo," she said. "It's the same one we've always fought—the same one we've always beaten."

"That may be true, but this time things are different," he replied. "You don't have your powers—you're completely vulnerable to Chaos' attack." He leant against the wall heavily, tiredly. "We have no window into the future—the end could come at any time and we need you safe."

The end, Usagi thought. He calls it that because that's how it feels: our end, not our beginning. "We can't live our lives waiting on something that may never happen—"

"May never happen?" He looked her over like she had lost her mind. "Usagi, we've seenthis future, we know it's going to happen—"

"And what if it doesn't? What if everything we've been shown was a lie?" She shook her head, thoughts swirling in her mind. "We're making all these choices for that one future—"

"We don't have a choice—if we don't, there won't be a future for any of us," he cut in. "And even if it were a lie, why would you risk it? Why would we risk the safety of everyone on Earth?"

"Life isn't without risks, Mamoru," she said, exasperated. "Leaving me to pursue your dream was a risk—"

"And don't you see where that has gotten us—"

"We will always have an enemy!" She cried. "There will always be something to fight for—we can't constantly wait for that moment to come, just sitting on our hands!"

He stared at her. "You have always hoped for peace," he said. "Where has this come from?"

"It's the truth," she said, and took a deep breath, though it did little to calm her. "I see that now."

He shook his head. "That's all the more reason why I had to come back—you need me here, to protect you—"

"I don't need protecting—"

"You do, Usagi—and we need each other, for this future, for Rini—"

"I don't need you!" She burst, tears blurring her vision and her throat tight. She couldn't contain it—she just couldn't. "I don't need you, and neither does Rini!"

Mamoru reeled back as though he had been slapped. He was quiet as he watched her breathe heavily, her fists curled and cheeks hot. "Setsuna told me there may have been a prophecy, but she didn't tell me what it said." His voice was fragile and unsteady, and she knew the question was coming. "What did it say, Usagi?"

There was a feeling akin to regret pumping through her—but perhaps it wasn't; perhaps it was simply the bitterest form of relief. "It said that I would walk with fatherless children that were mine alone," she stuttered. Those words wouldn't leave her—in fact, they played over and over again in her mind, like a song stuck on repeat. "We don't know what it means, or if it's true…"

"But you think it is," he observed quietly. "You think it's true."

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears hot on her cheeks. She felt exhausted, so suddenly. "I don't know," she whispered. When she reopened her eyes, Mamoru's gaze was to the floor, his shoulders slumped. I'm sorry. "I remember the day you asked me why we had to be lovers now just because we were in a previous life…"

"You know I didn't mean that—it was an act, I was trying to protect you—"

"I know that," she stammered, determined to finish. "But you were right for wondering." She swallowed down the knot in her throat and the sick feeling in her stomach. "I think we were so caught up in the fairy tale of our romance that we never stopped to check that it's what we really wanted, in this life, now."

It was strange—the words felt so heavy in their truth, so familiar to her, that it was though she could have plucked them from the deafening space between them. She could barely form her next words, but when she did, they fell out of her effortlessly. "Did you ever think that maybe there was a reason that we were a tragedy?"

Mamoru said nothing, still in his thoughts. "I wanted us to work," he murmured finally. "I always did."

"So did I," she managed. "But I don't think we can do this any more. I can't do this any more." Suddenly she could hear every time he'd told her she couldn't; see every time he'd pushed her away, all woven so neatly amongst the times they'd saved one another's lives, and the times they had mourned each other. The times they had kissed, and the times they had fought. "I'm sorry."

She couldn't remember walking away—she couldn't remember walking out the door, out into the rain. Out into ice-cold freedom, and the sudden, deathly fear that perhaps one young girl had suddenly faded away because of her selfish choice.

She couldn't remember walking away, but she remembered running to her.

Rini…

"Okay kid, what do you want?" Seiya asked as they wandered through the doors at Crown Fruit Parlour and out of the pouring rain. "A milkshake? How about chocolate—Odango's favourite."

Rini hummed, hopping up onto a stool at the counter. "No, I'd rather strawberry." She gave her a faux smile. "Pink and sweet, like me."

Seiya snorted. "Yeah, right..."

It seemed Rini didn't have the energy to fight back, and instead sighed and rested her chin on her hands that were folded on the counter. Seiya ordered their drinks and slid in alongside her. "You okay?"

Her gaze was distant and she chewed at her lip as she had done before, and Seiya could nearly see the cogs turning in her anxious mind. "I just…I hadn't expected to see Mamo back so soon," she said after a moment."And especially not under those circumstances."

Seiya wasn't exactly sure what circumstances Rini was referring to, but she took an educated guess. "I know that must have been hard for you."

"Usagi and Mamo always fight, but it's normally over silly things," she said. "This just felt different, you know?"

She did know—the sense of uneasiness hadn't stopped churning over in her gut since the moment she'd been pulled from Usagi's side. It still lingered, even then.

"Seeing him back home…I just thought it would feel right, but it just felt weird." She shook her head and slumped in her chair. "After everything Usagi said during the attack the other night at the school, I thought…" She trailed off, and then sighed. "I thought that once he came home I would stop feeling like I shouldn't really exist."

"Rini," Seiya said gently, turning on her stool to face her properly, "there is no reason why you shouldn't exist." She brushed a thick bundle of pink hair over the girl's shoulder comfortingly. "You've got to stop thinking these things…"

Rini sat upright as their drinks were delivered, giving the server a half-smile before returning her attention to Seiya. "I don't know, Seiya," she said, and then shook her head. "I just can't stop wondering what it means…"

Seiya was quiet a moment as she considered Rini's worry. The young senshi had endured so much in her short time on Earth, and so much of her life was shrouded in uncertainty. Seeing her struggle, seeing her ruby eyes so sad, felt nearly unbearable to Seiya—something that surprised her, each and every time it arose. "You know," she started, "I've done a lot of thinking about what it means, too…and I think it only strengthens the fact that you're meant to be here, alive on this planet."

Rini went from swirling the straw amongst the whipped cream on her milkshake to meeting Seiya's eye. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. "I think it means that in her future, Odango is so special that she is able to have you as her daughter without needing a father—she can carry on the Moon bloodline without having to rely on anyone else." She gave her a small smile. "I think she's stuck with you, no matter what."

Rini blinked at her, as though she hadn't really considered the thought. "Without needing a father," she repeated, brow furrowing in thought. "You really think so?"

"I do," Seiya said honestly.

The pink-haired girl resumed stirring her milkshake, clinking the glass with the long spoon, lost in her thoughts. She looked up at Seiya, eyeing her closely. "Do you hope that's the truth, Seiya?"

Seiya felt her cheeks flush and she shuffled in her seat. "Well, um, I..." She bit her lip and shrugged, blush only deepening. "I guess..."

Rini cocked a brow at her. "Where's that cool and confident rock star gone now, hm?"

She glared at her. "Shut up, kid..."

Rini took a long sip of her drink, seeming more relaxed than she had all afternoon. "You don't have to be embarrassed, you know," she said finally. "I know what it's like to be in love."

Seiya tilted her head with a smirk. "Do you, now?"

"Yep." She held the milkshake in one hand and scooped at the cream with the other. "It feels like you could take on anything."

"Oh, come on," Seiya tutted, rolling her eyes. "That is so cliché…"

"Well it's true," Rini insisted. She shrugged. "At least that's how it felt to me."

"That's a good sign, then," Seiya relented. She grinned, intent on teasing her. "So what else do you know about being in love, then?"

She stopped toying with the straw and placed her drink back on the counter, her expression turning to one of deep thought. "It sort of…creeps up on you, without you even realising it," she said after a moment, and then smiled. "Although when you do, you realise you knew it all along."

I've fallen in love with you without realising it.

"You would do anything to keep that person safe—even if it meant giving up everything…"

I will protect this girl's shine, even if it means my life.

"You feel everything they do, as if your heart was…one."

I feel you, Odango.

A smile passed over Rini's lips, her cheeks red. "And I know you can't help who you fall for," she finished.

"That's true," Seiya agreed softly, the reality like a dead weight. Even if her theory about Rini's destiny were true, Usagi was still someone else's—she had still chosen to live her life, rule her future kingdom and raise a child with someone who wasn't her. She smirked as Rini slurped the last of her drink, appetite returned and a spark back in her warm eyes. "Better?"

She nodded with a bright smile. "Thanks, Seiya."

She ran along the sidewalk, splashing through puddles and ignoring the heavy rain that soaked her through to the bone. She dove in front of moving cars, ignoring the screech of tires and the blaring of horns. She ran until she could see the porch light of her home, dim amongst the stormy darkness, and sprinted toward it, lungs burning and mind racing.

"Rini!"

The silhouette of an umbrella and two figures came into view, and as she drew closer, she saw the outline of two long pigtails. She could hardly breathe, and in spite of what she could see, the doubt and dread in her mind only intensified.

It's not her; it can't be her—she has faded away.

She's gone.

What have I done?

"Rini!"

"Usagi?"

Never—never—had she been so happy to hear that voice.

The girl stepped forward, out into the rain, and exclaimed as Usagi collided into her at full force, sopping wet and her body shaking. "What the hell…?"

"Oh, Rini," she cried, pulling back to cup her cheeks, smooth her hair. Her voice shook as she jittered from the cold and the adrenaline. "I was so worried about you!"

Rini looked at her strangely. "I was just with Seiya," she said, clearly confused. "Are you okay…?"

"Rini, you should go inside," Seiya's voice came as she approached them worriedly. "I can look after her."

"Okay…" Rini took another concerned look at Usagi and made her way through the gate and inside.

Usagi let out a rugged sigh of relief and felt her legs nearly give out under her. Suddenly everything around her was hot and dry and right—citrus-scented skin under her nose, warm hands on her back and threaded in her hair. A heartbeat and a breath that was in sync with her own.

She didn't realise she was sobbing against her until that very moment—and Seiya knew why. Of course she did.

She breathed against her; ached as she did. Felt the relief that she did.

"Odango," she said. "I'm sorry."