Kagome shoveled a huge bite of strawberry fro-yo and chocolate chips into her moth. I idly agitated my mango yogurt with a spoon, looking at my fellow switcheroo-character from the corner of my eye. Occasionally Kagome snuck a peek at me as she picked at her treat, but mostly she concentrated on her dessert.

As soon as we'd sat down, a silence—thick and heavy and as the fro-yo—fell over our table.

Not a lot of yogurt shops were open at 9 PM, but Kagome knew of one nearby that didn't think twice about someone her age stopping by so late. Girl came here a lot, it seemed. Once we'd come down from the high of our discovery, we walked over, ordered our fro-yo, and sat together at one of their patio tables. The silence descended not long after, broken only by the occasional car as it cruised down the quiet street.

…what the shit were we supposed to do now?

I'd been longing for someone to talk to for 14 years. Sure, I'd told Genkai just yesterday that I wasn't actually Keiko, but that hardly counted. Genkai didn't know what I was going through. Genkai wasn't in my position. Try though she might, she couldn't empathize. Not really.

Kagome, though? Theoretically, we had everything and more in common. We had theories and insecurities and plans to discuss, conversations about our fates and destinies to hold. She was the one person who might understand my worries—the one person who might be able to stand with me amidst all this incomprehensible bullshit.

…so why did my tongue tie every time I looked at her?

Was I intimidated by the thought of finally connecting with someone? Was I just too nervous to function? Was I afraid of what I might learn from her? Or was I so accustomed to keeping secrets that I'd forgotten how to tell the truth?

Looks like 14 years of silence and secrets had rendered me incapable of speech. What were the odds?

Kagome looked at me over the rim of her ice cream cup, eyes glimmering between strands of black bangs.

"I don't know where to start," she said.

My hand froze mid-stir.

"There's so much to talk about," she said. Her comically serious eyes didn't suit her childish face. "There's so much. Right?"

"Right," I said.

"I mean, I haven't told anybody. In this entire lifetime, I haven't told a soul anything about who I am. I haven't told anybody in my entire life. That's big. That's a long time to keep a secret." She spoke like even she was impressed with herself. "So what do I say now? Where do I start?"

"No idea. I mean, I'm in the same boat. Not knowing where to start and all that." Relief had me babbling. "I'm floored. Just floored. This is huge. Where do we even begin?"

Kagome slumped, head lolling over the back of her metal patio chair.

"OK, good," she groaned. "At least we're both gonna be awkward about this. That makes me feel better."

"Me too. I mean, 14 years of feeling completely alone in the world, and now…someone to talk to?" I rolled my eyes. "I've always wanted to meet someone who could understand, but now that I have, I'm completely speechless. That's not even fair."

"Agreed." She shoved another mouthful of fro-yo in her face. "Guess we should just...dive in?"

"Seems that way."

"OK, I'll start." A finger tapped her chin, amber eyes lifting skyward. "Um. So…how'd you kick the bucket?" A contrite, semi-horrified grin. "I mean, I'm assuming you kicked the bucket. Because that's what happened to me before..." She waved. "You know. This."

"Car wreck." Best not to sugarcoat it. "You?"

Matter-of-fact. "Drowned."

"Ouch." Curiosity got the best of me. "Was it painful?"

"Oh yeah. It was the worst!" Kagome looked strangely proud of herself. "Totally thought I was gonna die. And then I did! But it's OK." A curious glance in my direction. "How old are you?"

"Me, or Keiko?"

"Keiko."

"14."

Her fro-yo cup fell to the table with a pop. The girl smacked my arm, grinning ear to ear.

"Wow! Your plot's about to start! Yusuke get hit by a car yet, or no?" She frowned. "Wait. Is a car wreck how he dies? Can't remember. It's been a while."

"Yeah, car, and no, not yet. And how old are you?"

"10." Lips pursed. "I will be in a few weeks, anyway."

Interesting. This Kagome was super young. I'd never been a huge Inuyasha fan (I'd only watched the series because it came on back to back with Yu Yu Hakusho on AdultSwim), but even my brief flirtation with the series told me this Kagome was way younger than she had been in the anime. If my memory of the anime served…

"Doesn't Kagome fall down the Bone-Eater's Well for the first time when she turns 15?" I asked. "Seems you've got a ways to go before your own plot starts."

She sighed, long and dramatic. "Yup. That's right. I've got five years to kill before anything even remotely exciting happens." Another terrified grin. "Provided I remember the plot of Inuyasha correctly. Hopefully I do. I certainly don't remember anything fun happening to Kagome pre-well."

"I don't, either."

We lapsed into silence. Kagome ate her yogurt like it might be her last meal. I put my hand over my mouth and leaned my elbow on the table. Kagome was 10, five years from her plot, and here I was on the precipice of mine. Weird that we were at such different stages in our storylines. Why was that?

I wasn't sure. But no matter the 'why' of it, the fact remained that Kagome wasn't even close to meeting the demon Inuyasha. Part of me lamented I wouldn't get to meet more in-the-flesh characters (not for another five years, at least), but a much more prudent portion of me rejoiced. I had enough trouble managing my own canon. Getting stuck in a giant crossover would be a royal headache.

It helped that Inuyasha wasn't even on my top 10 favorite anime series list. I was in no great rush to further complicate my life with the addition of yet another bad-tempered demon, especially one I wasn't terribly excited to meet in the first place. I had enough to deal with, without Inuyasha crashing the party.

"So tell me," Kagome said. Her eyes glittered with mischief. "You taking fighting lessons to keep up with Yusuke?"

"Pretty much, yeah." A teasing smile. "Do you want to learn to fight so the Feudal Era won't be so scary?"

Her grin was sunshine and rainbows. "Yup!"

"Are you taking archery, too?"

"Duh! Figured I'd get a head start on that while I still could." She pantomimed drawing a bowstring. "Kagome is nothing without her arrows!"

"Are you doing anything else to prepare?"

Kagome's cheeks puffed out.

"Archery was all I could think of," she grumbled. "I don't remember if she had other skills."

"Well, I remember Kagome had to rough it a lot. Might be a good idea to learn to build a fire, cook, make a shelter, and other survivalist techniques like that."

"Oh shit. Good idea!" She dragged her hands down her face, pulling the skin below her eyes so she looked like that morose basset hound from Looney Toons. "Inuyasha was such a long anime! How's anybody supposed to remember all that crap?"

"I don't think I ever finished the series, to be honest," I confessed. Kagome shot me a look like one of her favored arrows. "Guess I lucked out with Yu Yu Hakusho. Short enough for me to remember all the major events. And I re-watched the whole series about two months before I died, so that was a stroke of luck…you OK?"

While I'd been speaking, Kagome had sunk down and forward until her chin rested on the table. She moaned and pressed her forehead to the tabletop. Her voice resonated against the metal surface. Girl sounded like a timid robot, but it was her words that set my blood to frosting.

"I never finished watching Inuyasha either," she said.

My jaw dropped. "What?!"

"I know, I know, it's terrible!" She threaded her hands into her hair and pulled, rocking from side to side in comical distress—but I couldn't laugh. "Oh, man! This sucks! I saw the show on Adult Swim a bunch of times but it's not like I was a super-fan or anything." The girl flopped backward, arm cast across her eyes. "Ugh! Why me? Why couldn't I have been sent into your fandom!? I owned the Blue Ray version of YYH!"

I stared at her in disbelief. Being unable to remember your own series—one you never even finished—must be terrifying. Downright, unequivocally terrifying. I'd be a nervous wreck if I didn't know Yu Yu Hakusho as well as I did. Grappling with the unknown was not my strong suit. Though I tried to look sympathetic, it was hard to not telegraph how horrified I felt.

"Do you want to talk about the series, see what we can remember together?" I suggested. "It might help to try writing it all down, too."

One doubtful eye peeped from under her arm. "You think so?"

"I do. That's what I did when I first got here."

"Really?" She cast the arm down. Her hair looked like a vulture's nest. "You did?"

"Well, the journals under my mattress certainly aren't full of cookie recipes."

The day my childhood hand gained enough coordination to hold a pen, I'd stolen a three-ring spiral from my father's workdesk and filled it with every last fact I could remember about Yu Yu Hakusho—and then I'd stolen another and filled it with memories of my old life. In English, of course, to protect my secrets from my parents' prying eyes. When my handwriting got better I transferred the notes to hard-bound journals. Whenever I thought of something new, or recovered another memory, I wrote it down. My notes were a record of my old life—the only record that existed, and one I meticulously maintained.

Those journals were my single most important possessions in this life.

"I started the journals because I suspected that, over time, my memories might degrade," I said. "I worried memories of my old life might be...replaced, sort of, by memories of this new life. I figured writing everything down while the memories were still fresh would keep them untainted."

Kagome looked ill. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, luckily I was proved mostly wrong. My memories have suffered normal degradation—no full replacement like I feared." Hopefully this would cheer her up. "And as a bonus, while writing it all down I actually triggered more memories and brought more details to the surface. So that was cool." I swirled my melted yogurt in circles. "Honestly, this whole thing is a puzzle of neurology."

Like a puppy, her head tilted to one side. "Neurology?"

"Yeah." I licked the spoon clean and held it aloft like a conductor's baton. "Neurology pretty clearly dictates that memories are stored chemically in the brain, yet you and I were born into new bodies with our old memories intact. Per conventional neurology, that should be impossible. Our physical brains have had no exposure to the events and resulting chemicals that forged our original memories. The fact that we remember our old lives defies everything we know about conventional neurology."

Kagome looked ill again, but this was the first time I'd ever expressed these theories aloud and I had no intention of stifling myself. If I was going to tumble down the existential rabbit hole, then dammit, I was going to take Kagome with me. She needed to get used to stumbling down dark passages. The Bone-Eater's Well was far scarier than this topic.

"All of this begs the question of how," I continued. "How and where were memories stored when our consciousnesses transferred into new physical forms? Is this situation of ours evidence of the existence of an incorporeal soul? Are memories stored not in the brain, but in some other form we don't yet understand? Or is conventional neurology applicable to most people, just not us due to extenuating circumstances?"

"Um. Good…questions?" She looked thoroughly uncomfortable. "I have no friggin' clue."

"Me neither. We live in a world with psychics, demons, and apparently time travelling wells now that you're in the equation. Conventional scientific theories are up for scrutiny, and I have neither the skills nor resources to conduct a thorough investigation." A resigned shrug. "It sucks. I hate not knowing how stuff works."

Kagome leaned backward, lips turned down, eyebrows raised in wary skepticism—like she was looking at a space alien. I fidgeted. What, was there fro-yo on my face?

"…you're a pretty big thinker, aren't you," she said.

Despite the phrasing, her words weren't a question. "Beg pardon?"

"Nothing you just said—none of that had occurred to me to think about." More of that space-alien look, but then it clarified into lightly impressed astonishment. "I've been in this situation for 10 years and…wow. Just. Wow." She shook her head and chuckled. "You are smart."

"Oh, I don't know about smart. More like well-trained." When she quirked a brow I said, "I went to college for philosophy, among other things, so…overthinking existential bullshit is sort of my jam."

A bark of a laugh, odd from the mouth of a 10 year old. "Not mine! I'm just trying to get by." Her irritable scowl didn't fit her young face, either. "Being a kid again is sort of fun, since there's less responsibility, but I do not like having a curfew." She stabbed her yogurt like it had personally wronged her. "Curfew is the sort of thing I worry about, not brain chemistry. I bet you think I'm pretty immature, huh?"

"No, no, you just…" I searched for words that would erase her exaggerated pout. "You have a very light presence. That's not a bad thing."

She slumped. "Uh uh. Sure."

"No, really. I appreciate it. I need someone like you around."

The pout turned suspicious. "How's that?"

"Well...my dad called me 'Eeyore' as a kid." I always thought I was more like Piglet, what with the anxiety and all, but nevertheless…I winked at Kagome. "Let's just say I could use a bouncy Tigger in my life. Keep things light, you know?"

She giggled. "Eeyore and Tigger, huh? I can see it. Seems we'll be a good match."

Quickly as it had come, her smile faded. She sat up and leaned toward me.

"Can I ask what year it was when you died?" she asked.

"2016. You?"

"Same. Huh. What're the odds?" Her expression morphed into one of grave importance. "Please. For the love of Christ, tell me you miss smartphones and email as much as I do."

The words exploded from my lips: "Oh my god, I would give my left kidney for the internet."

"And texting!" Kagome's eyes rolled back like she'd tasted something delectable. "MP3 players! FitBit! Facebook!"

I stifled a giggle—but then the thought of Facebook pinged around in my brain, triggering memories and associations until it settled on the most obvious thing I missed about 2016. Part of me didn't want to bring it up, but…

I set my cup of melted yogurt aside.

"Not to bring the mood down…"

Kagome scowled. "Good going, Eeyore."

"…but my friends. I miss my friends."

Kagome winced. "Yeah. I'd give up Facebook forever if I could just tell my bestie goodbye."

"Same."

My bestie. I tried very hard not think about how Olivia must have taken my demise. She'd lost her mother and both grandmothers less than a year prior to my death. We'd darkly joked 2016 couldn't get any worse, since literally all her mother figures had died within months of each other, but then…

Surprise.

2016 got in one last hit. Olivia lost her best friend—the person she'd leaned on in the wake of so much tragedy.

Not being there for her had nearly killed me again, when I realized what happened after I was reborn. Half the crying I did as an infant was for Olivia, not myself.

"I wish I could tell my family I'm OK," I said, pushing thoughts of Olivia from my head—not that thoughts of my family were much less devastating. "I wasn't close with many of my family members, but still. We lost my grandmother and great aunt in 2016. Losing me on top of that…I can't imagine how shaken they must be."

Kagome closed her eyes. When she opened them, sadness and loss swam in their amber depths. I knew exactly what those emotions looked like. I'd seen them in the mirror many times.

"I can't imagine how my husband must be faring." Pain ran her voice ragged. "I miss him so much. We were thick as thieves. Partners in crime and best friends till the end." Sadness faded into a fond smile. "Honestly, he'll probably die without me there to pester him into cleaning the house. He'll inhale toxic mold and our dogs'll eat him before the neighbors realize he's dead. That dummy." Her bangs shifted when she frowned. "Speaking of my husband. You know what else I miss?"

I shook my head. Kagome tilted close. She made a show of looking for eavesdroppers before cupping her hands around her mouth.

"I miss sex!" Kagome whisper-screamed. "I know that's disturbing coming from the mouth of a ten year old, but dammit do I miss sex! And it's not like I can get any at this age since that's illegal and gross and just plain wrong...so consider me fucked! But only metaphorically, and that's the problem!"

I laughed until I damn near went hoarse. Kagome flipped her hair and grinned.

"Oh man. I miss sex, too," I said, wiping tears on the back of my wrist. I'd left behind a certain special person of my own, but I didn't like to think about that. "So, you were married?"

"Yup. Five years."

"How old were you, before?"

"30."

If I'd been drinking something, I would've choked.

"How old were you?" she asked when she saw my face.

"26."

"Really?" Big eyes went bigger still. "I thought for sure you'd've been older than me!"

"Eeyore does have the temperament of a little old man." At least she and I agreed about our apparent ages—I'd expected her to be younger than me, for sure. "Anyway. Where were you from? What were you like?"

Kagome settled back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I was from Colorado. I was a teacher." Her smile could melt butter. "I love kids. I'm a big kid at heart, so it fits. And I had to put that teaching degree to use somehow."

I personally didn't like kids one little bit, but I had enough teachers in my family to understand how dedicated a person had to be to become one. My respect for this Not-Quite-Kagome rose.

"And anyway, yeah, I was married, but no kids of my own yet unless you count my three dogs." She tapped her chin with a finger, thinking. "Parents died when I was twenty five, so not much family. One twin sister, though we weren't on speaking terms when I died. Husband's name was Jerry. Dogs were Julep, Raggedy Ann, and Buzz Lightyear. And…yeah. That's the basics." A hand flapped in my direction. "You? Where you from?"

"Texas."

"Oooo, John Wayne!" She pantomimed swinging a lasso. "Were you a cowboy?"

Her joking expression turned to one of surprise when I said: "I did grow up on a cattle ranch, actually, so…kind of. Yeah."

"Oh, wow. Could you ride a horse?"

"Yes. Did junior rodeo as a kid. And before you ask, yes, I wore a big hat and cowboy boots and said 'y'all' a lot."

"Really? I thought that was just a stereotype!"

"It is. Most Texans aren't landowners like my family. And I only wore that stuff when I was on the ranch. Wouldn't dream of it in the big city." Couldn't keep from giggling. "People from out of state joke about ten gallon hats and spurs, expecting me to deny it, but I actually owned both. It's funny how fascinated people get with Texas." I smirked. "Ironic, really. When I went to college out of state to escape Texas, Texas was all anyone would ask me about."

Her head tilted. "Why'd you want to escape Texas?"

I hesitated. Fingers fiddled with my spoon, twisting the plastic to the breaking point before easing up the pressure.

"Let's just say that despite my roots, I didn't really fit in in the South," I said at last. "Just wasn't where I was meant to be."

"Why not?" Kagome asked.

"Politics, mostly. It was tough, living in a red state." Thoughts of my conservative family made me laugh. I loved them, but man, the fights we'd had were the stuff of legend. "My uncles called me the 'Blue Sheep' of the family. My politics swing decidedly to the left. Add to that I was a vegetarian and more than a little queer…" A fuck-it-all shrug. "I don't know which was worse: coming out LGBT, or saying I'd never eat BBQ again. Or maybe it was the atheism. Who knows?"

Kagome swatted my arm. "You should've moved to Colorado, stayed with me! You would've fit right in!"

Relief felt like soda bubbles in my blood. I hadn't talked about these parts of my past for so long, I'd wondered if Kagome would be OK with my truths—if anyone would, in this time and place. Seems I'd lucked out, befriending a person so accepting.

"You OK?" Kagome asked. She put her hand on my arm—not swatting, just touching. "You've got major Eeyore-face."

"Sorry, just…grateful to have met you, is all." I put my hand over hers and squeezed. Her fingers were so tiny. "It's just nice to finally get to be myself. All of myself."

Her soft smile, edged with pity and understanding, gave me comfort.

"I get you," she said. "I've been in this situation for less time than you, but even I know how lonely it gets."

We sat in silence for a while, hands intertwined, silent companionship as easy as it was soothing. Eventually she withdrew her hand and tipped the remains of her yogurt into her mouth. Pink stained her lips like melted sakura petals—oh. That reminded me.

"Hey. So here's a weird and probably really important question," I said.

She licked the yogurt away. "Shoot, Eeyore."

"OK, that cannot be my nickname."

"You'd rather I call you 'Keiko'?" came her rhetorical retort. "Cuz I know that ain't your real name, and I know I'm sick and tired of getting called 'Kagome'."

She had a point—it sucked being called by a name that didn't feel like mine, even after 14 years of being stuck with it…but I still preferred 'Keiko' over a Winnie the Pooh reference, and by quite a margin.

"OK, yeah, 'Keiko' sucks," I said, "but I don't remember my real name, so..."

"I don't remember mine, either." Not-Kagome wore a roguish grin when she teased me. "Looks like we're Eeyore and Tigger, after all!"

I groaned. Kagome swatted my arm again. She did that a lot. It would be endearing until she had a growth spurt and gained some muscle mass.

"Oh, stop, you love the nickname," she said. "Now what were you gonna ask me?"

"I was going to as if you've met Hiruko yet."

Given what I knew of her personality, I expected Kagome to react to mention of the super-annoying Hiruko with verve and (possibly aggressive) gusto. Instead her lip jutted as she wracked her brain, hand cupping her chin.

"Hiruko?" she repeated.

"Yeah." Surely she knew who he was. Maybe she was just having trouble with names. "Little kid in straw sandals and a red robe?"

"Sorry. Not ringing any bells."

Despite the sincerity in her big brown eyes, I doubted her—or rather, I doubted Hiruko. Hiruko seemed like a total busybody. How could not have contacted Kagome? Kagome was far more important in Inuyasha than Keiko was in YYH. Between the two of us, she seemed infinitely more important.

"Fishhook earring?" I pressed. "Pink hair? And you'd have dreamed about him, not met him in person. Does that help?"

Kagome tittered. "I think I'd remember a kid like that, even if I met him in a dream."

Huh. Interesting. Definitely hadn't expected this.

"OK," I said. "Well, if you do have a dream involving a kid with pink hair and a fishhook earring, let me know. I think he's responsible for putting us in these bodies."

Kagome didn't react at first. She just blinked, staring with expression I can only describe as "nonplussed"—and then her eyes bugged out of her skull.

"Seriously?" Her voice rose an octave as she lurched from her chair, hands clapping the metal table with a clang. "Seriously!? Dude. Dude! Why haven't I heard from this jackass?! I've got a major bone to pick with him! Why I oughtta—"

Now there was the spitfire I'd been expecting. Not-Kagome ranted about wanting to meet the asshole who had upended her life for nearly two minutes before slamming back into her seat, arms locked across her chest. One of her legs bumped up and down, vibrating like an idling engine as she muttered and grumbled about the unfairness of it all, not to mention the decapitation she'd give this guy if she ever laid eyes on him.

I really, really liked this girl. Of all the people who could have been reborn as Kagome, I was glad it was her.

"Don't worry," I said once she quieted. One of her eyebrows popped. "I've given him an earful more than once. He knows he's on the shit list."

"Good," Kagome huffed. "He'd better."

"Regardless, if you do wind up meeting him, be sure to pile it on thick. Little shit deserves it."

"Oh, trust me. I won't hold back." Doe eyes narrowed. "Why do you think this guy is responsible for us, anyway?"

My lips twisted, caught halfway between a grimace and a smile. "Because he said he was."

"And you trust him?"

"That's…not an easy question to answer."

I told Kagome everything I knew. She listened with rapt attention, and when I finished, she sat back in her seat and scowled.

"A fate to defy, huh," she said. "This guy sounds annoyingly self-important."

"Can't argue with that."

"Ha. Asking if you trust him wasn't a fair question. It's clear he's involved, and that means we need to stay on his good side so we can mine him for information." Wheels spun behind her eyes. "I don't believe for a minute he has our best interests at heart. His obsession with us breaking rules rustles my jimmies."

"Agree," I said. "Too bad we can't risk alienating him. We might need him. We still have no idea what he wants, but I'll be damned if I let him use us without a fight."

"Oooh." Kagome's eyes sparkled. "He's playing us, so we're gonna play him right back. Smart." Her scowl returned. "But if he's trying to play people, why hasn't he tried to talk to me yet? Seems two pawns would be better than one."

"I have a theory on that, actually."

Kagome perked up. "Of course you do, you big thinker. Now spill!"

Fighting back a smile, I said, "The first time he showed up, he said it was because I broke the rules. I have the exact quote written down at home, but he said something like…breaking the rules 'made the tapestry light up,' and he could finally find me because of that broken rule."

"Tapestry? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Not sure. Maybe something to do with the threads of fate? I'm honestly not sure if he was being metaphorical, or what." I shook my head. "Anyway. The day Hiruko first appeared to me was the same day I met Kuwabara, and I met Kuwabara way before Keiko did in the anime. I think that was the event that counted as breaking the rules."

Kagome remained unmoved. "And this circles back to me, how?"

"Like you said earlier—Kagome's story didn't start till she was 15. Her life wasn't shown until she turned 15, anyway, and there weren't many characters, if any, in her present timeline who actually impacted the events of the series after she went down the well. There's no one she could interact with at age 10 who could change the direction of her life." I tapped the table with a fingernail for emphasis. "Maybe it's too early for you to be breaking rules, because in this part of the timeline—"

Kagome pointed at me, jaw dropping. "Oh—oh! I get it! Because Kagome's life was a giant question mark before the Bone Eater's Well activated, there are no rules for me to break yet!"

"Exactly!"

"This makes so much sense! No wonder Hiruko hasn't talked to me." Her lips curved. "Meeting you seems like a broken rule. Think I'll be meeting the infamous Hiruko soon?"

"Definitely keep an eye out for him, for sure. But don't get discouraged if he doesn't appear right away. He's elusive." I held up two fingers. "I've only met him twice. Once when I was seven, and then again two nights ago."

"Wow, just two nights? What rule did you break this time?"

"I made friends with Kuwabara." Hiruko had seemed pleased by this transgression, so I figured that was it. "Kuwabara and Keiko didn't really interact much, so…"

"Kuwabara…" Kagome thought on it a minute, then smiled. "Right. The one with the long red hair."

"No, that's Kurama."

"Oops. Too many characters in that anime have K names!" She tapped her chin, thinking—and then she snapped her fingers. "Right! Curly orange hair, loud, ugly? Dumb?"

I winced. "He's not actually dumb. Just unfocused. But yeah. That's the guy."

Kagome seemed quite satisfied with herself. "Cool."

"Yes. He's very cool." I'd have to educate her about the awesomeness of Kuwabara soon, but now was not the time to indulge my inner fangirl. "I also went to Genkai, which Keiko never ever did. Remember Genkai?"

"How could I forget. She's such a badass. But what'd you want to meet her for?"

I explained. Kagome nodded her approval.

"Good thinking. Even if she couldn't make you psychic, at least she gave you Uehara. He's supposed to be the best."

Now that piqued my interest. "He is? Really?"

"Yup. That's what my grandpa said." One small thumb jerked toward her chest. "That's how I heard about him. The guy worked at the shrine a long time ago. Grandpa says he's an aikido master and nobody would make a better sensei." Her glower burned intense enough to singe. "Pretty sure Grandpa thinks I'll give up and quit when it gets hard, but I've never quit anything in my life, so he's got another thing coming!"

"Funny—my mom thought the same thing," I said. "She hated when I asked to take lessons and was glad when I quit my old sensei. I haven't told her about Uehara yet." My feet shifted, nerves rising. I passed my hands through my hair, fiddling with the ends of my pigtails until the feeling settled. "Still don't know how I'll keep this from her. I don't like lying, but it's important I learn to fight."

"Parents," Kagome sighed, as if it explained everything (and perhaps it did). Her grin was positively roguish. "Hey—if you need a cover, just say you're helping out at my grandpa's shrine for extra credit. I'll get him in the loop. He'll cover for you, no problem."

Her offer—selfless and sudden and instantaneous—made me feel a whole heck of a lot better. I dropped the pigtail and put my hand on my thigh, calm and still once more.

"Thank you," I told her. "I mean it. That'll really help."

"No problem! I'm just glad we met, y'know?" Her expression turned serious. "This is one crazy coincidence, if you ask me. Think this was by accident, or by design?"

"No idea," I said. "I find design more probable, but if it's actually coincidence, then it's proof we live in a really small world—small even without the help of the internet." I shook my head and laughed, more out of desperate relief than humor. "I still can't believe I found someone else, you know? Hiruko mentioned something about 'other candidates' at one point, but I thought I was the only one he'd picked. Never thought I'd find another person like me, and—why are you looking at me like that?"

Kagome stared with outright alarm, like I'd pulled off a mask and revealed I was actually a chupacabra wearing human skin. I stared right back, what-the-fuck-is-wrong written all over my face. I got the feeling that if she'd been standing, Kagome would be edging away from me. Slowly.

"You…you never suspected there was more than one of us?" she said, incredulous and careful. "You? Miss Super Thinker?"

"Um. No?" Her expression set my blood to heating. "Did you suspect something?"

Kagome stared for another moment, and then her eyes fell shut. She took three deep breaths, then opened her eyes again.

They glittered. With humor? I wasn't sure.

"Hey, Eeyore," Kagome said. "I take it you don't follow the news much, right?"

"Not really." I had more pressing matters to attend to than politics in this new life. "Why do you ask?"

Rather than reply, Kagome stood. The legs of her chair rang against the pavement like bells.

"Follow me," she said—and the next thing I knew, she'd grabbed her gym bag and taken off down the street.

After scrambling to throw our trash away (being in a hurry was no excuse to leave your yogurt cup behind, Kagome!) I followed my new friend. With my longer legs, I caught up by the time she reached the corner. She turned left, then right, tracing a winding path toward the city's most popular shopping district. Many shops and restaurants were still open around here. People milled on the sidewalks, minding their own business beneath glimmering neon signs, only glancing our way when Kagome nearly barreled into someone and shrieked at them to watch their step. Man, did she have a pair of lungs! I apologized as we ran past. People jumped out of Kagome's way like she was an oncoming train instead of a particularly forceful ten-year-old.

Just as I was about to ask where the heck she was taking us, she skidded to a stop on the sidewalk and pointed.

"That newsstand," she said. "C'mon."

The man behind the counter of the newsstand barked at Kagome when she snatched up a local paper, asking if she was going to pay for that, but she dug into her pocket and tossed him a coin before the words were even out. The girl cursed as her small hands fumbled with the sheets, but soon she held aloft one of the back pages.

"Sorry to spring this on you," she said, angling the paper toward the light of the lamppost overhead, "but do you recognize her?"

I started to ask what the heck she was talking about, but as soon as I opened my mouth Kagome hissed through her teeth and rattled the paper. I sighed, exasperated, and leaned down to see what she was trying to show me—

Oh.

Oh.

I snatched the paper from her tiny hands and stared, stared, stared until I thought I might burn a hole straight through the blurry image printed below the article's bold title.

MASKED VIGILANTE FOILS YAKUZA PLOT, it said.

And the girl in the photo—

The one wearing the red domino mask and schoolgirl sailor uniform—

The one with the long blonde hair pulled back with a red ribbon, visible even in this out-of-focus shot—

The one kicking a tattooed mobster in the face with a red high heel, fighting stance unclear but recognizable in the center of the fuzzy photo—

"OK," Kagome said. "Don't keep me in suspense. Do you know her?" She laughed. "I'm guessing yes, if your oh-shit-face is any indication."

I swallowed. I tucked the paper under my arm and rubbed my temples with my fingers.

"She started showing up a few months ago," Kagome said. "Media loves her. Haven't given her a name yet, but I'm sure in a few weeks they'll come up with the obvious."

I hummed an affirmation. I wasn't capable of much else.

"I've been collecting newspaper articles, trying to find her, but no luck yet. Seems active mostly in Tokyo, but she's come here a few times." She chucked my arm, beaming. "Can't believe I saw this before you, Miss Thinker!"

"This," I said. I paused so I could collect myself. My heart pounded like the bass drum on a Megallica track. "This is insane."

"Insane, or awesome?" Kagome said.

"Insane. Definitely, definitely insane."

She chucked my arm again.

"Oh, c'mon! Cheer up!" she warbled. " You can't possibly be upset that Sailor V is out there!"

There it was.

She'd said it.

Sailor V.

Soon-to-be Sailor Venus.

Leader of the Sailor Scouts, and guardian of the Moon Princess, Serenity.

If I hadn't seen the photo with my own eyes, I'd have called Kagome a nutbar.

"This is…you mean to tell me Sailor Moon exists in this world?" I grated out when I found the will to speak. Kagome's chipper face reflected none of the anxiety mounting in my chest. "That's three separate fandoms in the same universe. How the hell does that even work? How the hell is that possible?"

Because it shouldn't work. It couldn't work. Sailor V could not be here. That was just not fucking possible, OK?! This was beyond anything I'd ever dreamed or suspected, even after meeting Kagome and realizing there was another—

Another.

No.

Others.

I smacked the paper with the back of my hand, because that was all I could manage just then and because oh my god, what the fuck did all of this even mean?

"I just. I'm beyond. I can't. I mean…dude. Bro. C'mon," I babbled. My voice shook like a sail in a storm. The syllables cracked and broke and strained, but somehow I ground the words out. "What are the odds at least one of the Sailor Scouts is like us? Low, right? Because this doesn't make any sense."

Kagome—another girl of many lives, another switcheroo character, my new friend and only confidante—grinned like the devils we were both destined to meet.

"Sorry, dollface," she told me, "but I'm betting the odds of that are pretty damn high."