THE SPECTER OF SUTŌKĀ
Chapter 4: "Seeking the Perfect Gift"
A Sailor Moon fanfic
By Bill K.
Emerging on the fifth floor from the elevator of an inner city apartment building, Superintendent Natsuna Sakurada and Sailor Venus walked down the balcony overlooking the city toward a specific apartment. Residents on the balcony turned and stared. Sakurada, in her designer jacket and skirt, was a rare and unusual sight in itself. But Sailor Venus, too? People stared. Kids flocked. Soon the residential balcony was choked with people.
"Official business!" shouted Sakurada, waving her badge. "Please let us through!"
"I got this," Venus replied. "Hey, everybody, we've got a little situation here that just might become a little hairy, OK? So how about everybody stand back so nobody risks getting hurt. And after we're done, I'll sign anything you want me to sign. Deal?"
"Are you going to arrest somebody?" gasped a wide-eyed ten year old boy.
"Only if he doesn't do what the nice Senshi asked him to do," Venus smiled sweetly. "Now I want you and your friends to grow up to be huge Sailor Venus fans and buy all of her merchandise, so back up so you don't get hurt."
"Huh, Sailor Jupiter is better," sneered an older youth.
The question became a hot debate among those on the balcony, but they did back up enough to allow Sakurada and Venus through. Arriving at apartment 506, Sakurada hit the buzzer.
They were greeted by a rough looking man of about forty. To Sakurada, he looked like a man of low education and iffy morals, types she'd dealt with her entire career. To Venus, he looked like someone even the Yakuza would reject as beneath their standards. When the man recognized Sakurada, his expression grew even more sour.
"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," he huffed and started to close the door. Venus, though, stuck her hand out and pushed it open, then walked inside. Sakurada followed. "Who's the cos-player?"
"Why have you been sending pornographic e-mails to me?" Venus demanded.
"I NEVER!" roared Oonishi.
"Venus," rumbled Sakurada. "I'll ask the questions."
"I never did no such thing, Sakurada!" Oonishi fumed. "This skirt is off her rocker!"
"Venus Love-Me Chain!" Venus snapped. The golden links shot out and surrounded Oonishi, causing him to stumble back onto a chair. "This 'skirt' is the real thing. So answer the question like a nice little lowlife."
"Venus!" growled Sakurada. "Release him immediately!"
Venus scowled at her friend. But she complied. Oonishi remained in the chair.
"I never sent nothing to her!" Oonishi howled. "Her or anyone! You got the wrong guy, I tell you!"
"You have a nikei e-mail account listed as 'samurai2010'?" Sakurada asked.
"No! I never had an e-mail period!"
"The internet account lists the billing address as this apartment," the Superintendent informed him.
"HEIBEI!" bellowed Oonishi.
A fourteen year old boy timidly entered the room from the doorway where he'd been listening. Sakurada recognized the fear the boy carried for the older man. Venus recognized the look of absolute adulation for her. Heibei stopped a fair distance from everyone and was visibly nervous.
"Is that your e-mail account?" demanded Oonishi. Heibei didn't want to answer at first, but a stern look of warning from his father loosened his tongue.
"Y-yes," he admitted under duress.
"Did you send those e-mails to Minako Aino?" Sakurada asked. She used a more level tone.
Heibei looked down, a cornered animal.
"Yes," he said finally.
"Pretty strong language for a kid," Venus remarked.
"I'm fourteen!" protested Heibei.
"SHUT UP!" snapped Oonishi. "What's the charge, Sakurada?"
"No charge," Sakurada replied. "I just wanted to find who sent them and what his plans might be."
"NOTHING! HONEST! I . . .!" Heibei cried. Then he withdrew into himself again. "I-I just wanted to . . .I mean, she's so hot! And she sings so nice. And I just . . ."
Venus walked over to him. Heibei initially backed away, but Venus caught him by the shoulder. He looked up at her, fearing the wrath of god.
"Heibei," Venus began softly, "if you were trying to impress a girl, you really went about it all wrong. Treat us like we're human beings, not a tissue that you use and throw away. We want to be respected. Messages like what you sent aren't going to get you anywhere with anyone other than someone you probably don't want to be involved with anyway."
"I just . . ." Heibei mumbled.
"You're a fan," smiled Venus. "And you're fourteen, so you're a steaming pot of hormones on top of it. We all do things we regret." She leaned in, sympathy painted on her face. "Just don't do it again."
"Yes, Venus-San," Heibei swallowed.
"You done?" Oonishi growled at Sakurada.
"I think so," she replied. "Coming, Venus?"
"Yeah," sighed Venus. But she paused at the door and looked back to Oonishi. "Oh, Father of the Year, if I find out you hurt him because of this, I'll be back."
The door slammed in her face.
"My, that was refreshing," mocked Venus.
"At least we know he's not stalking you," Sakurada offered.
"Yeah, but a few others are," Venus said as several dozen kids and more than a few adults were queued up, waiting for her. "OK, one at a time. Make sure you've got a pen, because I don't have one. One selfie photo's for free, two or more will cost you."
In the inner office that Queen Serenity used as a den, drawing room, unofficial meeting place and gossip parlor, the Queen was sitting on a chair. Setsuko, fourteen and beginning to bud into a woman, was modeling a dress her parents had bought for her to wear at the Christmas party Serenity threw every year. In full blown mother mode, Serenity picked and primped the dress so that it looked just right.
"Perfect," she declared at last.
"Do I really look nice?" Setsuko asked urgently. She whirled and looked at herself in a full length mirror Serenity had conjured up moments ago out of dust particles.
"Oh, yes, Setsuko-Chan!" gushed Serenity. "I think you look wonderful!"
"Yes, but you're prejudiced," the girl retorted, her tone almost a wail.
"Well, I guess I am," admitted the Queen. "But I can honestly say that you look so beautiful and mature. You'll be the hit of the party." Her face drew into a smirk. "And I'm sure you'll catch the eye of a certain someone."
"Mama!" wailed Setsuko. "Don't start!"
"What?"
"I don't want you making Ichiro-kun uncomfortable!"
"I would NEVER do that!" gasped Serenity. Setsuko gave her a cynical look. "But it doesn't hurt to - - nudge things a little."
"MAMA!"
"Honestly, I NEVER gave my mom this much drama!" Serenity huffed.
"You want to bet?" Rei said from the doorway. "Don't be too hard on her, Setsuko-Chan. She can't really help it."
"WE DON'T NEED YOUR HELP, REI HINO!" snapped the Queen.
"Hino-Sensei, how do I look really?" Setsuko nearly demanded.
"I think you look very beautiful and very stylish," Rei replied.
"You're not just saying that?"
"Setsuko-Chan, have I ever been diplomatic with anybody?"
Instantly Setsuko returned to her reflection, her chest swelling with new-found confidence. Rei drifted over to Serenity. The Queen was about to argue with her friend, but stopped when she sensed the woman's mood.
"Rei-Chan?" the Queen inquired.
"Have you felt anything recently?" Rei asked distantly. "Any disturbances or premonitions of . . . of I don't know what?"
"No," Serenity responded. "But then I have been pretty busy with the plans for the Christmas party. Setsuko-Chan, please put your dress away now. We want it to look nice for the party."
"Can I change here?" Setsuko asked. "I don't want - - um, people - - to see it."
"That's fine," smiled Serenity. She and Rei exchanged knowing glances. "Were you sensing something, Rei-Chan?"
"I don't know," Rei mumbled. "It's like I'm sensing something, but it's dormant - - unfocused."
"A new enemy?"
"It could be," Rei said. Then her face screwed up with frustration. "If only I were a better priest . . .!"
"Now, Rei-Chan, you're the finest priest in all of Japan," Serenity admonished. "Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just some residual spirit energy left over from some spirit that got banished. Maybe it's that time of the month."
"IT'S NOT THAT TIME OF THE MONTH, AIR HEAD!" roared Rei. Only then did she see the smirk grow on Serenity's face and realized she'd been baited. "This country is in SO MUCH TROUBLE with you running it!"
"Well whatever it is, I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out. I have faith in you," Serenity told her. "And, whatever it is, we'll deal with it."
"I'd like to know what we're dealing with, though," Rei sighed. "If it is something supernatural, I'll need to research and prepare."
"Maybe Moriko-obasan can help you figure it out," Serenity suggested, "or maybe divine an answer that you can't see."
"Good idea," nodded Rei.
"And check with Luna and Artemis," added Serenity. "They're always spotting trouble before it happens."
"Another good idea."
"And . . ."
"You got two in a row, Serenity," smirked Rei. "Better quit while you're ahead."
The Queen responded with a familiar tongue wag.
"If you do sense something, let me know, OK?" Rei said. "I don't really know what I'm sensing, but I don't like it. Maybe it's paranoia talking, but I don't like it."
The priest turned and left. Setsuko came up to the Queen, changed into jeans and a tank top, and touched her foster mother's shoulder.
"Is there going to be trouble again?" Setsuko asked.
"I hope not, Setsuko-Chan," Serenity sighed.
"Why does it always have to come around Christmas?" huffed the teen.
"You handled that boy nicely," Sakurada said as she and Sailor Venus walked to her car. "I hope he listens."
"Yeah, me too," Venus sighed. "So what's next on the agenda?"
"I'm headed back to the precinct and check the rest of those names," Sakurada replied. "Hopefully I don't find anything."
"You and me both," Venus said. "I've got enough enemies as it is as Sailor Venus. I don't need stalkers, too." She glanced wryly at Sakurada. "You're enough."
"Having every single item of Sailor Venus merchandise ever minted does not qualify me as a stalker," Sakurada grinned.
"Don't forget the Sailor V wing," prodded Venus. "Hey, can you swing by my agent's building? I want to check on some things with him."
"Stalker things?"
"No, movie negotiation things." She instantly felt Sakurada tense up. "When it's official, you'll be the first to know."
"No hints?" whimpered Sakurada.
"Don't want to jinx it. I've already done enough to get the gods pissed at me."
"A fine way to treat the president of your fan club," scowled the Superintendent.
The car pulled up in front of an office building in Chiyoda-ku. Minako Aino got out of the car, but stuck her head back in before closing the door.
"If you do find anyone else who raises a red flag, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me," Minako said. "I'd appreciate it more if you'd let me ride shotgun if you interview the guy. Most of the mail I get is from faceless fans. If someone is stalking me, I'd like to put a face to the name."
"I'll let you know," Sakurada nodded, "IF I find anything more than more oversexed teenage boys."
"You're the best," Minako replied and closed the door. As the superintendent drove off, Minako headed for the office building. As she entered, she overheard a woman a few feet away turn and whisper to her companion.
"Oh my," she gasped softly. "That's Minako Aino!"
Minako burst into a smile. Those were the dividends of fame.
At a branch of the Kinokuniya Book Store chain in Minato-Ku, Michiru Kaioh sat at a table with copies of a book of prints of her art sitting next to her. Standing next to her was an employee of the store, there to handle any questions, perform on-the-spot purchases and cater to Michiru's needs. Though the line to get the artist to autograph a copy was only four people at the moment, Michiru was grateful that there was still interest in her work.
Still, she couldn't help recalling that the last book signing she'd done had twice the crowd this one had.
"Oh, I just love your work, Kaioh-San!" gushed a round lady with a pinched face and enough overt clues to scream to anyone looking that she had money. "It's just so dramatic!"
"Why, thank you," Michiru smiled. "Who should I autograph this to?"
"Takahara-San," she smiled, looking like a salamander about to gobble a fly. "Yes, I have your previous volume, too. It looks just divine on my coffee table."
"'Best wishes, Takahara-San, from Michiru Kaioh'," Michiru said as she wrote. "Enjoy the book, Takahara-San."
"I can't wait for your next one," the woman smiled and waddled off.
The next in line was a woman of about twenty. She seemed like a college student and Michiru wondered if she was an art major.
"It's such a thrill meeting you, Kaioh-San," the woman remarked. "And I enjoyed your concert the other day."
"I'm glad to hear that," Michiru replied. "Who should I make this out to?"
"Just your signature will be enough," she replied. Michiru began signing. "Tenoh-San looked so amazing that night."
"Yes, she does dress up well," Michiru murmured, smiling to herself.
"Could you introduce me to her?"
Michiru looked up at the woman. She could see the same love-struck expression on the woman's face that she'd seen in too many women and girls since her high school days.
"I'm sorry," Michiru said delicately, handing the book over to the woman, "but Haruka and I like to keep our private lives private."
Instantly the woman's face fell. She took the book and, without a word, turned and walked away.
"Unbelievable," muttered the store employee.
"Not all of Haruka's following has been gained through her exploits on the track," smirked Michiru.
"I'd like to buy one of those books, please," the next man up said. Michiru judged him as one of the art intellectuals who haunted Tokyo, or at least a wanna-be. Probably in need of ammunition for the scathing review he planned. Oh, well, a sale was a sale.
"Certainly, sir," bowed the employee. "Please step around here. Will this be cash or charge?"
When the man stepped over to the side, Michiru was greeted by a small, middle-aged man with an intense stare. In his hands, he clutched a wooden box with four open sides and a carved throne in the center. He seemed to be speaking softly. Michiru couldn't hear what he was saying, but the thing in his hands drew her attention. Michiru studied the item curiously for a moment. Then she refocused on the little man.
"Would you like me to make this out to someone?" Michiru asked. In answer, the man shoved the wooden box forward.
"Wawa Long Invoke!" he hissed. Moments later, he turned and scurried off for the exit.
"Kaioh-San, could you autograph . . ." the store employee began. But when she turned to where Michiru had been sitting, the chair was empty.
Continued in Chapter 5