The Specter of Sutoka Chapter 1: Itsuki, a sailor moon fanfic

THE SPECTER OF SUTŌKĀ
Chapter 1: "Itsuki"
A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

"You're sure she won't mind?" Hikaru Sorano asked. She was on the sound stage of the biggest motion picture studio in Japan, walking with her friend since junior high, Minako Aino. The woman, forty-four and beginning to show the signs of age, nervously brushed at her short black hair.

"Not if you're with me," boasted Minako, also forty-four but looking twenty-four. "Usually actors get a little nervous around fans they don't know in places they're not supposed to be. But Itsuki and I go way back."

"I remember," Hikaru nodded. "You were both in that high school comedy you did on television back in . . ."

"Ah ah, no dates," smirked Minako. "Some people in the world were good at math."

Hikaru giggled. "Well you sure weren't."

"And when I think of how far back that TV show goes, being bad at math comes in pretty handy," joked Minako.

They approached the woman in question. She was sitting on a portable chair, reading a script. Her hair was long and black. Her face was sculpted porcelain with a hint of maturity the makeup artist took pains to conceal. Her figure was petite, but made striking in the flattering white blouse and gray pencil skirt she wore. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Itsuki Enomoto looked up.

"Aino!" she exclaimed happily, her face lighting up. "Are you working on a project here? I know you're not in this thing."

"No, just escorting a friend today," Minako replied. "Itsuki Enomoto, this is my friend Hikaru Sorano. Be nice to her. Not only is she a fan of yours, but she and I go back farther than you and I go back."

"Happy to meet you, Sorano-San," Itsuki said, rising from the chair and bowing.

"I'm honored," Hikaru grinned and bowed in return. "You're one of my favorite actresses. I've loved your work ever since 'The Lilies of Autumn'."

"That long?" gasped Itsuki. "Well thank you for keeping me in the business. So what do you do when you're not keeping Aino out of trouble?"

"Well, I'm just a housewife right now," Hikaru replied. "But with the children out of the house soon, I was thinking about getting back into accounting."

"I wish you success," Itsuki replied with a genuine warm smile. Hikaru was impressed. She'd expected the woman to be aloof and standoffish.

"So how much more do you have left to film?" Minako asked.

"Depends on how many more rewrites they do," huffed Itsuki. "Never let a decent script get in the hands of the marketing consultants."

"Amen," sighed Minako.

"How about you? You in line for anything?"

"Tentative feelers," Minako shrugged. "That whole thing with that producer a few years back has some people leery. But I'm reading a script that I like and if we can come to terms . . ."

"Is there a part for me?" Itsuki asked. "Anything has to be better than this thing I'm working on now."

"Sure, I'll recommend you to the director," Minako said, then grinned mischievously. "You can play my mom."

"If the money's right, I'll play your dad!" Itsuki shot back. Everybody laughed. "Well, I have to get back to these new pages. Sorano-San, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope I can keep pleasing you in the future."

As Minako and Hikaru walked off, Hikaru glanced at her friend.

"She was nice," Hikaru judged.

"Yeah," nodded Minako. "Not everybody in the business is a raving egomaniac."

"I don't think you're raving," smirked Hikaru.

Minako gave her long-time friend a knowing grin.

Hiro Yoshida was ushered into the office of Queen Serenity by two of the palace security guards. Though his appointment was for eleven a.m., he was early and had hoped the Queen wouldn't mind. She didn't and there he was.

Her office wasn't anything like he expected. On one end of the room was a plush sofa and two plush chairs surrounding a coffee table with magazines and what looked like a couple of manga. Overlooking the area was a portrait of a black cat with a yellow crescent moon on its forehead. The cat seemed to be scowling.

On the other end of the room was a big-screen television overlooking a desk. Rather than files or a computer, though, the desk carried several vases with flowers. Near the desk was an artist's drawing table and taboret. Next to it was a child's drawing table. A bookshelf with reference material stood against a wall.

At the drawing table was Queen Serenity. Yoshida recognized her from television. The Queen was sketching something. Looking over her shoulder was a Shinto Priestess, a beautiful woman with long black hair and deep violet eyes. The Priestess glanced over at Yoshida for a moment, then put her hand gently on the Queen's shoulder.

"Hello, Yoshida-San!" Serenity exclaimed, leaping up from the chair and bowing to him. Surprised by her exuberance, Yoshida took a moment before he returned the bow.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said cautiously.

"No, I was just making some sketches for a manga I'm thinking about doing," Serenity replied. Then she sighed. "But they're rotten."

"They're not that bad," the Priestess whispered.

"Anyway, you wanted to talk to me about setting up a charity?"

"Yes, Your Maj .. ."

"Ah, ah," Serenity interrupted, wagging her finger at him. "Please, it's Serenity."

"Very well, um, Serenity," he began again. "In spite of the efforts of your government to provide relief for unfortunates overseas, particularly those in war-torn regions of the world, there is still a great deal of suffering in the world. My hope is to - - augment your efforts by setting up a charity that can provide for those you're unable to help."

"That's a wonderful idea!" exclaimed the Queen, beaming happily. Behind her, the Priestess just stared at him blankly. "I'm so happy to hear someone else stepping up to help others! What did you need from me?"

"Well," Yoshida began, "all I have a right to expect is an accreditation from the government of our charity status. It would go a long way in securing donations and acquiring needed supplies at a donation discount." He glanced over at her. "If you were to decide to endorse our effort or even make a donation, we wouldn't say 'no'. I'm not asking for that, you understand! Simple accreditation would be enough."

"I don't see where that would be a problem," Serenity smiled. "Where did you plan to focus your efforts?"

"Well, you've got Japan and the Pacific Rim well covered," he assured her. "I thought our focus should be in regions such as North Africa and the Middle East. They certainly need help and . . ."

"And the donations are less likely to be traceable the further removed they are from Japanese supervision," Rei said suddenly.

"E-excuse me?" Yoshida replied.

"Rei-Chan?" Serenity said, puzzled.

"This is a scam, Serenity," Rei said, her disgust unmasked on her face. "He's hoping for government backing so he can name-drop you and boost his anticipated collection of donations. He's even hoping you'll give him money, too. Then he'll pocket the money and after a year or two disappear."

"That's an outrageous lie!" stormed Yoshida.

"I think you might want to sell the villa in Switzerland," Rei replied stonily. "You're not going to be able to keep up the payments on it."

Yoshida seemed to go white. Serenity looked at him and the expression of hurt and betrayal in her eyes became at once too much for him to bear.

""I see," Serenity said softly. "I forgive you. But this meeting is over."

Awkwardly, Yoshida exited the room. Rei turned to her friend, one eyebrow cocked, and saw her wracked with guilt and playing with her fingers.

"You believed him, didn't you?" Rei sighed.

"You probably wanted to believe him, too," Serenity pouted. "Until you read him."

"It's a good think Endymion asked me to sit in on this meeting," Rei said. She could see Serenity was disappointed and just a little embarrassed. "I know you want to believe everybody. But there are some people in this world who aren't worthy of your trust."

"I know," Serenity squeaked. "It's just - - I'd rather be conned a hundred times than turn down one person who actually needed help."

From behind, Rei wrapped her arms around Serenity and rested her head on the Queen's shoulder.

"And that's why we love you," Rei said softly.

The applause was beginning to die down. Michiru Kaioh had bowed to the audience and raised the hand of the woman next to her in the white tuxedo, Haruka Tenoh, her accompanyist. Michiru, dressed in a sleeveless green satin bodice with a flared green skirt covered in a black net that ended at her knees, absorbed the applause gratefully. It was nice to still be appreciated. Though the crowds weren't what she'd once drew, there were still fans of her music and the give and take between her and her fans still stimulated her.

Back stage, dabbing at her neck and chest with a towel, Michiru walked to her dressing room, followed by Haruka. Once inside, she carefully replaced her violin in its case and latched it. Haruka was already pulling off the jacket and bow tie of her ensemble.

"I think that went fairly well," Michiru commented, picking the towel back up.

"Fairly? You going to criticize your performance again?" grunted Haruka.

"I missed two notes on that last fourth," Michiru maintained. "Maybe I need to practice that stanza more."

"Maybe you were just tired from practicing too much," Haruka replied. She was already out of the slacks of what she termed "the monkey suit".

"It's not an excuse," Michiru argued.

"They didn't seem to mind."

"They were being polite. Besides, I mind." She glanced over at Haruka, now just in a long sleeve white shirt and champagne panties. "You missed a couple of notes, too, during that Handel piece."

"Got distracted," Haruka scowled, retrieving her jeans.

"Was she pretty?" jabbed Michiru, as both a means to lighten the mood and as a warning shot.

"Wasn't a woman," Haruka frowned. "There was this guy in the front row. He was just staring at you."

"You've seen men stare at me before," Michiru tried to assure her.

"Wasn't that kind of stare. I can take a guy wanting you, 'cause I know they'll never have you. This was different. I didn't like the vibes I got off of him. They were darker." Haruka paused in frustration. "I can't explain it. I just got vibes off of him that the back of my brain was telling me to watch out for."

Michiru came over, folded her arms around Haruka's neck and kissed her.

"Forewarned," she smiled. "I'll be watchful. And I know you'll watch out for me, too. Please don't let it ruin your evening."

"You got plans?"

"I was thinking dinner out," Michiru smiled. "Since you're probably reluctant to get dressed again, I was thinking a casual restaurant where nothing and no one can bother us."

"Sounds good," smiled Haruka. "I won't dwell on the staring guy if you don't dwell on those notes you missed."

"How do you know I'm going to do that?" Michiru demanded with a raised eyebrow.

"Because I know you," Haruka smirked.

And, though it momentarily irked her, Michiru found herself grateful that she had someone who knew her so well.

After dinner in the Ikegami quarters of the palace, Makoto and her husband Sanjuro were washing the dinner dishes. Ichiro was in his room studying for the approaching mid-term exam for his grade. To Sanjuro, his wife seemed distracted, though it didn't prevent her from scrubbing a pot until it gleamed.

"What's eating you?" he asked. "One of the radishes cut too thin?"

"You are so not funny," scowled Makoto. Unprompted, she glanced at her mountainous husband. "Did Ichiro seem bothered by something to you?"

"Well, he's got that big mid-term coming up tomorrow," suggested Sanjuro. "I know that would have bothered me when I was his age."

"Yeah, me too," muttered Makoto. "But something just tells me that it's something else, something not related to school - - or at least school work."

"Mother's intuition?" he teased.

"I know you don't believe in it, but there is such a thing." Rinsing the pot off, Makoto reached for a towel and dried her hands. "Can you finish up?" she asked and walked off, headed toward the bedrooms.

"Must be serious if you're trusting me to clean," Sanjuro smirked.

After knocking on her son's bedroom door, Makoto ventured in. Ichiro was stretched out on his bed. A history book was on his chest, but it was face down on his chest. After a moment, Ichiro glanced at his mother.

"Hi, Champ," she said cautiously. "Excuse me if I'm being nosy, but is something bothering you? I can help you if you need it, just as long as it's not with your homework."

Ichiro let out a long, deep sigh, one of those sighs that signaled a teenager was dealing with a problem considered by teenagers to be of world-shattering importance. Makoto took it as a sign to sit on the edge of the bed, hoping that the act would nudge her son into confiding in her.

"It's nothing," he said after a long pause. Makoto kept silently urging him on. "Well, Setsuko-Chan was telling me about this boy in her class."

"He's not bullying her, is he?" Makoto asked.

"No, Mom. Everybody knows who Setsuko-Chan's parents are," Ichiro replied. He considered his next words. "She says she thinks he likes her."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"He LIKES her."

"Oh," Makoto nodded and a few dozen memories of her adolescence came flooding back. "Does she like him?"

"Not that way. I mean, she's only fourteen!"

"That's," Makoto said from experience, "not an obstacle."

"It's not?" Ichiro asked. He grew uneasy for a second.

"Does it bother you that this boy likes Setsuko-Chan?"

"It shouldn't. I mean, Setsuko-Chan is one of my closest friends. If she finds somebody she likes, that's a good thing - - isn't it?"

"You worried that she won't have any more time for you?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

"Champ," Makoto said, "don't court trouble. Don't worry about a problem that isn't a problem yet. Setsuko-Chan hasn't found the one she wants yet, so don't worry about it until she does." Makoto grinned. "Who knows? She may decide the one she wants is you."

"Yeah, Mom," sighed Ichiro. Makoto patted her son on his thigh and went back to work.

In her quarters in the Crystal Palace the next morning, Minako sat on a plush sofa she had recently bought. A throw pillow was behind her head and her feet were propped up on a coffee table. She was dressed in cut-off jean shorts and a t-shirt with the movie poster from "Princess Of Space" printed on it. A plastic covered tumbler filled with a cold drink sat next to her, the condensation from the cup making a ring on the sofa cushion. In her lap was a script for a proposed film. By her right hand was a pad of paper for notes.

"I thought you were reviewing songs for your next album?" she heard Artemis inquire. Glancing over, the woman saw the white cat perched on the kitchen counter with his laptop open.

"That can wait," Minako replied absently as she made a note. "I want to finish this script so I can call my agent and get negotiations started."

"Is it that good?"

"Yeah!" Minako replied enthusiastically. "I could really get some great reviews - - with the right director. It's pretty meaty."

"So why the notes? If it's so meaty, why ask for changes?"

"Just a couple of things I think could be better with a small dialogue rewrite. And a couple of things that can be negotiated away in exchange for something I want." She glanced over at the cat. "A girl's got to look out for herself."

Artemis smirked and pulled up a news site. Minako took a large drag on her drink and went back to work on the script.

"So, you get Luna pregnant yet?" Minako asked suddenly.

"Classy as ever, I see," Artemis replied sourly.

"I'm taking an interest in your private life."

"You keep your nose out of my private life."

Minako devilishly grinned to herself.

"Oh wow," Artemis said softly. "Hey, Mina, weren't you friends with Itsuki Enomoto from way back?"

"Yeah," the blonde answered, glancing over at him. "Why?"

"She's dead."

Instantly Minako was out of her seat and over at the counter. Her covered tumbler rolled onto the floor, while the script teetered on the edge of the coffee table. She peered over the cat's shoulder at the news item on the web page.

"Stabbed to death," mumbled Minako in shock as she read. "Why?"

"Hard to tell," Artemis replied. "But the guy who did it was apparently stalking her for a while, according to this."

"I just saw her," Minako whispered, staring blankly off into space.

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2