Phobos and Deimos chased each other through the boughs of an enormous tree.

It was a gift to watch them, and Rei enjoyed the gift, from her perch higher up in the tree. When she looked down, the tree's trunk reached all the way down. All the way. She tallied underworlds of wealth, underworlds of dream, primordial shadow… Down to the foundations of everything; she thought she could see a giant serpent or two gnawing at bedrock.

I'm dreaming, she thought.

But it was a good dream. She had a pleasant sense of smallness, a reminder that her private turmoils really didn't matter, barely counted as a vein on a leaf of the World-Tree. Phobos whooshed past her again in a playful loop, and Rei laughed to herself. Asleep or awake, it was a balm to her heart, to see her attendants taking joy of each other. Companions. No matter what…

And then Rei found herself falling, slowly sinking in the manner of dreams. Out of the boughs of the World-Tree and into the recent past.

She was standing in the book fair, and —

And there was James Sun, standing in front of her. He looked pale and washed-out. He wasn't looking at Rei and Rei certainly wasn't looking at him.

She was just… aware of him.

It made sense. You had to be aware of your enemy.

The word threw her down an echoing pit—

ENEMY. ENEMY. ENEMY.

She clawed at walls of ice. Her reflection showed a fury with blazing violet eyes.

Laughter crescendoed through an icy labyrinth. Cruel laughter. His laughter.

Fire leapt to her hands, making the walls around her buckle and melt. No more cheats— no more tricks.

Enemy.

The maze was his mind and that meant, everything in sight was a worthy target.

Pane by pane and wall by wall, Sailor Mars melted away illusion— until—

She came to a high-ceiling chamber, with walls lined in ice. Thirteen Jadeites regarded Sailor Mars as she entered. Some smiled; others frowned. No matter; her fire warped each one until it vanished in a column of steam. Until she found the one with his back to her. He turned and looked at her over his shoulder. That mad glint in his eyes, that rictus of a smile.

Enemy.

For once, Sailor Mars did not want to fight. She wanted to kill.

The dream shuttered and sped, their fight compressed into a rush of fire and blows—

Memory shone clear. Jadeite lay on the floor, blood dribbling down his chin. He gazed at the ceiling and laughed. Sailor Mars reached out— one hand seized his throat, the second pressed to his sternum. The voice that wooed her, the heart that had made promises. He felt solid and cold through her gloves. And the damned man, he laughed. This, the first time she'd ever touched him. And he burned and he burned. But even after his body was ash, the fire would continue raging inside her.

Enemy.

Incandescent fury. The fire bloomed and flooded the room with heat. Flames caressed his skin, and as his flesh blackened even his screams were merry. Sailor Mars screamed and the fire consumed him, and the only reason it didn't consume her too was because she had a mission, she had to protect Serenity, but only once she was sure he was dead.

The flames that wouldn't harm her filled her gaze— the blackening bones turned into an iron arch, and the flames turned into petals. Red petals. Red roses.

From the ashes under her hand grew a dashing soldier of the Golden Kingdom, and he stood in the arch and pressed himself into the blossoms and thorns.

Wrath was turned into sorrow.

Red roses bloomed all around him, they bloomed around Sailor Mars.

The two of them stood in a bower. Scant inches away, thorns lurked by the hundreds, waiting to scratch. There was barely room there for one person, let alone two.

But Jadeite pressed himself into the thorns anyway. He respected the boundaries Sailor Mars drew around herself. Silently he watched Mars. He looked at her, didn't push her to speak or offer false comforts. He just looked at her, reading her. And though she wanted it to be a spiritual communion—although she loved their wordless way of speaking— she couldn't help looking at the set of his jaw, the part of his lips, and wondering…

Rei remembered, as she dreamed. This scene— it dated to before his betrayal. Did he know already? Was he already planning—

A little flutter on Sailor Mars' forehead—a fallen rose petal. Thoughtlessly Jadeite reached out and brushed the crown of her head. His hand lingered for a moment on her hair— she looked up and oh, how his eyes burned into hers. A well lined in blue stones and she was called by the depths.

And then his hand fell away.

And Sailor Mars could have wept, but for her vow. The vow that kept her together even when her heart shattered to pieces. What matter if his desire called out to hers— it would mean nothing.

And yet there was one gift she could give, and now was the time.

"Jadeite," she whispered, "There's one last thing I can give you. I want you to know my name."

"Oh," he said. Then, "Mars, you shouldn't…"

She silenced him, holding her finger just above his lips. "Listen."

He obeyed.

"Aresyne." She only spoke the word once. "Remember it. Remember me."

A ragged awakening.

How could I do that? How could I have given him something so precious?
Rei pulled herself to wakefulness. She was tangled in her sheets.

Was he false, even then? Is that why he protested—

No. I'm not dwelling on the past.

A few minutes later Rei stood on the porch of her house. She'd wrapped an old shawl around herself. The sight of the old trees of Hikawa Shrine reassured her. Normal dimensions, normal amounts of morning dew. Rei checked the ground— not a single peckish world-serpent in sight.

Out of the mist appeared her guardian crows, gliding silently towards the house. When they landed, diamond droplets scattered from the boughs.

"You seem troubled, Mistress," said Phobos.

Rei shook her head. She held out a hand— two raw eggs, pilfered from the kitchen. "I brought treats."

"Thank you, Mistress!" said Phobos.

"Raw eggs are our delight," said Deimos.

After the eggs were devoured (with gusto), Phobos said "Mistress, can you tell us…"

Rei tensed slightly.

"The journey to Mars… How are your plans shaping?"

"They're going well," said Rei with some relief. "I picked out the old landing pad in the gardens of Phobos-and-Deimos Castle. Ami and Setsuna calculated the trajectory of our planets. The date is set for the full moon of October. All the science is well planned out— but it's too early in the morning to describe it properly." She adjusted the heavy wrap around her shoulders. "It's going to be a long day. With six of us traveling together, we'll travel faster, but the distance is vast. Setsuna estimates that with Silver Millennium technology, the trip will be about four hours, each way. And we'll spend four hours at Phobos-and-Deimos Castle. So we should be back twelve hours after we depart. If," she added, "nothing goes wrong."

"And the Prince and his retinue?" Phobos asked.

Rei frowned. "They're doing something else. Teleportation practice." And did Sun's arrival throw a wrench into those plans? Rei wondered. Of course, it didn't matter to her. Still.

The sun began to rise, tinting the air the color of ripe persimmons. Would mornings in Crystal Tokyo ever be this rich with mist, with such a perfume of frost and smoke? No doubt she would love the Crystal Tokyo sunrises— she was sensitive to beauty in all its forms— but she would miss this old world, mired in ash and grime as it was.

"Has Luna been in touch with you lately?" Rei asked.

Phobos and Deimos kept up a correspondence with the guardian cats, but they preferred to speak with Luna.

"The Princess's guardian has made us an offer," said Phobos. "But not one we care to accept."

"Tell me?"

"She offered us passage alongside you. We said absolutely not—"

"But thanks all the same," Deimos finished.

Rei thought this over. Deimos hopped over to be a little nearer.

"We could only travel in our other forms," said Deimos, "it would be a great strain and risk, all so we could visit ghosts. It is not our journey to take, not now. Mistress, you should go to Mars and take great joy of it."

Phobos lifted her head to the brightening sun, and spread her wings. "One day, Mistress, we shall return. We will light the sacred fires, and bright red banners will snap again in a cloudless sky."

Rei twisted the shawl in her hand, over her heart. "Phobos… Deimos…"

There was too much in her head. Hollow ghosts and hallowed ground. "I," she said, "will not dwell on the past."

I was too sharp, Rei thought to herself later.

Her guardian crows hadn't taken offense. In the etiquette of corvids, a little snap like that barely registered.

But human etiquette required equanimity.

Dignity kept Rei's chin up when she met with the other Inner Guardians again. Usagi gave Rei a hug and asked how her grandpa was doing, for which Rei was very grateful.

Minako, on the other hand, felt mischievous.

They were walking by a movie theater and Mina was admiring the posters of handsome men in various states of undress. It was one of those movies whose plot was just an excuse for women in the dark to watch the gyrations of sculpted male bodies. Mina could say "female gaze" and "it's equal opportunity" all she wanted, but Rei took no pleasure in displays of this kind.

"Yes sir-ee," said Mina with a sigh, as she spared the poster one last glance over her shoulder, "Talk about beefcake. And speaking of which…. Rei?"

"What?" Rei asked coolly.

Minako's tone was balanced perfectly between slyness and sweetness. "What do you think of Mr. Sun, Rei?"

"When did he come up?"

"Just now."

Rei sniffed. "I didn't give him a second thought."

"You did, however…" was that Ami talking? "… give him a good once-over." The traitor Ami Mizuno. Furthermore she seemed impervious to glares.

Equanimity. Rei brushed her hair off her shoulder. "He's a hollow shell of a man, always showing the face he thinks you want to see. And he has a gadfly's sense of humor. Just the kind of man I despise."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," said Makoto good-naturedly. "You despise all kinds of fellows."

Minako knocked Rei with her shoulder. "And I don't expect that's going to change, now, is it Rei?"

"Certainly not." Rei intended to lapse into aloof silence, but Usagi spoiled the effect by saying, "Isn't 'gadfly' a bit harsh?"

"It's actually a compliment," said Ami, who was feeling mighty lucky today apparently. "Socrates was called the gadfly of Athens, and it turned out he was the wisest man in the world."

Rei tossed her hair. "I meant as an irritation, not a mythological figure."

"Socrates existed," Ami said. "It's a matter of historical record."

"Whose side are you even on?" asked Rei, but she asked it with— and this is important— equanimity.

"What side am I ever on?" Ami replied.

"If you say 'logic,' I will fry you."

"Okay, I think that's enough," said Usagi. "Maybe we're moderately stressed."

Makoto quickly agreed. Rei might have asked, "What is there to be stressed about," but Mina caught her eye, commiserated with her, and told her to let the matter go, all with a few eloquent glances. Ami, for her part, began talking about Halloween, and its origins in an ancient Celtic festival. Oh, and Zander had said this. And Zander had said that, and that was very interesting…

What a fool she's become.

It was a sharp lance of contempt that pierced Rei's heart. She frowned and turned her head away from the group, marshalling her thoughts. No; contempt had no place here; not for Ami and Mako. Perpetual exasperation may be Rei's lot, but that was the price of sisterhood.

And Rei thought, I will be damned if I ever give a man priority over my sisters…

"Usagi?"

Usagi had stepped off the path to stand before a tall tea olive shrub. She held a stem in her hands, freshly plucked, heavy with color and perfume.

When Makoto said her name, Usagi turned slowly around to them. "Oh dear," she said. "I'm getting so sentimental— it's just these flowers, they always remind me of Princess Kakyuu of Kinmoku. It's been a long time, but this time of year— oh, don't worry about me!" she added as Mako went in for a hug. "I'll put my tears to work. I'll write a letter to the Kinmoku Sailor Guardians as soon as I can. I've been looking for a reason to reach out to them. And in the meantime…"

"Don't cry because it's over," Mina suggested. "Smile because it happened." She slipped her arm into Usagi's, but her eyes met Rei's as she added, "Personally, I love remembering things, and how friendships begin."

Rei felt her heart leap. She was seen, and understood, with all her battle scars.

"And hey, we really should call those guys again. The tea olive blossoms are a perfect excuse to write, don't you think? And Yaten… man. I remember Yaten. That sneer, that attitude. Oh, I was wild about him." She paused, and the rich blue of her eyes seemed to grow darker, and her expression brighter, as she wandered in memories. "And that hair…"

She trailed off; finally Rei prompted, "What about his hair?"

Mina laughed and buried her laugh with a hand. "Oh, right, we're being diplomatic. We're writing about the beauty of the seasons. That's right. Oh, Bunny, the Starlights will be delighted to hear from you."

Yes… Rei mused as they resumed walking, and Ami fell into step alongside her. If friendship was a crucible, where broken things were made whole, then Minako Aino was a master smith.

… a smith carrying an old flame, perhaps, for Yaten Kou? God forbid. That was just a passing reverie.

Without preamble Rei said to Ami, "I remember that Taiki Kou developed quite a crush on you."

Ami straightened up said in a dignified way, "That was a long time ago."

"Of course, he was quite a gentleman about it. They had other priorities, and you weren't interested—"

"I didn't know," said Ami in a strangled kind of voice. "Not until well after the fact…"

"I know, I know. I just thought Taiki might like to meet Zander."

"What," said Ami, "do you think they'd start a fight?"

"They might. It would be interesting."

A blush seeped into Ami's complexion. "If Taiki wants to visit again, I will of course be happy to see them. There will be no squabbling."

Alright, Rei had made her point. Enough pushing. "I was just thinking— change of subject— do you remember how the smithies of Venus were the boast of the Solar System?"

"Oh, yes," Ami brightened at once. "I do remember. They crafted our tiaras. Their jewelry was breathtaking—"

"Only matched by the beauty of their blades."

Blandly, Ami added, "And chains, too. For various purposes."

And since when had Ami ever been likely to speculate on Venusians and their chains? Well, all of them must broaden their horizons. Rei reminded herself. They were not getting any more innocent; they must not dwell on the past.

At eight pm, the day following the book fair, James had completed moving his worldly possessions (all one suitcase of them) into the high rise apartment of Nathaniel Kituyama. Nate declared this was cause for a celebration, and they took beers (along with blankets and folding chairs) up to the roof. When they were settled in…

"Here's to a long collaboration," said Nate, leaning over for a toast.

"A happy cohabitation," James agreed. Clink.

Nate laughed. He drank deeply, then said, "Can I tell you something crazy?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I used to have this whole plan for what I would do when the rest of you showed up. I mean, Mamoru was alone for so long, and then I stumble in and remember my role. I thought, it's up to me to be the welcoming committee, and make sure we have the rituals. Some kind of procedure. Go to a temple," he counted on his fingers, "meditate like hell, get all pure, then come back to Tokyo and do things right."

"You mean the investiture ceremony?"

"Yes."

James considered. "So… what happened to your plan?"

"Life happened," Nate admitted. "Zander showed up and he wanted to pledge his oath to Mamoru as soon as he could. No more waiting."

"Yeah. That's how I feel, too."

A solemn nod. A slow grin spread across Nate's face as he added, "And then in summer I asked Mako to introduce me to her favorite temple… Nice retreat house, out in the mountains… and let's just say that temple now has a lot of memories for me."

"I see."

"And they are not pure."

"I get it." Best to change the subject. James said, "Hey, do you still like to go stargazing?"

"Absolutely!"

"That's what you and I should do sometime. Maybe— well, I don't know what the weather's like here—"

"If we have to wait until spring, then we'll wait. I'm not going anywhere." Nate thumped James's shoulder. "Great idea. Speaking of which…"

Nate pulled the blanket off his shoulders and stood up. He stood opposite James. "Okay, let's see if this works."

"What are you doing?" James asked.

"Attempting transformation."

Nate stood with his feet shoulder-width apart. He set his fist over his heart, and shut his eyes. He said, in fast but clear English, "Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light: I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."

What happened next was— inconclusive. It appeared that a fistful of stars twirled their way down from the Tokyo sky, choked with light pollution; they spun around Nate in a half-hearted sort of way before fizzing out, leaving a Nate who was in pyjama bottoms and boots, and a coat half-fastened over a shirt that read GYM RAT. Nate shrugged as he regarded the results of his spell. "Eh. Not great."

"That's amazing," said James sincerely. "You have a warrior mode, like a Sailor Guardian."

"Thanks," Nate said, warming up a bit. "I'm not up to transforming like Mamoru can, but we think that'll happen in time. And Zander found out that it's possible—" he held out a hand, palm-up. His brows furrowed and he said, "Odin's messenger!"

For an instant a little raven-shaped shadow took shape in the air above his hand. James even thought he could see a starry corvid eye gleam at him. But a breeze blew in and the raven crackled out of existence. "Oh well," Nate stood in his normal clothes now. "Sometimes it works better."

He sat down heavily. "If you can remember a spell from the old days," he said to James, "if you can translate it into your own language, you can cast it. You have to be careful, though— don't burn through all your energy."

"Yes, sir."

Nate laughed again. "I mean, you're remembering all the training we had, the lessons. And now we train again, together. You'll get the hang of it." Nate finished off one beer and started on a second.

After a spell, James said, "I remember the old days— the whole royal court and our visits to other planets— it comes back to me like one of those soap operas my grandmother used to love. Kind of low-budget, a fairy tale that's gone on so many reruns I know how it ends… but I still want to watch every episode. Like my grandma, I guess." He took another sip.

Nate offered, "That sounds well-organized to me."

James smiled. Then, quite on an impulse, he asked, "Being here… being with the Prince… does it change you?"

He spoke in Japanese, using the term "shujin." Nate nodded at once.

"Yes. I feel like I've become more myself, if that makes sense. I'm more the person I was meant to be. When I met Mamoru, things… came into focus. The needle finally found true north. It's hard to explain it better— and it's complicated," he added, "because I met Mako at the same time, and she's been a good influence too."

James made a neutral noise. Apparently not neutral enough, because Nate heard it and asked, "Anything you want to talk about?"

James considered. He had been informed that Ami of the book fair was, in fact, Sailor Mercury. And that was Zander's girlfriend; Zoisite's doom. Absurd. Yet true.

And it wasn't even an isolated incident: Sailor Jupiter had led Nephrite to his death; she had been reborn to be Makoto, to lead Nate to Mamoru, to smile from Nate's phone in a thousand lightning pixels. Paradoxical, impossible, and true.

If Nate had asked, James might have admitted to a vein of selfish pride in his soul. James had found Mamoru by naught but his own intution. When he renewed his oaths tomorrow, he would do so with a heart free of any other bonds.

And why couldn't they all just keep a nice professional distance…

Why couldn't James just take Nate by one ear, Zander by another ear, and say to them, with a good shake, "Doesn't this seem like a bad idea?"

And with his successive threadbare dreams of the Silver Millennium, James was learning that Jadeite had not been exempt from this parade of foolishness. No, Jadeite had held Sailor Mars very dear. A jewel in his heart, and James had intuited that from the moment he'd seen Hino Rei at that bookfair.

Thankfully, James was not Jadeite. Heaven preserve him, he at least could avoid falling into the trap that had taken Nate and Zander.

None of this he said out loud.

Into the silence, Nate said, "Okay, well, let me finish my train of thought. I remember being Nephrite. I remember the corruption. The choices we made. If all I had to live with were those memories, I would be in a dark place right now. But being with the Prince, in the twenty-first century, that puts me back on the right track. And I remember growing up in Vancouver, just being Nate Kituyama, and that balances out the rest of it." He raised his beer in a silent toast, and then drank deeply. He said, "The Prince is my north star. I would find him even if I forgot everything else, but I don't want to forget anything else. All of it was necessary to make me who I am now. And that's pretty cool, isn't it?"

James nodded. What he wanted to say caught in his throat, and no Shakespeare came to the rescue.

"You'll figure it out," said Nate kindly.

James set his eyes on the city horizon. Slowly he said, "You were onto something about rituals. Beginning things in a proper kind of way. It's a good idea, but now isn't the time."

"Thanks— that's right, we have more to look forward to."

When James remembered his investiture ceremony, afterwards, it came back to him like polaroid snapshots, with scribbled memorandum.

And Minako always did have a polaroid handy for these things. She had snapped a photograph of Nate in a ring of winter trees, with a crown of roses and a look of bewildered joy. And Zander's snapshot had him a little out of focus as he turned to say something to Mamoru. In his hands he held cherry boughs just in bloom. So that was one tradition: the polaroids.

Another tradition: The investiture ceremony was held on the grounds of Hikawa Shrine, in a clearing of maple trees.

And James had no objection to this tradition, but it was a pretty grim five minutes when he found out that— in fact— Rei Hino not only worked at Hikawa Shrine, she lived there. So there was to be nowhere untouched by the char of that dangerous Sailor Guardian. Well, except for the sanctum of his heart. So James meditated, to get the sanctum of his heart as clear and organized as he could make it. With ten minutes' preparation, he felt he did all right.

Another snapshot: the first look at Mamoru as James and Nate climbed the stairs to the top of the hill.

Mamoru was smiling with that kindness, that reassurance, that was so familiar to James yet stung him. I don't deserve it, James thought.

Nate hugged Mamoru, but James hung back. "Sir," he said, and bowed.

The Prince said, "You can use my given name, you know."

"I don't suppose you mean 'Endymion,'" said James.

"I mean 'Mamoru.'" A little shadow passed over his face. "My parents named me that for a reason."

"Oh. Where are they now?" James asked.

"They died when I was a little boy," came the reply. James tried to say "I'm sorry," but Mamoru waved it away.

"It was a long time ago, and I'm sure they're at peace. At least, they've never shown up to haunt me."

"Well…" James stuck his hands in his pockets. "I had a ghost of my own, but he was still alive. My father. Stuck me with his parents in Hong Kong, and I wasted years wishing he would come back for good. I'm sorry that you were alone for so long." He wanted to kick himself for sounding awkward.

But Mamoru didn't seem to mind. "And we were separated by just— what— the sea? We could have kept each other company." He slapped James's shoulder lightly. "What about you, Nate? Any unhappy childhood stories to share?"

"Eh," came the response. Nate was looking down the stairs whence they had come. "My temper got me in trouble. Here comes Zander."

All of a sudden James was nervous. He wasn't ready for the ceremony. He paced into the shrine a little bit and then back, glancing at the skyline of Tokyo around them.

This was a mistake. He wasn't ready. He was going to screw it up again, wasn't he? He should have gone on a journey of atonement before he so much as touched the hem of Tuxedo Mask's cape.

Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could retreat into a monastery, dedicate his life to copying out the works of Shakespeare on vellum…

At that moment Zander mounted the top of the steps. He held a little paper box.

Nate and Mamoru began to walk ahead; James made to join the formation but Zander called him back.

"You look pale," Zander's voice was matter-of-fact. "Are you feeling alright?"

James shrugged. "Just the past," he said. He still fidgeted.

Something alit briefly in Zander's face; for just an instant, he had looked a great deal older. "You aren't alone, you know."

"I don't deserve Mamoru's forgiveness."

"None of us do," said Zander. He set a hand on James's shoulder. "Breathe." James inhaled deeply. He exhaled as Zander said, "And we do want to put our best face forward for Hino-sensei."

James stood up straighter. "I don't care what she thinks of me."

"Of course you don't. By the way…"

Zander opened the small paper box. He drew a boutonniere out into the sunlight. It bore a lavish, pumpkin-orange ranunculus, offset by a spray of ferns. "Here," and gracefully Zander set to work pinning the flowers on James's lapel. "It's tradition."

The dark blue coat looked very well with the flowers. It had been an ordinary coat until that moment, and James thought, I will remember this moment for the rest of my life. "Thank you," he said. And "Thanks" as Nate called them over.

"Let's go," said Zander.

James hurried alongside him, conscious of the flowers, conscious of the magic in them— these were Zander's work, and no question— and he looked forward and saw Mamoru smiling at them both.

In that moment, the melancholy dissipated from James's being. A benediction— words from Benedict, actually, Much Ado About Nothing and the sunlit hills of Messina— resonated in Mamoru's smile:

Serve God, love me, and mend.

Time to make his vow. Time to start over, and seize his second chance.