CHAPTER TWO


She was cold…and uncomfortable.

Slow to emerge from the thick, disorienting fog of oblivion that shrouded her senses, Usagi came to lying face down on a cool, unyielding surface. Judging by the stiffness in her neck and the numbness of her left cheek, she'd been there for some time. Blind to her surroundings, she tried to open her eyes but failed. Her lids felt heavy with the weight of inexplicable fatigue and her temples throbbed in tandem with the sluggish beat of her pulse. When she opened her mouth to speak, nothing more than a pitiful moan escaped her lips.

What had happened? She remembered catching up to Mamoru, the buzzing in her ears, the red haze, and then…

A soft, tinny noise rang in her ears. Muffled though it was, it sounded vaguely familiar. Like laughter. The angry pitch of raised voices followed swift on its heels, sharpening Usagi's desire to see what was happening. Clenching a fist, she forced her eyelids to part then blinked until two blurry silhouettes came into focus. Though his back was turned, Usagi recognized Mamoru's tall, unmistakable form almost immediately. The second figure, however, made her do a double take.

Zoisite.

Panic washed over Usagi like a bucket of ice cold water. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she shook her head to clear the last remnants of fog still muddling her senses. Where was she and what on earth was Zoisite doing here? Had the Dark Kingdom discovered her identity? Had they come to capture her?

Usagi turned her gaze to Mamoru and the sight of him standing between her and the Dark General sent a sickening wave of guilt rolling through her stomach. Tiny stars sparked along the borders of her vision, prompting her to squeeze her eyes shut to stop her head from reeling. What had she gotten Mamoru into? Why had she insisted on following him? If she had just gone straight to the Senshi meeting, he wouldn't be here now.

A piercing shriek ripped through the air, and Usagi looked up in time to see Zoisite cup a hand over one bloodied cheek. After a moment of shock his expression turned murderous.

"How dare you scar my beautiful face!" Zoisite cried, sounding every inch the full-blown narcissist Usagi knew him to be. He narrowed his eyes at Mamoru. "You'll pay for this. You and your little girlfriend." Then he vanished in a wild swirl of sakura petals without sparing Usagi a single glance, leaving her more puzzled than frightened. It was like he hadn't even noticed her…

Strange.

"Coward," Mamoru muttered under his breath.

Usagi flattened her palms against the floor in a futile attempt to stop it from spinning. Torn between confusion and panic, she ran over the brief exchange in her mind. There were too many gaps; too many things that didn't make sense. Why had Mamoru and Zoisite been facing off? Had they fought? Had Mamoru tried to defend her? He was no match for Zoisite, and he was already injured; Usagi couldn't let him come to any more harm. She was Sailor Moon, it was her duty to defend the innocent. She had to get him out of here.

"Chiba Mamoru." Zoisite's disembodied voice resonated throughout the empty room, startling Usagi as she rose on unsteady limbs. "If you wish to recover the rainbow crystals, you must fight me for them, man to man."

Usagi narrowed her eyes. Rainbow crystals? Why would Mamoru want the rainbow crystals? Why was Zoisite speaking to him and not to her? Wasn't she the reason they were all here? Her gaze fell on Mamoru's blood-stained shoulder moments before her mind made a traitorous leap of logic.

Tuxedo Kamen had rainbow crystals.

Tuxedo Kamen had fought Zoisite.

Tuxedo Kamen had been injured.

Usagi dismissed the insane notion out of hand, telling herself it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Surely there had to be some other explanation.

"Meet me on the observation deck at the top of the tower," Zoisite instructed, his voice soft and ominous. "If you can stay alive long enough to get there." A trill of sinister laughter punctuated his parting words with chilling effect.

The room grew cold in an instant; too fast to be caused by anything but magic—dark magic. Large icicles spawned overhead, stretching down from the ceiling toward a floor that glistened with the fresh sheen of thick frost. Icy fog misted the air, obscuring Usagi's field of vision and constricting her lungs. On instinct, she assumed a defensive stance. Mamoru followed suit, closing ranks and raising an arm in her direction as though to shield her.

Touched by the gesture, Usagi made an effort to swallow her frustration. Having Mamoru here meant she wouldn't be able to transform until she got him to safety; a feat that would be difficult enough without him complicating matters by playing the hero. There was no telling what Zoisite would throw at them and with no backup to rely on, Usagi was going to have her hands full keeping them both alive. Thinking of her communicator, she scanned the floor for her schoolbag but found no sign of it. She was on her own.

An ominous creaking sounded from above, pulling her gaze. Several of the icicles had already doubled in size and were now too heavy to support their own weight. Tilting her head back, Usagi grew still as she watched tiny, hairline cracks spread across the wide base of the shaft dangling above her. Time seemed to slow as the huge spear broke away from the ceiling. Moving to jump out of the way, Usagi gasped in horror when she realized, too late, that the soles of her shoes had frozen to the floor.

Mamoru's cry of alarm sounded in her ears as she closed her eyes and braced for impact. Before the deadly spike could skewer her, strong arms encircled her waist, propelling her backwards, away from danger. Crashing down against the hard floor together, Usagi looked into Mamoru's eyes and experienced a simultaneous rush of overwhelming relief and nauseating déjà vu. Thankfully, there was no time to dwell on it.

Mamoru was pulling her up off the floor in the next instant and telling her to run. Usagi obeyed without argument, forgetting her role of protector as she concentrated on maintaining her footing. The floor had turned into a veritable skating rink, and it was all she could do just to stay on her feet. Matching his pace to hers, Mamoru kept one hand at the small of her back, righting her whenever she faltered and urging her onward as lethal shafts of ice smashed down around them.

When Usagi swerved right to avoid a pile of frozen debris obstructing her path, Mamoru snagged the hem of her shirt and yanked her back toward him. She had no sooner opened her mouth to protest than another massive icicle shattered against the floor in the very spot she'd occupied mere moments ago. Shaken, she looked to Mamoru and found him wincing and grasping his injured shoulder. A similar image from the night before flashed unbidden through her mind.

Tuxedo Kamen. Alone. Injured. Poised to surrender.

In an act of self-preservation—both mental and physical—Usagi forced the image from her thoughts. She couldn't afford to be distracted right now, it would only get her killed. She needed to focus in order to get through this; to get them both through this. Mamoru was trying to protect her, but she was a Sailor Senshi, she was supposed to be protecting him. He had no idea what, or whom, they were dealing with, and scared as she was, Usagi feared the worst was far from over.

As if to prove her right, the ground shuddered beneath her feet, sending her reeling into Mamoru. The thunderous crack that followed drowned out Mamoru's low grunt as he pulled Usagi against his injured shoulder. Wide fissures opened up on either side of them and an involuntary scream tore from Usagi's throat as the floor started to give way, crumbling under the pressure of the aerial barrage and falling into nothingness. Terrified by the growing chasm that threatened to swallow them whole, Usagi turned her eyes skyward and picked up the pace.

Never one for stoicism, she let out a moan of despair between panting breaths. "Why is this happening?"

Mamoru pressed his free hand against the small of her back—whether in comfort or simple urging, Usagi didn't know—and steered her around a gap in the floor. "Keep running," he told her, shouting over the roaring chaos. "There's an elevator up ahead!"

Fixing her gaze on the metal doors, Usagi pumped her legs and prayed for speed. Leaping over a hole, she experienced a heart-stopping moment of panic when her left foot came down on nothing but air. Before she could plummet to her death Mamoru grabbed her hand and pulled her to safety. Making a mental note to thank him if they survived, Usagi reached the elevator and began pounding the buttons.

"Open, damn you, open!" she cursed, glancing back at the steadily disappearing floor while Mamoru tried in vain to pry the doors apart.

Convinced that they were about to die, she hit the buttons one last time and whooped with glee as the doors finally slid open. Mamoru reached for her waist to propel her forward, but Usagi needed no such assistance, diving into the elevator car head first. She landed on her hands and knees then waited, frozen, until she heard the doors close behind her. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and sat back on her heels.

"Thank God we're safe," she whispered.

"I don't think we're out of the woods yet."

Though Usagi's stomach lurched in response, a sense of morbid curiosity compelled her to open her eyes. The sight that greeted her made her wish she hadn't. Shimmering in and out of focus like a mirage, the elevator walls pulsed and bowed before morphing into a tangled mass of horrendous, slime-coated vines. Repulsed, Usagi swivelled toward the door only to watch it disappear before her eyes.

She was trapped.

In a waking nightmare.

With no means of escape.

"This must be why they say to take the stairs in an emergency," she muttered.

A weary chuckle sounded behind her. "You may be right, Odango," Mamoru replied. "You may be right."

For the first time in their acquaintance, Usagi found a measure of comfort in the nickname. It was probably just fear causing her brain to short circuit, but hearing the name helped calm her somehow. She was trapped, but she wasn't alone. Mamoru was here with her. Discomfited by the odd flutter of warmth that accompanied the thought, Usagi chided herself for being so selfish. Mamoru was in danger because of her. She should be horrified, not relieved.

She turned and found him standing at the exterior wall. Made from solid glass, it was the only vertical space in their cramped quarters free of disgusting, slimy vines. Eager to put as much distance between herself and the pulsating greenery as possible, Usagi climbed to her feet to join him. Stepping up to the glass, she felt the weight of Mamoru's gaze settle upon her. Resisting the urge to meet his eyes, she looked outside instead.

The floor-to-ceiling glass afforded her a spectacular view of the city. Night had since fallen, and an endless sea of sparkling lights twinkled beneath her gaze. As the elevator car made its slow ascent toward the unknown, Usagi raised a finger and traced their glow, counting as many as she could. To her, each light represented a person, or perhaps several people, going about their ordinary lives, oblivious to the horror occurring mere miles away. Flattening her palm against the glass wall of her prison, Usagi tried to ignore her fervent desire to be one of them.

"I'm sorry I got you caught up in this, Odango."

Aptly timed, Mamoru's apology was precisely the distraction Usagi needed. Shaking off her maudlin thoughts, she turned away from the world outside her reach and focused on her unlikely companion. So, Mamoru blamed himself for their current situation. Why? Usagi had avoided the question as long as she could, but it refused to go unasked. Was she ready to hear the answer?

"Do you know why we're here, Mamoru?"

Watching her with a shuttered gaze, Mamoru cupped his injured shoulder and leaned against the glass. Rubbing sweaty palms against the fabric of her skirt, Usagi shifted her weight from one foot to the other and awaited his answer. Given her hesitation in asking the question, she could hardly fault him for a delayed response, but as the seconds ticked by in uninterrupted silence, she began to lose patience. Unnerved by his silent regard and convinced he had no plans of answering her, she sighed and looked away.

"I do."

Surprised to receive not just a reply but an admission of sorts, Usagi turned her eyes back to Mamoru. His expression remained unchanged, but there was a weariness in his gaze she hadn't seen before. When he seemed content to say no more, Usagi frowned. "Care to elaborate?" she prodded.

Mamoru's mouth flattened in a grim line. "I made a deal with someone," he replied, glancing upward. "The person you saw before; the person who's causing all of this."

Usagi's pulse accelerated as Zoisite's face flashed through her mind. "What kind of deal?"

This time there was no hesitation. "We both had something the other wanted," Mamoru said, "so we arranged to meet and settle matters one on one." He paused as a bitter scowl darkened his features. "It was foolish of me to think things would be that simple." Resting his brow against the glass, he released a weary sigh. "Needless to say, Odango, nothing has gone as planned."

He looked utterly defeated, and Usagi might have felt sorry for him had she not been so distracted by what he'd just told her. Hands shaking, she stared blindly at her feet while her brain struggled to piece things together.

What did Zoisite want more than anything? The rainbow crystals.

Who was the only person, other than Zoisite, that had them?

Usagi's mind refused to answer the question, refused to connect the dots however close together they seemed to be. She'd asked herself earlier if she was ready for answers and it turned out she wasn't. Nothing had gone as planned, he'd said. An understatement if ever she'd heard one. Flustered by her own racing thoughts, Usagi allowed a flash of irrational anger to loosen her tongue. "Whatever it is you wanted, I hope it was worth all this."

Silence descended and several beats passed before Usagi trusted herself to look up again. Mamoru was ready to meet her gaze when she did, and though she read the silent apology in his eyes, his look of quiet resignation sent a shiver down her spine.

"It's the key to finding out who I am," he said.

If Usagi had been expecting a response, that certainly hadn't been it.

Her brow puckered in a puzzled frown. "Who you are?"

Mamoru gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod before turning his eyes to the glass. "When I was six years old I was in a terrible car accident. Both of my parents were killed instantly. I was the only survivor."

Brutal and unexpected, Mamoru's frank revelation left Usagi breathless. Something about his calm, matter-of-fact delivery made her wonder how many times he'd been forced to tell the tragic tale. A sharp pang of sympathy impelled her to reach for his hand, and when their skin touched a familiar jolt of connection ran through her. His eyes found hers, and before she could second guess herself, his fingers curled around her palm.

"I woke up in the hospital with no memories," Mamoru continued, his voice now thick with repressed emotion. "I had no idea who I was, or who I'd lost. All anyone could tell me was my name and age; useless, meaningless facts on paper. Not long after, I started having recurring dreams of a faceless girl begging me to find the ginzui—"

Usagi's breath hitched and Mamoru's eyes flashed before he let go of her hand. "To find the key to recovering my past," he finished before looking away.

He'd been about to say ginzuishou, Usagi was sure of it. Mamoru knew about the ginzuishou. He knew about the rainbow crystals. Zoisite had brought him here. The deluge of dizzying revelations poured into Usagi's brain with devastating effect, dispersing doubt, dislodging beliefs, and uprooting the fragile reality she held to be true. Seeking refuge from the maelstrom of emotions threatening to drown her, Usagi latched on to sympathy like it was a life raft.

"Mamoru." His name sounded stiff in her ears, laden with all kinds of new meaning. "I'm so sorry, I—" She faltered and bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing herself to focus on his loss and not her own. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been. I don't know what I'd do if I lost everyone I loved, everything I knew in my heart." The aforementioned organ gave a violent lurch inside her chest. "I don't think I could bear it. You must be very strong, Mamoru."

His eyes returned to her face, and it took everything Usagi had not to look away. She could tell by the lift of his eyebrows that her words had surprised him. She was a bit surprised herself; they'd never managed to be civil to one another for this long. Then again, they'd never been caught in a life-threatening situation together either.

Or had they?

"I'm not that strong, Odango. But it's kind of you to say so."

Flustered by his soft reply and eager to hide the blush she felt rushing to her cheeks, Usagi pivoted toward the glass. As her eyes roamed over the city lights another traitorous thought crept into her mind. Maybe, just maybe, Chiba Mamoru wasn't quite as obnoxious as she had initially thought.

Innocuous as it seemed, the idea made her feel foolish and unsettled. Too much had happened in the last hour, too much had shifted—and the day wasn't even over yet. If only someone had warned her this morning, told her what lay in store, she could have rolled over and gone back to sleep. But if Usagi's short tenure as a Senshi had taught her nothing else, it was that the strangest days often came with no warning whatsoever.

And today was nothing if not strange.

The elevator shuddered then came to a grinding halt, knocking Usagi off balance. Steadying herself against the glass, she looked up and asked, "Have we reached the top?" The blinding darkness above their heads suggested they had not.

"I don't think so," came Mamoru's grim reply. A quick glance confirmed that he, too, had his eyes trained on the ominous black void.

Except it wasn't so black now. Usagi could see a spark of light, and as she craned her neck for a better look, the light grew brighter—and warmer. A few more moments was all she needed to realize that this was indeed no ordinary light.

A few more moments and Mamoru's remorseful, "Oh God, Usagi, I'm so sorry I got you into this."

They were in big trouble if Mamoru was using her real name.

A fiery ball of spiralling flame was hurtling toward them at an alarming speed. Its massive size all but guaranteed their imminent doom. In order to have any chance of surviving, Usagi would have to transform. Even so, she would be hard pressed to shield herself, let alone another person, from an assault of this size. With the stakes impossibly high and time running short, Usagi knew what she had to do. Still, she hesitated. Doing this meant she would be revealing her most guarded secret.

A secret that would be meaningless if she let the fireball turn them both to ash.

Raising her hand into the air, she called out the familiar phrase and closed her eyes as the soothing warmth of her transformation enveloped her. Comfort filled her soul as each element of her uniform shimmered into place, cladding her in strength and infusing her with confidence. Deep down, she knew that there was nothing to fear. Revealing this secret would not bring her harm. Mamoru could be trusted.

Usagi couldn't see him through the blinding light of her transformation, but she heard his gasp, sensed his astonishment. A tiny part of her revelled in his surprise. Petty though it might be, Usagi took no small amount of pleasure from being able to show Mamoru that she wasn't as hopeless as he thought; that there was more to her than odangos and low test scores. She was the champion of love and justice, Sailor Moon.

She only hoped that would be enough to help them survive the next few minutes.

As soon as the transformation ended, instinct kicked in. Usagi—now Sailor Moon—wasted no time dashing to Mamoru's side. Taking advantage of his shocked state, she tackled him to the floor before throwing herself on top of him. Their disparity in size made it impossible for her to shield him completely, but what Usagi lacked in stature she more than made up for in tenacity. When Mamoru tried to struggle, she wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life.

Sweat beaded her brow as the blistering heat of the approaching flames warmed her back. She'd never withstood a blow this intense. In situations like these Tuxedo Kamen usually swooped in to save her in the nick of time. Where was he now when she needed him? A small voice in the back of her mind whispered truths she didn't want to hear, but Usagi ignored them. Mamoru strained against her, yelled at her to stop shielding him, to save herself. Usagi fought hard to keep him beneath her, but she wasn't listening to him either.

She was praying.

To whom, she didn't know. She was simply following instinct; an instinct borne of fear, of desperation…and of hope. She prayed for strength, for courage, for the power to save Mamoru, and to save herself. A warm light answered from within, filling her soul and bursting forth from every pore of her being. Blinded by its radiance, Usagi squeezed her eyelids shut and pressed her face against Mamoru's broad back. Next she knew, there was no more flame, no more heat.

It was just…gone.

She opened her eyes one at a time then raised her head to look around. She was still in the elevator, Mamoru was still beneath her—quite literally still as he'd finally stopped struggling. She blinked. They were alive. But how?

Dazed as she was, Usagi was understandably startled when Mamoru broke free of her relaxed hold. Seizing her by the arms before she could tumble back, he surged to his feet, pulling her up with him. His long fingers gripped the bare flesh of her upper arms with near-bruising force, but when she opened her mouth to complain the look on his face silenced her. Mouth agape, blue eyes a furious mixture of shock and censure, Mamoru stared down at her with such unguarded intensity that Usagi could not bear to hold his gaze.

"What did you do?"

That was indeed the million dollar question. Usagi didn't have the first clue how to answer it, nor did she have the time to waste trying. There was a murderous Dark General waiting above, and Usagi had no intention of waiting around for the next barbecue. She needed to get out of this elevator shaft as fast as possible, and she had no choice but to bring Mamoru with her. Whatever danger waited above, he would be a sitting duck if she left him here.

A cursory glance at the dark chasm above ruled out the possibility of jumping. With Mamoru in tow and no view of the top, Usagi had little hope of success. Climbing was another option, but it would take valuable time, and there was the issue of Mamoru's injured shoulder to consider. Her eyes drifted back to his face. Though his expression had softened somewhat, his piercing gaze still unnerved her. When she tried to turn away, Mamoru's vice-like grip held her anchored in place. Raising her hands, she laid them upon his forearms in an awkward gesture. The contact made him flinch.

"I'm not sure how to get us out of here," she admitted in a small, rueful voice.

"Usagi."

He said her name on an exhale, lending it the resonance of a sigh, and a soft flutter of warmth rippled through Usagi's belly. Before she had time to understand it, Mamoru pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, eliciting a startled squeak from her lips. The fluttering ceased as her stomach clenched before surging up into her throat. A chaotic rhythm pounded against her ribcage, and she went stiff, terrified that Mamoru would feel her frantic heartbeat.

"Don't ever do that again." Desperate and emphatic, his words were not a command, but a plea.

Overwhelmed by the cavalcade of sensations coursing through her body, Usagi seized upon his words and forced an awkward laugh. "I'm not sure I could, even if I wanted to." When his arms tightened around her, she panicked and added, "Which I don't."

Her mind was whirling, her heart was racing, her skin was tingling. She couldn't think straight. Mamoru was holding her and suddenly it felt like all of the oxygen had gone out of her lungs. She needed space. She needed air. She needed to get out of this elevator. But how?

Without warning, the warmth rose within her again, less intense than before. Mamoru stiffened as it spilled out of her and washed over him as well. His embrace tightened for an instant before the ground dropped out from under them.

Then, just as quick, it was back beneath their feet. The air felt cooler. A clicking of footsteps sounded from behind. Without thinking, Usagi swivelled, pushing Mamoru's arms away in the process. The tight quarters of the elevator were gone, replaced by a dark, expansive chamber.

A dozen paces away, Zoisite stood with his back to them. "I'll have to tell Queen Beryl that Chiba Mamoru perished in an accident," he gloated to himself, filling the silence with his low, evil laughter.

Usagi saw red. "That was no accident, Zoisite! We all know that!"

Zoisite turned, and the look of astonishment on his face brought a smile of satisfaction to Usagi's lips. "Your queen would be a fool to believe a rat like you," she said before assuming one of her trademark poses. "I'm going to make sure that no one ever has to hear your lies again! Face your punishment, Zoisite!"

Zoisite's surprise faded much too fast for Usagi's liking, and a knot of dread formed in her gut when his mouth twisted in a menacing smirk. "Well if it isn't my lucky day; Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen. Today I kill two birds with one stone."

"Tuxedo Kamen isn't here, Zoisite," Usagi replied without blinking. "Today you deal with me." It wasn't until she said the words out loud that she knew them to be false. Zoisite's gaze shifted past her, and Usagi's heart sank as quiet words reached her ears.

"Sorry, Sailor Moon, this isn't your battle."

She knew his voice; she heard it all the time. Only now it was multiplied. Calling out to her not just in battle, but on the street as well. Offering words of encouragement and praise, but also of derision and scorn. She knew his face too; she saw it every day. Only now it was exposed. Staring down at her not just from behind a mask, but from blue eyes as well. Flashing swoon-inducing smiles, but also shame-inducing sneers.

Usagi turned her head inch-by-inch, delaying the reveal of a truth she wasn't yet ready to acknowledge. Meeting her gaze head-on, Mamoru offered her a crooked smile and an apologetic shrug before reaching into his navy blazer and pulling out a single red rose. The scarlet blossom shimmered gold and transformed him before her very eyes. From a boy she'd resented and had only just begun to know, into the shining hero of her dreams.

Chiba Mamoru was Tuxedo Kamen.

Strange, she'd thought. What a strange day. Strange didn't even begin to cover it.

When he stepped forward clad in the familiar tuxedo, cape, hat, and mask, Usagi very nearly demanded that he take it off. Then, realizing how that would sound, she snapped her mouth shut and forced herself to focus on what was most important. Zoisite was waiting, and Tuxedo Kamen—she couldn't think of him as Mamoru right now—was injured.

Usagi would have to face this fight on her own. The Senshi couldn't help her; they had no idea where she was. Why? Because she hadn't shown up for the meeting. She hadn't even called. She'd just decided to follow Mamoru on a whim. A careless, irresponsible, idiotic whim. If Rei were here right now, she would be furious.

If Rei were here right now, she would tell Usagi to focus.

Turning her back on Tuxedo Kamen, Usagi rounded on Zoisite, who looked on with amusement. Clenching a fist, Usagi issued a curt order over her shoulder. "Stay back, I'll take care of this."

Tuxedo Kamen strode toward her and shook his head. "No, Sailor Moon. I told you, this isn't your fight." Reaching her side, he placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "You've done enough for today."

Spotting a flash of blue behind the translucent windows of his mask, Usagi gave a brief thought to how blind she'd been before shrugging his hand off. "Listen to me," she said, "you're injured, you're not strong enough. I can do this."

Tuxedo Kamen's mouth flattened in a firm line. "Not by yourself, you can't."

Anger clouded her vision, erasing the hero and leaving the boy. Resisting the urge to snatch the top hat from his head and whack him with it, Usagi pointed a finger at Mamoru's chest. "You're not talking to 'Odango' right now," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You're talking to Sailor Moon."

His brows rose for a moment before dropping low behind his mask. "You think I don't know that?" he replied with equal heat. "You're a child. You shouldn't be within a hundred miles of a battle. You belong safe at home, not here."

In a fitting coda to a childish fantasy, Usagi's would-be fairytale came to an abrupt end in three short sentences. At long last she had the answer to a question that had burned in her mind ever since that fateful night when they'd first met: what would Tuxedo Kamen say if he discovered Sailor Moon was really just Tsukino Usagi?

He'd call her a child. Tell her she didn't belong. Not here. Not with him.

It was nothing at all what she'd hoped for—and everything she'd feared. Reeling from the sharp sting of his rejection, she fell back a step, then another. When Tuxedo Kamen stepped in front of her, Usagi stared at the broad expanse of his back and felt as though a piece of her heart had withered and died.

Zoisite's insolent voice broke the silence. "As diverting as this little exchange has been, it's time we settled things, Tuxedo Kamen."

Usagi cringed and gave her head a shake. She'd been so focused on her argument with Tuxedo Kamen—a first she could have done without—that she'd nearly forgotten about the enemy standing ten feet away from her. What kind of Senshi was she?

"I need your word, Zoisite, that no harm will come to Sailor Moon," Tuxedo Kamen demanded.

Zoisite smirked. "I'm all for a fair fight."

Balking at their exchange and refusing to be sidelined, Usagi marched forward to have her say. "Don't bargain for me," she snapped at Tuxedo Kamen. "And don't trust a word he says," she added, pointing at Zoisite, "he's nothing but a liar."

Without a word, Tuxedo Kamen took Usagi by the shoulders and steered her back behind him. When she opened her mouth to protest, he raised a single gloved hand to silence her. "Just once today, will you listen to me? Look at where your stubbornness has gotten you." Usagi's mouth snapped shut. He shot her one last quelling look before turning back to Zoisite.

Stunned at first by his brusque treatment, Usagi's shock quickly turned to resentment as she replayed his words. Look at where her stubbornness had gotten her? If she hadn't followed him, he'd probably be a pile of ash by now. How about showing a little gratitude? A little respect? Instead, he'd scolded her like a child. Typical Mamoru. How had she ever been fooled by that flimsy mask? It was all so obvious now. The arrogant strut, the cavalier smirk, the know-it-all speeches, the shouted warnings—

Wait, what? Shouted warnings?

Everything happened at once. Usagi's head shot up. She caught a glimpse of Zoisite's cruel smirk in the distance before a whirl of black satin obscured her view. Tuxedo Kamen was leaping toward her. She opened her mouth in question, but a gentle whistle in the air perked her ears, compelled her to turn, seek out its source. Sensing the danger before she saw it, Usagi began to pivot and—as it always did in moments such as these—time slowed to a crawl.

Why was that?

What sense did it make, to linger in horror? Why not joy instead? Usagi could think of dozens, hundreds—maybe even thousands—of moments she would much rather savour than this one. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Luna's warm form curled up by her feet on a cool night. Ami laughing with delight. Rei bestowing rare words of praise. Makoto sharing one of her delicious lunches. Her father's smile, her mother's comforting embrace. Even the odd game of Sailor V with Shingo.

Those were the moments Usagi wanted to prolong. Those were the moments she wanted to last forever.

Instead, she was forced to endure the slow, agonizing approach of her own demise.

Dark as night, the instrument of doom sped through the air like a stealth missile. Had it not been for the menacing glint of its spear-like tip, Usagi might never have noticed the crystal shard hurtling toward her. Gripped by a sense of morbid fascination, she tracked its progress, wasting precious instants gauging its distance, speed, angle, only to confirm what she already knew. Death had her in the crosshairs once again, and this time it had no intention of missing. There was no time to move, to scream, to pray; no time for anything really, apart from a few final thoughts.

She hoped it didn't hurt too much. She hoped it was quick.

Hands seized her by the waist, snatching her from death's clutches. The world spun in a blur of darkness before she was tossed unceremoniously to the floor. A harsh, squelching sound—a sound Usagi was certain she would never forget—filled her ears as she landed hard on knees and elbows. She ignored the rush of pain in her haste to turn, to see, to understand what had happened. Whipping her head up, Usagi stared into the opaque windows of a white domino mask and felt not relief, but horror.

She was alive. She was unharmed. But at what cost?

Tuxedo Kamen let out a low hiss as Usagi's wide-eyed gaze dropped to the large shard of black quartz embedded in his abdomen. Her heart dropped as he doubled over, curling into himself as though trying to absorb some of the shock. Then, drawing up to his full height, he threw his head back and released a deep, shuddering gasp. His top hat and mask fell away, laying bare his anguish.

Usagi was ready for him when he fell, surging to her feet as he staggered forward. Catching him under the arms with as much care as she could manage, she tried to steady him but her knees wobbled under the heavy load of his dead weight. Using what strength she had to slow his descent, Usagi slumped to the floor with him. As she struggled to settle him on her lap the crystal shard shimmered and disappeared.

The damage it had wrought did not.

Fresh blood seeped from the wound, blooming scarlet across the crisp white linen of his shirtfront. Powerless to heal him, the only thing she could think to do was try to stop the bleeding. Frantic, she tugged at her gloves, peeling them from her arms and pressing them against his abdomen. Small and thin as they were, the gloves were saturated in seconds and still the blood continued to flow. It wasn't enough, but what else could she use?

Usagi ripped at her skirt next and cursed when all she managed to tear off was a tiny strip of blue fabric. The skimpy fuku was useless; what good was a mini skirt to anyone? Desperate, she reached for the brooch on her chest. Shedding her transformation would bring back her civilian clothes. Her school uniform had way more fabric.

Tuxedo Kamen's hand closed around hers and, weakened though he was, he pulled her fingers away from the brooch. Usagi stared down at him with frantic eyes as he shook his head. "Stay focused," he warned her, straining to form the words. "Zoisite is still a threat."

Usagi choked on an absurd laugh that sounded more like a sob. He was worried about her.

"What did you do?"

The words—his words—slipped past her lips in a horrified whisper.

"You're safe, that's all that matters," Tuxedo Kamen said before his chest shuddered in a violent cough. A trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Gutted by the sight, Usagi gripped his hand. "You're safe, Odango." The last was a mere whisper, then his hand went limp in hers, and his eyes fell shut as his head lolled to the side.

Usagi's mouth opened and closed but no words came out. There were no words, she had no words, she knew no words. This was her fault. She had caused this. Why wasn't she faster, stronger, smarter? Why hadn't she stayed focused?

Why hadn't she… Why hadn't he… Why had he done this?

And now, how could she undo it? Where was that magical warmth from before? She needed it now. She needed to fix this; to make it right. She didn't need tiaras or wands, she needed power. She needed…the ginzuishou.

Usagi closed her eyes in prayer, felt a tear roll down her cheek, sensed the flash, embraced the warmth…

…and succumbed to the hands of fate.


As always, thank you for reading!

This is one of my all time favourite episodes. So much drama, so much suspense, and one heck of an ending! I still remember watching it for the first time as a kid and being totally amazed. I always wondered what Usagi and Mamoru were thinking and feeling during this iconic identity reveal, and I'm of the mind that it was a very complicated moment for the both of them.

Feedback of any kind is humbly encouraged and greatly appreciated.