Chikara Ikuhara stepped out of his dilapidated Tokyo apartment building and into the darkness of the night. He shivered despite the mild spring air. A deep-seated chill had settled in his bones. His fever was rising.

He cursed under his breath. Age was catching up with him. His medicine cabinet was bare; he'd forgotten to keep it stocked. Now he had to drag his old, sick body out into the night to buy some fever reducer at a nearby convenience store.

Ikuhara ran a hand through his graying hair. He coughed into his hand, then shoved it into his jacket pocket. He'd chosen a life of solitude, and he didn't regret it. Not really. Still, in moments like this, when his body felt weak, he could almost see the appeal of having someone around, someone to take care of him.

A sudden series of loud bangs caught his attention. Fits of high-pitched laughter punctuated the bangs. He tensed, but despite his age, he remained unafraid. The neighborhood was less than savory, but it was his neighborhood.

Ikuhara crossed the street and followed the noise to its source. It didn't take long to find. A group of seven teenage girls wearing school uniforms had surrounded a car parked at a nearby curb. The sound of their baseball bats bouncing off the vehicle echoed through the night.

Ikuhara squinted. He recognized the car. It belonged to Kenzo Tasaki, the local school principal. An ordinary man would have backed away and called the police. Ikuhara, however, wasn't ordinary. He preferred a quiet solitude. This disruption was unacceptable.

He called out in a firm, but raspy, voice.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

The girls froze. One by one, they turned to face him. A tall girl, the oldest, with hair dyed a bright red, signaled the others with a low whistle as she sized him up.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

She winked at Ikuhara with a grin, then turned and dashed down the sidewalk. The others followed her without hesitation.

Old, feverish Ikuhara made his second questionable decision of the night: he gave chase.

Ikuhara kept in excellent shape. Despite his age, he struggled to let go of his athletic past. Toned muscles pulled taut under his skin as he ran after the girls. His breath came in shallow bursts as he closed the gap.

The last girl in the pack glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with him through her wild, brown hair.

"Crazy old man's chasing us!"

The red-haired leader of the group veered right and into a narrow alleyway. Her underlings followed without missing a beat. Ikuhara was close behind. His chest heaved as his breath turned ragged. The fever was making this pursuit difficult.

The alley was tight. Ikuhara could have stood in the center and touched both sides with outstretched arms. To his right was a solid gray wall, the cracked foundation of another apartment building. To his left was a high fence made of dark wooden slats that sat atop three rows of cinder blocks.

The girl in the rear glanced back at him once more, her eyes wide. She struggled to keep up with her peers. He could see the sweat bead on her forehead.

The lead girl gave another low whistle. She dropped her baseball bat, hopped onto the cinder blocks and climbed the wooden fence. Her friends followed.

Ikuhara's gaze flicked back to the last girl in the group. She struggled with the fence. Her long skirt tangled around her legs as she tried to hoist herself over the top. The others had already dropped down on the other side and disappeared into the shadows.

Her voice trembled as she called out to them.

"I need some help here!"

The leader paused, then peered at the other girl through the slats. Her red hair seemed to glow even in the dim light. She shrugged with an indifferent smirk.

"Too bad. So sad," she said.

Then she turned and ran off into the night.

The girl hanging from the fence groaned.

"Kaori!"

Ikuhara's arms wrapped around the girl, and he pulled her down from the fence. She squirmed and kicked, but he held her firm and lowered her to the ground. She twisted to face him, her eyes wild like those of a cornered animal. He released her.

Ikuhara cleared his throat and tried to catch his breath. He could feel the fever burn in his veins. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

"You and your friends gave me quite a chase," he said.

She didn't answer. Her eyes narrowed.

"What's your name, girl?"

Silence. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes darted around, looking for any potential escape.

"You can talk to me or you can talk to the police," he said. "Your choice."

Her eyes flashed at the mention of the police. Her hands clenched into fists.

Oh, girl, don't do that.

She lunged at him, fists swinging. The first punch missed; he sidestepped it with minimal effort. He watched her wind up for another punch as she shook her long brown hair out of her face. She swung again, and again she missed. The third punch came faster, with a desperate edge. His hand snapped up to intercept and block it.

Her eyes widened. She ran a hand through her unkempt hair, shifting it out of her eyes.

"You have no idea who I am, do you, girl?" he said, his voice steady, but with an unmistakable edge.

She didn't respond. Instead, she took one last shot at him. Her long brown hair swung as she charged forward. Ikuhara sidestepped her with the grace of a much younger man. The girl's fist slammed into the long, gray wall instead of his face. The sharp crack of bone against concrete echoed through the alley.

She cried out in pain and cradled her hand. Ikuhara watched her, muscles tense, ready for another attack.

"That's enough," he said. "I may be old, but I can still fight. I was a professional boxer in my youth, and you're just an angry little girl."

She sank to her knees. Her breath came in ragged bursts as she leaned against the wall.

"If you want to fight somebody, tie back that hair of yours," he said. "It gets in the way an awful lot."

She said nothing. Instead, she inspected her hand as silent tears streamed down her face.

Ikuhara studied her. She was tall and lean, but looked far younger than he'd first thought. The other girls had looked like they were in their late teens, but this one? She couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen. Her brown hair was long and wild, but her brown eyes were too serious for somebody so young.

Her school uniform was messy, the skirt too long, and the sleeves rolled up. He'd seen this kind of thing before, a long time ago.

He hunkered down to meet her eye to eye.

"Are you girls some kind of sukeban wannabes?"

She remained quiet. Her eyes flicked to the ground to avoid his gaze.

"Look, those girls left you behind," he said. "You owe them no loyalty. You want to avoid the police? Talk to me."

Her eyes locked with his. He sensed a lot of pain in her. Pain and loneliness. After a long moment, she spoke in a low, quiet voice.

"Kaori read about them in a book. She thinks they're cool."

He scoffed. Those girl gangs of yesteryear had faded into history a long time ago. He remembered them well. They had been a nuisance more than anything.

"And everybody does what Kaori says?"

She nodded.

"Was it Kaori's idea to vandalize Mr. Tasaki's car?"

She nodded once more. Ikuhara rubbed the stubble on his chin as he considered his options.

"We can keep the police out of this," he said. "Let's just call your parents and get you home."

Her pupils grew large, and she looked away. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs. At last, Ikuhara understood.

"How long have they been dead?"

Her body trembled.

"Three months."

The words hung in the air for a long moment.

"How?"

She wiped her nose and sniffled.

"Plane crash."

Ikuhara could feel his heart soften.

"Where are you staying now?"

She didn't answer. The silence felt heavy between them.

"Any relatives?"

She shook her head.

She ran away from the orphanage, then.

Ikuhara sighed as his chest tightened. She needed help, but not the kind the system would give her. The police would scare her off. An orphanage? She'd run from it again in a heartbeat.

Ikuhara had one more questionable decision left in him.

"I'm not taking you in," he said. "I don't want to be your new family, but… I'll teach you how to take care of yourself, get an apartment, and go back to school."

She looked at him. Her wary gaze was skeptical as she weighed his offer.

"No police? No orphanage?"

He nodded.

"That's right. And no more Kaori."

She considered this. After a long moment, she nodded.

"Okay."

He coughed into his hand once more. His fever was getting worse, but right now, he had to take care of the girl. The medicine could wait.

"What's your name, little girl?"

She looked up at him and, for the first time since they had met, he saw something other than anger or sadness in her eyes. It was hope.

"Makoto Kino."

Rei stood at the entrance of Hikawa Shrine and soaked up the stillness. Dark clouds gathered overhead. The gentle sound of her old broom's bristles against the stone floor filled the air. Otherwise, it was silent. A cool fall breeze swept across her traditional miko clothing and billowed her long, dark hair, but she paid it no mind. At last, she had time to think.

Her regular shrine duties comforted her, even in these turbulent times. This morning, however, her mind was elsewhere. She should be studying for her priesthood exam, not sweeping. Still, she saw to her duties with practiced ease and graceful movements.

Her thoughts drifted to her friends, as they did so often in recent days. Makoto's near-death experience still haunted them all. Although Makoto's body had healed, Rei was afraid she'd carry much deeper scars for a long time. Rei could feel Makoto's anger and frustration simmer beneath the surface whenever their eyes met.

Then there was Minako. Her heart fluttered when she thought of her fellow Guardian. For so long, their connection had been a comfort to both of them, a refuge from their loneliness. Now, however, everything was different.

Chibiusa had revealed the shocking truth: in the future, Rei and Minako were married. To each other. Rei felt the heat rise in her face. She had felt a pull toward Minako from the start, although she'd been reluctant to admit it. But love? Marriage? It was too much.

The sound of a throat clearing cut through her thoughts. Rei looked up and there stood Minako. As usual, she was the picture of fashion: short skirt, high boots and a brown leather jacket. Her brown hair waved in the gentle breeze. A red gym bag hung over her shoulder. Her bright presence was a stark contrast to the gloom of the fall morning.

"Hi," Minako said.

Rei felt her pulse quicken. Her mouth went dry; her palms began to sweat.

"Hi."

How did Minako's presence leave her both exhilarated and terrified?

Minako shuffled her feet.

"I know you don't want to talk about us, but we do need to talk."

Rei set aside the broom.

"Alright."

Minako nodded. A steely gaze replaced the softness in her eyes. Rei realized she wasn't speaking to Minako Aino now. Not really. This was her leader. This was Sailor Venus.

"Makoto almost died. Ami is still in danger. The Black Moon is coming for our princess. We have to do something."

Rei met her gaze. She could feel resolve steel her own features.

"What do you have in mind?"

Minako patted the gym bag and gave Rei a small, wistful smile.

"We work together."

Rei swallowed hard. She could work with Minako. When the moment came, they'd even stand together in battle.

She still had no clue how to navigate the gravitational pull that kept drawing her toward her future wife.

Makoto wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her boxing glove. Her eyes locked onto the heavy bag swaying in front of her. She pivoted onto the balls of her feet to dodge an imaginary attack, her movements a picture of grace.

Then she went onto the attack. Her fists struck the old, lumpy bag in a steady rhythm, just like the old man had taught her all those years ago: jab, jab, cross. The bag swung under her assault.

Makoto's ponytail, damp with sweat, swayed with each motion. Her breaths came at an even and deliberate pace. On the outside, she was the picture of a calm and collected fighter. On the inside, however, a storm raged.

She gritted her teeth and tried to suppress the heat that bubbled at her core like magma in a volcano. Crimson Rubeus had hurt her. Then he had sent Berthier to finish the job.

She had been defeated.

Jab!

Hunted.

Jab!

Almost killed.

Cross!

The bag bounced back and forth as it spun on its chain. A sudden sharp pain in her side doubled Makoto over. She wrapped an arm around her abdomen, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Ami had reawakened as Sailor Mercury and used a healing power to mend Makoto's broken body. Although Ami had assured Makoto that she was fine now, she sometimes still experienced pain. After a moment, it usually passed.

She took another deep breath. The air in the gym reeked of sweat and leather. The rhythmic sound of gloves striking heavy bags echoed off the walls. There was some chatter, too, and the grunts of boxers sparring in the small ring at the center of the gym. She tuned out the noise and focused on her breathing. The pain faded.

"Makoto Kino!"

The old, frail voice somehow carried across the busy gym. She ignored it. Instead, she straightened and redoubled her efforts against the heavy bag.

Jab. Jab. Cross.

The thuds of her fists pounding the bag joined the chorus of sounds echoing through the gym. Between blows, she could hear the gentle tapping of a cane as it met the old concrete floor again and again. With each tap, the sound grew louder. Her punches slowed as the old man drew near.

Without warning, a cane whacked the heavy bag in front of Makoto hard enough to send it spinning away from her. The aged, frail voice spoke once more.

"I know you heard me, little girl."

Makoto turned to face Ikuhara. The last six years had aged him. His hair had turned a solid white; deep wrinkles criss-crossed his face like canyons. His eyes were weary.

"What do you want, old man?" Makoto towered over Ikuhara's hunched form.

He looked up at her and scoffed.

"You came to my gym. What do you want?"

Makoto hesitated. Her voice took on a hard edge.

"What, you care now what I want?"

Ikuhara's eyes searched hers. He sighed.

"Makoto…"

She raised a gloved hand.

"Don't start!"

She turned her attention back to the heavy bag. His cane whacked it out of her reach once more.

"We're not finished here, little girl."

She turned back toward Ikuhara and fought the urge to punch his saggy visage.

"What?!"

Ikuhara straightened somewhat. His eyes flashed.

"Don't direct your anger at me, Makoto," he said. "I did what I could for you after you ran away from the orphanage, taught you what you needed..."

"I needed a father!" her voice boomed.

They both fell silent. After a moment, Ikuhara cleared his throat.

"I told you from the start that I wasn't a family man," he said. "Besides, you made your way. You told me yourself that you found a family, that you never wanted to see me again. So, why are you here?"

Makoto rubbed her neck with a gloved hand.

"Somebody… hurt me. I was in the hospital."

Ikuhara's eyes narrowed.

"Hurt you, how?"

Makoto looked away. It bothered her that after all this time, she still folded under his gaze.

"He beat me. With his bare hands."

"I see," he said. "So, you came here to hit something? To release your anger? To train?"

Makoto sighed.

"I don't know."

Ikuhara reached out to her with his free hand, hesitated, then let it drop back to his side. Instead, he pointed his cane at the small boxing ring at the center of the gym.

"Maybe you need a good sparring match."

She laughed despite herself.

"Against you?"

Ikuhara's laughter joined hers.

"Don't underestimate me, girl," he said. "But no. Akio over there has some skill. He may pose a challenge even to you."

Makoto glanced at Akio, who had just finished a sparring round with another boxer. He had the toned physique of a featherweight. A shock of bleach blonde hair stood from his head at odd angles; a thin black mustache sat above his lip like a bit of schmutz. He touched gloves with his opponent and flashed a charming smile. There was an unusual warmth to him.

"A charmer. Will he even hit a girl?"

Ikuhara snorted.

"Don't let that handsome smile fool you. He's got the goods."

Makoto nodded. If she could put this upstart in his place, maybe it would help her regain some of her lost confidence.

Ikuhara led her to the ring.

"Hey, Akio!" he called out. "Got time for another match?"

Makoto rolled in under the ropes and walked back and forth in the ring. She could feel Akio's eyes on her.

"Sure," he said. "Is she any good?"

Ikuhara snorted.

"You tell me."

Akio bounced on the balls of his feet and gave Makoto an amiable smile. Even under the stark fluorescent lights of the gym, he radiated an effortless charm. She refused to let a handsome face distract her. Their gloves touched in a sign of fair play.

They raised their fists, and the match got underway. Akio feinted left, his movement fluid and quick, then threw a right jab. Makoto read his movements and slid sideways out of his reach. She threw a counter jab. He tried to dodge her attack, but she grazed his cheek.

He grinned at her.

"Those are some long arms you've got there," he said.

Makoto said nothing. She waved a gloved hand, beckoning Akio to attack. He seemed all too glad to accommodate her.

His strikes came faster and sharper now, but Makoto was unrelenting and focused. She weaved between his punches with precision and countered. Each counterpunch drove him back, step by step.

Akio threw a hook that left his side exposed. Makoto lunged for the opening. She realized too late it had been another feint. His glove connected with her jaw. She staggered backward.

Akio seemed surprised he had tagged her so hard.

"You alright?"

Makoto saw red. Red like Kaori's hair. Red like the scarf around Crimson Rubeus' neck. The heat at her core bubbled to the surface and threatened to suffocate her senses. The volcano erupted at last.

Akio had no time to react. She came at him with a ferocity that was neither measured nor precise. Her punches rained down on him like thunder. A jab to his chest sent him sprawling to the mat. The air escaped his lungs with a loud gasp.

Makoto dropped to her knees, straddled Akio and rained her fists down on him. He raised his own gloved hands to protect his face, but the sheer force of her onslaught overwhelmed him.

She felt familiar hands close around her and pull her off Akio. She struggled against the sudden restraint and broke free. Without thinking, she turned and swung her fist.

There was a loud thud, and the gym fell into eerie silence. Makoto's mind cleared. She saw Ikuhara sitting in the ring, nursing a bloody nose.

She glanced over at Akio, who groaned as he pushed himself up off the mat. His lip had split open and blood trickled down his chin. His eyes were wide.

"What is your deal?"

She looked back at Ikuhara. He stared at her with wide eyes as well.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

She dropped to the mat and rolled out of the ring. Ikuhara called after her, but she paid him no mind. She had to get away from him. She had to get away from everybody.

The fire crackled and popped in Rei's private meditation chamber. Flickering lights danced along the wooden walls. Long shadows stretched across the floor. A hushed sanctity had settled over the room.

Rei knelt in front of the flames, her hands resting on her thighs, her eyes closed in concentration. She inhaled the warm, smoky aroma of burning wood. The Lunar Blade, positioned between her and the flames, reflected the light from the fire. It almost seemed to glow.

The Moon Kingdom's power had surged through the sword one year earlier. It had restored the powers of the Sailor Guardians just long enough to deal with a crisis. Now, it was cold and unresponsive, a relic from a bygone age.

Rei reached out with her spiritual senses and searched for a spark of that power. She sensed nothing.

She tried again, pushed harder. Instead of the sword's dormant power, she sensed something even more striking: Minako. Her fellow Guardian knelt beside her, close enough that Rei could smell the faint scent of her perfume.

The heat from the fire was trivial compared to the warmth spreading through Rei's chest. She focused on the rhythm of Minako's soft, steady breaths. It was soothing. Hypnotic. Tempting.

She clenched her fists and tried to push the distraction aside. It was no use. Minako's presence filled her senses, both physical and spiritual. She was a radiant lighthouse on a dark, fog-covered night.

Without thinking, Rei moved one hand from her thigh and let it rest on Minako's hand. She felt Minako twitch in surprise. Then her fingers responded and curled around Rei's. The touch was soft and reassuring.

Rei swallowed hard. She had been fighting this attraction for what felt like an eternity, buried her feelings, ignored her instincts. She was so tired of holding back.

Rei leaned her head on Minako's shoulder, her eyes still closed. She felt Minako turn to look at her; gentle breaths caressed Rei's cheek. The closeness was intoxicating.

Rei opened her eyes and gazed up at Minako. The light of the fire danced across her brown hair. Her face seemed to glow.

Rei lifted her head and closed the space between them. Her cheek brushed against Minako's. The touch sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the heat of Minako's skin, could hear her breaths pick up their pace.

Their faces were so close now, their lips mere inches apart. She could sense that Minako was waiting, her hand still holding Rei's.

She hesitated. Why? She didn't know. She cared about Minako. Why was it so hard to take the next step?

They sat there for a while, frozen in time. Then Minako raised her hand to Rei's face and caressed her cheek as if to encourage her.

"Rei…," she whispered.

Rei felt the hair on her arms lift. A sudden weight dropped into the pit of her stomach. She pulled away.

"I can't," she said in a faint, hoarse whisper.

Minako released a heavy sigh.

"I don't understand. You started this."

Rei nodded. Her throat felt dry.

"I know."

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Minako's hand slipped from Rei's. The loss felt like a physical blow. Then, without warning, Minako stood.

"You know what? That's not good enough. I deserve an explanation."

Rei stared at the crackling fire and said nothing.

Minako shook her head as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"How can you treat me like this, after all we've been through together? Don't you care at all?"

Rei closed her eyes.

"Of course I do."

Minako's voice broke.

"Then what is this between us? If you care, then why…"

Rei shot to her feet and stood face to face with Minako, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Because love is a lie, Mina!"

Minako's eyes widened.

"What?"

Rei's jaw tightened.

"You heard me. Love, romantic love, is a lie."

Minako's eyes narrowed.

"Why would you say a thing like that?"

Rei's eyes burned as tears collected in their corners. She ignored them.

"Why wouldn't I?" she said. "My father swore he loved my mother. Where did that leave her when she was dying? Alone."

Minako grew quiet. Her expression softened, but her voice was firm when she spoke.

"I'm not like your father."

Rei shook her head. Her voice trembled.

"But I might be," she said.

Minako recoiled as if Rei had slapped her across the face.

"What about the future? The destiny Chibiusa told us about? Our marriage?"

A sharp pang of fear gripped Rei's chest. She lashed out before she could stop herself.

"I refuse to let a thing like destiny tell me how to live my life!"

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Minako's face twitched. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She took a shaky breath. Then her face hardened.

"Keep the sword," she said in a flat voice. "Maybe you can get it to work. Obviously, my path lies elsewhere."

She took the empty red duffle bag. Then, without another word, Minako turned and walked out of the room, her head held high. Rei stood frozen. Her limbs felt heavy. She wiped a hand over her face, then stared at the space where Minako had stood.

"Mina… I'm sorry…"

The apartment door stood ajar. Motoki gave it a push, and it swung open with a creak. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned around the doorframe and glanced inside.

He'd been downstairs in the flower shop, selling Makoto's prearranged bouquets and taking orders when he'd heard the loud bang upstairs. Now, an eerie silence filled the apartment. Motoki didn't trust it.

He entered the apartment, his pet turtle Kamekichi clutched in his hand. The little reptile never failed to provide Motoki with comfort and strength.

"We have to be careful, Kamekichi," he whispered. "It could be one of those Black Moon people looking for Makoto."

Motoki's eyes darted around the living room. The space was small, but cozy. Sunlight shone through the open window and illuminated the beige walls. Plush carpet lined the floor. The furniture was sparse: a bookshelf, a coffee table, a couch for two. A small television sat in the corner. The room radiated warmth.

There were no signs of a disturbance. He crept past the couch and toward the bookshelf. The carpet muffled his steps. He sat Kamekichi down next to the phone, then picked up the receiver.

His hands trembled as he dialed Usagi's number. The phone rang once, twice, three times. No answer.

Great.

He thought for a moment, then dialed Ami's number next. If Sailor Moon wasn't available, maybe Sailor Mercury could come to the rescue. It seemed to ring for an eternity. Again, there was no answer.

We need to start answering our phones around here.

He ran his hand over Kamekichi's shell, more for his own comfort than the turtle's.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

His pulse quickened as he dropped to his knees and reached under the couch. His hand closed around the smooth wood of Makoto's old baseball bat. It was a relic from Makoto's past and held some sentimental value. She once had told him she'd swung it a few times in her misspent youth.

Motoki always joked that the bat was his home security system, at least when Makoto wasn't home. Now, as his hands wrapped around the handle and the barrel rested on his shoulder, he thought back on the attack at the hospital and didn't feel like laughing.

The attempt on her life had changed Makoto. She'd become quiet and withdrawn. He could feel the distance between them growing. He tried to talk to her, joke with her, get her to open up, but she always deflected, always pulled away.

That morning, she had left without a word, without telling him where she was going or when she'd be back. Motoki knew she was going through something and he tried to give her space, but… it hurt. He missed her.

Another loud bang shook him from his thoughts. It came from the bedroom.

His breath hitched in his throat. He gestured for Kamekichi to stay put, then raised the bat off his shoulder and crept toward the sound, ready to strike.

Motoki reached the bedroom door and pressed his back against the wall next to the door frame. He held up the bat in front of his face and grimaced. He wasn't a violent person, but he also didn't want anybody to hurt Makoto again. Every muscle in his body was taut.

He took a deep breath, then lunged into the bedroom. He released his tension in a feeble battle cry. Then he froze.

Makoto was kneeling in front of their large closet and tore through its contents with a frantic energy. Shoes and clothes littered the floor like confetti. She had rifled through boxes, then tossed them aside without care.

He lowered the bat.

"Uh, Mako…?"

She glanced over her shoulder for a second, then resumed her search.

"What are you doing with my bat?" she asked in a flat voice.

Motoki blinked. His gaze shifted from Makoto to the bat and back.

"You're making an awful racket," he said. "I thought there was an intruder."

Instead of playfully teasing him, Makoto remained silent. She pulled another box out from the bottom of the closet, removed the lid, and started rummaging through it.

Motoki leaned the baseball bat against the wall and wiped the sweat from his brow. Now that he knew there was no danger, his body felt like a cooked noodle.

"What are you looking for, anyway?"

This time, she didn't even look at him. Her focus remained on the box.

"Something from before we moved in together," she said. "Something from my childhood."

Motoki didn't know how to respond. Makoto's childhood was a bit of a mystery. She talked very little about her parents or the accident that killed them. She never mentioned the years that followed at all. He never pried.

Makoto pulled a small pink phone from the box. A wistful smile played over her lips as she flipped it open and glanced at the heart-shaped screen. He recognized her old Sailor Guardian communicator. She flipped it closed and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans, then continued to dig.

Motoki tried to reach out again, his voice softer than before.

"So, where did you go this morning?"

She seemed to pinch her finger on something inside the box and let out a startled grunt.

"To see an old friend," she said.

His brow furrowed.

"Oh."

Motoki had thought he knew all of Makoto's friends. Before he could press further, she stood with a sudden and graceful movement. Between her fingers, she held an old, rusted key.

"There you are!"

Motoki's stomach dropped, and his eyes widened. He recognized that key.

"You're leaving?"

His voice trembled, and he cursed his soft heart.

Makoto fished a small black duffle bag out of the chaos on the floor. She had packed a bag. She was really leaving.

"For a little while," she said.

His chest tightened.

"You don't want me to come with you, do you?"

She turned away to avoid his gaze.

"No, I don't," she said in a small voice.

He stepped closer and reached out for her. His hand brushed her arm.

"When are you coming home?"

She shrugged off his hand, and a sharp pain struck Motoki's chest.

"I'm not sure," she said.

Motoki knew he should back away, give her space, but he was too worried about her.

"Are you leaving to reclaim your powers?"

"No." She shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Makoto, I…"

The words caught in his throat. What could he say?

"Please, Motoki, just let me go. I need some time."

She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then she was gone. A moment later, the sound of the apartment door closing echoed in the silence.

He stood there for a long moment, frozen, staring into space. Then a thought occurred to him. She didn't want him to come along and he would respect her wishes. He always did. He also knew somebody who would not. For the first time in his life, he was glad he knew a meddler.

He walked back into the living room and picked up the phone. He dialed the number and waited. This time, the answer was immediate. The chaotic energy that greeted him from the other end of the connection was exactly what Makoto needed. Motoki winked at Kamekichi and smiled.

Whatever Makoto was going through, she wouldn't have to face it alone.

Minako stormed into the apartment, long brown hair waving behind her like an angry tail. She slammed the door shut, tore off her boots and stomped across the vast living room with heavy steps. Once in her bedroom, she threw herself onto the bed. A moment later, the muffled sounds of her screams filled the room as she unleashed them into a pillow.

Then the tears came, and she felt ashamed. Years ago, following her terminal illness diagnosis, Minako had retreated into the hard shell of a Sailor Guardian. Her mission had become the only thing that mattered; everything else had faded into the background.

Then Usagi had saved her and given her a second chance at life. Minako had spent the next few years unthawing her icy heart, forging new connections and making a family for herself.

Today, she questioned for the first time if the effort of opening up again had been worthwhile. Rei had hurt her in a way she hadn't thought possible. Her heart lay shattered and she couldn't fit the pieces together again.

As she shifted on the bed, something beneath her made a sound like crumpled paper. Startled, Minako sat up and searched the bed. In the tangle of sheets and pillows, she found a note. Again.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and unfolded the note. The handwriting was the same as the note she'd found the night she returned to Tokyo. At first, she'd suspected the flowing and precise scrawl belonged to Rei. Now she knew that was not the case.

The note was unsigned, of course. It only said: You are as beautiful as ever.

Minako felt her blood boil and her pulse pound in her temple. She crumpled the paper in her fist. Somebody had been in her apartment! In her bedroom! Again!

She stormed out of her bedroom and into one of the small guest rooms. There lay Luna, still in a coma after the attack on Usagi and Mamoru's apartment. The black, plush cat lay still, her breaths shallow. Artemis, her counterpart and Minako's partner, lay next to her on the bed and watched over her. When Minako entered, he looked up, startled. His white fur bristled as he blinked at her.

"Minako?"

They had known each other for a long time. He could sense that something had upset her.

"Any change?" she asked.

Artemis shook his head.

"No. It's like she's sleeping… but she won't wake up."

Minako sat down beside Luna and caressed her dark fur. She could feel the boiling lava at her core cool and harden into something new.

"Then it's time for you and me to have a little talk."

Artemis sat up. His ears flicked.

"I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Minako shook her head. Her brown hair fell into her face. She brushed it behind her ear.

"No, you're not," she said. "It's time for you to leave this room. I need my partner."

Artemis blinked, taken aback.

"Luna needs me."

Minako raised her voice.

"No. I need you. Makoto almost died. Ami might be next. They're coming for our princess. As the leader, it is my job to stop them. As my partner, it is your job to help me."

Artemis fell silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

"You don't have your powers, Mina. What can we do?"

Minako leaned down to Artemis and met his gaze.

"I have an idea. It can work, but only if we can recreate a piece of Moon Kingdom technology. You're the expert."

Artemis turned away and stared at Luna for a long moment. Minako noticed for the first time the depth of feeling between the two cats. She'd never considered that they might be more to each other than friends and fellow servants of the Moon Kingdom.

At last, Artemis looked back at Minako.

"Alright," he said. "What's this plan of yours?"

Mamoru returned to Minako's apartment, his mind racing.

Desperate to protect his wife and child, he had reached out to his old friend Zoisite, who had counseled him from beyond the grave. Zoisite had revealed that, as the reincarnated prince of Earth, nature itself would bend to Mamoru's will. He had powers… if only he knew how to access them.

So far, nature had refused to answer his call. Earlier that morning, Usagi had reached out to let him know she and Chibiusa had made plans. He'd taken the opportunity to wander around Arisugawa Memorial Park and connect with nature.

The experience had proven frustrating. He had picked some flowers and breathed in the air, but his connection with the planet did not deepen. Things took an awkward turn when he tried to ask a dogwood tree for help.

Mamoru had hugged the fall-colored tree in desperation when he didn't receive a response. Just then, an old man had wandered by. The look of disdain he had shot Mamoru was one for the record books.

Mamoru shook his head as he imagined the reports of a tree-hugger terrorizing Arisugawa Memorial Park. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he took off his shoes and placed them by the door.

What a failure.

"I've been waiting for you."

The voice startled him out of his self-pity. He glanced around the living room and saw Minako sitting on the couch; her legs crossed, her eyes intense. There was something different about her, something harder. In her hand, she held her pink Sailor Guardian phone.

Artemis sat next to her and regarded Mamoru in silence. His tail flicked back and forth like a pendulum, brushing against Minako's leg.

"Minako," Mamoru said. "What's going on?"

She locked eyes with him.

"My powers have not returned," she said. "As it stands, I don't think they will. Even without powers, I plan to take action. Just like you."

Mamoru wasn't sure how to respond. Minako and he weren't that close.

"Oh?"

Minako stood.

"Artemis and I have a plan," she said. "We're going to draw out and capture our enemy. It's dangerous and we might fail. But… we need your help."

Mamoru's hands clenched into fists. He'd waited for this; a chance to take action, to protect his family. How could he refuse?

"What do you need me to do?"

She smiled.

"Get your tux."

He looked her up and down. With her short brown skirt and brown leather jacket, she looked every bit the pop sensation. If he needed a disguise, the famous singer Minako Aino would need one, too.

He cocked an eyebrow.

"And you?"

She flipped open her Guardian phone and pushed a button with practiced ease. A burst of light enveloped her. When it faded, she stood transformed into Sailor V.

"Even without powers, I still have a trick or two up my sleeve."

Mamoru nodded. Things were about to get interesting.

Makoto ran.

The woods were quiet except for her footfalls as she stomped through the brush. The scents of black pine and damp leaves hung in the air. Light from the low afternoon sun filtered through the sparse canopy of gold, brown, and orange.

She allowed the sights and sounds of the forest to wash away her anger, her fear, her doubts. Her breaths came in controlled bursts even as her pace quickened.

Makoto had hoped returning to the Boso Peninsula after all these years would have a calming, reassuring effect on her. Now, she wasn't so sure. When her parents were alive, she had spent many summers in their small cabin in the woods. Here, they had taught her about the trees, how to fish, and how to cook over an open flame.

She'd never come back after her parents' deaths; the cabin had stood empty for years. Still, she had nothing but fond memories of her time here. It should have been a refuge, a port in the raging storm of her emotional turmoil.

Yet, the molten heat continued to bubble deep in the pit of her stomach. Her defeat at the hands of Rubeus and her helplessness in the face of Berthier's assault had left her reeling.

She took a deep breath and picked up speed. Other runners would have stuck to the narrow, winding path, but not Makoto. Her run took her straight through the forest, through the brush and across fallen branches and rocks. One wrong move, and she would collide with a branch or fall onto the hard forest floor.

Guilt about how she had treated Motoki gnawed at her, but she tried to push it aside, as well. She'd make it up to him. She loved him, but right now, she needed time to be alone, to figure out her next steps.

A loud voice interrupted the solitude of the forest.

"... wearing odango? You're trying to look like me, aren't you?"

Chibiusa?

Makoto's focus shifted away from navigating the forest for a split second, but that was all it took. She tripped on a rock and her body collided with the forest floor. She sprawled out in a mixture of dirt and leaves.

"Mamoru said he missed them. I'll have you know, I wore odango long before you came along, Chibiusa. You're trying to look like me!"

Usagi, too?

Makoto pushed herself up off the ground and knelt on the damp ground. She inspected herself for injuries and brushed the dirt off her arms. A large scrape across her right knee marked where she had hit a branch. Her short brown running shorts had offered no protection. Dirt stained her tight white tank top.

"I have never seen mama wear her hair in odango," Chibiusa said. "I think you're lying, Usagi."

Even from a distance, Makoto could hear Usagi's sharp intake of breath.

"I'm not lying, Chibiusa. You're a tiny version of me, right down to your hair. Chibi Usagi. Little Usagi. See?"

Chibiusa scoffed.

"My name is Chiba Usagi. Chibiusa, for short. I'm not a little anybody; I'm just me."

Makoto stood and finished brushing the dirt and leaves off as best she could.

How did they find me?

She knew there was no sense in hiding from them. They were here looking for her, which could only mean one thing: Motoki had told them where she was.

Makoto stepped out from between two chestnut trees and onto the narrow pathway.

"Hello, girls."

Usagi looked like she was about to jump out of her own skin. Chibiusa fared little better. Their expressions, eyes and mouths wide open, were so comical, Makoto had to fight the urge to grin.

"Mako!" Usagi cried. "Where did you come from?"

Makoto took a moment to consider mother and daughter. Chibiusa wore a red and white striped sweater and denim overalls. Warm and functional. Usagi wore a teal skirt and a white sweater. Not exactly forest clothing. She shook her head.

"I could ask you the same thing. I came here to be alone for a while."

Chibiusa was the first to shake off the initial shock.

"I'm here to fulfill my mission, Aunt Makoto. You're training to get your powers back, aren't you? Well, I'm here to support you!"

Makoto smiled at the little girl.

"Thank you, Chibiusa." She turned her attention to Usagi. "Motoki called you?"

Usagi fidgeted under her intense gaze.

"He did," she said. "He's worried about you."

Makoto took a deep breath.

"It's nice of you to come, but I want to be alone." She crossed her arms. "Please leave."

Chibiusa and Usagi exchanged glances. There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Usagi spoke.

"No."

Makoto felt the heat rise from her belly into her chest. She reminded herself that Usagi was one of her best friends and did her best to push it back down.

"Usagi, I don't want company," she said through gritted teeth. "Leave me alone."

Usagi stepped forward.

"I can't. I don't think you want to be alone right now. Not really." She put a hand on Makoto's arm and looked up at her. "You're hurt and angry and you think you failed me somehow, but you didn't. I failed you."

Makoto's eyes widened.

"What?"

Tears stood in the corners of Usagi's eyes.

"I'm the one with powers. I should have protected you. Instead, I let Rubeus beat me."

Makoto shook her head.

"I am your Guardian, Usagi. It is my duty to protect you, with or without powers."

Usagi blinked.

"That was the old life, Mako. You're so much more than my Guardian now." She hesitated. "You're out here training, aren't you? Let me train with you. Maybe next time, Rubeus won't beat me."

Makoto swallowed hard. She had come out here to be alone, to train and clear her head. Now, one of her best friends, her princess, asked to train with her. She couldn't refuse.

"Okay."

Usagi's face brightened.

"You mean it?"

Makoto gave her a small smile.

"Sure. We'll train together. Let's head back to the cabin."

Chibiusa let out a sound somewhere between a cheer and a gasp.

"We're staying in a cabin in the woods? I've never stayed in a cabin in the woods before!"

They walked down the narrow path together. Makoto shot Usagi a sideways glance, taking in her hairstyle.

"Back to the odango, I see."

Chibiusa snorted.

"She's trying to look like me," she said.

Usagi groaned so loud, a flock of birds took flight and left the noisy forest behind.

"For the last time, Chibiusa, I am not trying to look like you!"

Chibiusa's giggles echoed through the forest. After a moment, Makoto's soft laughter joined in.

"No way."

Artemis' fur bristled at Mamoru's words. Could a plush cat look incredulous? Minako considered Artemis for a moment, then decided he could.

"What do you mean, 'no way'?"

The pitch of Artemis' voice rose into an uncomfortable range. Sailor V sighed. Those two had been bickering ever since they'd set their plan into motion. It was getting on her nerves.

The three of them stood in an alleyway, hidden from view, and glanced across the street at a hotel. Sailor V and Mamoru had flattened against opposite ends of the alley, careful to remain hidden.

The alley was narrow and littered with discarded fast food wrappers and broken bottles. A pungent odor hung in the air. Artemis sat on a nearby trash can. He'd been cleaning himself on and off for the last thirty minutes just to keep the smell out of his fur.

Across the street, near the main entrance of the hotel, stood an attractive man in his early twenties. He wore too-tight white pants, a sheer see-through black shirt, and loafers. He had styled his hair into spikes. Too-large sunglasses balanced on his delicate nose.

Mamoru adjusted the red duffle bag slung over his shoulder and almost dropped Sailor V's pink Guardian phone from his other hand.

"I'm not disguising myself in those clothes," he said. "He looks ridiculous."

Sailor V sighed again, louder this time.

"Mamoru…"

He shook his head.

"There has to be another way," he said, his voice firm.

Artemis chuckled.

"Our entire plan will fail because Mamoru is too scared to disguise himself as a male model."

Mamoru flinched.

"Now, wait a minute…"

Artemis had no intention of relenting.

"Here I thought Tuxedo Mask had no powers," he said. "Turns out, he can transform into a super-chicken!"

Artemis cackled with laughter. Sailor V couldn't help herself; she tried to suppress the small smile that crept over her lips.

Mamoru rolled his eyes and flipped open the Guardian phone. He aimed the camera, then photographed the model across the street. In a flash of light, his clothes and hair transformed to match those of the model.

He turned to present himself to Sailor V and Artemis, pushing his new sunglasses up on his spiked head with a scowl

"Happy now?"

Sailor V stifled a laugh. Mamoru looked ridiculous.

Artemis was a lot less kind. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen the plush cat howl with laughter before. It was quite a sight. Artemis laughed so hard, he almost fell off the trash can.

Mamoru's face grew dark. Red blotches appeared on his cheeks.

"You know, I bet we can find an open-minded veterinarian in Tokyo who's willing to give a plush tomcat an… attitude adjustment."

Artemis' laughter turned into a cough. He cleared his throat.

"Nice job, Mamoru. You look wonderful."

Sailor V grew somber.

"You remember the plan?"

Mamoru nodded.

"Leave it to me."

He looked down at Artemis.

"Are you coming, fuzzball?"

Artemis' tail flicked back and forth.

"I don't know how Luna puts up with you," he said, sullen.

With a graceful leap, he catapulted himself off the trash can and landed on Mamoru's shoulder. There, he laid down and remained still.

Mamoru glanced back at Sailor V one last time.

"Be ready."

She nodded.

Then he crossed the street, the red duffle bag in tow. Mamoru's stiff, formal gait clashed with his flamboyant clothes and the white puff of fur straddling his shoulder. The whole thing struck Sailor V as laughable.

She heard footsteps and ducked deeper into the alleyway. A couple of pedestrians passed by the alley; two women, walking hand in hand. She watched from the shadows as one of them, with raven black hair, leaned over to her partner and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Sailor V's mind wandered to Rei for a moment. She felt her face flush as she gritted her teeth.

Focus on the task at hand, Minako.

It was an odd sensation to wear her Sailor V suit again after all these years. When she first had awakened as a Guardian, she had served as a decoy for the princess, a distraction for the Dark Kingdom. She'd also enjoyed acting as a vigilante on occasion.

Her hand tightened around her Crescent Moon Cutter. The small, bladed weapon would be her only defense now that she was operating without her powers.

She took a deep breath.

Now I wait.

Mamoru strode into the hotel lobby like he owned the place. He glanced at the receptionist behind her large desk, adjusted his red duffle bag, and gave her a nonchalant nod. His eyes darted around behind the oversized sunglasses, but he was careful not to turn his head as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel interior was sleek and modern. Plush, blue carpet covered the floor of the cavernous lobby. Large walkways on the second and third floors lined both sides of the lobby. A massive, golden chandelier hung between the walkways, a statement of opulence that demanded attention.

Mamoru spotted a small, movable sign at the far end of the lobby that read "Osaka Jewelry Show, 6:00 pm". An arrow pointed down a wide hallway. Without breaking his stride, he headed for the sign, then turned down the hallway.

Artemis shifted on his shoulder, an imperceptible movement to the casual observer.

"You seem to know your way around this place," he said with a sarcastic edge.

Mamoru shrugged, causing Artemis to bounce on his shoulder.

"I've never been here before," he said. "If you want to blend in, you just act as if you belong."

Artemis snorted.

"Who would have thought you have some skills as a thief?"

Mamoru's thoughts drifted back to his thieving days. Back then, he had searched for the Silver Crystal in the hope it would restore the memory of his dead parents, of his life before the car accident. Ironically, he never recovered those memories. He had set out to find Mamoru Chiba, but had found Endymion and his past life instead.

"It's not my first time," he said.

Artemis leaned in closer, his whiskers tickling Mamoru's ear.

"Oh, I remember," he whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "Minako kicked your butt on more than one occasion. I cherish those memories."

Mamoru stopped and looked down at Artemis. He raised an eyebrow.

"What is your problem with me?"

Artemis stood up on Mamoru's shoulder, bringing the two eye-to-eye.

"Luna got hurt on your watch."

Mamoru hesitated. Artemis seemed to harbor deeper feelings for Luna than any of them had suspected. Still, he couldn't expect Mamoru, of all people, to bear responsibility for Luna.

He opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance.

"Hey! Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The voice cut through the air with a high-pitched shriek. Artemis collapsed onto Mamoru's shoulder and went limp. Mamoru turned to see a short man barreling toward him, arms flailing. He wore the uniform of a security guard: dark blue slacks, a light blue shirt with a maroon tie, and a black peaked cap. A pair of glasses bounced on his nose as he hobbled toward them.

Mamoru straightened and puffed out his chest.

Time for a little drama.

"Who am I?" he bellowed. "Who are you?"

This gave the security guard pause.

"What? Well… I'm Kenichi. I'm the security guard for the Osaka Jewelry Show."

Mamoru looked down at the guard and did his best to project an air of superiority and arrogance.

"And you dare question me? I'm the star model of the jewelry show!"

Kenichi looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow.

"You?"

Mamoru scowled.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Kenichi shrugged.

"Well, I mean…"

Mamoru cupped his hands and held them up in front of Kenichi's face.

"Does this look familiar? Kirei Kirei soap?"

Kenichi's eyes widened.

"What? That was you in those commercials? I always thought those were ladies' hands!"

Mamoru gave a dismissive wave.

"It's called acting, Kenichi."

Kenichi bowed, a slack expression on his face.

"My apologies. I meant no offense."

Mamoru could feel Artemis shake on his shoulder with suppressed laughter and fought the urge to play a game of "toss the cat".

"Fine," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."

To his surprise, Kenichi nodded.

"Right this way, sir!"

The guard escorted Mamoru and Artemis down the hallway. Every few seconds, he stole a sideways glance at them. Mamoru tried to ignore him. Any further interactions carried the chance that Kenichi would expose him as a fraud.

Finally, Kenichi couldn't hold back any longer.

"Were you… were you talking to that plush cat earlier?"

Artemis stiffened on Mamoru's shoulder as they arrived at the door to the models' dressing room. Mamoru made a "tsk, tsk" sound as he looked at Kenichi.

"Of course; I'm a model," he said. "Part of my allure is to be mysterious and eccentric. You should try it sometime."

He smirked as he opened the door to the dressing room.

"The ladies love it, Kenichi."

With that, he stepped into the dressing room and closed the door, leaving a befuddled Kenichi alone in the hallway.

Artemis jumped off Mamoru's shoulder and made a graceful landing on a nearby chair.

Mamoru looked around for a moment. The dressing room was large, lined with two couches and several plush chairs. A long table with various finger foods lined one wall. The hotel staff wanted to make the models feel comfortable.

Then he spotted the large display case at the back of the dressing room. The other models had not arrived yet, but the jewelry had. Rings, necklaces and earrings lined the case. He smiled. How kind of them to bring the jewelry to the thief.

He threw his red duffel bag on the ground and unzipped it. Inside, his tux and mask waited. On top lay a small, golden pocket watch in the shape of a star.

Artemis glanced inside the bag and spotted the watch.

"What's that?"

Mamoru shrugged.

"It's something I bought for Usagi, a long time ago," he said. "I just…wanted something of hers with me today."

Artemis stared at Mamoru for a moment.

"The way you handled that guard, Mamoru… I just wanted to say… You're insane!"

Mamoru winked at the plush cat as he slipped into the persona of a gentleman thief.

"Only on my good days," he said. "Let's get to work."

The fall sun hung low over the forest of the Boso Peninsula; the temperature had already begun to drop. Usagi and Makoto stood across from each other in the small clearing outside of the cabin, ready to spar. Chibiusa sat on a nearby tree stump and glanced between the combatants.

Usagi had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a pink t-shirt with a bunny on the front. She had braided her long, black odango into a ponytail. She had a determined look on her face, but Chibiusa thought her future mother looked as intimidating as an actual bunny.

Makoto hadn't bothered to change. She still wore her short running shorts and a white tank top, both a bit dirtied from her earlier fall. She towered over Usagi. Chibiusa loved Aunt Mako, but right now, she wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley. Her body was taut with a dangerous tension.

Usagi's serious facade cracked, and she grinned at Makoto.

"Ready when you are!"

Makoto nodded once. She raised her fists; the serious expression never left her face. Chibiusa wasn't so sure this was a good idea.

"Usagi, Aunt Mako looks really intense!"

Usagi smiled and waved at Chibiusa.

"Don't worry! I'll be fine!"

Makoto charged without warning and swung her fist at Usagi's face. Usagi looked startled, took an instinctive step backward and tripped over a large tree root. Her tumble to the ground allowed her to avoid Makoto's attack, but only just so.

"Hey, Mako! What's the big idea?"

She got up off the ground and rubbed her sore rump.

Makoto shook her head.

"The enemy won't wait for you to be ready, Usagi. They'll come at you fast and hurt you unless you pay attention."

Usagi sighed.

"I guess you're right."

She straightened and raised her fists.

"Alright, let's…"

Makoto didn't give her a chance to finish. Instead, she dropped low and went for a leg sweep. This time, Usagi was ready. She performed a quick backflip and landed outside of Makoto's reach.

Makoto charged forward once more, refusing to give Usagi even a moment to recover. She rained down a flurry of punches on her friend. Usagi did her best to weave between the attacks. Her footing was clumsy, but she avoided getting tagged.

Chibiusa's hands balled into fists. Makoto was too intense, too aggressive.

I hope you know what you're doing, Usagi.

"So, why didn't you want Motoki here with you?"

The question startled Makoto. Usagi managed to block one of her punches and push her backward. Makoto's eyes flashed with surprise.

She wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Less talking, Usagi. More fighting."

She came at Usagi, raising her long leg into the air for a kick. Usagi leapt away with the grace of a ballerina. Makoto's foot passed by her harmlessly.

"Why?" Usagi's question came between ragged breaths. "You and I could always talk."

As Usagi landed on her feet, Makoto kicked some dirt into her face. Blinded, she staggered backward and wiped at her eyes.

Makoto charged forward and shoved her to the ground with a shoulder check. Usagi hit the ground hard. Makoto stood over her and tried to catch her breath.

"Because…talking…can get you killed. Focus on the fight."

Usagi sat up and shot Makoto a look of indignation.

"That was a dirty trick," she said.

Makoto scowled at her.

"The enemy will…"

The tables turned and Makoto ran out of time. Usagi swept the legs out from under her. She went down hard, completed a back roll and ended back on her feet.

"So, that's how you want to play it?" Makoto asked.

Usagi stood and wiped the dirt from her sweats.

"If you're gonna kick dirt in my eyes, then yes."

Makoto waved her hand in a "bring it" motion.

"Let's go, princess."

Usagi swung at Makoto, who sidestepped her friend's fist and went on the counterattack. Her jab struck Usagi's shoulder.

"Defend yourself, Usagi!"

Usagi brought up her fists in a defensive posture, then tried to kick at Makoto, who blocked her foot with little effort.

"Is that all you've got?" she said. "You have to do better!"

Makoto went on the offensive.

"Be stronger!"

Jab!

Usagi blocked.

"Be faster!"

Jab!

Usagi dodged.

"Or you could die!"

Cross!

The last punch struck Usagi hard in the chest. The air left her lungs with a gasp and she collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Chibiusa screamed.

"Usagi!"

Makoto stood over her, her face red, her eyes vacant. It was as if a primal rage had possessed her body.

"Get up, Usagi," she said. "Transform. Show me what you really can do."

Usagi coughed and sputtered as she tried to catch her breath.

"No," she said in a hoarse voice between coughs.

Makoto's blind rage seemed to only intensify.

"I said transform!"

Chibiusa had seen enough. She sprinted across the clearing and put herself between Makoto and Usagi. She stretched out her arms as if to shield Usagi with her own body.

"That's enough, Aunt Mako," she said. "What has gotten into you?!"

Makoto stared down at Chibiusa and, after a moment, her features softened.

"I… I don't know. I'm… I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned around and stalked away toward the cabin. Chibiusa breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, she had thought Makoto might try to hurt her, too.

"Stop, Sailor Jupiter."

Chibiusa's breath caught in her throat. Makoto stopped in her tracks. The voice was Usagi's, but the tone, the inflection, sounded nothing like her. It was almost regal in its authority.

Makoto turned to face Usagi, her eyes wide. Usagi rose to her knees, her face serene, and stretched out a hand toward Makoto.

"Come here."

As if obeying an ancient reflex, Makoto did as commanded. She walked toward Usagi in slow, measured steps, her eyes never leaving those of her princess. Then she dropped to her knees in front of her.

Even with both women on their knees, Makoto towered over her friend. Usagi smiled a gentle smile and caressed Makoto's face. When she spoke, her voice was all Usagi again.

"What is going on with you, Mako? Please, talk to me."

Makoto's lips trembled.

"I hurt you. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Usagi placed a finger on her lips.

"That's not important right now. What is hurting you?"

Makoto burst into uncontrollable sobs. The tears streamed down her face and left wet tracks on her dust-covered cheeks. Usagi reached out for her and pulled Makoto into a tight embrace.

For a moment, Makoto's arms hung limp by her side. Then, they wrapped around Usagi as her shoulders continued to shake.

"I almost died, Usagi," she said between sobs. "I almost died!"

Usagi caressed her hair as she rocked Makoto back and forth.

"I know."

And then, at last, Makoto truly let go.

"He's going to die, Usagi!" Her sobs intensified. "He's going to die, and I don't know how to live without him!"

Chibiusa felt the color drain from her face. Makoto knew. The future had revealed itself to her in a dream, no doubt, and now she knew. Motoki Furuhata would suffer from a terminal illness.

Chibiusa watched as Usagi rocked a sobbing Makoto under the setting sun, her heart breaking for the strongest person she'd ever known.

Kenichi adjusted his glasses and peered up and down the hallway of the hotel. He smoothed his uniform as he stood guard outside the models' dressing room.

Only one model had arrived so far, a strange, flamboyant man with an odd intensity. More importantly, Ms. Osaka had already delivered the jewelry to the dressing room, and Kenichi had every intention of keeping those valuable items safe.

Without warning, a man wearing a tuxedo and a domino mask burst out of the dressing room. In one hand, he held a black cane. A white plush cat hung limp over the masked man's shoulder. Over his other shoulder, he carried a red duffle bag. A golden, star-shaped pocket watch dangled from his vest.

Kenichi's pulse quickened as he noticed some jewelry poking out of the top of the bag. He drew his gun from its holster.

"Stop right there!"

His hands shook as he aimed his weapon at the masked man. The jewel thief stopped and flashed him an amiable smile as he pointed the cane at Kenichi.

"Put the gun down, Kenichi. Nobody has to get hurt today."

That voice!

"You're that model," he said. "I knew those hands weren't delicate enough for the Kirei Kirei commercial!"

The masked man glanced at the plush cat on his shoulder.

"We don't have time for this. Can you reason with him?"

To Kenichi's shock, the plush cat sat up on the masked man's shoulder and blinked at him.

"Gladly," it said in a high, male voice.

Kenichi's mouth fell open.

"That stuffed cat… talks? How?"

The masked man chuckled.

"You could say he's my emotional support animal."

Before Kenichi could process the sheer insanity of what was happening, the plush cat jumped down from the masked man's shoulder with grace and precision. Its paws sunk into the plush carpet as it made a slow approach toward Kenichi.

"You heard my friend here," the cat said. "Put the gun down."

Kenichi's hands trembled. The gun felt so heavy.

Then the cat hissed.

"Now!"

Kenichi dropped the gun. The masked man lunged forward. He used his cane to pick up the weapon and slid it into his duffle bag.

"Thank you, Kenichi," he said. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

The man threw Kenichi a two-fingered salute, then sprinted down the hallway, cape billowing, his emotional support cat following close behind.

Kenichi stood frozen. He had a feeling he'd be looking for a new job soon. Nobody would find this story believable.

Sailor V observed the busy sidewalk outside of the hotel, still tucked into the narrow alley across the street. It had been forty-five minutes since Mamoru and Artemis had entered the hotel and her patience was wearing thin.

Her mind kept wandering back to Rei and their almost-kiss. Every time the thought of Rei rose to the surface, she could feel her heart pound, her body tense. She needed a distraction. She needed something to hit.

Finally, she saw Tuxedo Mask run through the front doors of the hotel and out onto the busy sidewalk. Passersby, hotel guests, and people arriving early for the jewelry show crowded the area. Still, the red duffle bag was visible on his shoulder.

He did it!

Now it was her turn. Sailor V's hand tightened around the Crescent Moon Cutter.

Showtime.

She burst out of the alley and ran across the street toward Tuxedo Mask. Her upper body leaned forward as she stretched both arms out behind her and picked up speed. Once she reached the other side of the street, she broke out into a forward tumble, flipping toward her destination. She could hear the murmurs of the crowd and ignored them. Right now, she had to focus.

Sailor V landed in front of Tuxedo Mask in a low crouch, flipped her hair for dramatic effect, and locked eyes with him.

He took a step back and brandished his cane.

"Get out of my way!"

He pitched his voice just loud enough that the gathering crowd could hear him. Sailor V shook her head.

"Return the jewelry you stole, thief!"

He flashed her a grin.

"Make me!"

Before she could respond, he lunged at her, swinging his cane in a wide arc. She ducked and rolled beneath the strike with the grace of a gymnast. Then she leapt back to her feet behind him and threw her Crescent Moon Cutter. It soared toward Tuxedo Mask and sliced through the bottom of the duffle bag. An assortment of jewelry spilled from the bag and onto the sidewalk.

The Cutter returned to Sailor V like a boomerang, and she snatched it out of the air. She smiled at Tuxedo Mask as she wiggled her index finger at him. Several people in the crowd raised their cell phones to capture the spectacle.

Tuxedo Mask glared at her.

"You'll pay for that!"

He charged, but Sailor V pivoted on her heels and delivered a swift kick to his side. He recoiled for a moment, then jabbed at her with his cane.

They continued their unrehearsed performance for the crowd. Sailor V danced around Tuxedo Mask, her movements fluid and agile. Still, she recognized he was more adept at fighting without powers; his movements were more targeted, more considered.

Sailor V felt her mind drifting as she lost herself in the moment, in the flurry or parries and counterattacks. Then it landed on Rei and her anger and hurt flashed once more. Before she realized what she was doing, she lashed out at Tuxedo Mask and struck him hard across the face.

He stumbled backward, then fell on his rear. His eyes widened in shock.

She regretted her loss of control right away. Still, with the eyes of the public on them, she couldn't exactly apologize. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips and taunted him.

"Is that all you've got?"

To his credit, Tuxedo Mask quickly recovered.

"Not even close."

He swept Sailor V's legs out from under her with a well-timed kick. She tumbled to the ground. He leapt to his feet with practiced ease and bowed to the crowd.

"Thank you so much for coming, my friends. Until we meet again…adieu."

Before Sailor V could react, he dashed away, weaving into the crowd of stunned onlookers. Their audience erupted into an indistinct murmur.

Sailor V rose to her feet and placed her hands on her hips once more. She spotted a man recording her with his cell phone and turned toward him.

"People of Tokyo! I am the sailor-suited guardian of justice: Sailor V! I know I have been gone for a long time, but now I'm back. I promise I'll never let you down again. Wherever there is injustice, I will appear. You can count on me!"

She waved at the crowd, who broke out in applause. As her gaze swept across the onlookers, she spotted a middle-aged, bespectacled man wearing a security guard uniform. He stared at her in stunned silence.

She waved at him, then pointed at the jewelry.

"Please make sure these get back to their rightful owner."

The guard hesitated, then nodded once.

Sailor V smiled, then ran across the street and disappeared down an alley.

She met up with Mamoru a few minutes later in another narrow alleyway, far from prying eyes. This one seemed cleaner than the last; at least there was no nauseating smell. Mamoru sat on a trash can and checked the time on Usagi's pocket watch. His mask lay on his thigh. Artemis sat on the ground nearby and regarded Sailor V with curious eyes.

Mamoru turned when he heard her approach. She could see a large bruise already rising on his cheek. He glared at her.

She took off her mask.

"Mamoru…"

He stood and pointed his finger at her.

"You lost control out there, Minako," he said. "You came to me with a solid plan, but if you're going to let your love life affect this mission, we might as well call it off."

Minako inhaled sharply.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He took a step toward her.

"I'm not blind," he said. "Tell me that frustration about Rei didn't cause your hand to slip."

She glared at him. The silence between them thickened. She wasn't sure what made her angrier; that he dared to question her personal life, or that he was right.

"Guess what, Mamoru?" she said after a long moment. "Usagi was right. You're an insensitive idiot sometimes."

She stormed past Mamoru, ramming her shoulder into him on the way. As she walked away, she could hear Artemis needle Mamoru once more.

"Well, with that bruise, you won't be playing a male model for a while," the plush cat said.

Mamoru sighed.

"Not now, Artemis."

Minako stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. Then she glanced over her shoulder at her two companions.

"Well, are you coming?" she asked. "We have work to do."

Petz hurried down the grand corridor of the Moon Palace. The low heels of her short, green boots clicked against the polished marble floors. The sound echoed in the cavernous space. It made her feel small. Alone.

The vaulted ceilings gave the hallway an almost hallowed appearance. Bright light shone down from splendid, golden chandeliers. Magnificent tapestries hung from the walls, each embroidered with an image of a different planet in the solar system.

She snorted. The Silver Millennium had always been self-aggrandizing.

She pushed aside the old, familiar anger that enveloped her like a comfortable blanket whenever she thought about the Moon Kingdom. Right now, she had much bigger problems.

Berthier was missing. Rubeus had dispatched her to kill Sailor Mercury and Sailor Jupiter before they could reclaim their powers. She had never returned from that mission. Had she died, or worse, betrayed them to her old friend, Sailor Mercury?

She reached the end of the hallway and approached the arched double-leaf doors that led to the palace's throne room. Intricate carvings adorned the massive doors. The largest depicted Queen Serenity facing off against a nebulous darkness, her scepter held high.

Petz hesitated, took a deep breath, then pushed open one of the heavy doors and entered the throne room.

If the hallway had seemed like a hallowed space, then the throne room was an attempt to touch the heavens. It surpassed a mere seat of power; it was a cathedral.

The space was vast and adorned with white columns. A black and white checkerboard pattern covered the floor. A plush, dark-blue runner cut a path toward a throne that seemed hewn from a single enormous crystal. Large, golden wings protruded from the back of the throne. Behind it, immense windows looked out on the moon's surface and, beyond it, the vastness of space. The twinkling lights of a million stars illuminated the room.

There, sitting on the throne, his legs thrown over one arm, sat Prince Demande. A small smile played over his lips.

Saphir, Demande's constant companion, stood next to the throne. He saw Petz enter and bent down to whisper something into the prince's ear.

Petz swallowed hard, then followed the path of the blue runner all the way to the throne. As she got closer to Demande, she slowed her approach, then stopped. She dropped to one knee and bowed her head.

"My prince."

She could feel his eyes on her as he regarded her in silence.

"Petz," he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't recall summoning the Ayakashi Sisters. I asked for Rubeus, did I not?"

Petz raised her head to meet his gaze.

"Yes, my prince. Rubeus remains indisposed. His injuries are…"

Demande dismissed her explanation with a wave of his hand.

"Irrelevant," he said. "I told him the princess was not to be harmed, yet he challenged her anyway. Had she not punished him for his insolence, I would have."

Petz bit her tongue. Her feelings for Rubeus ran deep, perhaps even deeper than her loyalty. She knew her sisters did not approve, but her heart desired what her heart desired. What did they know of love, anyway?

Her nose twitched as she gritted her teeth.

"Of course, my prince."

He regarded her for another long moment, his face like stone. His eyes seemed to peer into her very soul.

He sees right through me. One day, he'll kill me for these thoughts.

Instead, he gave her a small smile.

"Very well, Petz. We shall let Rubeus recover from his injuries… if you will take on his duties in his absence."

She bowed her head once more.

"I live to serve."

Demande snapped his fingers.

"Then stand and don't forget it."

She stood. Her gaze shifted from Demande to Saphir, then back.

"What would you have me do?"

Saphir stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"My brother charged me with, among other duties, monitoring Earth's communication systems. He believed we might learn something useful. A Tokyo news program broadcast this footage moments ago."

He waved his hand through the air, and an image appeared in front of Petz. The hologram was crude and blurry. Whoever recorded it had used subpar technology.

She watched as a Sailor Guardian engaged in battle with a man dressed in a tuxedo. The Guardian's suit did not look familiar, nor did she display any Guardian powers. The man in the tuxedo made his escape, but the Sailor Guardian remained behind to address the crowd.

"People of Tokyo! I am the sailor-suited guardian of justice: Sailor V! I know I have been gone for a long time, but now I'm back. I promise I'll never let you down again. Wherever there is injustice, I will appear. You can count on me!"

She waved at the crowd, then ran off. Saphir waved his hand once more. The hologram rewound, then froze on an image of Sailor V and the man in the tuxedo mid-battle.

Petz raised an eyebrow.

"Sailor V?"

Demande raised his hand and tapped his index finger against his temple.

"Think, my dear Petz. Look closer."

Petz studied the image for a moment. Then it hit her.

"Venus?"

Demande nodded.

"It appears so," he said. "She does not seem to have her powers, but she never could help herself. She always was a do-gooder."

Petz's eyes darted to Saphir, who studied the image with great interest. The intensity of her gaze caused him to look up, and their eyes met. After a moment, his brow furrowed. He looked away. Petz allowed herself a small smile.

I see you, Saphir.

She cleared her throat.

"So, you want me to kill Sailor Venus?"

Saphir's eyes widened.

"No!"

A hushed silence fell over the throne room. Demande looked up at Saphir, a bemused expression on his face.

"Saphir? What seems to be the problem?"

Saphir composed himself.

"It seems to me we keep attacking the Guardians to prevent their powers from reawakening. All we have done is anger the princess enough to awaken her power."

He knelt down next to Demande.

"Let's take Venus, instead," he said. "Capture her. Lure the princess to us. Force her to surrender herself in exchange for the leader of her precious Guardians."

Demande rubbed his chin.

"A novel approach," he said. "Once she is in our possession, we might extend control over her. Sailor Moon's resistance in the future would disappear, and our conquest would be complete."

He turned to Petz.

"Go to Earth. Seek out… injustice and capture Sailor Venus. Bring her to me."

Petz's eyes widened.

"My prince…"

Demande shot to his feet. His eyes turned black.

"Do as you are told, Petz!" he thundered. "You live to serve!"

She fell to her knees and lowered her gaze.

"Of course, my prince!"

She gritted her teeth once more. Fresh waves of anger washed over her. Demande's obsession with the princess would be their undoing… unless she took matters into her own hands.

Yes. Yes!

She would seek out Sailor Venus and use her to find the princess. Once Petz finally laid hands on Serenity, she would find out the truth about Berthier's fate. Only then would she avenge her sweet Rubeus and remove the princess from this plane of existence once and for all.

The sun had set on the Boso Peninsula. Night brought with it glorious moonlight and the varied sounds of the forest. Thankfully, it also meant that it was time to eat.

Chibiusa stood in the corner of the tiny kitchen and watched Aunt Makoto cook. It was quite a sight. Makoto dashed around in the small space, her face a mask of concentration as she added noodles, chopped vegetables, and several spices to the large stir fry pan.

Within minutes, a mouthwatering scent wafted through the air. The pleasant sound of sizzling vegetables accompanied the smell.

The cabin was small, but Chibiusa adored it. It featured a large living room, great for entertaining a small family, and more than enough space in its two bedrooms. The kitchen was downright cozy. It was a perfect getaway spot.

Usagi joined them, her hair still damp from washing up. She wore a simple blue dress and had pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She grinned at Chibiusa.

"Something sure smells good," she said. "I'm starving."

Chibiusa rolled her eyes.

"You're always starving, Usagi."

She winked at Chibiusa in response.

"Putting up with you is hungry work. Come, help me set the table."

Usagi navigated around Makoto and started gathering plates and utensils. Chibiusa noticed Usagi stayed out of Makoto's way and said nothing to her friend. There was no anger over what had happened earlier, just a friend giving another her space.

Together, they set the table. Usagi also made some green tea and poured three cups. Then they sat down and waited.

They didn't have to wait for long. Makoto appeared with the stir fry pan and a large serving spoon. She scooped generous helpings of yakisoba onto all three plates, then put the pan in the sink and took a seat between Usagi and Chibiusa.

Chibiusa looked from Makoto to Usagi. Neither said a word. Then Chibiusa's stomach released a guttural growl, not unlike the roar of a bear. Makoto and Usagi looked at each other, eyes wide, then burst into laughter. Chibiusa shrugged and joined in.

When their laughter subsided, Makoto took a deep breath.

"When I was a kid, my parents brought me to this cabin every summer," she said. "My dad loved to cook. On our first night here, he always made yakisoba. He said it was his good luck dish. I hope you like it."

Chibiusa took a bite and her eyes flew open.

"This is incredible," she said as she scooped another large portion into her mouth. "You've cooked for me all of my life; how come I've never tasted this before?"

Makoto gave her a puzzled look.

"I couldn't tell you, Chibiusa. That still lies in my future."

Chibiusa felt a pang in her chest. Of course, this was not her Makoto. Not really.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

Makoto shook her head.

"Don't be. That person, that version of me, has been on my mind a lot."

Usagi put her fork down and gave Makoto her undivided attention.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Makoto grew quiet once more. For a moment, Chibiusa thought she'd refuse. Instead, the words spilled from her like water from a broken dam.

"I saw the future, Usagi. I discovered Motoki will get very sick. He may already be sick. Over the years, he will need a lot of care, and then he will die… and I will be all alone again."

Makoto turned to Chibiusa, who felt her heart drop.

"Am I right?"

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then nodded.

"Uncle Motoki is very sick, but he's not dead where I'm from."

Makoto's shoulders slumped.

"Not yet," she whispered.

Usagi was quiet for a moment, then rubbed her chin in a gesture of contemplation.

"Have you talked to Motoki about this?"

Makoto sighed.

"No," she said. "I'm not even sure how to start."

The three of them fell silent. Then, without warning, Usagi jumped out of her chair and raised a fist as if threatening death itself.

"So we save him!"

Makoto's eyes widened.

"This isn't an enemy we can just defeat, Usagi. It's a terminal illness."

Usagi shrugged.

"So? Minako had one of those, and we saved her. Ami has healing powers now. Maybe that can help. Or maybe we'll find a different way!"

She dropped to one knee in front of Makoto and took her friend's hand.

"You're scared because you almost died, but we saved you. You're scared because Motoki will die, but we can save him, too. Don't give up, Makoto! Together, we can do anything!"

Makoto started at Usagi for a long moment. Then she slipped out of her chair and onto her knees in front of Usagi. She wrapped her arms around her friend. Warm tears of relief streamed down her face. Usagi had given her the one thing she needed most: hope.

"Thank you, Usagi," she said. "You're a good friend."

Chibiusa watched the two women embrace for a moment and marveled at her future mother. She'd never seen her mama act so warm, so selfless, so inspirational. Her mother was much more serious and detached. Not for the first time since arriving in the past, she wondered what had changed her mother so much.

After a moment, Chibiusa felt her stomach growl.

"Are you going to finish your yakisoba? Because if not…"

Sailor V stood on the roof of the apartment building, her hands on her hips, and looked down at the street below. The first sunlight of the new day had just begun to peek out from behind some clouds and cast the sky in an orange glow. A mild breeze caused her hair to wave behind her like a golden halo; her blue skirt billowed.

A couple of pedestrians idled down the sidewalk; one of them looked up and pointed at her. She gave him a wave and smiled.

It had been a busy night. Despite the tension between them, she and Tuxedo Mask had continued with their plan. Sailor V had foiled crimes in several busy Tokyo locations. Mamoru had done a fine job posing as a gentleman criminal, robbing street vendors, snatching purses, and, of course, stealing jewelry.

The word was out: Sailor V was back. She had cast the line with the worm on the hook.

Let's see if anything bites.

For a moment, she wondered if their little "crime wave" might earn them the attention of the police. She thought back to her previous interactions with the police as Sailor V and snickered.

Let them come, then. I never liked the police. Incompetent fools. I'd enjoy knocking them off their high horse.

She noticed the footsteps behind her almost too late. On pure instinct, she threw herself to the side and rolled across the roof. As she leapt back to her feet, she saw a wave of dark energy strike the roof where she had stood a moment before.

Sailor V's eyes searched the area until she spotted her opponent.

A woman stood across from her. She seemed somehow familiar. She had pulled her long green hair back into a loose bun. A short, dark green dress, black tights, short boots, and long gloves completed her look. On her forehead, she wore the symbol of the Black Moon Clan; two black crystal earrings dangled from her ears.

Sailor V straightened.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The woman took slow, measured steps toward her.

"Don't play coy with me, Sailor Venus," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I am Petz. My prince has some questions for you. You'll be coming with me."

Sailor V's pulse quickened. This was unexpected. She had thought somebody would come to kill her like Ami and Makoto. What had changed?

"I'm not going anywhere, Petz."

She held out her Crescent Moon Cutter and prepared for battle.

Petz laughed.

"You think that toy can stop me?" She shook her head. "I have some questions, too. Questions about what happened to my sister Berthier. Questions about the whereabouts of your precious princess."

She spat out the last word in revulsion. Sailor V took a step back, then realized she had reached the edge of the roof. She looked over her shoulder and down the side of the building. One more step and she'd be in freefall.

"You expect me to just give up my princess?" she said, her voice tense.

Petz laughed again. The sound was not entirely unpleasant. Under different circumstances, Sailor V wondered, could they have shared a laugh or two?

"Not right away, no," she said. "Oh, Venus, I'm going to enjoy this."

Black energy crackled around Petz as she lunged forward. Sailor V brought up her Crescent Moon Cutter and steeled herself. At that moment, she wondered if she hadn't made a horrible mistake.

The light of dawn filtered through the cabin's bedroom window and tickled Chibiusa awake. She stirred in bed, her hand searching for the warmth of Usagi sleeping next to her. When she couldn't find that warmth, her eyes flew open.

Chibiusa sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She took a moment to take in the unfamiliar surroundings of Makoto's cabin. The bedroom was small, but cute. Floral paintings lined the walls. Warm orange sunlight lent the room a cozy glow.

She slipped out of the bed and wandered into the kitchen, covering her mouth as she yawned.

"Usagi? Aunt Mako?"

There was no response. She glanced around and noticed a note pinned to the front of the refrigerator. She snatched it from the fridge and raised an eyebrow. It was from Usagi.

"Gone out to train with Mako," it said. "Be back soon. Onigiri is on the counter. Eat! Love you."

Her future mother had signed it with a tiny sketch of a bunny. Chibiusa stared at the note for a long time. Had Usagi even realized she had written "love you" on the note?

A sudden voice from the living room jolted her from her thoughts.

"Hello, small lady."

Chibiusa's blood turned cold in her veins. She gazed into the living room. Silhouetted against the orange glow of the rising sun sat a woman dressed in blue. Her long white hair hung over her shoulder in a braid. She had crossed her legs and her hands rested in her lap. The symbol of the Black Moon Clan adorned her forehead.

Berthier!

A small smile played over her lips.

"Is your mother home?"

...to be continued.

Next Time on Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon: Black Moon

"The Healing Waters are dangerous. I think they could kill me." - Ami Mizuno

"Did you just throw a rose at them? What is that gonna do?!" - Artemis

"Have you lost your mind? She's the enemy! We can't trust her!" - Sailor V

"The child holds the key to time! Bring it to me!" - Prince Demande

"Jupiter Light Power! Make up!" - Makoto Kino