CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She was frozen. To the core.

Though she'd been soaking in a hot bath long enough to prune, Usagi couldn't get warm. Drawing her knees to her chest, she lowered her head and stared at the water with vacant eyes. A slow drip from the faucet echoed through the silence, sending tiny ripples across the surface, and she counted the seconds between each drop—nine, eleven, thirteen—to keep her thoughts from wandering. But as the count grew higher, her focus grew weaker, and disorienting bursts of memory blazed in her mind with increasing severity, shattering her fragile calm.

Suffocating darkness.

Drip.

Paralyzing betrayal.

Drip.

Shocking cruelty.

Drip.

Usagi tried to reject the thoughts, tried to maintain her robotic count, but when a tortured blue gaze flashed in her mind's eye, she wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees. Darkness returned, but this time she welcomed it, sinking within its depths, relishing in its obscurity. The chill at her core blossomed outward, slowing her heart rate, prickling her flesh, numbing her fear. Her pain. Her guilt.

When at last she raised her head and opened her eyes, the world around her—and within her—was once again still. Usagi took a deep breath, relaxed her arms, and grabbed the sides of the tub before pushing to her feet. She'd lingered long enough. Stepping out of the bath, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself before turning to the mirror. Steam had fogged the glass, so she wiped away a streak of condensation to reveal her dull, distorted reflection. Usagi blinked once then turned away before the glass began to clear.

She towelled off with brisk efficiency, making no effort to be gentle even though her skin was already pink from the long, hot soak. She was nearly finished when her gaze fell upon the thin golden scar bordering her left kneecap. The sensation of fingertips returned—brushing, grasping, crushing, caressing. The towel dropped to the floor as Usagi swayed and reached out for an anchor. When her hand clasped the cold marble of the vanity, she held fast, absorbing its chill, embracing its solidity. As soon as calm returned, she pulled thick, flannel pyjamas over cold, clammy gooseflesh and exited the bathroom.

Yuichiro's family home offered all sorts of luxuries, not the least of which was an en suite in every bedroom. Usagi scurried barefoot across the lush carpet to the wide, queen-sized bed and scrambled onto the mattress before tucking her icy feet beneath her. Though the urge to climb under the covers was strong, she resisted and loosened the towel wrapped around her hair instead. Damp golden locks tumbled down around her shoulders in a cascade of tangled waves. Usagi frowned at the matted hair in dismay. She'd tried to wash it, but when the tenderness in her inflamed scalp had brought her to tears, she'd settled for rinsing the ends. Brushing it would be an ordeal.

Speaking of ordeals…

Usagi turned her gaze to the door. She'd said little after coming through the portal, but the Senshi had been too relieved in those first few moments to notice her silence. Before the questions could begin, the victim had woken up, and getting her safely down the mountain had become everyone's focus—well, almost everyone's. Mars had insisted on taking Usagi straight back to the house, and though Usagi had made a half-hearted protest, the others had agreed. Venus, Jupiter, and Mercury would deal with the victim while Mars and Usagi went on ahead.

The journey back to the house had been oddly quiet but mercifully short. Yuichiro's family home was not only luxurious, it was also private and ideally located a short walk from the resort. When they'd stepped into the empty house, Usagi had taken one look at Mars and panicked. A world of questions had lain in those violet eyes, and the thought of having to answer them—then or ever—had made Usagi want to run right back out the front door. Instead, she'd spoken—before Mars could.

"I—I need to…to clean up."

Mars had looked at Usagi long and hard—had studied her dishevelled hair, her bloodied leg, her panicked gaze—but in the end she'd nodded and said, "All right."

Usagi had bolted for the stairs without another word. It had been an act of pure cowardice, but she'd never been very brave, so why start then? She'd almost gotten away when Mars had called her name.

"Usagi."

Usagi had paused, gripped the banister, turned.

"We need to talk. Tonight."

The declaration hung in the air like an axe over Usagi's head. How long before the door opened? How long before Rei came looking for answers? Combing restless fingers through her hair, Usagi turned to the nightstand in search of her brush and froze. Sitting on the corner of the bedside table was the star locket. Usagi hadn't put it there, hadn't seen it since it had disappeared earlier, but there it sat, its positioning eerily reminiscent of her dream on the train. She whipped her head around, checking for ominous balconies and unwanted visitors, but found the room empty.

Ill at ease, she turned a wary gaze back on the locket and scooted backwards on the bed. This was its third unexpected appearance today—fourth, if she counted her dream. Why did it keep showing up?

A knock sounded at the door, pulling Usagi's gaze. Before she could respond, the door swung open and Rei stepped into the room. She was back in civilian clothes, black leggings and a burgundy sweater dress, and Usagi clenched the worn flannel of her pyjama bottoms in one hand and swept her knotted hair over her shoulder with the other. Rei closed the door behind her with a quiet click and leaned back against it before settling her violet gaze upon Usagi. They watched each other, gauging expressions, considering opening statements…planning exit routes.

Usagi briefly wondered if the others were back yet. It was dangerous to leave her and Rei unsupervised. The two of them could go at it like nobody's business. Heading into a one-on-one without a referee on hand could be disastrous, and if there were ever a time when Usagi needed a buffer, it was now. Rei was as ferocious as the fire she commanded. If she wanted answers, she would stop at nothing to get them, and Usagi wasn't up for another battle. Not tonight. Not after… Not tonight.

After a tense silence, Rei ran a hand through her dark bangs and breathed a heavy sigh. "You've barely said a word since—" She faltered, surprising Usagi. She'd expected Rei to come in hot, but instead she sounded shaken, out of sorts… In other words, Rei didn't sound like Rei. When Rei tucked her hands behind her back, Usagi wondered if she was reaching for the doorknob. To lock them in, or to make a quick getaway? Surely not the latter—Usagi had never seen Rei run from anything, least of all her.

Rei sighed again but held her ground. "Are you all right?"

Was Usagi all right?

Well, her knee was healed. Her knuckles, on the other hand, were stiff and swollen and her scalp was still tender, but she'd suffered worse injuries. Physically, she was okay. Mentally? Well, that was a whole other ball of wax. Her mind was a veritable minefield of explosive emotions. One wrong thought, one false sentiment, could detonate the entire works. She couldn't unravel her confusion, couldn't succumb to her fear, couldn't embrace her anger…and above all, Usagi couldn't assuage her guilt.

To do so would require more strength, more courage, than she possessed, so she hovered on the borders of her consciousness, studiously avoiding all thoughts of dark princes, scheming princesses, and sad, tortured schoolboys. She wouldn't remember their savagery, their treachery…their selflessness. Wouldn't recall their vicious threats, their harsh judgements…their anguished cries. Wouldn't relive their harrowing abuse, their debilitating trickery…their crushing vulnerability.

She wouldn't even say their names.

To do so would give them power over her. Hadn't she proved that today? Hadn't she unleashed a magic she didn't even know she possessed? Or was it all coincidence? Was Usagi only fooling herself by believing that a single word could conjure the boy she thought she'd lost? The one word she hadn't allowed herself to utter in his presence until today.

His Name.

Mamoru.

Why hadn't she said it before? The question had been hovering in the back of Usagi's mind since he'd sent her flying through that portal, but she still hadn't come up with a satisfying answer. Had she been trying to separate him from his other identities? Was it easier to see him as Tuxedo Kamen? Endymion? Why could she face the hero and the prince but not the boy? Why was their rejection, their condemnation, any less daunting? Though the questions ate at her, they were nothing compared to the guilt.

It tormented her, knowing that she'd left him there alone. Mamoru had been standing right in front of her, and Usagi had done nothing to help him. Why hadn't she thought to use the wand sooner? Why hadn't she dragged him with her? Why hadn't she been the hero he needed? She'd just stood there, helpless, and watched him suffer. His tortured expression was burned in her brain—his agonized cries still echoed in her head.

A part of her had feared he was gone, but had he been there all along, imprisoned inside his own mind? Usagi hoped not. Her experiences with Serenity had been traumatic enough—how horrible would it be to be trapped within Endymion's mind? While she prayed Mamoru was safely sheltered deep down inside where Endymion's cruelty couldn't harm him, Usagi also wondered what exactly had allowed him to emerge. Was it as simple as a name, or was there more to it than that?

Whatever the case, Mamoru had heard her call. Had come out to help her. To save her. Again. And Usagi had failed him. Again.

Usagi looked at Rei, still standing at the door, still waiting for an answer. What had she asked?

Was Usagi all right?

"I'm fine."

Rei didn't look convinced. Shaking her head, she walked over to the bed and sat down before giving Usagi a sharp look. "You're lying," Rei said with her usual directness. "Not just about how you are. It's more than that. There's something you're not telling us." Rei was right of course, but Usagi wasn't about to admit that. "You're pulling away. Something's wrong—I know it, you know it, but for whatever reason you refuse to talk about it."

Rei frowned and glanced at the door. "The others think you just need time, but I don't agree. It's been two weeks and things have only gotten worse. You're hiding something. I can see it in your eyes. I'm afraid—" When her voice faltered again, Usagi assumed it was because she'd misspoke. Rei wasn't afraid of anything. "I'm afraid if you don't let it out, it's going to consume you. If you keep on like this, I'm scared we're going to lose you."

When her chin quivered, Rei clenched her jaw and looked away. "I won't let that happen." She planted her hands on the bed and squared her shoulders. "I refuse to sit back and watch you pull further and further away from us. I don't care what the others say. This has to stop."

Usagi puzzled over Rei's words as though she'd said them in a foreign tongue. As her poor, beleaguered brain began to piece together a rough translation, Usagi felt a tiny glow of warmth flicker within her icy core. Rei was worried about her. Usagi knew she should focus on everything else Rei had said, knew she should concentrate on how she would respond, but she let herself hold on to that one thought for a few moments longer. Rei was worried about her.

Rei shifted and drew her legs up onto the mattress in order to face Usagi. "I'm—I'm sorry for blowing up at you today," she said, meeting Usagi's stunned gaze, "and for last week. I let my temper get the better of me and said some things I— Well, some things that I regret." She dropped her gaze to the duvet and traced a finger along the delicate embroidery. "This hasn't—this hasn't been easy for me either. I'm not used to feeling so…helpless."

Several seconds went by before Usagi realized she was gaping at Rei like an imbecile. Before she could snap her jaw shut and reach for Rei's hand—before she could tell Rei just how helpless she, too, felt—Rei looked up and scowled. "You're not making it any easier on me, by the way. Running into danger at every opportunity and refusing to tell me what's going on in that crazy head of yours." Usagi flinched as her empathy fizzled and indignation flared.

"Sometimes I just want to strangle you," Rei said, clutching the duvet in both hands, "but that's only because I—" Her expression softened before she looked away again. "Well, you know."

"Only because you what?" Usagi prodded. She could think of any number of reasons why Rei would like to wring her neck—Usagi had certainly felt the same urge more than a few times herself—but she wanted to hear it straight from the priestess's mouth. Why was it that Rei could never muster an ounce of patience, never spare a kind word, when it came to Usagi? What major grievance lay at the core of their dysfunction? If Usagi knew, maybe she could fix it.

When Rei's mouth puckered like she'd just bit down on a particularly sour lemon, Usagi braced herself for scorn. "Because I care about you, you dummy."

A sharp retort rose up in Usagi's throat before she registered the response, and when she swallowed the hollow words a moment later, heat pricked her eyes. Blinking, she bit down on her lower lip and allowed her thoughts to reset before saying a simple, "Oh."

Rei sighed and reached for her hand. "You know that, don't you?"

Though a part of her wanted to say yes, Usagi didn't answer at once. Instead, she gave herself time to consider the question. Gave herself time to acknowledge the doubt she'd felt these many months. The hurt she'd nursed. The rejection she'd feared. Things had never been easy between her and Rei, and Usagi suspected they never would be, but knowing that love, not hate, lay beneath the enmity made a world of difference. All at once, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.

Usagi wrapped her fingers around Rei's hand and squeezed. "I do now."

Rei's eyes shimmered as she looked down at their joined hands, then she brushed a thumb over Usagi's swollen knuckles. Usagi pulled back with an involuntary hiss, drawing her sore hand into the protection of her lap then covering it with her other one. When she looked up, Rei's gaze was full of concern, but there was a hardness behind it.

"What happened, Usagi?"

Everything. "Nothing."

"Why are you lying to me? Why won't you just tell me the truth?"

Which truth did Rei want to hear? That Usagi was harbouring an alien princess inside her—one that could take control at a moment's notice? That she had, in fact, done so today and nearly handed the ginzuishou over to the enemy? That the enemy in question acted like no other Usagi had ever faced? That he terrified her and fascinated her in equal measure? Surely Rei didn't want to hear any of that, and even if she did, Usagi couldn't tell her. She couldn't let Rei know how weak she truly was.

But what about Mamoru? Rei deserved to know the truth about him. Deserved to know that he was still there, still within reach. After all, he was Rei's— Usagi bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Rei would want to know that Usagi had seen Mamoru, but when she found out that Usagi had failed him all over again, she would be devastated. How could Usagi do that to her? Give her that comfort, and then take it away just as quickly? Rei would never have let him slip through her fingers. Rei would never have left him behind.

Rei would have saved Mamoru.

The star locket, still sitting on the nightstand, chose that moment to pop open, filling the heavy silence with its soft, melancholic tune. Rei and Usagi turned in unison, and though Usagi yearned to shove the keepsake in a drawer out of sight, Rei reached over and scooped it up. A warning sprang to Usagi's lips—not to touch it, not to trust it—but she held her tongue as Rei studied the locket, watching the tiny crescent moon rotate endlessly around its centre. When a wistful smile bloomed on Rei's face, Usagi asked a question of her own.

"Do you miss him?"

Rei blinked and fumbled the locket in an uncharacteristic act of clumsiness, sending it tumbling against the mattress. When it landed face down and clicked shut, neither she nor Usagi reached for it.

Rei shifted her gaze from the keepsake to Usagi. "Who?" Usagi pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and held Rei's gaze. She didn't trust herself to say his name aloud. Not yet. When a faint blush tinged Rei's cheeks, Usagi fisted her hands in her lap. "Mamoru?" Rei said, her voice unnaturally high. She looked down at the locket and flipped it over before arranging the fine golden chain around it in a circle. "How could I miss him? I hardly know him."

Now who was lying?

Usagi didn't know Mamoru either. She didn't know why he always teased her—about her looks, her grades, her eating habits…the list went on. She didn't know why, in the seven months since meeting him, he had repeatedly refused to call her by her name, referring to her instead by an infuriating nickname. She didn't know why he belittled her interests, questioned her choices, and mocked her ideals. The one thing Usagi did know was that Mamoru knew how to get under her skin like no one else she'd ever met, and somehow, despite it all, she still missed him.

Rei was dating him, and she expected Usagi to believe that she didn't?

"It's like I said last week," Rei said without looking up, "we only went on a few dates, and he never said much. I thought he was just quiet"—she snuck a glance at Usagi, who was silently disagreeing with her observation—"but now I wonder if things might have been different if I'd spent more time talking to him and not at him." Rei sighed and ran a hand through her hair before giving her head a small shake. "Mostly I just wonder how I could have been so blind."

When Usagi's eyebrows shot up, Rei grimaced. "I don't know how I missed it. I'm supposed to be intuitive; normally I have a sense about these things. How did I not realize that he was Tuxedo Kamen?" She blew out a frustrated breath. "Every time we went out, there was an attack. There I was, thinking up excuses to ditch him so I could transform, and he was probably doing the same. The truth was right in front of me, and I didn't see it."

Usagi knew exactly how Rei felt. She'd condemned herself for the same blindness, the same stupidity. Hearing someone as perceptive as Rei admit that she had missed it too provided some measure of consolation, but fat lot of good that did her.

"I didn't see it because I didn't see him," Rei confessed. "When I looked at Mamoru, I saw a guy who was handsome, who was older, who went to a good school… I saw an opportunity to make myself look better, and I went for it. After that, I had no reason to look any closer." Her expression grew sullen. "What does that say about me?"

Usagi was too busy processing her reaction to Rei's admission to judge her for it. As much as she tried to deny it, Usagi couldn't describe the feeling bubbling up inside of her as anything other than relief. Rei didn't have any real feelings for Mamoru. Why did hearing that fill Usagi with a sudden lightness she hadn't felt in weeks? Was she just happy to know that Rei hadn't been nursing heartache all this time? That was certainly a more palatable explanation than the alternative. If Rei had no feelings for Mamoru, then Usagi could let go of the guilt she harboured for having her own conflicted feelings for him.

What did that say about her?

Rei flopped back on the mattress with a sigh. Frowning, she leaned over to one side and reached behind her before pulling Usagi's stuffed rabbit, Ninjin, out from under her back. She looked from Ninjin to Usagi before casting her gaze to the ceiling. "I'd feel a lot worse if I thought Mamoru had actually been interested in me, but I'm pretty sure he was only being polite when he agreed to go out with me."

Usagi crawled over and laid down on her side next to Rei before running her gaze over Rei's pensive expression. Rei was so beautiful, and she made no effort to be. Beauty came to her as naturally as all of her other enviable qualities—her intelligence, her dedication, her loyalty, her integrity. The list was endless. How could anyone look at Rei and not be interested? Was it possible that Rei didn't see herself the way Usagi, and surely the rest of the world, saw her?

Rei's perfect nose crinkled in a grimace. "I had to ask him out, I had to suggest plans, I had to make all the effort. It's embarrassing, really." Her delicate ears turned red as her elegant mouth curved in an exaggerated frown. "I'd just blather on about this or that, and aside from an occasional nod, he'd barely ever say a word." A surge of empathy prompted Usagi to reach out and clasp Rei's forearm. Usagi was no stranger to humiliation, especially when it came to Mamoru, but this had to be hard for Rei to admit.

Rei turned her head to look at Usagi. "The only time Mamoru and I ever really talked," she said, "was when you came up."

Usagi couldn't have been more shocked if Rei had sprouted a second head. "You talked about me?"

Rei's eyes narrowed in a shrewd look before she turned her gaze back to the ceiling. "Sure," she replied in a breezy tone, the corner of her mouth curving up in a smirk, "we swapped stories. He told me about flying shoes and how you like to talk to your cat,"—Rei grinned—"and I told him how you always cry during that commercial for miso soup, and that you like to pretend that your pillow is Motoki and use it to practice—"

Usagi grabbed Ninjin and bopped Rei in the face with him before flopping back down on her pillow in a huff. "You're both horrible," she said, wrapping Ninjin's floppy ears around her fingers. "If you ask me, the two of you were made for each other."

Rei snorted and jabbed her in the ribs with a sharp elbow. "Only a blockhead like you would say that." She rolled onto her side, tucking an arm beneath her head as her expression grew thoughtful. "If I hadn't been so concerned with having something to do on a Sunday that didn't involve the shrine or Senshi business, I probably would have seen it sooner."

Still nettled but unable to quash her curiosity, Usagi turned to Rei. "Seen what?" she asked, hugging Ninjin to her chest.

Rei's gaze sharpened on Usagi, but she waited a beat before answering. "That Mamoru and I, as a couple, were a nonstarter. The only thing he and I had in common was you, and it's clear to me now that he was more interested in you than he ever was in me."

"Don't say that," Usagi said, rolling away. "No guy would ever prefer me over you." She frowned at Ninjin's mismatched eyes and fiddled with the frayed ribbon around his neck. "Especially not Mamoru. He hates me."

"Do you really believe that?"

Usagi's hand stilled at Rei's question. Hadn't Mamoru's actions been proof of his contempt? All the teasing comments, the sarcastic jokes, the incessant nicknames… Why would he act that way if he didn't hate her, or at the very least, dislike her? There was no other explanation, and Usagi would know if there was, because she had wracked her brain trying to come up with one. Boys like Mamoru—smart, sophisticated, good looking boys—weren't interested in girls like Usagi. All he saw when he looked at her was a silly Odango Atama. Anyone who said otherwise was fooling themselves.

"What does it matter what I believe?" Usagi muttered. "Mamoru and I are nothing to each other. I'm just a girl who bumps into him sometimes, and he's just a guy who never bothers to remember my name."

Except today. He'd remembered her name today.

The mattress shifted as Rei moved behind her. When a hand clasped her elbow, Usagi looked up with reluctance. "Even if that were the truth," Rei said, with a look that made it clear she thought otherwise, "there's more to it than that. He's not just Mamoru, he's also Tuxedo Kamen, just like you're also Sailor Moon."

"I know that!" Usagi snapped, pushing up from the pillow. She didn't need a reminder. No matter how hard she tried to forget it, the truth remained indelibly and irrevocably embedded in her psyche. Thinking about it only ever made her miserable, so why on earth would she want to talk about it? Gathering her damp, matted hair in her hands, Usagi began to comb through it with stiff fingers, ignoring the painful throbbing in her scalp as she forced her way through the many tangles.

The mattress jostled again, and a moment later a hairbrush appeared in front of her face. Her fingers stilled as she looked from the hairbrush to Rei. "If you keep on like this," Rei said with a level gaze, "you're only going to make it worse."

Her hair? Or her problems?

Usagi took the brush. Lowering her eyes to her task, she pulled the bristles through the snarled ends with distracted strokes and tried to pretend she couldn't feel Rei's gaze on her neck. Maybe if she refused to say anything else, Rei would leave. Usagi just wanted to be alone. The urge was as unfamiliar as it was overwhelming. Until recently, she had always preferred the company of others to solitude. But change had become her only constant, weaving new patterns into her reality as assiduously as the platinum strands now threading her hair.

"Every time Mamoru comes up, you get defensive and clam up," Rei said. "I assumed it was because you were worried about him, but after what happened at the mansion—" Usagi cursed as the hairbrush snagged on a knot. "Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"

Yes. "No."

"No," Rei echoed with hollow disbelief. "Usagi, ever since the ginzuishou appeared—"

Usagi clenched the brush's handle. "I don't want to talk about the ginzuishou."

Rei's brows drew together. "Why?"

"Because I'm sick of talking about it!" Usagi slammed the brush down beside her, but the thick duvet absorbed most of the impact, producing little more than a soft thunk to punctuate her outburst. "I'm sick of hearing about it, I'm sick of thinking about it. I just want to forget it exists."

Rei's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

Usagi glanced at the locket before muttering, "Because it's cursed."

Rei looked at her like she was crazy. "Cursed? What do you mean 'it's cursed'?"

"It brings nothing but bad things."

"How can you say that? It brought you your memories."

Usagi scowled. "Exactly."

Rei's mouth dropped open in a rare moment of speechlessness. "I would have thought learning about your past would make you happy."

"Why would I be happy about it?"

Rei's brow creased in confusion. "Because it means that you and Tuxedo Kamen are meant to be together," she said with enough sincerity to turn Usagi's stomach. "The two of you are soul mates."

Usagi's expression darkened in a bitter glower. "Soul mates? Why should it mean that? Why should it change anything between Mamoru and me? So what if two people that looked like us fell in love a thousand years ago? Is that supposed to suddenly erase the fact that we can't spend five seconds together without arguing?"

Rei blinked. "Two people that…what?" She leaned forward and flattened her palms on the bed. "You make it sound like Serenity and Endymion were just two random people in a story. That was you, Usagi, that was Mamoru. You were reborn so—"

"It wasn't me!" Usagi shouted. "It isn't me. I'm not a princess, I'm just Usagi. I'm always going to be Usagi. You can give me a magic wand and spout stories about ancient kingdoms until you're blue in the face, but I'm still going to be the clumsy crybaby who can't do anything right."

Though her tirade had begun with a roar, it ended with a whimper. Rei's eyes filled with sympathy…or pity. The fact that Usagi couldn't tell the difference only made her feel worse. She grabbed the brush and turned it over in her hands, examining the bristles. "I know I have to save him," she said, her tone quiet now, "but what is he going to think when all of this is over? How will I ever face him? What if he doesn't want to have anything to do with me?"

"Usagi…" Rei reached out and rested a hand on Usagi's knee. "Is that what you're worried about?" Usagi sniffed in response. "I know that you and Mamoru haven't always gotten along, but I'm sure that will change once we get him back. He's not going to turn his back on you after you save him; if anything, he's going to be grateful."

Grateful? How grateful would he be if he knew how many times Usagi had failed already? How grateful would he be if he ever found out why she'd failed?

Rei gave Usagi's knee an encouraging squeeze before releasing it. "Besides, whether or not you choose to believe it, the two of you are linked by fate. There's no getting around that."

Usagi suppressed an urge to groan. "You sound just like her."

Rei arched a brow. "Like who?"

Serenity. "Luna," Usagi lied, grabbing a thick hank of hair and plunging her brush into it. "She's always going on about fate." Usagi yanked the brush down a few inches before it got caught in another knot. "It's like the past is all that matters to her." She grunted and tried to jerk the brush free, but the harder she tugged, the more entangled the bristles became. "She couldn't care less about what I want. Argh!"

Rei shot forward and reached for the brush. "Give me that." Usagi gave the handle another stubborn shake before yielding. "You can't just yank it out," Rei said, threading her fingers into the twisted strands, "you have to be gentle." After a few seconds of effort, the brush came free. Rei climbed onto her knees and moved behind Usagi, sweeping her long mane over her shoulder so it fell down her back. "You've got enough hair for three people," Rei muttered, fanning the considerable length out over the bed. "When was the last time you got a haircut?"

Usagi had wondered the same thing this morning. "I don't remember," she replied, pulling a section of hair back over her shoulder. It was way too long now, even for her. "Maybe I should cut it all off."

Rei snorted. "That'll be the day. Why don't you start by taking enough off so you don't trip over it?" A sharp sting of pain shot through Usagi's scalp when Rei's fingers brushed over her crown, and she bobbed her head away. "Hold still," Rei said, planting a hand on her shoulder, "it's all matted in the back." When hard bristles stabbed into the inflamed skin near her crown, Usagi gave an involuntary yelp.

"What's the matter with y—" Rei's voice broke off as she parted Usagi's hair. "Usagi, what happened to your scalp? Is this bloo—"

Usagi scooted away in a flash, reaching up to rearrange her hair as she fled. "Nothing," she said, pulling her knees to her chest. "It's nothing, just—" Blue eyes, dark as midnight, flashed in her mind, restoring her chill, reawakening her terror. When a hand gripped her shoulder, she jolted. Usagi looked up into Rei's stormy violet gaze and cowered.

"Did he do that to you?"

Usagi didn't ask who Rei meant—only one man was capable of such brutality. Rei waited for a confirmation, but Usagi couldn't give her one. She wasn't ready to talk about it. She wasn't sure she ever would be.

Her silence was answer enough. Rei's nostrils flared as her gaze flitted down to Usagi's knuckles. "What else did he do?" She ran her hands down Usagi's arms without waiting for a response. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" Usagi flinched when Rei's fingers skimmed over her left knee, sending a tingle through her fresh scar. Rei pulled her hand away as if burned, and her expression went from rage to alarm. "Usagi, did he—"

"No." Though the answer was firm, emphatic, Rei's alarm didn't fade. Usagi swallowed and forced herself to reach for Rei's hand. Forced herself to offer reassurance she didn't truly feel. "No, he didn't— No."

Rei released the breath she'd been holding. "Good," she said, nodding her head. "Good." She wrapped her arms around Usagi's shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "When you disappeared with him…" Rei's embrace tightened, evoking a brief jolt of inexplicable panic within Usagi. "I thought we would never see you again."

Rei pulled back after a few moments, but she held on to Usagi's shoulders as though afraid to let go. Recalling the terror in her eyes, Usagi raised a hand and laid it on Rei's arm.

"Thank goodness you got away."

Usagi's hand fell back to the mattress. "Yeah," she said, her voice hollow, "thank goodness."

In the silence that followed, Usagi tried to find a way to expel Mamoru's haunting expression from her mind and Rei's suddenly suffocating presence from her room. She was opening her mouth to attempt the latter when Rei squeezed her shoulders.

"I need to say something."

Usagi took one look at Rei's solemn gaze and felt the familiar urge to flee. Despite that, she nodded.

"Today, during the fight. Before"—Rei swallowed—"before you disappeared." Rei's gaze hardened, transporting Usagi back to those final awful moments before Endymion had pulled her into the portal. Reminding her of Mars's appalled expression. Her disbelief. Her disappointment. "You gave up."

"I didn't—"

Rei tightened her grip on Usagi's shoulders. "I saw it, Usagi. I saw it in your eyes. You gave up."

"He was going to hurt you. What did you expect me to—"

"Fight."

A sudden knot of impotent anger rose up in Usagi's throat, threatening to choke her. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back in frustration. "I know for a second, I— I know what you're thinking, but I did fight, Rei. I didn't want to, but I did. I was scared, but I— I fought. I swear I fought."

Rei pursed her lips and gave a tight nod, but still she didn't release Usagi's shoulders. "I believe you, but I need you to promise me something."

Despite the automatic refusal that rose in her throat, Usagi asked, "What?"

"Promise me you'll always fight, Usagi. Promise me that you'll never give up. Not for me, not for the others, not for anything."

An angry tear rolled down Usagi's cheek. "That's not fair. You can't ask me to—"

Rei shook her head once. "It's not your job to save me."

Usagi glared. "Then what is my job?"

Rei gave her shoulders one last squeeze. "You know what your job is." When she let go, Usagi felt as though she had been hurled into the darkness alone for the second time that day.

Clutching the duvet in quivering hands, Usagi swallowed and forced herself to nod. "It's been a long day," she muttered, lowering her gaze. "I'm really tired."

Rei scanned her face then nodded and slid over the edge of the mattress. She paused before getting up to retrieve the star locket from the foot of the bed. When Rei looked down at the memento, Usagi briefly considered asking that she take it with her, but the words refused to come. Rei placed it back on the nightstand and said a quiet, "Good night," before leaving the room.

Usagi stared at the door long after it clicked shut. Eventually, when her eyelids began to droop, she switched off the bedside lamp and climbed under the blankets. The soft, goose-down pillow cradled her head as she reached out in the dark for Ninjin. Finding him, she pulled him to her chest, tucked him in the nook beneath her chin, and released a quiet sigh before closing her eyes.

The day had been long indeed, and Usagi was all too ready to escape into the sweet oblivion of sleep. A soft flutter in the back of her mind beckoned to her, promising comfort and sanctuary. Just as she was teetering on the edge of consciousness, about to succumb, a delicate tune began to play. Usagi's eyes snapped open at once. The locket sat open on the nightstand, casting a soft glow over the room as its haunting melody filled the air. Though she longed to snatch it, to snap it shut, to take it outside and throw it as far away as she possibly could, Usagi didn't dare reach for it.

Instead, she left it where it was and watched it play on in an endless loop for the rest of the night, not sleeping a wink.

So, this chapter was something of a must for me. While the Rei/Usagi skiing scene was a favourite of mine in the anime, I'd always hoped for more depth. I know many anime fans have opinions about the Rei/Usagi dynamic, and I get it, but I, for one, love their complicated friendship. That doesn't mean, however, that I wouldn't tweak it a little in my own fanon. 😉 Rei/Usagi, not unlike Usa/Mamo, was often very harsh without enough softer moments for balance. While I believe those softer moments happened, I would have liked to see more of them on screen. Hence this chapter.
Thank you very much for reading. I hope you're enjoying the journey.
Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.