CHAPTER FIFTEEN

She was tired. So. Very. Tired.

Monday morning arrived right on time, ushering in the new week with all the usual fanfare. Chirping birds, sunny skies, and the fragrant aromas of fresh coffee and good cooking. Tsukino Ikuko bustled around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for her family as she always did. Tsukino Kenji sat at the table, reading the morning newspaper as he always did. Tsukino Shingo lounged in front of the TV, ignoring his mother's calls to the table as he always did. And Tsukino Usagi staggered into the kitchen at precisely seven o'clock as she…well, as she never did.

No one looked up when she plopped herself down in Shingo's spot—her mother had stopped setting a place for her years ago—and Usagi made no effort to announce her arrival. She stared at the black and white photo dominating the front page of her father's newspaper, studying the grainy image of Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus with bleary-eyed disinterest until a steaming plate appeared in front of her. Before she could reach for it, a startled squeak pierced the air. The plate clattered down on the table, spilling contents everywhere. Usagi frowned and retrieved a piece of toast from her lap then looked up to find her father staring at her with unconcealed shock.

When a hand clamped down over her forehead, pulling her back in her chair, Usagi didn't resist. When Shingo arrived at the table and asked if she was sick, Usagi didn't respond. When her father set down his paper and muttered something about weekend study sessions, Usagi didn't react. And when her mother let go of her forehead and ordered her back upstairs, Usagi didn't argue. She got up from the table without a word, left the kitchen, and trudged back up to her bedroom even though it was the very last place she wanted to be.

Usagi wasn't sick, she just hadn't slept in the past forty-eight hours, and the lack of rest was doing strange things to her brain. She couldn't focus, couldn't see straight, couldn't perform even the simplest of tasks without a struggle. It took several seconds of fumbling with the knob before the door to her bedroom finally yielded, and when she slumped against the other side, Usagi took one look at her bed and wanted to cry. Though the soft, untouched sheets beckoned her from across the room, enticing her with the promise of sweet, blissful slumber, she resisted their siren call and made her way over to the small mirror that hung above her bookshelf instead.

A ghoul stared back at her.

Dark shadows stretched beneath her eyes, accentuating her puffy lids and wan complexion. Her skin was dull and drawn; her hollow, colourless cheeks pulled taut over high cheekbones. Sloppy, lopsided buns drooped on either side of her head like two half-melted scoops of ice cream. Usagi reached up and pulled the pins from one side, letting the hair spill down her back. The asymmetrical portrait framed in the mirror appeared dazed and haunted. The bloodshot eyes cried out for rest.

But Usagi could not sleep.

No, that wasn't true. In all likelihood, were she to close her eyes right then, she would no doubt fall asleep where she stood. No, Usagi would not sleep, because if she slept, she would dream, and she was done with dreams. Done with dreams and, more specifically, the princess who plagued them. Usagi had no desire to see Serenity again, so until she could figure out a way to sleep without dreaming of the princess, Usagi was determined to stay awake.

Admittedly, as far as plans went, this one was pretty thin. Sleep was one of Usagi's favourite pastimes, and two full days without it had made her keenly aware of how much she took it for granted. How long a could a person go without sleeping? Ami would probably know, but asking her would only lead to more questions. Not that silence would save Usagi; she'd already shocked her family with her haggard appearance. As soon as the Senshi saw her they'd start in again—pushing her, prodding her, pressing her for answers. Answers she didn't have. Answers she couldn't give.

Why couldn't they all just give her some space?

Luna's face flashed in her mind. The cat had been waiting for her when Usagi had returned home yesterday, but the sleepless night and long train ride had left Usagi in a foul temper. When she'd answered Luna's smiling greeting with a surly grunt, the feline had been rightly offended. After suffering an hour of Usagi's volatile mood, Luna had left her alone to stew in her own juices. She had yet to return. Usagi didn't blame her.

She didn't know how to talk to Luna any more than she knew how to talk to the Senshi. Every time she tried, something held her back. Fear, shame…youma attacks. The longer Usagi held on to her secrets, the harder it became to part with them. What would they say when she told them about her dreams? Would they listen? What would they think when she told them about Serenity and her treachery? Would they believe her? What would they do when she told them Serenity couldn't be trusted? Would they stop trusting Usagi instead?

She'd been hiding the truth—she'd been lying—for weeks now.

She'd justified it at first by telling herself that it was all temporary. That this business with Serenity was just a minor blip and nothing more. But the dreams had grown more and more frequent, solidifying Serenity's presence with each passing day. It was time to admit that these sojourns in her subconscious weren't harmless trips down memory lane—they were changing her. Usagi had denied it as long as she could, telling herself that the snug clothes were simple laundry mishaps. That the platinum hair was a result of stress, and the increase in length was just a reminder that she was overdue for a haircut. The newly sharpened angles of her face? Mere proof that time, as ever, was marching onward.

But somewhere in the last forty eight hours, reality had sunk in. This wasn't coincidence, it was the cruel, grasping hands of fate. Serenity, Luna, Rei…they'd all been right—fate had sunk its claws into Usagi months ago, and it had no intentions of letting go. The Usagi who had idolized superheroes and fantasized about being a princess was gone. Fantasy had become reality. Dreams had turned to nightmares. Fate had stolen any chance she'd had of living a normal life by setting her on a one way path with no detours. Only one question remained: who would be the one left standing at the end?

Usagi? Or Serenity?

If the past two weeks had made anything clear, it was that three personas couldn't co-exist within one tiny body. Sailor Moon would have to stay—her power would be needed in the battle ahead, but who would don the heavy mantle? Two candidates vied for the title, but only one could wear the tiara. Though Usagi had longed for an out since day one, this wasn't the exit strategy she'd envisioned. If Serenity won, there would be no going back to life as usual. Usagi would be gone. Forever.

A life of duty was better than no life at all. Wasn't it?

The door opened, startling Usagi from her anxious thoughts. She turned and found her mother frowning at her from the doorway. "I thought I told you to get back in bed."

"I can't sleep," Usagi said. It wasn't precisely a lie.

Her mother stepped into the room and sighed before closing the door. "Your friend Ami was just here. I told her you weren't feeling well—that you'd be spending the day at home."

Usagi bowed her head. "Thank you, Mama."

"I asked her if she was feeling all right," her mother added, drawing a puzzled look from Usagi, "seeing as how the two of you spent the weekend together studying. She said she was fine." Usagi nodded but said nothing as her mother crossed the room. "While I'm pleased to see you applying yourself to your studies, I'm worried that these group sessions of yours are taking a toll. Perhaps you girls need a bit of a break."

Usagi shifted back on her heels when her mother raised a hand to cup her cheek. "I've never seen you look this tired." Her mother's lovely face creased with concern before a wry smile lightened her expression. "And that's saying something." Usagi forced a weak laugh as her mother nudged her shoulder. "Come on, back to bed. There's nothing a good sleep can't fix."

Usagi stared at the forbidden furniture in desperation, mind aching with exhaustion, heart pulsating with fear. She couldn't sleep, couldn't risk losing any more of herself to Serenity, but she was so tired. She looked to her mother, who was busy retrieving a pair of fresh pyjamas from the dresser, and felt her lips part. Felt heat prick her eyes and a lump rise in her throat as words formed on her tongue. "Mama."

Her mother looked up at once, instantly alert, while Usagi froze, arrested by the tininess of her own voice. She sounded like a child.

"Will you—" Help me. Protect me. Save me.

Her mother set the pyjamas down and reached for her, threading her fingers into the loose hair behind Usagi's left ear. "What, Usa-chan?"

Tears rose up on a swell of weakness, and though she longed to break upon the sturdy shores of her mother's love, Usagi lowered her head and swallowed her childish plea. She was tired. She was upset. But she wasn't a child. Not anymore. When her mother's fingers curled in her hair, Usagi blinked and looked up into the face she knew so well—the face that looked nothing like her own—and smiled.

"Will you brush my hair, Mama?"

For a moment, her mother seemed not to hear her. For a moment, Usagi worried that she'd said something wrong, done something wrong, but then the deep furrow in her mother's brow eased, and a slow, soft smile stretched across her face. Usagi beamed, not because of the capitulation in her mother's gaze but rather the familiarity in her smile. It was a smile meant for her and her alone. Not for Sailor Moon, not for Serenity, but for Usagi. Just Usagi. It was a smile she wouldn't share, wouldn't trade, for anything in the world.

It was a smile worth fighting for.

Her grin only grew when her mother rolled her eyes and steered her toward the bed, grabbing a brush on the way. Usagi plunked down on the mattress without hesitation, forgetting her fear in the giddy rush of her momentary high. Her mother sat down behind her and angled her shoulders a touch to the right before pulling the pins from her remaining bun. Hair swept down past her shoulder like a heavy curtain. Before Usagi could push it away, her mother gathered it in practised hands and drew it back, trailing her fingertips against the sides of Usagi's neck as she did so.

Usagi drew in a breath as tingles ran down her spine, and it wasn't until she felt the first gentle prickle of bristles against her scalp that she exhaled. Just two days ago this had been excruciating, but now—now it felt divine. The surface trauma from her terrifying tussle with Endymion had healed swiftly, allowing her to luxuriate in the tender ministrations of a much gentler touch. The deeper wounds would linger, but the pain they caused was less intense, more bearable. Especially with the right distraction.

For Usagi, having someone brush her hair had always been the best kind of distraction. One stroke was all it took to transport her to paradise.

She couldn't remember the last time her mother had brushed her hair. Years ago, most likely, when she'd still been little. Back then it had been a daily ritual. Every night before Usagi went to sleep, her mother would come into her room and brush out her long locks. Sometimes she would tell Usagi a story, other times she'd listen while Usagi jabbered on about one thing or another. It had been their special time, just the two of them. A time when life had been slower, simpler—a time before homework and hormones and heartache.

Comforted by old memories and the blissful feeling of her mother's deft hands in her hair, Usagi felt the tension in her shoulders ease. Felt the troubled thoughts burdening her mind float away. Felt the weight of her exhaustion drag her eyelids downward. She had lasted two whole days, but at this rate, she'd be asleep in a matter of seconds.

"Your hair's gotten awfully long. I think it's time for a cut." Usagi gave her head a shake and attempted a drowsy nod as her mother tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. "I saw an ad for a new salon in the paper this morning. They're offering free services today for their grand opening." The mattress shifted when her mother stood up, and Usagi looked up through bleary eyes. "Get some sleep," her mother said, laying a palm atop her head, "and if you feel better this afternoon, we can go and get our hair done."

Usagi opened her mouth to suggest they go now, but all she managed to do was mumble an unintelligible reply as her mother slipped out of the room. Usagi stared at the door for several seconds, willing herself to rise, to follow, to escape sleep's seductive snare. Instead, she let herself fall, let her head hit the pillow, let her limbs go lax and her mind go quiet. The battle was lost, the fight was over, all she could do now was submit to her body's weakness and hope that her mind was made of stronger stuff.

The barren room was supremely still—quiet enough for Usagi to hear the light rhythm of her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She studied the chamber with muted curiosity, recognizing nothing yet sensing she'd been here before. The floor, polished to a mirror shine, was fashioned from a seamless expanse of exquisite white marble, and the walls, crafted of translucent blue quartz, stretched up at least twenty feet to a domed ceiling of gleaming glass. Ornate sconces placed strategically along the walls cast cool light upon the many reflective surfaces, creating an aura of subdued tranquillity.

Standing at the centre of the chamber was a large crystal obelisk. Several feet wide and at least twice Usagi's height, it glowed with an eerie white light, and despite the uneasy feeling that rose in her gut, Usagi felt an undeniable pull toward the pillar. She approached with caution, coming to a halt when she stood little more than an arm's length away. Closer now, she noted the unusual runes etched upon its surface and reached out to trace the lines of one of the mysterious markings with a curious fingertip.

"Careful."

Usagi snatched her hand back and whirled around to find Serenity standing less than ten paces away. Usagi skittered backwards, eager to put as much distance between herself and the princess as possible. "Stay away from me," she said, pointing a shaky finger as she retreated. "You hear me? I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you. Just go away." When she felt a wall at her back, she looked left and right, but the only exit in sight lay beyond her foe.

Serenity pursed her lips in a frown but made no attempt to approach, and instead looked on in silence. Loathe to meet that infuriatingly identical gaze, Usagi closed her eyes and willed herself to wake up. To leave this place. To flee this dream before it became a nightmare. She grabbed the skin on her forearm and gave it a savage pinch.

"You can try," Serenity said, reading her intent, "but I fear you will not succeed. Your slumber is deep, and you are sorely in need of rest."

"Then why don't you leave me alone and let me rest in peace?" Usagi snapped, her shrill demand echoing throughout the chamber.

Serenity sighed. "You are upset with me again."

"You think?" Usagi snarled.

Serenity clasped her hands in front of her and dipped her chin toward the floor. "I assume that you are unhappy about the events that transpired—"

"Unhappy?" Fury overrode Usagi's caution, driving her to march up to Serenity and point a finger in her face. "Unhappy doesn't even begin to describe it. You— you—" she stammered, searching for the right words, "you possessed me! Again! Do you have any idea how it feels to be a prisoner inside your own body while someone else is in control?"

Serenity eyed the outstretched finger with mild distaste before meeting Usagi's fierce gaze. "Yes," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact I do."

Usagi's simmering rage boiled over, heating her cheeks and tinting her vision. "This is my body, my mind, my life, not yours! I won't just step aside and let you erase me!"

Serenity blanched and sucked in a sharp breath. "Is that what you think? That I'm trying to…usurp you?"

Unsure of what usurp meant but too angry to ask, Usagi gave a vehement nod. "I know it! And I won't let you do it. I'll fight you with every last breath if I have to." Adrenaline coursed through her veins, accelerating her heartbeat and slicking her palms with sweat. Wiping her hands against her hips, she drew in a steadying breath and held it, trying to calm her racing heart.

Serenity, meanwhile, donned the forlorn expression of a wounded doe. "You see me as a threat," she said, her voice bruised, "but truly, I mean you no harm. I did not act for myself, I did it for you. To help you." She looked away. "I admit, things did not go quite as I had planned."

Usagi choked back a harsh laugh. "That's all you have to say to me? After what you did?"

"I understand that you are angry, but—"

"You don't understand anything," Usagi said, stabbing a finger into the pale skin below Serenity's left collarbone. "You hijacked me in the middle of a kidnapping so you could bat your eyelashes at your old boyfriend!"

"That was not my intent," Serenity replied, face flushing. She lowered her gaze and rubbed the spot where Usagi had poked her. "In retrospect, I see that my actions were somewhat rash. I did not think—"

"No, you didn't think. You just decided that I couldn't handle the situation and took over." Usagi shook her head and scowled. "Your stupid power play nearly cost us everything, and if you think I'm going to let you do it again, you're dead wrong."

Serenity's nostrils flared as she squared her shoulders. "I acted because you would not."

"Oh no, you don't," Usagi said, crossing her arms. "You're not blaming this on me. This was all you."

Serenity's delicate features twisted in indignation. "Your fear to let yourself be vulnerable, your fear of rejection, is holding you back. I would not have been compelled to act in your stead, had you not been so afraid to let down your guard."

Usagi gaped, incredulous. "Let my guard down? What, like you? You were so busy professing your undying love that you nearly handed over the ginzuishou! I told you not to trust him, I told you it wouldn't work, but you didn't listen, and you could have gotten us both killed."

"You needn't remind me of my failure," Serenity said, averting her gaze, "its sting has not left me, and I doubt it shall for some time." She swallowed and waited several beats before speaking again. "Even so"—her eyes returned to Usagi's face—"my lack of success should not deter you from making your own appeal. If you would only set aside your fear long enough to look into your heart, I think you would see that vulnerability can be a strength, not a weakness."

Usagi raised her chin. "There you go again, thinking you know better than me, but my caution helped me see the threat that you missed. I saved you from making a huge mistake." She paused, holding Serenity's gaze, straightening her spine. "Call me a coward if you want, but at least I'm not blinded by love."

"No," Serenity said with a frown, "you are blinded by fear." She stepped forward to reach for one of Usagi's hands, but Usagi withdrew and Serenity's shoulders drooped. "There was a moment when you allowed your guard to slip," she said, "and you were given a brief glimpse of the power you hold. Not in magic or a crystal, but in your heart." When Usagi flinched and looked away, Serenity gave a knowing nod. "The truth is staring you in the face, and still you seek to hide from it. So long as you cling to your fear, you will never understand how powerful true love can be."

Usagi bristled. "You act like you know everything, but what has true love ever done for you except cause pain?" When pity, not regret, flashed in Serenity's eyes, a surge of resentment rushed through Usagi, unleashing bitter thoughts. "If love is the answer, how come yours wasn't powerful enough to save him?"

The low blow hit hard, causing Serenity's expression to run the gamut from shock to hurt to frustration. "You really are just a silly child," she said when she recovered her voice. "From the beginning, all I have sought to do is give you the benefit of my experience, yet you have done nothing but spurn my aid."

Usagi turned away, furious at having been called a child once again. "I don't need your help."

Serenity strode forward, placing herself in Usagi's line of sight. "Of course you do. You are travelling down a path fraught with peril. If you journey forth unprepared, I fear you will not succeed."

Though Usagi shared a similar fear, she had no intention of admitting it. "I know what I'm doing," she lied.

Serenity's eyes flashed before her expression hardened, but Usagi stood firm in the face of her displeasure. There was nothing Serenity could say, nothing she could do, to sway Usagi now. The princess had shown her true colours, and if she thought Usagi was going to forget it all and fall for her tricks a third time, then she was sorely mistaken. Usagi was a Sailor Senshi, Serenity didn't stand a chance—

Hands clamped around her head like a vice, and Usagi jolted in surprise as Serenity brought the two of them nose to nose. "You have given me no other choice." Serenity's resigned tone sent a chill running down Usagi's spine. Closing the gap between them, Serenity pressed their foreheads together, and the world exploded in a blinding flash of brilliant white light.

When the light dimmed, Usagi was still in the room but Serenity had disappeared. Relief coursed through her as she turned toward the crystal obelisk. As before, she stretched out an arm to touch one of the runes etched into the glimmering surface.

"Princess!"

Startled by the sharp cry, she spun toward the voice. Sailor Venus stood at the room's entrance, glowering with disapproval. Usagi blinked in astonishment. What was Venus doing here? When she opened her mouth to ask, unexpected words spilled from her lips. "Venus, I didn't think you were on sentry duty tonight."

Usagi's heart dropped as the truth sank in. Serenity hadn't disappeared, Usagi had.

"I'm not," Venus replied, frowning, "but I know you too well, your Highness." Venus approached, eyes narrowing when Serenity took a wary step backwards. Her gaze darted between Serenity and the obelisk. "I can no longer allow this to go on in good conscience," she said, shaking her head. "The threat is real, as is the danger. You cannot continue to take such risks." Her cornflower blue eyes softened. "If anything were to happen to you…"

"I know what I'm doing." The familiar words spilled out of Serenity's mouth in the exact same tone Usagi had delivered them minutes before. Firsthand knowledge of the princess's psyche revealed that they were equally lacking in conviction.

"I understand your fondness for the Prince—"

"I love him!"

Venus's face twitched—Usagi suspected she was struggling to suppress an eye roll—before she raised a hand. "I know it feels that way now, but you are still very young and there will be other men. Ones who are more suitable—"

"What do you know?" Serenity interrupted. "You are supposed to be the Senshi of love, but all you care about is duty." Venus flinched, inspiring a pang of sympathy within Usagi's breast. "Haven't you ever wanted more than this?"

Though Venus's stoic expression spoke volumes, she answered anyway. "I was born to protect you. Your safety is all that I desire in this life."

While the robotic reply made Usagi's heart ache, it only served to strengthen Serenity's resolve. "I desire more," Serenity whispered before reaching out and pressing her fingers to the rune. Venus's dismayed cry rang in her ears as the world swirled around her.

In the next moment, Serenity was running down a grassy path straight into Endymion's waiting embrace. As Serenity melted against him, Usagi tried to separate the princess's intense emotions from her own. The Endymion Usagi knew was ruthless, intimidating, and unpredictable. She was now trapped in the body of a girl who worshipped him, and the dichotomous view was disorienting to say the least.

Endymion took a step back and looked down. "I expected you sooner."

"Venus waylaid me," Serenity replied with a grimace. "Harping on about the dangers again. She is such a bore."

Endymion's eyes twinkled but his mouth curved in a disapproving frown. "Bore or no, she is right. The rebels have grown bold of late. I fear this will have to be our last meeting for a while." When Serenity pouted, he squeezed her shoulders and pressed a gentle finger to her lips. "We have delayed this long enough. I have ignored my better judgement by allowing my feelings to take precedence over your safety. Until this threat is quashed, we must part ways."

"Everyone is concerned for my safety," Serenity muttered, turning her eyes to the limestone path beneath their feet, "but no one cares what I want."

Usagi considered Serenity's words, discomfited by the familiar feelings of frustration running through her. Light fingers touched her chin, tilting her face up so that she was looking into Endymion's gentle gaze. His considerate, tender care was so unlike the brutal treatment of his dark counterpart. If the Endymion in her reality were to treat her this way, would Usagi be as spellbound as Serenity?

"I would move heaven and earth to give you what you desire," Endymion said, "and that is why I will do everything in my power to suppress this rebellion." Serenity's vision blurred with tears before Endymion drew her into his arms. Cradled against his chest, Usagi marvelled at the soothing comfort of his embrace. "If you and I are to have any chance at a future together, then there is no other choice. You know that as well as I."

Serenity turned her head to the side and pressed her cheek against the fine wool of his garment. "I know," she said, tracing a finger down the line of his sleeve. "It's only that…before I met you, my life was so bland, so monotonous. Everything was planned—my entire life had been decided before I was even born." Serenity drew back in order to look up at him. "Then I met you, and it all changed in an instant. The future was suddenly full of new possibility."

Serenity lowered her gaze before a tear slid down her cheek. "How can I go back to the way things were now that I know how much better life can be? How will I get through each day without knowing when I might see you again?" She looked up despite the tears streaming down her face. "I love you, Endymion, how can you expect me to live without you?"

Endymion's eyes shone bright with feeling, and as Serenity's heart swelled in response, Usagi couldn't help but wonder: would a boy ever look at her that way? If so, would she feel as Serenity felt now? It was difficult to parse through the multitude of emotions coursing through the princess as she gazed up at her prince; elation, sadness, fear, longing, hope…and doubt. Usagi could scarcely separate one feeling from the next, so intertwined were they, but one sentiment, above all, dwarfed the rest: pure, unadulterated devotion.

Serenity's heart belonged to Endymion in a way Usagi hadn't fully understood until this moment. The knowledge was as touching as it was terrifying. In giving her heart so completely, Serenity had literally tied her fate to one man.

When Endymion cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head to capture Serenity's waiting lips in a tender kiss, Usagi breathed a sigh of relief. She was more than ready to wake up. But when the world didn't dissolve, when her lids fluttered closed, and the foreign sensation of lips pressed against hers, Usagi's mind lit with panic. Why was she still here, witnessing—experiencing—this intimate moment? She tried to open her eyes, to pull away, but she was blind and powerless, forced to bear witness like some sort of reluctant voyeur. Afraid and ashamed of her rising curiosity, Usagi stumbled back against the invisible wall of her prison.

Sight returned in an instant, but she was no longer standing in Endymion's arms. Instead, she was staring up into Mamoru's mocking gaze. He stood in front of her, holding up a crinkled exam paper, spouting judgement and reminding her of her many faults. Usagi squeezed her eyes shut to block him out, but then the lips were back, trailing a feverish line of butterfly kisses along her cheek, past her jawline, down her neck.

Gasping, she opened her eyes and found Tuxedo Kamen standing opposite her, flourishing a rose in one hand and offering a smile of encouragement. His nonthreatening presence filled Usagi with ease, calming her racing heart. She reached out to accept the rose, but as soon as she touched the velvety petals, they dissolved into bare skin beneath her fingers, hot and smooth and pulsating with a strong heartbeat.

Fear returned as warm fluid began to seep out from under her hand. Usagi looked down in horror as blood oozed out beyond her fingertips, staining the crisp white linen shirt. She pressed her other hand against the wound in an attempt to stem the flow, but there was no stopping it. She had waited too long, he was already gone. Unwilling to watch the painful scene unfold again, she choked back a sob and threw herself upon him. Hands ran across her back, along her neck, up into her hair. Her buns came free, loosing her hair in a cascade of wild silk. Sweet caresses stroked her skin as tender words filled her ears.

Lost in a maze of shifting sensations, Usagi searched for a way out. She pushed up and away from the body pressed against her then staggered back into another. Strong arms locked around her, pulling her in, crushing her against a hard chest. Terror seized her heart, and she struggled to break free, calling out a name in protest. In desperation. In prayer. The arms released her, and Usagi fell to her knees before turning to face her tormentor.

Mamoru stared at her, this time with a look of pleading. He was also down on his knees and his lips were moving, but Usagi didn't know what he was saying. When she leaned toward him, trying to understand, he raised a hand to her cheek. She froze, arrested by his imploring gaze. As she opened her mouth to ask him what he needed, Mamoru's arms closed around her in a desperate embrace, bringing them together, chest to chest, heart to heart. He clung to Usagi like a drowning man, drawing her deeper into the maelstrom of his distress.

Usagi couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think as Mamoru pulled her closer, infusing her with that intense, familiar heat, merging them together as one. A long forgotten ache deep within her breast flared, Usagi cried out, and the walls of her prison shattered.

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