Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Ghosts of the Past ❯ Chapter 3

Elsewhere, the subject of Shikyuu's ire was sitting in his bed chamber, stunned. Mamoru kept replaying the events in his mind. “It was real, wasn't it?” He asked himself. The discarded shirt on the floor attested to that fact. So did the lingering sensations of Fiore's mouth. Those made Mamoru feel guilty. It made him ask himself questions. What had happened shouldn't have, should it? It was wrong, wasn't it? Mamoru didn't have the answers. He still loved his people and his family. Of that much he was certain. But did he also love Fiore? He did. He knew he couldn't have both. Sitting on the floor, Mamoru realized that he was at a crossroads. He had to chose. Usagi and the peace of the world, or Fiore and peace for his heart and soul. His since of honor wouldn't allow for anything else.

 

The King didn't want to make this decision. He knew he would have to eventually, but he wasn't going to do it alone. Mamoru wanted some advice on the matter first.

 

Slowly, he got up and walked to a small box by his bedside. He could ask his guardians. The generals would know what to do. Mamoru felt reluctant to call upon them. For one, he would have Zoisite giving him all kinds of grief and the others would join right in. For another, he knew his raging libido wasn't ready for contact with a beautiful man yet. Lord knew what he would do in the presence of four such men.

 

That left one solution. Putting his shirt back on and schooling his face, the King left his rooms. He walked the hallways with a sense of propose. No one asked where he was going because there was no one in the hall. If there were, they wouldn't have had to ask. There was only one thing in this hallway. One doorway at the very end. The door itself was cloaked in shadows. Other than being ornately carved, there was nothing really spectacular about it. To the casual observer, it was just another door. To those who knew, it was not just a door, it was The Door. Beyond the woodwork, Mamoru could get his answer.

 

He pushed the door open gently. As old as it was, the hinges didn't creak. Taking a deep breath, the King stepped inside. Even prepared, the insides of the Door still surprised Mamoru. A phantom wind ruffled through his black hair. Mist clung to everything, blanketing the expanses. Never ending distance spread out in every direction, foggy, hidden, lonely. All in all, the inside of the Door of Time was a depressing place to be, even for just a minute. Mamoru couldn't even begin to imagine being stuck there for an eternity. He didn't know how she could stand it.

 

As usual, she found him. Mamoru didn't trust himself in this limbo. He could easily wonder off and get lost. But somehow, she always knew when he came. She would materialize out of the fog like some ghost. But she didn't do it this time. Mamoru jumped when he heard a soft voice behind him. “King Endymion, you look worried.”

 

Turning, he yelled. “Don't scare me like that!” Then he muttered something under his breath that ended with “put a bell on her or something.”

 

Sailor Pluto didn't smile. She rarely did. She had an almost pained expression in those garnet colored eyes. Her hand was uncharacteristically tight around the Key.

 

“I'm sorry for yelling at you.” Mamoru offered. Pluto seemed to relax a little. Mamoru could have sworn she smiled. “Really, you shouldn't go sneaking up on people. This has been my second near heart attack today.” He said, jokingly. There was just something about the pine haired senshi that kept Mamoru from being mad at her for long.

 

Serous minded as ever, the Guardian of Time cut straight to the point. “I take it that this is not a social visit.”

 

Mamoru caught her somber mood. “I have this problem...” He didn't even know how to begin.

 

Pluto tried to keep the ecstatic look off her face. King Endymion thought so much of her that he had entrusted her to help him. She was going to help him. It was the least she could do. Her spirits started to fall when the King continued.

 

“I think I'm in love with somebody. Somebody other than Usagi.”

 

Pluto nodded slowly. Her look said everything. It said, “I knew this was going to happen. I wish I could have warned you, but that's not how things work.” She let Mamoru continue. As he talked out his problems, Pluto wanted to retreat back into the mists. Instead, she stayed and listened and hoped that the someone her King was referring to was herself.

 

“I can't stay here without love. I know Usagi and I don't love each other as we once did. If we remain together any longer, we will begin to really hate each other. If I leave to be with my love, it would split the country. Leaving might start what happened during the Silver Millennium. I don't know if I can risk war, just to be with him. I don't know what to do. What would you do?”

 

Mamoru was oblivious to the shattering of Sailor Pluto's hopes. Her face was impassive and her eyes were blank. In her head, she was crying. Him? Why? Why couldn't it have just been her? If it had been, she would have gladly abandoned her post. That's why it hurt so much to tell the King the truth. Because the truth would mean she might never see him again. She forced herself to answer. “Endymion, if you truly love this man with all your heart, you are doing yourself a disservice by not being with him. I'm sure if you tried, you and Neo Queen Serenity could create some sort of agreement. One that would insure peace.”

 

Mamoru smiled. He was glad he had come to Pluto. She hadn't made fun of him even once this entire time. She had also given his the answer he had secretly wanted to hear all along. “Thank you, Setsuna-san.” He said, hugging her lightly.

 

Pluto fought not to cry as she stiffly hugged him back. It had been a long time since someone had used her real name. It hurt to know the one who used it didn't love her the way she loved him. “Anytime, Mamoru-kun. Anytime.” Then she vanished back into the swirling mists to leave Mamoru in thought.

 

Mamoru didn't linger long. Even buoyed by his solution, the place was depressing. As quickly as he had entered, he left, closing the door softly behind him. He swore he heard the soft sound of a woman crying before the door shut all the way. He chalked it up to his imagination and returned to his rooms to inform his generals what had happened.