Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Heartless Angel ❯ Downtime ( Chapter 4 )

4. Downtime

 

“So this is the Keybearer?”

 

Sephiroth nodded, his arms solemnly crossed. His singular, sweeping black wing shifted languidly, feathers rustling together against his back. The circular chamber in which they stood was barely illuminated at all, only dimly lit by the distant sconces embedded in the walls. The flames within, already sickly and wan, were further obscured by the fact that their glass facades had not been dusted in an age and a half. The shadows could easily withstand the light, but it was in darkness that they truly thrived.

 

The significance of the lighting, however, was that it partially concealed the figure standing before them, its outline only vaguely distinguishable. The soft light from the sconces illuminated (and accentuated) soft, distinctly feminine curves; long, mostly-bare legs and the vaguest hints of a short, ruffled skirt. However, they failed to illuminate anything further. There was one thing, though, that the darkness itself seemed determined to draw to their attention, gathering and swirling around the vaguest shape dangling from her right hand. It appeared, on close observation…to be a key, a single massive key nearly three feet in length, cradled by a handle built into its base, the teeth at its head gnarled and twisted like the crown of some dead tree.

 

The smaller silhouette by Sephiroth's side lifted a single hand, slowly, as though to touch the feminine figure's cheek. “She's beautiful…”

 

“Don't bother,” Sephiroth intoned, without much urgency.

 

His companion's hand had already completed its journey, fingertips lightly touching the side of the girl's face, earning no response. Her dead black eyes, the distant flames of the wall sconces glittering in them like dying stars, stared blankly ahead without taking notice of either of them. The shorter figure glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Dead?” But that couldn't be; despite her frozen expression, she stood upright perfectly well of her own volition.

 

“Her heart has been swallowed by the Darkness.” Sephiroth shrugged, profoundly unconcerned. “The Heartless consumed her heart without much struggle; she practically gave it to them.”

 

“…then she's ours?” Sephiroth's associate turned to face the Keybearer again, gazing down at the great Key in her hand.

 

“That's right.” This time, there was an audible smirk in the dark swordsman's voice. “The Key is ours. All that remains is to find the Keyhole.”

 

“It wasn't in the Palace, then?”

 

“Not in the most obvious location, the Silver Crystal's chamber, to be sure.” Sephiroth exhaled derisively through his nostrils. “Theoretically the Crystal itself could be used to pinpoint the Keyhole's location, but it's useless to us.”

 

“One thing at a time, Sephiroth. We must be patient. All will come to us in time, my friend.” The shorter figure slowly raised his right hand before his face, fingers slowly curling one by one into a fist with subtle creaks of his glove. Slowly, a shape began to burn itself into visibility through the glove, glowing so brightly as to shine directly through the leather. A rough-edged, stylized depiction of a hooded figure, cradling a scythe in its arms whose sweeping blade curved over its cowl. “The Soul Eater will ensure it.”

 

- - -

 

“So…so that's it, then? You just…bring him out here for me to see, give him his sword back, interrogate him and shoo him off on his way?”

 

Sailor Venus was not happy. And she was making her displeasure indubitably known to the gathered Sailor Soldiers and Queen.

 

“Venus, he doesn't remember anything beyond the present,” Mercury struggled to placate her, sitting forward in her chair.

 

“How can you be sure?” Though Venus' tone was firm, there was doubt in her eyes. He hadn't seemed to react much to her at all, beyond his understandable confusion.

 

“Any number of things,” Neptune supplied, her fingers still steepled in thought. “Foremost, his state of shock. Further, his lack of recognition. The only thing that seemed to stir a spark in him was his name.”

 

Venus sagged back in her chair, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She couldn't argue with the logic, though that wouldn't stop her from addressing him on it directly, once she got the chance.

 

“Come on, V, you remember how it was for the rest of us, don't you?” Mars asked, allowing the formalities to fall now that the Sailor Soldiers were the only ones present. “It takes time, and it doesn't come all at once. Otherwise his head would explode.” She attempted a small, whimsical smile, and it seemed to make some limited progress in soothing her friend's feelings.

 

The Princess, still adorned in her Sailor Moon raiment, gazed up at her mother with confused eyes. “I don't understand. Who was that man? How did you all know him?”

 

“It was a very long time ago, Small Lady,” Jupiter supplied, speaking for the first time since the start of the gathering, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes at the Princess' good-natured glare—the pastel-haired heiress to the throne felt that she had long since grown past that nickname. “But it was after the last of your training-visits to the past. I don't believe you ever got to meet him.”

 

“What?” Moon's crimson eyes were wide. “He's that old?” Her gaze turned to the door with disbelief.

 

She managed somehow not to glare at all the half-amused, half-indulgent glances that were exchanged, though she did glower halfheartedly at her friend Saturn's soft laugh. It wasn't her fault that everybody spoke in riddles around the Palace half the time.

 

“Ask me later this evening, dear, and I will explain.” The Queen fondly touched her cheek, placating her, and then turned her regal blue eyes to the gathering at hand. “We have a name for our enemy now. Though it may seem small knowledge, it is in fact a large step; seldom are we given a name for our enemies so quickly.”

 

Saturn seemed to shift in her chair, uncomfortably, but no one but the Princess appeared to notice.

 

“Perhaps we should adjourn this gathering to give each of us time to think,” the Queen continued. “My friends, your insight and information is always welcome—do not hesitate, any of you, if even the slightest notion comes to your heads in regards to this…Sephiroth. Regardless how significant you feel it is, any piece of knowledge or theory about a new enemy must be open to consideration.”

 

One by one the chairs began to empty, their occupants rising at their own pace to file out of the chamber singly or in pairs. The Queen gently urged her daughter (who had gathered up the sleeping Diana in her arms) to go with a little nudge to her shoulder, but when Venus began to rise, Serenity stopped her with a significant look. The golden-haired Soldier eased back into her chair, frowning.

 

Once the chamber was empty save for the two, even the pair of cats having vacated hot on the heels of the last Soldier, the Queen addressed her friend—and once, an age and then some ago, her idol—without meeting the other pair of blue eyes.

 

“I imagine you have some choice words for me.”

 

Venus didn't look at her either, arms draped on the arm-rests of her chair, her gaze fixated on the wall beyond the row of chairs facing her. “I thought I would. Can't remember any of them, though.”

 

“Venus…Minako,” Serenity's use of her given name drew the Soldier's eyes to her, “I stand by my actions; I do not feel they were uncalled for. However…” The two eyes met, gauging one another, almost like two fencers lining up, waiting for the other to move…or call a truce. “…I apologize for any hurt they may have caused you. You had to see him, though, to confirm in fact that it was him. Your memory of him is the clearest. But if we had told you that we even suspected, beforehand…”

 

Venus nodded, slowly. “It might have tainted my judgment. I might have looked too hard and seen features that weren't there. You did the right thing, Usagi. I'm…sorry for what I said, earlier.”

 

Her Queen's features melted into a smile, whose infectious quality spread to her own face. The two women sighed, the tension leaving their shoulders with the breath, but neither moved from their chairs for awhile.

 

“…he really hasn't changed, has he?” Neo-Queen Serenity quirked a wry half-smile, glancing to the nick in the flooring.

 

“Actually, he has…” Venus murmured with a frown, rubbing her gloved hands together. At her liege's questioning gaze, she spoke without looking up from her hands. “That is to say…well, I suppose he hasn't. He had changed. Before. But now he's a lot like he was at first. Brash, arrogant…probably a complete jerk. At least, as Luminaire. I don't know why it seems to change him so much.”

 

“Probably for the same reasons our powers seem to change us. We are all of us more confident, more free of inhibition, when transformed.” Wisely, the Queen made no mention of some of her…conduct, during her earliest battles, though she lightly skimmed the surface with her next words. “Though our…core selves remain the same, the powers and identities bestowed by transformation bring out a side in us that knows no fear, in combat or socially.”

 

“None of us ever acted like that, though. Luminaire was always a cocky, self-centered blowhard—at least, at first.”

 

“He was a young man, no older than the rest of us. There's a fundamental difference between the mentality of young boys and young girls. However, I think that he may not suffer from precisely the same…personality quirks, now. The circumstances of his life, and the bequeathing of his power, are vastly different than before.”

 

Venus sighed, looking toward the door again. “Why did you just send him out? Why not explain? I'm sure he must be confused, if he really doesn't remember anything at all.”

 

The Queen's gaze followed hers. “Because he must learn for himself. Minako, we can't mold him into the exact image of the person he once was. He has to forge his own life and his own personality. If it happens that somewhere along the line, he ends up remembering who and what he was, becoming the person you…knew, then there is no doubt in my mind things will work out for you again.”

 

“…and if not?” There was a note of helplessness in Venus' tone.

 

“Stop that. It isn't like you to be so negative. What's important is that we've found him, and right at the beginning of what may well bloom into another war. We will need all the capable hands we can muster.”

 

“You're right.” Venus smiled, radiantly, at her old friend. “Thanks, Usagi.” Rising from her chair, she made as if to follow the other Sailor Soldiers at last…but paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Say, doesn't the King arrive today?”

 

A smile, no less than adoring, crept over the Queen's often austere expression. “Yes. I should make ready to greet him.”

 

“Come on.” Venus extended a hand for her, still smiling. “I'll help you pick something out.”

 

Serenity—No, Usagi Tsukino—accepted her old friend's hand and allowed herself to be drawn from her chair. “Thanks, Minako.”

 

“What are friends for, after all, if not to help you drop jaws?”

 

- - -

 

Alex had only just reached the door to his room in the barracks when the first episode hit him.

His knees buckled, he pitched forward as his limp fingers slipped from the doorknob, his forehead thumping painfully against the oaken surface set within its crystalline frame. Oddly enough, the fingers of his left hand, still clutching the sheath of the ceremonial sword, tightened their grip rather than losing it.

 

Images, sounds, sensations flashed in his head, heedless of his closed eyes. Visions of his hands, sheathed in gold-trimmed white gauntlets, power blazing through them, strength suffusing his arms. Wind rushing past his ears, whipping through his hair as he vaulted through the air, unaided by plane or glider, unimpeded by gravity. Faces, familiar faces, rushed by like a slide-show…though they shouldn't have been familiar, not in the sense he felt he knew them.

 

Faces of the Sailor Soldiers—some of them, at least, including the Queen herself in the unmistakable uniform of Sailor Moon—only…younger, barely more than children, like the Princess herself had been. The expressions varied; anger, accusation, smiling good humor, whimsical jesting.

 

The last one, however, hit him like a blow to the ribs. The face of Venus, Soldier of Love, her slender golden brows drawn together in ire, pointing a boldly accusing finger at him sheathed in her white elbow-length glove. “Just who do you think you are? You can't just treat people like that!”

 

For all its content, the vision was over in a matter of seconds, leaving him on his knees leaning against the door of his room. His brow furrowed, bleary eyes struggling to focus, as he raised his arm to wipe the cold sweat from his brow.

 

What the hell…?

 

He hadn't gotten to ask any questions, and they hadn't told him anything. All he had was this sword, and now it was messing with his head, as well! He couldn't well have demanded an explanation from the Queen, of course; cryptic or not, she was still the ruler of the whole confounded kingdom. But…

 

Quickly, he shook himself out of such harsh thoughts. The hallucination was probably just a small side-effect. She did say that the sword once belonged to a dead hero. Who knew how this transformation business worked, better than the Queen and her Sailor Soldiers? He had to believe they wouldn't have simply given him something that would have harmed him; they had defended the peace of the land for ages. What reason would they have to ruin the life of one grunt soldier?

 

But then, what reason would they have to give him a weapon possessed of such a mind-blowing power, a weapon that should have been in the hands of a genuine hero? And, for that matter…why had Venus acted so strangely? There had been something almost…expectant, in those odd looks she kept shooting him.

 

He dismissed his bleak thoughts by force, twisting the knob to his door and slumping inside, pressing his back to the cool wooden surface with a weary sigh. If the hallucinations persisted, he would report to the medical wing. With luck, he might even be able to catch Doctor Mizuno—the Soldier, Sailor Mercury—and inquire into the matter with a legitimate excuse.

 

In the meantime, he was in need of some serious sleep. If the Captain took exception to his sleeping before sundown…

 

Well, she could take that up with Luminaire.

 

- - -

 

Ami awoke with a start—to the rude sensation of her chin slipping from where it rested in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped upon the counter before her. It was a combination of quick thinking and reflex that prevented her chin from painfully striking the table, catching herself with her hands and blinking her large sleep-fuzzed eyes. It took a few groggy moments to get her bearings, and she fumbled blindly in her sterile white coat's breast pocket for her glasses, only to realize that they had slipped off her face sometime while she was asleep to land on the counter. The lab was empty now, save for her, had been even before she'd fallen asleep. Most of the major work was done later into the evenings and afternoons, though in truth the laboratory staff had a very loose schedule; in the age of magic and the power of the Mystical Silver Crystal, general science was a field with diminishing practical application. Not that it was all that devastating to Ami—she had always been more interested in medical science, and healing was such a rare gift that there was plenty of need for skilled doctors.

 

Belatedly, she realized that it was the chiming of the door that had awoken her. In a rare flash of irritability, she frowned. She really wished they would replace those muted, musical chimes with something a little more practical. Though the alarm claxons carried loud and clear despite their musical quality, the door chimes were unfortunately quiet, unobtrusive, and had an unpleasant tendency to blend into other background noises.

 

Lifting her glasses in one hand, she raised the other to knuckle a bit more sleep from her eyes as she pushed out of her chair and crossed the crystal floor to the lab entrance. Flicking the arms of her glasses open, she pushed them into place on the bridge of her nose with one hand, opening the door with a single touch of her other hand to the appropriate panel on its surface. She had just enough time to run a hand briskly through her hair, ensuring that it was in at least some semblance of order, before the door opened to reveal…

 

“Hi, Ami.” Makoto's cheerfully smiling face greeted her, a circular tin container about the circumference of a dinner-plate resting upon the brunette's upturned palms.

 

“Hello, Mako,” she greeted, not quite succeeding at keeping the grogginess out of her voice. “What brings you here at this hour?”

 

Her friend wasn't having any of it. “I'm here to make sure you actually, y'know…eat.” She gave the shorter woman a stern look.

 

Ami had the grace to look genuinely sheepish. “I do eat, Mako…” she hedged, glancing guiltily aside.

 

The tall brunette followed her gaze to a clear spot on the laboratory counter, where a few crumbs lingered on a silver-embroidered napkin, and heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I mean food, not a few crackers.” Without permitting further debate, she barged her way into the lab, brusquely sweeping aside the crumb-speckled napkin and replacing it with her temperature-sealed tin. With a small flourish, she removed the lid, releasing faint steam and a mouth-watering aroma, revealing no less than a masterpiece of curry evenly divided for two by a metal partition. There was an open (if whimsical) debate throughout the palace about which division of the CTDF must be happier—Minako Aino's Division Five, led by the heart-throb of the military and self-proclaimed “Goddess of Love”, or Makoto Kino's Division Four, whose commander took no greater pleasure than creating culinary-inspired bliss.

 

Such jokes were invariably punctuated by a lack of envy for the men and women of Division Six. “Drill Sergeant” seemed to suit Haruka's temperament just fine.

 

Makoto had already appropriated a stool, and sat watching the bluenette impatiently as she dragged another into place nearby with her foot. With a small sigh, Ami accepted the invitation, plopping into the stool and taking up the provided utensils.

 

“So,” Makoto began, slightly muffled around a mouthful of curry, “What's new? We hardly see you these days, `cept at meetings.”

 

“Actually, I think I am close to a solution,” Ami began distractedly, her gaze straying toward the spot at the counter where she had been previously dozi—studying. “The creatures from the other day…the Shadows, for lack of a better word…their substance continually deteriorates when exposed to any kind of light. I suspect that they are unable to remain exposed to the light of day for long stretches at a ti—”

 

“I didn't mean that, Ami,” Makoto cut her off with a soft groan, massaging one of her temples with the knuckles of one hand. “Save the serious talk for the meetings and stuff. I wouldn't know what to do with that info, anyway. What's new with you? Seen any good movies lately? Had the sniffles recently? …seeing anyone?”

 

Makoto's face lit impishly when the bluenette's face colored slightly at that last prod, but Ami quickly stammered out a reply as her gaze averted. “I have been busy attempting to keep the medical and science wings of the palace in order. Many of the infirmary staff have been at their wit's end since the attack. There has not been such a large influx of patients since the Palace was erected.”

 

The brunette could only sigh wearily. “There's more to life than work, you know. There's an entire staff there to run the place, and even if they needed you there to hand-hold them throughout the whole process, you can't do it all at once. You're no less human than the rest of them—or us.”

 

Ami fumbled for a reply, but the best she could do was a half-heartedly mumbled, “I suppose,” before her friend clapped her on the back.

 

“C'mon. You and me, we're going out on the town. Put some color back in your face. And then you're gonna sleep in till noon tomorrow, you hear?”

 

Ami was aghast, but her sputtered protest provided no deterrence as the taller woman quite promptly (albeit gently) hooked her by the arm and began to guide her out of the lab, despite her protests.

 

They were gone a grand total of two seconds before Makoto sheepishly slunk back in, Ami still in tow, and fetched the dinner-tin they had been sharing.

 

- - -

 

“Wow…so that's who he is, huh?” The Crown Princess Usagi Tsukino's ruby eyes were still eagerly wide, the long twin tails of pink hair that spilled down from her coiffure swaying against the back of her dress as she walked the halls beside her dark-haired friend. “I never realized what all I missed after I left the last time.”

 

Hotaru nodded. “I never met him much, myself…he interacted more with your mother and her friends.” She giggled softly behind one black-gloved hand. “I think he was a little scared of Haruka-papa, though he would never admit it. He was a little rough-mannered and a little careless, but in the end he was out to do the right thing.”

 

“Hmph!” Usagi turned her nose up in the air, scoffing mock-haughtily. “Not at all like the man of my dreams!”

 

Hotaru sighed, albeit good-naturedly. “Usagi, the `man of your dreams' only exists in your dreams,” she retorted, rolling her eyes, but she gave the other girl a nudge with her elbow to indicate her teasing.

 

The Princess seemed unperturbed though, her eyes actually starry for a moment. “Yeaaah…” she muttered blissfully, then seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. “Anyway, he seemed like kind of a jerk. He put a hole in the floor! Luna was so mad she was almost spitting when we got out!”

 

Hotaru shrugged as they rounded another bend. “He seems that way, but I think it's just a defense mechanism. What worries me more is what he was saying in the infirmary.”

 

Usagi came to a stop, her sun-yellow gown swishing around her ankles as her fae-like brow furrowed. “You talked to him before?”

 

Turning, Hotaru shrugged her slender shoulders. “Just a little. I was trying to take a bit of the load off the healers. He was still asleep when I found him. He was mumbling in his sleep though, kept saying the name `Sephiroth, Sephiroth'.”

 

“The guy who tried to steal the Crystal?”

 

Hotaru nodded. “He was tossing and turning and mumbling that over and over, and then he sat ramrod-straight up and screamed `I'll kill you'! I'm worried, if he's still that fixated on it.”

 

“That's kind of scary,” Usagi hedged, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her pastel-pink eyebrows drawing together. “Is it gonna be okay, with a guy like that having those kinds of powers?”

 

The dark-haired girl sighed again. “I don't honestly think he would hurt any of us. He had a very difficult experience though, he was the only one who survived a fight with Sephiroth. I think we can count on him to help us fight the Heartle—ah…the, uh, heartless creatures we fought off before.” Hotaru spoke quickly, to cover her near slip. She hadn't resolved just yet whether to tell anyone of her encounter with that strange boy on the wall. To be sure, Haruka-papa would be immediately suspicious, thinking the boy a new enemy trying to get in her good graces. “I'm more worried that he might do something rash and endanger himself…or others. Luminaire's heart was always in the right place but he wasn't always a thinker.”

 

“Hmm.” Usagi seemed dubious, but she only shrugged, smiling as she briskly caught up with her friend again. “Well, c'mon! Let's go sneak out of the palace and see what people are saying about it all outside!”

 

Before Hotaru could protest, Usagi was already jogging down the hall in a most unladylike fashion. The dusky girl could only sigh, hooking hair behind her ear with one hand as she started off after her exuberant friend. “Usagi, wait for me!”