Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Past Lives ❯ Places To Be ( Chapter 5 )

Past Lives - By Kirika

 

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The fifth chapter. Pretty much a scene setter.

 

- Kirika

 

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Chapter 5 - Places To Be

 

 

“I'd never been so embarrassed! She looked at me weird all day in class--and this scarf makes it *so* obvious! Oh, how about this one?”

 

Flighty as ever, Usagi's most recent drama was temporarily put aside as she plucked the latest piece of jewellery to have caught her eye from the wall-encompassing rack she had grazed in front of for the last fifteen minutes, though it felt like thirty to Rei. The blonde turned around to face the miko and held up the earrings together with their awkward cardboard backing to her left ear. She cocked her head to one side, no doubt aiming for some sort of `natural' pose to help the other girl better visualise her wearing them for real; however the stiff craning of her neck and arch of her back were at odds with that.

 

“They're nice,” Rei responded on cue, feeling as if she had said the same not ten seconds earlier to a different set, and not to mention many times before then to other presented trinkets.

 

Usagi took the earrings down from her ear and looked at them in her hand, unconvinced. “Maybe...” she mumbled, before returning them to the rack, her eyes already searching amongst its friends for something else to kindle her interest. Flighty as ever.

 

It was Friday after five in the afternoon--the end of the school week. It hadn't always been the case; Saturday hadn't always been the haven for high schoolers it was now. But times change, and no one, not even Ami, was for complaining about it. The weekend was finally whole, and with no classes to put a damper on the respite or loom over a Friday evening, Rei and Usagi were doing what girls and guys their age were doing all over Japan--enjoying the free time.

 

Fresh from class still in their respective uniforms and carrying their schoolbags, Usagi had led Rei into Harajuku, bent for trawling the shops for a fashion-related bargain like so many, *many*, other girls were if the crowds of sailor suits and blazers they'd had to fight through were any indication. The odango atama could have simply utilised her Disguise Pen to slake her desires, sparing them the legwork and hit to their savings, but Rei supposed there was no substitute for owning the genuine articles, or for the fun of the shopping experience itself. And Rei didn't have her own handy dandy Disguise Pen after all. Still, the `fun' was beginning to wear--any kind of fun would after this ordeal.

 

Rei liked shopping for pretty jewellery and cool clothes as much as the next girl, but everyone had their limit--and the trouble was Usagi didn't seem to have one. The raven-haired teenager had lost count of how many stores' thresholds they had crossed, and she couldn't even consider coming up with a number for how many different tops, skirts, dresses, bracelets, necklaces, rings, earrings, and whatever else they had browsed at length. The typically lazy blonde had stamina for the things she loved, the miko gave her that. Meanwhile Rei's interest in finding a new outfit or two or a choice bracelet for herself had waned, if not crumbled altogether. She found her thoughts wandering, thinking about the chores that awaited her back at the Hikawa Jinja; what her Grandpa would prepare for dinner; homework she had to do before Monday... and the fruitless investigation into Roppongi's missing people yesterday night.

 

The last came back into her mind the most and lingered the longest. The Fire Senshi and her Princess had danced as far into the witching hours as curfews would allow, however the fabled ghosts and devils hadn't materialised. Rei couldn't help but question if the dark lurkers she had envisioned indeed *were* fabled; that she had seen the shadows of monsters when all there had been were coincidental shapes. People went missing all the time. It was a sad fact of life. Nevertheless, the Senshi of Fire had only been out there two nights, and only on one of those occasions actively looking for something amiss. Rei *did* toy with giving up; to favour the shuteye for both her and Usagi over the tired walks home in the cold night air wearing smoky and sweaty clothes. It was no lie that it would come as a relief--her grades and her Princess's protective father would thank her. But it was too soon. Rei had to be sure.

 

“Maybe it was all in your head,” Rei murmured absently. Her amethyst eyes stared, but the jewellery store's displays around her that captivated Usagi so went unseen. “With Naru, I mean,” she added after a pregnant moment.

 

Usagi scoffed as though the miko had spouted the most outrageous nonsense, but still managed to keep focused on her shopping, painstakingly raising herself up on tiptoes to peer behind the higher rows of earring packs. “You were there! She asked about my neck. And when she realised.... She's not stupid!” The blonde sighed theatrically as she dropped back onto her heels, a click of her tongue punctuating her landing. “I thought I told you to stop being a big pervert.”

 

“Technically we were alone...” the raven-haired girl droned distantly in reply. Usagi had been upset ever since Naru had spotted the little `present' Rei had inflicted upon her neck at Muse the other night; even in the low light and frenetic atmosphere the redhead had noticed the blemish on her friend's skin that hadn't been there at the start of the evening. It had led to some... awkwardness... but Usagi was making it out to be the scandal of the century.

 

“Ugh, Rei!” Usagi scoffed once more, expressing clearly what she thought of the other girl's reasoning.

 

“It *was* dark,” Rei tried again. She then smiled slyly, suddenly more attentive for the moment. “Anyway, I don't remember you fighting me off at the time.”

 

Usagi turned her head to frown at the Senshi of Passion and fiddle with her scarf hiding her hickey, before returning to finding her potential new earrings hanging somewhere in the store. “Why don't you look for something too?” she said, the change of subject the only sign of victory Rei would receive. That, and Usagi's pink cheeks.

 

“I don't see anything I like.” The jewellery store wasn't exactly upscale; it was the cheap stuff, quantity over quality; full of tacky trinkets and charms of cut glass, plastic, and shiny parts to catch the eye--and low prices to keep them there. The sort of knockoffs that were liable to break sooner rather than later yet still sucker eager girls in with their pocket money. Rei wasn't above such ploys despite her cynicism--it wasn't like she or Usagi had the cash for the real deal after all--but she held onto her right to be picky regardless. It took the exceptional, the prize find, to attract her. Something special.

 

“Come on, Rei,” her love whined. “Don't be boring. Don't you want to try something flashier than studs?” She looked over her shoulder at the Fire Senshi and smiled brightly. “It'll be a change!”

 

Rei tucked some long dark locks behind her ear, one said trademark stud twinkling red under the shop's lights. It held that light better than any of the junk masquerading as gems on any shelf or rack. “I'll be boring,” she said.

 

Usagi made a huffy face but let it go. She knew Rei well enough to know that some arguments had certain defeat written all over them.

 

“Are you done yet?” Rei groaned as the blonde turned back to the display rack, the Senshi of Passion's thinning patience causing her words to be hard and backed by heavy sighing.

 

“*No*,” Usagi retorted just as intensely. “I still have *this* row, and then *this* whole section here, and then--”

 

Rei sighed again. After several minutes had crawled by she abruptly pulled her mobile phone out from her skirt pocket, flipped it open, selected Minako's name, and hit call. “I'm going to see if anybody wants to join us,” she said as she brought the phone to her ear. With the extra company it might go faster or see to rein Usagi in, or failing that at least Rei could share the suffering. With the weekend on the horizon instead of another school day the Inner Senshi didn't always meet up at the Hikawa Jinja after Friday's classes were finished, the homework able to wait. In fact, lately, they rarely did. Change had rippled through their group--it was different now; Rei and Usagi had each other as Ami and Makoto did, and Minako had her budding career that monopolised a great deal of her free time. They each had their own thing, each needing their own space from time to time.

 

“Okay, but I think Minako has a gig or whatever.”

 

Rei roughly hit disconnect and picked Ami's name instead, her thumb stabbing the phone's keys with way more pressure than required. Inviting the Senshi of Wisdom more often than not meant inviting the Senshi of Courage as well, or visa-versa--they were one in the same these days. Rei could understand.

 

“What do you think of these ones?”

 

The phone rang and rang, but Rei was eventually dumped to voicemail. Resisting the impulse to start it with yet another beleaguered sigh, she left a quick message, wondering if her frustration would bleed across the airwaves.

 

“With this pair I like the pink, but this pair's design is better.”

 

Maybe she should send Minako a text message too, just in case she was available now and had nothing to do. It couldn't hurt.

 

“Rei? What do you think? Rei? *Rei*! You're not looking! Pay attention to me~!” Usagi wailed.

 

“I'm looking, I'm looking!” Rei exclaimed, though she didn't tear her gaze away from her phone's screen.

 

“You're not! Take this seriously! This is *important*~!”

 

Before the miko could finish her text to the Senshi of Beauty, her phone chimed, a response from Ami arriving. It said what deep down Rei had been expecting--Ami--and Makoto--would like to be by themselves right now. The blue-haired girl expressed it in equal measures of apology and tact, but the crux of the message was clear. Rei smiled softly, her eyes ruefully half-lidded and lowered. She closed her phone gently in her hand. She had lost sight for an instant, letting distraction and pet peeves cloud her to where she was and what company she had. Ultimately did Rei want to be here? Was she thankful to be here? The answer was never in doubt, but the questions should not have been forgotten.

 

Rei looked up and slipped her phone away. Usagi stood before her; two pairs of earrings dangled at either ear. She was looking expectantly at the raven-haired girl. “The left one,” Rei said, waving a brief pointed finger at it. “The blue sparkles with your eyes.”

 

Her Princess grinned, her prior irritation as if it had never been. “You think?” she said excitedly, before dashing to the narrow mirror near the display rack to judge for herself.

 

Rei watched on indulgently. She sighed a final time, this one in resignation. In the past she would have sacrificed anything for this ease and affection between her and her Princess; for the blonde's sole company; for Usagi to choose her and her alone to spend her time with. Rei had agonised over it; wished earnestly against all the odds; kept that secret inside her next to her heart, never believing it would be yet hoping still for the dream to come true. The pain of back then was over, put aside, but when it *was* remembered it should not be remembered lightly. To take what she had now for granted.... No, how could she ever. Rei's temper habitually led her astray, but this was one wayward track she would not near. Usagi could be positively maddening that had Rei want to tear her own hair out; however there was nothing the blonde could do that would make Rei forget she loved her and that every second with her was a miracle, a treasure, the dream that that yearning, beaten girl in the past had begged and bled for.

 

“I should get a bracelet or something to match these!”

 

“Take your time, odango atama,” Rei said. “Take all the time you need.”

 

And Usagi did. Did she ever. But Rei remained there with her, sharing the experience, savouring her companionship and its highs and lows. She let slip from her mind the troubles of Roppongi and any responsibilities that awaited her elsewhere. Instead she luxuriated in the here and now with Usagi as she would forever, the dream her reality. Nonetheless, the Senshi of Fire and Passion still let the snarky remarks and sarcastic jibes pass her lips every so often, receiving them in kind from her argumentative Princess. That was just the way they were. That was the way they liked it. A love that was positively maddening.

 

Usagi sauntered out of the store happy, some new additions for her jewellery box at home packed carefully away in her schoolbag--and Rei not a step behind her. Walking down the street together an arcade snapped up the blonde's capricious interest next, games designed to seize upon even the most casual of interests strategically disgorged halfway onto the sidewalk, in an unavoidable line of sight for passersby. Naturally the odango atama had been powerless.

 

Usagi grinned, and with a burst of eagerness scuttled over to a UFO catcher, peering through the large glass box at the plushies inside all at the mercy of the mechanical claw hovering above them. The prizes were the soft and cute counterparts of farm and zoo animals, with a handful of sea creatures thrown in; every one of them seeming to plead for you to liberate them with their large eyes. “I know which one I'm going for,” Usagi, would-be rescuer, announced, the determination in her voice causing Rei's eyes to roll.

 

Usagi dumped her schoolbag on the ground at the foot of the machine without so much as a glance, crackled her knuckles, and then slammed a hundred yen coin into the game's coin slot. She wrestled with the controls immediately after, the UFO's `catcher' claw whirring as it moved predictably sluggishly around the glass box's ceiling. The deep focus on Usagi's face suggested an epic struggle against a bitter enemy instead of the very likely vain pursuit for a cheap toy.

 

Rei sighed quietly and picked up her Princess's bag to hold for the blonde, and then leaned with her back against the plush toy prison. “Again!” she heard her girlfriend cry defiantly an instant later, followed by the jingle of another coin being eaten by the machine. Rei might be in for another lengthy wait.

 

“Excuse us.”

 

Rei turned her head to realise a group of high school girls wanted to enter the arcade, and she was blocking the way.

 

“Sorry,” the miko said with an accommodating smile, straightening from her slouch to allow the girls to walk past her. The lead girl smiled back, and she and her group joined with the rows of bright and loud pay-to-play gaming machines inside the arcade.

 

“Who were they?”

 

Rei turned around to meet the suspicious frown of her Princess. Usagi's hands were still on the UFO catcher's controls, but they were as still as the machine's claw.

 

“Huh?” Rei blinked and looked momentarily to where the girls had gone. “Oh. Nobody.”

 

“Were they from your school?”

 

Rei opened her mouth to reply--and then her expression became deadpan, her gaze weary. Her fanclub. She had wondered when Usagi would bring this up; there had been no chance the odango atama would leave it alone. Rei supposed it was a marvel her girlfriend had held her tongue as long as she had; the `hickey drama' probably had something to do with that, however. “Usagi, they had *completely* different uniforms from mine,” the raven-haired girl said dryly.

 

Usagi stared at her, and Rei stared back, until the blonde's face started to twitch. “So?! I don't know what lengths they might go to!” she finally squealed, startling several pedestrians nearby. Her once firm expression disintegrated, comical panic and despair beneath. “A-And you're by yourself *all* day in that school, with *them*, defenceless!”

 

“I'm hardly defenceless,” Rei said levelly.

 

“How do I know?! *Any*thing could be happening there!” Usagi wailed, tossing her arms up in the air as though simulating the alleged abandon going on. “They're probably *all* over you, shamelessly throwing themselves at you!”

 

Rei raised an eyebrow. Her Princess made it sound like the T*A Private Girls' School was in reality an all-you-can-eat buffet, with Rei as the only, and favourite, dish.

 

“With everyone there you... you probably don't even remember me...” Usagi said softly, glancing aside and down at the sidewalk. She dropped to the ground, sitting there forlornly on her heels, her arms hugging her knees.

 

“Usagi....” The Senshi of Passion breathed out her love's name at length, the tragic humour in the other girl's antics no longer there.

 

Rei sank to one knee in front of her Princess and gently cupped a cheek, lifting the blonde's head to view her face. “Everything I....” she began, but stopped, swallowing. She smiled, donning a faraway look. “You have to know,” she simply said.

 

The vulnerable blue eyes stared into amethyst pools... and Rei was certain Usagi saw. She was certain she *felt* it. To doubt Rei, to disbelieve her feelings, her loyalty; it was.... It should never be in question. After all this time, after everything they'd been through--Rei's love was the one guarantee, the one sure thing, in this life. It was beyond truth. It was absolute. How could Rei not remember her Princess? There hadn't been a day since confronting how she felt about her best friend when Usagi hadn't been on her mind... and in her heart.

 

“I know. I'm being stupid. I trust you...” Usagi solemnly admitted. Then she frowned again, and clambered over Rei to poke her head around the UFO catcher and glare into the interior of the arcade, no doubt after the `innocent' group of girls. “It's *them* I don't trust!” Turning back to the Fire Senshi, the blonde gazed at her earnestly. “Rei, have you thought about transferring to Juuban High?” Usagi asked in all seriousness.

 

Rei's countenance became longsuffering once more, and she abruptly stood up, leaving the odango atama slightly off balance and flailing down there on her heels. She did think about transferring, likely more than Usagi realised. She daydreamed about it. But she wouldn't desert what had been her school for years because of a few out of hand infatuations and a slightly insecure odango atama. “Let's get out of here.”

 

“Wait, I....” Usagi manoeuvred herself over to the UFO catcher machine's prize deposit slot and shoved her hand inside. Like from the proverbial hat, out popped a white furry bunny rabbit in her grasp. “Ta-dah!” she proclaimed, springing to her feet as though mimicking her namesake and catch, while holding the latter in front of her chest.

 

“I think the pig was more right for you,” Rei teased.

 

“Hey!” Usagi scowled. “Anyway, I won this for you.” She grinned, holding out the bunny towards the raven-haired girl.

 

“Something to remind me of you?” Rei commented as she took the furry plush toy, studying it. How many hundred yen coins had this ended up costing her?

 

“I thought you didn't need reminding!” Usagi scolded, but was soon all smiles again.

 

“My hero.” Rei leaned forwards and kissed her girlfriend on her lips; quick and simple; yet it still caused a flutter in Senshi hearts.

 

Usagi blushed, turning quiet and shy but looking pleased with herself. Then all of a sudden her eyes opened wide, eyebrows lifting, and she took a sharp breath.

 

“What--?” Rei started, her head turning to look behind her at whatever had agitated the blonde so. But not a split second later she felt her Princess's slender fingers around her wrist, before the rude jolt of the girl pulling on her arm, propelling her several stumbled steps forward. “Ah--! Wai--!” the miko stuttered as she anxiously fought to stay steady on her feet, all the while led by her outstretched arm and Usagi's nuttiness.

 

Usagi dragged her behind the UFO catcher, and then crouched down behind its solid lower half where the game's inner workings were, hauling the raven-haired girl down alongside her. “Shhh!” she shushed, a pointed finger pressed against her lips. “We're being watched!” With great care she raised her head to the UFO catcher's glass top, staring through it at something, before quickly ducking back. “I can't believe it!” she said in a low, breathy, and animated voice. “It's the real deal!”

 

“What are you even--?” Rei began, shaking her head slightly at the wackiness. She tried to stand up and see for herself what was on the other side of the arcade machine, but was immediately grabbed and held in place by her paranoid girlfriend.

 

“It's *them*! *They*! Men in black! Government spooks! Secret agents!”

 

Rei heaved a massive, exaggerated sigh, and the tension that had built up from Usagi's strange behaviour relaxed all at once. Government spooks--her father's doing. She had been so used to their pestering she had forgotten all about them.

 

“I totally know it! They stick out like sore thumbs!”

 

“Yeah, I know. They've been following me since yesterday,” Rei casually remarked, but not without a bit of irritation.

 

Usagi stared at the Fire Senshi, her mouth hanging open as if a bombshell had been dropped. Perhaps one had; what was normal to Rei; daughter of an oppressive Diet member; wasn't to most everybody else. “*What*?” the blonde eventually managed.

 

“This isn't a spy movie, odango atama,” Rei lightly chastised as she got more comfortable sitting up against the UFO catcher, one knee drawn to her chest. “It's just my father's way of... getting my attention. Your father uses the phone; mine deploys the troops. It's not a big deal. Just ignore them.”

 

“Oh,” was all Usagi said, slumping beside Rei, the excitement apparently over. She seemed at a loss for words.

 

Rei laboriously ran her fingers through her fringe of dark locks, her mood gradually plummeting. Usually she ignored her father's lackeys until they gathered the courage to approach her--at which point she would shoot them down with as few--but no uncertain--words exchanged as humanly possible. But they knew the score despite her father's ignorance; the futility of reaching out to her. Theirs was a pointless assignment and they likely were as tired of this dance as Rei was. She may as well put them out of their misery now and give her father the answer she consistently had for him. “I'll get rid of them.”

 

“Wait,” Usagi said, touching the other girl's forearm to stop her. Tentatively she pulled her hand back after Rei did as she was bidden, but then looked up and put on a bright smile. “That's not what you're supposed to do in this scenario.” Usagi winked at Rei and once she had taken back her schoolbag from her, she slowly and tenderly interlocked her fingers with the Senshi of Passion's, before gently tugging the girl onto her feet with her.

 

Rei flashed her love a quizzical look; however Usagi's smile, that was adopting a more and more mischievous slant, proved it was infectious, steadily drawing the raven-haired girl's mouth upwards in kind.

 

“You're meant to lose them!” Usagi suddenly yelled, and took off in a mad dash out from behind the UFO catcher and down the street, hauling a surprised but gleeful Rei after her.

 

They ran and ran, weaving between nonplussed and startled pedestrians, the wind in their long hair and laughter on their lips, Rei and doubtless Usagi as well imagining the faces of the miko's father's flunkies behind them. Soon Rei forgot why they were running--she forgot everything except who she was with, and how it felt to be with her; how it felt to love and be loved by her. It was the way it should be; the way it should always be. After all, why would Rei want to think about anything or anyone else.

 

******

 

Minako stood alone in the centre of the expansive studio, feeling practically every goosebump pucker on her skin. Slowly. The chill was inconsistent with the heat the fabricated beach scene projected a little ways to her left, the cartoonish sand and sea backdrop with fluffy clouds and cutesie airborne aquatic creatures--the latter seeming quite happy about their relocation, which was kind of eerie--brightly lit under photography lamp sunlight; a slice of colour in an otherwise surgical white room. The Senshi of Beauty was dressed for the facade unfortunately, in an orange bikini and--okay, not actually ideal for hiking dunes--pumps. Her display of skin didn't bother her--it was the name of the game after all--but that cold.... It had her eyeing a robe slung over a chair near the makeup station constantly, while she argued with herself whether she should risk going for it for comfort's sake. She was already being hammered under almost everybody's gaze and was unsure if at this stage she had any right to move a single muscle. The less attention she brought on herself the better. Minako even tried her best not to shiver noticeably, lest she give the photographer something else to scream about. Would her goose pimples show up under a camera lens? That was *if* she got to stand on the pretend beach and go through with her shoot today....

 

“Ruined! *Ruined*! Just... just *ruined*!”

 

“Ahh... ah... I assure you, it-- it was unintentional....”

 

Minako winced as the photographer's shrill voice raised another octave, echoing around the studio to bombard her from all sides; however the wince wasn't for her own sake. She was used to yelling. Her longsuffering mother yelled at her longsuffering father whenever the mood would take her, and then at `lazy', `underachieving' Minako who was apparently destined to be a reflection of him--though the girl's mother didn't yell so much nowadays with this new flashy gig of hers, such that it was--and at school there was no shortage of teachers that had a bone to pick with the Senshi of Love and that were more than willing to loudly express it. Even her friends sometimes got frustrated with her. Minako was used to being in trouble--it was mud off a pig's back. It was pig, wasn't it?

 

What the Inner Senshi didn't like was when other people were burnt in place of her. Minako was routinely called irresponsible and unreliable, but there were some aspects of her life where she did not compromise. The things that counted, that *mattered*; that weren't the trivial concerns of the everyday--when the world was crumbling down around everyone's ears, you could bet on Minako to be there with glue.

 

That commitment *had* led her into this predicament however, and had dumped Mr. Kats, her manager--who might be reconsidering his `good' fortune to sign her right about now--into the firing line. It was strange for someone to actually come to her defence in a verbal battering--probably because the blonde was so habitually guilty. In Mr. Kats case it just made Minako feel bad--worse. Ironically her efforts to help him last night, or specifically find a trace of his missing brother, had caused this mess now. But what stung the most was that so far those efforts had ended in failure.

 

Last night had been a long one, robbing the Senshi of Love of much of her beauty sleep. If not for stealing naps in class, Minako would have dark circles under her eyes to bug the photographer with as well. But bags or no bags, the night owl life was normal for a Sailor Senshi, and second nature to Sailor V. The blonde had trudged home a scant couple of hours before sunup, the stench of the sewers clinging to her all the way to her front door. Getting that pong out of her hair had involved many, many, lathers, rinses, and repeats. Her hair, her clothes, and her body had been introduced to smells and slimes she'd never imagined in her worst nightmares from the extra hours she'd dedicated to patrolling Tokyo's septic tunnels, searching for more youma; a bestial footprint, an alien sound, *anything*--anything for another potential lead to more victims, and Eiji. Minako's nose would never be the same, and it had been sacrificed for nothing. She, and Artemis whose whiskered nose had suffered with her, had found nothing. The Guardian Senshi hoped that meant the peckish youma had been a solitary rogue simply praying on easy targets for its survival... although that didn't make her feel much better about Eiji. He might have been one of those easy targets before Minako had slain the creature.

 

Further exploring Tokyo's warrens had had the added bonus of keeping Minako a step ahead of the ambulance she'd called, and more importantly ahead of any other authorities that might have tagged along with the EMTs. While her relationship with the metro police wasn't as strained as it had been when she'd been tweaking their noses--so *they* said--as the `outlaw' Sailor V, it had become a natural instinct for her to dodge men and women with badges and power, just to be on the safe side. Trouble had a way of riding on her shoulders after all.

 

For the man the Senshi of Beauty *had* come to the rescue of, there hadn't been any failure. Minako had spouted a quick tale over the phone to the emergency services of him having fallen down a manhole carelessly left uncovered in the park, saving her the frankly virtually impossible ordeal of carrying the man up to the surface from the sewers herself, while at the same time providing a good excuse for how he got his head injury. The youma's body slumped nearby had decayed within moments, a reaction to the air in death or something that every one of the creatures seemed to share, wiping clean the only real evidence of what crazy event had actually taken place. The status quo endured another day, and everyone got to go on with their lives--most of all the man Minako had saved. He'd no doubt never know what had happened and *almost* happened to him, and that a blonde girl wielding light and love as weapons had been his saviour. That was just the way it was though, and glory, recognition, or even a simple thank you for her deeds was unsought and unneeded. The latter was more than just how it was--it was how it was meant to be.

 

Minako caught the other two models that were meant to join her in this shoot out of the corner of her eye glaring at her, heaping the blame for their photographer's fit unabashedly on her. They probably blamed her for everything that had gone wrong in their lives today. Nevertheless, the blonde offered them all sheepish looks and submissive dips of her head, despite knowing such acts of contrition would do nothing to sweeten their faces. The status quo at work again... that, and ingrained snooty attitudes.

 

“Look at her! How the hell am I supposed to keep *that* out of my shots?!”

 

The curt photographer squatted at Minako's feet, his hands thrusting out to frame the girl's calf injury accusingly in time with his exclamation--the source of the afternoon's drama, and a memento of the Senshi's battle last night. It didn't hurt, but it sure itched--the bandages were a bit prickly. They were wrapped around Minako's leg, holding the pressure pad over a collection of gashes the youma had torn in her with... its talons, the Senshi guessed. Who knows what it had been in that darkness, but you could put money on it having been rife with disease and other general ickiness--nothing a heaping of smarting antiseptic burn couldn't cure, however. The blonde was rather handy with a first aid kit, what with all her experience in patching herself up over the rough and tumble years of being a Sailor Senshi. This wound was pretty trivial--scratches; unsightly; but that was about it.

 

Still enough to screw up a photoshoot when you were one of the models, though.

 

“Ahh.... Ahhh....” Mr Kats dithered standing close by, wringing his sweat-sodden handkerchief between his pudgy hands while he stared transfixed by the offending injury on Minako's leg. The girl's manager was no doubt thinking of an excuse or the perfect thing to say that would downplay the drama--or praying for a miraculous recovery. He was out of luck though--that miraculous recovery would come tomorrow, or the next day, but no sooner. A Sailor Senshi healed fast, but not that fast.

 

“Her leg is *fucked*! Now I'm supposed to do this with *two* girls only?! *Two* girls isn't enough! The shoot is for *three* models, *three* outfits each, over *three* pages!” the photographer screeched, stabbing a pointed finger into his open palm with every weighted word. “Who's going to wear those other three outfits?! And they're *swimsuits* damn it! I can't even try to cover this leg shit up! Graah!”

 

“I apologise, I apologise!” Mr. Kats squeaked, bowing profusely, almost bending in half.

 

“It's too late to get a replacement!” the photographer kept shouting. “Amateurs! Some people are just not cut out for this business!”

 

Minako sighed through her teeth and looked away. She wished Setsuna was here. The woman would sort this guy out real quick.

 

“Can't you just... use fancy angles to keep the bandages out of the shot? Or use photoshop afterwards? You know, airbrushing or whatever?”

 

Minako's head turned with Mr. Kats' and the photographer's towards the newcomer, his laidback voice literally the one of reason, and the one everyone, or at least in the case of the photographer, had been needing to hear. But it quieted everyone, not just the irate photographer, winning over everyone's attention as the `crisis' was rationalised with level-headed simplicity.

 

“I mean... you can totally do that, right?” the young guy said, speaking over Mr. Kats shoulder. Minako remembered him from her manager's office; he had been in jeans and a t-shirt then, but wore a suit like his boss now. He wore it better than the other man.

 

“I suppose,” the photographer grunted. He looked at the Senshi of Beauty, scowling hard for a moment, but then sniffed. “She *is* very pretty.”

 

The young man grinned. What was his name again?

 

“Nice save, Souda,” Mr. Kats groaned as the photographer left for his cameras, snapping at his staff to get ready, despite them having been for the past ten minutes. His tirade had probably been nothing new to them--maybe even anticipated.

 

“That's what you pay me for,” Souda smirked, running a hand through his long brown hair that hung over half his face--his handsome face.

 

“Yay for computers,” Minako said absently, gazing at `Souda'.

 

“It would've been a waste if our talent didn't get a chance to shine today.”

 

The blonde returned the smile the young guy flashed her way, finding herself a touch shy while doing so. With a smile like that *he* should be the one `shining' today.

 

“You have to be more careful, Minako,” Mr. Kats whined. “Your body is precious now; you can't go around getting bit by dogs.”

 

“I'm sure she didn't go looking to be some dog's chewtoy,” Souda chuckled.

 

Minako looked at her manager's kind and concerned face and felt that sting of failure again. It had been within her power, but she had let him down. The feeling had nothing to do with her modelling career.

 

The girl bowed deeply. “I'm sorry,” she said soberly. Sadly she sensed she would be apologising again to him in the future, only at his brother's funeral.

 

But not before. And not if she could help it.

 

******

 

Makoto glowered at the page in front of her, the complex union of numbers and Greek letters a worthier foe than you would imagine. Who knew math would involve more than numbers--and another language! Maybe eventually she would reach a stage when the numbers were phased out completely? That just seemed too weird to be called math anymore. Wait, she had to concentrate. Focus. What had Ami done again? Take the derivative and.... Come on, she knew this.

 

The brunette released a somewhat frustrated breath and began tapping the end of her pencil on her coffee table over and over, her hand gripped by an anxious tic. A second frustrated breath and the pencil's point shifted the drumbeat to over the mystifying equations and formulae, a swiftly growing sum of graphite marks dotting the paper. However no amount of knocking on Makoto's part coaxed the problems into unravelling their intricacies for her strained brain; truly it was like they were in another language.

 

Makoto's pencil stopped suddenly as she looked surreptitiously at the blue-haired girl sitting beside her on her sofa. She watched the girl for a while as she quietly jotted away on her own question sheet, the smooth and elegant strokes of her pencil making sense of the gibberish it asked of her. Makoto leaned slightly closer, taking a peek at the sheet, before drawing back even more confounded and beleaguered than earlier. They were in different calibres of math classes which meant different calibres of homework, but it was like fishcakes next to lobster thermidor. Ami was in a league of her own. Math *was* one of Ami's best and most favourite subjects though... but to be honest, she was good at every academic undertaking.

 

The Senshi of Courage looked back at her own page. She felt a bit pathetic and defeated that she couldn't handle *this*. And after Ami had patiently devoted so much time to tutoring her, too. Certainly Makoto's math ability had improved, but it appeared many, many steps still separated her from her teacher.

 

“Having difficulty?”

 

Makoto smiled quickly at the sound of her girlfriend's inquisitive and patient voice, and turned her head to look at the Senshi of Water once again, openly this time. “Ahh...” she hesitated, ashamed to be letting Ami down. But it couldn't be helped. She sighed. “...Yeah,” the brunette ruefully admitted, then ducked her head sheepishly.

 

Ami was all smiles however. “It's alright,” she said, reaching out to lay her hand reassuringly on Makoto's forearm. “It's what I'm here for.”

 

Makoto exhaled heavily and slumped back into the sofa. “I just don't want to come running to you whenever I hit a roadblock. How will I ever learn myself?”

 

“It's not as if I simply give you the correct answer,” Ami replied rather impishly, before becoming more serious. “Asking for help is sometimes a hard thing to do, but sometimes it's the only thing you *can* do. And in that case it's also usually the smart thing to do.” The smaller girl relaxed back into the sofa's softness alongside the brunette, close enough that their arms and legs touched. “There's only so much one can learn from stagnation, never moving forward.”

 

Makoto turned her head towards Ami as the other Senshi did likewise towards her, and after gazing at one another for a moment, they both grinned at the same time. Ami was wise. Ami was right. Ami was always those things. The Senshi of Wisdom had plenty of her namesake to go around, and her girlfriend in particular was always inclined to listen... more often than not.

 

Makoto took a long resigned breath, but her grin remained. “I guess we should get to it then?”

 

Ami nodded with slightly exaggerated sageness, holding up her mechanical pencil a little too eagerly. It wasn't the first occasion she'd intimately guided Makoto's schoolwork, nor was it likely to be the last. It wouldn't be a surprise to learn she enjoyed it.

 

Both teenagers leaned forwards to hover over the coffee table again, and over the Senshi of Thunder's tricky math homework. After asking which equations were giving Makoto problems, Ami began the step-by-step process of breaking them down into an easy-to-understand solution that practically a preschooler could follow--which was fortunate for Makoto. Ami really was a wonder. Forever patient; never testy when Makoto would ask additional questions or couldn't quite grasp a concept; and full of praise when the other girl would solve an equation for herself while under her caring eye. Schoolwork had amazingly become a pleasure for Makoto. Well, when Ami was around at any rate.

 

“And here we use the chain rule--”

 

Ami's pencil-wielding hand brushed Makoto's over the math questionnaire and abruptly her explanation waned. The hand lingered where it was against the other girl's, neither making to move away. The girls shared a look, volumes spoken in green and blue--something undefinable by any formula, function, or system in academia; or in any circle of existence. Some things weren't meant to be explained. Some things didn't have to be. Some things simply were. But regularly Makoto thought about what had led her here, to this place, to this feeling, this girl; this... love.

 

It hadn't been planned. Makoto hadn't one day decided that Ami was for her, that her friend had been everything she'd been looking for in her life. She hadn't worked at it, hadn't been infatuated by her beauty or personality, hadn't pursued her--Ami had just been there, another Guardian Senshi, her friend; maybe a closer friend than the other Sailor Senshi, but still just a friend.

 

Yet Ami had felt something. Ami had felt *it*. That extra connection that went beyond friendship, that had the power to redefine it as something more. When had it started, for how long, not even the Senshi of Wisdom could fathom--Makoto had asked. Nevertheless, Ami had had the courage to act on her feelings. The brunette mused whether if their positions had been reversed would *she* have had the guts. In any case, if not for Ami, if not for her declaration, if not for her... kiss... Makoto wouldn't be sitting beside her now, blushing under her gaze, her chest as light as a feather. She would have remained oblivious to this wonder. The Senshi of Courage was sure of that at least.

 

Her kiss.... Makoto would never forget it or any of the other... intimacies... that had happened thereafter. But it was that kiss that stood out the most in her memory. It had been a total surprise, and yet... so... natural. As if she had been waiting for it. Whether Makoto had felt the exact same love Ami had that night, she didn't know for certain. She had simply given in, went with it, letting her friend gradually, tenderly, open her eyes to it. The brunette did know it had felt right. She wondered if the feeling had always been mutual, the love always there but unacknowledged, somewhere deep inside, waiting to be discovered. Or if she had been reaching out to a friend in need, answering her cry for help, turning their grief for another, fallen, friend into something beautiful and comforting. It had been a crazy, intense time. Like Ami with her own feelings, Makoto couldn't say anything for sure. However, when she had said `I love you too', she had meant every word.

 

Being in love with a girl... being in love with Ami... it was so unlike her past relationship with her upperclassman at her old school. That period of Makoto's life felt very long ago now. Female classmates had always had a tendency to look up to her--and not just because of her height--they'd admire her in ways that she'd just chalk up to hero worship or an older sister thing; *now* she interpreted their infatuations very differently. While with her ex-boyfriend Makoto had become like those classmates, vulnerable and so... girly. With Ami she didn't feel the same vulnerability. Instead, she felt the need to be strong, to be there for the other girl. Though that was not to say she was never feminine around the Senshi of Water; after all, she *was* still a girl. It was just... different.

 

It was lame to describe it as such; however that was how it was. New and different, and hard to explain. Makoto hadn't even had a past attraction to girls before--not one that she'd been aware of at least. Maybe she had and hadn't realised it? Anything seemed possible now. She *should* have been weirded out by Ami and everything they had done together, but it had been *Ami*, her friend. Her best friend. No, Makoto had grown into their love following that night, her eyes along with her heart ever opening wider, accepting... realising... rejoicing. It had been strange that it *hadn't* felt strange. It had just felt... like destiny.

 

Here and now, there was no questioning what the brunette kept in her heart for her blue-haired friend. Makoto loved Ami. She felt like she belonged, like a part of something--something she'd been searching for. She was a Sailor Senshi, but this... this was just for her. Just for her and Ami. Makoto couldn't really remember her family, but she believed this was how it had felt when she'd still had one. She was happier than she'd ever been since then--even happier. Makoto was in love... a love that would finally last.

 

A short ring pierced through Makoto's apartment, its source in the kitchen from the little alarm clock the two Sailor Senshi had set up there, watchdog of Ami's baking foray earlier in the afternoon. All at once it broke the girls' daydreaming, and mathematics was replaced by home economics as the subject for the day.

 

“The cake,” Ami remarked somewhat giddily, looking in the direction of the kitchen.

 

Makoto smiled encouragingly. “Go on. You're the one who's baking it.”

 

The brunette watched on indulgently as Ami hurried into the kitchen and nervously hesitated in front of the oven for a few seconds, before twisting the dials to turn the heat off and bending down to open the door.

 

“Gloves,” Makoto called from the couch, the role of the teacher hers now and her girlfriend the student.

 

“Oh,” Ami quietly gasped. She took the oven gloves from the counter and pulled them on, then bent down once again to, with an expression of great concentration on her face, slowly and carefully take her cake from the oven. Staring at it the whole time, the blue-haired aspiring chef transferred it to the kitchen counter, on top of the mat that awaited the hot pan. She sighed softly once it was there, and closed the oven door and tugged off the gloves. You would think she was handling radioactive material instead of a run-of-the-mill apple cake.

 

Makoto came over to observe as the other girl took a knife to her creation, cutting two slices, and then scooping them up with some fork juggling onto plates.

 

“Best while it's warm, correct?” Ami remarked, handing the brunette her share of the cake.

 

“I'm glad one of us is taking their lessons to heart,” Makoto smirked ruefully as she took the plate.

 

Ami merely gave a gentle though disapproving look, not a fan of her girlfriend's self-depreciating even if it was mostly in jest, and perhaps to get a little of the Senshi of Wisdom's affectionate encouragements. Ami had it right however. Staying optimistic was important; otherwise there was the risk of eventually believing that your failure was destined to come to pass--and then it did, your efforts sabotaged by your own thoughts. Confidence, however, was not normally a serious problem for Makoto... at least when it didn't have to do with schoolwork.

 

The Senshi of Courage broke the tip off her hot slice of apple cake with her fork as Ami did likewise. “Same time?”

 

Ami grinned and nodded, and brought her fork with a small piece of the dessert speared on the end towards Makoto's mouth while the taller girl mimicked her movement, the pair eating each other's offered bites in the same moment. There was quiet as they both chewed slowly and thoughtfully--then they simultaneously smiled at one another, moaning in pleasure at the perfect mix of flavours.

 

“It's good,” Makoto said, pleased, but not really surprised. The cake *had* been made by her prodigy girlfriend.

 

“Mm!” the blue-haired teenager concurred. She *did* sound pleasantly surprised.

 

Ami's blue mobile phone droned on the coffee table, vibrating across the polished surface as it sought attention. But it had been set to silent for a reason.

 

“Leave it,” Makoto quickly implored, not inclined for anything from the outside world to intrude on these precious moments here with her love. If it was a call from one of their friends--a call to arms from their fellow Sailor Senshi--then their watch communicators would have been flaring to staticy life instead. It couldn't be urgent....

 

“No harm in checking,” Ami said. She was always so practical... to a fault, sometimes.

 

Ami put down her cake and walked back into the living area where her phone and outside distractions awaited. Meanwhile Makoto was left sighing in the kitchen, her appetite for freshly baked apple cake not what it had been. Yet she supposed it was unfair to want to keep Ami to herself; she wasn't the only person in the other girl's life or anything. They had their friends, Ami had her mother... at least Makoto could say she had her heart.

 

“Who was it?” the Senshi of Thunder asked, feeling more upbeat.

 

“Rei,” Ami replied absently, busy pressing keys on her phone as she no doubt prepared a text message to send.

 

“Trouble?” Couldn't be too careful after all, silent watch communicators or not.

 

“No. Just an invite for shopping. I've declined.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Ami looked up and smiled, closing her phone. “I haven't finished my cake. Nor have you.”

 

Makoto returned the smile a touch bashfully, yet every other part of it was pure joy. “Plus you're not leaving me with all your washing up!” she joked. They did have their friends, but for right now each other was all they needed.

 

After cake and dishes; the latter which Makoto would have been happy to deal with herself if Ami had only let her; the outside world encroached as it invariably tended to do, and it was time for the Senshi of Water to depart. Ami had cram school, and after that a mother waiting for her at home. But Makoto and her apartment would always be here for the girl's return.

 

“Remember to tell your mother that you made it,” Makoto said, lingering in her apartment's doorway.

 

Ami nodded from the hall outside, her schoolbag in one hand and half the apple cake's leftovers perched in the other. “I hope she'll like it.”

 

“If she knows it was made by you, then she will,” Makoto said knowingly.

 

They fell into somewhat awkward silence, their goodbyes after such peace and happiness spent together reluctant at best. Makoto would have proposed to walk Ami home, or to cram school or wherever just to prolong their time with each other, but it wasn't exactly practical, nor was Ami the type to okay inconveniencing her girlfriend whether Makoto minded it or not. Instead they'd have to wait until tomorrow to see each other again, and they both knew it. Makoto thought it would have gotten easier the longer they'd been in a relationship, yet it hadn't. But maybe that was a good thing.

 

“Oh, Ami! Hi there.”

 

The Sailor Senshis' moment shattered at the sound of the stranger's voice, and both girls looked a few doors down to the man it belonged to. He was around college age, red hair and stylishly dressed, and with an impressive physique underneath the designer threads. He stood in front of an apartment door, keys in his hand. Makoto couldn't recall someone of his sort living in her building, but then again she wasn't even sure what her immediate neighbours looked like. When she'd first moved in she hadn't been the most talkative person, nor had she been searching for new friends--or any friends at all.

 

“Uh, um, h-hello,” Ami stammered, suddenly tensing up--Makoto could tell she was uncomfortable.

 

“Fancy meeting you here.”

 

“Yes, um.... Sorry, this is my... friend, from school, Makoto Kino,” Ami nervously introduced. “Makoto, this is Takeru Sakai. He's a... an acquaintance of my mother's.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Makoto said automatically, bowing a little, while trying not to read too much into being presented as just Ami's `friend'. Ami could be plenty timid and reserved, however she wasn't so about her romantic involvement, not even while in school or in other public locales. Not normally anyway... unless her mother was concerned. And if this Takeru talked regularly with Saeko, then....

 

“Mm,” Takeru murmured back, dipping his head. “I take it you don't have cram school today?” he then remarked to Ami. “You know, being with your... friend.”

 

“It's l-later on Friday's,” the blue-haired girl said. It was the truth; however her hesitant tone made her sound defensive, like she was uttering an excuse.

 

“I see. Give your mother my best.” Takeru searched through his bunch of keys for presumably the one belonging to his apartment, apparently dismissing the two teenagers.

 

Ami bowed slightly, and visibly swallowed.

 

“I'll... see you later,” Makoto said uncertainly, not quite sure how to behave now that they weren't alone and that Ami was clearly troubled by the fact. Nevertheless, she leaned forward to kiss her petite girlfriend farewell, but the Senshi of Water stepped back out of reach.

 

“I'll explain later,” she whispered at the sight of the brunette's disappointed visage. Ami cast a furtive glance at Takeru, who was unlocking his door, before she put her head down and set a brisk pace through the hall and past him.

 

Makoto watched her go, craving for `later' more keenly than usual.

 

******

 

The streets churned, host to a noisy, unceasing and uncoordinated, fashion parade; chic dresses, smart shirts; outfits to impress and attract, complemented by slicked or bouncing hair tweaked to fall just right--the night's divas and princes out in force; glittering, beautiful--*many*. Friday evening in Roppongi. And Rei had thought it had been packed on school nights.

 

Wedged in the whirlwind of young and old--but mostly young--Rei and Usagi were a part of the night life scene, in harmony with it, yet dressed not so much to impress or attract, but to promote that harmony. In that way they were different from the hundreds of other girls and guys around them. This wasn't to unwind. This wasn't for fun. There were no divas here. Just soldiers.

 

“Do you think your classmates will be at Muse again?”

 

Well, and one Princess.

 

Usagi's arm was locked around Rei's, in part to not become separated from the raven-haired miko in the pushy crowd, and for another because they were girlfriends.

 

“I guess I'm pretty well-known at your school now. Like a celebrity!”

 

But mainly because of *that*.

 

Usagi had gotten over being jealous of Rei's admirers. Now she wanted to make *them* jealous. Of *her*. She was... *proud*. The Fire Senshi couldn't decide which odango atama was more difficult.

 

“I just didn't realise you were *that* popular. I mean, I noticed girls liked you when you performed at your school's cultural festival--remember that? You really had a beautiful singing voice....” Usagi trailed off and her eyes glazed over, shining in the clubs' and bars' bright lights as she no doubt reminisced. It had been a long time ago--a taste of an old dream for Rei. Classmates had begged her profusely for a repeat mini concert every year thereafter; however her heart hadn't been in it. Rei's heart had wandered elsewhere. “But you're like... like... *Haruka* or something! You should see the girls at Juuban High when she's around. It doesn't seem to bug Michiru though. That's true love for you!”

 

“*Haruka*? That's a little off, isn't it? I'm not a brazen flirt like she is,” Rei said, feeling somewhat insulted.

 

“So I've decided that I'm going to be like Michiru and handle this maturely,” Usagi went on, apparently either not hearing the other girl above the chatter and revelling of Roppongi's visitors--or more likely simply too wrapped up in the ideas stewing in her own head to notice the miko's mild outrage. The blonde suddenly wrapped both her arms around Rei's, squeezing tight enough to trouble the circulation while rubbing her cheek against the Senshi of Passion's shoulder affectionately, though with a touch of madness. “I can't wait to show you off to those T*A girls!” she squealed.

 

“I'm not sure that's what Michiru would do,” Rei deadpanned. Oh well. As long as the odango atama was happy.

 

Rei sighed to herself, sidestepping a pair of westerners and weaving through a group of high school aged guys, every one of them with their hair spiked to ambitious bordering on comical heights, all the while guiding Usagi along beside her. “I don't know why it's like that,” she griped as they moved through the crush. “Who decided I should be `queen' of my school? It sounds great on paper, but in reality....” Maybe it was because of her father. Maybe her classmates were aware of his position, his influence, and thus believed his only daughter had share in it by familial association. Rei had never considered that before. She wished she hadn't.

 

“That's easy,” Usagi declared confidently, remaining pressed close to the raven-haired teenager as they navigated the heavy, well-dressed pedestrian traffic. “It's because you're so beautiful!”

 

Rei scoffed, but grinned, feeling better. Her Princess could boil down any situation; shred the details and make it simple. “You forgot smart and cool.”

 

“No, I didn't forget,” the blonde retorted matter-of-factly.

 

The Senshi of Passion scoffed again, this time in pretend indignation, and bumped her hip against her love's in retaliation, knocking the other, laughing, girl off balance for a couple of steps. Rei had to admit she wasn't really hating these nightly investigations.

 

“So, do you think they'll be at Muse again?”

 

Perhaps it was time to change the location of the investigation, however. A different club... with different patrons. “I hope not,” Rei muttered.

 

“Too bad Naru and Umino didn't want to come again. Two nights in a row is too much for them, I guess. But we can still have tons of fun without them, can't we!”

 

“Do I have to say again that we're here to check for anything weird?” Rei said wearily.

 

“I know, I know, but that's why we need to dance and stuff, you know, to fit in. Undercover! Those men in black might still be nosing around too. It'll throw them off the scent!”

 

“Thanks for the reminder,” Rei droned expressionlessly.

 

“No problem!” Usagi energetically replied, not reading into the miko's tone. “It's why I'm in charge.”

 

“Odango atama, you--”

 

“Hey look! I think that's Minako!” the blonde exclaimed, bobbing up and down on her tiptoes every few steps she walked, trying to keep their friend in her sight despite the dozens of other people in the way. “Minako! Minako~!” she called, before turning to Rei. “Uguu, I don't think she can hear me. She could come with us. I should phone her.”

 

“Forget it,” the Fire Senshi said. Someone had caught her attention as well--some*ones*. Amongst the posters on any spare strip of wall for DJs and bands, hostess and host bars, were a unique series that repeated just as often. Less flashy, but no less bold. There were names. Faces. Not all of Roppongi glittered. Not every diva or prince made it back to their castle. Sometimes what they attracted was the wrong sort of attention. But now those ill-fated souls had just the sort they needed. “We've somewhere to be.”

 

******

 

Minako sauntered down the streets of Roppongi, basking in the atmosphere; letting the feeling of the night soak into her skin. Friday had everyone out and having a good time, but the crowds always seemed to make a path for her; no crush, no dodging--it was as though she was meant to be here and everyone knew it. Minako liked crowds. The excitement, the energy--the life within them. And she'd always liked the night. Everything seemed different in the late hours. The whole city was transformed, the lights from windows and lampposts, and of course the moon, painting a brand new landscape. There was something romantic and magical about this parallel world. Even when the streets were deserted, and the din of the day had completely fallen away, it still retained its charm to the Senshi of Love. The night was where she belonged.

 

For a second Minako thought she'd heard her name being called, however there were possibly scores of people with the same name as her flowing around her tonight. She couldn't be the Minako they wanted. She would bet money on it.

 

It was a new bar this evening, though the company would remain the same--Setsuna, Mamoru, and Motoki. Minako had thought about blowing it off--she couldn't stay long--yet her feet were following her friends' directions anyway. So far no one had asked where she'd been last night. Not that the blonde was looking for inquiries; it was probably for the best that they'd assumed... whatever they'd assumed. A modelling shoot, a party, a gathering with the other Inner Senshi--they could choose what they like.

 

The Senshi of Beauty arrived at the address; one of dozens of niche bars crammed into the district's myriad alleyways. Outside it didn't look like much; merely a door and a curb side billboard; however that was normally how it was with these places. “I'll be fast,” she said into the night air.

 

Minako pushed open the door to a glass and metal interior; everything clean modern lines and refinement, from the glass bar to the chrome stools. A real step up from the last few bars she and the gang had frequented.

 

“This is different,” she remarked as she walked up to the bar where Setsuna, Mamoru, and Motoki sat, alcoholic drinks already in front of them. It was hard not to be constantly reminded that she was the only one not permitted liquor during their get-togethers. Setsuna at least could sneak her a sip or too *sometimes*, couldn't she? Well, maybe not responsible *Setsuna*, perhaps Mamor--no, Moto--actually, Minako's best hope for a cocktail or two *would* probably be the Senshi of Time... which was no hope at all.

 

Minako sat down on the vacant stool beside Setsuna, checking out the place as she did so. It was quiet inside, the walls and door thick to block out Roppongi's liveliness, only some subdued piano score in the background for ambiance, and Minako and her generally soft-spoken friends were the sole customers. Setsuna had probably picked this place out; it screamed of her influence. Prim and proper, efficient and understated beauty, cold yet peaceful--oh yeah, it was all her.

 

“Can you get fed in this tin can?” the Senshi of Beauty asked. She lifted her hands from the bar after steadying herself on her perch to see that she'd left prints on the glass. That had to be so annoying for the bartender to keep polishing.

 

“Sure,” Mamoru smirked, and then deliberately lowered his eyes to the bar and the bowl of peanuts he pointedly tapped with a finger--a chrome bowl naturally. “Just kidding. I think they have sashimi.”

 

“We missed you last night, Minako,” Motoki said, leaning forward over the bar to speak past Mamoru and Setsuna sitting between himself and the Inner Senshi.

 

“Yeah, we all know *I'm* the life of this party,” Minako replied sardonically, purposefully avoiding a more informative answer. She couldn't stop herself from glancing at the Guardian of Time however; the stoic woman no doubt was privy to every detail of what the Senshi of Love and Beauty had gotten up to the night before. But whatever. Setsuna wouldn't tell. She was great at keeping things to herself.

 

“How has work been?” the green-haired Outer Senshi spoke up. It was a nice gesture, but perhaps it was for the sake of the two guys near her not imbued with omnipotence.

 

“You know; work's work,” Minako shrugged. She wondered if Setsuna knew she had thought about her. That she had... missed her, she supposed. Was that something someone could discern from just viewing the blonde's life as it plodded along? Time's Keeper wasn't a mind reader--she'd just seen everything; even the stuff that hadn't happened yet. Minako hadn't made her feelings visibly obvious, had she? Oh no, what if Setsuna *did* know, and so she knew that Minako knew, and knew that the blonde was thinking about her knowing *right* *this* *second*?!

 

“I trust Mr. Katsuyori is looking after you in my absence?”

 

“Yeah, he's cool,” Minako said, wincing while she rubbed at her temple. Wait, was that a hint that Setsuna knew? Ugh, this was worse than school.

 

The Guardian of Time smiled faintly. “He'll lead you to interesting places, I'm sure,” she remarked before taking a sip of her clear cocktail.

 

“Well, the supermodel is probably hungry,” Motoki said brightly, signalling the sedate bartender to mosey on over. “Let's get something to eat. But no purging in the bathroom afterwards.” He flashed Minako a light-hearted grin along with a wink to show he meant no harm.

 

“I'm sorry, I only dropped by to say hi,” Minako piped up, shaking off her mind fog. “I've got, um, plans.”

 

“Hot date with a cute colleague?” Motoki posed, his grin becoming lopsided and a shade sleazy as he leaned further over the bar, practically lying on it.

 

Minako shot an involuntary look at Setsuna again. No, she had to be aware that scenario wasn't a possibility. “Oh, sure,” the Senshi of Love joked as she hopped off her stool, before putting on a faraway gaze and a dreamy voice. “He's got luxurious short white hair, beautiful piercing green eyes....” The girl sighed with contrived bliss and clutched at her chest, over her heart. “We've already even slept together so many times....”

 

“Artemis,” Mamoru said knowingly, smirking at the Senshi of Beauty.

 

“Bingo,” Minako snapped, aiming and firing an imaginary gun at the dark-haired man with her pointed finger, one blue eye squinted.

 

Motoki noticeably relaxed after that revelation. The dummy.

 

“As a matter of fact, I have somewhere to be as well,” Mamoru revealed, seconds before polishing off the last of his beer.

 

“What? No way,” Motoki exclaimed. “So it'll be just me and....” The blonde turned his head to the serene Setsuna and offered her an uncomfortable smile that was more twisted lips than anything else.

 

Mamoru patted his friend supportively on the shoulder. “Think of *her*. She *knew* this was going to happen.” Maybe not quite so supportive.

 

Goodbyes were said, and promises to convene at a more convenient time for all were sworn. Minako and Mamoru then left the bar and Setsuna and Motoki to their dubious evening in each other's company. Outside, the Prince of Earth waved a farewell as he walked off down the alley in one direction while the Senshi of Love and Beauty took the other. When he was out of sight, a white shape leapt from nearby awnings to join the girl's trek.

 

“We really should tell the others,” Artemis worried.

 

“We have nothing to tell,” Minako said, cavalierly dismissing the feline's anxiety. “Not yet.”

 

Minako stretched her arms above her head, mewling contentedly, and then brought them down to clasp her hands behind her back. She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the streets before they would be replaced by the stink of sewers, and then released it all at once. She liked the night.

 

******

 

To be continued....

 

 

Author's ramblings:

 

I had Minako say bingo instead of the more Japanese ping-pong, since I figured no one would know what that meant, LOL.