Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Pretty Soldiers ❯ Act 16 - black • moon • petz : Sailorjupiter ( Chapter 16 )

       It was an unassuming building, in the Juuban district. Part of a complex that included a Kentucky Fried Chicken, complete with a statue of the Colonel outside the door, and an English novelty store, its front windows painted with a badly traced Union Jack, the third occupant took up the middle space with no adornment. Merely a window stencil marked its trade as a self-defense class.
        At the moment, however, a sandwich board sat outside with badly drawn, cheery faces surrounded by swords, offering free lessons for life. The only catch was that the person had to be fresh off the street, untrained, and able to hold their own against the owner - and teacher - for five minutes.
       There were a lot of unhappy people inside at the moment.
       Nearly twenty had tried their luck so far, none of them lasting longer than a minute. Most of them were high school boys, a few older, fresh out of college. One older man who claimed later to be a black belt was thrown down in fifty seconds. Nursing ego and tailbone alike, they all sulked as the owner dusted off his hands. "Last try. Anyone else want to go for it?"
        The owner was not necessarily an imposing looking man. Standing he hit an inch below six feet, an impressive height in that particular country, with neatly trimmed brown hair and stern chocolate eyes. Well-built, he somehow managed to maintain an air of gentleness, though only when he apparently felt it was deserved; many of the female contestants had gained that puppy dog look, melting all of them where they stood.
       And of course, it would explain why the one to raise their hand for one last attempt was a girl. "I'll be your opponent, Sommers-san."
       There was no show of derision, nor a flex of muscle or ego. The owner simply nodded and motioned for the girl to join him, and she trotted onto the mat with bare feet as she rolled up the sleeves of her school uniform. Untying her hair from its neat ponytail, she twisted it up into a quick bun and tied it again, tight.
       Facing one another, it was a beaten opponent who made the quick gesture for them to begin.
       The class had built a reputation on its strange brand of non-traditional form, its teacher simply training his class on how to defend themselves. It was not karate. It was not tae kwon do. He didn't even have a name for it, and that was how most of his students preferred it, as they quite often excelled over rigidly trained experts from other schools. They didn't hash the 'correct' way; they simply did it and did it well.
       But this time, against this last opponent, it wasn't working as well as it should have. A reasonably tall girl for her gender, she blocked and returned his hits, receiving as few blows as he. She fought on pure instinct, ducking below many of his swings before he had even brought them around, twisting away despite the length of a cumbersome skirt. Minutes passed by, and soon, they were hardly aware of anything in the room but each other.
       "M-m-masaka," one of the beaten opponents stammered. "A girl! She's beating him!"
       "That's impossible, it has to be a trick!"
       She landed a blow that snapped his head to the side, staggering him back. But he returned with a fury she couldn't block, driving her to the edge of the ring as she fruitlessly tried to defend herself, her arms risen and crossed over her face. It gave him the opening to take her down, pinning her tightly - though gently - to the mat as a stopwatch was loudly clicked. "Five minutes, fifty seconds….. shimatta."
       "But it isn't over yet," she muttered beneath the teacher, feeling him tense. Gathering her strength, she heaved herself back against him, cracking her skull against his forehead and shoving him onto his ass. Collectively, the room gasped as he flailed in shock, blinking stupidly at the girl as she stood up. "Gomen ne, but I can't be defeated."
       "Obviously not," he grunted, rubbing his forehead. "I offered this contest to those without training; you have to tell me what school you come from."
       "None." She unrolled her sleeves slowly, smoothing out the wrinkles as she eyed him curiously. "But I want to be taught. I have to be stronger, better. At my current level, I'm unworthy."
       The excitement over, most of the small crowd had begun to disperse, ignoring the conversation to grab suitcases and lunchboxes and exit the building. A few glared at the girl who had succeeded where they had failed; many rubbed the lumps they had gained. Nodding to some, as politeness demanded, the teacher said, "That's rather strange to say. What are you unworthy for, a future in American wrestling?"
       He turned to look at her, watching as she undid the tight coil of her hair. "But you did defeat me. I'm an honest man; and I'll formally train you, starting tomorrow, if that's really what you want."
       The sudden smile she had for him was blinding, and she let her hair fall free to grab his hands, bowing happily. "Arigatou! I promise, I'll do my best!"
       "You're welcome! Shit, no one's ever been so happy to be my student before." He disengaged his hands, rubbing his forehead again gingerly as he stood up. "And what name should I put in my books?"
       Tying up her ponytail, she said, "Kino Makoto." And she smiled.

      There was never much to eat on Nemesis.
       From afar, the plain castle looked like a nasty pimple on an already dead planet, its three buildings pointing up into a dark sky that never saw the sun. Around its edges grew sparse plants, little supplement to the meager meals that the castle's inhabitants could digest; the native population had long since adapted, in typical criminal fashion. The majority of food was grown in controlled rooms on a lower level of one of the smaller buildings, all fruits and tubers, with no meat to their diet. The rumblings of an empty stomach were common music in the hallways.
       Petz despised this life.
       Even now her stomach was cramping from a 'light' breakfast of roots and an apple, all cultivated from stolen seeds from their former life. If she let her mind drift, she could recall the gluttony of a full belly, the comfortable knowledge of never going hungry. But that had been another lifetime, when she had reveled in the blasphemy of a silver queen.
       Now, she carried herself proudly as one of the ayakashi no yon shimai, and when pressed, would declare herself to be first child, the eldest daughter of the four. Despite their flaws, their eventual defeat at the hands of the eternal sailor soldiers, she was strong.
       And though Demand didn't know it, pledged to the phantom.
       Her loyalty, and that of her sisters', had barely begun to blossom to the cause of the headstrong 'prince' when another opportunity had made itself known. Until now, they had simply playacted, pretending to be the most worthy subjects whilst systematically killing the rest of their group of traitors until only they and the four of the 'court' survived. And though they had chosen to follow the true cause of the phantom, secretly gloating in their future superiority, Koan and Berthier had volunteered for the mission to capture the rabbit and secure the 21st century.
       In the air floated the comatose bodies of the captured sailor soldiers, the limp body of Mercury still dripping sporadically onto the floor. Mars was in terrible shape, having not had the luxury of a bath for too long; the odor in the room was not ripe, but it was noticeable. To see two of the legendary soldiers in such a state was almost human.
       Fingers curling into a fist, Petz felt the hatred coalesce in the form of thunder, a powerful disruption of sound and air. She screamed once, curtly, as she allowed the power to fly free from her hand, striking the two soldiers violently; even in their unconsciousness, they responded accordingly to flop and twist soundlessly in the air. It made her feel much better, so she did it again. And again.
       After the fourth time, both were wind-burnt and bruised, dependent on their positions. Mercury, almost right in front of Petz, was bruised, an arm hanging slightly wrong in obvious dislocation, her uniform ripped and tattered in spots. Mars, her body shielded by that of her fellow soldier, was relatively spared.
       It was then that the air was disturbed, and the smell became completely rank. The scent of death followed in the Wiseman's wake, and it was a subtle perfume to those who had pledged alliance to his true master. At the appearance of the robed seer, Petz lowered her head in respect. "Petz," he droned - though titles such as 'he' or 'she' were complete ineffective, and they most often fell back onto using the masculine title - as he wove the air between his hands, centering his powers on the crystal spinning slow. "Petz, tell me: do you desire revenge for your pretty sisters, yonjo Koan and sanjo Berthier?"
       "Hai, Wiseman-sama. The destruction of the eternal sailor soldiers. Demand-sama and his court cannot possibly handle this. As the oldest of the ayakashi no yon shimai, this is my duty." Looking up, she sneered with disgust at the floating, helpless forms of Mercury and Mars. "Though they defeated my lovely sisters, they are weak in the 21st century. Information is abundant in that soft era, and I will use it to infiltrate, subdue, and destroy. The rabbit will be the prize in the center of the maze," she said triumphantly, standing tall.
       Wiseman seemed to stare at her critically, though it was merely the tip of his hood that gave it away. Elegant in green, Petz had a subtle fashion in comparison to her youngest sister, at least for garish design. Her green hair was styled up into a timeless bouffant, accented with the same black crystal earrings and black crescent sigil. What looked to be a half-breed of a pair of wings and a boa rose behind her bare shoulders, framing them with dark green; a shade darker than the miniskirt dress, long gloves, stockings and high heels. The only variations of colour were the curls of gold that accented her breasts like two pairs of vague eyes.
       Nodding his head in slow agreement, the floating seer lifted an aurora-like hand, lengthening fingers pointing towards the sparkling crystal hanging heavy off her ear. "Remember, Petz; you carry the power of death, a piece of the Jakokusuishou. Do not act hastily, as your sisters had done. Use the power of death on the eternal soldiers. Grant them eternity in the darkness, and gain the impure Ginzuishou for destruction at my hand."
       Her bow was this time graced with a bitter smile, soft pink lips, utterly kissable, twisted into shape. "Hai, Wiseman-sama."
       Their conversation obviously at an end, the robed sage floated away on his own current of air, ignoring the two limp bodies in his path as one would the seaweed. "I will notify Prince Demand of your plans, Petz. For the phantom."
       "For the phantom." Touching the crystal that hung from her ear, she summoned the connection to the main crystal. For such a powerful device, ripping open holes in time and space was easy, and it gave them the ability to ignore the true time door - though at a rather terrible cost. Blundering through time and space as they did, they were wreaking havoc on those particular planes, a fact Wiseman had pointedly 'forgot' to mention.
       But Petz knew, and she reveled in the knowledge of such wanton destruction. All of it had purpose. She took exquisite pleasure in ripping open that hole, feeling the very molecules of her body withdraw back through time. "Wiseman, tell my sister I will see her soon; I will be victorious!" she crowed, though it was possible he couldn't hear. Ah, the joy of knowing you had the power to change history was heady indeed.
        Demand would never know that feeling. Petz had nothing but true disgust for the silver prince, so ignorant of his true cause. None of his fellow traitors had known the truth of the phantom, and the Wiseman merely laughed the first and only time she had asked why. Did one tell the cow that it was only to be slaughtered for food? The prince and his followers believed what they were told, and they would die with perhaps the smallest glimpse of the phantom if they were truly lucky. Petz and her sisters would ascend; they would have been the phantom's loyal subjects.
       The crystal drew her back to a similar power, depositing her on a gentle sloping hill of green, healthy grass. So beautiful and thick, she was momentarily stunned when her heels sunk into the dirt, the tall plants brushing her thighs. And the sun, so brilliantly bright; it hurt her eyes, making her flinch.
       "Petz! Have you come to continue the mission your sisters failed?" The shush and hiss of grass against fabric was all she heard of Rubeus' approach behind her, up the side of the hill. His body pressed so closely she had no choice but to open her eyes to the painful sunlight to turn away, shoving him far from her. Infuriating as always, all he did was laugh as she noticed the silver, sleek ship in the small valley he had climbed out of. "Ara ara, not happy to see me?"
       "You surprised me." It was a truthful statement, though the acid behind it spoke of a larger hatred. And she, unlike her sisters, especially did not like the red-haired man. "The Wiseman is telling Prince Demand now of my intention; you can ask him." She shook off the hand that touched her, sneering. "Do you need more?"
       Easy to anger, the red-haired man sneered back. "An operation I can report to our prince. You know he wishes to plot every step of our victory."
       "Code : 003. Operation : Renew. I will secure the city for our plans, capture the rabbit and another soldier if necessary. Is that sufficient?"
       He seemed to take pleasure in her lack of coping with the sunlight, finally forced again to shield her eyes. His head tilted back to stare into the clear sky as he said, "Yare yare, Petz; such bright light is unknown on Nemesis. It must be terrible for you, unable to handle it so suddenly."
       The slap of gloved fingers across his cheek rang in the valley. Furious, Petz once more ripped open a portal, directing herself without thinking into Tokyo proper. Trembling with anger, she didn't realize where she had put herself until she smelled something exquisite.
       As the eldest sister, Petz had known the concrete jungle of the 21st century, if only as a mere baby. Not quite old enough to walk, she had been spared the ravages of time alongside of her family, awakened by the silver queen as one of the first families for the sole purpose of attempting to grow food. Her sisters had known only the glittering crystal expanse of their solitary city, and then, the dark, sunless world of Nemesis. But she remembered.
       The smell was oily, a yakitori stand behind her. It stood in the district where fresh seafood was brought each morning, and at this time, it was doing a moderately brisk business, hiding her sudden entrance. But the man at the food stand noticed her now, her green clothing inappropriate for such a market. "Moshi moshi?"
       In here, blocked by buildings and clouds, the sun was dim. Gratefully she opened her eyes wide to see the smelly man, clothed in his stained apron and standing over his portable grill. Skewers of just-grilled vegetables and chicken rested on a small cardboard container, ready to buy and eat. Though the smell was normal for any citizen of Tokyo to smell, and possibly a bit thick thanks to his obvious heavy-handed technique - the chicken and veggies had more black scores on them than was usually acceptable - it was heaven to her senses. "That's….that's…" She groped for the words, despite the inelegant lettering on the side of the cart. "Yakitori! I remember it."
       Without asking, she took two of the skewers, her stomach roiling at the oily scent and flavour as she tore and chew the food off the wood. The man gaped at her as she devoured the snack, a blissful look on her face, lips smeared with glistening oil. She took two more again, gulping and chomping them down in much the same manner. "It's been so long…"
       Her gut didn't much appreciate the sudden introduction of meat and oil, something it had been without for a long time. Without warning she felt ill, though she barely reacted; it was hardly an alien sensation anymore. But it was eclipsed by the man's growing anger, his harsh words of, "Are you going to pay for that!? I am not charity!"
       Pay. The archaic concept of money was just that to her; archaic, decrepit, useless. The silver queen had not yet needed such a thing as monetary compensation, as there were still people to be awoken, even after the centuries had passed. Concepts of paying for food or clothing were useless when an entire civilization was still pulling itself out of cataclysm and adjusting to long life.
       And he was still shouting, creating a scene. With casual gestures she stabbed two of the skewers into his eyes, disregarding his change from screams to whimpering keening. She bent over him as he fell, touching her earring to summon a lackluster droid - the one wholly useful contribution to the cause Demand's loyalists had created. "Program: Mimic. Assume his body, subjugate the market." It was always useful to capture even the smallest group of complete incompetents.
       Like a vacuum, the droid swallowed the poor man's body into itself, eliminating the need for burning the corpse. Features began to appear, the droid's figure becoming rotund and squat, clothes bleeding out of its limbs. As she stood up straight, the droid full took on the man's identity, brandishing a set of skewers.
       It continued to amaze her, the speed with which humans forgot, ignored, or deliberately put it from their minds these trauma. The market around them continued to buzz, many of the witnesses turning away from the scene of the murder, holding up their fish or lobster even higher to capture attention. And as the droid began to cook up some more skewers of chicken and vegetables, though with slightly slower, lethargic movements, a few customers showed up.
       Leaving the droid behind, Petz began to walk.
       Walking was not as useless to her as to Demand and his aloof loyalists. She had rather enjoyed it during the years beneath the silver queen, and though Nemesis didn't allow for any real nature walks, she had long ago mapped out the entirety of the castle's interior. So she did it now, taking the opportunity a block away to finally clothe herself in what she observed to be 'normal' 21st century clothes; a light green jacket, black top and jeans, and her boots. A vendor 'graciously' added some sunglasses to the ensemble.
       And though the memories of the time were minimal, it was the flower shop that finally had her stopping to gaze in wonder.
       Roses crowded the windows, of different shades of red. The scents that filtered through the opening door was amazing, and she took the opportunity to slip inside to stare in awe at the fat, velvety petals. Of course there were other types of flowers and scents, but it was the rose that had Petz reaching out to stroke their buds. "Lovely…but they're all red, passionate colours. Living…."
       "Would you like to purchase some flowers?" A lady stood next to Petz, leaning in to show her interest in making a sale. "If you like, we have several different colours of roses. White, yellow, blue; black, perhaps, if it is for mourning."
       "Black roses….the colour of death," Petz murmured.
       "Hai, but also of rejuvenation. Many do not understand it as a gift, for it can signify change, or a promise of new information," the woman chirped.
       Fingers stroked the petals, and Petz smiled as they turned black beneath her hand. "Perfect."

      It was raining, as it always nearly was these days on patrol, and the soaked soldier was sick to death of it. The inconsistent splatters were what annoyed her the most, though, if prodded, she would have added some passionately stumbled statement about the sheer nastiness of needling, sharp rain and its close cousin sleet.
       Needless to say, she shouldn't have been out at all.
       But here she was, good ol' Sailor V, huddled beneath a brilliant rainbow umbrella that bore several dancing hamsters, all of them a damn sight happier than she was presently. It did nothing to keep the rain away, but she doggedly held on to it out of sheer stubbornness as she peered out over the slicked, shiny city. From her spot high up on one of the taller condominium buildings, she could almost see her house but no suspicious activity.
       In the preceding hours she had already bagged and tagged three crooks, ranging from an American serviceman who had apparently decided that having a gun and a pair of fatigues allowed him to attack any young girl he met, to a weasel of a Chinese opium dealer trying to carve out his own little niche in the Ginza. All of them had met similar fates; bound up, gagged tight, and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of the police station, each one stabbed through the shirt with a pin of her likeness. (Who knew merchandise bearing her face without her consent would actually be useful?) Despite the mild thrill it gave her - and that never changed - she felt just as listless as she had upon leaving the house.
       For a year roundabout, she had known her purpose and function: fight the Dark Kingdom. Payback for her untimely death, for her queen's sacrifice, for her planet's genocide. She had known the faces of her enemies, and she had known their ambition.
       But they defeated them, and still they hadn't been given peace.
       The Black Moon was an enemy she didn't know, couldn't understand, and had no clue how to fight. She had been awakened with the motive of revenge, and with that taken care of, she was without direction; and it showed. Three nights now she had escaped her erstwhile feline companion and the guise of Venus. Even without her original pen she knew how to bring on the persona of V, and she used it as her own personal shield to continue fighting. To do something worthwhile again, that she knew how to do.
       Artemis was furious with her. "Mina, you don't need to become Sailor V anymore! Going out alone when the others could need you at a moment's notice, do you want to be caught off-guard by yourself by the enemy?"
       "It doesn't matter, Artemis! There's nothing we can do, and why shouldn't I try and draw them out!" Lies, lies. Oh, she didn't like to lie to him, really.
       Nothing seemed right anymore. For the soldier of Venus who recalled a lifetime of service in the royal guard, always protecting her princess or fighting an insignificant war, this middling about was complete hell. But for Aino Minako, who was at heart the dreamer, bubbly and carefree, this need to do something so dangerously useful was also hell. She wasn't a cold-blooded fighter; but Venus was. And lately, the rift seemed to keep widening.
       So she kept it at bay by plunging headlong into the safe zone of Sailor V, who was expected to be ditzy yet strong, silly but mindful; a blend of both of her, specifically for her. And it kept her from thinking, which she was doing far too much of lately.
       The rain was letting up finally, leaving a cold chill in its wake. She shivered; through her uniform and transformation gave her a lot more protection that normal clothes would, the cold still sliced to her bone cleanly, if without its vehemence. Dropping the umbrella she briskly rubbed her bare arms, watching the buildings below her to see a light turn on in a window. The glass had been replaced recently, and she knew because she recognized the chunky master thief who stood silhouetted behind the desk.
       And as thoughts would go, she remembered saving Moriya that night; and, trailing further, she realized, dully, and for the fifth time that month, that she was Alex. Not that she had been very kind to her either, which was shameful. The kami knew she had dealt with the same coldness and mistrust when she had revealed herself to the soldiers, feeling disbelief and pain as four girls whom she recalled so fondly from another lifetime turned away from her. Alex had been their mentor and closest friend, guiding them through their short lives with ease. How much could it hurt for her to be so violently closed off from them, and from Usagi especially, whom she had been friends with for over a decade as Chouno Moriyakumi?
       Just another mark on Minako's embittered soul.
       With a flick of her wrist she released her golden chain, trusting it as always to find its way to a point of support. When it tugged tight, she stepped off the edge and dropped, dizzyingly, towards the street below, feeling her stomach crawl its way up her throat and hide cowering behind her teeth. But it was an ecstatic feeling and she grinned as the wind howled past and the chain went slack then taunt again, whipping her across empty air and past buildings. Without missing a beat, she let go with one hand to repeat the magic, watching as the gold links formed seemingly out of thin air just above her palm and sped off into the night.
       She continued in this fashion for several miles, seeing as always the human element in the city she really shouldn't have (her nation's sexual appetites were certainly voracious if a bit depraved and unusual), before she dropped, spinning, to land on the roof of a particular complex.
       "Yare yare, it isn't often that pretty girls drop in on the roof of my home. Especially on a shitty night like this."
       "Nani?!" The long-haired blonde spun around in shock, nearly slipping in one of the multitudes of puddles. She regained her balance after a minute of twisting around on her ankles, then, with a shriek of pure indignity, said, "Don't do that to me!"
       The tall red-head was almost lost in the shadow of the alcove that held the door to the roof itself, sitting as she was on the very edge across from Minako. Dressed in what seemed to be her habitual black, only her bright hair and pale skin was truly visible, if dully; but her chuckling was obvious enough. "It's a bit cold to be prancing around as Sailor V, isn't it?"
       "Yes, well, there was still crime to be stopped!" V replied a bit grumpily, skipping around the puddles to traverse the rooftop. "Sailor V waits for no weather."
       "And why doesn't Sailor Venus take on the job?" Alex asked quietly as V came close. The long-haired blonde frowned at the question, opting for silence until she made it all the way to sit, balancing on the edge with an ease Minako couldn't accomplish.
       "Because Sailor Venus doesn't have purpose in fighting crooks." She refused to look at her associate, instead staring out again - as she had been for several hours - out at the city. Even from so high up she could see and smile as a young man ran by, carrying an arm full of flowers. Black flowers…?
       She turned away to catch sight of movement out of the corner of her eye; over her shoulder hovered Alex's hand, obviously unsure of her right to touch the long-haired blonde. "And why don't you have purpose? Sailor Venus is a leader, and a guardian of the princess, both of which are very relevant issues at the moment."
       "And what good is that if our enemy can snatch us away so easily?" An easy twist brought V to her feet atop the edge, her eyes fierce through her mask. "The 'Black Moon'…an enemy we don't know, who continues to taunt us! Now we're merely guessing as to their motives and their ways, when our sole purpose in awakening was to stop Metallia and that's been done!"
       She held up a hand to silence Alex as she opened her mouth to speak, adding, "And what good is an avenged ghost without her reason to be?"
       Eyes narrowed, the tall red-head quite visibly scoffed.
       She reached out to snatch away the blue domino mask that hid Minako from the world, so quickly the long-haired blonde had no time to react, and flung it into space. "Your problem, Minako, is that you're too damn easily scared. And this is supposed to be the strong soldier? A child who retreats back behind a mask meant to have been training wheels in the first place?"
       "And what can I do!" Minako cried back. "Ami-chan, Rei-chan, gone and captured, and I couldn't stop it-"
       "You stupid, stupid girl, you can't save everyone!" Alex snapped.
       The rain was falling again, and so it made it easier for Minako to pretend it was only the dirty water running down her cheeks instead of salty tears; but she turned away nonetheless, her breath hitching in her lungs. "I have to be strong; a good leader could do everything."
       "Have all of you been reborn daft?" She heard the rustle of paper, and then, the strike of a match. "There's always tragedy in a war; you knew that once before. Only Serenity, in her exalted state of mind, thought she could save every single life and yet spare the world. Naïve is an easy way to explain her attitude towards the fight, but it doesn't work for you, Sailor Venus. I taught you better than that.
       "Yes, there's a good chance that Mars and Mercury could be dead now, but life is not fair. And it's given you the chance to engage the enemy in battle, to slowly realize their weaknesses, and if that wins the war, that's what it takes. You realize you could possibly never see them again, and you accept it, but -" and here, she finally touched Minako on the arm, "you also never give up until you find them with your own eyes."
       Minako wiped uselessly at her wet face, staring with blurry vision at Alex, who looked quite earnest at the moment. She could recall that same look ages ago, when she had been a younger soldier in the gardens of the Moon Kingdom, wielding a heavy sword far too big for her child's body to block the lighter swings of her teacher. In time, she would be able to use it properly, guarding herself against the harshest of blows; but not then.
       And it had been like this as well, with the older woman always there when they needed advice. Her crushes, her failures, her secret longing to be this way or that, she had told all of it at some time or another to the tall red-head. She had been everything for the four soldiers, from teacher to mother to counselor, and they had done nothing but treat her terribly in this time.
       Yet here she was, giving more advice again. Minako smiled weakly. "That's a bad habit, you know."
       "I know, but I only do it every now and again." So saying, Alex flicked the cigarette off somewhere onto the next roof. "Giving advice, that is. Smoking too, but it's not nearly as dangerous as trying to tell a young teenager what she should be doing. Can get a person killed."
       And just to be rude, the rain began to pour even harder on them both.

      Yes, the city had indeed rebuilt even its most traumatized, inanimate victims.
       A case in point was the Crown Game Center. Remodeled and built from the basement up, it stood gleaming but empty. But connected to the same building, a floor up and next door, saw the Crown Fruit Parlor, barely scathed by the tornado that had been born within the guts of the game center. Its mild damage patched over, it opened back up to the public with a new menu and a gusto for youth that bordered on the obscene.
       Glitzy, airy, and bordered by dozens of windows to allow in the bright sunlight, the corner booth was perfect to watch the people passing on the street below. And it was here that the moon princess sat, comfortable in the crook of her prince's arm, her own hands pressed childishly against the glass as she did indeed watch the passing pedestrians. Across from her, Minako did the same, though her excitement was noticeably duller. She'd had her first day of school after its final bricks were back in place, and it had just gone downhill from there.
        Makoto was buzzing with joy herself. "And so I won the competition! I had to do this, to better myself as a sailor soldier."
       "So where is this school, Mako-chan?" Alex had chosen a single chair to sit in at the head of the table, straddling the heart-shaped backrest. Though she wore a white button-down for variation, the rest of her was in her usual black, gaining her a lot of stares from the uniformed school crowd.
       "In Juuban, of course. After school, it's right between home and there, and I can train to perfect myself without losing time." Sullenly, then, she added, "I can't allow any more of us to be taken. Mars, Mercury…this is what they would do."
       Hidden between the potted plants that lined the tops of the booths, Luna and Artemis draped their front paws comfortable off the sides above Minako's head. "You can't blame yourself, Mako-chan," Luna said. "The Black Moon are powerful; in the newspaper they've been appearing rapidly, their UFO creating those 'crop circles.'"
       "And they're chasing Chibi-Usa," Alex interjected, slowly stirring her coffee. "I'm sure of it. They appear so suddenly as she did from the sky; from everything you've told me, there's no doubt that she's involved, but not for them. She's like a lost child."
       "Did she tell you anything, LeBeau-san?" Artemis queried, licking at his paw. Though they had all accepted her with a bit of hesitant grace finally, all of them but Minako still insisted on using formality with her. It annoyed it, though all she did was twitch an eyebrow most times, opting to leave it be.
       The sound of metal against ceramic was tinny but annoying; tapping the spoon against her cup is what slowly rounded each head around to stare at her, though Usagi wore a dull, muted expression. "No," Alex said at last, once she knew she had everyone's attention. "When she arrived at my apartment, she was crying, saying that she had to save her mommy; and that she could still smell them dying."
       A disturbing thought indeed. Even the two felines seemed to turn mildly green beneath their fur, matching the plants.
       "Poor kid," Makoto mumbled finally. "Even if she is an enemy, no one should have to see such a thing."
       "Age makes no difference, Mako-chan," Minako said firmly. "Remember, even our queen was willing to have us die instead of our princess. A young innocent is even easier to fool people into trust."
       The dark-haired prince frowned almost angrily, sitting up in his seat, nearly snapping as he replied back, "And is that your mature opinion, Venus? That everyone is evil before innocent? I saw the crystal palace in her memory, and it was a happy place."
       Twilight blue eyes turned violently navy as the long-haired blonde stared in silence at Mamoru, a subtle change in posture and bearing coming over her. In another time, he would have been of such status as to make her kneel and beg forgiveness, but here, he was merely a man, and she was a soldier - not only a sacred guardian, but she who leads. And now was the time to truly accept her position. "Mamoru-san, don't forget who was a sacrifice, and who was merely a lovesick boy.
       "You were a prince, and you looked down from your towers at the common people, but I walked amongst them, and I saw what could lurk in their eyes! It's a leader's duty to be suspicious, to think ahead of the enemy." A bitter smile lifted her lips as she added, "I'm sorry if doing my job offends you."
       Only Minako saw the approving nod the tall red-head gave her. The rest of the group instead stared at her in disbelief, as if they couldn't absorb what she had just dared to say. Usagi in particular had a wide-eyed, shell shocked expression; even though Chibi-Usa was barely above green mold in her opinion, the actual though of her doing something so suddenly violent to them was horrifying. "Minako-chan," she whispered.
       Closing her gaping mouth, Makoto shook her head sharply. "Iie, Minako-chan, she couldn't be so evil. How can you think so terribly!"
       "Because she's a leader, and that's what a leader does." Clinking her spoon again against the sides of her mug, Alex adeptly ignored the stare she received from the disbelieving brunette and drank the last big of her coffee.
       The doors of the parlor opened with a pleasant chiming of bells when each person arrived and forced it to slide open. They made sure to be heard across the entire room, though this time, the bells were coupled with a male cry of "Suzuran-chan!" which had every head turning to see a young blond boy, carrying a few roses.
       Though they were, unusually, completely black.
       Happy with his burden, he seemed to dance over to a wan girl in the corner with short brown hair, her uniform from a school across the ward. He presented the flowers to her, which she took after kissing him on the cheek. "Young love," Makoto sighed, forgetting the argument for the moment. "If only…"
       "That's the second time I've seen someone carrying black roses." Minako recalled the night before, seeing the man down on the street carrying a large bouquet, though she had thought her eyes had been playing tricks with her then. Now, she was positive. "Isn't that a sign of death?"
       "Not always, though it's normal for them to be associated with dying," Mamoru answered thoughtfully. "Sometimes they're used as a sign of change, rebirth."
       Usagi, as always a voyeur of people's happiness, clambered up onto her knees to watch the couple laughing at their table. Folding her arms atop the booth's wall, she sighed as well. "Isn't it wonderful to see, minna? They're so happy together."
       "They might not be happy much longer if the Black Moon wins," Luna commented dryly, rasping her tongue across the pad of her paw when Usagi gave her a petulant look. As she sighed and slid back into her seat and against her prince, the black feline added, "and what could they want? Striking at random as they are-"
       "Iie, Luna, don't you see? They've been striking at us, there's no other possibility!" Minako whispered.
       The dark-haired prince nodded to her words as her two fellow soldiers blinked, looking confused. Above her head she could hear Luna utter a quiet curse, smacking her head with her paw. "Of course," Mamoru finally said. "Why else would they have been at those places, at times when their fathers would be present? It's a logical impossibility that twice it could happen."
       "And hell, who even knows that Ami's father is the famous painter? Rei doesn't even speak of her father. How could an enemy unknown to us have information so private?" Alex mused. "Somehow, they knew that Sailor Mercury is Mizuno Ami, that Sailor Mars is Hino Rei. And if that's the case…"
       "Then they would know who we are as well," Makoto murmured.
       The tall brunette and long-haired blonde stared across the table at one another. Slowly they then looked at their huddled princess, who had taken up a death grip on Mamoru's left arm and didn't look ready to let go anytime soon. Minako groaned. "Ne, then one of us would be next."
       "Well, I'll be ready!" Makoto pounded her fist onto the table so hard the silverware struck up a rousing dissonance, casting more than a few annoyed looks in their direction. "Sailor Jupiter won't be caught unaware anymore. For Rei-chan and Ami-chan, I have to succeed!"
       She grabbed up her attaché case, her own words rousing her to dance out of the booth. Obviously, the meeting was at an end. But though Makoto was ready to run off, she was stopped by a fist clutching the long pleats of her skirt, a motion sudden enough that she pitched backward onto the dark-haired prince's lap. Usagi, whose fist had pulled her, launched herself as well into his lap to hug her friend tight, squealing, "Mako-chan, don't be captured! I don't want any of you to disappear on me again, never, never!"
       It was quite the heartwarming, if humorous, scene, as Mamoru began to turn red with lack of air and about around 200 pounds of pressure on his legs. Finally, however, the odango-haired blonde released Makoto, and she slid away with a stammered apology to the wheezing prince, making good on her escape from the parlor with an embarrassed laugh and a wave.
       Though she wanted to begin her lessons at the dojo (which had much to do with the fact that her new teacher was incomparably handsome), she knew her homework wouldn't wait, hence her quick exit from her friends who, she knew, would have homework as well. She stared mournfully up at the glass, catching the motion of Minako's arm as she waved again; she returned it before losing herself in the throng of pedestrians.
        That, and she wanted to forget what the long-haired blonde had said.
       Sighing, she swung her case limply at her side as she walked, barely watching the crowd as she usually did, hoping for a glimpse of a single, cute boy her age. But she still noticed the flashes of black that passed her by; people holding single roses, arms full of them, and all of them the same pitch black the boy at the parlor had. "Is everyone in the midst of some major change?" she murmured.
       After a while, her curiousity got the better of her, and she finally dared to stop one of the people to ask them where they had bought the rose. The name of the store was unknown to her, which was strange; she had, by sheer tenacity, sought out every single shop in the city that sold plants and flowers. But the Ayakashi Flower Garden was either newly-opened, or recently changed over.
       It took a mere bus ride to get there from her apartment, though she caught it several streets away. (And stopped several times at the various knickknack and grocery stores they passed by, but who counted that?) And when she did get there, it was a strange experience; almost every single person in front of the store had a rose. Not red, not yellow, not even pink, but black.
       Arms laden with bags, the tall brunette stepped off the bus to find herself within a cloud of near-dizzy fragrance. She gasped in appreciation, breathing in deeply of the rich scent, her eyelids fluttering. This was a scent she had never smelled before, and it smelled heavenly, like a memory of her mother's perfume that was never exactly the same as the reality. And it looked as if the store carried nothing but the roses, and why not, if they smelled so good?
       She managed to maneuver her way inside, moaning as the scent closed in on her like a wonderful blanket. The vases on the wall, in the window, the wreathes and arrangements, were all black and perfectly in bloom or in tight, elegant buds. Touching one felt like living velvet beneath her fingers; it even seemed to move. She plucked one bloom and one bud, and took them to the front counter - or at least, where the counter seemed to be, hidden by the immense crowd. There was no real line, so she simply waited.
       The woman at the counter gave her a smile that seemed to say, "I want to eat you."
       But she said, "And are you ready to purchase?"
       "Ah….hai," Makoto said at length finally, holding out her two roses. "Everything is so beautiful, I decided to be simple and buy one of each."
       That same smile on her face, the woman wrapped the flowers in tissue paper the colour of emeralds, selecting it at seemingly random from an array of different shades, and tied it with a pink ribbon. Tapping at her register, she held out a manicured hand for Makoto's wrinkled yen notes, saying, "You look like a strong-willed girl. I hope your boyfriend enjoys your gift."
       The tall brunette's face twisted as she took her change and her flowers. "I…I don't have a boyfriend. I was buying them for myself…as a celebration of change. That's what black can mean, ne? Rebirth."
       "Of course," the lady purred, watching as she backed away. She smoothed a hand over her hair, green as the paper in Makoto's arms, tucking back an errant strand as she called, "Next!"
        Makoto exited the store as Petz let her fingers touch the crystal of her earring, heavy and smooth, and smiled with knowing anticipation. "And death always comes before rebirth, pretty little sailor soldier."

       In the night, they grew.
       Twisting, tangled vines, like a maze against the victorious prince, crept and twined around their victims. People awoke screaming, only to be cut suddenly short as the thick greenery encased their bodies in a cocoon, feeding on their energy to release a noxious cloud of their own; anger, treachery, jealousy. Phantom-like it slowly spread.
       Many of these unfortunates were sleeping, but many more still had been conscious when the first tendril wrapped around their ankles. They heard the crack of clay as vases broke from their burden, and then, silence; rooms were filling rapidly with the growth of new blooms, their scent now like rotten fruit and flesh.
       Alone in her apartment, Makoto straddled the line between both worlds of consciousness and sleep, sitting at her small kitchen table with a book of English proverbs and a half-written report next to it. Several times she had nodded off, only to catch herself suddenly just above the pages of her book; her neck was killing her, and the tea she kept chugging down wasn't helping. Tapping her pen, chewing it, and even turning on the radio did nothing. Drool had already darkened a spot in the middle of the page.
       "Why does English have to be so hard!" she cried finally, smacking her pen down in aggravation. "Nothing makes sense!"
       She picked up her mug, slouching to the kettle to refill it and slug half of it down. The heat gave her a little perk, but that was about it. Muttering about the hopeful downfall of Western civilization and all of its linguistic oddities, she trudged around the kitchen listlessly, trying to inspire her brain to wake back up. It wasn't much exercise, however, seeing as the room was barely two and a half mat size, and she could have lain down and touched it with head and feet with ease. Hell, her shoulders even. But she kept doggedly circling, slurping down another mouthful of tea.
       Halfway through her tenth turn, she paused as a thought finally evolved from the muck in her brain; Alex was foreign. Alex was American. All Americans knew English. Therefore, Alex knew English, and she could help her with her assignment!
       Terribly quick thinker she was, all right.
       The fridge, spotted with bits of paper and the cute cartoon magnets she used to hold them up, was ravaged violently as she ripped each piece off in search of the notebook scrap she had written Alex's number on hastily during their first meeting. She went through each piece twice before realizing she had put it next to the phone itself, thinking it was an obvious place where she could find it easier, which, in retrospect, had been a smart idea. Unfortunately, it didn't work in practice, never did, and she should've known that by now.
       "….if this isn't Antonio Banderas, I don't care," Alex said by way of answering.
       "Eheh, konban wa-a, Alex-san!"
       "Makoto?" The tall red-head stared at her phone as if it were an alien being. "You're calling me at far too late in the evening for safety."
       Makoto rubbed the back of her abused neck as she paced in a circle, laughing nervously. "Hai hai, but I was…wondering…."
       "Ye-es?"
        "…if you could, ahh…help me with something?"
       "My heart is elated with the prospect," came the dry response.
       Seeing as Makoto had realized early on that Alex had something of a strange sense of humour (she was, after all, American, and they couldn't be very sane if their famous actors were representative of their behavior as a whole), she blithely went past it and said, "I have to write an English paper."
       On the other end of the line was a moment of silence. Then, "And here I thought you were going to ask me to help you with a German treatise on Fascism."
       "Ne, ne, can you help me?" Makoto cooed as she reached down to scratch her ankle, which had begun to itch suddenly.
       Alex heard her scream and then, a sudden screech of feedback as the mouthpiece of the phone hit the wall. "Makoto? MAKOTO! Shit!" The tall brunette was yelling, but the phone had apparently fallen down onto the carpet; the sound was muffled and faint. Hanging her own phone up, she began dialing Usagi's number quickly.
       In Makoto's apartment, she was rapidly running out of room. The roses, which she put in water in her living room atop her tiny television, had burst free of the vase finally, several tendrils wrapped around her ankle. She smashed her mug against the wall violently, screaming angrily as she used the handle - now bearing sharp edges where it had been part of the rest of the cup - to slash away the vines, ignoring the cuts she inadvertently gave herself in the process. The plant seemed to howl in pain as she cut the last one, and she somersaulted backwards into her kitchen.
       Her pen was saved from the table just as the poor piece of furniture was smashed to bits by an irate vine, her textbook as well. "Shimatta, how am I going to explain that!?" she lamented, ducking the same vine as it swung at her. "Jupiter Star Power, Make Up!"
       Through the magic, she could see the entire plant seem to quiver, cringing from the energy she released. When it was over she wasted no time as she swung her arm around and back, screaming, "Sparkling Wide Pressure!"
       Half of the city must have seen the explosion.
       In the living room, the windows blew outwards, sending glass and electricity out of the broken frames. Through the tiny kitchen window flew Jupiter, caught around the waist by a thick, thorned vine, which shook her madly as she hung several floors above the street. Obviously she had pissed it off.
       She screamed as it flung her up, and she tumbled through the air to thankfully land on the roof, though hard enough that she felt something snap in her side. Along with the cuts from the window, which had been a tight fit, she was feeling lightheaded and sick. Her preparations had not in least given her fair compensation for a killer plant, though she instinctively lashed out with her power again as the plant reared up.
       "Crescent Beam!" Venus shouted, and Jupiter watched as a hole burned neatly through a vine that had been ready to impale her. The long-haired blonde landed on the roof several feet away, followed by their princess and, surprisingly…
       "Get up, Jupiter!" their guardian yelled, making a leap that would have made any Olympian sick with envy. As she came down, a broadsword appeared between her hands, and she sliced through five of the vines.
       Venus ran to help, only to be smacked away; even the Crystal Guardian, despite her constant motion of hacking and cutting, was eventually thrown halfway across the roof. Sailor Moon's tiara spun through empty air, missing every target, too slow to not be anticipated ahead of time. As she reached out to catch it, a vine wrapped around her wrist, yanking her off her feet and into the air as she screamed, "Itaaaai!"
       The tall brunette reared up, smashing through the vine with a snarl of "Supreme Thunder!" As her princess fell, caught by their erstwhile guardian, she saw them staring past and behind her; and so she turned to catch the pointy toe of a boot in her chin.
       "Weak little soldiers!" Petz sneered, kicking Jupiter again in the shoulder. "And you managed to kill my sisters, my companions against your unholy alliances! I'll destroy all of you slowly, starting with the one who resonates with my spirit so weakly!"
       "You talk too much," Jupiter whispered, grabbing Petz's ankle. She yanked hard, managing to throw the woman to the roof, through it left her back open for a painful slash from one of the more powerful vines.
       She knew this was her fight.
       Even now she could see the roses flailing at her allies, keeping them away; Petz sitting up, and blasting her backwards with a rush of wind. She landed on her ass but got up, rushing the green-haired woman to tackle her, fighting a woman who was not used to physical contact. They both went down, though Petz retaliated quickly to use her wind to again send Jupiter airborne.
       "Jupiter, be careful! You promised me!" Sailor Moon cried.
       "I did…I promised, Usagi-chan…I can't fail, I can't fail!" Jupiter whispered.
       Petz touched her ear.
       All the tall brunette saw was a sparkle of crystal in the air before there was a rush of wind like none before, capturing her in a sickening spin. Flung around so violently, she felt her shoulder wrench out of her socket, though the wind was thankfully loud enough to drown it out. Venus screamed her name and moved towards her, only to be nearly gutted by a thorn the size of her hand.
       "Let Mako-chan go!" the odango-haired blonde screamed.
       Calling her weapon to her hand, she ran towards Petz, ignoring the vines, their thorns, everything, intent on her enemy. In close quarters she whipped around to bring her scepter to aim, only to stop as a tendril grabbed hold. It nearly yanked it out of her hands, and succeeded in pulling her back as Petz laughed. "Yare yare…is the battle too difficult for your weak power? Truthfully, I didn't expect much-"
       She was silenced by the touch of steel across her neck. "Your mistake. You should have expected even more," the Crystal Guardian whispered in her ear.
       Petz made the mistake of trying to look back at her captor; but then, her eyes caught the light, beautiful as it was. She stared at the dazzling glow as she heard, "…Halation."
       In the tall red-head's arms she was dust, motes of debris in the growing light above their heads. Even as the plant withered and died, and obviously along with the rest in the city, the light grew immense, blinding them all; Jupiter, so sick now she couldn't breathe, was enveloped in it before she blessedly slipped into darkness.
       Rubeus never appeared; he had no need to. He was courier, no longer messenger, and as the UFO sped away to a silver sliver in the sky, he left behind a screaming princess and what remained of her once-proud court on the rooftop.