Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Pretty Soldiers ❯ Act 26 - mugen trois : Awareness ( Chapter 26 )

       The enemy was a tireless machine, producing creatures like ragweed, or perhaps not having the control to keep such monsters in line; this was the third night in a row that the girls were forced to battle with another daimon after school hours. And unlike Ise, they had to work hard not to kill the host body, which was always an Infinity student.
       "Shimatta, it's running for the intersection!" This particular student must have lived clear on the other side of Tokyo from the school; they were having a tough time keeping it from escaping into the urban jungle that was Shinjuku. Not that the presence of the daimon were unknown, thanks to those intrepid police a week ago, which made it harder for the public to simply brush off as another Weird Occurrence. But the damage was beginning to add up, as the monster demolished windows trying to simultaneously escape their attacks and maul them like jerky treats, and no doubt any human caught in its way would suffer terribly.
       In fact, they knew it would happen, after the Crown incident.
       So Venus let loose with the strongest chain she could coalesce, and Jupiter managed to do an impressive leap off a nearby wall to put herself between the daimon and the intersection to blast it back with her lightning. Even without their erstwhile mentor there to give them hints, they were already beginning to absorb what little she'd already told them, working like rusty clockwork instead of randomly attacking and hoping for the best. "Now, let's try severing the connection; Mars, use your Burning Mandala just to the north-west of the boy's left scapula-I mean, his shoulder blade," she amended hastily, seeing the dark-haired shrine girl's eyebrow lift.       
       "I'm aware of what a scapula is, Mercury," she sighed, bringing her hands together to call her attack. This was going to take some excellent aim on her part; her Burning Mandala was stronger than her Fire Soul, but rings of flame were not made for exact targeting, and she was not well versed in the magic. And her Snake Fire was too powerful, that was obvious from Ise; she stood the risk of giving the boy traumatic burns, even if it freed him.
       And that was the plan, as it stood; instead of having Sailor Moon use her attack and turn the creature into soot, or the girls accidentally blowing it up into Flamin' Daimon Goo again, they were going to try and get the boy out of the way before nailing it. If they could do it successfully, it meant saving a lot more effort in the future, instead of dancing around the victim. They had nothing better, and no one telling them to do otherwise; the three cats were at Rei's temple, having been told to stay put.
       Venus, seeing Mars gearing up for her attack, crouched to leap up onto a light pole, expertly twisting her chain around the metal and pulling tight to yank the daimon up off its multiple legs, exposing the tendril of meat that connected the two. Not liking the situation one bit, the daimon began squealing, sounding like a pig gnashing on tin foil, and thrashed in midair. "Mars, you can do your magical ring trick any time now!" the long-haired blonde yelped, pulling the chain just a bit tighter.
       Holding out her palms to aim, Mars shouted, "Burning Mandala!" flinching slightly as the brilliant rings of fire spun into existence from seeming nowhere, arcing through the air to burn through the tendril. It wasn't a pleasant smell in the least, and it served to piss the daimon off further; it landed on its legs next to the boy, shaking like a rabid dog on the leash. Venus squawked in surprise as the pole was snapped in two, and she was whipped up and into the air as she continued to hold onto her chain.
       "The boy's vital signs are slipping! But that shouldn't be!" Mercury was staring into space again as she read her goggles, not liking the numbers. Now entirely focused on the boy's health, she ran forward as the freed daimon began to race again into Shinjuku, rolling him over to make sure he didn't suffocate against the concrete. "Answers, I need answers!" she demanded of the goggles as they continued to give her negative reports.
       "Mercury, what's happening to him?" Sailor Moon cried, running towards her. Mars and Jupiter seemed unsure of what to do; though the daimon was about to emerge into the very ward they had been keeping it away from, the boy's life was possibly at risk. If anything, Venus was most likely running to intercept the daimon even now.
       The blue-haired genius held up a hand, stopping her princess in her tracks. "Iie, Sailor Moon, all of you; go and stop the daimon, you'll do no good here! No doubt the daimon is keeping him from living, if you kill it, he'll get better." She disliked hypothesizing in such situations, but it was all she could do. "Stop it, minna!"
       There was a time when the odango-haired blonde might have argued, and strove to stay. But it was obvious that Mercury was right; and she alone had the power to destroy the daimon without wounding any innocent bystanders, whereas Mars or Jupiter or Venus would have blown it up with their attacks. With one last glance, Moon raced to follow the two as they ran down the street, leaving Mercury to rapidly think of every intrusive scan she could as she checked the boy's pulse.
       It would have been beneficial to have the Crystal Guardian and Tuxedo Kamen, and even, perhaps, the-still-as-unnamed-as-a-soldier Chibi-Usa, but they were currently a ward away in Roppongi having dinner, two old friends and a starry-eyed child who begged to go along. Trying to make it across two wards to engage in battle would have taken time, and it was nice to think that perhaps the daimon would be defeated by then. So the three soldiers pushed on, crossing into Shinjuku's bright lights and screaming crowds, a ragged open path showing them where the daimon had run. Apparently, Venus had gone either further than they thought, or she'd been unable to stop it.
       "How does it continue to live without a host?" Jupiter questioned in annoyance.
       "Perhaps not very long," Mars breathed, blinking in surprise as a camera went off in their direction, "it's bleeding."
       Sure enough, there was a path of nasty looking black blood smeared beneath their feet by the countless shoes of the crowd, though the fire should have cauterized its wound. It made sense when they saw it ahead, a black lump rising above the cars in the second intersection, having stopped traffic entirely; from its mouth leaked that viscous slime, as though it were internally bleeding.
       Around it danced Venus, snapping her Love Me Chain like a golden whip, looking like a pornographic circus tamer as she made the daimon spin in place, unable to move further lest it get attacked. Even in its possibly underdeveloped brain, it recognized impending pain and acted accordingly. But her job didn't look easy, with hordes of onlookers pressing at her back for a glimpse of both the daimon and the short-skirted girl fighting it. "Sailor Moon, hurry up!"
       "Hai, hai!" With Mars and Jupiter flanking her, power visible in both their hands in case the daimon tried one last attempt to escape, Sailor Moon pulled forth her weapon to aim.
       For the recently born, the monster seemed smart enough to recognize the gaudy weapon as its doom. It reared back again, unheeding of the pain of Venus' frantic chain lashing at it, and leapt over the crowd so fast that the soldiers couldn't even call out an attack for fear of hitting someone. Jupiter did, however, unleash a curse after her opening vanished, then promptly bellowing, "Out of the way! Get out of its way, it's dangerous!"
       "Kuso-o, that damn thing is a masochist!" Venus concentrated, strengthening the golden links of her chain as strong as possible, sending them up and out, praying it would catch somewhere. When she felt it tug, she impulsively grabbed Moon's waist, and Jupiter and Mars, recognizing her split-second plan, grabbed onto her hips.
       And then she retracted the chain, catapulting them up out of the mass of humanity and into the air, nearly two stories up in a rapid ascent that left the three girls breathless; they had never done such a stunt before, and without Venus' help, they never could again. But only her princess saw the manic smile on her face as she, too, took glee in their flight, and halted the chain's retraction. All of them could see the daimon down the street from this far up, and the cameras going off beneath them; then, it all swung by in a dizzying blur of colour as they dropped, gravity sending them on their way.

      "What are you thinking, Haruka?"
       "That we must bring this to a logical climax soon, else the enemies will initiate their plans. That our third does not awaken, and diversify our assignment."
       There was not even the slightest clink of silverware as Michiru cut her chicken, lifting a piece to her perfectly rouged lips. Though tableware like this was uncommon outside of a foreign restaurant in Japan unless the diner asked - and even then, it wasn't always available - the aqua-haired beauty was adept in their usage. Haruka couldn't even manage to touch a fork to the china without scraping and producing that irritating noise, though his lover assured him it was minute. But it was seductive as always to watch her chew with precise movements of her jaw, even swallowing with grace.
       Taking a sip of mineral water, Michiru eyed her sandy-blonde partner over the rim of the glass. "Of course. Already the number of creatures in Tokyo is becoming ostentatious; not even the media can ignore them. But that wasn't all you have on your mind…is it?"
       Haruka sighed, poking in a display of stubbornness at the steak in front of him. It was an excellent cut, Kobe beef, cooked to perfection, and on someone else's bill, and he couldn't even eat the damned thing. He had come to this dinner party only because it was to honor Michiru's performance at the Dome, recorded live for yet another of her CDs, but he was hardly in the mood to celebrate. And he knew his aqua-haired lover was in the same frame of mind, but she was a professional entertainer, and could act perfectly happy with her surroundings even if she wished to be anywhere else.
       They did, however, make the perfect upper-class couple; sitting in elegance near the glass walls of the restaurant, high atop one of Tokyo's many skyscrapers. Michiru had dressed for the concert and dinner in a green silken sheathe gown that complimented the colour of her hair and in her eyes, with matching gloves that encased her arms to their upper reaches. Her hair, left unbound as usual outside of their school hallways, cascaded down her back in a shimmering waterfall, and several women - all of them, come to think of it - had unconsciously fingered a strand of their own, feeling inadequate.
       At Michiru's side up until the concert and after its ending, Haruka was subdued in a black suit jacket and trousers, a dark blue silk shirt thrown in for colour, the top two buttons open for a glimpse of skin. But the material was expensive, the cut exquisite, and it moved as though it were alive over his body. Coupled with his tousled sandy-blonde hair that resisted all attempts to style, carelessly windblown and falling oh-so-boyishly over one perfect grey eye, not a single woman had managed to keep themselves from not staring. Of course, they knew who he was as well. His face was on many magazines these days.
       Not that any of them could ever dream of what their conversation was currently about.
       Mere mortals, all of them; not privy to the workings of their gods.
       "Those girls…" Haruka toyed with his glass instead, mildly irritated that he couldn't have a glass of wine. Celebrity status was good for many an illegal perk, but even his biggest fan wouldn't let a 15-year-old drink alcohol, especially when he was the driver. A bit of the bubbly, even, would have sufficed at this point. "Sailor soldiers, like us. Yet why did we awaken without knowledge of them in this era? And why do they seem to be involved?"
       "Perhaps because their mission is not the same as our own," the aqua-haired beauty sighed, cutting her chicken again. "You remember, surely, that the source of our light was so far away, that we had seen it but once as children and never again. Perhaps they were confined to their own planets as well, defending that light from a distance, as did we. And awake in this era, surely they've been fighting these other enemies. It would be logical, then, that they view these daimon as a new threat, and are simply doing what they know is right."
       "But we still have no idea if they were truly enemies at all that caused that violent weather, or the reality warp," Haruka countered. "And if not, it still begs the question as to what the mission is of this new soldiers; and why that girl resembles the image of our queen."
       Michiru demurred, taking another bite of meat, of salad, a sip of water. She too had seen the odango-haired blonde through the window of the Crown, marveling at the coincidence, though this girl had not silver hair, but golden. Blue eyes, instead of grey. And she was young, too young, to be the adult queen in their dreams. She remembered their past mission sporadically; protect the kingdom from outside invasion. Remain separate to ensure the containment of the talismans. Surely their queen had ruled that kingdom, in fact they were almost certain she had; and if there were a queen, perhaps, there had been a princess.
       But princesses were not sailor soldiers, and they had both seen that girl transform into a soldier. Across the street, having returned to Juuban at the realization that a daimon had appeared, they had watched the group of six hold their hands up to the sky and summon the same power as they. Watched them destroy the daimon clumsily, and then, strangely, fake injury instead of simply fleeing the scene. When the TV interviewer had approached them, seeing their uniforms, and asked if they had witnessed the fight, they simply fudged the facts a little bit, though both of them had been curious as to why the girls had not run.
       Something golden twinkled at the corner of Michiru's vision.
       Haruka, about to mention something else on his list of problems with those girls, paused as he watched his lover's head turn to look sharply out of the window. "Michiru?" he asked lowly, knowing she could read all of the implied meaning in that one word.
       Calmly, the aqua-haired beauty reached beside her chair, lifting her slim white purse onto her lap. The hand mirror she pulled out was perhaps a bit too big to be carrying around for the purpose of checking her makeup, but it was definitely elegant and antique. Fashioned out of a golden metal, a water nymph coiled around one side of the glass, stretched as if to touch the stars, paired with a scroll of flowers on the opposite side, both slightly overlapping the surface of the mirror. Everyone who saw it was usually entranced, and many had offered to purchase it for an exorbitant fee.
       Tilting it at such an angle that only she could see its surface, she showed no surprise as the clean glass gave way to a vision of a daimon still rampaging through Shinjuku, and showing no signs of slowing down despite the blood gushing from its mouth. That was not a good sign; she saw no host attached to its hindquarters, which either meant that whatever animated them had evolved and needed no host, or it had died and still it lived on. Whichever it happened to be, it looked to be problematic, especially when she saw the streak of colours following it; the sailor soldiers. That had been the golden light she had seen; this far up, even though they were in the next ward, she had seen that flash of power through the streets.
        Removing a lipstick from her purse, she freshened her lips as she watched the soldiers descend on the daimon, only for it to evade them once more and fling itself into a theatre. Lowering the mirror, she capped her lipstick and put both back into her purse, making all of the subtle signs of preparing to leave the table; Haruka withdrew a few bills for a tip, knowing that the waiters in this particular establishment had gotten used to them from ignorant foreigners. They tended to be slightly vindictive if you didn't follow trend, even if their meal had been technically for free.
       Rising, they left the table with ease; they had done their social duty, mingled with the fans, and ate their meal, and so none of the others involved bothered them on the way to the elevator. But when they entered the empty elevator, Michiru pressed the button for the next floor down, waiting until the doors closed to remark, a bit angrily, "They've found a daimon in Shinjuku, and drove it into a theatre. We'll have to run quickly to make it."
       "A theatre! How the hell could they allow such an irresponsible thing?" Haruka cursed, mouth setting into a grim line as the doors re-opened into an empty hallway. Unlike the insanely expensive restaurant above them, the one on this floor didn't take up the entire level, and retained a hallway to allow people to mingle before going in to eat. It also gave them quick and subtle access to the stairs that led to the roof, which they headed for immediately.
       Atop the skyscraper was a violent wind that threatened to blow them over the edge as they emerged, and Michiru's dress lifted completely off her hips to expose those inner crevices as they walked briskly for the middle, though she paid it no mind. In front of her lover, whom had seen every private fold of her body, she had no shame. And the gown would soon be traded for something else perhaps just as provocative. "Perhaps tonight, we'll find out their mission."
       Haruka seemed disdainful, from the expression on his face. Instead of replying to the comment, he simply lifted his hand to the heavens as though taking them for his own, and shouted, "Uranus Planet Power, Make Up!"
       "Neptune Planet Power, Make Up!" echoed beside him, and the power lifted them from their feet, rushing through their bodies to remind them that they were no longer human, if indeed they ever had been; strength, clarity, magic surged through their bones.
       The click of heels signaled their completion, and they both poised to run, knowing that the leap to the next roof would take a lot of speed.

      Mars held her bleeding arm tightly, cursing again as another padded chair flew past her. This last half-hour had been straight out of hell, and showed no signs of getting better. Though the daimon they had chased across the Shinjuku ward was definitely weaker, unfortunately still vicious enough to cause them problems, the sudden arrival of a second from a girl inside of the theatre had been unexpected. And, unable to get into position to free the host, they had been doing the same old dance again.
       It had been only fifteen minutes since they had given up out of frustration and finally called Alex, who was surprised to know they were in danger, and angry to be surprised. But traffic in Tokyo was always a constant headache, and unless they took to the rooftops, they wouldn't be there anytime soon; they were on their own, and hating it. All of them were bleeding and bruised in some fashion.
       "Try another Supreme Thunder, Jupiter!" the long-haired blonde yelled, for the third time, still hoping that it would knock the daimon into the open so they could free its host.
       "I can barely even summon it, Venus, what do you want me to do!" the tall brunette snapped back, exhaustion obvious in her voice. Her rib was giving her trouble already, and she had poured most of her energy into the earlier battle, anticipating a quicker victory, as had they all. She simply was running out of juice.
       Sailor Moon had resorted to using her tiara, unable to use her heart moon rod with the damn monsters moving around so fast, and managed to slice one of them. Venus had ripped a leg off of the other, which did nothing more than piss it off; and Mars and Jupiter, being the ones with wide-range powers, had done nothing but continue to slam them with fire and lightning in hopes of slowing them down. "If they would only stop moving…!" the odango-haired blonde bemoaned, for the seventh time.
       The first daimon, bleeding on its feet, roared at them and charged.
       It was quite the interesting spectacle as the four girls screamed despite themselves, diving out of the way of the creature's steak-knife teeth. But in fear came clumsiness, a trait Sailor Moon had actually been proud to show less and less of in their recent battles, and instead of doing a frantic leap into the second row seats, she misjudged the height and banged her knee on a back rest. She managed a startled squeak before tumbling down between the seats, twisting to dangle by her heels and neck in the aisle, toes wriggling uselessly. And just her luck that the space was too small for her to simply slid down onto her butt; she started to slip and was crushed nearly in half, squashed. "Tasuketeee!"
       "Sailor Moon, keep your voice down!" Mars yelled, and the odango-haired blonde had a second to realize how incredibly stupid she had been before a sudden blast of hot, fetid breath choked her from above. Scrabbling with her hands at the seats behind her, she levered herself up just enough to see the daimon hovering over her, its head too large to fit to gobble her whole. It was also the low overhang that extended from the projector's booth that also kept its body from proper leverage for a proper strike, bits and pieces of which rained down on her head. "Sailor Moon!"
       The daimon wrenched its head up, diving back down for another try as she wriggled madly, unable to push herself up with those teeth coming so close, and just as unable to move sideways. And the brackish black blood that she felt spattering on her cheeks was not helping matters. As it snapped again, mere inches from her hair, she screamed, the heart moon rod re-forming back into her hand as if it had never left, and she jammed it up into its maw, forcing its teeth apart and away. Immediately it tried to bite down again, and she could feel the pressure shaking through the weapon, though incredibly, it held. "Moon Spiral Heart Attack, you disgusting monster!"
       She had never seen the results of her attack at such close range, but she had to admit that it was effective. It was too bad that the force of it also slammed her down, jaw rattled against her knees as she was forced to fold entirely, her skull bouncing against the metal rim of the seat, and her innocent rump forced to bear the weight of her sudden trip. Her heart moon rod went flying somewhere over her head, a sparkling star trailing the remnants of its power, before disappearing somewhere in the theatre. "Itaaaii, I never want to do that again," she whimpered, rubbing her aching jaw.
       Then she heard a rumbling of the ground and a wrenching scream, and realized, like a dolt, that the battle wasn't over yet. She managed to swing her legs to the side and stand, wincing as her back muscles protested, only to see the second daimon, its unconscious host now missing part of her right arm, doing a fair interpretation of Godzilla in front of the torn screen as it reared up, multiple legs kicking. The three soldiers clustered around it were surprisingly looking away, as if they were searching for something entirely different.
       Standing, she could also see the two unusual shadow silhouettes cast against the daimon's body, coming from the projection booth above. Unusual, in that she was positive everyone had run away, and by the way the two were posed, they seemed nonchalant about a bulky black creature standing in a nice normal theatre. One was in the act of crouching, and the shadow slowly stood up straight as even the daimon watched, puzzled. "This is clumsiness, sailor soldiers," one of them said coldly, berating them.
       "And who are you to say!" Venus snapped, aiming up towards the booth with a trembling finger; even she, it seemed, was fighting fatigue.
       The other shadow raised their arms above their head, and Sailor Moon's soft stunned gasp spoke for them all as the wispy outlines of a sphere of power formed around those hands, and she looked up to see it in the darkness of the booth; an aquatic blue. If she spoke an attack, it was too soft to hear; and there was the sound of the rushing waves as the power fired past them all, too quick for them to even attempt stopping, impacting the daimon and throwing it through the screen, or more accurately, throwing what was left. It was torn to shreds, ripped apart into a mess of pieces, no longer existent. The daimon's host was thrown in the opposite direction, and the three soldiers were frantic to catch her.
       Sailor Moon turned back towards the projection booth, unsurprised to see both gone. Then she ran madly down the carpeted aisle, remembering how badly she had seen the host hurt; the close-up view was not pleasant. "Kami-sama, don't let her die," she whispered as she nearly stumbled the last few feet.
       The girl couldn't have been older than Chibi-Usa, perhaps even younger, dressed in casual clothing instead of the telltale Infinity uniform. A bit bruised, most likely in shock, she was alright until one looked at what was now simply a stump, instead of a right arm; muscle and ligament was torn, hanging ragged, the bone jagged as if it had been snapped in violence like a twig. If she survived the blood loss, she would spend the rest of her life as a cripple, left-handed in a society that was still shaking off the stigma of those few aberrations and trying to not fall back on forcing them to the right. She would be doubly cursed.
       Venus had one of Jupiter's bootlaces, and she was tying the best tourniquet she could manage around the girl's stump, her expression blank and, to those who knew her well, completely devastated. Her princess, upon gaining her eyeful of the injury, let out a strangled cry, clapping her hands over her mouth; the tall brunette and dark-haired shrine girl, both crying silently, touched her on each shoulder in support. "At least," Venus whispered, licking her lips, trying again, "at least she's still unconscious."
       "We need to call for help. We can't carry her to a hospital in this condition, we could make it worse." Mars looked around as she spoke, as if a phone would materialize right there in the theatre for them to use. Of course, none did, and she started her walk back up the aisle for the double doors. She wouldn't dare attempt cauterizing the girl's arm in her present state; nearly drained, she might have given the girl third-degree burns instead of neatly linking flesh.
       The sound of Jupiter's knuckles cracking was very loud in the silence that followed, and both blondes looked up at her, not quite surprised at this display. But the look on her face was no longer sad but furious, bordering on rage as she pounding her fist into her opposite palm with a smack of fabric and flesh. "How could they do such a thing…how could they endanger an innocent life? We could have saved her from this pain on our own!" she hissed, her friends taking unconscious steps back as her voice heated up. "Now she'll be crippled for the rest of her life, if she survives! I don't understand how this could happen!"
       "Jupiter, maybe it was an accident!" Venus snapped, her comrade's anger at their helplessness only adding to her own, "the daimon was running from us, us, do you remember! We felt that attack before it was released, and we still chased it, and we could have caused this, we could have thrown off their aim!" In fact, she was sure of it, because that moment was still so fresh in her mind, the sudden sensation of a power that overwhelmed theirs, and the sound of its release that coincided with the daimon's backward step.
       Sailor Moon was silent as the two soldiers stared in anger and despair at one another, willing to come to blows over their argument - and it wasn't even really an argument, was it? - simply for an excuse to stop thinking of where to pin the blame. Having missed that crucial moment in time, the odango-haired blonde could offer no rebuttal of her own, merely stare at the ravaged body of the student they had tried to save and realize just how badly they could misjudge themselves. Because of their naivete and perhaps even her clumsiness, this girl would be missing a part of her life. And they should have been able to save her.
       Dully she recognized the slamming of the double doors, and the pounding of feet down the carpet; Mars. "The ambulance was called already, we have get out of here! Now!"
        "Mars, we can't just leave her here alone!"
       "You don't understand, I didn't call the ambulance, the crowd and the news reporters that followed us called them!"
       Oh, hell, was most assuredly what three pairs of moving lips silently mouthed.
       The three were still frozen in the act of denial when those doors opened for the third time, and a flood of lights blinded them, the overwhelming babble of questions deafening them. So used to working in relative obscurity - even Venus, to a degree; she'd never had rabid reporters chasing her down whilst on the job, only rumour mills - they had utterly no clue how to handle the rabid crowd of journalists and reporters heading for them at a ridiculous pace, microphones and pens held at the ready, cameras rolling. And they with a body on the floor.
       But they were even more surprised as the entire crowd suddenly looked around in confusion, alternately slowing down in their tracks and stopping altogether to look around in bafflement, implements of the trade drooping like dying flowers. "Na-ani? Was this an elaborate hoax?" someone called from the back. "Where did they go?"
       "The story of the day, and they vanish in front of our eyes!" another lamented, standing so close to a petrified Moon that, had he swung an arm, he would have slapped her. The soldiers, rightfully confused as well, exchanged looks of puzzled relief.
       "Ara, ara, talking about getting what you wished for!" Venus muttered.
       They crept towards the other set of doors, realizing that the student, hidden from the crowd by the first row of seats, was still visible by the reporters; like sharks they swooped towards her as they caught a glimpse, even as paramedics finally arrived, trying to shove their way through. Realizing they were in the clear, the soldiers ran like hell out into the foyer through the second set of doors, seeing a pair of very welcome faces tucked into a far corner, away from the crowd. "Mamo-chan!" Sailor Moon cried, pausing as she felt a tug at her arm.
       Alex herded the four into the women's bathroom, pausing to lock the door after them before commanding shortly, "Power down, so we can get the hell out of here. And maybe then, you can tell me what happened, and where's Mercury while we're on the subject?"
       "Mercu-Ami-chan! She's still waiting for us!" Mars stammered, shrinking every-so-faintly as she dropped her transformation and became a flustered miko, her hair tied back by a white headband.
       "Oh, no, we left her on the street with the boy!" Venus partially explained, slapping a hand to her forehead as she changed back into Minako, dirty school uniform and all.
       "The daimon's host, that we freed!" Jupiter continued, rubbing her hands in chagrin on the apron that appeared as she became Makoto.
       Their princess said nothing to end the chain of explanations as she changed into Usagi, clothed in her comfortable pajamas, her hair abruptly falling from its odango as she had not bothered to tie them up after her shower. Instead, she hugged herself tightly, bowing her head as she mourned the girl and the life they had just ruined, unable to blame it on such an unstable event as the daimon itself; no, it was their fault for not doing better. "Usagi-chan?" the tall brunette murmured thickly.
       "Come on. We need to leave before someone thinks of searching every room in the building for you. Masking your presence isn't clockwork when you four were seen before I showed up," Alex interrupted, though it was a gentle intrusion. "I'm just glad I managed to pull it off."
       "It was a neat trick, sensei," Minako sighed, toying with her skirt, trying to be thankful for small favours.
       The tall red-head shrugged it off and unlocked the door, though she did a slow double-take at what Usagi was wearing. Mumbling another of her foreign curses beneath her breath, she stared hard at their princess in concentration, and they were amazed to see her clothing begin to change, shifting over her body to become a plain pink dress.
       Of course, Alex's stumble and drop to her knees was on the whole less dramatic, but it was still cause for alarm none-the-less. "Sensei! Daijoubu!?"
       "Alex-san, you can't push yourself so hard!" Rei chastised her, realizing, after their brief conversation in Ise, what the tall red-head must have done. "If your powers are giving you so much trouble…"
       "…and have tsukimidango walking around in a pair of bunny pajamas? Someone in Tokyo would have brains enough to be suspicious, especially with a bedraggled Shinto maiden still dressed for the shrine walking out of a foreign film!" Alex waved them back, though she didn't look too steady on her feet. "Now let's get the hell out of Dodge."
       They crept out of the bathrooms in a nervous huddle - though Alex, apparently more at ease with the act of nonchalance, walked out as if it were perfectly natural to be in a bathroom at a theatre - and joined up with Mamoru and Chibi-Usa. Strangely enough, though she was usually wont to throw herself without abandon into her prince's arms, Usagi walked on by as if in a daze, head bowed and posture drooped. Mamoru frowned, hesitating in reaching out to her, unsure if he should intrude and worried as to what was causing her distress. He knew from being in similar states that he would have rather been left alone; and so he dropped his hand instead to the shoulder of his future child.
       By this point, the mob of news hounds had been driven back into the foyer, the sets of double doors locked tight as the paramedics attended to the student before attempting to move her. Even in civilian clothes, the group would have looked suspicious mingling with professionals dressed to the nines, free hands holding equipment of all types, if not for fortune blessing them with pushy bystanders who continued to duck past the police as they closed off the entire building. But those same police were also now trying to herd all of those people out.
       Alex suddenly took Mamoru's arm, snuggling up close to him as though they were indeed a couple - and as they were still dressed for dinner, the tall red-head in snug monochrome female attire for once, they looked the part - and began babbling anxiously like a frightened, empty-headed teenager. "Maa-aah! Oh, wasn't that awful? And on our first big date together, that something that hideous could attack!"
       "Na-a-ni-oh, hai, hai, it was terrible," the dark-haired prince stumbled, smoothing into a somewhat embarrassed exchange as he saw an officer turn and eye them in suspicion. "But at least we escaped safely…"
       "Ne, ne, onee-san, mama is going to be angry with you!" Minako chirped behind them, getting into the act as she practically hung off the tall red-head's arm. "You were supposed to make sure we didn't get into any tro-ouble!" she sang. It was only her determination that kept the smile on her face, and the unbridled curiousity in her voice. Truthfully, she felt like crying until the world just stopped.
       "Urusai!" Alex countered, practically stomping her foot as Mamoru looked to the heavens, more than a little surprised at the tall red-head's convincing act. The officer seemed almost relieved to usher them out past the line, for all the world looking like a young couple on a date, stuck with her little sister and her friends, of whom three seemed appropriately chastened by the night's horrific events. If they weren't traumatized, it certainly made his job all the easier.

      The traffic was diverted entering the Minatoku ward, and as the line of cars passed down a side street, they could catch a glimpse of another ambulance with its lights still on, barricading from view a forlorn little body on the concrete. Kneeling next to it, the paramedic shook her head as she held a small wrist in her hand; a white sheet, as customary, was draped over the figure. Mercury was nowhere to be found, though there was a curious spider-webbed mark in the pavement by the body's legs, as if someone had punched the concrete in a rage.

       In school the next morning, Michiru smiled pleasantly as her instructor asked again for her to show the class what she was doing. "When you attain the level of professional, as Kaiou-san has done, then I will consider you all quality students of entertainment," the blonde perked, hardly any older than the upperclassmen she taught. With wavy hair that just brushed her shoulders, held back by an unusual headband of pearls, and eyes of a golden hue, she should have been pretty, perhaps even beautiful. But she had a wicked, nasty sense of humour that was often unexpected and vicious, and she treated anyone who had no talent as beneath her notice. Even her students were the brunt of her callous attitude.
       By contrast, the cool and collected Michiru was gorgeous in the eyes of many, if not everyone. Her exquisite talent with the violin made her the unequalled top student of their entertainment class, and her grace and eloquence, coupled with her experience in the professional music business, kept her there. So their teacher was often calling on her to demonstrate her talents, to be her live model so to speak, though many of her classmates were aspiring stars and minor celebrities as well.
       Call it that edge that kept her out of reach.
       So she was able to keep her calm as Hanyu-sensei, their absentminded instructor, continued to direct her into musical acrobatics like a trained dog. Setting her violin again carefully against her shoulder, she began a simple series of scales, positioning herself on the raised platform at the front of the room as if she were at a concert. It was the poise, the attention to her music that their instructor wanted them to learn. Many of them still stood sloppily during their lessons, though they were talented students; they simply did not have the professional manner pounded into them yet.
       Smoothly she went into a fluid tempo she had written a few weeks ago, a light, yet determined song that she had done with Haruka's matching talent on the piano in mind. The tall sandy blonde had somewhat jokingly suggested they make it their theme song, and Michiru had coyly titled it 'Song of the Outer Stars.' She had actually written three short songs in the same spirit, but had not named the other two yet. And it seemed fitting, that they were outside of the world they were protecting, not of it entirely. That was not their mission to become comfortable, but to remain separate and aware.
       Bow poised, trembling, she launched into the violin's last notes, acutely recalling with sudden clarity the last battle she and her partner had intruded on. The sound of the girl's arm as it had been torn asunder like a brittle stick, the daimon wounded by the grievous injury of its host. It was a dilemma they had recognized early in their defense against the monsters; kill the host and kill the daimon. The daimon's injuries did not, for the most part, wound the host, but then they had not truly hurt the daimon they encountered without intent to kill it. Of course, from what little information they had about the host at the Crown, she had in fact been badly injured by the wounds dealt the daimon before it was destroyed. She had yet to emerge from her catatonia, and was restrained by straps and drugs, fed intravenously because she had bitten fingers.
       The new sailor soldiers were too naïve, in Michiru's opinion. Too naïve and inexperienced, no matter what they may have encountered before. For Uranus and Neptune, whom had perfected their aim on the monsters before they had grown into gross creatures needing human hosts, they had no need to flinch when striking them down. They knew the risks. They knew that the host was better off dead if the daimon was not stopped, immediately.
       But from what they had heard of the soldiers' conversation in the theatre, these were children with roles still out of their conception. They didn't think of themselves as warriors, dedicated to stop the evil before it infiltrated their world and ruined everything. No, they saw themselves as heroes who flinched at any danger, who considered the unimportant life of one over the combined lives of the many. Their attempt to protect the host when a simple combination attack at the daimon could have won the day within minutes was flawed.
       Michiru knew the girl was lucky to be alive, and though she wished, simply, that she had not lost her arm, it was a minor loss in the entire picture. The girl lived. The daimon died. And it was not Uranus who had wounded that girl; it was the incompetence of the four sailor soldiers that had put the girl into harm's way. Unforgivable.
       And the shadow that loomed over her was thus: she, and Haruka, were not so cold hearted that they truly thought everyone worthless. The hosts were their classmates, peers, and academic adversaries, real people who had not asked to be involved so cruelly. To save them all was a blessing from the kami and all their shades, but to defeat the enemy, they couldn't flinch. This was a war.
       With a casual smile that could win hearts and strike fear into those very same muscles, she finished the piece with a flourish, bowing in respect to the class. "You see? Professional attitude! That is why Kaiou-san commands crowds all across Japan!" Hanyu-sensei seemed almost more proud of Michiru's accomplishments than the aqua-haired beauty herself. Of course, Michiru had her pride, she knew she was almost unequaled with her instrument within her age group, and she made sure every single concert was unique and perfect. But to a point, it simply didn't matter; though she wished, in a solitary corner of her mind, that she had no duties as a sailor soldier, she was Sailor Neptune, and that meant sacrifice.
       One day, she might die in the service of…well, of whomever she was in service to. The lovely queen in her dream, perhaps. But it would happen. And Kaiou Michiru and all of her skills would be sand.
       The recorded bell struck, signaling the lunch hour, and the aqua-haired beauty internally sighed with relief. Because the school was not structured like a common Japanese institution - the students didn't remain in one class the entire day, their teachers coming to them - she had to make it back to her homeroom and her cubby to lock up her instrument before meeting Haruka. She was always grateful for the respite, the walk across the building, though quick, an excellent time to think. At her former school, she had to merely reach into her desk and remove her lunch.
       Locking up everything, she took the elevator down to the ground floor - walking so many floors would be useless, and she would make it just in time for the hour to end - and exited out of the building into the common area where most of her grade was now eating. Passing the swimming pool, she paused to admire the steady pace and strong form of two upperclassmen practicing the butterfly, only to feel a familiar pair of warm hands touch her arms. "Ara ara, are you considering replacing me, Michiru?" a voice growled low in her ear, though there was an undercurrent of laughter beneath the harsh rumble.
       "Never, Haruka. I was merely admiring the consistency of their stroke. Perhaps they will finally beat the rival swim team this year with such excellent form," Michiru replied, feeling the hands and the body move away.
       "Perhaps. Though I do admire the form of the brunette on the right; Takashi-san, is it not? Would she give me swimming lessons if I asked?" Haruka laughed, dodging Michiru's playful swat at his arm.
       They walked on together, to the wood and steel bench they had appropriated for themselves their first day at the school, situated under mature trees that had been transplanted from a construction site across the city. Many of the other trees were not so large yet, freshly planted at the school's opening and still growing, and their spot was highly coveted; but Haruka was convincing enough to keep everyone else away. Already both of their lunches sat waiting, both in nondescript bento boxes, though they were lacquered to shine and covertly expensive.
       "A beautiful day," Michiru remarked as she opened hers, lifting her chopsticks. "I hope nothing spoils it."
       Haruka took a sip from his can of green tea, frowning. "You know better than to wish for such a thing, Michiru; the enemy would never wait for weather. And especially after our last encounter!"
       "Strange, is it not?"
       "Nani?"
       "How we always find ourselves at a meal when discussing our important mission." Michiru lifted a small pickled plum, eyeing her partner. "But you're right, of course; our last encounter was not a victory by any means. And we find ourselves with a new problem on our hands; the interference of children."
       "You put it excellently, Michiru; children. Naïve, clodding infants. The powers of legend, and they could hardly destroy two daimon!" Haruka angrily lifted a clump of rice, dipping it into the sauce container in his other hand. Eating the morsel, he then lifted a sausage before adding, "but how can we convince them to remain out of our battle? Obviously, this is not their jurisdiction; we've both learned that much. Invaders from outside of the solar system are our enemies, not theirs, or else we would have known of them as we did one another."
       Michiru paused, considering that very dilemma. Their dreams had told them of their roles as defenders of the outer reaches of the solar system, confined to their separate planets lest the three talismans meet. But the queen who had given them access to those powers, the benevolent, smiling lady with the crescent moon upon her brow, resembled the girl at the Crown. Even she had seen it. "I'm not sure, Haruka," she admitted finally, taking a sip of tea herself, grimacing only slightly at the metallic taste. "Truly, if that girl were the queen of our dreams, she would recognize us. And if she were the daughter of the queen, the princess, then we would be under her authority. Simultaneously, we would be beholden to protect her."
       "Perhaps we should confront them. Tell them our mission, and that they're simply too inexperienced to fight these enemies. Especially a princess…"
       The tall sandy-blonde was caught by a sudden vivid memory of the odango-haired blonde in the arcade, smiling in rapt attention with her friends. Such innocence, so obviously not a hardened warrior capable of battle. Even her four friends, despite their soft hearts, seemed more at ease with fighting and sacrifice, especially the long-haired blonde. But the girl with her heartfelt smile and innocent laughter seemed more the pampered, protected child. As if she weren't meant to be a soldier at all.
       Michiru was puzzled by her partner's lengthy, sudden silence, her storm-cloud eyes staring off vacantly towards the imposing building of their school. Far too cultured to simply shake her awake or slap her into consciousness, the aqua-haired beauty was considering simply pinching Haruka's hand when a shadow fell over them both, and a piercing, "Kaiou-san!" cut through her thoughts.
       "H-Hanyu-sensei," she stumbled, smoothing through into a gracious smile and demure bow from her seat. "Is there something you require of me?"
       "Iie, Kaiou-san! I just wanted to remind you of our performance tonight! After all, it's so important."
       As if I could not remember such a simple event myself, Michiru thought rather nastily, momentarily angry that their privacy had been disturbed for something so trivial. The performance in question was scheduled for next week at the Tokyo Dome, her second of the month, broadcasting live on the radio, to raise money for the families of the students whom had been, to put it pleasantly, 'recently attacked.' Not that Michiru, personally, understood how money would return the Hanagawa's son to them, or aid the rich Hosoda in paying for more doctors and psychiatrists for their catatonic daughter. But she did know why the school did it; to remain innocent.
       And lucky for her, she was blessed with having to jointly perform with Hanyu, a minor idol herself and not a terribly good singer. But they were both celebrities, and that was why they were placed together; to rake in the most cash. And Hanyu was actually a lesser evil considering some of the underclassmen that were performing before them.
       So she simply continued to smile, despite her strong need to sigh, and said, "Of course I remember, Hanyu-sensei, and as always, I will be there promptly." A slight against Hanyu, who was perpetually late to her own concerts; but of course, she was too well mannered to insult the blonde, and so it was ignored. Michiru preferred it that way.
       "Mochiron! And as for Ten'ou-san, will, ah, he be attending?" Hanyu asked slyly, eyes flicking over to survey the tall sandy-blonde, who seemed to finally be aware of his surroundings and looking up.
       "Hai. Will you?" Haruka, on the other hand, was not quite so well mannered.
       Hanyu's face creased with a sudden anger, and at her side, her hand unconsciously clenched as if to grasp a weapon. Both students saw it, and remained cool in the face of whom they knew was their enemy; and she, as if remembering that she was constrained by certain rules, opened her fingers. "Rudeness does not become you, Ten'ou-san," she hissed quietly, turning on her heel to stalk away, a blonde thundercloud.
       "That was unwise, Haruka," Michiru murmured, smiling wryly.
       The tall sandy-blonde grunted, eyeing the remains of his lunch. "She'll be dead soon enough; I'm not particularly worried. But her untimely arrival does give me an idea." Pausing to take one last morsel before closing up the box, Haruka smiled at his partner thoughtfully and said, "How many extra tickets do you have?"

       This was the life; privacy, Internet, and school still in session for three more hours.
       Yes, indeed, Artemis was in talking kitty heaven.
       The computer he sat in front of was indeed an impressive piece of hardware, small and sleeker as new trends in technology dictated, with a 19-inch flat screen that was more than adequate for his needs. Voice-activated, he needed no opposable thumbs to work the small keyboard, rolled out of sight beneath the desk; he purred, he growled, he sang the commands and everything worked like precision clockwork. He didn't even need to stop munching on the raw shrimp he had been given as lunch, tails neatly removed.
       "Not even a permanent teacher list?" he muttered to himself, tapping a claw on the seat, mindful of the fabric. The roster of Infinity Academy scrolled in front of his eyes, many boxes blocked out for 'privacy' or 'rotating.' And the student list was even worse; apparently, the school's cutthroat reputation for excellence was not a legend. Students were being constantly expelled, more enrolled in their place, if their grades slipped too far. Many were, again, also blocked out for privacy.
       But as the tall red-head had promised, the computer itself was intelligent enough to simply hack, chivvy, and outright finagle the information he needed. After all, even if the teachers came and went, the management needed to keep up-to-date and accurate information on their students, and Artemis was soon greeted with a veritable flood of pictures and detailed biographies on the entire student body. And for a school that contained an entire education system from elementary to college, it was nearly overload. His eyes crossed momentarily as the computer listed all of the entries…all of the junk he would have to digest.
       And of course, Luna and Diana weren't up here helping him, oh no; they were downstairs with Alex, planning the first of what would be regular practice sessions for the girls. Important, no doubt, but he personally thought it could wait; ah, but the life of a token whipping boy was difficult to shoulder.
       He was, though, honestly surprised that Luna seemed to accept the tall red-head's interference with their lives so easily, in her own manner; she would still question Alex if she thought it necessary, and referred to her only in the respectful suffix. But after their trip to the 30th century, she had really come to trust Alex. Perhaps it had been her rebuke at Luna questioning her authority, or maybe she had gained enough of her memories to remember, and act accordingly. Or just maybe she had gone through her own mourning period, as Usagi had; Artemis knew that the black feline had come to like Moriya, even if she had been a respective outsider to their fight.
       The black feline was definitely more complex in this lifetime than he recalled of their previous, but the results were always the same.
       Nipping up the last shrimp, he licked his teeth and set more properly to work: "Alphabetical order, first grade through last." The machine was smart, all right; he didn't need to be descriptive unto death to get it working. As he watched, the tangle of text disappeared, replaced with a full screen of the very first student, a boy, in the kindergarten class. The son of a prominent politician too, he noted; perhaps Rei knew his father. Or mother, he corrected himself, through it was most likely the former in their society.
       Finding unusual medical conditions in the student body of Infinity was a long shot, but they couldn't puzzle out any other means of research to pinpoint the daimon; or even, if the students were hand-picked for such monsters. It was obvious enough that the school harbored the creatures, as no other students had become atavistic save for those from Infinity, but the obvious didn't include the reasons why, or even if they could prove it. Or, so far, how they could prevent similar tragedies as the theatre from occurring, as that night had given them more questions than answers. Too many specific questions.
       "Search history for medical conditions."
       His eyes crossed again as the computer, running on what Alex had called 'RAM up the ass and gigahertz processors to make anyone sick,' searched through every single entry, sorted them, and, to Artemis, seemed to discard perhaps ten entries. (In a country where nuclear bombs had been dropped fifty years ago, perhaps he shouldn't have been so optimistic about the medical factors.) He twitched. "Kami-sama," he groaned, scratching vigorously behind his ear. "I am not reading all of this. I refuse."
       "Refuse what, otou-san?" The clear ringing of a tiny bell had the white feline maneuvering the chair around adeptly - oh, for the marvels of swivel seats! - to see his daughter standing there, one small paw poised to step over the threshold. He could also smell from his position the rather heady smell of rose and jasmine.
       "Diana, why do you smell like a beauty shop?" he queried, deftly ignoring the previous question with an ingenuity he was proud of.
       She settled onto her rump, sniffing her paw curiously as though she hadn't even noticed her new personal odour, and remarked, "I smell like jasmine and rose, Alex-sama told me. Is that what beauty shop smell like, otou-san?"
       "Ano…sometimes, Diana." He held in a sigh; it was easy to forget that in his future, it was effectively moored in the past. A society just beginning to prosper obviously didn't have the time for elegant haircuts and manicures. Though his statement had been more of a personal reminisce than common reality; he had often passed such a shop as a kitten that filled its windows with jasmine and rose potpourri. Another commodity the future likely did not have. "But why do you smell like that?"
       "Alex-sama said I had a flea on me, and okaa-san said they were bad and they bite, which I don't know about but okaa-san is always right, and so Alex-sama said I was going to need a bath, and okaa-san too, and okaa-san is hiding under the couch in the living room right now, but I don't know why." She blinked slowly as her father seemed to convulse on the chair, eyes crossing strangely. "Otou-san?"
       "A bath? You let her give you a…bath?"
       "Of course. Baths are fun! Small Lady and I play Sink the Magical Ship all the time, and once we used one of Jupiter-sama's hats, and she was so upset at us -"
"Diana, cats don't take baths. We bathe ourselves." Though on second thought, that seemed rather ridiculous to expect; living in a beautiful palace probably brought with it an unusual lifestyle. No doubt he and Luna had been brainwashed into enjoying such torture along with their poor, innocent child.
        And then, on third thought, which he vocally expressed: "You don't know what a flea is, Diana?" Of course, as soon as he asked, he realized how stupid a question that must have been; the future they had visited had an ice cube for centuries. Not even the roaches seemed to have survived, so why would the fleas? There were no pets, and domestic animals seemed to be in short supply, hardly the sort of thriving culture for the pests. "Gomen ne, Diana. Of course you wouldn't know."
       She regarded him curiously, her head tilting in what was an astonishing mirror of Luna's gesture, though her childish innocence was uniquely her own. In fact, she held the pose for so long, staring at him in that manner, that he wondered if the bath water had poisoned her, thereby proving his secret hypothesis that soap was an instrument of the devils. "Diana?" he hazarded, poised to leap and drag her by the scruff downstairs to her mother.
       "Otou-san…I make you uncomfortable."
       "-na-ani?" Well, that was certainly not what he expected, and rather like an anime character, he stumbled just as he was about to jump, falling flat on his face.
       He could hear the jingle of her bell as she raced on tiny paws to his side, whimpering, "Otou-san, otou-san!" over and over again. She nosed his face, looking relieved as he flopped over onto his back, groaning but obviously alive. "Otou-san, daijoubu desu ka?"
       "Hai, hai," he whimpered, twitching his nose to make sure it wasn't smashed up into his skull. The reassuring tickle of his whiskers helped. "Diana, you're my daughter. My offspring. My proof that Luna and I are meant for one another in marital Mau bliss." Mau…huhm. Where had that come from? His eyes threatened to cross again at the resurgence of some old memory, and he pushed it back down firmly. "In any event, how can you say you make me uncomfortable?"
       "Ano…but I do. You seem sad to mention that I'm from the future. That I don't know what fleas or beauty parlors or fuel-propelled vehicles are." Dropping onto her belly, she looked him in the eye with her own shocking pink twin iris, a genetic quirk that still had him boggling. Only albino had such eyes, and yet she, and Chibi-Usa, were recipients of such unusual pink. How could it happen? For the love of the kami, he had green eyes, and Luna and their prince and princess all had blue. And he was pretty positive that all of their families were lacking in such an unusual colour.
       He was also drifting, and he shook his head to clear it. Frowning, he thought on what she said, and was all set to argue the case, when he realized quite plainly that she was right.
       Staring up at the screen and the vacant stare that greeted him, he considered Mamoru one lucky fellow at the moment; surely, dealing with his future offspring was not nearly as difficult. Chibi-Usa was not the doting daughter in their presence, but more of a young child, acting independently of their relationship. She didn't even call them 'mama' or 'papa' as she had Neo Queen Serenity and King Endymion; but by their given names. How easy it must have been to forget.
       But Diana had no such attitude towards her parents, and in fact reminded them of it every time she spoke. To them, they were not Luna and Artemis, two alien felines still unsure of their feelings for each other, but her mother and father, secure in their relationship. A child they would raise in a future barren of the simple luxuries they took for granted now, and that he continued to find mildly embarrassing; how could he enjoy them now, knowing that she would be lacking when she went home? Explaining the simplicities of even the value of currency was daunting to him, and he knew Luna found it slightly tiring as well.
       Rolling to all four paws, he hung his head in shame, mumbling, "Gomen nasai, musume-chan. I owe you an apology."
       "Iie, otou-san! Just stop being uncomfortable!" Licking his cheek, she giggled. "I like it when you and okaa-san explain everything to me. Only loving, caring parents would be so gentle."
       He seemed at a loss.
       That was when the door opened, omitting the tall red-head, carrying another plate of fresh shrimp and chunks of tuna - Luna's favourite - and the very same feline, smelling like a garden and looking aggrieved. "How's the investigative work going?" Alex queried, an eyebrow lifting at the sight of father and daughter on the floor, not looking as though they were doing any actual work. The empty plate floated to her hand as though it were perfectly natural, the full plate taking its place.
       Artemis raised a similar eyebrow at that, but said nothing. Instead, he just waved a paw at the screen. "You tell me. Infinity students are medical nightmares; going through all of this is going to take hours."
       "Then perhaps medical conditions have nothing to do with the daimon in their bodies," Luna interjected, frowning. "If so many have medical conditions…"
       "…then why aren't more students going atavistic?" Alex finished, pressing her thumbnail against her lower lip. "It doesn't make sense, but it's all we have to go on."
       Shrugging in uneven unison, the tall red-head took the chair whilst the three felines bounded up onto the desk, settling in to read. Or more accurately, after about five lengthy minutes, listening; the computer vocalized all of the entries in a strange monotone that sounded like a college professor at the lectern. Luna felt like falling over asleep; Alex, strangely, seemed to be keeping herself from snickering.
       The students were fairly reasonable for their conditions, nothing seriously debilitating. In two hours, they came across one of the hosts; the girl still in the hospital, Hosoda Kimiko. She had been the fifth grade class president. The brightness of her smile in the photograph was heart-rending, considering her current condition. She had two older brothers, her mother long dead from cancer, her father rich enough to buy the school. "Perhaps wealth is a reason…?" Luna mused.
       "If so, there's a lot of rich kids attending the school as well," Alex muttered. Their money had not gotten them into the prestigious academy directly, but having access to excellent prep schools and better tutors most assuredly gave them the advantage.
       In the sixth grade, most of the students were merely far or near sighted, until they came across: "'Tomoe, Hotaru. Metal implants, migraines, seizures, low blood pressure'," Diana parroted, frowning at the terminology. "What are 'implants'?"
       "Devices doctors put into your body to help you, like a steel rod to brace your spine, or a fake heart." Alex propped her chin with one hand, elbow rudely on the desk. "And as this is the daughter of Tomoe Souichi, I'd say she probably has a lot of them. Her miraculous recovery after the fire."
       Artemis frowned, peering closer at the somber, unsmiling face of the raven-haired girl. "She looks familiar."
       "I don't see how, this is the first time I've even seen her face. There aren't any pictures of her where I found the information on her father. I don't even have a picture of him," the tall red-head remarked thoughtfully, rapping her knuckles on the desk.
       Hotaru continued to stare out at them with a vacant, nondescript expression on her face, as though nothing in the world mattered to her at the moment of the picture taking. It was actually rather sad to see; only a child who had gone through so much trauma could be so apathetic towards the world. "How miraculous was her recovery, Alex-sama?" Diana peeped up, licking a paw.
       "I would guess 'amazingly' miraculous, Diana." Reaching under the desk, she tapped on the mouse, magnifying Hotaru's picture a few times to fill the entire screen. Lounging back in her chair, she put a foot up on the edge of the desk, frowning. "Look at her. For someone who survived a blazing inferno and nearly died, she looks amazingly pristine. Even skin grafts should have left some sort of scarring, and such intense heat would have meant serious surgery, maybe even reconstruction. But nothing. She looks like a china doll fresh out of the factory."
       "She does look very healthy and whole," Luna agreed. "But for the daughter of a research scientist, perhaps she was given special treatments that he had invented."
       "Always possible. But still strange."
       Without needing to ask, Alex reached back to save the picture and accompanying information for later use. Another click, and Hotaru disappeared, only to be replaced with the next student in line. "Are the girls up to investigating the academy?" she asked thoughtfully as the computer droned.
       Luna and Artemis exchanged similar looks. "Investigate how?"
       "Well, I've already checked out the schematics of the building, security measures, and working hours. No one but card-carrying students of Infinity Academy, similar faculty, and invited visitors with passes can enter; no one can just walk in and ask for a tour. That rules out the girls acting nonchalant and just waltzing in," Alex said, ignoring the worried looks on the feline's faces. "Breaking in after hours would provide us possible proof, but not if everything is either hidden or taken off grounds. The only other option is disguising the girls as students somehow, or making ourselves a visitor's pass."
       "You seem rather thorough about this, Alex-sama," Diana noted curiously.
       "I take pride in my work. But the reason I ask is because I don't think this way of research will get us anywhere. The only reason we've even come across one of the known hosts is because her injuries count as a medical condition; otherwise, she wouldn't even fit the bill."
       And that was true; Kimiko looked to be, from her history - hastily re-accessed - the epitome of health. Not even a problem with her vision. And if one of the hosts had no medical condition to speak of, yet had been carrying a daimon, what other reason could there be? Though, as the faces ticked by, they wondered if that was the problem; that was no reason at all. After all, they had a whole school at their disposal to pick and chose from.
       A school that held some of the brightest young geniuses Tokyo - and judging from the information, from all of Honshu - within its walls. And that was a frightening thought indeed.
       "So what else can we do?" the tall red-head sighed, chin in hand. She sounded mildly disgruntled that she even had to ask the feline's 'permission,' as it were, to investigate the school. And it was hard not to be; she was used to doing such work on her own, and not bothering with anyone else. But now, she had the girls to consider, and they were certainly not going to become criminals if she - if the felines - could help it.
       Artemis touched a paw to his nose in a rather human gesture, suggesting, "Perhaps Mina could do it. After all, with her compact, she can transform into a student, blend in; she would be excellent for subterfuge."
       "But could she do it alone, Artemis?" Luna sounded concerned. And at the white cat's wry smile, she seemed outright worried; that was never a good sign, in her estimation.
       Her eye ticked as Artemis and Alex exchanged what looked to be amused glances, a shared, unsaid joke. "Daijoubu, Luna," the white feline purred, slyly tweaking her whiskers with his tail. "I know you've become used to the loud, scatterbrained Mina, but in reality-"
       "-she's worse," Alex interjected dryly.
       "-she's actually excellent at working solo," he continued doggedly, though he couldn't quite contain his snigger, "as it was essential for Sailor V's mission. And her compact could also transform her into second, false identities as she needed. After all, 'Sailor V' was in essence a false identity."
       "Hai; as was the princess, wasn't it?" Luna sighed, lowering her head. But unlike former remembrances of that deception, she sounded only sad, no longer upset. Now, it was in hindsight a smart move; then, it had been terrible. "Could the other girls use it? Her compact?"
        "In a group, okaa-san?" Diana asked in perpetual curiousity. The black feline nodded, giving her a grateful smile. Brilliant genes, and obviously from her side of the family.
       Alex glanced back at the screen, Kimiko's face still frozen in her smile. "The compact was designed for one person only. Serenity's family had given it as a gift; it was originally nothing more than a simple illusion spell for them to appear more lovely, or maybe slender, or taller. Cheap tricks for parties." She pressed her fingers against her temple, rubbing once in a slow circle. "After everyone was sent away, before the final ruin of the kingdom, Serenity and I made plans for the future. She…interfaced with the kingdom's computer, put her spirit into its guts, and we planned. We salvaged items from her rooms, the royal vaults; the compact was one of them.
       "Through the lingering magic of the crystal, we empowered it further, gave it the ability to physically alter the user, not just vex the viewer's mind. We had planned for Venus to use it, if she ever had to wake up, to create the charade of the princess, because though the compact can alter the body, it can only use what's already there. Mars couldn't become a blonde, for example. But she could use it to give herself a different haircut, a new outfit, even lengthen or shorten her height.
       "There was also a pen; I think I asked you about it once, Luna. That was a similar tool, intended for Sailor Moon, to further mask her power as the Moon Princess, but when she awoke it proved unnecessary. Her ignorance did the job adequately, and since you never called it forth, I'm assuming it was destroyed in the fire."
       All three cats were silent, turning over the information in their minds. Though Artemis recalled enough of the Silver Millennium to vaunt his knowledge over Luna, he knew only his own experiences, and sporadically at that. Luna could barely remember even her life; and Diana, though privy to the knowledge both had learned by the time of her birth, didn't know much more than they did at the present time. And from Alex's somber, quiet tone, it sounded as if it were quite upsetting for her to even remember this for their benefit.
       The clock sang the hour, three times. Sighing, the tall red-head added, "I say Minako should disguise herself as a junior high student, and I can go with her as her mother. That explains the reason for us to visit, and could finagle a tour out of one of the teachers."
       "That sounds like a good plan, Alex-san," Luna agreed finally, glancing at Artemis as he nodded as well.
       "I do my best work under pressure," she bantered back mildly, crossing her stretched legs at the ankles. Reaching out, she rapidly tapped at the keyboard, and the entire search was saved, shelved, and set aside. "So the medical angle is useless in separating the hosts from the normal students. That leaves us with nothing but a dead-end."
       The black cat absently leaned over and nipped at Diana's back, removing a tiny drowned flea from her fur, straightening back up; she seemed rather unaware that she had even done such a motherly gesture. "Then the girls face the same random attacks as before," she sighed, eyes rolling up to catch sight of the clock again, though only a few minutes had passed. "We can't solve that. But we can discuss our other problem, Alex-san; or, more accurately, you can tell us." She looked up at the tall red-head, who stared back with an utter calm that Luna realized she really didn't appreciate.
       "Hai, hai," Artemis murmured, his tail doing a worried staccato on the tops of his front paws. This had been the penultimate question he had shelved within his mind, not wanting to think on it alone, not willing to confront Alex personally. "The two in the projector room. Our mysterious attackers…"
       Luna neatly captured a chunk of tuna between her teeth and ate with the elegant dignity of a purebred feline, just as easily ignoring Artemis' subtle adoration of her poise. "I find myself a bit worried at the girls' descriptions. Two women, by the sounds of their voices, attacking with magic? Attacking a creature fearlessly, when any other powerless human would have run? Only sailor soldiers would be able to perform such attacks, but who are they?"
       Almondine eyes narrowed a bit further, but Alex remained silent, waiting, perhaps, for them to answer it for themselves. Indeed, the white feline spoke up then, remarking, "But we knew others could have woken. The entries in the computer…Mamoru, you, Alex-san, Pluto perhaps. But that takes care of them all. Who else could it be; someone, perhaps, that we can't remember?"
       Minako had been the only truly clear-headed one out of the group to give them reasonably accurate information of the battle, though Rei, after a day of solitude, added to it. Makoto fluctuated between anger at the duo's seeming disregard for the host, and depression over what had happened to her, and gave them a description that was rather useless; Usagi they had not even bothered to ask. And most vexingly, Ami would not even speak of the night; she steadily refused to acknowledge what had happened, and they had finally dropped it. But all of it had pointed to a very concrete fact; that two women had intervened during the theatre battle; that they had attacked the daimon with more power than any of the girls had; and that they knew how to destroy the creature.
       But who could have woken? They knew that the five soldiers in action now had been the princess and her court, and they had been on the Moon during the attack. Pluto was guarding the door, and hadn't been involved, so she survived to greet them on their trip to the future. There were three planets unaccounted for, but if that were the case, why had they not been awoken with them? Why now?
       Alex looked to be brooding now, sliding down a bit in her chair. "I'm not sure," she said finally. "There were others during the Silver Millennium, but they were…distant. Uninvolved with the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom, but protecting it all the same. But they weren't on the Moon that day…none of them should have come forward." She glanced at the waiting computer screen as if for reassurance, and was greeted by her silent Johnny Depp desktop, smiling wryly but giving no answers. "All I knew of them was what I was told. Most of the kingdom believed them legendary, their planets long rendered uninhabitable by disease and a war their soldiers had stopped. Nothing of interest for the other peoples, and they passed into obscurity, though they remained active."
       "The three planets unaccounted for." And the furthest away, save for Pluto; that fact didn't escape anyone's notice. "Saturn. Neptune. Uranus."
       "Not Saturn. I don't even think a Sailor Saturn exists; that planet had been destroyed even before Neptune and Uranus, killing everyone. The only survivors would have been off world, and long absorbed into the local cultures. And Serenity would never answer me when I pressed the topic." Lapis lazuli slid away again as she recalled those near-arguments, brought on by what she felt was uselessness due to Serenity's refusals, her inability to protect the royal family and its kingdom without all of the facts. Everything the queen would tell her, sometimes thinly concealed behind a veil of misdirection, but on the topic of the planet Saturn she was tight-lipped.
       The archives had given her the story of the kingdom of Saturn's destruction, of attack from invaders fearing their defenses, of Neptune and Uranus unable to save it, but able to take revenge. It remained in that time as it was now; a giant ball of gas, warped into an unlivable - by Earth standards - planet, with its lonely rings of debris from the attack, and its similarly destroyed moons, which had once been terraformed to grow food. And all of its survivors had indeed been off world at the time, diplomats and simple folk on vacation, but she knew now that even the tiniest bit of blood was enough to awaken a soldier; the five awake in this time were proof of that.
       She had watched their spirits through time, other lives she was reluctant to reveal to them, none of them recalling the power of the sailor soldiers until their present lifetimes. But she had been startled to realize that they were being born to mothers who carried the blood of their planets, people stuck in the same situation as the Saturnians, abandoned on Earth after Serenity locked Metallia away. Earth had not begun anew in a literal sense; the planet had not been turned back in time; but everyone had, for the most, forgotten it all, and thus their memories had been given a fresh start. Martian soldiers, Venusian courtesans, Mercurian scientists, Jovian diplomats, Lunar expatriates…all of them had intermarried, passed on their blood. And despite tragedy, Saturn should have done the same.
       But from everything she had learned, Sailor Saturn simply didn't exist.
       "…so it must be them." Luna's voice. The tall red-head blinked, looking back at the cats, the two eldest carrying the conversation without her, as they were used to doing. After all, they had doing this on their own for a while before she had come into the picture. "But why would the soldiers of Neptune and Uranus appear in such a manner, so callous?"
       "That's if it is Neptune and Uranus," Alex intervened, shaking her head, "which is also impossible, did I mention that? Their kingdoms were destroyed by war, the people by plague and sickness that they carried with them off world. Everyone of their blood died. If you were Uranian or Neptunian, you either died in the cataclysm or of disease."
       Artemis flailed his paw frantically, signaling his distress and annoyance at the topic. "Well, who else could it be then?"
       The tall red-head rolled her shoulders, sighing. It could be so many others, truthfully, but she doubted it. The last visitor had seen the ruins of their system-spanning kingdom, and had most likely left to spread the news that Sol was now forgettable and useless. No one had any reason to come to Earth, a planet Serenity had judged so weak that it didn't even have the power of a soldier to protect it, which would be the reason for any visitation. "I don't know, Artemis. Maybe you're right. Maybe, somehow, Uranus and Neptune came forward. But if that's the case," and here, she stood up, popping her neck with a sharp crack, "then everyone is going to be in for a surprise. They didn't guard the outer system on their own as weak kneed, moral stricken little girls."

       What was it about the last hour of school that made every minute stretch into infinity? If he could figure it out and bottle a cure, he would have the mint. And he could hire a bevy of sexy foreign blondes to play Mud Sumo.
       Mamoru grimaced, cupping his forehead and palming it like a rubber ball, trying to will the clock to move faster. It took considerable effort not to reach out again and mentally push the minute hand as he had barely a month ago; one freak clock explosion was explainable, not two. They were still picking up random cogs off the floor. He had been relieved beyond reckoning when the teacher pronounced it a mechanical defect and not a devious act of telekinetic chicanery on the part of one of the students.
       And it wasn't as if he had enjoyed this freak power of his, a power only recently clarified by the tall red-head, who now had the knowledge Moriya had not to explain it to him. That he could move matter with his mind, project his thoughts - and, with apparent practice, construct a psionic image of himself as functional as his body. It had been the unconscious extension of his power that had first alerted him to Sailor Moon's awakening, and subsequent transformations on cue into Tuxedo Kamen, Alex had told him. His spirit remembered what his body had not; that his princess had been in danger. And it had acted accordingly.
       Moving his hand mechanically to take down the notes on the chalkboard, he remembered that first urgency, the intensity that took hold of his body, propelling him outwards to search…to find… He had never even had a chance to deny any of it. His spirit had done all of the work, and dragged him along, Chiba Mamoru, the amnesiac, on the road to an entirely new life. He had died; he had felt his will ensorcelled and chained to another's wishes twice; and he had fallen in love suddenly, hard. In the course of several months, he could hardly recognize himself in the mirror.
       From Beryl to the Black Moon, he had not taken a breath in between - none of them had - and even with this strange new enemy, he finally felt himself slowing down, taking it in stride. And that scared him; possible world cataclysm and his inevitable death with it shouldn't have been sloughed off so damn easily.
       But hadn't he accepted Usagi's unconditional love just as easily?
       Eyes of the storming ocean raised to see the clock - five minutes had passed - and lowered again, pen poised against the paper, ink bleeding like an oil spill into the weave. His notes would be ruined, and he didn't give a shit. That was how he felt; like a ruined, once-blank piece of paper, waiting for the written words to make him whole again, and all he got was a muddied inkblot that could've meant anything.
       And it wasn't as if having such a wonderful, beautiful girl in love with him was so terrible. Not with those crystal blue eyes always staring at him with utter devotion, supple body curving into him without a hint of devilment - such an innocent she was - and trust to spare. She had never once questioned their destiny, he knew that for a fact; she was the type of girl to dream of such romance, of the handsome prince sweeping her off her feet. Even in the future she had told Alex almost word for word that it was what she had always wanted.
       It reminded him, not entirely irrationally, of that silly American animated movie Moriya had dragged him to watch years ago, the one that he couldn't pronounce without sounding like an idiot; with the smelly, crude ogre stuck rescuing the princess from the dragon. And the princess, instead of being entirely grateful after the deed was done, was instead upset when she realized he wasn't a prince; because that wasn't how it was done. Princes rescued princesses, married them, and lived happily ever after, and reality never got in the way.
       But what happened when the prince had gotten his soul raped, his body disassembled and slapped back together, and hadn't been given nearly as much of a choice in the matter as the princess who had single-handedly saved the world and come out of it smelling like roses? He tried hard not to remember all of it. But he knew that the Chiba Mamoru who had walked the earth all these years before the dreams, before Tuxedo Kamen, before Sailor Moon and her awaiting arms, wouldn't have just gone for the ride. He would've questioned, researched, fought and kicked, but everything had conspired to mind fuck his resolve, override his security. Gratitude for being alive, for not being some piss-eyed queen's boy bitch.
       That boy - Ten'ou Haruka - his cool smile, his poise. That was what had been the proverbial cold water in the face. Seeing her laugh to his words, smiling innocently, each dulcet tone a knife twisting in his heart. The painful realization that perhaps destiny wasn't the concrete reality, and then, twisting further, that maybe he hadn't even wanted such a foregone future to begin with. Seeing the blue of the Caribbean in Kaiou-san's eyes had unnerved him, strangely enough, and he now acknowledged the tiny demon that had nudged him, goading him on to smile at her carelessly, to act shameless as his princess had done. Wanting to pay her back - for what? Innocence?
       But that was silly. If Chiba Mamoru was anything, he was a gentleman down to his bones. He didn't indulge in such ridiculous tomfoolery. Even if he had no choice in the matter of his mate.
        The bell chimed, startling him despite its musical notes. He blinked, realizing everyone was getting up, collecting their books, and he began, slowly, to do the same. Removing his reading glasses and sliding them into his pocket, the world blurring only slightly at the edges, he left after a respectful nod to his teacher. Thank the kami it wasn't his day to stay after and clean the room, even if the repetition would have soothed him eventually.
       He knew Usagi expected him at the Crown today, so they could adjourn to the Parlor and meet with everyone for another session of theories and investigation. They liked meeting at Alex's place, but today, they wanted to go out and bask in the sun and, he suspected, watch the handsome boys walk past below. Ah, well. They were teenagers (and he was so old himself, thinking that!), and they deserved some fun. The kami knew how long they would live to enjoy such pleasures.
       Standing at the bus stop, he withdrew his usual book, this one of the critical deconstruction of the Neo-Romantic period in art and literature, from the political and economic perspective of, of all things, the Industrial Revolution in France, England, and Germany. It was extra-credit in his English class, and he truly had to wonder who read this stuff. Him, apparently, he realized with an internal sigh, and flipped to the middle. It was such a daunting subject that he had to slowly digest it in bits, his English competent but weak enough that he had to keep an expensive dictionary on hand. The credit had better be worth it.
       Getting on, he paid automatically as his eyes scanned the page, his feet carrying him slowly and unsteadily towards the back, where the empty seats always stayed empty. He was willing to sacrifice the pain of amplified bumping and bouncing for privacy, and he was practiced in swinging his body around, sliding onto the vinyl, and continuing to read without once looking up to see if anyone shared the seat with him.
       This time, it started out like clockwork - swing, slide - but this time he met a resistant body.
       He blinked.
       "Ara ara, and this is only our second meeting, Chiba-san. Will you now whisper into my ear your undying love and beg me to run away with you?" a sultry female purred into his ear, and he turned his head slowly to see Kaiou Michiru pressed up against his side. Sans Ten'ou Haruka, he realized next. Alone.
       "G-gomen nasai," he managed to not stammer, shifting as calmly as his heart rate would allow to put some space between them, though his arm felt strangely warm and tingly where she had touched him. A signal of something far less innocent than accidental collision.
        She laughed, and though it seemed to be calculated, he could hear a true bit of hysteria beneath it, the real Michiru finding this funny. It was strange to witness; would the real Kaiou Michiru stand up? he thought carelessly, holding back a frown through true effort. But she looked at him again with those Caribbean eyes, and he found himself straightening in her presence, making an effort to remain the gentleman. "I apologize profusely for carelessly sitting down as I have. I'll find myself a new seat."
       "Daijoubu," she demurred, gesturing with her hand for him to remain seated; her other was closed tight around the handles of her attaché and violin cases. "After all, we have the bus all to ourselves; would it matter that we separated ourselves?"
       He blinked, and looked forward to see, strangely, that they were indeed alone, a sight he had never witnessed. The city was far too large, too crowded, for a good majority of its citizens to maintain their own vehicles; public transport was essential, and always full. And this was a major route! "This is…unusual," he finally settled for, palming his book nervously.
       "Perhaps the people have decided to celebrate matsuri. After all, for such a primal festival, one needs no excuse." She reached up to untie the bow in her hair, shaking her head slightly as it tumbled free, a glorious mane of aqua that fell past her waist. Despite himself, Mamoru watched every strand fall, momentarily enraptured by the sight. Slightly curly and wavy like the ocean, it was a thick mass that invited roaming fingers, a far cry from the straight, silken streamers of Usagi's that seemed almost sacrilegious to touch.
       For the love of the kami and all their shades, what was wrong with him? He flushed again, bowing his head almost angrily as he realized how he was acting. And with a girl who had to be at least two years his junior! She had no clue what she was doing, most obviously; and he, the gentleman, had no right inviting her interest in such a manner. He shouldn't even be looking at her, not when he had his princess awaiting his arrival. A princess he had just spent a half-hour disassembling like a patient on the table, wondering if their love was even true.
       "I beg your pardon once more." He spoke stiffly, a cold he thought he had lost creeping into his voice. By memory he opened his book again, looking down at the words; they morphed into black, unreadable squiggles, mocking him, but he stared steadfastly. He could do this for ten more minutes, as the ride was a short one, and by long habit he could time each stop.
       Michiru stared at his profile curiously, marveling at his poise; despite his male nature, he was a true gentleman. A rare bird in Tokyo, she mused, thinking of how she had to find that quality in a person like Haruka, finally; and here was the genuine article. And within those deep ocean eyes was an echo of someone else, a memory of what she had long ago learned to interpret as a past life. Trust her to find not only a true gentleman in Tokyo, but a prince; possibly other lives as well, but they were dim recollections in comparison. As if he had rediscovered that existence most recently…
       Calmly she withdrew her hand mirror from her case, holding it up to check her appearance. Tilted just right she could catch Mamoru's face, reflect what she wanted to know; and what she saw was startling, but not surprising.
       Two men, caught in profile, overlapping the true reflection of Mamoru himself. A prince and a Tokyo student, they shared the one body equally, neither more dominant than the other. She had seen such a sight only twice before, when she and Haruka had examined her mirror for the first time. Her heart fluttered as she stared into the glass, intrigued. Was it her soldier's soul responding to the royal blood in his veins, as it had to the vision of their queen?
       Or was it more?
       She loved Haruka truly, as she had no one before. But they both knew that it was in part their bond as sailor soldiers, their souls calling to each other to embrace as they had never been allowed in their former lives. Knowing that their mission was important above all, they had come together, led by that bond, and their attraction had bloomed. In each other they had strength, solace, and power. No one else in the city had known their secrets, and they had pledged to keep it that way.
       Now, she saw that potential to expand. Those girls at the Crown were also sailor soldiers, if childish and horribly naïve, and here was the male in their midst. Such a man she could woo as never before; and despite herself, she felt the warmth flush her cheeks as she visualized those wicked ideas. The odango-haired blonde could be a princess, and this man her prince, but fate was not concrete. After all, she and Haruka had never known such passion together as Uranus and Neptune, ages ago; now, they were practiced with one another's bodies, knowing each curve and fold. No secrets. Would it be so hard to shamelessly steal this prince from his princess?
       And there would be the slightest satisfaction in winning him, as she had seen her sandy-haired lover's covert looks whenever that girl had laughed, or tossed her hair so innocently. She knew, despite all of their passion and love, that they were still as free as the birds in the sky. Nothing but loyalty and the mission kept them together, and they had often allowed each other's eyes to stray, so very libertine. A little wicked game. How could she expect Haruka to act otherwise, or she to be so very different?
       She realized suddenly that the Crown was their next stop, and she could see from the subtle tense of his body in preparation to stand that he was about to leave. Silently chastising herself for being carried away, she said, "Chiba-san? Do you enjoy classical music?" If she read the title of his book correctly, she could guess he did.
       Which was an excellent assumption, even if the book itself was homework. He adjusted his reading glasses, wincing as the nose guards rubbed his skin raw, a result of wearing them for several hours straight. "If the mood strikes me. Much of it I've heard is far too angry and violent for my taste."
       "Ah, then perhaps you would do me the honor of coming to my concert? It's for charity, to aid the families of several unfortunate students from my school. And as benefiting a performer, I have several free tickets for visitors of my choice." As if to prove herself, she withdrew the thin sheaf of tickets from her breast pocket, pumpkin orange in colour and proclaiming the two top performers in bold brush kanji.
       He could see her name perfectly, as she had intended, and his confusion grew as he realized, again, that he was probably supposed to recognize her. "And what will you be playing, Kaiou-san?"
       Were all gentlemen so adept at covering up their ignorance? She smiled, laughing as though she recognized the joke. "Several songs from my latest CD, I suppose," she finally relented, allowing her eyes to slide away coyly. "And a few I've recently written, that have yet to be recorded. Of course, fresh material is what makes every show unique; I have much to live up to, being a solo performer."
       CD? She had a CD out? Perhaps, more than one? His bewilderment was obvious now as his brain strove to catch up, unable to compute. It was jolted momentarily by the bus as it slowed down, and he caught sight of the Crown sign, prompting his legs to move ahead of his derailed brain and lift him up.
       She caught his hand before he could walk, pressing the tickets into his hand with a slide of her palm. "Please, Chiba-san. Surely a hard-working student like you deserves a night of entertainment. And there are plenty of tickets, perhaps for your friends?"
       "And what does Ten'ou-san think of you giving out such favours freely?" he asked lowly, puzzling for the hundredth time as to the tall sandy-blonde's location.
       "Haruka is more than happy to give me my freedom," she answered coolly, withdrawing her hand. "And this is not a favour in the manner you think; merely a gift. I told him I would be giving you these tickets, after all, before he left for the race today." No secrets. Merely manipulation, perhaps a bit of greed.
       The bus driver, though otherwise mechanical and indifferent, was now glaring at them in the mirror, waiting for him to leave. "Arigatou," the dark-haired prince finally responded, giving her a quick bow before escaping down the middle of the seats and into the sunlight. Too late, he realized he had left his book on the seat, and he turned to find himself breathing in exhaust, a porcelain face smiling at him through the window. And in her hand? His damned book. Now he would have no choice but to go.
       Cursing - and his repertoire had increased mightily in Alex's presence - he loosened his collar in respect to the temperature, undoing his tie. Tie and tickets went into a pocket as he walked up the flight of stairs to the Parlor, gesturing quickly to Furuhata through the window. An associate, perhaps a friend, that he was beginning to neglect; for the first time he wondered if Usagi, or any of the girls, had the same problem with their extended relationships.
       (If he had ever asked, he would have found out that Minako was really the only one, besides Usagi, who had even had people she could consider friends. Rei had her worshippers at school, Ami had her books, and Makoto had no one. Usagi had been growing slowly distant from Naru, unable to share her experiences and battles; Minako had the same problem with Hikaru. Though the long-haired blonde did have Wakagi and Natsuna, who knew her triple identities.)
       Shrugging it off, he entered the slight coolness of the Parlor, finding the table easily; all he had to do was look for a pair of ridiculous blonde odango accenting the plants. As he came closer, he heard Makoto exclaim, "I knew I recognized him! A famous racer, Ten'ou Haruka; a sure winner in any race."
       "And rumour places him as the boyfriend of Kaiou Michiru, the famous violin virtuoso; look, look, they even have a picture of her!"
       "I recognize her, as well. The violinist in possession of a million-yen instrument, almost unheard of for her age. She named it the Marine Cathedral."

       "…the Marine Cathedral," Ami explained, her head tilting up as she caught sight of Mamoru. He looked as though he had been struck by a revelation, though the expression quickly faded as he stepped up to the table at last, his hand in one of his coat pockets. "Konnichi wa, Mamoru-san."
       This was actually about as verbal as Ami had been for the last day, preferring stoic silence and the pages of her books instead of confrontation. She nurtured pain in her spirit from watching the boy die, despite her frantic attempts at CPR, and, though she was scared to admit it, something of anger. And as usual, whenever she felt such strong emotions, she retreated into her private world, allowing herself time to heal.
       Which is why everyone looked happier after she had spoken, and happier still was Usagi, who sat up to kiss his cheek. He smiled, though his princess, hidden by the curve of his cheek, missed the desperate look in his eyes. In the booth, no one was intimate enough with him to understand it, and it was largely unnoticed as he pulled over a chair for himself, sitting at the head of the table next to Alex.
       But she noticed it, knowing him perhaps even better than Usagi, and she said nothing of it. Instead, she rescued the glossy magazine from Minako's oily fingers, ignoring its contents as she snapped it shut. "If I recall correctly, we met here to discuss our situation, not to drool over a pulp rag. Minako, don't you have better ways to spend your money?"
       "But sensei, didn't you even look at him? He's a super hunk! And he's rich!"
       "I wouldn't even waste the time; I don't care. He's underage, anyway." As she was straddling her chair, she stuck the rolled-up magazine in her back pocket, ignoring the long-haired blonde's exaggerated pouting.
       "Alex-san's right," Artemis said severely, ignoring the stab of tongue in his direction. "Two rich idols belong to a careless conversation, not one of business. Focus, minna! Those two will die as easily as the world if we fail."
       Alex snorted, resting her chin on her folded arms. "The melodrama wasn't needed, cat."
       Rei regarded Minako between a fringe of eyelashes, her disbelief evident. "But why Minako? For the love of the kami, the girl wouldn't fit in at Infinity, she would be found out in an instant! Why not myself, perhaps, who knows how such an institution works? Let me use the compact and go undercover with you, Alex-san."
       Her sharpness was a bit surprising, as she had made strides to becoming more casual, friendlier with them, but not entirely given everyone's nerves. She compensated for feeling useless with her verbal jabs, her icy poise; and it was understandable, though not perhaps forgiven. Minako seemed hurt; then, slowly, the storm of her own temper began to gather in rebuttal.
       It was Makoto who intervened sharply, saying, "How can you assume such a thing, Rei? Minako-chan was Sailor V on her own well before any of us awoke as sailor soldiers! Don't cut her down so painfully. None of us have as much experience, or ability to transform in such a manner for subterfuge."
       "Which is exactly why we chose Minako," Luna commented, though she sounded a tad uncertain. "And she knows how to use her compact precisely, a tool none of you were ever given."
       "Besides, I'll be with sensei!" The long-haired blonde flashed the victory sign, seemingly over her anger.
       "Are any of us to do anything while you investigate?" Mamoru wasn't just a pretty face; behind those blue eyes worked a competent brain. He caught on quickly as to what they referenced, and it was hardly a surprise that they planned to infiltrate the school.
       Both adult felines gave the equivalent of shrugs up in the greenery, and Alex gestured with her hand to appropriate it. "Besides waiting with your communicators on in case we need help, not really. If it goes well, we'll be in, given a tour, and leave without disturbing a soul. Minako can easily slip away to search, being the prospective student."
       She fell pointedly quiet as Unazuki came walking up, loaded down with the assortment of drinks and treats the girls had ordered. Chattering like a bird, she and Minako relayed prospective crushes to one another, only to realize they had seen the same boy. Rei intervened with a scathing dismissal of all men - Minako dismissed her in turn as a male-hating snob - as Makoto gushed similarly over Conrad Sommers. Alex finally relieved Unazuki of her tray, handing out their orders casually as the younger red-head continued to exchange commentary with the girls.
       Mamoru accepted a cup of coffee that he never ordered, sipping automatically as he listened to the chatter. Luna and Artemis, similar looks of dread on their faces, turned resolutely away, most likely discussing their own plans between the bushes; he caught Alex's eye, noticing her to be as uninterested as he. "It seems strange," she murmured to him, sotto voce, "that just a few months ago I would have at least added something of my own to the conversation. Now, it doesn't matter to me at all about boys and clothes and silly things."
       "Hai." And he could well imagine it; as Moriya, as a fourteen-year-old teenage girl, such trivial dreams had been more important to her. She had been unconcerned about crushes and the latest fashions, but willing and able to put in her two cents, and had done so often in his presence, even if a scathing commentary. Now, Moriya was an adult Alex, as different from his friend as the Sun and Earth, and yet still in the same galaxy. "Perhaps now we can brood together; I was always a bit lonely doing it myself."
       She laughed into her own drink, a cherry soda that tasted like the fruit on a banana split, and tickled the nose. "It wouldn't be the first time I had company."
       "Speaking of company, now that I think of it; where's Chibi-Usa?" The small pink-haired child was nowhere at the table, and though he still cringed at the idea of his daughter in the heart of battle, she was a fledgling sailor soldier all the same.
       "It was her turn to clean the classroom, from what tsukimidango told me."
       Realizing he had left his glasses on, Mamoru slid them off to rub the bridge of his nose, shoving them callously into his coat pocket. The simplest things eluded his notice these days, like his glasses, despite his vision whenever he wore them for reading. Realizing they would scratch the lenses, he withdrew the tickets, fanning them with a finger. Just enough to take them all, except one; after all, Alex had not been present when Michiru and Haruka had arrived at the game center. And from what he had seen of the aqua-haired beauty, impetuousness was not her forte; she had planned this out.
       His princess, seeing his hands, queried, "Mamo-chan? What are those for?" No doubt she had visions of some romantic date for the two of them, sans child and well-meaning but ultimately troublesome friends.
       Unazuki exclaimed, "Uso! How did you get so many tickets, Mamoru-san!? I hear it's been sold out since the day of announcement!"
       "Sold out for what, Unazuki-chan?" Makoto edged in.
       "For Hanyu Mimi and Kaiou Michiru! A joint concert benefiting several students from Mugen Gakuen who were injured recently; it's always difficult to see them separately, but together, it's amazing!"
       So much for subtle.
       All of them stared at the dark-haired prince, who felt, at the center of attention, like hiding behind his hands; but he stuck it out, lifting the tickets for their benefit. "I have friends in high places. They were given as a gift, all seven of them." He could see the concentration as Usagi and Minako counted everyone, though Ami beat them to it, and pointed out, "But there's eight of us."
       "Hey, if you want to see them in concert, don't let me stop you." Alex stirred her soda absently, taking a sip. "You need a day to relax. Besides, if it's so hard to get the damn tickets, why pass up the opportunity?"
       "And perhaps Haruka-san will be there!" Minako squealed.
       "That too." More stirring.
       "Minako, are boys all you think about?" Rei asked in irritation, and the arguments began all over again.

       That night, the city was alive.
       Wandering down the sidewalk, the tall red-head mused her options for entertainment as drunken businessmen and girls having a bit too good of a time clamored rather loudly both in and out of her head. She could mute them, but the thousand thoughts of a city's populace were always too loud to completely ignore, one of the few drawbacks of telepathy she found annoying. She could never shut it down entirely, and had to use it to keep her empathy at a low-level constant, to keep the crowd's raging emotions from swallowing her raw.
       The only problem was where to go tonight. She wasn't a drinker, so she hardly ever wandered into the bars, unless she had to go in to rescue some poor girl from a drunken lecher. She'd gone to Blue earlier in the week, Luners the same night, Maniac Love was closed because of a water leak, and Milk had bands tonight she wasn't particularly impressed with. Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, she intercepted a man's hand before it came even close to her breast, giving him a hard look that sent him running. Though she supposed that she invited it; the corset she wore beneath her knee-length suit coat mounded her to Mt. Fuji proportions.
       She looked up at the doorway she had stopped in front of, eyebrows lifting as she recognized the name: the Cavern Club. Their live acts were popular and nostalgic, though they played music from before her time. But the show itself promised to be interesting, if not possibly hilarious, so she shrugged and wandered into the smoke, wincing at the smell. She smoked herself only when she absorbed the trait from the few articles of her father's shirts that she wore, or not at all, and she truly disliked the smell. Though, in comparison to her father's smelly Gaulois cigarettes, generic were sweet.
       Wafting a hand lazily, her eyes sharpened in the darkness to take stock of the room immediately, an old habit that had saved her ass more than once in her life. Most of the people were middle-aged or younger, a perfect crowd for the acts in the Cavern, and relatively harmless. A few looked troublesome, but after a light mental scan, she found them to be unaware of their potential, and she let them be as she walked towards the bar for a soda. An expensive soda, she soon found out, and she walked away with it for free once she realized he had jacked the price because she was a foreigner.
       As she took a seat at an empty table, a finger tapped her shoulder, and a whiskey voice asked, "Are these seats taken?" in what was, for the country, excellent English.
        "Knock yourself out." She crunched an ice cube as the owner of the voice came around, touching the shoulder of his date in soft possessiveness. Both of them looked to be to her trained eye perhaps early high school students, though to anyone else, they could have passed for legal.
       "Thank you," the girl said, bowing her head slightly, without the slightest arrogance Alex was used to seeing, though she slipped back into Japanese for "Haruka, would you please get me a drink? A water."
       Haruka nodded, and, seeing their table mate with a soda, didn't bother to ask. He disappeared back into the crowd as Michiru smiled, her Caribbean eyes moving from the tall sandy-blonde's back slowly towards Alex. And again, in English: "I'm pleased to meet you; my name is Kaiou Michiru. And you are…?"
       Ah, perhaps there was a bit of arrogance after all; assuming she couldn't speak their language was common no matter where she went. "Alex LeBeau," she answered smoothly as she always did, with her surname appropriately last. Though in Japanese, she added, "You must be either quite the student or quite the traveler to speak English so well. Kaiou-san."
       Without missing a beat, Michiru laughed, though the tall red-head could sense she was surprised. Not that it was entirely shocking; most foreigners never wandered into clubs such as this unless a native was showing them the sights; they stayed in the safety of Roppongi as they were meant to. Only someone that was either foreign-born but currently living in the city, or a visitor well learned in Japanese would enter such a place. "Ah, LeBeau-san, you flatter me. Your Japanese is excellent in comparison."
       Now that was the polite, deferential attitude she'd also had to deal with after proving she could speak on their level; she didn't mind politeness, but the Japanese had a way of being almost smothering. "Please, Kaiou-san. Your English is on level with my Japanese, and let's agree on that, neh?" She stirred her soda, her eyes hardly moving as Haruka appeared over the aqua-haired beauty's right shoulder carrying their drinks.
       From the smell, it was the requested water, and a clear soda. It elevated them both a notch in her eyes; at least they didn't try to finagle harder liquid from the bar. Haruka handed over the water, and took a seat himself with his soda. After a moment, however, he was doing his level best not to cough, wafting a hand as some particularly thick smoke came their way.
       The tall red-head agreed with him, and concentrated a moment, doing something in public she really shouldn't; erecting a shield to block the smoke. Invisible, but still foolhardy, as some drunk who stumbled too close found out, rebounding back. Casual, Alex asked of them both, "So, who's the fan?"
       Michiru slanted a coy look at her partner, who seemed far too interested in his soda all of a sudden. "Well, I must confess that it was my fault that Haruka loves them now too. You see, one of my backup piano players loves the band, and would play some of their music before a concert; and so I became interested, and bought their last album."
       "Really? I always liked their later music, though their earlier stuff was catchy. That, and their hairstyles were considerably improved as they grew up," Alex agreed.
       A musician, though; on second glance, she considered the aqua-haired beauty as she looked towards the stage, and the subtle longing she wore. Down to the hands; either a pianist or a string instrument with such fingers, though with her poise and bearing, it was most likely not something so rugged as a guitar or bass. Perhaps a violin or cello, and she bet it was the former than latter. A classical artist, as opposed to the tall red-head's wishful rock.
       The lights dimmed, centering on the stage with a flourish of long practice, revealing most certainly the club manager at one of the microphones. "Hallo, minna-san! Once again, you come to relieve your burdens with our music, allowing the soothing balm to calm your souls. And the Cavern Club enjoys being the source of your love!"
       He waved off the scattering of applause, though it was obvious he loved it. "I am Kazunori Iizuba, the manager of this rock `n roll club! And to introduce them now, I'm pleased to take the burden; The Silver Beats have entered the building!"
       One of the more oblique, interesting introductions Alex had ever heard. She snorted into her drink as four Japanese men in silver suits and mop top haircuts reminiscent of England, 1962; and she did have to admit that the lead signer did resemble John Lennon. "Hallo, hallo!" he sang into the microphone vacated by the manager, waving his arm to invite more cheering.
       "He can't be more than a year older than me," Alex tittered faintly, gaining a laugh from, surprisingly, Haruka.
       The group took up their places in what was an eerie parallel to the one show Alex had seen on TV of their performance on Ed Sullivan, and launched into "Love Me Do." Though it came out more "Rub Me Do," it was still an excellent attempt, and they could really play.
       Not that the crowd didn't do its level best to drown them out by screaming.
       Michiru was doing the most adorable sway of her body to the music, her lips faintly but obviously moving to follow the words. Haruka was watching her more than the band, but he was unconsciously doing the same sway; two teenagers who had never even lived to see the true Beatles live. And they were two of the calmest in the room, considering a blonde head Alex could see leaping up and down near the stage. Up, down, up, down; no doubt she was screaming herself hoarse. "The band must be more popular than I expected," she managed to convey towards Haruka, motioning with her glass towards the blonde.
       The tall sandy-blonde followed her gaze, and frowned immediately. "Hanyu-san, what is she doing here?" he muttered beneath his breath, recognizing her shoulder cut and unusual hairpiece. The kami knew he had never considered their enemies a fan of any music, or even bold enough to go out in public.
       "You know her?"
       "She's a…classmate. A student teacher at our school."
       Alex nodded, and Haruka was relieved that she let it drop; she wasn't rude enough to start badgering them about their private lives. The music, nonetheless, drowned them out, coupled with the screaming, and they both turned towards the stage to watch.
       Though they were hardly the only ones surprised when Hanyu-san leapt onto that stage, almost felling the Lennon-look-alike as she swung her arms around him. "Mabuchi-san, you're so wonderful!" she screamed, hugging him tightly as he did a frantic dance to release himself. He spun, knocking the microphone down, her flailing legs taking out the other two running to his aid. "When the time comes, I'll preserve you lovingly to witness our new world!"
       The manager, screaming bloody murder, came running from behind the curtain.
       Hanyu-san gestured impetuously, and a familiar staff appeared in her hand. But for such a small stick, it gave off an intense power, and the crowd's screams turned fearful as the manager dissolved into a charred corpse. He - it - toppled off the stage, exploding into ash and bits of bone and detritus as several customers tried to catch it.
       All three of them stood automatically, knowing they had to intervene.
       But Haruka and Michiru halted, realizing that they were bound by their identities, unable to slip away immediately with such a crowd. Never before had they gone into such a place to fight the enemy; always in alleys, empty streets, vacant houses. They traded looks, unsure of how to escape and transform, or if they should even intervene; after all, no daimon was involved. Yet.
       Alex shoved forward as they paused, leaping onto an empty table as the crowd thickened in the stampede for safety. Using them like lily pads, she crossed the room quickly, landing in the now-cleared space in front of the stage. But Hanyu-san saw her coming, and spun around to wield her staff, her grip on Mabuchi tightening across his neck. "No time to be hero, gaijin," she crooned into one of the standing microphones, her weapon weaving lazily to quickly shoot off an attack if need be.
       Picking up an empty glass, the tall red-head shrugged.
       Haruka and Michiru, taking advantage of the last of the crowd, darted towards the bathroom.
       Hanyu-san screamed bloody murder as her staff went flying, her hand bloodied and cut. She flung Mabuchi away to grip her wrist, and he went airborne off the side of the stage, landing on one of the tables. It collapsed, and the sound of his skull hitting the ground was far too loud in the growing silence. "Shit," Alex remarked.
       "You…you…! I'll kill you for this insult!" Hanyu-san raved, and the tall red-head turned back towards the blonde to find her changing, transforming into the gaudiest yellow and black dress she'd ever seen. Like a frantic bumble-bee in tights. "I am Mimete, of the Witches 5!"
       "Isn't that Witches 4 now?"
       "Shut up! Even still, as a Death Buster, I'd harvest your soul for the Master, but that death is far too quick!" Mimete held up her hand, calling her staff back; her transformation had rendered her hand healed, and she gripped it with five healthy fingers. But her free hand paused as she began to make the sigils as she realized what Alex had said. "How do you know that Eudial is destroyed…?"
       Ashtrays flew through the air, and Mimete shrieked, calling up a shield. Their speed turned them into glass dust inches from her face, and she cried, "No, no, no! You're not supposed to fight back in such a manner! Stop it!"
       She heard the sound of someone landing on the stage, and she fled sightlessly back into the wings, running down the steps and around into the club itself, screaming as Alex leapt back down to follow her. Her fear would have grown considerably, had she known what the tall red-head could do to her; though it would have abated knowing that she also wasn't that cruel. Running around a table, she stumbled over the trampled body of a young man, his face bloody where he'd been kicked.
       Tumbling onto her knees, she cracked her chin on his shoulder. She bit back a wail - by the kami, she was a Witch! - and stared as she recognized the man from the hallways of Infinity, a graduate student of not very excellent grades. "What luck!" she cooed, touching her staff to his head.
       As a dabbler in the art of random magic, she had figured out that she could call the daimon out of the body of a host prematurely, though she had not the chance to attempt it more than once. And unfortunately, the host and the daimon would eventually die, no matter if the soul was returned to the host; but what did she care? She wrenched up with her staff, shrieking as someone grabbed that wrist and flung her back off the body; and the daimon followed.
       Both of them stared as the host jerked, the creature rising up and free above their heads.
       Mimete yelled, "Kill her! Kill her, kill her, killkillkill!"
       "You are way too bloodthirsty for your line of work," Alex snarled, tightening her grip. The blonde shrieked as she was flung forward, thrown right into the daimon's wriggling legs. It kicked her aside as it tumbled after the tall red-head, who dove back onto the stage, grabbing a microphone stand. She swung it like a bat as it came close, the tip glowing a bright, pulsing pink, and braced herself as they impacted.
       They each went in opposite directions as the metal exploded.
       Thankfully, the back of the stage was hung with curtains and soft drapes for effect; Alex grunted as she collided, hitting the wall without much pain. Sliding down, she held her head, waiting for it to stop ringing.
       Mimete and the daimon hit a metal support post, though the blonde's impact was cushioned by the body of her creature. As they slid down, a glistening brackish blood was left behind, a startling contrast to the blood of its host. "I am really getting too old for this shit," Alex grumbled from the depths of the stage as she staggered into view. "You people just suck."
       "You attacked me first!" Mimete countered.
       "You tried molesting the damn singer!"
       "I offered him my love!"
       "And you wonder why he was scared shitless."
       The blonde opened her mouth; unsurprisingly, the sound of the wind that followed was earthshaking in its intensity. A few support pillars cracked, tables were blown over, and the mirror behind the bar shattered into tiny shards.
       "Deep Submerge!"
       Mimete crab walked backward, screaming as her creature was vanquished above her head, and she was splashed with…not its blood…but salt water? She turned away from the sight and looked up, only to have the tip of a glowing, deadly blade shoved into her nose. "Don't bother to ask for mercy," the wielder of the blade commented.
       "It won't be given, for such crimes," the other explained.
       On stage, Alex rather frantically stabbed at her communicator, a watch fob that hung on her belt instead of around her wrist. She'd hit it before even moving to intercept Mimete, but no one was answering, which meant they were either on their way or sleeping through it. Cursing, she looked up to see the blonde witch raise her staff, her magic a split second faster than the swipe of the blade. Both newcomers went flying, hitting the wall so hard they sank several inches into the wood.
       Picking up a microphone stand again, she lifted it over her knee, hitting it several times to bend it, and then, with a touch, melting it to snap in half. It wasn't a clean break, being metal; a sharp edge protruded nearly two inches, jagged and vicious. Mimete apparently had forgotten her, or considered her less of a problem than the other two at the moment, and she smiled grimly.

       Neptune moaned, touching her forehead. She had hit the wall at an angle, and she could feel blood where her tiara had cut into her skin. It trickled wetly down into her eye, and she wiped at it crudely to see Mimete advancing on them, giggling. The very same giggle of Hanyu Mimi, but considerably more vicious; and her smile was a cruel rictus grin. "Now, where Eudial failed, Mimete will be victorious! For the Master, I'll take your soldier's souls…"
       She came up close, and used the head of her staff to lift Neptune's chin, angling it so she could look only into Mimete's eyes. "…and if you reveal to me the person who carries the shining crystal power, I'll kill you quicker."
       Next to her, Uranus twitched. Having taken the brunt of the blow, she was almost twice as deeply embedded as her partner, and nearly unconscious. It didn't stop her from clenching her fist reflexively, though she was unable to call her power without killing all three of them. Storm grey eyes shifted, seeing movement on the stage, and she jerked at her arm. She needed it free, and it cost her the dislocation of her shoulder as she finally ripped it from the wood, reaching to yank Mimete's hair.
       The blonde snarled, showing her teeth as she turned towards Uranus, shifting her body to raise her staff. All she needed was one alive to question, and surely killing one would be incentive enough to tell the truth.
       A flash of silver caught her attention, and a flash of pain tore her stomach.
       "Uranus!" the tall red-head shouted.
       Mimete staggered back, staring down in shock at the length of microphone stand disappearing into her body. She looked up; Uranus' hand was glowing. Despite the pain, she had called the power. And that was when her world ended with a blast of wind, her body disintegrating even as her staff spun, hitting the ground and tarnishing, breaking like glass.
       The two soldiers sagged, too tired to pull themselves free from the wall. But then, Neptune looked up to see the tall red-head standing in front of them, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Taking the aqua-haired soldier's hands, she pulled forward as the wood splintered, breaking and falling loose to allow her to be yanked free. Despite her bruises, Neptune alone pulled her partner free as Alex removed the wood.
       "Arigatou," Uranus said lowly, leaning heavily on Neptune. "But so suddenly, you knew my name; how is that possible?"
       "We can't allow any knowledge of our mission," Neptune remarked in turn, her calm betrayed by the rigid stance of her body. And she had a reason to be suspicious; the tall red-head was no one either of them knew, or had seen, in the streets or their dreams. No one should have known that they were the soldiers of Uranus and Neptune.
       Alex turned away, glancing towards the door of the club. "Sailor Uranus, Sailor Neptune. The lonely soldiers of the outer planets of the system, defending the queen and her kingdom from afar. I never had a chance to meet you, before."
       Both of them betrayed their shock, and Uranus, despite herself, summoned her weapon, though she could barely lift it. "Who are you?" she hissed, as Alex looked back at them.
       Footsteps, rapid; in the doorway, Sailor Moon appeared, she and her guardians racing into the club. "Alex-san!" she cried, skidding to a stop abruptly. Into her back thudded Mars, Jupiter, and Venus, Mercury stopping in stop to avoid collision. Tuxedo Kamen and the still-unnamed Chibi-Usa came in a bit slower. All of them seemed unable to vocalize at the sight of the two new soldiers, though the tall brunette seemed to be working herself into a rage.
       Uranus stood as straight as she could, despite her need to remain propped up. "This is unfortunate, sailor soldiers; you have no reason to become involved. Our mission, our way."
       "But that's not true!" Moon exclaimed, clenching her fists. "Innocent people are being hurt! This is our planet as well; will you let us work together?"
       "Iie." Neptune met Uranus' eye, and nodded shortly. "Our mission is to defend our world against the enemy that would sneak into our solar system. In this, we failed; and so it is up to us to destroy them now."
       Quicker than she anticipated, Alex caught a flying kick to her ribs, and stumbled back. She fell down onto a knee as Uranus lifted her arm, splaying her hand as she called her power, concentrating.
       There is a fine line between complete obliteration and careful modulation of wind to disrupt the inner ear.
       After all, they didn't want to kill them. They were soldiers.