Hands Fall Together by Kihin Ranno

Part Ten: Family Matters

Usagi knew if she stayed in the house for one more minute, she was going to lose it.

Home hadn’t quite felt like the comfortable safe haven it had once been – not since she and Shingo had been caught up in the attack outside the arcade. Then the situation had declined after her injury at the senator’s conference. Ironically, it was the second attack at the arcade – the one incident no member of the Tsukino family had been present for – seemed to have tipped the scale.

Usagi changed the channel on the television, flipping to some American gangster movie in the middle of a shoot-out. Shingo leapt from his seat, dropping his manga, and started to dive behind the nearest solid object. She immediately put the set on mute.

“It’s okay, Shingo,” Usagi said. She tried to use a soothing tone, but felt so tightly wound that her attempt failed spectacularly. “It’s just the TV.”

His cheeks reddened in his otherwise white face, giving him the look of a miniature geisha. He nodded, reaching down to retrieve the fallen comic. “I knew that. Just surprised me.”

Usagi refrained from commenting.

Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Usagi answered, switching back to the weather report, which seemed innocuous enough.

She didn’t look convinced, but she put on the same smile that had been plastered to her face for days. “Usagi,” she said brightly, “are you planning on going out with Naru today?”

“She’s still at the hot springs with her mom,” Usagi sighed. “She won’t be back for a few days.”

Her mother continued to grin relentlessly. “Well then. What do you think you’ll do instead?”

She shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Do you think you’ll stay in?”

The hope in her mother’s voice was palatable. Usagi shrugged again to keep her mother happy, but she knew there was no chance of that. She felt like she was choking cooped up inside with her family. She couldn’t stand Shingo’s fear and her mother’s smiles. And as for her father.,,

“Shouldn’t Dad be home soon?” Usagi asked. “It’s Saturday; he said he’d only work half a day.”

Her smile nearly wavered. “I got a call from him earlier saying he’d be home for dinner. Turns out there’s more work to be done than he thought.”

Usagi nodded and did her best to hide her disappointment. “Right.”

Then her mother retreated into the kitchen, her sanctuary, to hide from Usagi’s knowing eyes. Usagi was sure there wasn’t such pressing work for her father to do. Apparently he couldn’t stand being home either, but he always had a ready excuse to leave. She’d been curious to see what he would do home for the weekend, but apparently he had solved that with feigned emergencies.

Usagi knew she was being unfair and grouchy, but she couldn’t seem to move past it. She wanted to help her family. She wanted to be cheerful and upbeat alongside her mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wasn’t a good enough actress to do it, and even if she had been, just thinking about pretending for her own family left her feeling ill. Things were too scattered, too chaotic for any of them to be happy. She felt like they were all covered with a sadness like a thick blanket, and she was suffocating inside her own home. She had to get out.

The trouble was, she had nowhere to go. The brace limited her mobility considerably, so she couldn’t justify simply going for a walk. She couldn’t go swimming because of the injury. She couldn’t go shopping because she’d been forbidden after the last trip to spend any money for at least a month. She couldn’t go see Naru because Naru was miles and miles away. She had to leave, but she had no destination in mind.

“Usagi, you sighed again,” her brother pointed out, his voice softer than normal.

She glared and contemplated throwing a pillow at his head. Realizing it might remind him too much of a deadly projectile, she decided against it. “Think of it as a soundtrack to our lives.”

He frowned. “I prefer to think of it as annoying. Since it is.”

She very nearly sighed again in response. “Well, I’m bored. I can’t swim, I can’t spend money, and I can’t see Naru. What’s the point in even leaving the house?”

Shingo shrugged. “You could go to the arcade and see Motoki. He might even give you a free Sunday. You said he gives that guy you always complain about free coffee.”

It was like the first thaw after a long winter. Usagi leapt to her feet (which again made Shingo jump) and hobbled over to her brother, giving him a big hug. “Shingo, you’re a genius! Motoki’s just what I need right now! He always cheers me up.” She picked up her crutches and made her way over to the doorway, calling out where she was headed and when she expected to be back. Then she stepped outside and took a deep breath of the blissfully fresh air.

She could practically taste the sunshine.

It took her a lot longer than usual to walk down to the Crown. Although her father’s yelling had succeeded in getting her some stronger medication, she didn’t like taking more than half at a time or she couldn’t keep her eyes open. And she felt like the crutches had gotten her into somewhat better shape, but she still couldn’t walk on them for very long. But eventually she made it, and she bounced inside (as much as a person on crutches could bounce) and looked around for Motoki.

But all she saw was a man with a very unattractive beard wearing Motoki’s apron.

Frowning, she went over and tapped him on the shoulder, nearly overbalancing and tumbling to the floor. She righted herself awkwardly. “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say hi to Motoki… Is he in the back?”

The man shook his head. “Sorry Miss, he’s actually not here today.”

Usagi couldn’t hide her surprise. “Not here! But he always works on Saturdays.”

“Usually yeah, but he’s… got some things going on.”

Usagi furrowed her brow in concern. “Where is he?”

-----

Mamoru glanced at his watch again, discovering that he had checked it four times in the past fifteen minutes. Sighing, he leaned against the door of his car, patting the car absentmindedly. It took him a moment to realize that he had half-expected it to purr.

“I wonder if there’s such a thing as a Crazy Cat Gentleman?” he muttered.

Just then, the automatic doors to the hospital slid open and Motoki stumbled out into the sunlight. Mamoru simply lifted a hand in greeting and stood to greet him. Motoki didn’t acknowledge him physically, but Mamoru didn’t need the wave returned. He knew Motoki would walk right up to him as if drawn by a magnetic force. He needed support, and even if Mamoru was not the best option, he was currently the only one available.

Mamoru flinched when Motoki finished crossing to him. The circles beneath his eyes were so dark they almost looked like twin bruises. “Guess you didn’t sleep then,” he remarked.

Motoki shook his head. “Couldn’t. Too worried.”

“How is she?”

Motoki hesitated for less than a second, but in that time, Mamoru felt as though he were going to crack. But then Motoki did nod, and he was able to hold himself together. “She’s going to be okay. They’re going to keep her here for awhile… She’s suffering from extreme exhaustion, and it looks like she hasn’t been eating or drinking since…”

“Yeah,” Mamoru murmured, the fingers in his pocket twitching. “Well, that’s great.” He paused, noting that Motoki still looked as though Reika were on her deathbed. “Is there something else?”

Motoki shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s upsetting you, then it’s not stupid.”

Motoki smiled, but it was little more than a glimmer compared to his usual grins. “That was good. God, Mamoru, you’re practically a social animal now.”

“Motoki.”

The blond turned his head, swallowing. “She looked like an old woman when they brought her in. Wrinkled and her hair was grey, nearly white. They said… they said the wrinkles were from dehydration. Her skin had shriveled to the point where it was practically dust. So once she has fluids again, that’ll be fine. But her hair….” He closed his eyes. “Her hair’s always going to be like that.”

Mamoru frowned, not quite understanding the significance of this. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just that she loved her hair,” Motoki murmured. “She took such great care of it. So many products and trips to the hair dresser’s every two weeks…. She really, really loved it. And I loved it too. Now it’s gone.” His voice cracked. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy that she’s alive and okay, but… you didn’t see her after she saw her reflection. I’ve never heard anyone make that noise. It was like someone had died. And I… for once, I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make her feel better, and I wonder if I even can.”

Every bone in his body wanted to run away, but Mamoru all but dug in his heels. He lifted his chin in defiance of his own insecurities and reached forward with one arm. He drew Motoki to him roughly, flinching when the blond’s nose rammed into his shoulder. Mamoru practically expected Motoki to cry, but his friend simply stood there breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. And Mamoru stayed beside him, clenching his fist by Motoki’s left ear.

It was a long time before Motoki drew away. He swiped at his eyes with his thumb. “That was almost a hug.”

Mamoru nodded. “Yeah. Almost.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He paused. “Need a ride home?”

Motoki looked at him as though he’d just spoken German. “Huh. Guess I do.”

“You can’t stay here forever,” Mamoru pointed out.

“That had actually been my plan.”

“At least grab a shower,” Mamoru ordered, popping open the passenger door. “You’re pretty ripe. And I’m guessing you haven’t eaten either.”

Motoki snorted quietly as he climbed in the car. “And you say I’m a mother hen.”

Mamoru shut Motoki’s car door with his foot and then circled around to the driver’s side. “Learned from the best.”

-----

Sunday mornings at the Tsukino household, Ikuko knew, were not always the idyllic affair she had pictured in her girlhood. To begin with, it was rare that she actually saw her eldest daughter. No matter how early Usagi went to bed, it seemed impossible to rouse her before noon, and on the rare occasion that Ikuko succeeded, the blonde was not her usual cheerful self. And more often than not, Kenji had his nose buried in a newspaper and responded to her questions with monosyllabic answers that were nothing like the impassioned monologues he had once regaled her with in college. And as for Shingo, if he wasn’t playing video games at the table, he was rushing off to get to the living room to watch his favorite new television program. She didn’t mind too much because dinner times were always a treat regardless of the day, but that didn’t change the fact that Sunday mornings were far from her favorite time of the week.

This Sunday morning was different but hardly better.

“The pancakes are burning,” Kenji snapped, his voice raspy from sleep.

On another day, Ikuko would have said something about his tone, but she bit her tongue and scraped the pancakes off the wok, slapping them onto one of the three plates she’d set out. After pouring some more batter, she swung around to the table and set the plate down in front of her son. “There you are, Shingo. I know you like them a little burnt.”

When Shingo didn’t answer, Ikuko laid her cool hand against the back of his neck. She felt his spine stiffen with fear. Even his own mother was setting him on edge. It seemed there was nothing that couldn’t frighten him now.

She resisted the urge to chew on her lip.

“Burning again,” Kenji muttered brusquely.

“More for Shingo,” she insisted. Then Ikuko spun back to the burners and focused her attention on the pancakes. None of her family ate much, leaving a sizeable stack in the center of the kitchen table. This was normally unheard of, but Ikuko had nearly filled the refrigerator with leftovers as of late, something she was not accustomed to with two growing children in the house. As she expected and hoped against, both Usagi and Shingo immediately retreated to their rooms once they had spent enough time in the kitchen. Ikuko winced every time Usagi’s crutches struck one of the steps, making them creak.

Kenji drank the last of his third cup of coffee. “We’re out of coffee.”

Ikuko nodded. “I’ll buy some more at the store.”

He didn’t thank her. He got to his feet, and it was only then that Ikuko noticed he was dressed.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Work,” he muttered.

Ikuko’s mouth fell open. “But it’s Sunday!”

“One of the copy editors has… been out sick,” Kenji sighed. Ikuko could tell from his tone that the copy editor in question had probably quit and fled the city like several others. Unemployment was at an all time low in Tokyo, particularly in the Juuban district, but the situation in its surrounding cities was worse than it had ever been in recent memory. “I offered to help in the interim.”

Ikuko felt like slamming her good spatula down on her countertops. It took an exceptional amount of willpower not to. “And you didn’t think of mentioning this to me?”

“I didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for days, but you’re always either too tired or going off to work.”

He shook his head. “Not today. I’m late.”

“Kenji!”

“We’ll talk later,” he insisted, turning away.

“You can’t take the car,” Ikuko called after him. “I need it to shop.”

Kenji didn’t respond, all but slamming the door on his way out. A moment later, she heard the engine turn over. She exhaled in exasperation, certain that he just hadn’t heard her but vexed all the same.

As he drove away, Ikuko struggled to work the kinks out of her shoulders. Then she turned to face the mess her family had left her with. She hoped she had room in the fridge for the pancakes.

“I don’t see how you can be late when you’ll be the only one there.”

-----

Mamoru hung up the phone with Motoki and then turned back to the oatmeal he’d left to cool when he’d rung his friend. It wasn’t steaming anymore, but now it just looked unappetizing. He pushed it aside and then strode back into the living room, sinking onto the couch. He flung his arm out, his fingers grasping Luna’s ear and tugging gently.

She purred, tilting her head until his fingers found the perpetually itchy spot. He scratched accordingly.

“And how’s Motoki?”

“Worried, but that’s no surprise,” Mamoru said. “Reika’s getting out of the hospital today, and he felt like talking about it.”

Luna scrunched her face up so that it almost seemed like she was raising an eyebrow made of whiskers. “What’s there to discuss about that?”

“Funny, I asked the same thing.”

She pulled her head away from his hand, flicking her tail back and forth. “I know you’re concerned about them both, Mamoru, but I hope you know that you’ve been doing everything you can even if it doesn’t feel like much.”

Mamoru nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I just wish I could fix the problem. I feel like I’m staring at a broken fuel pump waiting for it to heal itself.”

Luna chuckled knowingly. “How very male of you.”

He shrugged. “I just hope everything works out for them. They’re… good for each other. God knows Motoki’s insufferable without her.”

“And she’s going to need someone after what happened to her. Not that we know exactly what it was,” Luna murmured, the slight irritation in her voice unmistakable

Mamoru grunted and dug the heels of his hands into his temples. He wound up with some stray cat hairs in his eye for his trouble. “Damn feline.”

Luna jumped down from the back of the couch and used his lap as a launching pad to reach the coffee table. “If you don’t know how to avoid that by now, then you’re hopeless.”

He waved his hand sharply, deciding it was best to forget the matter for the time being. Besides, there more were pressing issues for him to talk about.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “About?”

“Pie recipes,” Mamoru drawled. “The mission. What else is there to think about?”

Her whiskers twitched. “There’s no need to get snippy.”

Mamoru ignored her. “It’s just… You’ve been running up and down the city for nearly a week now, right?”

“Yes,” Luna murmured, her small head drooping. “And I’ve had no luck. Not even an inkling of where the next Senshi could be, much less the princess.”

“I feel as though we’re being stretched too thin,” Mamoru confided, resting his chin on a fist. “There’s only three of us, not counting you. And with only Rei to do the heavy lifting and the promise of an insanely hectic semester for me….”

“Yes?”

Mamoru exhaled sharply. It was like ripping off a bandage. Best to get it over with quickly and deal with the pain right off.

“I’m thinking of taking a break from school.”

Luna’s reaction was more or less predictable in feeling, but not in action. Rather than immediately begin berating him verbally, she arched her back and hissed, extending claws that suddenly appeared quite deadly. Mamoru found himself leaning back without thinking.

“I really love that we can talk out our issues like civilized adults,” he deadpanned.

She spat. “What am I supposed to do? Tap dance? You’re dropping out!”

“It’s amazing how I say one thing, and people hear another,” Mamoru remarked. “I am not dropping out. I am taking a break.”

“I fail to see the difference.”

“I plan on going back.”

“Mamoru, I know you were a little overworked—"

“I barely slept during last term,” Mamoru interrupted. “And this next one promises to be much harder. Eventually, I’ll be observing at the hospital, and God forbid this thing is still going on when I’m supposed to be in residency… I’m sorry, Luna, but I don’t see how I can balance school and fighting the Dark Kingdom at the same time. It’s too much.”

Luna’s tail fluffed out menacingly. “I don’t like it. I don’t want you to put your life on hold for this.”

Mamoru laughed drily. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you found me.”

She looked briefly stung, but cats apparently had tougher skin than one would think. “I think you’ll regret this. You won’t be able to go back to your university.”

Mamoru shrugged. “So I’ll transfer. Maybe I can look into finishing my degree abroad when all of this is over.”

“And just how will you explain this time off? You can hardly tell the truth!”

Mamoru held his hands up in mock surrender. “All right. Calm down. I haven’t formally withdrawn my name. It’s just something I’ve been thinking over.”

“Well, I’m of the opinion that you should stop thinking it over at once.”

Mamoru rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Considering it’s my life and my degree, I’d think you’d be thrilled I mentioned it to you at all.”

Mamoru learned approximately three seconds later that this was precisely the wrong thing to say.

-----

After finishing her slow ascent up the stairs and hobbling into her bedroom, Usagi shut the door as quietly as possible. She dropped her crutches and threw herself on the mussed covers, gathering her pillows and stuffed rabbits into her arms. She buried her face into the smooth, cool cloth and let out a loud, but now muffled, groan. That accomplished, she turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Everything was coming undone, and she didn’t know how to help. She knew she should try being a better sister and do more than tiptoe around Shingo. She ought to do something to help him. The trouble was, she didn’t know how to make it better.

Truth be told, even if Usagi were smarter, she wasn’t sure she was grounded enough to be of much use anyway. After hearing about Motoki, she’d felt off-balance. Usagi didn’t know what to be most distraught about. That Motoki was upset, that he wasn’t there, that she was killing herself over him, or that he’d had a girlfriend all this time.

“Idiot,” she murmured. “Of course he had someone. He’s too great of a guy not to. Not like his jerk best friend.” She dragged her teeth across her lower lip. “I just wish he’d told me… I wish I’d met her… Maybe then I wouldn’t have liked him so much.”

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “That’s a lie, Usagi. You shouldn’t tell lies. Good girls don’t lie.”

She found herself wondering for what felt like the fiftieth time if Motoki’s girlfriend -- Reika, that was her name: Nishimura Reika -- was a good person. Was she nice to him? Did she bake him cookies? Was she pretty? Did she love him? Did he love her?

So many questions she wanted to ask, but couldn’t because she couldn’t find Motoki. She wanted to know all of this, but most of all, she wanted to know if he was okay.

Usagi frowned, snorting. “I’m beginning to get desperate enough to find Mamoru and ask him.”

Suddenly, there was a quiet knock on the door. Usagi sat up quickly, checking her reflection to see if it was obvious she’d been crying. Her blue-eyes were red-rimmed, but not much more than they had been at breakfast. She brushed off any last evidence of tears and then called out, “Come in!”

Her brother poked his pale head in. Not for the first time, Usagi found herself frowning at his hollowing cheeks and sunken eyes. He was beginning to look like an old, frightened man trapped in a small boy’s body.

“Mom wants us to go to the store with her.”

Usagi tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“I guess Dad took the car when he wasn’t supposed to. She needs us to help her carry things back.” He paused, lowering his voice to answer what she couldn’t bear to ask. “He went to work. Again.”

“But it’s Sunday!” Usagi hissed.

Shingo just shrugged.

“Besides, how can I help her carry anything? I’m on crutches!”

Shingo hesitated. “She said you could just carry light things in plastic bags and sling them over your wrists.” He swallowed. “But I think she just doesn’t want to leave you alone.”

Usagi’s eyes softened. Her mother worried like everyone else. In other circumstances, Usagi might have insisted on staying home, but she knew things weren’t going well for her mother with Shingo’s fear, her father’s absence, and Usagi’s own inability to make things easier. She could do this much.

Still, she grumbled about it just to give the situation some semblance of normalcy. “Fine,” she muttered, reaching down for her crutches. “Might as well. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“You’re not going to walk back down the arcade today?”

“Maybe,” she answered, struggling to her feet. “If I’m not too tired out from this.”

“It’s not a long walk,” he reminded her.

She laughed sadly and started to make her way out of the room. “For me, going to the bathroom is a long walk.”

Shingo gave her a sympathetic look and then turned to get dressed. Usagi stared after him, suddenly missing the days when he would have just called her fat or lazy. This quiet, polite Shingo was not her brother. It disturbed her beyond words that she could actually miss his bratty behavior in favor of this other Shingo. But if he was so nervous that he couldn’t even risk her wrath, his own sister, she didn’t want him.

“Come back soon,” she whispered as he shut his own door. “I miss you.”

-----

The walk to the grocery store took nearly twice as long because of Usagi, but Ikuko didn’t mind. She wasn’t in much of a hurry to get back to a house so somber they may as well have been in mourning. Being out in the sunshine made her feel somewhat better about their situation, even if Shingo jumped at every passing car and Usagi’s normally bright blue eyes were dull.

“So,” Usagi panted as the automatic doors slid open. “What exactly do you need?”

“Your father says we’re out of coffee,” Ikuko answered, glancing down at her list. “We also need eggs, milk, paper towels – you can probably carry that, Usagi – and some things for dinner the next few nights. Oh, and some cleaning supplies. Don’t worry, your brother and I will handle most of this. Won’t we, Shingo?” She glanced over to her left, where Shingo had been during the walk down, and found empty air.

Ikuko’s heart lodged in her throat. Missing. Her son was missing. She’d brought him with her so nothing would happen to him, and now she’d lost him because of a damn grocery list! Her purse fell to the ground, and she started to turn, prepared to run and retrace her steps until she found him. She opened her mouth to scream his name.

And then she saw him, standing just outside the doors.

She jogged back through the doors, instantly wrapping Shingo in a sudden, potentially embarrassing embrace. She felt him tense in her arms, but sadly, she suspected it had nothing to do with boyish pride. “Shingo! Don’t do that! I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, but you scared me half to death.”

“Shingo?” Usagi asked tentatively, leaning down from her crutches, her pale brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Ikuko leaned back and took a very long look at her son. He’d grown increasingly pale, but now he seemed chalk white. His eyes looked so wide she felt an outlandish concern that they’d tumble out of his skull. His back was so straight that his whole body was shaking, and his mouth hung open, a high-pitched whine whistling from his lips.

“Oh, my,” Ikuko muttered, taking her son’s face between her hands. “Shingo? God, you’re freezing. What’s the matter? Shingo, talk to me.”

“It’s the crowd.”

Ikuko craned her neck to look at her daughter, who had somehow managed to retrieve the purse without toppling over. She was so used to hearing Usagi whine and sound consistently unsure of herself. Listening to the certainty in her fourteen-year-old’s voice left her uneasy. “The crowd?”

“I think so anyway,” Usagi said softly. “He hasn’t really been in a crowd since… you know.”

“Oh,” Ikuko murmured, feeling impossibly stupid. How insensitive could she be? In her haste to protect her child physically, she had forgotten about his mental concerns. It would have been better just to leave Usagi with him at home and buy fewer things or take someone else’s car.

Or she could have just stayed home and let Kenji buy his own damn coffee.

Ikuko shut her eyes and clenched her jaw, steadying herself. Getting upset wouldn’t change anything. She smoothed Shingo’s hair away from his face. “All right, Shingo. Don’t worry. I don’t need any help getting the groceries. So why don’t you and Usagi stay out here while I pick everything up? Then you can just help me carry it back, and your sister can have a rest.” She turned. “Is that all right with you?”

Usagi nodded. “Definitely.”

“Good. I won’t be long.”

Ikuko straightened and started to walk away. She paused just outside the doors, wondering if she ought to tell Usagi not to move, but ultimately decided against it. The walk had tired Usagi out. Besides, her daughter was something of a flake, but lately she’d seemed strangely… capable. She hardly seemed like the same person anymore.

Then Ikuko went inside, grabbed an abandoned cart, and began picking out all of the necessary items. She’d been planning on browsing at her leisure and possibly picking out some wine to unwind, but now she decided against it. It would be best to get only the things they were in desperate need of and leave the rest for another time.

Ikuko sped up and down the aisles, reaching for familiar brands rather than attempting to obtain the best price. Kenji had been obsessing over the bills lately, so she’d been trying to do her best to save money, but with as much overtime as Kenji was putting in, she didn’t see a need to cut corners. Soon, she’d gotten everything she absolutely needed. All she needed now was the coffee.

She careened around the corner and quickly remembered why it was a bad idea to be in such a rush at the store. She gasped when she saw a pair of surprised chocolate brown eyes staring into her own. She immediately tried to stop herself or redirect her progress, but she was as clumsy as her daughter in the end. While she just barely managed to miss this stranger, she got her apron caught on a low shelf and felt it rip away from her body. She cried out in surprise as the light cloth fluttered to the ground, torn and fraying. She stared at it and felt her eyes well with tears. Her daughter was hurt, her son was constantly terrified, her husband was avoiding her, and now she couldn’t even manage a trip to the grocery store without incident.

What kind of mother was she?

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the stranger said. She might have taken some secret pleasure in the sound of his deep, smooth voice that warmed her skin like a drink of brandy if she hadn’t been so frazzled. “I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

“No,” Ikuko croaked, dimly ashamed of her own uncultured tone. She didn’t look away from the apron, the one Shingo had bought for her last birthday. She could just barely make out his name on the back. He’d written it in permanent marker, but countless washes had faded it over time. The tear went right through the ‘h.’ “No, I should have been more careful.”

The stranger crossed into her line of vision. He was tall and quite handsome with a nice smile. She wondered if he loved his mother or if he had a wife he spent time with on Sundays when things were hard.

He crouched down and inspected the apron with his back to her. She didn’t know what he was doing with it, but whatever it was, he seemed to be taking his time. It felt like a full minute before he got to his feet again. His smile wasn’t quite as wide. “I’m afraid there’s a fair amount of damage. If you want, I could get you another one.”

She reached out and brushed her hand against the fabric. She felt some sort of spark, like static shock. Then her fingers clamped around the apron like a claw.

“No,” she said, her voice strangely clear. “It’s all right. I’ll just sew it back up. I don’t mind. I quite like sewing.” This of course was patently untrue, but Ikuko could certainly figure out how to patch it. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would be useable.

He smiled and bent his head as if he were tipping an invisible hat. “All right then. Sorry once again.”

She didn’t answer him as he walked away. She just stood there for a moment, staring down at the apron.

It was odd. Just a few minutes ago she’d felt like a basket of nerves and overtired. But now she felt energized. And it was a good thing too, she realized. She’d been letting the housework go during this family crisis, but now she felt that wasn’t acceptable. She couldn’t very well expect to have a happy family with all that dust in the living room, now could she?

Resolved, Ikuko sped towards the checkout line, knocking into one woman’s cart on the way and cutting another one off at the open register. She paid for her purchases and then wheeled the cart out to where Usagi and Shingo were waiting.

Both of her children straightened from where they leaned against the wall. Usagi gave her a reassuring smile, her hand on Shingo’s shoulder. “That was quick.”

“Told you it wouldn’t take long,” Ikuko chirped, gathering up several bags in her arms.

Usagi and Shingo gaped. “Mama, aren’t you taking too much? There’s only one bag left!”

“No, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Come on. I’ve got a lot to do at home. Can’t waste time lolly-gagging.”

She was on her way instantly, humming to herself as Usagi and Shingo did their best to keep pace with her. She was determined to make it home in less time than it had taken them to get there. Yes, Usagi might be tired, but the exercise would certainly do her some good. Besides, she was young and resilient. They both were. In spite of her worries, Ikuko suddenly felt as though everything would be all right, and it would be all right because she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It took her three blocks to realize that she’d forgotten the coffee.

-----

“Crescent Beam!”

The golden light streaked forward, blowing a hole the size of a baseball through the smooth flesh. The life instantly slipped away from its leaf-green eyes, and it crumbled, a worthless carcass.

Sailor V nodded brightly and then turned to where her guardian hid. “See. Told you I could take it out in less than five minutes.”

Artemis emerged from behind the dumpster, grumbling, “That took at least six.”

“It did not!”

“It couldn’t have been five.”

“You’re a cat! It’s not like you have a watch.”

Artemis twitched his whiskers, frowning as much as his feline features would allow. “Fine. Maybe it was five.”

Sailor V beamed.

“But then it must have been one weak youma.”

Her shoulders drooped. “You’re so mean.” She paused. “Well, that did seem really easy. But it would make sense that Kunzite would hold back his better hunters. After all, he’s just trying to supplement what Nephrite’s doing.”

Artemis glanced over at the fallen demon. “Do you think he’ll retrieve it?”

Sailor V scoffed. “Please. It’s not like they’re his pets.” Still, she bent down and scooped him up and then pushed off the ground hard, soaring upwards. She laid one hand down on the edge of the building and swung herself onto the roof. Then she sank down on the ground, leaning back on her elbows.

“Taking a break, are we?” Artemis asked, lightly jumping to the ground.

“I think I deserve it after that fantastic display,” she said with a grin. In the next moment that grin twisted into a frown. It happened so fast, Artemis’s head spun. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Recognizing a serious tone that would no doubt seem mythic to her teachers, Artemis sat, curling his tail around his knees. “You’re worried.”

“I always worry,” she reminded him. “It’s an inherited trait.”

“They’ll be all right you know.”

“Maybe,” she muttered, pursing her lips. “I just don’t like the publicity they’ve been getting. I like the debate about them even less.” Her eyes darkened. “And don’t get me started on the military interference.”

Artemis hissed in irritation. “Imbeciles. Sticking their noses into things they don’t understand.”

“At least they haven’t been able to do anything substantial since the hospital attack,” she said. “But their response time has been getting better. What if next time they manage to come in during the battle? They have guns. I don’t like guns. They’re so… modern. They don’t seem like the right weapons.”

“Worse comes to worst, you can always just lead them away from the action.”

“I’d rather not have to,” she admitted, drawing her hand away. “Besides, you’re the one lecturing me about blowing my cover too soon.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying in case of emergency.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Emergencies. I like those less than I like guns.”

“And here I thought you liked surprises.”

“Not bad surprises.”

“My mistake,” he chuckled.

Suddenly, they heard a sharp scream echo through the night. Sailor V was on her feet in a moment, Artemis already gathered in her arms. He looked up to see a triumphant smirk already lighting up her face.

“Bet I can do it in five again.”

He smirked. “You’re just too chicken to say four.”

She bopped him on the head before racing off into the night.

-----

Usagi was wearing what was quite possibly the most gorgeous dress she’d ever seen in her life – not that she could see it all that clearly. It was white and probably silk or satin or some other impossibly rich fabric she’d never worn before. The bust was tight-fitted and embroidered with pearl and lace, while the full skirt fell away from the empire waist. It felt like a dress that had been spun from cloud and moonlight. It was finer than anything she could have hoped to own.

And she was dancing. She knew she was dreaming because she moved gracefully. She didn’t trip even once, performing complicated spins and dips without the slightest bit of effort or hesitation. She pouted a little, resentful that she could be so elegant in her dreams and so spastic in real life.

She moved from partner to partner, trading one tuxedoed man for another, until her hand slipped into another’s. She knew in an instant that this partner was important. Her face broke into what she hoped was a beautiful smile for the man she knew was Tuxedo Kamen.

“I knew you’d be here,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound quite like her own. Deeper and more musical. She liked it.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he answered, drawing her closer than her other dance partners would have dared.

Her heart pounded embarrassingly loud in her chest. She was so close to him! Granted, she’d hugged him before, but that had been different. She’d been hysterical and forced herself on him. Now he wanted her to be close. Did that mean he wanted her?

They spun away a little away from the choreographed dancers with their ever-changing partners. He led her to the outskirts of the floor where they could have a moment to themselves. She felt her cheeks warm in a blush. “We shouldn’t do this. People will talk.”

He laughed. It was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. To think that someone as serious as him could laugh! It was beautiful. She wanted to record it on a tape and play it every night so she could fall asleep to its sound. “My darling little princess, people started talking the moment I walked through the door with fully armed escort.”

Usagi’s heart leapt. He called her his princess! That was the sweetest thing he could have said to her. She always wanted to be a princess. They were so beautiful and refined. She couldn’t hope to ever be like one, but it was a nice, childish dream she liked to indulge when she tired of longing to simply be a bride.

But she didn’t express this. Instead she laughed, and it sounded nothing like her own. She didn’t like this nearly as much as she liked her dream voice. “So you couldn’t talk him out of it after all?”

Tuxedo Kamen shrugged. There was something weird on his shoulder. Was he wearing armor? “You know how he is: overly cautious.”

Usagi wanted to know who this "he" was. The only careful boy she knew was Umino, and she couldn’t imagine Umino carrying a weapon with any success. Did he mean Motoki? But how would he know Motoki?

Sadly, she didn’t know how to actually ask what was on her mind. She simply laughed again, and Usagi decided she definitely didn’t like it. “We shall have to try and cure him of that. It won’t do for him to lug a sword to every masque.”

Sword?

“Good luck to you,” Tuxedo Kamen answered taking her through a complicated series of movements. Her dream self didn’t bat an eyelash. “I rather suspect he brings it to bed with him.”

He dipped her, and she watched in amazement as she brought one of her legs up, one foot perfectly pointed in what she swore was a literal glass slipper.

Usagi heard another laugh, feminine and soprano. She loved it and its owner immediately, though she didn’t recognize it at all. Then she heard, “And just what do you bring to your bed, Prince?”

Usagi instantly retracted her approval. Who knew Tuxedo Kamen well enough to give him a nickname? Who did she think she was, calling him Prince?

But her dream self did something infuriating and giggled yet again. Tuxedo Kamen brought her upright, and Usagi turned to face this intruder. She took a deep breath and braced herself to face her rival.

Usagi’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t believe it! Her mother was in love with Tuxedo Kamen too?

Usagi groaned and blinked rapidly, shaking her head. The image of the fine ballroom slipped away like watery paint sliding down paper. She was back in her room, and her mother was in there. Vacuuming.

Usagi reached over to her endtable and grabbed the bunny alarm clock. She stared at the numbers, not comprehending them for a full minute. They couldn’t possibly be right, after all. But one glance out the window to see the sun low in the morning sky confirmed her worst fears.

“Mom!” Usagi whined. “Don’t you know what time it is?”

“Yes, of course, dear,” Ikuko nearly shouted over the vacuum. “It’s 5:30. Really, dear, I know it’s not a digital clock, but you are fourteen. Surely you can tell time by now.”

Usagi felt her ears turning red. “I know what time it is, Mama. I’m just not sure you realize it’s 5:30. In the morning!”

Ikuko chuckled. “Well, it wouldn’t do to vacuum at 5:30 in the evening, would it? I’ll be cooking dinner then.”

Usagi gaped. “Mom, all you did yesterday after we got home from the store was clean! What could possibly be dirty after all that?”

Ikuko clucked her tongue in disappointment, pushing Usagi’s desk chair out of the way of her vacuum. “Really, sweetie, if you’re going to be a housewife, you’re going to have to learn how much work it takes to keep a house clean. I’ve let things go for the past few days, and I just can’t rest until it’s all set to rights.”

“But I could sleep!” Usagi insisted. “I was sleeping. And having a very nice dream.”

Ikuko patted her on the head as she swept past, still pushing the vacuum cleaner. “You can have it again tonight.”

Usagi moaned, practically throwing the clock back into place. She wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but if her mother really wanted to clean her room, clearly nothing on this earth would stop her. Getting any more shut-eye was out of the question. She shoved the covers off, pulled herself upright with the crutches, and shoved her feet into her bunny slippers. “At least tell me you made breakfast.”

“Downstairs. You better hurry before your father and brother finish it all.”

Normally, this threat would be enough to send Usagi hurrying to the table, but at this hour, nothing short of a fire or alien invasion would get her moving. So it was a slow trip out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen. And when she got there, she realized that there was no possible way Shingo and her father could have ever hoped to consume all the food before her.

Not only had Ikuko made pancakes, something she usually only did on Sundays, but she had made a wide variety of pancakes – Usagi could identify blueberry, chocolate chip, and apple cinnamon from where she stood. She also saw that there was a stack of waffles and one of French toast. As she drew closer, she also discovered a plate full of ham, an assortment of eggs that included scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up, and finally, a bowl of fruit salad with all the grapes peeled just as Shingo liked.

“Did Mom sleep?” Usagi asked breathlessly.

“She said she had insomnia,” her father admitted groggily. “I had no idea she was doing this.”

Usagi opened and closed her mouth three times before she managed to speak again. “I’ve never seen this much food in my life.”

Shingo leaned back in his chair, holding his bulging stomach. “So many pancakes…”

“There were more?!”

“He ate the whole stack of buttermilk after his mother practically shoved them in his mouth,” Kenji muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Unbelievable. All this effort put into breakfast, and no coffee. Thank God we still had tea. She woke me up an hour ago cleaning.”

Usagi turned to Shingo, expecting him to volunteer his own information. He simply continued groaning about how full he was.

“I think he’s been awake for half an hour,” Kenji said.

Usagi laid her crutches against the table and sat down. Kenji helped her push her chair in. “I just… I can’t believe she did all of this.”

“Neither can I,” Kenji muttered. “I’ve been too shocked to eat any of it.”

Usagi sighed and reached forward, grabbing a slice of French toast first. “You’d better dig in. I bet Mom will be mad if you don’t eat anything.”

Kenji shrugged and began spooning some of the fruit salad onto his plate. Then he reached around behind the mountain of pancakes and pulled out a plate of homemade croissants Usagi hadn’t seen before.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence, aside from Shingo’s occasional moan. A few weeks ago, Usagi’s father would have led the conversation at breakfast, asking them about what they planned to do and pulling other topics from the air, waking them all up with talking instead of vacuuming. But Kenji remained withdrawn for the rest of the meal, hunched over his plate and cup of tea until he was finished. Then he rose and went upstairs, presumably to dress for work.

Usagi sighed at his retreating back, stabbing at her waffle. She was sick of watching her family do this to themselves. She’d been sitting around most mornings, waiting until she thought Motoki might be at work and found herself constantly disappointed. She didn’t think she could take the routine today. It was time to shake things up.

“If Mom asks, I went out for a walk.”

-----

Mamoru slowed to a stop at his usual bridge, bending at the waist and resting his hands on his thighs. He’d always loved his daily run, but lately he knew he’d been overdoing it. He assumed that the fighting would inevitably make him healthier, which would then mean he could push himself more. He continually neglected to factor his habitual lack of sleep, which made even his usual pace seem grueling.

Mamoru straightened and turned to face the river, letting his hands dangle over the edge. He also didn’t usually run quite this early. It was barely dawn. Unfortunately, he’d been on the receiving end of yet another dream. Nothing special about it – shadowy princess begging him to find the Ginzuishou. But he knew better than to try and go back to sleep after one of those. Since he hadn’t woken up Luna for once, he decided he had nothing better to do and went for the jog.

Now that he wasn’t focusing on his heart rate or breathing techniques, there was little to do but actually consider his immediate future. He’d been serious about leaving school for the next term. These weeks without having to worry about homework and studying on top of fighting the Dark Kingdom had been blissful comparatively. He even slept occasionally, though still not well enough. He didn’t see how he was going to go back to the grueling pace of the previous semester. Just thinking about it made him nauseous.

But Luna was right to be concerned. He didn’t much relish the idea of putting his life on hold either. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if there was much of an alternative.

The most upsetting aspect about the situation would be that he would not be able to return to his university. He had heard that American universities were understanding of students needing to take a semester or even a year off in the middle of obtaining their degree for personal reasons. Japanese schools were not so lenient without a very good reason. Too bad he didn’t have one they’d believe.

He’d have to attempt to apply for a transfer once he’d gotten everything sorted, which he knew would be difficult in spite of his stellar grades. His best hope was probably studying abroad somewhere. But that would only be an option if they were able to defeat the Dark Kingdom in time for the Spring Semester in the States. He decided not to think of the possibility that this could go on for longer.

Worst of all, it meant putting his dream on hold. He’d wanted to be a doctor ever since he woke up in the hospital and forgotten his name, his parents, everything that had come before. The doctors and nurses there had been impossibly kind, doing everything they could to improve his health in addition to sparking his memories. They had failed in the latter, but succeeded in the former enough to inspire him to follow in their footsteps. If he took a semester or even a year off, it would be putting off his dream.

And he may even be putting it off indefinitely.

With a shudder, he spun around, prepared to take off running once again so he could stop thinking about it. However, when he did so, he immediately had to skid to a stop before he bowled over a girl walking in the opposite direction along the bridge.

“Sorry!” he apologized immediately, bowing. “I didn’t see—"

But then he did see. The long blonde pigtails trailing past the knees, including one in a brace – a petite body held up by a pair of crutches. It seemed once again the universe had conspired to bring him face to face with his other greatest enemy. Strange that he had to keep saving his nemesis’s neck.

“Oh,” Usagi muttered without enthusiasm. “Hello.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? Not ‘Hello, jerk?’”

Usagi shrugged and hobbled over to the thick railing. She leaned against it, and Mamoru noticed she seemed almost as tired as he was. He’d broken his leg playing soccer in high school, and remembered with dull sympathy that getting around on crutches was not as easy as it looked. “Too early. Too tired.”

“Huh,” he murmured, glancing towards the still rising sun. “Guess it is pretty early for you.”

She groaned and leaned forward until it seemed as though she might tip over the side. Mamoru carefully edged forward in case he had to perform some early morning heroics. “It’s too early for anyone in their right minds… which I guess explains why you’re out here.”

“Don’t make me laugh so hard. I might strain something.”

She waved a hand at him, dismissing his attempt to get a rise out of her. Apparently it really was too early for her to do much of anything. He was half-tempted to leave before she bored him to death.

But only half.

“Anyway, for your information, I’m not usually out this early either,” he confided, resting his back against the railing. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Maybe if you didn’t drink all that coffee.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. You?”

“My mother,” Usagi moaned in that voice Mamoru had heard so many other girls at his high school use several years before. The only difference was he no longer felt the need to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping that they ought to be grateful they had one. He didn’t feel the need, but he did it anyway.

“She was vacuuming my room,” Usagi elaborated. “At 5:30. Who does that? Did your mother ever do that?”

His teeth sank deeper into the moist flesh. “No.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

He shut his eyes and for the thousandth time, tried to picture his mother. He tried to push beyond the mysterious silhouette to see her face. He tried to rid his mind of the sound of her echoing scream as they soared off the cliffside and tried to remember her voice, her laugh, her song. He tried to dredge up the buried memories, tried to know who he was before he woke up in that hospital bed.

And for the thousandth time he found nothing at all. His mind was an empty desert. A vast ocean. A bottomless pit. A tomb.

“I guess so,” he murmured softly.

Usagi sighed loudly and spun around on her good heel. Then she sank to the ground so quickly Mamoru wondered if she was masking a klutz attack. “The worst part is that I can’t even be mad at her.” She looked up at Mamoru, her bright blue eyes soft as pillow down. “We’ve all been pretty tense the past few weeks what with… well, you know.”

She reached down and gently brushed her leg brace with her fingertips.

“Yeah,” he muttered, swallowing his guilt like foul medicine.

“Shingo’s been jumpy ever since the attack on the arcade. The first one I mean. You were there.” She blinked, straightening. “Come to think of it, where were you that whole time?”

He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was in the bathroom the whole time. Missed all the excitement.”

“Lucky,” she said with some resentment. “Wish Shingo could have been there… Anyway, it’s gotten worse since this last one. I guess since it was at the same place, he must have relapsed. Or gotten worse actually.” She banged her head lightly against the stone. “And Daddy’s been no help. He’s been spending all of his time at work. Do you know he actually went to work on Sunday? No one goes to work on Sunday! He said he had something to do, but I think he just didn’t want to be home.

“Mom’s been holding it together really well, but yesterday she took Shingo and me to the store, and Shingo… panicked. He wouldn’t even go in.” She pulled her good leg towards her chest and hugged it, resting her chin on her kneecap. “I think Mom blames herself for it. Like she should have known he’d freak out like that. I guess it made her… snap. So now she thinks she has to clean the house and make enough breakfast to feed the Japanese Army.”

Mamoru folded his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes. “What’s Shingo been doing? Exactly.”

Usagi blinked, as if realizing for the first time that she’d just revealed personal information to him. The soft eyes hardened to steel quick as a heartbeat. “Why do you care?”

Since he could hardly tell her the truth, he just smiled as gently as he could manage. “Please.”

Usagi continued frowning, but after a moment she acquiesced. “Well, he hasn’t been sleeping much. One time last week when he actually was sleeping, he had a nightmare. He woke up screaming, and when we tried to calm him down, he nearly hit my mom.” She gave her leg an extra squeeze. “I don’t think he was really awake yet. He doesn’t want to go out of the house, and when he does, he jumps at every little noise like he thinks one of those monsters is going to pop out. He even goes out of his way to be nice to me so I don’t get mad at him.” She laughed, but her voice sounded thick.

Mamoru didn’t know what he would do if she started crying.

“It sounds like PTSD to me.”

“Eh?”

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Mamoru explained. “I’m surprised you don’t have it too actually; you went through something a lot more disturbing than him, but he’s younger and everyone handles these things differently. It’s basically an anxiety disorder people get after experiencing some kind of traumatic event. Actually, diagnoses are way up ever since all of this… stuff started happening.”

Mamoru wondered exactly how long the others would laugh if they knew he had just reduced their mission and the war to “stuff.”

He had been hoping that the information would make Usagi feel better, but now she looked up at him with eyes beginning to water. He felt his heart start to pound so fast he may as well have been running again. He wondered if there was an anxiety disorder about men who had panic attacks when women cried around them.

“Is it… curable?”

“Yes. Sort of. Based on what I’ve read, cognitive therapy works best when it comes to getting over traumatic events. That and learning stress management techniques, like meditation and breathing exercises.”

She stared at him for a moment, then ducked her head, trying to wipe at her eyes discreetly. “Mom’s been trying to talk to Dad about getting Shingo therapy.”

“Good,” he said, impossibly thankful for the woman’s sense on top of Usagi reigning herself in. “I hope it all works out.”

“Thanks.” She sniffed loudly. “How do you know so much about this stuff anyway? You’re not really a psychopath, are you?”

He shook his head. “Just pre-med.”

Usagi whipped her head back up to him so fast he was concerned for her neck. “Really? You’re studying to be a doctor?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Her cheeks flushed pink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I guess I just didn’t picture you doing anything but sitting at the arcade drinking coffee, stealing my friends, or abusing your cat.”

“I do not abuse my cat.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t.”

Mamoru swatted at one of her buns. “Shut up, Odango.”

“Don’t call me that!” she shouted, pushing his hand away. Then she heaved yet another epic sigh. “I should probably be getting back home. Naru’s getting back from vacation today, and she said she’d stop by.” She began to push herself up and then realized that she couldn’t. “Oh, this was a very bad idea.”

“I had thought that,” Mamoru teased. He pushed himself off the barricade and offered his hand. “Here, let me help.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not going to toss me into the river?”

He scoffed. “Come on. You can’t think I’m that big of a jerk.”

She gave him a look that clearly informed him that yes, she did think that.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t throw you into the river.”

“Or drop me on the ground?”

“Or drop you on the ground."

“Or—"

“For heaven’s sake, would you just let me help you up?”

Usagi still seemed hesitant, but after a moment, she realized that she really had no other way to get up without either embarrassing or hurting herself. So it was with great reluctance and a sour face that she took Mamoru’s hand. Once he was sure she was ready, he pulled her up. Unfortunately, he overestimated how much she weighed (with all those sundaes she packed away, he really didn’t think he could be blamed for this mistake). As a result, he pulled too hard. She squealed in surprise and tried to right herself. Mamoru grabbed her other hand to hold her steady. But once she was on her feet, he felt reluctant to let go, enjoying the feeling of the way their fingers interlocked.

Mamoru suddenly felt very aware of how pink her lips were.

“You can let me go now.”

He shook his head rapidly and did as she asked. “Sorry. Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“Yeah,” she squeaked, her face cherry red as she hopped over to her crutches.

“We really need to stop, er… bumping into each other like that.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounded like she was choking on the awkwardness in the air.

Mamoru inhaled sharply. “Guess I’d better be on my way.”

“Sure.” Then bit her lip and said, “Hey, Mamoru?”

He stopped. “Hm?”

“Thanks,” she muttered, looking somewhat resentful that she had to say it. “About Shingo. It’s nice to know… I’m glad I know what it is.”

“You’re welcome,” Mamoru said, hoping his smile was reassuring. “It’ll be okay, you know. Your brother, your parents… even your leg.”

She smiled back at him, her teeth sparkling in between those pink lips. “I know.”

He started to jog off and with his back to her, raised his hand to wave goodbye. “Have a good day, Odango Atama!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

Mamoru chuckled at the sound of the familiar scream. “Yeah, you’ll be just fine.”

-----

Ikuko vigorously wiped her brow, standing back from Usagi’s room with a feeling of extreme pride and accomplishment. Normally, it was up to her daughter to keep her space clean, but as long as Ikuko couldn’t sit still, she saw no reason not to do it herself. Now it was thoroughly scrubbed, vacuumed, dusted, and decluttered. Just like the rest of her home.

Because a happy home was a clean one.

She quickly gathered up all of the cleaning supplies and went off to put them away. It wouldn’t do to have a clean home but have all of the cleaning materials still sitting out, of course. It always threw off the mood of a room to have a feather duster or a bottle of Windex lying about. Once those were out of the way, she went downstairs to find Shingo sitting on the couch. Alone.

Ikuko paused at the foot of the stairs, staring at the unoccupied living room. She swallowed, but her mouth was dry. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Well, Dad’s at work—"

Work. Work. Of course, Kenji was always at work lately. But didn’t he see how much she’d put into cleaning up the house? She hadn’t even slept the night before! Couldn’t he take one day off to appreciate her work rather than hiding at his own?

“—and Usagi said she was going for a walk.”

A walk. Ridiculous! Ikuko knew getting around on those crutches drained her daughter, and she also knew that the injury hurt far more than the blonde cared to let on. Why had she felt the need to get out? Was being at home really that horrible for all of them? Was she such a horrible mother that her family didn’t want to stay at the home she’d worked so hard to improve for them? Had all her effort been for nothing?

Ikuko clenched her hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

“Thanks again for breakfast, Mom,” Shingo said. “It was fantastic. I’m just sorry we couldn’t eat it all.”

Breakfast. Food. Yes, that was it! Getting the house in order was only half the battle. A happy family was a full family.

“You’re welcome, Shingo,” Ikuko called out brightly. “Just wait until lunch!”

And a happy family stayed home.

-----

Nephrite was grateful for the numerous old trees lining the block of the Tsukino’s street. He didn’t relish having to blend in to the human population in order to watch his targets. It was degrading. He much preferred skulking about in these leafy shadows, hidden from the world and observing Ikuko from afar.

Thus far, things had been progressing as normal. He was somewhat concerned about the lack of discord in the home stemming from Ikuko’s odd behavior. Normally, the subject would start to become belligerent by this point. Every time he had gotten a good look at Ikuko, she’d seemed perfectly content if exceptionally energized.

Then again, it was possible that she was simply having a reverse reaction. It was not entirely unheard of after all. Rather than becoming ruled by one’s anger, one was ruled by another emotion. Apparently, Ikuko had chosen unrelenting cheerfulness.

Nephrite’s consolation for this odd behavior was that it was not in any way similar to that of Reika’s. And when he looked at the older woman’s shadow, he did not experience the sensation that he was standing on the edge of a pit, that leaning in too far would send him tumbling into an abyss that had no end. She was human. She would not sprout a youma that would name herself, that would turn on him, that would speak of mysteries he had forgotten.

One of the Seven Dark Warriors. One of the Shadow Creatures.

Again, Nephrite mulled over Rikokayder’s words, seeking out the meaning behind the cryptic hints. He dove deep into the recesses of his memory, pushing past the 20th century and slipping back a thousand years. He remembered the screams of battle, the feel of the spear in his hand, Queen Serenity’s doleful cry when she saw her precious daughter among the fallen. But he remembered no group of youma that called themselves by such a name.

“The greatest of all youma,” he repeated, scoffing. “Pathetic.”

But even keeping this in mind, he couldn’t help but worry. In addition to naming herself and claiming her own greatness, the youma had claimed that it had fought against him. Still more worrisome, it purported to have beaten him.

It was ridiculous of course. He being conquered by a mere demon? Ludicrous. Perhaps these were stories whispered to the youth of the Dark Kingdom to give them confidence. Perhaps it was a fairy story similar to that of the human’s Santa Claus, if the youma had such a culture. Jadeite would have known, but Nephrite had never seen any reason to get close to those multi-colored vermin. They disgusted him as much as the humans. Their place in his life was to serve a purpose: humans were fuel and youma were the tools to collect that fuel. Nothing more.

But one youma had claimed that she had defeated him. Not just her, but six others like her.

Despite his confidence or arrogance, despite his superior abilities, and despite all of his assurances to the contrary, he couldn’t help but wonder. Yes, he had been able to easily defeat one youma who claimed she was born of the shadow. Yes, he could have killed her far sooner than he had. Yes, he could have even done it without calling in the Leo.

But could he fend off seven at once?

-----

The next day, Mamoru decided that it might be a good idea if he checked in on Motoki and Reika. Motoki had moved in at least temporarily to help Reika get her life back on track, and Mamoru had no doubt that both of them were stressing out about their situation. The least he could do was provide a distraction.

At least, this is what Luna told him when she got sick of him sitting on the couch.

“And why don’t you tell Motoki about your ludicrous idea?” she’d asked as he walked out the door. “I’m sure he’d agree with me!”

So now Mamoru was standing outside of Reika’s apartment, his arms full of crepes from Reika’s favorite French bakery. He knocked and was relieved when it was Motoki who opened the door, though he frowned when he got a good look at his towheaded friend.

“You still look like shit,” Mamoru informed him gravely.

Motoki nodded. “Yeah, well.”

“You don’t need a hug, do you?”

“I’m too tired to lift my arms at the moment.”

Mamoru held up the box. “I brought sugar.”

Motoki’s eyes sparkled like a child on Santa’s lap. “Please tell me you brought me strawberry?”

“And banana orange for Reika and chocolate for me.”

For a moment, Mamoru thought Motoki actually might cry, which would be decidedly worse than Usagi crying. “Bless you.”

“My nomination for canonization is already in the mail, I’m sure,” Mamoru quipped, stepping into the room and stepping out of his shoes and into the pair of guest slippers. He looked around, attempting to be subtle.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Motoki said, taking the lavender box from Mamoru. “Your ninja skills are slipping.”

Mamoru shrugged. “So I won’t make you call me sensei today.”

“For that, I am grateful.”

Mamoru leaned forward and whispered, “How’s she doing?”

Motoki shook his head and walked into the kitchen. “Not well. She’s been crying… a lot. I sort of consider it an event when she’s not crying. And she hasn’t left the apartment since she got home. Hell, it took me an hour today to convince her to even shower.” Motoki paused, flipping open the cardboard lid. “She avoids the bathroom as much as she can, and she doesn’t turn the light on when she goes in. She doesn’t want to see herself in the mirror.”

Mamoru hung his head, remembering that Reika’s hair was now permanently grey. “So she’s showering in the dark?”

“No, I went ahead and covered it,” Motoki answered. “Along with all the other mirrors in the house.”

“God, that’s awful… Is she sleeping all right? Any nightmares or other signs of PTSD?”

Motoki shook his head. “Not really, but it would be too soon to tell at this point. But she has been sleeping a lot. There’s not much else to do. She doesn’t want to watch TV for some reason. Why do you ask?”

Mamoru shrugged and strode over to the kitchen, snatching up one of the chocolate crepes. “I just ran into Usagi yesterday – yes, and we didn’t kill each other in your absence – and I think her brother’s having a hard time. Nightmares, panic attacks, fear of crowds, the usual.”

Motoki nodded, jamming a strawberry crepe into his mouth. “Sounds like you got the right diagnosis, Dr. Chiba.”

He chewed thoughtfully, remembering Luna’s suggestion. Motoki had a lot on his mind, but maybe Mamoru could unload just a little bit more without consequence. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. You see, I was thinking I might—"

“Oh. Mamoru.”

When Mamoru turned, it was only a matter of divine provenance that he didn’t choke on his crepe. To begin with, Reika was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas; Mamoru had never seen her out of designer clothing. Her face was devoid of make-up, and while Mamoru thought she was a naturally pretty girl, the stress of the past few days was weighing heavily on her. Her wet hair was wrapped in a towel, hiding her hair for the time being.

He swallowed the pastry and waved. “Hey, Reika.” The statement hung in the air awkwardly, but Mamoru was at a loss as to what to follow it up with. His brain seemed caught between asking how she was, commenting on her looks, or joking that she wasn’t crying. None of these seemed like viable options.

“He brought crepes,” Motoki volunteered. “He even remembered your favorite flavor. You’d think he was a decent friend or something.”

Mamoru laughed drily. “Orange banana is hard to forget.”

“Do you want any, Reika?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Mamoru frowned. Her voice sounded hoarse. He wondered if it was from crying or screaming into her pillow so Motoki didn’t hear.

“You sure?” Motoki asked. “I know you don’t like them as much when they’re not fresh.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Reika snapped, throwing herself on the couch like a petulant teenager and taking care that her towel didn’t slip.

Motoki gave Mamoru an imploring look, and it was then that Mamoru realized just what dire straits his friend was in. If Motoki was appealing to him for help with an emotional problem, the couple had officially hit rock bottom.

“Er, so… Read anything interesting lately?”

Motoki inhaled sharply and started waving his hands wildly. Motoki had never really been clear on subtlety in tense situations.

Reika pursed her lips. “Oh, I’ve been reading some very interesting things lately.”

Staring openly at Motoki, Mamoru said, “Well, maybe we shouldn’t—"

“Guide books about Africa,” she said pointedly. “I’m sure you know all about that, Mamoru. Motoki tells you everything. I was planning on what side trips I wanted to take when I wasn’t working. Africa’s a beautiful country, you know.”

Mamoru nodded nervously. “Looks that way on the Discovery Channel.”

“I’ll have to tune in more often,” Reika said, her voice thick. “Since I won’t be going.”

Motoki moaned through clenched teeth. “Reika, please—"

“I won’t go!” Reika practically shouted, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t care if I do get in. Maybe you’re right, and I am good enough, but I don’t care.”

Motoki pushed past Mamoru, reaching out to Reika but not getting close enough to actually touch her. “It would be a wonderful opportunity. Maybe it would do you good to get out of Tokyo.”

Reika shook her head forcefully and the towel-turban threatened to topple. “No, Motoki.”

“But—"

“I said no!” Reika yelled. Then, to Mamoru’s shock, she reached up and ripped the towel off her head. Despite the damp and the frizz, the color was unmistakable. Reika’s luxurious hair, the hair that had matched the color of her bay gelding, the hair she had taken so much pride in, shone silver in the afternoon sun. Mamoru couldn’t help but balk. Even though he’d prepared himself for it, seeing it was still a shock.

“How can I even think of getting out of the apartment?” she demanded, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t even bear it when you two look at me like this. I couldn’t face those looks day after day… pity, surprise, curiosity – I couldn’t take it!” She gestured sharply to Mamoru. “He can’t even come up with anything to say! He can’t ask me how I am, he can’t ask about my day, he can’t ask about anything after what happened. And who can blame him? There’s nothing to say. Nothing anyone can say to me because all I am now is the girl who got attacked!”

Reika choked back a sob and covered her mouth in embarrassment. Then she grabbed her towel from where she’d dropped it and ran back to her bedroom. They heard the lock slide into place and then a few moments later, Reika’s muffled sobs.

Once again, Mamoru could think of nothing to say.

“Damn it,” Motoki hissed, burying his face in his open palms. “I thought seeing someone else would do her some good.”

“Sorry,” Mamoru said lamely. “I know I put my foot in it.”

Motoki shook his head. “I think it doesn’t matter. Anything you said would have set her off.”

A particularly loud wail seemed to echo through the apartment.

“I think I’d better go,” Mamoru volunteered.

“Yeah… Sorry I’m such a lousy host. Hope you can find something to take up the rest of your day.”

“I’ll probably just drive around for awhile.” Mamoru sighed. “Sorry there’s not anything more I can do.”

Motoki led Mamoru out of the apartment. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you’re a superhero.”

That gave Mamoru a bad taste in his mouth. “Right.”

“See you later.”

“Bye.”

Motoki shut and locked the door behind him. Before Mamoru went on his way, he pressed his forehead against the yellowing wallpaper, breathing in so deeply he felt his lungs would burst. On the exhale, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Reika. I’m so sorry.”

Because even though there wasn’t much he could do now, there was a lot more he could have done before. Reika might have survived Nephrite’s attack, but Mamoru still hadn’t been able to save her.

He couldn’t let that happen ever again.

-----

For the first time in nearly a week, Kenji arrived home from work on time. He had been planning to stay later, but his boss had all but carried him out of the office and buckled his seatbelt for him. If gas hadn’t been so expensive thanks to paranoia caused by the current situation, he might have driven around for an hour or two. But he didn’t want to waste the money, and besides, Ikuko probably had dinner on the table waiting for him.

When he arrived home, he was surprised to find both of his children waiting for him in the foyer. He was equally surprised by the looks on their faces. Neither one of them had been acting much like themselves lately, but each of their expressions hit him like a heavyweight boxer punching him in the gut. Shingo, who Kenji had always saw as an overconfident child, now stood two steps behind his sister, his head bent and those dark circles blooming like wine stains around his eyes. And while part of him was pleased to see Usagi standing straight and tall despite her injury, to see the gravity on her face and the sharp set of her jaw, he couldn’t help but mourn the fact that his little girl had been forced to grow up so fast.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, setting aside shoes and briefcase.

“Mom,” his children chorused.

He winced, having assumed as much. “What’s she done? Rearranged the furniture again?”

“You know how she’s been talking about doing a cuisine from around the world night?” Usagi asked, her voice and face equally sour.

Kenji shrugged. “Yeah. Did she do it?”

“We’ve got traditional dishes from China, France, Italy – Sicily, not inland - India, South America, and I believe West Africa.”

He blanched. “Wow, that’s quite a spread. She must have been at that all day.”

“You have no idea,” Shingo murmured.

“But you see, that’s not the kicker,” Usagi deadpanned. “She didn’t just make one dish from each place. She made full meals. Five-course meals.”

Kenji had not been shocked enough for his jaw to drop since Ikuko had said yes to his proposal twenty years prior. This information did it.

“What!”

Usagi nodded in sad agreement. “She basically commandeered three other kitchens on the block to do it. I can’t tell you how many times Shingo and I have been yelled at today by the other mothers in the neighborhood.”

Kenji sighed in frustration, shoving his hand through his hair. “God… I don’t even want to think about how much this has cost us.”

Usagi stared at him for a moment, the blue eyes she’d gotten from him widening. For a moment, he thought she was going to burst into tears. But although her voice was thick and her eyes wet, she didn’t cry once during what she said to him next.

“Daddy, I love you. I know I don’t have to tell you that for you to know it, but I think you need to hear it before I say this… You are being absolutely horrible to Mom. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She thinks we’re all losing it, and you know she isn’t really wrong, but it’s not like you’ve been here to see it. She has been doing her best to try and stay grounded while the rest of us can’t, and I think she’s snapped. You know how you thought she slept on the couch last night because she couldn’t make her legs stop twitching? Well, she didn’t. She knitted us all scarves, hats, and gloves. Three sets each. In August. I don’t know what she’s trying to do, and it’s not my job to figure it out. It’s your job, which you’d know if you stayed around once in awhile!” Visibly shaking, Usagi stretched out her hand, pointing to the kitchen where Kenji could hear Ikuko banging pots. “So don’t you dare turn around and say you forgot something at the office just so you don’t have to deal with it. Help her!”

Kenji didn’t think he’d ever heard Usagi speak so passionately or maturely about anything. For a brief, childish moment, he wanted to take a moment to explain why he hadn’t been home, but he knew an instant later that it didn’t matter. He’d been wrong to stay away, even with the best of intentions. He felt intensely ashamed that he’d let things get this bad. He’d hoped Ikuko would be able to hold them all together; he’d been selfish to throw it all on her.

He walked forward and pressed his lips against his daughter’s forehead. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he kept moving, laying a hand on Shingo’s small shoulder, and headed for the kitchen.

He couldn’t believe the mess when he crossed the threshold. Ikuko, who normally did her best to clean as she went, had let spills remain and what seemed like a hundred ingredients lying on the packed counters. He remembered that three other kitchens in the neighborhood probably looked like this and stifled a groan.

The kitchen was a veritable cornucopia of scents, and while each of the dishes may have been appetizing individually, he felt nauseous underneath the bombardment. He covered his nose with his hand, knowing it would offend her, but deciding it was better than the alternative.

Ikuko spun around, and Kenji’s heart sank. Normally, he found something endearing and sexy about Ikuko when she was a little unkempt. But there was nothing remotely attractive about his wife now. Usagi was right; she was coming apart. Her hair hung around her head like a wild violet cloud, and she was covered in a layer of grime and grease from cooking. But the look Ikuko gave him was the worst. It wasn’t just shock at seeing him. It was guilt.

“You’re home,” she whispered in a horrible little voice. “I… I didn’t think you’d be getting in this soon. I wanted to have everything laid out for you.”

He looked at her in sympathy, hoping she didn’t mistake it for pity. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

Her face morphed into a mega-watt smile too quickly to be genuine. “Making dinner. You know I’ve wanted to do this for awhile.” Then she began busying herself by adding unknown spices to the shrimp boiling on the stove.

Kenji wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and make her sit down, but he knew better than to try. “Ikuko, you don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I do! You all need to eat.”

“You’re killing yourself for no reason,” Kenji insisted. “Listen, I know I’ve… been absent lately, and I can explain that even though I shouldn’t have. But right now I need you to sit down.”

When Ikuko shook her head, it was more like twitching. “Can’t! If I sat down, these would burn, and we can’t have that. Why don’t you and the kids just wait at the table?”

Kenji reached for her, stopping just short of physically pulling her away from the stove. “Ikuko, please! You need to stop this!”

Ikuko stopped, and for a second, Kenji thought that he’d gotten through to her. Then she slapped the wooden spoon onto the counter and grunted, “Cumin. I forgot to pick up cumin. I have to go get it.”

“No,” Kenji demanded. “Don’t. We need to talk.”

“The shrimp won’t have the right kick without the cumin, and I’d send you, but you won’t be able to find it and bring back coriander or cinnamon instead.” She walked past him as if he was a coat rack and sang out, “I’ll be back in ten minutes! Just turn those down.”

Kenji considered forcing her to stay home, but he suspected that might do more damage than just letting her go and dealing with the problem later. He was completely over his head with this situation. He’d prepared himself for her anxieties about the children, Usagi crying over boyfriends, and Shingo’s admittedly bratty behavior. He had no idea what to do with a traumatized son, an injured daughter, and a delusional wife.

Rather than turn them down, Kenji turned the burners off, removing what seemed to be done from the heat. He contemplated just throwing them out, but there was no telling how his wife would react to that. He took a few minutes to clean up the worst of the mess and then went to check on the kids.

He paused when he saw only Shingo.

“Where’s your sister?”

-----

Ikuko peeled out of the driveway as if she were on her way to the hospital. And while this may not have been a medical emergency, it was more than a culinary one. Kenji had come home on time. Kenji had said he wanted to talk. Neither of her children had left the house that day.

Her plan was working. By keeping the house in order and cooking for them and doing everything else a good mother did, she was keeping them happy and keeping them with her. As long as they were with her, they were safe. And that was a mother’s duty, wasn’t it? To keep her children happy and safe.

“Mom, slow down! You’re going to kill us!”

It was part of the reason she’d agreed to let Usagi come with her. Kenji may have been turning over a new leaf, but she didn’t know if she trusted him to watch both of the kids, even one who was on crutches.

“We’ll be fine,” Ikuko insisted as she swerved around a car going the speed limit. “Stop worrying.”

“I’d love to,” Usagi hissed, clinging to the handle above the door in the passenger’s seat. “Slow down. Or better yet, stop. You don’t need the conan.”

“Cumin.”

“Whatever – the point is that it’s fine. We won’t eat that much food anyway! The fridge is already overflowing with leftovers.”

Ikuko shook her head. “Sorry, Usagi. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Ikuko took her eyes off the road for a moment, which made Usagi cling to the handle even tighter. “I have to keep you happy. I have to keep you safe.”

Usagi’s eyes softened. “Oh, Mom…” She let go with one hand and laid it on Ikuko’s shoulder. “Don’t you know already? You’ve always done that.”

A strange sensation spread through her body from where Usagi’s hand touched her. Her muscles had felt stiff and tense for the past few days, but the contact immediately began to soothe the aches in her body. She felt as though she could relax, something that had seemed impossible. She felt as if she were being enveloped by a warm, white light.

An instant later, it was gone, and the serenity was forgotten.

“Mom, watch out!”

Ikuko looked up to see someone standing in the road. She gasped and swerved her car to the right, driving directly into the lamppost. The front of the car was crushed like a soda can against the metal. Usagi and Ikuko screamed as their bodies rocketed against the seatbelts and the airbags deployed to cushion their heads.

Once it was over, Ikuko sat there, gasping for air. She wanted to cry with relief when she heard Usagi whimpering next to her. She turned her head to see if the person who had been standing in the road was all right.

But there was no one there.

-----

Mamoru had been out driving ever since he left Reika and Motoki. He would tell Luna later that he was patrolling for suspicious activity, but in reality, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit still. If he didn’t do something, he’d have to think – either about his future or how he had failed both Reika and Usagi. And he couldn’t bear that.

Later, he wouldn’t be sure if he saw the wreck or the hair first. Either way, Mamoru hit the brakes the instant he drove up alongside the crumpled car, jumping out of his car and running over to the passenger side of the car and throwing it open. His heart lurched when he saw that her eyebrow and lip were split.

“Usagi!” he shouted, laying one hand on her shoulder and held up two fingers with the other. “Are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up?”

She whimpered and shoved her face into his forearm, heaving a sob. “Get me out.”

“No, you could be hurt. How—”

“I’m fine, two, and if you don’t get me out of this car within the next thirty seconds, I am going to kill you.”

Against his better judgment, he helped Usagi out of the car, but he could tell almost immediately that she wasn’t seriously injured. She was, however, shaking like a frightened mouse. She hugged herself tightly and said, “Check on my mom.”

Mamoru hadn’t even considered looking after the driver. He began to circle around the back to help Usagi’s mother out of the car, but the woman emerged a moment later. She was sporting her own set of bruises and scrapes, but she was also extremely lucky. It was a miracle, in Mamoru’s opinion. The car looked more like an accordion.

“Mrs. Tsukino?” Mamoru called out, remembering what Usagi had said about her mother starting to crack underneath the stress her family had been going through. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll see if I can flag down some help.”

Ikuko smoothed her hands up and down the front of her apron but didn’t respond.

Mamoru decided it would be best to calm Usagi down so that she could attend to her mother. He turned to her, unsurprised to find a steady stream of tears coursing down her cheeks. Thankfully, he had something to occupy himself. “What happened?”

Usagi let out a quaking breath. “There was a man in the road. Just standing there. I swear he wasn’t there a second before…”

“Where is he now?”

Usagi just shrugged.

Mamoru reached forward and laid his palms against Usagi’s skin. He blanched at how cold she was. He quickly stripped off his leather jacket and threw it around her shoulders, rubbing her arms vigorously. “Usagi, I need you to look at me.”

She laughed through her tears. “You’re using my name.”

“Least I could do after a car crash. But, listen – I know you said your mom’s been in rough shape lately. I don’t want to leave you with her if you’re not ready to deal with it, but I need to go get help. Not many people use this road, so it could be ages before someone drives by. Can you look after her?”

The look Usagi gave him once he finished was heartbreaking. It was as if he’d asked her to murder her own puppy.

“My fault.”

His head whipped over to Usagi’s mother. She was showing obvious signs of stress. She was wringing her hands in a way that made his fingers ache in sympathy, and even in the open air, he could smell that she hadn’t washed.

“It’s my job to keep you safe,” she whispered desperately. “To keep you happy, healthy, fed, warm. I could have killed you.”

Mamoru started to feel an ache in his chest. Although he didn’t mean to, he couldn’t help but think of his own mother. She’d done those things for him once too. Six years of love and care, and he couldn’t remember a single day. Almost as if all her hard work had amounted to nothing.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Usagi whispered. “It’s all right. Don’t cry.”

He expected Ikuko to tremble; she stood as rigid as a mountain. “Supposed to keep you safe.” Her head snapped up to stare them both in the eye, and her gaze frightened him. “Supposed to keep you happy.”

All of a sudden, Mamoru doubled over, clutching his stomach, and he realized that the pain in his chest had had little to do with his nostalgic brooding. It had been the start of an all too familiar agony. His head swam in the same way, his stomach churned, and his heart felt like it was going to explode. He broke out into a cold sweat. And that’s when he knew. Usagi’s mother wasn’t giving in to too much stress and worry. She was Nephrite’s latest victim.

“Mamoru!” Usagi shouted, hovering over him. “What’s wrong?”

How much time did he have? How long would it take to get to the shrine, and would Rei be able to do anything to stop the youma before it emerged?

“Mamoru, answer me!”

It had been Nephrite in the road. It had to be. This was all too planned, too contrived for it to have been someone random who had run off rather than be admonished for such idiotic behavior. If Nephrite was intervening, then it meant that it had to be close.

“Mamoru, please!”

It didn’t matter. He had to try.

“I’m fine,” he ground out, trying to stand up. “You and your mom need to get in my car.”

Usagi blinked. “What? Why?”

“I’ll explain on the way,” he hissed. “But we have to go now.”

Usagi looked ready to protest, but once again, her mother cut her off.

“I’m a bad mother.”

Usagi spun towards her; one of her pigtails brushed against Mamoru’s arm. “No! That’s not true.”

Ikuko kept rubbing her apron, and Mamoru knew in that moment that it was the object Nephrite had cursed. “I crashed the car with you in it. I dragged Shingo to the store. Kenji barely even talks to me anymore…”

Mamoru squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. He shouldn’t be here for this. It was a private moment – maybe even too private for Usagi to hear, but there wasn’t anything he could do to fix that. He had to focus on getting them in the car and getting Mrs. Tsukino to Rei. “We have to go.”

“Mama, please don’t say things like that,” Usagi pleaded.

Ikuko shuddered and buried her hands in her hair. “I can’t keep you safe. I can’t keep any of you safe.”

Mamoru forced himself upright, grabbed Usagi’s arm, and shook her. “Usagi. Now.”

Usagi acted as though he wasn’t even there. “You’re a good mother,” she maintained. “I love you because you’re a good mother.”

Ikuko took a deep breath, and Mamoru felt his sickness get that much worse. With his stomach twisting away from him, he realized that there was nothing more he could do to prevent this. And Ikuko opened her mouth and screamed.

“You’re better off without me!”

The apron hanging off Ikuko’s body exploded with light. Usagi shrieked and started to run towards her mother, but Mamoru held her fast. Together, they watched as the vermillion light deepened, forming a red ring around her mother. Then something like a ghost rose up out of the fabric. It grinned at Ikuko like a skeleton and swept down, swallowing her whole.

“MAMA!” Usagi shouted, struggling against Mamoru’s grip.

“Stop,” he hissed, pulling her back. “There’s nothing you can do now.”

Mamoru watched with ill horror as the monster materialized next to Ikuko’s fallen body. Perhaps in another time, he might have found it amusing. But the sky blue youma wearing a tighter version of the apron holding a plethora of deadly looking kitchen utensils wasn’t the least bit funny now.

Mamoru’s mind raced. Usagi wasn’t safe here; he knew that above all else. His main priority ought to have been getting her out of the area.

But if he did that, what about everyone else? What about her mother, to begin with? Would she be as lucky as Reika, to get out scarred, but alive? Or would she wither while Mamoru was trying to deliver Usagi to safety? And then there were the innocent bystanders to consider: the drivers, the late night joggers, even the military who might arrive at any moment. He couldn’t leave that to chance.

The obvious answer was to transform right here, but he couldn’t risk it. Usagi and her family already seemed to be in more trouble than everyone else in Tokyo. He couldn’t add to their danger by revealing who he really was.

Letting go of Usagi was the hardest thing he ever had to do.

She whirled around as he ran to the car, and though he couldn’t see her, the sound of her voice crushed him. “Where are you going? Mamoru! Don’t leave me!”

He threw open the car door and jumped in before he was tempted to do as she asked. He slammed the door and keyed the ignition, the engine roaring over her plaintive cries. He saw in the mirror that she was trying to get near him to stop him, but she couldn’t move close enough on her bad leg. He turned away, shifted gears, and sped off into the night.

He dug in his pocket for his communicator and immediately contacted Rei and Ami. Thankfully, they answered in a heartbeat.

“Trouble?” Rei asked.

Mamoru felt like laughing hysterically at the question. Did she think this was a social call? “Definitely.”

“Is it like last time?” Ami queried, sounding more intrigued than wary.

“Too soon to tell. But Ami… it’s Usagi and her mother.”

Mamoru took his eyes off the road for the briefest of moments, but in that time, he watched Ami’s face shift from palpable fear to grim determination. Neither of them had done all that much right where Usagi was concerned. Ami wasn’t going to make the same mistake again, just like him. “Where?”

He told them location and after receiving their ETAs, signed off. He turned up a side street so that he could double back to Usagi and Ikuko. Mamoru swore to himself that he – or rather Tuxedo Kamen – was going to save her this time. Even at the cost of her hating him.

He swore, pounded his fists against the wheel, and sped off into the night.

-----

“MAMORU!” Usagi screamed as Mamoru’s car screeched in his hasty retreat. She couldn’t believe he’d just left her like that. She suddenly doubted that it was coincidence that he had spent the first attack on the arcade in the bathroom.

She heard the youma laugh from behind her, and Usagi spun, tripping over her own feet and losing her balance. As the monster circled around the front of the car, Usagi began to scoot backwards, desperate to get away from that horrible thing with those eyes that devoured her.

But after just a few feet, she backed into something solid – something she knew shouldn’t have been there. She tried to look over her shoulder to see what it was, but just before she moved, someone grabbed her in a chinlock, hauling her to her feet. She started to panic, thinking she was being choked, when she was shoved against what was left of the car. She stared up at this new arrival in unabashed fear, hating Mamoru for his cowardice and for not taking her with him.

The man who had grabbed her – who now looked down at her with unchecked disdain – seemed familiar somehow. He curled his lip in a sneer and said, “You’re that girl from the speech. The one who got hurt.”

Usagi didn’t recognize him from there, but she knew now where she’d seen him. “You ran us off the road,” she whispered in a tiny voice. “You did it on purpose.”

He smiled at her, patronizing. “Smart little bunny.”

“Should I peel the flesh off her bones and fry it up for dinner?” the youma asked, its voice like syrup. Usagi clamped her mouth shut to keep from retching.

“No,” Nephrite snapped. Usagi hoped he was offended by talk of hurting her at all, not just the cannibalism. “I have other uses for her.”

Usagi cried out as he reached for her, remembering her mother’s stories about dirty men on the buses and then remembering her mother. She raised her fists to try and beat him off, but he treated her blows as more irritating than painful. He reached for her, and she tried to shield her neck, but he didn’t try to choke her. Instead, he simply jabbed one gloved finger between her eyebrows. And then his hand began to glow light pink.

Usagi immediately felt as if she were getting sleepy. Her muscles began to soften, and it no longer felt as though she could lift her arms. They fell uselessly to her sides as her knees began to buckle. Finally, she shut her eyes because she was simply too tired to keep them open.

It felt like an eternity before he let her go, and she slumped to the ground.

-----

Nephrite ogled the glowing ball of rose-colored energy gathered in his hand like it was a fine diamond. He was impressed by the amount of energy in the girl. It was more than he had ever gotten from a single girl he hadn’t found by way of the stars. He couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how impressed Beryl would be with this bounty along with the mother's – not to mention how Zoisite would seethe at the praise.

“Impressive,” was all he said.

“I got plenty from the mother too,” the youma purred as Nephrite vanished the energy for the time being.

Normally, Nephrite would have been on his way, but he had no interest in Zoisite gleefully informing him of yet another failure. He had already decided he would stay and deal with the Sailor Senshi directly. Therefore, he saw no reason to keep the youma around and risk the energy collected from the mother. He was about to tell it to return to the Dark Kingdom with the bounty, when he was interrupted by a groan.

He turned, surprised. The girl who he had just drained was struggling to push herself onto her elbows. “She’s conscious?”

The youma sniffed delicately. “Either that, or you’ve turned her into one of the undead. Certainly sounds like it.”

Nephrite narrowed his eyes and began to walk forward. After what had happened with the last attack, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

However, he was interrupted by a someone flying in between him and the girl. The cloaked figure lashed out, propelling a snow white fist into his jaw, sending him reeling. Nephrite righted himself quickly, holding his bleeding jaw.

He stood face to face with Tuxedo Kamen, and while Nephrite held his unquenchable rage within, this man had it displayed on every inch of his face. When he spoke, it sounded more like a feral dog than a man. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

Nephrite just smiled. “My pleasure.”

Then he called forth his sword from the black realm he called home and charged.

-----

Tuxedo Kamen leapt away from Usagi’s body, forcing Nephrite to switch directions in a hurry. He’d been hoping to gain a tactical advantage as well as keep Usagi out of harm’s way, but he underestimated Nephrite’s agility. In spite of his bulk, Nephrite shot forward, moving and sounding like an enraged panther. He held the sword at eye level and drove forward.

Tuxedo Kamen brought up his cane to block the blow, but in a flash, the sword had vanished. Tuxedo Kamen didn’t have time to reposition himself to fend off Nephrite’s punch, and he flew back. He skidded to a stop, barely managing to regain his footing in time to soar upwards, out of the reach of three white hot energy blasts. He performed a graceful flip and landed on top of the lamppost the Tsukino’s car had smashed into. He gulped when he saw the state of the street – ripped to shreds.

He spared Usagi the briefest of glances to make sure she was all right. She was still attempting to right herself, but the youma was mercifully unconcerned with her. Apparently, it was more interested in the battle at hand.

Tuxedo Kamen quickly refocused his attention; Nephrite was advancing quickly. Then the shitennou leapt and twisted in the air. Tuxedo Kamen jumped off the lamppost and tucked his knees, somersaulting twice once he hit the ground. Meanwhile, Nephrite teleported out of the air and onto the ground, a blast charging in his hand. Tuxedo Kamen tried to take out his legs with a low reverse roundhouse, but Nephrite jumped over it, using his height as leverage to propel the blast for Tuxedo Kamen’s face. Tuxedo Kamen rolled on his side to get away. He saw smoke billowing up from the hole in the street out of the corner of his eye.

Once again, Nephrite didn’t give him time to breathe. He was on top of Tuxedo Kamen in an instant, throwing elbows instead of punches. Tuxedo Kamen did his best to block, but he didn’t anticipate when Nephrite switched his trajectory, coming at him from overhead and landing a solid hit over his left eye. Tuxedo Kamen staggered and crouched down, and though he took advantage of the position to jab at Nephrite’s ribs, he knew this was not going well for him. He could barely catch his breath.

While Tuxedo Kamen gasped for air, the sword made a sudden reappearance, and the cane came back to block. Tuxedo Kamen felt an intense sense of déjà vu as the two men locked themselves in a stalemate, their weapons forming a lop-sided cross.

Apparently, Nephrite agreed with him, as he took the time to turn to the youma, who was picking at her three-inch nails with a butcher knife. “I don’t suppose you want to be of any use?”

The youma just shrugged. “You seem to be doing fine on your own.”

Nephrite clenched his jaw, obviously perturbed. Tuxedo Kamen was expecting another comment, but instead, Nephrite spun out and then once again picked up his left leg, bending it at the knee, and then thrusting outwards, catching Tuxedo Kamen under the chin.

Tuxedo Kamen fell back, trying to correct his footwork and remain upright. But his center of gravity and that of the Earth’s seemed at cross purposes; he couldn’t regain his equilibrium. He sensed the growing light, and knew he was about to be in a world of hurt.

“SHABON SPRAY!”

The immediate area was instantly covered in thick fog; Tuxedo Kamen had to stop himself from falling to his knees in thanks. He heard the familiar sound of heels clicking against the pavement, and soon he was flanked by both Sailor Mars & Mercury. “I am so happy to see you,” he confessed earnestly.

“How’s Usagi?” Mercury asked without preamble.

“He drained her,” Tuxedo Kamen spat, wiping a dribble of blood and saliva from his chin. “And he made them crash the car, but otherwise remarkably fine.” He pointedly did not mention her emotional state or how she must have now felt about him.

“We’d better split up,” Mars commanded, amethyst eyes darting left and right, searching for movement in the fog. “They won’t—"

The devil spoken of, Nephrite came flying out of the fog, the sword in one hand and a gathering light burst in the other. The Senshi and Tuxedo Kamen immediately scattered, but when three kitchen knives sailed past him, two of them tearing his cape, he realized that the youma had joined the fight.

“You two take care of Kitchenette!” he shouted above the fray. “I’ll handle Nephrite.”

Pain bloomed at the base of his spine, and he crumbled, but not before sending a barrage of steel-tipped roses behind him. He could hear the malicious grin in Nephrite’s voice when he answered.

“As it was meant to be.”

-----

Mars snorted. “Yeah, you’ll handle him all the way into your grave if I don’t deal with this.” She brought her hands in front of her, pressed her two index fingers together, and reached for the fire that lay within her. The spark lit, and then she called out, “Fire Soul!” sending an inferno flying through the air, evaporating the fog in an instant now that they no longer needed the cover.

She saw Usagi first, and her heart sank. She didn’t particularly like the girl – anyone who took up as much of Mamoru’s time couldn’t be her best friend after all – but she didn’t dislike her either. Mars didn’t relish seeing her like this.

Then she saw Mercury and watched the pain cross her face like a river run off course. For Mars, that was much worse.

Finally, she found the youma, but only because it popped out from behind its hiding place behind the car. Mars couldn’t help but snort despite the numerous blades and weapons at its disposal. The apron it wore made it far girlier than the other youma, and therefore, harder to fear.

“Sayonara!” it laughed, pitching a number of sharp kitchen utensils Mars couldn’t hope to identify. She crouched down, prepared to fling herself out of the way, when Mercury sent forth another attack, this one concentrated. Not only did it knock them off course, but it froze them, and they dropped to the ground useless.

The monster growled in frustration and then reached into one of the breast pockets. It pulled out a small vile, emptied it into her hand, and flung it at the ground. A tiny explosion went off, not big enough to cause any real damage. All it really did was kick up a lot of red smoke. Mars rolled her eyes and started to charge forward, when she inhaled some of it and promptly launched into a coughing fit.

“What is that?” she demanded, wheezing as Mercury joined her in misfortune.

Mercury let out a particularly painful hack. “Chipotle pepper,” she choked out.

“Brilliant,” Mars growled. She gave the youma a withering look as it tittered from up above. She bared her teeth and hissed, “Enough of this. FIRE…”

The youma may have seemed empty-headed, but it knew an attack when it was coming. Its posture changed to battle ready. The demon pulled the string holding up the apron, and for a horrifying moment, Mars thought she was going to be privy to an uncomfortable amount of monstrous anatomy. However, the apron managed to stay up despite this change in attire.

Mars’s relief over this evaporated the moment the apron strings lengthened, circled her three times over, and bound her arms to her sides.

She cried out in indignation, sinking to her knees rather than falling in a more embarrassing fashion. She glanced over at Mercury and found her in a similar predicament, although she was doing her best to stay on her feet.

The youma clucked its tongue. “What’s the matter, ladies? Don’t you like me? Come closer, why don’t you!” The monster yanked them both forward, sending Mercury to the ground and dragging Mars so that her chin scraped along the asphalt.

Mars would have liked nothing more than to turn the annoying blue gnat into a finely ground pile of ash, but her position didn’t allow her to shoot the flames with any guaranteed accuracy. With her luck, she’d wind up setting one of her allies, or worse, one of the Tsukinos on fire.

“Unbelievable,” she grumbled. She tried to look over her shoulder to see how Tuxedo Kamen was faring, but he was more or less part of a black and grey blur of fists and kicks. She felt that this all was somehow amounting to nothing more than a pissing contest, which, considering her predicament, was not attractive in the slightest. “Need a little help over here!”

The only answer to her question was a star blast that hit the blacktop a mere three inches from her head.

“…Not actually what I had in mind.”

A few moments later, twin roses cut through the hair, easily severing the ropes that bound them. Mars jumped to her feet as if she’d just won the lottery. Then she went through the familiar motions faster than the monster could recall the knives so that they could be thrown again. She felt a great deal of satisfaction when she called out, “FIRE SOUL!”

-----

From her vantage point propped up against the sedan’s tire, Usagi got a full view of the monster being engulfed in Mars’s vengeful flames. She gave a weak cheer as the demon gave an inhuman howl, writhing within the orange like a shadowy specter. She was also relieved to see that her mother’s apron fluttered to the ground completely unscathed.

She would have liked to return the prized piece of clothing to her mother – as a matter of fact, she would have liked being with her mother at all – but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Her mind longed to in desperation, but her body wasn’t strong enough to obey. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when her mother didn’t seem to stir once the youma was destroyed.

With the monster dispatched, Mercury and Mars threw themselves into the battle with Nephrite. Mercury led the assault with another concentrated blast of her water, but while it managed to pull him off Tuxedo Kamen for a little while, he soon shook off the cold and redoubled his efforts to defeat them. He sent Tuxedo Kamen reeling backwards with another hard kick to the chest, and then followed up with a large blast towards Mercury. Mars looked for a moment as if she might get close enough to do some damage – though what she was planning to do with a slip of paper was beyond Usagi – but Nephrite caught her before she could react. He drove the heel of his hand into her throat, impacting her windpipe and sending her into yet another furious coughing fit.

Tuxedo Kamen and Mercury returned to the skirmish as quick as they could manage. Tuxedo Kamen sent out another handful of roses, aiming for the eyes, but Nephrite merely teleported and reappeared just ahead of the attack. Mercury was highly unsteady on her feet, but she once again tried her Shabon Spray since it had been nearly effective the first time. Nephrite caught both of her wrists with one hand and punched her in the ribs with the other. She crumpled like a marionette with the strings cut and fought to keep her food down. Taking advantage of her weakness, Nephrite aimed another of the star blasts for her and shot. Mars leapt in front of her just in time and used her own attack to block the energy. Unfortunately, it didn’t so much as stop or neutralize the attack as it did cause a mini-supernova.

Usagi shielded her eyes, digging her teeth into her lip when she heard three pained screams. When the dust settled, Usagi had to fight her tears at the sight. Mercury was clearly struggling to remain conscious. Mars had done her best to shield the other soldier from the explosion, and her back entire was an open wound. But worst of all for her was seeing Tuxedo Kamen lying on the ground, twisted and broken. He should have been standing tall and triumphant over Nephrite. But it was their enemy who towered over them all, having just barely gotten clear of the blast with that stupid teleport.

“Pathetic,” he observed in a bored tone. He was trying so hard to destroy them, but he looked as if he was being forced to make small talk at a boring dinner party. With one hand on his hip, he began sauntering over to Tuxedo Kamen. “Frankly, I don’t know why you gave Jadeite so much trouble. Apparently if he’d had the fortitude to stand against you on his own, we needn’t have lost him.”

Tuxedo Kamen tried to push himself up to his knees, but his elbows wouldn’t stay locked. She heard him gag and spit out a mouthful of blood.

Nephrite just laughed. “I am going to have a great deal of fun killing you.”

Usagi’s world threatened to collapse from beneath her. Tuxedo Kamen, the man who had saved her countless times before and again tonight, was in trouble. She wanted nothing more than for him to get up and fight back, making Nephrite eat his words, but she knew deep down this wasn’t going to happen. He was beaten. Worse, neither of his allies was in any shape to help him, and she could hardly sit around and hope Sailor V was more than just a legend while she lost Tuxedo Kamen.

She didn’t know his real name, and she didn’t know what color his eyes were, but she loved him all the same. She wouldn’t lose him before she found these things out. She wouldn’t lose him before she could ask if he could love her too.

With monumental effort, Usagi hauled herself to her feet. She circled the car as quickly as she could manage, trying not to think about the fact that Nephrite didn’t have much farther to walk and he had two good legs. She practically fell into the driver’s seat and was thankful for small favors when she saw the key was still in the ignition. She pulled the door shut and took the time to strap herself in although it took her three tries to get the buckle in the slot. Then she reached forward and turned the key.

The engine whined but didn’t turn over.

“Come on…” Usagi hissed, forcing her eyes to focus on the dashboard. “Don’t do this.” She keyed it again, but it still didn’t turn over.

She glanced up at the battlefield. Nephrite was dangerously close to Tuxedo Kamen, and his sword was in his hand. Apparently, he wanted this death to be personal.

Usagi wailed and punched the wheel. “Work now! I have to save him! All he’s ever done is save me… I can’t let him die now! Not before I know if he has blue eyes.” She keyed the ignition for the third and she knew final time. As she did, she felt something like warm coils of rope winding around her wrists. She was momentarily alarmed, but then she forgot all about it.

Because against all odds, the car roared to life.

“Yes!” she shouted, tugging at her strap to make sure it was secure. She looked through the cracked windshield, located her target, and then shifted the gears. She accidentally hit the brake first, but when she found the accelerator, she floored it.

For once, Nephrite didn’t know what was coming. He didn’t know anything was wrong until it was too late, and then he couldn’t think to do anything but stare as the headlights zoomed forward. The element of surprise had worked, and he took the hit hard. The nose of the car hit him at hip-height, and she’d managed to get enough speed so that he rolled up the windshield and over the roof of the car.

It wasn’t until she heard him land behind her car that Usagi realized what she’d just done. She’d not only gotten involved in a fight, but she’d run a man down with a car. And she didn’t even have a license.

She sat there, shaking for a minute, and then remembered why she’d gotten the courage to do this in the first place. She unbuckled her seatbelt, pushed the door open, and half hopped/half-tripped to where Tuxedo Kamen lay. He was kneeling now, gaping at her and the car. “Are you all right?” she asked quickly, brushing his cheek with her fingers before she could stop herself.

He just stared, looking as though he didn’t even understand the question. Then he reached for her slowly. Her heart pounded, wondering what he was going to do. She licked her lips without meaning to. But all he did was comb his fingers through one of her pigtails. The action was as mystifying as his tone. “You saved me.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him, although she had to admit, she sounded rather hysterical. But a moment later, he joined in, too relieved and fending off the residual adrenaline rush to do anything else.

They came to an abrupt halt when they heard the sound of metal crunching. They both turned to see Nephrite standing once again, although Usagi didn’t see how. Even she could tell he had a number of broken bones, and he seemed to be more blood than skin – green blood, she noticed. He no longer made an effort to conceal his rage. He laid it all out. Every crease on his face told the story of the revenge he now longed for more than ever, and the frustration at knowing that he would never receive it.

Mars and Mercury appeared behind him, and although Mercury had to lean on her companion’s shoulder, both of them were prepared to fire. Tuxedo Kamen got to his feet with the help of Usagi and his cane. He brandished the lacquered accessory like a sword. “You’re done, Nephrite.”

Nephrite snarled only because he knew it was true. “This isn’t over.”

“Not for as long as you’re alive,” Tuxedo Kamen said grimly.

To her surprise, Usagi didn’t reply, although she supposed if they stood there trading threats all night, they’d never actually leave. A black hole appeared underneath Nephrite’s feet, and he seemed to be sucked into it like dust in a vacuum. Usagi didn’t relax until the shadowy portal vanished. Only then would she believe he was gone.

The three warriors released a collective sigh of relief. Mercury seemed to relax so much that Mars had to work considerably harder to keep her upright.

“Are you all right?” Usagi asked gently, starting to move forward.

Mercury jerked a little, staring at her oddly. She opened and closed her mouth several times, and then made a few incoherent noises. Usagi was starting to wonder if Nephrite had somehow damaged her vocal cords, when she heard a distant groan.

Her face broke out into a painful grin. “Mama!” she whirled and hopped on one leg to where she lay. Usagi fell to the ground when she reached her side, stopping Ikuko from getting up too quickly.

“Oh, my head,” Ikuko murmured, holding it. “Did I fall…?” She opened her eyes and looked around in shock at the road. She groaned aloud when she saw the state of the sedan. “I was really hoping this was all a horrible dream.”

“Sorry,” Usagi said with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

Ikuko shook her head, and Usagi knew she was trying to hold back tears. “Shaken up, tired, upset… but I’ll be fine. Frankly, all I want to do is go home.”

The appearance of the car at the end of the street was so serendipitous that it seemed planned. When the headlines fell upon them and the wreckage that was the street, it surged forward and screeched to a halt just a few meters from them. Kenji and Shingo burst out of the car, falling to their knees just beside them. Kenji immediately wrapped his wife in the most ardent embrace Usagi had ever seen them share.

“Thank God you’re all right,” he hissed, burying his face into her hair. When you didn’t come back, we thought the worst… What happened?”

Ikuko glanced over at Usagi furtively, silently pleading with her daughter to explain. Usagi just smiled and said, “Well, isn’t it obvious? I mean, they’re standing right over—"

But when she motioned towards Tuxedo Kamen and Sailors Mars and Mercury, she discovered that they had fled. She felt her heart sink. She hadn’t even gotten to thank them, much less tell Tuxedo Kamen how she felt about him.

Shingo understood intuitively what must have happened. “You mean Tuxedo Kamen and the others were here!” He turned his face to Ikuko, revelation dawning. “That means you...”

Ikuko nodded sadly, reaching out and touching his face. “But I’m fine now. All I really want is to get home and go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning, can’t we?”

Kenji’s jaw was clenched painfully tight, but he acquiesced eagerly enough. “Yes. We have a lot to talk about in the morning.” He kissed his wife briefly, laying his forehead against hers. Usagi could tell he was steeling himself for whatever might happen next, and in that moment, she thought her father was just as good and kind as Tuxedo Kamen, despite his flaws.

“Shingo, help your sister into the car. We’ll have to get you new crutches tomorrow, Usagi. I doubt yours are in any shape to be used. But if… what you say happened actually happened, then we need to get out of here. The police will be here any minute.”

With Shingo’s help, Usagi clambered to her feet. “But won’t they know it’s our car?”

Kenji gathered Ikuko in his arms despite her protests. “They will. You let me deal with that. All right?”

Usagi felt there was something strange about his tone, but decided it was best just to go along with everything. “Okay.”

Then together, the family all piled into the sedan Kenji had borrowed and drove off into the night. As Kenji had predicted, precisely three minutes later, all kinds of government personnel and military men and women were at the scene, searching for clues and trying to ascertain what had happened on the road that night. They would later find the owners of the mangled car, and go to the Tsukino’s home to see if any of them had been involved in an altercation with the strange monsters plaguing Tokyo, if they had experienced an encounter with Tuxedo Kamen or his known associates.

But all they would find is a nice father who was quite surprised to find that his car wasn’t in the driveway.

-----

Mercury, Mars, and Tuxedo Kamen had just barely made it back to his car without being seen. Once they got there, Mercury very happily sank into the passenger’s seat and allowed her transformation to slip off her skin like cool water. Mars and Tuxedo Kamen quickly followed suit.

“I don’t have any serious injuries,” Ami said before either one of them could pester her about her health. “I used the computer to check. I’m just… in a lot of pain.”

“No kidding,” Rei muttered, her voice sounding unusually hoarse. “He really laid into you.”

Mamoru winced as he shifted his weight. “Hey, he got me pretty good before you guys got there.”

She scoffed. “Are you actually in competition with her over who got knocked around the most?”

“…No.”

“I hate to be a bother,” Ami interrupted, slumping over onto the dash. “But I’m going to need some assistance getting home.”

“Might as well drop me off too,” Rei added, already moving into the back of the car.

Mamoru shrugged. “Sounds all right to me.”

“But once you’re done, you ought to go back and see Usagi.”

Mamoru gaped at her as if she had just proposed that he switch sides, what with capes being more in line with what the Shitennou were wearing. “I can’t.”

“You should,” Ami insisted. “It’s obvious you want to.”

Rei laughed quietly. “Ami, you’re being very straightforward tonight. Did you hit your head at all?”

Ami felt her cheeks color. “I didn’t mean—"

“No, I think you’re right,” Rei soothed. She turned to Mamoru, and her usually hard face softened into something sympathetic and almost kind. Ami thought Rei seemed like an entirely different person. She liked it. “We know you had to leave her so that she didn’t figure out who you were. You should see her. Try to explain.”

Mamoru seemed even more bowled over by this attitude. “Now that I wouldn’t expect from you.”

“Me either,” Ami remarked.

Rei tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s either that, or you’re going to brood over it for the rest of your life, and I cannot even begin to tell you how tiresome that is.” She paused, tapping her finger against her chin. “Besides, I don’t really consider her competition.”

Mamoru arched an eyebrow. “Because she’s not as pretty as you are?”

Rei beamed at him. “Thank you so much for saying so! You’re sweet. But no, she’s cute. I just don’t think she’s your type.” She flung open the car door and started to climb inside. Then she stopped, frowning. “But if you don’t want to break cover, we’ve got to do something about your face.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Rei let out what could only be described as a polite guffaw and then reached into the purse she had taken to bringing to battles with her. She rummaged around and then pulled out a compact mirror, flipping it open for him.

“Oh.”

“I think she’ll wonder how the boy who ran wound up with so many bruises,” Rei teased.

“What do you propose to do about it?”

Rei replaced the compact and then pulled out what Ami was sure would amount to Mamoru’s worst nightmare: make-up. “Cover it up.”

True to her prediction, Mamoru turned ghostly white. “No.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Face transplant,” Mamoru ventured. “Ski mask. Blowing her porch light. Anything.”

Rei shook her head. “You really don’t have a choice here.”

He groaned, sounding a lot like an eleven-year-old boy being told he had to wear a suit. “Why do you even have this with you?”

Ami sighed and settled back in her seat now that the world had stopped spinning. “My mother and her grandfather might wonder just what we’re up to if we keep showing up with mysterious bruises. There’s only so many times you can walk into a door.”

“And now you have to deal with it,” Rei said brightly, grabbing his chin and pulling him under the street light. “Come on, it’s just for a few hours. You’ll practically be healed by morning.”

“I hate you both,” Mamoru proclaimed as Rei began to dab concealer over the worst of his bruises.

Ami shut her eyes, blocking out the sound of Mamoru and Rei’s bickering. The monster was defeated, Nephrite had been sent packing, and they all were alive to fight another day. She felt she was very deserving of a good nap.

-----

After dropping Ami and Rei off at their respective homes, Mamoru drove back to Usagi’s house using directions courtesy of Ami’s computer. He arrived shortly after 8:30. He hoped it wasn’t too late to stop by.

He paused, snorting. “Yes, because after everything that’s happened, etiquette should be your primary concern right now.”

Shaking his head, he inspected his face in his rear-view mirror. He had to admit, Rei had done a good job of hiding the damage. In the darkness, it was unlikely anyone would be able to tell he had been in a fight that night, and hopefully they would also be unable to tell he was wearing make-up. Having the foundation caked on his face left him feeling an unrelenting empathy for women. How they could stand to carry this around all day was beyond him.

With a sigh, Mamoru exited his car and walked through the decorative gate to the front door. He stood there for at least a full minute, trying to work up the courage to knock or ring the doorbell. He was just about to give up when it flew open, and none other than Usagi stood on the other side. She looked like a complete mess. Her buns were coming undone, her eyes were puffy and so bloodshot they seemed solid red, and her bruises were beginning to show. The violet ring around her neck in particular left him wanting to rip things apart.

He opened his mouth to speak and then realized he hadn’t thought of what to say.

Thankfully, Usagi didn’t seem to have that problem. “What are you doing here?” she demanded fiercely. “What could you possibly want to do to me after tonight? Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

Mamoru felt sick with guilt, and he had to swallow several times before he could speak. “I just wanted to explain.”

“What? That you’re a heartless coward?” she hissed. “I got the message. Good night.” She moved to slam the door in his face.

He should have left it there. He probably shouldn’t have even come there. But something possessed him to reach out and grab the door. It creaked between their opposing strength. “Why won’t you let me talk to you?”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about!” she cried softly, obviously mindful of others sleeping in the house. “My mother and I were in danger, and you ran away. I wanted to run, but I didn’t because I couldn’t abandon my mom. I know I don’t mean anything to you – I know you think I’m stupid and useless and annoying – but that doesn’t give you the right to do that!”

He felt his jaw hanging open at these accusations. He did find her irritating sometimes, and sure, he didn’t think she was a Rhodes scholar, but he hadn’t realized his opinion meant so much. He thought she’d just ignore him, but apparently, he’d made an impact that he hadn’t meant to. “I didn’t… I didn’t do what I did because of that.”

“So you admit that you’re a coward?”

Mamoru didn’t see how he could get out of this preserving his identity if he didn’t admit as much. “All right, I was scared. So scared that I ran, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Everyone gets scared,” Usagi whispered with intense feeling. “The whole city is scared. And that’s why we all need to stick together, because if you know that you’re afraid and you’re not alone, that’s when people can be brave.”

Mamoru suddenly felt intensely guilty about telling her that she was an idiot.

She paused, drumming her fingers against the doorjamb. “You remember how I said my father wasn’t spending as much time at the house? I thought he was scared and running away too, but he wasn’t. It turns out he was trying to work overtime so that we could have enough money to leave Juuban until its safe. Everyone except him has been hurt by these attacks, and I know it terrifies him. He was trying to save us.” She shut her eyes tightly, bending her head. “We won’t be able to now. We didn’t have full car insurance, so we’re going to have to spend the money on a new car. And with everything that’s happened, Dad will probably wind up cutting his hours instead of increasing them.”

She looked at him with eyes like steel wet after a winter rain. “He’s a brave man. Motoki is a brave man. Tuxedo Kamen is a brave man. You’re just… you.”

He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she slammed the door again, and this time, he didn’t stop her.



AUTHOR’S NOTES

Well, that took entirely too long. I am so sorry! 2008 was just a really horrible year for me creatively, and I’ve been so busy with other projects that I hadn’t gotten a chance to look at this one until mid-May. But, at least it’s here now, and I’m going to attempt to update this one as regularly as possibly before my (hopeful) foray into graduate school.

I hope Usagi’s unexpected badassery was satisfying for you all. xD It certainly was for me!

Not much else to say about this one! Thanks as always to my fantabulous betas, Yumeko and Dave. I do not want to think about how this story would be without you guys. And of course, to all the readers and reviewers out there: you are the wind beneath my wings. ≤3

Up next: Sailor V introduces herself to a certain caped crusader, Nephrite and Zoisite find themselves in competition, Mamoru finally decides to communicate, and absolutely no mousy-haired princess with glasses has anything to do with anything. I’m really excited about the next two chapters; I hope they turn out to be as good as they seem in my head!

Coming Soon - Part Eleven: The Mysterious Silver Crystal

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