MINAKO
June 2009. Houston, TX.
Whatever she might say about the differences between Houston and Tokyo, there was one difference which Minako could get behind--the time zone. She was always up by five AM, these days, ready to start another day. It was convenient, then, to grab the phone and catch one of her gal-pals at a time that was good for them. Case in point, six AM this morning was exactly eight PM on Usagi’s thirtieth birthday.
By comparison, time difference had been annoying in Britain as it had always been a bad time for one of them.
She flopped onto her couch, wet hair still wrapped in a towel and nothing but her underwear on, and listened to the phone ring. The other line connected, finally, and she sing-songed out the first strains of Happy Birthday before--”Minako!”
The woman blinked, halting abruptly in her salutations. “Mako-chan? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry.” The other woman sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap but...now really isn’t the time.”
“Eh?”
From the receiver she heard someone in the background call her name. A rustle passed over the line, and the voices became muffled. Minako frowned and crossed her free arm over her chest, one toe tapping against the carpet.
“Hey! Come on guys, this is expensive you know!”
“Sorry, Mina-chan,” Makoto said a moment later. “It’s just that we have a bit of a situation. Do you have your communicator handy?”
Minako glanced at the clock on her kitchen counter, then nodded. “Yeah, let me get a shirt on and dig it out of the dresser drawer. Hold on.”
She cut the line and left the phone on the couch. Dashing for the bedroom, Minako grabbed the silk work shirt she’d left out and pulled it on. Once the buttons were reasonably done up, she dug out the communicator she’d hidden away when she’d moved there six months go. They had all agreed before she left that it would be best to only use it in worst case scenarios. With the American crack down on security, especially in dealing with unlicensed foreign transmissions, no one wanted to gamble that their comm channel might be detectable. Though Ami had run some tests, she had no way to be absolutely certain it wouldn’t get them into trouble.
The last thing Minako cared to try in this life was breaking out of Guantanamo.
It buzzed just as she found it. She flipped it open and flopped chest-first onto her bed. “OK, what on Earth is going on over there?”
The communicator threw up a miniature hologram of her friends. It was amazing to see their faces again, even if six months didn’t feel like so long a time. This wasn’t the crowd of happy, brilliant women she’d left, though. Rei, Makoto, and Artemis all looked ready to kill someone. Ami’s eyes were bloodshot from crying, though now she was chewing on her bottom lip as she only did when pissed and she was trying not to show it. Usagi was moping, which meant she was also angry. Mamoru and Luna were no where to be seen.
“We were just about to call you, Minako,” Ami said, fidgeting with a box. The rest of the girls leaned away from it as she ran her finger over the clasp. “It seems that there is something which Mamoru neglected to tell us.”
Minako listened in muted horror as Ami relayed what had been going on in Japan the last month. A shiver ran down her spine as the girls recounted what they could tell of the three children they’d found. Finally, Ami opened the jewelry box.
Four, cracked stones were held within. Minako’s eyes pricked with tears as she stared; she didn’t need anyone to tell her what--or rather, who--they were.
“I still can’t believe him,” Rei hissed, so low that Minako could barely hear her. “How dare he--”
“Please!” Usagi slapped her hand on the table. They all jumped. “Stop it. I’m not happy with him either, but attacking each other isn’t going to help anything.”
Makoto put a hand to Rei’s shoulder to stop her. The priestess rose and disappeared from the hologram. Over the communicator, Minako could hear the front door slam. She shook her head. “He should have told us,” she said flatly, and they nodded with her, “But that he didn’t doesn’t really change anything. Those three are there--what about...”
Minako trailed off. Artemis looked up from her paws and she saw a tell-tale twitch of his whiskers; guilt. “Artemis. You know what this sounds like.”
“Yes,” he admitted. Makoto stared down at him and his ears sunk. “It took me a moment to make the connection.”
“Whoah.” Makoto held her hands up. “What connection? Dammit, you’re hiding shit from us, too?”
“No!” Artemis sat up straight again. He looked ready to continue, but Minako overrode him.
“It was my call,” she said and looked at Usagi. “I didn’t have enough information. Artemis and I spoke about it, and we figured it was better to wait until I got back to Japan next month--since everything has been so peaceful the past few years.”
“What happened?” Usagi whispered so lowly that Minako wasn’t entirely certain she’d really heard her.
Ignoring a surge of guilt, Minako’s eyes drifted back toward the open box of gems as she related her brief acquaintance with Keanu Nassar. At the end she hesitated, then added: “I wouldn’t have thought this connected to us at all, except that...that last phone call. He referenced Usagi--well. No. The Princess.”
Usagi looked up, then. Their eyes met, briefly, before the princess turned away again. “He referenced me.”
“I didn’t understand what he meant, then. Honestly, I’m not even sure what it means now. But with this information...I think I might have been dealing with one of them.”
“You don’t know which?”
“No.” Minako shook her head. “He didn’t display any powers, and he didn’t look--well, he’s dark, and Kunzite was dark, but that’s about where the similarities end. How do you know that you have Zoicite and Jadeite on your end?”
“Jun is kind of hard to miss,” Ami mused. “He’s Ainu, to start with. Honestly, his colouring is so rare I thought at first he might share your sort of parentage, but he looks eerily similar to what I remember of Jadeite.
“Zoe, on the other hand...I wouldn’t have known it but for some of the things she’s said. With her it’s more of a--”
“Her?” Minako blinked. “I realize you said that before, but--”
“Yes. Her.” Rei returned to the table, then, her arms folded about her chest like a shield. She retook her seat and pursed her lips. “We’re dealing with reincarnation, not resurrection.”
“Meaning?” Artemis asked, looking up at the Priestess.
“Meaning that things aren’t going to match. These are not the beings that they were previously. They may or may not share characteristics with their past selves.”
“But we...” Makoto hesitated, and Rei shook her head.
“I’m not sure what we are, to tell you the truth,” Rei said, slowly. “Setsuna and I have discussed it many times. Our return was influenced by the Ginzushou, not the natural order of things. So, too, was the return of the generals when we fought them as children. This, however...this I feel is different.”
All eyes turned to Usagi, who still stared at the table. “Mina-chan...what did he say about me?”
Minako shifted on the bed. “It doesn’t translate very well.”
“Try.”
“Fuck your princess.”
There was a silence, and then Artemis scoffed. “They share some characteristics, alright.”
