Chapter II: Insecurity: in need of a friend

“Mako-chan!” Makoto turned around to see a rather irate Queen storming towards her with Mercury close behind an amused smile on her lips.

“Yes, Majesty?” Makoto asked confused.

“Don’t give me that, I told you to rest yesterday and you were up all night weren’t you?” Makoto opened her mouth unsure whether to protest or ask how Serenity knew, but the Queen cut her off by staring into her eyes and pointing an accusing finger up at her. “And don’t give me any excuses, I can taste food you’ve prepared over Tetsuya-san’s easily. I remember when you used to cook late at night some twenty years ago and don’t you deny it.” Makoto held her hands up defensively and laughed nervously; the Queen certainly had her there. Some of Usagi’s traits just couldn’t be hidden by the grace of a queen.

“Mako-chan, what were you doing up so late last night?” Ami asked softly a smile betraying her amusement over the entire situation.

“I…I…just wanted to cook,” Makoto tried.

“At midnight?” they questioned simultaneously.

“It’s a chef’s thing, you know spontaneous inspiration,” Makoto lied and began backing away.

“Oh yeah right,” Serenity snorted with disbelief. “You listen here Makoto Kino, you were hurt and rest was prescribed so no ‘chef’s inspiration’ relieves you of that order, understand?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Makoto sighed trying not to laugh, she knew the entire situation was due to Serenity’s obsessive concern for her friends.

“Good, now I’d love for you to cook for me more often it’s been a long time,” Serenity said smiling broadly. Makoto sighed again at her Queen’s spontaneous mood change. “But for now do it during the light hours of the day, alright,” she finished sternly. “When you’re recovered you can cook all you want in the late hours of night.”

“Yes, Majesty.” Makoto couldn’t help but finally laugh. “How about I make you both some breakfast to make it up to you?”

“Sounds good.” Mercury smiled wider.

“Can’t refuse that apology,” Serenity said returning to her soft graceful tones.

Hideo woke with a start, nearly knocking the guitar from his lap. He grasped it tightly before it fell and gently set it in its case then stood up and stretched. “What a night…” He yawned just as the telephone began to ring obnoxiously. “Who’s that…?” he grumbled irritably. Hideo reached for the cellular phone sitting on the night table and pushed the ‘on’ button. “Moshi moshi…” he said, trying not to sound too tired.

“Hideo-chan! Where are you, I thought we were gonna all meet at the recording station this morning?” the voice over the phone said rapidly.

“Ah…Yoshikazu…sorry, Yo-chan, I overslept. I had a little trouble yesterday while in the city,” Hideo mumbled as he ruffled his sleep-messed hair. He stood up and headed for his closet.

“What happened?” Yoshikazu sounded very concerned. “I told you not to go alone. Were you mobbed or something?”

“No…no, actually I was in one of those rare youma attacks, but I’m okay,” Hideo replied while shifting through the racks of clothes in his closet.

“What!” Yoshikazu squeaked horrified.

“I’ll tell you all when I get there. Also, tell Kanta-chan to bring his acoustic bass, I’ve a new tune I want to try,” Hideo replied calmly and hung up the phone. He then quickly dressed into a pair of dark green shiny pants and a loose-fit black shirt. He packed up both his red electric guitar and normal acoustic guitar, slinging the electric one over his shoulder and carrying the other in one hand he walked towards the door. Taking a moment to survey his room he flipped off the light and closed the door.

“There you are Hideo-chan.” The man was taller than Hideo with long partially bleached hair. He was wearing a black casual suit with a black turtleneck underneath and he was terribly handsome. He stood beside a large, silver and black drum set, next to him a black piano. He pushed a stray streaky blond and black hair away from his pale, perfect face.

“He-chan, sorry I’m late.” Hideo set his two guitars down on the stage and then walked back to where Henge was standing. “Where is Yo-chan and Kanta-chan?” Hideo asked joining Henge where he had moved to lean against his black grand piano.

“Yo-chan went to get Kanta-chan out of bed, it appears he’s not as willing to answer his phone as you are.” Henge smiled softly. Henge was a timid guy, shy, more so than Hideo. The two were the closest of all the band members, though they were all very close. Henge, whose real name was Isamu Hayashi, and Hideo had formed their band ‘Kuranai’ some eight years ago. They were like brothers and they were the foundation of Kuranai; it was their lives.

“Was he out again last night?” Hideo asked reaching over and tapping a few keys on the piano.

“When is he not out?” Henge laughed softly. “We actually all went out last night, he had a bit too much to drink. Yo-chan’s probably reminding him of our recording today, even though we talked extensively about it last night,” Henge explained and he pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and placed it between his lips. Smoking wasn’t a habit that Hideo cared for, but Henge rarely did it and most of the time he just placed it in his mouth and never light the thing. However, this wasn’t one of those times and Henge pulled a lighter from his pocket and opened the flame, placing it at the end of the cigarette. He took a short inhale and soon after breathed it out in a small cloud of smoke.

“What about you, I thought you were going to join us last night after you were done in the city?” Henge took the cigarette from his mouth and held it between his middle and index finger at his side a small curl of smoke traveling upwards.

“I didn’t get what I needed to do done, actually, I ran into some trouble,” Hideo said slightly anxious and he looked towards Henge. Henge cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Hideo. “Can I see your cigarette, please?” Hideo wiped his hand across his forehead and blinked rapidly and nervously. He switched his weight from one foot to the other.

“If you want…” Henge said confused and handed over the cigarette. Hideo took it and breathed in some of the intoxicating smoke. “I wouldn’t…smoking is just not you,” Henge warned. Hideo started to cough, which caused Henge to laugh and he took the offered cigarette back. “I told you. Now what’s got you so worried as to try my bad habits.” He clapped his coughing friend on the back to help stop him from choking. Hideo took a deep breath of fresh air and cleaned out his lungs.

“I don’t know how you can stand to do that…” Hideo coughed. Finally getting control he stopped the awful coughing and straightened leaning back against the piano.

“Now what’s got you so shaken, Hideo-chan?” Henge asked again.

“I met someone the other day. It was so weird, like a dream.” Over the next few minutes he told every detail of his encounter with the youma and Senshi the previous day. He told Henge of his thoughts of the green Senshi, how she plagued his dreams and made him feel strange. He entrusted his friend with every single thing that had happened since the previous afternoon. When finally finished he gave a frustrated sigh, put his hands in his pocket and looked at the floor. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Maybe the only answer is the best answer. You have to see her again,” Henge offered, the entire thing seemed rather absurd to him, but if it was bothering Hideo than Henge would treat it seriously. Hideo was hardly a flighty person; he was in fact very down to earth, never day dreaming and moody like Kanta or constantly and sometimes obnoxiously gleeful like Yoshikazu. He was serious, Hideo was probably the only Rock star that actually treated his career like a career; he tended to all the other things in the band that the others didn’t want to and that didn’t pertain to writing, playing, or performing music. He only ever lost sight of reality when playing his guitar.

“I’m afraid that’s not a possibility,” Hideo sighed.

“Well, then there isn’t much you can do.” Henge put a hand on his shoulder and inhaled on his cigarette, which had pretty much burned all the way to the filter by the end of the story. “Still, just live life, for all you know you will meet her again, fate has a funny way of doing things.” Henge took a seat on the piano bench and began to play a short tune. “But I think this incident does prove that you need to travel around with some bodyguards, Hideo-chan,” Henge added seriously while he played. “Whether it be by, monster and Senshi, or young girl fans, we can’t have the leader of our band getting attacked or mobbed. You need to realize that you’re the most popular of us all so you have the least freedom. Walking down the street expecting not to be recognized is hardly likely and not very smart.” Henge tipped his head and looked up at Hideo still leaning against his piano.

“Yes, you’re right of course. I just don’t like the feeling of being worshipped, you know?” Hideo replied and turned around. Leaning his elbows on the piano top.

“Neither do I, but we love what we do, right Hideo-chan?” Henge gave him a small grin and moved into one of his more elaborate pieces of music.

“We sure do.” Hideo reached for his guitar. “I thought of a new tune last night, just a quick inclination around midnight,” Hideo said while checking the tuning on his acoustic guitar.

“Me too actually, but share yours with me first,” Henge said and brought the piece of music he’d been playing to an end.

“It’s soft,” Hideo explained and began to strum the guitar, making a nice mellow tone. He closed his eyes imagining the sounds and elaborating on them. Henge sat silently swaying his head slightly to the music and after a moment he let his fingers glide across the keys of the piano adding harmony to the melody of the guitar. It only took about two minutes for Hideo to come to the end of his short inspiration. He stopped and rested the guitar on his lap. “I don’t have very much yet, but I like it.”

“I like it as well, it certainly has potential and I’m already getting some ideas for the accompaniment,” Henge replied and rested his head on his hand.

“It sounded nice with the piano,” Hideo commented looking over.

“Actually I was thinking more with drums, though not much, I think the majority of it should be in guitar, a mix between acoustic and electric. Write down some of it for me later on and I’ll see what I can do,” Henge offered.

“Great,” Hideo grinned broadly. Henge was a master at taking the smallest, most insignificant tunes and creating entire songs from just that. He always managed to find what sounded best without changing the original idea of whoever had come up with it. “Now I want to hear what you’ve been working on, He-chan.”

“I suppose.” He then looked back towards the studio door. “I think it will have to wait though, sounds like Kanta and Yo-chan have arrived.” Hideo was going to protest that their arrival was hardly reason to keep from playing, when he too was distracted by the sounds of voices.

“I swear, you’d sleep forever Ka-chan if allowed.” Yoshikazu shook his head as he pushed open the door and walked into the studio, Kanta was close behind. Kanta, whose real name was Tenji Osama, was hardly in the mood for Yoshikazu’s good humor and his splitting headache seconded the thought.

“Shut up, Yo-chan,” he grumbled, putting a hand on his head. His normal rude manner was only intensified by the terrible hangover and he gave Yoshikazu a weak slug to the shoulder.

“Ow…don’t take your bad mood out on me,” Yoshikazu shot back and gave a playful punch to the sobered friend. The two then began to grapple in a very childish manner until they fell to the floor laughing. Meanwhile Hideo and Henge watched the entire tussle slightly amused though sighed simultaneously at the immaturity displayed by their partners.

“All right you two, we’ve got work to do,” Hideo finally stepped in arms crossed, but grinning exuberantly.

“Yes, sir.” The other two men mocked a salute and stood up, smiling. Hideo shook his head and sighed, while Henge was busily setting up the final components to his drum set on the recording stage. “Alright let’s get moving. Get this done right the first time and we can perhaps have some fun before our interview this afternoon,” Hideo offered.

“Sounds good, let’s get to it.” Yoshikazu hopped up on the stage and began adjusting the microphone to his height, which was quite a bit shorter than that of the other band members. Meanwhile Kanta had set his acoustic bass aside and was tuning his electric bass as well as plugging it into the amplifiers. Henge took a seat behind his drum set and readied his sticks. Hideo put a small listening device in his ear with a microphone attached close to his mouth. “All ready in the recording station?” he asked as a few people bustled around inside a sound proof room. He adjusted his own vocal microphone next to Yoshikazu’s and picked unwittingly at his red guitar’s strings.

“Yes, Kimura-san,” a voice finally replied and Hideo heard a few more sounds of preparation, but finally they went silent.

“Ready, everyone?” He gave a quick look to each of his band members. Yoshikazu gave him a thumbs up, Kanta grinned, and Henge merely nodded his head with a small smile. “Alright, Kuranai, here we go.” The others weren’t sure whether Hideo had been referring to his guitar, the band as a whole or the song they were about to perform, but then again it didn’t really matter since the meaning was the same in all three cases.

“Set then, ‘Kuranai’ record one. Ready in 5…4…3…2…1, go.” The recording man gave a thumbs up through the glass to signal the go to the vocalist.

“Kuranai!” Yoshikazu yelled into the mike, and the rest of the band burst into play.

Makoto had far more trouble than she could mentally tolerate with trying to get her blood out of the fine white shirt, but her persistence finally paid off in the end and the shirt came clean. After what had seemed like hours in her washroom she flopped down on the couch, after setting the shirt to dry, and for the first time in probably thirty years flipped on the television. It didn’t take her long to remember why she never watched television anymore, there was hardly anything on worth watching and more than half the programming time was commercials. She sighed and grabbed a couch pillow from behind her and propped it up against the arm of the couch. After situating it and herself for a few moments she lay down comfortably and stared not too interestedly at the flashing screen. Makoto couldn’t think of a day where she hadn’t been doing some sort of work, but after breakfast the Queen had reverted to her concerned role and as she put it “given Makoto the day off”. Makoto was bored beyond believe, but it did feel good for once to just relax and try to let all today’s worries slip into her tomorrow’s self. One such worry, the one that had been distracting her for the past two days, and gotten her in trouble with the Queen, was just about slipping away when a name on the television caught her attention. She opened her half-closed eyes, but didn’t move and focused on the television.

“Today we have with us a band that has reigned supreme on the charts and in the hearts of millions of Japanese teens for nearly nine years. Even internationally to as far as the United States they’ve gained an unparalleled popularity. You undoubtedly know who we are talking about, the ‘Crimson Wave’ has touched just about everyone, and today’s guests are Kimura, Hideo-san and his band ‘Kuranai’.” There was a large applause from the audience as a red haired man wearing sunglasses, followed by three other men walked onto the show and was introduced by the announcer.

“Kami-sama, you’re not being nice to me…” Makoto sighed and put a hand on her forehead grumbling inaudibly. She’d seen just about as much as she could take of Kimura, Hideo. He’d been on her mind ever since she’d saved him yesterday morning and it had not been pleasant to be constantly having his image in her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him; he had in fact seemed like a really nice person for the short time they’d encountered. He was certainly nothing like her set image of a rock star, but the fact that he was always on her mind and there didn’t seem to be a moment where she wasn’t thinking of him, to Makoto, was frightening in a way. No one had ever had that effect on her before, not really.

“…Starting at age 22, with Hayashi-san or better know as Henge…” Makoto didn’t move, she neither wanted to turn the television off or keep it on, so she just lay on her couch half listening for a while as the host rambled off background information about the band before actually beginning the on stage interview. She gave a sigh and finally turned back.

“Hideo-san, what about yesterday, rumor is that you may have ran into some trouble?” Hideo winced mentally he had been hoping the media wouldn’t find about the previous day’s incident. The host and other band members looked intently at Hideo eager as well for an answer. Henge had been right, there was no way Hideo could go out and not be noticed. “Something about the frequent youma attacks?”

“Ah…” Hideo thought a moment. “I was caught in that attack, but I was hardly in danger,” he lied and leaned back in his chair.

“Really? That’ll make your fans happy. It wasn’t dangerous at all? What did you see?” the host pressed.

“I didn’t stand around to become a victim so I really don’t know,” Hideo diverted.

“Well let’s hope that neither you nor any of your band members are caught in that situation again,” the host said seriously and then moved on. “Moving on, care to share anything about your much awaited new album?” the host inquired.

“Oh…I uh don’t want to spoil anything for our fans,” Hideo smiled.

“It’s gonna be good,” Yoshikazu said exuberantly, hardly able to contain his excitement.

“So you’re pleased with it, Yoshikazu-san?” The host turned to the vocalist.

“Yes, I think it’s one of our best we’ve worked very hard on it, though He-chan can’t ever be satisfied with anything.” He gave a playful nudge to the pianist.

“Care to explain, Henge-san.”

“It could be better,” Henge replied softly.

“See! See! Can’t be satisfied with anything.” Yoshikazu pointed at his soft-spoken friend. “We could make a perfect recording, first time around, a once in a life time recording and he’ll find some thing, anything to complain about.”

“I hardly complain, I more comment and attempt to make better. Unlike Yo-chan who is satisfied with something sounding just slightly better than static.” Henge lifted his soft features in a crooked smile. Hideo laughed along with the audience and the host.

“I have more taste than that,” Yoshikazu snorted. “I know when something is good.” Henge merely smiled wider and crossed his arms. Yoshikazu eyed him warily.

“How about you, Kanta-san? What is your opinion of the latest ‘Kuranai’ album?” The host turned away from the two bickering members and looked towards their moody bass guitarist.

“Well, between Hideo-chan complaining it needs more emotion and He-chan fixing every misplaced string or key, I feel we’ve made one of our best recordings yet.” Kanta allowed a smile, which was rare for his television interviews. He didn’t like talking with reporters, or television hosts, he closed up while on camera acting very reserved while allowing the others to answer the questions. The only time he’d open up in front of an audience would be in live performances.

“So you share Yoshikazu-san’s point of view?”

“Yes”

“And lastly, you Hideo-san, what is your opinion?”

“I like it, it took a lot of effort on all of our parts to make it the very best we could. The feeling after finally finishing it was like a happy sigh of relief for all of us. Up until this point our albums have come out like a spur of the moment thing, we really wanted to spend a lot of time on this. It’s hard to explain, but this one is different.” Hideo shook his head and smiled trying to think of a way to explain it.

“What Hideo-chan is trying to say,” Henge came to the rescue, “is that since it has been about three years since we’ve brought out an album it’s given us a lot of time to think of what we wanted in it. Our previous records have had our heart and soul in them, but with this one we wish to project that heart and soul. Hopefully it will show the world what makes us ‘Kuranai’,” Henge finished with a smile and looked towards Hideo to see if his explanation had been satisfactory. Hideo gave him a soft clap on the back, his eyes shining with gratitude.

“Well that certainly will increase the excitement of your fans,” the host said. He was smiling broadly, he also seemed eager to see what their new album would hold. “Will performing one of your new songs give to much away?” he asked hopefully and the audience roared in agreement.

“Umm…” Hideo looked at his band, “What do you guys think?”

“Let’s,” Yoshikazu said eagerly.

“Why not,” Kanta added. They all looked to Henge, who was the most reluctant to give any of their newest hits away.

“Alright, but not ‘Kuranai’,” he finally agreed and stood up and joined the others by their instruments, which were set up to the left of the stage.

“Alright, everyone, special guest ‘Kuranai’!” the host said excitedly.

Makoto listened to half of the song, but though it was quite appealing and as they said had a lot of ‘heart and soul’, she just couldn’t watch anymore and turned off the television. She had been slightly confused as to why the rock star had lied about his brush with death the previous day. She didn’t dwell on it too long; it did make sense, for someone that famous, a near death experience could cause a terrible uproar. Not to mention this specific event could’ve drawn a lot of attention to the Sailor Senshi, as far as mortals were concerned the Senshi were still legends, un-exposable. If the fact that one of them was hurt got out, it could have irreversible consequences, from news reports to every human in the city watching the palace. She then wondered if perhaps he knew that…Makoto shook her head and stood up. She was really sick of thinking of him; it was time to get back to work before she went insane.

“Makoto?” Serenity said softly. Sailor Jupiter raised her head and looked at her queen through almost cold, unrevealing eyes.

“Yes, your Majesty?” she asked calmly.

“What’s wrong?” Serenity asked.

“Nothing, Majesty, why?” Jupiter replied without shifting her gaze or tone.

“I…you just seem…” Serenity was at a loss for words and laughed slightly. She wasn’t sure whether her Jupiter was back to her normal self and the sudden change to seriousness was very startling. “Why do you want to leave for the Americas so soon?”

“The tension there is bothering me. I think it would be best if I started negotiations as soon as possible,” Makoto replied looking over some notes on a notepad. “They are constantly bickering with France, I fear conflict between them over Germany. You think they would’ve learned from the first three World Wars.” Makoto read off some more reason as to why the trip was important, however the Queen was too busy analyzing her friend’s behavior to hear it all.

“It seems the tension here, is what is bothering you, Mako-chan,” Serenity thought, resting her chin on her hand as she speculated. “Maybe this could serve as a vacation time for you, relax you some? You certainly need it, but maybe it’s better for you to be here where we can help you? What is wrong with my soldier? It’s like ever since yesterday you’ve become determined not to express your feelings. Not that Makoto doesn’t normally do that, but that is usually only as Sailor Jupiter, now it is obvious she is hiding something.” Serenity was so deep in thought she didn’t hear being called.

“Majesty?” Jupiter said louder and snapped Serenity out of her trance.

“Oh, sorry, Mako-chan. I was just thinking about what you said,” she half lied, she had been thinking about it in a sense. “If you feel it is truly necessary then you have permission to leave for America,” Serenity finished hoping she’d made the right choice.

“Thank you, Majesty.” Makoto bowed.

“But one thing, I don’t want you staying more than a week. As far as I am concerned America and France are potentially belligerent nations right now. The fact that you are the International Security General puts you in more danger than it keeps you out of. I want you home unless it is absolutely necessary for you to stay, alright?” Serenity said in a no nonsense tone of voice. Makoto wouldn’t dare to protest; though she had been hoping for two weeks, she knew this tone of voice. Serenity was the nicest and kindest person in the universe, but she knew when people were hiding their problems especially her Senshi’s. She would set guidelines to keep them safe, even if they didn’t think they needed it. Any diversion or protest of these guidelines could cause Serenity to cancel the trip altogether. Serenity did what she thought was best and she was usually right.

“Yes, your Majesty,” Jupiter replied and walked from the throne room.

“You be careful…” Serenity whispered after her and sighed shaking her head frustrated.

America was boring as far as Henge was concerned as he walked down the street dressed in nice, but not flashy, attire. His dirty blond hair pulled in back of him and his thin sunglasses resting gently on his nose. He suddenly regretted insisting the others didn’t have to come and that he could take care of the American branch of their recording station himself. He could take care of the meeting himself, but the rest of the time he was by himself and his return ticket kept him there for a week. He sighed, at least in America he had less chance of being recognized and mobbed, though mugged was a different matter. Another reason Henge didn’t like America, especially New York, the crime rate was extremely high and barely anyone was safe. In this city bodyguards would cause more problems than they were worth, it posed a challenge to criminals. He stopped in front of the recording station and looked up. The building was huge, but not nearly as big as the station in Tokyo. He gave another sigh and stepped inside. He knew why he usually left this sort of thing to Hideo. It was likely to be a long meeting…

Makoto found plenty of things to occupy her time, however they didn’t relax her at all. She wasn’t in a mood to be relaxed anyway. To top it all off her meetings with the French and American representative were extremely tedious. Both men were obnoxiously pompous, irritating and more than often Makoto had to threaten them with sanctions if they didn’t settle the testosterone down. She could not stand them, so determined to destroy each other, why was it only Japan knew the meaning of harmony. It also required her to speak in English, which she was fluent in, but didn’t care for much; luckily there was a French translator. After the day’s meeting, which literally took the day, Makoto made her way down the darkening streets of New York, tired and hungry, but most of all frustrated.

“What the hell am I doing here?” she mumbled quietly to herself. Serenity was right, she didn’t need to stay here more than a week, no ground was being made on the French American conflict. Until someone got enough guts to do something the tension would stay where is was and Makoto couldn’t, with all her power, do a blasted thing about it. She sighed and looked up from the sidewalk she was walking on, squinting in the setting sun. She suddenly stopped, but quickly resumed shaking her head. It must just be her imagination…

It was quickly getting dark as Henge made his way out of the tall record building. He couldn’t stand those legal know-it-alls, not to mention he had to speak English, which wasn’t his strongest subject. That was another reason Hideo usually dealt with the obnoxious agents. It was getting chilly as he started down the street and he folded up the collar of his black trench coat. He didn’t like being out at this time and an apprehensive feeling crawled up his spine. Henge’s eyes darted back and fourth and shadows moved, both imaginary and real, unfortunately he couldn’t tell the difference. One came at him and he determined its reality.

“Give us your money, man.” A rather short, compared to Henge, punk with a half-shaved head flipped out a butterfly knife and pointed it in Henge’s face. Henge held up his hands, but remained silent and calm. “Come on, give us what you got or you’re dead.” There was another punk off to the side looking back and fourth for trouble. Henge moved his hands slowly towards his pocket to retrieve his wallet. Just what he needed, to get mugged. He decided right there that this was his last trip to America.

“Hurt that man and you’ll create several thousand enemies,” a cool feminine voice said in English. It came from behind Henge. The punk shook nervously and flicked his knife off to the side to point it at the half-shadowed figure behind Henge.

“Who the fuck are you?” he bit angrily, but the knife shook in his hands. Henge felt sweat run down his forehead, he wasn’t sure if the situation had gotten better or worse.

“Yeah!” The other punk moved beside his cohort. Gaining a little more confidence the punk stepped forward until he was just in front of Henge staring behind him.

“Get lost or you’re gonna get hurt, lady!” He made a movement to thrust his knife forward, but in a blur and click he found a gun barrel a centimeter from his nose. Henge shifted his eyes to the side and saw a gun next to his head held by a thin hand pointing it at the punk that had threatened him.

“Let me make myself clear, harm this man and you will regret it,” the feminine voice said icily. The punk shuddered in fear and the knife clanged to the ground. His partner broke into a run and was out of sight in moments leaving his friend at gunpoint.

“Please don’t kill me!” he pleaded shaking uncontrollably.

“Apologize and get out of here,” the voice replied hard.

“S..ss..sorry, sir!” he squeaked terrified.

“Now go,” she commanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” He bolted for an alley and was gone. Henge stood there frozen in fear, but dared move his eyes when the gun was pulled away from his head.

“It’s dangerous to travel so late, Henge-san,” the woman said this time in Japanese. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” she continued noticing his fear.

“You speak Japanese,” Henge said quietly. “And you know who I am.” He dared to turn around and came face to face with a fine looking woman in a black business suit with a short skirt. She was replacing the gun in a holster under her left arm that circled around her shoulder.

“Yes, Henge-san, there are few in Japan that don’t know who you are.” The woman smiled faintly. “In fact I saw your interview just a few days ago, I don’t think I would’ve recognized you had it not been for that.”

“Do you normally carry a gun?” he asked warily, looking from her face to the large gun.

“Only when I work,” she replied.

“Who are you?” Henge finally asked. “For some reason I think I’ve seen you before.”

“Perhaps my name will help. I am Kino, Makoto International Security General to the Queen of Crystal Tokyo,” she replied buttoning the jacket of her suit to conceal the gun once more. Henge opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t believe he had been saved by with the woman that literally kept the world at peace.

“You are the General?” he stuttered.

“Yes.” She nodded her head. “I’m here in America to deal with the growing crisis. I’m surprised to see you here though. The States are hardly the place for a vacation anymore especially for someone of your standing,” she explained.

“Actually I’m here on business as well,” Henge replied and started to follow Makoto towards the main street.

“May I walk you to your hotel, we can talk on the way?” Makoto offered.

“I would feel much safer if you did.” Henge laughed nervously and picked up his pace to match the mysterious woman’s.

“I thought your band leader dealt with all the economic contracts of your group, Kimura-san I believe?” Makoto asked as they started down the street the wind picking up behind them.

“Normally he does, but being generous me I volunteered to come so Hideo could take care of public relations for our new album,” Henge explained.

“It’s very popular, right?” Makoto inquired not extremely interested, but glad for the company all the same.

“Yes, number one,” Henge sighed.

“On your interview you said it could’ve been better,” Makoto pressed.

“Well, Yo-chan is usually right, I do often nit-pick.” Henge laughed and put his hands in the pockets of his coat. Makoto didn’t reply, but continued on as if in deep thought. Henge watched her for a moment, trying to place her and figure her out. He’d seen her from time to time of the news answering questions about international affaires, but had never really seen her as anything more than another political figurehead. He was ashamed. She had been like a machine to him not a feeling human being, but now, in person, she was chilled by the wind just like everyone else, blood flowed through her veins otherwise she would not have lifted a finger to help him or be walking with him now.

“Do you ever have need of your gun?” he asked slightly timid and looked over at her. Makoto smiled and put a hand on her shoulder where the holster was strapped.

“You mean have I ever killed anyone?” Henge flushed slightly and turned back to the road. “Fortunately in all my years, and I have been General for quite some time, I have never had to kill anyone with this gun. I don’t like guns, in fact I wouldn’t carry it if the Queen didn’t require it, but it is necessary. My job is dangerous despite what you think.” She shook her head with a slight smile on her lips. “Where as the diplomats I deal with come guarded and influenced by different groups, such as Mafia or gangs, I come only on my own, without guards, they would only complicate my job and their lives would be at risk too. I’ve been shot at, stabbed at, and punched at. They’ve tried just about everything, but I have managed to defend myself without taking a life. I take precautions that is why I am still alive,” Makoto explained. Henge nodded his head in understanding.

“Will you join me for dinner, Kino-san?” he finally asked. “I would like to talk more with you.” Makoto stopped and regarded him for a moment. He was terribly handsome and extremely soft spoken and polite. She wasn’t exactly attracted to him, but it was a pleasure to be in his company. He was the sort of man a woman could have as a close friend without being more than that.

“Yes, I would like that, Henge-san, and please call me Makoto,” she said finally and smiled.

“Thank you, and my name is Isamu. Perhaps this week won’t be as boring as I thought,” he replied and together they searched for a decent restaurant.

“Do you like American food, Isamu-san?” Makoto asked after about half an hour of searching for a restaurant.

“Umm…well…not really, Makoto-san,” he laughed.

“Good, neither do I. I’ll make something for us. We can go to my place,” Makoto determined.

“You cook?” Henge asked slightly surprised.

“Of course, politics are hardly my first love, in truth I had a wish to become a chef if I didn’t get married, but neither happened. I cook pretty much freelance now,” Makoto explained.

“You gave up your true love?” Henge asked.

“I never fell in love so I never got married like I wanted to. Being so close to the Queen it was inevitable that I would have the obligation to a political position. She wouldn’t have made me do this job, but I had nothing else and I do enjoy it at times.” Makoto put the key into the door and opened it to her rented apartment. “Come in.” She stepped aside and invited Henge into her temporary apartment.

“You’re young, you could still get married,” Henge tried, unsure why Makoto seemed so determined that her dreams couldn’t be fulfilled. He looked around the nice apartment and Makoto moved towards the kitchen.

“I guarantee you I’m older than you think, Isamu-san.” Makoto smiled as she took off her suit jacket and her gun. “Sit down in the dining room and I’ll make us something,” she added. “Perhaps if you get to know me better, you’ll one day find out just how old I am.” Makoto laughed mentally. Henge took a seat at the table and looked around and listened to the sounds of the woman preparing in the kitchen. It had been a strange meeting, how she had saved his life one moment and the next he was sitting in her apartment having her prepare him a meal. He looked over the table, there were a few items spread about it. Several papers with political significance, some pens, but one thing caught his eye. It was a photograph, half covered by a sheet of paper. He reached for it sliding it timidly from beneath the sheet of paper. By the feel of it, the picture was extremely old. Henge examined it for a few moments. In the picture were five women, one was undoubtedly the woman he had met that evening, looking the same age as she did now. The others were women of similar age, one with long raven black hair, one with short blue hair, and one with long blond hair. In the center of them all was a graceful woman with white hair, tied up in a strange hairstyle that resembled two dumplings on top of her head that then fell back down in two long pigtails. All of the women were well figured, strong looking, and very much happy in the picture. Henge smiled, it was a cute picture, one that must certainly hold lots of memories. He casually flipped it over to see if anything was on the back. At the top were names: Usagi-chan, Ami-chan, Rei-chan, Mako-chan, and Minako-chan. He looked at the bottom were the date was scribbled and he nearly dropped the photo. He heard a clank in the kitchen and hastily replaced the picture under a pile of papers.

“It’s not possible,” he thought to himself, but after a moment could no longer deny what he had seen. “It said May 12, 2001, for crying out loud, that’s almost two thousand years ago!” Henge looked towards the kitchen thinking hard. “It can’t be… Who is she? What is she?” His mind raced unsure of what to believe anymore. There were rumors about the Queen and the closest members of her court, but they were rumors. It couldn’t be true…

“Now I understand why you said you’re older than I think you are…” he murmured softly. He calmed himself. There wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. For all he knew she was a normal human…except over two thousand years older than she should be. He just sat and waited, thinking until she came out with some great smelling food.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologized. “I’m normally not this disorganized, but I’ve had a lot to do these past few days.” She quickly collected the papers and stacked them, putting them into her briefcase on the floor. Henge watched carefully when she came across the picture, but as far as he could tell she didn’t seem worried about its presence. In fact she left it exposed for several seconds, before shoveling it into the briefcase with the rest of the papers.

“It must mean something else…” he thought. It was the only legitimate explanation.

“Hey, you awake?” Makoto waved a hand in front of Henge’s face noticing his spacey look.

“Oh yeah, just thinking,” he replied with a smile. She suddenly seemed very different to him, nothing like the cold hard woman he had met on the street. She obviously belonged in the home and by the looks of it cooking was definitely her forte. She served him some of what she had prepared then fixed herself something and they both ate.

“It has been so long since I’ve cooked for company other than my friends.” Makoto smiled. “It’s been a very long time.”

“I’ll bet it has…” Henge mumbled inaudibly, still unsure of what the picture said. “You’re friends live in Japan?” he continued louder.

“Practically next door to me. We all have professions that deal with the Queen so we are very close. I do the most traveling of all, sometimes when affairs get really hectic I can be gone for a year or more at a time. The others deal mainly in Japan, though their jobs are no easier than mine,” Makoto explained through bites. “Here, this is what they look like, you may recognize some of them.” Makoto reached over and pulled out the picture Henge had been looking at before. He accepted the picture wondering why she was showing it to him. He became more certain that the date must’ve been wrong; there wasn’t any other explanation.

“I recognize her.” He pointed to the shorthaired woman. “Mizuno, Ami? She’s a famous scientist and professor in Japan.” Henge was surprised that he hadn’t recognized the genius the first time. “And her, Hino, Rei, deals with religious affairs of state right?” Makoto nodded both times.

“I see you’re versed in not only the political world, but the religious and science fields as well. You’re more than you seem, Isamu-san.” Makoto smiled.

“As are you,” he thought and looked back at the picture. “I unfortunately don’t recognize anyone else other than you.” He stared intently at the two remaining women.

“Well her name is Minako, but unfortunately I can’t tell you anymore than that about her. Her job is extremely secret and a matter of world security, more so than mine.” Makoto knew that she couldn’t tell even this seemingly trustworthy man of Minako’s job. Minako’s job as regulator and monitor of magic and evil on the planet was very difficult, it required careful watch of almost all beings on Earth, which was nearly impossible thus making her job extremely hard. “As for the other one…” Makoto paused thinking a moment as if deciding. “I suppose I can tell you, though I warn you not to tell anyone else. Even if you did it wouldn’t do much since you’d never be able to recognize her again.” Henge gave her a curious look. “You’ll understand in moment. You see this is the Queen of Crystal Tokyo, but younger.” Henge’s mouth dropped open and Makoto smiled.

“But no one’s ever seen the Queen,” he said startled.

“She goes out in public every few years, but you’re right she hasn’t been seen by the public for quite some time. Only those members of her court see her,” Makoto explained.

“You must all be very close,” Henge replied staring intently now at everyone in the picture.

“They are much like the family that I never had.” He looked up at this and saw her quietly eating. He decided to let it be. He hardly knew this woman and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know too much.

“Friends are good to have,” he replied trying to lighten the atmosphere. “When you don’t have a family I mean.” Henge returned the picture to her and worked on his own meal. “I guess the band is much like that to me. Though it may not always seem like it, it is hardly money that keeps us together. We very much care for one another. Hideo-chan, he’s like the heart of it all. My very best friend,” Henge sighed.

“He’s very caring of others…” Makoto said. Henge looked at her, but she didn’t seem phased by this. She hadn’t meant it as a question, but said it as if she’d met Hideo herself. Henge was getting edgy. Something about this woman puzzled him. She wasn’t normal and he couldn’t tell whether or not her mysterious words were meant to be said or just by accident. He wasn’t sure if she realized what she was giving away to him.

“Have you met him?” he asked dying of curiosity. “You say that as if you’ve met him.” Makoto looked up and smiled. Henge figured she knew what she was doing, and if the truth about her age was correct than she knew just how to deal with mortals. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t realize he knew more about her than she thought or maybe she did. That is if he was right…

“Not really, he just seems very emotional,” Makoto replied going back to her meal.

“Well that wasn’t a complete denial, if you’re who I think you are all this would make a lot more sense and would also explain how you know Hideo-chan,” Henge thought. He mentally cleared his head. “What am I doing? Why am I here in the first place and who am I to speculate who this woman is? She’s an important political figure…there is just no way. I must be wrong.” Henge was so unsure of himself now. Nothing seemed right. He took a mental deep breath and returned to the real world. “He is very emotional. I think that is why we’re such good friends. I’m very quiet on my own, I don’t show much of myself if you know what I mean,” he said out loud.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Makoto replied passively. “I take it that Kimura-san brings out the best in you?”

“Not only me, but the other band members as well. We’re like a family and Hideo makes our job worth so much more than just money. He’s passionate and thoughtful. Not mysterious, like me I suppose, or overly joyful like Yo-chan; and definitely never moody like Ka-chan. He’s just…Hideo I guess. He can’t really be described other than ‘normal’ in a unique sense.” Makoto laughed softly.

“I think I understand,” she mused. “One of my friends is very much like that. She gives her care and love wherever and to whomever she meets and asks nothing in return. Even those who are her enemies and would try to hurt her, she offers her love to. She is totally open, no underlying image or dark secret will she keep. Everything that there is about her is open for the world to see.” Makoto sighed and leaned back in her chair. “When I first met her I thought this to be a weakness because if you reveal everything about yourself then you can be hurt, but I was wrong. I cannot live like she does though, I suppose it’s just not in my nature to trust and love all, but I figure as long there are the few who can then I can be the one to protect them.” Makoto stared off as if thinking a mixture of pains and pleasures. Henge studied her face trying to see what she so deeply hid.

“Why are you being so open with me then, Makoto-san?” he asked watching her profile. This turned Makoto towards him a slight smile on her lips. She watched him for few seconds with sparkling green eyes.

“I don’t really know, Isamu-san. I just met you, barely know you, shouldn’t even trust you, and yet I’m telling you some of my deepest feelings. I’m almost giving away secrets that could destroy me and the ones I love. Why am I telling you this?” Makoto asked she sounded slightly desperate and sad. Henge wasn’t sure what to say. He felt a split second’s worth of fear that since she’d told him so much his life might be in danger, but he somehow knew that she would never hurt him. Fighting for innocence was in her nature; she would not raise a hand against the innocent.

“Maybe sometimes we all need a friend who’s not friend. Someone who does not know you well enough so as to think they know you well enough to assume what you’re feeling. Maybe you needed someone who would just listen.” Henge smiled softly and Makoto laughed.

“Perhaps, but you had a very confusing way of putting it.” She laughed and relaxed back into her chair. “Thank you for listening.” Henge smiled wider at this, he was beginning to feel much more comfortable around Makoto. The ideas and fears that had been plaguing his mind after seeing the picture were irrelevant now. He was simply happy to see her happy.

The week went by much quicker than either Makoto or Henge had hoped; though its end brought a certain amount of reluctance to be no longer meeting one another. They had enjoyed each others company four out of the seven days they were there, but Henge had to leave one day earlier than Makoto, which brought their brief engagement to an end. Nothing more than friendship had formed between them. There was nothing more needed than that.

“You know I never did thank you for saving me last Monday, Makoto-san,” Henge said as they stood in the airport.

“It was my pleasure, Isamu-san,” Makoto replied with a wink and grin. “Just I recommend that you and your band stay home from now on. Either that or call me and I’ll be your bodyguard.”

“I’ll hold you to that offer,” Henge laughed. “Will you be returning to Japan soon. I hope that we can still be friends and meet from time to time?”

“I’ve been ordered to return tomorrow and yes, I think we’ll be able to see more of one another. Perhaps in a friendlier nation?” Makoto replied.

“Well, here, so that you can at least see the rest of the band.” He handed her a ticket.

“What’s this?” she asked as she studied the ticket.

“I know our music isn’t the most appealing to adults, but I would be honored if you’d come to our next concert, Makoto-san,” Henge asked.

“I will, I would love too, thank you,” Makoto replied eyes shining. “Just be warned you may not recognize me. It’s just as hard for me to go to public events, especially in Japan, as it is for you.”

“I understand, I’ll be watching though.” Henge smiled. The loud speaker called a flight number. “That’s mine, Makoto-san.” Makoto nodded.

“It’s been an honor, Henge-san.” They bowed politely to one another.

“As it has been with you, Makoto-san, please return quickly and safely to Japan,” Henge replied and placed his sunglasses ever his eyes.

“I will.” Makoto did the same with her glasses and the two parted to go their separate ways, but looking forward to the next time they would meet.

On return to Japan Makoto was bombarded with problems from every side. New ones and old ones came at her the moment she returned to the palace. Reviews of the America meetings, trouble in some third-world country, safe travel for certain diplomats; it was almost too much for her to bear. Her own personal problems didn’t help and she found almost no time to sit down with her friends to ease some of her stress. Though she could’ve gotten away with it, Makoto wouldn’t neglect her duties and thus made her situation worse. It was a particularly tense time in the world and it frustrated her. She just couldn’t seem to find a way to deal with everything all at once. Whether or not the others had noticed her sudden high-strung moods after returning from America didn’t make any difference. There was nothing they could do. The America trip, though fun in some aspects, had only allowed things to pile up back home.

“Damn!” Makoto struck the table hard with her fist. She let it rest there a moment feeling the slight sting and burning in the muscle of her palm. It didn’t make her feel any better. The entire day had been a disaster. She sighed and stepped away from the table surveying the damage she’d done to it. The wood had splintered slightly and she sighed again. “Stupid…” she murmured, irritated at herself. “What the hell did you do that for...?” After two thousand years Makoto figured she’d know how to control all her emotions, however anger always seemed to be difficult to keep inside. Turning sharply away from the table she went to her couch and slumped down on it, her mood black and miserable. She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling, thinking of the most abstract ways to make life a little more bearable and worthwhile. This was silly of course because her life was good and her job important, but sometimes…just sometimes it was a little too much to handle even for her. “I miss fighting youma…” she whispered softly to herself. There were hardly any youma attacks in the thirtieth century, which should be considered a blessed thing, however Makoto missed being Sailor Jupiter. “At least I knew who the bad guy was.” Her hand brushed something softer than her couch and she lifted her head, her neck slightly stiff from being bent so awkwardly. Looking over her eyes fell on the white silk shirt neatly folded and ironed. She picked it up and set it in her lap studying it carefully, while stroking it feeling its softness. If was definitely a custom made shirt, and expensive by the feel of it. Something occurred to her as she lost herself in the softness of the material, something so immature and childish that she wouldn’t have even contemplated doing it even in junior high. Even still, in her mentally distressed situation it seemed like the logical thing to do. She stood up still holding the shirt and headed for the door. “If you’re mind’s confused listen to your heart.” A grin spread across Makoto’s face as the words reminded her of when she’d done crazy things on the spur of the moment. She suddenly wondered what had happened to the carefree flippant Makoto that she used to be.

“So He-chan, what did you think of America?” Hideo asked with a grin. Henge pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth before answering. He took a moment to light it and inhale.

“I didn’t mind it too bad. I actually had pretty good time there, except for the first day of course,” Henge said carelessly.

“Why? What happened the first day?” Hideo asked curiously flopping down in to his easy chair. Henge was leaning casually against the back of Hideo’s couch. “Well first I had to attend these extremely boring meetings, which you normally deal with and then on my way back to my hotel some American punk jumps out with a knife and tries to mug me.” Henge inhaled in cigarette and seemed unaffected by the words he’d just spoken.

“What?! You were mugged? Are you alright?” Hideo stood up abruptly and started towards him.

“I’m standing before you aren’t I?” Henge smiled at his friend’s concern. “I actually was quite lucky.” Henge held his friend in suspense.

“Well what happened?” Hideo asked impatiently.

“I was saved by a woman,” Henge replied.

“A woman?” Hideo sounded doubtful, the whole situation sounded awkward.

“Not just any woman, but The International Security General, Kino Makoto.” Henge smiled as Hideo’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “It’s a good thing she recognized me and carries a gun, though I think she could take out about twenty guys with her bare hands. She doesn’t look like it, but she’s incredibly strong.” Hideo opened and closed his mouth without making any noise.

“The General?” he finally managed. “Like the one on television?”

“That’s her.” Henge couldn’t help, but laugh softly.

“You met her?” Hideo stuttered.

“She saved my life, Hideo-chan, and then we had dinner together.” Hideo gave an exasperated sigh and slumped back into the chair. “She’s an extremely friendly as well as emotional person, nothing like I would’ve expected, however very secretive,” Henge explained.

“You had dinner with her?” Hideo questioned weakly.

“Yes, it seems both of us were on rather boring trips and we attempted to make it more enjoyable by sharing each others company.” Henge smiled remembering the brief friendship that had formed in America.

“How many times did you ‘share each others company’,” Hideo asked suspiciously.

“About four times,” Henge replied.

“Oh really.” A cunning grin came across Hideo’s face and Henge immediately recognized it.

“I know what you’re thinking, but don’t even. We are friends and something tells me it will never be more than that,” Henge retorted defensively.

“Why do you say that?” Hideo returned to a serious tone of voice. Henge puffed on his cigarette a moment and thought before answering.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, just because I’m not sure, but for starters her eyes looked at me only as a friend,” Henge began choosing his words carefully.

“Her eyes?” Hideo asked confused.

“They express a lot about her and they kind of shone with gratefulness when I was listening to her, like she needed someone to talk to. You wouldn’t believe how open she was with me; I guess it kind of made me feel good that she was so trusting of me even though we’d just met,” Henge paused, a mixture of distress creasing his face for a split-second. “Also I don’t believe she’s like normal people.”

“How so?” Hideo asked. He was extremely intrigued by this. Henge appeared to have had a similar experience as he had had two weeks ago.

“I think perhaps those closest to the Queen of Crystal Tokyo live a lot longer than a normal human, if not forever,” Henge said quietly. Hideo was stunned. Henge wasn’t the type to believe in magic or immortality, but he seemed sure of himself on this.

“How do you know?” Hideo asked.

“Well, I’m not positive, but…” In the following few minutes Henge retold the incident with the picture and her strange words about her age and dreams.

“And you thought my story was crazy,” Hideo laughed, which surprised Henge. “Maybe it’s fate that we both have had such strange events in our lives.” Henge finally smiled and nodded his head.

“Maybe.”

“So you two formed a friendship, are you planning on meeting again now that you’re back in Japan? I would like to meet her,” Hideo asked.

“We planned to. I invited her to our next concert at the Tokyo Dome, though she said she might be hard to spot. I think she might like to meet you too, she showed a certain interest.” Henge had purposefully not told Hideo about how Makoto had seemed to know him. He wasn’t sure if it was true and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know anymore than he already did.

“Me? Why me?” Hideo sat forward curious.

“I’m not sure, something about what you said on the interview two weeks ago made her curious to meet you.

“Can’t imagine what,” Hideo replied as he yawned.

“Did you all stay up late for the entire week I was gone?” Henge admonished gently.

“Not really, but we had so many public appearances to deal with and Yo-chan and Ka-chan both have singles they’re working on. I was actually the least busy of everyone, but still, the entire week I didn’t seem to have a free moment.” Hideo put a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes.

“Then get some sleep, I’ll take care of the stage preparation in the morning, you just kick back for a while and I tell the others to do the same. We only need one person to do it right now anyway.” Henge offered.

“Are you sure?” Henge nodded. “Thanks He-chan, you’re a pal.” Hideo smiled and stood up.

“Well I’ll be going then, make sure you get some sleep. No more midnight inspiration,” Henge said with mock sternness. Hideo walked him to the door and then paused after he opened it.

“It’s good that you’re back from the States, He-chan. I was worried for your safety while over there,” Hideo said seriously and Henge stopped by the door.

“Thank you, Hideo.” Henge smiled softly and gave his friend a hug. “But hey, I found us bodyguard for when next we go.”

“Huh?” Hideo studied his grin as they broke the hug.

“Makoto-san told me to call her if any one of us wanted protection and she’d do it personally,” Henge laughed. “I plan on holding her to that offer, so you won’t have to worry the next time we’re in America.” Hideo finally overcame his shock and smiled shaking his head at the irony of the situation. “Strange huh?” Henge just smiled. “Get some sleep, Hideo-chan.” He set his hand on his shorter friend’s shoulder and then departed from Hideo’s flat.