Usagi

The dawn of my thirteenth birthday was a splendid one, an impressionistic tableau painted in dark blues and soft pinks and shining oranges. I couldn’t remember ever being up to see it before, and now watched it eagerly. Being the opposite of an early riser really isn’t much of a problem if you’ve spent the night waking.

That was required, for some reason, so I’d been sitting in this secluded chamber in one of the towers since early last night. I was supposed to be meditating over the ginzuishou, which was lying on the pedestal in front of me, still fixed on the Crescent Wand. It was fortunate that Luna and Mother, who kept me company, already knew that I’d never been a great practicer of patience and deep thought, or they might not have known to nudge me awake before I started snoring.

“Drink the last drop of thy solitude,” Mother had intoned when they’d shut the door behind us, “because thou shalt never be alone again.”

Technically, she and Luna were with me, but the requested silence had made it seem at times like I was on my own with the crystal after all. That was probably the intent – make me feel isolated, so that I could form some sort of bond with the ginzuishou, yet don't leave me alone so that I could do something stupid and get hurt. I wasn’t really very good with magic.

But now I wasn’t isolated at all, and soon I never could be again, because Mother was raising, lifting the Wand from its resting-place and closing my hands around the shaft. Even all my ten fingers weren’t enough to completely cover it.

She didn’t have to nod at me to make me follow her out the door and down the stairs, Luna trailing behind me. A nervous excitement filled me as we reached the circular area beneath the Crystal Tower – they were already standing there, waiting for me.

A thin, pale girl with her hands clasped demurely in front of her and shy, sweet eyes; a tall girl with a cocky posture and friendly green eyes; a girl with sweeping dark hair and a raven on each of her shoulders; a smiling blonde with Artemis standing just behind her. He bent down and kissed her forehead, a reflection of how Luna pressed her lips against the golden moon-crescent on my own fronthead.

Artemis beckoned to the ravens when he walked towards us, and after what seemed like a momentary hesitance they took flight and landed on his shoulders. He took his place beside Luna, three steps behind me, with the birds who had once been his friends perching on him like soulless animals. It was terrible. If the ginzuishou was as powerful as everyone claimed, why couldn’t we use it to give them back what they’d lost?

But now Mother kissed my brow as well, and stepped back, and I raised the Crescent Wand above my head. Four girls mirrored my action with their henshin wands. I spoke the words that I still didn’t understand, and the ginzuishou started flaring. In a matter of moments, light erupted from all the wands, weaving a pattern of planetary energy between us.

It felt like it took forever, like I’d been standing here holding up this great weight that was the ginzuishou for eternity, but it was probably just a few seconds. My shoulders sagged when it was over, and I almost dropped the Wand, but at the same time, I felt lighter, stronger than I ever had.

All of their energy was in me now, our hearts tied together.

I smiled. Ami returned it tentatively, Makoto broadly, Rei forcedly, Minako brilliantly.

“Minna!” I held out both my hands, and they hurried forward to clasp them.

“Serenity-ohimesama.” The word was a chorus, a mutual voice born from all of their throats, carrying depths beyond depths of loyalty, need and, over and beyond everything else, love.

* * * * * * * *

Ami

I was nervous when I first set foot on the soil of the Moon. It felt as if the cold, pungent emotion crawled up my spine, freezing my soul into a state not unlike that of a limb which has fallen asleep. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but not an unfamiliar one. I’d never been a confident person.

Usually, because of this, I kept to my studies. Math, physics, languages, history, biology…they were all easy to understand, and the only thing they required from me in return was patience and interest. They were trustworthy, logical, safe.

What I really wanted was…someone to share my knowledge with. Someone that I could be close to. A friend.

But you needed a different kind of intelligence than mine to handle people. You needed a better sense of self. You needed to be able to…I didn’t know. And perhaps because of that, I couldn’t achieve it.

I interacted smoothly with staff and teachers and guests. But the reason it was so smooth was because it was kept completely on the surface. Deeper down in the hearts and minds of complex, incomprehensible humans (even myself) I felt insecure.

True, deep down in the heart is the only place you can be truly healed, but it’s also the only place that you can be truly hurt. That makes it very hard, because every human being is born with a wound, a hole inside that only human closeness can fill. The void aches, so you strive to fill it with the love of and for others. If you succeed, the pain can stop, and that means you have found happiness. But it’s a risky thing to try, because if you fail, those others whom you hoped to love and be loved by, they might turn on you and expose the endlessness of your hollowness, fill it with more pain, more hurt than you can bear.

So, by execution of rational thought (that fools you into thinking that you can understand other people, until one day you realize that logic doesn’t apply to anyone’s heart and that, consequently, you cannot comprehend and must remain alone and misunderstood) it is advisable to try and connect to others if that comes easily to you. If it does not, the odds that you will succeed in your attempt are bad, so common sense urges you to refrain from such actions.

I didn’t know why I’d become like this; I’d come to understand that most other people denied these rules of interaction. Possibly that was because I was unusually flawed, that I alone suffered anxiety and half-voluntary isolation. Probably that was because admitting it would leave them nothing to cling to, nothing to keep them afloat.

My parents loved me. They had a hard time showing it, but I was positive that they did love me. Of course, genetic laws dictate that parents care for their children as a simple measure to ensure survival of the race, but I was reasonably certain that their commitment to me went beyond what nature craved.

Still, much as I returned their attachment, I had always had a feeling of being somewhat cold.

That changed, finally and forever and very abruptly, when the initiation ceremony bound me to the Princess Serenity and the other three guardian Senshi.

Warm was the energy that linked us, warm was the feeling it left. The warmth of love, trust, friendship, loyalty, affection, responsibility, protectiveness. We were to protect something important, and the protecting was something important and beautiful in its own right.

You could say that I was home.

My odds were suddenly so much better. Thinking ahead is not cowardice – I would love these people, the wonder that was my Princess, green Jupiter, red Mars, golden Venus. Predictably, they would love me in return.

I clasped their hands in my own, realizing that I could not have refrained from loving any of them even if I’d tried, not with a link such a this tying us together in a knot of need, of protecting and being protected.

I found it somewhat scary that I didn’t find it scary.

* * * * * * * *

Makoto

I was not nervous when I first set foot on the soil of the Moon. I scowled at the thought. What the heck did I have to be nervous about?

It was just that I’d never much thought of myself as a person suited for a tight link like this.

Or well, one part of me was. The Makoto who could cook and sew, who was timid and gentle. It was just that that wasn’t the only Makoto – that she was rivaled/complemented by the Makoto who could mock and fight, who was rash and hard.

Being a bit split like that is the curse of being a tomboy.

Sometimes I was comfortable with it, could see the profits of a double personality, enjoy the possibility to switch from hously maiden to defiant fighter. Other times it was just confusing, and I felt like I wasn’t sure who I was, or even whom I wanted to be – as though I was doomed to fail in both roles because I couldn’t dedicate myself fully to either one of them.

I was the princess who should perhaps have been born a prince. And maybe that was good, maybe it gave me a reason to strive harder for my goal, to surpass all the genuine princes in the princely arts of rescuing and protecting the princess. But maybe it was bad, because I could never be a full-fledged prince, and I couldn’t be a real princess either.

It’s easy to say something like, hey, what’s the matter? I’ll just be the best of them all, beating all the princesses and all the princes. Who says a princess has to be pure and passive anyway?

It’s just not so easy to believe in it.

Not that I’d ever have to worry about a guy. Sure, Inner Senshi having passing affairs certainly wasn’t unheard of, but I’d never get married, never have a classical family.

And part of me was happy for that, rejoicing that I’d never be trapped like that. After all, if I’d married someone, I wouldn’t be Makoto anymore, I’d be his wife. If I gave birth to someone, I wouldn’t be Makoto anymore either, but I’d be his/her/their mother. My importance would be the importance I had to someone else.

Another part of me grieved over the…could I call it a loss when I’d never had it to begin with? The part that said that I could be happy like that, that my most important importance was the importance I had to my loved ones. Could I have made a good and happy housewife? Or would frustration and claustrophobia have devoured me?

Yes, it would probably be a nightmare to be linked to someone so divided as I. At least I was a good warrior.

Who are they? Will they like me? Will I have to change?

I wasn’t elevated to some higher state by meditating in that little chamber they’d locked me up in – I was crying and raging, frustration tangling harder and harder around me until I couldn’t get loose, couldn’t move at all. I was pretty close to blasting down the door, for a while.

But when the ceremony finally came after the long sleepless night, everything was so natural and fine.

The bond came so easily, and suddenly, connected to the angelic being that was the Princess (my, our Princess) and the three girls for whom I felt such an attachment, it was as if my two selves were knit together somehow. Not completely, I doubted that they’d ever be, but somehow compatible. After all, they were both striving to protect the Princess Serenity.

When it was over, I curled my hands around those of the others, didn’t know, and didn’t care, whose exactly it was. The other Senshi were equally important to me, and the Princess’ brilliance shone through the layers of flesh.

Feeling my hands squished back, I was filled with an almost tear-jerking happiness.

* * * * * * * *

Minako
I’d waited all my life to go to the Moon. At first, when I was small, it had been an unreal fantasy, like any dream of what I’d do in the future. Most often, but not always, I liked it better than the prospects of marrying a brave and beautiful prince or going dragon-slaying myself.

Then the fateful day arrived that saw the death of my family and the ruination of the greater part of my planet.

Somehow, the fear and hunger and despair had never been part of the heroic adventures I’d fantasized about. I’d never imagined myself hysterical or suicidal or utterly defeated by the monster. I couldn’t save Ami-chan and I couldn’t save myself. I couldn’t even try to save my mother or father or anyone else important to me. And I hadn’t pictured the knight saving me as an effeminate half-god. True, the tall and handsome man who’d carried me home came pretty close to my idea of Prince Charming, but the real Mister Right would hardly just have left me when we were safe again.

Yeah, the biggest difference between my childhood fairytale dreams and my reality was the living happily ever after, or lack thereof, respectively.

I couldn’t recall a single story in which, when the princess returns home at the end of the adventure, her parents are still dead and her castle and her life still in ruins.

I likely wouldn’t have made it very far at all without Artemis. He became my father, my brother, my best friend, my teacher and my first crush, all wrapped up into one. He’d done pretty well in all those roles.

He steadied me for as long as he had to, then let go and simply walked beside me. Because I had him, it didn’t matter so much that my stepparents didn’t know what to do with me. Because I had him, I made it through. Not unchanged, maybe not even undamaged, but through.

From that day, Princess Serenity and the bond to her and the other Senshi became the goal of my life, my reason for existence. I could joke and play around, but it was always there in the background.

If I’d been only Minako, I would have been expendable, so I would probably have let myself die sometime close to my parent’s demise. Sailorvenus was not replaceable, and because of that, Minako lived on as well.

Weird formulation, especially as I didn’t have the kinda-like-schizophrenia-problems that some Senshi had. I was the same person, transformed or untransformed. It was just a change of clothing.

“Good luck,” Artemis had said to me as we arrived.

“You too,” I had replied, unable to help looking at the slight, dark-haired figure approaching us.

I’d never asked him about Luna. I mean, I’d always assumed it had been a mutual decision that he take care of me after the loss of my family, but even aside from the question of what kind of marriage you had when you were willing to be without each other for years, it was apparent that the two of them had issues. For once, though, I kept from prying. I felt like I owed him privacy after all he’d done for me.

It was days after the binding that I picked up a piece of conversation between the two of them.

Luna, carefully: “…the girl, Sailorvenus?”

Artemis, darkly and bitterly, dramatically as was not unusual: “Mina? We both have our substitute daughters now.”

Luna, quietly but intensely: “She’s not a substitute.”

There was no reply, but the sound of footsteps indicated that he left. I never asked him about that either, maybe out of respect for his secrets, maybe because I was too caught up with the Princess and the Senshi.

* * * * * * * *

Rei

I screwed up. It was a simple statement of fact, formulated in my lonesomeness in the cell. When I couldn’t give him what he wanted, I should have just stayed the hell away from him.

It was just that I’d had some delusional idea, back then, about finding a little happiness for both of us that could carry us through darker times. Or it might simply be that my judgement was dimmed by lust and love and longing.

I’d carry my cross, the one that my own selfish foolishness had placed on my back, but it wasn’t fair that I’d broken him as well.

The events of that last morning were surreal, even more so than the rest of our stolen time together. Badly put – it felt more like we’d been outside of time during those few days, living in a universe of our own making.

Back on track.

There was no way that I should have been able to transform into Supersailormars. None of us had even been given the star-formula. And even if I’d had the crystal-topped henshin wand and activated it, I should have died when I summoned the energy for the Mars Flame Sniper. Nor should he possibly have survived that attack, not without any shield to protect him.

I’d tried to change into Supersailormars again the very next day. Even with the henshin wand and after hours of meditation, not a fizzle of energy had stirred. Not a single sparkle.

The thought that anyone else, people outside of my control or even influence, had that kind of power was unnerving – power to undergo the ultimate transformation, to survive energy that could have killed a lesser god.

Unnerving in the case of the other three Tennou, that was. The only frightening aspect of Jadeite was the strength of my own feelings for him. The power in itself, regardless of whom it originated from, had been ours rather than his.

But none of that mattered now, because I would never touch that boundless energy again.

I was a trained priestess – I could easily have spent the night in trance, as had been the intent. If I’d been of a mind to disgrace myself like that, I might even have used a little meditation to push away the anxiety and doubts and just have slept.

Instead, I found myself sitting on the uncomfortable stone bench with my knees drawn up to my chest. I twined my arms around them, hugging them closer to myself to flee the desperate sensation of loneliness that had invaded me.

When I finally managed to eject it, I felt strangely empty. It was as though I hadn’t only pushed the loneliness away, but all my other emotions, all the rest of my self, as well. It was uncanny, but, also strangely, not in an uncomfortable way.

I rested my head against my up-drawn knees and stared unblinkingly into the darkness. Even Phobos and Deimos, down on the floor, were quiet as a grave. They’d taken them away at first, wanting my night of isolation to be complete, but the impetuous blackbirds had flown in through the window just after the sun had set.

And then I raised my henshin wand to the Moon Princess, and the glimmering chains of love and duty settled around me. I thrashed around in them, needing them to tie me down harder, chain me to the princess’ side for all eternity.

She’d been an ordinary girl for just about a minute, before the ginzuishou activated. Then she became a miracle, and, to me, she remained an angel of light even after the crystal had returned to the hands of her mother.

I burned with desire for her – a passionate need to protect her, to sacrifice myself for her unattainable light.

One love does not exclude another, but Jadeite could never compare to the Heart of Light.

* * * * * * * *

Kunzite
Jigatso was a small, foul-smelling town only a couple of miles from the border between the Golden Kingdom and plain Earth. I’d never been a great admirer of the capital, but I realized now that that particular opinion of mine might easily have originated in lack of compare. Considering chiefly my ability to teleport, but also a number of other circumstances including wealth and lots of spare time, it was surprising that I had visited so few places. I’d never felt a great need to see them, but I wondered suddenly what I’d been missing out on. Strange, that it was this disgusting little village and not the grand and glorious Tsukikagemati or Neptune’s equally enthralling capital of Atlantis that had awakened my desire to travel.

Well, I didn’t have time for that now, even though most upper-class humans probably had seen more of the galaxy than I, which was somewhat embarrassing. Of course, it was only in recent years that my world had grown to encompass more than the palace grounds, and even most of those head been new territory when Nephrite broke up with the government.

Even after the chains had snapped and the gates swung wide open, I’d stayed at the old grounds. I could have gone to every corner of the Earth, but had chosen to remain in the capital and its closest surroundings. It was there that my life was lived, where everything of importance was located. The rest of the realm was just a blurry background.

The Moon, what little I’d seen of it, had been magnificent, yes, but not in a way that I found particularly appealing. It was a splendid sight to behold, but I’d been sticking out so badly. In a realm of innocent light, what could I ever be perceived as but a looming shadow?

I’d discarded what few idealistic heroic concepts I’d entertained during my younger years, but I still didn’t want to regard myself as something of darkness.

I wanted, intended, to do good.

On Venus, I mostly had. Amateurishly, certainly, but still effectively. Yes, I’d killed a great many darkcreatures of different species and sizes. My doing so had saved uncounted human lives.

But I’d never cared much for mortals, and Zoisite’s handling of the demon that he and the Sailor girls had encountered suggested that they weren’t as different from us as people liked to think.

Not that I regretted taking offensive action towards them. It just certified my belief that I could probably kill humans too, without feeling much more than I had when exterminating darkcreatures. On the one hand, mankind as a whole lacked the domination of hatred and darkness that made their opponents easy to abhor – on the other, mankind as a whole hadn’t treated me all that much better than the demons and their minions.

Oh, I knew which side I was and would remain on, having no wish to see the world destroyed, but it was slightly ironical that the only planet I had seen more than a few miles of was a wasted one.

As it was situated even closer to the sun that Earth was, I’d been surprised at first over the lavish greenery that adorned the planet. Then the spells started breaking down under the assault of negative energy, and I understood why the color of Sailorvenus’ skirt was orange. At least a sixth of the planet had to be desert again now. When the population grew, magic had been used to transform large areas into livable ones. I hated to think about how much energy it would require to re-set those spells. But, I reflected grimly, now that the number of inhabitants dropped so drastically, they probably don’t need to.

Considering populations, it was a bit startling that at least forty percent of Neptune’s surface was still covered by oceans, undisturbed by manmade land. Then again, the Outer planets always had had a much lower number of inhabitants than the Inner ones. Which made perfect sense, with the more frequent demon attacks as main but not sole reason.

I’d seen more of the sea planet than battlefields, having visited both government events and places that were simply alluring with Michiru-san, but despite the awing quality of a seemingly endless ocean, I’d come to the conclusion that I rather preferred land.

Not necessarily land at the likes of this, though. I’d been amazed, ever since arriving here two and a half day ago, that people actually chose to spend their lives in the dreary area. And here I though that nothing humans do could surprise me anymore.

But I wasn’t here to inspect the landscape. I was here to plan and execute a political/military mission. All of which would have been so much simpler if I’d been able to get Zoisite out of my head.

Not that he hadn’t been a constant occupant of same for more than a decade, but…let’s just said that my sentiments were very divided in their opinions as to whether Jadeite had picked an extremely unfortunate or just the right time to attempt to end his life.

Zoisite hadn’t protested my kissing him, but he hadn’t exactly encouraged it, either.

His entire appearance had been contractionary, childish and seductive both – the way he blushed and clung to me and almost cried. He hadn’t pulled away, though, and –

And I had better stop thinking about it if I’m going to get something done today.

I’d spent the time this far reading reports and talking to the people who had scouted the non-magical areas – or area, I supposed, since most of it was connected now. Apparently, the inhabitants called their ‘country’ Grålanden. The most shocking revelation this far was that Relisiana had been right – there seemed indeed to be no magic. In my books, that was a more understandable reason than the clouded dreams for the lack of civilization. Rumor had it that Grålanden was on terms with the West when it came to sophistication.

Fortunately, when I’d ventured a few steps inside the border, it had turned out that at least my magic could still function, though at an unnervingly diminished basis.

And now, today, we were moving in.

Since humans as a rule are stupid and power-hungry, it was the opposite of surprising that several factions were at war, all striving to win the crown of Grålanden. After contemplating assuming the throne myself, I’d decided that I didn’t want such an unruly and retarded kingdom, especially as I had no plans to spend the rest of my life here. And if I left one of the humans in charge, it was a matter of time before the civil war stared again. Not that my comrades/underlings were incompetent, exactly, but this project hadn’t been one of the priorities when assignments were handed out. The soldiers were average, but most of the others were either too young, too old or simply not very gifted at whatever it was they were paid to do.

Not that I was too terribly old myself, but then I was something of a special case. If my henchmen had been able to perform worthwhile magic inside the border, age wouldn’t have been a matter.

But I still wasn’t even sure that I wanted to handle this too well – though the reasons she had offered me were valid enough in their own right, I didn’t doubt for a second that Relisiana would be very interested to know how I dealt with the situation. The queen of Earth was not foolish enough to directly try to control any of us, but of course she desired as much influence as she could get, and, though not so strong as magic, knowledge is power. I wasn’t certain what kind of impression I would prefer to give her.

And there I stopped to give myself a scornfully ironical smile. As if she would need any more after that godforsaken ball!

All right, so she had already known that I was fond of Zoisite. That was still no reason to start kissing him in front of her, no matter my emotional state. And both our behaviors, even before that, left much to be desired in terms of dignity and discretion. Not that anything worse than Nephrite laughing himself sick at my expense would probably happen, but still…

I hadn’t spoken to him since before teleporting to the Western town, but this was just the sort of thing that he had a knack for finding out about. Then Jadeite was a worse matter. If he really had fallen in love with Sailormars – and I could see no valid reason for Relisiana to lie to me – that might prove very troublesome. I didn’t necessarily like him much, but he was a fellow Tennou. He might be needed, and he had already been hurt enough. I’d come to understand, over a few long conversations in the graveyard-garden, how dark his life was. But Zoisite if anyone should be able to help/handle him. Jadeite needed him, if not quite in the same way I did. I’d seen the light in his eyes as he looked at him, caused by Zoisite being perhaps not so much his best as his only friend. Regardless of what qualities Nephrite might claim that mortals possessed, I remained confident that the prince, as a normal, happy human, couldn’t comprehend the first thing about an abnormal, alien being such as a Tennou. After all, even Nephrite, who actually seemed to enjoy spending time with them, had never seen humans as anything but inferior beings.

Inferior, but not completely harmless, as I well knew. As they were in possession of a number of relics and could count among them the Sailorsenshi, their quantity might outweigh our quality in an eventual conflict. For several reasons, I would prefer to avoid a struggle, especially if the Night Walls were indeed about to thin out.

If there really is only such short time left, I can readily think of a dozen things I’d rather be doing that leading this mostly pointless campaign. I closed my eyes, forcing my traitorous thoughts to push away the assailing memories of the taste and texture of Zoisite’s lips, the silky-soft feeling of his hair. I fought a blush as fantasy opted to take over where memory ended, once more running the arguments for my leaving through my head. Time hadn’t made them any more appealing, but unfortunately they were still just as valid.

It became momentarily easier to distract myself as we broke through the border and entered Grålanden, which was probably fortunate, considering my minor experience with horses. Oh, I’d ridden before, and the mount I presently used was a calm old animal that was unlikely to throw fits, but I had no illusions of being able to stay in the saddle if he suddenly decided that he didn’t want me in it anymore. Horses had most certainly not been my second choice after teleportation/gateways, but the scouts had reported that even the simplest enchanted transportation devices were completely unheard of in these primitive lands. Just being able to afford a couple of mounts was supposed to prove us wealthy.

Since nobody from the outside seemed fit to reign Grålanden, it hadn’t taken all that long to establish that the best course of action would be to select one of the lords striving for the rulership and ascertain that that the person in question achieved the position. As most of the candidates were rather evenly matched, whomever I chose would be dependent upon my support to gain the power, thus s/he had to follow what advice I saw fit to give. In the case that the regent got too independent, a little magic ought to be a quick and effective reminder of the pecking order.

I wanted someone who was well enough established in Grålanden’s higher society to not be entirely dependent upon outside influence, but also someone who didn’t have enough power on his/her own too get ideas. A certain Lord Hoshimi seemed like a good choice, but I wanted to meet him before reaching a definite decision, and so I’d copied a professor’s knowledge to get a better grip of the Nihong that was spoken in Grålanden and collected these two hundred soldiers as a completely unnecessary honor guard.

Hoshimi lived in a primitive residence of what appeared to be mostly bamboo and paper, the simplistic lines of which I had to admit were not entirely unappealing. I would have liked to see a greater part of Grålanden, but unfortunately my would-be associate lived rather aloofly. There weren’t even all that many servants flocking around us as we mounted off. Or maybe it was just I being stupid when comparing the standards of this place to those of the Golden Kingdom.

Leaving most of the others outside (why would I bring them, when all they could do was crowd the house? They could never protect me against anything I couldn’t defend myself from) I allowed one of the servants to escort me to his master.

Lord Hoshimi turned out to be exactly what I’d been looking for – a perfectly mediocre man. His most successful competitor, Lady Ilindra, was one I’d excluded as being too extravagant. I wasn’t sure that Hoshimi believed in a golden kingdom of magic, and probably he wasn’t either, but the only really important thing was that he did believe in the legions that could ascertain his crown and the fact that he could not win it by himself.

Perhaps I ought to have conducted a more thorough investigation, but some wild impulse led me to approve of his suggestion that we sign the contracts tonight.

Not before having already done so did I allow myself to remember that the time in which I finished up here made no difference to when I could return to Zoisite.