Earth
Guardian Prince Endymion
By Senshi
of Ruin and Mizu no Senshi
Act Fifty Nine Recap:
(Mamoru’s POV)
As she opened the wardrobe, something moved. Usagi
screamed as the shape lunged at her face, knocking her to the floor.
Landing hard on her back, she grabbed the cat by the
scruff of her neck and held her out in front of her.
“Luna!” Usagi cried, overjoyed to see her friend. Luna,
however, was not as pleased to see her.
Twisting away Luna landed neatly on the bed and hissed at
the stunned pigtailed girl.
“Luna?” Usagi took a step back in confusion before it dawned
upon her. Luna had known… she had known and Mio had kept her shut in here to
prevent her from warning the others.
“Luna, it’s me” Usagi tried again, this time moving slowly
towards her, “Mamoru, Ami-chan and Taro-san rescued me. Mio’s gone.”
After Usagi’s rescue and, due to the minor injuries that
she sustained, I decided that it was probably best that she stayed with me for
a while and we went back to her house to get some of her things. There she was
reunited with Luna who Mio had kept locked in a wardrobe to keep her from
warning us about Mio’s plan.
“Before…” Usagi whispered softly, “The Youma… they kill
people don’t they.”
“Usagi--”
“This is my destiny and it always has been. I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to fight this
time.”
“And run away? So much pain has been caused already. I’m
not going to run, I’m no longer the frightened schoolgirl that Mio-chan
remembers. These Youma have killed people, innocent people, and I am not going
to stand by and allow this to happen again. Moon prism power… make up!”
Although I had my reservations about Usagi fighting so
soon, I wasn’t wholly upset when she seemed determined to do so. Why should I
when, at the moment we are all still divided despite my resolve that things
would be different this time around.
Breathing out the smoke, Masaki felt that frightening wave
of pain threatening to wash over him again and he again raised the cigarette to
his lips as though this would somehow assuage this pain.
“Mou, you’ve still not given up that disgusting habit? I
really used to hate it when you smoked in my chambers”
Masaki froze, now almost afraid to open his eyes at that
familiar voice.
Yet it was, no mistake. Slowly Masaki opened his eyes,
feeling dumb with shock as he stared at the reflection that had joined his own
in the mirror: Kuroki Mio.
Kisho and Seiichi cannot fight and Masaki is still on the
edge. I am just terrified that the smallest thing may sway him either way and I
don’t want him to become our enemy… not again…
******
Act Sixty:
Breathing out the smoke, Masaki felt that frightening wave
of pain threatening to wash over him again and he again raised the cigarette to
his lips as though this would somehow assuage this pain.
“Mou, you’ve still not given up that disgusting habit? I
really used to hate it when you smoked in my chambers”
Masaki froze, now almost afraid to open his eyes at that
familiar voice.
Yet it was, no mistake. Slowly Masaki opened his eyes,
feeling dumb with shock as he stared at the reflection that had joined his own
in the mirror: Kuroki Mio.
Whirling around, Masaki leapt backwards, feeling his lower
back striking the basin as he did so. Still clutching the cigarette in his
right hand, he debated transforming but he just couldn’t bring himself to do
so… not in his current state of mind.
Her grin widening, Mio leaned forward and plucked the
cigarette from his hand and, before Masaki could react, she pressed the burning
end into the back of his hand. He gave a small cry of pain and moved towards
the door, but Mio blocked his way and gave him another sly smile.
“Does it hurt?” she enquired softly when Masaki met her
gaze and she stepped forward and Masaki, having since backed into the wall, had
nowhere else to go.
Knowing this, Mio reached up and cupped his chin in her
hand. Revolted at her touch, Masaki pulled back. Pretending that this action
meant nothing, Mio leaned forward and brushed her lips against his own.
Pulling back again, Mio pouted and languidly ran a hand
down his chest. Masaki, unable to bear this familiar contact, grabbed her wrist
and pushed her away. Mio fell back a few steps and smirked as she said:
“What’s wrong? You used to like it when I did that… and
more…”
“You’re lying.”
“To some extent, yes. We never did share a bed. Despite
being older than my appearance you never could be completely comfortable with
it, but this body has aged also do not forget.”
To emphasize this point, Mio leaned up again and forced
another kiss on him… and hurriedly drew back when Masaki bit her lip. Furiously
she reacted, slapping him across the cheek with a blow that knocked him back
into the wall.
Still, despite this, Masaki managed to look her in the
eyes as he asked quietly: “What about Mamoru?”
“I love Mamoru-kun.”
“Then what is this?”
“What is this? This is nothing. You are nothing.”
“Why did you save me?”
“Why?” Mio answered, taking a step closer, “Would anyone
else have?”
Masaki did turn to look at her, his eyes narrowing in
suspicion; “You can’t judge them on that one mistake. It wasn’t their fault.
Seiichi couldn’t have done anything…”
Mio nodded, feigning sympathy, “Of course not. I’m sure he
didn’t mean for this to happen. He is just so focused on the mission that
individual lives mean nothing to him, to any of them.”
“That can’t be true” Masaki whispered softly, his own
voice wavering with doubt as he spoke, “Mamoru never cared for the mission…
only the…” he paused and then his tenor darkened slightly, “The Princess. He
only ever cared for the Princess.”
Mio shrugged and gave him another supposedly gentle smile,
“Endymion always had been blinded by his heart.”
“He betrayed us,” Masaki murmured, clenching his fists at
his sides as he spoke, “He betrayed me. He was my friend. I trusted him.”
Masaki gasped slightly, pressing one hand tightly to his
head as though this could somehow assuage the memories.
Sensing this, Mio strode forward again, “Poor Masaki-kun,
remembering what you did. That you betrayed them.”
“That you abandoned the mission, that you abandoned your
destiny and your duty towards your Master. That you turned on them. That you
killed him--”
“Shut up!”
“Why?” Mio giggled, “It is the truth. You killed him
before and, perhaps, you tried to do so again.”
“What are you saying?”
Mio shrugged her slender shoulders, “Well you and I know
who attacked Seiichi-kun, but it was you who Taro found with him. You didn’t
even try to help him. You left him there to die.”
“No! The memories--”
“The memories are just the beginning. They will begin to
doubt you. Not yet, of course, but when he dies they will start looking for
someone to blame. They will start to think ‘what if Masaki had called for help
sooner?’ They will blame you.”
“No--”
“Yes. They will blame you because you are a liar and a
traitor. Instead of helping him you put yourself first and now you cower here
and wait for Mamoru-kun to call you, to tell you that none of this is your
fault and you want him to. You want him to because then you can become the
victim. We are the same, Masaki-kun, deep down and you know this as well as I
do.”
“Shut up” Masaki whispered. He couldn’t take this… it was
as though she was tearing through his very soul, finding all the little doubts
that had been building up in the back of his mind and magnifying them until he
began to feel as though she was right. He should have helped Seiichi
sooner. He had reacted as though he was the victim when all Mamoru-tachi
had wanted to do was protect him from the truth because they knew that he
wouldn’t be able cope with it and they were right. He couldn’t cope with it.
How could he? He had murdered his friend and betrayed his Prince.
“How does it feel?” Mio whispered, her face now inches
from his own, “How does it feel to suffer as I have done? How does it feel to
be alone?”
Masaki looked away, unable to bear the look of pain in her
eyes, a look that he was sure was mirrored in his own.
“How dare you? After all we’ve been through! Why did you
lie to me? Why didn’t you tell me what I did?”
For a split second, when Mio leaned forward again to
capture his lips in a searing kiss, Masaki responded, his arms wrapping around
her and pulling her closer. He felt his pain changing, wrapping itself around
his heart and fuelling it with the dangerous type of anger that he was all too
familiar with.
“They betrayed you for a second time” Mio whispered into
his ear, “Your Prince betrayed you again.”
“No!” Masaki pulled away, all but throwing himself against
the wall in a bid to tear himself away from this desire to allow himself to
sink into darkness once again. He would be a fool to allow this for a second
time. Where there could be momentary relief, Masaki knew that to repeat such a
cycle could only cause him more pain.
“You fool” Mio sneered as she prepared a teleport to take
her from the room, “Now you are truly alone.”
As she left, Masaki allowed himself to slump to the floor;
the tears that he had been holding back now ran freely down his cheeks. He was
weak… he was pathetic to even allow her that close. He drew a harsh breath as
more sobs racked his body. For a moment he had been tempted to believe her, to
allow her in again because facing the truth had been too terrible. Mamoru-tachi
had not told him because they still believed that a part of him remained when
Metallia took over his body. That a part of him that had willingly allowed such
corruption had been watching and laughing at the suffering that had been
caused. That they blamed him for past and current situations.
He was weak and they had all known it and Masaki knew that
Mamoru-tachi would be better off without him. He had betrayed them once and
Masaki couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t do so again and this though terrified
him.
******
Waking was a gradual process. He slowly drifted in and out
of different states of consciousness. He would hear voices in the distance, he
would be aware of someone moving around near to him and sometimes talking to
him, but then these sounds would fade and he would be once again lost in
endless darkness.
This time, however, it was different. Before he had felt
strangely detached from the world. Still a part of it and at the same time cut
off as though he had transcended somewhat. Now his senses were all returning,
almost overwhelming him as he became aware of not just talking, but being able
to understand what the people around him were saying rather the muffledness
that it had been before. Inhaling softly, he could smell disinfectant and
coughed slightly as he swallowed, his throat feeling dry and sore.
He could feel the soft pillow under his head and the
warmth of the blanket over him. His desire to slip back into unconsciousness
was weakening as he, slowly, opened his eyes, wincing at the light that
momentarily blinded him. Closing his eyes again, he forced himself to be
patient and gradually opened them this time, allowing himself to get used to
the morning light that fell in through the window and onto his skin and the bed
that he lay on.
“Komoro-san?” the voice moved closer now, until it was
right above him. “Komoro-san? How are you feeling?”
This latest statement was accompanied by a gentle touch on
his bare arm. He looked up, struggling to focus on the woman staring down at
him. She appeared to be in her early thirties. Her black hair was tied up in a
neat ponytail, but a few strands purposefully framed the sides of her face. She
smiled slightly at his reaction to her touch and repeated her request regarding
his health.
He frowned slightly and coughed again in an attempt to
clear his throat.
“Would you like some water?” she asked next and he nodded
mutely in response. Gently, she helped ease him into a sitting position,
pausing to adjust the pillows so that he could lean against them before
offering him the aforementioned water. He took a few sips, making no attempt to
take the glass from her and indeed she did not try to hand it to him, only
gently holding it to his lips as she looked on encouragingly. He felt weak, so
weak that even this small thing caused fatigue to overcome him again and she
sensed this as she moved to set the glass down on the cabinet beside his bed
and helped him to lie down once more.
As she did so, he cast an eye to the ID badge that was
pinned to her jacket. The kanji read ‘Dr Miura’. He had realised, for the first
time, that he was in a hospital, but his head was starting to ache and he found
it difficult to concentrate on anything.
Dr Miura appeared to realise this and enquired to know if
he would like something for the pain. Again a shake of the head was all he
could muster and he allowed his eyes to slip closed again.
In this time Dr Miura moved about the room, sometimes
coming over to him and checking the line that hooked him up to the monitoring
equipment behind his head and then checking his heart rate and commenting
softly on how cold he was.
“Demo” she said, taking a step back from his bed, “These
machines can only tell me so much. How are you feeling in yourself?”
He frowned, not sure how to answer this question, as, in
truth, he wasn’t sure. “I have a headache,” he said, pausing at the sound of
hearing his voice out loud. It was different from he had imagined it would
sound; softer and much less hesitant than he was feeling right now. Shivering,
he reached out to pull the sheets over himself a little more and paused as his
gaze took in the bandages wrapped tightly around both his palms and how sore
the tips of his fingers were.
“What happened to my hands?” he asked with an urgency that
he didn’t understand himself. Dr Miura seemed to understand the panic behind
his question and smiled reassuringly, “When you were brought in they were
burned, but they should heal. However you won’t be able to perform in public
for a while yet I’m afraid.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Please don’t worry yourself with this now. You should
just concentrate on getting better, Komoro-san.”
He nodded in agreement to this, too tired to really
question what was happening to him. Already the room was beginning to go in and
out of focus and his eyes slipped closed again and he was unwilling to resist
the overwhelming urge to sleep that was upon him.
******
“He woke briefly a little earlier on.”
“How was he?”
“Very confused. He drifts in and out of consciousness more
or less constantly which is a more positive sign.”
“And it is alright if we stay with him?”
“Of course.”
Again, as before, he felt his awareness begin to focus and
strengthen again as this conversation filtered through his sleep filled mind.
He became conscious of the fact that the doctor had left, but he was not alone
in the room. He opened his eyes, feeling stronger and more aware than he was
the last time he had woken. He was still lying on his back, his gaze directed
at the ceiling and, for a few minutes, he did not move, simply allowing himself
to fully awaken to his surroundings. His throat still felt dry, but, whereas
this had been a minor discomfort before, it now bothered him more than not and
he coughed in an effort to clear his throat as one of the people beside him
spoke:
“Seiichi? How are you feeling?” her voice was soft and it
wavered slightly almost as though she was relieved by his wakeful state and,
slowly as his head was still throbbing, he shifted his position on the bed
slightly to glance at the woman seated beside him. She appeared to be in her
late thirties and had obviously been at his side for far longer than he had
been aware of.
Encouraged by his glance in her direction, she again
repeated her question. He was becoming a little tired of everyone doing that.
He didn’t need to be asked everything twice; he just needed a little time to
formulate a response, especially considering his current situation.
“Sore” he answered eventually, unsure, in reality, of how
he was feeling. His head was pounding, but he was reluctant to ask for anything
for the pain for the fear of slipping back into the nothingness of before was
still at the forefront of his mind. His throat was still parched and his hands
were beginning to cause him some discomfort.
Breathing in at a particularly sharp pain in the back of
his head, he started to cough at this sudden intake of breath and this
continued for 30 seconds or so, had he cared to count.
“Tetsuya” the woman requested softly, and the man, whom he
had only just realised was present, came round to the other side of the bed and
helped him to sit up whilst she poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on
the cabinet beside the bed. This time he managed to finish his drink and shook
his head when Tetsuya asked him if he wanted to lie down again. He felt a
little better to be able to sit up and face them both properly.
“Seiichi? Daijobu?” the woman asked, a hint of a frown on
her face when he granted her with no reply.
Exchanging glances with Tetsuya, she leaned forward and
gently touched his arm, causing him to jump and realise that she was actually
addressing him.
“Seiichi?” he repeated softly.
“What happened to me?” he asked, turning to Tetsuya
sensing that he would get an instant answer from the man.
“You were attacked at the studio” Tetsuya answered him,
“You sustained a serious head injury together with some minor bruising and
burns. You’ve been in a coma for the past few days.”
“A coma” he repeated weakly.
“Don’t you remember?”
“No” he whispered as an icy sense of dread gripped at his
soul. Suddenly he found it difficult to breath. It was as though someone had
punched him in the stomach. His hands started to shake as he struggled to
recall something, anything before awaking in this room, but his mind was blank.
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.”
The woman and Tetsuya exchanged glances before Tetsuya stood,
announcing that he would go and find Dr Miura.
Tetsuya left the room as his panic began to increase at
their reactions as he frantically tried to recall anything but it was though a
thick layer of mist shrouded all but his memories of the hospital. All trying
to force things accomplished was to make his headache worse.
Instead he tried to focus on keeping calm, telling himself
that it might be the effects of whatever drugs it was that the doctors had been
giving him but the fear still reined strong, even when the woman wrapped her
arms around him, embracing him gently without speaking.
“Seiichi” he whispered softly, “Seiichi is my name?”
She nodded and drew back from him to add, “I’m Shina, your
mother.”
“And Tetsuya is my father?”
“No. He’s a friend.”
“I see” Seiichi murmured, looking away from her pained
gaze as he struggled to take in this information and get used to his name. His
name, he thought, his panic settling somewhat as he could at least take comfort
in the fact that he now had some identity and that he had family here at the
hospital, too.
“Tetsuya will be back with Dr Miura soon” Shina continued
encouragingly, “And I’m sure that she will explain that your confusion is
temporary and all you need to do is rest.”
Seiichi nodded, but deep down he knew that he could rest
as much as he wanted, but this was not going to simply go away and this
realisation terrified him and he mutely agreed with Shina, wanting to give her
hope at least, when he, himself, had none.
******
“I like being with you, too.”
Minako bit her lip, keeping her gaze focused upon Rei and,
again, she recalled the moment when she had learned that Seiichi could feel
something for her, despite her being a former enemy.
“There’s a Youma” he said, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to
have to go.”
“Where? Let me come with you?”
“I’m sorry” Seiichi said even as he turned to exit the
cafeteria, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Little did she know that a day later he would be…
Swallowing hard to rid herself of the lump that had formed
in her throat, Minako forced away such thoughts and tried to at least
concentrate on why she was here. With Seiichi injured and Kisho unable to
fight, the former Senshi knew that, now so more than ever, they had to obtain
the Senshi Sword if the planet were to have any chance.
Of course, Minako now knew that they themselves were one
friend short. Makoto had explained why Ami was unable to meet them and Minako’s
anger towards Kuroki Mio had deepened. Although she was not as close to Ami as
Rei and Makoto, she was still her friend and Minako hated the thought of her
suffering. Ami and Taro had a relationship that ran deeper than most, having
survived death and rebirth itself. That relationship had been tested time and
time again and then, just when they dared to think that they could have some
happiness, it was taken away from them again. According to Makoto the ordeal
had meant that they were stronger than ever but the loss of a child… Minako
couldn’t begin to imagine what that was like.
Makoto had said that they were both dealing with it as
well as they could under the circumstances, but that it would take time. Of
course, Minako and Makoto both knew that time was something that they were fast
running short of.
“I cannot see it” Rei spoke at last, opening her eyes as
she did so.
“Cannot see it?” Minako echoed softly, “Why not?”
Rei shook her head, “I don’t understand… I can feel the
connection… the energy that the sword possesses but I cannot see it.”
Minako herself had to admit that she had little
understanding of Rei’s natural powers but she was close enough to her friend to
know that Rei knew her limits and, this time, she had quite obviously reached
them. Leaning back against the wall of the shrine, Rei exhaled deeply whilst
cursing softly and Minako was stunned to see some tears in her eyes.
After Rei had told them of what had transpired with Kisho,
Minako knew that she was feeling particularly sensitive and to try to force her
powers now would not be a wise move, that much she did know.
Makoto sensed this too, and made her way to Rei’s side and
placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to give her some comfort.
“Why?” Rei whispered, more to herself than her friends,
“Why can’t I see it? Why can’t I, Makoto? We need this… we need our powers more
so than ever before and I am blind to it? Why?”
“Our powers” Minako murmured, thinking back to their
conversation of before.
“Our powers, in the past life, were not powers that we
were born with. They were imbued upon us when we were fully trained and at an
age where we could assume responsibility. The Senshi Sword, the crux of the
Senshi’s powers, symbolised our faith and trust in each other and the Princess.
The sword was a gift from Queen Serenity. She infused it with some of the
Ginzuishou’s powers in order to create our henshins in the past life.”
“The sword is a gift, it cannot be found
just by want alone” Minako said, unsure of her own words but feeling sure that
she spoke the truth.
“What do you mean?” Makoto asked.
Minako shook her head, “I don’t know. I
think… I think we have to find it ourselves. We have to earn the right to
henshin again.”
“Earn the right” Rei repeated softly and
then nodded, “What must we do?”
“We’ll keep looking” Makoto said
determinedly, sensing that Minako herself had no answer to this and this was
the truth. Obtaining the sword would not be easy, but Minako felt sure that,
together, they could do this, but only if they showed a united front.
“I’ll start the search” Makoto
volunteered, “Rei, will you let Usagi-chan and Ami-chan know what we intend to
do?”
Rei nodded in agreement and then cast a
glance at Minako, “Will you be going to the hospital today?” she asked gently.
Minako shook her head. She had mixed
feelings about going. A part of her wanted to stay by his side, but another
part of her told her that she should stay away. Shina was there almost
constantly and Mamoru-tachi were visiting and Seiichi’s doctor had stated, on
more than one occasion, that whilst he was still unconscious, visiting had to
be restricted. To everyone else, Minako was just a friend of Usagi’s and had no
direct friendship with Seiichi and she had not told anyone that, just before
his attack, she had Seiichi had admitted their feelings for each other. Not
even Rei knew, although she now sensed Minako’s discomfort and added:
“Is it still family only?”
Minako nodded, a little tearfully,
before forcing her emotions to one side and saying, “Mamoru will let us all know
if there is any news. We should concentrate on looking for the sword.”
Rei understood what Minako was really
saying and was in agreement to this. “We must do what we can to help defend the
planet, before it is too late.”
******
“Will you leave me?” Ami asked softly, her arms now around
him, gently, so if Taro wished he could slip free.
“It was my fault.”
“No” Ami bit her lip, but was unable to hold back more
tears, “I don’t blame you. I could never blame you.”
“Ami?”
“Please… stay…”
“I’m sorry” Mamoru said softly as Taro
finished speaking and he looked away, not wanting his friend to see just how
much pain he was in.
Ami was due to go home in a while and
Kanaye and Michie had turned up at the hospital to drive them both back to their
apartment and show their support. Taro had been most grateful for their help
and had taken the opportunity, whilst Ami had someone else with her, to go to
the other end of hospital and tell Mamoru what had happened. It was very
difficult for Taro to speak of it and all the while Mamoru had remained silent,
though the pain in his friend’s eyes was all too noticeable and, as Taro
finished speaking, Mamoru had immediately assumed responsibility for what had
happened.
“This isn’t your fault” Taro reassured him,
“I’ve already blamed myself and so has Ami. At first all I could think of was
who to place the blame on, but, whilst doing that, I wasn’t there for Ami when
she needed me the most. It is easier to concentrate on blaming someone or
yourself, but we need to forget about that. Mio wants us to lash out, to hate
ourselves and each other, and we already have enough of that as it is.”
The younger man raised his head to meet Mamoru’s gaze
before drawing back a hand and punching their leader in the stomach. Mamoru,
not expecting this blow, doubled over, gasping at the force of the blow.
“Daijobu? You bastard! How dare you ask me that?” Masaki
screamed before launching himself at Mamoru.
Taro, expecting this, raced forward and grabbed hold of
his friend, pinning Masaki’s arms at his sides as he continued to scream.
“How dare you? After all we’ve been through! Why did you
lie to me? Why didn’t you tell me what I did?”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you”
Mamoru said sadly, thinking of Masaki.
Taro smiled slightly and shook his head,
“It’s done. We cannot change that, but if we let her, she’ll just keep on
causing us more pain.”
Mamoru couldn’t help but cast a glance
down the corridor, where his other friend lay, as Taro said this and it gave
him cause to ask how he was.
Mamoru shook his head, “I went to see
him first thing and he was still unconscious. I haven’t been back since.
Shina-san said she would come and get me if there is any news. I think its
better that she’s with him for now.”
“I can understand that. How is Usagi
now?”
“You know Usagi” Mamoru couldn’t help
but smile, “She doesn’t like to complain. She’s doing fine.”
“I’m glad.”
Mamoru nodded and looked away. Despite
what Taro had said about blame he couldn’t help but think that…
“Mamoru-kun?”
“Shina?” Mamoru felt his heart skip a
beat when he looked up and saw Seiichi’s mother making her way, a little
hurriedly, towards them. He felt Taro’s hand on his shoulder and Mamoru was
very much aware of just how much he had tensed up at her approach.
“How is he?” he asked, hoping that his
voice betrayed none of the apprehension that he was feeling.
“He’s awake”
He’s awake…
Mamoru couldn’t begin to describe the
relief he felt at that moment. It was as though a great weight had been lifted
from his shoulders, a weight that he had been carrying around with him for days
now.
“Awake” Taro repeated, “And he’ll be
alright?”
“He’s having another scan at the moment,
but hopefully the results will show nothing significant” Shina answered, “He
was a little confused and very tired and will probably sleep for the rest of
the day.”
“Sleep?” Taro echoed, “What does he think he’s been doing for the
last few days?”
Mamoru laughed and shook his head and
even Shina cracked a small smile. “I’m just going back to his apartment to get
him a few things and then I’ll be staying here for the rest of the day.”
As much as Mamoru wanted to see Seiichi
for himself, he decided that it would probably be best if Shina stayed with him
for now. Quietly requesting that Shina tell him that they had been by and would
come to see him tomorrow, Mamoru said his goodbyes and offered to walk with
Taro back to the ward where Ami was due to be discharged from.
“I’ll let Kisho and Usagi know” Mamoru
said as they walked and Taro nodded.
“What about Masaki?” he questioned.
“How dare you? After all we’ve been through! Why did you
lie to me? Why didn’t you tell me what I did?”
“I don’t know”
“He should be told or he’ll feel even
more isolated and hurt,” Taro pointed out.
“I’ll send him a text” Mamoru sighed,
reluctant to even contemplate speaking to Masaki at the moment. He just needed
some time alone to reflect, Mamoru had decided and then, hopefully, he would
come to the conclusion that they all had; that it wasn’t his fault.
Taro, obviously far from satisfied and
not wanting to push the matter, said nothing and started to make small talk in
a bid to defuse the suddenly strained atmosphere.
Mio wants us to lash out, to hate ourselves and each
other, and we already have enough of that as it is
Mamoru joined in with this, not wanting
to make the situation any worse than it already was. Until Seiichi was fully
recovered, Kisho was able to transform again and Masaki had accepted what
Metallia had done using his body in the Dark Kingdom, Mamoru knew that they
would not be able to fight together and this concerned him, it concerned him
much more than he would ever let on.
******
Kisho opened his eyes, still feeling the edge of her mind
touch his own as the Hikawa Shrine vanished from his sight. What he saw was
worse, much worse…
Darkness… all around her… she could hear the screams of
her Princess… her friends… Rei couldn’t breath. She fell to her knees, her own
screams echoing around her as the city burned. Smoke invaded her nostrils,
pouring down her throat and causing her to cough. Fierce spasms shook her body
as her aching fingertips grasped at the ground beneath them, the tips torn and
bleeding, as was the rest of her body.
Unable to fight she was forced to witness this… Tokyo
burned around her… nothing could stop it…
Kisho shuddered slightly, this
recollection again and again replaying over in his mind as he walked down the
streets of Tokyo, frowning each time he was jostled by the rush-hour workers
going home. Concerned for Ayame, he had decided that it would be best if he
collected her from her part time job. Ayame had recently started working in the
café in the local museum, mainly on Monday’s and Friday’s after her college
classes. Kisho had been all too pleased to have the extra income when she
started work but now all he could feel was apprehension at the thought of her
walking home alone, thus he had decided, despite her protests, that he was
going to collect her each day. Ayame might be eighteen but, to Kisho, she was
still his little sister.
Thinking back over Rei’s vision had
reminded him of this and that the fate of the Earth once again rested on the
shoulders of him and his friends. The formed Senshi could have no part in it,
Kisho know knew. Rei had deceived them all and he had intended on letting
Mamoru know this but… something had stopped him making the call. Kisho hadn’t
known exactly what but his instinct was screaming at him to keep it to himself
for a little longer.
Being a great believer in trusting these
instincts, Kisho had decided to listen to this, for the time being at least and
he grudgingly admitted to himself that, looking at how things were at the
moment, the last thing they needed was more dissention. The only thing that
really got through to him was the fact that Usagi-tachi most probably knew
about the vision and he couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, Mamoru did, too.
Kisho did not want to think bad of his friend but, where Usagi was concerned,
Mamoru did not always do the right and most sensible thing.
Turning the corner, Kisho heard his
phone bleep and, upon taking it from his pocket, discovered that he had one
missed call. He hadn’t even realised that it had been ringing, as he had been
lost in these thoughts and the added noise from the commuters around him had
probably droned out the ring tone somewhat.
He was about to call voice mail when he
happened to glance up at the museum which now lay directly in front of him.
There were people clustered outside, both civilians and policemen. The
policemen were trying to move everyone back and out of the way. There were also
a couple of young girls lying on the ground. Even without seeing them closely,
Kisho knew that they were dead.
Forgetting about his phone, he started
to push his way through the crowd as he also struggled to hear what was being
said, from both frightened civilians and the authorities.
An armed robbery… an explosion… a gas
leak… they were just three of the stories going round but Kisho cared little
for that. He pushed further forward, calling for Ayame as he did so whilst
desperately praying that she wasn’t among the victims.
After what seemed an age, his calls were
answered.
“Kisho!” she cried, fighting her way
through some people and appearing before him. Immediately Kisho drew her into
an embrace, thanking the Gods that she was safe.
“What happened?” he then demanded,
knowing that he couldn’t afford to waste anymore time. There was a Youma inside
and it had killed those girls and would kill many more if… if Mamoru-tachi
didn’t stop it.
At that second Kisho realised that he
was powerless to do anything. He couldn’t help. He would have to call Mamoru
and Taro. He couldn’t fight…
“There’s a monster” Ayame whispered
softly so that others couldn’t hear, “It attacked the ground floor. I, and the
other café staff, managed to get out through a fire exit and so did most other
people…” she bit her lip, “Apart from them” she nodded towards the three dead
girls and stifled a small sob.
“Did you know them?” Kisho asked gently
and Ayame nodded.
“They worked in the lobby” she then
shook her head, “But we can’t think about that now” she added with a
determination that Kisho likened to that of Usagi’s, “There’s two more girls
trapped inside. Another girl went in to try and rescue them. That was before
the police arrived. Now they’ve sealed the building off.”
“Another girl?”
Ayame nodded, “I… I think she was one of
Usagi-san’s friends. The tall girl.”
Kino Makoto? The fool… she couldn’t
transform… she’d be killed if she wasn’t dead already.
Looking back towards the building, Kisho
knew that, by the time Mamoru or Taro could get here it would be too late.
“Ayame--” he started but she smiled and
indicated that she already knew what he was going to ask of her.
Stepping away from him, she disappeared
into the crowds. Thirty seconds later, Kisho heard her cry:
“Look over there!”
Kisho did not expect anyone to be fooled
by this, but, as panic was already ensuring, the crowd was more susceptible to
such foolishness and all eyes were on the point in the distance that Ayame had
pointed to.
Taking advantage of this distraction, as
Ayame had intended, Kisho pushed his way to the front of the crowd and, before the
police could intervene, he ducked under the police tape and raced towards the
entrance to the museum.
A few people did notice this and cried
out, giving the police cause to turn round but by this time Kisho had roughly
pulled the door open and raced inside. Ignoring the shouts for him to come
back, he slammed the door behind him and locked it, just to be sure.
Glancing around, he then surveyed the
situation.
Kisho spotted Kino Makoto soon enough.
She was at the back of the lobby, already bleeding from several minor cuts to
her arms and cheek. Behind her were the two girls; their eyes wide with fear as
they looked passed their rescuer to the Youma.
As Kisho watched, it lunged forward
again, raising a scythe above its head to bring it down on Makoto. The brawny
girl reacted quickly, her own blade, a samurai sword taken from one of the
displays, clashing loudly against that of the Youma’s.
Although her blade was underneath the
Youma’s, Makoto still found the strength to push upwards and then swinging her
sword round in readiness for the next assault. This came all too quickly and
she jumped back, being surprisingly nimble for someone of her height. All the
Youma’s sword cut through was air, but Makoto was fast being backed into a
corner and she was very much aware of this.
Kisho looked around the lobby, whilst
also marvelling at her skill. In the past life, Sailor Jupiter had been a keen
swordswoman and could, when Kisho himself had a bad day, be a formidable
opponent.
Spying a similar sword set in a rack on
the wall opposite the battle, Kisho sprinted to it and grabbed a hold of the
handle, confidence suddenly filling him as soon as he felt the sword in his
hand. Again, Makoto parried the next onslaught and was still managing to hold
her own when Kisho entered the battle. She threw the Youma off and it spun
around just as Kisho brought his own blade up. The familiar clang of metal
against metal rang loudly in his ears and, to Kisho’s surprise, he found that,
despite his inability to transform, he had lost none of his skill.
Fast parrying the attack, he then went
on the offensive, forcing the Youma back a few paces, and away from Makoto and
the girls.
Realising what he was doing, Makoto
gathered the terrified civilians and began to lead them towards the exit. The
Youma also saw this and, upon the next clash of their swords, it lashed out
with a hand, allowing dark magics to flow from its palm and straight towards
them. Kisho reacted as swiftly as he could, bringing his sword down hard on the
unprotected left hand of the Youma, cutting it off at the wrist. It screamed
and staggered backwards, but not before landed a painful kick to his stomach.
Kisho was thrown back several feet and
into the reception desk, but he, somehow, managed to retain possession of his
sword. Raising his head, as he gritted his teeth to avoid showing just how much
the blow had hurt him, he saw, with some amazement, that Makoto had reacted
quick enough to block the energy that the Youma had thrown in her direction
with her sword. The energy, helpless imprisoned against the flat side of the
sword, had forced her to her knees, but, as Kisho watched, she slowly got to
her feet. Bracing herself, Makoto let fly the energy straight back at the
Youma.
It gave a cry and was thrown back to
join Kisho on the ground. Sensing his chance, Kisho pushed himself up onto his
knees and raised his sword one last time. The Youma screamed as he embedded the
weapon in its chest. Lashing out, it again caught him a blow around the face
and knocked him back. Kisho felt blood running down his cheek, but at the same
time as the pain he felt a vicious sense of triumph, the kind triumph that, as
Kunzite, he had felt regularly when vanquishing an enemy in battle.
Getting to his feet, and making sure
that the Youma was dead, which it was, Kisho turned to Makoto. The young woman
had already ushered the two girls outside and was in the process of replacing
her sword and closing the double doors. Kisho did likewise and then his anger
set in.
“Baka” he stated coldly, “You cannot
transform. You could have been killed.”
Makoto regarded him coolly, “Likewise,
Tamura-san.”
Kisho bristled at this and grit out, “I
am different from you.”
“Why? Because you are a man? I can fight
just as well in this form, as you saw and, from what I saw, so can you.”
“In our civilian forms we can be
killed.”
“Your Tennou forms are not invincible
either, as we have been proved of late. With the enemy growing stronger we need
everyone who can weald a sword to fight. Your transformation does not dictate
how well you can use a sword, Tamura-san. We were masters of our respective
worlds in our former existence and have lost none of our techniques. Civilians
have died here today. You can see the seriousness of the situation.”
Masters of our respective worlds
She was right, Kisho knew, as much as he
hated to admit it. This was he could fight… this way he could still protect
Mamoru and the planet.
Makoto sensed his agreement but did not
expect a verbal one and Kisho was not going to offer her this, after all she
was still a former Senshi.
“Until we can obtain the Senshi Sword
and restore our powers, I will fight this way and you must, too” Makoto
continued as she turned to exit the museum via the fire escape rather than face
the crowds.
The Senshi Sword…
Kisho could recall Queen Serenity’s
offer of, one day, a second chance for the brainwashed Senshi, but he had
thought it long forgotten by both the girls and their Princess.
I will fight this way and you must, too
And he would fight, Kisho knew. He would
fight and, together with the others, he would protect the future that he had
already died once before for.
******
Act Sixty One Preview:
“So this is your answer? To carry on as normal?”
Masaki leaned back on the sofa and studied the table in
front of them for a moment or two before replying: “What else can I do?”
“You could talk about it? You could try to accept the
situation.”
“Why should I? I think it would be better if I didn’t
fight. If I didn’t see any of you.”
“You want to let Mio win?”
“She came to see me. She told me that I was weak, that I
should have helped Seiichi sooner. That I was a traitor.”
“And what do you think?”
Masaki took a deep breath and looked away, “I don’t know.”
~~~~~
“You won’t hurt them. I won’t let you cause anymore pain.”
Mio laughed bitterly, “And what about my pain?”
“I’m sorry that you’ve suffered, but you are nothing but a
shadow of Beryl’s former existence from the past life. You have no place in
this world and so you try to glorify what you are doing to convince yourself
that you have a purpose when, in actual fact, you have nothing.”
“I’ll have everything!” Mio all but spat at him, “I’ll
have everything that Usagi-chan has and more. I’ll have the planet on its knees
before me.”
“No. You won’t. We’ll stop you.”
“Perhaps you will try but you will fail. My Youma are
stronger than the ones you faced four years ago, Mamoru-kun, and you only have
one Tennou able to fight with you. With Usagi-chan, that makes three of you.
The three of you against the thousands of Youma that I have at my disposal. All
of them waiting for me to issue the command to attack.”
~~~~~~
“And we’ll keep an eye on Usagi” Minako added, nodding to
include Rei in this, “With Mio’s jealousy this strong, who knows what she is
capable of.”
“She would try to get to Usagi again?” Makoto questioned.
Minako nodded, “At the moment her revenge has been focused
on the Shitennou, but when she realises that she is unable to come between
Usagi and Mamoru-san again, she will target Usagi. We must obtain our henshins
before that happens. We must be ready to protect our Princess.”
“And w