Empire of the Sun
by Sophia Prester



Disclaimers: See Chapter One. 

Author's Notes:

A quick reminder: except for a large part of the first season and a 
few other incidents, I'm following the manga continuity. I'll explain 
more at the end if you feel like reading it.



Chapter Nine: Hidden Agendas



Friday, July 6
3:50 p.m.


	"You aren't falling asleep on me, are you, Mamo-chan?" Usa-ko 
teased.

	Mamoru shifted the phone to his other ear. Maybe he should sit 
up instead of lying down on the couch. If he did fall asleep while 
talking to Usa-ko, she'd never let him live it down. "I'm not far 
from it. I didn't get home from the hospital until one in the 
morning, I had to do two hours of reading on the day's cases, and 
then I had to get up at six for a seven-thirty lecture." Sometimes he 
wished he hadn't taken the accelerated path to medical school.

	"Do you still want to go out tonight?" she asked. "If you're 
too tired..."

	Mamoru knew she wouldn't hold it against him if he begged off, 
but he'd still feel guilty. Even though their love had survived both 
death and time, it had never before faced the third year of medical 
school. 

	Far too many of his classmates had gone through breakups thanks 
to the hellish demands of third-year clinical rotations. Couples 
who'd once been joined at the hip now barely spoke to each other. So, 
he went out of his way to spend time with Usa-ko. In return, she had 
learned to become less demanding of the little time he did have. He'd 
never tell her so, but sometimes he was glad that Kenji-san had 
insisted that they wait until next year to get married. Maybe things 
would have settled down by then.

	"I've got an idea. You look at the movie timetable and pick out 
any movie that you want to see..."

	"*Any* movie?" she asked, more than a little doubtfully.

	He winced. The last time he'd made that offer he had slapped so 
many qualifications on "any" that they'd almost ended up not going at 
all. "Yes, *any*, just as long..."

	He heard a sigh at the other end of the phone.

	"Just as long as it starts *after* seven-thirty," he said 
firmly. "I'll pick you up at seven. I reserve the right to sleep--
unmolested--throughout the entire movie. Afterwards, we'll go out to 
dinner. We can stop for an ice-cream before the movie so that you 
don't go insane from hunger."

	"I do *not* go insane from hunger," she huffed, but he could 
hear the smile in her voice.

	"Usa-ko, according to my texts on nutrition and metabolism, you 
are an impossibility."

	"What!!" she screeched.

	"You're far too easy to tease," he laughed. "Still, I shouldn't 
say that you're an impossibility. You're a miracle."

	"Mamo-chan..."

	He must really be tired. Normally, he didn't say these kinds of 
things, and he really should say them more often. It meant so much to 
Usa-ko.

	"You are," he insisted. He didn't know how to explain what she 
had done for him. He could say that she had given him his life, but 
that was too simple a statement to describe how her warmth had filled 
all of the cold, empty corners that had been his life for as long as 
he could remember. It was easy to think these things, but hard to say 
them without feeling like an idiot.

	"You aren't going to make some joke about my being able to pass 
my entrance exams or not, are you?" she asked, trying to drag even 
more kind words out of him.

	"Of course not! If you don't get into college this time around, 
we'll elope and deal with your parents later." He heard her giggle on 
the other end of the line. "I'm sorry we can't do anything more 
exciting than having me sit there and take a nap while you watch a 
movie. I do get a couple of weeks off when you go on summer break. 
The first nice day we have, we'll go to the Imperial Gardens 
together, just you and me."

	"Promise?"

	"Promise. We'll spend the whole day together, and there'll be 
no talk of school or exams or anything else like that." He'd even let 
her go on about wedding plans if she wanted to. Personally, he'd 
rather elope, but he knew that Usa-ko and Ikuko-san would never go 
for it. Neither would the rest of the girls--they were looking 
forward to being bridesmaids. If he even hinted that he was thinking 
of such a thing, Mako-chan would probably hand him his liver on a 
plate.

	"Do you think the roses will still be blooming?" she asked 
wistfully.

	"I'll make sure they are," he said through a yawn, somehow 
certain that he could. Where did *that* idea come from? He'd better 
get off the phone before he started babbling in his sleep. "I'm going 
to take a nap before we go out. Could you do me a small favor? Could 
you call me around six-thirty to make sure that I'm awake?"

	She would. After a few "I love you" exchanges and the 
inevitable two or three last bits of gossip that Usa-ko just *had* to 
tell him, she got off the line so he could get some sleep.

	After a few seconds of listening to dead air, he realized that 
he really should hang up. Once he did that, he let the handset fall 
to the floor beside him. He was just too tired to get up to go across 
the room to put it on the receiver to re-charge.

	It sounded like Usa-ko had stopped stressing about the 
investigation. That was a relief. With a possible new enemy--(what 
did they want *this* time?)--she would have enough to worry about. 
Maybe it would be over soon, he thought drowsily. He didn't even try 
to fight off sleep any more. There would be nothing to worry about 
because pretty soon the police would realize that his parents' death 
was nothing more than an accident...

	*I was six*

	...and that there was nothing more that he could tell them...

	*he wasn't chasing us no he wasn't he wasn't he was a friend he 
would never hurt me hurt us what is he doing why is he doing this 
where are we going mama why are you crying*

	...so they'd eventually give up...

	*auntie gave me a twig and I gave her a rose and she told me I 
was such a good boy such a clever boy but I knew she was mad at me 
why is he chasing us mama why are you crying and the sun was in my 
eyes it was bright so bright it was burning me and then I woke up it 
was my princess my dream girl she gave me a rose and smiled at me she 
had a new baby brother so she gave me a rose and that's when I fell 
in love*

	...and they'd leave him alone. As he fell into sleep, his mind 
carefully shepherded the wayward childhood memories back to the 
shadowy places where even their very existence would once again be 
safely forgotten, leaving him only the memory of a golden-haired 
child handing him a red, red rose. The dangerous memories were put 
away. Once again, if asked what his first memory was, he would only 
be able to tell of moonlight on gold and the scent of roses.



4:00 p.m.


	The next time she saw a maroon station wagon, Saori decided, 
she'd fire an anti-tank weapon at it. 

	Until she'd started slogging through these records, she never 
would have imagined that maroon would be such a popular color for a 
car. At first, she'd been under the impression that they'd find only 
one name that couldn't be traced, and that would lead them magically 
to Mamoru's parents. Wrong. So far she'd found five untraceable 
records and four other vehicles that she'd have to research, and that 
was only after going through half of the printout.

	"Welcome to the exciting world of police work," she grumbled, 
repeating Wright's words for the hundredth time that day.

	"Think of it as archaeology," Keisuke said. Saori fumbled her 
pen. She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.

	"I'm sorry, Takamori-san. I meant no disrespect."

	"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said cheerfully. "It's 
dull, repetitive work, and ninety-nine percent of what you end up 
looking at is completely useless. Still, it's that remaining one 
percent that leads us to solid convictions more than anything else."

	He had a point. Even so, she'd rather be out with Seidou and 
Wright interviewing the social worker who'd handled Mamoru's foster 
care placement. She shivered. She'd always known he was an orphan, 
but she'd never known the circumstances. She'd also assumed that 
whatever it was had happened when he was older.

	He had also never told her that the first six years of his life 
were a complete blank. According to Seidou, his real name had been 
lost along with his parents.

	She had grown up taking the idea of family for granted. To her, 
family was far more than a mother, father, and brother. It was not 
being able to remember when or how she'd learned that she had a great 
uncle whose plane had gone down into the Pacific at the battle of 
Midway, or that her father's family could trace its lineage back over 
four hundred years to some of the most noble houses in all of Japan. 
Although it was no longer in their family, she knew exactly what her 
great-great-grandfather's katana looked like--she could go see it any 
time she liked at the Sword Museum, where it was given pride of place 
as a registered National Treasure.

	Far more important to her, however, were the so-called 'little 
things.' It was seeing in mirrors and photographs that her blue-green 
eyes were exactly like her grandfather's. It was knowing the exact 
location of the house where her grandmother had been born, even 
though it had been destroyed in the 1923 earthquake. Her mother still 
used the vase that her great-grandmother had found miraculously 
intact among the rubble.

	There was hardly anywhere she could go in the city of Tokyo 
where she could not find some reminder of who she was and from where 
she had come. Even the furniture her parents had given her for her 
first apartment had a history. The green card-table with the 
cigarette burn had hosted her grandmother's bridge and mah-jongg 
parties. The sagging couch was the first item of furniture her 
parents had bought as a newly married couple. 

	What would it be like not to have these connections to your 
past? What would it be like not to know who you really were?

	She thought back to her first impression of Mamoru's apartment. 
She'd known that he wasn't the type to have a sloppy bachelor's pad. 
What struck her, however, was how neat and impersonal it was. It was 
a blank slate. A stage set. Even the pieces that were obviously 
second-hand had an unused quality to them. If Mamoru himself had not 
been there to serve them coffee, she would have thought that the 
place was simply an efficiency suite in a nice hotel.

	She shook her head and turned back to the motor vehicle 
records. How could anyone live like that?

	After a few minutes, she realized that she had just flipped 
through three pages of the printout without even reading them. Why 
couldn't they go into Motor Vehicles' current database and pull up 
this information with a simple query? If they did, she might make it 
to the end of the day without going blind.

	"It wouldn't hurt anything," Keisuke said when she asked him. 
He continued to think about it for a moment, twirling a pencil 
between his fingers. "Even so, just keep going through those records 
for now. It might be interesting to see how current records match up 
to those," he said, more to himself than to her.

	She sighed and went back to work.

	Even though the terror of being reprimanded by Seidou had 
probably sheared years off of her life (and even though her current 
task was the grown-up equivalent of standing outside the classroom 
door holding buckets of water), Saori congratulated herself for 
getting involved in this case. There was no way to tell what would 
happen if Seidou got any inkling that this case touched the edges of 
the supernatural.

	Usagi Tsukino was Sailor Moon. Saori knew that, and Mamoru knew 
that. Unfortunately, that was not the only secret that Mamoru was 
keeping. When that red-haired 'foreigner' had attacked them and 
shackled her to a board that had come from out of nowhere, Mamoru had 
shown surprise, but not shock. It was obvious that he *knew* what the 
creature was and what it had wanted.

	She shivered. One thing she would never forget was what it had 
been like to have the protective covering ripped off of her thoughts 
and dreams, and then to have those dreams carelessly pawed through by 
a stranger. She had screamed in horror, but the strange man didn't 
care, if he even noticed at all. Every dream of hers, no matter how 
private or embarrassing or precious was picked up and tossed aside as 
if it was nothing more than a piece of old clothing in a thrift-shop 
bin.

	She remembered bits and pieces she had heard during the fight. 
She learned that what had happened to her had happened to others. 
Who? How many? Did they still suffer from nightmares? Did they 
sometimes wonder if everyone could see right into their innermost 
thoughts and hopes? Did they feel as if their fondest dreams no 
longer shone quite so clearly?

	There were crimes and criminals that the police could never 
hope to deal with--she knew that now. She didn't want to believe in 
monsters and magic and everything that went along with believing in 
these things, but she could not deny what she had seen and 
experienced. Fortunately, there were soldiers out there who could 
fight these things and make sure that justice was done.

	The least she could do was to try to help them by making sure 
that the police didn't interfere with their activities. She'd heard a 
lot of talk about the Sailor Senshi at the station, and not all of it 
was complimentary.

	Besides, she had to help her friend. She didn't allow herself 
to dwell on why she was so eager to help Mamoru or what she hoped to 
gain from it. That dream had been battered enough as it was.

	How to help, though? Seidou would most likely see right through 
any attempt to steer her away from a line of inquiry. The best thing, 
she thought, was to try to get this case closed as soon as possible. 
Everything would be neatly wrapped up, and Seidou would have no 
reason to go after Mamoru and his girlfr... fiancˇe.

	"Keisuke-san, do you think it would hurt anything if I gave 
Mamoru-kun a call?" she asked sheepishly. If she played this right, 
there was a good chance he'd go along with it. "Since I'm an old 
friend of his, he might open up a bit more to me than he would to you 
or to Seidou-san."

	"Well, that would depend on what questions you were planning to 
ask him," Keisuke said, rather slowly. "Also, do you really want to 
risk him thinking that you're using your friendship with him to get 
something?"

	He gave her a pointed look, very much the same kind of look her 
father gave her when she was considering doing something unwise.

	"He knows me well enough to know that I'm only trying to help," 
she said. That came out more defensive sounding than she liked. "I 
know he'd be cooperative if I talked to him."

	Keisuke's expression was almost a parody of that of a man in 
deep thought. He was going to make her sweat over this one. She 
didn't mind. She knew that being a woman in this profession was going 
to be difficult, but she was determined to succeed--and to do so 
without becoming a bitter old spinster like Seidou-san.

	"Please?" she asked as meekly as she could.

	"Oh, why not," he said. His eyes showed kind amusement. "You 
could do with the break. There are a couple of rules, however. Don't 
ask him about the crash itself, or make any references to murder. 
Seidou-san thinks that he might be repressing the memory, and if you 
scare him off even more..." He let the sentence hang, allowing her 
imagination to supply details on all of the awful things that might 
happen should this occur. "Ask him about this Fushiawase place. If he 
thinks we're concentrating on how his paper trail was fudged, he 
might be less anxious."

	"Oh, thank you, Keisuke-san!" She reached for the phone, but 
Keisuke cleared his throat.

	"I'm listening in," he said, picking up his own telephone and 
punching a few buttons. It was clear that this point was *not* 
negotiable.

	Great. Just great. If she backed out, or if she tried to warn 
Mamoru to watch what he said, that would only *increase* the 
likelihood of them thinking that Mamoru had something to hide.

	Keisuke raised one eyebrow as he saw her dial Mamoru's number 
from memory. The phone rang several times, and just as she thought 
the answering machine was going to pick up, she heard a click, a 
clatter, and then a very groggy "Hello? Usa-ko? Is it six-thirty 
already?"

	"Mamoru-kun, it's me--Saori," she said, trying to keep her 
voice level. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

	"Huh? Oh, don't worry about it," he mumbled. "I had to get up 
anyway."

	Liar, she mouthed to a grinning Keisuke. "You'll never guess 
what case I've been assigned to as a research assistant," she said. 
"It turns out that the irregularities in your foster-home placement 
is opening a whole can of worms, bureaucratically speaking." Her 
fingers were crossed. If she could suggested that this was no longer 
a homicide case, maybe he'd be less squirrelly. Keisuke was nodding 
his head in approval.

	"That's weird," Mamoru said. He sounded much more awake. "What 
kind of irregularities are we talking about?"

	"Apparently there's no official record of the first place you 
were sent after your parents' accident. We were hoping that you might 
be able to remember something about the place. According to what 
we've been able to piece together, you spent some time at a boy's 
home--someplace named Fushiawase. That's where the trail ends."

	"Fushiawase? Boy's home?" he said as if it was the first time 
he'd ever heard the name. "What on earth are you talking about? The 
only time I was in an orphanage was for a couple of months back in 
'94, when I was between foster families."

	Saori looked to Keisuke for help, but he only shrugged. "Your 
records say that you weren't placed with the Monou family until 1989, 
*after* you were released from something called the Fushiawase Home 
for Boys."

	"Then the records are wrong."

Saori and Keisuke both rolled their eyes at this remark. Saori 
fought off a fit of the giggles.

	"So you were with the Monou family ever since the accident?"

	Keisuke shook his head. He scribbled a note and held it up for 
her. **Don't suggest answers. Let him talk.**

	"Saori-san..."

	"Mamoru-kun, this investigation might be the one chance you 
have to find out who your parents were. We can't bring them back, but 
wouldn't you at least like to know what kind of people they were, 
what they looked like, and all that?"

	Keisuke mimed playing a violin.

	You're not helping, she mouthed.

	"Saori-san, you have no idea how much time and money I've 
already spent trying to finding that out."

	She refrained from telling him that Seidou already had a neatly 
typed report with just that information, right down to the numbers 
and dates on the checks he'd written to the private investigator.

	"But not with the kind of resources that we have! Please?" she 
wheedled. "For all you know, you may have family out there somewhere. 
You're getting married soon, right? It seems to me like this is the 
kind of thing you'd like to know before the wedding."

	Before the wedding that would have someone else as his bride, 
she told herself firmly. It was funny (well, not really), but every 
time she thought she was over him, something would happen to re-
kindle that little flame of hope. It wasn't fair to her, it wasn't 
fair to him, and it sure as heck wasn't fair to Kobayashi.

	Saori pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and 
forefinger. She closed her eyes in frustration. Mamoru wasn't hers. 
Why couldn't she just let go of this one part of herself that still 
insisted on being in love with him? She refused to listen to that 
traitorous whisper that reminded her that engagements could be 
broken.

	"There was another family," Mamoru said slowly. He sounded like 
he was figuring all this out as he went. "I was with them before I 
went to live with the Monous."

	Keisuke gave her a V-for-victory sign. She thought about what 
to ask next, but Keisuke held one finger to his lips. "Let him talk," 
he whispered.

	The next few seconds were agonizing.

	"I can't remember their family name," Mamoru finally said. She 
wished he wouldn't sound so defeated. She was only trying to help 
him, after all. "I do remember that we could see Tokyo from the back 
deck. I... I think that we could see the city from across the water. 
It was a three-story house, brick, with big white pillars in front. I 
remember that because it was the first time I'd seen anything like 
that outside of a movie." He laughed. "I actually thought it was a 
palace."

	Keisuke reached across to Seidou's desk and grabbed a road 
atlas. He flipped through the maps until he found one that showed the 
entire area surrounding Tokyo Bay. He began tracing one finger down 
the eastern coastline of the bay.

	She continued to jot down notes. "I guess it would seem that 
way to a six-year-old," she said. "Anything else?"

	Keisuke scribbled another note and handed it to her.

	**Geography. Architecture. Trees, light, other houses, rds, 
ldmrks, how much H20, directly on H2O, noise, etc.**

	She nodded her understanding. Keisuke continued to study the 
map while Saori asked questions. From time to time, he would make a 
pencil mark on the map. This was more like a conversation than an 
interrogation, she thought. A gradual picture of the Fushiawase Home-
-if that's what the place was--put itself together in her mind. It 
was on a piece of forested land with a steep hill leading right down 
to a narrow and rocky beach. He couldn't recall seeing any tourists 
there. The bricks of the house were mellowed with age, almost pink, 
and it had what she gathered was a mansard roof with a railing along 
the top. There were no other houses that he could see from the 
property. 

	There were gardens, and she had to smile at his enthusiastic 
recollection of a fountain, of hedges that had been trimmed to look 
like animals and of an orchard that had apple, pear, and plum trees. 
He was amazingly vague about the flower gardens, although it sounded 
like those took up the majority of the property. He didn't get any 
more specific about the flowers except to say that there were "lots." 
They probably hadn't interested him as much as the circus-like 
topiary and an orchard full of fruit free for the taking. Typical 
guy, she thought.

	Keisuke seemed puzzled by something, but shook his head when he 
caught her questioning glance. Oh well, if it was important, he'd 
tell her later. Maybe.

	Mamoru also mentioned being able to see a mountain from the 
house, and said that he had visited this mountain a couple of times. 
When he said that it appeared that he could see the whole world from 
this mountain, Keisuke got visibly excited, but once again shook his 
head when she tried to get him to tell her what was going on.

	As soon as she started to ask him about the people he'd lived 
with, his answers became shorter and sharper. He was beginning to 
sound downright hostile when Keisuke slashed his hand across his 
throat. Cut that line of inquiry. She asked a few more questions 
about the place itself and he calmed down, but he was running out of 
things to tell her.

	"I remember something else," he said just as she was about to 
give up. "A gate. There was a high, brick wall with a gate that 
always made me think of a bed frame for some reason. The gateposts 
had statues on top. Damn! I keep picturing them as being like the 
lion-dogs that guard a shrine gate, but I know that's not right. 
Saori-san, I don't mind telling you all of this, but I don't see how 
it's going to help you."

	"Maybe we'll get lucky," she said. "I really, *really* 
appreciate this, Mamoru-kun! I hope I can find something out about 
your family for you."

	Once she was off the phone, Keisuke slid the atlas across the 
desk to her. One city, across the bay from Tokyo proper, had been 
circled in red marker.

	"Kisarazu?" she asked. It was due south of Tokyo, and east and 
a little bit south of Yokohama. Both cities were separated from 
Kisarazu by Tokyo Bay. She chuckled when she saw that Keisuke had 
underlined the prefecture label for "Chiba" on the map. Someone had 
an interesting sense of humor, she decided.

	"I'm actually thinking about that little spit of land that 
points across the water towards Yokohama," Keisuke said, tapping his 
finger on the map. "To a six year old, a city is a city. He might not 
have known the difference between the two places. The mountain is 
what twigged it for me. From the way he described it, it sounds like 
he's talking about Nokogiri. It's not far from the water, and on a 
clear day you get the most amazing view from the top--pretty much the 
entire Tokyo area and a good chunk of the Boso Peninsula."

	As Keisuke called the Kisarazu police department with a 
description of the house, Saori traced the two-dimensional coastline 
slowly. She should be thrilled by how much they'd discovered, but she 
couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow betrayed one of her 
dearest friends.



5:10 p.m.


	It was too nice of an evening to stay inside, and it was 
*definitely* too nice of an evening to be studying. Makoto looked 
through her dresser drawer for just the right tee-shirt to wear to 
the park. Nobody had made any plans for that night. Well, Usagi was 
doing something with Mamoru, but that was only to be expected on one 
of his rare free nights.

	Makoto pursed her lips when she thought about her friend. Usagi 
had said very little about what happened at the shrine last night. At 
lunch, when Ami asked her how she was doing, Usagi laughed off the 
previous night's events, flapping her hand as if shooing the question 
out the door.

	"Oh, don't worry about me!" she'd said. "I still can't believe 
that I acted like such a loony-bird! It seems like I'm always doing 
something to embarrass you guys, doesn't it?"

	The usual round of protests and denials followed this, then the 
topic shifted back to entrance exams, and the 'party' at the Hikawa 
Shrine on Saturday. While Minako and Ami discussed Sailor Sun in 
guarded terms, Makoto kept an eye on Usagi. Her friend was paying 
unusually close attention to the conversation about this new Senshi, 
but at the same time, she seemed to be thinking of something else. In 
afternoon classes, Usagi appeared to focus intently on what the 
teacher was saying, but Makoto could tell that her mind was somewhere 
else--not daydreaming, but working through some thorny problem.

	When Usagi figured it out, or if she decided she needed help, 
Makoto told herself firmly, she would tell her friends what was going 
on. In the meantime, there was little sense in worrying about 
something she couldn't do anything about. She should just be glad 
that Usagi wasn't acting all shaky and fragile the way she'd often 
been over the past year.

	Makoto finally found a suitable shirt--white and cropped with 
three sunflowers lined up across the chest. Dark green shorts and 
some flower-sprigged ankle socks completed the ensemble. She was only 
going to the local park to shoot a few hoops, but she wanted to look 
nice just in case any eligible guys happened to be in the area.

	Not bad, she thought after checking in the mirror for a third 
time. Athletic, yet sweet. Just the impression she wanted to give.

	She shoved her basketball into her gym bag and headed out 
towards the park, hoping to find a pick-up game in progress, or at 
least a couple of people who were hanging around waiting for one to 
start.

	No such luck. The two basketball courts at the park were 
completely deserted. A little further in the distance, some people 
were playing volleyball. She started to wander down that way, but 
then she noticed that the players were a mix of adults and kids. She 
saw an array of picnic baskets and strollers on the hillside 
overlooking the court, and grandfathers, mothers with babies, and 
others chatting and watching the game. She sighed and pulled out her 
basketball. Wheedling her way into a casual game was one thing. 
Crashing a family picnic was something else altogether.

	Well, someone might show up, she supposed. She shot a few half-
hearted free throws between longing gazes at the family gathering. 
Occasionally she heard a peal of laughter. Maybe someone over there 
would spot her and take pity on her. Sometime this summer, she vowed, 
she would organize a picnic for the others. She could invite Motoki 
and Unazuki, and maybe even Asanuma and what's-her-name from Rei's 
school. They could all relax and have fun together without worrying 
about keeping any secrets.

	"Waiting for a game to start up?" someone asked from behind 
her.

	Makoto nearly fumbled the ball. She turned to see who it was. A 
tall blond man stood at the other end of the court. He looked 
familiar, but she couldn't place him at first. She thought she 
remembered meeting him, but he'd been wearing a suit, not a tee shirt 
and shorts.

	He walked over towards her. "I believe we met the other day, 
when I was looking for Seidou-san's apartment," he said just as she 
recalled how they'd met. He held out a hand in Western-style greeting 
and reintroduced himself. "Jason Wright."

	Makoto tucked the ball under one arm and shook his hand. 
"Makoto Kino." Her mind whirled as she wondered what to do. If she'd 
guessed right, this was one of the people who was after Mamoru. She 
shook her head. Well, that was a rather harsh way of putting it. 
According to Mamoru, the whole incident was over nothing, but she 
wondered how much of that was true.

	"What brings you here?" she asked, hoping it sounded friendly. 
If he wasn't here to press her for information on something, there 
was no point in scaring him off. He was kind of cute, and he seemed 
to be nice enough.

	He shrugged. "I was going to go for a run before heading back 
to my host family's place, and I saw you out here shooting hoops all 
by yourself." He pulled on a lock of his hair and grinned. "I thought 
I recognized the pony-tail."

	She smiled back, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest. 
Should she ask him if he wanted to play?

	Unbidden, he held out his hands, silently asking her to pass 
him the ball. She did, and he caught the ball neatly. It was in his 
hands for barely a second before he launched it into a graceful arc. 
The ball swished through the net without even touching the rim.

	Makoto caught the ball, and dribbled back to center court. She 
tried to make the same shot, but the ball bounced off the rim. Wright 
ran after it and walked back, dribbling the ball casually. She was 
able to get a good look at the picture on his white tee shirt--a 
tough-looking cartoon tortoise with a red letter "M" on its chest.

	"Is that from an American sports team?" she asked. Okay, she 
thought. Casual conversation is good.

	Wright looked puzzled, then glanced down at his shirt. 
"Terrapins," he said. "It's the mascot for the University of 
Maryland. I played basketball for them for a couple of years."

	She could see the flash of pride in his eyes. Was college-level 
basketball that big a deal in the States? She took another look at 
the cartoon on his shirt.

	"Terrapin? That looks more like a turtle to me."

	"It's a *kind* of turtle." He jumped and lobbed in another 
effortless three-point shot.

	She caught the rebound and passed the ball back to him. "They 
named a basketball team after a turtle?" She envisioned a tortoise 
nosing a ball slowly down the court.

	"Those who name baseball teams after carp shouldn't point 
fingers," he said. Without warning, he chest-passed her the ball.

	She caught it smoothly, bounced it a few times, then headed 
straight in towards the basket with Wright in close pursuit, then 
blocking her. She dodged around him at the last second to sink a 
jump-shot. Even so, his fingers brushed the ball as it rolled over 
the rim. He scooped up the rebound almost without thinking about it.

	"Pretty good," he said. He dribbled up towards her, planning to 
tease her with the ball, but she knocked it away from him and sank 
another shot.

	"*Very* good," he amended. He passed her the ball and watched 
as she made a jump shot from outside the three-point line. He let her 
make two more perfect shots, then jumped up and intercepted the next 
one before it hit the basket. "Do you play for your school team?"

	Damn. For a moment she'd hoped he had forgotten that she was in 
high-school. "No, there's no time, not with having to take care of my 
own place and get ready for college. The gardening and cooking clubs 
suck up what little free time I normally have," she said. He didn't 
need to know about her *other* extracurricular activities.

	Dodge. Feint. He tossed the ball up with only one hand and 
watched with satisfaction as it fell neatly through the basket. 
Makoto beat him to the ball and nearly crashed into him as she 
swerved to make another shot. This one rolled along the rim, then 
fell neatly into Wright's hands. He smiled at her as he bounced the 
ball slowly.

	"You played guard, didn't you?" she asked. The only reason 
she'd been able to dodge him was that she'd honed her skills fighting 
youma and daimon. Misreading one of their moves could mean losing 
your life, not just a couple of points.

	"Yup." He dashed towards her, then danced around her, keeping 
the ball in motion, always managing to shift position as she was 
about to swipe the ball. He spun and scooped the ball into an arcing 
shot as he turned. It swooshed through the basket so neatly that the 
net barely moved. "Not quite good enough to go pro, however."

	He could have fooled her. "So that's why you became a 
policeman, huh?"

	He tapped his finger to his nose. "Got it in one. I must have 
told you about that when we ran into each other before," he said a 
little ruefully.

	It sounded to her as if he'd been hoping she'd forgotten that 
little bit of information. Makoto decided that it was time to up the 
stakes a little bit. Otherwise, she might forget that getting 
interested in this guy was probably not the smartest thing she could 
do. "It's funny, but a good friend of mind said that a couple of 
detectives came to talk to him the other day. He said that one was a 
woman, and the other was an American."

	He held out his hands, signaling for her to pass him the ball 
again. "Want to play to twenty-one?" he asked. "This friend of yours 
wouldn't happen to be Mamoru Chiba, would it?"

	She walked up to him, handing over the ball instead of passing 
it. She considered him for a moment. "Twenty-one? I can live with 
that. And yeah, Mamoru-kun's a friend of mine. He's not in any 
trouble, is he?"

	"Nah. This is a cold case--fourteen years old," he said. He 
backed away, shielding the ball as Makoto's hands snaked and darted 
after it. "He would have been only six, seven at most."

	He sank a three point shot. Makoto grimaced. She hoped this 
wouldn't be a shut-out. They struggled for possession of the ball, 
and thanks to what was probably a foul, Makoto got hold of it and got 
herself two points.

	"So what's the case about, Wright-san? Mamoru said it had 
something to do with what happened to him after his parents' death, 
but I kinda get the idea that there's more to it than that."

	"Could be." He tried to get the ball, but Makoto was shielding 
it in a way that any real attempt to get at it would probably end up 
with someone being slapped hard across the face. "There were what 
you'd call 'suspicious circumstances' surrounding the accident."

	That caught Makoto by surprise. Was that why Usagi had looked 
so haunted for the past couple of days? She made another shot, and 
held her breath as the ball teetered on the rim before falling 
through the basket. "Hah! I'm ahead! So, what do you mean by 
suspicious?"

	This time, Wright got to the ball before she did. He outran 
her, jumping up for another three-point shot. "What was that about 
being ahead?" he teased.

	Makoto grinned. He wasn't trouncing her--he could have, she 
could tell--but he wasn't cutting her any slack, either. She could 
win this little gamble, but only if she played at her best.

	"What do I mean by suspicious?" he said. Because he was talking 
to her, he missed the next shot. "There's not much I can tell you 
about that. I probably shouldn't have said anything."

	"Oh, come on!"

	He shook his head. "Sorry. Not allowed. Seidou-san would flay 
me and nail my hide to the police station door if I said too much. I 
can tell you, however, that there was something funny about his 
foster care placement. How long have you known Chiba, anyhow?"

	"A little more than three years," she said.

	"How did you two meet?"

	Makoto got hold of the ball, and made another shot. Wright 
blocked it, and the ball went flying off the court and into the 
nearby playground. She giggled as Wright sprinted after it. He didn't 
look too bad from this angle, either.

	"You need to make another basket before I can answer that!" she 
said.

	"Oh, is that how we're playing?" he said. His eyes twinkled 
with mischief. From the edge of the court he tossed the ball and sank 
another three-point shot. "Well?"

	She caught the rebound and sighed theatrically. "Fine. *Be* 
that way! He's engaged to one of my best friends. They'd met each 
other right before I moved here."

	"Wow, two answers for the price of one!" he teased. Just for 
that, she punted the ball, soccer-style, and watched him go tearing 
off after it.

	*Definitely* good looking, she thought. She hoped he had 
nothing to do with this new enemy they might be facing.

	At Makoto thirteen, Wright sixteen, the tone of the questions 
began to shift. Makoto flatly refused to divulge any more gossip 
about one of her dearest friends, and Wright kept reminding her that 
he could only tell her so much about an official case, but they'd 
fallen into the rhythm of asking a question for each basket made.

	Two points for Makoto. "You speak better Japanese than some of 
my friends. Did you study in college?"

	"I grew up in Yokohama. I was a Navy brat." Two points for him. 
"It's hard to believe you're only in high-school..."

	Oh, rub it in, why don't you! she thought.

	"... especially since you're on your own and everything."

	It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway since he'd 
gotten the points. "My parents died in a plane crash when I was 
eight," she said. "I've been on my own since I was thirteen."

	He caught the ball and stood still for a moment, studying her. 
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to..."

	She shrugged. Thinking about her parents brought with it the 
usual leaden feeling in her heart, but the grief grew lighter and 
lighter with each passing year. "It's okay. You had no way of 
knowing."

	She made another three-point shot, bringing her score up to 
eighteen, tying the game and earning herself another question.

	There were several questions she wanted to ask but couldn't. 
Did he think she was *too* young? Did he have a girlfriend back in 
the States? What made him decide to stop and talk to her?

	"So, are you going to ask me a question or not?"

	"I'm thinking! I'm thinking!" Then, finally, "So what do you do 
when you're not being a cop?"

	He laughed softly. "Oh, lots of things. Fishing, basketball, 
puttering around with old sports cars, playing with the dog, fixing 
stuff around the house, your typical guy stuff, I guess."

	He sauntered towards the basket, making an easy two point shot. 
Interesting, thought Makoto. He could have made a three-pointer and 
ended the game.

	"What do you plan to do once you're through with school?"

	"I want to run a florist shop or a bakery," she said 
automatically. "I keep trying to figure out some way I can do both."

	What I really plan to do is serve my King and Queen, she 
thought silently. I am the Senshi of Protection, and that is greater 
than any dreams of bouquets or fancily iced cakes.

	For just a moment, she wondered what would happen if she told 
him the truth. He was a policeman, wasn't he? He of all people should 
understand what it was to live your life for the sake of protecting 
others.

	"I bet you *could* do both, if you really wanted to. I saw all 
of the plants out on your balcony--and if you've got any more cookies 
in need of a loving home, I think I might be able to help you out. It 
would be a great sacrifice," he said, his hand over his heart, "but I 
would gladly give of myself for the cause."

	She was laughing so hard that she muffed her next shot. Wright 
scooped up the ball and casually lobbed it into the basket to bring 
the score to 22-18. She could live with that score, especially since 
she would have won if that last shot had gone through.

	He passed the basketball back to her. "That was a good game," 
he said. "You're a pretty smart player."

	"Really?" she said. She actually batted her eyelashes at him 
which made him laugh. "Are you talking about basketball or 
questions?"

	"Both," he said. He took a close look at his shirt, then 
actually lifted one arm to give an experimental sniff. "That was more 
of a workout than I expected," he said. "I'd better run home and get 
cleaned up."

	Makoto bounced the ball slowly. That was it? He was leaving? 
After just one measly game? Maybe she could suggest that they meet 
again at some other time...

	"Um, I don't mean to be too forward or anything, but I enjoyed 
talking with you" he said hesitantly, as if trying to make up his 
mind about something, "I was thinking--if you'd like, that is--that I 
could go get cleaned up, meet you back at your place in about an hour 
or so and we could go get a cup of coffee or even something to eat. 
You up for that?" he asked, and he had the shyest, sweetest look on 
his face. "My treat, of course."

	She blinked in surprise, then she could feel a broad smile 
spread across her face. Part of her was gibbering wildly, wondering 
what on earth to say, but there was only one real answer.

	"Sure!"



6:13 p.m.


	He was surrounded by water. The light was dim and green, up and 
down were twisted every which way, and all he could hear was the 
sound of water rushing into an enclosed space. Something held him 
down. He tried to get free, but all he could do was flail his arms 
and legs.

	Mamoru rolled over on the couch and groaned.

	The image shifted. He could move, and he was no longer trapped 
in a small space, but he was still underwater. He was battered and 
exhausted, and his waterlogged cape dragged him down towards the 
bottom of Tokyo Bay. His lungs burned from lack of air. Any moment 
now, he'd give up fighting the urge to breathe and he'd gasp in the 
filthy water. It was inevitable, but he vowed to hold out as long as 
he could.

	A greenish-golden light sped towards him. A man floated in the 
center of the light--a fair-haired man in a gray uniform. The man 
smiled, but it was a cruel smile, and energy pooled around his hand 
as he readied a deadly strike. Mamoru tried to gather his own power 
for one last defense, or even an attempt at escape, but he knew that 
he was going to die down there in the poisoned waters...

	His eyes flew open. He saw nothing more threatening than the 
white stucco of his ceiling. For a moment or two he just lay still, 
gasping for air as if he had in fact just escaped from drowning. 

	It had been a long time since that particular dream had paid 
him a visit. 

	He checked his watch. Usa-ko would be calling in about fifteen 
minutes, so it wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep. He got up and 
went to the kitchen, replacing the cordless phone on the receiver on 
his way. What on earth had triggered that dream? It could have been 
Saori's unexpected call. One good thing had come of that--he could 
now assure Usa-ko and Artemis that this was only a matter of some 
mismanaged paperwork. Even though he'd suspected all along that this 
thing about his parents was a big fuss over nothing, he still felt 
absurdly relieved.

	Maybe he'd had the dream because they were on the brink of 
facing another enemy. After all, the last time he dreamed about that 
final battle with Jadeite was during the struggle against the Dead 
Moon Circus, when Elysion's fall had cast a shadow over his lungs, 
filling them with Neherenia's corruption and nearly choking the life 
out of him.

	Why would he dream about *that* battle, out of all the battles 
he'd fought? He'd fought enemies that were a hell of a lot more 
frightening than Jadeite.

	The memory of being trapped in a seat underwater flickered 
across the front of his mind, but it was forgotten again just as 
quickly.

	He wavered between fixing a pot of coffee or brewing a cup of 
tea. Tea, he decided. After that dream, he needed to calm down as 
well as wake up.

	During that last fight, when the two of them had plunged into 
the waters of Tokyo Bay, he'd only felt a need to defeat his enemy, 
this man who was standing in the way of his quest for his own 
identity and that of the woman in his dreams. He was pretty sure that 
he'd felt despair as he realized he was going to die with all of his 
questions unanswered, but now that those questions were mostly 
answered, it was hard to summon even a ghost of what he had felt on 
that day.

	He watched the kettle. As the water heated, the kettle rocked 
on its warped bottom. He really should replace it, he thought for the 
hundredth time.

	These days, the memory felt entirely different. It wasn't an 
enemy he fought, but a man who'd once been one of his best friends. 
As close as brothers, he thought, but the phrase was no more than a 
clichˇ. He had no family, so the words themselves didn't really mean 
anything to him. It was still the best way he could think to explain 
the aching sense of loss he felt whenever he recalled that cruel 
smile.

	He poured the now-boiling water into a cup, and drank most of 
it down before even noticing that he'd forgotten to put in the tea 
bag. Strange, he thought, but his past-life friends hadn't seemed to 
recognize him. How had they come forward into this time, anyway? Had 
they been put into a cold sleep like Luna and Artemis, or had they 
been reborn along with him and the Senshi? His weary mind drifted 
from thought to thought as he made another attempt at tea, this time 
remembering to add the essential ingredient.

	Hold on a moment... One thought managed to cut through the fog. 
It was something he hadn't really thought about before. He replayed 
the fight with Jadeite in his mind. How *had* he escaped drowning? 
Something had happened at the last minute. Yes. That was it. He 
remembered, now.

	He saw it clearly. The cruel smile on Jadeite's face froze, and 
the blue eyes grew wide. The smile faded to an expression of shock 
and confusion. The next thing Mamoru knew, he was clutching onto a 
piling at the bay's edge, gasping for breath.

	Had Jadeite's memory started to return at the last moment? Had 
that moment's hesitation simply bought him enough time to escape, or 
had Jadeite actually spared his life at the last second? Too bad he 
would never know for sure. Mamoru took a sip of tea and thought about 
the other times he had fought against his former friends.

	The battles with Zoisite had been particularly vicious, he 
recalled, and even now he felt a rush of fury as he thought about the 
effeminate general. Why? At the time, he'd fought the others simply 
because they were 'the enemy.' When he'd fought Zoisite, he fought 
out of a rage that went far beyond the fact that they were both after 
the Crystal. What was different in that particular case? Why did that 
betrayal seem so much worse than the others?

	Mamoru drank down the rest of his tea in one painful gulp. He 
thought back to the last time he'd seen Zoisite, up in Tokyo Tower. 
Zoisite had tried to kill Sailor Moon, but instead ended up spearing 
Tuxedo Kamen through the back.

	He remembered, just barely, the stunned look on Zoisite's face. 
At that moment, he had actually felt deeply sorry for the man. 
Zoisite hadn't just been surprised--he'd been horrified.

	Had Zoisite remembered who and what he was, and realized what 
he had done?

	Mamoru shook his head violently, as if trying to cast the 
thoughts from his head. He only had a few flashes of memory about the 
four as they once had been. He could remember the bond between cool, 
distant Kunzite and merry, impulsive Zoisite, and how contrary to 
what one might expect, Kunzite was the one of the group who felt 
things the most keenly, while Zoisite's normal whimsy could give way 
in a second to cold, ruthless logic. Then, there was the air of 
mystery and otherworldliness that hung over Nephrite like a cloak, 
and the wry sense of humor that colored everything Jadeite did or 
said.

	It was impossible to think about them without a million 'what 
ifs' or 'if onlys' running through his mind. What if the Senshi had 
known who these men really were? If only they had been able to get to 
Nephrite before Zoisite's youma had killed him. If only he had not 
lost so much of his memory. What if Jadeite or Zoisite had truly 
started to remember who they were before it was too late? It went on 
and on and on.

	The phone rang, startling him out of his reverie. He picked up 
the phone, but all he heard was a dial tone. So why was it still 
ringing?

	Because it was the doorbell, not the phone. So much for being 
awake and alert. He put the phone back down and opened the door.

	"Usa-ko?"

	She stepped inside and kicked off her shoes. Her arms were 
full, so she stood on tip-toe and kissed him instead of giving him 
her usual bear-hug. She missed a little, just catching the corner of 
his mouth.

	She wrinkled her nose. "You need to shave," she said. Then, she 
smiled. "I hope you don't mind my coming over instead of calling, but 
you sounded like you didn't really want to go out."

	Mamoru eyed the covered dish that she held carefully in front 
of her. "Is that what I'm hoping it is?"

	"Uh-huh! Mom fixed us something to eat. It was her idea that I 
let you off the hook for tonight." She put the dish on the coffee 
table and shrugged her tote bag off her shoulder. "I brought a couple 
of movies so you can pick the one you hate the least. If you don't 
mind me staying, that is."

	He rested his hands on her shoulders, then lifted one hand so 
he could trace his fingers down her delicate jawline. "I think I can 
work you into my schedule," he said softly. He pulled her into an 
embrace and rested his cheek on top of her head, breathing in the 
sweet honeysuckle scent of her hair.

	His friends and family may have been stripped away from him, in 
both this life and the last, but at least he still had this, the most 
important thing he could have in either life.


						#  #  #


	Usagi had the television on mute. It didn't bother her much, 
since she'd seen this movie twice already. Besides, she was much more 
interested in Mamo-chan. She looked down at him fondly and played 
gently with his hair, being careful not to wake him up.

	He'd managed to stay awake long enough to eat dinner and watch 
the first fifteen minutes of the movie. Now he was sound asleep with 
his head pillowed on her lap. His uncombed hair and faint shadow of 
stubble at first made him look adorably scruffy, but as she studied 
him, her serene smile faded to a frown. The circles under his eyes 
were so dark that they looked like bruises. 

	Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but it seemed to her 
that his cheekbones stood out more sharply than they had a week or so 
ago. She let out an exasperated sigh. If she asked him if he'd lost 
weight, he'd only deny it vehemently, the way he had been denying 
everything else lately.

	Did he really think she needed to be protected *that* much? Did 
he honestly believe that simply insisting over and over that 
everything was all right would keep her from worrying?

	Just two years ago, she would have nagged him mercilessly, 
trying to get him to tell her what was wrong. If that didn't work, 
she might even have started snooping around on her own. She'd end up 
convincing herself that he no longer loved her--maybe he hated that 
they were 'destined' to end up with each other. Did he feel trapped 
by the future they were to have together? The worst times were when 
she started to wonder if he'd fallen in love with someone else. 
Sometimes, she even grew paranoid about the friendships he'd 
developed with Ami, Mako-chan, and Setsuna. What if he'd decided that 
he liked one of them better than he liked her? And so on. 

	She felt her stomach twist into a knot. She *had* over-reacted 
in the past, hadn't she? Flying into a panic, acting as if it was the 
end of the world every time Mamo-chan was a little abrupt with her, 
behaving like a jealous witch whenever he spent time alone with 
ChibiUsa, spying on him, looking for a possible insult in every 
little thing. She swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in her 
throat.

	And now she had come here tonight, armed with food and movies, 
ready to wheedle the truth out of him, or failing that, to raise the 
stink to end all stinks. How nice of her.

	She'd had every determination to *make* him admit that there 
was more to his parents' death than he was letting on. She was going 
to *make* him see that all this might be connected to the dreams they 
were having of the past.

	Not now, though. And not in the way she had planned. Artemis 
had been right--forcing the issue with him wouldn't help in the 
least.

	Through her connection to Mamo-chan, she could feel the 
exhaustion pressing down on him like a lead blanket. She brushed a 
stray bit of hair away from his face, wishing she could also brush 
away his fatigue.

	If only she could simply throttle him into admitting what was 
going on. It probably wouldn't work, but it *would* go a long ways 
towards easing her frustration.

	She'd just have to go with the plan that she, Artemis, and Luna 
had cooked up the other day. Luna had approached Rei and asked if she 
could meet with her, Mamoru, and Usagi on a little before Sailor 
Sun's arrival to talk about whatever it was that Rei had found out 
about the detectives. If something big was going on, the cats said, 
it would be best if they found out about it before they got involved 
with this so-called 'Sailor Sun.'

	She had talked him into going out for a walk and stopping by 
Rei's for some tea before their meeting. It didn't take much--he was 
feeling guilty enough as it was about their scaled-back date. All she 
had to do was mention that it would be nice to see him during 
daylight for a change, and he caved in. He had a meeting with his 
advisor at three, but the morning was hers.

	So, it was a little manipulative of her. She'd done worse in 
the past, so she shouldn't being feeling guilty, right?

	When she'd spoken to Artemis about Mamo-chan, the cat agreed 
that they needed to do *something*. The cat was prepared to swear on 
each of his nine lives that Mamoru had sensed something when he met 
the two detectives. Now, for whatever reason, Mamo-chan was just as 
vehement as writing it off as 'nothing important.' In fact, he barely 
remembered that he'd felt anything in the first place! No matter how 
much this something bothered Mamo-chan, she couldn't afford to ignore 
it.

	One year ago, she had watched helplessly as Mamo-chan... as 
Galaxia... She shook herself so fiercely that Mamo-chan mumbled 
something and shifted a bit. Even now, she could barely bring herself 
to acknowledge what she had seen with her own two eyes. It was so 
much easier to pretend that it had never happened. 

	If nothing had happened, she kept telling herself back then, 
she could go on putting one foot in front of the other and getting on 
from day to day, imagining that there was nothing more than the bulk 
of the planet between her and Mamo-chan. It hadn't taken long before 
she could actually remember watching Mamo-chan as he headed down 
towards airport security. If asked, she would have been able to 
recount even the smallest details--the way he had his coat slung over 
his shoulder, how he had looked back one last time with a sad smile 
and waved a final good-bye, what it felt like to stand there and 
watch as he disappeared down the long corridor and into the throng of 
other travelers.

	Usagi twisted her engagement ring round and round her finger as 
she thought about Setsuna, and the sudden hope she had seen in the 
older woman's eyes. Setsuna had never mentioned that she had known 
Queen Serenity, or spoken about Hyperion, Delphine, the Eunomia, or 
any of the others. The others had asked why, but Usagi said nothing.

	She was pretty sure she knew why Setsuna had never said 
anything, or why she had never reached out to them for comfort.

	Just a year ago, she herself had refused to reach out to her 
own friends after Mamo-chan had...

	A few tears caught in her eyelashes and she brushed them away. 
The constant ache of those days hadn't really left her, not even 
after everyone had been returned safe and sound from the Galaxy 
Cauldron. The ache had been with her ever since Seiya forced her to 
look back at her own memories, to shatter the brittle fantasy she had 
built for herself, and acknowledge what had happened.

	She couldn't bring herself to do something like that to Mamo-
chan, not yet, but she was determined to find out what was going on.

	More importantly, if there was an enemy, she was going to find 
out what she had to do to stop it.

	Sometimes, she felt as if the Ginzuishou shouldn't be kept in a 
heart-shaped locket. Given the number of power-mad beings that had 
come after her because of it, she often thought that having the 
crystal in a big bulls-eye pinned to her chest might be a more 
appropriate display. Galaxia's renegade Senshi had as much as told 
her that as long as she had the crystal, she'd be a target.

	True, she thought. She *was* a target.

	But she wasn't defenseless.

	Something had clicked for her back at the Hikawa Shrine the 
other day. Several things she'd already known finally became real to 
her.

	She wasn't entirely clear on who or what the Eunomia were, but 
she'd seen the fear and respect in Setsuna's eyes. They had defeated 
Chaos and sealed it away, and at some great cost. As Eternal Sailor 
Moon, she had sent Chaos back into the Galaxy Cauldron to be reborn. 
Chaos was and always had been the ultimate enemy, and *she* had 
defeated it.

	She had done something that her supposedly ultra-powerful 
future self had not been able to do. She had done something that this 
'Eunomia' had barely been able to do.

	Usagi wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she knew one 
thing--she was no longer scared. She wouldn't say she was looking 
forward to the next whatever-it-was they'd be facing, but she knew 
that she would not be tempted to run and hide in some lovely little 
fantasy.

	She leaned back on the couch and let one hand come to rest on 
Mamo-chan's chest. She could feel his heart. Along with the beating 
of his heart, she could feel the subtle pulse of the Kinzuishou, 
immensely powerful, yet quiet, like some slumbering giant. Nothing 
strange or new there.

	As her eyelids started to droop, she looked lovingly at her 
Mamo-chan's face. In her sleep-blurred vision, the strain and 
darkness of fatigue seemed to melt away.

	I know what it's like to be tired, she thought, hoping that 
that somehow he would pick up on the reassurance she was sending 
through their link. I know what it's like to always be dreading the 
next awful thing that's going to happen.

	She let her head sink back against the cushions. Soon her chest 
rose and fell in exact time with Mamoru's, breath for breath and 
heartbeat for heartbeat, and she drifted off to a deep, but not 
dreamless, sleep.


						#  #  #


	Usagi drifted in yet another dream tableau. Nothing much ever 
happened in her dreams of the past. She simply moved from situation 
to situation as if she were moving from picture to picture in an art 
gallery. The only difference was that instead of simply viewing each 
picture, she was somehow in the middle of each picture.

	This time, the lack of motion seemed more natural than 
frustrating. As in most of her recent dreams, this tableau was of her 
as a small child of maybe four or five. The picture should have been 
creepy or frightening, but to her, it felt perfectly natural.

	The tiny Princess Serenity lay half-asleep in the coils of a 
giant serpent. The serpent's skin was smooth and dry, and even in her 
dream, Usagi could sense the gentle warmth of the creature and how it 
smelled of autumn leaves after a soft rain. The little girl was not 
scared in the least. What she felt was absolute safety wonderfully 
spiced with the thrill of getting away with some minor offense--like 
staying up past bedtime with a stack of manga and a flashlight 
beneath the covers.

	The serpent--Delphine, as Usagi now knew--had its head resting 
on one of its own coils. The wings Usagi had put in her drawing were 
nowhere to be seen. Dark red eyes gazed at baby Serenity with a mild 
expression that would not have been expected on a creature so huge. 
The darkness of Delphine's hide nearly disappeared into the Lunar 
night except for the occasional glint of emerald where the stars 
reflected from her scales. The ruby eyes were deep, and held many 
secrets.

	The dreaming Usagi felt absolutely at peace with this giant 
snake, and she would have happily stayed there, but the dream 
flickered out as Mamo-chan shook her awake.

	Usagi stretched and yawned. "What time is it?"

	"Eleven-fifteen." 

	Usagi yelped in alarm but Mamo-chan only laughed softly. "You 
were sound asleep when I woke up. I called your parents and let them 
know the sordid truth."

	"Mamo-chan..." she snarled.

	"Relax, Usa-ko. I just told them that you fell asleep while we 
were watching a movie and that I had lost track of the time."

	She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then rolled her head to 
work out some of the stiffness in her neck. "They weren't mad, were 
they?"

	"I don't think so," Mamo-chan said, but he hesitated long 
enough that Usagi started to worry. "They did say to get you back 
home before midnight, though."

	Stupid curfew. Usagi was half-convinced that her parents would 
try to enforce the 11 p.m. rule even after she was married. Mamo-chan 
offered to rub the kinks out of her neck, and she took him up on his 
offer. They could afford to dawdle a few minutes and still get her 
home before pumpkin time.

	"Do you mind driving me?" she asked. Every minute she could 
spend with him was more precious than gold.

	"Afraid of muggers?" he teased. "You, the girl who's saved the 
world how many times?"

	"Oh, ha-ha, very funny." Of course, he'd be awake and chipper 
*now*, when she had to go home.

	"We'll take the motorcycle, if you don't mind. It'll be faster 
than getting the car out of the garage."

	Mind? Mind being able to sit with her arms wrapped tight around 
Mamo-chan and snuggling up against his back? Was he crazy?

	Ten minutes later, they were speeding through the streets of 
Tokyo. His back was warm and strong against her chest, making her 
feel safer than safe as they flew along at ridiculous speed. She 
wasn't even the tiniest bit scared as he took corners at high speed, 
tilting so that their knees came within inches of the ground. All it 
did was give her an excuse to hold him even closer.

	This evening hadn't worked out quite as she'd planned, but she 
couldn't say she was too upset about it.



Saturday, July 7
1:24 a.m.


	So, the evening hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

	On the one hand, Jason thought, he hadn't enjoyed himself so 
much in years. After the first five or ten minutes of awkward 
conversation while they reintroduced themselves and searched for 
common ground, Makoto had proven to be good and easy company. 
Although she was young, there was something about her that made her 
seem like an 'old soul,' as his grandmother might say.

	He liked that she seemed comfortable in her own skin. He also 
liked that she was not afraid to eat. They'd gone to a Spanish 
restaurant, of all places, and it was quite an education to listen to 
her talk about what she thought about how the food was prepared or 
how it was seasoned, and how she hoped to duplicate certain items on 
her own. The menu was mainly appetizers--patas? no, tapas, that was 
it--and they must have sampled every one. Most were good. A few were 
not anything he'd care to try again. Still, he couldn't think of a 
time when he had so enjoyed a meal for the meal itself.

	They talked about this, and they talked about that. They talked 
about how much Tokyo had changed over the past ten years, and they 
talked about movies they'd seen and books they'd loved. They 
discussed the problems of the world and came up with ten ways to 
solve them all before they'd even finished the first course. They 
talked about how much they hated getting up in the morning and listed 
all the things they would do if they had a whole month off. They 
discovered that they both liked jazz, but hadn't heard of half of the 
other's favorite artists.

	He couldn't have asked for a better evening, or a better 
distraction from his problems.

	On the other hand...

	What the *hell* was he thinking?

	He was out on the town on a Friday night with a girl who was 
ten years younger than himself. Now *that* showed a whole lot of 
common sense!

	Plus, there was every chance that she knew all about Chiba and 
the Senshi, and if that blew up in his face, it could very well lead 
to the sort of situation for which the phrase 'the shit has hit the 
fan' was invented. 

	Then, if that wasn't enough, this was also the second night in 
a row he had been up ridiculously late, and if Seidou followed 
through with her threat of dragging him out to Kamakura tomorrow 
morning, he'd be one hurting puppy.

	Oh, well. He'd always had that little self-destructive streak 
going for him, hadn't he? At least he'd managed to keep the evening 
alcohol free. Just one of the advantages of keeping company with a 
minor, he told himself wryly.

	He'd headed out that afternoon with every intention of tracking 
down Chiba come hell, high water, or wrath of Seidou. If he 
concentrated, he found he could get a general idea of where the man 
was. Arranging a chance encounter wouldn't have been the least bit 
difficult.

	Then, there was the phone number that was sitting like a time-
bomb in his pocket. England was only six or seven hours behind Tokyo, 
so finding a good time to call wasn't a problem. He knew he'd have to 
make the call eventually, so he'd planned to do so tonight, after 
he'd found Chiba.

	That's what he *should* have done. Instead, he'd stopped to 
chat with the cute girl on the basketball court. Now, eight hours 
later, the two of them were sitting in a small cafˇ not far from one 
of Tokyo University's research centers. Technically speaking, the 
evening had been nothing but a waste of time, but he couldn't bring 
himself to get upset about it.

	After dinner, and after strolling through Roppongi for a little 
people-watching, they came to this cafˇ in search of coffee and 
dessert. This place was less frilly and pretentious than the 
frenchified cafˇ Seidou had dragged him to the other day. This place 
was more shabby-cute than girly-cute, with mismatched chairs painted 
in different colors. The cups and plates were a mix of white 
institutional ware and lumpy hand-thrown pottery, and most of the 
tables had a noticeable wobble. Makoto didn't even bother to try to 
find a non-wobbly table. She simply found them a quiet table off to 
the side and slid a matchbook under one of the legs with a casualness 
born of familiarity.

	"A friend of mine who's doing graduate studies at the Research 
Institute told me about this place. Usually, I hang out at the Crown 
Fruit Parlor," she said, "but they close at eleven."

	That was just fine with Jason. He didn't want to go somewhere 
where they might run into her friends. That little hallway encounter 
with Mars and Mercury had probably sheared eight years off his life.

	"Sometimes Motoki--it's his family's place--lets us stay late 
if we're having a big study session or something. I suppose I should 
be cramming for exams," Makoto said with a noticeable lack of 
conviction. She picked up her cup of tea and held it for a moment, 
savoring the weight and warmth of the rough-textured mug. "I know 
it's important, but I just can't seem to get worked up over it."

	Jason started to ask if she thought about forgoing college 
altogether, but thought better of it. This was Japan, after all, and 
academic pressures were even worse than they were back home. "Maybe 
you could go to a culinary school, or get yourself apprenticed to a 
master gardener. Have you thought about that at all?"

	She nodded. "I've even gotten together a few phone numbers, e-
mail addresses, web sites and the like. Mamoru-kun's friends with the 
guy who works with the roses at the Imperial Gardens. Even if he 
can't take on an apprentice, he might be good for a lead or two, or 
maybe just some advice. Still, I'll probably try college for a year 
or two, just to see what happens. I feel like I owe it to my parents 
to at least give it a try, you know?"

	He thought about that for a moment. "I know what you mean," he 
finally said. "My dad died when I was ten--heart attack--and Mom 
hauled us all back to the States."

	Makoto looked at him with sympathy, but not pity, thank God. 
"Why did she take you from Japan? Didn't she like it here?"

	"She loved it," he said bitterly. "Unfortunately, Dad only had 
thirteen years in the service. The Navy expects its officers to die 
in battle or at a ripe old age after a long, cushy desk job. Keeling 
over in your mid-thirties doesn't exactly qualify you or your family 
for much in the way of a pension. What little my mom did get allowed 
her to buy a house near family back in Baltimore. She was able to get 
a job as a nurse pretty quickly. The eight of us..."

	"Eight!"

	Jason grinned. The incredulous expression on Makoto's face was 
enough to forestall his little pity-party. "Eight. Me, Mom, four 
brothers, and two sisters."

	"Wow..." It was hard to miss the wistful, even covetous note in 
her voice.

	"Anyway, to go back to what I was getting to about college and 
all that, we'd had it drummed into our heads that we were *going* to 
go to college. Unfortunately, by the time the oldest of us were ready 
to go, money was pretty tight. Jake took classes at a community 
college while he was working, and I was just good enough at 
basketball to get a partial scholarship at the state university," he 
said with pride. He *was* good enough on his own to play in a handful 
of games and to be a good opponent for the other players in practice, 
but not good enough without his telekinesis to go any further. The 
few times he'd tried 'helping' the ball to go where he wanted, other 
players had commented about how oddly it had moved. Telekinesis was 
also no substitute for speed or being able to think quickly in the 
crunch.

	He shook his head sadly. "The worst part about cutting out 
after two years was thinking about how disappointed Dad would have 
been. At least we'd helped Mom to save enough to get the younger ones 
started."

	Makoto was lost in thought for a while. "I always used to dream 
about being in a big family," she said, "but it was just me, Mama, 
and Daddy."

	And then, when she was far too young, it was just her. Jason 
felt he should apologize, somehow, but Makoto kept talking.

	"I'd love to hear more about your family... if you don't mind, 
that is," she asked shyly.

	"Of course not! Just hold on a second..."

	He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and handed it over 
to Makoto. He'd loaded it with pictures of his family, his dog, and 
even his house. It seemed silly to him, but he knew that the photos 
would help break the ice with his host family or with anyone he'd be 
working with. Makoto slid her chair around so that the two of them 
were sitting side by side.

	As he'd hoped, she laughed in surprise at the first picture. 
Two brown, perpetually anxious eyes peered out of a brindled, needle-
nosed face.

	"That's Gracie. We were never allowed to have pets while 
growing up, so as soon as I got my own place, I got a dog to go with. 
My brother Josh is looking after her while I'm gone."

	Next was a copy of Emma's Christmas card. It featured Emma 
along with her husband and three moppets, all in their coordinated 
outfits and accompanied by a Golden Retriever, posing at the end of a 
dock on Nantucket. Looking at that picture, one would never guess 
that this perfectly coiffed blonde had grown up in South Baltimore 
and had been suspended from school three times for beating up other 
students, smoking in the girl's locker-room, and getting falling-down 
drunk at her junior prom.

	"Emma went after scholarships like a pit bull, and got to go to 
MIT and Princeton, all on someone else's dime." Despite her bimbonic 
attitude in high-school and her current Ralph Lauren lifestyle, Emma 
knew electronic circuits, transmitters, and technology like no one 
else he'd ever met. Her biggest problem had been learning the proper 
protocols for expressing what she already *knew* instinctively. She'd 
also had to learn how to tell other people how to build the things 
she could cobble together without thinking. "She used to work for 
NASA, but she switched to consulting so she could spend more time 
with the kids." It also allowed her to move away from the D.C. area 
and her increasingly embarrassing extended family, but Jason didn't 
feel like going into that at the moment.

	They turned to the next picture, one that was less than a month 
old. Josh was a year and a half younger than Emma and three years 
younger than Jason, but years of hard work and a harder marriage made 
him look much older than either sibling. Josh and his four-year-old 
son, Robbie, were posed in front of the Babe Ruth statue at Camden 
Yards. They were wearing matching O's caps. Robbie's had slid down to 
hide his eyes. Robbie's mother, of course, was nowhere to be seen. 
Last Jason had heard, Pam was somewhere in Indiana, probably cheating 
on her third husband by now, but no one really knew. No one really 
cared.

	"He's got his own auto-shop," Jason said proudly. "He 
specializes in antique and classic cars--I'll go in sometimes to help 
out, especially if he's got a 1920 Rolls or something like that in 
for work. The best was when someone had a 1908 Hupmobile that needed 
to have its entire engine taken apart and rebuilt."

	"Some friends of mine and I helped a mechanic restore an old 
car that she and her husband had been working on before he died," 
said Makoto. "I didn't understand half of what I was doing, but it 
was fun."

	"It is, isn't it?" He was having a great time, but part of him 
hoped he could find some area where the two of them were *completely* 
incompatible.

	The next picture showed two young women in front of a 
Southwestern landscape. One was tall and lanky, with sun-browned skin 
and spiky blonde hair. In the clear desert light, her eyes were as 
bright as chips of turquoise. Her companion was petite, with soft 
curves, curly black hair, and luminous brown eyes. She looked like a 
Victorian doll. Jason didn't have to tell Makoto which one was 
related to him.

	"Missy," he said. Her name was really Elizabeth, but his 
youngest sister hadn't answered to her given name since she was four. 
"The other gal in the picture is Tanya. The two of them just bought a 
house out in New Mexico. It's really cool--all adobe and stuff like 
that. Missy's a weaver and Tanya's a carpenter. They trade their 
stuff with other artists, so their house looks like some sort of 
funky museum." He was glad he'd had the chance to visit before this 
Japan thing had come up. Otherwise he'd never have been able to see 
for himself how things were finally going well for his baby sister. 
For a long time, it looked as if Missy was the only one who'd not 
received the family gift. It was only after their grandmother taught 
her to knit that she'd discovered her strange affinity for textiles 
and organic fibers of all kinds. It was like the loom and spindle 
would sit up and beg, roll over, or play fetch at her slightest whim. 
The old Navaho weavers had accepted her into their circle and taught 
her things that they would never, ever show another Anglo.

	"I can't believe how *big* the sky looks," Makoto said. Oddly 
enough, she didn't comment on the fact that Missy had a girlfriend. 
Maybe attitudes about that sort of thing were different in Japan, he 
thought. At least Missy had finally found a place where she could be 
happy.

	The pictures of James and Jeremy were stiffly posed high school 
photos, and received little more than a cursory nod. Jeremy looked 
like, well, Jeremy, but the picture of James was misleading thanks to 
the combed hair and recent shave.

	"James normally looks like a complete stoner or part of a 
grunge band, but he graduated a year early and got a full ride to 
Virginia Tech, and it looks like he's going to graduate early there 
as well. Jeremy's trying to talk Josh into taking him on at his shop, 
but Josh says he has to try at least two years of college first." 
James could do some truly scary things with computers, and Jeremy's 
gift with metal and moving parts rivaled Josh's own.

	How would Makoto react if he told her about the set of gifts 
that had had been passed down from Grandfather Wright? She'd probably 
freak, he figured. That's what had happened with Renˇe and a couple 
of other ex-girlfriends. Just as well that he'd be keeping this 
relationship short and sweet.

	They flipped to the last photo. It showed two men lounging 
against a sunlit brick wall. Makoto blinked a little, then looked 
more closely at the photo.

	"This isn't you, is it?" she asked. It was an old photo, taken 
back in the days when he was in uniform. Jake was in uniform as well, 
not his full firefighting gear, but the shirt and slacks he wore 
while on call at the station. Jason remembered the day clearly, even 
though it seemed like it was an eternity ago. It had been an 
unusually cool day for a Baltimore summer, and Jason had dropped by 
the fire station on his break, just to razz his brother. After the 
obligatory teasing, the two of them lounged around outside for a 
while, enjoying July air that could actually be breathed. They were 
wearing shades, of course, and one of Jake's buddies had snapped this 
picture of the two of them as they stood in nearly identical poses. 
The two brothers looked like a parody of cool.

	"Yeah. I went with the ultra-short hair that summer for some 
reason," he said. He'd thought it would be more comfortable during 
the summer, and it was, but then Jake pointed out that uniform plus 
blond hair plus blue eyes plus buzz cut made him look like a S.S. 
wanna-be and that was the end of that.

	He'd almost forgotten about this picture. The others had all 
been added especially for the trip, but this one had been in his 
wallet so long he hardly even saw it any more. The card from the 
funeral mass peeked up from behind the photo, its top edge worn down 
to velvety smoothness.

	"You said you had four brothers. Who's this one?" Makoto asked.

	"Jake. Jacob. He was the oldest."

	She looked up at him sharply, green eyes wide with fear and 
understanding.

	"It's okay," he said gently. "He died in an accident three--
nearly four--years ago."

	"It never seems that long, does it?" she asked.

	"No." He reached out to take back the wallet. She passed it to 
him, and their fingers slid past each other--not flirtatiously, but 
in silent acknowledgement that the two of them had yet one more thing 
in common.

	Jason looked at the photo again. The two of them looked so 
young and innocent. Just a couple of young heroes-in-training, 
wearing their too-clean uniforms instead of the hazmat gear or 
generic suit that they usually wore on the job.

	How might things have worked out, he wondered, if Jake hadn't 
died in that fire? What if he'd realized what was happening in time 
to use his gifts to shield himself and his two buddies? Maybe he had, 
but Jason knew all too well that Jake couldn't manipulate the flames 
he fought for a living. He shook his head, trying to clear the images 
that continually rose up to haunt him.

	Makoto remained silent. She didn't ask the usual questions 
("Were you two very close?") or give the usual platitudes ("I know it 
must hurt"), and for that, he was grateful. The hole in his chest 
felt raw around the edges again, in ways that he could not explain. 
Maybe that was because the idea of Jake not being there was still too 
strange of a notion for him to accept. They were only eleven months 
apart in age--'Irish twins' and a pair of Gemini to boot--and had 
been as close as if they had actually grown alongside each other in 
the womb.

	If Jake hadn't died, then perhaps he wouldn't have to be here 
today, trying to deal with what happened over three years ago.

	How much longer could he continue to keep this up? His past was 
racing to catch up with him, and no matter how many times he told 
himself to turn and confront it, he always found one more excuse to 
keep running. One more excuse from doing what needed to be done.

	It had to stop. Things had to be put right.

	They sat in comfortable, companionable silence for a while. 
When Jason happened to catch a glimpse of his watch, he was shocked 
to see that it was after two.

	"I hate to say it, but we'd better head back," he finally said. 
"Does the subway still shut down at midnight?"

	Makoto nodded. "I don't mind walking back if you don't. It's 
about a forty minute walk back to my place from here." Her brow 
wrinkled in concern. "But aren't you staying far out from the city 
center? How are you going to get back?"

	"I'll take a taxi," he said. Along with a second mortgage on 
his house, he thought grimly, remembering the cost of the ride from 
the airport to his hotel.

	Makoto started to say something, then flushed bright red. Jason 
figured she was about to offer him the use of her couch for a few 
hours until the subway started running again, but had some major 
second thoughts. 

	He wouldn't mind taking her up on the offer, but he did agree 
it was a bit much for a first date. First date, huh? Well, he may as 
well call it what it was.

	"Don't worry about it," he said. Even he could tell that his 
smile was not all that convincing. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of 
it."

	If things were different, he could find himself falling for 
this girl in a big way, age difference or no age difference. Truth be 
told, he was already starting to fall, and that was both exciting and 
scary. If things were given the chance to work out, he'd probably 
find that the ten years between them would look like nothing.

	He got up from the table. "If we wait any longer, the subways 
will start running again before we know it."

	"Yeah," she said, and her reluctance to leave this place was so 
obvious he had to struggle to keep from laughing. "At least it's a 
nice night for a walk."

	They headed out into the balmy night air. Jason debated whether 
or not he should take her arm. They walked along in a pleasantly 
awkward silence, each lost in thought. When Makoto finally spoke it 
took him a moment to realize that she had spoken at all.

	"Um, I don't know if you're busy on Sunday or not," she said 
with what he knew was uncharacteristic meekness, "but I'd love to 
make dinner for you or something."

	The last came out in a nervous rush. Careful, he thought. He 
didn't want to give this a chance, did he?

	Still, it was just dinner...

	"I think I could manage that," he said, even as he mentally 
smacked himself upside the head for being a weak-willed idiot. Then, 
to top it off, he held out his arm so she could slip hers through the 
crook. She looked up at him and smiled, and the hole in his chest 
didn't hurt quite so much any more.

	It was like a game of 'let's pretend.' Let's pretend that 
everything is normal, at least until after Sunday. Two days. He could 
afford to put things off that much longer, couldn't he?



3:20 a.m.


	Rei's eyes fluttered open. The sound of her scream still echoed 
in her mind. That was odd. It was rare that any of her dreams scared 
her awake.

	She sat up, but it took *forever*. It was like moving through 
tar. What on earth was wrong with her? Why did she feel so weak and 
sluggish?

	Then, she froze. Something--someone--was moving around in her 
room. She could hear it. Crackling, rustling, softly clicking... it 
came from everywhere at once. Her room was dark, but it shouldn't be 
*that* dark--something was wrong with the walls. 

	The walls shouldn't be that dark. The darkness shouldn't be 
moving like that. 

	She tried to turn on the light, but she kept missing the chain. 
When she did finally grab hold of the chain, it slid right through 
her numb fingers.

	The darkness flowed down the wall and rushed towards her bed. 
The darkness was a mass of tiny black beetles. They came straight at 
her, seeking her out, washing over her blanket like a wave. She tried 
to swat them away, but her muscles were as responsive as overcooked 
noodles. The bugs kept coming. They crawled up her body and towards 
her face, trying to find a way in, but she knew that wasn't the worst 
part.

	The worst part was that they could *see* her. They were 
*looking* at her.

	She tried to scream, but could not. All that came out was the 
ghost of a whisper.

	Rei sat up--again?--and this time switched on the lamp, easy as 
pie. No bugs. No darkness. No one looking at her. She let out a deep 
breath. It was just another dream, but it had felt so *real*. 

	She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She 
hated it when she woke from one dream into another! It was so 
disorienting, and it always took a while before she could trust that 
she was fully awake. Even now she felt the itchy prickle of thousands 
of tiny bug feet marching up and down her body.

	Once the phantom itch subsided, she touched her fingers to her 
neck, half-expecting to find that the flesh was bruised and sore. The 
thing with the bugs was almost enough to make her forget the dream 
that had frightened her into false waking. The dreams about her past? 
future? death had been insanely vivid the past couple of nights. She 
ran her hand over her throat, but all she could feel was the frantic 
hammering of her own pulse.

	Before picking up her dream journal, she spent a moment in 
prayer, first clapping her hands twice in the ritual manner to show 
respect for the kami and to frighten away any evil spirits that might 
happen to be lurking. Rei sincerely hoped it did the job.

	She got out of bed and headed to the shrine's kitchen, not even 
bothering to change out of her nightshirt. Even now, she was still 
too rattled to even *think* about meditating. She wanted some cocoa, 
a cookie or two, and a chance to look through her dream journal.

	Normally, Rei didn't like sweet things in the morning, but she 
was in the mood for something childlike and comforting. Even the 
smell of scalded milk was enough to help her regress to somewhere 
safe and soothing. Now, she was better able to face her journal and 
look at it objectively.

	The dream about being strangled to death had happened on the 
second night of her visions--Saturday night or Sunday morning. It had 
then left her alone until Wednesday night, when it returned with a 
vengeance. 

	Other scenes had repeated themselves, gaining details which 
either clarified the situation or contradicted earlier versions of 
the scene. 

	She looked back at the cryptic entry that had started all of 
this, and once again tried to make sense of those fragments that had 
seemed so crucial at the time.

		Women. 5-6? Serenity/not Serenity. Serpent--
		lady--dragon? human? Mirror-lady. Armor/spear--
		lion of Saint Mark. Mother-->crows. Leaves and 
		flowers-->"horned god"??? Senshi? Sealing?

	She was beginning to make some sense of this first entry, but 
she was both too sleepy and too wired to think clearly yet.

	Instead, she leafed through her journal until she found the 
first entry about her future (or was it past?) death. In the margin, 
she dutifully jotted down the date and any details that stood out 
about that morning's dream. She then turned to a blank page and wrote 
a quick description of her false waking and the spying insects.

	She laughed softly and took another sip of her cocoa. It looked 
as if hanging around Ami for all these years had rubbed off on her.

	As she savored her special breakfast, Rei idly browsed through 
the journal, trying to see if there was anything that might give her 
a hint about this Sailor Sun they'd be meeting later today.

	None of the visions had anything that was obviously about a new 
Senshi. She read through each entry and the dates listed down its 
margins. The visions seemed to repeat regularly--not every night, but 
close.

	There was, however, only one vision that had not repeated 
itself. The undulating thing in the darkness. She'd only had that 
particular vision that first night--when was it again? She checked 
the date in her journal. Saturday, June 30. The morning after Usagi's 
party. She shook her head. Was it only a week ago that all this had 
started? As she re-read her notes she recalled the sense she'd had of 
being watched, considered, and turned away.

	Once more, she shivered and brushed imaginary insects from her 
arms.

	Were there really things out there that could watch her through 
her dreams?

	She heard a floorboard creak and she looked up in alarm. Her 
hard-won calm fled. When she saw her grandfather shuffle through the 
kitchen door, she couldn't decide whether to be relieved or angry.

	Anger won, but just barely. "Grandpa! What are you doing up 
this early? You're sick! You need your sleep!"

	Grandpa only laughed and poured himself a big mug full of 
cocoa. Rei grimaced. He'd better not have taken all of it. She'd been 
counting on having seconds.

	"It's only a little summer cold, Rei-chan. I'm feeling much 
better already," he said. He still sounded congested. "Besides, we 
old geezers don't need more than a few hours sleep a night."

	Rei shook her head in disgust. Grandpa caught colds so much 
more easily these days, and had a harder and harder time shaking them 
off. Unfortunately, he never took them seriously. One of these days, 
a 'little summer cold' was going to turn into a case of full-blown 
pneumonia.

	"You still sound stuffy. And why are you drinking cocoa? You 
know what the doctor said about your blood sugar. Besides, I made 
that cocoa for *me*," Rei said snippily. She wanted to say more, but 
elected to take another sip of her cocoa rather than get herself 
worked up.

	"Rei-chan," he joked as he knelt down opposite her, "you're 
much too young to be such a nag. Wait until you have a husband for 
that!"

	Rei nearly bit through her mug.

	"Now it's my turn to ask you what *you're* doing up so early, 
sweetheart. I thought I heard you call out earlier."

	"I'm sorry, Grandpa! I--I must have had a bad dream or 
something." In the guise of reaching for another cookie, she curled 
one arm around her journal and pulled it out of his direct line of 
sight. He'd been unusually attentive since she'd fallen asleep mid-
vision a while back. She was beginning to wonder if he suspected 
anything about her visions, or even about her Senshi activities.

	He smiled. "That must be it. You poor young things are under a 
lot of stress these days, aren't you?"

	More than he could ever imagine, thought Rei.

	"Well, anyhow, I'm sorry I woke you, Grandpa," she said 
sheepishly. She hoped her scream hadn't scared him too badly.

	Her grandfather only laughed. "I was awake already, Rei-chan. 
Don't wrinkle your pretty little face by worrying about me! I'm not 
worth the trouble."

	Then, as sudden as the shift from her false waking into true 
waking, her grandfather's expression changed.

	"Maybe it's just an old man's fancy," he said in a tone that 
indicated that he did not think it fanciful at all, "but as I slept, 
I thought I felt something evil drawing near the shrine."

	Rei listened attentively. Her grandfather followed all of the 
rituals scrupulously if not with utter solemnity, but he had *never* 
mentioned being able to sense anything about the spirit world. Had 
one of her dreams awakened it, or was it something else?

	"When you first came here to live, Rei-chan, you struck me as a 
very mysterious little girl. Befriending those two pesky crows, being 
drawn to the fire as if it were a magnet..."

	Rei could feel herself both blushing and trembling. She wasn't 
sure where this was going, but she knew it was going to be awkward.

	"In fact," he said carefully, "I've often thought that despite 
your father's wishes, you should continue your training beyond that 
which is normal for a miko. Your father only allowed you to train as 
a miko because he thought it would distract you from the loss of your 
mother." He was quiet, but it was obvious that he was fighting the 
temptation to say more on the subject.

	The miko in question stared into her half-empty cup. That was 
just like her father, wasn't it? To him, grief was nothing more than 
a distraction or an inconvenience. *She'd* been a distraction and an 
inconvenience. Her father couldn't pursue his political career and be 
a single parent at the same time.

	Guess which part of his life had to go, she thought bitterly. 
She may have been attuned to spirits and visions, but it took her 
nearly nine years to notice that her own father barely even cared she 
existed. Maybe when he thought she was old enough to be married off 
to one of his political allies...

	No way would she ever allow *that* to happen! She forced 
herself to listen more closely to her grandfather. He'd get his 
feelings hurt if she didn't.

	"Your school goes up through college," her grandfather said. 
"If you want to call it that."

	Rei stared at him, shocked at the disgust evident at his tone. 
She knew that T.A.'s 'college' was really more of a finishing school, 
but she would probably end up going there. With her grades, she had a 
fair to middling chance of getting a scholarship to a *real* college, 
but when she'd asked her father about paying even partial tuition to 
Tokyo University, he'd firmly reminded her about the respect that 
T.A. had in the community, and about the fine young ladies who had 
graduated from there. He hadn't outright refused her request, but he 
had made his wishes clearly known. 

	"You'd be wasted there," Grandpa continued, "and there's only 
so far you can go as a miko. Have you considered Kokugakuin?"

	Rei's jaw dropped. Kokugakuin was *the* leading center for 
priestly training and Shinto scholarship. Was he serious?

	"I guess you haven't," he said wryly. "You should think about 
it though. Since it's in town, you could continue living here. You'd 
be an ideal candidate, and it would be good press for the school to 
have a few more female students. Besides, I've seen the way your 
friends seem to flock here." He laughed. "It's so wonderful to see so 
many pretty girls all the time!"

	"Grandpa..." she snarled.

	Still laughing, he waved aside her annoyance. "You make them 
feel comfortable here. Despite all of your bickering, you help to 
keep this shrine a place of peace. That's one of the most important 
things a priest or priestess can do." Again, the sudden shift to 
seriousness. "I've been watching you more closely of late, Rei-chan. 
I think you're more spiritually perceptive than you know... or than 
you're letting on." Then he laughed his usual, raucous laugh, 
sounding very much like Phobos or Deimos. "I wonder if the same thing 
that woke me was the same thing that woke you?" he said. "Now that 
would be some coincidence, wouldn't it?" He looked at her, and she 
couldn't tell if the glint in his eyes was simple mischief or if he 
was trying to see through her fa¨ade.

	She couldn't lie to him. More than that, she suddenly *wanted* 
to be able to tell him everything.

	"Sometimes..." She paused and licked her lips nervously, 
"Sometimes I can feel things. Strength. Wrongness. Corruption. 
Sometimes I sense it surrounding a person or I feel it when I go near 
a certain place." She looked up at him, not sure if she was hoping or 
fearing that he understood.

	"Did you feel any 'wrongness' when you fell asleep in front of 
the fire the other morning?" he asked gently. He then laughed softly 
and shook his head. "Ah, never mind that. I can tell you don't want 
to talk about it just yet. We *will* have to talk about it soon, 
however. I'd hate to let things go too late."

	Again, Rei felt that her grandfather was saying one thing while 
hinting at another. Too late? Too late for what? Maybe she *should* 
tell him about the things she'd seen.

	She shook her head, then pretended to wipe sleep-grit from her 
eyes. No. She couldn't say anything, not without clearing it with the 
others, especially Usagi.

	"Thanks, Grandpa," she said, pulling her journal into her lap 
as discreetly as she could. "I'll keep that in mind."

	For a moment, he simply looked at her with an unusually serious 
look in his eyes. "I hope you do, Rei-chan. These things should never 
be taken lightly."



8:38 a.m.


	Ikuko carried two plates of French toast out to the family 
room. She smiled as she saw ChibiUsa and Hotaru, still in their 
pajamas, watching some cartoon program and talking about what they 
wanted to do for Tanabata. Even though Shingo and Usagi both enjoyed 
festivals very much, they were both at the age where they preferred 
to act unimpressed by such things. 

	Ikuko hadn't realized how much she'd missed the excitement that 
used to build up around these holidays. It was too bad that ChibiUsa 
couldn't come and stay with them more often. There were times when 
Ikuko almost wished that ChibiUsa was her own child and not... Whose 
child was she, anyway?

	Almost as soon as it was formed, the question faded from 
Ikuko's mind, along with a faint memory of another child with darker 
pink hair in heart-shaped odangos, and a stronger memory of finding a 
child's cup decorated with a name she didn't quite recognize.

	It sounded as if Hotaru wanted to go to the planetarium to see 
a special show about the constellations, while ChibiUsa was more 
interested in going to the festival for food and games. Ikuko noticed 
that neither girl mentioned the puppet shows that her children had 
loved when they were younger.

	"Here you are, girls." She handed them the plates. "Have you 
two decided what wishes you're going to hang on the Tanabata bamboo?"

	ChibiUsa and Hotaru looked at each other and shrugged.

	"I don't know if we'll end up doing that or not, Ikuko-mama," 
ChibiUsa said. She then started talking about how they planned to 
meet up with her friends Momoko and Kyusuke later that evening.

	Ikuko's heart broke just the tiniest little bit. Why couldn't 
ChibiUsa stay a child forever? Fortunately, Usagi trudged downstairs 
just then, no doubt lured by the smell of breakfast. 

	Ikuko couldn't help smiling. At least there were some things 
that would *never* change, among them her oldest daughter's 
passionate love affair with food and sleep.

	"That smells good," Usagi said, looking in the general 
direction of the French toast. She was so groggy that it came out 
like a lament.

	"I have a plate sitting in the oven for you. Why don't you come 
eat in the kitchen so ChibiUsa and Hotaru can have their time 
together."

	Usagi did a very slow double-take upon noticing Hotaru's 
pajamas.

	"Hotaru-chan spent the night?"

	"If you'd gotten in at a decent hour, you might have seen her," 
Ikuko chided, but gently. She didn't miss the sympathetic 'aren't 
parents the worst?' look that Hotaru gave her daughter.

	Ikuko ate her own modest breakfast while Usagi devoured a stack 
of French toast that Shingo would have been hard-pressed to finish, 
despite the fact that he was now several centimeters taller than his 
sister and had the appetite of a normal teenage boy.

	"Usagi-chan, remember that phone call I got the other morning?"

	Usagi looked up at her, suddenly looking very awake.

	"That was Taiyouko Seidou--an old school-friend of mine. You've 
actually met her once or twice, but you were probably too young to 
remember much."

	Her daughter finished swallowing her mouthful of food.

	"Why was she calling all of a sudden?" she asked suspiciously.

	"Goodness, you sound like you're expecting to get into trouble 
or something!" Ikuko exclaimed. "Anyway, Taiyouko-chan must have 
decided that she hadn't seen me in a while, so she gave me a call. 
She wants to get together for tea or lunch, and she said that she'd 
love to see you again, too."

	"Really," Usagi said. She didn't look thrilled by the idea, but 
Ikuko couldn't blame her. When she was in *her* teens, going to lunch 
with her mother and one of her mother's friends would have been very 
far down on the list of 'things that are fun.'

	"I think you'd have good time," Ikuko said. "Taiyouko-chan's a 
police officer--a detective, really--and she's got lots of 
interesting stories. She's good about leaving out the truly gory 
parts, however."

	Usagi still looked doubtful. "Did she say when she wanted to 
get together?"

	Ikuko shook her head. Usagi's attitude was starting to get to 
her. "She's in the middle of a case, so she said it would probably be 
last-minute notice." She smiled mischievously. "I really want you two 
to meet each other again, so I told her that I'd be perfectly willing 
to pull you out of school for a day."

	"Oh. Um... Thanks."

	"Well *that* sounded sincere," Ikuko snapped. "It's not every 
day I treat you to a day off from school. My goodness, you're acting 
like I'm about to haul you off in front of a judge or something! What 
on earth is wrong with you this morning?"

	Usagi flinched, then looked down at her empty plate, presumably 
in shame. "I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered. "It's just that... I'm 
tired, that's all."

	Ikuko was about to remind Usagi that they'd set her eleven o' 
clock curfew for a reason, but her mother-sense hinted that something 
else was going on.

	"You and Mamoru-kun didn't have a fight, did you?"

	Usagi shook her head emphatically. "No! No way!" She then 
chuckled ruefully. "He was asleep pretty much the whole time I was 
there. Even when I'm with him, I feel like I hardly see him any 
more!"

	Ikuko got up and went over to her daughter, and gave her a big 
hug. "Oh, my little Usagi cuddle-bunny! It'll only be a little while 
longer, you'll see." She let go and looked her daughter in the eye. 
Usagi didn't look like she was going to cry, but she looked so 
comically morose that Ikuko had to fight not to laugh.

	"I wish I could be married now!" Usagi wailed.

	There wasn't much Ikuko could say on that subject that wouldn't 
upset her daughter. Usagi wouldn't want to hear that she'd be 
miserable trying to deal with being a new bride while her husband was 
absorbed with his schooling. That was why she and Kenji had made the 
mandate about Usagi's wedding delay appear to be dependent on Usagi's 
graduation rather than Mamoru's.

	"I know, sweetie," she said, brushing a stray hair from Usagi's 
face. "I know you're impatient, but couldn't you just enjoy your last 
year of being in high-school? Also there's so much to do during your 
first year of college--I'd hate for you to miss out on all of that. 
Besides, I'd like just a little more time to have you as my very own 
Usagi-cuddle-bunny."

	"Mom!" Usagi rolled her eyes upon hearing the old nickname.

	"Being an adult carries a lot of responsibility with it," Ikuko 
continued, hoping that at least some of this would sink in. 
Repetition, repetition, repetition, she told herself. That was the 
only way with teenagers. "I just want to be sure that you'll be ready 
for all of the responsibilities you're going to have later on in 
life."

	Ikuko was expecting some more eye rolling, or perhaps even an 
"oh, Mom!" but she was taken aback by the look that came into Usagi's 
eyes. 

	It was a look of such profound sadness and suffering that it 
knocked Ikuko's breath from her body. A moment later, the look was 
gone.

	"So, what can you tell me about this Taiyouko person?" Usagi 
asked. She still sounded tired, but the question seemed based in 
genuine curiosity.

	Grateful for the change of subject, Ikuko grinned at her 
daughter. "Well, for one thing, she saved your life. One day, while I 
was about six months pregnant with you, I went downtown to go 
shopping and to meet Taiyouko-chan for lunch."

	It was one of the times in her life that she and Taiyouko had 
drawn especially close. Taiyouko was normally rather unimpressed by 
children and babies, and had sworn on several occasions that she had 
no intention of having children, or 'spawning,' as she'd put it. Even 
so, she'd become almost obsessed with her friend's pregnancy and with 
the health and safety of the baby.

	"She was only a patrol officer at the time, and she was working 
in the area where I'd planned to go shopping." She paused. The story 
became rather unpleasant at this point, but she could only edit for 
content so much. "Anyhow, I was going to meet Taiyouko in some 
department store or another, I can't remember which. It's not 
important."

	She could recall exactly what the mannequins were wearing that 
day, and how they were posed. She could still smell the blend of 
fragrances from the perfume counter. She remembered the cheery sound 
of Taiyouko-chan's 'hello,' and caught a mental glimpse of her cute 
blue policewoman's jacket, cap, and skirt.

	"I could just see her across the room, when all of a sudden, 
someone grabbed me from behind. I don't know what he wanted--maybe he 
was a robber or something--but I guess he thought a pregnant woman 
would make a good hostage."

	The man had put a knife to her throat and kept babbling on and 
on in a frantic whisper about how he didn't want to kill her, but he 
had to. He had to before it was too late. Ikuko could still hear 
every word as if it had been captured on a tape recorder. She 
remembered how he'd asked her for forgiveness. That last part was 
what had scared her the most, for some reason.

	Usagi leaned forward in fright and excitement, eager to hear 
more.

	"Fortunately, Taiyouko-chan was there and was able to subdue 
the robber. There's not that much more to tell."

	Even now she could feel the heat of the bullet as it passed by 
her temple. Then, there was spray of warm wetness exploding across 
her shoulder and the side of her face, and a thunderous sound that 
seemed to shake the entire world.

	The other police officers who'd come to oversee the incident 
kept her there for questioning, only letting her go after Taiyouko 
had said something about how shameful it was for a pregnant woman to 
have to stand around waiting and wondering when she could wash the 
blood, bone, and brain out of her hair.

	"Wow," Usagi whispered in awe. "How come you never told me 
about that before?"

	"Oh, I don't know," Ikuko said lightly. "I guess it just hasn't 
come up, that's all. I also don't like to talk about it much." She 
picked up Usagi's empty plate and carried it to the sink. "Now go get 
dressed so you can help me with the chores."

	Usagi sighed dramatically, but got up from the table and headed 
upstairs.

	Ikuko breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad that her daughter 
hadn't pressed her for details. She would prefer to go on as if the 
whole incident had never happened, but she didn't want Taiyouko to 
accidentally spill the beans when they met for lunch.

	As Ikuko did the breakfast dishes, she couldn't help thinking 
about the sadness that had been in her daughter's eyes. It was 
probably only another bout of teen angst, but something in Usagi's 
expression had cut straight to her soul.

	The look reminded her of another time, when someone else had 
looked at her with eyes that had cut straight through her. Although 
she wished she could forget, or convince herself that she'd only been 
imagining things, she was still haunted by those cold, golden eyes 
that had looked down at her without compassion, pity, or remorse.



8:45 a.m.


	Jason somehow managed to open the screen door into the kitchen 
without touching his hand to the knob. Taiyouko was closest to the 
door, so theoretically she could have let him in, but she didn't feel 
like getting up from the table. Besides, she was curious to see how 
he'd manage. To her consternation, she couldn't figure out how he did 
it without getting grease all over the place.

	"I made a second pot of coffee, Jason-san," Akiko said. "It was 
so nice of you to get up to work on the car after so little sleep."

	"Keisuke told me that you came in with the dawn, Wright. Up to 
no good again, I see," Taiyouko said. 

	"Hey, I'm a young gaijin. I've got to get out and enjoy the 
city at some point, right? And for the record, I got in well before 
sunrise." He still sounded more than a little groggy. He pried off 
his shoes and headed for the washroom, greasy hands held up so that 
no one would try to touch him.

	"Thank you again for helping with the car, Jason-san," Akiko 
repeated. She looked more uncomfortable than grateful, however. 
Taiyouko did notice that she relaxed a bit once she realized that 
Jason was not going to use the kitchen sink to wash up. "I wish you 
would simply relax, though. Keisuke could have taken the car in to 
the mechanic later this week..."

	"He could," Taiyouko muttered, "but I wouldn't want to give 
odds on whether he *would*."

	"Excuse me, but I *am* standing right here," Keisuke pointed 
out.

	"But, Jason-san, I hate for you to feel like you have to work 
in exchange for your stay here..."

	"Don't worry about it," he called from the washroom. "I help my 
brother out with that sort of thing all the time. *He* has to do it 
for a living--but for me it's actually kind of relaxing. Keisuke-san, 
you'll still have to get the car in to the mechanic pretty soon. I 
changed your oil and took care of a few other little things, but your 
timing belt's about shot and you have to lift the engine out to do 
anything about that. I can take care of the brakes, but I'll have to 
stop by an auto-parts store first. Um, I hate to ask, but could 
someone bring me some rags? I don't want to mess up your towels, 
Akiko-san."

	By now, Akiko was looking even more flustered. As far as she 
was concerned, Keisuke's asking Jason to look at their car was akin 
to asking a doctor to stop by to do some complimentary neurosurgery.

	"Don't worry about it Akiko," Taiyouko said, trying to reassure 
her friend. "If it makes him feel more at home, then you're being a 
perfect hostess. Besides, if the repairs don't work, you know 
*exactly* where he's staying."

	"I suppose you're right, Taiyouko-san," Akiko said, but she 
sounded doubtful. Taiyouko was astounded that she hadn't forcibly 
restrained Wright from playing mechanic. Being a proper hostess was 
something that Akiko worried about to the point of neurosis. Another 
thing that surprised her was that Akiko was using Jason's given name 
instead of his family name after only a week.

	Meanwhile, Satoru and Daisuke raced to bring Jason some rags. 
Taiyouko watched grimly. The two boys had clearly developed some 
degree of hero-worship for the American. She heard the teasing tone 
in Jason's dark tenor voice, then the boys' shrieks of laughter as 
Jason did a dead-on impression of their favorite anime character, 
Vash the Stampede.

	No doubt about it--Jason was weaseling his way into the 
Takamori family.

	"So, how does it feel to have a fifth child around the house?" 
Taiyouko drawled, trying to cover up her unease. She'd dropped by the 
Takamori house this morning to have coffee with Akiko, then drag 
Jason off on a little trip. She didn't need the lurker's warnings to 
tell her that Jason was bad news. She had Anita's report to tell her 
that. She also needed to find out what his connection to Chiba was. 
Given his reactions at the boy's apartment the other day, it was 
obvious that Jason had his own agenda when it came to Chiba.

	"Fifth child? It's more like having a sixth child, if you ask 
me," Akiko said with a pointed glance at Keisuke, who was now lying 
on the living-room floor and wrestling with Megumi. Misako, the 
oldest of the Takamori children, was pulling on Jason's shirt and 
trying to get him to promise to play catch with her when he got back.

	Taiyouko looked at her partner's family a little sadly. There 
was a part of her that didn't want to believe what she'd read about 
Jason Wright. He *was* likeable enough, took her teasing fairly well, 
and was able to get in a jibe or two of his own. She *wanted* to like 
him.

	Normally, if she'd read the files on Jason and his pals 
Kellerman and Lewis, she would have been outraged, but she might have 
been able to ignore the implications of the incident described in 
them. She *never* would have ignored it if it were a member of her 
own department, but the American was not under her jurisdiction and 
would be going away after a few weeks. Now, because of the lurker's 
prompting, it was hard not to see Jason as an active threat. 

	How much of a threat, she didn't know. Things felt urgent 
enough that she'd put off plans to find Chiba and take him on a 
little drive past the site of the so-called 'accident.' She had to 
find out before any hint of that threat made itself known to her 
unofficial family. If something happened to Akiko and the kids, she'd 
never forgive herself. 

	If necessary, she'd find some way to get Jason out of the 
Takamori household for good.

	By the way, she thought to the lurker, I still don't trust 
*you* either. I know you wiped my memory of something the other 
night. That's not exactly something that gets you onto my 'nice' 
list.

	She could feel the lurker sigh. I only did that because you 
were getting upset, it said.

	Whatever, Taiyouko thought, taking another sip of coffee. Just 
don't do it again, or I'll show you 'upset.' Also, this thing with 
Wright had better not turn out to be a wild goose chase. Are we 
clear?

	Crystal, snarled the lurker.

	Oh, don't get a snit, Taiyouko replied. 

	Booting the lurker back to the recesses of her mind, Taiyouko 
interrupted Keisuke and Jason's oh-so-interesting sports talk.

	"You working from home today, Keisuke?"

	"I figured I would, if that's okay with you, since it's the 
kids' off-week for Saturday classes. I was planning to compare the 
old motor vehicle records to what I pulled out of the computer 
yesterday evening and see if there were any notable discrepancies."

	"Of course it's okay. You don't have to ask, you know that," 
she replied. Keisuke was one of the few people she would 
unhesitatingly classify as a decent human being. "As for you, Wonder 
Boy, you're on the clock as of fifteen minutes from now. Go get 
changed. I want to be in Kamakura before the tourist crowds get too 
nasty. We're going to drop in on Mr. Semyon Renko and see if his 
story of the 'accident' still holds water."

	And if I can kill two birds with one stone on this trip, she 
thought, so much the better.



11:01 a.m.


	Sometimes, Rei had a nagging feeling that their future wasn't 
going to be everything they assumed it was going to be. She looked 
the clock, then back down at the array of cards on the table. As with 
every other reading she'd done this morning, the array ended with the 
World--Crystal Tokyo, or so she assumed. She drummed her fingers on 
the table and bit at her lower lip in annoyance. What she couldn't 
figure out was why every single reading had taken a radically 
different path to get there. 

	In the end, she gave up on the readings and scraped the cards 
together into a pile. The cards were a haphazard tool at best, and 
could only paint the future in the broadest of strokes. Maybe trying 
to get an accurate view of their long-term future was beyond the 
scope of their use. Oh, well.

	If only there were some *safe* way for her to find out more! 
She knew that Usagi and the others would be disappointed and 
unsettled by what she'd found. Still, given what had happened earlier 
that morning, she was not about to risk the fire.

	Outside, Phobos and Deimos cawed loudly in happy greeting. 
Usagi and Mamoru must have arrived.

	Rei met them on the porch. Luna and Artemis were tagging along 
to see if anything she'd turned up seemed familiar.

	"Hey, guys! Come on in! I've got the tea ready, then I've got 
something I want to show you."

	As she poured the tea, Rei told them a little of the talk she'd 
had with her grandfather. Mamoru was all for the idea of her going to 
Kokugakuin, but Usagi looked sad.

	"I was hoping that just once, we'd all be able to be in the 
same class together," she explained.

	"College isn't like high school," Rei pointed out. "Besides, 
what makes you think we'd even be at the same level, or studying the 
same thing?"

	She and Usagi bickered a bit over that, but that was only to be 
expected. Once they ran out of steam, Mamoru filled her in on what he 
was studying in med school. Rei shivered. His stories of doing rounds 
in the burn ward reminded her of her close call with the fire several 
days ago.

	Usagi looked at her watch, then stared pointedly at Rei. 

	Rei nodded. The others--minus Ami, of course--would be here at 
a little before noon so they could meet this Sailor Sun person. There 
was only a half-hour or so to go over what she'd found out about the 
detectives.

	The miko took a deep breath and launched into her speech. She 
doubted that Usagi and Mamoru would like what she had to say. It was 
probably best to start with the bad news.

	"I've been meaning to do a fire reading to find out some more 
about what's been going on, but right now, I don't think that's such 
a good idea."

	Luna looked angry and Usagi looked puzzled until Rei told them 
about the visions in which she felt she was being watched. Usagi 
squirmed and made faces when Rei told them about the bugs.

	"I see," Artemis said grimly. "So I guess there's no way we can 
use your psychic abilities, huh?"

	"I didn't say that," Rei said. She put the deck of cards on the 
table. "Normally, I receive my visions or premonitions directly up 
here," she said, tapping one finger to her forehead. "The cards act 
as sort of an intermediate step. By using these, I should be 
reasonably safe from any kind of spiritual attack. Unfortunately, I 
can only get general impressions, and ones that could be interpreted 
in several different ways."

	"Well, if that's the best you can do, that's the best you can 
do," Mamoru said. He didn't seem too bothered by the news. "Did 
anything interesting come up?"

	"Yes." She looked cautiously at her future king. He might have 
been asking what she'd had for breakfast for all the interest in his 
voice. "First of all, I found out a few things about that female 
detective of yours. You did ask me to do a reading on her, remember?"

	Usagi started to say something but Rei shushed her.

	Rei thumbed through the deck and pulled out three cards, which 
she lay face-up on the table.

	"Whoever this woman is, I don't think we can afford to ignore 
her. Every time I did a reading on her, one of these three turned up 
as her signifier." She gestured at the cards she'd put on the table. 

	Judgment. Justice. The Fool.

	"The Fool?" Usagi asked. She leaned forward to get a better 
look. "Well, Mamo-chan, maybe this person's not as smart as Saori 
seems to think she is."

	"Would you just let me explain, Usagi!" Rei snapped. "It 
doesn't mean she's foolish or stupid. There are a several possible 
meanings, but it narrows down a little when you look at the other two 
cards. Let's start with the first meaning. The Fool kind of shows up 
in modern playing cards..."

	"The Joker, right?" Artemis asked. "Let me guess, she's going 
to attack Goth--erk!"

	His quip ended abruptly when Luna bit his tail.

	Rei figured it was best to pretend that nothing had happened. 
"It could mean that she's a literal 'wild card.' Whatever it is she's 
up to, she's going to be pretty unpredictable. Another thing is that 
the Fool is one of the hardest cards to pin down in terms of where it 
fits in with the other cards. Some experts put it at the beginning of 
the deck, and others put it at the end, instead of the World card. 
Other decks put it next to last, between Judgment and The World, and 
that's where I think it belongs in this case. I'll explain more in a 
bit."

	Usagi looked completely lost, while Mamoru seemed only vaguely 
interested, almost as if he was humoring her by listening to the 
reading. Luna was paying rapt attention to Rei's reading. Artemis was 
sulking.

	"Normally, I'd say that the Fool has to do with making mistakes 
based in deliberate ignorance," Rei continued. She did not miss the 
way Usagi looked at Mamoru at this announcement. "In this case, 
however, I'm tempted to read it differently. I got a strong feeling 
that it's not the Fool itself that's important--it's this. Take a 
closer look at the picture on the card."

	The card showed a young man dancing heedlessly along the edge 
of a cliff. A small dog was nipping at his heels. It was unclear 
whether the dog was egging the dancer on, or warning him to get away 
from the edge. A blinding sun shone in one corner of the sky.

	"I'm particularly interested in the cliff." There was a sharp 
intake of breath from Mamoru. Rei winced. She'd heard the story of 
how his parents were killed. "Anyhow, the cliff indicates that 
there's going to be a big change of some kind, and unfortunately, 
there's no way to predict what kind of change we're talking about 
here."

	As she explained, she berated herself silently. She'd sensed 
that the cliff was important, but she hadn't thought it could be a 
*literal* cliff, since the cards hardly ever worked that way. When 
she had time, she would have to rethink some of her conclusions.

	"So is she on our side or not?" asked Luna.

	"I've got a nasty feeling that you may be asking that question 
the wrong way around," Rei said. "Take a look at the next card."

	This one showed a stern looking person on a throne. It was 
impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman. He or she wasn't a 
king or queen, but was obviously quite powerful. In one hand was a 
tiny set of scales. In the other was an unsheathed sword. Something 
about the look in the person's eyes said that he or she was ready and 
willing to use it if need be. 

	"The Justice card usually connotes absolute, merciless justice. 
It demands that people recognize their mistakes and make amends. 
Usually, it has a lot to say about the past or past actions."

	Again, Usagi furtively glared at Mamoru. What was going on 
there? Was there more to this meeting than Usagi was telling her?

	"Fortunately, this card usually indicates accurate, unbiased 
judgment. I *hope* that's a good thing."

	"But we're the good guys!" Usagi exclaimed. "If she's for 
justice, wouldn't she be an ally?"

	Rei sincerely hoped so. "Now take a look at Judgment." The last 
card showed an angel blowing a trumpet and people emerging from their 
graves, alive and healthy. There was no indication on the card as to 
what would happen to them next. "This usually signifies the ending of 
something. Along with endings, it means resurrecting the past--sort 
of a tying up of loose ends and telling everyone 'whodunit,' if you 
want to think of it that way. Now here's the funny part--this card 
can *also* signify 'rebirth' along with ending."

	Everyone nodded, even though Luna and Mamoru were the only ones 
who seemed to be getting the explanation. 

	Rei shuffled through the deck until she found the image of a 
dancing woman surrounded by a wreath of flowers, "The World is the 
card of the completion and perfection that follows the time of 
Judgment. If I'm right, and I'm pretty sure I am, the World 
symbolizes Crystal Tokyo, and Neo Queen Serenity's reign."

	The room was perfectly silent for several seconds before Rei 
continued. 

	"Remember what I said before, how the Fool can sometimes stand 
between Judgment and the World?" She waited while the implications of 
that statement sank in.

	"I see." Mamoru looked grim. "She's a wild card, she's an agent 
of change..." 

	"*And* two of the cards associated with her apparently stand 
between us and Crystal Tokyo, and there's no indication as to whether 
she's an enemy or an ally," Luna pointed out. The cat sighed and 
lashed her tail. "Just once, I'd love for us to be beset by tiny, 
insignificant problems with clear and simple solutions."

	"Monsters you could kill with a flyswatter and who call ahead 
for an appointment," Artemis said wistfully. "I'm with you on that 
one, Luna."

	"Now, I went ahead and did some readings on you, Mamoru-kun." 
When she saw the horrified look on his face, she apologized 
profusely. "I'm not trying to snoop, honest! I did my readings to see 
if they could give me some clue as to what this woman wanted."

	Usagi leaned forward eagerly. If anything, Mamoru looked even 
more agitated than before. What was going on here? First Michiru had 
started acting strangely, and now Mamoru and Usagi were joining in! 
Not for the first time, Rei thought that there was much more to this 
detective business than they'd told the group the other day. What was 
wrong with everyone? They were supposed to trust each other, weren't 
they?

	Rei cleared her throat and went on. The others would be here in 
a few minutes, and it wouldn't do to get angry. Besides, there was 
still more to explain. "It might be better to say that I've been 
*trying* to get some readings about you concerning all of this, 
Mamoru-kun, but it just isn't working. Watch."

	She rapidly dealt out ten cards in a cross-and-staff pattern, 
swept up the cards, then dealt them out again. Mamoru and Usagi were 
baffled at first, but after the third layout, Mamoru nodded.

	"It's coming up differently each time, isn't it?" he observed. 
It was subtle, but she could hear a note of relief in his voice.

	"Not only that, but each reading also contradicts itself. You 
get folly *and* wisdom, certainty *and* chance, progress *and* 
decline, and so on. Then, the final card always shows an outcome 
that's completely unrelated to anything else in the reading," the 
miko explained. "Even on the simpler readings, all I get is a bunch 
of random nonsense. Usually everyone has just two or three cards that 
act as a signifier, but I couldn't pin one down for you, Mamoru-kun."

	Usagi stared at the cards as if they were a serpent, coiled to 
strike. "So do these mixed-up readings mean that Mamo-chan's in 
danger?"

	"That's the problem. I don't know," said Rei. She addressed her 
next remarks directly to Mamoru. "The cards become even *more* random 
when I try to dig deeper into your past..."

	Mamoru's mouth thinned to a line, but said nothing. Usagi 
glanced anxiously at Rei and locked gazes with her, making a silent 
plea. Rei nodded in acknowledgement. So she *wasn't* the only one to 
notice that Mamoru was acting oddly. Whatever was going on, Usagi 
desperately wanted to talk about it--alone.

	"If you want to compare the cards to a sort of radio or 
television receiver, it's like I'm getting nothing but snow and 
static." She tried to gauge what Mamoru was thinking, but she could 
not. "Psychically speaking, you're essentially invisible."

	Usagi hugged herself and shivered.

	"Now what about the American?" Artemis asked. "It looked to me 
like you two had some kind of 'special moment' when you shook hands, 
Mamoru-kun." 

	If looks could kill, Artemis would be a pair of ear-muffs right 
about now, Rei thought.

	"I think I may have run into your American the other day," Rei 
said. She explained about the encounter outside of Mako-chan's 
apartment. "There's something about him that feels oddly familiar. As 
it turns out, he was there to meet with Detective Seidou, who 
interestingly enough, has the apartment right above Mako-chan's."

	"Ah, yes. The coincidences just keep on piling up," muttered 
Artemis.

	"Speaking of coincidences," Usagi said, making a face at Rei 
when she tried to shush her, "it turns out that Seidou-san's an old 
friend of my Mom's. This morning, Mom told me an interesting story 
about Seidou-san."

	As Usagi recounted the story she'd heard from her mother, the 
mood in the room became even gloomier.

	"That's more than interesting," said Luna. "I'd call that 
troubling. We'll have to have Ami look into her background--something 
I should have thought of earlier. Getting back to the subject, what 
were you able to find out about the American, Rei-chan?"

	Once more, Rei leafed through the deck, pulled out a card, and 
tossed it onto the table. It was the Knight of Cups. It showed a 
young man seated on a light gray horse and holding out a cup that 
looked suspiciously like Sailor Moon's grail.

	"This showed up as the first card every time I tried to get a 
reading on him," she explained. "What's funny is that half the time 
it shows up right side up, and half the time it shows up reversed." 
She reached out and pivoted the card to illustrate as she spoke. 
"Right side up, this card could describe an honest and intelligent 
young man. It could also suggest an ally from another land. The other 
way around, it signifies treachery and a betrayal of trust."

	Slowly, Mamoru reached out and picked up the card. For the next 
few minutes he simply stared at it, studying it, with an expression 
that Rei could not read.

	The silence was broken by another round of joyous cawing. The 
others must be coming up the steps. Any further speculation about the 
cards would just have to wait.



11:29 a.m.


	"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go-oh-oh, I wanna be 
sedated... Nothin' to do, no way to go home, I wanna be sedated..."

	The scenery wasn't exactly zooming by. Taiyouko, Jason had 
discovered, was one of those drivers who always stayed precisely one 
kilometer per hour below the speed limit. At least she'd agreed to 
take one of the department's cars. If he had to ride all the way to 
Kamakura in Taiyouko's little econo-box, he'd emerge looking like 
Quasimodo.

	"Get me to the airport and get me on a plane... Hurry-hurry-
hurry before I go insane... I can't control my fingers, I can't 
control my brain, no-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh..."

	At least the car trip gave him a chance for him to relax. He 
leaned back and looked at the scenery crawling by.

	"Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go-oh-oh, I wanna be 
sedated..."

	A sudden elbow in the rib cage made him sit up straight.

	"Wright, if you don't stop singing, then so help me, I *will* 
sedate you!"

	He glared at Taiyouko. That elbow had hurt! "Sorry," he 
growled. He'd gotten the song stuck in his head on endless repeat, 
but didn't realize he'd been singing it out loud. 

	The little spurt of energy he'd had that morning was gone. He 
was exhausted and in no mood to put up with Taiyouko's typical 
surliness. Maybe it was the fatigue talking, but he felt like 
Taiyouko was mad at *him* for some reason. Well, if she was, it was 
up to her to tell him why.

	The more time he spent with Taiyouko, the more he was tempted 
to ask her if she ever got tired of always being so angry all of the 
time. He couldn't recall a time he'd seen her when she wasn't at 
least a little pissed-off about *something*. On the other hand, he 
had work to do here. He honestly wouldn't mind dying in the line of 
duty, but getting himself clubbed to death with an overstuffed tote 
bag--and one decorated with gingham ducklings wearing little 
sunbonnets, at that--would not be a heroic or even productive way to 
leave this life.

	"So, is there anything else you'd like to go over with me 
before we get there?" he asked.

	"You're the one who dug up the Soviet angle on Renko, and 
you've read through my notes, so your as up on that as I am." 
Taiyouko ran through a rapid change of expressions, as if conducting 
a debate inside her mind. When she finally spoke, the unexpected 
change of subject nearly gave him whiplash.

	"Have you ever heard of Amaterasu?" she asked casually.

	Jason nodded. What did Amaterasu have to do with anything? 
"She's supposed to be the Kami of the sun, right? I think I remember 
that she had three sacred treasures, but I don't remember what they 
were." He was lucky he remembered even that much. Second grade was a 
long, long time ago.

	Taiyouko chuckled. "Got it in one, Wonder Boy. I'll admit, I 
wasn't expecting that. As for the treasures you mentioned, there was 
a mirror, a sword, and some jewel thingie. I think they were supposed 
to represent truth, justice, and one other thing, but I can't recall 
what it is."

	Jason was tempted to riff on the 'truth, justice, and the 
American Way' idea, but his ribs were still sore from where he'd been 
elbowed. "You know, the whole Amaterasu thing strikes me as weird, 
now that I think about it."

	"Weird? How so?"

	He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's because most sun 
deities are male, right? And aren't they usually the big guns? Ra, 
the Aztec gods, all those guys? Plus, Japan's not exactly big on 
women's rights."

	"Well, the ancient Japanese were unusually enlightened," 
Taiyouko snarled. "Too bad we seem to have lost all of that. Anyway, 
Kamakura's home to the Amanawa Shrine. It's been a shrine to 
Amaterasu for well over a thousand years. It's a miniature of the Ise 
Shrine--you know, the Imperial Family's shrine? The Amanawa shrine's 
usually pretty quiet. It doesn't get much in the way of tourist 
traffic, since Kamakura goes a bit overboard in promoting the Giant 
and Highly Overrated Statue of the Buddha. If you ask me, I think 
Amaterasu would be pissed."

	"You're telling me all this why, exactly?" he snapped. 
Taiyouko's flippant attitude towards religion bothered him more than 
he cared to admit. Besides, he *liked* the giant Buddha. He'd gone 
there on a field trip years and years ago, and had fond memories of 
it. They'd been allowed to go inside the statue itself, which to a 
six year old, had been on the same level of cool as taking a ride on 
a fire engine. 

	"This is supposed to be a cultural exchange program, right? 
Well, I'm being cultural." 

	Then, she laughed, and it seemed as if her mood had improved 
somewhat. "Actually, the Amanawa shrine's right near where we're 
going. There are some nice private homes in the hills around there," 
she said. "One of them's Renko's. It's not actually *his*, though. It 
turns out he's in a super-private and super-swanky nursing home--
that's why we didn't have a number listed for *him* as such. He used 
to a big piece of property nearby, though. He signed it over to his 
daughter when he went into the home. Nice little tax dodge, that."

	"I'll say." Jason wondered how on earth a foreigner, and one 
from a communist country at that, had been able to afford property in 
Japan. Back in the States, they'd been having trouble with Russian 
immigrants getting into organized crime. Maybe Renko had started up 
something similar here in Japan. "How long has he been in the nursing 
home?"

	"Just a couple of years. He's got to be pushing ninety by now." 
She glanced at Jason and grimaced. "Here's hoping he's not in there 
for Alzheimer's or something like that. I want to get something 
*useful* out of this interview."

	"His doctors didn't give you a hassle about going in to 
interview him?" 

	"They didn't sound too thrilled, but what are they going to do 
about it?" she said cheerfully.

	Jason sighed in envy. The Japanese police certainly had a lot 
more leeway when it came to interviewing suspects or conducting a 
search or seizure. It must be nice, he thought. He leaned back, 
trying to get another few moments of rest before he had to be in 
detective mode. With any luck, this trip would be both productive 
*and* uneventful. Then he could go back to Keisuke's and sleep for 
fourteen hours. As he dozed, the song that had been stuck in his head 
for several days now, the one he'd tried to get rid of by mentally 
listening to the Ramones, trickled back into his inner ear.

	"Hope you have got your things together... Hope you are quite 
prepared to die... Looks like we're in for nasty weather... One eye 
is taken for an eye..."

	This time, he got punched in the arm--hard.

	"Wright, what did I just tell you about the singing?"

	"Sorry."

	Although Jason remained silent for the rest of the ride, John 
Fogarty's voice went on in his mind.

	*Don't go 'round tonight, for it's bound to take your life... 
There's a bad moon on the rise...*



						#  #  #


Author's Notes:

First of all, a great big "thank you" to Ice Princess and Luna Hope, 
who have been a *huge* help as beta readers.

By the way, the 'what's-her-name from Rei's school' is Kotono/Kate, 
and she appeared in the Black Moon arc in the manga.

Tapas = Bite-sized pieces of Spanish yumminess.

Manga/anime divergence: In the Stars arc, Mamoru is killed by Galaxia 
as he is going to America to study medicine. In the anime, this 
happens on the plane on the way there. In the manga, Mamoru is killed 
in the airport *while Usagi is watching.* Obviously, I'm following 
the manga on this one.

Tanabata is a festival that is celebrated on July 7. There's actually 
a Sailor Moon Tanabata story at the end of Vol. 10 of the manga. I 
will warn you, however, that those with even the teeniest bit of 
feminist sensibility will want to hurl objects at the wall after 
reading it.

"I Wanna Be Sedated" is, of course, by the Ramones. May you rest in 
peace, Joey and Dee-Dee. "Bad Moon Rising" is by Creedence Clearwater 
Revival.