And now for something completely different… This tale is a departure from the storyline I started with in “Fatal Exposure” and continued in "Full Circle". After almost two solid years I need a short break from the end of the world and the rise of Crystal Tokyo. Book three of that trilogy is called “The Quest” and in the planning stages right now. I hope to get the first chapter of it out in a few months. As always many and abundant thanks go out to Masked Maiden for the Gift of her support, suggestions and proofreading skills. Is this girl great or what?! Please write to me at Mearari@aol.com and let me know what you think of my work. Authors can only grow through feedback and yours would be greatly appreciated! All mail is answered, even flames… Please note that this story is rated “R”. While you could probably encounter more blood, sex and violence in an episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, the mother in me needs to warn younger or more sensitive readers. Oh, and the mother in me also wants to tell you to go clean your room! Standard Disclaimer – I do not now, nor have I ever claimed to own “Sailor Moon” or the attendant characters to which valid copyright laws apply. Even though I don’t mention them at all in this story, I do claim to own the S’Eyre, their Imperium, a 1997 Dodge Neon with about 35,000 miles on it and modicum of sanity. ************************ “Seduction” By Meara Chapter One – “Into the Storm” ************************ The first true heat wave of the season held Tokyo in a sweltering embrace. The daytime temperatures had reached or exceeded one hundred degrees every day for the last week. The sticky nights brought no relief, enshrouding the city in a cloying fog that burned off only an hour or so after sunrise. The Dean’s waiting room was, at least, air conditioned for which Chiba Mamoru was very thankful. It was over one hundred degrees outside and the suit Mamoru wore was made of wool – summer weight wool, but wool nevertheless and it made him itch. Or maybe it was his own nervousness that made him itchy, Mamoru decided. Harvard had been less than understanding about his situation. For some reason they had trouble accepting the excuse that he’d been attacked on his way to the United States and was incapacitated for several months. True, Mamoru hadn’t exactly given them all the details of his “accident”, but he knew that a minute description would only add to his problems. “Well, this woman in golden armor showed up on the wing of the plane I was traveling on. She ripped the soul right out of me and added It to her personal collection of star seeds. Basically I’ve been dead for the last few months, but as you can see, I’m much better now. Did I mention that among my hobbies is dressing up in a tuxedo and fighting the forces of darkness? So, is the offer to study at your University still open?” For some reason, the people in Cambridge, Massachusetts were not as open minded about extra-terrestrials as the people in Tokyo were and even his abridged version of events was met with polite skepticism. Mamoru found himself secretly wishing that the next time some evil doer decided to conquer Earth they’d start with the greater Boston area for a change. A few months of dealing with the denizens of the Black Moon Clan or the Dark Kingdom would do wonders for their rather stuffy attitudes. Chiba Mamoru managed to keep a satisfied smirk from his face as the pleasant fantasy of the Chancellor of Harvard being vigorously pursued by a Youma (and a really big one at that!) played out in his head. Mamoru nervously glanced at his watch. The interview that would allow him to reenter Tokyo University should have started twenty minutes ago. He sighed softly and reached for a magazine on the table next to him To keep from thinking about all the things that could go wrong. What he saw made him stop thinking about his current educational situation all right. In fact, it grabbed his attention like a bulldog and held him riveted. The pulp magazine was several months old and devoted to entertainment. When Mamoru opened it a familiar face caught his eye. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. There in living color, and on the arm of Kou Seiya, was Usagi, smiling and looking up at the idol. The image of Usagi on the arm of another man was disturbing enough, but it was the expression on the face of Seiya that really hit home. He looked at the petite blonde with the eyes of a man head over heels in love. That other men could be attracted to his Usako wasn’t exactly news to Mamoru. In the past, however, those men had been people like the alien Ail or the obsessive Prince Demando – men who never really stood a chance with Usagi. But someone like this Kou Seiya was another story. Mamoru knew that something had gone on between the two during the time he was gone. The last cryptic exchange between himself and Seiya was bothering Mamoru more and more lately. In the moment their eyes met, Mamoru could almost hear the thoughts of Kou Seiya. Cherish her, those eyes said, because if you don’t, I will! He continued to stare at the photograph for a long moment before firmly putting the magazine back. Mamoru had avoided directly asking Usagi just what had gone on. Until now, after preferring to let the subject drop, he suddenly wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea after all. “Chiba-san?” a female voice broke into his thoughts and Mamoru looked up at the secretary. “Dr. Nigamo will see you now.” That would have to wait, Mamoru knew. Right now he had to concentrate on the matter at hand. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, and thanking the secretary, Chiba Mamoru walked into the office of the Dean with all the confidence he could muster. *************************************** Hino Rei could think of about ten words that would easily describe the weather right now. Since nine of those words, if spoken aloud, would result in her having to write a punishment essay about language unbecoming to a young lady, she opted for the safest one instead. It would have to do for now. “Miserable,” she sighed, trying to find a way to walk that wouldn’t cause her First School for Girls uniform to ride up her butt. Since the material used in it was mostly polyester that was almost impossible. Rei resisted the overwhelming urge to claw at it as she moved towards the gate that led to the sidewalk. Sister Mary Angelica was on duty that hazy afternoon, standing Silently to supervise the release of the students back into the city. The Sisters of Mercy (and precious little they had of it, was the old joke on campus) ran the First School for Girls with a hand only slightly less rigid that the wrought iron of the institution’s front gates. One girl called Rei’s name and waved goodbye as she moved out and into the steamy city. Rei smiled politely and waved back. The hand then brushed a lock of the raven hair away from where it stuck to her damp face as she headed home. Despite the fact that she had friends at the First School, Rei had never been truly comfortable there. Hino Rei knew she was different and knew the reason why. She had a special destiny as one of the five Senshi of the Inner planets – the ones entrusted with the honor and duty of protecting the last Princess of the Silver Millennium. She was Mars, the beautiful sailor suited soldier of fire and heiress to powers that protected not only her Princess, but Earth as well. Unlike a lot of the girls at the First School, she didn’t go home to a luxury air conditioned apartment or house. The Hikawa Shrine was well over three hundred years old. While it didn’t have many modern conveniences, it did have an old fashioned one. The baths at the Hikawa Shrine were fed by a well spring so deep that those waters were always cold, even at the height of summer. Right now all Rei wanted to do was climb into one of the giant wooden tubs and sit in water that was at least thirty degrees below the air temperature. The heat now radiated back upwards from the concrete sidewalk, Bringing with it the strange “city smell” that seemed to permeate the cement after baking in the sun - the vaguely nauseating scent that usually didn’t start until August or so. That she could smell it now did not bode well for a temperate summer this year. With only two more weeks until summer break, Rei was counting down the days. The last few months had, at least, been blessedly quiet. There were lingering scars from the battle with Galaxia (no, Rei reminded herself, not Galaxia but the being called Chaos who had possessed her) and they all needed time to heal from them. Rei buried herself in the comfortable peace and timeless routines of temple life. No matter what was happening in the world around them, the stone courtyards would always need to be swept and the wood for the ever-burning sacred fire cut and stacked. At last the massive stone steps of the Hikawa Shrine, worn smooth by centuries of use, loomed in front of her and Rei gave a slow sigh before starting to ascend them. She smiled as she saw the tops of the trees in full leaf that lined her home. The promise of cool shade and a sweet breeze made the thought of mounting the steep stairs less of a chore. Her foot had barely touched the bottom stair when she heard it. In a heartbeat her safe and predictable world came completely undone. “Hello, princess,” came a smooth, male voice. In spite of the fact that she was dreadfully hot, a cold sweat suddenly covered Rei’s body and she turned sharply. Although she’d only seen him a handful of times in the last twelve years, Rei knew that voice at once. He was sitting behind the wheel of an expensive sports car, a jaunty smile on his still handsome face. “Hello, princess,” the man repeated, opening the door to get out. “Surprised to see me?” “D…daddy?” Rei stumbled over the word, mentally kicking herself for allowing his appearance to fluster her. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but the anger in her voice was still very easy to hear. “What are you doing here?” Hino Rokojou bristled almost imperceptibly, his black eyes narrowing at his daughter’s tone of voice. He quickly regained his composure. “I’m back in Tokyo for a couple of days and thought I might take you out to dinner. Come on.” He started up the long stone stairs without looking back to see if Rei was following him. “Why don’t you change into something a bit nicer first and we’ll go somewhere cool.” Rei could feel her face getting warmer and she unconsciously began to grind her back teeth in frustration at his attitude. She moved up the steps, putting on a burst of speed to pass him and get to the top first. Rei saw her father grimace as she did so and allowed herself a smug smile at his reaction. Her father hadn’t changed. He still hated second place. “Welcome home, Rei,” came her grandfather’s voice as she cleared the last step. “I made some of the herbal ice tea you like so much and it’s in the…” his voice trailed off as Hino Rokojou walked into the courtyard. “…icebox.” The silence that descended like a pall was very unpleasant. The young woman coughed nervously as the two men eyed each other. If looks could kill, both her father and grandfather would be pushing up daisies right about now, Rei suspected. “Hello, Okibi-san,” Hino finally said, looking down at the small man. “You go ahead and change, princess. Your grandfather and I have some catching up to do.” Okibi Souji, Shinto Priest and owner of the Hikawa Shrine inclined his head towards his granddaughter. “Go ahead, Rei.” “But Grampa…” Rei wasn’t sure if leaving them alone was a good idea. Souji turned his head in Rei’s direction. He was getting on in years, but he was still able to be quite forceful when he chose to be. The look on his face told Rei that he would not brook any argument from her right now. “Fine, be that way,” grumbled Rei, throwing up her hands as she walked away. “Try not to kill each other, ne? It’s too hot for me to have clean up the courtyard tonight.” The small priest waited just long enough for Rei to disappear into the private rooms that made up the house. “What the hell are you doing here?” he growled at Hino Rokojou. The taller man folded his arms across his chest as he looked at his father-in-law. “Such an angry tone, Okibi-san,” he clucked. “I thought priests believed in forgiveness.” “You’ve been in the West too long,” Okibi Souji’s voice was heavy with scorn. “You’re confusing me with the Christians. I’m a Shinto. We believe in revenge.” “You’re talking nonsense, old man.” The appearance of politeness vanished abruptly from Hino. “I have no idea what you’re trying to get at.” “I am not going to play this game with you, boy,” Okibi said in a soft voice. “Have your dinner with Rei and then go back to wherever it is you came from. I won’t tolerate you upsetting her life anymore than you all ready have.” The old priest turned his back on Hino, starting to walk away before he’d even finished speaking. That action of disrespect angered Hino Rokojou and he reached out to grab the smaller man’s shoulder. “You have no right to speak to me like that.” That hand never touched the Souji. Without even turning to look the Old man caught the hand and gave it a deft twist that made Hino Rokojou give a bark of pain. It seemed that Hino never learned. “Try that again and I’ll break it next time,” Okibi gave a final twist, then released the larger man. He walked away once more, not even looking over his shoulder as he spoke his final words to Hino. “Have Rei back before it gets too late. She has school in the morning and Kami knows seeing you will upset her enough as it is.” The hand was all ready beginning to swell and Hino Rokojou gingerly massaged it. The diminutive priest disappeared into the Shrine, sliding a door shut behind him in a last gesture of dismissal. “Oh no, old man,” Hino stared at the closed door. “The days when you dictate to me are about to end. *************************************** Although he’d not seen the sun in over one hundred and fifty years, Kudoko Akuma had always made it a point to know exactly when the sunrise and sunset times were, no matter where in the world he traveled. A copy of “The Old Farmer’s Almanac” sat on his coffee table, the dog-eared pages silent testament to his faithful use of it. Unlike most people, the desire to know exactly when sunrise and sunset were was much more than a hobby – his existence depended on it. The spacious apartment he now rented had only recently been converted from use as a storage facility and was just what he needed. The small windows were very high up on the walls and more for show than to allow light into the room. He could sense the approaching darkness even through the heavy draperies that covered them and prowled the living room like a caged predator, edgy with anticipation of what was coming. A large, antique print, ink on finely made silk, dominated almost half of one wall. He stopped his pacing, considering the scene it portrayed. It was of a fishing village and had been painted before the Meiji restoration. Kudoko Akuma knew every line, every nuance and hint of shadow on the silk painting better than he knew his own face. He’d looked at the print every day for over a hundred years. His own face he’d not seen in so long that he barely remembered what he looked like. The picture was of the village he’d lived in as a boy. When Akuma had seen it in a merchant’s shop in 1898, he’d asked the price for it. The merchant unwisely declined to sell it to him. Kudoko killed the man on the spot and took what he wanted. He’d come a long way from that small rural village, but the memories of it still had a hold on him that he couldn’t quite comprehend. His people had worshipped a local “god” who kept them safe from pirates and the bands of outlaws who prowled the countryside so pervasively in those days. The god’s demands were really quite reasonable. Each year, during cherry blossom time, the petty god would choose a youth from among the village’s children. On the day before his fourteenth birthday, Kudoko was chosen. The youngest son of a poor fisherman, he had the one quality that the “god” prized above all others. Akuma was beautiful. His hair was darker than a raven’s wing and impossibly fine. His large sea green eyes were a rarity among the interbred villagers, striking and vivid. Even his face held the perfection of an angel in it, handsome yet beautiful at the same time. The innocent boy he had been thought he was going to a celestial realm to live with the deity. He quickly learned that the only place he was going to was hell – and he would be trapped in it for the next seven years. The local “god” was in reality a vampire so old that he remembered the first Emperors of Japan. The Master, as he liked to be called, treasured the kind of physical beauty that Kudoko possessed. He shattered any illusions of paradise the first night Akuma came to him. In a twisted orgy of blood, pain and pleasure he took the boy hard and fast. The nightmarish attack culminated in Akuma being forced to drink the vampire’s tainted blood. With that ingestion of blood his “pretty toy”, as the Master liked to call Akuma, became his slave, bound to him in way that only the vampire’s death could sunder. The Master took his time with his pretty toy after that first night. Young Akuma learned that he continued to live only by his master’s sufferance. The ancient vampire played his games with the fragile mortal boy; seducing Akuma with indescribable pleasure one moment, breaking him with excruciating pain the next. By the time his fifteenth birthday came, there was nothing left of the innocent child who had willingly given himself in sacrifice for the good of his village. Years passed and other toys came and went around him but Akuma remained his Mater’s favorite. Finally, when Kudoko was about twenty or so, the Master seemed to notice that his treasured toy was aging. Unwilling to lose the beauty of his slave, the Master did the only thing he could to ensure that he would posses it forever. He slowly and carefully drained Akuma over the course of several nights. The dizzying dance of death was masked by a rapture so intense it blotted out every other consideration. When the Master opened a vein the first night and commanded his slave to drink, Akuma was all ready so weak he could barely suck a few drops into his mouth. The process was repeated after three days and marked the third time Kudoko Akuma had taken the vampire’s blood into himself. When his lips were pressed to a shallow cut the Master had made on his chest Akuma latched on to it, strength flowing into him with the cursed blood. He fed greedily at what was offered to him, drinking with a ravenous thirst the likes of which he’d never known before. The sweet, coppery taste of his Master’s blood in his mouth faded and the unnatural strength it had given him ebbed as quickly. Akuma slipped into the darkness of death, hoping that he was free at last from the servitude and misery of the last seven years. But the magic his ancient Master had set to work within him denied Akuma even that. The thirst that had consumed him in his last moments of life awakened Kudoko as night came. He fell on the girl his master had brought to him, draining her quickly and without thought. As his dreadful thirst finally slackened Kudoko Akuma knew the truth of what he had become. That revelation didn’t bother him too terribly much. Akuma had long ago decided that there were two kinds of people in this world – those who used others and those were used. Having been the latter, he vowed to become the former. More powerful now, Kudoko was unhappy to find that he was still a slave to the one who had made him. That fact was brought unpleasantly home the first time he tried to defy the Master and leave the village. The elder vampire beat him savagely, nearly drained him dry and left Kudoko in a dark cellar for months, alive but unable to do more than beg for a release that would not come to him. When he was judged by his master to be sufficiently chastened, Akuma was released and the elder started to teach his toy what he needed to know to survive. It was during that time Kudoko came to realize that knowledge was the key to power. Practicing the skills he’d been taught Kudoko’s first seduction of was of a woman from a neighboring village. She was as plain as rice paper on the surface but she had the one thing Kudoko needed almost as much as blood. She had knowledge and the ability to teach. Through her Akuma learned to read and write first in Kanji, then in the other languages she knew. He held her in thrall for over fifty years and she gave him the key to obtain the power that would lead him to his freedom from the Master. When Kudoko Akuma discovered that there was no more to learn from her, he thanked her and then killed her quickly. It was the only kind of mercy he knew. He began, quietly at first, to study magic, both dark and light. There had to be a way to break the hold his maker had on him and Akuma became obsessed with finding it. The Master may have known what he was up to, but was so old and so powerful that he never seriously considered that his “pretty toy” could pose a real threat to him. That conceit was what allowed Kudoko to lure the Master to his destruction in the end. Free now, he continued to study magic even as the wonders of the twentieth century dawned. He saw his native land reopened at gunpoint to the rest of the world. Kudoko traveled from the land of the Rising Sun on great steamships, ventured across Asia and Europe in trains and then automobiles. Times changed but Kudoko’s need to learn didn’t. He studied the magics of East and West, of civilizations that fell before he was born. His personal power grew as did his ambitions. It was during the last decade of the twentieth century that he made the discovery that would give him the opportunity he’d so long desired. Like most monumental discoveries it was more accident than intent. An incantation with a single mistranslated word brought him face to face with one of the great demons. The creature was trapped behind the Seal of Light but Kudoko had accidentally found a way to thin that mystic barrier. That chance meeting set him on the path he now walked. The small mantle clock, a relic of the nineteenth century, chimed lightly, breaking into his reverie. It was five o’clock. Sundown was in only a few hours. Kudoko Akuma shook his head, clearing it of thoughts from the past. Trying to settle his mind and order his thoughts Kudoko went to a lavish desk and sat down. The massive piece of oak furniture had been made in England during the last years of the nineteenth century. It was one of the few things that he had kept over the long decades as he was forced to reinvent himself dozens of times in order to avoid attention. In a drawer he kept locked, Kudoko pulled out an ornate ceramic bowl. It was eggshell thin and hand painted with a design from a folk story popular in the remote Russian village of the craft master who had made it. A firebird, blazing plumage in full display, circled the bowl. Blossoms of fire and rainbow sparks danced in the creature’s wake as it reached for the sun. Kudoko took a moment to admire the workmanship of it before pulling out a matching ceramic vessel. He popped the cork in it, pouring the viscous, blue liquid into the bowl as he chanted softly. The last word of the incantation was breathed across the top of the oily fluid and he waited. The blue liquid darkened, churning slightly to rise along the lip of the bowl before settling once more. Like a veil parting, an image slowly became visible. It was little more than a piece of darkness itself, but a darkness with eyes that burned like banked coals. the voice whispered in his mind. It slithered about in Kudoko’s psyche, seeking a weakness to take advantage of. “Tonight I take the first step in acquiring it.” Kudoko said with a grim smile. He could feel the demon trying to find a way to take control of him, but as always, was unable to. The oily waters bubbled and frothed one last time before the image disappeared. The darkness moved, roiling with anticipation. The scrying bowl had a thin layer of frost building against it, distorting the image in the liquid. “I know what needs to be done. Very soon I’ll have the means to break the seal that holds you.” the creature hissed. The oily waters stilled once more and the scrying bowl was put Carefully down. A large manila folder on the desk held a series of photographs and Kudoko leafed through it quickly. The most prominent face was that of Chiba Mamoru. Kudoko’s green eyes narrowed as he considered the man. As Chiba Mamoru or as Tuxedo Kamen, he was a formidable opponent and not one to be disregarded lightly. Especially, the vampire had come to observe, when it came to any perceived threat to Sailor Moon. It was true that his study of Chiba Mamoru had led him to his ultimate target, the one who held the power of the Moon, Tsukino Usagi. However, other factors had come to light that disturbed vampire. He flipped through the pictures he had of the Senshi, shaking his head slowly. He lingered for a very long moment when he came to a picture of Sailor Mars, letting one finger trace the outline of her lithe body before moving on. The young woman who held the Ginzuishou had too many powerful guardians for a frontal assault to work. Any one of them could make a very quick and painful end to his ambitions. The last picture in the pile was that of a young man with blonde hair. Taking it in one hand, Akuma held it up and smiled. “Furuhata Motoki,” Kudoko breathed softly. He cocked an eyebrow, as if accessing the strengths of the young man in the picture. “You will be of great help to me – starting tonight.” *************************************** It was like eating in a fishbowl, but very comfortable one at least. The people in the restaurant had driven here in their air conditioned cars, rode up to the top floor the restaurant occupied in an air conditioned elevator and now ate their meals in climate controlled comfort. Rei glanced around, noticing that several of the women had slipped on light sweaters against the chill in the room. She shook her head as she looked out the window, noticing that the pervasive humidity had caused a thin sheen of moisture to build up on the plate glass. It only added to the feeling of separation from the rest of the city. “It’s another world,” she mumbled to herself. “Indeed it is, princess,” her father said, using his fork to push around the small plate of greens. “One you should be a part of.” “You misunderstand me,” Rei’s voice dripped with scorn. “These people are so disconnected from the ‘real world’ that some of them don’t even seem to know what season it is.” Hino Rokojou set his fork down. “For the kind of money they charge for dinner here you’d think they could make a decent salad. Too much balsamic vinegar for my taste.” Rei looked at her own dinner. The tiny portion of beef was artfully decorated with carved pieces of vegetables and even a flower at the very top of the bone china plate. “For what they charge for dinner here you could feed three people for a week.” “That’s your Grandfather talking, not you,” her father replied. The blood was rushing to Rei’s face and she could feel it growing hot. “How would you know? This is the first time I’ve seen you in over a year.” The fork was back in Hino’s hand again. “That’s not all my fault, princess. It’s true my work keeps me very busy, but things have been strained between your Grandfather and I since your mother died.” “Your work,” Rei snorted. “And the branch of the Japanese consulate in Akron, Ohio is such a hotbed of international activity that keeps you much too busy to pick up a telephone or write me a letter, I guess.” Hino looked around to make sure his daughter’s comments hadn’t been overheard by any of the other diners. “I’ll thank you to not take that tone with me and to keep your voice down. I’ve never neglected my responsibilities towards you.” “Money isn’t everything, Daddy. It doesn’t make up for the fact that I never see you or hear from you.” For an instant her violet eyes welled up with tears that Rei had to fight back. She would not let him see how much it hurt! The face of Hino Rokojou softened for a minute. “You have your mother’s eyes, you know. Such a delicate violet, like the color of the sky at sunset.” The momentary slip of the mask faded and his face grew controlled once more. “I may have a way to be able to see you more often, princess.” Rei wasn’t sure why, but a chill ran down her spine as he spoke. “And that would be?” “That’s why I’m back in Tokyo. There’s a…” he paused, his eyes growing remote as he considered exactly how much he wanted Rei to know. “…a job coming open that I’m very interested in pursuing,” his eyes were bright with an almost childlike excitement. “If I take it would mean my moving back here to Tokyo. If I was living in the city again, there’s no reason you couldn’t come and live with me, is there?” “You’d want me to live with you?” the idea shocked her. Her view of her father was built on the fact that he wanted nothing to do with her. “That would mean leaving the temple and Grandpa…” A sly smile crossed Hino’s face. “It’d be up to you, of course. “Just promise me you’ll consider it, ne?” Rei could only nod mutely. To cover her utter surprise she looked out the picture window. The sun was setting, dark clouds that signaled an approaching storm swallowing it up. Pleased that he’d been able to get Rei to see things his way, Hino was now feeling expansive. He gestured curtly with one hand at the waiter. “Shall we see what they have for dessert?” *************************************** The oppressive heat didn’t wane with the setting sun. The sultry, tropical air was stirring now, a breeze that signaled the oncoming thunderstorms springing up. Her long, sunshine hair blowing in the rising wind, Usagi stood on the balcony of Mamoru’s apartment. She silently looked out over the city as one by one the streetlights came to life. The radio was on and she could hear it in the background. “The bad news is that the National Weather Service has issued a severe thunderstorm watch for Tokyo and the adjoining provinces. This means that conditions are right to produce storms that may contain heavy downpours, frequent and vivid lightening and strong winds in excess of fifty kilometers an hour.” The evening DJ was obviously reading off a prepared script and he sounded slightly bored with it. He became more cheerful as he ended his speech. “The good news is that this means that the heat wave that has been making Tokyo sizzle for the last week will soon just be a sweaty memory. Speaking of sizzling memories, let’s listen to one my favorites by the Three Lights, ‘Todokanu Omi’. Taiki, Yaten, Seiya, if you can here me boys, we miss you and hope you’ll come out of retirement soon.” Mamoru came back into his living room at the tail end of the announcement, carrying a small tray containing two glasses of iced lemonade. Placing it on the coffee table, he went to join Usagi on the balcony. Something was not right with her, Mamoru knew. But exactly what that “something” was, he couldn’t pinpoint. Things had happened during the battle with Galaxia that haunted her - that much he was sure of. Usagi had told him that she was having vivid nightmares, but never the details of them. Mamoru knew that pressing Usagi would only make it worse. That lesson had been learned after the struggle with Master Pharoah 90. In the days after she’d reappeared with baby Hotaru in her arms, Usagi had become increasingly withdraw, retreating into herself in a manner that frightened Mamoru. She’d never been at a loss for words before and Mamoru thought that Usagi just needed to be coaxed into getting it all out in the open. Determined to find the root of the problem, the pragmatic prince of earth gently but persistently dragged a few details out of Usagi the night after Haruka and Michiru had left. Much to his horror, Mamoru realized too late that he’d made a terrible mistake. It wasn’t that Usagi didn’t know how to tell him what happened – she had blocked most of it out. Severely traumatized by the battle and unable to cope with the memories, the pain and the guilt she felt, Usagi had pushed all of it into a small place in her mind and locked it away. Usagi wept hysterically for hours that night, repeating three words, “no more fighting”, over and over in a fashion that made Mamoru fear for her sanity. He had forced a breach in the protective barrier she’d put in place much too soon and she spent months paying the price for his error. Mamoru stood patiently by Usagi on the days when she regressed into bouts of childishness, never once criticizing her for it. That particular behavior always meant she was on the verge of having another chuck of the horrific memories overtake her. It took defeating Nephelenia for Usagi to finally regain enough emotional stability to put that self destructive conduct behind her. Slipping his arms around Usagi’s waist, Mamoru knew he was walking a very thin line in trying to find out what was really bothering her. His misjudgment of a situation had once hurt the woman he loved more than any physical wound ever could. Chiba Mamoru was not a man to repeat his errors. “You’re very quiet tonight, Usako” he said, placing a light kiss on the nape of her neck. “Want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” Usagi hummed in delight at the sweet shiver that went down her spine. “Seiya.” He grumbled in mock anger, putting his chin on the top of her head. “You’re in my apartment and you’re thinking about another man?” Usagi laughed, the sweet sound making Mamoru relax a little. “That’s part of the problem, Mamo-chan. Seiya was a guy who morphed into a girl. I’m still working that one out. Oh, did I tell you I had someone from one of those gossip newspapers you see at the checkout line stand at the Supermarket ask me if I knew where Seiya went?” “You didn’t…” Mamoru laughed as he realized what she’d done. “Yep, I told him the truth. The Three Lights, idols of millions of girls, have gone to build a new life with their princess.” She let Mamoru take her by the hand and lead her inside. “Can I help if I’m not a very good liar?” The door had no sooner shut behind them than a flash of lightening lit the apartment up. Usagi screeched in surprise and fear as the lights flickered off for a second. The rumble of thunder followed seconds later, indicating that the storm was still miles away. Mamoru pulled Usagi close and gave her a kiss that was meant to be tender and comforting. At least that’s how it started out. Usagi slipped her arms up his back and molded her body to his, seeking more than just reassurance. The kiss deepened and Mamoru felt himself responding to her innocent ardor. Her hands slipped up under his shirt and her fingers danced across his back, snaked around to stroke the smooth muscles of his chest while she rubbed her body against his. He started to place hot kisses down her neck, nibbling at her earlobe as he went. “Usako,” he whispered her name and took in the scent of her skin and hair. She gave a hum of pleasure at what he was doing and her own hands moved down his back, teasing Mamoru and encouraging him to be even bolder. Mamoru’s hand strayed towards her breast and began to gently caress it. “Oh, Mamo-chan,” she moaned softly while he traced light patterns across the sensitive skin, “That feels so good.” Her breathless, passionate whisper broke through the haze that had overtaken Mamoru’s mind. “No, we have to stop. You don’t know what you’re doing.” “Why? Am I doing it wrong?” her voice was soft, holding a confused worry that she was somehow offending him. He moaned with more than just frustration. “Oh God no, you’re doing it all very right.” He tried to take control of the situation before he lost ability to think clearly. “Usako, you aren’t ready for this.” “Yes I am,” she looked into his midnight blue eyes, her face close to his. “I know what I want. I want you, Mamo-chan.” She was so beautiful, so honest in her naive passion that it made his heart twist painfully to look at her. “This is a very big step. There can be consequences I’m not sure you’re prepared for.” She brought a finger up to his lips to silence him. “I’ve all ready thought of that. I’m on the pill; I have been for a couple of months now. My parents are out of town tonight and Shingo is staying with a friend from school. I can stay with you tonight.” A look of pain spread across her face as a thought came to her. “Unless, you don’t want me…?” He took her face in his hands, looked deeply into her eyes. “I want you, Usako - I’ve wanted you for so long.” “Then why should we wait?” Usagi’s hands moved to his arms, sliding up them in motion that made him shiver with longing. “We love each other and this feels so right. When you touch me I want you to…to…” she growled in frustration. “I’m not sure what I want you to do but I really want you to do it!” For a virgin she was frightening good at seduction, Mamoru thought. “Do you have any idea of what’s going to happen if we go through with this?” A sweet blush came to Usagi’s face. “A little. I know it can hurt the first time, but I’m not afraid.” She leaned into Mamoru with a sigh. “I trust you Mamo-chan and I love you.” He kissed her hair, trying to keep his own raging hormones under control. “That’s something else we’ve never really talked about.” Mamoru pulled away little, catching her eyes. “This isn’t my first time with a woman. There have been others. And there’s a part of my past I’ve never told you about…” She smiled gently. “If it’s in the past then that’s where it should stay. In a way I’m glad you’ve done this before. At lease one of us will know what they’re doing, ne?” Mamoru’s was losing a battle he really didn’t want to be fighting. One last protest came to his mind and he paused to carefully consider his words. “You’ve been through a lot lately. I don’t want to take advantage of you. Maybe we should wait until things aren’t so fresh in your memory.” “Don’t ask me to wait.” Tears welled up in her crystal blue eyes, cutting Mamoru to the bone with the pain in them. “You were gone, Mamo-chan,” she whispered softly. “You were gone and I’d never made love to you. Please, don’t send me away. I need to be with you tonight.” Chiba Mamoru wasn’t sure if it was his own need for her, or the depth of her need for him that finally convinced him. He went to one knee and taking her hand in his, raised it to his lips in courtly gesture. “Then stay with me, my princess. Let me give you a night you will never forget. Please, allow me the matchless honor of making love to you.” She nodded her reply and Mamoru swept her up into his arms. The sky finally broke open, the storm raging outside as he carried her into his bedroom, but they didn’t notice it. After a thousand years this night belonged to them alone and the sweetness of it made it more than worth the wait. *************************************** The heat wave was breaking at last. A small room in the very back of the building that housed both the Crown Fruit Parlor and the adjoining arcade served as the office. With no air conditioning and only a single window that over looked a dingy alley it was not the most pleasant place to work on a night like this. Furuhata Motoki sighed and ran a hand across his sweating brow. He’d pried the swollen wooden window open, allowing at least a little air to flow into the cramped and stale office. There was the sound of not too distant thunder and the breeze carried the scent of rain on it. He finished double checking his calculations then started to stuff neatly wrapped piles of yen notes into the deposit bag on the desk. All he had to do was put it in the large and impressive looking safe and he could be on his way. With any luck, Motoki thought, he might just be able to beat the rain home. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the sky opened up. Sheets of torrential rain started to come in the window, blown in by the sudden and gusty winds that accompanied the storm. With a muffled curse Motoki leapt up to close it. He’d just settled back into the chair when a clap of thunder resounded with a boom that made the entire building shake. The lights flickered off for a second then grudgingly came back up. When they did, Motoki found himself facing a handsome young man in the doorway. “Gyaaah!” Motoki shouted, nearly falling out of the chair. “Sorry,” the man said, green eyes snapping with amusement. He looked to be only a little older than Motoki. His hands were stuffed casually into the pockets of his khaki pants. “I thought you heard me knock. May I come in? My name is Kudoko Akuma and I’m here about the night job that I’ll be starting at your restaurant and arcade.” “Night job - what night job?” Motoki repeated, flustered. No one told him anything about a new employee. “Please come in,” he said waving the man into the room. His heart was still jumping around in his chest like a frightened rabbit. “There’s must be some mistake. We’re not hiring right now.” A hand came out of one pocket to push a strand of blue black hair away from his eyes. “You are Furuhata Motoki, ne?” he asked confidently. “Well, yes…” Motoki started. How did this man know who he was? “Then there’s been no mistake,” Kudoko said softly. “At least not on my part. Your mistake, however, was inviting me into the room.” Between one blink of an eye and the next Kudoko Akuma leapt at Motoki. Before the shocked youth could even draw a breath to shout he found himself pulled out of the chair and rammed into the wall in back of the desk. Kudoko used only one arm to hold him in place. The other hand reached out and ripped open the top of Motoki’s shirt. Green eyes closed as Kudoko inhaled sharply then slid slowly open again as he exhaled. They had changed in color and appearance and, slitted like a cat’s, were now a vivid and disturbing red. Growling softly Kudoko leaned forward, curling his lips to show two thin, razor sharp canine teeth that slowly extended into a pair of fangs. Motoki’s eyes widened with surprise and fear. “You’re right to be frightened, boy,” Kudoko tipped his head back, mouth opening wide. “This is going to be quite painful for a moment.” A clap of thunder drowned out the cry Motoki made as Kudoko plunged down, incisors piercing the soft flesh at the base of the neck and nicking the carotid artery. Blood, warm and laced with the sharp, acrid tang of fear pulsed into the vampire’s mouth in time to the frantic beating of Motoki’s heart. He ignored the struggles that Motoki made and after a minute they grew increasingly feeble until finally they stopped all together. The rain continued to pelt against the window as one minute became two, then two became four, but still the vampire continued to drink. At last Kudoko pulled his head away and let Motoki slide down the wall to sit limply on the floor. A last trickle of blood ran down Kudoko’s chin and he used a single finger to capture it. His tongue flicked out to lap it up. “Excellent,” he looked at where Motoki sat slumped against the wall, pale and only half conscious now. “The taste of your fear comes through so strongly. I could grow to enjoy you.” The vampire crouched down, “You’ve just learned your first lesson, boy. I can give you intense pain.” He took Motoki’s face in one hand. “Lesson two is that I can also give you intense pleasure. Look at me,” Kudoko’s voice was soft, but commanding, and Motoki found he had to obey. Glowing red eyes captured and held the gaze of blue ones gone glassy from shock at blood loss. Those red eyes filled Motoki’s world, blotting out everything else and he was unable to look away. There was the sensation of something starting to slither around inside his head, probing, seeking an opening. Motoki longed to scream but was only able to whimper as the vampire implanted a part of himself deep inside Motoki’s mind. “Nnn…no, please,” Motoki managed to croak out. Kudoko smiled, letting a hand caress Motoki’s cheek almost affectionately. “Shhh, it’s all right now.” His arms slipped around the trembling body and pulled Motoki close. “In time you’ll come to crave what only I can do for you.” His head dipped to where blood still welled sluggishly from the puncture wounds. “There will be no pain this time, just a kiss and the pleasure it will bring you is indescribable.” Kudoko brought his lips back down and began to feed once more, suckling at the wound to speed the flow of blood into his mouth. The moan that now came from the blonde young man had little to do with pain. Pain was an enemy Motoki could have fought against, but the pleasure that rushed through him was as unexpected as it was engulfing. His eyes grew heavy, half closing in dreamy bliss as the intoxicating effects of the unnatural kiss overtook him. What little strength he had left was fading away, the world growing ever more remote, but he didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered but the sensual ecstasy that filled his body. Motoki could hear Kudoko’s voice in his mind, whispering to him, encouraging him to just relax and enjoy what he was feeling. He sagged against Kudoko with a sigh of contentment, drowning in the endless delight. Kudoko Akuma straightened up and smiled, letting Motoki flop to the floor. He placed a cold hand to the blonde man’s chest. Motoki’s heartbeat fluttered irregularly and the vampire knew the boy was nearing death. He brought his own wrist to his mouth and let one of the sharp fangs open a shallow cut. He pressed it to Motoki’s lips. “Drink,” he commanded. For a moment nothing happened and Kudoko feared that he’d take too much blood too quickly. This method of gaining control was always dangerous and problematical. The intended victim died as often as lived. “Drink, Motoki,” Kudoko repeated, forcing his will on the almost unconscious young man. This time Kudoko felt Motoki feebly suck a few drops of the vampire’s tainted blood into his mouth. As he did so a convulsion ran so strongly through the young blonde man that he came right off the floor for an instant. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell back to lay unmoving. A feather light touch of a finger to the pulse point at the hollow of Motoki’s neck made Kudoko smile and nod his head. It was weak and thready but the boy’s heart was still beating. Motoki would survive the night and live to serve his new master. There was just one more matter to attend to. Furuhata Motoki was found, unconscious but alive, the next morning when the secretary came to open the office. All around him was blood and broken glass from the shattered window. A small piece of that glass was imbedded in Motoki’s neck. The authorities surmised that the winds had blown a rock or similar object against it during the intense thunderstorms of the night before. The shard of glass had caught him in the neck and nicked the carotid artery. All in all, Motoki was lucky to be alive. But as the secretary oversaw the cleaning crew who came to take care of the mess, she observed that there wasn’t nearly as much blood as she had thought there would be. Where could it have all gone? *************************************** Next – Rei’s life is in flux because of her father’s presence and a friend’s departure. Mamoru’s concern about Usagi’s emotional state deepens. Motoki begins his unanticipated career as an in-between meal snack. All this and the discovery that muggers aren’t the only thing to worry about in Juban Park at night! Be here in three weeks for chapter two!