Sailor Moon Fic: let's leave men to their gods
By now, I'm pretty sure that no one is surprised. I'm not surprised. I spent six hours yesterday talking about this, so. There's that. Anyways. This is for the incredible and absolutely lovely tosca1390 and of course, the equally lovely hariboo_smirks. And the booze that I finally have. So. I need icons. I think there's that too.
let's leave men to their gods
they say that they have been walking up to this particular moment. they talk too much about memories when the truth still remains there and with her.
sailor moon | usagi/mamoru | season one-ish, au-ish spoilers | 7,888 words, PG.
It takes a week for all of them to sit down together. The Arcade just seems to make the most sense; Rei flanks her into a corner, Ami takes the other side, and Makoto is cordial enough to sit herself between Minako and Mamoru.
"I know this is hard," Minako says, and Rei snorts. None of them know how to take it, between the revelation that Minako is, in fact, the Princess, the change that has now linked them together for the rest of their lives, and then, of course, there is Mamoru. Usagi cannot look at him.
"We just don't know what to say," Ami murmurs. "It's been a strange couple of days, you know? I think you just need to give us a little more time."
This is a very Ami thing to say, Usagi thinks. Braver than her, braver than most of them; the anger is something that she struggles with, how it pits and unravels in her stomach, picking at her nerves, and then the weight of what this all is going to now mean for the rest of them.
She cannot think of herself now.
You cannot erase a scene like this from your head. There is Minako, standing kindly at the edge of a building, breathing heavily as they all watch her wide-eyed and even with a bit of reverence. If she remembers it correctly, there is Tuxedo Mask off at the side, his hand still pressed over hip, drawing back to peel away his mask and his own astonishment.
Usagi will never forget the way that he drops to his knees, or the way she can feel her body sort of strain to hear the murmurs that pass between the two of them. She remembers Rei and Rei's hand, the way it hits her hip and draws her back into the comfort and crowd of the other girls. She remembers the way that her throat burns and how she must, she needs to look away, but she cannot tear herself from watching Mamoru open up to someone that should not be a complete stranger to all of them. Somewhere next to them, there is Luna telling them simply: this is her, this is the Princess.
They do not kiss. Minako takes his hand.
Rei picks her up from school. They are the first to walk to Minako's apartment; Makoto has to stay behind for a teacher's meeting and Ami is tutoring for an extra hour so they cannot come along.
She is quiet when the other girl links their arms together, when she feels impossibly small against her best friend - that's what she is, she thinks, Rei is her best friend. She can feel the tears lodge themselves back into her throat. Everything feels unsettled and far too large to handle.
"Are you going to talk to me?" Rei asks quietly.
Usagi's mouth twists. "That obvious, huh?"
Her friend laughs. "I sort of suspected as it is. I knew you had your own suspicions as well, but - it's still a lot to take in, Usa-chan. You can't be this hard on yourself. Sometimes I think your own expectations are larger and crueler for yourself than everyone else's."
She says it as gently as possible too, and Usagi tries so hard to force a smile and some kind of reassurance. They are all walking into this blindly; she imagines that Minako and Mamoru have had the time to talk and process all of this a little more, meanwhile the four of them have sort of tried to keep moving along with it. But the thoughts that are in her head are terrifying enough, between question her own abilities to the long, sole memory of Luna's own words.
There has never been a Senshi of the Moon.
"I'm glad we found her," she murmurs. Her lips quirk. "Or well, Minako-san found us, right? I wonder how long she was looking for us."
"Not long enough," Rei mutters.
Usagi softens. "Let her be," she says.
Rei's grip on her arm seems to tighten. Her fingers dig along the crook of her elbow as they shift closer and take a turn. They both know the address; Minako lives in a nice area of the city, nice enough at least. She remembers vague comments from Motoki about how Mamoru lives close by as well.
The streets open into smaller paths and they cut across an alley, walking into a nook of apartments that are garden oriented. They are passed by a family of two, and then a couple who seems too preoccupied to care about the two schoolgirls that are completely out of place in this neighborhood.
Usagi hears the scream first.
The attacks haven't changed. They are flanked by two youmas; Usagi struggles because she sees half of the couple from before and one of the two kids, buried deep into the monsters body. The bile is already crawling up her throat and Rei's struggling to hold herself up against the wall.
"Moon," her friend breathes, and Usagi is digging her hand into her friends' arm, dragging her to the feet. She doesn't remember who called the other girls first. It doesn't matter.
"Stay low," she says to the other girl.
Over their heads, they hear Makoto's cry. Her attack lumbers through, between the two of them, and hits the smaller youma hard. She sees the child stumble backwards and hit the wall hard. It's a struggle to remember that they're still looking for the rest of the crystals.
But she can see the kid - the little girl - crying inside of the youma and her throat is digging, unraveling ready to explode. Another attack launches forward, the light brighter, vibrant, and then it's Ami's fog settling around them to give them cover. It's all panicked though; Usagi makes sure that Rei stays close to the wall and breathes.
"It's all you, Moon," she says weakly.
Usagi takes the hit. Minako stands too close to the side and there is not enough fog covering the angle. She cries out, just as Usagi shadows her and the energy picks at her back. It always, always feels like needles against her skin and she is vaguely aware of Tuxedo Mask leaning into the both of them to cover.
It's the first time she meets Minako's gaze, her eyes sharp and her teeth grinding together. She digs her fingers into the Princess' arms and somehow, Tuxedo Mask pulls them away from the center and up onto higher ground.
When they land, she stumbles and there's a soft cry next to her, Minako's hand gripping her wrist, her eyes so, so wide and far too blue. She's shaking. She's shaking hard and it hurts so much.
"I'm fine," she breathes. She pushes herself back, standing. Ami screams down below and all Usagi can think of the child trapped in the body of a monster. Her hair is coming undone too, peeling along her jaw, over her tiara and then the fabric of her uniform. She forces herself to take another deep breath.
"They can handle it," Minako says. She's still holding onto her wrist. "You're hurt," she says too. "You didn't - "
Usagi's eyes are wide and large. "You don't see what I see, Princess." The word tastes strange and bitter almost. "And the crystals - " her knees are shaky, and she tries to draw herself back, "I have to go."
It still ends with her.
What they don't understand is that it takes more than just her energy to end it; standing over the body of the little girl, her eyes draw over the twin braids that fall into her face. She stumbles to her knees, handing off the crystal to Makoto who, in turn, passes it to Minako as they all let off their transformations.
The ground is cool. The woman, the other youma, is slumped against the wall and moans as she starts to wake. Usagi's fingers are careful against the child's cheek and when her school uniform falls back into place, the little girl's eyes open.
"Mama," she whimpers.
Usagi forces herself to smile. "Are you all right?" and behind her, one of the girls sighs in relief. This is the part that they all agree to hate the most. The little girl scrambles back though. Ami steps forward, but Usagi shakes her head. "Can I take you home?" she asks.
The little girl's eyes dart back and forth, between her and the other girls and Mamoru who seemingly is both at ease and uncomfortable with his place next Minako. She still cannot look at him.
But this is about the little girl anyway. Usagi takes her hand first.
They cancel the meeting. Or rather, Usagi goes straight home after. The soreness in her back is almost too much, but just enough that Luna doesn't press when she finds her curled up in her parents' room, her mother's fingers sweeping through her hair, and her eyes closed tightly, just enough so that she can block everything out for just a little while longer.
She's early enough to the Arcade though where she gets the table alone. She hides behind a milkshake that Motoki brings to her without even asking; her fingers curl around the straw, but she really doesn't touch the drink.
"Hi."
Startled, she looks up. Minako is standing at the front of the table, picking at her skirt. She looks nervous.
"Hello," Usagi says, and nods, watching as the other girl slides into the booth across from her. She doesn't miss Mamoru either. Part of it is instinct now, watching as he settles in, and the part of it is something else, something stranger that comes and goes and just picks at her nonetheless.
She's beautiful, is her first thought, brighter - and in contrast to Mamoru, who seems to linger by the counter and a conversation with Motoki, she seems to fit too.
"How are you feeling?" Minako asks.
"Fine, fine," she says after a breath, pushing her hands against the table. Her stomach is in knots again.
"You took a hit," Minako says gently.
"You're the princess," she says immediately, and Minako's gaze is sharp, almost unreadable.
It's Motoki that interrupts them though and brings Minako a milkshake as well. He throws a look of concern to her and Usagi manages a weak smile, shuffling her feet against the floor underneath her.
"You can talk to me you know," Minako murmurs. She looks up in surprise and the other girl leans across the table, catching her hand in her own. Their fingers lace and it's almost instinctive, Usagi's heart in her throat and her eyes starting to burn. It feels like something she should know how to do.
"I don't know you."
The words slip. Minako laughs softly.
"I don't expect you to share secrets, you know. It's hard for all of you - I get that. I get that this happened and none of you really remember like I do. But I'm not the enemy, Usagi-chan. I just want us all to get along."
Usagi finds herself sitting straighter. Her shoulders square back, against the booth, and it's then and there that Mamoru decides to join them, sliding into the space next to Minako. She watches the other girl tense and Mamoru grip his coffee; neither of them seem to soften and she finds the whole thing rather odd.
"It's going to take some time," she murmurs. She looks down at her milkshake. "I know Luna and -" she struggles for a moment, "Artemis," she says, "expect us to all operate and everything fall into place. I can't speak for the other girls, but what I can say is this is a little harder than any of us, I don't know - than any of us know how to admit."
It's the most grown-up thing she's ever said and when she looks back up, Minako is watching her with that strange gaze again. Her eyes dart to Mamoru, but he looks down quickly and she catches the sudden, sharp curl of his mouth.
It doesn't settle well with her.
"Let me walk you home," Mamoru says, and their arms link, just as Rei turns back and throws her a worried gaze. She is standing with Minako and the other girls, who are all watching them.
It takes too much of her to pull her arm away.
"I'll see you later, Mamoru," Minako calls.
That is that, and Usagi's stomach is in knots, turning as she heads towards the direction of her house and Mamoru falls into step. She is quiet, gripping her bag and wrapping a loose arm around her waist. She cannot look at him again and her heart is pounding.
They stay quiet though. She leads him down a short cut. The excuses are playing hard in her head; her father has been home earlier these days.
"You're avoiding me."
Usagi frowns. "I'm not."
"We have a lot to talk about," he says. Her mouth twists. "I would think that you and I would hash it out before anything else."
She flinches.
"Are you angry with me?" he asks then.
She keeps her gaze straight. It's odd but she actually feels the lack of the other girls with her. It's the first time it's really happened with her, between him and her. It doesn't feel right.
But it's more than that, it's the sudden acceptance that he has, that she doesn't have, and everything else in between. She hasn't allowed herself to feel the revelation and is fumbling blindly though her own acceptance. She wishes she were just as strong as him in the other girls.
"No," she says after a moment, forcing herself to look up at him.
"Usagi."
"I'm not," she insists. "I understand. I mean, I guess I was expecting something else. I have no idea. I don't really know what to think anymore."
"You can talk to me," he tells her. "That hasn't changed."
He's smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's the same, odd tension that curls around the two of them Tuxedo Mask or not Tuxedo Mask, Mamoru or not Mamoru. He reaches for her arm, his fingers tugging lightly at her wrist before she accepts, almost gingerly tucking her fingers around his arm.
The next question is simple.
"Who am I talking to then?"
"The Prince," Minako says, and Mamoru looks away from the collective gazes of all the girls. Usagi is leaning against the wall, her arms folded in front of her. "He's the Prince, and it's important -"
She begins to tune them out, replaying the vast, charged experiences of the week. The revelation of the Princess and now, now the Prince has done nothing to change the attacks or the levels of weight the Dark Kingdom continues to throw at them. Luna seems to accept this all so blindly and Usagi is just reminded of the memory of Mamoru falling to his knees, just in front of Minako as she told them all who and what exactly she was.
There is no Senshi of the Moon, she tells herself. So where and how she fits into this is becoming a huge source of strain for her. Neither Luna nor Minako seem to offer any sense of help either. She doesn't feel any different, but she doesn't feel like she's going anywhere or fitting into any place.
It scares her.
"Usagi."
Her gaze snaps up. Both Minako and Mamoru are both watching her. Rei is at her feet; they are meeting at the temple again, falling back into old habits. Luna is watching her too, head tilted to the side.
"Mamoru and you will be working together this week," Minako says. She offers a tight, tentative smile at him. "I think, as it seems to all end with you, our best bet is offer you a little more - like a safety precaution - than just your tiara to finish these youmas off, don't you think?"
"Hai," she says. She blinks. "I mean, sure. Whatever you think is best."
The truth is that she knows that she was half in love with Mamoru anyway. She can't exactly pinpoint when it happened; maybe it was within the context of the situation, coupled by her suspicions that he was in fact Tuxedo Mask, or maybe it just happened because things just do. She can remember bits and pieces of how kind he almost was, or how they were both caught off-guard at a particular moment. She cannot remember one particular time though.
In the middle of the meeting, she is forced to watch as the memories for the other girls start to come back. It hits Ami first, as she talks in mid-stride about how they need to fine-tune their strategies. It catches her and somewhere inside of herself, Usagi just knows that it's happening - her eyes start to brighten, there's the slow lazy curl of her mouth and she seems to just understand.
Makoto and Rei happen hand-in-hand; the two girls are having a mini-argument, Minako watching them with warm amusement and Usagi isn't quite sure who says what first, but then they are laughing together as if these past couple of months were really just years instead. There is a lump in her throat and the laughter seems well-placed and genuine. It's not complete, but it's there and there's nothing mistaking it - it is the same confidence that brought Minako into their lives.
Mamoru is watching her.
She is not broken-hearted. She just feels empty and unsure.
"Basics. Just remember the basics."
It doesn't hit her that she's standing in Mamoru's apartment until after Minako leaves, until she takes in the walls lined with books and dark and settled all the colors are. Minako flashes them a cheeky smile, eyes hard as she leaves and heads to meet the other girls elsewhere.
Usagi has wrapped her hair into two loops, then a single bun and squaring it so that it's out of her face. She's wearing a gym shirt and pair of Minako's leggings, feet bare as she watches Mamoru push off the rest of the furniture against the walls to give them both some space.
"We all can't be you," she says dryly.
He smirks.
There are two swords leaning against the wall. She doesn't ask how or why. She assumes that this has to do with the fact that he is the Prince and as the Prince, these odd things are just supposed to make sense.
"You're getting better," he says. "But you're not there yet."
Her eyes narrow. "Here we go."
"I mean it." He moves to stand in front of her, sleeves rolled to his elbow. He hasn't changed. His jeans fit low at his waist and the collar at his throat is sort of skewed. She likes him like this, she thinks. But that's as far as she'll let herself go. "When you're relying on your instinct, you are just as fast, if not just as strong as the others. When you trust yourself, you're the best."
"Stop," she says.
"You need to trust yourself, Usagi. I know you think that none of us get it. I know you think that it's -"
"Stop," she breathes. "Please stop."
Her hands go to her face, her fingers curling briefly against her cheeks. He doesn't move for where he stands in front of her, his eyes dark and heavy. It's for the best, she can hear the girls say. You need to catch up. You need to be the leader.
But it's that ugly feeling of being lost again, the way that it picks at her, at her confidence when she feels like she has no place in between any of the girls anymore. Is she just a stand in? Is that how it all works?
"Trust yourself," he says.
Then he launches at her, his fist drawn back. Her eyes burst into something hot and heavy and she twists, sliding around him but stumbling in her footing. It doesn't give her time to process anything because Mamoru's hand is around her arm, tight with his nails digging into her skin.
She twists against him, ends up turning, flushed against his back. His mouth is at her ear and she catches the hitch in his breath.
"I'm not you," she gasps, and throws her elbow back. It hits him in the stomach and he laughs breathlessly, jerking back but pulling her with him. The advantage is simple: He's taller, longer, and she's got to balance his direct weight with her own. She exhales.
Then it happens.
Her fist lands a punch against his stomach. He twists without reacting, trying to grasp her arm. But she's quick, she's faster suddenly, wrapping her fingers in his arm and pinning it against his back.
She is small enough to land a kick against his leg. It surprises him. It surprises him too and then he's on his knees, back turned to her as she tries and holds him still. He doesn't exactly struggle, but she knows him well-enough to predict that he's going to try something and force her into falling hard.
His head drops back. Then he smiles.
They are both sweating. Her hair is sticking to her face when he links their legs together and flips her onto her back. She hits the carpet hard, grunting.
"You make me so sad," she whimpers.
The words stumble out of her and his hand slips. She takes advantage, rolling her hips forward and then turning them so that he's on his back and she's straddling his hips. Her hair falls everywhere, out of the bun, along her face and jaw, over him as she loops herself over him.
Her eyes are bright. His eyes are too dark. She can read them. She doesn't want too. Her hands curl around his and she pins them over his head. She doesn't feel like a little girl anymore. She hasn't for quite some time.
"All of you," she says. "You all make me so sad. And I - I don't want to feel like this. I want to be happy that things are falling into place. But I feel like my heart is being ripped out from under me. I feel like everything is changing and I cannot catch up. I'm not supposed to catch up."
"Usagi," he breathes. His eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, Usagi-chan."
She shakes her head. "No. Don't look at me like that."
It feels like she's left herself, all reason and understanding of whatever is going on. Something inside of her snaps; maybe it's the way he's pressed underneath her, maybe it's how she slowly, oh so slowly, leans into him and lets her mouth brush over his own. This is not supposed to happen.
But then it's his mouth too, the way it opens back against hers, his tongue as it slides lazily into her mouth and his hand when it curls tightly into her hair. She kisses him to swallow him, to overwhelm him just as he's been overwhelming her, moment to moment without any regrets. She bites at his lip. He growls and then moans and when she rolls hips against his, he is half-turning her so that he can press her back into the floor.
Usagi snaps and stops him. The Princess, she thinks. She panics. Her hands push against his chest hard and she scrambles to her feet, to her bag and her shoes and coat at the door.
It takes everything, everything she has to ignore her name, how it rolls out of his mouth and he's standing up to catch her too. She opens the door before he can get to her.
"So you're hers. I accept that," she says. Her fingers are digging into the knob. "But remember," she tells him. "I loved you first."
The next battle ends with all her energy exploding. Then, after, her head is pillowed in Rei's lap, her fingers combing through her hair as the girls and Mamoru swarm her with their worries. The blood sticks to her mouth and she can't remember when it went to hell, but she is just so tired.
"We need to focuses on killing the youmas," Minako says. Her voice rises above all of theirs. "They're getting desperate. We still have one more crystal before we can do anything."
"Agreed," Mamoru says.
"But what about the people," Makoto chimes in. Rei makes a sound of agreement and Usagi can feel Ami's hand start to tend to the wound in her side .She can't remember if it was teeth or claws, but the youma today had nearly ripped her in half. "They're not just monsters," the girl says too. "They're people. We're supposed to protect these people."
"It's going to have to change," Minako says. "We can't afford -"
"No," Usagi breathes. "No."
"Usa-chan," Luna starts, but it's that tone and it's all too patronizing. She tries to sit up, crying out when Ami's hand digs too hard into her side and it's Rei, just Rei forcing herself to steady against her. Her gaze is unfocused.
But she's told them time and time again, she thinks. She's told them what she sees. She told them that these people are people and that they cannot compromise the safety of others just because of these crystals and such. Her head is swimming and she tries to stand too.
"I will not kill these people," she says quietly. "Crystal or no - I can them. I can see them trapped inside, ripped apart each time one of us fights back. I will not punish these people for the sake of this mission."
Minako leans back on her knees. Something changes in her gaze. The others, they watch her warily. Like they've never seen her before. She doesn't know if their memories are full and complete or just pieced together so now they know that she has, in fact, never been a part of their lives. That breaks her heart the most.
"There has to be another way," she says.
No one has answers for her. It's awhile before Rei takes her hand.
The sword is heavy. Mamoru has opened some of the windows by them; the light hits the blade, breaking its reflection as she turns the hilt from palm to palm.
Something in her is changing. She knows because the girls, the Princess - they're all looking at her differently. It's the way they carry themselves around her too. They're taller. They're careful. They seem older and wiser and completely part of something that she just can't quite touch. There is Mamrou too who is almost unrecognizable; if girls weren't already flustered around him, she thinks with dark amusement.
But she stares at the sword, familiar and unfamiliar. Her fingers touch the blade. She knows he's watching her. She knows that Minako's watching her too - she's off in a few minutes. They are making her keep to these weekly things.
They haven't talked about the kiss. She is content to let this go. She's content to pretend to let him go. It's what's best for everything, she thinks.
"Bye, Usagi-chan!" Minako's voice startles her from the doorway. She looks up and Mamoru is walking back to her, his hand reaching for his own sword.
They start first.
She doesn't feel bad about the elbow she throws to his face. He blocks her too, the blade of his sword scraping away at her own, just as she twists and his hand grips her waist. They are breathing heavily.
"You're angry," he says, voice low. His breath is warm against her ear. Her eyes stay open and wide. "I get it," he says.
"No," she growls. "You don't."
The memory happens;
and there is a garden, a beautiful garden, miles of flowers that seem to bend to her as she laughs even with the split in her dress.
He is watching her hungrily, lazily and she is holding the blade low, pressed at her side as she motions to him with a hand, her fingers wiggling in greeting. They are alone and this always gets them into trouble.
"I am not just a pretty face, your grace," she drawls. Her gaze sharpens and he steps forward, rolling the sleeves of his shirt. "You and yours are seemingly under the impression that I am."
She takes him in as a handsome man, far from conventional. His eyes are too bright and his mouth is even cruel. But she likes that about him. She likes that he is all of these pieces and none of them are supposed to fit together.
She still reaches up, peeling her hair loose from her style, letting the strands of silver fall and frame her face. His mouth parts and she licks her lips, bringing the sword up again.
"I always enjoy your surprises, Serenity," he says.
Her laughter fills the garden.
Mamoru takes her distraction, kicking the blade from her hand. It drops and skids across the floor, joining his own which has been lost since they started. She falls back into the carpet, him over her.
"Talk to me," he orders.
Her mouth twists and the words just kind of slip. "Of course, your grace," she breathes, and her leg tries to twist around his.
She flips him to his back. His hands catch her wrists.
There is this memory too;
his fingers pull the fabric away from her thighs, as it slips and pools around his hips. She feels his hand come around and off her hip, cupping the small of her back and then sliding underneath her dress.
"You're trouble," she breathes. "So much trouble," she says and leans in, letting her mouth graze his. She feels him smile with his teeth and rolls her hips forward, stealing a growl. "Venus says that the ladies of the court are beside themselves, hoping that they'll get to bed you and your guard before your visit with us finishes up."
He laughs against her mouth. "Jealous, love?"
"Not at all," she says. "I hear you've met the Princess."
She feels his smile and then it's his fingers in her hair, twisting lightly as he turns her into the grass. Her dress fans underneath her and he's pressing his weight into her, hard and almost thoughtful, his finger dragging along her throat.
She makes a sound because she likes it. She fallen deeply for his hands, she thinks, and the way he seems to touch her with a particular kind of reverence.
"I hear she likes me," he says.
Her eyes are burning. Mamoru presses her hands back, then turns them so that he's on top of her. They are a mess of limbs; her legs tangle with his and his mouth seems to hover over hers without any qualms and any acknowledgment of their Princess at all.
"Let it out," he says softly.
"Stop it," she tells him.
"No." He shakes his head and his hand comes to her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheeks. "No," he says again. "Not until you let it out. Not until you tell someone what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."
Her eyes are burning. There is nothing in her that doesn't want to scream out, nothing that wants to say how angry she is at all of them, at him for being so accepting of this and so blindly. It starts to crack and her insides feel like they're going to unravel, just in front of him with little to hold her back.
"Why are you doing this?" she asks. Her voice blurs. His lips graze hers. "Why is it so important to you to know how I feel?"
"We're all worried about you," he says quietly.
"I didn't ask you to be," she breathes.
Something in the way that he looks at her changes. Something snaps and she catches it; it's the way that his mouth seems to settle, in a half-frown and that soft, empty sigh that leaves his mouth without any sense of reprieve or understanding. She feels too open and vulnerable and wishes for some kind of weight to hide behind - the girls, the fight, and nothing of the memories that she cannot begin to like or understand.
"We're worried about you."
His hand slides against her hip. She almost wishes for her sword.
"Don't be."
He laughs softly. "Usagi," he says. "You have no idea the kind of impression you can make. That you do make. Princess or not, she wants you to be happy."
"I didn't ask for this," she breathes. She pushes at him but his grip tightens and she cannot pick apart any kind of energy to move at all. "Luna said it best. There was no Senshi of the Moon, Mamoru-san. All of you have these memories and are seemingly okay with them - but I don't know where I fit and it is tearing me apart. I cannot let anyone of you see that. Because if you all are following as you are - where does that leave me?"
He says nothing, of course. She doesn't expect anything. His fingers touch her mouth. His grip eases. She cannot look away from him though.
This is how he kisses her.
She is older and wiser without thinking.
His hand peels back the cut of her blouse, just as she starts to tug his shirt over his head. This is instinct. This feels like instinct, caught somewhere between memories both empty and full.
He kisses her and it's desperate, just as desperate as she feels, her fingers sliding along his spine and back, spreading over his skin as his hand starts to rise over her thigh. His tongue brushes over hers and she makes this soft, aching sound, unsure of the familiarity that suddenly opens in her. She knows to kiss him and twist herself into him; she knows that catching his lip between her teeth is what makes him growl and pull her that much closer.
"This isn't right," she breathes against his mouth, and his hand seems to tighten in his hair, drawing her up to press against him. He doesn't answer and she's glad, for once, she is just glad.
Her communicator rings.
Kunzite is far from beyond an intimidating man. He stands alone when they all arrive, surveying the scene as Usagi and the other girls stand in front of Minako. There is Mamoru at her side; Usagi can barely breathe as it is.
"I am not one for silly games," he says.
"We're not ones for stupid speeches," Makoto bites back. "At least we can understand each other."
There is something different. It goes beyond how they hold themselves now. Minako and Mamoru are biting at each other in the back; their argument unravels in harsh, heavy whispers and she cannot help but touch her mouth.
"Where's your army?" Rei snarls.
Kunzite's mouth twists. "I am here alone."
Ami is murmuring confirmations now and Usagi feels her hands twist into fists at her side. This isn't right, she thinks again. Her gloves settle against her mouth. The decision is there, waiting for her.
"Everyone," she says quietly. "You should take Minako-san away from here."
"No," Rei says.
"Absolutely not," Minako breathes.
Her gaze softens and she turns, twisting as she looks at the Princess. There is Mamoru at her side, taller and proud. But this isn't about him right now, she tells herself. It can't be. It can't be about any of them.
"Take the Princess and go," she says again. "I'll be fine. This is what I'm supposed do, right? Whether I remember or not, I'm your leader."
They all look at her, wide-eyed and helpless, but she ignores them as she walks forward. Her hands brush against her hip. She almost says something about the sparring, some quirk, some nervous quirk, and yet, she just can't bring herself to say anything else.
Kunzite looks directly at her. "I am giving you an opportunity to come to your senses, to protect yourself and your friends with a wise choice."
Usagi sees a man.
The pain that hits is like nothing else she's ever felt. The girls are trapped somewhere behind her; Kunzite is cruel in that he understands exactly how she feels and thinks.
Her fingers dig into her arm and she's fallen, on her knees, as Kunzite hovers over her. He isn't laughing. The girls are screaming. Someone is trying to pick at the walls between all of them.
"You're like a little bird," Kunzite tells her. "You and your pretty wings."
"I don't understand why you're doing this."
"Does it matter?" he asks, and she trembles. There is blood coming out from her mouth, from a side wound. The ground is shaking hard, ready to split, but she cannot find her footing. "All you need to understand is that you're going to lose, that you were always meant to lose."
Something inside of her snaps.
It's when he goes for her heart, when he knows that the other girls have the crystals, that she has stepped into sacrificing herself for the rest of them. As she should, she thinks. This is what she is meant to do.
He hits his her so hard, she flies back, her body bent at the strangest angle, head thrusted back as her ears and eyes are filled with everyone else's screams. It's when the memories start again, when faces become more faces, when names start to toss around in her head and Kunzite's hand wraps around her throat, tight, tighter, and then ready to kill her.
The light burst between them.
The memory says;
"Hello, little bird," the General's fingers brush her nose and she is young, younger than when this was supposed to start. She looks up at him in awe and someone behind her announces the prince's name. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Venus laughs softly, next to her, him. "She's curious," she says gently, and her fingers are in Serenity's hair. There are lips pressed against her forehead too and she feels herself sigh. "Leave her be, General."
The man laughs.
Her heart starts to unravel inside of her, piece by piece as she thinks things like mother and friends and love. It's how she stands slowly, feet to pavement, knees cracking, her hands outstretched as she stares down Kunzite, as he looks back at her in surprise.
"I remember," she says softly.
The air seems to crack. The wall of energy between the two of them and the rest of the girls, Mamoru, falls, but Usagi isn't paying any attention. Her gaze remains steady and on Kunzite.
"I remember," she says again, and the blood in her mouth is sticky, wet across her teeth. She feels like she's here and there, as if she were still stuck, but just at the peak of somewhere she should be.
It is this overwhelming feeling of sadness, of being split into then and now and thrusted into a place where things make too much sense. Her fuku is disappearing and she looks down, her fingers curling at the skirt of her dress. She rubs her knuckles into the fabric.
Mars died first, she thinks. Then it was Mercury. Makoto was dead before they reached the queen. Venus died just as the sword split through her own skin, her eyes wide. These are pictures that she all remembers.
The crystals burst forward then. They rise from behind her, from inside her pockets, and out from underneath Kunzite too. They start to spin around her, each glowing. They spin faster and faster and the gloves disappear from Usagi's hands. Serenity, she thinks. I am Serenity. Her palms turn out.
It's strange, so strange how the power settles inside of her. It feels like it's always been there, waiting for her to accept it. But it's more than that now. It churns inside of her, the memories of her mother, the way she used to say to her: it will always end with you and how this is the only thing that ever really made sense.
The others reach her then. It's Minako's hands in her hair, her fingers pulling, clutching, her eyes wide and burning with panic. The others are the same, just as they circle her, chiming in with her name and with a kind of reverence that is both familiar and utterly terrifying.
There is no reunion. They step in front of her, flanking her. Her fingers curl around the crystal, plucking it from midair. It rolls onto her palm and then it's Mamoru behind her, Endymoin, his armor now pressing against the open back of her and her dress.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
Her mouth twitches. "We'll talk later," she says.
She turns into him, but not completely. His mouth finds hers, his teeth nipping at her lips. She tries not to smile. It's a odd combination of joy; she is stuck in between bursting with happiness and unease. There are too many questions, too many moments that seem unable to come together and make some kind of sense.
But this is Endymoin. Her hand cups his face. He presses his forehead against hers.
They breathe.
This is the first memory;
and her mother is pressing a palm into the small of her back, her mouth curling as she breathes a thoughtful Serenity. But she looks at the Prince with a mix of amusement and bewilderment.
"I've heard so much about you," he says, taking her hand. Venus coughs next to her. Jupiter hides a laugh. "You are even more beautiful than they say."
"They?" she asks. There is no mistaking the humor in her voice. The generals at his side are a mix of smiles and soft laughter, gloves hiding their mouths. She's sure that Luna is off somewhere, completely ready to kill her for her cheekiness. "I must admit," she adds, watching him kiss her hand. He smiles against her skin. "I have heard of your legendary charm and was hoping for a little more - Mars?"
"Charm?" her guard adds dryly.
Serenity laughs. "Or something," she adds.
Her thoughts are a mix of delight and curiosity. Her mother has long since left them, politely and to her meetings, and the Prince has yet to let go of her hand. She likes the feel, she thinks. She likes how it's strong.
It's the Prince that grins again though. "Our trip is still young," he says.
Ami's fog does not settle fast enough. Kunzite's attack comes barreling through, hitting Makoto first and throwing her to the side.
Minako steps up and does not shy away from a direct attack, hurling her energy at dark general. She hits him and hits him hard, sending him flying back into the wall. Mamoru whirls her around, but Usagi is pushing at his chest.
"I have to fight," she says.
His eyes are dark. "No." His mouth sets. "I know what you're thinking."
"I'm not stupid," she hisses. Her eyes flash and there is a low light between them, the crystal dangles and then sets itself against her throat, over the same chain that keeps her locket.
They stare at each other. His eyes are hard. Then he has a fist in her hair, pulling her to him. She slams her mouth against his first though. She kisses with her teeth, biting at his lip and it's that sudden, desperate need to reassure herself that he's here and she's here and that maybe, just maybe, in the middle of all of this, it's going to be a very real second chance.
She pours herself into the kiss too. Her tongue sweeps along his mouth. His hand drops and grasps her hard at the hip. He moans and she gasps and between them, something seems to settle back into place.
This is how it all goes to hell.
You never forget. Instead of the sword sliding right through her belly, it's Kunzite's second attack and their hands being pulled apart.
She can hear herself scream his name - Mamoru, Endymoin - and then Makoto's arms around her waist as she and the other girls pull her back. Minako steps in front of her and they all watch in horror as Mamoru's body snaps and bends back in midair. There's a sharp light, and then long, dark arms wrapping around him, his body, and his throat.
No, no, she thinks. No. She tries to fight Makoto and her arms, the sob that wretches out of her throat, burning as Rei tries to pin her between the two of them, murmuring words that she cannot hear. But she cannot take her eyes off of Mamoru and then, god, then he falls, his body limp at Kunzite's feet.
"No," she croaks.
"We cannot," Minako breathes. "We cannot."
Kunzite is smiling as he disappears, Mamoru's body draped over his arms. "Princess," he says.
The temple is beautiful during the fall. At night, the steps are alight with candles and visitors, Rei's grandfather running about and taking wishes and names. The murmurs are low and warm and everything, everything feels so completely still.
Rei keeps her in the bedroom. Ami is stuck at school, Makoto helping Rei put up a few more things to greet the visitors. The leaves are already changing and if it were a different, a different time, Usagi would drag both girls to sit on top of the steps, shoulder to should to watch them.
Instead, she is curled up on Rei's bed. Her hand is wrapped around her locket and the crystal, her fingers digging into the chain. Her eyes are open and wide and when the door opens too, off on the side, she curls her knees closer to her chest.
The bed sinks with weight. There are fingers in her hair, brushing against her forehead and then her cheek. Usagi's eyes water.
"I had to, you understand." Minako's voice fills the room. Something in the sound catches and shudders. "It was to protect you, to give you time to come into your own. All of you."
"I know," Usagi says.
"Do you?" she asks. Minako is trembling now, her mouth tight and taunt. Usagi doesn't look at her yet. "I cannot stand for you to be angry with me, Usa-chan. The others, I can. But you - please," she says too. "Please."
There is no we'll get him back. There doesn't need to be. Usagi forces herself to sit up slowly, shifting her legs and then reaching for the other girl, her hands brushing against her face. She lets her fingers brush against Minako's hair, along her face and then her jaw and then she drags the other girl into her arms, her eyes closing tightly.
Minako breathes into her shoulder. Then it's her fingers in her blouse. The door opens again off to the side and it's the other girls walking into the room. They all watch her and wait.
"I know," she says again. She does not say: this is okay.
let's leave men to their gods
they say that they have been walking up to this particular moment. they talk too much about memories when the truth still remains there and with her.
sailor moon | usagi/mamoru | season one-ish, au-ish spoilers | 7,888 words, PG.
It takes a week for all of them to sit down together. The Arcade just seems to make the most sense; Rei flanks her into a corner, Ami takes the other side, and Makoto is cordial enough to sit herself between Minako and Mamoru.
"I know this is hard," Minako says, and Rei snorts. None of them know how to take it, between the revelation that Minako is, in fact, the Princess, the change that has now linked them together for the rest of their lives, and then, of course, there is Mamoru. Usagi cannot look at him.
"We just don't know what to say," Ami murmurs. "It's been a strange couple of days, you know? I think you just need to give us a little more time."
This is a very Ami thing to say, Usagi thinks. Braver than her, braver than most of them; the anger is something that she struggles with, how it pits and unravels in her stomach, picking at her nerves, and then the weight of what this all is going to now mean for the rest of them.
She cannot think of herself now.
You cannot erase a scene like this from your head. There is Minako, standing kindly at the edge of a building, breathing heavily as they all watch her wide-eyed and even with a bit of reverence. If she remembers it correctly, there is Tuxedo Mask off at the side, his hand still pressed over hip, drawing back to peel away his mask and his own astonishment.
Usagi will never forget the way that he drops to his knees, or the way she can feel her body sort of strain to hear the murmurs that pass between the two of them. She remembers Rei and Rei's hand, the way it hits her hip and draws her back into the comfort and crowd of the other girls. She remembers the way that her throat burns and how she must, she needs to look away, but she cannot tear herself from watching Mamoru open up to someone that should not be a complete stranger to all of them. Somewhere next to them, there is Luna telling them simply: this is her, this is the Princess.
They do not kiss. Minako takes his hand.
Rei picks her up from school. They are the first to walk to Minako's apartment; Makoto has to stay behind for a teacher's meeting and Ami is tutoring for an extra hour so they cannot come along.
She is quiet when the other girl links their arms together, when she feels impossibly small against her best friend - that's what she is, she thinks, Rei is her best friend. She can feel the tears lodge themselves back into her throat. Everything feels unsettled and far too large to handle.
"Are you going to talk to me?" Rei asks quietly.
Usagi's mouth twists. "That obvious, huh?"
Her friend laughs. "I sort of suspected as it is. I knew you had your own suspicions as well, but - it's still a lot to take in, Usa-chan. You can't be this hard on yourself. Sometimes I think your own expectations are larger and crueler for yourself than everyone else's."
She says it as gently as possible too, and Usagi tries so hard to force a smile and some kind of reassurance. They are all walking into this blindly; she imagines that Minako and Mamoru have had the time to talk and process all of this a little more, meanwhile the four of them have sort of tried to keep moving along with it. But the thoughts that are in her head are terrifying enough, between question her own abilities to the long, sole memory of Luna's own words.
There has never been a Senshi of the Moon.
"I'm glad we found her," she murmurs. Her lips quirk. "Or well, Minako-san found us, right? I wonder how long she was looking for us."
"Not long enough," Rei mutters.
Usagi softens. "Let her be," she says.
Rei's grip on her arm seems to tighten. Her fingers dig along the crook of her elbow as they shift closer and take a turn. They both know the address; Minako lives in a nice area of the city, nice enough at least. She remembers vague comments from Motoki about how Mamoru lives close by as well.
The streets open into smaller paths and they cut across an alley, walking into a nook of apartments that are garden oriented. They are passed by a family of two, and then a couple who seems too preoccupied to care about the two schoolgirls that are completely out of place in this neighborhood.
Usagi hears the scream first.
The attacks haven't changed. They are flanked by two youmas; Usagi struggles because she sees half of the couple from before and one of the two kids, buried deep into the monsters body. The bile is already crawling up her throat and Rei's struggling to hold herself up against the wall.
"Moon," her friend breathes, and Usagi is digging her hand into her friends' arm, dragging her to the feet. She doesn't remember who called the other girls first. It doesn't matter.
"Stay low," she says to the other girl.
Over their heads, they hear Makoto's cry. Her attack lumbers through, between the two of them, and hits the smaller youma hard. She sees the child stumble backwards and hit the wall hard. It's a struggle to remember that they're still looking for the rest of the crystals.
But she can see the kid - the little girl - crying inside of the youma and her throat is digging, unraveling ready to explode. Another attack launches forward, the light brighter, vibrant, and then it's Ami's fog settling around them to give them cover. It's all panicked though; Usagi makes sure that Rei stays close to the wall and breathes.
"It's all you, Moon," she says weakly.
Usagi takes the hit. Minako stands too close to the side and there is not enough fog covering the angle. She cries out, just as Usagi shadows her and the energy picks at her back. It always, always feels like needles against her skin and she is vaguely aware of Tuxedo Mask leaning into the both of them to cover.
It's the first time she meets Minako's gaze, her eyes sharp and her teeth grinding together. She digs her fingers into the Princess' arms and somehow, Tuxedo Mask pulls them away from the center and up onto higher ground.
When they land, she stumbles and there's a soft cry next to her, Minako's hand gripping her wrist, her eyes so, so wide and far too blue. She's shaking. She's shaking hard and it hurts so much.
"I'm fine," she breathes. She pushes herself back, standing. Ami screams down below and all Usagi can think of the child trapped in the body of a monster. Her hair is coming undone too, peeling along her jaw, over her tiara and then the fabric of her uniform. She forces herself to take another deep breath.
"They can handle it," Minako says. She's still holding onto her wrist. "You're hurt," she says too. "You didn't - "
Usagi's eyes are wide and large. "You don't see what I see, Princess." The word tastes strange and bitter almost. "And the crystals - " her knees are shaky, and she tries to draw herself back, "I have to go."
It still ends with her.
What they don't understand is that it takes more than just her energy to end it; standing over the body of the little girl, her eyes draw over the twin braids that fall into her face. She stumbles to her knees, handing off the crystal to Makoto who, in turn, passes it to Minako as they all let off their transformations.
The ground is cool. The woman, the other youma, is slumped against the wall and moans as she starts to wake. Usagi's fingers are careful against the child's cheek and when her school uniform falls back into place, the little girl's eyes open.
"Mama," she whimpers.
Usagi forces herself to smile. "Are you all right?" and behind her, one of the girls sighs in relief. This is the part that they all agree to hate the most. The little girl scrambles back though. Ami steps forward, but Usagi shakes her head. "Can I take you home?" she asks.
The little girl's eyes dart back and forth, between her and the other girls and Mamoru who seemingly is both at ease and uncomfortable with his place next Minako. She still cannot look at him.
But this is about the little girl anyway. Usagi takes her hand first.
They cancel the meeting. Or rather, Usagi goes straight home after. The soreness in her back is almost too much, but just enough that Luna doesn't press when she finds her curled up in her parents' room, her mother's fingers sweeping through her hair, and her eyes closed tightly, just enough so that she can block everything out for just a little while longer.
She's early enough to the Arcade though where she gets the table alone. She hides behind a milkshake that Motoki brings to her without even asking; her fingers curl around the straw, but she really doesn't touch the drink.
"Hi."
Startled, she looks up. Minako is standing at the front of the table, picking at her skirt. She looks nervous.
"Hello," Usagi says, and nods, watching as the other girl slides into the booth across from her. She doesn't miss Mamoru either. Part of it is instinct now, watching as he settles in, and the part of it is something else, something stranger that comes and goes and just picks at her nonetheless.
She's beautiful, is her first thought, brighter - and in contrast to Mamoru, who seems to linger by the counter and a conversation with Motoki, she seems to fit too.
"How are you feeling?" Minako asks.
"Fine, fine," she says after a breath, pushing her hands against the table. Her stomach is in knots again.
"You took a hit," Minako says gently.
"You're the princess," she says immediately, and Minako's gaze is sharp, almost unreadable.
It's Motoki that interrupts them though and brings Minako a milkshake as well. He throws a look of concern to her and Usagi manages a weak smile, shuffling her feet against the floor underneath her.
"You can talk to me you know," Minako murmurs. She looks up in surprise and the other girl leans across the table, catching her hand in her own. Their fingers lace and it's almost instinctive, Usagi's heart in her throat and her eyes starting to burn. It feels like something she should know how to do.
"I don't know you."
The words slip. Minako laughs softly.
"I don't expect you to share secrets, you know. It's hard for all of you - I get that. I get that this happened and none of you really remember like I do. But I'm not the enemy, Usagi-chan. I just want us all to get along."
Usagi finds herself sitting straighter. Her shoulders square back, against the booth, and it's then and there that Mamoru decides to join them, sliding into the space next to Minako. She watches the other girl tense and Mamoru grip his coffee; neither of them seem to soften and she finds the whole thing rather odd.
"It's going to take some time," she murmurs. She looks down at her milkshake. "I know Luna and -" she struggles for a moment, "Artemis," she says, "expect us to all operate and everything fall into place. I can't speak for the other girls, but what I can say is this is a little harder than any of us, I don't know - than any of us know how to admit."
It's the most grown-up thing she's ever said and when she looks back up, Minako is watching her with that strange gaze again. Her eyes dart to Mamoru, but he looks down quickly and she catches the sudden, sharp curl of his mouth.
It doesn't settle well with her.
"Let me walk you home," Mamoru says, and their arms link, just as Rei turns back and throws her a worried gaze. She is standing with Minako and the other girls, who are all watching them.
It takes too much of her to pull her arm away.
"I'll see you later, Mamoru," Minako calls.
That is that, and Usagi's stomach is in knots, turning as she heads towards the direction of her house and Mamoru falls into step. She is quiet, gripping her bag and wrapping a loose arm around her waist. She cannot look at him again and her heart is pounding.
They stay quiet though. She leads him down a short cut. The excuses are playing hard in her head; her father has been home earlier these days.
"You're avoiding me."
Usagi frowns. "I'm not."
"We have a lot to talk about," he says. Her mouth twists. "I would think that you and I would hash it out before anything else."
She flinches.
"Are you angry with me?" he asks then.
She keeps her gaze straight. It's odd but she actually feels the lack of the other girls with her. It's the first time it's really happened with her, between him and her. It doesn't feel right.
But it's more than that, it's the sudden acceptance that he has, that she doesn't have, and everything else in between. She hasn't allowed herself to feel the revelation and is fumbling blindly though her own acceptance. She wishes she were just as strong as him in the other girls.
"No," she says after a moment, forcing herself to look up at him.
"Usagi."
"I'm not," she insists. "I understand. I mean, I guess I was expecting something else. I have no idea. I don't really know what to think anymore."
"You can talk to me," he tells her. "That hasn't changed."
He's smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's the same, odd tension that curls around the two of them Tuxedo Mask or not Tuxedo Mask, Mamoru or not Mamoru. He reaches for her arm, his fingers tugging lightly at her wrist before she accepts, almost gingerly tucking her fingers around his arm.
The next question is simple.
"Who am I talking to then?"
"The Prince," Minako says, and Mamoru looks away from the collective gazes of all the girls. Usagi is leaning against the wall, her arms folded in front of her. "He's the Prince, and it's important -"
She begins to tune them out, replaying the vast, charged experiences of the week. The revelation of the Princess and now, now the Prince has done nothing to change the attacks or the levels of weight the Dark Kingdom continues to throw at them. Luna seems to accept this all so blindly and Usagi is just reminded of the memory of Mamoru falling to his knees, just in front of Minako as she told them all who and what exactly she was.
There is no Senshi of the Moon, she tells herself. So where and how she fits into this is becoming a huge source of strain for her. Neither Luna nor Minako seem to offer any sense of help either. She doesn't feel any different, but she doesn't feel like she's going anywhere or fitting into any place.
It scares her.
"Usagi."
Her gaze snaps up. Both Minako and Mamoru are both watching her. Rei is at her feet; they are meeting at the temple again, falling back into old habits. Luna is watching her too, head tilted to the side.
"Mamoru and you will be working together this week," Minako says. She offers a tight, tentative smile at him. "I think, as it seems to all end with you, our best bet is offer you a little more - like a safety precaution - than just your tiara to finish these youmas off, don't you think?"
"Hai," she says. She blinks. "I mean, sure. Whatever you think is best."
The truth is that she knows that she was half in love with Mamoru anyway. She can't exactly pinpoint when it happened; maybe it was within the context of the situation, coupled by her suspicions that he was in fact Tuxedo Mask, or maybe it just happened because things just do. She can remember bits and pieces of how kind he almost was, or how they were both caught off-guard at a particular moment. She cannot remember one particular time though.
In the middle of the meeting, she is forced to watch as the memories for the other girls start to come back. It hits Ami first, as she talks in mid-stride about how they need to fine-tune their strategies. It catches her and somewhere inside of herself, Usagi just knows that it's happening - her eyes start to brighten, there's the slow lazy curl of her mouth and she seems to just understand.
Makoto and Rei happen hand-in-hand; the two girls are having a mini-argument, Minako watching them with warm amusement and Usagi isn't quite sure who says what first, but then they are laughing together as if these past couple of months were really just years instead. There is a lump in her throat and the laughter seems well-placed and genuine. It's not complete, but it's there and there's nothing mistaking it - it is the same confidence that brought Minako into their lives.
Mamoru is watching her.
She is not broken-hearted. She just feels empty and unsure.
"Basics. Just remember the basics."
It doesn't hit her that she's standing in Mamoru's apartment until after Minako leaves, until she takes in the walls lined with books and dark and settled all the colors are. Minako flashes them a cheeky smile, eyes hard as she leaves and heads to meet the other girls elsewhere.
Usagi has wrapped her hair into two loops, then a single bun and squaring it so that it's out of her face. She's wearing a gym shirt and pair of Minako's leggings, feet bare as she watches Mamoru push off the rest of the furniture against the walls to give them both some space.
"We all can't be you," she says dryly.
He smirks.
There are two swords leaning against the wall. She doesn't ask how or why. She assumes that this has to do with the fact that he is the Prince and as the Prince, these odd things are just supposed to make sense.
"You're getting better," he says. "But you're not there yet."
Her eyes narrow. "Here we go."
"I mean it." He moves to stand in front of her, sleeves rolled to his elbow. He hasn't changed. His jeans fit low at his waist and the collar at his throat is sort of skewed. She likes him like this, she thinks. But that's as far as she'll let herself go. "When you're relying on your instinct, you are just as fast, if not just as strong as the others. When you trust yourself, you're the best."
"Stop," she says.
"You need to trust yourself, Usagi. I know you think that none of us get it. I know you think that it's -"
"Stop," she breathes. "Please stop."
Her hands go to her face, her fingers curling briefly against her cheeks. He doesn't move for where he stands in front of her, his eyes dark and heavy. It's for the best, she can hear the girls say. You need to catch up. You need to be the leader.
But it's that ugly feeling of being lost again, the way that it picks at her, at her confidence when she feels like she has no place in between any of the girls anymore. Is she just a stand in? Is that how it all works?
"Trust yourself," he says.
Then he launches at her, his fist drawn back. Her eyes burst into something hot and heavy and she twists, sliding around him but stumbling in her footing. It doesn't give her time to process anything because Mamoru's hand is around her arm, tight with his nails digging into her skin.
She twists against him, ends up turning, flushed against his back. His mouth is at her ear and she catches the hitch in his breath.
"I'm not you," she gasps, and throws her elbow back. It hits him in the stomach and he laughs breathlessly, jerking back but pulling her with him. The advantage is simple: He's taller, longer, and she's got to balance his direct weight with her own. She exhales.
Then it happens.
Her fist lands a punch against his stomach. He twists without reacting, trying to grasp her arm. But she's quick, she's faster suddenly, wrapping her fingers in his arm and pinning it against his back.
She is small enough to land a kick against his leg. It surprises him. It surprises him too and then he's on his knees, back turned to her as she tries and holds him still. He doesn't exactly struggle, but she knows him well-enough to predict that he's going to try something and force her into falling hard.
His head drops back. Then he smiles.
They are both sweating. Her hair is sticking to her face when he links their legs together and flips her onto her back. She hits the carpet hard, grunting.
"You make me so sad," she whimpers.
The words stumble out of her and his hand slips. She takes advantage, rolling her hips forward and then turning them so that he's on his back and she's straddling his hips. Her hair falls everywhere, out of the bun, along her face and jaw, over him as she loops herself over him.
Her eyes are bright. His eyes are too dark. She can read them. She doesn't want too. Her hands curl around his and she pins them over his head. She doesn't feel like a little girl anymore. She hasn't for quite some time.
"All of you," she says. "You all make me so sad. And I - I don't want to feel like this. I want to be happy that things are falling into place. But I feel like my heart is being ripped out from under me. I feel like everything is changing and I cannot catch up. I'm not supposed to catch up."
"Usagi," he breathes. His eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, Usagi-chan."
She shakes her head. "No. Don't look at me like that."
It feels like she's left herself, all reason and understanding of whatever is going on. Something inside of her snaps; maybe it's the way he's pressed underneath her, maybe it's how she slowly, oh so slowly, leans into him and lets her mouth brush over his own. This is not supposed to happen.
But then it's his mouth too, the way it opens back against hers, his tongue as it slides lazily into her mouth and his hand when it curls tightly into her hair. She kisses him to swallow him, to overwhelm him just as he's been overwhelming her, moment to moment without any regrets. She bites at his lip. He growls and then moans and when she rolls hips against his, he is half-turning her so that he can press her back into the floor.
Usagi snaps and stops him. The Princess, she thinks. She panics. Her hands push against his chest hard and she scrambles to her feet, to her bag and her shoes and coat at the door.
It takes everything, everything she has to ignore her name, how it rolls out of his mouth and he's standing up to catch her too. She opens the door before he can get to her.
"So you're hers. I accept that," she says. Her fingers are digging into the knob. "But remember," she tells him. "I loved you first."
The next battle ends with all her energy exploding. Then, after, her head is pillowed in Rei's lap, her fingers combing through her hair as the girls and Mamoru swarm her with their worries. The blood sticks to her mouth and she can't remember when it went to hell, but she is just so tired.
"We need to focuses on killing the youmas," Minako says. Her voice rises above all of theirs. "They're getting desperate. We still have one more crystal before we can do anything."
"Agreed," Mamoru says.
"But what about the people," Makoto chimes in. Rei makes a sound of agreement and Usagi can feel Ami's hand start to tend to the wound in her side .She can't remember if it was teeth or claws, but the youma today had nearly ripped her in half. "They're not just monsters," the girl says too. "They're people. We're supposed to protect these people."
"It's going to have to change," Minako says. "We can't afford -"
"No," Usagi breathes. "No."
"Usa-chan," Luna starts, but it's that tone and it's all too patronizing. She tries to sit up, crying out when Ami's hand digs too hard into her side and it's Rei, just Rei forcing herself to steady against her. Her gaze is unfocused.
But she's told them time and time again, she thinks. She's told them what she sees. She told them that these people are people and that they cannot compromise the safety of others just because of these crystals and such. Her head is swimming and she tries to stand too.
"I will not kill these people," she says quietly. "Crystal or no - I can them. I can see them trapped inside, ripped apart each time one of us fights back. I will not punish these people for the sake of this mission."
Minako leans back on her knees. Something changes in her gaze. The others, they watch her warily. Like they've never seen her before. She doesn't know if their memories are full and complete or just pieced together so now they know that she has, in fact, never been a part of their lives. That breaks her heart the most.
"There has to be another way," she says.
No one has answers for her. It's awhile before Rei takes her hand.
The sword is heavy. Mamoru has opened some of the windows by them; the light hits the blade, breaking its reflection as she turns the hilt from palm to palm.
Something in her is changing. She knows because the girls, the Princess - they're all looking at her differently. It's the way they carry themselves around her too. They're taller. They're careful. They seem older and wiser and completely part of something that she just can't quite touch. There is Mamrou too who is almost unrecognizable; if girls weren't already flustered around him, she thinks with dark amusement.
But she stares at the sword, familiar and unfamiliar. Her fingers touch the blade. She knows he's watching her. She knows that Minako's watching her too - she's off in a few minutes. They are making her keep to these weekly things.
They haven't talked about the kiss. She is content to let this go. She's content to pretend to let him go. It's what's best for everything, she thinks.
"Bye, Usagi-chan!" Minako's voice startles her from the doorway. She looks up and Mamoru is walking back to her, his hand reaching for his own sword.
They start first.
She doesn't feel bad about the elbow she throws to his face. He blocks her too, the blade of his sword scraping away at her own, just as she twists and his hand grips her waist. They are breathing heavily.
"You're angry," he says, voice low. His breath is warm against her ear. Her eyes stay open and wide. "I get it," he says.
"No," she growls. "You don't."
The memory happens;
and there is a garden, a beautiful garden, miles of flowers that seem to bend to her as she laughs even with the split in her dress.
He is watching her hungrily, lazily and she is holding the blade low, pressed at her side as she motions to him with a hand, her fingers wiggling in greeting. They are alone and this always gets them into trouble.
"I am not just a pretty face, your grace," she drawls. Her gaze sharpens and he steps forward, rolling the sleeves of his shirt. "You and yours are seemingly under the impression that I am."
She takes him in as a handsome man, far from conventional. His eyes are too bright and his mouth is even cruel. But she likes that about him. She likes that he is all of these pieces and none of them are supposed to fit together.
She still reaches up, peeling her hair loose from her style, letting the strands of silver fall and frame her face. His mouth parts and she licks her lips, bringing the sword up again.
"I always enjoy your surprises, Serenity," he says.
Her laughter fills the garden.
Mamoru takes her distraction, kicking the blade from her hand. It drops and skids across the floor, joining his own which has been lost since they started. She falls back into the carpet, him over her.
"Talk to me," he orders.
Her mouth twists and the words just kind of slip. "Of course, your grace," she breathes, and her leg tries to twist around his.
She flips him to his back. His hands catch her wrists.
There is this memory too;
his fingers pull the fabric away from her thighs, as it slips and pools around his hips. She feels his hand come around and off her hip, cupping the small of her back and then sliding underneath her dress.
"You're trouble," she breathes. "So much trouble," she says and leans in, letting her mouth graze his. She feels him smile with his teeth and rolls her hips forward, stealing a growl. "Venus says that the ladies of the court are beside themselves, hoping that they'll get to bed you and your guard before your visit with us finishes up."
He laughs against her mouth. "Jealous, love?"
"Not at all," she says. "I hear you've met the Princess."
She feels his smile and then it's his fingers in her hair, twisting lightly as he turns her into the grass. Her dress fans underneath her and he's pressing his weight into her, hard and almost thoughtful, his finger dragging along her throat.
She makes a sound because she likes it. She fallen deeply for his hands, she thinks, and the way he seems to touch her with a particular kind of reverence.
"I hear she likes me," he says.
Her eyes are burning. Mamoru presses her hands back, then turns them so that he's on top of her. They are a mess of limbs; her legs tangle with his and his mouth seems to hover over hers without any qualms and any acknowledgment of their Princess at all.
"Let it out," he says softly.
"Stop it," she tells him.
"No." He shakes his head and his hand comes to her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheeks. "No," he says again. "Not until you let it out. Not until you tell someone what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."
Her eyes are burning. There is nothing in her that doesn't want to scream out, nothing that wants to say how angry she is at all of them, at him for being so accepting of this and so blindly. It starts to crack and her insides feel like they're going to unravel, just in front of him with little to hold her back.
"Why are you doing this?" she asks. Her voice blurs. His lips graze hers. "Why is it so important to you to know how I feel?"
"We're all worried about you," he says quietly.
"I didn't ask you to be," she breathes.
Something in the way that he looks at her changes. Something snaps and she catches it; it's the way that his mouth seems to settle, in a half-frown and that soft, empty sigh that leaves his mouth without any sense of reprieve or understanding. She feels too open and vulnerable and wishes for some kind of weight to hide behind - the girls, the fight, and nothing of the memories that she cannot begin to like or understand.
"We're worried about you."
His hand slides against her hip. She almost wishes for her sword.
"Don't be."
He laughs softly. "Usagi," he says. "You have no idea the kind of impression you can make. That you do make. Princess or not, she wants you to be happy."
"I didn't ask for this," she breathes. She pushes at him but his grip tightens and she cannot pick apart any kind of energy to move at all. "Luna said it best. There was no Senshi of the Moon, Mamoru-san. All of you have these memories and are seemingly okay with them - but I don't know where I fit and it is tearing me apart. I cannot let anyone of you see that. Because if you all are following as you are - where does that leave me?"
He says nothing, of course. She doesn't expect anything. His fingers touch her mouth. His grip eases. She cannot look away from him though.
This is how he kisses her.
She is older and wiser without thinking.
His hand peels back the cut of her blouse, just as she starts to tug his shirt over his head. This is instinct. This feels like instinct, caught somewhere between memories both empty and full.
He kisses her and it's desperate, just as desperate as she feels, her fingers sliding along his spine and back, spreading over his skin as his hand starts to rise over her thigh. His tongue brushes over hers and she makes this soft, aching sound, unsure of the familiarity that suddenly opens in her. She knows to kiss him and twist herself into him; she knows that catching his lip between her teeth is what makes him growl and pull her that much closer.
"This isn't right," she breathes against his mouth, and his hand seems to tighten in his hair, drawing her up to press against him. He doesn't answer and she's glad, for once, she is just glad.
Her communicator rings.
Kunzite is far from beyond an intimidating man. He stands alone when they all arrive, surveying the scene as Usagi and the other girls stand in front of Minako. There is Mamoru at her side; Usagi can barely breathe as it is.
"I am not one for silly games," he says.
"We're not ones for stupid speeches," Makoto bites back. "At least we can understand each other."
There is something different. It goes beyond how they hold themselves now. Minako and Mamoru are biting at each other in the back; their argument unravels in harsh, heavy whispers and she cannot help but touch her mouth.
"Where's your army?" Rei snarls.
Kunzite's mouth twists. "I am here alone."
Ami is murmuring confirmations now and Usagi feels her hands twist into fists at her side. This isn't right, she thinks again. Her gloves settle against her mouth. The decision is there, waiting for her.
"Everyone," she says quietly. "You should take Minako-san away from here."
"No," Rei says.
"Absolutely not," Minako breathes.
Her gaze softens and she turns, twisting as she looks at the Princess. There is Mamoru at her side, taller and proud. But this isn't about him right now, she tells herself. It can't be. It can't be about any of them.
"Take the Princess and go," she says again. "I'll be fine. This is what I'm supposed do, right? Whether I remember or not, I'm your leader."
They all look at her, wide-eyed and helpless, but she ignores them as she walks forward. Her hands brush against her hip. She almost says something about the sparring, some quirk, some nervous quirk, and yet, she just can't bring herself to say anything else.
Kunzite looks directly at her. "I am giving you an opportunity to come to your senses, to protect yourself and your friends with a wise choice."
Usagi sees a man.
The pain that hits is like nothing else she's ever felt. The girls are trapped somewhere behind her; Kunzite is cruel in that he understands exactly how she feels and thinks.
Her fingers dig into her arm and she's fallen, on her knees, as Kunzite hovers over her. He isn't laughing. The girls are screaming. Someone is trying to pick at the walls between all of them.
"You're like a little bird," Kunzite tells her. "You and your pretty wings."
"I don't understand why you're doing this."
"Does it matter?" he asks, and she trembles. There is blood coming out from her mouth, from a side wound. The ground is shaking hard, ready to split, but she cannot find her footing. "All you need to understand is that you're going to lose, that you were always meant to lose."
Something inside of her snaps.
It's when he goes for her heart, when he knows that the other girls have the crystals, that she has stepped into sacrificing herself for the rest of them. As she should, she thinks. This is what she is meant to do.
He hits his her so hard, she flies back, her body bent at the strangest angle, head thrusted back as her ears and eyes are filled with everyone else's screams. It's when the memories start again, when faces become more faces, when names start to toss around in her head and Kunzite's hand wraps around her throat, tight, tighter, and then ready to kill her.
The light burst between them.
The memory says;
"Hello, little bird," the General's fingers brush her nose and she is young, younger than when this was supposed to start. She looks up at him in awe and someone behind her announces the prince's name. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Venus laughs softly, next to her, him. "She's curious," she says gently, and her fingers are in Serenity's hair. There are lips pressed against her forehead too and she feels herself sigh. "Leave her be, General."
The man laughs.
Her heart starts to unravel inside of her, piece by piece as she thinks things like mother and friends and love. It's how she stands slowly, feet to pavement, knees cracking, her hands outstretched as she stares down Kunzite, as he looks back at her in surprise.
"I remember," she says softly.
The air seems to crack. The wall of energy between the two of them and the rest of the girls, Mamoru, falls, but Usagi isn't paying any attention. Her gaze remains steady and on Kunzite.
"I remember," she says again, and the blood in her mouth is sticky, wet across her teeth. She feels like she's here and there, as if she were still stuck, but just at the peak of somewhere she should be.
It is this overwhelming feeling of sadness, of being split into then and now and thrusted into a place where things make too much sense. Her fuku is disappearing and she looks down, her fingers curling at the skirt of her dress. She rubs her knuckles into the fabric.
Mars died first, she thinks. Then it was Mercury. Makoto was dead before they reached the queen. Venus died just as the sword split through her own skin, her eyes wide. These are pictures that she all remembers.
The crystals burst forward then. They rise from behind her, from inside her pockets, and out from underneath Kunzite too. They start to spin around her, each glowing. They spin faster and faster and the gloves disappear from Usagi's hands. Serenity, she thinks. I am Serenity. Her palms turn out.
It's strange, so strange how the power settles inside of her. It feels like it's always been there, waiting for her to accept it. But it's more than that now. It churns inside of her, the memories of her mother, the way she used to say to her: it will always end with you and how this is the only thing that ever really made sense.
The others reach her then. It's Minako's hands in her hair, her fingers pulling, clutching, her eyes wide and burning with panic. The others are the same, just as they circle her, chiming in with her name and with a kind of reverence that is both familiar and utterly terrifying.
There is no reunion. They step in front of her, flanking her. Her fingers curl around the crystal, plucking it from midair. It rolls onto her palm and then it's Mamoru behind her, Endymoin, his armor now pressing against the open back of her and her dress.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
Her mouth twitches. "We'll talk later," she says.
She turns into him, but not completely. His mouth finds hers, his teeth nipping at her lips. She tries not to smile. It's a odd combination of joy; she is stuck in between bursting with happiness and unease. There are too many questions, too many moments that seem unable to come together and make some kind of sense.
But this is Endymoin. Her hand cups his face. He presses his forehead against hers.
They breathe.
This is the first memory;
and her mother is pressing a palm into the small of her back, her mouth curling as she breathes a thoughtful Serenity. But she looks at the Prince with a mix of amusement and bewilderment.
"I've heard so much about you," he says, taking her hand. Venus coughs next to her. Jupiter hides a laugh. "You are even more beautiful than they say."
"They?" she asks. There is no mistaking the humor in her voice. The generals at his side are a mix of smiles and soft laughter, gloves hiding their mouths. She's sure that Luna is off somewhere, completely ready to kill her for her cheekiness. "I must admit," she adds, watching him kiss her hand. He smiles against her skin. "I have heard of your legendary charm and was hoping for a little more - Mars?"
"Charm?" her guard adds dryly.
Serenity laughs. "Or something," she adds.
Her thoughts are a mix of delight and curiosity. Her mother has long since left them, politely and to her meetings, and the Prince has yet to let go of her hand. She likes the feel, she thinks. She likes how it's strong.
It's the Prince that grins again though. "Our trip is still young," he says.
Ami's fog does not settle fast enough. Kunzite's attack comes barreling through, hitting Makoto first and throwing her to the side.
Minako steps up and does not shy away from a direct attack, hurling her energy at dark general. She hits him and hits him hard, sending him flying back into the wall. Mamoru whirls her around, but Usagi is pushing at his chest.
"I have to fight," she says.
His eyes are dark. "No." His mouth sets. "I know what you're thinking."
"I'm not stupid," she hisses. Her eyes flash and there is a low light between them, the crystal dangles and then sets itself against her throat, over the same chain that keeps her locket.
They stare at each other. His eyes are hard. Then he has a fist in her hair, pulling her to him. She slams her mouth against his first though. She kisses with her teeth, biting at his lip and it's that sudden, desperate need to reassure herself that he's here and she's here and that maybe, just maybe, in the middle of all of this, it's going to be a very real second chance.
She pours herself into the kiss too. Her tongue sweeps along his mouth. His hand drops and grasps her hard at the hip. He moans and she gasps and between them, something seems to settle back into place.
This is how it all goes to hell.
You never forget. Instead of the sword sliding right through her belly, it's Kunzite's second attack and their hands being pulled apart.
She can hear herself scream his name - Mamoru, Endymoin - and then Makoto's arms around her waist as she and the other girls pull her back. Minako steps in front of her and they all watch in horror as Mamoru's body snaps and bends back in midair. There's a sharp light, and then long, dark arms wrapping around him, his body, and his throat.
No, no, she thinks. No. She tries to fight Makoto and her arms, the sob that wretches out of her throat, burning as Rei tries to pin her between the two of them, murmuring words that she cannot hear. But she cannot take her eyes off of Mamoru and then, god, then he falls, his body limp at Kunzite's feet.
"No," she croaks.
"We cannot," Minako breathes. "We cannot."
Kunzite is smiling as he disappears, Mamoru's body draped over his arms. "Princess," he says.
The temple is beautiful during the fall. At night, the steps are alight with candles and visitors, Rei's grandfather running about and taking wishes and names. The murmurs are low and warm and everything, everything feels so completely still.
Rei keeps her in the bedroom. Ami is stuck at school, Makoto helping Rei put up a few more things to greet the visitors. The leaves are already changing and if it were a different, a different time, Usagi would drag both girls to sit on top of the steps, shoulder to should to watch them.
Instead, she is curled up on Rei's bed. Her hand is wrapped around her locket and the crystal, her fingers digging into the chain. Her eyes are open and wide and when the door opens too, off on the side, she curls her knees closer to her chest.
The bed sinks with weight. There are fingers in her hair, brushing against her forehead and then her cheek. Usagi's eyes water.
"I had to, you understand." Minako's voice fills the room. Something in the sound catches and shudders. "It was to protect you, to give you time to come into your own. All of you."
"I know," Usagi says.
"Do you?" she asks. Minako is trembling now, her mouth tight and taunt. Usagi doesn't look at her yet. "I cannot stand for you to be angry with me, Usa-chan. The others, I can. But you - please," she says too. "Please."
There is no we'll get him back. There doesn't need to be. Usagi forces herself to sit up slowly, shifting her legs and then reaching for the other girl, her hands brushing against her face. She lets her fingers brush against Minako's hair, along her face and then her jaw and then she drags the other girl into her arms, her eyes closing tightly.
Minako breathes into her shoulder. Then it's her fingers in her blouse. The door opens again off to the side and it's the other girls walking into the room. They all watch her and wait.
"I know," she says again. She does not say: this is okay.