The Two Meetings! Ice Cream Brings the Message of Crisis
I can't believe we agreed to this.
After the little skirmish with the Black Moon (Misora refused to call it a battle), she and Kyoko had stayed for a while and spoken with Mujou. Well, more like he had wriggled and shouted and nearly wet his pants while the two of them stood by. Kyoko did most of the talking anyway ... because Misora knew that if she opened her mouth, the first thing she would have said would have been cruel and that wouldn't have gone over well. Not when they needed to inform the Crisis Senshi of their duty. So, when it had been suggested they meet at neutral territory ... Misora had agreed.
After sending Kyoko back to her job (both of them having jobs would be great and Misora didn't want her to get into trouble), she headed out to purchase a bed, some basic kitchen items, and to stock the pantry. That had taken up the rest of the morning and some of the afternoon. Now, Misora was on her way to an ice cream parlor where they had agreed to meet. Claiming a booth hidden in the back as theirs, Misora ordered a matcha parfait and waited.
Her blue eyes were narrowed as she thought back to the tussle and all that had taken place. If he's one of the Crisis Senshi, then this world is doomed. He didn't seem to listen to his Guardian that well. Then again ... and at this she smiled slightly. Neither did a certain odango. Just the thought of her princess was enough to make her heart ache and so she was relieved when her ice cream was set before her.
"Itadakimasu," she whispered and plucked the strawberry from the top, biting into it carefully as she looked out the window, wondering where the others were.
"That looks good!" Kyoko seemed to pop up out of nowhere while Misora was looking out the window. She sat down with a heavy sigh, flopping her bag down on the floor before sliding it between her feet. She pulled Misora's hand over and took a little bite of what was left of her strawberry before looking at the little dessert menu.
"I take it the guy hasn't shown up yet?" She asked quietly, looking around to see if the young man had gone to the washroom or something.
Startled out of her reverie by the appearance of her lover, Misora smiled tenderly ... only to gasp and jerk her fingers away as Kyoko stole what was left of her strawberry.
"Should I be worried you'll bite my fingers off next?" she drawled affectionately and brushed a discreet kiss to Kyoko's temple. It looked as though she were whispering in her ear to the untrained eye. "And no, he hasn't arrived yet. He doesn't seem the type to be punctual."
Misora took a bite of fruit from her parfait and then started on the ice cream part.
"Why not order something sweet while you're waiting, koneko-chan?"
Without any argument, Kyoko ordered a chocolate sundae and a fruity soda before turning her attention back to her love. It was slowly becoming apparent that things were not going to be easy in the Universe with the enemies ... and extremely green Senshi.
"I wonder why we couldn't have just found a way to gain more power and take care of it all ourselves." Kyoko said with a sigh. "I don't really like the idea of having to train a new group of baby Senshi ... If this guy is any indication... we're screwed." She rolled her eyes, the waitress setting down her order.
"Itadakimasu." She said happily before taking a long drink of her blue colored soda.
~ * ~
A brown-haired boy dashed along the avenue that the restaurant was on. Nervousness was etched across his face, and an owl flew behind him in the air, hooting angrily for fear of speaking and revealing himself as more than ordinary.
"I can't believe I'm so late!" Mujou moaned to himself. The sun was already threatening to set, making him an hour tardy. He only hoped that the senshi hadn't chosen to leave without him there. "I bet this doesn't happen to normal people!"
Pathos rolled his eyes, flapping his wings frantically. Of course it didn't happen to normal people -- normal people were responsible! Why couldn't he have gotten one of those for his senshi?
"Just yesterday," Pathos thought to himself. "Sailor Moon was killed. Who could have done such a thing? Somehow, I don't believe it was the Black Moon -- not if that last battle was any indication of the power of the rest of their soldiers. How could this happen so quickly?"
The owl peered down at his senshi worriedly. Would Mujou be ready for this terror that threatened existence? How could this flaky young man ever hope to stop an enemy that was apparently too strong for even the Negaverse Senshi? This was going to be even more difficult than he thought.
Swinging into the ice cream parlor he'd agreed to meet the other senshi in, Mujou stumbled into a stop, looking about for the other two. How would he be able to recognize them in their mundane form?
"We'll be near the back," Sailor Neptune had said earlier that afternoon. As Pathos brushed his leg frantically (trying desperately not to be noticed by the parlor's owners), Mujou noticed what his guardian was trying to bring his attention to. There, in the back of the restaurant, two girls sat eating ice cream in a booth, and they seemed to be more than a bit flirtatious with each other. That had to be them!
"Konnichiwa!" Mujou shouted gleefully, waving his arms and making a general commotion in the tiny restaurant. Running over to the table, he sat down quickly and waited for the waitress to come back so he might order something.
"It's so nice to meet you," Mujou said with an enthusiastic bow of the head. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I'm Mujoukan, but please feel free to call me Mujou-chan!" This was too cool! He was actually having ice cream with the sailor senshi!
"Oh!" he perked up. "I almost forgot." Taking a poorly folded piece of paper from his pocket, Mujou carefully placed his drawing at the center of the table.
Opening the page up, he revealed a picture of himself and the two he was sitting with, in chibi form and dressed as senshi. The two he adored so were holding their hands in the picture, with Mujou sitting at their feet and waving. All three had cheesy (and for some, rather out of character) grins on their faces.
~*~ Clouds drifted across the blue sky, obscuring the sun as they passed and casting dancing shadows on the earth below. She was grateful for them; the brightness of the sun was still uncomfortable, this soon after arriving at this time and place, and for the moment her sunglasses (fashionable, of course, but then again Kera had picked them out just the other day for her) were tucked haphazardly in the back pocket of a slightly dirty pair of jeans. There was dirt beneath her fingernails and a streak of it across one cheek, bees droning distantly in the honeysuckle, and the smell of flowers filling the air.
It was, all told, a deceptive peace, but one that gave her time to think, and that was what she needed most right now.
Hiyori plucked the last weed from where it had encroached on her just-sprouting crocuses and tossed it into the pile. The earlier altercation had aggravated her far more than she wanted to admit, and rather than trying to explain to her false family just what was troubling her (or attempt to evade doing so), she had headed out here. Now, after several hours of weeding and pruning, the brief flare of temper had cooled. There was no sense in getting worked up over what had been; plans had only changed, not been rendered impossible.
Straightening, she paused only long enough to clip herself several roses before heading back towards the house. Pearl should be home soon, and there were matters more important than her garden to attend to. The flowers would keep.
Inside, the door to her room safely closed behind her, Hiyori's quiet manner shifted slightly. The guise did not change, but for all the lack of the identifying moon on her forehead (replaced, instead, with a smear of dirt where she'd rubbed a hand there before, and caught again removing her cap), it was very much the Black Moon's princess who placed the roses with casual precision in the vase before going to wash the dirt from her hands, and who turned at the sound of familiar footsteps beyond the door.
Pearl waltzed in wearing a darling little primrose-yellow sundress, which was the first admirable thing; he was waltzing in high-heeled sandals, which was always a difficulty. He peeled off his prissy little lace gloves and was definitively Pearl again as he grinned at her, all mischief, not the Kakera in the dress.
"Darling, you're so mucky!" he said. "You look like a mud baby. Here, here, here." He pulled out his handkerchief: it had little yellow ducks on it. Pearl reached up and fussed about her face, much like a mother bear. "And your jeans are horrible. I should burn them out back in the incinerator. Can't you get a nice gardening apron, or something? Remember, dry-cleaning exists for a reason --"
He finished with the handkerchief, reached up again to kiss her on the cheek (leaving a slight smear of lip-gloss) and opened up his little frilly bag. He dug out a newspaper, and placed it -- just a little crumpled -- up on the counter, so that Mara could see the headline.
"Unidentifiable dead cosplayer, my precious girl," he said. "A Yamada Hanako. You'd think they'd be able to identify, wouldn't you, 'cos that's not a wig."
Mara absently brushed away the shimmer of gloss with one hand, the other reaching for the paper. "What?" she asked, bypassing all of the fussing and focusing on what (to her, at least) was the important thing here. And, "How?"
One pale finger traced the text as she read, but her attention kept darting to the picture. It was hard to believe, but there was no denying the evidence of her eyes. Even with the distortions of film, she knew that face, though it had looked different -- older, wiser, more regal -- in the past-future she and hers had known. Hard to believe ...
"I guess I'll never get to thank her for trying," she said quietly, but then she folded the paper and laid it aside, picture down on the damask bedspread. "If they knew, those two, it might explain some things. But we'll deal with the White Moon's senshi as we have to, and these new ones besides. This changes nothing."
Except that it means someone else may be active here, which means we've more than just the senshi to watch out for. Whether it was Chaos or someone else entirely ... oh, what a fine kettle we seem to have landed in.
~ * ~
"I agree," Misora was serious again even as she slowly made her way through her ice cream. Her eyes were narrowed and there was a darkness shading the blue orbs. "If the rest of the Crisis Senshi are anything like that Sailor Psi ... this world is in trouble. Our comrades are still scattered everywhere and we have no idea where to start looking. I just hope that he isn't as big of a fool as he was before ..."
Misora spoke slowly, as always, thinking about every word. This situation was heavy and weighed on her shoulders. Still, she had a faint glimmer of hope that they would be able to work with this Sailor Psi.
... And that's when she saw Mujou come running into the parlor.
Ah, that vein is probably throbbing again I'll wager. Misora had been told countless times that whenever she was truly annoyed, a vein would appear in her forehead and she would start to twitch. She could practically feel it as Mujou came over and sat down across from them. Misora took in his appearance carefully. Messy brown hair, wrinkled clothes ... it looks as though he just stumbled out of bed.
"Mujoukan-kun, you really shouldn't ..." and her gaze went to the piece of paper that had just been unfolded before her. "... Ano ... Mujoukan-kun ..."
Don't say a word. Just don't. If Misora did say something, it would most likely wind up being cruel. But he would learn. He would learn soon enough. How embarrassing. But I suppose we'll have to introduce ourselves.
"I am Yuushi Misora. Nineteen. I'm second-in-command underneath Venus and leader of the Outer Sailor Senshi. Nice to meet you," she then went back to her ice cream, waiting for Kyoko to comment if she wanted.
All of this was said formally and quietly, in Misora's usual style and she had a feeling that Mujou would react loudly. Again. If he starts wriggling again, I'm going to have to do something drastic.
"Misora doesn't smile." Kyoko said bluntly after looking at the drawing before sitting back to take a bite of her ice cream. She put her spoon back in her ice cream after Misora introduced herself and seemed to think a moment, studying Mujou.
"Youjou Kyoko, nineteen, Sailor Neptune." She gave the young man a smile and a V sign. "If you start yelling about how amazing we are again ... I will deny everything and call you a nut case. Kay? This is business ... so order some ice cream so we can get down to it."
With another cute smile she turned back to her spoon, figuring this would be a tag team event for Misora and her.
Somewhat embarrassed as he was half-scolded, Mujou decided against arguing back (how could he argue with SAILOR URANUS AND NEPTUNE?!) and nodded rather sheepishly. The waitress approached with a smile on her face, ready to take his order.
Looking down at the menu, Mujou considered briefly before lighting up at an interesting flavor. "I'll have the wasabi ice cream with some water, please!" It certainly sounded interesting ... and maybe even salty. Yum!
Returning his gaze to the serious senshi in front of him, Mujou's ecstatic grin wilted to a rather unenthusiastic half-smile. Grabbing his drawing and reluctantly crumpling it up, he looked slightly downtrodden as he asked, with a sigh, "So what are we meeting here to talk about?"
Relieved to see the drawing go, Misora pushed aside her ice cream with regret (matcha ice cream should never be wasted), and turned her full attention to the young man sitting in front of them.
"Kyoko and I are from a different universe than yours, called the Negaverse. There, we became Sailor Senshi and fought against several enemies, such as the Black Moon you met today. Our Princess, Sailor Moon, about fifteen years ago in your time delivered a message to the prophet Takeuchi Naoko to inform her that it was her duty to awaken the Crisis Senshi team and have them trained up by the time fifteen years went by."
There was a slight narrowing of her eyes, the only sign of what Misora thought of this so-called "prophet" who didn't even do her duty correctly. And now the Princess is dead because of it ... but she snapped her attention back to Mujou with her unwavering gaze.
"The prophet failed to complete her mission. You were supposed to be awakened and trained properly so that you would be ready to face the evil that is approaching, for the Crisis Senshi are only awakened during times of dimensional crisis. However," she sighed a little at this. "It seems that you must have read Takeuchi's work because you know about us. Although ... we are slightly different than the Senshi she created. Ne, Kyoko?"
And Misora turned to Kyoko with a bit of warmth lighting up her eyes. Her expression remained flat and cold though. Mujou would soon come to learn that it was how Misora always was ... except under special circumstances.
"Hai." Kyoko nodded, covering her mouth since she had been caught in the middle of a spoonful of ice cream. She took a moment to swallow before taking the lead.
"We are a little different from the Senshi you know ... so don't try to be all buddy-buddy ..." It wasn't every day she got to be all strict. "We're only here to tell you about the trouble ... We aren't here to hold your hand." She put another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth to let that sink in.
"We have no idea what you're getting yourself in, so listen to your Guardian and train until you can't train any more." She waved her spoon at him with serious look.
Mujou blinked vacantly as he took in Misora's words. Prophecy? So the manga was all an embellishment that Naoko-san hadn't even thought of on her own? This was ... upsetting ...
Worse still, it sounded like his job as a senshi was very important -- like he would have to do a lot of hard work. That didn't sound like fun at all -- and from what he could tell so far, Pathos would be a slave driver. Glaring down at the owl (who glared right back) on the word "train," he looked back up at Kyoko when she was through.
"So we can't be friends, then?" he asked in response to Kyoko's cold manner and harsh words. "Just because you're here to warn me doesn't mean you can't help -- I mean, I could really use you guys right now while I'm starting out!"
"Just right now ...?" Pathos mumbled sarcastically before promptly being shut up by a foot to the beak.
The wasabi ice cream that the waitress had brought some time ago was almost half melted now. Why was he the only one that had to work? How would he be able to fend off an entire army of bad guys without some help? Pouting slightly, Mujou stared sadly out the window.
"I thought we could at least be friends ..."
~ * ~
Back in Hiyori's mansion, Pearl was approaching matters as he saw absolutely fit, considering it was deepening into the evening: this consisted of wearing a large t-shirt proclaiming his membership into the Hello Kitty Club, hair pinned up in braids and face swathed in an enriching face masque as he painted his toenails baby pink. Fortunately, he hadn't gone so far as to put the cucumber slices on his eyes.
"You know," he said, without much preamble, "I think we should get to know these new senshi quickly rather than slowly, Princess. I have been formulating an idea inside my curly little head. See, I think that if we have learnt anything, it is that letting a bunch of fashion victims in teeny weeny skirts or sailor hats or whatEVER he was wearing I mean GAWD hang around together is a bad idea."
He put a little cotton ball in-between his tiniest toe and the one next to it. "The lion separates the gazelle it wants from the herd. Otherwise it gets a hoof in the eye, Hiyori-chaaa~aaan."
The smile was a little absent, a little tolerant -- she was well-used to the mannerisms of her young-seeming companion by now. While Pearl set about with his nail-painting, Mara laid the paper aside and rose to pace. It wasn't that it was any harder to think while sitting; she just wanted to move right now, as though that would help things fall into place.
It took two dozen steps to cross the length of the room, two dozen back on soft carpet the color of thistles, two dozen more to the window again. There she stopped, leaning back against the sill and studying Pearl.
"So. Tell me what you have in mind."
"Eighteen to twenty-two," he said decidedly, and examined his manicure. "Variable of seventeen to twenty-five, maybe, if he moisturizes a lot. Vocabulary was high school -- late high school, early university -- sophisticated high frequency words; even if he is a moron. Why are they always so young? -- He'll be local, Hiyori, my darling and my dearest of hearts. Somebody will squeal, if I look hard enough. They always do. And the best place to start is the scene of the crime!"
Despite herself, she laughed, bright and merry and unforced. "Oh, sweetheart, I never thought your -- predilections -- would come in handy in such fashion! And it shan't be too odd for Kera-chan to go looking around there, I should think. Just promise me that you shan't go after him without considering the consequences thoroughly; I would hate to see more than your pretty hair harmed, and," more seriously, "the information you gather will no doubt be vital."
Enthusiasm restored by the suggestion, she slid back on the sill, tucking her heels up on the ledge. "And while you take care of that, my dear, there are plenty of other matters to attend to. No one shall think too strangely of it, I'm certain, if Hiyori takes a look around at a hospital the Tenwa Zaibatsu is funding. There are always times when eyes turn away there, and always those whose souls would be better given in service than lingering in a life that is no life at all."
"Oh, they'll hardly notice anyway," said Pearl, and wiggled his toes. "Just pass your limpid hand over by all those coma-ridden car accident patients and away you'll go. Really, darling, you're right, they're just lingering on like horrible vegetables anyway. You will be careful with the Consumption, though, won't you? You know I worry."
Her sham-cousin started removing the cotton wads from his toes, and beamed at her with equal enthusiasm. They always had both enjoyed it when a plan came together. "Smart move about the hospital, though, Hiyori-chaa~aan! See how nice it is to be a benefactress? Nobody will notice you in your precious Dolce and Gabbana, and let me dress you beforehand just so we can get the look absolutely right, and nobody will care about a little grade-schooler trying to net a university boyfriend. It's foolproof."
~ * ~
At Mujou's thought that they could be friends, and that they would help him, Misora's gaze darkened. I don't make friends that easily. And as for you ... you have no idea of the real war. You have no idea about our Princess ... Misora's hand was squeezed so hard around her glass that it began to crack in places and she snapped out of her anger and her sorrow long enough to calmly remove her hand as though nothing had happened.
"Mujoukan-kun, you have to understand something. This is a serious war that's going on. You and the other Crisis Senshi were supposed to be awakened fifteen years ago and you were not. Please believe us, we do not wish to be harsh with you but this is reality. It's your life on the line ..."
And for a brief moment, Misora lost control of her tightly-gripped emotions. As she looked at Mujou, deep sorrow, loss, and rage showed in her blue eyes.
"Be glad that you have us here," she said tightly. "Our Princess didn't. And now she is dead. The Sailor Moon 'cosplayer' they discovered was no cosplayer. It was our Princess."
She took a moment for that to sink in as she gripped her glass again.
"Now do you understand? We're fighting to save lives here. Our comrades are scattered everywhere, Kyoko and I were lucky we found one another. And because we weren't there, Sailor Moon is dead. Do you still think this is a game? Do you?!"
With that, the glass shattered in Misora's hand.
Kyoko pulled Misora's hand over gently as she pulled her napkin from her lap. She turned her eye out to the people who had turned to look at them as she dipped the napkin in her water. She dabbed Misora's hand before pulling it to her mouth to capture a shard of glass that had embedded itself with her teeth. Once she had it she deposited it into her napkin before applying pressure to the wound.
"We won't lose, Sora-chan," she whispered softly with determination in her voice, and then looked at Mujou. "You have to give us time, Mujou-san. We have been through much more than you can imagine. The Crisis Senshi are suppose to be more powerful than us ... We need to know we can trust you to work hard and do what needs to be done to save your world."
Sailor Moon was ... dead ...
Mujou wasn't sure what to think. This had all happened so fast -- becoming a senshi, meeting Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune, and now this. His childhood hero had existed, and he'd never had the chance to meet her. He wanted to ask what she was like, why they weren't there, how he could help ... but he realized that questions were, well, out of the question right now. Someone very close to all three of them (even if one hadn't met her) had died, and Mujou didn't know what to say.
"I'll try," he managed to mutter, choking back some tears. He had to be strong so that the two in front of him could relax. They had so much more to worry about than him.
At this moment, the owl that had been flapping beneath the table for so long spoke up. May I suggest something?" Pathos spoke up, fluttering against Kyoko's knee. "Mujou needs training desperately, we know that."
Mujou glared beneath the table, but decided against kicking the owl in the beak for the time being.
"And he enjoys playing superhero, yes? I know his antics are childish, but for the time being, maybe we can use them to our benefit."
Mujou rolled his eyes. "Do I really need to hear all this? I can't believe you guys don't have more faith in me! I mean, I DID hit that little girl thing with a branch, didn't I?"
The awkward pause was almost palpable.
"Mujou," Pathos continued. "Want to chase a robber?"
Misora hadn't even noticed that there was a deep shard of glass embedded in her hand. At least not until Kyoko had taken her hand and removed the glass shard with her teeth. Hissing and wincing slightly, Misora kept perfectly still and gave her lover a small smile.
"Thank you, koneko-chan," she whispered, leaning in close. "I'll be sure to thank you properly later."
With that, Misora took a deep breath and turned back to Mujou. She was going to apologize when all of a sudden Pathos flapped up and suggested that Mujou ... chase a robber. Misora's mouth opened and closed a few times and she wondered where the owl had gotten THAT idea. But that's when she considered it for a while. Hmmm, he makes a good point. Mujoukan-kun seems to enjoy being the hero. It will help him with his training and it will be good for him to gain more confidence.
"I think that's an excellent idea, Pathos," Misora said calmly. "It will help Mujoukan-kun gain the skills he needs without having to run the risk of getting himself killed. Mundane criminals are fine. It is how Sailor V made her start, after all."
With that, Misora rose to her feet and slipped out of the booth.
"Kyoko and I are going home. You train well, Mujoukan-kun, and have fun chasing that robber. Maybe you'll even be seen on the news," she said with a small, wry smile.
Holding out her hand, Misora turned her gaze back to Kyoko, her eyes shining. "Shall we?"
After setting her napkin and spoon down she took Misora's hand and stood after digging some yen out of her pocket to cover their ice cream.
"You're in deep now, Mujou-san. Train hard and try to be professional about it. This isn't a manga." She picked up her bag, still holding Misora's hand and stood, motioning with her head for the other girl to lead the way out.
~ * ~
Misora took Kyoko back to their apartment on the train and held her hand the entire time, lost in her own world. Her eyes were far away, thinking, otherwise she would never have shown such a display in public. When they finally arrived in the familiar area of Shiba Koen, Misora smiled a little in Kyoko's direction.
"I hope he'll be able to train. If he doesn't ... well, let's not think about that. Tonight it'll be just us koneko-chan."
Once they were upstairs and in the familiar (if a bit bare) apartment, Misora felt relaxed and comfortable for the first time in several days. Once their shoes had been discarded, Misora smiled playfully and scooped her lover into her arms.
"Come and see the new bed I bought today. It may not be as broken-in as our old one but I'm sure we can fix that," she chuckled and leaned up to kiss Kyoko, carrying her to the bedroom. "I'm not letting you sleep tonight."
Kyoko giggled softly, returning Misora's kiss. It was nice to be in a home together again. Even if it had been a short while, it felt like an eternity since they had been in the same bed together.
"We'll just have to see who falls asleep first." She said with a little smirk as she put her arms around Misora's neck and was carried into the bedroom.
~ * ~
Sighing as the two left, Mujou looked at his ice cream pitifully. It had melted and wasabi-flavored milk was spilling onto the table now. Standing up, he promptly left as well, Pathos trying desperately not to be seen as he flew out quickly.
Taking a back alley home, Mujou sulked about, not sure what to think now. He had to train, and he had to work hard, but how could he do that when this threat would be too much even for two of the senshi he looked up to?
Looking in his left hand, he opened up his crumpled drawing again and stared longingly at it. Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus certainly weren't what he thought they were, and Sailor Moon ... he didn't even want to think about it.
"Mujou ..." the familiar voice hooted at him, landing on his shoulder as they walked through the alley no one else traversed. "Look, I'm sure they didn't mean it that harshly, but they're right. You're a Crisis Senshi, and if you're going to be second-in-command, you really need to focus more and take some responsibility."
Mujou looked at the owl, ready to tell him off for all the insults today, but he stopped himself. Pathos was trying to be sympathetic, and he was right; this was different from what Mujou thought it'd be. He had to try.
Putting his drawing back in his pocket, he nodded to himself. Maybe he could show Misora and Kyoko - maybe he could prove to everyone that he really could do this.
Maybe he could even prove it to himself ...