A massive flurry of snow surrounded Fubuki as she transformed into Sailor Miranda. The crowd screamed in terror, scurrying away like cockroaches--a massive flood of terrified insects. The few that stayed were frozen like the very statues they worshiped, their faces overwrought with shock and fear.

"Fubuki!" her mother was screaming, barely audible above the crowd. Only her mother could manage to do that. "Fubuki, what are you doing?! Get away from there!"

Sailor Miranda finished her transformation. The youma was still on the ground, and Miranda could see her mother's face. It was pallid, overwhelmed. Miranda cackled happily at her shock.

"It's the day of the Queen, my dearest," she said with a smirk, "so I thought I'd give you a nice surprise!" She spread her hands like claws and looked toward the sky. "Look, 'mommy'! You should be proud!"

Her mother backed away, confusion flooding her face. Sailor Miranda moved closer to the Youma, and in doing so, closer to her mother. Sailor Miranda clamped a heel firmly on the pallid youma's stomach, who screamed in anguish .

"Your daughter is a God!"

Moon Senshi: Unmei no Kodomo

Episode Twelve:

"Downward to Heaven"

Fubuki continued to laugh as her mother stared blankly toward her.

Her cackling dampened abruptly as the youma's claw-like hand curled around Fubuki's leg. Fubuki joined her victim as the youma pulled her to the ground.

"Fucker," Miranda spat. "I killed one of you hussies, I can do it again," she hissed, bringing herself to her feet. As she pulled herself upward, the youma was already standing in front of her, smirking. In the time that Fubuki had been down, the youma had already managed to stand up.

Miranda promptly raised a fist and swung at the woman's face; a futile move, as the youma's long, spindly fingers reached out and caught Miranda's wrist before it could even hope to make contact.

"Shit!" she spat. "How the fuck did--"

Miranda screamed as a multitude of thin, red string slithered out of the woman's palm and wrapped around her arm like a snake. The string was rapidly engulfed in raging fire--as was Miranda's glove.

The youma pushed Miranda back to the ground. Miranda screamed as she covered her arm with her torso, effectively dousing the flame before it could seriously damage her arm--but leaving an excruciating burn mark across her stomach.

"You fucking bitch," Miranda spat, gasping for breath. "I'll fucking kill you..."

Miranda pulled herself up, sweating and feeling nauseous. It was strangely quiet, especially considering that the fucking youma had just torched her arm.

Her mother was still standing there, as though she had been petrified.

Miranda smiled as she felt the sweat beading on her forehead.

"Well, mom," she said croakily, "what do you think?"

"I was wondering, myself..." an echoey voice called.

Fubuki's eyes widened as her mother became engulfed in fire, the flame spiraling into the sky. Her mother was going to burn to death...

"FUCK!" she screamed. "If anyone kills that bitch, it's gonna be me!"

She forced herself to run forward, cringing in pain as she felt the stinging sensation of the air against her scorched skin. As she approached the flame, it spread outward. Miranda ran headlong into it, expecting herself to scream in agony at any moment, and frankly, not giving a shit.

The flames touched her skin like feathers, leaving her unharmed. Her mother, caught in the middle of a wall of fire, was likewise unharmed. Even the heat seemed to dissipate inside the circle.

"Get the fuck out here," Miranda shouted outward, hoping that the broad would reappear, "Get your--"

"You should try to get her out of there, Fubuki,"

Miranda froze. The fire and her mother disappeared. She was suddenly in the hallway, all those years ago--

"Momma won't listen, nana," she pouted, "Momma doesn't hear."

"Just try," her nana encouraged her. "Just try."

Fubuki walked up to the door of her mother's room. It seemed huge, foreboding. Painted white and powder blue, her mother's colors back then, it seemed huge to such a little girl. There was no noise beyond the door. Fubuki was half struck with the notion that--like those scary movies her father watched--opening it would reveal some bloody horror, some severed head or gory suicide.

Fubuki rapped on the door. "Momma?" she whimpered. "Momma, you there?"

Hysterical sobs started as her small fist rapped.

"His daughter," she screamed incoherently. "His daughter, his life, his life---"

Fubuki began crying at her mother's outburst. "Momma," she sobbed, "Momma, what's wrong? Please come out, momma--"

The horrified sobs continued.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Miranda shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are, you whore, playing around with me?"

"From now on, Fubuki, we're going to church," Her mother told her, tying her hair up in pink ribbons.

Back when she was young and stupid...

"Church?" Fubuki repeated. "Why?"

Only because that bitch believed in shit...

"Your father did a terrible thing," she told her, patting her on the head, "and this is our way of saying we're sorry."

But daddy died protecting people...he didn't do anything wrong....

"He didn't do anything wrong!" she shouted, still wearing her uniform, barely home from private school. "What is wrong with you, mom? Why are you so obsessed with this?"

Even after all this time, she still didn't fucking know what her mother's problem was.

"Don't talk back to me, Fubuki! Get in the car!"

"I won't! I won't!" she screamed, clutching into the railing as her mother dragged her outside. "I WON'T!"

"I won't give in..."she cried. She threw a jewelry box across the room and into the wall, smashing it into pieces and leaving a dent besides.

Her second year of junior high.

"Whatever the hell makes her mad, that's what I'm gonna do!" she spat. "I'll smoke drugs...I'll join gangs...whatever pisses her off, I'm there!"

"--Most likely it was that boy she's seeing; that druggie boy. I've told her to break up with that impecunious filth, but of course, that only encourages her the more. She enjoys seeing me suffer."

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Miranda screamed. "I already know all of this shit, I fucking lived through it! Cut the crap so I can rip you apart, you whore!"

The visions of her childhood abruptly disappeared. Miranda's eyes were now filled with the sight of snow-topped trees. There was an unearthly silence, broken only by the sound of snow toppling off branches and falling onto the ground below. Ahead of her she could see a ghostly figure, shrouded by an opaque block of ice.

"What the fuck...?" she whispered, moving toward it. "I know you're here, you whore!" she shouted as she walked. "Get the fuck out here, I'm not fucking afraid!"

Miranda reached the strange block of ice. There was a thin covering of frost over it; she held her glove up and gently brushed it away.

Miranda stifled a gasp.

Her own body was suspended in the block of ice, clutching protectively onto her trench coat--as if she were resisting the unbearable cold to the very last.

"What the fuck are you trying to pull now?!" she shouted. "Huh? What's the fucking idea?"

"Slowly, slowly, you freeze your heart into ice, even as the rest of you is caught in sound and fury."

"Fuck off with the metaphors," Miranda hissed.

"All caring, hope, kindness and love is pushed below, frozen, where it can't be touched. And all that emotion comes out in a single form, burning a path in front of it--anger. Anger to your loved ones, anger to your enemies, anger when life is unfair. Anything that's in your way is attacked, fought, kicked, bitten, smashed."

"None of your fucking business."

"Some of the psychologists thought your mother was going to be permanently mute," the voice continued. "Trauma. She locked herself away even after she began to speak, and the sounds of sobbing echoed from her room morning and night..."

"Shut the hell up!" Miranda screamed. "Go the hell away!"

"And, after that, she blamed it all on your father."

"Everything in this house that belongs to that sinner has to be burned, sold, whatever! Just get rid of it! Our new life has no room for this!"

Miranda clenched her hands over her hears. "Shut the hell up..." she whimpered. "Go away..."

"You'll never forget it, will you Fubuki? The sound of her cries in the night...the day she told you your father was a monster...a bloodthirsty man who longed for the violence of his career..."

"Arctic blades!" Miranda screamed. The buzz saws spiraled toward the block of ice, splitting her own image in half. The blocks slid apart on the slippery snow, steaming where her blades cut through them. As they slid away from each other, the youma appeared once more, her visage calm as her flame-spattered dress materialized. She held the red string in her hands, still flaming as it had before.

"You little fucker--" Miranda held her hands out. "Arctic blades!"

The youma jumped nimbly upward as Miranda's blades spiraled toward her. She took the opportunity to fly forward, charging at Miranda's shoulders with her string stretched between her palms. Miranda screamed as the string stretched across her.

"You bitch," she stuttered almost incoherently. "I'll kill you..." Tears fell from her eyes as the searing pain touched her.

"And how are you going to do that?" the youma asked wryly, a grin barely visible through her veiled face. "Your kakon is mine already, girl. Its power is coursing through my veins."

Miranda screamed. She forced her arm upward and clenched the youma's throat; the whore barely flinched. Her strength was failing her...

"Rimy thorns!" she spat, her voice hoarse. Blood spilt around her wrists as icy prongs drove through the woman's throat. Her blood was inky and black, and the touch of it was as cold as the ice around her. The fire around the red string flickered and disappeared; soon, the wintry scene did as well, dissolving back to the church. The youma was gone, too--a small painting of was the only remnant of her body.

Fubuki's transformation abruptly dissolved and she whimpered as she breathed.

Her mother still stood next to her, where the ring of fire had formed; her eyes were blank, and she looked as though she were dreaming. Without saying another word, she turned away from Fubuki and began to walk away.

Let her go home, Fubuki thought. Let her stop talking again, and lock herself away. Then I won't have to fucking deal with her.

The few church members who had stayed behind shook their heads abruptly, as though they were coming out of a trance. One of them ran urgently toward her as another one pulled out a phone.

"Are you alive?" one of them asked her. "Please, Great Serenity, guide and watch over her..."

"Fuck....off..." Fubuki managed to whimper.

The man stayed anyway, but he stopped praying.

"The avatar of violence is our savior," he muttered. "A Moon Senshi has saved us all."

"Eros, Eros, Eros." Coeus walked nonchalantly into his room, grinning complacently as he watched the youma's death, crystal clear in the surface of Eros' mirror. "It looks like Sailor Miranda has left Pureh rather speechless."

Eros looked on, spinning a rose nonchalantly between his thumb and forefinger.

"You know that isn't the point, Coeus," he said with a sigh. "Judging from what she harvested, I'd say the mission was really a success."

Coeus walked over to the granite table. It was literally covered in miniature portraits; he picked one up and examined it apathetically.

"We'll just hope you don't run out of dead girlfriends, Eros," he said blandly, "and then everything will be fine."

"Get out of my sight," he murmured, dropping the rose and glaring at Coeus. "Get out of here."

Coeus grinned. "Don't hurt yourself, Eros," he said, turning around and heading toward the door. "We wouldn't want your heart getting broken again."

Kouken's feet tapped lightly against the walk as he approached Tokimo. Her back was turned away from him as she stood diligently in front of Seisui's home; Tokimo was clutching something in her hands protectively.

"Hey, Tokimo," he called to her. "What's up? You're here early. Where's Seisui?"

Tokimo turned around and looked at him nervously. She was clutching a black bunny plushie in her hands protectively, as though she were afraid it would squirm out of her arms and hop away.

"Well..." she began, "it's kinda a long story."

"Why, what happened?"

"Err...a Youma attacked."

"What?!" Kouken stuttered. "When? How? Who sent it?"

"It was at school," Tokimo explained. "There was a freaky woman, and she attacked us with a red string. She killed a teacher, but Usako revived them. We still don't know where the monster came from, or even why she was attacking."

Kouken paused, a troubled expression crossing his face. "Is everyone okay?"

"Uh-huh," Tokimo nodded. "Fubuki killed it with her attack. Seisui and I were okay. Oh! I found out something else, too."

"Hm?" he looked up at her quizically.

"Erik is the Crimson Eagle," she told him excitedly. "The youma took away the Crimson Eagle, and when we rescued him, he was Erik. And there's this odd girl named Kazeko, and she could feel the Youma. She even told us how to save the Crimson Eagle, and she called the youma 'fomorii'--"

"Hold on Tokimo!" Kouken interrupted her. "That's a lot to take in at once. So you're sure about Erik?"

Tokimo nodded vigorously. "Yes. But he acted like he didn't know. I think he was just in denial."

"And who is this Kazeko?"

"She's weird," Tokimo explained. "Before we found out about Erik, the Youma teleported the Crimson Eagle away. We didn't know where, but Kazeko told us it was in some kind of negative space...thing. She told us we could use positive energy to neutralize it, so Helios used his priesty powers and made them both come back. That was how we knew about Erik--he teleported away as the Crimson Eagle, but when he came back, he was Erik."

"She could be a Sailor Senshi..." Kouken mused. "Bring me to school next time, okay? Next time a Youma attacks, I'd like to be there."

"Yeah," Tokimo agreed. "Sure."

A few moments of silence passed; Tokimo's face looked uneasy. She continued clutching the bunny protectively, and her eyes strayed to the ground, following the mindless, industrial work of an anthill.

"Where's Seisui, Tokimo?" Kouken asked uneasily.

"We got in a little fight," Tokimo told him. "But I'm sure it'll be okay...I mean, me and Seisui have gone through all this time as good friends, so I don't see why that should stop now. Sometimes friends get in fights, right?"

"That's certainly true," Kouken said, though he couldn't help feeling that Tokimo wasn't entirely confident. "What happened?"

"Well...the youma killed a woman...so we had to revive her, right?"

Kouken nodded.

"But only Sailor Pinkmoon can revive people...right?"

Kouken felt a chill down his spine as he realized where the conversation was headed. He nodded.

"But Seisui wanted to kill Sailor Pinkmoon. I didn't want to, because you know, then innocent people will die!" Tokimo explained fervently. "But Seisui...Seisui said that Sailor Moon was the bigger threat. That her father was innocent, and he wasn't alive, not really anyway, and I thought Seisui was being selfish, but..."

"Tokimo..." Kouken said sadly. "You and Seisui are very different people. But you're all that Seisui has...so I don't think that you can fight for long."

For both their sakes, he hoped they wouldn't.

"Hey, Kazeko! Wait!" Seisui watched her run away; she thought about following her. Better to wait, she decided; Kazeko was afraid of something. There was certainly a strong possibility that she was a Moon Senshi.... What was it that made her so anxious to avoid the possibility?

Oh well. She'd have to talk to her later, Seisui mused. For now, there was nothing to do but head home.

Home.

If she headed home, Tokimo would be there.

"The youma could kill many more people than the queen purified," Charon argued. "Seisui, think about this! Are you willing to kill Usako at the expense of the lives of people who aren't even involved?"

Think about this!

Seisui cringed. Clenched her fist.

"We just can't let innocent people get killed. It's not right!"

"We can't, Titan. We can't."

"We can't."

"It's no good..." Seisui murmured, walking away from the statues. She made her way along the sidewalk and toward her district, leaning a hand on the walls lining the streets. Support for weak knees.

Her support...

"I'll still be your friend, no matter what!"

We're not going to give up, are we, Tokimo?

"No! We aren't! We're just...backing off. For a while."

God dammit! That is giving up, isn't it? It's just a nice way of putting it, isn't it? First we just back off for a while, and then Tokimo and Chibi-Usa become friends...

"We'll kill Sailor Pinkmoon before the week is out. Where's all that 'we're gonna beat up the bad guy' spunk?, Huh, huh?"

We're going to beat up the bad guy...

"Prodosia."

Seisui stopped dead in her tracks. There was only one person that called her that.

"Prodosia..."

The street melted around her. She was standing on a small cobblestone island, floating in a sea of black water.

Black Water...

"Prodosia, it's me."

A swirling mass of black, inky ooze contorted and formed out of the sea into a familiar shape. The shape of the man with a halberd, Black Water, who had tried to save her so many times.

"You have not forgotten, have you...?" he said gently, looking at her with kind eyes.

"No..." She murmured. "No."

"Prodosia...do not let yourself be deceived," he said. "Tokimo is not the friend you thought she was."

Seisui looked down at the murky pool beneath her. "Tokimo and me...are just having a bit of a disagreement. She'll come around..."

"You thought of it yourself, Prodosia...to Tokimo, it was never about helping you. It was about being a hero...beating up the 'bad guy.' You gave her what she wanted, Prodosia, a chance to play that hero. To defeat the evil Chibi-Usa. And she was willing to be your friend to that end, as well. But now the tables are turned."

"What do you mean...?" Seisui murmured. "The tables are turned?"

"Do not let yourself be used again, Prodosia. Tokimo believed that she was fighting on the hero's side, so that was the side she chose. Now that the lives of innocents are at stake, she's decided that you are not the hero anymore."

"Tokimo isn't that petty!" Seisui protested. "Tokimo was loyal to me. She was with me because she was my friend..."

"Tokimo was your friend because you looked like a hero, a brave girl against impossible odds. But now, she has someone else to play hero with, a hero that will give her more respect. And now that she has that, she isn't going to let anything get in her way, the same way she didn't let anything get in her way when she was on your side. Now that she's on the other side, nothing will stop her from 'saving innocents' and 'beating up bad guys.' Not you. And if you get in the way, she'll think in the same way she thought of everyone else when you were the hero."

"A villain," Seisui whimpered. "I'll just be a villain."

"Tokimo wasn't using you," Black Water told her. "She's too simple for that. But when something came in the way, Tokimo went with the hero's path, not the path of friendship. And you weren't on the path of a hero. Not the way she saw it, anyway."

"But my path is the hero's path!" Seisui protested. "And Tokimo knows that. She just isn't thinking in the long term. Tokimo is bad at that. She's just thinking about one person's life...I'm sure if I remind her, she'll remember, she'll realize..."

"You'll just let yourself get hurt, Prodosia. Don't listen to Tokimo. She's doesn't really care about you," he said sadly.

"How do I know you're not just saying that, trying to get me to give up? What if you're with Nemesis?" she cried, looking angrily toward him.

Black Water frowned mournfully, his face full of betrayal. Seisui paused. No...that couldn't be it.

"I suppose you have no proof," he said sadly. "And I can understand why you would think that. But I do not tell you this to make you falter or to needlessly sever your friendship. I have watched you suffer all these years. I was there the day you found out what fate befell your father. I have seen friends abuse you in your youth. I watched as bullies punched you, and as you were captured. I saw you when you walked on Nemesis, when the deathly silence and loneliness pierced deep into your heart."

Black Water spoke the truth.

"Tokimo will never allow the deaths of innocent people--even if she is saving people in the long run or righting an injustice. And the only way you can reconcile yourself with her is to forget about your father, your vengeance, and the crimes upon you. And no matter how unbearably the memories of your father weigh upon you, no matter how awful pushing away Tokimo is, telling yourself to forget it, to put aside the suffering you endured and join with the people who wronged you--that will be unbearably more painful."

"We don't know that Tokimo won't change her mind," Seisui murmured."She's my friend, after all."

Black Water hugged her affectionately. Seisui could see his legs, then his torso begin to spiral into the surrounding landscape. She could feel sobs racking her lungs as the dream scape began to disappear.

"I pray that you are right, Prodosia. But even if Tokimo should betray you, I will always stand beside you."

He disappeared, along with the landscape he had created. Seisui took a deep breath and wiped away her tears.

She knew that Tokimo would be at her house when she arrived. All she could do was face her, and hope that Black Water was wrong.

When Seisui arrived, time froze for a moment. They wouldn't look at each other. They were afraid to speak. Kouken had gone inside long ago, feeling that this was a conversation he was better left out of.

"Remember the bunny plushie you said you liked, way back when?" Tokimo held out the stuffed animal. "I got it for you. Takes back memories, right?"

Seisui smiled half-heartedly and took the plushie. "Yeah. That wasn't so long ago, but we've come a long way since then."

"I'm sorry about earlier," Tokimo managed to say. "I just don't want innocent people to die."

"I know you don't," Seisui said flatly.

"So let's just hold off killing Usako. Just for now, right? We can do it later. I promise!"

"How do you know there'll be a later, Tokimo?" Seisui murmured. "Chaos will keep coming back. Everyone knows that. And if that happens, innocent people will die."

Tokimo faltered.

"If you ask me," Seisui continued, "the reason that Chaos keeps coming back is because Sailor Moon exists. So if we killed her, we wouldn't have to worry about innocent people dying, because Chaos wouldn't be around to harm anyone. Whatever the Queen may say to the contrary, there are already deaths of murder and violence--why do we need Chaos to add onto that pile?"

"But...Nemesis is different than Chaos," Tokimo said.

"There's no reason to believe that," Seisui replied. "Quite the opposite. Every enemy before has been Chaos. Why should now be any different?"

"But that woman was going to die if Pinkmoon didn't save her!" Tokimo shouted. "You don't want someone to die, do you?"

"Yes, I do," Seisui snapped. "I do want someone to die. I want Sailor Moon to die, I want her daughter to die, I want the people that ruined my life to die, so that they can't ruin anyone else's'!"

"But Sailor Pinkmoon knows that purification is wrong!" Tokimo cried.

"Sure she does, Tokimo! Naturally, of course. But what about her daughter, Tokimo? We all know who that's going to be. And while she might not purify, I'm sure she'll be very gung-ho about the next best thing!"

"We'll kill her daughter. We'll make sure the line stops!" Tokimo said desperately.

"You know what won't work," Seisui replied. "We both know how Usako will feel about that. How can you expect her to kill her own daughter and accept it? It's hard enough to get anyone to do it--getting Usako to do it would be fruitless! You and I both agreed that she would make some ridiculous argument, like 'I can raise it out of her' or 'there's a little good in everyone.' Just look at how she insisted that I was her friend, even when I made it very clear that I felt otherwise!"

"But..." Tokimo paused. "I won't want good people to die. Only bad ones. We could just kill Usako's child anyway...after all, that's what we were planning with Usako."

"Besides, it's not like the royal family is a bunch of saints," Seisui reminded her. "And Usako is no exception. I thought you knew that. What about my father, huh? Do you doubt she would have done any differently than the rest of them?"

"I know about your father, Seisui! But that isn't going to happen anymore."

"How do you know, Tokimo?" she shouted. "They say that now, but what's to stop them if they change their minds?"

"I don't know," Tokimo admitted. "But--"

"That's right, Tokimo," Seisui interrupted. "You don't know. And you know what? I don't want to find out. I had to lose the most important thing in the world because they screwed up. And if they screw up again, there's going to be another person who suffered just like I did. I'd rather die than see that happen--and I think my actions have shown that pretty well. What about you, Tokimo?"

Tokimo clenched her fist. "People are going to die, Seisui. Don't you care?"

"I do care," she retorted. "That's why I want to get rid of Usako."

"It's not that simple!"

"No, it isn't, but someone's got to do it!" Seisui said, tears forming in her eyes. "Someone has to. Or else there will just be more and more tragedies! And I don't want anyone else to feel as lonely, miserable and pathetic as I do!"

"But Seisui, you're not--"

"Yes, I am, Tokimo," Seisui sobbed. "I am. It was never about being my friend. You just wanted to play hero. And you found someone else who could give you that, only better. What good am I anymore?"

"Seisui, that's not true!"

"Think what you like, Tokimo," Seisui murmured, tears streaming down her eyes. "But there's no way things can be the same anymore. Just leave me to my misery."

"Seisui, I can't--"

"GO!" She finally shouted. "I can't face you now! Just go," she sobbed, turning around and heading inside.

Tokimo stood there for a long while.

Then she bit her lip and walked away.

"Your holiness, I have a request to make of you."

The man knelt down respectfully as he dipped his head toward the ground. Oily turquoise curls encircled his face. One hand rested on his tunic, a pale sea green.

"What is it, Oceanus?" she said. Already he could sense her growing ennui. Since she had awakened from the statue, she had hardly moved from that chair. The rest of them had bolted for their mirrors, anxious to travel to Earth, which still had life and vigor. Nemesis seemed to relish in her self-constructed wasteland--a maze of Gothic pillars, dim stained glass windows and bizarre, gargoyle topped buttresses.

Little surprise there; she was, after all, the guardian of Nemesis.

"You know of Seisui Han'i, yes? She is the guardian of Titan. The one that awoke the palace."

"What about her, Oceanus? You're stationed in western Europe, remember? That's one of my most important fronts. There's quite a ruckus in Germany, you know. The Senshi can hardly keep their hands off each other's throats."

"Naturally, your holiness. I have worked quite hard to further conflict there. But if you don't mind my suggesting, Seisui's mental condition is extremely fragile."

"You're suggesting I drop a hint to Eros?" she asked, bemused.

"Actually, your holiness, I was considering the prospect of conversion. If Black Water is any indication, she is most easily manipulated."

Nemesis paused for a moment, drumming her fingers on her chair. Oceanus could feel a droplet of sweat forming on his forehead as she scrutinized him incredulously.

"Don't underestimate the guardian of Titan," she snapped. "Prodosia, whether she realizes it consciously or not, has known Black Water since she could walk. She knows that his concern is genuine. If we go to her, she'll know better. She's interested in revenge, not destruction."

"We could go to her in the guise of Black Water," he argued. "Convince her it wasn't worth going on. She's weak-willed, and easily swayed."

Oceanus gasped as a stinging sensation spread throughout his cheeks. He felt breathless and weak.

"First, Oceanus, Seisui is not your charge. She, along with the rest of Tokyo, is Eros' front. You are responsible for taking care of problems in Europe, which, I will remind you, is considerably west of Japan. The Senshi who dwell there have at least as many emotional problems as Seisui."

She paused. Her words hung like smoke in the air.

"Secondly, Seisui and Black Water have a powerful bond. If Seisui herself didn't detect the imposter, Black Water would, and I can assure you that such an apparition would be short-lived. Moreover, Seisui, though she is miserable, has a will that puts the lot of you to shame. Her purpose is simple: Destroy the queen and her heir. She might be willing to go to great lengths for such a goal, but taking the rest of the world with her is not one of them. I would expect you to realize this, gawking away at her in your mirror as you no doubt have done."

"Forgive me, your holiness," he murmured, his voice unfailingly servile.

"Out of my sight, Oceanus," she commanded. "I expected a keener form of ambition from you."

With that, he disappeared in a splash of water, leaving his queen to contemplate.

Sayoko had been perfectly content; she was spending a lovely spring afternoon with her ass planted on the couch, watching angst-filled, sweaty man Yaoi--until, of course, Yamiko barged in with a spatula in one hand, a death glare on her face and a cry of 'stop watching that smut and go get some groceries, Sayoko!'

However, despite Sayoko's clever comeback of 'You just want to watch it when I'm not around', Yamiko would not listen to reason. That, and Sayoko wanted supper tonight. And not instant curry--which, if she were doing the cooking, it would inevitably be.

So now she was at the grocery store, perusing the many aisles of dead, slaughtered animals and cruelly butchered vegetables. And, of course, spying for any hot guys that might come along. She was having good luck from the look of things, too. Right over in the veggy section, there was a very, very hot Adonis with with blonde hair and a black trench coat.

Hey, wait a second...

Sayoko walked up to the young man and jabbed her index finger into his back. He started a bit.

"Hey, Kane," she said with a grin. "Making friends with your fruits and veggies?"

Kane glanced behind him and smiled, evidently recognizing her. "No, they're making friends with me," he replied jokingly. "Yamiko's sister, right? Err...what was your name? I never forget a face, but I can't say the same for the name that goes with it."

Sayoko shrugged. "No biggie. Sayoko's the name, but you can call me Sayo. So how's it going? Made any leeway on winding down the angst-muffin?"

"Barely," he replied weakly. "I'm afraid our last chance meeting left Yamiko feeling quite put out."

"That would explain her bad attitude," Sayoko said with a wink. "Don't worry about it. Yamiko hasn't warmed up to anyone in all the years I've known her, except for maybe me. You've got quite a challenge ahead of you."

"Any suggestions?"

"Just be patient, really. And be thoughtful. I don't think Yamiko is really used to having anyone who thinks of her..." Sayoko sighed. "Even I left her to go to college. I had an obligation, but I still feel bad. I left her all alone at high school, and she's such a social wreck...I think she got picked on."

"They were probably just jealous," Kane said, picking out his vegetables. "Yamiko is very much the mysterious beauty."

"She has her own gothic-style charm," Sayoko agreed. Kane finished up his selections and moved on; Sayoko followed closely behind him, picking up the occasional box of spaghetti or appropriate seasoning. Tonight was Italian night. "And I really think she just wants to do the right thing. Problem is, she doesn't know what the right thing is. That, and she has strong sense of self-preservation."

"I get the feeling she had a hard time growing up," he said.

"Yeah. Ever since the 'rents passed away. That was right before high school. I was already in college by then, and right after they died, she was living in that huge mansion of ours all alone. So I boarded up the place for awhile and we got an apartment. Too many bad memories in a big house like that."

"A mansion, huh? I'm surprised. I didn't know Yamiko was well-to-do. I guess she tries not to be loud about it."

"Understandably. I'm not sure on the details, but she got a lot of abuse for being rich, especially after the 'rents died. Some of the meaner kids even accused us of murder."

"Murder?" Kane balked. "That seems a bit far!"

"Me and Yamiko didn't get along with our parents very well," Sayoko explained, cringing a bit. "I was the black sheep, and she was the golden child. Not that that made her any happier--that just meant expectations were higher for her, and if she failed, she got a lot of flak for it. Yamiko was into the whole goth scene long before her parents died, and, well...like I said, she's a gothic beauty, and there's something that's a bit mysterious and a more than a little creepy about the classic goth--and even as old as Junior High, the rumors can be cruel."

"Does that still go on?" Kane asked. "If you don't mind my asking, of course."

"No, I don't think so. Yamiko was going to private school while all of this happened. After she finished Junior High, she wanted to go to public school--I'm sure it was to escape the bullying. No one's bothered her since that, but I think she's still scared to death of getting to know anyone."

Kane nodded. "But it seems strange that Yamiko was so depressed about her parents, if they didn't get along. I'm not sure if I'd been too sorry if my parents kicked the bucket..."

Sayoko sighed. "It's sort of hard to explain," she said wearily. "Sometimes you go through life selfishly, and you take things for granted. It took a nasty price tag for Yamiko to realize how much mom and dad really loved her, even if they put her under too much pressure. And I think that if mom and dad had realized what was coming, they would have backed off. Too late to bother thinking about that now, though."

Kane paused for a moment. "You have a point, Sayoko. Thank you for sharing this with me. I realize it's intensely personal."

"Bah," Sayoko smiled, waving her hand. "It was nice to talk to you. I think that you could really reach out to Yamiko. She really needs someone right now." Sayoko paused, looking at the sparkling tiled floor. "To tell you the truth...I really think Yamiko is at the end of her rope. I try my best, but she needs someone besides me." Sayoko looked up at Kane. "I can tell you have a good heart, Kane, and I trust you. Please help my sister."

"Of course," Kane said gently. "I'll do my best." Kane reached into his pocket, as though he were reaching for something. "I--"

Kane paused. He looked nervous.

"Is something wrong?" Sayoko asked.

"No..." he murmured. "I just remembered that I forgot one of my bags at school. The one with my credit card," he admitted a bit bashfully. "But before I dart off like a madman, I want you to give this to Yamiko."

Kane pulled out a white piece of paper. It was an invitation--'You are Cordially Invited to the Serenity Fund Benefit Ball,' followed by the date and times--tomorrow at seven, to be exact. Sayoko raised her eyebrows. Looked high-class. "You're inviting Yamiko to this? Where did you get it?"

"My parents," he said with a smile. "I don't live with them anymore, but sometimes they still have to present me. Everyone knows they have an heir, and it would look weird if I didn't come."

Sayoko nodded in understanding. "I'll let her know. Are you going to pick her up?"

Kane nodded. "Yes. I'll be a bit early, though." He paused. "Do you have her measurements? I know Yamiko likes fashion, and I thought, if anything were a good present for her..."

Sayoko whistled. "A fancy dress, eh? Well, Yamiko's got plenty of money to blow on nice dresses, but I'm sure you'll whip up something extra special. Here," she said, pulling out a piece of paper and writing down Yamiko's three measurements.

Kane nodded. "I'll certainly try my best. Anyway, I better go. See you later, Sayoko."

Sayoko nodded. "Likewise."

With that, Kane bolted off on his way.