Medoc, are you here? I've been sleepwalking again, my dear. The plants are moving under the rug. It's the inhuman monsters that I fear. Stephen King, _The Shining_ Doubleday, 1977. _______________________________________________________________________ Kinmokusei Story Chapter Three: "Good Stuff" by Kotetsu _______________________________________________________________________ The hours passed. The palace panicked. The guards sealed off the military barracks. Residents within the palace began carrying around wooden stakes and garlic cloves. The press cornered the Knights and the guards, demanding information. The news reports stunned the entire planet. A murder, and a monster. Within the royal palace?! It was too incredible for many to believe. The Sol Report subcommittee decided to postpone the rest of the hearings until further notice. The Sailor Senshi, they noted in their formal announcement to the Queen, needed to focus their time and energy elsewhere. Not three hours after the discovery of the soldier's body, Sailor Star Healer awoke in a hospital bed, dazed and confused and thoroughly angry with herself. Seiya and Taiki were sitting beside her bed, identical expressions of anxious worry on their faces. Healer blinked at them, slowly coming back to her waking senses. "Where . . . ?" "The infirmary wing," Taiki said quickly, answering Healer's half-formed, groggy question. "Twenty hundred hours. You've been out for a good one hundred eighty minutes." "Don't remind me." Healer squeezed her eyes shut, briefly. How horribly embarrassing, to have fainted away like a weak, stupid ninny in front of all of the Knights! She would have to teach herself better self-discipline than that. Healer opened her eyes again, staring at her friends. "How's Kakyuu?" "Fine. Handling the reporters right now, but fine. She sent us to watch over you." "I have . . . a confession to make." With a thought and a whisper of wind, Healer's fuku melted away, leaving only Kou Yaten - small, weak, frail, and fighting to hide her growing sense of terror - lying in the hospital bed. She struggled, pushing herself until she was sitting fully upright. "I knew that all of this was going to happen." Taiki's eyes widened with shock, but Seiya's jaw dropped nearly to the floor. "WHAT?!" "I mean, I sort of knew. In a way." Yaten sighed, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, fighting off a rising headache. "It's hard to explain." "Tough. You owe us an explanation," Taiki said coldly. "I'm trying to explain! Listen to me. I've been having these dreams . . . for, like, about two months. I think. The same dream, every night. That soldier came to me. You know, the dead guy we saw. He came to me, only in my dreams, even two months ago, he was still dead. So I was talking to this dead guy every night, okay? He told me that I needed to prevent his death, or else there would be . . . horrible consequences. He never said what specifically, but horrible consequences. He said . . . Well, we were always standing in the palace gardens, and he said . . . He said that we were standing in the Garden of the Dead. I have no idea what that means, but it frightens me nevertheless. And then, when I woke up every morning, just like that," Yaten snapped her fingers, "poof! I had absolutely no memory of the dream ever taking place. I only remembered, today, when I actually saw his body lying there. It was as if . . . all of a sudden, the moment that I saw him . . . All of the memories came flooding back, all at once. It was horrible; it was like reliving the same nightmare over and over again, five or six dozen times over, in the space of a few seconds. I guess . . . that must have been when I passed out." She buried her head in her hands and moaned. "How embarrassing. I'm *never* going to live this down." Taiki reached out, and gently placed her hand on Yaten's small, slight shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? In twenty years, you're going to look back at this and laugh. Understand?" "Laugh?!" Yaten lowered her hands and stared at Taiki, incredously. "Heck, *I* almost laughed when it actually happened," Seiya confessed. "The moment I saw you go down, I thought, 'There she goes again, upstaging everybody, even the murder victim.' It took every ounce of my willpower not to start laughing at you." Yaten glared. "Am I supposed to take this as a comforting thought?" "Yes." "Thanks, but no thanks." Then, her eyes widened with a sudden realization. "Oh, Mother Maresuu. Taiki, Seiya, somebody get me a telephone!" "Huh?" "What?" "Get me a telephone!" "Planetary or Subspace telephone?" "It doesn't matter! Just get me one!" "Why wouldn't it matter?" "Don't question me! Just do it!" As one, Taiki and Seiya stepped away from the bed. "She's cracked," Taiki whispered. "Uh-huh. Loony." "She lost it." "She's gone bonkers." "HEY! I CAN HEAR THAT!" Yaten snapped. "Right, right, right!" Taiki held up her hands, and grinned sheepishly. "I'll be right back. Seiya, watch her." "Are you sure I should be alone in a room with--?" Taiki was halfway out the door before Seiya could finish her protest. "Bye-bye!" she waved. She returned not less than five minutes later, cradling a normal planetary telephone in her hands, the long trail of the wire dangling below the phone, ending in the tiny plastic jack that bounced along the tiled hospital floors as Taiki entered. "You know, I don't think there's any place in this room to plug this thing in--" "It doesn't have to be plugged in," Yaten explained impatiently as she reached greedily for the phone. "Give to me!" "Yaten, what are you--?" Yaten grabbed the phone and set it down in her lap. With the unplugged wire still dangling over the edge of her bed, Yaten picked up the receiver, cradled it against her ear, and began dialing with her free hand. "Absolutely, positively loony," Seiya observed with mild fascination. "Maybe she bumped her head when she fainted," Taiki suggested hopefully. "Keep it down," Yaten scolded her. "I'm on the phone." She finished dialing, and listened patiently to the earpiece. And, after a moment: "Moshi moshi? Minako-chan?" Taiki rubbed her eyes with her fists. "I'm hallucinating." Seiya just stared. Ignoring them both, Yaten continued speaking into the unplugged phone. "Hai, Yaten desu. Listen, I've got some bad news. We seem to have run into a spot of trouble within the palace." Yaten paused, listening. Then, she continued speaking. "Oh, no, it's nothing that we can't handle ourselves. It's just that--" "Yaten, what are you DOING?!" Seiya suddenly interrupted her. "That phone isn't even PLUGGED IN! It's not even a SUBSPACE phone! MINAKO doesn't have a Subspace phone, so how can you--?" "Excuse me a moment," Yaten said, lowering the receiver away from her face. Then she glared at Seiya, coldly. "The telephone," she explained slowly, "is a METAPHOR. Duh." "WHAT?!" " 'The telephone is a metaphor,' " Taiki mocked her, rolling her eyes. "Oh, sure, THAT explains everything." "I need the phone to provide a physical metaphor," Yaten continued, "or else it becomes too complicated for me to handle." "What are you talking about?!" "Long-distance telepathy, of course." "You can *not*." "Can too. I am right now." Seiya slapped her forehead. "I should have known!" Taiki shook her head, sighing. "Unbelievable. Yaten, you're amazing. Insane, but amazing." "Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to finish." She brought the receiver back up to her face. "Sorry about that, Minako-chan, but Seiya and Taiki were being annoying pests." And, with that, Yaten proceeded to tell Minako everything. Everything about the youma battle, about the dead soldier, about the possibility of a vampyre, about the dreams. She left out her fainting spell, though. She concluded by asking politely, "So, do you have *any* idea how one of your kanji ended up on the back of a youma inside of our royal palace?" Yaten paused, listening to Minako speak. Her brow furrowed with concentration. "Silver Millennium? What's that?" "Silver Millennium?" Seiya mouthed silently to Taiki. Taiki shrugged. "No clue," she mouthed back. Yaten frowned, listening some more. "Hold on a second," she said, lowering the receiver away from her head again. She turned toward Taiki and Seiya. "You know what? We were wrong about Earth all along. They're not a pre-Subspace society. They're a POST-Subspace society." "Come again?" "According to Minako-chan, thousands of years ago, the Sol system was colonized by people who had achieved spaceflight technology. Only that civilization collapsed and destroyed itself in a terrible war, and only the citizens of Earth survived." "Wait," Seiya said, holding out her hand. "We didn't learn about that in Juuban High School." Taiki shook her head. "I didn't read about *that* in ANY of the textbooks or encyclopedias that I read on Earth. And I read a lot." Yaten spoke into the receiver again. "Minako-chan, why didn't anybody mention this earlier?" She paused, listening. Then she sighed. "Oh, of course. How convenient." She turned toward Taiki and Seiya again. "It was so long ago, that only the Sailor Senshi can remember it." "How unfortunate," Taiki mused. "Did these ancients ever manage to colonize any planets outside of the Sol System?" Yaten asked Minako; and waited, listening to the response. Then accordingly, she reported the answer. "Minako doesn't know. She says the memories are foggy." "If they did, that might explain a lot," Taiki pondered. Yaten, ignoring her, was already talking back into the mouthpiece. "No, no, no, Minako-chan! I can't let you come back before we get to the bottom of this. It's just too dangerous, understand? . . . What? . . . . . . . No, that's not the way it works. Don't yell at me like that, it's just the truth, that's all. You can't help us. This is OUR fight. Don't worry, we'll be fine. I promise I'll keep you posted, all right? . . . . . . Yes. I know . . . . . . . Uh-huh. Me too. Tell Artemis that I said hello. Ja . . . Ja, matta ne." Yaten hung up the phone. She closed her eyes, and sighed. Seiya stood up, and stretched. "Well, Taiki and I should probably get going. We should at least say something to the press. And the Sol Report subcommittee wants us to try and testify again in two days." "Hey!" Yaten's eyes flew all the way open. "You're not going to leave me alone in the *hospital*, are you?!" "Yes." Taiki was standing up, too. "As long as we know that you're in perfect health. They should let you out in a few minutes anyway. By the way, what exactly should we call this spectacular new talent of yours, anyway? Clairvoyant hindsight?!" Taiki and Seiya giggled in unison. Yaten pouted, grumpily. "That's not funny." "Yes it is!" "Oh, fine." And despite herself, Yaten struggled to suppress a chuckle that rose suddenly in her throat. It *was* pretty funny, in a morbid, dark, depressing way. So she was a failure as a clairvoyant. So what? She had more important issues to focus on, anyway. If there really was a vampyre at large in the royal palace, they would have to find it and eliminate it. As quickly as possible. The work of a Sailor Senshi was *never* done. ******************** Reynard's feast had left him with enough energy to coast along easily over the next three days. Casting a simple Notice-Me-Not spell around himself, disguised as a janitor, and shielding himself from any resident empaths or psi that might try to detect his presence, Reynard accomplished the rest of his first mission with surprising ease. He shook a few hands here, patted a few shoulders there, "accidentally" bumped into one or two people . . . and each time that he made contact with another human being, he gently inserted another type B youma egg into their body. The eggs slid easily through both clothing and skin, and burrowed deep into the flesh of their victims, where they waited, dormant and weak, and undetectable by any physical, magical, or psi senses. On the second day of Reynard's stay, after the final testimonies of the last two Sailor Senshi, the Assembly finally published and released the Sol Report. The Sol Report, being a document of terrible historical and social importance, was distributed widely not just among the planet of Kinmoku, but among the entire galaxy as well. Like the rest of the galaxy, Reynard was curious about the three Sailor Senshi from Kinmoku, although for very, VERY different reasons than anybody else was. He even paid a few precious credits for his own copy of the report, and flipped through it quickly and eagerly. He was disappointed when it turned out to be more boring and trivial than he had anticipated. Sailor Galaxia threatens the Earth, the brave and noble Sailor Senshi sacrifice themselves, blah blah blah blah blah, and in the end of it all, the power of Luv saves the day. Awwww, how gag-inducing. Reynard, always proud to call himself One Sick Bastard, had nearly retched when he read the concluding paragraphs of the report. During the three days that he snuck around the palace and spread his type B youma eggs, Reynard had occasionally had the opportunity to glimpse the Sailor Senshi from afar. That, and he had spent more than just a few hours at night watching them in his mirror, carefully studying their habits, their mannerisms, their actions and their words. They were cute, he had to admit. Like kittens, only slightly more dangerous. It was funny, the way that they pondered and discussed his murder of the soldier. Reynard would have liked very much to entertain himself by having some Wrong Fun with them. Wrong Fun was a particular specialty of his . . . But his Master had been very clear to him to stay away from the Senshi, and to leave them alone, during this first stage of the plan. Release a type A youma only if necessary, and Reynard had already done that. Now, his orders were to stay off the Senshi's radar, which he was doing quite well, anyway. Besides, Reynard could be patient. In future stages of the Master's plan, there might be more opportunities for some Wrong Fun with the three ladies. And that would be something that Reynard would eagerly wait for. On the second day, shortly after the Sol Report was published, Reynard's colleague Delilah contacted him. Reynard was busy scrubbing the floors of the deserted military barracks with his mop and bucket when his very favorite special mirror suddenly materialized in front of him. He was only mildly surprised to see Delilah's beautiful face forming in smoky wisps behind the surface of the mirror. Damn, he hated it when she did that - when she took control of his possessions like that. But Reynard let Delilah have access to his mirror, because she liked to fancy that he was her own special high priest or something, and he rather enjoyed playing along with her fun little games. "Reynard!" Delilah greeted him. "How goes the project?" "Well, my Lady. I am almost finished with the first stage. I should return to you and the Master sometime tomorrow." "Mmm, mmm, so." Delilah nodded, pondering. Her eyes had a faraway look, almost glazed. "Is Kinmoku really as beautiful as they say it is?" "Yes, even more so. I will show it to you in this mirror when I return." "But I wish to see it now." "I cannot; the mirror would be noticed by the palace personnel." Delilah sighed. "Very well. I suppose I will have enough time to look at everything once I am Queen, after all." With that, she winked away, and so did the mirror. Reynard bit his lower lip with consternation. Foolish madwoman. In order to insure her cooperation with the project, the Master had promised to hand her the royal throne once they succeeded in taking over the planet. Delilah was greedy and vain enough, and had agreed to the proposition. Which meant that Reynard had to deal with her as a co-worker. It was annoying at times, but overall, not bad. Delilah may be a witch, and she may be an absolute lunatic, an utterly hopeless madwoman, but . . . Reynard had dealt with worse in his life. Subjectively, Delilah wasn't half bad. Thus, three days passed. And once Reynard's initial supply of type B youma eggs was used up, he simply snuck back down to the basement levels of the palace in the middle of the night, and quietly teleported back into his Master's dimension. The crossing back was much easier than the first crossing had been, and although the explosive teleportation created a mild shockwave of energy that swept throughout the palace, the Queen and all of the Sailor Senshi were fast asleep in their beds, and nobody felt a thing. ******************** On the fourth day after the attack, Seiya had a visitor in her home. She opened her door in response to three sharp knocks, and was surprised to find the young Knight, Belinda, standing there shyly. Belinda grinned at Seiya, but blushed, slightly. She was holding a large bouquet of flowers in her arms. "Um, hi." "Hello . . . ?" Belinda suddenly thrust the flowers forward into Seiya's arms. "These are for you!" "What for?" "For saving my life, silly. And for saving Felina." She quickly stepped forward and kissed a very surprised Seiya on the cheek. "Thank you. This is because I need to say thank you." Then she stepped back, and raised puppy-dog eyes toward Seiya's face, waiting expectantly for something. "Um . . . " Seiya willed the momentarily stalled gears in her brain to start working again. Thankfully, they did. "Would you like to come in for a moment?" "Of course!" Belinda practically skipped right past Seiya and into her apartment. "Niiiiice place you've got here. Is this how the government looks out for our Sailor Senshi?" "Uh . . . yeah." Belinda winked at her conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I was just teasing. I mean, it's tax money and all, but us Knights get pretty nice royal apartments too. It's a perk of being a slave to the Crown, and to the entire planet, I guess." She flopped herself down onto the couch. "So, like, any luck catching our killer?" "No . . . " Seiya finally forced her feet to start moving again, and she stepped away from the door, wondering where she would find a suitable vase to put the flowers in. "Not even Yaten can detect a trace of any undead creatures or vampyre." "Hey, Miss Seiya?" "Just Seiya, please." "Just Seiya." Belinda giggled. Then she pointed across the room, at something that she apparently found very comical. "WHERE did you ever get a crazy-looking guitar like THAT?!" "Oh, that?" Dumping the flowers unceremoniously on the ground, Seiya hopped over to her treasure, leaning against the far wall of the living room. "It's a guitar from Earth. I brought it back with me." "Earth, huh?" Belinda stretched her arms out above her head. "I read the Sol Report. Everything that you went through sounded just awful. I'm really sorry." "Thanks," Seiya smiled wanly. she added mentally. The one thing that they had managed to keep out of the Sol Report was the fact that her heart had been broken. It still was broken, in fact. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Seiya didn't want to think about it, so she tried to change the subject. "So, uh, how's Felina doing?" "Fine. She's shaken, but fine. Say, do you like dirtball?" "Are you kidding?! I LOVE dirtball!" "Some of the girls and I are starting a league. We have only enough for two teams right now, so it's kind of a lame league, but it's better than nothing. Wanna join us for practice sometime? It'll be fun." She blinked, cocking her head at Seiya. "You know what? You look, like, totally different when you're not in your sailor fuku." "You change the subject a lot." "That's because the world is full of too much stuff to talk about." Belinda grinned, cheerful and strangely infectious. "I always wanted to ask you. Do the boots hurt your feet?" "Huh?" "I mean, the boots in your sailor fuku. Don't they pinch your toes when you run?" "Well, they probably should . . . But they don't." "Magic. I knew it!" Belinda hopped up off the couch. "Look, I gotta get going. Stop by dirtball practice sometime, okay?" Despite herself, Seiya suddenly laughed. "You have a lot of energy." "Yup. That's me!" "There was a word in Japanese, for people like you. 'Genki.' " "Genki?" Belinda rolled the word around her mouth, tasting it. "I like it! Genki. That's a GREAT word! You'll have to teach me some more new words sometime, right, Seiya?" "Right." "See ya!" Belinda closed the door behind her. Seiya stood in the middle of her home, blinking, confused. Why did her home suddenly seem slightly darker, slightly gloomier, the moment after Belinda left? ******************** By the fourth day, they were starting to relax again. No more youma, and no more attacks. Maybe there really was no more threat to worry about. Had the danger already passed them by . . . ? It was a dangerous attitude, and yet very difficult to suppress, at the same time. At the same time that Belinda was visiting Seiya, Taiki was over at Yaten's place, pacing back and forth in front of a coffee table littered with open books and texts, muttering to herself and frowning slightly. Yaten watched this, with some amusement, from a safe distance. "Are you trying to wear a circular track into my carpet, or what?" "I'm *thinking*," Taiki retorted. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would an undead creature suddenly show up on our planet? I thought that vampyre tended to avoid planets with Sailor Senshi on them. Don't they normally restrict themselves to travel on Lost worlds? I mean, the Tau system is the place where you're supposed to find vampyre. Not Kinmoku." Yaten shrugged. "Maybe it's gone already. It hasn't struck again, yet, at least. Or maybe it wasn't a vampyre at all. It could've been a sick, fetishist serial killer." Taiki winced. "Is that a better alternative, or a worse alternative?" "Whatever. I'd be more worried about that youma, myself." "I don't think--" Taiki was abruptly cut off as the telephone rang. Wordlessly, Yaten sprang across the room and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" "Moshi-moshi? Yaten-chan?" "Oh. Hi." Yaten briefly turned toward Taiki. "It's Minako-chan," she mouthed. Taiki slapped her forehead, and Yaten turned her attention back to the phone. "Minako-chan, I didn't know that you could pull off a trick like this--" "Well, *you're* the one who taught me how. The telephone is a metaphor, remember?" " . . . Right." "Listen, I've got some big news. I wanted to share it with you!" "Uh . . . Okay . . . " "So, like, today we were all - that is, Usagi-chan, Rei-chan, Mako-chan, Ami-chan, and Mamoru-san and I - we were all sitting around the Crown parlor eating ice cream, and Usagi-chan stood up and tapped her soda glass with her fingers - it was really funny, almost, you should have been there - and she held up her hand, and guess what?!" "What?" "There was a DIAMOND ring on her finger!!!! She and Mamoru announced their engagement today!!!!" Yaten almost dropped the phone right out of her hands. Taiki glanced at her curiously. "Something wrong?" "N-N-No. I'm fine." Yaten gripped the receiver tightly in her sweaty hands. "Um, that's great, Minako-chan. That's really great." "Oh, but it gets better!!" Yaten's heart sank in her chest. "So when they said that they were engaged, we all started clapping and shouting congratulations and stuff, right? But Ami-chan kind of blushed and said, 'Ano . . . ,' just like that. And then Mako-chan pointed out that her hands had been in her lap the whole afternoon, and all of a sudden Rei-chan demanded to see her hands. So Ami-chan picked up her hands and put them on the table, and guess what?!" Yaten could guess pretty well, but she said nothing. There were no words to say. "Ami-chan had a DIAMOND RING on her finger!!!!" "R-R-Really?" "REALLY! It was from Urawa-kun! SHE'S ENGAGED TO URAWA-KUN!!!" " . . . Who is Urawa-kun?" "He was Ami-chan's close friend in eighth grade. He had to move away at the end of the year, but they kept in touch by writing letters almost every day . . . You know, kind of like us. It's terribly romantic, isn't it? A long-distance relationship, that turns into such a deep and strong love." Minako sighed, dreamily. "Anyway, Urawa-kun moved back to Tokyo right at the end of the school year. That was about the time that you guys left, remember? He and Ami-chan have been together for three months since then, and I guess they talked about a lot of important, heavy stuff. So Urawa-kun bought Ami-chan a ring, to symbolize their promise to marry each other someday. I don't think they're going to get married anytime soon, but they ARE officially engaged now. Isn't that wonderful?!" Yaten silently begged. But Yaten had to admit that it was hard *not* to stare, with her face so pale and clenched as it was. "That's wonderful. Send them our congratulations, okay?" "Right! Say, Yaten-chan, do you--?" "Minako-chan, I have to go now." "But--" "I have to go now." Yaten's hands were trembling. "Just tell them congratulations, for us. From everybody here." "Okay . . . Ja ne, Yaten-chan." "Ja matta ne." Yaten hung up the phone. Taiki, of course, was still staring at her. "Something's wrong. Don't lie to me, Yaten." Yaten was afraid to meet Taiki's eyes. The horrible thing was that she had always been able to read Taiki like a book; whether this was an extension of her empathic senses, or just an affinity and familiarity bred by a close friendship, or both, she had never been able to exactly determine. But she knew Taiki inside and out, the same way that Taiki knew her. Yaten knew how deeply Mizuno Ami's words and actions had touched Taiki's heart, and how, believe it or not, they had profoundly affected Taiki's outlook and attitude toward life. Taiki was different than she had been before - more open, more gentle, more understanding, and slowly, gradually experimenting with more human contact, by expanding her circle of friends and loved ones. And it was due, in a large part, to the persistent echo of Ami's words that still reverberated through Taiki's head. Taiki thought about Ami, a lot; to a very small extent, she was even trying to model herself more after the Earthling girl. That Ami still held a special place in Taiki's heart was undeniable. But Yaten was unsure . . . how Taiki really felt, or had felt at one point, or still felt now, about Ami . . . How deep, how strong, did those feelings really run? "Yaten, I'm waiting." Taiki tapped her foot impatiently. And, finally, Yaten clenched her fists at her side and resigned herself to her fate. "You're going to want to sit down for this," she said slowly. Taiki sat down, and waited. Yaten took a deep breath, steeling herself. And suddenly, a horrifying, stomach-churning thought flashed through Yaten's brain. ******************** Reynard stood at the edge of the murky water, waiting patiently. As difficult as patience was for Reynard, it was a skill that he had quickly acquired in order to survive being in the Master's presence. His Master did not like to be rushed. Reynard breathed slowly, quietly. He stood at attention. He stood alert. Delilah was beside him, standing still and silent. They felt the first tingling vibrations of dark energy. The Master was stirring. The waters in front of them began to ripple, and lap slightly at their feet. ----Have you come seeking answers to your questions?---- a voice echoed within Reynard's head. It was the beginning of a familiar litany for Reynard. The Master was speaking to him; he delivered the correct answer. "I come with many questions," he recited the line from memory. ----I have not answers for your questions. I will give you orders only.---- "We will obey, because we love and trust you," Delilah responded. Reynard hated this little game that the Master made them play. Since the Master had first recruited the two of them to be his servants, he had been very forthcoming about the eventual end results - and the promised rewards - of his machinations. To satisfy Delilah's madness, he had promised to deliver her the throne of the Queen of Kinmoku, and to give her a planet full of subjects who loved her, worshipped her, and obeyed her every whim. For Reynard, the Master promised a planet full of potential victims in which he could roam about freely, never fearing retribution or punishment should he decide to indulge in his favorite hobbies with any mortal members of the populace. But beyond that, the Master had chosen to keep the both of them in the dark about the actual technical details of the work they would be doing to accomplish these goals. Reynard was not a fool. He knew that when the Master had agreed to feed him enough energy to teleport across dimensions, to create his youma eggs, and to cast his dark spells upon the planet, the Master had also established an unbreakable link directly into Reynard's mind. This link allowed the Master to speak to Reynard, as he was now; it also allowed the Master to keep a mental watch on Reynard, and to detect even the earliest signs of defection or betrayal. Reynard had agreed to these conditions willingly; he didn't know exactly why the Master was so interested in the conquest of Kinmoku, and he didn't care. What he did know was that if he helped turn Kinmoku into a Lost world, he would be rewarded handsomely for his efforts. The arrangement was sweet enough to keep Reynard's loyalty firmly ingrained, regardless of whether he resented being kept in the dark about the Master's actual plans or not. Reynard took small comfort in the fact that he knew his Master's true and real name. He knew this name, but he would never dare to speak it aloud. His Master's name was Malathos. "We await your orders, Master," Reynard said. The waters at his feet seethed, and the disembodied voice reverberated in his head. ----You were forced to release a type A youma egg in the royal palace, Reynard?---- "Yes, Master. The Sailor Senshi defeated it. But I can create stronger eggs." ----I do not doubt it. You have established a network of carriers?---- "With the type B eggs, yes." The Master sighed with pleasure. The waters at Reynard's feet rippled lazily. Of course, it wasn't *water* that Reynard was standing in front of. It wasn't a lake, at all. It WAS the Master, assuming his most effortless corporeal form - pure liquid. Reynard knew this, but still found the experience of seeing his Master face to face disconcerting. "What are our orders now, Master?" Delilah asked. ----Continue to spread type B youma eggs throughout the planet. Do it from within this dimension. Use the carriers that you have already created. Reynard, I wish for you to unleash several more type A eggs within close proximity of the Sailor Senshi. I want to see, and to study, how they fight together. Delilah, watch the Queen carefully. Study her flaws and her weaknesses. She's your prey, but you must not dare do anything more than watch and wait until I give you the proper signal.---- Reynard and Delilah bowed their heads in unison. "As you wish, Master." ----Very well. Leave me in peace.---- The waters stilled. The Master grew silent. Delilah and Reynard took their leave of him. They walked down the cold stone passageways of the Master's dimension, side-by-side. Reynard was proud of the little world that the Master had constructed just for them; it was finite, and it had its boundaries, but on days like today it appeared as if the twisted subterranean labyrinth would go on and on forever. It was dark, gloomy, and creepy; it suited Reynard just right. He and Delilah had been given the dimension to use as both a residence, as a base of operation, and as a hideout. It was here that Reynard crafted his cunning and ingenious designs of youma eggs; it was here that Delilah primped and preened, surrounded by her youma servants, pretending that she was already the Queen of Kinmoku. But Delilah was a lunatic, so Reynard was used to it. As they walked, Delilah made a clicking sound with her tongue. Reynard raised his eyebrow. "Is something bothering you?" "Sailor Senshi." Delilah's eyes sparkled. "They're beautiful, aren't they? And powerful. And they will love me and serve me when I am the Queen of Kinmoku. Won't that be wonderful?" "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but in order to take over the planet, we're probably going to have to kill all four of them, including the Queen." Delilah wrinkled her nose. "How disappointing. The imposter Queen I could care less about, but the other three . . . " Her voice trailed off. Then she blinked, and shook her head. "Are you sure that the Sailor Senshi won't detect the type B youma eggs surrounding them?" "I am absolutely positive. The Master and I have foreseen this." Reynard reached deep within his robes and pulled out a youma egg from one of his many pockets. He held it between his fingers as he walked, relishing in the smooth feel of its small, white shell between his fingers. The youma eggs were his pride and joy. After thousands of years of perfecting his craft, he was now among the most talented and skillful makers of youma eggs in the galaxy. Of course, that was why the Master had recruited him in the first place. And because creating youma eggs required a great deal of magical energy, and the Master was more than willing to fill Reynard with even enough energy to spare, their mutual arrangement was working out pretty darn well. But because Reynard was One Sick Bastard, he didn't waste his time creating just ANY normal, boring old youma eggs. He had three types that he specialized in - A, B, and C - and each one gave him a particular little sadistic thrill every time that he used them. He used type A and type B eggs on almost a daily basis; but type C eggs were the rarest of them all, and he hardly ever created or used them. Reynard fingered the youma egg thoughtfully. Type A and type B eggs were what he specialized in, to be specific. The first, the most powerful, utilized the good old-fashioned skin-bursting-monster-transforming method of possession. Type A youma were powerful enough to absorb their victims completely, gaining all of their knowledge, skills, abilities, and sometimes, personality traits; unfortunately, this absorption did not come without a considerable alteration in appearance. And also, a type A youma radiated enough negative energy to make it a sort of psychic beacon for even the most untrained Sailor Senshi; and Reynard knew very well that the Sailor Senshi on this planet of Kinmoku were about as far from untrained novices as one could get. Four days ago, Reynard had witnessed that the Senshi had very little trouble separating a type A youma from its host, and then destroying the youma altogether. The Master may have ordered him to unleash several more type A youma eggs, but Reynard already had the sinking feeling that all of those future battles would turn out in the Senshi's favor. But still . . . This particular type of youma, the overbearing monsters, the foul creatures of the night, the hideous, the malformed, the evil and disfigured . . . these were the only type that the Sailor Senshi were *aware* of. Reynard smiled coldly to himself as he recalled his greatest invention, second breed of youma, type B. This was the type that was the most dangerous to the Senshi; the type that they were already surrounded by yet completely oblivious to. A type B youma was weak, so very weak. It was incapable of assuming a corporeal form in the dimension outside of the Master's realm; it merely lived as a soft, wispy spirit within the mind of its possessees. Its presence was so weak, and so faint, that it was virtually undetectable even by the strongest empaths or Senshi. In fact, those possessed by this youma were hardly ever aware of it. The youma could not completely subsume their will, it could not change their personality or behavior, it could not even alter their memories or loyalties. All it could do was . . . suggest. Whisper. A gentle push here, a simple nudge there. Reynard used them to spread his youma eggs, of both breeds. He used type B youma to create carriers, his unwitting servants who continued to spread his subtle influence throughout the society of Kinmoku. These first few carriers had been difficult to obtain; youma eggs needed to be transferred by touch, and he had had to expend an enormous amount of energy to cross over into the other dimension and shake a few hands, pat a few backs, seduce a few pretty girls and kiss them on the lips. But once the youma eggs had dissolved into the brains of their victims, it was just a matter of sending them more eggs to carry, and it only took a small amount of his energy to send the tiny eggs across the dimensional gap. From this point onward, he would do just that - send only the youma eggs across the dimensional divide, and embed them in the bodies of his carriers to be transferred to even more victims. He could embed the unhatched type B eggs into the carrier's hands, or their lips, or anywhere in their bodies, usually as they slept at night. Then, the next morning, the carrier would be subtly influenced by the youma in their brains. the youma would whisper. And in the moment of touch, the unhatched egg would jump from the carrier to the new victim, and sink in, dissolve, take over. Sometimes it would be the type B demon, in which case, a new carrier would offer his or her services to Reynard. But sometimes it would be the type A demon, which would only take ten or fifteen minutes to burst through the skin of the victim and transform him or her into a terrible monstrosity. "Shall we set loose a type A youma now?" Reynard asked, almost casually. He was in a good mood, a playful mood. He wanted to have some fun. "Wonderful!" Delilah clapped her hands with delight, almost childishly. "I want to watch my Senshi fight it!" Ignoring her last statement, Reynard waved his hand in front of his chest, conjuring up his mirror. An image quickly swam into focus - an old and grizzled Assembly senator, napping lightly with his read resting on a conference table, surrounded by other senior senators who were struggling to stay awake while one of their colleagues filibustered in a droning monotone at the front of the small conference room. "This is Senator Meritson," Reynard said calmly, indicating the sleeping senator with the point of an almost accusatory finger. "I infected him with a type B youma egg yesterday. Now, it's only a matter of embedding an unhatched type A egg into his body, and then instructing him to pass it on to someone else. In the body of the second victim, the egg will hatch." "Marvelous," Delilah breathed with a measure of awe. Reynard held a type A egg between his fingers, carefully. He whispered a few words. And, suddenly, the egg vanished. Delilah blinked. "Where is it now?" "Inside Senator Meritson's body. Specifically, buried in the palm of his right hand." Grinning like a shark, Reynard leaned forward and whispered into the mirror. "Be sure to shake the hand of that pretty little intern of yours, as soon as this meeting is over. It's about time you thanked her for a job well done," he instructed the sleeping senator in a low, soft, sibilant voice. Imperceptibly, the sleeping senator nodded. "Very well. It is done." Reynard stepped away from the mirror, but left it there, floating. "We have, maybe, thirty minutes before this meeting concludes. And then, the secretary should walk right up to Meritson and present him with the printouts of his mail for the day. He'll shake her hand, and transfer the type A egg. After the transfer, we have a maximum wait of ten minutes before the show begins." Delilah was grinning, too, an almost perfect imitation of Reynard's predatory smile. "I simply can't wait!" She shivered with anticipation. ******************** It was dark in Kou Seiya's home. The sun had set, but she simply did not have the will to get herself up off her couch and turn on any of the lights. Yaten had called fifteen minutes ago, hurriedly repeating the bad news, and then hanging up again after Seiya's awkward response of "That's nice, I guess." Seiya buried her head in her hands, and thought dark thoughts. Who was she kidding?! It wasn't "bad" news, it was GREAT news! She was happy for Odango, she really was! Odango deserved to be with the person that she loved. And that guy, Mamoru, he seemed okay enough . . . It was petty, and stupid, of Seiya, to feel depressed. And unfamiliar twinge of self-loathing crawled through Seiya's stomach. Not only was it petty and stupid of her to feel jealous, it was unjustified, as well. Because Odango had never . . . returned . . . her . . . feelings. It hurt. It hurt a lot, to think about that. Her beautiful, shining, wonderful, brave strong and true Odango . . . She was so full of love and laughter, and shared both equally and generously with all those around her. And she HAD loved Seiya, a great deal, but not in the WAY that Seiya had in returned loved her . . . Suddenly, a hand fell on Seiya's shoulder. Seiya didn't bother to raise her head. She knew who it was. It was Taiki. "It's pretty dark in here," Taiki observed, stating the obvious. "How'd you get in?" "You left the door unlocked." Taiki shuffled around the couch and sat herself down next to Seiya. She nudged Seiya's shoulder. "Want some?" "Some what?" Seiya finally raised her head up out of her hands. Oh, of course. Taiki was holding a bottle out to her. "What is it?" "Whiskey. Eighty proof. Very nice, Yaten brought it back from Earth." "I'll get some glasses--" "No. Don't bother. It's better if you just drink straight from the bottle." Taiki demonstrated, appropriately. "See? Come on, just do it. I don't have any contagious diseases." "Gimme that." Seiya snatched the bottle away from her and drank long and deeply, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat. It settled into her stomach, leaving behind a warm glow. "Good stuff." "You didn't cough," Taiki said with some measure of admiration. "Have you ever had hard liquor before?" "No. Have you?" "No." "Then we should have done something like this earlier." Seiya took another swig from the bottle. "You know," Taiki said, softly, thoughtfully, "sometimes I think about everything that happened back on Earth, and I think . . . Maybe if Yaten and I had been better friends to you, none of this would have happened." Seiya's head snapped around quickly. "What?!" "I mean, we kept talking about it. And wondering about it. We couldn't figure out what was driving you to fall in love with Tsukino-san." "She has a beautiful shine. I love her shine." "But, Seiya, were you . . . lonely?" " . . . " "Without the Princess, were you lonely?" "I . . . " Seiya lowered her eyes, staring her lap. "Yes, I was lonely." Her voice was small and quiet, subdued, like a mouse. It was utterly uncharacteristic of her, and more than a little bit frightening to Taiki. "But it wasn't just because I missed the Princess! You know what it was like. By the time we reached Earth, eighty percent of the galaxy was gone. Just like that, trillions upon trillions of people, hundreds of thousands of civilizations, wiped out in an instant. I mean, there used to be all these thousands of beautiful planets all teeming with life, and then . . . And then space was filled with nothing but dark, cold rocks orbiting cold, lifeless stars. And after everyone had fought so hard to stave off Galaxia, and it kept ending in disaster after disaster after disaster . . . We were there, when Jurai fell. We were there, when Vega was destroyed. We were always running, just one step ahead of the wave of destruction. It was terrible. I was so afraid, and so lost, and I was losing hope, I was almost certain that Galaxia would destroy the entire galaxy, and I was halfway considering just giving everything up and letting her take me quickly and painlessly, because I was so SICK and TIRED of running and hiding and always watching everyone around me die . . . I kept up the facade of optimism, because I could feel you two slipping, and I didn't want to add to your burden. I wanted to comfort you, especially you, Taiki, but I didn't know how, because I couldn't believe any words that I would need to say, and I didn't want to know that I had lied to you . . . But then . . . But then I met Odango. And I could FEEL her shine, burning all the way deep down inside me. She helped me find my hope and my faith again, even before I knew who she really was. And afterwards, after that night on the airplane, when she finally spread her wings for me to see . . . I started hoping that maybe we would be able to defeat Galaxia after all. Because she was so beautiful and pure and strong, that there was no way she would ever lose to Galaxia . . . " Seiya buried her head in her hands, again. "But I thought the same thing about the Princess, too," she moaned softly. Gently, Taiki wrapped her arm around Seiya's shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Seiya, I'm so sorry. If Yaten and I had been there for you . . . If you hadn't been so lonely and vulnerable, then maybe . . . Maybe you wouldn't have had your heart broken." "Oh, no!" Seiya jerked her head upward again, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "It wasn't your fault at all! You guys were - are - the greatest!" "That's not true, and you know it." "It IS true! If I hadn't had you two with me, I would have gone mad, or given up to Galaxia, or worse, LONG before we ever reached Earth!" "Seiya . . . " Taiki felt her stomach churn uncomfortably. Seiya's face was so earnest and trusting, and her eyes were full of that particular brand of childish, unconditional love that she so specialized in . . . It WASN'T true, Taiki and Yaten had been downright lousy friends at times, always wrapped up in their own troubles. But Seiya was incapable of seeing the faults in their relationship, and she grasped (single-mindedly and stubbornly) only the fact that they loved each other deeply, and that was enough for her. "Well, Seiya." Taiki smiled wanly. "I'm glad to hear that you feel that way." "But what about you?!" "Huh?" "What about, you know, Mizuno-san?" Taiki's cheeks blushed a deep crimson. "What about her?" "Did you . . . ?" Seiya trailed off, unsure how to finish. "Did I?" Taiki repeated the half-formed question, almost thoughtfully. "Did I love her? Is that what you wanted to ask?" "Yeah . . . " "I don't know." Taiki's response was too quick, and too curt; Seiya almost flinched away from her. "At first, I was just sort of fascinated by her. I had never met anyone like her in my entire life. So I was studying her, but in a distant way, almost as if she were some sort of strange and exotic amoeba under a microscope . . . " Seiya giggled, nervously, at the metaphor. Taiki continued. "But then she started *showing* me things, like . . . romance, and dreams . . . I felt strange when I was with her, almost as if she was a teacher of some sort, and I was her pupil . . . But I was too proud to ever admit it, and besides, it was a confusing and illogical attitude to adopt. I mean, SHE was from a backwater little pre-Subspace planet, whereas *I* was an intelligent, well-educated traveler who had already visited dozens of extraterrestrial societies . . . I wondered, what sort of knowledge could she hold that she could possibly teach someone like me? But then, I don't know, I suppose I stopped obsessing over all of that, and . . . I just enjoyed being near her. It's like what you said, Seiya. I liked her shine. She had a beautiful shine. I wished I could have told her that, that she had a beautiful shine. But I was too proud to admit it, and too absorbed in my own problems, and too busy worrying about and planning for the day when Galaxia would arrive . . . And I had my hands full worrying about you, too, especially considering what a lousy babysitter Yaten turned out to be, and how you developed the uncanny ability to keep sneaking away from us . . . " They both laughed at those memories, quiet and quick chuckles that suddenly eased up the tension in the room. And then, Taiki shrugged. "I don't know. She means a lot to me. That's probably the best way to describe it." "But did you . . . " Seiya paused, searching for the right words. "Were you . . . You know, like . . . attracted to her?" "You mean, did I want to *touch* her?" "Yeah. Um, you know. In that way." "Hmmmmm." Taiki frowned, actually considering the question as if it were a particularly engrossing and challenging logic puzzle. "That's a very difficult question to answer, especially considering our disguised forms on Earth." Then she blushed an even deeper red, but smiled softly to herself, all the same. "I thought about it. I suppose you could consider it a bit of a crush, if you'd like." "Oooooh, a crush. How cuuuuute," Seiya teased, reaching out to pinch Taiki's bright red cheeks. "Taiki had a crush on Ami-chaaaaan." "That's not funny," Taiki admonished as she pulled away from Seiya's touch. Then she raised the bottle of whisky back to her lips and drank three deep, full gulps. "Good stuff," she sighed as she lowered the bottle back down. "I'd like some more of that, if you don't mind," Seiya said as she snatched the bottle away from Taiki again. "I still feel depressed." She drank deeply, the lowered the bottle, sighing just as Taiki had. "Good stuff," she echoed. "Give that back!" Taiki grabbed the bottle out of Seiya's hands, and drank deeply again. "Good stuff." "Pass it back here." Taiki did; Seiya drank. "Good stuff." "A very pleasing numbing effect on a confused and broken heart," Taiki hiccupped. Her speech was beginning to slur, slightly. "Any left . . .?" "Some." "Give ih." Another deep gulp of whisky; and a repeated affirmation. "Good shtuff." "I know." Seiya grasped the neck of the bottle and pulled it out of Taiki's grip. She drained the last of it, wiping her mouth clumsily as she dropped the empty bottle to the ground. "Reelly gooh shtuff." "Yeah." "Yeah." Feeling the numbing effects of the alcohol finally settling in, Seiya leaned her head against Taiki's shoulder and closed her eyes. She sighed, relaxing her body against Taiki's. "Hey, Taiki . . . You wanna know whah?" "Whah?" Taiki responded, groggily, sleepily. "Do you 'member the firsh produsher we hah on Earsh as thu Three Ligsh? Thah babe, wazzhername, Yamada-san?" "Yeah . . . " "She wash real prettee." "Yeah . . . " "I hah a dream 'bouh her . . . naked . . . in a big tub . . . ov shocolut puddin . . ." "Seiya . . . " "Yeah?" "So dih I." But by that time, Seiya was already snoring drunkenly, having fallen asleep while leaning against Taiki's shoulder. With a mental shrug, Taiki followed her example a moment later. ******************** After Taiki had kidnapped her best bottle of whiskey and run off to mope in some dark corner all alone, Yaten had resigned herself to a boring, lonely evening in which she planned to do absolutely nothing constructive. But she had quickly begun to feel bored and restless, so she decided to go for a walk through the palace. With her sketch pad under her arm, she soon found herself settling down into a low-traffic stairwell just outside a row of Assembly conference rooms, lazily sketching the politicians, businessmen, lobbyists, and courtesans as they scurried to and fro inside and out of the rooms. This particular stairwell was one of her favorite hideouts in the entire palace; it allowed her to people-watch and draw in relative peace. She was fascinated by the movements, the faces, and the clothing of these strange people. Of course, she would rather be sketching a natural scene in the palace gardens, but it was already dark out, and she wasn't too fond of the summer bugs that liked to swarm around the gardens. For the moment, this indoor spectacle would have to suffice. Sketching was good, soothing. It was nice to fall back into a routine . . . Yaten felt herself relaxing, growing calm and contented. A few guards waved at her, shyly, as they passed by. Feeling charitable, Yaten returned their waves, and smiled at them. They walked away with wings on their feet and little cartoon hearts practically exploding in front of their eyes. Yaten grinned at herself, suppressing a chuckle. Men! And to think, that she had once been one. They lost all sense of reason, just because of a glimpse at a pretty face. The sketches were interesting, as they flowed out of her hand. Ugh, ugly hats were back in style. The women had nice hair underneath the hats; they should display their hair naturally, Yaten thought. <> "Shut up, Brain," Yaten muttered under her breath. "I'm a failure as a clairvoyant, remember? Don't start giving me trouble now." <> Yaten began whistling quietly through her teeth. "I'm not li-sten-ing," she said in a sing-song voice. Just concentrate on drawing, and everything will be fine. Yaten sketched. <---danger---> Yaten's head snapped upward. It was just like . . . Just like the time that she had sensed the first youma's presence in the palace . . . <---DANGER!---> "Youma!" It was undeniable; she could FEEL the youma, like a physical presence, turning and twisting her stomach into shivering knots of loathing and revulsion. She bolted upright and threw down the sketch pad, flying on fleeted feet down the stairwell. Somewhere . . . Nearby . . . Yaten stretched her Senshi senses and her empathic senses outward, searching for a physical location. Where?! WHERE?! A tangled knot of people - politicians, secretaries, interns, reporters - were gathered around the entrance to one of the conference rooms. And, suddenly, they began screaming. "Thanks, Brain, but I could have figured that one out for myself." Skidding to a sudden halt, Yaten threw her hand into the air and felt the henshin microphone materializing along the side of her face. "Healer Star Power, MAKE UP!" ******************** <---danger---> Seiya moaned, and stirred in her sleep. "Lemme alone, Taiki." "I'm nah--" <---DANGER!---> Simultaneously, their eyes flew open, and they both bolted upright. This, of course, also caused two simultaneous headaches to come bursting forth through two skulls, not to mention two simultaneous cases of swimming vision, nausea, and disorientation. <---DANGER!!!---> "Taiki, ish a youma!" "I know." Taiki groaned, and clutched at her head. "We gotta go!" "Fighter Shtar Power, MAKE UP!" "Maker *hic* Star Power, MAKE UP!" They ran. Sort of. Actually, they both stumbled a lot. ******************** The civilians had fled, screaming. The youma - six feet tall, bowlegged, winged, leather-skinned, with that bizarre and inexplicable kanji on its back - had advanced toward Healer, who was running backward, drawing it away from the fleeing civilians. Then Healer felt her back slam into a wall. "Star Sensitive INFERNO!" It was a powerful blast, powerful enough to send the youma stumbling backward, howling with pain and fury. But not, however, powerful enough to kill it outright. Healer could sense the presence of another, buried deep within the creature - a young woman, terrified, confused, desperate to be freed. The youma stumbled away from Healer, and she seized her opportunity, dodging around its side and dancing lightly back into the main hallway, into open space. There was a flutter of red butterfly wings by her side. And then Sailor Kinmoku was standing beside her, the Heart Blossom Healing Wand clutched tightly in her fist. "Another youma?" "Yes - there's a civilian trapped inside of it." "Where are Fighter and Maker?" "On their way . . . Uh, I think." The youma swiped one gargantuan clawed hand at them; they dodged, leaping away from each other. Healer scrambled past the youma, whipping out her Star Yell again as she did so. "Star Sensitive INFERNO!" Bluish green lightning enveloped the creature and it howled again, snarling and lunging toward her. Healer avoided the youma's blind thrust easily; she had the grace of a cat, and besides, it was slow and stupid. And tired. One or two more blasts ought to drain it of its energy completely, and then Sailor Kinmoku would be able to do her thing. Heck, Healer might not even need Fighter or Maker for this battle, after all. She halted herself, standing in front of the monster, grinning at it mischievously. Maybe it was time to have a little fun, to lure it in for the final attack. "Hey, ugly!" The youma glared at her with its baleful eyes, fangs dripping greedily with saliva. "Healer, be careful!" Sailor Kinmoku called out from the other side of the youma. Childishly, stupidly, Healer hid the Star Yell behind her back, cupping it snuggly with her hands. The ploy worked; the youma blinked at her vacantly . . . and then it grinned. Healer grinned right back at it. "Do you want a piece of me, you big tall ugly thing?! Yeah, that's right - I'm talking to you!" The youma advanced forward, slowly, one step at a time. Healer stood her ground, clutching the Star Yell behind her back, steadying herself, mentally aiming. One blast at close range, at the creature's head. That would finish the battle, and still let Sailor Kinmoku heal the trapped spirit within. Quick, clean, and painless. In fact, it was pretty darn brilliant, if Healer did think so herself. The monster advanced forward. Another step. And another. It raised its claws to strike. Healer took a deep breath. Three . . . Two . . . One-- But, of course, Healer never had the chance to execute her attack. Because, at that moment, both she and the monster froze with sudden shock. This, because the sudden sound of finger snapping filled and echoed through the hallways around them. "Penetrahing through thu darknessh of nighh . . . " "Theh air of freedom breaksh through . . . " "We are thu three *hic* I mean, two . . . uh, shacred shooting shtars!" "Sailor Shtar Fighter!" "Sailor Shtar Maker!" Healer almost screamed with sudden fright. They were standing right behind her. Fighter's hand shot forward, and she grabbed Healer's wrist, pulling her between herself and Maker. "Come on, Healer, ish time for thu gran finale!" Maker winked at her, conspiratorially. "You know, thu parh where we go 'Sailor Shtarlighs, Shtage On!' " "I luv tha parh," Fighter mumbled, her head almost swimming forward on her shoulders. Then she hiccupped. "Oh, yeah, are we shupposed to do ih now?" Healer wrenched her hand away from Fighter. "Y-Y-You're drunk!" "Ahm noh. *hic*" "And you, Maker---!!" Healer sputtered with shock and outrage. Maker regarded her with bleary, bloodshot eyes. "Wuh?" "LOOK OUT!!!" Sailor Kinmoku suddenly shrieked. The youma's massive clawed hand was arcing smoothly and quickly toward them, aiming to finish all three of them off with one well-timed, well-placed slash. Healer raised her Star Yell just in time. "Star Sensitive INFERNO!!!" She didn't hold back this time, not by much; the clawed hand was driven backward by the force of her blast. That same eerie bluish-green lightning raced up the creature's arm and began wrapping itself around the youma's body, scalding it and draining its energy. The youma howled, for one last, final time; then it slumped to the ground and sat, silent and glazed-eyed, exhausted. "So, hah!" Fighter pointed at the youma, swaying back and forth precariously on wobbly legs. "That'll teash you to messh wih us!" Not a moment later, Fighter simply leaned forward, and then fell flat on her face, slamming her body face-first into the lushly carpeted ground and then lying there, face down, snoring loudly. "Waihter, I'll have a mahgherida on thu rocksh . . . " And with that, Maker followed suit, crashing down on top of Fighter and lying there, instantly having fallen into a deep sleep. Healer nudged at them with the toes of her booted foot. "Uh, guys?" "There's no time to worry about them!" Sailor Kinmoku had already leapt around to the front of the youma, and was pointing her wand at it. "Kinmoku Heart Blossom Healing Petal SHOWER!" Healer struggled to pull the other two upright, but they were too heavy for her to support. Grasping them both by the base of their ponytails and dragging them across the floor, Healer scrambled quickly away from the path of the Sailor Kinmoku's attack. As the youma began to fade back into the form of a young woman, Healer turned her desperate eyes toward her Queen. "What should I *do* with them?!" Finished with her business, Sailor Kinmoku tucked her wand under her arm and pursed her lips, eyeing her three Senshi thoughtfully. "If they're found like that, it will be a scandal, not to mention an embarrassment . . . " Footsteps, in the distance. And shouting. "Here comes the media, and the guards," Healer noted. "Should I--?" "Do you have enough strength left to teleport a short distance?" " . . . I think so," Healer lied. Well, barely enough. She had just unleashed her attack three times in a row, and now Sailor Kinmoku was asking her to *teleport* somewhere else, and not just by herself, but dragging the dead weights of Fighter and Maker along with her. She'd be lucky if she didn't kill herself. "Take them to my private chambers," Sailor Kinmoku ordered. "Wait for me, there. I'll meet you as soon as I can hand this girl over to medical personnel." "Right." Healer took a deep breath, steeling herself. She gripped Fighter's and Maker's ponytails tightly in her trembling hands. "Sailor TELEPORT!" A moment later, she came crashing down on top of the Queen's own bed, Fighter and Maker flopping down alongside her. Fighter blinked groggily, startled into a semi-awake state by the shock of the teleport. "Healer . . . wuh? Where are we?" "We're in deep trouble, that's where we are," Healer snapped angrily. She struggled to sit upright; it was too hard, she was too drained and exhausted. The teleport had been the final straw that broke the camel's back. She closed her eyes and sighed, shedding her transformation as she rolled over on her side. Now she was facing Fighter, so she opened her eyes again, and glared. "If I were you, I would de-transform. Now." "Okaaay." In a moment, it was done. Now they were just Seiya and Yaten again, absurdly lying side-by-side on top of their Queen's bed, with Maker still sound asleep and snoring softly on the other side of Yaten. Yaten could already feel her anger rising like a hot flame inside her chest. For the moment, her anger was actually sustaining and revitalizing her energy level. She clenched her teeth and growled at Seiya. "How DARE you show up for a fight in a state like that! What were you THINKING?!" " 'M sorry," Seiya muttered, her eyes still weary and bloodshot. Then she moaned and rolled over, burying her face in a pillow. "I can't do anything right," her muffled voice came from somewhere deep within the soft, folded pillow. "Oh, for Maresuu's sake," Yaten swore, finally managing to sit upright. The *last* thing that she needed was for Seiya to start having a drunken pity- party. "Seiya, pull yourself together. What were you drinking, anyway?!" "Whiskey." Still, Seiya did not move her face, keeping it buried in the pillow. "WHISKEY?! Where did you get it?!" "From Taiki." "MY whiskey?!" "Yeah." "Is there any LEFT?!" " . . . No." "GAAAH!" Yaten yanked Seiya's ponytail roughly backwards, jerking Seiya's startled face upward, and slapped her cheek, soundly. "That was imported, aged whisky from a SCOTTISH brewery! I don't know if you noticed, Seiya, but SCOTLAND is ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ENTIRE FRICKIN' GALAXY! Where, pray tell, am I supposed to find another--?!" "So, it was YOU who supplied them with the liquor." With a flutter of ethereal butterfly wings, Queen Kakyuu appeared, standing beside the bed and crossing her arms, sternly. "Yaten, I would have thought you more responsible than that." "It's not my fault!" Yaten held her hands up in the air, a gesture of innocence. In the process of doing so, she also managed to release her grip on Seiya's ponytail, and Seiya's face crashed back down into the pillow where she had buried it earlier. "I gave the bottle to Taiki, because I thought that she would appreciate a sip or two," Yaten explained, hurriedly. "I expected TAIKI to be the responsible one." Kakyuu glared at them all in turn - Seiya, with her face down, sobbing drunkenly into one of Kakyuu's pillows; Yaten, blushing sheepishly and looking horribly embarrassed and at the same time, horribly tired; and Maker, still transformed, sleeping soundly and peacefully on the other side of the bed. The Queen of Kinmoku sighed, with resignation. "I don't suppose that any of you have the strength to return to your own apartments tonight?" "I can walk, easily," Yaten lied. Kakyuu knew that she was lying, but it didn't matter. "You three can stay here, tonight. But only tonight. And, by the way, you should all consider yourselves in deep trouble." She turned to leave the room, still glaring over her shoulder. "And that's *not* just because we have a new enemy to fight." She left, closing the door softly behind her. Seiya sobbed extravagantly into the pillow. "My life SUCKS! Kakyuu HATES me! And it's all TAIKI'S fault!" "Shut up and go to sleep," Yaten grumbled, flopping back down onto the bed and closing her eyes. She was very, very tired. It suddenly felt as if every last drop of her energy had been drained away. Maker suddenly rolled over and wrapped her arms around Yaten, cuddling against her erotically. "Mmmm, Ami-chan," Maker whispered sleepily, squeezing Yaten tightly. Yaten sighed. It was going to be a very, very long night. ******************** The dream was the same as before. The soldier was with her again, in the palace gardens. Only this time, he looked fresher, less rotted, less dead. But then again, he had only been dead for four days, so the maggots hadn't begun to show yet . . . Yaten blinked at him. "I haven't seen you for four nights. Where have you been?" The soldier shrugged. "Dead. But then again, I was dead before." "I'm sorry." For the first time in a long time, Yaten felt tears threatening at the corners of her treacherous eyes. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't even remember the stupid dream long enough to--" "Don't worry. It's okay." The soldier's eyes were sorrowful, but strangely accepting, fatalistic. "Don't feel sorry for me. I never felt sorry for me, anyway. It's YOU, the living, that deserve pity. Because you have only provided your enemy more opportunities to make your lives more miserable than you could possibly imagine." "I can imagine a lot of misery." Yaten's thoughts turned dark. "I'm a failure as a clairvoyant, I'm sleeping in a bed with a drunken lunatic who won't stop crying, my body is probably being molested by Maker as we speak, and to top it all off, I've managed to get the Queen angry at all three of us--" "Don't be too hard on yourself. It's not your fault that you weren't meant to be a clairvoyant." "Don't remind me," Yaten moaned, burying her face in her hands. "And the Queen isn't really mad at any of you. But she's very upset. She's upset because she can see that your two friends are in pain, but there's nothing that she can do about it. And in one case, horribly enough, there's not much that she *wants* to do about it. She's terribly jealous of Princess Serenity, but only in secret, mind you. She's afraid that if she attempts to comfort Seiya, she will only betray her own emotions. At the same time, it tears her up inside, watching Seiya mourn like this. Not only because she loves Seiya and doesn't want to see her in pain, but also because - and this would make anybody feel guilty, when they realize that's how they feel - but also because she wishes that Seiya would just forget about Serenity, would just not devote so much of her heart and soul to that other girl." Yaten peeked one eye out from underneath her hands. It was a sort of childish gesture, but she didn't care. "Say, you seem to know an awful lot about Kakyuu. Where did you get all the information, anyway?" He shrugged, again. "Hey, it's pretty boring, being dead. Sometimes I snoop around inside people's dreams, although I really shouldn't be." "Like now? Are you snooping around inside my dreams?" "Yes." "Why?" He blushed, slightly. It was a gruesome sight, seeing a dead man blush. "I like you," he said softly. Oh, of course. Yaten should have known. Only a lovestruck suitor would be foolish enough to send her clairvoyant warnings from beyond the grave. But something still bothered her, niggling persistently at the back of her mind. "You said that dead people were bored. But aren't you, um, you know, supposed to be in Heaven, or something?" "Well . . . " He blushed, even deeper. "First, I'm going to hang around the palace for the next two months or so, so that I can travel back in time to your dreams in the past, and warn you. It would be nice, if in one alternative reality or another, I could actually succeed in preventing my own death. But then I would have never been dead to warn you in the first place, and I will have succeeded also in creating a lovely time paradox. So it's probably not worth the trouble. Anyway, I figured I'd stick around and haunt the military barracks, because it's a shame to have such lovely old barracks without any decent ghosts hanging around, you know what I mean? I want to watch over my little sister, to make sure that she gets a good boyfriend. And after that, maybe I'll go to Heaven. The angels have certainly been calling my name, at least. So I know I'm welcome there. But Heaven lasts for an eternity, and this earthly plane is only around for so long. I have some loose ends to tie up, before I leave." "I'm sorry," Yaten said again, rather lamely. It was the only thing that she could think of to say. "If we could have saved you, you would still be alive, you wouldn't have all those loose ends to worry about . . . " "I told you. Don't be sorry." He blew her a kiss, a whiff of earthen grave and rot puffing toward her face. "When you wake up in the morning, you must plan to fight your new enemy. Me, I won't bother to trouble you again. Goodbye, Lady Senshi." " . . . Goodbye," she responded quietly. It was a little sad, saying goodbye to him. "And remember," he said as the dream world faded around them, "this is the Garden of the Dead." ******************** Kou Yaten awoke, blinking in the bright morning sunlight. Maker, still transformed, was sleeping deeply beside her, her arms still wrapped around Yaten's waist. Seiya was asleep, too, snoring loudly, her face still buried in the pillow. It was a wonder that she hadn't suffocated during the night. There were real tears now, in the corners of Yaten's eyes. She blinked again, and they slid down her cheeks, slowly. She remembered the dream, this morning. She remembered every last detail of it. - end part three -