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Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy, Chapter 1

The Girl Behind The Makeup Counter

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

Author’s Note: Unless otherwise specified, the chapters in this story should be considered stand-alone. They do not necessarily follow one after the other, and it is up to you, the reader, to decide if they occur in the same universe, or if each one of them happens in its own, or a combination of the two. What is fanfiction, after all, if not the celebration of our ability to interpret works of fiction as we wish?

Also, I might occasionally take some liberties with the source material.

            Usagi slipped on her favourite pair of sleek, black thigh-highs, finishing just as she heard a knock on her door. She went down the stairs and opened to find Ami.

            “Oh good, you’re ready!” Ami exclaimed with relief, “I was worried we were going to be late.”

            “Nope!” Usagi assured her a bit sheepishly, “Ready on time… for once. Is everyone else in the cab?”

            “Yep! Just waiting on our fearless leader,” Ami replied jokingly.

            “You knew I was going to take the longest to get ready, didn’t you?” Usagi asked rhetorically.

            “Can neither confirm nor deny,” Ami answered with a mock straightforwardness.

            “Either way, let’s get going. You know how Calaveras gets when we’re late to these things,” Usagi warned, more to herself than to anyone else. She stepped out the door and closed it most of the way, before yelling to her parents, “Heading out to the party now, I’ll be back way later than you’re comfortable with!” She closed and locked the door behind her, and bolted to the cab before any reprisal could occur.

            The air was cool and heavy, the kind of late spring evening that infused you with a sense of hope and possibility. The full moon shone brightly over Tokyo, casting a light that was distinctly night time, but ever-present enough to enhance everyone’s sense that the evening was only just beginning.

            “Scooch over,” Ami told Rei, who was sharing the back seat with Mako, who had already instinctively leaned toward the window of the door furthest from the house.

            “Gross, I have to sit next to her?” Rei protested.

            “Haha, we do get on, don’t we?” Ami laughed facetiously, with just the right amount of firmness in her voice to make it clear that what she meant was, “Would you please shut the fuck up?”

            “Like the very best of friends,” Rei sighed, rolling her eyes and moving to the middle seat.

            Ami took her seat in the front.

            “Where’s Mina?” Usagi asked.

            “Had to pay the driver extra to let me do this, but I’m having the time of my life!” came Minako’s voice from the trunk.

            “I have no trouble believing that,” quipped Ami as the driver took off.

            “I’ve been looking so forward to this all week,” Mako beamed, “No one throws a party like the Spectre Sisters.”

            “I’m just glad we’re still able to keep in touch with them,” Ami remarked, “I mean, they basically left their entire lives behind to do the right thing, it can’t be easy to just boot your entire life back up after that. It’s nice to be able to be a part of their social circle, I’m sure rebuilding it isn’t easy.”

            “Having their own business probably doesn’t hurt,” Mako suggested, “Still, I take your point.”

            The Sailor Scouts all stared out the window contentedly for a few minutes until they got there. They paid the cab driver and walked up the front door to the house that the Spectre Sisters shared.

            “You made it!” Petz exclaimed, opening the door and excitedly hugging the first warm body she could reach, which happened to be Minako.

            “Wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Usagi proclaimed.

            “We brought Doritos!” Ami offered, holding up a trio of bags.

            Petz ushered them through the front door, into the living room, where the party had already begun. The other Sisters had set up a Twister mat on the floor, and were currently gathered around the karaoke machine. Calaveras was giving her best shot to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Her English wasn’t great, but her singing voice was strong, settling comfortably into the sultry, crooning range of the original. She was just coming to the end when everyone arrived.

            “That was absolutely fantastic!” Mina exclaimed, “That’s a tough one to get just right, but you absolutely nailed it.”

            “You’re just saying that,” Calaveras grinned.

            “No, she’s right,” Rei laughed, “And would I bullshit you?”

            “Can’t argue with that,” Berthier grinned.

            “No, I suppose I can’t,” Calaveras sighed happily.

            “Welcome to the party,” Koan announced, “Strong Zero?”

            “We’re underage!” Usagi objected.

            “Hey, just because we aren’t bad guys anymore doesn’t mean I can’t engage in a little corruption of a minor,” Koan protested.

            “Hard disagree,” Mako responded.

            “Fine, there’s soda and iced tea in the fridge,” Koan relented with a smirk.

            “I’ll grab drinks,” Mako offered.

            “You know what we all like,” Mina chimed in.

            “Okay, now one of you absolutely has to be next at karaoke,” Berthier insisted.

            “Definitely not me,” Rei insisted harder.

            “I nominate Usagi,” Mina piped up.

            “Oh, I absolutely second this,” Rei grinned.

            “Is this like a good nomination or a so-bad-it’s-good nomination?” Petz asked.

            “Let’s find out together,” Rei smirked.

            “I can do this!” Usagi exclaimed determinedly.

            “That’s the spirit!” Ami responded supportively.

            “Yes, yes it is,” Rei laughed.

            “Okay, now I’m really hoping she’s actually good at this,” Mako remarked, “Rei, you know I love you, but I’m kind of pulling for that smirk to be wiped off your face.”

            “What do you want to sing?” Berthier asked.

            “Do… do you have Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover?” Usagi asked.

            “Are we just going to sing American songs all night?” Rei complained.

            “We’ve been here for, like, a song and a half,” Mako retorted.

            “I’m just saying, if I don’t hear some goddamn Malice Mizer by the end of the night, one of you fuckers is going down,” Rei joked.

            “So Rei’s next,” Koan laughed.

            “Challenge accepted,” Rei responded nonchalantly, her competitive spirit overcoming her hatred of karaoke.

            “Anyway, yes, we do have Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover,” Petz responded, queuing the song up.

            “You sure you don’t want a Strong Zero?” Koan asked.

            “Immensely,” Ami answered for her.

            Usagi stepped to the front of the room and grabbed the microphone nervously. The music began to play. When it came time, Usagi began to sing, softly and timidly at first, but as the song progressed, she found her footing. To approximately half the room’s surprise, she was… fine. Nothing special, but she carried the tune adeptly, and her voice was pleasant to listen to. She got a little pitchy during the chorus, but she held her own. When it was over, she put the microphone down gently and joined everyone else in the centre of the room.

            “Damn, that was really good,” Mako remarked.

            “Yeah, girl, consider my words eaten,” Rei laughed, patting her on the back supportively.

            “Oh, you’re still next,” Berthier grinned.

            “Goddamn right I am,” Rei responded determinedly. She then proceeded to get up in front of everyone and deliver an equal parts terrifying and impressive rendition of Kioku de Sora. When she was done, everyone needed a good minute to recover.

            “Hookay, I think that’s a good place to end that,” Petz suggested, a little shell-shocked, “Who’s up for Twister?”

            Ami took over refereeing duties. With eight players on the mat, they had to forego the usual rule of only one player per circle. It was a hazy, chaotic mess, with all eight women stubbornly refusing to go down, their flexibility honed by years of combat, some of it against each other, which seemed to create an undercurrent of old rivalry being renewed. Arguably without even realizing they were doing it, the game settled into Spectre Sisters vs. Sailor Scouts. Finally, Mina was the first to go down, taking Koan down with her as she fell. They were both pretty sure this was by accident, and sat on the couch next to each other, watching the rest of the game with laughter, and cheering on their friends.

Berthier followed soon after. Rather than sitting on the couch next to Mina and Koan, she walked out the front door, looking a bit dejected. Usagi noticed, and in her distraction, her left arm slipped out from under her and she fell, chin-first onto the mat.

“And she’s down!” Rei cheered, “Who had her making it all the way to the middle of the pack? No one? Literally no one on the face of the Earth? Upset of the century!”

“Rei, did you take Koan up on the offer of a Strong Zero?” Ami asked.

“I took Koan up on the offer of four Strong Zeroes,” Rei replied, “That’s right, you fuckers can’t even keep up with me drunk.”

“I’ll be right back,” Usagi said, with a seriousness in her voice that everyone immediately registered as a bit out of tone with the rest of the party. For a second, it imbued the room with a dourness, but it quickly dissipated as they returned to their game.

Usagi grabbed her iced tea and stepped out the front door. The cool air hit her again, carrying with it a steeliness that was at once urgent and hopeful for resolution. She saw Berthier sitting on the steps, staring off into the distance, a sullen look on her face. Usagi sat beside her.

“I know you can’t be that upset over being eliminated from a game of Twister,” she probed gently, “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Berthier assured her unconvincingly, “Just out here to catch some air.”

“It’s okay,” Usagi responded, “We spent months fighting each other, most of it we were pretty sure it would be to the death. You’re allowed to have complicated feelings.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing to do with you,” Berthier clarified, “Well, I guess it is something to do with you. It’s not your fault though.”

“What’s not my fault?” Usagi asked.

Berthier considered for a second, weighing whether or not she should answer. “It’s just…” she began, “Nights like tonight really make me think of Atsugessho.”

“Who?” asked Usagi.

“The… makeup monster lady,” Berthier answered.

“Oh right… her…” Usagi responded dejectedly. Her mind was thrown back to that day in the makeup shop, ducking acidic clouds and fearing her luck was about to run out. But beyond the flashback, there was more to her unease. This felt like the other shoe that she hadn’t let herself realize was still yet to drop. Subconsciously, she’d compartmentalized the Spectre Sisters as completely separate from their Droids the second they’d stopped fighting and become friends. Maybe in part it was because it helped her be comfortable with the whole situation, detaching the Sisters from the majority of pain, fear, and exhaustion they’d actually made her feel. But maybe it was because she wasn’t quite ready to reckon with the truth that was making itself impossible to ignore in this moment: That she had killed a surprisingly high number of her friends’ friends.

Berthier pulled her out of her slightly terrified contemplation by continuing. “She used to throw just the most absolutely amazing parties,” Berthier continued, “We’d all hang out and do face masks, get completely shit-faced on Suntory whiskey cocktails, and stay up all night watching Korean dramas and women’s wrestling.”

“Women’s wrestling?” Usagi asked, surprised.

“Oh yeah. Bull Nakano was always our favourite. Not just because of Dumbull. Petz always liked Aja Kong,” Berthier answered.

“Aja Kong is my favourite,” Usagi remarked, “I just never took you guys for wrestling fans.”

“Next January 4^th, we should all go to the Tokyo Dome together,” Berthier suggested.

“Yeah, that’d be awesome,” Usagi responded.

“But yeah, we used to have those parties all the time, usually after a long day of… you know, planning to take over the world and kill all of you,” Berthier continued sheepishly.

These words struck Usagi with a feeling of novelty. Not the part about trying to kill them, she’d come to terms with that long ago. But the idea that they might get tired from doing it, that they needed to blow off steam just like the Sailor Scouts did. She wasn’t really sure what she’d imagined her enemies doing in their down time. Just sitting around thinking of how much they were looking forward to doing evil, she had always just assumed. It was only now that she realized how ridiculous a notion that was.

Berthier continued, “After she died, we kind of just stopped. It didn’t feel right doing them without her. They were her thing, and carrying on like nothing happened just felt like disrespecting her memory.”

Usagi sat with these words for a while. “I’m sorry I killed your friend,” she said softly. She wasn’t sure she meant it, but she felt Berthier’s pain, and knew it was valid. And, for the first time, she wished there had been some other way the situation could have resolved itself all those months ago in the makeup shop.

“Don’t be,” Berthier said bitterly, “We sent her to kill you. You were only acting in self-defense. You didn’t have a choice. She didn’t even have a choice. God, I’m such a fucking asshole.”

“That’s all in the past,” Usagi assured her, “You’re a different person now.”

“I know, I know,” Berthier responded, “It’s just going to take a while to see it that way when I really look back at all the harm we caused.”

“It’s never too late to make up for it,” Usagi promised, “And you’re doing it.”

“You know,” Berthier opined mournfully, her eyes beginning to tear up, “I think that’s the part I regret the most. Not the civilians we harmed; you guys were always too good at what you did, so there was never too much harm to bystanders. What I regret the most is that we marched so many of our friends straight to their deaths. They would have followed us anywhere, and the only place we led them was down the path of evil, to their own demise. They could be here with us now. You know how much fun Atsugessho could have had helping us run our store? Dumbull could be WWWA Women’s Single Champion right now and we’d all be cheering her from the front row. Avocadora was actually really enjoying herself helping us run that grocery store. You know… the one that was actually a front to collect energy. But we could have set her up running an actual fruit stand. She’d be happy the rest of her life. Instead there is no rest of her life. And we did that. And we have to live with that for the rest of our lives. You didn’t have a choice. We did.”

Usagi put an arm around her. “It’s okay to miss them,” she assured Berthier, “But don’t feel responsible for what happened to them. Trust me, as the one fighting them, they really didn’t act like they felt like they were being forced to do anything.”

Berthier shot her an angry glance.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Usagi backpedalled embarrassedly, desperately trying to figure out how to rephrase what she meant. “I just mean you were all caught up in the same thing. None of you realized what you were doing was wrong, all of you were answering to someone. And yeah, it sucks that they didn’t get the same chance you did, to see the light and change your ways, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You just made it out alive and they didn’t.”

“I guess you’re right,” Berthier said, “I just really wish they could be here right now.”

They both sat in silence and watched the moon for a while. Berthier’s mind was more settled, but Usagi’s wasn’t at all. She couldn’t help but wonder if Berthier was wrong, if maybe she and the other Scouts did have a choice, at least some of the time. Did she always look for the opportunity to end a fight without killing her enemies? Did she offer every foe the same chance she’d offered the Spectre Sisters, and Ail and An before them? She wasn’t so sure.

“Look,” she offered, “I’m not so sure you should hold me completely blameless in all this.”

“What do you mean?” Berthier asked.

“That night, in the makeup shop, it really was kill or be killed,” Usagi explained, “But I can’t say for sure that I never killed one of your friends who I couldn’t have reasoned with instead. Maybe there were times when I acted too hastily.”

“You were a scared teenager in the middle of a war,” Berthier assured her.

“And so were you!” Usagi countered, “Minus the teenager part, I guess.”

“So then offer yourself the same forgiveness you just told me to offer myself,” Berthier suggested.

“Maybe we both need to try to do better in the future,” Usagi pondered, “And to make up for our past mistakes.”

“Maybe everyone does,” Berthier offered.

“A toast,” Usagi offered, holding up her can of iced tea, “To absent friends.”

Usagi and Berthier drank together.

“Now let’s get back inside,” Berthier advised, “It smells like Koan is breaking out the weed, and you do not want to leave her unsupervised and high.”

Usagi laughed internally, imagining Koan desperately trying to pass the joint to no takers. Then a sudden realization hit her. “Oh fuck, Rei!” she exclaimed.

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy, Chapter 2

Is It Ever Too Late?

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter, except RAN. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

This chapter spawned a spin-off, found here: https://archiveofourown.info/works/45695080/chapters/114991489 It's probably my best work on this site. 

            Kyameran smiled a devilish smile. She had Sailor Moon right where she wanted her. She readied her camera-arm. “I hope you’re ready for your close-up!” she exclaimed. Wait, that’s the line I went with? she thought. Oh well, no one would be around to remember it anyway.

            She fired a beam of light at her enemy, from the eye on her hand. Sailor Moon, to her horror, leapt into the air, sending the beam straight into the mirror behind her and back at Kyameran.

            The pain was excruciating. It felt as though her whole body was on fire, and she could feel the eye on her hand pop out and fall to the floor. She had never experienced anything like this in her life, and she could only imagine how much worse it was about to get. She caught a look at herself in the mirror. She had been badly disfigured; her flesh looked half-melted. This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good.

            “Oh no!” she exclaimed weakly, “Caught inside my own camera! No, this can’t be! I won’t let this happen!” She pounded her fist against the mirror, shattering it. An effective gesture of her rage, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. She couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

            “What you’ve done is unforgiveable!” Sailor Moon proclaimed, pulling her tiara off her head and fashioning it into the weapon she had used to kill countless Youma.

            Kyameran clenched her jaw and snapped to attention, letting out a grunt of pain, trying to hide her panic behind steely determination. It was not working.

            “Moon Tiara Action!” Sailor Moon proclaimed, before throwing the lethal weapon in Kyameran’s direction.

            Kyameran felt every muscle in her body tense up as she tried, and failed, to come to grips with the fact that this was the end. In a few moments, she would feel the agony of her body ripping apart, possibly an even worse feeling than she had just experienced, and then there would be no more. No more pain, no more satisfaction, no more her. She braced for impact.

            Sailor Moon, meanwhile, prepared herself for this to be over. She wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of hearing anyone scream out in pain, even a Youma from the Dark Kingdom, but she knew that, in a few seconds, the threat to mankind would be eliminated, and, hopefully, her friends would be brought back with it.

            But to both of their surprise, there were no screams, no blinding flash of light. All either of them heard was the clink of metal striking metal, and the bloosh of something dropping into the pool a few feet away. Kyameran couldn’t help but breathe a sign of relief, even if she still wasn’t sure what was going on, or sure if she had any chance of surviving it.

Kyameran and Sailor Moon both turned to face the source of the first sound. A figure stood between them, brandishing a baseball bat. The figure was lithe, clad in a flowing white robe, with equally flowing, golden hair. Their face was delicate, meticulously made-up, with a generous helping of sparkling purple eyeshadow creating a smokey eye look that extended beyond their eyelids. Their body was toned, but flat, making them hard to place as male or female. They placed the bat over their shoulder, and with a wink, made it disappear. They spoke in a deep, yet feminine voice.

“Is it really, though?” they asked.

“What?” Sailor Moon asked, confused.

“Oh, right,” the stranger replied, “Sorry, the last thing you said was ‘What you’ve done is unforgiveable’, and then from my perspective I’ve just been sitting here waiting for my cue, while from both of your perspectives a bunch more, way more important stuff just happened, so I’m guessing neither of you remember the last thing that was said, because, I mean, why would you? So I’ll ask again, is what she’s done really unforgiveable? I mean, you say that so often, I wonder what your basis for comparison is.”

“Did… did you just quote David Bowie in Labyrinth?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Pretty much constantly for most of the past decade, yes,” the stranger responded.

“Look, if the Dark Kingdom thinks sending a second enemy will save them from justice, you’ve got another thing coming!” Sailor Moon insisted defiantly.

“Dark Kingdom?” the stranger responded incredulously, “Oh no, I’m firmly on the side of this universe.”

Hearing this sent a wave of panic through Kyameran. “What is this?” she demanded, “The Sailor brat has me dead to rights, so she sends one of her lackeys to engage in this bullshit theatre just to drag my death out? Is that what’s happening? Make me think for half a second that I might be spared just to make it all the worse when you finally put the knife in?”

“Oh no, oh god no!” the stranger answered, taken aback and a bit offended, “What on Earth would make you think that?”

“You just said you were on her side,” Kyameran said through gritted teeth, struggling to fully upright herself.

“Oh no, I have no agenda here,” the stranger said, “Well, I guess that’s not exactly true. If I had no agenda at all, I wouldn’t be here. What I mean is that I have no dog in this fight. I’m not on either of your sides, per se. My only agenda is the proliferation of joy and the minimization of suffering.”

The stranger turned to Sailor Moon. “Which usually makes me quite a fan of yours,” they assured her, “But I can’t help but think you’re about to do something that runs quite contrary to your usual effect on the world.”

“What, defeating a Youma, sent by the Dark Kingdom to hurt innocent people?” Sailor Moon asked incredulously.

“No, actually,” the stranger insisted, “What you’ve just described is what you’ve already done, not what you’re about to do.”

“I don’t get it,” Sailor Moon admitted.

“Look at her,” the stranger elaborated, “She is already defeated. Her goddamn eye popped out, for god’s sake. She’s totally powerless, and in case you didn’t notice, you also made her look like a damn melted candle. I think you’ve done enough.”

Kyameran felt a mixture of gratitude at the suggestion that she be shown mercy, and anger at the idea that she should be pitied.

“No,” Sailor Moon insisted, “She’s evil, and she has to be eliminated.”

“And what would that benefit the world?” the stranger asked, “What suffering would be prevented if she’s already powerless? If she left the room right now and went out into the world, I’m not sure she could win a fight with a small child, let alone aid Queen Beryl in her plans.”

“She still has Kijin’s energy!” Sailor Moon countered, “And everyone is still trapped in photographs!”

“Yes, and so I’m not suggesting you just let her go, no questions asked,” the stranger elaborated, briefly sending a shiver down Kyameran’s spine, “All of that will have to be undone. But you have an opportunity to do something much better than kill her: talk to her.”

Sailor Moon thought about it for a second, but it was ridiculous. Talk to a Youma? What good could that possibly do? “Look, are you going to tell us just who the hell you are?” she asked.

“Right, an introduction, probably should have led with that,” they responded, “My name is Regulus Aurelia Nihilus. Not that Regulus, though. Oh, wait, you haven’t met him yet.”

“What do you mean ‘yet’?” Sailor Moon asked, “Are you a time traveller?”

“Oh no, I don’t mess around with time travel,” Regulus answered, “Too many paradoxes, weird rules, no, I try to experience time as linearly as possible. That was more a prediction than anything else.”

“Oh, I think it’ll pan out,” Kyameran grinned bitterly.

Regulus continued, “One of my colleagues did bring me a gift from the future, once, though.”

“The secret to world peace?” Sailor Moon asked.

“An all-purpose pass for when the Dark Kingdom finally takes over this world?” Kyameran asked.

“Neither of those things,” Regulus answered, “It occurs to me I probably set expectations too high with that set-up. No, a copy of Steven Wilson’s To The Bone album. You know, the guy from Porcupine Tree? This one song, Pariah, oh god, you’ve got to check it out. I don’t have it with me though, so I guess you’ll just have to wait until 2017 like everyone else.”

Sailor Moon and Kyameran both glanced at each other and shared a shrug as if to say, “Do you get this fucking guy? I don’t get this fucking guy.” But then they remembered they were still trying to kill each other, and looked away sharply.

“Anyway, my friends call me RAN, for short,” Regulus continued, “And I consider everyone my friends, so feel free to call me RAN!”

Kyameran stood there, trying to take this all in. She’d been relatively silent, which she couldn’t help but think was probably to her benefit. She was hearing that there was a way out of this for her, but she still didn’t trust any of it. And she was becoming increasingly frustrated with this RAN person’s ramblings and tangents. But if she played her cards just right, maybe there was a morning after in her future.

“So if you aren’t a time traveller, what are you?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” RAN beamed, “So, you know how you and your friends are of the Solar System?”

“Yes,” Sailor Moon responded.

“Well I… am of the cosmos!” RAN elaborated with a dramatic flourish. “I think there’s a song in there somewhere. Wait, there was a song. Big Star. But then I think I’m thinking of the This Mortal Coil version. Man, weren’t they just the best?”

“Never heard of them,” Sailor Moon responded flatly.

“Oh, you’ve got to check them out. “They were this collection of musicians assembled by the 4AD label, and they—”

“Can you stay on fucking topic?” Sailor Moon interrupted angrily, surprising herself. She almost never cursed like that.

“Right, sorry,” RAN apologized sincerely, “Anyway, I was initially just here to plant the idea in your heads of talking to each other, but since it doesn’t look like either of you are particularly interested in doing it on your own, I’m going to have to facilitate.”

“I’m not talking to her!” Kyameran erupted, “Little bitch is standing between the Dark Kingdom and the glory we so richly deserve! And she did this to me!”

“Why should we listen to you anyway?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Because of this,” RAN responded, before snapping their fingers. The entire room, save where they were standing, was instantly engulfed in flames. They snapped their fingers again, and not only were the flames gone, everything in the room was untouched, like it hadn’t just been on fire. “Cosmic power, bitches. Oh, not bitches like in a gendered way! Just a figure of speech. Sorry! That wasn’t cool of me.”

Sailor Moon and Kyameran both stared silently in response. The whole “bitches” thing had completely gone over their heads, as they were too busy focusing on the fact that the whole room had been engulfed in flame only seconds earlier.

“Now, sit,” RAN continued, waving their hand and conjuring up three upholstered Victorian chairs.

“I still don’t see what you think will come of—” Sailor Moon began.

“Sit!” RAN repeated more forcefully.

Kyameran complied, but Sailor Moon remained upright.

“Look,” she argued, “I can appreciate that you want to see the good in everyone, but Kyameran is a monster. A Youma from the Dark Kingdom, bent on the destruction of everything we hold dear.”

“In the most literal sense, I don’t disagree with you,” RAN replied, “But where we differ is that you choose to regard that as all she is, whereas I ask only that you remain open-minded enough to hold the possibility that you could be wrong.”

“I am not a monster!” Kyameran protested, “I’m just trying to bring the Dark Kingdom back to prominence. The glory of which you can’t possibly comprehend! This little harlot is the monster! Look what she did to me! No remorse! And she was about to kill me before you showed up!”

“I was about to kill you to protect the millions of innocents here in Tokyo and around the world!” Sailor Moon insisted.

“Mmm, were you?” RAN asked, “Without her camera-arm, what was she going to do, beat them to death one by one with a traffic cone?”

“We don’t know what she could have done!” Sailor Moon responded, “We only know what she wanted to do, which was cause more harm to innocent people.”

“Is this true?” RAN asked.

“Of—of course not!” Kyameran answered.

“You can say yes and it won’t hurt your chances of making it out of here alive,” RAN clarified.

“Oh god yes, I was going to go straight back to the Dark Kingdom and try to get fixed up so I could start this all over again,” Kyameran admitted.

“See?” Sailor Moon argued.

“I already knew that was true,” RAN acknowledged, “But you’re still missing my greater point that the ‘is’ is not the ‘must be’ or the ‘will always be’.”

“In this case it is!” Sailor Moon countered.

“Look, all I ask is that you entertain my point of view for a few minutes. So please, sit,” RAN pleaded.

“Fine,” Sailor Moon conceded, “Only if you promise that, when it doesn’t work, you won’t keep this up forever.”

“My intention is not to keep you trapped here indefinitely,” RAN offered, “Interpret that as you will.”

Kyameran’s breath quickened at this answer. Did her fate depend on her Kingdom’s most sworn enemy suddenly having a change of heart? Meanwhile, Sailor Moon was no more settled by the answer. Did RAN intend to let her go but not let her kill Kyameran? Or did RAN intend to kill her if she didn’t go along with this?

“I’m not going to kill you,” RAN clarified.

“Are you a mind-reader?” Sailor Moon asked.

“No, I’m just way better at realizing how the things I say sound after I say them than I am before or during my saying them,” RAN answered honestly, “Now please, sit down. I promise this will be worth it.”

Sailor Moon remained unconvinced, but she sat down anyway. It seemed like the path of least resistance.

“Now, tell us about yourself,” RAN said to Kyameran.

Sailor Moon rolled her eyes. Kyameran caught this out of the corner of her eye, and snapped. “I serve the Dark Kingdom, and I will destroy the Sailor brat!” she hissed.

“Oh, oh, is that what’s going to happen?” RAN asked rhetorically, “In that case, have at each other.” RAN got up and began to walk toward the door.

“What? No! Please!” Kyameran panicked.

“Really?” Sailor Moon asked excitedly.

“No, obviously that was a bluff,” RAN answered flatly, before turning to Kyameran, “But you. You feel that a few seconds ago? That feeling like you were really in trouble and badly wanted my help? Maybe keep that energy for a while. Because if this really does prove fruitless, I will absolutely acquiesce and let her kill you.”

Kyameran’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean it like that!” RAN scrambled, “Of course I’m not just going to let her kill you. Please don’t feel like you’re on trial right now. All you need to do is try. I promise, things will go well for you if you try.”

Kyameran felt herself relax slightly upon hearing this.

“And you,” RAN continued, turning to Sailor Moon, “Maybe don’t hold that energy. Even in cases where it is necessary to kill someone, you should probably never be that enthusiastic about it.”

Sailor Moon had no response.

“Look, I’m aware the power dynamic of this situation isn’t exactly equal,” RAN acknowledged, “Even without factoring me into the equation. But what I ask of you both is the same thing: Kyameran, I am also asking you to open your mind to the possibility that your preconceptions might not be accurate. So please, play along in that spirit.”

“I’ll try,” Kyameran answered quietly. With or without RAN’s assurances, she was beginning to suspect that she was not actually going to make it out of this alive, and that the only thing standing between her and oblivion was the temporary ramblings of a naïve celestial, too powerful to have endured the hardships that allowed most people to develop realism. They could say that all she had to do was try all they wanted, no amount of trying was going to change the fact that Sailor Moon had to be eliminated, and the Dark Kingdom had to rise again.

“So, tell us about yourself,” RAN repeated.

“Well, my name is Kyameran, I’m 43 years old, Youma age really slowly,” she began, laughing nervously.

“Wait, so then how old was Morga?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Several hundred years old,” Kyameran answered, “None of us were ever really sure. I think that’s why we kept inviting her to stuff even though none of us really liked her.”

“None of you liked her?” Sailor Moon asked.

“She could be… intense,” Kyameran answered, “It’s like, we get it, we’re the dark force trying to take over the world and resurrect our all-powerful and glorious leader, but do you really need to keep behaving like a ghoul even when we’re just out for a beach day?”

RAN beamed internally at how naturally the conversation was flowing, but they dared not comment on it. This was how any two people behaved when earnestly trying to have a conversation, but that didn’t mean they’d put their differences aside just yet. “Tell us more about yourself,” they urged.

“I… I guess I really like Tina Turner?” Kyameran offered.

“Everyone does, that doesn’t count as a personal detail,” RAN deadpanned.

“I… I don’t know! What do you want to know about me? What should I say?” Kyameran asked, flustered.

In this moment, Sailor Moon couldn’t help but notice that she was, on some level, rooting for Kyameran. RAN was being kind of a dick. Kyameran was an evil monster who needed to be put down for the good of the world, but there was no reason to torment her, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Anything, I was joking,” RAN responded to Kyameran’s sputtering questions.

“I… I guess I have a pet bat?” Kyameran offered.

“What’s their name?” RAN asked, suddenly taken off-track with their therapist gambit at the prospect of learning more about a possibly adorable little bat.

“Lord Fuzzball,” Kyameran answered, “He’s got the cutest little nose, and he loves to eat mosquitoes, and he always comes when I sing!”

“Do… do you have pictures?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Did you forget who you’re talking to? Of course I have pictures,” Kyameran retorted, reaching a hand into her top and pulling out a roll of photos.

“Ohmigod, he’s so cute!” Sailor Moon exclaimed.

“You can keep those if you like, I have more copies at home,” Kyameran offered, before having a sudden burst of self-awareness, “Wait, no! Give those back!”

“Fine, it’s not like you’re going home anyway,” Sailor Moon retorted.

“So close,” RAN lamented, “But think about that. The two of you were just conversing like normal people for a few seconds. I know that isn’t going to change everything in an instant, but doesn’t it at least count for something?”

Sailor Moon thought over this for a second. She had to admit, there was at least a tiny glimmer of truth to what RAN was saying. Five minutes ago, she wouldn’t have thought of Kyameran as the type of person, the type of being even, that could have something like a pet. It surprised her to learn that Kyameran was capable of affection. For the first time, she felt a pang of sadness at the realization that she was going to kill Kyameran at the end of this exchange. She realized how unfortunate it was that she had to die. And she decided, at least for the duration of this doomed experiment, that she would be as civil to her as possible.

Kyameran, meanwhile, was having none of this. What had RAN proven? Nothing she didn’t already know, that Sailor Moon was nothing more than a ditzy schoolgirl, easily distracted by shiny objects or cute pets. The whole exchange did nothing, other than to remind her how desperately she wanted to get out of this, to see her Lord Fuzzball again. To see her friends. She also cursed the fact that she had briefly been sucked into this ridiculous ploy, fawning over her sworn enemy like she’d suddenly forgotten what she stood in the way of, and like her whole body didn’t still ache with the consequences of what this stupid girl had done to her. Would her camera weapon ever return? Would her wounds heal? Did any of it matter, or was she mere minutes from death anyway?

“Tell us about growing up,” RAN asked Kyameran.

“I… I guess my childhood was nothing special,” Kyameran answered reluctantly, “I was created by Queen Beryl like all the other Youma, spent my early years in training—”

“And what was that like?” RAN asked.

“You know, the standard, fitness drills, private sessions to hone my special abilities,” Kyameran elaborated.

“The camera arm?” RAN offered.

“Right, the camera arm. I didn’t come right out of the ground as good at wielding it as I am now,” she responded.

“You almost got me with it, like, a billion times,” Sailor Moon admitted.

“Damn right I did,” Kyameran smirked.

“Tell me more about the training,” RAN requested.

“Well, you know, they’d start out with stationary targets, move on to smaller and moving targets, until I got the hang of it,” Kyameran explained.

“And if you didn’t get the hang of it?” RAN asked.

“I always got the hang of it,” Kyameran answered.

“What happened if you missed too much?” RAN probed.

“They’d hit me, of course,” Kyameran answered, matter-of-factly.

“They’d hit you?” Sailor Moon blurted out.

“Well yeah, how else do you correct a young one?” Kyameran responded.

“I don’t know, bad grades, detention, make them write lines, assign a tutor, tons of ways!” Sailor Moon insisted, “You only get hit if you do something bad!”

Or, you know, never, thought Ran to themselves, How can a planet have invented the Internet and still not done away with corporal punishment?

“Missing the target is doing something bad,” Kyameran countered.

“No, like, something wrong. Something mean or sneaky. Something that was your fault, that you did on purpose,” Sailor Moon elaborated.

“I… I learned well from the methods my superiors used to teach me,” Kyameran insisted.

“But you shouldn’t have had to!” Sailor Moon objected, “I mean, the Sailor Scouts never had to learn by being abused!”

“Abused? Their methods helped shape me into the warrior I am!” Kyameran insisted.

“Their methods made you a monster!” Sailor Moon countered.

“What would you know about my training?” Kyameran shouted.

“Enough to have kicked your ass!” Sailor Moon retorted.

“You got lucky!” Kyameran insisted.

“Oh yeah? You wanna go again?” Sailor Moon challenged, “You and me, right now, no camera arm, no tiara, just a good old fashioned fight!”

Kyameran upended her chair and stood up. Sailor Moon rose to her feet to meet her, and the two of them stepped forward, with their fists raised to their face line in classic fight pose. RAN watched on intently.

As the two closed distance, Kyameran lunged forward, and Sailor Moon caught her with a spinning back kick to the side of her jaw. Kyameran’s head jolted to the side from the impact of the kick, looking for a second almost as though it was independent from her body, until her body followed suit, flying in the direction of the kick’s momentum and crumpling in a heap on the floor. Sailor Moon dropped her guard, thinking the fight over, but Kyameran stood back up and charged forward again. Sailor Moon flipped her with a Judo throw, then kept hold of her arm, and wrapped one of her own legs under Kyameran’s shoulder, and the other around her neck, bringing her legs to meet and trapping Kyameran in a choke. Sailor Moon prepared to feel Kyameran either submit or go limp, but instead, she felt her own leg slide unexpectedly, and heard a squelching sound. One of the wounds created by Kyameran’s own camera attack had ruptured, on her face, and dark purple blood was seeping out.

Sailor Moon immediately released the hold and scrambled to her feet. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry, oh my god, are you okay?” she stammered. She offered Kyameran a hand up.

“Get away!” Kyameran exclaimed, swatting the hand away. She put her head in her hands, “Oh my god, I’m such a failure. I can’t believe this.”

“You’re not a failure,” Sailor Moon assured her, “You’ve been failed.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Kyameran yelled, “You don’t know anything about what it was like to grow up in the Dark Kingdom! You know nothing about our plans, how great everything will be once we take over! They might have been tough on me, but it made me who I am!”

“You just called yourself a failure,” Sailor Moon pointed out, “Did they make you a failure?”

“No,” Kyameran insisted, “I failed on my own. Maybe if I’d listened to them more, maybe if I’d taken my training more seriously, I’d have been able to take you.”

“Do you know how many Youma I’ve killed?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Yes, I am deeply, intimately fucking aware of how many of my friends you burned alive with that stupid piece of jewelry!” Kyameran responded.

“Okay, maybe bad choice of argument on my part,” Sailor Moon acknowledged, “But the point is, not one of you has been able to beat me. At a certain point, it’s not the individuals who are failing, it’s the system.”

“No!” Kyameran denied, “You must have fought dirty, got lucky every time. There’s no way they all failed on their own.”

“They didn’t fail on their own,” Sailor Moon countered, “Queen Beryl failed them when she signed off on sending them into battle with me.”

“Don’t you talk about my queen like that!” Kyameran demanded.

“Don’t you talk about your friends like that!” Sailor Moon responded, “This might be the first and last time I ever say anything good about the Youma, but every one of them who faced me was dedicated, strong, and had damn good battle instincts. And if Queen Beryl gave a shit about preparing them for battle half as much as she cared about enforcing blind obedience, I might not be here right now! But she didn’t have time, did she? She had to make sure she produced nothing but loyal subjects, otherwise you might have realized you were fighting for a lie, and hurting innocents in the process.”

“Innocents?” Kyameran laughed, “You call the people of this world innocent? This place is a cesspool of cruelty, exploitation, and mindless distraction and indulgence. Maybe we might have to hurt a few people in the process, but you cannot comprehend how worth it it will all be, when we take over. If you survive the war, you’ll thank us, I guarantee it.”

Sailor Moon stood there, struggling with a response, some way to get through to Kyameran how misguided she was.

“And you take that on faith?” RAN interjected, “You already live under Dark Kingdom rule, and so far all it’s gotten you is a set of formative years full of being beaten and abused. What makes you so sure they’ll change after they take over?”

“They have to be tough on us, the mission is just too important!” Kyameran insisted.

“Said every dictatorship in history,” RAN countered, “Don’t you get it? They all promise things will be better once they’re in power, then promise things will get better once they conquer their enemies, then promise everything will get better once they purge the enemy within, and guess what? It never fucking happens.”

Kyameran stood there trying to formulate a response. Sailor Moon had an idea.

“Where’s Jadeite?” Sailor Moon asked.

“He was condemned to eternal sleep,” Kyameran answered, “But he deserved it. He failed too many times.”

“How many times is too many?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Before you answer, don’t just answer how many times Jadeite failed. Think about everyone you’ve seen done away with for ‘failure’,” RAN added.

“It’s… it’s not that simple,” Kyameran answered, “It depends how badly they failed, how high up they rank, what they’ve accomplished before—”

“And where do you fall on that continuum?” RAN asked.

Sailor Moon saw that RAN saw where this was going, and had picked up the rhetorical ball. “You told us earlier that you were hoping to escape and go back to the Dark Kingdom to get fixed up. What do you think is actually going to happen if you go back?” she asked.

“I’m sure they’ll help me,” Kyameran answered.

“You just called yourself a failure,” Sailor Moon pointed out, “They’re the ones who taught you to think that way, what makes you think they won’t think that way themselves?”

Kyameran thought about it for a second, a slight look of horror crossing her eyes. Just as quickly as it came on, her expression changed to one of fury. She picked up her chair and threw it into the mirror behind her. “Shut up!” she screamed, “Shut up, shut up, get out of my head! You won’t manipulate me like this! I fight for the Dark Kingdom and the promise of a better future! Stop trying to take it away from me!”

Sailor Moon thought over her next words carefully. Once said, she couldn’t take them back. And she couldn’t take back what it meant that she believed them. She mulled it over, and decided she had no choice but to go for it.

“You don’t have to be who they made you,” she said softly.

“I love who they made me!” Kyameran screamed hoarsely.

“You love who you made you!” Sailor Moon countered, “You love beach days and your pet bat, and fashion! They didn’t give those things to you, you and your friends found them in the moments they couldn’t steal away from you!”

Kyameran stood there for a second, then dropped to her knees and began to sob. Sailor Moon and RAN both walked over to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders.

“No!” she screamed, “Get away from me!”

“Okay,” RAN offered, “If I promise we’ll drop the subject, can we come back and just talk again? Just like we did at the start.”

“Are you going to let me say no?” Kyameran asked weakly.

“’Fraid not,” RAN responded.

“Fine,” Kyameran conceded.

“Okay, let me just fix this chair,” RAN laughed, bringing a hand up. The chair lifted in the air and returned to its original spot, the tears in its upholstery and damage to its wooden frame repairing themselves on the way. The three of them walked over and sat down, Kyameran more reluctant than the other two. They sat in silence for a minute.

“What’s your favourite beach?” Sailor Moon asked.

“I… I really like the beaches around Nagoya,” Kyameran answered, her words struggling to come out, “Utsumi Beach is probably my favourite.”

“I haven’t been to Nagoya much,” Sailor Moon admitted, “But I do remember the beaches there being really nice.”

“When the weather’s nice, everything’s just perfect. The water, the sand, it’s the best spot to go in for a swim and then lay on the beach, just soaking up the rays,” Kyameran opined, almost longingly.

“It sounds beautiful,” Sailor Moon commented.

“How’s the food in Nagoya?” RAN asked offhandedly.

“Depends where you go,” Kyameran answered, “Kyurene, Castor, Pollux and I used to have this one really great spot to go for Teppanyaki, and Murido and I found this really great ramen shop one time.”

“I’m concerned that I only know two of those names,” Sailor Moon gulped nervously.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re cool,” Kyameran reassured her, without realizing what she was saying. This made Sailor Moon smile, though she did her best to hide it.

“Can I make an observation?” RAN asked.

“Precedent would indicate no, but go ahead and try anyway,” Kyameran replied.

“You’ve been getting progressively less and less tense since we started doing this,” RAN stated, “It would be one thing if it was just one big release, back when I told you I wasn’t going to let her kill you, but it’s been gradual the whole time. You’re holding your shoulders less tightly, your jaw isn’t clenching as much, even when you were so angry earlier.”

Kyameran’s immediate instinct was to deny it, but when she paid attention to it, she realized they were right.

“Can I ask you a question?” RAN asked, “And it’s going to involve me breaking a promise.”

“Sure,” Kyameran responded, at this point genuinely curious where this was going.

“Earlier, when I first showed up, and you thought I’d been sent here by Sailor Moon to mess with your head before she killed you… that’s not a hypothetical for you, is it?” RAN asked.

“What do you mean?” Kyameran asked in response.

“You’ve seen that happen before, haven’t you?” RAN clarified, “Someone sentenced to death, then fooled into thinking they were getting a reprieve, just to make it even worse when they ended up having their death sentence carried out anyway.”

Kyameran said nothing, but her downward glance said more than her words could.

“That’s… not normal,” RAN assured her, “Good leaders don’t torture their own subjects like that. Good leaders don’t torture their subjects at all.”

Kyameran thought on this for a second, then looked even further down. A single tear began streaming down her face, followed by more. Silently, motionlessly, Kyameran sat there crying.

“You don’t have to be who they made you,” Sailor Moon repeated.

Kyameran let out a sob, then buried her face in her hands and let out several more.

Sailor Moon and RAN once again walked over and put a hand on each shoulder. This time, Kyameran didn’t stop them. After a few minutes, RAN chanced putting an arm around her, and to their mild surprise and absolute delight, Kyameran turned in her chair and embraced RAN. They stood like this for a good thirty seconds, before Kyameran returned to her normal seated position.

“I can’t go back, can I?” she asked, rhetorically.

“I don’t think so,” RAN answered.

“I’ve devoted my life to a lie, haven’t I?” she asked.

“Yes,” RAN answered bluntly, yet softly.

Kyameran stared ahead in shock for a few seconds, before turning to Sailor Moon.

“Please don’t kill me,” she urged softly.

“What?” Sailor Moon responded, caught off guard first by the suggestion that she would kill Kyameran, then by the realization of how long it had been since she genuinely intended to kill Kyameran.

“This can’t be my end,” Kyameran insisted, “I can’t let my whole life go by in service of a lie, of someone so horrible, of a cause so evil.”

“I’m… I’m not going to kill you,” Sailor Moon responded honestly.

“Let me bring your friends back,” Kyameran offered, “Do you still have the photos?”

“It might take a minute to collect them all, but they’re all around here,” Sailor Moon responded, getting up and beginning to collect them.

“Let’s see if I can still even do this,” Kyameran confessed, as Sailor Moon returned with the photos.

Kyameran put her hands on the photos and closed her eyes. The photos began to glow, soon becoming fully engulfed in bright, white light, before everyone returned. The photographer, his subjects, Luna, and Sailors Mars and Mercury, all exactly where they had been before they disappeared.

“You’re dead!” exclaimed Sailor Mars, prepping an attack.

“No, stop!” Sailor Moon urged, “She’s… she’s actually on our side now.”

“How?” Sailor Mars asked, more accusatorily than genuinely curiously.

“Who are all these people?” Sailor Mercury asked, before focusing specifically on RAN, “Especially them.”

“Both are a long story,” Sailor Moon answered, “But I promise I’ll get to it later.”

“Not a chance in hell!” Sailor Mars insisted, starting to prep her attack again.

“Mars, stop!” urged Mercury, “Look, I don’t understand it either, but Sailor Moon is our team leader, and, I mean, we had to get back somehow.”

“Thank you,” Sailor Moon chimed in.

“Besides, look at her,” Sailor Mercury said, referring to Kyameran, “It looks like we missed a lot.”

“Thanks,” Kyameran responded sarcastically.

“Look, there’s no way a Youma can just up and decide to be on the side of good!” Mars insisted.

“Yeah, there was a lot more to it than that,” Sailor Moon assured her.

“I’m deferring to you on this one,” Mercury told Sailor Moon.

“I… I guess I am too…” Mars added reluctantly. With the numbers two against one, there wasn’t much point objecting.

“So… what happens now?” Kyameran asked, “I mean, my life basically starts over again now, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Sailor Moon smiled, “And that’s the best thing about it! What happens next? It’s up to you. You could just go on to live a normal life. You said you want to make up for a lifetime of being one of the bad guys, there are plenty of soup kitchens, homeless shelters, and fundraising drives where you could do just that. But if you’re willing to stay in the game just a little longer, we could use your help. You could help us bring down Queen Beryl and the Dark Kingdom. You’re still a hell of a fighter, but more than that, you could help both us and your fellow Youma by talking to them and telling them why you defected. Maybe I won’t have to use the tiara anymore. Speaking of which.”

“Oh, right, here,” RAN said, handing her back her tiara.

“Why did a stranger have your tiara? Please tell me there’s a really good reason a stranger had your tiara!” Sailor Mars said, panicking.

“That part of the story maybe doesn’t have that great an explanation,” Sailor Moon answered sheepishly, “I totally got overpowered and they took it from me. Thankfully they turned out to be one of the good guys. Speaking of which, what do you think, Kyameran?”

“I want to help save my friends,” Kyameran answered, “I’ll fight with you.”

“Great! Now we’ll just have to get you healed up!” Sailor Moon grinned.

“I think I can help with that,” RAN offered, “Luna, what say we skip a few steps ahead in this story?”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

“You know, the you-know-what that lets her use you-know-what,” RAN responded.

“I don’t have it anywhere near me,” Luna admitted.

“Then do you mind if I?” RAN asked, raising a hand and preparing their fingers to snap.

“This is one-time, right?” Luna asked.

“If you want it to be,” RAN responded.

“Alright, I suppose,” Luna acquiesced.

RAN snapped their fingers, and the Moon Stick appeared in the middle of the group.

“What is it?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Pick it up,” RAN suggested.

Sailor Moon picked it up, and her body began to glow.

“This is a very powerful artifact,” Luna answered, “I’ll tell you more when you’re ready to have it full-time. But it can be a very powerful weapon, or it can be a powerful healing tool.”

“How do I use it to heal?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Just yell ‘Moon Healing Escalation!’” Luna instructed her.

“Will do,” Sailor Moon said, “Now, Kyameran, before I do this, you promise you meant what you said?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more,” Kyameran answered.

Sailor Moon took the Moon Stick in her hand and did as advised. Kyameran stumbled, and fell to all fours. Slowly, her wounds began to heal. The dismembered eyeball lifted off the floor, and Kyameran raised her arm up for the eyeball to rejoin. She stood to her feet, and to everyone’s surprise but Luna and RAN, she looked exactly the same as when she had first walked in. The only difference was her demeanor.

“I’m… I’m okay again!” she remarked, amazed, “Or maybe I’m okay for the first time. Thank you all for believing in me, and trusting me enough to not only heal my wounds, but give me back my weapon.”

“I… have a small confession,” RAN remarked, “I really did trust you, mostly, but I knew something none of the rest of you did, except for Luna. If you had been lying, and just telling us what we wanted to hear without an actual change of heart beneath it, that wouldn’t have healed you. It would have killed you.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” Kyameran responded, not being entirely sure whether she was joking or not.

“At least I think that’s how it would work. Maybe it would have healed you regardless. Or for all I knew it would make you not a Youma anymore. I think we got the best of all possible outcomes. But in any case, she trusted you,” RAN assured her, gesturing to Sailor Moon, “And that has to count for something.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Kyameran sighed contentedly. She looked around at the Sailor Scouts, and at Luna, “I guess this is my life now. Oh god, have I stumbled into this too hastily? No, I can’t go back to pretending I don’t know what I know now. So what do we do now?”

“There’s a lot to figure out,” Sailor Moon responded, “You’ll need to find a place to live. And a way to pay for it. Maybe you could take up modeling or photography for real? And you’ll probably want to stay in human disguise when you’re out in public. And at some point, I don’t know how or when, we’re getting you your bat back.”

“It’s all so much to take in,” Kyameran admitted, “For now, can we just get some okonomiyaki and talk it over?”

“Let’s do it!” Sailor Moon agreed enthusiastically, before transforming back into Usagi, “My name’s Usagi, by the way.”

Kyameran started heading toward the door with Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars, now once again Ami and Rei. The latter still didn’t entirely trust her, but it was hard to argue with the results of the Moon Healing Escalation. RAN put a hand on Usagi’s shoulder as she went to leave too.

“A word?” they asked.

“Of course,” Usagi responded.

“First, I’ll need that back,” they asked, pointing to the Moon Stick. Usagi handed it to them, and they clapped their hands and made it disappear again. “Fun fact: I actually don’t have to correlate certain gestures with certain powers, it’s pretty much entirely interchangeable.”

“You must be relaxed, you’ve started rambling again,” Usagi commented.

“One more thing,” RAN added, “Keep an eye on her for the next few days. I do believe she’s sincere in what she says, I would be even if the Moon Stick didn’t prove it. But she’s just made a pretty radical life choice, upended everything. She’s going to need a lot of support in the early days to make sure she doesn’t backslide and try to go back.”

“Understood,” Usagi responded.

“You’re a special person, Tsukino Usagi,” RAN told her, “Maybe some day, you’ll be worthy to be of the cosmos too.”

RAN walked off out the door, loudly singing the opening verse to Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. What struck Usagi as impressive was how they were able to conjure up a backing track too.

RAN stepped outside into the sunlight. It had shaped up to be quite the beautiful day. They curtsied for Rei, Ami, and Kyameran, then walked off just as Usagi was stepping outside. Kyameran ran after RAN.

“Thank you again for everything today,” she said, “I just have to know one thing. Why me? Why not any of the other Youma who Sailor Moon has faced and killed?”

“That’s a very good question, my purple-skinned lovely,” RAN responded, “And please take the answer the right way. But it had very little to do with you. I absolutely adore you, and I’m so happy we got to know each other today, and that you got to walk out alive and renewed, and I’m sure we could have had the same result with any of your friends, but the sad reality is that, as a cosmic being, I just don’t have the time to interject every time, and, although I again think the same result could have been achieved, the sad fact is that Sailor Moon really was acting in self-defense and stopping something horrible from happening every time she fought one of your friends. The reason I interjected in your fight is because that wasn’t true anymore. And for her to be comfortable committing what would be in essence an extrajudicial execution, that would just be step one in a slippery slope that leads to darkness.”

“Huh, so I guess I just got lucky then,” Kyameran lamented.

“You did,” RAN responded, “But that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve it. Now make the best of it. Go to the beach. Sing karaoke. Go dancing. Buy terrible yet irresistible food at a Lawson’s. Do whatever you want. Just, whatever you do… don’t… stop me nooooooooooooow!”

RAN walked off through the streets of Tokyo continuing to sing their very best effort at Freddie Mercury.

Kyameran stared up at the sky. The sun was shining brightly, and a songbird was flying overhead. She knew she was lucky to be alive, lucky to have been forced to acknowledge the pain and fear she’d carried with her her whole life, and lucky to have an opportunity to live beyond it. But mostly, she was filled with a determination to make the most of her second chance. And that is one of the most powerful motivations a person can have.

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy, Chapter 3

The Betrayal of Inaction

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

Author’s Note: Unless otherwise specified, the chapters in this story should be considered stand-alone. They do not necessarily follow one after the other, and it is up to you, the reader, to decide if they occur in the same universe, or if each one of them happens in its own, or a combination of the two. What is fanfiction, after all, if not the celebration of our ability to interpret works of fiction as we wish?

            It was clear that the end was near. After being disoriented by Sailor Mercury’s Bubble Spray attack, then sent reeling by Sailor Mars’ Fire Soul, Thetis was staring at Sailor Moon’s tiara, hurling toward her. But then something unexpected happened. The tiara stopped about a foot from her face, and remained, glowing and hovering in place.

            “Wait, you can do that?” Sailor Mars asked Sailor Moon, “And follow up question, what the fuck are you doing?”

            “Apparently I can,” Sailor Moon responded, “And I’m trying something, just follow my lead.”

            “What is going on?” Thetis demanded to know, still scared out of her wits.

            “I want you to pay attention to something,” Sailor Moon explained, “Behind me, what do you see?”

            “The cabin of the boat?” Thetis asked, confused, “Dozens of unconscious people?”

            “I think you know what I’m asking about,” Sailor Moon insisted.

            “If you’re playing some kind of game to mess with my head, just kill me and get it over with already!” Thetis pleaded angrily.

            “I’m talking about Jadeite,” Sailor Moon continued, “You’re about five seconds from death, and he’s standing there doing nothing.”

            “He—he must not have had time to act!” Thetis proposed.

            “This is time. This is time right now. And he’s doing nothing,” Sailor Moon repeated.

            “Why are you telling me this?” Thetis asked, “Are you just trying to make sure I know that no one cares about me before I die?”

            “I’m telling you this because I don’t think this fight has to end with me killing you at all,” Sailor Moon revealed, “At least maybe.”

            “What?” Sailor Mars blurted out, perplexed.

            “Actually, yeah, what?” Sailor Mercury repeated.

            “Look, I know she’s a Youma,” Sailor Moon half-whispered to both of them, “But I think I see what’s going on here. She’s clearly in love with Jadeite, who, being Jadeite, couldn’t give a damn about her. That’s her whole motivation. She doesn’t realize she’s chasing someone who will never love her back, who’s just using her. Maybe, if we make her see that, we can actually reason with her. And potentially gain a powerful ally. And if it doesn’t work out, I just kill her. Which I can still do at any second.”

            “I think you’ve lost it, but if you insist,” Sailor Mars retorted.

            “If you three are done conspiring amongst yourselves, I’d appreciate knowing just what the fuck is going on here!” Thetis demanded.

            “Look, I know we have our differences,” Sailor Moon responded, “But we have more in common than you think. We’re both on this boat to chase after love. But I want to offer you one chance to see where you’re going wrong! You’ve gotten wrapped up with people who don’t actually care about you! You’re literally staring death in the face, and Jadeite can’t be bothered to lift a finger to help you, because he doesn’t want to have to take on any of the danger, even though he’s probably way more equipped to handle it. He’s using you. The Dark Kingdom is using you.”

            Thetis stared, bewildered, trying to process what she’d just heard.

---

            Thetis and Jadeite stood in the middle of a wrecked ship, looking around.

“So… if this works,” Thetis asked nervously, “We can be together?”

            “What?” Jadeite responded, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

            “That doesn’t seem especially committal,” Thetis observed.

            “Don’t worry about it. So, give me an idea of what this will all look like once you’ve worked your magic,” Jadeite ordered, “Pun not intended.”

            “Can we talk about this?” Thetis asked.

            “Now!” Jadeite thundered.

 ---

            “What are you waiting for?” Jadeite demanded angrily, “Attack them!”

            “She can’t, you dipshit!” Sailor Mars interjected, “Sailor Moon’s tiara is still, like, a foot from her face. But you can. You’re in a much better position to attack than she is. So why don’t you?”

            “It’s… it’s not my job to do the fighting!” Jadeite insisted, “That’s what we have Youma for!”

            “Jadeite, please, help me!” Thetis pleaded.

            “Help your damn self!” Jadeite responded, “This was your plan, see it through!”

            “Please!” Thetis urged.

            “Pathetic,” Jadeite spat.

---

            “This is all your fault!” Jadeite yelled at a cornered and terrified Thetis.

            “My fault?” Thetis countered panickingly, “This was your mission!”

            “You were the one who suggested I use Morga!” Jadeite accused, “And now she’s fucking dead!”

            “How were any of us supposed to know some magical girl was going to show up?” Thetis asked, “Morga seemed like the best candidate for what we thought would be a simple mission.”

            “You thought it would be a simple mission!” Jadeite retorted, “And now Queen Beryl’s on my ass about it! Her oldest and most experienced Youma, dead! How are you going to fix this?”

            “Me?” Thetis asked incredulously, “All I did was suggest Morga! You’re the one who came up with the entire rest of the plan! Why didn’t you send her with backup? Why didn’t you send her with an escape plan if things got hairy? Why didn’t you send her with strict orders to retreat if she encountered any serious opposition? Why didn’t you go with her? Any one of those contingency plans would have saved her life!”

            “Don’t try to blame this on me!” Jadeite yelled, slapping her across the face.

            Thetis looked back at him with an angry expression and eyes full of tears. “Yes master,” she uttered with a defeated tone in her voice.

            “You’ll go to Queen Beryl immediately and take the full blame for what happened,” Jadeite ordered, “You wouldn’t want the man you love getting in trouble, would you? You know she has a soft spot for you. She’ll go easy on you.”

            “Yes master,” Thetis sighed.

 ---

            Thetis looked down, defeated, before staring Jadeite dead in the eye with fire in her eyes. “Queen Beryl will punish you for this!” she charged.

            “Queen Beryl doesn’t give a shit!” Sailor Mars yelled, much to the surprise of everyone, most of all herself.

            “What would you know?” Thetis asked rhetorically, “Queen Beryl is my friend.”

            “Then where is she?” Sailor Mars asked, “We’ve killed nearly a dozen Youma by now, and we’ve never seen her face. If she saw you as anything more than disposable, she’d provide some damn backup.”

            “She didn’t know I was coming,” Thetis insisted, “Jadeite and I planned this privately.”

            “I mean, she does watch us on her crystal ball most of the time,” Jadeite commented, as though practicing his defense for when he inevitably had to justify his actions to the Queen herself.

            “Exactly, thank you Jadeite,” Sailor Moon remarked, “Wait, what the hell did I just say?”

---

            “My Queen,” Thetis began, “I… I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about the prospect of eventually facing off against the Sailor Scouts.”

            “You have nothing to fear,” Queen Beryl responded, “You’re my strongest Youma, they should be no problem for you.”

            “I know, it’s just,” Thetis insisted, “We also thought they’d be no problem for everyone else who’s come before me, and now they’re all… they’re all dead. So many of my friends are dead.”

            “None of them were as strong as you,” Queen Beryl responded coolly.

            “But what if it’s not enough?” Thetis asked, “What if I’m not enough?”

            “Are you questioning me?” Queen Beryl asked angrily.

            “No, no, of course not,” Thetis insisted, “It’s just… when my time eventually does come to go against them, maybe I could have some backup? Maybe one of the Shitennou could accompany me?”

            “One Youma solo is standard protocol,” Queen Beryl responded, “If you’re too afraid to do it, maybe I can have you replaced with someone who will.”

            “No!” Thetis gasped, “I’ll… I’ll do anything you ask.”

            “Very good,” Queen Beryl smiled.

 ---

            Thetis looked around. She began to tremble. Finally, she cried out, “My Queen! My Queen! Help me!” When nothing happened, she began to sob.

            “It’s okay,” Sailor Moon assured her, “I know it can be scary to realize your whole life is a lie, but I promise, it’s only your life so far. It’s not too late to turn things around. Abandon the Dark Kingdom and fight with us. Or just live your life for yourself. I won’t pretend that things won’t be weird at first, and it’s going to take us some time to wrap our heads around the idea of being on good terms with a Youma, but if you join us, I promise you will know what it’s like to have people care about you as more than just a means to an end.”

            Thetis paused for a second. Then, to everyone’s shock, she used a jet of water to launch herself in the air. Everyone watched, bracing for whatever she might do when she landed. To the Sailor Scouts’ pleasant surprise, she landed in front of Jadeite, and leapt forward, tackling him.

            “You bastard!” she hissed, while repeatedly raining down fists at his face, “You never gave a fuck, did you? I get not returning my affection, but why could you never even treat me like a person? I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

Jadeite tried to cover his face, to deflect some of the blows with his arms, but he was met with extremely limited success, success which quickly diminished as he headed closer and closer to unconsciousness.

Thetis stood up, and, with the crook of her ankle under his chin, dragged him to his feet. She prepared to throw a right hook at his face, but he teleported away.

Thetis broke down crying once again. The Sailor Scouts rushed to her side, and threw their arms around her. It felt extremely weird, and a little unnatural at first.

“What have I done?” Thetis asked herself out loud, “I just attacked one of the Shitennou! Queen Beryl’s going to kill me. She’s actually going to kill me.”

“You’re out of her reach now,” Sailor Moon assured her.

“I’ve just abandoned everyone I’ve ever loved,” Thetis gasped, staring off into space.

“Because you realized they didn’t love you back,” Sailor Mercury countered, “You did the right thing.”

“You promise you’ll be there for me?” Thetis asked.

“As long as you don’t go back to the Dark Kingdom,” Sailor Moon responded.

“My god, I’ve really been fighting for the wrong side my entire life, haven’t I?” Thetis concluded.

“You have,” Sailor Moon answered, “But I’m guessing it’s not entirely your fault. You were born into the Dark Kingdom, and they taught you to do it your whole life. This, what you’re doing right now? This is the first time you’re acting of your own will.”

“All those people, all those people in the ballroom. I hurt them for no good reason, didn’t I?” Thetis asked.

“You can fix it,” Sailor Moon assured her.

“Oh, right,” Thetis noted, before returning all the energy to the unconscious patrons. They began to stir slowly.

“So… what do I do now?” Thetis asked.

“There’s a lot to figure out,” Sailor Mercury suggested, “But I think first you just join us for a milkshake and we talk it over.”

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy

Chapter Four: Rules of Engagement

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter, aside from Ayame. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

Author’s Note: Please don’t take this one too seriously.

            There they were. Usagi, Haruka, Michiru, and Ayame, the 35-year-old ex-military munitions expert the Inner Senshi had been travelling with ever since they realized that having someone with an assload of firearms proved useful exactly as many times as you’d think. The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder in the parking garage. They stared down Eudial. They stared down each other. Then they stared down Eudial again.

            “It’s over, we’ve caught up with you!” Usagi yelled.

            “Fuck you!” Eudial yelled back.

            “You couldn’t afford it!” Ayame countered.

            “What?” Eudial asked back.

            “Fucking me,” Ayame responded, “Don’t worry though, I think we can work out a little friends and family discount.”

            “Family?” Eudial asked incredulously.

            “Heard it as soon as I said it,” Ayame admitted, “Okay, maybe just a friends discount. Friends and enemies? Sometimes a hate-fuck is as good as making love.”

            “You’re disgusting!” Eudial spat.

            “Look, I’m here to fight or fuck, and if fucking’s off the table, that really just leaves us one option,” Ayame proposed.

            “Fine with me!” Eudial responded, “Doorknobder! Now!”

            A pale Daimon with goblin ears and a giant doorknob on her head emerged from around the corner of the parking garage. “At your service, ma’am, what can I—Holy shit that is a big gun!” she said with a stunned expression on her face.

            “Wait until you see what I can do with it!” Ayame responded.

            “I… I really don’t want to do that,” Doorknobder admitted.

            “The walls!” Eudial commanded.

            “Right!” Doorknobder snapped to attention, before sealing all the exits, save one, that Eudial slipped past.

            “Now take them out!” Eudial followed up.

            “I can’t do that!” Doorknobder protested.

            “What do you mean?” Eudial asked.

            “I seal doors and make walls, and I’m not very good at fighting!” Doorknobder admitted.

            “Do it anyway, that’s an order!” Eudial responded, closing the door behind her.

            “I’m going to transform,” Usagi whispered to Ayame.

            “But then the two civilians will see you!” Ayame pointed out.

            “I don’t think I have a choice,” Usagi countered, “I think it’s my only chance to save Minako.”

            “If you think it’s the right thing to do,” Ayame said.

            “Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Doorknobder asked nervously, “Is it a secret weapon? Oh god, it’s a secret weapon, isn’t it? I am so boned.”

            Just then, Usagi transformed into Sailor Moon.

            “Oh fuck, Sailor Moon is here?” Doorknobder screamed in terror, “I’m fucked!”

            “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Ayame muttered to Usagi.

            “Our enemies are hilariously disorganized?” Usagi guessed.

            “Deeper than that. The Daimon, she clearly doesn’t want to be a part of this,” Ayame answered.

            “That should make it easy,” Usagi laughed.

            “Actually, it makes it way more complicated,” Ayame sighed, “Because it makes her a civilian. Possibly even a Prisoner of War.”

            “She’s a Daimon!” Usagi protested.

            “She’s being forced to fight against her will,” Ayame insisted.

            “So what do you want us to do?” Usagi asked incredulously.

            “I… I think this just became a double rescue mission,” Ayame answered.

            “You can’t be serious,” Usagi sighed.

            “Dead serious,” Ayame insisted, “I saw this kind of thing in Uganda. You come up against child soldiers, it’s your job to liberate them, not kill them. Same principle applies here.”

            “I’m not doing it,” Usagi shrugged, “I see a Daimon, I kill a Daimon.”

            “Well then I’m cashing in Osaka,” Ayame revealed.

            “You’re cashing in Osaka for this?” Usagi gasped.

            “The fact that you don’t think this is worth cashing in Osaka over is exactly why I’m cashing in Osaka,” Ayame countered.

            “Are we fucking going for this or not?” Haruka asked.

            “No…” Usagi responded reluctantly, “We’re not making a move on the Daimon.”

            “You’re not?” Doorknobder beamed excitedly.

            “We’re not?” Michiru asked angrily.

            “Ayame’s cashing in Osaka,” Usagi sighed.

            “Yeah… I have no idea what that means,” Haruka responded.

            “It’s big,” Usagi answered, “My hands are kind of tied at this point.”

            “Well mine aren’t, fuck it, I’m kicking this monster’s ass,” Haruka snapped back.

            “I will absolutely shoot you,” Ayame warned her.

            “So what are we doing then?” Haruka sighed exasperatedly.

            “Hey, Daimon!” Ayame called out, “Doorknobder was it?”

            “That’s me,” Doorknobder responded.

            “Look, we want to offer you a deal. Turn on your master right now and we’ll make sure you get out of here safely,” Ayame elaborated.

            “I… I don’t think I can do that,” Doorknobder admitted.

            “Why not, what will happen?” Ayame asked.

            “Well, nothing, I just don’t think I’m allowed to do that,” Doorknobder answered.

            “Okay, say that again, but slower, and really listen to yourself when you do,” Ayame countered.

            “I mean—” Doorknobder began.

            “She’s got a point,” said Usagi, “You know how many Daimons I’ve fought? Same number that I’ve killed. If you don’t want to be part of that number, I suggest you listen to her.”

            “Hey, come on, don’t phrase it like that,” Ayame protested, “We’re here to be liberators, not just coerce her in the opposite direction.”

            “No, that’s actually a really good point,” Doorknobder acknowledged, “Okay, you win. I’m all yours now.”

            “Wait, that actually worked?” Usagi asked, confused.

            “I think you’ll find that offering a scared and desperate person a way out of their situation usually gets you pretty far with them,” Doorknobder pointed out.

            “Watch it,” Usagi warned.

            “You watch it!” Ayame lambasted, “Don’t threaten the captive we’re liberating.”

            “Right, sorry,” Usagi conceded.

            “Man, what the fuck happened in Osaka?” Michiru asked.

            “Doorknobder, if you would, the doors?” Usagi asked.

            “Right!” Doorknobder responded, before unsealing all the exits.

            “I think Eudial went this way,” Usagi proposed, pointing to the door that she had earlier slipped through.

            “Wait, let’s just get this out of the way first,” Haruka noted, before she and Michiru transformed into Sailors Uranus and Neptune.

            “Okay, I’m going to process that once this is over,” Usagi muttered, mouth agape, “But first, saving Minako.”

            The five of them burst through the door to find Eudial hovering over Minako and her pure heart crystal.

            “Back away,” Haruka commanded.

            “I’m not leaving here without that crystal,” Eudial insisted.

            “If you don’t leave now, I’ll make it so you can’t leave ever,” Doorknobder countered.

            “Doorknobder, what the fuck are you doing?” Eudial asked.

            “Turning on you, I think,” Doorknobder responded.

            “You can do that?” Eudial asked.

            “Apparently,” Doorknobder answered.

            “Fuck!” snapped Eudial as she ran to her car, hopped in, and drove off.

            “Well that was easy,” Usagi observed, “None of us even had to fight.”

            “The lesson here is, sometimes an ounce of diplomacy is worth a pound of battle,” Ayame smiled.

            “That’s a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Michiru asked rhetorically.

            “No leaning on the fourth wall,” Ayame retorted.

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy Chapter Five: Break the Cutie

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter, aside from Cerabela. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

Cerabela awoke at seven in the morning, as she did every day, and sat up with a smile. She went to her bookshelf and watered Mr. Green Leaf, then wandered down to the dining hall. She grabbed her favourite: two hardboiled eggs, a croissant, and an onigiri, all with a glass of iced tea to wash it down. She sat down next to the other youma and began to eat cheerfully.

“Ugh, how can you be this chipper so early in the morning?” asked Widow.

“It’s a beautiful day, and I can’t wait to enjoy it!” Cerabela responded.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you put in that tea?” Widow asked grumpily.

“Just my mouth!” Cerabela answered.

“You’re the worst,” Widow sighed, “But don’t ever change.”

Cerabela continued to happily munch her croissant, when she spotted the DD girls walking over to her.

“Please just leave me alone today,” she muttered to herself.

“Well, if it isn’t the girl who farts rainbows,” the red DD girl mocked.

“H-hey girls!” Cerabela laughed weakly.

“Aww, look, she’s trying to be friends,” the green DD girl smirked.

“You should try that on the Sailor Scouts, I bet you make it about fifteen seconds,” the blue DD girl sneered.

“When I face the Sailor Scouts, I’ll just have to do my best!” Cerabela responded, trying to hide her nervousness at the prospect.

“God, you’re such a fucking waste,” the red DD girl spat.

Cerabela looked down at the floor. “At least I get to have my own name,” she muttered.

“What was that?” the red DD girl asked angrily.

“You heard me!” Cerabela yelled in response.

The purple DD girl slapped her across the face, sending a murmur through the dining hall.

“Hey!” Jumou shouted, “Leave her alone!”

“You really want to start something?” the pink DD girl yelled.

“No, but I’m willing to bet you don’t either,” Jumou responded, not budging an inch.

The DD girls felt the eyes of the room on their backs, and slowly returned to their table.

“Don’t let them get you down,” Jumou said.

“Thanks, Jumou,” Cerabela smiled.

Cerabela finished her breakfast and went to the gym to train. After an hour of weights and an hour of cardio, Petasos approached her for a sparring session. They spent half an hour throwing each other around, before calling it a day.

Back in her room, Cerabela sat on her bed and read. She was almost done Great Expectations, and she couldn’t wait to start Stranger in a Strange Land. She was interrupted by Nephrite at her door.

Before he spoke, an immediate chill went down her spine. She already knew the news that was about to be delivered, it was unavoidable. Everyone in the Dark Kingdom knew that it was only a matter of time before their number was drawn, and the inevitability was quickly becoming immediacy for Cerabela.

“It’s time,” he told her grimly.

“I’m not ready,” she replied panickedly.

“No one ever feels like they are,” he replied.

“What if I fail?” she asked.

“Then you’ll die a hero,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“How much time do I have?” she asked.

“You’re going out this evening,” he told her.

She struggled to catch her breath. Finally, fighting every urge in her body, she composed herself. “Who’s the target?”

“Takagi Sho,” he informed her, “Acclaimed gymnast with the Tokyo Circus. His athletic stamina and frenetic personality will make him an excellent target.”

“Is he also a real bad guy?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, the worst,” he answered, looking away, “Cheats on his wife, mean to dogs, the works.”

“Let’s get him!” she grinned.

Nephrite walked up to Cerabela and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re going to do great, sweet one,” he crooned, before walking off and wiping a tear from his eye.

Cerabela sat on her bed, trying to collect her thoughts. She was absolutely terrified. Every Youma who had tried to steal energy had ended up facing off with the Sailor Scouts, and dying at their hands. Every single one. That fact kept running through her head, ceaselessly, almost intrusively. Maybe she could just steal the energy really fast before the Scouts could get there. Maybe she could just run away. Everyone else had tried to fight, maybe she could just run away. Maybe she could handle the Scouts in combat. Maybe she’d get to be the lucky one.

Her head was awash with these thoughts as she made her way hazily through her afternoon. It was her turn to clean the bathroom, and she was determined to do it, circumstances be damned. She scrubbed diligently, trying to focus on the porcelain as a way to chase away thoughts of impending doom. Her success was limited, to say the least.

“You’ll do great,” Widow told her as they passed in the hallway, “Just remember, the most important thing is getting back here safe. Nothing else matters before that.”

“Everything will be fine,” Jumou assured her, “You’ve got heart.”

As evening came, Nephrite approached her. “We need to hide you in this water bottle,” he told her, “Close your eyes.”

Cerabela did as she was told, and in an instant was transported into the water bottle. When she opened her eyes again, it was like she could see from the perspective of the bottle. It was a little disorienting, but also kind of fun being carried around by Nephrite, like an amusement park ride. It briefly took her mind off the fear.

Two hours later, Cerabela and Nephrite were backstage at the circus. Nephrite approached a lithe, toned gymnast, and offered a handshake. “Sanjouin Masato,” he introduced himself, “Talent agent. Here, take a bottle.”

Sho took the bottle, looked it over, and handed it back. “Sorry, I’m quite happy with my current representation.”

“Thought it was worth an ask,” Nephrite responded, “Have a great evening.”

The momentary contact had been enough; Cerabela was now inside Sho, slowly draining his energy. She was worried she wouldn’t know how, but it was proving surprisingly self-evident.

Sho walked past the curtain and into what was to be the site of the show that night. He walked up to the trapeze and pulled on it with his hand.

“Everything alright?” the technician asked.

“Just checking to make sure everything’s sturdy,” Sho answered, “We’re not going to have a repeat of Kyoto, are we?”

“No, of course not,” the technician replied deferentially.

“Good, because I will absolutely fucking kill you,” Sho snapped.

“Yes sir,” said the technician, bowing out.

Oh wow, he really is a jerk! Cerabela thought to herself, I don’t feel bad for taking his energy at all. He’d probably just use it to bully someone.

Sho walked backstage again. “Watanabe Shuntaro!” he called to one of the stretching performers, “Gonna put on a great show tonight! If you can stay away from the glug glug, eh?”

“What the fuck, man?” the performer yelled back in shock.

A young woman wearing a headset pulled Sho aside, “What was that about? That’s not like you.”

“Don’t think you can lure me back here just to make a move on me!” Sho laughed, “I told you, no means no!”

“I’m trying to be serious with you, how dare you bring that up?” she hissed.

“You’re the one trying to get me alone,” Sho sneered.

“To tell you to get your shit together,” she responded, “Now get your head right. Lights go up in thirty.”

Sho went back to his dressing room and stretched until show time. He sat and watched the human cannonball, then the clown, and then finally it was his turn. He stepped out to the roar of the crowd, and climbed the tightrope, before walking it to the delight of the onlookers. He then grabbed on to the trapeze and dove off the platform, hooking his legs around the beam in midair, and laying upside down as he swung across the arena. As he bathed in the adoration of the audience, Cerabela felt his energy beginning to peak. Now was her moment, she just had to wait until it was safe to—now! He had dismounted and was beginning to take a bow.

Cerabela shot up as a beam of energy, hitting the roof of the big top as Sho collapsed in a heap. She took form atop the tightrope, and took a bow. “Sorry Mr. Takagi!” she called from up high, “But also, maybe be nicer to the people around you?”

The crowd roared in approval, catching Cerabela off guard. She responded by doing a back flip on the tightrope, sending the patrons into an absolute frenzy. She took another bow, then jumped down, causing the crowd to gasp, then explode with applause as she landed gingerly on the ground and stood up, unharmed.

“I know what’s going on here!” came a voice from the other side of the guard rail. Cerabela’s heart sank when she saw that it was Sailor Moon. “I am Sailor Moon, champion of justice! On behalf of the moon, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil, and that means you!”

Cerabela felt her cheeks redden at these words. She was a good person, wasn’t she? “You’re the evil ones!” she screamed in rage, “Killing all my friends!”

“What?” Sailor Moon asked incredulously, “They were—and you’re—Oh, whatever, you know what you’re doing is wrong!”

“All I’m doing is taking energy from a jerk and giving it to my friends!” Cerabela retorted, “They need it more than he does anyway!”

“I’m not here to argue with you,” Sailor Moon responded, jumping the barricade and charging at Cerabela. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury were running up behind her.

Cerabela balled her hand into a fist, digging her nails into her hand to steel her resolve. She turned on her heel and threw a mule kick straight into Sailor Moon’s jaw, then spun around to land a spinning back kick squarely on the side of Sailor Mars’ head. For the moment, this just left Sailor Mercury.

“Please,” Cerabela pleaded, “I don’t want to fight you. Please just let me leave.”

Sailor Mercury stood in place, conflicted, before Sailor Moon made it back to her feet and charged Cerabela, tackling her with her shoulder and sending her tumbling to the ground. Cerabela rolled and made it to her feet, only to walk into a knee to the gut from Sailor Mars. She stumbled backward, and Sailor Mars took the opportunity to clock her squarely in the jaw, sending her flying back and splayed out.

Sailor Moon took the tiara from her forehead. “Moon… Tiara…”

Cerabela panicked, and in her panic, her eyes glowed white. “Disorient!” she called out. The three Sailor Scouts lost their balance and tumbled toward the ground.

Cerabela took the opportunity to look for a way out. She wasn’t sure she could make it through the crowd without getting mobbed, so she looked up. She saw a small opening in the tenting. If she could make it to the tightrope, she was pretty sure she could jump out it. She ran over to the ladder and began to climb. The Sailor Scouts regained their balance and started climbing up the other side.

“Please, don’t!” she pleaded, “I don’t want to do this!”

“You started it!” Sailor Mars retorted.

They made it to the top of their respective platforms, and Cerabela ran for the centre of the tightrope, hoping to use it as a spring. Sailor Mars ran after her and attacked with Fire Soul. Cerabela deftly side-stepped it and, on instinct, sent a balance-disrupting attack her enemy’s way. Sailor Mars stumbled, then began to tilt off the tightrope and fall to the ground.

“No!” Cerabela yelled, hooking the tightrope with both feet and swinging upside down to catch her.

“Did she just—“ Sailor Moon gawked.

“She absolutely did,” Sailor Mercury answered.

Cerabela used her one free hand to shimmy along the tight rope toward the platform where the other two Scouts stood. She pulled a still-dizzy Sailor Mars up and handed her arm to a waiting Sailor Moon. Then she realized where she was, panicked again, and ran toward the centre of the tightrope, where she buried her head in her hands and tried to catch her breath.

“Now’s my chance!” Sailor Moon exclaimed, “Moon… Tiara…”

Sailor Moon tried to muster up the last word, but every time she tried, her eyes focused on Cerabela’s distraught face, the fear in her eyes, the confusion in her agape mouth. “Oh god, I can’t do this, can I?”

“I don’t think you can,” Sailor Mercury responded.

“So what do we do?” Sailor Moon asked.

“Excuse me, miss?” Sailor Mercury called out, “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we all climb down and just talk?”

Cerabela peered one eye out through her fingers. “Promise?” she asked.

“I promise,” Sailor Mercury answered.

“So it’s actually being possessed by a Youma that makes the victim act like a jerk,” Sailor Moon explained, sipping her tea.

“Although we had always wondered if it was the state of having one’s energy drained that caused the irritable behaviour, or if it was the personality of the possessor leaking through,” Sailor Mercury elaborated, “I think we can consider that question solved.”

“I’d never even considered the possibility that a Youma could be good-natured,” Sailor Moon confessed.

“But my friends were all good people!” Cerabela insisted, “They were always nice to me, and we’d help each other out whenever we were in trouble.”

“It’s valid that you feel that way,” Sailor Mars interjected, “But when we met them, we only knew them as the ones trying to kill us.”

“You mean you didn’t try to kill them first?” Cerabela asked.

“No, not really,” Sailor Moon answered.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Cerabela conceded.

“I’m just glad we didn’t do something horrible and kill you,” Sailor Moon winced.

“Yeah… definitely prefer being alive,” Cerabela responded.

“So what do you want to do now?” Sailor Mars asked.

“I think… I think I just want to be done with all of this,” Cerabela answered, “No more fighting, no more stressing, just living.”

“I think we can make that happen,” Sailor Mercury affirmed, “I know a guy who owns a building and owes us a favour, let’s see if we can get you set up with a place and find a job. You might have to assume a fake name, though.”

“How about… Iizuka Momoko?” Cerabela suggested.

“Sounds as good as anything else!” Sailor Moon agreed.

“My new life, I can’t wait!” Cerabela beamed.

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy Chapter Six: Is It Ever Too Late? Version 2

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

Author’s Note: A re-telling of my favourite chapter so far (if the novel-length spin-off didn’t give that away), this time with no RAN. In keeping more with the spirit of the story, what would happen if Sailor Moon herself made the choice to show mercy?

            Kyameran stepped forward, feeling sure of herself. She had Sailor Moon cornered, and any second now, she would be trapped in a photograph, having her energy drained, and safely no longer a threat to the Dark Kingdom and their plans. She grinned a grin that was two parts maniacal, one part a surprising relief. It wasn’t until she finally knew the fight was won that she realized how afraid she’d been. Afraid that she would end up like the other Youma who had come face to face with Sailor Moon. She raised her camera-hand. “I hope you’re ready for your close up!” she smiled. That was the line she went with? She shuttered internally, but brushed it off. In a moment, no one would remember it.

            She fired her camera, and then, to her horror, Sailor Moon jumped up in the air and over her head, the beam cascading into the mirror and reflecting back at her. The blast hit Kyameran full-on in the face, and she screamed in equal measures horror and pain as she felt the energy warp and melt her flesh. She barely registered that the eyeball in her hand had popped out, but once she realized it had happened, she felt she was going to be sick.

            “Oh no!” she gasped weakly, “Caught inside my own camera? This can’t be! I won’t let this happen!”

            She slammed her fist into the mirror in front of her. It shattered the glass, but did little to help her situation. Powerless, and feeling more weary by the second, she propped her hand on the mirror to steady herself. Despite her exhaustion, the electric tingle of panic coursed through her body, as she knew that, any second now, her foe would remove the tiara from her head, and Kyameran’s life would be over. She struggled to wrap her head around it, but nothing she did brought her any closer to acceptance. Her breath quickened and her heart raced as she braced for the end.

            Sailor Moon stared at her fallen foe, flesh dripping and hanging off her body like a grotesque melted popsicle, struggling to stay upright with the help of the wall, and she felt something she’d never felt toward an enemy: sympathy. Knowing that Kyameran had been completely neutralized, the fear of annihilation that had completely controlled Sailor Moon evaporated, she was able to practice a level of empathy she usually didn’t have the luxury of practicing. She thought of how much pain Kyameran must be in, how afraid she must be, and how defeated she probably felt.

            “Just… just get it over with!” Kyameran hissed.

            “Why?” Sailor Moon asked rhetorically, “What are you going to do, bleed on me?”

            “Don’t mock me!” Kyameran barked, “We both know this is the end for me, so can you at least let me go out with a little dignity?”

            “I’m serious,” Sailor Moon insisted, “You pose no threat to me anymore. What purpose is there in killing you?”

            Kyameran struggled to comprehend what was going on. Here was Sailor Moon, sworn enemy of the Dark Kingdom, the one they called the Youma Butcher, who had mercilessly slaughtered so many of her friends, offering her a kindness. “You would show me mercy?” she asked.

            “What’s the point in being a hero if you can’t occasionally show a little mercy?” Sailor Moon smiled coyly.

            “But you’re not a hero!” Kyameran countered, “You’re the menace who constantly sabotages our plans to get back what’s ours! You’ve hunted down and killed so many of my friends!”

            “Don’t believe everything that you hear,” Sailor Moon replied, “Maybe I’m not so bad after all.”

            For Sailor Moon, this conversation was proving illuminating. She’d always assumed that her enemies were just evil people doing evil things because they’re evil, but now she had to consider a second possibility: that, with just a little manipulation and deception, it was possible they were being fed a counter-narrative that painted her as the villain. She felt a pang of guilt for all the Youma she had killed, wondering if any of them were similarly just operating under false pretenses. Then again, it wasn’t like she’d had the luxury of having a conversation with them. This was just what war was like.

            “No, this is a trick,” Kyameran insisted suspiciously, “You’re trying to lull me into a sense of false calm to get my guard down.”

            “Why would I do that?” Sailor Moon asked incredulously, “The fight’s already won.”

            “To make me suffer more,” Kyameran answered tepidly, “To make me feel some pointless sense of hope to twist the knife in harder when it’s all stripped away from me.”

            “Where would you get the idea that that’s even something people do?” Sailor Moon asked, before realizing, “Man, they must have really done a number on you, didn’t they?”

            Kyameran said nothing. She turned her head only slightly to look at Sailor Moon out the side of her face, while crouching down and curling into as small a ball as possible.

            “I’m not going to hurt you,” Sailor Moon insisted, “At least no more than I already have.”

            Kyameran remained silent, eyeing the exits and mulling a run for it.

            “It’s okay, really,” Sailor Moon promised.

            Kyameran sprung up and took off running, but within a few steps, her legs gave out and she crashed to the floor. She fell too quickly to have any time to brace for impact, and her jaw collided with the hard floor, sending pain coursing through her face and neck. Sailor Moon walked over and offered a hand. Seeing no downside, no way things could possibly get worse than she perceived them currently being, Kyameran accepted the hand up. Once she was on her feet, Sailor Moon pulled Kyameran in for a tight, earnest hug.

She was surprised at just how human Kyameran felt in her arms. For no reason she could think of, she’d always suspected that the skin of a Youma would be hard, or cold, or somehow markedly different than our own, but hugging Kyameran felt exactly like hugging a classmate, soft, warm, and a little frail. She could faintly smell Kyameran’s perfume, an energetic floral fragrance that came in waves.

            Kyameran was equally surprised at how safe she felt in her foe’s arms. She felt supported, sturdy on her own two feet again. The anxiety that threatened to tear her apart at her very core was now just a light electricity dancing across her skin, not gone altogether, but somehow manageable, solvable. She slunk further into her would-be enemy’s grip. She felt her legs give out again, but Sailor Moon only shifted more of her energy into holding Kyameran up. In this position, it occurred to Kyameran how vulnerable she was, and the fear that this was all a trick returned. She began to gently cry.

            “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sailor Moon cooed.

            “Please don’t kill me,” Kyameran whispered through tears, “Please don’t let this be the end for me.”

            “I’m not going to,” Sailor Moon assured her, “I promise.”

            “You promise?” Kyameran asked.

            “I promise,” Sailor Moon stated matter-of-factly.

            Kyameran found her footing again and gently returned Sailor Moon’s hug, then released, and broke away.

            “You’re… you’re really not going to kill me, are you?” she processed.

            “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Sailor Moon laughed.

            “Thank you,” Kyameran sighed, leaning against the mirrored wall and slowly sitting down, “I know I don’t deserve it.”

            “A second chance?” Sailor Moon asked, “Everyone deserves that. Not everyone finds themselves in a position to get it, though.”

            “Well… fuck,” Kyameran quipped, staring into the middle distance.

            “What?” Sailor Moon asked.

            “Well, if you’re not the bad guy, that means…” Kyameran trailed off.

            “’Fraid so,” Sailor Moon smiled sadly.

            “My whole life, it’s all been lies,” Kyameran gasped slowly, her eyes wide with realization, “How could I have been so stupid?”

            “I’m sure they had ways of keeping you from questioning it,” Sailor Moon posited.

            “Oh god, you don’t know the half of it,” Kyameran replied, “The beatings alone.”

            “They beat you?” Sailor Moon asked incredulously.

            “Oh yeah, like crazy,” Kyameran answered.

            “And you never started to suspect that they were the bad guys?” Sailor Moon asked, still more incredulously.

            “I mean, I knew they weren’t exactly good people,” Kyameran responded, “But I guess it was one part convincing us that it would all be worth it in the end, one part convincing us that the other side was worse, and one side making us terrified that we’d be executed if they caught us doubting them.”

            “That… that sounds really awful,” Sailor Moon sighed.

            “You know, I don’t think I ever acknowledged it, but it really, really was,” Kyameran admitted.

            “So all the Youma I’ve killed… same deal for all of them?” Sailor Moon asked, beginning to feel a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

            “Yeah,” Kyameran answered, “We used to get so afraid for them when we found out they were scheduled to go out on a mission we thought might bring them into contact with you. Then when we found out they were dead, it like a fresh devastation that kept playing out over and over again, every week or so.”

            “I feel so horrible!” Sailor Moon exclaimed.

            “Don’t,” Kyameran assured her, “I doubt many of them left you much of a choice. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I know the Dark Kingdom killed them, not you.”

            “Still! Maybe I could’ve reasoned with them,” Sailor Moon proposed.

            “You would have if you could have,” Kyameran insisted, “You did with me, first chance you got.”

            “I guess you’re right,” Sailor Moon conceded.

            “You’re alright, Sailor Brat,” Kyameran smiled tiredly.

            “Oh, I do need you to bring my friends back,” Sailor Moon remembered.

            “Right!” Kyameran gasped. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard on the still photographs sprinkled around the room. Within a few seconds, all of the people who had been trapped in the camera returned to where they had stood seconds before.

            “I’ll send you to Hell!” Sailor Mars exclaimed, readying her Fire Soul attack. Kyameran felt the shock of panic course through her body and turned to cover up.

            “No!” Sailor Moon interjected, standing between Sailor Mars and the Youma, “The fight is over. We’re all friends now.”

            “Did you somehow get dumber while we were in there?” Sailor Mars gawked, “She’s a monster!”

            “She’s a scared, hurt person who just realized she’s been lied to her whole life!” Sailor Moon retorted.

            “You’ve absolutely lost it,” Sailor Mars sighed, “Get out of my way.”

            “I’m not moving,” Sailor Moon insisted.

            “Are you really sure this is the smartest course of action?” Luna asked.

            “It’s the right thing to do,” Sailor Moon answered, “And the right thing to do is always the smartest thing to do.”

            Sailor Mercury surveyed the scene: her resolute team leader standing in front of someone she was more conditioned to think of as a “what” than a “who”; meanwhile, seeing the monster curled up in a ball, afraid and clearly injured, she was full of a pathos she didn’t previously think possible. “I trust Sailor Moon’s judgment on this,” she declared.

            “What?” Sailor Mars blurted, equal parts angry and perplexed.

            “I mean, stranger things have happened,” Sailor Mercury responded, “The three of us have magic powers activated by makeup cases and sailor costumes, and our mentor is a talking cat. Is it really that out of the question that a monster might be redeemable?”

            “I promise, I want to try to be better,” Kyameran insisted.

            “’Try’ to be better,” Sailor Mars repeated, “So not only are we just supposed to take your word on it, but all you’re promising is a try? So what happens if you fail? I refuse to have that on my conscience.”

            “What’s she going to do?” Sailor Moon asked rhetorically, “Her camera arm’s shot, she can’t really threaten anyone.”

            “I… have no counter to that,” Sailor Mars admitted, “But still, we’re the pretty guardians who fight for justice. I say we deliver justice.”

            “Aren’t second chances part of justice?” Sailor Moon argued, “An eye for an eye something something.”

            “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” Sailor Mercury finished.

            “Thanks, glad one of us pays attention in history class,” Sailor Moon responded.

            Sailor Mars stood silent, desperately wanting to say something, but unable to come up with anything.

            “I’m willing to chance it,” Sailor Mercury asserted, “Sometimes doing the right thing means taking a risk, taking a chance on somebody. Maybe this is one of those times.”

            “Sailor Moon appears to have put quite a lot more thought into this than I initially gave her credit for,” Luna chimed in, “I’m with her on this one.”

            “Fuck, fine!” Sailor Mars cursed in frustration, “Let the goddamn monster loose, see what happens!”

            “Could you stop talking about her like she’s not in the room?” Sailor Moon yelled.

            “Fine,” Sailor Mars replied, turning her eyes to Kyameran, and continuing in the most terse calm she could muster, “I think you’re a monster and you deserve to die. But these three have decided to be complete fucking idiots about it, so I guess go ahead and kill some more innocent people. Just know I’ll kill you the second you do.”

            “I… I understand why you feel that way,” Kyameran responded softly.

            “Good,” Sailor Mars retorted flatly.

            “No, I mean it,” Kyameran continued, “I was completely prepared to kill you, all your friends, and all of these innocent people. I don’t entirely know if I deserve this second chance. But I’m glad to have it, and I promise I’m going to do something good with it.”

            “Okay, maybe, just maybe, I’m prepared for the possibility that I might be proven wrong on this one. But you have a long way to go to earn my trust, Youma,” Sailor Mars declared.

            “I understand. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to earn your trust,” Kyameran responded.

            “You’re awfully good at being diplomatic,” Luna observed only a little suspiciously.

            “In the Dark Kingdom, you get used to thanking people for not killing you,” Kyameran explained, “This time I actually mean it, though.”

            “Let’s get you patched up,” Sailor Moon suggested.

            “Where can we go?” Sailor Mercury asked, “I mean… we can’t very well take her back to your place and try to explain to your parents that the Sailor Scouts picked their house for no apparent reason.”

            “We… we can use the shrine,” Sailor Mars suggested reluctantly.

            “Really?” Sailor Moon asked excitedly.

            “Yeah, I mean it’s already where we do pretty much everything else,” Sailor Mars responded.

            Sailors Moon and Mercury helped Kyameran back to her feet, and supported her as she attempted to walk. The five of them exited the studio, leaving behind a buzzing and truly confused crowd of onlookers. This dynamic didn’t let up as they walked the streets to the shrine, as every passerby stood in awe, trying to figure out why the Sailor Scouts were walking side by side with a Youma. They all came up with theories, ranging from her being their prisoner to these being peace talks between the Scouts and the Dark Kingdom, and a few even got it right, but the Scouts were in no mood to validate any of their theories, as they focused on getting to the shrine as quickly as possible.

            “Sir,” Rei said once they reached the shrine, “We need to give our associate some medical attention.”

            “You brought a monster here on purpose?” Grandpa Hino asked, bewildered.

            “Don’t worry, she’s friendly,” Sailor Moon assured him, “And badly injured.”

            “Well, if you girls say so,” Grandpa Hino responded.

            “Sir,” Kyameran said, bowing deeply, “Thank you for allowing me to come into your home.”

            The three Scouts spent hours bandaging Kyameran’s wounds, trying to get the bits of dangling flesh back to their original locations. The task proved exceptionally challenging, as despite their many battles against them, none of them really knew all that much about Youma physiology, but Kyameran assured them they were doing it right. With each wound bandaged, the earnestness of Kyameran’s gratitude continued to shine more and more, and by the time they were done, even Sailor Mars had come to trust her at least a little.

            “And I think we’re done,” Sailor Moon declared as they snipped up the last bandage.

            “Oh my god, thank you all so much,” Kyameran gushed, “You really didn’t have to do this to me, I mean I kind of did this to myself.”

            “Good to hear you speaking in those terms,” Sailor Mars chided gently.

            “Oh no, I mean I literally did this to myself,” Kyameran responded, “You guys didn’t see it, because you were trapped in the photograps, but all of this damage is from my own attack. Sailor Moon jumped out of the way and I hit a mirror.”

            “So you beat her without laying a hand on her,” Sailor Mars murmured to Sailor Moon, “Impressive.”

            “Yeah, she definitely handed me my ass,” Kyameran laughed nervously.

            “Hey, you had me on the ropes for most of the fight,” Sailor Moon assured her.

            “Yeah, doesn’t count for much,” Kyameran insisted, “Still, losing that fight might be the best thing that ever happened to me. We’ll see. Ask me once we figure out how long these wounds will take to heal.”

            “So what do we do now?” Sailor Mercury asked.

            “She can… she can stay at the shrine until we figure out a plan,” Sailor Mars suggested.

            “Really?” Kyameran gasped.

            “That way I can keep an eye on you,” Sailor Mars retorted, “Don’t think for a second that I trust you.”

            “Thank you!” Kyameran gushed, “You won’t regret this.”

            “Sir,” Sailor Mars called out to the man she still had to struggle not to address as “Grandpa”, “Can we talk to you for a minute? We need to ask a really big favour.”

            “Anything for the girls who saved my shrine from infiltration,” Grandpa Hino assured them.

            “Our friend, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go right now,” Sailor Mars began tepidly, “Is there any way she can stay here for a few days?”

            “I… I guess I don’t see why not,” Grandpa Hino responded, before grinning slyly, “I mean, if she wanted to stay in my bedroom…”

            “That won’t be necessary!” Kyameran blurted, feeling the heat under the bandages from her purple face turning red.

            “We’ll get you set up in one of the guest rooms,” Grandpa Hino smiled.

            “We should get going,” Sailor Mercury suggested.

            The three scouts and Luna left the shrine, found a place to Clark Kent themselves in the forest, and stood, about to go their separate ways.

            “Are you really sure we can trust her?” Ami asked.

            “Not even a little bit,” Usagi answered honestly, “But I’m sure we have to give her a shot.”

            “She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Rei admitted.

            “This is big,” Usagi acknowledged, “We’ve never had someone from the Dark Kingdom on our side. If this actually does work out, imagine how much information we’re about to have access to.”

            “That does intrigue me,” Ami responded.

            “It would be pretty cool,” Rei seconded, “Anyway, it’s been a long day, and now I have to go home and pretend to be surprised. See you guys at school tomorrow!”

            The three girls went their separate ways, and Rei returned to the shrine.

            “Rei, honey!” her grandfather exclaimed upon seeing her walk through the front door, “The Sailor Scouts were just here! There’s someone you need to meet.”

            Kyameran nervously walked out to meet Rei.

            “This is Kyameran!” Grandpa Hino explained, “It’s hard to see through all these bandages, but she’s a Youma! The Sailor Scouts insisted she was on our side though.”

            “Oh!” Rei exclaimed, feigning startle, “N-nice to meet you!”

            “Nice to meet you too,” Kyameran responded suspiciously, extending a hand, which Rei accepted.

            “Well, I’m off to make dinner!” Grandpa Hino informed everyone, “Can’t let our guest go hungry!”

            As Grandpa Hino walked off, Kyameran motioned to a side room, wordlessly inviting Rei to join her. Rei followed, feeling a slight twinge of panic run up her spine.

            “What’s up?” Rei asked, once they were alone.

            Kyameran looked her dead in the eye. “You’re Sailor Mars, aren’t you?” she asked.

            “N-no!” Rei responded, trying to act indignant.

            “Come on,” Kyameran furthered.

            “How did you figure it out?” Rei asked.

            “When you suggested we come here,” Kyameran explained, “It sounded like you were the one with the most connection to this place, so I figured Sailor Mars had to be someone with a strong connection to the shrine. Then when you said you’d be keeping an eye on me, that was a bit of a giveaway. Mostly though? That, five seconds ago, is not the way anyone has ever reacted to meeting me for the first time. It was pretty obvious you were expecting me.”

            Rei stood dumbfounded for a second, then her expression became profoundly severe, and she pulled Kyameran in to whisper in her ear. “You realize this raises the stakes, like, a thousand percent, right?” she asked sharply.

            “Yeah,” Kyameran acknowledged, “It definitely occurs to me that it would have been safer just to keep my mouth shut. But I don’t want to live that way anymore, always with one hand behind my back, everyone wondering what everyone else knows, what everyone else is up to, what’s going to happen next. That was my whole life with the Dark Kingdom, but I can’t do it anymore. You guys are the good guys, and if I’m going to be a good guy too, I need to start acting like it. So all cards on the table. I know you’re Sailor Mars, and I’m not going to tell anyone.”

            “Not even if the Dark Kingdom comes looking for you and you figure it’s the only way you can keep them from killing you?” Rei asked interrogatorily.

            “You really don’t know the Dark Kingdom,” Kyameran smiled bitterly, “They’d kill me the second I finished telling them everything they needed to know.”

            “That was a pretty good speech you gave,” Rei acknowledged, “You better hope like hell you meant it.”

            “I promise, I’ll prove myself to you,” Kyameran assured her, “Once my body heals, I want to fight alongside you. I want to bring down the Dark Kingdom, and I want to save as many of my old friends as I can in the process.”

            “You’ve been away from the Dark Kingdom three hours, and you expect me to believe you’re already this gung ho about bringing them down?” Rei asked.

“Look what they did to me!” Kyameran insisted, motioning to her body covered in bandages, “They fed me lies my whole life, then sent me out alone for a fight I was totally unprepared for against an enemy that could have killed me, and by right would have been perfectly justified to do it! Sailor Moon may have inflicted these wounds on me, but she’s not to blame for it. They are. And I’ll make them pay. Make them pay for what they turned me into.”

            “You’re alright,” Sailor Mars conceded, “Now let’s go, I think dinner’s ready.”

Chapter Text

Sailors of Mercy Chapter Seven: Just Like Heaven

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this chapter, aside from Yota, Tetsuya, and Bombela. I do, however, maintain that my use of them is covered under Fair Use, as this story exists both as a way to show appreciation for the original work, and to make a commentary on it. Sailor Moon was a wonderful show full of positive messages about the power of love, friendship, forgiveness, and solidarity, as well as tons of PSA-style messages that helped me immensely growing up. But one thing I felt it never adequately explored was the implications of the various types of Monster of the Week being living, feeling beings, who sometimes showed signs of being redeemable. I wanted to explore what would happen if that changed.

            “So this is the last place you saw him?” asked Sailor Moon as they approached the abandoned construction site.

            “Yeah, he was acting really weird,” responded Yota, “He kept snapping at everyone, and he had this strange, constant panic in his eyes. Like he knew something bad was going to happen and he couldn’t stop it.”

            “I’m glad you came to us,” Sailor Mercury stated, “This sounds like the work of a Youma.”

            “Do you think he’s still here?” asked Sailor Mars, quietly moving into a fighting stance.

            “I thought I told you to get the fuck out of here!” came a booming voice from around a mound of dirt.

            “Yeah, I’d say he’s still here,” Yota responded.

            “Tetsuya?” Sailor Moon called out, “We’re friends of Yota. We just want to talk.”

            “I don’t care who you’re friends of, you can fuck off!” came the same booming voice.

            “Tetsuya, I’m worried about you,” Yota asserted, “I think you might be possessed by one of those monsters from the news. Can you come out here and we can talk? We can fix this.”

            A tall, heavyset man emerged from the shadows, his eyes full of rage and terror. “The only thing I have to say to you and anyone else who feels like making it their business is fuck off!” he yelled, before picking up a cinder block and throwing it in the group’s general direction. It hit the ground and crumbled, the pieces rolling to the feet of the Sailor Scouts.

            “Is he normally that strong?” Sailor Mercury asked.

            “Oh yeah, that’s not unusual,” Yota responded.

            Tetsuya began to shake, before finally passing out. A beam of light erupted from his head and shot upward. At first, it seemed to just vanish.

            “Don’t let your guard down,” Sailor Mars advised.

            “Yeah, I’d expect any second now…” Sailor Moon began.

            The beam of light returned to the ground, and splintered off in all directions, where it hung in place, like a malevolent flower made of glowing energy. From the centre emerged a figure, crouched up but then unfurling herself to reveal a black-clad, busty blue-skinned woman. This was the Youma they were waiting for.

            “I’m afraid it won’t do you any good,” she called out malevolently, “For I am Bombela, and your road ends here!”

            Before the Scouts could act, Bombela raised a hand and focused, a small bomb appearing in her palm. She threw it at the Sailor Scouts, who scattered out of its range before it exploded on the pavement.

            Sailor Moon scampered to her feet and stood resolute. “I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! In the name of the moon, I shall right wrongs and triumph over evil! And that means you!” she recited, getting into a combat stance.

            “What a lovely speech,” Bombela cooed mockingly, “Well then, have at you!”

            The Scouts charged forward, and Bombela caught Sailor Mercury in the chin with a thrusting kick. She stayed on one foot and pirouetted to aim a kick at Sailor Mars, who caught it in her hand and threw Bombela’s foot back at Sailor Moon, who grabbed it and threw it in the air in an attempt to trip the Youma. Bombela backflipped and landed on both feet, before charging Sailor Mars. The two fired punches at each other, but neither could land a blow, the other managing to dodge or block every shot. Sailor Moon charged and tackled Bombela to the ground, where Sailor Mars leveled a swift kick at her midsection.

            Bombela gasped as the wind was knocked out of her, but quickly she managed to roll to her feet and charge forward again, ducking and aiming a forearm straight at Sailor Mars’ jaw. The blow connected, and Sailor Mars was sent careening backwards and onto her back. Bombela reached behind herself to where Sailor Moon was standing and grabbed onto her, judo-throwing her forward. By this time, Sailor Mercury had made it to her feet, and she ran and kicked Bombela in the spine, sending her crashing forward onto her hands and knees. Sailor Moon ran up and grabbed the Youma around the neck with her arm, forcing her downward and keeping her in place. Sailor Mars ran up and kicked her again, this time in the ribs. Sailor Mercury ran in and followed suit, causing Bombela to cough up a small amount of dark purple blood.

            “You… bastards!” Bombela cried through gritted teeth, slowly forcing her way to her feet despite Sailor Moon’s hold. She lifted Sailor Moon cleanly over her head and dropped her on the ground, then elbowed Sailor Mars, then Sailor Mercury, in the gut. She spun around and hit a spinning kick directly to Sailor Mars’ head, then grabbed Sailor Mercury by the head and dropped down, sending Sailor Mercury’s head colliding with the pavement. Seeing all three of her opponents down, she stood up, bolted to a nearby wall for cover, and began to manifest another bomb.

            “I told you,” she declared triumphantly, “Your road is over!”

            “No!” shouted Yota, before tackling Bombela through the wall. The drywall composing the wall exploded into a million pieces, burying the entrance he had just made, and shrouding the entire area in dust.

            “Yota!” cried Sailor Moon, as the three Scouts made it to their feet and began trying to pull the rubble away. Every time they pulled, more fell from the wall above, and it was quickly proving a fruitless task. After a few minutes, they were feeling quite disheartened.

            “There has to be another way in!” Sailor Mercury suggested.

            “I think I saw a door frame around the other side!” Sailor Mars remembered.

            The three of them ran around the side of the soon-to-be house and barreled through the empty door frame. Once inside, they could hear the noises of a struggle coming to the room to their right. They bolted in, and saw Yota and Bombela, bent over a countertop, in an extremely compromising position.

            “Oh my god!” cried out Bombela.

            “Is he…?” Sailor Moon tried to get the words out.

            “Fucking the Youma?” Sailor Mars finished.

            “Get away from him!” Sailor Moon shouted, pulling the two of them apart, “Alright, I’m finishing this! Moon… Tiara…”

            “No!” interrupted Yota, “Okay, I know how this looks, but we’ve worked it out, I swear!”

            “She’s a monster, and she’s trying to kill you!” Sailor Moon insisted.

            “Well I’m not trying to kill him now!” Bombela protested.

            “Shut up, Youma!” Sailor Moon exclaimed.

            “Excuse me?” Bombela demanded.

            “Really, guys, it’s okay,” Yota urged, “We got to talking, and we realized we actually have a lot in common.”

            “How could you possibly have anything in common with a monster?” Sailor Mars asked incredulously.

            “Well, I mean, we both have bosses who we’re constantly struggling to impress,” Yota explained, “We both feel like we’re never good enough, and we both sometimes wish we could escape.”

            “You worked that all out in the time it took us to get in here?” Sailor Mercury asked, bewildered.

            “It took you guys, like, five minutes,” Yota responded.

            “We were pulling at the rubble for a really long time,” Sailor Mercury acknowledged.

            “Okay, so how did you get from that to… this?” Sailor Moon asked.

            “Well, I told her I wanted to help her escape, and…” Yota began.

            “I’d never heard that before,” Bombela concluded, “I guess I kind of just threw myself at him.”

            “Hey, don’t think this act is fooling anyone!” Sailor Mars chided, “What happened to five seconds ago when you were all evil laughs and, ‘This is where your road ends!’?”

            “I… I was trying to be intimidating,” Bombela admitted, “Do you know how scary you girls are to someone like me?”

            “Really?” Sailor Moon gushed, briefly flattered by Bombela’s very not intended to be flattering words.

            “You guys have killed, like, twenty of my friends,” Bombela continued, “So yeah, excuse me for trying to get a mental edge.”

            “You really think that was going to make the difference?” Sailor Mars laughed, “Every single one of your friends tried the exact same tactic. We’re honestly kind of bored with it by now.”

            “Well, I’m sorry,” conceded Bombela, “If I’d known there was a way out, I never would have attacked you. I had you though, didn’t I? I was totally about to beat you all back there.”

            “Oh, our fight isn’t over,” Sailor Moon vowed.

            “It is on my end,” Bombela insisted, “I surrender or whatever.”

            “It’s too late for that,” Sailor Moon countered, reaching for her tiara, “There’s no forgiving what you’ve done.”

            “Don’t be like that,” Bombela responded, as a glowing light escaped her body and flew through the wall, “Here, what’s his face can have his energy back.”

            “I… err… well, I guess that’s more forgivable,” Sailor Moon stammered, “Wait, no, you’re a Youma! I know what you’re really up to!”

            “Jesus, take the win!” Bombela snapped.

            “Oh, we will!” Sailor Mars shouted before charging Bombela. Bombela stepped out of the way, and Sailor Mars put on the brakes and turned around. She charged again, and Bombela stepped out of the way again, but this time Sailor Moon caught her with a punch to the jaw. Bombela went down, but quickly made it to her feet, before Sailor Mars tackled her to the ground. The red Scout covered her foe with her body, and hooked her arm under her throat to lock in a sleeper hold. Bombela quickly made it to her feet and threw Sailor Mars aside, before dodging yet another punch from Sailor Moon, which missed its mark and instead went careening into Sailor Mars’ ribcage.

            “I don’t know how much clearer I can make this, I’m not fighting you guys anymore!” Bombela exclaimed angrily, “Yota, let’s get out of here.”

            “You’re not going anywhere!” Sailor Mars declared, “Mercury, a little help would be nice!”

            “I don’t know, guys,” Sailor Mercury admitted, “I kind of don’t feel great about the idea of beating up on an opponent who’s already surrendered.”

            “Finally, at least one of you is making sense!” Bombela yelled exasperatedly.

            “Have you lost your mind?” Sailor Mars asked incredulously, “She’s a monster from the Dark Kingdom! She hasn’t suddenly turned over a new leaf!”

            “What if she has?” Sailor Mercury countered, “Weirder things have happened.”

            “Look, you guys are really overthinking this,” Bombela sighed, “I had a job to do. I thought I had no choice. I turned out to be wrong. Can we please end this and just go home? Wherever home is for me now.”

            “Absolutely not!” Sailor Moon responded.

            “Well I’m not joining in,” Sailor Mercury disclosed, “I don’t feel right about this at all.”

            “What do you say?” Bombela laughed, “If the two of you want to keep trying and miserably failing to take me on, nothing I can say is going to stop you.”

            Sailors Moon and Mars thought it over for a second. As much as they both thought this was insane, neither of them were in the mood to keep acting in futility. Sailor Moon broke the silence.

            “Can the three of us at least talk this over as a team?” she asked.

            “Sure,” Sailor Mercury responded, “Shall we head to the shrine?”

            “That sounds like a plan,” Sailor Moon agreed, “But the two of you are coming with us.”

            “I guess I owe you that much,” said Bombela.

            “Wait, why do I have to come?” asked Yota.

            “You’re involved in this as much as anyone,” Sailor Moon answered, “And besides, we don’t want to let you out of our sight while there’s still a Youma after you.”

            “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Bombela laughed.

            “Making jokes is probably not in your best interest,” Sailor Mars snapped.

            The five of them walked, solemnly and silently, to the Sailor Scouts’ home base. When they got there, still without a word, the three Scouts went indoors, while Bombela and Yota sat down on the ground outside.

            “Did you really mean what you said back there?” Bombela asked, “About helping me escape?”

            “Of course,” Yota responded, “It sounds like you’ve been through hell. No one should have to live like that.”

            “But why are you willing to stick your neck out like that?” Bombela asked, “I’ve been nothing but trouble to you. Hell, I was trying to kill you. And your boss.”

            “I don’t really know if I can explain it,” Yota answered, “But once we got to talking, I just… I didn’t see that person anymore. I just saw someone who was scared and needed help.”

            “You’re a really good person,” Bombela responded softly.

            “Well I think you are too,” Yota rebutted, “You just need a chance to let yourself be.”

            “I meant what I said too,” Bombela said, “About not fighting the Sailor Scouts anymore. If they decide to kill me, I’m just going to run away. I can’t blame them for how they see me. Anyone who’s looked or acted like me has been trying to kill them. I wouldn’t trust me either. Hell, I barely trust myself as it is.”

            Yota took her hands in his. “I trust you,” he said, “I trust you enough for both of us.”

            “I don’t usually throw myself at guys like that,” Bombela laughed, “I just… in that moment, it was like something took hold of me—no, that’s not fair either. It was entirely me, I just knew there was something special about you.”

            “Well I really hope we get a chance to finish what we started,” Yota smiled.

            Meanwhile, inside, the Sailor Scouts looked at each other nervously.

            “Can… can we really afford to let a Youma go?” Sailor Moon asked, “I don’t trust her one bit.”

            “I don’t really trust her either,” Sailor Mercury admitted, “But at the same time, to what end would she be doing this? She’s not wrong, she’s had our number every time she’s tried to fight us. If she still wanted us dead, wouldn’t the easiest way be just to fight us? Kill Yota while she had him alone and then finish us off?”

            “I don’t really have an easy answer for that,” Sailor Mars conceded, “But doesn’t this just feel wrong? I can’t wrap my head around the idea of a Youma turning good.”

            “Well, if she’s telling the truth, maybe this isn’t really a question of anyone ‘turning good’,” Sailor Mercury suggested, “Maybe she really has wanted out of the Dark Kingdom for ages and just saw her moment?”

            “Why would she want out of the Dark Kingdom though?” Sailor Moon asked, “Aren’t they kind of her type of people?”

            “Maybe not,” Sailor Mercury opined, “I mean, how much do we really know about how the Dark Kingdom operates internally? We know that Queen Beryl killed Jadeite for failing her too many times, and from what we’ve seen, they tend to treat the Youma as at least pretty disposable. Maybe they’re just as horrible an organization from the inside as they are from the outside.”

            “I guess I never thought of it like that,” Sailor Moon admitted.

            “Does it really matter though?” Sailor Mars asked, “I mean, regardless of how they’ve got there, every member of the Dark Kingdom we’ve ever encountered has swallowed the Kool-Aid pretty hard. Regardless of how they got to be so evil, the fact remains they are that evil.”

            “What if it’s not all brainwashing?” Sailor Mercury proposed, “What if some of them really are kept in line, actively, through fear? What if she really does still want a way out?”

            “I don’t think we can answer this on our own,” Sailor Moon observed, before opening the door and calling to the outside, “Yota, we need to talk to you.”

            Yota came inside. “What do you need to know?” he asked.

            “First thing’s first,” Sailor Mars responded, “Mercury, guard our other ‘guest’ outside.” Sailor Mercury did as was suggested, and went outside to keep an eye on Bombela.

            “So what happened in there?” Sailor Moon asked.

            “Well,” Yota began, “After we crashed through the wall, she grabbed me by the throat, and started strangling me. But then she let me go, which really caught me by surprise, and said something about not needing any more blood on her hands. Before I knew it, she was just launching into this story about how her bosses at something called the Dark Kingdom were putting all this pressure on her, how they’d told her they’d kill her if she didn’t get the job done, and how she sometimes wished she could just run away. I could relate, I mean definitely not to the killing part, although sometimes Tetsuya has said those exact words to me when I mess up. But obviously he doesn’t mean it literally. He’s a good dude. Anyway, I told her that, if we all made it out of this alive, I’d like to help her run away. Then it was like her whole demeanor changed. Suddenly she wasn’t this big, scary monster. She just turned into this… scared lost soul, and I’m honestly not sure which of us moved first. But we just started kissing each other, like, really kissing each other. And then one thing led to another, and, well, you saw it. I can’t really describe what came over us, it was just this beautiful, magic moment between two people who saw each other fully and wanted nothing more than each other.”

            As Yota wrapped up his story, he observed that Sailor Moon had teared up. “That’s beautiful,” she said softly, “You two deserve to be happy together.”

            “Oh god, another one picks up the looney ball,” Sailor Mars sighed exasperatedly, “Am I the only one who realizes she’s working us?”

            “How can you be so cynical?” Sailor Moon snapped.

            “It’s so obvious!” Sailor Mars yelled, “She’s a monster! She tried to kill us! All of us! What more proof do you need?”

            “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a boyfriend!” Sailor Moon shot back.

            “You don’t have a boyfriend either!” Sailor Mars shouted.

            “Maybe not, but I’m a natural romantic, apparently unlike some people!” Sailor Moon responded.

            “I think we’re getting a bit off track,” Yota suggested.

            “Right,” Sailor Moon replied, “Look, bottom line is, I’m not down for killing her now either.”

            As this heated conversation was raging indoors, Sailor Mercury was growing increasingly anxious in the silence shared between her and Bombela, and she decided to break it. “What’s it like in the Dark Kingdom?” she asked.

            “Oh god, it’s awful,” Bombela answered, “Everyone’s always walking around with one hand behind their backs, afraid to get stabbed in the back, or offend one of the higher-ups, and end up the victim of one of Queen Beryl’s beloved public executions. You know I’ve been there thirty years and I’ve never even met her? Not personally, anyway, obviously I have to be there at the public gatherings like anyone else. But she’s an absolute narcissist. I was no big fan of Jadeite, but the amount she’d publicly dress him down just to soothe her own ego was honestly just kind of gross. No one will say it, but we all think Nephrite’s looking for a way out. And I wouldn’t blame him one bit, ever since he took over Jadeite’s role, it’s like she’s determined to make sure he takes his role in all ways. Honestly, when I found out it was my turn next to fight you guys, there was part of me that was just looking forward to having a day away from that place. Even if, if precedent was any indication, it was going to be my last.”

            “You thought we’d beat you?” Sailor Mercury asked.

            “I figured it was at least in the cards,” Bombela replied, “The three of you have taken down a lot of people I thought would have gotten the better of you. Thetis, Murido, hell, even Kyurene I thought would at least make it back safely. But no, every single one of them turned to ash at the hands of that damn tiara. So did part of me think I would be the special one? Yeah, but part of me really didn’t.”

            “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re going to kill you tonight,” Sailor Mercury offered.

            “Thanks for having my back,” Bombela smiled, “It really helps to know I have at least one ally on the Sailor Scouts.”

            “So what was your life like before the Dark Kingdom?” Sailor Mercury asked.

            “As far as I know, I’ve just always been there,” Bombela answered, “We’re told that Queen Beryl created us all to serve her. Although between you and me, I have my doubts. I’ve never seen her create a Youma, and no one else I’ve talked to has.”

            “You openly expressed doubts?” Sailor Mercury gawked.

            “Kind of sort of, not really,” replied Bombela, “Some of us, when we were feeling really comfortable, would at least imply that we thought something was up, but never anything big. You never dared be perceived as disloyal. I saw people die for less than outright questioning the Queen.”

            “That sounds really hard,” Sailor Mercury smiled sadly.

            “It really was,” Bombela admitted.

            “Can… can I hug you?” Sailor Mercury asked, “I don’t want to if you think it would be weird.”

            Bombela responded by grabbing Sailor Mercury tensely and pulling her in for a tight hug. Sailor Mercury responded in kind, and they sat there, silently embracing, before Sailor Mercury felt a drop land on her back and realized that Bombela was crying.

            “Okay,” came Sailor Moon’s voice from the door, “We’re ready for everyone to come inside.”

            Bombela and Sailor Mercury both got up nervously, Bombela’s anxiety being of an entirely different type and magnitude. Was this a trap? Were they luring her inside to lay the final blow? Would she even know it was coming, or were they looking to get the drop on her? She winced as she crossed the threshold of the door, half expecting to see the tiara flying toward her. Instead, she was greeted with a warm smile from Sailor Moon, an excited grin from Yota, and an icy stare from Sailor Mars.

            “It’s academic at this point,” Sailor Moon announced, “But we’re going to take a Sailor Scout vote. All in favour of letting Bombela go?”

            Sailors Mercury and Moon put up their hands excitedly. Bombela breathed a sigh of relief, and slunk against the wall, unclenching the tension she had been holding since they got there, and landing on the floor.

            “I want the record to show I’m very against this,” Sailor Mars sneered, “But I’m not prepared to fight my fellow Scouts, so go ahead, prove me right.”

            “Well now I have to prove you wrong extra hard, out of spite,” Bombela smiled.

            “I’ll rescind at least some of my doubt if you can answer just this one question,” Sailor Mars sighed, “What is it you want?”

            “I want a normal life,” Bombela answered, “Or at least as close to it as a monster girl on the run from her former employers can get. I want to have interactions where death isn’t hovering in the background like some kind of evil spectre. I want to pour myself a hot bath, I want to hear birds when I wake up in the morning, I want to find love and not worry who will find out about it. I want to find out if I’ve already found it.”

            Yota beamed at this response. Sailor Mars closed her eyes in a mixture of frustration and concession. “That’s a good answer,” she acknowledged, “Look, I’d love to be proven wrong on this one, so if that’s what you’re going to do, I hope you find everything you’re looking for. But I still don’t trust you even a little bit.”

            “That’s okay,” Bombela replied, “I wouldn’t expect any of you to trust me after the way tonight began. But I promise I’m not who, or what, you think I am. And I look forward to proving that. If all goes right, tonight will be the last you hear of me.”

            Sailor Mars sighed. “Just get the fuck out of here,” she chided.

            “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Bombela beamed, “Yota, let’s get out of here.”

            Yota and Bombela headed for the door. Just before stepping out, Bombela turned and looked at the Scouts. “I just need to ask one final thing of you,” she said.

            “What is it?” Sailor Moon asked.

            “Kick Queen Beryl’s ass, so I can come out of hiding someday,” Bombela answered.

            “You know it!” Sailor Moon grinned.

            Bombela and Yota stepped out the door and into the world. It was a world that felt fresher, lighter than it ever had. Bombela looked up at the moon, bright and crisp in the night sky. She thought about how the moon had just saved her life, how three girls who she thought would be the death of her ended up giving her something she had never had: a free and clear life. She brushed aside tears of happiness and gave Yota a big hug, bigger and deeper and longer than she had ever given anyone. She wasn’t sure she’d truly known what a hug was, what it really meant, until this moment.

            “So what now?” Yota asked.

            “I’m… I’m honestly not sure. Things are way better, but I guess in a lot of ways, things don’t get too much easier for now. I’ll have to go into hiding. I can disguise myself as a human, and that should help a lot, but there are still a lot of unknowns,” she answered, “I don’t know what tomorrow brings, I don’t know if the Dark Kingdom will send people after me, I don’t even know where I go for now.”

            “You can stay with me,” Yota answered, as they began walking, “I promised that I would help you escape, and I fully intend to keep that promise.”

            “I… I think I love you,” Bombela confessed, “Is it weird that I’m saying that? I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with relationships.”

            “I think in normal circumstances it would be,” Yota answered, “But given all we’ve been through tonight? We’re not exactly getting off to a normal start. And I think I love you too.”

            “This is all really happening, isn’t it?” she sighed happily, “It’s really over. I never have to go back to the Dark Kingdom. I never have to see Queen Beryl again, never have to witness another public execution of one of my friends, never have to sit in my room feeling like the walls are closing in around me, I can just… be.”

            “It’s pretty magical, isn’t it?” he smiled.

            “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she grinned.

            “I should warn you, my place is pretty cramped,” he noted.

            “I can’t imagine we’ll need much space,” she replied.

            “Oh? What do you have in mind?” Yota asked playfully.

            “I am going to absolutely fuck your brains out tonight,” she smiled plainly.

            “So Sailor Mars was right, you do intend to kill me tonight,” he laughed.

            “Kill? No. But I can’t guarantee you’ll have full use of your legs,” she replied, grinning with her tongue between her teeth.

            “I’m doomed,” he sighed contentedly.

            “Thank you,” she began, “Thank you so much for everything. I was just some stranger trying to do you harm, and you went out of your way to see through all that and see me for real. You’re a special person, and I hope you never forget it.”

            “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting it after tonight,” he replied, “But give yourself some credit too. This all started because you had a job to do, and you took it upon yourself to compromise your own mission just to help out a random bystander. You’re a special person too. You did more than you know.”

            “Yeah, I am pretty kickass,” she smiled.

            “So what do you plan on doing with your life once this is all over?” he asked.

            “I honestly haven’t really had any time to think about it,” she answered, “I guess once this is really all over, I won’t have to hide who I am, so maybe I could come work with you? You know, free explosives for life. If you wouldn’t feel like I was stepping on your toes, I mean.”

            “I can practically hear the dollar signs ringing in my boss’s eyes,” he observed, “Speaking of which, is it okay if I tell him about all this? He might give me a hard time sometimes, but Tetsuya is really my closest friend, my confidante. Plus I guarantee he’ll be cool about everything.”

            “I guess I do owe him an apology, at the very least,” she acknowledged.

            “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll invite him for dinner tomorrow. I’ll make my fried rice, it’s one of his favourites, and I think you’ll really like it. We can talk everything over, and he can get a chance to know you.”

            “I think I’d like that,” she responded.

            “I think he will too,” he responded, “Well, this is home.”

            They entered a large apartment building. Yota put his key through the front door, and they took the elevator to his floor and stepped off. He put his key in his front door, and she tackled him through the front door and began kissing him passionately. Yota quickly recovered and began moving in the direction of his couch, where he lay Bombela down and began kissing her neck. She gasped in rapture and pulled his shirt off, then began running her hands up and down his body, his tight, construction worker abs, his strong, muscular arms, then finally she ran her hands down his torso into his pants, to feel him already erect. He let out a moan of pleasure as he felt her hands caress his penis. He slid his pants off as she removed her shirt to reveal her perky, vibrant breasts, which heaved as her breathing quickened. He returned to the couch and slid her tight shorts off, pausing as she arched her pelvis to enable him. He kissed her feverishly, then slid his hands between her legs and caressed her labia, then clutched her firm buttocks with both hands and began to suck one of her nipples. She let out a small, short gasp, and he felt her begin to get wet.

            “Not here,” he moaned, “The bedroom.”

            They got up and ran to his bedroom, where he picked her up and threw her on the bed. He kissed her with renewed passion, then slid his tongue down her neck, between her breasts, down her toned, muscular abdomen, to his ultimate goal, her moist, eager vulva. He began to lick, as she lifted her pelvis up off the bed and began to moan in equal parts pleasure and anticipation. He licked diligently, taking in her every gasp and moan, every sound she made driving him more and more wild. Finally, she wrapped her legs around his head and threw her own head back in a pulsating, full-body orgasm. He continued to lick as she rode her orgasm to completion, then jumped up and slowly, gently entered her. She wrapped her arms around his head as he thrust slowly, steadily, rhythmically. It wasn’t long before she was thrown into another orgasm, and he kept his pace with almost fanatical precision until she collapsed on the bed, gasping for breath but craving him more and more. He lifted one of her legs and placed it on his opposing shoulder, continuing his steady pace.

            “I love you!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

            “I love you too,” he whispered, continuing relentlessly as sweat began to bead on his forehead. She began to thrust in rhythm with him, every thrust seemingly taking him deeper into her, and every moan and whimper from her only making him want her more. She came to another orgasm, and he released her leg and began kissing her again. She playfully and gently bit his lips, and he clutched her breasts with both hands as he felt himself begin to climax. Sensing that the end was coming, she moaned even harder, and finally, he orgasmed with a torrent of hot, thick semen into her vagina. The sensation brought her to one final orgasm of her own, and they both collapsed on top of each other, spent.

            “That was… wow,” he gasped.

            “That was… actually my first time,” she confessed.

            “Really?” he asked, “That was… amazing. Most people’s first times aren’t nearly that memorable.”

            “I guess I just had the right dance partner,” she sighed contendedly.

            “So… this is my home,” he said, “It’s not much, but I like it.”

            “It’s wonderful,” she replied, looking around for the first time. His bedroom was small, a modest dresser in the corner and a full-length mirror. Pin-ups adorned his wall, and his twin bed was covered in plain, albeit now wrinkled, sheets.

            “Want to take a proper look around?” he asked.

            “In the morning, sure,” she laughed, “Right now, though? I’m really tired.”

            “Oh god, me too,” he admitted.

            They wrapped their arms around each other, and sleep found them quickly. They both slept deeply, until morning, when he woke up, squeezed her tightly, and left silently for work. She woke up a few hours later, her abs sore from the night before, and got up.

            His living room was similarly modest, the couch she had gotten to know last night, plus a fairly decent entertainment stand with a stereo and television. She thumbed through his CD collection, settling on The Cure, and put it on as she headed to his bathroom. She stepped into his bathtub and took a long, steamy shower, letting both the horror and the ecstasy of the previous night wash off her and down the drain below. This was really it, her life now. This apartment would be where she would be spending nearly all of her time from now until what she hoped would be the eventual collapse of the Dark Kingdom. For some, it would be like a prison sentence, but for her, it was perfect, it was home, it was freedom. She put on one of his t-shirts and a pair of pants, pulling a belt tightly around herself to make up for their wildly different waistlines. She sat down to his entertainment stand, pulled out his SNES, and began to thumb through his video game collection, unsure of what any of it meant.

            Yota wasn’t sure how his day at work was going to go. He arrived on site at seven AM sharp, with two cups of coffee.

            “Oh god, you’re a lifesaver,” said Tetsuya as Yota handed him one of the cups.

            “Interesting choice of words,” Yota smiled, as he took a sip of the hot, brown liquid.

            “I am so sorry about last night,” Tetsuya opined, “I really don’t know what came over me, I was acting like a complete madman.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Yota assured him, “You weren’t yourself. Literally. Just a good thing the Sailor Scouts showed up when they did.”

            “So what happened?” Tetsuya asked, “I’m guessing by the fact that I’m still here that they killed the monster. Was it a big fight? Did you get hurt? If you need to take the day off, I totally get it.”

            “Funny you should mention that,” Yota began, “She’s… actually still alive. Gave your energy back willingly.”

            “Didn’t think the Sailor Scouts were the type to let someone off with a warning,” Tetsuya chuckled.

            “It wasn’t like that,” Yota elaborated, “She gave your energy back willingly and gave up under no duress. Turns out working for the bad guys is awful, and she wanted out. So we gave her a way out.”

            “Huh, never thought I’d see that,” Tetsuya mused.

            “Yeah, she actually turned out to be really nice once her guard was down,” Yota continued, “She’s… she’s actually kind of my girlfriend now.”

            “Sweet Jesus, how much did I miss?” Tetsuya laughed.

            “I just hope you don’t mind,” Yota insisted, “I mean, she did do something pretty awful to you. But I swear, that’s not what she’s really like. She just felt like she had no other option. She’s actually really sweet.”

            “I mean, I’m not exactly doing cartwheels about it, but if you say she’s alright, I trust your judgment,” Tetsuya answered.

            “Actually, if you’re up for it, I thought maybe you could come over for dinner tonight and meet her?” Yota suggested.

            A slightly nervous look broke out on Tetsuya’s face. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, “I mean, I’m alright to shoot the shit and trade stories about it, but actually meeting her, I don’t know, it might just be too soon.”

            “If you don’t feel comfortable, we absolutely don’t have to,” Yota conceded, “But whenever you’re ready, she just wants to apologize.”

            “Nah, you know what? Fuck it,” Tetsuya responded, an only slightly forced look of determination crossing his face, “If she’s really as great as you say, I owe her at least the chance to make things square with me. Yeah, you know what? I’ll be there.”

            “Great, see you then!” Yota smiled, before hopping off to start his day.

            The rest of the working day was surprisingly paint by numbers. After they were finished repairing the damage from the night before, the crew got to finishing the outside of the house they were building.

            Yota made it home at the end of the day to find Bombela playing video games. She looked up at him and smiled. “How was work?” she asked.

            “Work was really good,” he answered, “It was great just to get back to business as usual. I wasn’t sure how everything would go after last night, so it was really relaxing just to have some normal.”

            “Is Tetsuya coming over?” she asked.

            “Yeah, he should be here in about two hours,” he answered.

            “I should probably clean up a bit,” she laughed, “I’ve sort of just been here on the couch most of the day. Turns out I’m pretty good at something called Super Mario World. Who knew?”

            “Oh man, that’s such a good game!” he beamed, “How far did you get?”

            “I’ve cleared three castles so far,” she responded, “Beating those lizard dudes at the end of the castle is my favourite part so far. Kind of reminds me of home. Except I get to be the one kicking their asses.”

            “You wanna try a two person game?” he asked.

            “There are two person games?” she gasped, her eyes bright.

            “You… really don’t know a lot about video games, do you?” he observed.

            “Yeah, we didn’t really have much time for leisure at the Kingdom,” she opined, “I always knew video games were a thing, but we never saw them. I know Jadeite used to have a Mega Drive in his room, and Nephrite would sometimes let the Youma play his NES, but that was about it. I’ve only played Super Mario Bros once. That’s why I picked Super Mario World, I recognized the characters. Cool to see what the little dude got up to since then. You’d think the Princess would get better at not being captured.”

            “You feel like sticking with the same characters, or you want to try something new?” he asked.

            “I’m really happy either way,” she answered.

            “Okay then,” he smiled, “I think it’s time to introduce you to Mario Kart.”

            For the next hour, the two of them faced off on every course, some two or three times. Yota won the majority of races, but Bombela took to the game naturally, like she’d been playing for years.

            “Okay, that was a lot of fun, but now I really should clean up a bit,” she suggested.

            “You haven’t really made much of a mess,” he observed, “We’re probably fine. I don’t even see any dishes in the sink.”

            “Oh, I didn’t eat anything,” she pointed out.

            “You haven’t eaten since yesterday?” he gawked.

            “It’s no big deal, I wasn’t really hungry,” she insisted.

            “Still, you need to eat regularly!” he countered, “Seriously, any time you feel like it, what’s mine is yours. For the love of god, don’t go a whole day without eating!”

            “Sorry,” she conceded, “It just takes some getting used to, having everything I need.”

            “It’s okay,” he assured her, “Just please promise me you won’t starve yourself.”

            “Honestly, one day is nothing,” she stated matter-of-factly, “I remember once I forgot to clean up the dojo after training, and they made me go five days without food.”

            “That… that sounds horrible,” he replied sadly, “You don’t ever have to do that again, you’re safe now.”

            “I know,” she responded, “Thank you again, for everything.”

            “I love you,” he told her.

            “I love you too! So if we don’t have to clean up, maybe we could find some other way to kill an hour?” she suggested.

            “I like where your mind is at,” he smiled.

            Without exchanging a word, they both bolted for the bedroom. Bombela discarded her boyfriend’s oversized Antonio Inoki t-shirt and jeans, while Yota stripped himself with vigour. Bombela tackled him onto the bed and began stroking his penis. His eyes rolled into the back of his head in pleasure as he quickly became erect. He grabbed her breasts with both hands and they began kissing frenetically, as though trying to consume each other. She broke contact and began playing with his testicles with one hand, while steadying herself with the other. He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her in tight, running his other hand along her muscular back, as she gently maneuvered his penis inside of her. He let out a contented sigh and began to thrust, as she rocked back and forth, grinding her clitoris across his pelvis with each rotation. It wasn’t long before she threw herself back and pressed harder and harder, letting out a deep and wobbly orgasm atop him. He grabbed her hips and pulled them in to the same rhythm as his thrusting, and the two of them moaned in synchronized pleasure, eyes closed, both of them lost in the feel of each other’s bodies. When their eyes opened, they met each other’s gaze, and Bombela lay forward once again. Yota clutched her firm buttocks in both hands and began to thrust in a more angular fashion, shallow but rough, driving her wild. Before long, he ejaculated up into her, and the sensation gave her one last orgasm before she collapsed on top of him.

            “You are amazing,” he sighed breathlessly.

            “You can’t be real,” she laughed, “This has to be some kind of fever dream.”

            “If I’m not real, I have a lot of questions,” he smiled, “Err… I guess I don’t? Shit, this could be one for the existentialists.”

            “If Jean-Paul Sartre can fuck half as good as you, you might have some competition. Or you would if he hadn’t been dead for the past decade,” she rejoined.

            “Well let’s dig him up and ask,” he laughed.

            “I was always more of a Camus girl anyway,” she grinned.

            “Wait, so Super Mario World is a whole new universe for you, but you can name-check Sartre and Camus?” he asked.

            “Well yeah, we were encouraged to read philosophy,” she responded, “An educated mind is a dangerous mind, at least that’s what we were taught.”

            “You’re certainly proving dangerous,” he rebutted.

            “Boy, you haven’t seen the half of it,” she insisted, “Now I should probably get dressed. My clothes must be dry by now.”

            “You did laundry?” he asked.

            “Just what I was wearing yesterday, in the sink,” she answered.

            “So I guess you only have the one outfit now,” he pondered.

            “I guess so,” she laughed.

            The two of them slowly rose from the bed and made their way to the kitchen, where Bombela put on her clothes from the day before. They felt strange, like she didn’t identify with them anymore. They felt inextricably tied to her old life, but they were all she had, so she put them on.

            “I need to get some new clothes,” she remarked offhandedly.

            “I mean, if it’s either that or keep wearing the same outfit every time you go out,” he responded.

            “I guess I can probably go out from time to time,” she thought out loud, before more deliberately turning to Yota, “I’ve been working on this human disguise for a few weeks now, never actually showed anyone at the Dark Kingdom. Which, in retrospect, is incredibly lucky for me.”

            She closed her eyes, and in an instant, standing before Yota was a woman who looked exactly like Bombela, but with golden skin and an epicanthic fold on each eye. “How do I look?” she asked.

            “I mean, the disguise is flawless,” he answered, “But I think I prefer you the way you actually look.”

            She closed her eyes again and returned to normal. “I don’t really like it either,” she admitted, “But it’ll get me to and from the apartment without arousing too much suspicion.”

            “Do you think they’ll look for you?” he asked.

            “Almost definitely,” she answered, “They don’t tend to let too much go. They’ll probably send Yasha, she’s an absolute fanatic. I don’t think my girl Kyameran would agree to it, but if they force her, we better hope she doesn’t find us.”

            “Not someone to mess with?” he asked.

            “We’d be dead before we even knew what happened,” she answered.

            “Man, what did I get myself into?” he asked rhetorically.

            “If it’s too much, we can always go our separate ways,” she said reluctantly.

            “Absolutely not,” he responded, “I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. Besides, there’s still the small matter of my being absolutely in love with you.”

            Those words sent a shiver down Bombela’s spine. She exhaled deeply, taking in the new and ecstatic sensation of being loved. “I love you too,” she sighed joyfully.

            They exchanged a long, slow, deliberate kiss, before Yota made his way to the kitchen area and started preparing dinner. Bombela sat and watched eagerly. Back home, food was not an event. Except for the head chef who served Queen Beryl and the Shitennou, the cooks were all Youma who weren’t considered strong or powerful enough to go on missions, and they were never to be watched, instead they were to be treated with moderate disdain, as failures. As a consequence, the food wasn’t very good. Although Bombela had nothing to compare it to, she knew tonight would be different. This was a meal prepared with passion and love, by someone with skill. She watched intently as grains of rice, bits of leek, carrot, mushroom, shrimp, and napa cabbage flew through the air and back into the pan.

            “This is going to blow your mind,” Yota promised.

            “I’m so looking forward to it,” Bombela opined, her mouth watering more and more with each flick of the spatula.

            There came a knock on the door. “That must be him,” Yota observed.

            “Should I?” Bombela asked, motioning to the door.

            “I think it’s best if I’m the first face he sees,” Yota answered. He walked over and opened the door, “Hey boss!”

            “Yota, you bastard, how the hell are you?” Tetsuya bellowed with gusto, as he stepped through the door. When he saw Bombela, his energy visibly changed. Although he tried to hide it, he moved nervously. His face, previously looking like it was about to say something, fell still and solemn.”

            “Hi, I’m Bombela,” Bombela offered sheepishly, offering a bow, which Tetsuya returned absentmindedly, as though going through the motions.

            The three of them stood in silence for a few seconds, the tension in the air so palpable that at times it felt like it could be inhaled.

            “I guess we should probably just jump straight into this,” Bombela continued, “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. I was in a bad situation, and felt like I had no choice, and I promise I’m better now. Yota really helped me out. But none of my saying that can possibly take away what you must have felt and what I want to put you through. So while I want to stress how sorry I am, I also want to make it clear that I recognize your right to still be mad at me, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, especially not right away.”

            “Last night,” Tetsuya began, “I felt like I was losing my mind, but I also felt like I was going to die. It was like my brain was going at the speed of sound, every thought flitting across my bran for a moment and then dying. I thought I was having a stroke, I thought I was having a heart attack, for a while I was convinced my brain was about to explode. It was, absolutely and unequivocally, both the scariest and the most unpleasant experience of my life. And I can’t forget that you did that to me. But seeing you here, coming to me person to person, laying all your cards on the table and not only apologizing, but giving me the space I need to process it, I can’t help but see where you’re coming from. In my younger days, I flirted with joining a gang, and I remember some of the things I felt like I had to do, and how sorry I was afterward, and how much I wish I could’ve apologized to those involved. So I believe you when you say you’re sorry. And I do forgive you. But it might take a while before we’re completely cool.”

            “Understood,” Bombela nodded, “Take as much time as you need.”

            “So how is he in bed?” Tetsuya grinned.

            “I—what?” Bombela stammered.

            “I’m just saying, he’s always telling me stories about girls he’s brought home, this is the first time I’ve actually gotten to meet one,” Tetsuya laughed.

            “Boss, I’m not sure that’s appropriate dinner conversation,” Yota interjected.

            “Gotta break the ice somehow,” Tetsuya countered.

            “He’s… good?” Bombela responded, “Good sex? Sex good?”

            “I want details!” Tetsuya insisted, pouring himself a double whiskey.

            “He’s… actually my first,” Bombela admitted, “So I guess I don’t have much of a baseline. But he’s caring, and tender, and he makes me feel safe.”

            “In bed, you mean,” Tetsuya ribbed.

            “In bed too,” Bombela deflected.

            “Rice is ready,” Yota interrupted, filling three bowls and placing them at the settings he’d set up.

            The three ate joyfully, and for the duration of their dinner, the conversation flowed naturally, like three old friends who had known each other for years. Bombela tried to suppress her guilt at the fact that this man in front of her, the man making her laugh with dirty jokes, telling her stories about her boyfriend on the job, that this was the same person she’d nearly killed only one night before. Still, atop the low hum of her own remorse, she was really having a good time.

            “And so here’s this fucker,” Tetsuya roared through gales of laughter, “Hanging upside down held up by a fucking cable, and he yells out, ‘I’ve still got this!’”

            “Oh my god!” Bombela laughed, trying not to spit out her beer.

            “And then the bastard turns to the wall and keeps stapling in the tarp!” Tetsuya bellowed.

            Bombela’s attempts to keep all her beer in her mouth met a swift and vicious end as she sprayed it all over the table and doubled over with laughter.

            “Hey, I don’t stop,” Yota laughed.

            “I think you could’ve been forgiven!” Tetsuya exclaimed before taking another drink of whiskey.

            “So how long have you two worked together?” Bombela asked, before taking another bite of rice.

            “Seven years next week,” Yota answered.

            “Oh shit, that’s right, it’s your work anniversary next week!” Tetsuya realized, “I better get the cake ordered.”

            “Promise I’m not going to end up wearing it this time?” Yota asked facetiously.

            “I absolutely do not promise that,” Tetsuya countered.

            “Just one year I’d like to at least take a bite with a fork,” Yota laughed.

            “It’s good to have dreams, kid!” Tetsuya deadpanned, slapping him on the back.

            At this point, Yota noticed that everyone was done, so he cleared the table. “Shall we head into the living room?” he asked.

            “You don’t have a living room,” Tetsuya quipped.

            “Shall we head into the living room part of this big room that makes up most of my apartment?” Yota responded.

            “Sure, let me just freshen up the glass,” Tetsuya answered, pouring himself another generous portion of whiskey.

            “You going to be good to drive?” Yota asked.

            “I took the bus here,” Tetsuya assured him, “I know better than to expect to stay sober at Yota’s place.”

            “How you manage to come to work and function at 100% while hungover, I’ll never know,” Yota laughed.

            The three of them sat down on Yota’s couch, and Bombela opened another beer.

            “Look, Bombela,” Tetsuya began, suddenly a lot more serious than before, “About everything I said earlier. I can tell you’ve got a good heart, and you’re good for my boy over here. So forget what I said, we’re cool.”

            “That means the world to me,” Bombela smiled.

            “And hey, if you’re looking for work you can do incognito, it sounds like your skill set might be good for certain projects, I can hide you from everyone else while you do your thing,” Tetsuya suggested, “You know, if working with your bombs doesn’t remind you too much of your old life.”

            “No, no, that sounds amazing,” Bombela replied, “That would solve so many of my problems.”

            “Welcome to the team, kid,” Tetsuya grinned.

            Bombela took a long swig of her beer and sat back. In less than twenty-four hours, her entire life had turned around completely. She had a boyfriend, a boss, and she was making friends. She closed her eyes and sank into the couch. She wasn’t sure how life could get any better.