Penance

by faelyn leaf

9/14

Chapter Nine

The meeting at the shrine was even quieter than usual. As the silence dragged on, Rei allowed her mind to wander. The Dark Kingdom had been quiet since the ambush two nights ago, but the attack was fresh on their minds. It didn't make any sense. They should be dead – it wouldn't have taken much, not in the shape they had been in, so why weren't they?

Rei frowned as she sipped on her tea. That shadow she had spotted during the battle, had it really been Mamoru? She couldn't be sure, all she had seen was a flash of red, but it it was him, why hadn't he finished them off then and there? Was he after something? She traced her fingers around the rim of her cup absent-mindedly. As always the thought of Mamoru made her a little wistful. Men were ruled by their base emotions, she had learnt that from her father, grandfather, and Kaidou. From them, she had also learnt that men were never to be trusted, but Mamoru had been better than most. She had almost ...

Rei blinked. He would have been good for Usagi.

That was not the only reason she felt on edge and wary. Something had happened last night, Phobos and Deimos seemed to be calm, but Rei could sense something just outside her vision. It unnerved her, she hated to be kept in the dark.

"Maybe they've given up?" suggested Makoto, breaking the silence.

"Doubtful," Ami said, shaking her hair. "I've been looking through the data collected from the last battle and the Dark Kingdom could have easily finished it right then and there."

Makoto opened her mouth to protest, but Ami shrugged a little too helplessly and it kept her quiet.

"So we lucked in," Minako said.

Ami squeezed her eyes shut. "Out," she sighed.

"In, out, what's the difference?" Minako tried to smile, but the expression was forced and they all fell silent again.

Rei looked at her friends apprehensively. The past month had been hard on all of them, but it was now starting to show. Outwardly everyone looked tired and drawn out, and inwardly they were starting to fray around the edges. Without Usagi, they were senshi with nothing to protect but Earth itself. Without the cats, they had to figure out how to do that on their own. She briefly wondered what they had done to deserve this kind of karma. The words 'betrayal', 'treason', and 'sin' came to the forefront of her thoughts before she dropped the train of thought.

"I don't think it was luck, either," Rei said, more to deride herself than anything.

"You said you may have seen something that night?" Ami prompted.

Rei put down her tea cup. "I'm not sure," she said honestly. "I thought it could have been Mamoru, but it might have been –"

"Wishful thinking?" Minako jabbed.

Rei shot her a glare. "It might have been nothing." She shrugged. "It was just a shadow."

"It wasn't just luck we survived," Ami said forcefully. "If Mamoru was there," she nodded to Rei, "that would make it even more unlikely. Perhaps the ambush was nothing more than a simple distraction,"she asked speculatively, mulling over her thoughts. She frowned, obviously not liking the idea that was coming to her. "It's possible they wanted to track the ginzuishou's energy signal, but –"

"No way," Makoto said, catching onto Ami's line of reasoning. "Usagi's all snuggled up tight with Luna. They haven't found her."

Rei agreed and said as much. "I would have sensed something like that." The fire hadn't been as forthcoming as it usually was, but it would have told her if anything was wrong with Usagi. She would have known.

"Ami hid her too well." Makoto grinned.

The rest of them smiled tentatively.

"I wish Artemis was here," Minako said, staring morosely at the the floor. She looked up at them, and Rei felt a twinge of guilt; they hadn't helped her look for Artemis in weeks. "That damn cat never keeps his mouth shut," Minako went on, "but at least he always had a plan."

"Minako," Ami said cautiously, and worried at her lip, "have you thought that he might be ..." she trailed off.

"He's not dead."

"Minako," Ami said reasonably, "we aren't saying that. We just want you to be prepared for that particular eventuality." She winced, and Rei knew she wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them.

"He'd not dead!" Minako said forcefully. "I'd know if he was," she sniffled in a softer voice.

"Of course he's not." Makoto put a soothing arm around Minako's shoulders. "Don't worry, Minako, we'll find him."

Minako nodded. "He better not have taken that Caribbean vacation he's always threatening," she muttered crossly, and wiped a tear from her eye. "At least not without me. I need a tan, and the only thing he'd use a beach for is a giant litter box."

Rei found herself smiling, a real one this time. "It's better than him trying to pick up a date."

"You're right." Minako smiled wickedly. "Maybe I should get him fixed when he comes home. Wouldn't have to worry about surprise kittens then."

"I'm sure he would pay child support!" Ami fretted.

"Artemis?" Minako asked incredulously. "He'd be a deadbeat. He has no money, and who'd want to hire a cat?"

"Besides, Luna'd beat him to death," Makoto added.

The three of them chuckled, and Ami turned a delicate shade of pink.

"So what do we without him?" Makoto asked.

"I don't know," Minako said, defeated. "Never wanted to put myself in his paws before."

"We'll have to think of something on our own." Rei said, and ran a hand through her hair.

"Yeah," Makoto said. "We're senshi, we can do this ourselves! It's what we're born to do."

"Rei," Ami asked suddenly, "what does it mean if you really had seen Mamoru?"

Rei had no answer. She could only wish she did.

xXx

Mamoru woke up with a thundering heart and racing pulse. He couldn't remember where he was, and even before he opened his eyes, everything seemed wrong, off. He tried to concentrate on breathing, and once the panic receded, he felt around the bed. Still, he didn't dare open his eyes.

He felt something tickle his face. It was soft and smelt like strawberries; hair? He cracked open his eyes. There was a body beside him. Warm, soft, and tucked under pink and white cotton sheets.

No, he thought. No. Not again. He hadn't. Not Beryl.

Beryl was cold, he reminded himself with a shudder, like a serpent. She smelt like death, like decay, not strawberry shampoo. Her sheets were black silk, and she, she ...

He slammed his eyes shut again, and pounded a fist into the bed.

The body mewled in its sleep, high and girlish, and he felt it roll over to face him. He flinched, but instead of reaching and grabbing him, he felt a gentle tug on his arm, and someone settle into the crook of it. He breathed out. It felt ... peaceful. He opened his eyes and looked down at the sleeping girl. Impossibly long blonde hair, aristocratic nose, pink little mouth. Mamoru rubbed his eyes and almost laughed aloud. Usagi, he realised, and relief flooded him. He smiled crookedly. Odango.

His Princess. His saviour. The one he had tried to protect. The one had tried to destroy.

He gasped, and almost wrenched himself from the bed. He forced himself to calm down instead, mindful of the sleeping girl cradled against him. He ran his shaking hand through his hair. How could she trust him after what he had done? How could he trust himself?

He gently pried Usagi from his arm and sat up. White hot pain surged through his chest at the sudden movement and it sent him doubling back onto the bed. He dimly recalled Usagi's two new senshi friends carrying him to bed, and how much moving had hurt the night before. Usually his Tuxedo Kamen powers would have healed any wounds by now; it made him wonder if he should be worried about broken ribs. Did breathing hurt? A little, but not too much. It was nothing he couldn't handle.

He frowned, dismissed the thought, and with a grunt tried to stand again. He ignored the violent protest of his chest, and walked carefully out of the bedroom. Broken rib or not, he did not have two months to wait while it healed. He would simply make due, and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it.

"Well, well. Sleeping Beauty's up already," a cold, hard voice said suddenly.

Mamoru started, and looked around wide-eyed. In his musings, he hadn't even noticed the other two women in the apartment. He recognised the voice of one of the senshi from last night. She'd obviously de-transformed at some point and was wearing a rumpled black ... tuxedo? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Haru-something, wasn't?

"Haruka," she said by introduction, and stuck out her hand in a Western style greeting.

He took it, and despite the pain didn't allow himself to flinch. "Chiba ..." he gasped for breath. When had talking become this hard? "Chiba Mamoru," he said again, more forcefully.

"Oh we've heard all about you," Haruka grinned eerily and Mamoru found himself taking a few steps back. "Haven't we, Michiru?"

Michiru raised her eyebrow, but Mamoru had the distinct impression she was trying not to smirk. "Indeed we have," she said evenly.

A knock at the door saved him from an answer. Haruka went to open it, and Motoki stepped inside carrying a familiar duffel bag, just as he promised. Mamoru didn't think he'd ever been so grateful for his friend.

"Yo, Mamoru," Motoki called with a wave.

Mamoru nodded to him and took the bag out of his hand. "Thanks," he said. "I'm going to grab a shower."

Motoki eyed him critically. "Anything to get you out of those leather pants," he said dryly.

Mamoru blushed. At least his armour had disappeared sometime in the night. That would have been harder to explain.

Motoki chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask."

Mamoru could feel the steely gaze of four eyes and the worried pair that followed him to the bathroom. He wondered if he would ever stop feeling eyes on him again. He shuddered at the thought, but did his best to ignore it as he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

The hot shower was refreshing, it soothed Mamoru's aching muscles somewhat, and he fancied that even his chest didn't hurt half as much. It was a lie, of course, and as soon as he bent down to wash himself, the pain was back with a vengeance. He quickly rinsed himself off and threw on some clothes. He brushed his teeth, but didn't dare look into the mirror. A closer look at the pallor of his skin confirmed what months in the Dark Kingdom could do to a man – at least physically – his normally tanned skin looked bleached and pale, almost sickly. He was unnaturally white.

"So, what's up with Usagi?" Mamoru heard Motoki ask as he came out of the bathroom.

"Oh, they just tried to kill each other, that's all," Haruka said.

Motoki snorted. "That's nothing new."

"She calls him 'Mamo-chan'," Haruka offered.

Motoki choked back a laugh, and Mamoru silently cursed Haruka. He wasn't ready to talk to Motoki about anything, and judging by the smirk she threw his way, she knew that.

"Ready to go?" Mamoru asked, desperate to get away from the conversation.

Motoki didn't look surprised. "Sure," he said.

"Chiba-san?" Michiru asked.

"Yes?"

"Usagi may trust you, but we still do not."

"Good." He didn't know if he could trust himself.

Motoki frowned at them, but chose to say silent. With once last glance at Usagi's bedroom, Mamoru led Motoki out the apartment door. He was glad she was still sleeping.

"So," Motoki said when they had left the apartment and made it back onto the streets, "want to tell me what that was about?"

Mamoru shrugged, and his ribs flared in pain. It wasn't as bad as it had been when he had first woken up, so perhaps his abilities were healing them. He vaguely wondered exactly how much damage Haruka and Michiru would have been able to do had he not restrained them. That he had to be carried to bed was unsettling, that he had woken up in such bad shape was even worse.

"Mamoru?" asked Motoki again.

His friend actually looked anxious. Mamoru sighed and raked his hand through his hair. What could he possibly tell Motoki? Was there any way to explain? "Haruka and Michiru," he hadn't caught their last names, "are protective of Usagi." He smiled thinly. That was certainly one way to explain it.

Motoki frowned, but did not say anything, and for that, Mamoru was extremely grateful. As oblivious and blind as Motoki was when it came to his own pain, he was uncannily good at reading others. This also apparently extended to Mamoru as well. What was it that Usagi had said last night? Motoki had thought Mamoru was simply going through a ... difficult time? That he was so exposed, even to his best friend, disturbed Mamoru, but there was little to be done about that. It was claustrophobic and it chafed, but Mamoru had recognised vulnerability as the price of friendship long ago – even if he hadn't understood quite what it meant.

He vaguely wondered how Endymion – the first Endymion, and not, not Beryl's version of him – dealt with people and social occasions. Surely his former self had friends? He had wooed, Mamoru smirked, the Moon Princess after all. Of course, it didn't matter, and Mamoru pushed the errant thoughts away. He was firmly entrenched in the present, and had no desire to drudge up the past.

Mamoru didn't pay attention to where Motoki was leading him, which was dangerous, admittedly, but he was still in pain and couldn't come up with the effort to care. Still, he wasn't too surprised that after their mostly silent walk, Motoki lead him into a small, quiet coffee shop.

"The way I see it," Motoki said after they had sat down and gotten their drinks, "you owe me one hell of an explanation."

Motoki spoke calmly, but Mamoru was left reeling. He hid his reaction behind his coffee cup, carefully schooling his features while he took a sip. It was the first coffee he had had in months, and Mamoru savoured the bitter flavour and the way the hot drink warmed him from the inside out. So warm, so human. Still, he could not allow himself to be distracted. Mamoru narrowed his eyes, and sat his coffee back down on table. "I'm not quite certain I do."

"The hell you don't!" Motoki all but snarled.

Mamoru was surprised at the vehemence in his friend's voice, Motoki was never this confrontational. Thankfully, Motoki had kept his voice low; Mamoru did not enjoy making a spectacle of himself. "What do you want me to say?" Mamoru asked with feigned calmness.

"You could start with where you've been the past few months, that'd be a good start. Everyone was worried about you! I called Reika, you know? God, even Saori's been worried, and Kobayashi, too. You don't want to deal with your friends, that's fine." Motoki eyed him, and Mamoru looked away. "We're used to it by now, but you stopped going to class!"

Mamoru blanched. He had nothing to say. Nothing to that would explain away everything in a nice tidy package, and get Motoki to stop asking questions. He rubbed his temples. "I don't know where to start," he confessed.

Some of Motoki's anger melted away, and now he just looked tired. "The beginning would be novel."

Which beginning? The one where he was a reincarnated Earth Prince, or the infinitely longer one which started with the appearance of his dream Princess and the compulsion to help Sailor Moon? Either one could land him in the nearest mental institution if he wasn't careful.

"Mamoru," Motoki looked more serious than Mamoru had ever seen him before, "I can't be a very good friend if you can't tell me what's going on with you."

Mamoru sighed. "I'm sorry, Motoki." To his surprise, he actually was.

"Does his have anything to do with Usagi?" That he guessed so accurately startled Mamoru, but he hid it. If it was anyone but Motoki, they might not have seen the look of surprise. "Is that why you won't talk about it?"

"Usagi is..." Mamoru squeezed his eyes shut. "Usagi is part of it, yes." He could still feel her slim throat in his hand, could hear her pleas; oh god, what would he have done to her? Mamoru felt nauseous.

Motoki looked at him curiously. "What it is? What did you do?"

Mamoru felt himself snap. "You have no idea of the things I've done! No idea!"

"No I don't," Motoki said. "That's why you're going to tell me."

Mamoru ran a shaky hand through his hair and closed his eyes. "I didn't – I didn't love her; but I belonged to her. Everyone belonged to her."

"Who are you talking about?" Motoki asked softly.

"I couldn't help it," Mamoru confessed. "She tasted like power and she owned me." He laughed bitterly. "Even my soul. Especially my soul. I thought she was beautiful, the incarnation of everything corrupted, everything impure. Everything I had been turned into. She called to me, and I didn't want to resist. Even her damn youma adore her, you know?"

"What exactly are you saying?" Motoki's voice was steady and calm.

The unintimidating countenance of his friend soothed Mamoru's frayed nerves, but he ignored the question. He sat numbly, but opened his dark blue eyes. "And then Kunzite, Kunzite found out about Usagi." He smiled crookedly. "Found out that I had been watching her. What he threatened to do to her..." Mamoru's fist slammed down on the table, and a few of the other patrons looked their way. Mamoru noticed them, and waited for the curious stares to look away before continuing. "He offered me a trade: Sailor Moon for Usagi's continued health. Except –"

"Except Usagi is Sailor Moon," Motoki gasped.

Mamoru wasn't surprised Motoki caught on. There were countless parallels between Usagi and her alter ego, and while Motoki was somewhat naive and trusting at times, he was neither blind nor stupid. "Yes. I tracked Sailor Moon down and saw Usagi."

There was no need to continue, not really. Motoki was smart enough to put the rest of the puzzle together, and for that Mamoru was grateful. It wasn't something he wished to discuss. Ever.

Motoki scratched the back of his head absent-mindedly. "So, you've had an eventful last few months."

Amazingly, Mamoru wanted to laugh. Motoki always had a gift for the understatement. "Not one I wish to repeat," he said darkly.

Motoki patted his shoulder awkwardly, and Mamoru froze. He didn't like to be touched, especially in public. "Always knew you had a thing for Usagi," Motoki said with forced cheerfulness. "What happened? You're daily mantra of 'She's only fourteen, she's only fourteen' didn't work?"

Mamoru glared at him.

"She loves you doesn't she?"

"Yes," Mamoru said neutrally.

Motoki grinned, obviously realising that his line of questioning wasn't going to get him anywhere. "You know," he said conversationally, "reading poetry and flinging flowers. It suits you, but no wonder everyone at school thinks you're gay."

"They do not!"

"Right, man. Sure they don't." So, how do we break the news to Saori?

"What news?" Mamoru frowned, genuinely confused. "What about her?"

"Uh, never mind."

"Motoki."

"Maybe when you're older." Motoki grinned. "Mamo-chan."

Mamoru glared.

xXx

Kunzite stormed through the chambers of the former Generals. He needed to come up with a plan not only to find the Princess and the ginzuishou, but the errant Endymion as well. The man that Endymion had been, Mamoru, wouldn't be so stupid as to go back to his apartment. That would be entirely too easy. Kunzite clenched his fists. He should have found the little rabbit first, and then offered her up as bait.

He could track her down of course, no doubt Endymion would come to her rescue – and his death – but time was of the essence. He had already been through Jadeite and Nephrite's old notes, and found nothing but their respective obsessions with human girls. Naru and Rei. Kunzite sneered. How could he not have noticed the weaknesses in his men sooner? At least Zoicite had been free of that taint.

The youma army was growing restless, and even with the Queen's power to control and subdue them, it would still be difficult to maintain order among the thousands of creatures. They were stupid, animalistic, and more often than not, did not respond well to military discipline. Pain would only go so far: a dog did not understand being whipped, did it?

No, not a dog ... but perhaps a cat. Kunzite smiled. Queen Beryl would not like this plan, but it would work. He was certain of it.