Shibuya, Kanto region, southeastern Japan, thirteen-hundred hours, modern era. Great throngs of people cross these world-famous streets every day. Towering over the teeming amalgam is the famous "109" building; further down, amidst the confusion of daily life, is a single person, lost in the thickness of humanity. She observes the people carrying on with their lives, crossing streets, patrolling the sidewalks, mindlessly caught in years-old ruts of comfort and complacency, leaving her to stand, isolated and forgotten. She takes a deep breath, waiting for the light to change, just like any good ordinary citizen ought to. Gradually they shift yellow, then red. The cars squeal to a gentle halt. Signs flash in white and green, resuming the flow of human traffic. She becomes one of them, crossing over.

Once upon a time, long ago, she was somebody else. But the world has forgotten about her, moved on, appreciative of the peace she helped bring about, no longer in need of champions or heroes. They are now masters of their own affairs, so without her purpose, she must find other meaning in the ashes of her former life. She grew up, gradated, matured— somewhat— keeping the memories alive, because that was all she had left. Ten years passed since the world last cried out for her, and in that time, she became obscured, lost in the global mishmash, and all of the bonds that had once been wrought out of unbreakable cords were now severed. Everything that had once defined her as a person had left her, and all because the world no longer needed her. It was a very heartbreaking change for her, but an inevitable one, and though she would procrastinate, fight to keep the bonds close, yearn to remain locked in the past, the world and its trappings were leaving her behind, so she had to adapt. She had to put aside the crown of the hero and don the humble sackcloth of an ordinary woman, struggling just to get by.

It's a story told in a hundred tales— of goddesses and champions descending from the heavens in times of crisis. Now the time has come when the evils are destroyed, the world is safe, and normal life can begin again. It is no longer her time; it's theirs. So she became one of them; they all did, one after another. Their invincible organization, their tight-knit family, their loving sisterhood, all lost, all broken, all— seemingly— reduced to this. One woman, alone, lost in a crowd, shuffling amidst thousands to her destination, routine and predictable and safe. She walked out of the line briefly, stepping into a crowded café, and noticed one of the last links of her old life waiting for her, just as she promised, at a table in the corner all five of them once claimed as their own. She sat down next to her friend, smiling, more out of nostalgia than happiness. This was their life now— a nothingness, an ease, a retirement. This was their reward.

"Are you off today?"

"No, just taking a lunch break. It's been an easy day, though, so I don't think they'll need me much longer."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that's good news. Are you still making ends meet?"

"Mm-hmm," she smiled. "I actually have a surplus now. I've been thinking about buying a little motor-scooter. They're much cheaper than cars, and they hardly take any gas, and some of them don't even need insurance."

"That sounds nice. I hear they're real handy in cities."

"And you're still taking the subway?"

"Mm-hmm. Kanto's too crowded for cars. I'm just glad it's so close to the grocery store. It is a little stressful, though, especially since I have to revolve my life around their schedule. But when it comes to price versus convenience…" Her friend gestured, remarking on something they could both understand.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Does a first year's salary pay a lot?"

"No, but that's okay. I still have some money saved up from when we were roommates." The woman laughed, leaning forward, dreams swimming in her sea-blue eyes.

"Do you remember those days? How we'd stay up and watch movies, or talk, or play games…? Sometimes we'd take a walk, too, just wandering around wherever we pleased… And we'd always find something that reminded us of the old days."

"We," she stressed, "or you?"

"Both of us," she winked. "As I recall, you spotted that building where you and that stone creature squared off. Remember? That one time we couldn't get to you, because of the structural damage, so you had to tough it out for a few minutes while we cleared the debris... We all thought you were a goner, but I kept on saying, 'she'll be fine, guys, don't worry! She's a lot stronger than that monster! She'll have his clock cleaned before we even know it, you'll see! She'll be fine, she'll be fine…'"

They laughed, even though at the time, one of them had been shaking with fear and adrenaline, and the other had been bawling incessantly.

"And you were," she pointed. "You showed everyone how tough you are— and that I was right. Boy, we sure had some fun times, eh?"

"Ah yes, fun. Like the time you were trapped by those slug beasts."

"Hey…"

"Or that time a stink-bomber laid waste to you, and nobody could get near you for a week."

"Come on, now…"

"Or when you had your pride handed to you on a silver platter by that…by that, uh…well, actually, it happened so many times that I've lost count."

"Now just one minute!" She stood up, slamming her hands on the counter, drawing lots of attention. The woman turned red, sat down again, told everyone it was nothing, and glared at her friend. "Okay, so I had my bad days. But you gotta admit, we were smoking hot, too!"

"Do you mean our virtues in the face of evil, or our appearance?" Her friend smiled, which caused a laughter, which caused a fond sigh. They smiled at each other warmly, but then the real world interrupted, and her pager went off. "Whoops, sorry, that's the hospital. Looks like I've got more work to do. Sorry I have to cut it so short— "

"Hey, that's no problem at all! I'm just glad we were able to see each other like this! You go do your thing, and I'll check back at HQ to see if they need me."

"Sounds like a plan. Email me sometime, and let's get together again. I had fun."

"Me too!" A few years ago, parting with her friend would've included hugs, maybe even chaste kisses— but now? A wave and a smile sufficed. The distance between them became manifest as they each resumed their normal lives, and once again, the woman was left by herself, a great gaping hole throbbing in her heart. She was powerless against it, though, so she grudgingly picked herself up, cast one last longing look at her friend as she lost herself in the masses, and finally submitted herself to the general public, feet marching back in place, a hero camouflaged perfectly.

Usagi Tsukino, average citizen.

Al Kristopher presents

A hero story for the modern age

SAFIOLROERVMEORON

1: "Contingency"

"You're late from your lunch. You need to keep your eye on the clock."

"Sorry." Usagi punched back in, glancing around to see if her coworkers had any sympathy for her plight. Nobody made a sound, though— not a whispered voice of support, a raised declaration of defense, nor a voucher nor assurance, not even a gaze of interest from anybody. Shibuya Police Headquarters was dead silent, save for the mechanical ticking of keyboards and clocks and muffled coughs. Television and anime always advertised local law enforcement to be drenched in action, adventure, drama, even the occasional romance, but in reality, it boiled down to another daily task, little more than an eight-hour chore one suffered through in silence, in exchange for a paycheck, experience, and (if one was very lucky) a good story to tell to one's peers. Usagi quietly shuffled to her desk, noticed the stack of papers that had piled up in her absence, groaned— wasn't this sight just a little too familiar?— and pressed her head to her desk in abject weariness.

But time had been merciful to her sense of duty, so after a few seconds, she plucked herself up and set to her task.

The next several hours were dull, punctuated only by a brief journey to the bathroom, or the water cooler, or the reference room, or the trash bin. Usagi would likely stay there unless given an assignment by her gracious superior, which wasn't often, and it normally involved something almost as dull as sitting there scribbling through papers. Honestly, when she had signed on as a law enforcement officer, she hadn't expected this. Fighting evil, saving the day, being a beacon of virtue in a bleak world, inspiring others…that had been her entire life for years; it was all she ever knew. Her other friends all drifted into various high-level positions of prestige, each according to her own natural talents, but what good was Usagi for, aside from occasional bouts of leadership, sporadic athletic ability, unnatural knowledge of "paranormal and unexplainable activity", and an overactive digestive system? Becoming a police officer seemed a logical step for the full-grown woman once known as Sailor Moon.

But really, now. All this paperwork…

Ten years and more had passed since the interplanetary fighting force called the Sailor Senshi, defenders of love, truth, justice, and honor, had fought their last battle. The Senshi had since retired, putting away their past— perhaps even forgetting it— grown out of adolescence, and into adulthood. They had put aside the hero's life and turned to one of normalcy. They entered into relationships— some entered into far more than others— one devoted herself to a lifelong commitment, and had even become a mother. A mother! Children! A real family! It still floored Usagi whenever she dwelt on the thought. A member of her own close-knit circle, one of the Senshi, the four guardians of the Princess of the Moon, a mother! Usagi had met the children and loved them; she even took care of them sometimes (as "Aunt Bunny"), but she still had a hard time wrapping her mind around it.

Somehow Makoto managed to be top chef of a nationally-renowned restaurant, bucking for her own TV show and a guest-spot on the famous Iron Chef competition. How she juggled fame, duty, husband, and children was beyond Usagi's comprehension; it was little wonder she had so little time left for her friends. When was the last time Usagi even spoke to her, let alone saw her? Well, they chatted electronically over the internet, and sometimes used the phone— heck, they even mailed each other the old-fashioned way— but it had been a long time since she had graced Makoto's presence. But that was okay, she was busy and important, and soon to be quite famous. Usagi missed her terribly but couldn't be more proud.

With half her stack done, she stretched out, staring at the ceiling, idly debating whether to "reward" herself with a quick game. The chief would be monitoring her computer use, and strongly prohibited any distractions outside of the occasional Solitaire or Minesweeper (which she bombed at). Something slightly more primitive, perhaps? A crossword puzzle, the jumble, sudoku maybe? But those were more Ami's style; Usagi could barely comprehend anything outside of the funny pages. Maybe that was why she was stuck at a dead-end job while someone else had just started her practice. Doctor Ami Mizuno (the title certainly had a nice ring to it) wasn't as famous as Makoto yet, but she had only just started her tenure; she'd have that hospital in the palm of her hand in another year or two.

It had been gracious of Ami to meet Usagi for lunch that afternoon. Ever since they stopped living together, Usagi had felt emptier and more alone than ever. She understood that Ami had her own place now, and couldn't maintain her occupancy and her career at the same time. The transition had been painless for both of them, outside of Usagi's normal emotional outbursts (she had cried herself to sleep the first night of their separation). But until then, Ami had been the only member of her circle that she interacted with on a daily basis. It was like extending the Sailor relationships for a few more years, after the others had went their separate ways. They moved in together because it was convenient, because they knew each other, because there was love involved, because Ami had needed a place to stay, and Minako, unfortunately, had not been able to give that to her.

Minako— now there was a real blow to Usagi's senses! Becoming a model for a top talent agency in Tokyo came as no shock; Minako was tailor-made for the camera and the adulation of millions. But then Usagi and the rest of the Senshi were thrown for the loop of their lives when their Minako, the avatar of the goddess of love, formed an intimate relationship with Ami, of all people. Mianko and Ami, lovers! Of all people! Oh, sure, everyone had suspected their Venusian vixen to be at least a little bisexual. What was the arbiter of adoration if not indiscriminate? And yes, Usagi forcefully admitted (to herself, mind) to harboring the most miniscule and harmless of girl-crushes on her fellow flaxen-haired wonder— but who hadn't? If Minako were to lean towards any woman, she had hedged all her bets on Rei, or perhaps Setsuna. But Ami? Well, they had been together for a time, and now they had broken up, and there was no further "official" word on Miss Aino's relationship status.

The tabloids declared her "open", "single", "looking", "available", et al. During her interviews, Minako openly declared herself willing to love just about anybody, if they were good and honest and beautiful— if they "had true soul", in her own words, "a true human who understands joy and suffering, and is stronger for it" (but mostly "not a creepy stalker", she'd glare). And then she'd emphasize that men and women could apply, and she'd take each one into consideration. Just like that. For anyone else, such a declaration would be whorish, but Minako's love was pure, courtly, pristine, and poetic. It had no place in a world sustained by divorces, one-night stands, abortions, broken hearts, dead-end marriages, complacency, tepid proposals, loneliness…

Almost finished now. The last few sheets smiled up at Usago with promise. She decided to go for a walk around the room, see what everyone was up to, ask the chief if maybe she had neglected something, or if there was anything else she could do (aside from paperwork, of course). After making an unsuccessful round, she returned to her work, and felt her frustration flare as she noticed about a centimeter's worth of fresh papers on the pile.

"Darn it," she hissed, pulling out the first one. Most were from the chief, requiring her signature. A few had her filling out citation information from various other officers. One needed basic information concerning a minor theft; another, traffic violations; another, domestic disturbance. Shibuya was peaceful these days, and that was great, but…Usagi wished she could be doing more with her badge. She didn't join the "elite" order of police just to sign her life away on seventeen separate documents. One caught her eye, though, signed with the unusual but refreshing moniker of "Hino, R." Rei!

Usagi couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. She read the document more closely.

As usual, there was a lot of political jargon to plow through. Were it not for the sticky notes hastily added to the paper, she'd never understand any of it. The gist of it was that the city council was hot in debate over tearing down an old sewage treatment plant in favor of adding a public park, and the Shibuya police department had to add their say regarding security. Usagi knew she had virtually no power as far as this was concerned— the chief herself might not be able to do anything— but there was a signature list, at least, and Rei apparently trusted her with getting it around. There was nothing else from her favorite senatorial intern— no words of encouragement, pleas to get this moving, private greetings or messages— Rei was succinct and clear. But Usagi didn't need to see anything else: she did everything she could to help pass the information along and did it happily. Rei was working hard in the city hall, and Usagi would do anything to ease her burden.

A famous chef, wife, and mother. A doctor recovering from an unusual same-sex relationship. An open-minded model. An intern for the senate. And one of Shibuya's finest. Nobody would ever believe these women had once been the famous Sailor Senshi. And in this modern era, nobody would probably remember, either— or even care, for that matter.

"Aah!" she squealed, throwing her arms up happily. "I am finished! Done! Yes, another stack of malicious paper has been conquered! And now, for my next miracle: a break! Yes, I am going to the snack room, and getting some…hmm, what should I have?"

"Hey, Tsukino." That was Sgt. Asagiri calling her; Usagi stood to attention with a bright smile.

"Yes!"

"Not so loud. The chief wants to see you. She's got an assignment."

"All right! Now it's time to show her what I'm made of! Clear the room, everyone!"

"Did you hear what I just said, Tsukino? Stop being crazy and get a move on." Usagi grimaced and grumbled her way down the hall to the chief's office. Having a female in charge of the division was an unusual step, especially considering she wasn't even Japanese. Harisvatta Utnapishtim (Hari, for short) had no trouble speaking Usagi's native language; getting her to stop was the issue.

"Tsukino, there's been reports of a small earthquake around Yokohama, and the call's going out for volunteers. Care to trade your desk job for something a little less menial?"

"Oh, yes ma'am, right away! You know you can count on me!"

"All right. Wrap up whatever you have left and head on home. I want you well-rested and prepared for tomorrow."

"Of course! What time should I be here?"

"Early. Preferably before 0500 hours." Usagi flinched. She hadn't woken up that early since her days at the police academy. It would be a difficult stretch, and it would require more discipline than she usually had, but it was all for a good cause, and she always threw herself into these noble tasks with greater enthusiasm. The chief dismissed her, and after checking her desk for any more stacks of paper, she clocked out, put her uniform away, and walked home, admiring the low setting sun. It had been awhile since she was greeted by those familiar reddish-gold rays; normally her shifts ended at night, when her namesake was just beginning its nocturnal ascent. She walked just a little slower so as to enjoy it more.

Author's notes:

First of all, although I made a personal vow to never write another Sailor Moon story, times and talents have changed so much that I would like to attempt one last return to this strange, bizarre, beautiful world we all grew up with in the nineties. It has also come to my attention that an entirely new generation has not shared this same advantage; that some do not even know who and what Sailor Moon is, or do not understand the appeal, or believe it's "old stuff". But that is where our duties as writers come in: to reinvent these pivotal standards for a newer audience to appreciate. Because Sailor Moon's popularity has virtually disappeared in the past ten or fifteen years since it first aired in the states, the setting behind this story, particularly the first chapter, is all the more potent. The worlds of fact and fiction have both forgotten about the Senshi and have moved on, so perhaps it is time for them to come back and remind us all why they were so great.

Secondly, I realize the manga and animated continuities had an entirely different future for the Senshi, but I wanted to pose a third alternative: that, after having vanquished every evil the universe could conceivably throw at them, there was no further need for them, and so the Senshi were free to assume normal lives. I am also aware that this exact same plot has probably been done to death, but the difference between a cliché and conventionalism are the little nuances that give stories a fresh, if not original, spin. Therefore I entreat everyone who may be interested in this premise to keep reading, as I assure you it will go in some rather novel directions.

Finally, because this is Sailor Moon, there's going to be same-sex relationships, and not just centered around Haruka and Michiru. It's just one of those things that are so blatant that you might as well accept it. However, as you've already seen, I've taken a somewhat less conventional route in pairing (and subsequently separating) Ami and Minako. I will go into this strange territory later, so if you're still one of the few people with homosexual sensitivities, then kindly board a time machine back to the seventies.