Episode V

/ The Hot Springs and What Happened There /

Zakuro sat on a tall stool behind a jewelry case, painfully erasing, sketching, erasing, and sketching again, trying to get her picture just right.

It was Golden Week, so all the schools excused the children from attending. It wasn’t necessary for a private school like Zakuro’s, but the Sisters’ Academy let them go on national holidays as a point of honor.

The jeweler’s itself was technically closed, but Calaveras was behind the back desk, doing the remainder of the computations. She had an amiable smile. Zakuro did not marvel that she had the best record for sales among her sisters.

The damages from the attack some weeks before were all but fixed – except for the door’s bell, which was why no one heard when Rei entered, her dark hair hanging, a jagged wing at her back.

“Hi, Zakuro-chan.”

The shadow fell over her drawing surface, but Zakuro wasn’t startled. The priestess’s smooth voice eliminated any anxiousness that accompanied her sudden appearance.

“Hello, Rei-chan.” Zakuro nodded.

“Drawing something nice?”

“No, it’s not coming out how I want.”

Rei leaned over and glimpsed at the sheet of paper. She viewed the image upside down, but she could clearly discern it as a sailor-suited senshi.

“What do you mean? It looks fine.”

Zakuro crumpled the piece of paper and held it balled in her hand. “Well, I don’t like it anyway.”

Rei pursed her lips a little, and then put her hand out to pat the adolescent on the head. “As long as you don’t give up – then you’re always successful.”

“You sound like Minako-chan.”

Rei’s eyes rolled up, and her tongue stuck out a little in mock complaint.

The joke was successful. Zakuro laughed.

“Hey, Calaveras,” Rei said, refocusing her attention on the brunette in the back.

“Wha? Oh, hi Rei-chan. Can you believe the weather? It’s been so sketchy lately, like it can’t make up its mine. We were planning on going to the beach this week. Now I’m wondering if it’s going to be too cold.” Calaveras punctuated her complaint with a tap of her pencil.

“That’s kind of what I’m here to talk to you about,” Rei said, walking toward Calaveras and shifting her bag to reach into it. “See, I won these tickets from a charity raffle at my old girls’ academy – I didn’t think I’d win.” She produced a white envelope and displayed this for Calaveras’s viewing.

“Oh, yeah? Tickets for what?”

“For a family trip to the hot springs, Rengen Onsen.”

Calaveras lifted her hands to her face dreamily. “Sounds wonderful. You’re so lucky!”

Rei shook out her black mane. “I can’t go. I have to help my grandfather at the shrine for all the Golden Week pilgrimages.”

Calaveras dropped her hands and looked somber. “What are you going to do?”

“I thought maybe you and your sisters could use them.”

Calaveras smiled at the irony. “Rei-chan, you know I’d jump on the opportunity to visit some hot springs, but Beruche already reserved a little place at the beach.”

Rei looked thoughtful. “All of you are going?”

“Well – yes.”

Rei sighed.

“Did you try asking Usagi or the others?”

“Not Usagi,” Rei said, mouth settling distastefully. “I haven’t seen her in a while. Besides, who would go with her? I know Makoto and Ami already have plans, and I’ll bet Minako wouldn’t miss out on all the celebrations for the world – concerts, parades – you know Minako-chan.”

Calaveras leaned into her hand, elbow poised on the desk. She thought for a moment. “I don’t think Saffir and Demando made any arrangements for the holiday. We were going to have Zakuro stay here with them because she didn’t seem eager about leaving without Demando.”

“That’s perfect!” Rei shot up. “Because I have three tickets here.” She waved the envelope.

Calaveras mirrored her posture. “Hey, what do you think about that, Zakuro-chan? If Saffir and Demando-sama went with you?”

The little girl, who had been listening casually as she worked on a second drawing, lifted wide eyes to the woman and nodded solemnly.

“Great!” Rei said, handing Calaveras the prize envelope. “And if they decide they don’t want to use them after all, feel free to pass them on to someone who can.”

“Will do,” said Calaveras. She flicked her wrist to glance at her watch. “Say, what are you doing right now? Want to go out to lunch?”

Dear Usako,

Studying for midterms seems to take all my time lately. So much so that I’ve barely noticed the cherry trees blossoming everywhere. They remind me of you – sitting on the park bench in your mother’s kimono, blushing petals caught in your bangs.

I miss you. Until next time.

Yours,

Mamo-chan

Usagi folded the letter delicately and held the paper against her chest. She closed her eyes, and imagined she could smell his presence in the room with her. She sent all her good thoughts speeding across the water toward him.

Minako broke her roommate’s quiet reverie by crashing in through the front door, all flushed cheeks and wind-blown golden strands.

“Wah! Usagi-chan! Cherry Studios is having a publicity panel this week! I’m going to be introduced to the fans and interviewed by the top shojo magazines at a live panel!” She balled her fists to her mouth and shook them a little in excitement.

Usagi placed her paper back in its envelope; turned her attention to Minako. “No way! Do you think that you could get me some autographs?”

“Usagi-baka!” Minako bounded forward and knocked her fist none-too-softly on the top of Usagi’s skull.

“Ow!”

“Do you only ever think about yourself?”

“No,” Usagi pouted, “I was specifically thinking about you. Getting me autographs.”

But Minako clapped her hands together and bounced around the room. “I can’t wait to tell Artemis!”

“Tell me what?”

A muffled voice drifted out from somewhere deep in the armchair. It immediately preceded a white mass that drifted up, like rising bread dough, which ensued to wash its face and whiskers as Minako filled in all the details.

Petz’s efforts deserved a gold star in the very least. She had successfully located, pinned down, and retrieved all of the members of the household to the unaccommodating, awkward dinner, where Beruche was even now spooning out large servings of Chinese take-out onto ceramic plates and passing them ‘round.

“I bought a new bikini today. It was on sale at Lola’s,” Cooan said to Calaveras. “It’s a teal blue with little rhinestones along the straps!”

“I need a tan,” Calaveras sympathized. “I hope that the ocean-side is gorgeous this week!”

“And if we like it,” Beruche said, having finished serving, sitting down to her meal, “we can reserve it again some time in the future. Might as well get a head start for the summer!”

Saffir studied an egg roll suspiciously. “What is this?”

“Just eat it,” Petz ordered.

“Zakuro-chan, did you want some lo mein?” Cooan nudged a cardboard box in the girl’s direction.

Zakuro nodded eagerly and reached for the box of noodles.

As Zakuro proceeded to scoop a mountain of slithering Chinese pasta onto her plate, Demando, who sat watching to her immediate right, decided to remove the cardboard container from her before the pile got dangerous and there was none left for the rest of the family.

Saffir chewed the tip of his chopsticks thoughtfully. “Now, what is an onsen again, and why are we going there?”

Beruche was first to oblige. “Hot springs, for the sake of vacation and relaxation. Calaveras got tickets from Hino Rei.”

Calaveras nodded enthusiastically. “They include transportation and everything!”

Saffir looked at his elder brother, but Demando sat eating quietly, eyes on plate.

“It’s free, Saffir; and it’s a great place for moping, so you should make yourself at home in no time,” Petz said darkly, in a voice that alerted the table that she’d settled the matter.

Zakuro plodded down the narrow stair case, bumping her suitcase one step at a time. She paused midway to adjust her grip on the handle and heave the thing down the remainder of the stairs.

“I swear, she’s happy I’m not going,” Saffir muttered aside, but Demando promptly ignored him and went to fix the little suitcase so that Zakuro could wheel it around by its extended handle.

“I’m not going to lie to Petz for you,” Demando stated pointedly.

Saffir’s nondescript gaze faltered slightly. “Fine. But you and I both know there’s more for me to do here. Besides, it’s a much better vacation to have the whole place to myself – I’d be crazy to miss this opportunity.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the master key ring; jangled it in his fingers as he strolled to the door and started to unlock it from the inside.

“Have a great trip,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. This elicited no less than a vague glare from the little girl.

Saffir suppressed the urge to shudder. Sometimes she could make him feel as small, insignificant, and translucent as Demando did.

No wonder she took to him.

Saffir suddenly made a sharp turn to disengage their interlocked stares. In the process, he narrowly avoided colliding into a swirling mass of hair and slender limbs.

“Wah! Saffir-sama!”

“What the hell – damn it – Tsukino-san – don’t do that!” He clutched his chest as if to steady his heart.

Her wide eyes flickered up and down, as if watching the curses fall from his mouth like stones. Then she caught sight of Zakuro in the inner store and maneuvered inside before Saffir had composed himself.

“Hi, Usagi-chan.” Zakuro said in her somber way. “Aren’t you going to the beach too?”

“No,” Usagi said blinkingly. “Who’s going to the beach?”

“The Ayakashi sisters rented a cottage for the holidays,” Demando answered. His voice drifting eerily from the back, like an autumn wind.

Upon realizing his presence, Usagi adjusted her posture.

She looked back down at Zakruo. “So you are meeting them there?”

Zakuro shook her head but offered no explanation.

“Zakuro and Demando-sama are spending a few days up at Rengen Onsen,” Saffir offered, a bit impatiently.

“What?” Usagi plummeted to the ground, pig tails flailing. She sat on her knees and pushed her lip out in a ridiculous gesture.

Zakuro was not quite sure whether what followed: whether Usagi addressed her or a general deity for whom she had lost all faith.

“Ohhh, Rei-chan gave you those tickets, didn’t she?” she cried, in characteristic melodrama. “She told me she gave them away after the fact, and I thought it was really mean of her! She could have at least asked me. This is so cruel! Everyone’s got something to do for Golden Week but me!”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then something in her sobered and straightened.

“It’s going to be lonely,” she murmured quietly.

In those five simple words, a bit of her bled out; and her audience could gather she was no longer talking about the holidays.

Zakuro was a deal above her eye level now that Usa knelt on the ground. She reached out and placed a finger to Usagi’s forehead, right between and slightly above the young woman’s eyebrows. Zakur frowned.

Usagi could feel Zakuro, vaguely willing her to stop. She watched the girl, completely distracted by the lightest of touches.

Then the child refocused. She lowered her finger.

“Come with us.”

“What?” she spoke softly.

“Come with me and Demando.”

The landscape was like a solid river ebbing by, and Usagi felt the train wasn’t moving at all. She leaned closer to the window glass and watched as the cement buildings gave way to green hills and country roads.

They were an hour or so outside of Tokyo, and she still wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up on a train speeding into the countryside.

No, that was not true. She remembered the events that led up to the present, but it was as though she moved instinctively; had fallen asleep as autopilot took the wheel.

In the store – it seemed only moments ago - Zakuro looked at her soulfully and asked her to come.

Usagi agreed.

There was some other sort of exchange, which was unimportant. Presently Saffir had returned with a duffel bag filled with some of Petz’s clothing and ushered them out the door.

Usagi woke up a bit as their taxi pulled up to the train station. Her knees locked and refusing to unbend.

Then Zakuro had reached her open palm into the car, and Usagi took it.

They walked into the train station hand in hand.

Demando had been fairly quiet, for his part, but not cold. He’d maintained a balanced attitude of warmth and nonchalance for which Usagi couldn’t help but be grateful. The way he acted made it clear that she was Zakuro’s guest and that he respected that.

Now Zakuro was dozing in the seat next to her as Usagi watched the countryside grow and rise gradually, like the dawn.

Demando sat across the aisle, silently reading a newspaper.

A stirring in the seat next to her drew her eyes downward, just in time to see the eleven-year-old lean her head onto Usagi’s shoulder.

Usagi smiled vaguely, remembering snatched moments of peace with another, far naughtier child.

The hostess dressed in traditional garb for a bath house. It was a small country inn, but full for the holiday, and as the hostess ushered them through the hallways, they had to maneuver around many other guests.

Usagi was uncharacteristically quiet: together the three of them made a muted group.

The hostess paid no mind to their silence, however, and went on talking in a self-important manner. She instructed them on how to use the onsen, where they could find food and beverage, what was unacceptable, what was expected, and so on.

She paused outside a traditional paper door and turned to them. “This will be your room. I’ll bring a second mattress out for your daughter,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the little girl hovering broodingly in the shadows.

Usagi felt suddenly dizzy, though she couldn’t quite grasp why.

Fortunately, before she could either decipher her source of discomfort or succumb completely to the nausea, Demando put a gentle hand on Zakuro’s shoulder and said:

“Actually, I’d like to purchase a second room if that’s all right.”

The woman – dark, silver-streaked hair pulled back tightly in a formal and unmerciful bun – lifted her eyebrows slightly. Perhaps she wondered if they wished to room the child separately; or maybe she guessed, rightly, that Demando intended to give the women their privacy. But the hostess retained her strained decorum, only replying, “Yes, of course,” before sliding the door open and holding out her hand for them to enter.

Evening fell timidly in the mountains: first in the crevices, then lightly underneath the trees, finally rising into the atmosphere.

It was not until the sky was a navy sapphire that Usagi and Zakuro padded in their house shoes and robes down the old hallway and out into the crisp spring air around the hot springs.

There were groups of people moving about the open area wrapped in towels, yet it was surprisingly spacious.

Zakuro stood and looked around her in suspicion. But Usagi didn’t hesitate to slip into the water at the edge of the spring and begin to wade, so that her white towel turned dark with dampness.

She paused to turn around to the child. “Zakuro-chan, come in.”

This seemed to assure her. At Usagi’s words, she dashed forward and all but jumped into the spring. The water churned where her body broke the water.

“It’s hot!” she squeeled. But she was smiling.

Usagi giggled. “What did you expect, frigid glacier water?”

Zakuro circled her arms about her on the surface of the water, jumping a little in response to the heat.

Usagi put her tongue out and scrunched up her nose. “You really aren’t from around here are you?” And she tugged playfully on one of Zakuro’s pig tails.

Zakuro squirmed away and proceeded to bounce around in circles, splashing.

“I feel like a lobster being steamed for dinner,” she exclaimed.

Usagi sunk deeper into the warm wetness, letting the ends of her looped pigtails drape in the water. She felt peaceful.

“Hey, Zakuro,” she started.

The little girl looked wide-eyed at her.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Usagi said. And her smile created more warmth in Zakuro than the steaming bath.

Nami enjoyed the touch of the warm steam against her bare skin. The onsen was fairly old-fashioned – a bit country but comfortable. The baths were unisex, so most of the other guests kept their towels on to soak in the heated spring water. It was a family bath, and the ambiance was relaxed.

Nami soaked her feet and observed her enviornment. The coolness lingered in spring, creating a pleasant circulation of air and swirling mists. The adults bent their heads together in genial conversation. Every now and again one or two broke out into hearty laughter. The children splashed and paddled, chasing bubbles and playmates.

The braid of Nami’s hair was undone, and the light blue wisps circled around her like a cloud in the water. She was grateful that Ai-chan forced her to take a vacation. If Nami was anything, she was an over-thinking, over-working over-achiever, and Ai knew this well enough, so sent her to clear her head.

“You’re no use to me mussed as you are,” Ai said cheerily.

Nami’s shoulders tensed and then relaxed as the hot water loosened her muscles.

She closed her eyes.

Demando walked slowly through the corridor, treading lightly his stature. He had left Usagi and Zakuro to prepare their room and gone to his own, but a light annoyance grew faintly in the back of his head. Like the sound of a radio left on, humming, in a distant room.

He was too cautious not to be uneasy. The events of the recent past gave him cause for suspicion, especially for Zakuro’s sake. She was a queer, elfish child, whose moods could change like puddle-colors reflecting after a rainstorm. But she had a quiet dignity about her that drew respect out of him. She was serious, and that made him smile a little because it reminded him of Saffir.

Awakening to the futility of lurking, he turned his steps back toward his private room. He thought to make use of the community bath, but first he wanted to give Zakuro and Usagi a little time alone.

The baths cleared as the night grew late. Usagi was lost with visions of western cities in the moonlight, apparitions in the steam. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

She must have drifted to sleep because a voice stirred the sudden blankness behind her lids. It was calm yet insistent..

“Hey, are you all right . . .?”

Usagi’s head snapped forward. “Oh yes. I’m fine, thanks.”

She focused on the face of a pretty woman, somewhat ethereal, emerging from the mist. Blue hair swirled around her, weaving patterns on the surface of the water. Eyes the color of ripe plums.

“It’s late, you know,” the woman said, unsmiling but not unkind.

“Oh – I must have fallen asleep,” Usagi said, scratching the tip of her nose where it tingled.

The stillness alerted her to Zakuro’s absence. She looked, but only a few adults remained in the bath. She must have wandered out to find a drink, or use the bathroom.

The blue-haired woman waved her arms around in the water in broad sweeps, looking for all the world like she belonged there. Usagi entertained the thought that she’d been born in water.

“My name’s Usagi,” she said.

“Ah. Mine’s Nami.”

“Are you on vacation with your family?” Usagi said pleasantly.

“Not really. And you?”

“Not really,” Usagi giggled a little.

“Ah well. It’s nice to get away from it all sometimes,” Nami said, swimming around to Usagi’s side so they could both look out toward the mountains.

“You know, I feel as though I’ve met you before,” Usagi said.

“Who me? No, you wouldn’t know me at all. I’m not really one to socialize.”

“You don’t seem shy!” Usagi said.

Nami smiled ironically. “It’s not that. Sometimes, my head gets the better of me, and I drive people away with my insistence and precision.”

Usagi raised her eyebrows. “Oh . . . sooooo . . . you’re here to relax and learn to re-focus on the important things. Hm?”

Nami’s head twitched a little toward her. “You’re pretty fast.”

The blond scratched her head and blinked blankly. “Um. No, I’m pretty sure I’m always the last one to figure things out. Rei-chan doesn’t let me forget that!”

Nami didn’t answer but looked thoughtful. The blonde had an innocent, almost startled look to her, as if she found the world around her utterly new and fascinating. It occurred to Nami that Usagi must stumble upon revelations – such as the most recent one about herself – like an idiot savant. Or someone too naturally intuitive to realize it.

“Aren’t the stars merry?”

Nami glanced at her. She was gazing into the cool night sky, face serene, as if she were greeting a familiar aquaintance.

She followed her gaze upward. “Merry?”

“Yes,” Usagi nodded, and she smiled so widely at Nami that her eyes squished closed in little crescents. “So full of laugher. I love the stars.”

She returned her gaze heaven-ward. “When I look at the stars, they calm me. They seem to ground me, to place me in the universe, and then I feel safe again.”

Nami opened her mouth to answer. But when her lips parted, they were empty.

She watched the fair girl, almost luminous in the soft light of evening, and something in the core of her quaked and shifted. She felt a pain high behind her throat, which made her very uncomfortable. She wanted to cry.

“I think I’ll be going.” She rose abruptly and reached for a nearby orphaned towel. “It’s getting late. It was nice talking to you.” She bowed then stepped swiftly away over the damp mountain stones.

Nami secured the belt of her bath robe around her waste as she walked into the cool, dry hallway. The observations of the pretty young woman in the bath alarmed her. Not that what she said was so outlandish. In itself, it was rather simple. Almost quaint. It was that she meant it. And that meaning pulsed like a ruby light upon the shadows of Nami’s center. It made her very aware of something – or the lack of it. She couldn’t say exactly. And she tried to remove herself from her troubled thoughts and hardened herself.

She swept like a shadow down the dimly lit corridor, brushing by a tall glowing figure. Their arms barely touched, but the man was distracted an continued onward. Nami, however, felt a slight tingle in her shoulder. She stopped stop suddenly to wonder at the sensation.

In a light-speed moment, she made the connection. She swerved around quickly, just in time to get a good look at the retreating figure as he disappeared out the door. It was a tall man, with hair whiter than moonlight. But the sensation in her arm seemed to crack and crystallize, sending a tingling carbonation throughout her body, like black licorice.

Her eyes narrowed.

She knew that power. She knew that man.

“Yes?” the hostess severely slid open the door to her private office. “Is there something I can do for you?” She asked in politest terms, though the pitch of her voice suggested otherwise.

“I believe that I’ve been locked out of my room,” Nami said, meeting the brutal business woman with equal sharpness.

“Your room number?”

“It’s 15.”

“Just let me get the key,” the woman muttered. She turned before she even completed her sentence.

But Nami reached out and grasped her arm tightly, above the elbow, preventing the woman’s movement.

For the first time, the hostess appeared diffident.

“Ex-excuse me?” she said, eyes wide, lips curled a little with disdain. She tried to wrench her arm violently (perhaps unnecessarily so) from Nami’s grasp.

Nami smiled. “You know what? Never mind. I just remembered I’ve something more important for you to do.” She smiled darkly.

The hostess’s eyebrows slashed downward in disapproval.

But Nami raised two fingers, curled gently before her, and gradually the hostess’s face began to change.

Demando stepped in the shallow steaming water and gradually immersed himself. He had never experienced natural springs before. Though the odor teased his nose rather unpleasantly, the deep healing sensation in his bones amended him.

His chest was bare but he wore a tower tightly about his waist, as did the other men.

There was the quite sound of gentle lapping, and he saw in the distance the fair head of a young woman, facing away from him.

“Demando-sama!”

Zakuro came splashing clumsily into the water and paddled up to him. “I was looking for you.” She stood and took his hand as somberly as an old woman.

Usagi, who had heard Zakuro cry out, now turned to greet them, and Zakuro swam forward to join her.

A sudden rise in heat caused Demando’s vision to fade then slowly focus. He thought he was looking at a hologram of a young, immortal queen. A very odd sensation of sudden, shuddering desire burst inside him. He felt a darkness burn behind his sockets as though unconsciousness tried to stifle him. He dropped his face into his hands and pressed deeply into his eyelids with his open palms.

The darkness cleared away. He opened his eyes to look up again, and there was only Usagi standing before him, watching curiously, with Zakuro at her elbow.

For a while, nothing happened. Usagi’s face was a blank canvas, her cheeks as pink blossoms opening before his eyes.

He watched entranced.

Suddenly, a dark curtain seemed to fall over her face.

Her eyebrows rose. Her mouth parted.

Demando’s brow furrowed worryingly. He started to swish forward in the water to come to her. Yet he had barely moved when a shrill screech pierced through his head, like a jolt of lightening. He instinctively swirled around to detect the source of the noise.

A tall, bony figure, jagged corners in place of joints, emerged out of the steam from behind and from the inn. The pull of hair about its face made Demando’s mind immediately recall the hostess – but this creature was far more fowl and mutilated, hardly a human being at all. Her skin was stretched as bark over a worn tree, and her fingers crinkled into sharp grasping claws. Her eyes were a dull, mucus-yellow, and the pupils dilated like black sores, rolling continually around in her head.

Then they settled on him.

The evil creature screeched her attack and sprang, an arrow to its mark. Demando barely caught her grasping claws in his wrists, and the creature hissed, fowl-breathed, inches away from his face. They grappled.

Demando felt his grip loosening. The monster procured unnatural strength and was leaning, leaning into him. Hot liquid sloshed into his face, and he coughed, trying to keep his breath. He felt his footing being to slip in the water.

In his panic, he retaliated.

A surge of eerie purple light hovered over his forehead. It spread throughout body and limbs. His hands became conduits to charge the raw power into the monster’s body. It flew back, howling in pain, as Demando slipped and fell stricken into the water.

He was disoriented. For some time he struggled, unsure of which direction lay air and safety.

Then he sputtered into the cool night air, slashing about him in confusion.

Through their stinging fogginess, his eyes caught Usagi.

She had come out of the water, a tower wrapped tightly around her, wet hair dangling in soggy loops.

He couldn’t for the life of him understand why she was going toward the danger, not away. Then the moment passed in a flash of dazzling light, swirling around her body like a dance of fireflies reflected upon a thousand mirrors.

And there, defiantly, stood Sailor Moon.

She had barely time to measure her surroundings before the monster charged her. Its claws sprung to tear her. But Sailor Moon procured a wand (that had not been there a moment ago), took the instrument in both hands, and swung it with a great might to the head of the on-coming creature.

Now assured of the young woman’s ability to defend herself, Demando’s thoughts turned. He looked about him ravenously. Zakuro was nowhere to be found.

Sailor Moon struggled again with the foul monster.

Demando hurriedly made his way out of the water, not even pausing to throw a robe over his wet skin, bare as he dashed into the inn.

The door slid closed behind. The hair on the back of his neck pricked. In the dim corridor there stood a figure of a tall woman.

His adjusted and focused. He recognized the woman then as the strange senshi in blue – the one who attacked his family and his jewelry store.

He straightened like an iron rod.

The two gazed at each other with glinting eyes.

Neither spoke.

The Nami moved. She lunged at him, palm outward, and came into contact with his chest.

Demando buckled slightly under the numbing pain, against his chest like a block of ice. He swallowed hard.

She charged again. This time he dodged her palm and used her momentum to throw her with all his strength toward the rice paper door. She flew straight through the thin material, landing awkwardly on her left hip and elbow. Her brows furrowed in pain. In a flash, she was up and facing him again. Nami glared defiantly.

Then a pitiful sound like a dying animal roused her. Her head turned sharply. She saw that Sailor Moon had already done with her host. The thing shrunk in size but fleshed out. The bark-tight hair loosened from its severe bun to fall in silver and gray streaks about narrow, proud shoulders. But the hostess sunk onto her knees. Fell forward slowly. On the back of her right arm, above the elbow, the insignia of Mercury flashed and faded.

Nami glanced sharply back at the white-haired man. Even now he glowed with an uncanny light. She bit her lip. Cradling her left elbow in her right hand, she jerked her chin upward, directing a slew of water that surrounded her and then showered, leaving only mist, and emptiness.

Their footsteps were heavy on the dark paneled floor, beating a comforting rhythm of alternating light, light, heavy, light, heavy, heavy.

They needn’t say a thing. They were looking for the little girl.

Demando stopped abruptly and muttered, “In here.”

They segued through the private offices and came out into their own wing. Usagi all but fell over her feet trying to get to her door. Swinging it open, she glanced about the room furtively – only everything remained clean, still, untouched.

Demando took all this in over her shoulder. He dashed down the hall to another door, pulled it open and clamorously entered.

There kneeled Zakuro, clammy and cold, nose ruddy, wrapped in the bedding of his futon in the corner of the room.

She flinched when the door opened. But when she saw, she stood immediately and ran toward him.

He caught her deftly in his arms, lifted her up.

“I’m sorry,” her voice trembled into his bare chest. “I didn’t mean to run away, I – I was afraid.”

He shushed her lowly, and held her for a long time.

The hostess, when she was found wandering about the gardens in mild confusion, was put right to bed and given strict orders to rest, as it was suspected she had suffered a stroke.

Zakuro was henceforth wary of the hot springs, and preferred to stay holed in her room, watching animated shows that aired on the humble-sized television.

Usagi sat on the bed with her school book open to study. Instead, she drew circles again and again in the margins. They drifted out and became stars, hearts, and moons of all sizes.

Demando knocked quietly before entering, bringing a brown paper bag full of something good-smelling and hot.

Usagi sat up and went to help him set up their small table for lunch.

Unspoken words troubled their movements, though Zakuro remained obliviously entertained by the flashing television screen.

Usagi spoke. “Mm – Demando-sama? About all this. I was thinking . . .”

He waited.

“Maybe next time we should just all go to the beach with the others.”

The pale man stared for two seconds.

Then his eyes crinkled, his mouth twitched, and he did something very strange.

He laughed.

It was short but authentic. Usagi couldn’t help but giggle a little in reciprocation.

Zakuro, who had started at the sound of Demando’s laughter, now rose and clambered toward the table. She grinned a silly grin as she reached for the tempura, though she hardly knew the joke.

“Once, when I was in the sixth grade,” Usagi said, “I got detention for a whole month!”

Zakuro’s eyes widened. “How did you manage that?”

They were un-boarding the train after what had been a pleasant, conversational journey. The three of them had spoken on many subjects, mainly sparking around the curiosities and eccentricities of the eleven-year-old. These, in turn, led to many revelations from the older blonde.

“It was when my best friend Naru and I decided that we were going to be pop idols,” Usagi continued, leaning forward and darting her eyes back and forth, divulging a great secret, “so we brought a video camera to school and to film ourselves doing our dance numbers and singing our top-chart hits in the hallways and girls’ bathrooms! We squeezed in some footage every time we had a chance.

“Well, it was all going well until Naru said that we needed a good view, so we had to go to the top of the roof to get the cityscape in the background for our music video. Our school kept pigeons up there, as class pets and sometimes for science classes. I had this brilliant idea to film from inside the cage – to give it a closed-in effect, you know. As I was opening the latch, I sort of tripped and tried to grab the cage door for balance, but it flew back and slammed open, startling all the birds! Needless to say, only three of them out of fifty ever came back . . .”

As if to imitate the prodigal birds, the three perched on the landing, hardly noticing the weight of their bags, they were so taken with their conversation.

“I thought pigeons were always good at finding their way home,” Demando mused.

Usagi twitched her mouth a little. “That’s what I said! But my teacher was livid and wouldn’t listen to reason! She made me come every day after school that month and stay late, reciting lines in English and doing,” here she made a vulgar face, “multiplication.”

Zakuro put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, “Maybe those pigeons are grateful to you, for setting them free.” She tilted her head and grinned, “And they come back every now and then to your windowsill in the moonlight, to kiss you while you sleep.”

Usagi met this sentiment seamlessly, and the two smiled at each other giddily, adding sweet anecdotes to the tale of the birds she valiantly rescued.

But Demando was quiet, looking thoughtfully back and forth, from the girl to the young woman.

“Usagi-chan!” a powerful cry rang out in the station, demanding their attention.

Immediately, Makoto emerged from the crowd. She tackled Usagi with her embrace. “What are you doing here? We’re just coming back from the beach! You won’t believe who we met there!”

She paused then, just noticing Usagi’s company, during which time the smaller Ami appeared, rather more gracefully, and greeted the others.

“Hello. Demando-sama. Zakuro-chan.” The petite woman nodded.

“Mizuno-san,” Demando bowed a little, hand to his breast regally. As the others watched on, Makoto noted a slight blush creep into Usagi’s cheeks. She suddenly realized in what kind of scandalously attractive company she’d been caught by her friends.

“Usagi, you didn’t end up going to the beach after all?” Ami blinked. “I thought you couldn’t afford it.”

“No, not exactly,” Usagi trailed sheepishly.

“Were . . . the three of you . . . all together?” Makoto asked, catching on.

“Usagi-chan came with me and Demando-sama to the hot springs,” confirmed Zakuro.

“The hot springs! Oh, those tickets Rei was trying to give away, right?” Ami asked.

Demando nodded and said, “My brother Saffir bowed out at the last minute. So Zakuro invited Tsukino-san.”

“How lovely,” Ami smiled pleasantly.

Makoto grinned knowingly at Usagi, who was trying to avoid her gaze.

“Demando-sama! Kuro-chan!”

At that moment, the little reunion swelled twice in size, as the Ayakashi approached from the opposite direction, all sporting fresh glowing tans and sun-lightened hair.

“And Usagi-chan! Ami, Makoto!” Beruche smiled. “I can’t believe we’re running into you two again, after seeing you at the beach!”

“Where is Saffir?” It was Petz, who seemingly materialized behind Demando. She was gazing lividly. “Did he bail on you? I swear, when I get ahold of him . . .”

“Oh, he was very kind to let me go in his place,” Usagi said, holidng up her hands in an attempt to sooth the woman’s nerves.

“He did – he – oh, he did? Well,” Petz’s features softened magically. She suddenly acquired the rude habit of staring, alternatingly, at Usagi and Demando.

“What a pleasant arrangement!” Calaveras smiled broadly.

“I don’t believe it!” It was a tenth voice, arriving spontaneously from the entrance to the station. Now the threesome had officially been assaulted from all directions.

“Rei-chan!” Usagi choked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick up Makoto and Ami. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I – ”

“She ended up using the third ticket of yours, Rei-chan,” Petz explained helpfully, now placated.

Rei put her hands to her hips, a little smugly “Oh. Is that so?” She leaned back, almost balancing, to take a full survey of the blushing blonde. “You’ll have to tell us all about it!”

In the shadows before the door to the garden courtyard, Nami paced back and forth. She hesitated to enter. She stopped then, eyes focusing into nowhere.

“I won’t tell Aiko – not this time,” her voice sounded resolvedly. It echoed in the depthless dark.

Author's Note: This took exceedingly long to post. I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't as hard for you to read as it was for me to write. Please review!