The nights had grown colder, and she was loathe to let herself think about it.
She simply put on more clothes, bundled up in her well-worn coat, and walked to work with the rest of Tokyo’s throbbing humanity. Everyone was abuzz with theories; she simply pulled her hat further over her ears. In the office, she simply smiled and changed the topic, still possessing such a bubbly, trustworthy demeanor that no one questioned her staunch refusal to talk about it.
Of course she knew why. You could not entirely change the future. Oh, the movies would tell you it was possible, that nothing was destined. She knew, all too bitterly, about how destiny could bite you on the ass, and take away your dreams.
As the snow began to fall in July, , she wondered if it would hurt to sleep for a thousand years.
Soon, the entire world was caught up in the hysteria as the climate continued to get colder. All she could do was smile bitterly as the familiar rainbow of colours that had danced at the edges of her vision were conspicuously absent. No one stepped forward with any true solutions, too busy themselves screaming at each other and hurling accusations. Schools and businesses began to close, especially in the warmer climates, as inadequately prepared countries began to panic. Nothing was normal anymore.
The faces she expected to see did not appear as the ice began to thicken. Instead, the voices on the television became increasingly shrill as solutions failed, and people began to die. Her parents all but ordered her to move back in, and she did so with a sense of foreboding, leaving most of her adult life behind. Everything she knew she would need fit into a suitcase; it took her almost triple the time to struggle through the snow to her new, old, home.
Her footprints in the snow were solitary and tiny, and at one point she stopped to look behind her, marveling at the change in her city. Everything looked fresh and clean under such a thick blanket of white, but she had never seen it so empty of people; always there was hustle and bustle, life bursting at the seams. Now it was a frozen ghost town.
Two blocks away, she finally ran into someone else, and as they struggled to greet each other through layers of cloth and ice, it was with a rather rueful smile that she recognized her: Naru. Rather plumper than when they had last met, years ago in the street, she looked to be carrying enough supplies on her back and in her arms for a small army. Distantly, she recalled Naru telling her politely about her newly-born son.
“Konban wa, Umino-san. Where is your husband and son? “
“They’re with my mother. We had to move back in….it’s so terrible, this cold. It won’t go away, will it?” Naru bowed her head, shoulders slumping under her burden. “And no one has stepped forward to stop it, have they?” she whispered, so quiet it was nearly lost on the wind.
“No one knows what happened to cause this. Maybe it truly will never go away.” Naru lifted her head and stared at her with bright, feverish eyes, barely visible from above her scarf. Likely, the woman was sick; so many people were being stricken with the chill.
With a sigh, she dropped her bundles into the snow, watching them sink; it was up to their knees now, still falling gently as they stood there. Naru tilted her face up to the perpetually grey sky and sighed, long and hard. Still staring into the clouds, she said, “She isn’t coming to save the world, is she? Usagi-chan has forgotten us. Or maybe this was meant to be.”
“What? Umino-san, I haven’t spoken to Usagi-chan in years—“
“You know.” Naru suddenly grabbed her by the arms, though her thick mittens couldn’t get a proper grip. “You know. You were one of them! Tell me, is this what was supposed to happen? Isn’t Usagi-chan supposed to save us again?”
“Umino-san, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She twisted away, falling down in the snow. Cold, so cold; she wanted to cry with the sudden terror that gripped her heart. Naru had known all along, and they were all going to die, weren’t they?
Naru was trembling as she picked up her bundles, staggering again under their weight. “You don’t care anymore. Wouldn’t you do anything, if you could save this world? You’ve seen her power! Why isn’t she here for us now?”
The snow continued to fall as she sat there, unwilling to stand up. Naru stomped away, her teeth audibly chattering, slowly disappearing as the rest of the city had, silence in her wake.
There was no power in the city. Most of the world was failing, power grids falling under the thick coats of ice and winter storms. Her parents were taking longer to wake up, and she wondered if it weren’t a mercy. She wished she could simply sleep and not awaken again.
One day, she came down the stairs to find them in her living room.
She couldn’t move. They were staring at her with wary faces, battle-worn and older. Uranus and Neptune were casually holding hands as they stood on either side of their princess. Mars had a short bob of hair, defiantly showing the scar across her neck, much the same way Jupiter’s short cut showed off her eyebrow. Mercury had grown hers long and braided it back. Pluto and Saturn were nowhere to be seen, possibly dead, but she doubted it. Eternal Sailor Moon was tired, circles under her eyes, and holding onto Tuxedo Kamen like a lifeline. Neither of the cats was with them, which oddly hurt, though she couldn’t imagine what Artemis would say to her. She had betrayed him, after all.
Her eyes drifted over the gathering, searching for a familiar flash of golden orange, creasing when she didn’t see it. She stared at Eternal Sailor Moon, questioning. The odango-haired blonde smiled at her, releasing her prince to step forward and enfold her in a hug. “Mina-P,” she sighed, squeezing her tight. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“Usagi-chan,” she mumbled, hugging her back. “What are you doing here? The world is freezing! Aren’t you supposed to save everyone?”
Eternal Sailor Moon released her, taking her hand. “I’ve been trying, Mina-P. But we’re missing something. All of us, together…we’re all needed.” She held something in her other hand, a familiar flash of gold.
“No….NO! I refuse! I left that behind me!” She yanked her hand away, cradling it protectively against her chest as Eternal Sailor Moon stared calmly. “I don’t want to be that person. Why isn’t my replacement with you? Did she refuse as well?” She laughed desperately. “It’s too much power and beauty. Perhaps she did.”
Mercury’s voice was clipped and cold, a far cry from the shy genius of years ago. “Selfish Minako. She did not give up the power; the power left her. It would not hold. We’ve tried to put the world into sleep, as we were meant to, but the power of Venus would not co-operate.”
“It’s you, Minako-chan. You were always meant to be Venus. Until the day you die, that was your fate. As it is with us.” Mars, in a strange contrast, sounded much sweeter and understanding than the often snappish and haughty Rei that she remembered. Even her eyes were kind.
She shook her head, withdrawing further. “But I gave it up! I gave you my pen. I cut that part of myself off and left it to wither. Why can’t it pass on?”
Uranus and Jupiter were giving her identical looks of annoyance, so much so that she almost started laughing despite her anguish. Obviously the blonde had been giving the brunette some lessons in being a proper soldier: all attitude, no finesse. Her impending giggling must have been obvious as Uranus snapped at her, saying, “You’ve gotten weak and soft, Minako. The soldier of Venus was never at such a loss! You were the leader of the sailor soldiers, and now look at you: pathetic. You’ve become a disgrace. Have you done nothing but grow lazy and fat since you turned your back on the mission?”
“Happily. I worked with children and watch them smile. I would come home and eat on the couch. I had no fear for my life, no concern that one day I would never come home alive, no worry that the next menace would mean impending doom! I was normal, ignorant, and happy!” she screamed, looking ridiculous in her overcoat, floppy hat, and loose scarf as she stomped around the foyer, glaring daggers at the scantily-clad soldiers. Likely they thought her insane. She wasn’t sure if they were wrong.
“Those same children may be dead now,” Jupiter said flatly, her voice an oddly musical rasp. “You said you wanted to be normal, like everyone else. But is it truly worth it, when you know you can make a difference?”
Naru’s words. She looked out the window at the never ending vista of snow and ice, wondering how many of her patients still lived, looking out at the same world as she did. Not enough by far, she knew; so many of the earliest victims were children.
She could feel the tug of the power behind her, the vicious cycle of joy and heartache she had willingly walked away from. Could she take it again? Oh yes, in a heartbeat; it was a drug she had craved for years and refused to acknowledge. But it would be her life. She would no longer be Aino Minako, chubby pediatrician, but Sailor Venus, one of the sailor soldiers fated to protect the beautiful queen. And this time, there would be no turning back.
Everything was destined, if several years late.
Silently she removed her mitten and held out her hand, almost crying at the feel of the pen as it was placed into her palm. She held it up, though she still did not look directly at it, allowing her fingers to trace the sigil slowly, knowing the curve and angle against her skin. Eternal Sailor Moon was smiling at her as she whispered, “Venus Crystal Power. Make Up!”
It was time flowing in reverse. The years of sedentary melted away, hardening into muscle; skin beaten by the wind and sun softened and glowed. She felt her hair untangle and thicken, taking on a golden sheen she hadn’t seen in years, a frisson of magic dancing through the strands to tie into the red bow she had forsaken along with her pen. It was so beautiful she wanted to cry, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek as she stood straight and tall in her heels, balancing perfectly.
This was her, for the rest of her life. Until she fell in battle she would be the soldier of Venus, the golden goddess who would lead the team to war. She arched her arms, stretched like a cat, and bowed to her princess. “Serenity. Please pardon the abandonment of my post. I await your command.”
There was no time to mourn the bland life she was leaving behind. There was too much to do, and the world was beautiful and bright to her eyes again; her imagination had not failed her at all.
Fin.
