Yaten’s Love Song, Part 1

Many’s the time when I’ve stood out here, staring, fixated, at the stars. Brilliant holes in the darkness, as if needles had studded the deep blue cloth in an attempt to sew up forever the mysteries of the universe. That project failed, as all projects of that sort do. And instead of wrapping us in a tight sheath and sealing us in ignorance, it’s exposed us to the glittering lights of knowledge not yet gained.

Knowledge is funny that way. It appears despite all efforts to conceal it. When you don’t know about something, you never imagine it might exist. And when you finally find out– well, then you don’t know how your world could have ever existed without it.

It’s been a while since we arrived at our new home. That’s all I can say, for months and years are meaningless far from Earth. But I still seem to sleep and wake up as though I were on that planet.

A lot of things have changed for us since we’ve been there. Most importantly, the Princess has found a new way to rule. Her strict smiles that lit our way then have been transformed into gestures of more warmth, letting the people see what we have known about her for quite some time. No longer the completely dedicated, perfect, untouchable ruler she was, she now appears to the people as flawed, but gentle, and accepting of others’ flaws– of the little bit of Chaos in our hearts, she says with a secretive smile. The people love her as they loved her then, but more genuinely, more freely, and we three have grown in our love for her too. She has truly become great. Guided by her hand, our meager band has turned the bare rock of Shinsei into a thriving colony. There were only a handful of survivors at the start. But every so often a familiar face will wander over the hills, confused as to where they’d been, but happy to be reunited with us. And there will be a small spark of gold in the sky, and we’ll look upwards gratefully.

As for us personally, we are living in an orbiting palace, Star Castle. Shinsei is a small planet, and the idea of a satellite was Taiki’s, “to maintain a constant and even vigil over the colony,” so he said. I really have to give him credit for that– it was a wonderful idea. Wonderful ideas are his business now.

Seiya’s business is somewhat different. He is the Princess’s consort now, and they do seem very happily in love. But there’s a blonde-haired angel hiding behind his dreams sometimes– not that I blame him for that. She remains, fluttering, in all our hearts. The symbol of all we’ve learned from our time on that world. All we’ve taken back with us.

But still I stand, staring out into the infinity we’ve traveled. And I ponder love, and the curious differences between man and woman. I never knew there was such a thing as gender, and now that I do, I can’t get my mind off it.

Logically, it’s a rather primitive concept, especially for a society that knows love. Why should the choice of partners be limited? I think back to that enigmatic pair, Haruka and Michiru. They are both of the type “Woman,” but so in love nonetheless. I feel sorry for them– Michiru shall never know the joy of carrying her true love’s child, or vice versa. Just because they don’t have the correct match of parts. It seems cruel to restrict it that way– why shouldn’t one know the full joy of their beloved, whoever they may be? Here, of course, we have no genders, although some people act “masculine” or “feminine” as it is called on Earth. Everyone is capable of both impregnating and being pregnant. And everyone is therefore equal.

But still– I was a “guy” on Earth. And, I suppose, now that I think about it, I feel like a “guy” too. And I wonder– what would it be like? And when all is still, and no stars move but prick me in the eyes with their pinpoint stares, I even wish. Wish– I wish I could return– I wish I could become a male for real. If I was a male for real, maybe…

(And the stars stare me down, daring me to continue…)

…if I was a male for real, maybe she…

**
Shinsei means “new star” or “new planet.” Very imaginative, those Starlights…
**

Present, Juuban

“Todaaay……” Minako announced to the entire Juuban Heights apartment complex, “…is Mako-chan’s first ballet lesson!”

“Would you keep it down!?” shushed Makoto, ushering her overenthusiastic friend inside. “It’s a Sunday and most normal people sleep in, you know.”

“Yadda, yadda, yadda,” sang the blonde, as she milled about Makoto’s apartment. Her hair was up in a huge bun, and she was wearing a leotard with shorts over it, carrying an athletic bag in one hand and a boom box in the other. “All I know is– is there an outlet anywhere in this room?– Mako-chan’s offered to give me cooking lessons if I give her– put this on, hon– dancing lessons. So here I am– aren’t you ready yet?”

Makoto looked down at herself. It was not easy finding a leotard for a girl who usually shopped at Big ‘n’ Tall. “I feel like a Jell-O mold,” she said deadpan.

“Well, you look great.” The unstoppable Minako gave her a wink and a thumbs-up. “So let’s go!” She punctuated her remark by slamming the “play” button on the boom-box, and some danceable (if less than classical) music started. “Now you stand in front of me, and hold the table like a barre, okay? The first move is a plie, you go down and bend your knees like this. We’ll do four, and then four releves… that’s going up on your toes, see? Got it?” In English, she called out, “One! Two! Three!”

~

About fifteen minutes into the exercise, Makoto was feeling slightly ill. Minako had lost herself in Jane Fonda land, working out with a huge grin, tightly shut eyes, and no grip on reality. She hadn’t bothered to explain the last few exercises, and Makoto had no idea whether she was doing them right. She did, however, know that she had a cramp and wanted to stop, but Minako was busy shouting “Kick! and Kick! Come ON!” in an odd mixture of Japanese and English, and had tuned her student out.

Makoto inched closer to her friend, trying to avoid the erratic movements of her left leg, which periodically shot out in one direction or the other. “Um, Minako-chan…” she said softly, amidst beats from the boom box and KICK!s from Minako, “I’m doing my best, but…”

“KICK! Ganbare!”

Moving around the other side of the table now, Makoto leaned in toward the other girl. “Erm… yo… Minako-chan… could we stop for a minute maybe…”

“KICK!”

“Mina… moshi-moshi…”

“*KICK!*”

Makoto leaned in closer and sucked in a sharp breath. She was barely inches from Minako’s enthusiastic profile. Tight-lipped smile, barking orders, tense scowl over eyes shut in fierce concentration… but this close, Makoto could see gritted teeth between shouts, wetness at the corner of the eyes, locked shoulders… with another gasp, Makoto realized that Minako was fighting desperately to keep from crying.

She walked back around the table and placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders firmly. She took a deep breath, paused for a moment… and shook Minako as hard as she could. “GET A GRIP WHY DON’T YOU MINAKO-CHAN!!!!”

~

Several minutes and a plate of freshly baked cookies later, Minako took another sip of water and looked up apologetically at her friend. “Gomen nasai, Mako-chan.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto smiled, sitting down with her own glass of water. “But– what’s going on, Minako-chan?”

Minako turned away. “Nothing…”

“You’re a terrible liar.” The blonde turned back, surprised, to see Makoto winking at her, mouth closed around a straw. One long gulp later, she grinned. “I could see your eyes. Now what is it, or wh…”

“…stop…”

The voice was weak, but Makoto stopped mid-tease with a look of sudden surprise and concern. Minako hadn’t turned away quite as far, and this time the tears in her eyes were glisteningly obvious. She stared wistfully, aqua gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the clock on Makoto’s wall. And the small voice came again, a little stronger, but still soft, pleading. “Just… stop it, please.”

Makoto exhaled. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding in the breath. The shimmering tears were balanced so precariously just inside Minako’s eyelids, and it seemed that if they fell, the girl would crumble… Now was not the time. Not yet.

“Okay. But don’t forget, I’m your friend…”

**
Ganbare = do your best!
Moshi-moshi = Hello? (as if answering a telephone)
Gomen nasai = I’m sorry
**

Star Castle

Taiki slapped Yaten on the back of the head.

“Yow!” The silver-haired sentinel turned from the huge paneled window and laughed at the taller figure, who was already halfway down the hall. “And hello to you too!” he shouted.

Taiki turned back briefly, waving at his friend. “Cheer up,” he said, smiling.

“I’m cheery, I’m cheery,” pouted Yaten, insulted. At Taiki’s half smile, he scowled and made a face.

“Really.” Taiki walked back toward the shorter Starlight, the teasing grin still on his face, eyes shifting halfway between Yaten’s face and the starry panorama.

Yaten bristled. “What, don’t you believe me? Watch it, or I’m going to wipe that smile right off your smug little face.”

Now standing right next to him, Taiki looked down. WAY down. “MY little face.”

“Enough with the height gags,” Yaten grumbled. “It’s tired.” He placed his palms on the glass again and continued to stare out at the void.

Taiki gave a self-deprecating smile to Yaten’s back, then moved up alongside him. “Something going on out there?” he asked.

“Nothing unusual,” answered Yaten. “All the stars feel okay.”

“Then what’s with–” Halfway through his sentence, Taiki reconsidered.

“Well, if you sense anything strange, let me know. In the meantime, you’re on duty, partner.”

Yaten gave an exasperated sign. “What, already?”

“‘Fraid so.” Taiki gave a mock sympathetic sigh. “It’s a tough life, though, isn’t it?”

“Like you’d know.” Yaten looked daggers at the red-haired Senshi.

“Mister Cerebral.”

“Better a geek than an empath any day.”

“Hear, here.” Yaten sang out immediately, then blushed at his readiness to agree. A feeling of dread crept along his shoulders as he realized that Taiki was staring at him, a suddenly serious expression on his face. All at once, Yaten desperately wished he was a turtle.

“Sensing all the stars… having to feel everything that everyone around you feels…” He paused, and Yaten cringed farther. He was used to Taiki’s constant scientific inquiries, but that didn’t make them any more pleasant. How many times could you possibly try and explain empathy to a non-empath? Yaten steeled himself for the inevitable questions.

“How do you do it?”

He blinked. That’s not how it went…

Taiki was in earnest. “I can’t figure out how you manage it. When we were on Earth, both Seiya and I were on the verge of falling apart from our own pain. But you were feeling both our pain and the pain of all the dying stars. I can’t even begin to imagine. How can you possibly handle that much emotion without falling apart?”

Yaten stammered and fell silent. Nobody had ever asked him that question before… not so directly. How do you describe what it’s like to feel galaxies, to hurt with strangers, to have to cut off the most basic of responses simply to survive? The question was so intrusive, he felt violated somehow. “You… I wouldn’t even bother explaining it to you,” he lashed out, rather more nastily than jokingly. “You with your head up in the clouds.”

Deadpan, Taiki said, “We’re orbiting in outer space. There are no clouds.”

“See!?!?” blurted an exasperated Yaten. “That’s just what I mean!”

Giving a snort, he turned away. Taiki broke into his trademark giggle, leaning against the window, his shoulders flapping as a high-pitched cadenza of laughter swelled and faded. Finally, straightening up, he wiped the tears from his eyes. “What’s so funny?” Yaten finally demanded.

“You,” answered Taiki as he walked down the hall, still grinning and chuckling uncontrollably. “You’re so obvious, it’s horrible. Hee hee hee!” He opened a door and just before turning the corner, looked back at the frazzled blond. “Tough, isn’t it, having your own feelings to deal with too? Yeesh, the only thing worse than a cranky empath is an empath who’s thinking about someone with looong eyelashes…” He disappeared just soon enough to escape a ball of blue lightning, which left a huge scorch mark on the door.

**

Seven Earth months ago, Juuban

The Three Lights photo shoot was long past over, even though Itabashi Saki had kept them all late. The last of the straggling crew members had finally left, and two of the Lights had headed for home, as had Saki and the others. So it was with a great deal of surprise that Yaten discovered the girl sitting in the alleyway, tinted green with the faint glow of the coffee machine. “Ara… Aino-san!” he stuttered.

She looked up, looking more sleepy than surprised. “‘Minako’ is okay,” she smiled.

“Are you nuts? Hanging out in an alley like this, late at night.”

“Awww, I didn’t know you cared.” She batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously, and Yaten rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly.

“I just thought you’d gone home already,” he said, walking around her. He shoved a few coins into the coffee machine. “Nope,” she answered, looking down again. “Just thinking about all the stuff I saw today. The photo shoot and everything–” She rested her chin on her crossed arms, leaning forward onto her knees. “I’d really like to do that, you know. If I could.”

Yaten felt something peculiar– a twinge of pain from the girl beside him, a strange, lingering wish. Somehow losing control of his instinct to cut her off, he found himself curious, wanting to press her for more. Maybe it was fatigue from the long, long evening. Taking a sip of the hot liquid and flinching at its taste, he pressed his back against the machine and slid down to a sitting position next to her. “Eh? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly, and Yaten felt her closing like a flower at night. It made him feel sad… not just her sadness, though, but some melancholy of his own at losing this contact with her.

He backed off. “Whatever,” he yawned. “I’m glad *some*one thinks we’re doing well…”

With the sudden movement of a striking snake, Minako snatched the coffee cup from his extended hand. He blinked as she scolded him. “What do you MEAN!? You guys are amazing, don’t you know that!?”

The reprimanding spark in her voice caught Yaten’s attention, even if the words were no more than any fan said in all those frustrating letters. In any case, at least her mind was opening again, even if it was burning red with outrage. This was fun, trying to figure out what was behind her mood shifts, and Yaten felt eager to continue the game. He snatched back the coffee cup, giving her a daring look.

“Don’t you know how much everyone adores you guys?!” she continued to rant. Her voice built up toward a fever pitch. “It’s totally what I want to be, you know, to have everyone love me– What have you guys got to complain about? YOU’RE not the little nobody who’s stuck in nowheresville. You’re famous! I’d give anything to be doing EXACTLY what you’re doing, every last bit of it… I’d give anything to BE you!”

“..IKENAI!!”

Coffee splashed to the ground, spreading a slow, dark stain against the pavement, eerily thick in the green light. Two frozen figures in an alleyway gaped with mirroring expressions… both shocked at the intensity of Yaten’s outburst. Minako was stunned, Yaten horrified, at the sudden burst of emotion and energy that seemed to rise up out of nowhere to combat those too-enthusiastic words. Yaten had no idea that he’d been pushed that far, that he even had the power to shout so loudly. He clutched at his own throat, blinking several times, as Minako barely blinked at all.

“…Do… Doshite?” finally escaped from Minako’s mouth, sounding weak and frightened.

His heart pounding erratically, Yaten hastily stood up and turned to go. “You don’t want this,” he said as coldly as he could. “Trust me. Minako.” At the sound of her name from his lips, he shivered.

He walked away, trying to control the insane leaping inside his chest. Minako’s voice echoed past him, but this time it felt different, felt artificial somehow. “Oh yeah?” she hollered. “Well, you just watch me! I’m gonna be the biggest star there is! Number One in the Nation, Aino Minako, volleyball champion, idol singer, and…” The list of statistics faded into the background and Yaten ran off through the darkness of the city streets.

**
Ara = an exclamation of mild surprise
Ikenai = “You can’t do that”; “don’t you dare”; “it’s wrong”
Doshite = why
**

Present Day, Star Castle

“If we were on Earth…” drawled Yaten, after taking a long swig from his glass.

Taiki and Seiya half-groaned, half-nodded, raising their glasses to toast that assertion. They’d been talking and drinking for a little while, and Yaten’s quarters were littered with empty flasks and canisters of food. The brown wall panels looked that much fuzzier after the alcohol, and while none of the three were dangerously intoxicated, they were all a little sillier than usual. And when the Starlights relaxed and got silly, their conversation inevitably turned in one direction.

“On Earth,” Seiya echoed. “Damn. Do you guys remember showing up at school that morning?” A ring of grunting yeses resounded. Seiya was sprawled on a long couch, grinning wickedly and turning sharp, amused eyes at the others. Taiki sat straight up in a chair, but kept breaking into giggles every other second, and Yaten was curled up tensely, sitting on his bed.

“Tsukimi dumplings. Yum.” Seiya licked his lips.

“I’m telling on you, Seiya.” Yaten threw a pillow in his direction.

Taiki giggled. “Attack of the fan club cards.” Then, in a squeaky voice: “Ano, ne…”

“Yoo hoo!” Yaten shouted, waving hysterically. “Yaten-kuuun! Sit right heeeere!”

“Oh, stars…” Seiya doubled over laughing. “Minako-chan was so unbelievable.”

“Out of control,” agreed Taiki between “tee hee”s.

“Okay.” Yaten slammed his hand on the headboard of his bed to get his friends’ attention. “Stupidest thing we ever did as idols.”

“You want that in alphabetical or chronological order?” Taiki grinned.

“Idol cops!” volunteered Seiya.

But Taiki won the day. After gulping down another shot, he rose to his feet slowly, stood very still, and then struck a fighting pose. “Chou Blue! Chou Red!”

The other two Lights nearly fell over. “That… was… the… greatest!” Yaten gasped as Taiki bowed and thanked the Academy. A mention of Seiya’s wanna-be monster scare sent them into new rounds of hysterics, and Yaten wiped tears from his eyes. “Nice try anyway, Seiya!”

Seiya muttered some choice words about his botched prank, and wandered to other memories of that weekend. “Odango in her bathing suit.”

“Seiya no hentai!” Yaten burst out.

“Oh, yeah,” Taiki said, rolling his eyes. “As if you weren’t eating it up. Minako kowaaai!”

“You’re downright scary when you do that girl voice,” muttered Yaten as Seiya fell off the couch and scrambled back upright, chortling at that comment still.

“My turn,” said the dark-haired Starlight, when he could catch his breath. “Cutest girl on Earth. My vote’s for…”

“Odango,” Taiki and Yaten intoned flatly.

“Well, she was!” insisted Seiya, pouting. “Taiki, your turn.”

Once more, Taiki made a show of getting up, putting his hand on his heart, and assuming his most solemn expression. “In my humble opinion,” he asserted, while the others shouted at him to get on with it, “the most fabulous example of feminine charm, grace, and style in the pantheon of lovely ladies we became acquainted with…” He went on for a while, occasionally stumbling on a word, while Yaten and Seiya faked elaborate death scenes in the background.

“…is…”

Taiki waited for complete silence. Then he cleared his throat and said in a very small voice, “…Haruka.”

The room burst into utter chaos.

When the giggles had finally died down, Seiya rubbed his eyes and said, “Since we ALL know what Yaten’s gonna say, and I’m beat, I move we adjourn this meeting of…”

Yaten stood up on the bed. “Hey! What was that?”

“I’m with you there,” Taiki said, stumbling towards the door.

“‘Scuse me!”

“Night, Yat…”

“HOLD IT!!!”

The screech resounded off the ceiling, and Seiya and Taiki stopped in their tracks. “Omae-tachi…” growled Yaten. “If you both know what I was gonna say, why don’t you clue me in? Hmmmmm?”

Seiya and Taiki stifled giggles.

“Come ON!” Yaten’s snarls half-faded into whines. “What are you guys thinking?” His shoulders tensed.

Taiki doubled over in a fit of laughter. “Poor helpless, hopeless Yaten…”

“I’ve just about had it with you!” warned Yaten, making a fist.

Still the others giggled on. “What could…” His eyes widened. “Hey, Luna was a cat, okay?”

The pair blinked. “Luna?”

A moment of silence, and then more laughter. “Clueless!!!”

Yaten felt sick. “All right, you two, get… outta… my… rooooom!” He flailed his arms like a madman, and the others acquiesced, giggling all the way.

“Night, Yaten… hee hee hee hee…”

“Poor Yaten…”

“…we’re going, we’re going…”

“Bye bye… woo hoo, scary…”

And just before they shut the door, someone called out, “Minako kowaiiiiiiiiii!”

Yaten sunk back to a sitting position and stared at the door for several hours.

**
Tsukimi = moon-viewing festival
Ano, ne = “Um, excuse me” (referencing Ami’s way of speaking)
Chou = literally Super; the names of characters the Lights played on an action show
Odango= dumpling; this is what Seiya calls Usagi
Seiya no hentai = “Seiya, you perv!”
kowai = scared (“Minako kowai” is Minako saying ‘I’m scared’ in an overly cute and coy way)
Omae-tachi = you guys (with an angry tone here, as in “You bastards…”)
**

Recently, Star Castle

A rather stout chambermaid hummed to herself as she dusted off Yaten’s dresser. Reaching behind it, she felt something between the drawers and the wall that didn’t belong– something wedged snugly in there. Confused, and more than a little curious, she drew it out. “Yaten Kou’s Personal Journal,” she read out loud to the empty room.

The nosy old woman couldn’t help herself. Taking a seat on the nearby couch, she flipped through the pages and began to read.

Tonight I observed something that wasn’t meant for my eyes. I had walked into the Princess’s chambers to retrieve a paper that I’d left there after discussing it with Seiya, and I was in the next room when it took place. There was only a half-draped curtain between me and her dressing room, and by the time I realized what I was going to witness, it was too late to leave. So I watched.

The princess was sitting on a small bench, facing slightly sideways, her robes loose and draping over her legs unceremoniously. She’d been taking down her hair, pin by pin… Kakyuu-hime has unbelievably gorgeous hair, small red waves that fall neverending into a sea at her feet when she lets it down. As the waterfall splashed in sequence, I was struck by her beauty and by the look on her face… such weariness, and a sadness I never get to see in daily palace life. I knew right then I was intruding on a private moment.

The maid looked up briefly, trying to reconcile this sensitive, scholarly Yaten with the boyish prankster she’d watched grow up, and read on.

Seiya came in the door then, looking equally tired, as though his six feet of height were about to crumple in on him. He placed a hand briefly on the Princess’s shoulder, and continued on his way. He was almost at the curtain (and I was almost discovered!) before he stopped, looked back, and noticed the look on her face. “Must be a full moon,” he joked, giving a bit of a smile. In the following instant, he realized how foreign that idiom sounded to her, and turned away again, whereas she looked up at him with a sudden intensity.

“Fighter.”

He stopped short, and I felt my heart skip a beat with his. Kakyuu-hime always called Taiki and me by our formal names, but since we’ve returned, she nearly always addressed Seiya less formally. She had serious questions on her mind tonight.

Slowly, achingly, he turned back to her. All imperial flair– more *flare*– she continued. “Do you miss her that much?”

“Kakyuu.” His voice broke, and he strode rapidly to her chair, kneeling beside her and bowing his head in the stance of a repentant sinner. She put her hands forth, and he buried his face in them, weeping and kissing them repeatedly.

“Seiya,” she continued in a gentler tone, lifting his face so his eyes could not escape her gaze. He flinched at the probing stare. “I need to know, Seiya,” she said levelly. “Do you truly want to be my consort? Seiya, do you love me?”

Silence dragged on forever. I cursed myself for existing and ruining this moment, even if they didn’t realize it. How I wished I could close my eyes and open them again somewhere else.

“When our planet was destroyed,” Seiya began, gaining some confidence, “we had nowhere to go, but to find you.” His hands found hers.

“And that search took us to Earth, where we found our enemy and our new allies before we found you. But for so long even before that, we were traveling the world looking for you. Sending our message out over the airwaves, through concerts and albums and everything we could use. Every night, every concert, was about you. But you still didn’t appear.

“And then I met Odango, and she had this light about her that was so strange and so beautiful. I wondered, could it be you? Surely two people in the universe couldn’t have that same sparkle. And I tried to mention it to her, to hint, so that you might realize that I knew it was you, and reveal yourself to me. But it wasn’t you. She wasn’t you.

“We were all so tired. We’d been searching and searching, and you didn’t appear. It was like the nights had grown steadily darker, over all those months. Kakyuu, we needed…”

His voice broke again. I felt myself choke too. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the tone of his voice when he continued.

“We needed a reason to hope. We had to start to believe in these people of Earth, to give our hearts and minds to them. Or else we’d be empty. We’d have no more energy to search for you. So in order to survive, I… I had to stop seeing Odango as just a target or a container, that could possibly hold the star I was looking for. I had to start seeing her as a human, a star of her own. And when that happened, I fell in love with her.” The Princess flinched, but remained silent. Seiya dropped his head for a minute, then rose to his feet, looking down at her passionately.

“Don’t you see? We thought you might be dead! Even Yaten couldn’t feel your presence in the galaxy. And Odango taught me that I had to give my heart to the living. I knew I would fall in love with her if I let myself, so I didn’t. For a long time. But that was killing me too, because without listening to my feelings, *I* wasn’t human anymore!” His tone reached a violent peak, and I saw fear in Kakyuu’s eyes for the first time. What she was afraid of, I couldn’t quite sense. The violence in his voice, or the truth of his words?

“I loved her so much. But she didn’t feel the same. She had a love already, and as jealous as I was, I’d never destroy that. Because I, too, had a true love. And I was destined to return to her, no matter what happened.”

“Seiya.” The Princess spoke, hesitantly, for the first time since he’d began his story. He began to speak again, and she attempted to cut him off. “You don’t need…”

“No, there’s more,” he said. “There was a night– oh, stars, that night breaks my heart every time I think of it. I did something… that reminded her of her lover… and she was crying, crying how she wanted to see him. And I took her by the shoulders… and I said to her, ‘Am I not good enough?’”

Another moment of silence. Then Seiya repeated the phrase. Kakyuu was once again shocked into silence.

“And this is what I need you to see, my star. I asked her that question because I was fighting fate. By that time, you had returned, but what is a man to do when his heart has moved on and then his first love comes back from the dead? I wanted to take my heart and flee the conflict… just grab her and run far away from all the turmoil of your return. You know that it wouldn’t have worked, don’t you?” He sat on the bench beside her now, taking her hands. “I asked her that question– am I not good enough? –because I wanted her to say that yes, I was an agreeable substitution. The consolation prize for her lost love. Because that’s what she was to me. I thought I could deny that– she and I would go away, I wouldn’t have to deal with feelings for a former love. I should have known though, I should have known. I loved Odango when I thought you were gone. But I loved her because the glitter in her star reminded me of you. And now that you’re with me, no one could ever– ever– replace you!”

Crumpling into tears once more, he locked his arms tight around her waist, crying into her shoulder. From my spot, I could see the look on her face of relief, but also of confusion somehow. As if she’d realized that this was a part of his life she’d never be able to understand.

**

Juuban

“Check out these totally cute guys!” Rei enthused, wielding a copy of Ai Ai Idol like it was her battle flag. “Aren’t they incredibly cool and gorgeous?”

There was no response.

She waved the paper again. “Don’t you guys think so?”

Still silence.

Rei double-checked all the parameters. They were hanging at the Crown Cafe– check; there were five teenage girls at the table– check; they’d all downed hot fudge sundaes and were loaded with sugar– check. So what was wrong with this picture? The priestess half-clutched a spirit ward– but there didn’t seem to be any evil spirits around. No youmas, daemons, or anything of the sort draining energy. So what else could be wrong? Looking around quickly, she finally stopped short at the sight of Makoto smiling wryly at her. The brunette lifted on hand to guide Rei’s outstretched arm back onto the table. “Forget it, Rei-chan,” she declared with a bored air.

“Wha–?” Rei let out a disappointed whine. She’d been so eager to share these adorable new discoveries with the gang! In defiance of Makoto’s knowing smile, a new wave of determination flooded through the raven-haired teen. She stood up, leaned over the table, and placed the magazine directly in front of Usagi’s face. “Usagi?” she began.

But the blonde was slurping on her sixth milkshake, playing with the silver ring on her finger and humming to herself slightly. “Told ya,” Makoto intoned. “Now that Mamoru-san’s back, she won’t even look at another guy.” Rei rolled her eyes in annoyance, and shoved her magazine in front of Ami’s face. “Won’t work,” Makoto predicted. “Ami-chan likes guys enough, but she’ll turn blue in the face before she ever admits to it.” Rei was about to show Makoto just what she thought of her narration, when a slight glow from behind the magazine caught her eye.

Ami might not have been blue in the face, but she was certainly bright red. She stammered an apology and buried her face in her book. Rei sighed in defeat. “At least tell me what YOU think of these guys,” she said, collapsing back down and handing the magazine to Makoto.

To her relief, the tall girl squealed. “Hiroshi-kun is so cool!”

“Well, at least we have each other,” Rei grinned and leaned over the page.

“You bet!” Makoto winked. “You and me, boy-hunting pals till the end. And don’t forget Min..” Rei nodded and started to say the name too, but both their words trailed off as they looked across the table. Rei and Minako blinked, rubbed their eyes, and looked again.

The only thing missing was a wind machine and soft pink lights. Minako was idly playing with the straw in her drink, completely oblivious to reality. Her head was slightly tilted to the left and up, as if she was staring at something right above Rei’s head, but miles beyond her. A half-smile danced around the edges of her mouth, shifting from wistful to gleeful with the moving patterns of light from the window. Something even more mysterious was floating in her eyes, but one thing was for sure– those eyes didn’t even see Rei or her fan magazine. Minako was spaced out, even for Minako.

“Behhhhh.” Rei stuck her tongue out at Minako and contorted her face into a series of ridiculous expressions.

“Yoo-hoo!” Mako waved her hands furiously in Minako’s face. Rei and Makoto looked at each other. “What on earth?!”

“She’s gone!”

“Well, we’ve always known that about Minako-chan.” Rei couldn’t resist the offhand remark.

“Maybe…” Makoto seemed to ponder a sudden thought.

Rei pestered her. “Maybe what? Maybe what?”

Makoto began slowly. “Do you suppose… it’s possible… she’s got a secret… BOYFRIEND?”

Gaping, Rei turned back to examine the space cadet. At that moment, a bit of wind rustled the plants outside the windowsill, and bent the light subtly as it filtered through the leaves. A strange shadow fell on Minako’s face, softening her features, making the curves of her cheeks and lips that much sweeter, the long wave of her hair that much finer. In that moment, Rei thought it was VERY possible.

She turned back to her friend, still gaping and speechless. “It’s the only explanation,” Makoto went on. “I mean, really, twice in one week, something’s got to be going…”

“TWICE!?”

Makoto cringed visibly. Oops.

Rei revved into full attack mode. “What do you know that I don’t know, Mako-chan? Spill it!!!”

“All right, all right!” Makoto made like the Cowardly Lion, waving her hands frantically to avoid the barking onslaught of the smaller girl. “Well, you see, erm, she was at my place and… wha?”

A sudden pressure on her other side caused Makoto to stop and turn her head trepidatiously. “Ano… Ami-chan, if you want to look at the magazine, go ahead, but you don’t need to get quite so close, do you?”

The guilty genius looked up to see Makoto’s and Rei’s shocked stares, and promptly turned bright red again. “Gomen nasai!”

**
Ai Ai = Love Love (magazine name)
Ano = Um…
**

Six months ago, Juuban

“Seiya no baka!”

Yaten slammed the door furiously. He was sick, tired, and disgusted. “How ’bout ‘Congratulations, Seiya, on winning that exciting softball game, you really did a great job’?” Seiya snapped back. “Or is that too much for you?” He sat down on the couch and started fiddling idly with a drumstick.

“That’s just like you,” Yaten fumed. “Always thinking of yourself– no, scratch that, you’re always thinking of that Tsukino Usagi and never thinking about our mission!” He kicked a chair, hard, knocking it over sideways. It hit the ground with a satisfying thud. “No wonder the Princess isn’t showing up!”

“Don’t you dare blame me for that!” Seiya growled, brandishing the drumstick. “I’ve been working as hard as the rest of you. It’s not my fault. Just because I want to have some fun in between concerts like a normal person. I’m not the one who’s stomping around, miserable!”

“You’re NOT a normal person!” Clenching his fists, Yaten leaned forward against the couch. He stood now behind Seiya, practically shouting in his ear. “You’re a Starlight, and we’re on a mission! Come on, Seiya, which group means more to you anyway, us, or your precious softball team with your pretty little rabbit girl?”

“Leave her out of this!” Seiya wheeled to face his partner, looking daggers at him. “She’s got nothing to do with this. You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be in love!”

Yaten gasped. Of course he knew, but hearing Seiya admit it… “Have you forgotten all about the Princess?”

“Of course not!” Dark features flashed with outrage and sadness. “But she’s not here, and let’s face it, we might not EVER find her.”

Betrayal swam in Yaten’s shallow eyes. “How can you give up hope that easily?”

“I’m not giving up hope– I’m facing facts,” insisted Seiya levelly, a tone that made Yaten feel he was being slowly and methodically scraped along fields of gravel. “Come on, Yaten– can you feel her at all?” And now his head was caving in… “Can you or can’t you?” Pressure. “Come on! Yes or no?”

“…no…” The admission squeaked out, and Yaten immediately hated himself for admitting it, for being unable to sense her star in the first place, for ever letting her out of his sight. He took the remaining pieces of his pride and lashed out with them, like a whip. “But-”

“But nothing!” Another failed blow, and Yaten felt as if he’d been thrown against a wall by his own strength. “She’s gone! She could be–”

“–Don’t say it!” Yaten pleaded, losing control of his voice.

His begging eyes pacified Seiya slightly. “Well, she could be. You could always feel her before, if she was close by.”

“I didn’t feel her star disappear,” Yaten insisted. “She’s still alive.”

“How do you know for sure? Maybe you weren’t paying attention.” That was the lowest of the low… accusing him of looking the other way while the Princess was kidnapped. “I’d know, I tell you!” And then, because he knew it’d hurt, “Maybe you’re the one who slipped up back home, when you let Galaxia through our defenses! If it hadn’t been for your lousy mistakes…”

“Does it matter!?” Seiya screeched, having hit the boiling point. Tears were flowing freely now down his contorted face. “Does it even matter anymore?” Anger and despair stabbed Yaten over and over again in his throat and seemingly hollow chest, but his own frustration flared its bitter shield as Seiya went on. “We’re alone!! We’ve been alone since we arrived! We’ve been trapped in this mission with no end in sight, unable to do anything but search for her– and fail–” Seiya punctuated each word with a jab into the cushions with his drumstick. “Every– single– time!”

Yaten was incredulous. “So you just decide you’re not gonna take it anymore, is that it? You’re gonna have your fun, forget the Princess, forget our mission–”

“Damn it, Yaten, I’ve mourned enough! I’ve been miserable since the day we started this.” Yaten’s eyes widened, and then narrowed in sudden understanding and disgust. “You’re going to deny me my happiness?”

“I’m already denying mine!”

And for the first time since they’d entered the room, there was a true silence.

Yaten seethed, looking up through bloodshot eyes. Fists trembled. And when he spoke, his voice was icy. “You think you’re the only one who’s hurting? You think you’re the only one who’s had to sacrifice their own life for the sake of the mission? Do you truly believe you’re the only one of us who wants to be doing more than stomping around, playing teen idol, and feeling like a failure? Well, I’ve got news for you, Seiya. I hurt too. I hurt too!”

“Yaten…” breathed Seiya in surprise. But his fellow Light was already out the door.

~

Wiping his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve, Yaten stormed down the street. How dare he. How dare he! sang the voice in his mind, over and over as if mocking him. He nearly tripped over a three-year-old-girl who stared after him as he went on, not even noticing she was there. Teenagers shouted in excitement, but they couldn’t touch him. Completely alone, he raged, a one-man hurricane tearing up the pavement.

Emotions swirled all around him, shock, surprise, contentment, fear, distrust, everything that everyone on the street was feeling. He didn’t acknowledge them, but at the same time he didn’t push them out– they were just feelings, not people, just different colors that built up beneath him and buoyed his own confusion and anger up past the floodlines. He felt as though he was drowning in a thick stew, desperately trying to fight his way to the surface.

And then, like a rope swung down from the heavens, the clarion call of a kindred sadness cried out to him. Orange and glowing, and so familiar… He grabbed onto it with a leap of his saddened heart. Someone was feeling the same way he was. Someone close by!

Stopping in mid-step, Yaten focused, pushed out all the rushing energies around him, and closed his empathetic sense around that one line. Carefully, he followed it, around the corner and toward a small patch of grass near a children’s playground. His face brightened. There was somebody there, and above the throng of people he could make out a melancholy voice. “…another one, Artemis. I’m just sick of it always interfering. If I ever get to another audition, they’re going to know me as the no-show girl…”

A white cat scampered suddenly off into the bushes, and the girl (whom Yaten now recognized) looked up in surprise. “Oh… Yaten-kun!” Minako said as brightly as she could, trying to hide her puffy, tear-stained face.

“Yo.” Yaten sat down beside her and was instantly aware of a certain calm, like a pink sunrise creeping along the edge of the horizon. He felt the tense muscles in his face relax slowly. “So how’s the star search going?” he said. The words made them both wince.

“Could be better. Can’t I just join you guys and be the fourth Light?” she joked.

Why was each sentence coming out so painfully? He wrinkled his nose at her. “Why would you want that?”

“Oh, a lot of reasons.” A hint of a smile played across her face, surprising Yaten. “You’re real stars. You really shine– but what I like best is, even when you’re shining as a group, you’re each stars yourselves. You can be part of a group, and be yourself, at the same time. You’re really special that way.”

Yaten suddenly had the feeling he was on a speedboat, the motor vibrating violently under the deck as he steered blindly through a dark tunnel. The wind was so strong. “Are we..?” he wondered breathlessly.

She nodded, tilting her head sideways and leaning on her folded arms as she had that other night. “I think that’s really important, don’t you?”

(You’re going to deny me my happiness?)

“No!” Yaten blurted, trying desperately to stop the light show flashing back and forth in the endless tunnel. “When you’re in a group, it’s the group that’s important, not you. You’re just a part of it. Any other way won’t get the job done!”

She was shaking her head. “You’re wrong,” she answered finally, in a low voice that trembled ever so slightly. And once again Yaten felt the strong cord of her emotion matching his own, making all his masks and barriers as transparent as hers were to his empathetic eye.

She went on. “I can’t believe in something like that. If you’re in a group that stifles you, then it’s not a good group. You have to keep your own dreams alive, or you’ll never be able to help them anyway.”

“But sometimes if you act on your own, it’s bad for the group. You won’t get where you’re going. You gotta make some sacrifices.”

“What, sacrifice yourself? Nobody wants you to do that. Nobody who really cares about you.”

The Princess cares. Doesn’t she? “Sometimes there’s something more important, and you can’t do whatever you want!”

Minako wasn’t sure what caused this reaction, but she didn’t appreciate being yelled at. Not tonight. Not after another rejection. Not after her dream was that much farther from her reach. “How would you know? You’ve got everything. You’re an idol. You can do whatever you want.” Whatever I want… “And you can’t? At least you don’t have to deal with the rest of the package. You’re free!”

“Free?” she echoed in horror, and then again, as if she was mocking the word. “I’m more of a prisoner than you’ll ever be. I’m trapped!”

“You think so? I’d give anything to be that thing you hate so much. You’re so selfish!”

“You don’t know the first thing about me, and you don’t know what I’ve given up already! What have you ever given up?” Raging red now, her hair tearing about her, a throaty, scratchy scream. “You wanna talk about sacrifice? You don’t know the meaning of sacrifice!”

Somewhere in the realm of the mind, two painfully bright colors merged and exploded into white.

Yaten hung his head. Two clenched fists scraped the ground, uprooting two clumps of grass, as he kneeled, knees facing Minako’s, but hiding his face beneath a sheath of long silver-blond hair. His whole body trembled.

Minako stared. Her blue eyes quivered. He’d just crumpled before her, deflated like a dying balloon. Her head dropped too, in shame and dismay, and she stared blankly at the crux where the curves of their not-quite-touching knees made a diamond of empty space. “…I’m sorry, Yaten,” she breathed, and the words sounded pitifully weak and insufficient.

“No,” came the equally soft reply, “I’m sorry…”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“..said all that…”

A sniffle.

“There are really some things…”

“…I just shouldn’t say…”

A gray, hesitant silence quavered for a long, whirling moment.

Still they sat, facing each other, heads hung low so that the gold and silver clouds of hair were barely touching, wrapped in an invisible cloak woven of melancholy and of something else, something stranger and more new.

It was only in retrospect that either of them remembered finishing each other’s sentences, or that her hands had closed over his tightened fists. Minako just stared into the dirt, and as for Yaten, he wasn’t seeing anything at all… but enveloped in Minako’s emotion, trying to figure out how he was able to not just sense her feelings, but meld with them somehow. Immersed in this puzzle, he didn’t notice a single tear slide down his nose and make a small, dark stain in the patch of dust where Minako’s eyes were focused.

Those eyes widened at the sudden change of color where they were staring, and she looked up again. “Yaten.. you’re crying?” she gasped, inches from his lowered head.

Her voice, more solid and less breathy than her earlier apology, shook Yaten out of it. He attempted to push her emotion away, stuck his tongue out, grinned, and looked up, saying, “So, you are too. So wha..”

When his head raised to meet her gaze, the teasing expression slid off his face like water, and he lost his words. He felt assaulted by huge blue eyes, staring through him. Dry lips slightly parted, and flushed cheeks still stained from crying. All less than an inch from his own tear-stained features. So very, very close. And her emotions were still melting into his, insisting that they had a place deeper within him than any other sensation his empathetic soul had experienced, deep in the core where he locked his own feelings. Yaten felt as if he were being drawn through a loom, pulled apart, strung together, smoothed over, completed. Bound to her.

Grasping her hands with a slight pressure, he leaned forward, and groaning, nearly obsessively, he pulled her closer, kissing her for a long, intense moment. He felt as though she were diffusing into him, sweet, sweet lips going deeper than his mouth, caressing his bones, kissing his very mind.

The tense fists let go their rooted positions and became claws, clutching at her soft hair, which seemed to tease and slip away just as it brushed against his trembling fingers. She was so warm, so warm and sweet and real, and he kissed the sides and the edges of her mouth, feeling sure that he was turning to liquid, that he’d melt away. For the first time in his life, Yaten Kou, the born empath who felt within him the lives of every star in the heavens, was driven mindless, completely overwhelmed by sensation.

Kissing her mouth repeatedly, softer and shorter, he felt the ground come to a stop beneath him. Her lips were eager, continuing to turn upwards for more, but the dull weight he’d momentarily thrown off was settling back onto his shoulders. Treasuring the feel of her skin in those final moments, he finally let his mouth and hands trail away.

Minako breathed in short, stuttering gasps. What kisses those had been, what strange visions of stars were in her mind! Flushed but glowing, she smiled softly, focusing for some reason on the movement of her lips. Were they different, after such kissing? Did they move differently? What would happen to those lips now? She looked as every girl does after being unexpectedly kissed into dizziness. Absolutely radiant. Because of this, Yaten was terrified.

In horror, he stared blankly at the girl’s reaction. There it was, the monster, expectation. Lit by hope and an irresistible charm, a charm she didn’t even know she was radiating, which made him want to touch her face, to give her the hundreds of kisses he could feel just behind his lips, and discover a thousand others he didn’t even know he had… but the rest of his life was slowly coming into focus again, the grass, the swingset behind her, the fence and the street, and somewhere, blocks away, a room where his two partners were awaiting him. And perhaps even further, a Princess in hiding from a dead planet…

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, shaking his head. She cracked like glass, and he felt every shard fall, cutting himself on her stunned pieces.

He got to his feet, missing the touch of her hands desperately. And he shook his head again, several times, quickly. Hoarsely, he stuttered, “This… is something I can’t do.” Feeling as though he were falling, he ran in the other direction.

She didn’t call out to him, which made it easier to run away. But her sensations didn’t fade, as he expected them to, when the distance between them widened. Still they burned on, the orange cord of her emotion transmuted into a coil, as of a guitar string or a snake, powerful and sparking. He choked on the smoke and ran on.

~

“I hate this place.”

Once again, Yaten slammed the door. “We’re wasting time.” Seiya and Taiki looked up. “We need to cut the chit-chat–” he swept by a small table, knocking over a pile of magazines– “cut the idol bit–” –he stepped firmly on his own face on one of the scattered magazine covers– “cut the flirting–” a pointed glance his way set Seiya off, and he rose with a face full of rage. Taiki pacified him with a glance– “find the Princess, and get out of here!” Yaten sat down abruptly to signal the end of his tirade.

A bit of silence. Then, strangely enough, the next sound was laughter. “Well, what’s with you?” Seiya chuckled, ignoring Yaten’s glares. “You sound almost as if something’s gotten to you!” Rising, he circled round Yaten’s chair and put a hand on the peeved rock star’s shoulder. “Come on, you can tell me,” Seiya crooned patronizingly. “Did something upset poor little Yaten? Make him afraid he might be HAPPY one of these days?”

“Shut up!” stammered Yaten, pushing Seiya away with as much power as he could muster. Seiya smirked. Luckily, the third and most level-headed Light was able to take quick control of the situation.

“All right, you two,” he began, after clearing his throat. “Yaten is right– we need a new plan. We’ve been doing nothing but play catch-up with Galaxia, and trying to keep these other Sailor Soldiers out of trouble.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and paced like an army general. “Now. We’ve got this airplane gig for the fan club tomorrow night. It’s a two level plane, and we should have some time to plan our strategy then. Until then, both of you cool down and start thinking up new ways to get the Princess’s attention. Our allegiance is to her, remember?” Like sheepish schoolboys, the two nodded. “All right then. We’ll discuss it during the ride, and adjust our strategies afterwards.”

~

As it turned out, that very airplane ride made the adjustments for them.

“We don’t run away! Venus Crystal Power… Make Up!”

**
no baka = you idiot; you jerk
**

Present day, Star Castle

The chambermaid started as a friend’s voice called her name. “C–coming!” she stuttered, and left the room in a sudden fright of getting caught. Maids are never the most resourceful criminals, however, and she dropped the book on the floor. It opened to the very last page that had been written on, and had she picked up the journal again, she might have noticed that the ink was still wet…

“It’s my dream,” she’d said.

I didn’t have a dream. I never had the time or space to find my dream. That was what being a Sailor Soldier was all about. How could she, a Sailor Soldier too, how could she stand there with that glowing face and tell me SHE had a dream?

“Soldiers have missions. We don’t have dreams,” I slammed her against the wall, with my words harder than with my arms, but I was the one who felt I was being crucified on concrete. She was still glowing, damn her.

I wonder when it was that I realized she was my dream?

**

Star Castle Throne Room

Yaten bowed formally, dropping to his knees and lowering his head. “Princess.” But the defiant eyes twinkled upward to search her face.

“Healer,” Kakyuu said in a smooth tone from her throne.

He waited for her to allow him to rise. When she said nothing, he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Still she remained silent. Was she waiting for him to speak first? That was not royal protocol. But still, the Princess had an unsettling habit of following her intuitions instead of the rule books. In fact, he was counting on it.

“I come to request a…” Boon? Leave? Favor? What *was* he asking for? “…to make a request of your Majesty.”

She was silent still. Finally, lifting her head slightly, she said, “What sort of request?”

Yaten was about to answer when he felt the world collapsing beneath him. He had a sudden vision of chains breaking, of generations melting away. His stomach sank into his knees. Was that what he was doing, after all? Throwing away his home just as Galaxia had thrown it away? And after he’d fought so hard to get it back?

He bit his lip, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed. “What is troubling you, Healer?” Kakyuu asked, shivering from the fear he was emanating.

“I wish–” He choked, swallowed hard, winced. His mouth opened again, but only an empty cough came out, no words. Couldn’t Kakyuu hear how loud his head and heart were pounding? It wasn’t respectful at all! Snapping his head upwards, green mist coming into bright focus, he heard the words spill out. “I wish to leave your services!”

She looked like she’d been rammed with an iron rod. The color left her face; it seemed she might cave in. Yaten felt as though he’d vomited all over the sacred coronation robes. He vainly attempted to cover his mouth with his hand, but the damn thing would not leave the floor. He’d said it. He’d said it.

The Princess’s expression calmed then, and she rose, pacing slightly before her throne. “This is… quite unexpected, Healer,” she said at last. “Why do you wish to do this?”

He could have sworn he heard her voice tremble a little. “Ummm,” he began. Terribly eloquent. Idiocy– royal idiocy! How could he get it come out right? His poor Princess, who’d been through so much just to get back home with her beloved people and her three loyal protectors, and now she’d lose one? What kind of an ungrateful idiot was he? How could he make her understand? How could he tell her that he felt his life was no longer here, that he wished to return to Earth to explore the part of his soul that he’d left there?

Then, with a gulp, he realized he’d just told her.

This time his fingers did fly to his mouth… hands and face turned ashen, and shaking. She stood, pierced by his unintentional explosion of words, staring down at him with a look that spoke chapters of betrayal and confusion. He tried hard to read her face, but not her mind. Never her mind.

Yaten put up his strongest possible blockade, to keep from invading the sacred privacy of his Princess’s thoughts and feelings. He lowered his head again.

“So,” she began, in the hollow tone of one on her deathbed, “you too cannot let it go.” A certain exchange flew through both their memories– one experienced, one eavesdropped on– as he realized exactly why this had cut her so deeply. “Healer, I have never and still do not understand this all. You come to a place where battles rage, after losing the only home you ever knew and the world you grew up in, and you are subjected to endless trials in a strange place. We finally return home where we belong, where we are loved and accepted, where the shadows of war will no longer haunt us but the beauty of rebirth is with us ever. And still, you want to return?”

Little teardrops itched in the corners of Yaten’s eyes. Closing them tightly, he listened to the swordstrokes of her imperious tone.

“This is a place that needs you. Shinsei benefits daily from your guidance, and Fighter and Maker and I value and treasure your comradeship. This planet, and this Star Castle, is a place where you will always be welcome. You will always have the love and support you need. Your future is certain here, and you will not find that any other place in the universe. You will most likely end up alone and hungry for home. I am somewhat older than you, Healer, and I have watched you grow. I know where you will end up successful and sure. Here. With us.”

“I… understand,” Yaten whispered hoarsely, tears trickling downward like persistent termites across his cheeks. He’d tried, but he’d failed. His eyes squeezed hard to hold the remaining tears in, and he choked. “I thank your Majesty for hearing my request, even if you deni…”

A gentle pressure on his shoulders stopped him. Looking up tremulously, he found himself staring into the Princess’s face… *smiling* face. She’d kneeled down in front of him, her hands blessing both his shoulders like a priest and a sinner redeemed.

“I grant your request,” she said. As he gasped, she went on. “I shall pray for you and miss you daily, as will the others, and all our people. Know that we will always be here for you if you need a home, and that you will never lose your place in our hearts.” Slowly, she straightened up. He still kneeled, gaping, unmoving. “I wish you luck and power, Sailor Star Healer. You are most honorably dismissed.”

Some thousand heartbeats later, a shooting star flared across the night sky. And beneath another night sky, someone saw it and made a wish.

END OF PART I