The Changes at Night

I'm...

She still had no end for that sentence (no end to her sentence) spoken in a moment of confusion.  Confronted by an unknown challenger in the appearance of a little girl, she had been caught in a moment of receptivity anyway.  The moment her sword arm had dropped instead of attacking - no, the moment she had dropped it - she had known something was definitely wrong with her.  (Why was she thinking this way?)

"When Sailormoon became the princess, you were showered in the light of the ginzuishou," the strange little-girl warrior had told her.  A possible answer to the unspoken question; a working hypothesis.  "Since then, the spell on you has gotten weaker.  I'm sure you'll come back to us."

Was it something she already knew?  She knew she had been different, once.  Oh, I remember.  (Headaches. Memories she didn't want.)  I may be reborn, but I have no intention of becoming anyone's subordinate, she'd told her new associates in spite of it; 'of' the Dark Kingdom didn't mean 'owned by' - not even for Kunzite, who'd brought her there.  Especially not for Kunzite, who'd brought her there; he tried to rule her, threw her technically-subordinate status at her so constantly, humiliated her.  Her eyes narrowed.

Still, these memories... she didn't want to look at them, didn't want to return to what she'd been: weak, unimportant, overlooked, second-best at best.  No, it wasn't those.  It was... when the saw those girls who had once been her friends (once) smiling.  There.  Loving her.  And she had...been among them.  Loved them?  Fought alongside them.  Celebrated with them.  Then, wasn't there a reason to, a cause?  Something she was forgetting after all, something important?

I'm...

It was a long time before she left the rooftop where she'd been looking out over the city, to return to the Dark Kingdom.  It was night by then; the sun had been setting even while she'd been confronting that unknown child-warrior. No, night was already in full sway by now.  She'd lost track of time; it must be at least one in the morning.

Staring at the sky still, she saw the moon.  Reflected in the lake before her, its image wavered but-  Again!  Those smiling faces, one after another, her so-much-more-peaceful state, calmly waiting for them because she was so sure that even though they all had their separate concerns, they'd come together again.  And now she was the furthest away.  It hurt.  (What hurt?  Pain. Headaches. Memories.)  Her breaths came faster, almost a whimper - but she could almost see it, the piece she was missing... she was-

Her head jerked upward as a shadow fell acoss her view, at the same moment the water was hit by...something.  She heard Kunzite's voice, "Don't look."  He'd done it!  She glared, but didn't dare turn around; he'd notice that suddenly she was fidgeting with her hands, not even sure why she was suddenly so nervous.  She couldn't even think of a retort.  His footsteps approached; he was standing so close now, right behind her, his shadow on the water lengthening.

"You're already of the darkness," the Dark Kingdom general reminded her.  For a moment, he was right again (standing so close, always behind her, always right) and she braced herself. It was too late anyway, even if she'd wanted to return, wasn't it?  Then anger overtook her again - no, the desire to know overtook her again, a wish to find herself, find these pieces of memories, pieces of her former self, that were missing.  She didn't feel right, and she didn't like that.

It would be easy, if she was careful.  The ginzuishou, that's what that little girl had said affected her before.  So another encounter with it might have that same affect.  If no one was there to interfere this time, that power might even be enough to make the results permanent.  She could easily coerce Usagi into meeting her alone, warn Kunzite away, make it just between them.  Tolerate no interference.  Restore what she'd lost.  It wasn't long before she'd reached Usagi on the same communicator she'd once used as a sailor senshi.

I'm...

'Mercury, I'm sure you'll come back to us.'