Setsuna knelt on the cold stone floor in her cousin's foyer. The black stone was dark and dull, matching the bleakness of her deep garnet eyes. She was only twelve years old, but her eyes seemed ageless. Alone in the empty, echoing room, she got to her feet as the door began creaking open ominously. Rapidly, she slipped the delicate figurine into her pocket and pulled the drawstrings to close the satchel she had been rifling through. It was her only piece of baggage, and it contained all that she had saved from her old home, the remnants of a life that was gone forever, snatched from her grasp. Silently, she followed the stiff summons of the butler while the slim fingers of her left hand ran over the smooth, worn surface of the icon in her pocket. It had been with her for so long that her fingers had rubbed its surface to a polished smoothness.
She followed the steward down another dark hallway; when she saw the light streaming gaily through the crack in the doorway ahead, she felt apprehensive instead of comforted. Perhaps it was just the time of day–or rather night–that made the house seem so oppressive and gloomy. As they approached the ominous-looking door, Setsuna began to hold her breath. Despite her anxiety, she promised herself that no matter what, she would always adhere to what her parents had taught her: when others fell, she would stand strong and support them. She would be the one to rectify things. She would not be broken, and her pride and her spirit must always be present in her bearing. Hearing their words in her mind, in the exact tone they had been said, pierced her to the heart, but her posture straightened instantly.
She stepped into the room with more confidence, and she was immediately taken into the firm embrace of a woman to whom she bore slight resemblance. Setsuna was shocked by her warm smile and the compassion radiating forth from the elegantly-featured woman, and she stood stiff and immobile in the hug.
Her cousin drew back a minute later, and Setsuna was able to take a better look at the dark hair holding glints of olive green, just like her own. However, Nichirin had empathetic, deep brown eyes instead of the wine-dark garnet Setsuna possessed.
"It's so good to see you again, Setsuna," she greeted warmly. "The news about your parents–was devastating, to say the least. But you must not want to talk of it."
Surprised that her cousin could be so understanding when no one else seemed to be able to grasp the concept that she didn't want to talk about her parents to anyone, that she didn't need to discuss the ruin and destruction with anyone. It had been bad enough witnessing the carnage. She nodded mutely, gratified, and the standoffish air about her eased slightly.
Nichirin noticed the change and smiled again. "I'm sure you're tired, so perhaps we could talk more tomorrow and get to know each other? A room has been prepared for you already, so maybe we should head up now."
In a small voice, Setsuna said, "I'm sorry to inconvenience you and your family."
"Nonsense! Setsuna, we're family!" she exclaimed. "You aren't inconveniencing us at all. Don't say another word about it," she ordered firmly. "As you've seen, we have more than enough space in this big, drafty place. I've been trying to think of a way to warm it up for years; almost everyone freezes in the winter. I'm sure Kyuukai–my eldest daughter, she's around your age–would be glad to show you around tomorrow so you don't get lost. I know things look so gloomy at night, but the place will be more cheerful tomorrow when the sunlight pours in." Placing her arm around the young girl's shoulders, Nichirin steered her toward the doorway gently.
As they walked down the length of the hall that had seemed like a looming tunnel before, Setsuna found that dainty, tasteful furniture and the soft carpet beneath her feet already made it seem less somber. She slid her right hand along the smooth, polished wood of the stair railing, and as she did so, a faint memory of being introduced to the woman beside her surfaced. Back then, she had been a very small child–perhaps six or seven years ago; Nichirin had already been a young lady, the pride of her family. She had just been engaged, but Setsuna could not remember his features, only the pretty, smiling face of her cousin. Instead of being tediously condescending to the little girl she had been, Nichirin had spent a few minutes chatting seriously with her, and it had been no artificial act on her part. Setsuna allowed herself to relax slightly. She still wasn't ready to accept Nichirin, who was still a stranger to her, but she decided to be more agreeable. She sensed a genuine kindness, an inherent goodness in the woman beside her, and she trusted her instincts. About her daughter, Kyuukai, Setsuna didn't know–they had never met. If Kyuukai turned out to be spoiled brat (although it seemed unlikely, considering her mother's disposition, it was still possible), she doubted she would enjoy being shown around by someone who had been forced into being polite to the guest. And Setsuna felt that she would always be a guest wherever she went from now on, because she had no home left to go to.
The next morning, Setsuna awoke feeling contented and at peace, and she got up immediately to look out the window, through which sunshine streamed in to pool on the floor and drape over everything else in the room. She smiled cheerfully but wondered exactly what she was supposed to do. She had no clothes except the ones in which she had arrived in, and they were filthy. Nichirin had given her a spare nightgown of he daughter's to wear and declared the ragged clothes Setsuna had been wearing in dire need of a wash–and she had said that even after a good washing, she wasn't sure if all the dirt could come out. Before Setsuna could puzzle over the problem to long, unwilling to venture beyond the safe, bright room, an enthusiastic knock sounded on the door. She walked over to the door and opened it slowly, peering out.
Her visitor bounced in buoyantly, smiling widely without hesitation.
Setsuna stared at her for a few minutes, not comprehending how anyone could have so much energy–or so much vivacious.
"Ohayo!" she said sunnily.
"Ohayo," Setsuna replied, with less elation but hesitant friendliness.
"I'm Kyuukai–Kyuu-chan." Now she could see certain resemblances between mother and daughter–and between herself and Kyuukai. Her raven hair was glossy black, without tinges of green, and her eyes were light brown. They shared some similar facial angles, especially the high cheekbones and delicately arched eyebrows. "Hajimemashite!"
"Hajimemashite." Before Setsuna had even finished the word, Kyuukai was tugging her out the door in the direction of the stairs. "Where are we going?" she asked, laughing despite herself.
"To eat breakfast, of course! And then I'll show you everything–unless, of course, you'd rather not," she said anxiously.
Piercing garnet met guileless chocolate for a moment, and Setsuna found herself unable to say no to this girl, who emanated happiness and sincerity. The walls of defense she had built around her heart began to be broken down in the gentlest invasion possible, and she just shook her head and followed her lead.
Over time, Setsuna grew accustomed to living with her cousin's family. There were two younger children–twins, a boy and a girl–who were as sunny-natured and accepting of her as their older sister was. Their father was a quiet man with a kind smile. He worked most of the day, then came home to spend time with his wife and children, the latter of which he counted Setsuna among. She respected and liked him, but she adored her cousin. The children were affectionate, loving, and playful, and chaos followed them wherever they went, whenever they were allowed out of the nursery. She felt warmly towards them and often stopped in to indulge them in a game or story, but it was Nichirin and Kyuukai who made the greatest effect on her. They never stopped trying to make Setsuna happier or more at ease, and she loved them dearly. Eventually, she did talk about her parents with her cousin, and bitter grief slowly became sorrowful regret. She began to remember happy memories with a smile, and after she had finally let the tears go, she cried no more for her loss.
Kyuukai became the sister she had never had, almost. There were very perceptible differences in their temperaments, but they got along well. Setsuna was confidant in all matters, as well as the restraining hand on the rein when certain mischievous, troublesome notions got into Kyuukai's mind. Kyuukai (who had quickly succeeding in convincing her to call her "Kyuu-chan"), quite frankly, made life interesting. At lessons, she was bright, cheerful, and willing to learn what her tutors wanted her to learn, but she had little dedication to topics she wasn't interested in. This was probably the main difference between the two: what Setsuna set out to do, she followed through all the way. She might not like all her subjects, but she would learn them if it killed her. It wasn't that Kyuu was lazy or less determined; she just didn't see the point in learning things she would never need to know. But Setsuna...Setsuna wanted to know anyway, and she was mind-hungry.
On the other hand, the two girls had several similarities. One of those was stubbornness. They could match each other in bullheadedness when they had their hearts set on it, which led to quite a few heated arguments. Despite the occasional disagreements, however, Setsuna was always level-headed enough to admit when she was wrong after awhile and wise enough to know that if she let it continue too long, life would be the worse for it. As for Kyuukai, she could never stay mad at anyone for long, particularly Setsuna. And so, the girl who had the mark of Pluto on her soul and the troublesome hand of fate in her destiny, lived contentedly and peacefully for the time being.
The Festival of the New Year arrived soon, a few months after Setsuna's arrival in her cousin's household, and she and Kyuukai were given leave to explore the long, wide lane, crowded with fantastically-decorated booths and carts. Nichirin, her husband, and the twins set a more systematic, sedate pace, while the two girls skipped ahead to whatever stall caught their fancy. They were wearing new ceremonial kimonos, as was the custom.
Kyuukai scampered over to a small pool full of fish and pointed at them enthusiastically. "Suna-chan, aren't they cute? They look so funny!"
She looked down at the fish, a massing mixture of black and gold. They had bubble-like puffs enclosing their eyes, and she wondered how they could see. They did look cute, but she felt sorry for them, swimming around and being forever scooped out and transferred to new homes. The fish sold at such revelries never lived long, and she said as much.
"Ne, Suna-chan, you have to look past death sometimes! Otherwise, how will you ever be happy?" Without waiting for an answer, the dark-haired girl darted off through the crowd, laughing and gesturing for her friend to follow.
Winding her way carefully through the throng, Setsuna was still jostled into another woman. Quickly, she exclaimed, "Gomen nasai!"
The woman, who had a kerchief wrapped around her head, smiled beatifically at her. "It's no fault of yours, child. A happy new moon to you, Setsuna."
She disappeared before Setsuna realized that she had called her by name. When she turned around, she was gone, and Setsuna was left with the memory of an impossibly beautiful woman. A few wisps of silvery-lavender hair had escaped the encompassing scarf, however, and remembrance of those luminous, light amethyst eyes that had held her gaze easily remained in her mind. Shaking her head in confusion, Setsuna crossed the street to meet up with Kyuukai, who was waiting impatiently. As they went on to the next stall, decorated with large, gauzy butterflies made of silk and satin, she pushed the incident out of her mind–surely she had imagined that the angelic woman had known her name; she had probably misheard. At any rate, she had never seen her before, so she was probably an off-planetary visitor. Most likely, Setsuna would never see her again...
"No! She cannot possibly be who you say she is!!"
Kyuukai sent a puzzled frown in Setsuna's direction as they heard her mother's irate voice from the all the way from the sitting room in the antechamber. Exchanging glances, they decided–silently–to eavesdrop. The next thing they heard, as they crept into place right outside the closed doors, was an unfamiliar, male voice.
"Nichirin-san, I know this must be a shock for you, but it is imperative that we speak with Setsuna," the crisp voice said. Both girls started when Setsuna was mentioned.
Before anything else was said, the door swung open, and they looked guiltily up at the woman with the silvery-lavender hair Setsuna had seen earlier. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the crown and elaborate dress she was wearing.
Nichirin sat on the sofa looking exhausted and upset, and she did not smile at her cousin and her daughter as the queen ushered them in. "Kyuu-chan...would you leave us alone for a few minutes, please?" When Setsuna turned to follow her, the white-haired man standing beside the queen dropped a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she halted.
"We'd like you to stay, Setsuna." He closed the door after Kyuukai and gestured her to a seat.
"It's out of the question! She isn't going. She's been through enough, and to take her away from us now would hurt her," her cousin maintained adamantly.
Setsuna sat, staring in surprise. She had no idea what they were talking about, but somehow, she was included in the confusing mix of words. It was rare that her cousin lost control of herself this way; she didn't seem awed that the Queen of the Moon was standing in her sitting room, and she hadn't bothered to introduce them.
"Setsuna, my name is Artemis. I'm one of the queen's advisors. And this is her majesty Serenity-sama."
She nodded and repeated the address dazedly.
The queen's face was impassive as her brilliant, crystal-clear eyes focused upon Setsuna's face as she spoke to Nichirin. "Nichirin-san, I'm happy to see that your affection for your cousin is so strong, but I'm afraid that certain matters should be made clear to Setsuna. After all, the choice is hers entirely, and however she decides, you must abide by her wishes."
"She's too young for this! None of them have ever been recruited at such a young age before!"
Setsuna wondered briefly who "none of them" were, and she was troubled by the high note of fear in her usually-composed cousin's voice.
"She will be a senshi," Artemis said simply.
And in that moment, as realization dawned on Setsuna, the darkness lightened, and some light...became darkness.
A senshi. Setsuna's mind continued to whir in confused disbelief. She couldn't quite cope with the knowledge yet, couldn't understand if they were mistaken. But something about the word, just that one simple word, struck a chord deep within her. It felt right, and it felt familiar. Tingles raced through her body, and she pulled the covers tighter around her.
Artemis and the queen–especially the queen–had to be right. They couldn't be wrong about something as important as this. To escape from the tangled knot of mixed feelings heavy in her mind, Setsuna focused her thoughts on the queen. She was beautiful, dazzlingly, ethereally beautiful. There was an other-worldly quality to her features, and her smile made Setsuna feel as though she was bathed in an incandescent light. She was awed by the mere image of the queen, and she understood how so many people could follow her. Serenity's face, her words, and her voice were enough to motivate even the most reluctant believers. She could inspire faith, love, and trust at will, with her powerful words and the palpable aura of command she wore like a cloak. Setsuna had been won over already, and it did not disturb her. The senshi had always served the interests of the Queen of the Moon and the Kingdom of Light...protectors of good, battling against evil to ensure that justice was carried out. They fought for love... Surely it was only natural that Queen Serenity would embody all those things.
A senshi. If Setsuna accepted the task set before her, she would have four years of training ahead of her: one year of building up her body's physical strength, the next of hand-to-hand combat, the third of weapons usage, and the fourth...in the fourth year, before they began leaving on their individual quests, their skills would have to be perfected. She had power, Artemis had told her, power that would not be unlocked until the time was right. She frowned: according to them, if she agreed to the terms and made it through those four years or so of training and then a year of being out in the world, on her own, she would undergo the final test. What it embodied, she did not know, but she had heard that it had proved fatal before. New candidates had had to be found in the past when their would-be predecessors had not survived. If Setsuna survived, she would be proclaimed the senshi of Pluto, whose position was to be Timekeeper.
Setsuna's fingers twisted to grasp the edges of the coverlet tightly. She was Plutonian. She had lived on Pluto all her life, and the planet's inhabitants had old, old legends about Gates of the Time and the mystery in which it was enshrouded. And yet...Setsuna was not afraid. She felt that she understood what she was going to face. She felt that going to the Moon was right for her, in a sense. She was comfortable with her life in her cousin's house, but she had never felt completely at ease. She had felt that there was no direction to her life, no meaningful purpose. If she could achieve the status of being a senshi, that purpose would be higher than she had ever dreamed.
But she was still a few steps away from total acceptance. She would be leaving Pluto behind, and the Moon would become her new home. She would have to face seven girls who would be complete strangers to her, and they would be the only friends she would have in life. Nichirin's refusal to let her go lingered in her mind. Setsuna wondered why: surely it was an honor be a senshi. Surely Nichi should have been happy for her. But her cousin had claimed that she was not ready, that she was too young. That it was too heavy a burden to be placed on anybody. In the end, Setsuna made her decision when she remembered the sight of her parents' eyes, open and staring blindly at the smoke-filled sky in death–evil was supposed to have been banished from the world centuries before, but its dark tendrils were creeping back into the edges of the Solar System, and it had destroyed her first life. This ambition would claim her from the second life she had found...for all time.
