The characters contained within this story are owned by Takahashi 
Rumiko or whomever wrote Sailor Moon. No infringement of copyright is 
intended. This work to be distributed for free, unchanged, crediting 
the current author.

This is a crossover between Ranma 1/2 and Sailor Moon. To make the two 
stories fit together the way I wanted, I needed to shuffle the dates at 
which a few things occur within the main timeline of Sailor Moon. I bow 
my head in shame: please forgive. We also have guest appearances by 
Slayers and 3x3 Eyes.

Die hard fans of Ranma may also notice a very subtle change to it's 
story timeline...

This story is dedicated to the letters A, and K and the number 8.


Visit my website at
http://www.fl.net.au/~fire
                          _________________
                         /                 \
                         | Destiny's Child |
                         \_________________/



---------------------------------
Here's Looking A You, Kid
---------------------------------

Little Hotaru walked along, struggling under the weight of a pack of 
school books, her only friend a wooden staff, and it didn't really 
contribute much to conversations. It was not really a struggle, it was 
more the weight of the words which surrounded her which were hardest to 
bear. Japan is a society which encourages uniformity. People should fit 
into society, not bend society to fit them. If you can fit, then it is 
the duty of your peers to help you fit. And no-one can be crueller than 
small children.

Ranma had always liked making friends, and was fairly adapt at talking 
to kids that looked like her age. When a new boy had turned up at 
school today, she wandered over to try and meet him at lunch. Perhaps 
if he had not seen her heal anyone, they could become friends before he 
decided she was 'strange'.

She had barely taken three steps from the tree where she usually ate 
lunch - alone - when everyone noticed. In no time flat, everyone was 
talking to the new boy about her, pointing, laughing and telling lies. 
Before she had crossed the playground, the new boy was taunting her 
too.

Now that school was over, she could rally against the injustice of it 
all. All right, at four hundred she was just a little bit older than 
any of the kids, but they did not know that. Quite simply there was no-
one in her age group to talk to, and even grown-ups seemed so young 
some times. The only person who came close to that was Ryoga, the 
demon. He was a baby by their standards, a mere three hundred or so, 
but demons specialised in anger and fighting, not conversation. Hotaru 
had found that out when she bumped into Ryoga yesterday. He was still 
mad at her, and they destroyed another city block before Ryoga got lost 
in the dust.

All she wanted was to be normal and accepted by everyone. There were 
lots of nice people in Japan, she had met so many herself. The problem 
was getting people to see past the facade which was presented, and to 
know the real person inside. She could tell that the only person she 
had met so far that seemed smart and caring enough, did not really 
care. It must have happened two or three times now: he would be having 
a conversation with Rei-san, and for no reason she would suddenly cut 
him off and the chase him away. 

Dropping to the grass in a park, Ranma stared into the waters of a 
pond. In four hundred years he had made his share of enemies for things 
he had done, or things people thought he had done. In the past, it had 
always been a directed hate like Ryoga's. People hated him for a 
reason. He had even been in enough cities to know the indifference 
which crowding bred. 

It was this general animosity that he hated. No-one liked him, and it 
was beginning to get to him. Takuhi was nice, be he was just a pet. Her 
face twitched slightly as she held back tears. She missed Ucchan and 
Kikyo. She missed Cologne and Brush. She missed Akane. She always 
missed Akane. 

Ranma could not understand Rei-san. When he had first met Akane, she 
had been more than happy to tell Ranma when he did something wrong, 
usually with that awful mallet of hers. Sometimes Rei-san was like 
that, sometimes she would yell and scream and show her temper. Other 
times, just the three, she would go all cold and distant. She would not 
tolerate him around, and ushered him out as quickly as possible. 

Why?

Ranma was so engrossed in her thoughts she never even noticed when the 
hat blew past her. She just kept staring at nothing. When she heard a 
young girl's voice cry out, she finally looked around. Little girl: 
pink hair, sun-dress, quite cute, sixteen meters away, fallen, probably 
no broken bones, maybe minor scratches. Adults: tall, male, early 
twenties, forty-seven meters away, short, female, blonde... her again! 
Hat: matches sun-dress, blowing away in wind.

Hotaru sighed. What the hell, she'll end up hating me too, but she 
might be friends for a while. Getting to her feet, Hotaru took off 
after the escaping hat. After the first few steps she remembered that 
she was supposed to be weak and feeble, so she slowed down and started 
to breath heavily. After a few minutes of running she caught the hat 
and sat down on the grass, waving to the girl.

Eventually the little pink haired girl came up to her and smiled. 
Silently, Hotaru smiled and handed her the hat, keeping up the heavy 
breathing for effect.

"Thank you!" The little girl plopped down beside her. "My name's Chibi-
Usa!"

Hotaru bowed her head. "I'm Tomoe Hotaru. It's nice to meet you."

"What are you doing out here by yourself?"

Hotaru looked down at the ground again. Well, this is going to be a 
short friendship. "I... I don't have any friends, so I was just..."

"Oh, that's so sad! Are you new here?"

"No, people don't like me because I'm different."

"I don't mind if your different. Almost everyone I know is really 
different. I'll be your friend."

As she spoke, she seemed to almost bounce with energy. The big rabbit 
ears she had her hair done up in seemed to almost wave when she moved 
her head, and Hotaru could almost believe her. She seemed to nice, so 
naive, so innocent, almost the way that you would expect a princess in 
a fairy-tale to act.

Pointing to the scratch on her knee that Chibi-Usa had received running 
for her hat, Hotaru drew her attention. "Yeah? How many people do you 
know that could do this?"

Hotaru concentrated and her small hands covered Chibi-Usa's knee for a 
short while. Even as they watched, the scratch healed, and the skin 
repaired as though it had never been damaged. Even as she healed the 
girl, Hotaru cursed herself for a fool. Here was someone willing to 
listen, and she was doing her best to scare her away. All right, maybe 
not her best, but her best could involve levelling a large portion of 
the city. A touch excessive for indulging self pity.

She could not believe her ears when the little girl beside her cheered 
and clapped her hands. "That is so wonderful! I wish I could do that!"

Hotaru blushed. "No you don’t. Too many people think your strange, 
and..."

Chibi-Usa interrupted. She knew it was rude, but it was better to stop 
Hotaru-chan from getting all sad again. Changing the topic, the two 
talked and talked. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

They sat and talked for most of the afternoon, Mamoru and Usagi keeping 
their distance to allow their daughter to have a decent friend. While 
Chibi-Usa was their daughter, she had not been born yet. Sent back in 
time by her mother (Usagi) she was here to learn the proper way to be 
Sailor Moon, as she would some day inherit the powers and duties that 
went with the title. While they were (or will be) her parents, at this 
point they were also her friends. 

When you are brought up as a princess, and you are also the inheritor 
of a position responsible for the safety of the entire human race, it's 
difficult to make friends. When you are repeatedly sent into the 
distant past, and separated from your family (sort of) it can be a hard 
time. Although she had friends at school, Chibi-Usa normally found it 
difficult to become really attached to anyone. Someday, all these 
people would be dead, and since she came from a time when they were, 
she had a hard time seeing other kids as life long friends.

Chibi-Usa looked at her new friend and sighed. Although she was really 
quiet, and did not like to talk about herself, Chibi-Usa could see she 
was a nice person at heart. Looking off to one side, she could see her 
parents approaching. 'Hmm, I suppose I can't expect her to tell me 
everything, I'm hiding a few little details..."

Seeing where the pink bunny ears were pointing, Hotaru noticed the 
couple approaching arm in arm. 'Damn, it's that girl again. Who is she? 
Why do I think I've seen her before?' When Chibi-Usa waved and she saw 
the couple's eyes light up, she nudged her friend. "Who are they? Is 
she really a Queen?"

Hotaru started. 'Is she really a Queen?' Where did that come from? She 
doesn't look like a queen. As a matter of fact, she looks more like a 
school girl.

Chibi-Usa was surprised as well. Looking at her hands, she wondered how 
she could answer something like that without lying. She had no idea if 
Hotaru was serious, but you can't just lie to people for no reason. 
"No... Not at the moment, she's not."

As the pink haired girl dashed off to be picked up and carried by 
Mamoru, Hotaru was trying to fight strange feelings in her head. 
Memories dashed across her mind: of fun times with Akane, of meeting 
royalty, and of a girl with short black hair, who showed her how to 
love and how to be a real man, and of a kind and caring Queen.

Each step that brought Usagi closer made the memories dash across 
faster. When she was finally two meters away, she stopped and looked at 
the now standing Hotaru. When she smiled and held out her hand, it was 
the last cue she needed. Suddenly all the flashbacks ceased and she 
called out the one thing that was at the top of her mind. 

"The Queen is dead! Long live the Queen!"

Everyone stopped stunned as Hotaru dropped to one knee and bowed her 
head. "Your Majesty."

When they recovered from the shock, the trio looked down at the 
kneeling girl. Usagi turned to her daughter and creased her brow. All 
Small Lady could do was shrug her shoulders and smile cutely, as though 
saying: 'Don't look at me, Mum. She wasn't crazy until you got here.'

Getting no help from that front, she leaned down and touched the little 
girl on the back. "Are... Are you OK? You can get up now."

Hotaru stood and shook her head. What just happened? Why did she do 
that? She looked at Usagi and offered a shy smile while trying to check 
her out. 'Nothing special about her really, she seems to have a little 
magic, but that's it. She's no warrior or sorceress, and she definitely 
hasn’t had any spiritual training... I don't get it. Two minutes ago I 
felt this incredible need to speak to her, and now it's gone. I just 
don't understand.'

When the girl started waving a hand in front of her face, Hotaru 
realised she was beginning to zone out. Smiling again she took the 
girl's hand, grabbed her staff and led them off, immediately changing 
the subject. Mamoru and Chibi-Usa looked at each other and shrugged. 
They had met a lot of strange people recently, and if the worst the 
girl did was claim Usagi was royalty, they had nothing to worry about.

Begging off joining them for dinner, Hotaru eventually went home after 
a bit more of a walk in the park. As much as she hated her 'father's' 
medicine, she was willing to get home every day to take it if it meant 
that she would one day be cured of her curse.

That night, she dreamed again.

The lightning flashed, and the thunder roared... and the people calling 
out his name. Or what was now his name. But he walked the halls in 
silence, for the only person who mattered was with him, and she walked 
by his side. 

Taking his hand she calmed the rage and confusion that burned in him. 
'How does she do that?' He wondered. Just the lightest touch of her 
hand and he knew all was right in the world. Outside the storm raged, 
and buffeted against the walls of the building. Inside, it was just as 
chaotic, people everywhere, watching them. Always watching.

His wife pushed open the great doors and walked inside. In those very 
instant that her hand left his, he felt the confusion return. The 
anger, the hatred, the pain and suffering. He was snarling at a guest 
when she took his hand and led him to the great table. 

The mood swings were getting worse, and he knew it. One minute he could 
be calm and pleasant, the next he would be deadly. It almost seemed as 
if his soul needed the pain and anger, and when he was with his wife, 
all those moments of happiness would rebound when she left. Ignoring 
the guests in the room, he took his wife in his arms and whispered he 
loved her. 

She held him too, and told him she loved him too.  Around them, he 
could her warriors muttering. "Not fitting." "Improper." "He's wrong 
for her." "Think where it will lead." Any other day he would have 
leaped at them, as futile as it may have been. He was a fighter, but 
there was no way he could beat their magic, his talents lay elsewhere. 

Lifting his face from where it rested in the sweet black hair, he 
looked at the lady sitting at the table smiling at them. Most people 
would have called her beautiful, stunning, definitely regal. However, 
beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and his eyes could behold the 
beauty of only one person. Everyone else were merely shadows, cardboard 
cut-outs on the stage of the world. Then again, she was the only one he 
knew of that approved of their marriage, so perhaps she was beautiful 
in her own way.

The lady spoke. "Everyone, could you leave us. I need to speak with him 
alone."

No-one liked that idea, but they complied. His wife tried to, but he 
held onto her hand like a drowning man. 'No, don’t leave me. I can't 
stand being without you.' But gently, insistently, she loosened his 
grip. Giving him one of her gentle smiles, she kissed his cheek and 
slipped from the room.

By the time she left the room, tears were running down his face, the 
confusion, the anger and the pain were back. Looking at the woman 
standing there - golden hair and white robes, a gleaming crystal tipped 
sceptre - he knew she was his only hope. 

"Please... Your Majesty."


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