Chapter Text
The Time We Have Together
by Sailor Barium Raccoon
Chapter 1
The white plastic object suddenly felt heavy in Usagi’s trembling hand, as if it were made of lead. She pressed her other hand against the cool porcelain rim of the sink; the tiles beneath her feet seemed to be tilting. The two pink lines on the test strip blurred before her eyes—she blinked once, twice, but they remained. There. Unmistakable.
Usagi’s heart was racing. This couldn’t be happening. Not yet. That was far too early... She braced herself with both hands on the sink. The cold rim pressed against her lower abdomen, as if to remind her of what was growing there. She lifted her head and saw her own pale face in the mirror. Her pupils were tiny with shock, her lips slightly parted, but she couldn’t find the words.
The last few weeks had felt like a movie—everything was a little too slow and, at the same time, way too fast. At first, Usagi had blamed the changes on stress: wedding planning, her studies, Mamoru’s absence. But then there was that leaden fatigue that even her legendary afternoon naps in the university library could no longer shake off. Last week she’d even fallen asleep while Ami was trying to explain the most important exam questions to her—right on top of her actually well-organized notes.
And then there was the hunger. That gnawing, never-ending hole in her stomach that made even her notorious teenage appetite look like harmless snacking. Yesterday she’d polished off three servings of Makoto’s potato salad, along with two bags of chips and a whole bowl of strawberries—and still gone to bed with a growling stomach. That wasn’t normal. Not even for her.
But what was most unsettling were the sudden chest pains she’d had the other day, which—despite her exhaustion—had kept her from falling asleep for hours. That’s when the suspicion had struck her. This wasn’t like the usual symptoms before her period, which, by the way, was also late. And then she’d snatched Mamoru’s pillow, inhaled his familiar scent, and knew: This wasn’t an ordinary month.
Usagi’s hand clenched around the pregnancy test as her thoughts swirled. Joy? Yes, certainly. Mamoru would be overjoyed. She could already imagine how his serious face would light up with joy, how he would lift her up and spin her around just like he had six months ago, when they’d finally moved in together. But that joy felt so distant now, shrouded in a sticky layer of fear. She pressed her hand against her still-flat stomach and wondered what was actually growing there. A miracle? Or a misfortune in the form of a tiny human?
Normal persons would be happy at a moment like this. Sure, they’d also be unsettled by the responsibility a baby would bring—yes. Some might even despair because it just didn’t fit into their current life situation at all. But Usagi wasn’t a normal person.
That wasn’t what scared her. It was her knowledge of the future. Not the uncertain future of every expectant mother—but her very specific, already known future. In which she would have a child—that little pink-haired brat who had visited her several times in the past through time travel and who’d gotten on her last nerve every single time—Chibiusa.
But Chibiusa lived in the 30th century. This child here would be born in the year 2000—IF it was born at all. Chibiusa had no siblings; Usagi knew that for a fact. Back when Chibi Chibi had shown up and they’d all been wondering who this girl could possibly be, Setsuna had confirmed it. Neo Queen Serenity had only one child. And as the Guardian of Space and Time, she had to know better than anyone else.
Usagi sank to the bathroom floor, her back slowly sliding down the tiles until she was sitting there, curled up with her knees drawn up. The pregnancy test clattered softly as it fell onto the tiles. She had to call Mamoru. But what was she supposed to tell him? “Congratulations, we’re going to be parents—but our child might not even survive?” Her fingers trembled as she fumbled for her cell phone, but then she let it drop again. Not now. Not until she had clarity herself.
The next few hours felt strangely subdued, filled with fake smiles and mechanical movements. Usagi went to college, sat through lectures where she didn’t understand a word, and shoveled food into her mouth without tasting it. Her thoughts revolved around the two pink lines that had suddenly turned her life upside down. Every step felt as if she were carrying a huge weight inside her—not just that tiny life, but the entire burden of the future.
The wind swept through the old trees of Hikawa Shrine, scattering autumn leaves across the wooden planks in front of Rei’s room, where the five women sat—just as they had back when they still wore school uniforms. Usagi held her teacup with both hands. The warmth didn’t reach her fingers.
“So?” Rei’s voice cut through the silence. She leaned forward, her violet eyes beneath her arched brows boring into Usagi’s. “When is Mamoru coming back?” A harmless opening, but Usagi sensed the question behind it—what the hell is going on with you?
“In two weeks,” Usagi murmured. Her voice was so soft that the others could barely hear her. The four women exchanged a glance—that special, wordless look that only years of deep friendship could bring. Makoto was the first to react. She leaned forward, her hands clasping Usagi’s. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she said gently but firmly.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Usagi forced a smile that was as crooked as a banana. “I just… didn’t sleep well. Mamoru’s gone, and the bed is so big, and…” The lie stuck in her throat like a lump.
“Ooooh, I know what’s going on!” Minako puffed out her chest and clapped her hands. Her eyes twinkled conspiratorially. “It’s obvious—our little scaredy-cat has suddenly gotten cold feet about her own wedding!” She winked at Usagi and nudged her in the ribs with her elbow. "Come on, admit it! Who’s afraid of the big bad wedding altar~?”
“Yeah… probably,” Usagi sighed, forcing another smile onto her lips as she clutched her teacup so tightly it creaked. But her big blue eyes, which were usually so easy to read, remained strangely fixed, almost as if frozen. Minako paused. This wasn’t the Usagi she knew. Normally, she would have protested loudly against this accusation by now or blushed with embarrassment.
“Really, Usagi-chan,” Ami urged in her gentle but firm voice. Her blue eyes behind her large glasses (which she’d been wearing constantly for several years) were full of concern. “You don’t look well. Do you have a fever?” She raised her hand to touch Usagi’s forehead, but Usagi reflexively pulled away.
“No, no,” Usagi muttered, turning toward the window to suddenly watch the falling leaves with particular interest. Her cheeks were burning, even though she felt cold. “It’s just… that stupid cold virus is going around, you know?”
“A cold?” Rei’s voice cut sharply through the room. Her eyebrows furrowed as she scrutinized Usagi with a piercing gaze. “I don’t see a cold, but I do see…” She hesitated for a moment, her eyelids twitching slightly as she read Usagi’s aura. “Fear. It’s stuck to you like gum under the sole of your shoe.” The priestess leaned back and crossed her arms. “And fear isn’t a symptom of a cold.”
Usagi flinched as if electrocuted when Makoto’s warm hand touched her shoulder. She spun around, and her teacup tilted dangerously; a few drops of tea spilled over the rim, leaving dark stains on the pristine tatami mats.
“Honestly, Usagi, what’s going on?” Makoto asked. Her voice was soft but firm, like a warm blanket draped over Usagi’s shoulders. The other three women held their breath—even Rei, who was usually so impatient, waited with her jaw clenched. The cup in Usagi’s hands was shaking so badly that the tea rippled slightly.
Usagi reached for the plate of cookies that Rei always set out for their tea parties. She grabbed three at once and hastily stuffed them into her mouth, hoping that chewing would buy her some time. Crumbs trickled down her sweater as she let out an unintelligible “Mmpf!” with her mouth full.
“Well, you sure don’t seem to be sick,” Minako interjected, eyeing Usagi with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been eating more lately than you did back in middle school.” Her index finger pointed at the crumbs on Usagi’s sweater.
The cookies suddenly tasted like cardboard, but Usagi kept chewing, hoping the motion would hold back the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. A few crumbs stuck to her lower lip, but she couldn’t bring herself to wipe them away. Her hands were shaking too much.
Ami leaned forward, her eyebrows arching with concern above her glasses. “Did something bad happen?” Her voice was a gentle contrast to Rei’s direct manner. “Did you two have a fight? You and Mamoru?”
“No, no… nothing happened.” Usagi’s voice broke as she wiped the last cookie crumbs from her lips. Her fingers were still trembling, and she dug her nails into her palms to make them stop. “It’s just… I…” The words got stuck in her throat. “Oh, never mind.”
“It’s your exam! So you messed it up after all? You said it went well!” Minako jumped to her feet, her blonde locks fluttering around her. Her eyes flashed with dramatic concern—Minako could turn even a smudged lipstick into a tragedy.
“No, that did go well...” Usagi replied with a faint smile. Her fingers fiddled with a loose thread on her sweater.
“Ha! I still have a hard time imagining that you’re actually getting good grades now!” Minako’s laughter suddenly sounded forced as she heard her own playful words. Then she suddenly became serious.
“But what is going on, then? Something with your parents?”
“No, they’re fine, too...” Usagi said quietly. Her hand slid from the hem of her sweater to her flat stomach and remained there as if magnetically drawn. The movement was so fleeting that only Ami noticed it; her eyes behind her glasses immediately sharpened.
She placed her hand on Usagi’s shoulder. “You can tell us, Usagi. No matter what it is. We’re your friends, after all.” Her hand was warm and the pressure was firm but not overwhelming—a lifeline amid the storm raging in Usagi’s head.
Usagi swallowed hard and struggled to find the right words. She nervously reached for her teacup and fiddled with it as the silence between them grew and grew. The sound of the wind in the trees suddenly seemed much too loud. After a while that felt like an eternity, she hesitantly blurted out, “I… I’m pregnant.”
The four women froze. For a moment, it was so quiet that Usagi could hear her own heart pounding. Then chaos broke out.
“Whaaaat?!? Seriously?” Minako jumped to her feet, her hair flying wildly around her like a startled chicken. Her eyes were as big as tennis balls, and her arms flailed wildly in the air as if she were about to shake Usagi. “Oh my God! Congratulations!!” She spun around, accidentally knocking over Ami’s teacup, which clattered to the tatami floor.
“That’s amazing!” “Are you absolutely sure?” “How long have you known?!” “Have you told Mamoru yet?”
Her friends’ voices merged into an impenetrable jumble—Minako’s shrill cries of joy, Rei’s sharp questions, Makoto’s warm concern, and Ami’s quiet, logical inquiries. It was as if an entire orchestra were playing different songs all at once. Usagi’s fingers dug into her bangs, tugging gently at them as if the pain could muffle the voices out there. But they only grew louder, more urgent, closer.
A tear fell onto Usagi’s knee—a single, perfect circle on the dark fabric of her jeans. Then a second. A third. She couldn’t stop anymore. Her shoulders shook under the weight of a sob that tore through her entire body like an earthquake. The tears burned hot on her cheeks.
Minako’s hands froze mid-air, and her eyes widened even more when she saw the tears on Usagi’s cheeks. The smile faded from her lips. The other three women also froze as if turned to stone—even Rei, who was usually so unshakable, suddenly looked worried.
“But what… what’s wrong? That’s great, isn’t it…?” Minako’s voice suddenly sounded soft and uncertain, quite different from her usual energetic tone. Her blonde hair now fell across her face like a curtain.
Makoto’s arm wrapped heavily and warmly around Usagi’s shoulders like a protective shield. “That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” she whispered, as her strong fingers gently stroked Usagi’s upper arm. The touch was so familiar—the same hand that had protected her in so many battles years ago. Now she was trying to protect her in a very different kind of battle.
Ami asked, “Is it because of college? I’m sure your mom can help you out.” Her voice sounded as if she were solving a math equation, but her fingers gripped her cup too tightly. Her glasses sparkled in the afternoon light as she tilted her head.
Usagi’s sobs turned into a violent storm that shook her entire body. She clung to Makoto’s sweater. “No… don’t you understand…,” she sobbed, shaking her head. Her tears splashed onto the tatami mats like raindrops.
Rei’s face took on an expression of confused concern. “What don’t we understand?” Her voice cut through the room more sharply than usual. The wrinkles between her brows deepened as she saw Usagi’s hunched posture.
“Setsuna… Setsuna said back then…” Usagi was shaken by violent sobs, and she clung even tighter to Makoto’s sweater. “…that I’d only have one child.”
The silence that followed Usagi’s words was so thick that even the wind in the trees died down for a moment. Her friends stared at her—even Ami, with her sharp mind, didn’t seem to grasp the meaning right away. Then a shock rippled through the group like an electric charge.
Rei’s teacup fell with a dull thud onto the tatami floor; the tea flowed across the light-colored mats like blood from a wound. Her eyes were two violet flames that pierced right through Usagi. “What do you mean—only one child?” Her voice was sharper than a katana, but beneath it vibrated something that sounded like fear.
“Well, that can’t possibly be Chibiusa!”, Usagi blurted out, pointing at her stomach with a trembling index finger. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks like waterfalls. “So that means… that means…” The words stuck in her throat, choked off by another fit of sobbing.
Ami was the first to grasp the cruel truth. “You think the child… won’t survive?” she whispered, as if she herself were afraid to say the words.
The air seemed to freeze the moment Ami’s words were spoken. Rei jumped to her feet, her violet eyes blazing with rage—not at Usagi, but at the cruel logic they all now understood. “That’s impossible!” she screamed, her fists clenched. “That can’t be true. It must not be true!”
Makoto’s arms tightened around Usagi; her hands trembled slightly, but her voice was firm. “Rei is right. Setsuna must have been mistaken!”
Minako was the first to pull herself together. She grabbed Usagi’s hand, clutching it with a strength that almost hurt. “You have to see a doctor right away! Maybe everything’s fine after all!” There was a serious urgency in her voice, completely out of character for her. Her eyes glistened with tears. The others nodded vigorously.
“Exactly! And we have to talk to Setsuna!” Makoto gasped for air, and her hands pressed even tighter against Usagi’s shoulders.
Ami hesitated, then nervously pushed her glasses up her nose. “This is going to be difficult,” she murmured as her gaze swept over the group. “Ever since Hotaru moved back in with her father, she’s been back at the space-time gate. I don’t know how we’re supposed to reach her.” She gently put an arm around Usagi’s trembling shoulders. “Usagi,” she asked softly but firmly, “are you absolutely sure you’re pregnant?”
Rei walked over to her nightstand and handed Usagi a tissue. The paper rustled softly as Usagi took it with trembling fingers. She wiped away the snot running down her lip, a pitiful, wet sound in the sudden silence. “I took a test this morning,” she whispered, crumpling the tissue into a small, damp ball. “And the result was clear.”
“Well, they’re only 99.9% accurate… I’ve taken quite a few.” Minako’s voice cut through the tense silence like a pair of scissors. Four pairs of eyes darted toward her—Ami’s wide open behind her glasses, Rei’s narrowed in anger, Makoto’s moist with tears, and Usagi’s still red from crying. Minako just shrugged, as if she’d just commented on the weather, and stared back. “What?”
Ami pushed her glasses up with a determined gesture. Her voice was as firm as a surgeon’s before an operation. “Minako is actually right. Usagi, go see a gynecologist first thing tomorrow and get checked out!” A brief pause. Then she added more gently, “I can accompany you, if you want…”
Usagi nodded, trembling, and clutched the crumpled tissue.
“Don’t worry so much right now,” Rei said in a voice that sounded harsher than she’d intended. “I’m sure everything’s fine, and it was just a misunderstanding with Setsuna.” She poured herself some more tea but spilled half of it.
“But… Chibiusa never mentioned anything about siblings either…” Usagi sniffled. Tears fell uncontrollably onto her curled-up knees as her fingers helplessly twisted the crumpled handkerchief. “The whole time she was here… not a single word.”
Makoto’s hand pressed lightly against Usagi’s shoulder. “And… what if the baby is Chibiusa after all?” Her voice was gentle, but the question struck Usagi like a bolt of lightning.
She froze in the middle of crumpling the handkerchief, and it fell to the floor. “But… how?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Chibiusa’s from the thirtieth century, after all. And when she was here for the first time, she was… like five years old… How could I already be pregnant with her now?”
No one knew the answer to that. The air inside the shrine suddenly felt as heavy as lead, and even the wind outside seemed to have come to a standstill. Rei leaned forward, her violet eyes unusually gentle. She asked cautiously, “Have you told Mamoru yet?”
Usagi just shook her head, sniffling. Her tears splashed around like raindrops. “I… I couldn’t,” she whispered hoarsely. Her hand rested on her stomach, as if to protect that unborn life. “He’s only been in London for five days—for his training course. How am I supposed to tell him this over the phone? Hey, Mamo-chan, by the way…” The words stuck in her throat like a thick lump.
Makoto gently took Usagi’s hand. “You have to tell him.” Her voice was firm as oak, but beneath it lay a note of understanding. “Of course, it would be nicer in person than over the phone...” She hesitated for a moment. “…but this affects him just as much as it does you.” Those last words hit Usagi like a blow to the chest.
The others nodded. Usagi replied in a voice that was barely more than a whisper: “I’ll…try…”
Rei’s fingers were already flying over the keys of her cell phone before she had even finished speaking. “And I’m trying to reach Haruka or Michiru. They’re on tour again. But maybe they have some idea of how we can reach Setsuna.” Her eyes sparkled as she dialed the number—that particular way she clenched her teeth slightly when she was concentrating on something. The others nodded silently as the dial tone rang out through the room.
Rei held the cell phone away from her ear and stared at it angrily. “No signal,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I’ll try again later. All night, if I have to.”
“Usagi, I think it’s better if you get some rest now.” Ami’s voice sounded as soft as freshly fallen snow as she gently touched Usagi’s hand. “I can drive you home.” Her glasses sparkled in the afternoon light as she leaned forward slightly, forming a protective barrier between Usagi and the world.
Usagi nodded gratefully, her fingers clinging to Ami’s hand as if it were her only anchor in this swirling world. Minako jumped to her feet, her golden-blonde hair flying everywhere as she energetically grabbed the teapot. “I’ll make us some fresh tea! And then I’ll tell you about the time I thought I was pregnant—spoiler: I wasn’t!” Her laughter sounded a little too loud, a little too forced, but it was an attempt to lighten the mood. Her hands trembled slightly as she filled the pot, and a few drops spilled over the edge.
Makoto’s hand rested heavily and warmly on Usagi’s shoulder. “Didn’t you hear, Minako… Usagi needs to go home and rest.” Her voice was a steady anchor in the chaos that Usagi’s thoughts had become. Her hand pressed lightly against Usagi’s shoulder blade, like a silent reminder: I’m here. You’re not alone. “I’m sure everything will be all right, Usagi. Don’t worry so much.”
Usagi nodded despondently and let Ami’s firm grip guide her, her legs feeling like jelly. The cool autumn air hit her face like a slap as they left the shrine. The sun was already low in the sky, casting long shadows across the stone slabs of the path, which felt as if they might give way at any moment beneath her feet. From inside, she could hear Rei’s cursing as she once again couldn’t reach anyone on the phone.
Ami’s car jolted slightly over the bumpy road. The headlights cut through the increasingly dark twilight, casting long shadows over the silent Usagi, who had curled up in the passenger seat. “You know,” Ami began thoughtfully, her hands lightly brushing the leather of the steering wheel, “I’ve often tried to ask Setsuna how time travel actually works…” She cast a quick sideways glance at Usagi; her glasses reflected the greenish light from the dashboard. “She never wanted to give anything away. But she did say one thing once: Time isn’t a river that just flows straight ahead.”
Usagi didn’t respond. Her fingers were dug tightly into the fabric of her jeans, her knuckles white with tension. The wipers squeaked across the windshield, a monotonous sound that stretched out the seconds.
Ami cleared her throat and continued. “To me, that means the future might not be as fixed as we’ve thought so far, you know? Maybe our actions in the present do change the future after all.”
“You mean… there are parallel timelines? Like in *Back to the Future Part II*?” Usagi murmured, almost inaudibly. She placed her hand on her stomach. Outside, rain lashed against the windows, dripping down the windshield wipers like tears.
Ami parked in front of Usagi’s apartment building and turned toward her in her seat. The neon lights of the parking lot reflected off her glasses, blurring her eyes into impenetrable patches of light. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, her fingers nervously clutching her keychain, “but I think that would at least be theoretically possible... ” A metallic clink sounded as she squeezed it too tightly. “Only Setsuna can tell you for sure.” She took a deep breath, and when she continued speaking, her voice suddenly sounded much clearer. “But don’t think about it for now. Make an appointment with your gynecologist first thing tomorrow morning, okay? I’ll drive you there, too.”
Usagi trembled as she squeezed out of Ami’s car. The evening air hit her coolly. “Thanks, Ami. What would I do without all of you…” She swallowed hard, but it did nothing to ease the burning in her throat.
Ami squeezed Usagi’s hand one more time, her touch warm and reassuring. “Get some rest now. Take a bath, have some tea… and call Mamoru, okay?” Her smile was as soft as silk, but her eyes behind her glasses were serious. The front door creaked softly as it closed behind Usagi.
The scent of incense hung heavily in the air inside the shrine, mingled with the pungent smell of spilled green tea that had soaked into the tatami mats from the day before. Rei stared at her cell phone as if she could reach Haruka and Michiru through sheer force of will. Her fingers drummed impatiently against the bed frame. “Nothing,” she growled through clenched teeth. “Haruka’s phone goes straight to voicemail, and Michiru’s just rings forever.” Dark shadows were forming under her eyes.
Minako’s voice cut through the stifling air of the small room like a knife through butter. “I spoke with Hotaru on the phone.” She hesitantly set her mug down on the tabletop as all eyes turned to her. “But unfortunately, she doesn’t know how to reach Setsuna either.” Her last words sounded resigned. Her otherwise perfectly manicured nails were chewed down to the quick.
Makoto’s hand gripped her teacup a little too tightly as she asked the question they were all thinking. “Have you seen a doctor yet, Usagi?”
“No… I have an appointment for tomorrow afternoon at four.” Usagi nearly crushed the steaming teacup as she tried to hide the tremor in her hands.
“And… have you told Mamoru?” Rei asked.
Usagi shook her head sheepishly. “I haven’t reached him yet…,” she whispered, her gaze lingering on the cracks in the old wooden tabletop. The time difference to London had suddenly seemed like an insurmountable ocean to her. “And I didn’t want to leave
on his voicemail.” She bit her lip as she imagined how her trembling message might get lost among telemarketing calls and reminders of dentist appointments.
The others stared at her. Rei sat ramrod straight, her fingers clenched around the teapot as if she might crush it at any moment. “Usagi…” Her voice was heavy with menace.
Usagi jumped: “I… I’ll try again later, I promise!” She clutched the teacup so hard that a small pool of tea sloshed over the rim and trickled down her skin, but she didn’t feel it. The others stared at her—Rei with her lips pressed together, Ami behind her reflective glasses, Minako with an unusually serious expression. Only Makoto leaned forward and gently took the cup from Usagi before she could break it.
Usagi stood up abruptly, her legs wobbling slightly under the sudden weight of her own body. “I have to go… I still have some work to do for college,” she muttered. The smell of spilled tea still hung heavily in the air. “I’ll let you know what my doctor said…”
“Should I drive you home?” Ami asked in her calm, clinical voice, already rummaging through her bag for her car keys.
“No, thanks. I need some fresh air. But if you could come with me tomorrow…” Usagi’s voice was hoarse, as if she’d swallowed sand. She reached for Mamoru’s scarf—which she’d been wearing constantly since he left—and wrapped it around her neck mechanically.
Ami nodded. “Of course. I’ll be there at half past three.” She briefly pushed up her glasses, as if to make sure she could really see clearly—clearly enough to guide Usagi through this storm.
The shrill ringing at the door penetrated Usagi’s sleep only faintly. She lay curled up on the sofa, Mamoru’s scarf still wrapped around her neck, her fingers dug into the fabric. The apartment was dark; only the flickering light from the TV cast ghostly shadows on the walls—some news program about the upcoming turn of the millennium that she’d forgotten to turn off.
The ringing grew louder, a piercing Drrriiing-drrriiiing-drrriiing that jolted Usagi out of her half-sleep. She groaned. “Coming,” she muttered hoarsely as she pushed herself off the sofa. Her feet found unsteady footing on the cold hardwood floor as she shuffled toward the door. The musty smell of the unventilated apartment hung in her nose, mixed with the slightly sour scent of spilled tea on the coffee table.
Just before her hand reached the doorknob, the doorbell rang again—this time with a shrill, continuous tone, as if someone were pressing down on the button with all their weight. Usagi’s eyebrows furrowed, and her fingers clenched into a fist. “YES, I’M COMING ALREADY!” she yelled, yanking the door open so violently that it slammed against the wall. “How dare you—”
Usagi’s mouth hung open as if her jaw had been torn from its hinges. Standing before her was not a stranger, but Chibiusa—or, more precisely, a significantly taller, eleven-year-old version of her future daughter, who was eyeing her with a mischievous grin.