Fic: 'Aphrodite at the Water Hole' (Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, gen, PG, 1/1) Title: Aphrodite at the Water Hole Fandom: Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Characters: Minako Word Count: 336 Rating: PG Spoilers: General series, I think, as I can't remember specific episodes to which I refer. Warnings: N/A Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Fate's hand, deft and artful, was also quick and cruel.
Aphrodite at the Water Hole
Fate's hand, deft and artful, was also quick and cruel. Minako had no real way of knowing if arrangement of the threads was an errant mistake, a grain of sand in a beach, escaping notice. Or, worse yet, if the artist in question picked each thread with deliberation, eager for the devastation she'd cause.
A snip here, the fall of the Silver Millennium. The rise of a great evil.
A pink thread here, and a clumsy, foolish, cheerful girl inherits power without the brains to operate it.
A thin white line here, and this was indefinable, a flutter in her stomach she could not explain, a nagging voice in the back of her head where she could only hear sounds, not words. She'd never been able to make them out. But it hadn't mattered, because then there was nothing. No one else considered Kunzite's disappearance noteworthy, but Minako still felt a sense of loss that she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to understand. Something just beyond her grasp.
And there was another thread. It had started so bright, vibrant and hopeful and eager to find its place in the big picture. But it was growing darker and duller, fading into the tapestry, turning gray, then black, then cut away into nothing. Minako could not see the forest, only the trees, so she did not know when it would end, or where, or least of all, why. Would the others be ready? Rei was too competitive. Makoto too brash and aggressive. Ami too meek. Luna too uninformed. And Usagi...
Minako patted absently at Artemis's fur. Her hand felt heavy. Her whole body felt heavy, weighted down with impossible worry. This wasn't a game. This was the entire world. A big globe, comprised of more minuscule, tightly woven threads than it was possible to count in several lifetimes. A subject with which Minako was well acquainted.
Billions upon billions of threads, all hinging on a handful of brightly colored strings.