And then there were three!

“OK Sorry about that,” said Kaze as she returned to the phone. 
“Hidey Hidey Hidey Ho!” said Tsukiko.
“Hidey Hidey Hidey Ho!” echoed both Kaze and Elokin. 
“What was that all about?” Elokin asked. 
“My Mom made me put the milk out,” Kaze said. 
“For faeries?” asked Elokin hopefully. 
“No,” Kaze replied flatly, “For stray cats. My Mom has this obsession with attracting stray cats to our house.”
“Oh,” said Elokin, “OK . . . anyway RAUGH!” All three girls began to laugh.
In the main room, Mrs. Yureru was sitting down, watching TV. Just then, through the open window, a cat flew in and landed right in her lap. 
“Umf. Oh, well hello there cute kitty . . .” she began to pet the black and white cat. 
“Hello there, Genesis,” the cat said. Mrs. Yureru promptly fainted. 

Umino Katana and Kuria Kakumei sat down on the floor of the candle-lit apartment, completing the small circle of people. Across from them, a young man with golden blond hair and purple eyes stood up. 
“‘Ode to the Street corner Artist,’ by Kenji. 
O, Peddler of Poems,
O, Salesman of Psalms, . . .” Katana winced, then leaned over to whisper in Kakumei’s ear. 
“Who invited Homer over here?” he whispered. 
“I don’t know, but if he doesn’t shut up soon, my head’s going to explode,” she replied. 
“ . . . Suitcase of Sonnets,
Handbag of Haikus . . .”
“Gag me, please,” said Kakumei. The leader of the rabble, the premier of the Secret Society of Freed Souls began to clap; the others began as well, causing Kenji to sit down in mid poem. Kakumei began rummaging in Katana’s bag. 
“Analgesic. I need an analgesic . . . Hey, what’s this?” she pulled out an ornate pen with the sign Scorpio carved in it. It began to glow. 
“Hey! Gimme that! That was my Mom’s!” said Katana as he tried to snatch it away. She moved her hand just in time. 
“How come I’ve never seen you use this pen?” 
“Because its girly. Now give it back!” he said, trying again to snatch back the pen. 
“Haste makes waste,” she said, as she put the pen in her purse. 
“Hey! Come on now! My Mom gave that to me!”
“Oh, so you want something of my Mom’s,” she began rummaging through her purse. “Here, my Mom gave me this.”
“I DON’T WANT YOUR MACE!!” he said, dropping it. “Who knows where that’s been . . .”
“Hey! I’m offended by that!” 
“ . . . besides, it’s not the same. Your Mom’s still alive.”
“Oh, come on! She spends all day in the kitchen. Her biggest worry is that there might be a bone in the potato salad!” he nodded ascent. 
“Well, you’ve got a point there. Fine, take it . . .”
“Score!”
“ . . . but if anything happens to it I’ll beat you like I did in third grade. “
“I can’t BELIEVE this! You beat me in thumb war once and you think your ‘King of the World.’”
He smiled and ran his hand through his hair. “I am ‘King of the World.’”
“Grrrrr!”

Hanako walked quickly through the dark streets to her cramped, but cozy apartment. In her sweaty palm she clutched the 25 dollars given to her but the Tokyo College of Art, just enough to pay the rent. As she walked home, she passed Sailorgalaxia Park and stopped. She looked in wonder at the twenty or so bodies spread out on the ground, solitary or in pairs, leaning up against trees, benches, fire hydrants, trash cans. She walked a step closer. 
“Hello,” she said. A few of them stirred, looked up, and went back to sleep. One got up. 
“Hey,” she recognized him as he stepped into the light. The tall, gaunt, thin artist with curly brown hair and square glasses. She had to hold in a gasp. 
“You . . . you sleep here?” 
“Sometimes. On a night like this, it’s no trouble at all. What? You know of a better place to sleep?” Without a moment’s hesitation she woke up each and every last hippie and took the whole troop to her apartment. Katachi didn’t quite get what was going on until they got there. 
“Whoa . . . the little lady’s got a pad!” The whole commune moved in, taking every available nook and cranny. She put some water on to boil. When it was ready Katachi was the only one still awake, which was good because there wasn’t enough to go around. She poured him a glass, cleared off some books, and sat down on the counter. 
“Mmmm . . .” he said, taking a sip of the tea. He shivered as it went through his system. He looked around. “No walls,” he nodded in approval. 
“Walls are a luxury I can’t afford,” she said, immersing herself in an oversized mug. 
“You can afford quite a lot,” he said, motioning to the handful of sweat-clampened cash she was still clutching. She gasped and dropped it. He bent over to pick it up. .
“Listen, you don’t have to do that. We’ve got a pretty good operation going on. We rotate parks, staying just long enough for the rangers to notice us but not long enough for them to remember. You could join us. You don’t have to sell yourself . . .”
“I’m not,” she said blatantly, “Not in the way you mean. That’s from the Tokyo College of Art, where I pose nude for young painters,” she looked down. He put her money on the table.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply . . .” 
“I fell that way sometimes,” she was still looking down, “they look at you, bare, without pretense, and they paint it, same as a vase or an apple. There’s no ‘Thank you,’ no looking you in the eye. Like you aren’t even human.” One solitary tear rolled down her cheek. He kissed it. He reached over and picked up his sketchpad. 
“Be human,” he whispered. 

Ganymede bowed to the image of Chrysobera. “You requested to speak with me?”
“Yes,” she said dryly, “The initial mental probes were completed on the specimens you brought in. Apparently, during your collection at the Bogei Institute, you missed the best ones.”
“Madam?” he said, his voice shaking. 
“I see you realize the gravity of the situation.” An image of two young men replaced hers on the screen. 
“I want them.”

“Mmmm . . .” murmured Fushika, who rolled over, her eyes opened slightly. They caught the shadow the moonlight made on the floor. She opened her eyes completely to see Shishiko, one leg out the windowsill. 
“And what do you think you’re doing?” Shishiko grabbed the windowsill. 
“Jesus! You almost made me fall! Go back to sleep!” she whispered. 
“Where are you going?” Fushika said, getting out of bed. 
“Where do you think?” she snapped. Fushika clicked on the lamp and began putting on her socks. 
“I’m coming too.”

Yagi got up to get a glass of water, when he noticed his brother wasn’t in the bunk below him. 
“Neko?” ne said, rubbing his eyes. He found Neko in the other room, pacing. 
“What’re you so anxious about?” Neko turned to look at him. 
“Go back to sleep!” he snapped. This called Yagi to grin. 
“No. I think I’ll just set right here,” he said, flopping down on the couch. Neko clenched his fists. 
“You get up right now!” he growled. 
“You wanna make me, Kitty man?” Just then, the doorbell rang. Neko ran to open it. There stood Shishiko, in a tight black leather mini skirt and a black spaghetti strap tank top. Behind her stood her sister Fushika, in red and green flannel pajamas. Neko just stood in the doorway, staring at her in a way that would make a normal woman blush. 
“Can we come in please, thank you,” said Fushika, pushing past her sister and Neko and walking inside. She sat down next to Yagi. 
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she looked at them, still in the doorway. 
“What do you think we can do about this?” 
“Beats me.” Finally, after what seemed like days, Shishiko came in. Neko reached behind the counter and pulled out a bottle of tequila. Both Yagi and Fushika jumped up. 
“Oh no you don’t!” they both said, walking over to their respective siblings. Fushika backed her sister behind the counter, into a corner. 
“I can’t believe you would be so blatantly irresponsible! If I wasn’t here . . .” Just then, a soft blue light began to fill the room. The two sisters ducked behind the counter. 
“Kano Neko and Kano Yagi, I presume,” Ganymede said from within his ever-present protective bubble. He surveyed the room. 
“Hmmm . . . lovely tastes. Just what I expected from two young men living by themselves. Lucky for me I suppose. That means I don’t have any hysterical parents to deal with. 
“We’ll be worse than any hysterical parents,” said Sailoraries, stepping out from behind the counter, “We’re the soldiers of justice, Sailoraries,”
“And Sailorleo. Prepare to become a midnight snack, bubble boy. Cataclysmic Shock!” Lightning bolts lanced out from her fingers at Ganymede, which were, as always, absorbed by his bubble shield.
“Where do you girls come from? Even in the middle of the night you still seem to know where I am! Oh well, all the better. You can witness the collection of 2 more specimens for Queen Chrysobera’s games.” And with that, the 2 young men were encased in blue transport bubbles. They clenched their fists in pain. 
“Not this time!” Leo shrieked as she ran for Ganymede, her hands pushing the barrier. Only a thin film of blue separated her hands from his neck, where she was choking him. 
“Let . . . them . . . go!” she said, her knuckles turning white. From inside the bubble he kicked her in the stomach, loosening her grip just enough for him to breathe. He pressed a button on his belt and began to fade away.
“I’ll get you next time, Sailor Senshi,” he said, fading into nothingness. The bubbles encasing the Kano brothers vanished, and the 2 fell to the ground. Leo clenched her fists, growling. Yagi and Neko got up. 
“You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

After an hour of walking Cosma realized that he was lost, and tired. He looked around. Just a few steps away was a lawn full of nice, soft grass. He walked into the yard. Just a little nap couldn’t hurt, he thought.