sailorsaturn could remember the fall of the silver millennium, the only one outside of pluto. hotaru would sometimes get visions of the past, the screaming and despair fogging her vision, while soaking in the tub. sailorsaturn had the deepest memory, would thrive on the endings of it all. when worlds ended, she wanted it to be completely, leave no loose ends or beginnings. if anything, her deaths were neat and practical. hotaru was not practical, left her clothes strewn about her bedroom floor, in defiance.
when hotaru changed to saturn, she learned about the end. sailorsaturn had the awareness fluttering like a second heartbeat. circulating with her blood was the knowledge, when she looked at the senshi, these were all that was left of the silver millennium. there was the old palace under the earth, in a rage over three weeks she had destroyed it, bit by brick. there was nothing left of the old stone and structures, all was pulverized to sand. sailorsaturn knew, every molecule of her knew how to end it. there were the shitennou rocks, the moon princess and her lover, the four inner senshi, the two outer protectors, and then the solar system would be laid bare. but now, nothing is as it was supposed to be.
the final battle with galaxia was almost a perfect ending, but not. there was something that usagi held, an unwillingness to die when it was necessary. sailorsaturn hated her for it, that stupid moon princess who wouldn’t stay in her place. everything in this world was supposed to have order, saturn knew exactly when it didn’t. hotaru loved usagi, the kindness and how sometimes she would stop by the house with pocky and a hug.
hotaru hated saturn, violently. she had dreams of being a pacifist, after the final battle had become a vegetarian. she didn’t like looking at the pedestrians and knowing exactly when and how they would die, so she stayed at home. bits of saturn were bleeding into hotaru, like the memories of the ending screams embedded in her dreams all awash in glory. hotaru would spend time as often with setsuna as possible, considering how little she was around. it was a sort of relief to study that face, and not know the secrets of her life. chibiusa too, she wasn’t supposed to know the future so didn’t know how it was going to end for her friend. her best friend, she had to remember, was a product of the loose ends left untied.
so hotaru sat at home, practiced her kanji and listened to michiru play the violin. there wasn’t music while the old moon fell, at least not anything that the others could hear. sailorsaturn remembered, it had started in a masquerade ball but the musicians were some of the first dead. and from there, a ballet had descended; full of lovers betrayed and untidy endings, but finishings all the same. sailorsaturn knew about the end, and hotaru knew all the endings.