Leave a “Haunt Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about a character watching over someone 

You didn’t specify, so I went with probably not what you had it mind! I hope you still enjoy it, and I apologize in advance for the rhymes.

_____

Minako could only anticipate so much. She’d had the hubris, once, to tell Pluto she was prepared for every possibility. Pluto had smiled, the way Pluto smiled that was more gutting than tears, and said she hadn’t.

And Pluto, of course, had been right.

Minako was prepared for war. She was prepared for destruction. For the dwindling of their humanity as they became gods. She’d thought through scenarios of their past taking over, their future vanishing, of their powers forsaking them at the worst moment.

She was not prepared for this.

A weak heart, the doctor had said.

Minako had nearly laughed in his face. No one who’d known Rei a good thirty seconds would call any part of her weak, and certainly not her stubborn, stupid heart.

“It’s consistent with her family history,” the doctor had said, more to the clipboard than to Minako. “If only we had caught it sooner.”

If only I had caught it sooner! It was stupid, not to think of it. To think that superpowers would steamroll all else. To think they were already gods enough to cheat their genes.

Rei lay quiet now, faded like a ghost, like she was already gone. Minako could not bring herself to go in, to hear the slow beeps that went with the lines on the machine she was hooked up to. She must hate it, all the wires. Any moment, she’d wake up and tell the nurses to stop wasting electricity.

Any moment.

Any moment.

Minako was supposed to keep them all safe. She was supposed to watch over them, she’d done everything, she thought, and yet…

She put her head against the glass. She’d relied on more eyes than just her own. Rei was how she saw, sometimes. They were partners, fitting together so fluidly sometimes it felt like they were a single body, filling each weakness with the other’s strength. How would Minako see now? How could she watch over them without her sight?

And who, now, would watch over Minako?

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Pluto smiled at her once more. “There is still hope.”

“You sound like Usagi.” Minako wiped her face. “But you and me, we know how this ends, don’t we? Knowing isn’t the same as giving up.”

Pluto inclined her head in concession. “Acceptance is just as admirable.”

“I haven’t accepted it.” Minako made a fist against the glass. “I can’t accept it, not until I see.”

“We don’t really know then, do we?” Pluto put her hand next to Minako’s, not quite touching, and began to hum softly. The melody struck something deep in Minako’s soul, something old and sad and slow.

“A song for a vigil.”

“The language is lost now, even to me. I have sung for you many times, even as the words forsook me.”

“Do you remember what it meant?”

“Something like a light for ships in the harbor, and stars for ships at sea. I look out for those I love, and love looks after me.” She traced waves across the glass. “I do not know what future lies before us. But I will watch it come.”

Minako could not be sure if the later was part of the song, or Setsuna’s own sentiment. It wove into the song in her head anyway, and she began to hum along. A light for ships at harbor, stars for ships at sea. If you must go where I cannot, I’ll keep watch for thee.

She kept humming as she took her first steps into that sterile room, as she pulled a plastic chair up to Rei’s bedside. The papery sheets crinkled when she took her hand. I know not what lies before us, and may never understand. But I’ll watch it come beside you, we’ll face it hand in hand.