This is an alternative version of the story before the story - that is, all the happenings before Usagi and Mamoru first meet.

It should be a relatively short - though multi-chaptered - story.

After all, I've got the perfect ending. Or is it the perfect beginning?

This story ends with the beginning. It is the story of before. Not quite so far back as once upon a time, and nowhere near happily ever after…but somewhere just prior to the real beginning. It is the story of a boy and a girl and how they came to meet. It is not the story that everyone tells, nor is it the one most remember. Nor, in the scheme of things, is it one of much importance. But it is unique, and, if just for that, is worth being told.

Machines whirred, clicked and beeped endlessly in the small, sterile room. The walls were covered with wallpaper that had long since faded to a nondescript greenish hue. A chair rested against the far wall, opposite a hospital bed. A woman sat rigid in the chair, pale and wan, and the man standing beside her, with his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder, appeared none better.

The fragile girl in the bed was pale and unmoving, except for the rise and fall of her chest, with each shallow breath she took.

She had been unconscious and unresponsive for three days, and her doctors did not hold out much hope for her survival.

Chiba Mamoru entered the museum for the first time on a Tuesday. He wasn't quite sure why, but somehow the timing just felt right. He'd first noticed it on Thursday of the week before, on his daily walk home. He couldn't remember having seen it before, but the pristine, bright sign proclaiming "Museum of Antiquities" just seemed to call to him somehow.

The lobby floor was laid with marble, and immediately he was struck with how very small the museum was indeed, to have been put in the middle of a shopping district. Didn't they usually have buildings specially built for museums?

"May I help you?"

Mamoru turned, confronted with a man, who, though he looked young enough, sported long, white hair.

"Uh, yeah," Mamoru said, "I was hoping to take a tour of the museum. What's the price of admission?"

The man looked Mamoru over for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Finally he straightened, offering his hand to Mamoru, who shook it warily.

"For you, free. I'm the docent of this museum. Artemis, by name."

"Oh. It seems kind of small, for a museum," Mamoru commented, as the man led him through a narrow doorway, into a darkened room. Artemis had the sense to look abashed.

"Well, it's not a typical museum. You see, we specialize in Moon lore and artifacts." He flipped a switch on the wall, and the room flared to life, revealing ancient looking books on stands, paintings, and statues.

"Moon artifacts?" Mamoru sounded doubtful.

"Quite. You see, more than a thousand years ago, there was a thriving civilization on the moon, a marvelous kingdom, quite advanced, even for this day and age." Artemis lifted a heavy tome, smoothing his fingers lovingly over the hard cover, and hefted it into Mamoru's arms. "Go ahead. Take a look."

"Won't it damage the book if I do that?" Mamoru asked.

"No, no, of course not. Books made on the moon are of hardier stuff than ancient Earth texts." Artemis sounded faintly scornful. Mamoru shrugged, setting the heavy book on a nearby table. He opened it, peering curiously at what was written within.

"It's…it's not in English," he said, scanning the flowing text for familiar letters or symbols.

"Of course it's not in English. You couldn't expect such an advanced culture to speak such a clumsy language, could you?" Artemis huffed in annoyance, thumbing through the book as though he could easily go purchase another.

"What does it say?"

Artemis sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea. The last person who could speak Lunarian died nearly three centuries ago. No one has been able to read the language in more than five."

"Then what good are the books, if no one can read them?"

Artemis stared at Mamoru for a long moment, as if appraising him. Then, he reached inside his shirt, retrieving an old key on a long, silver chain.

"I'll show you," he said. He motioned for Mamoru to follow him across the room to a door hidden under a heavy tapestry. He shoved the key into the lock, wrenching the long unused door handle, and leading Mamoru into the dark room. When the lights came on, Mamoru unwittingly took a few steps forward, eyes wide in amazement. Catching himself, he turned to look at Artemis for approval.

"It's okay, go take a look."

With permission granted, Mamoru strode eagerly forward. He stopped inches away, gazing in open admiration at the figure before him. The statue was on a pedestal about five feet in height. It was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"It doesn't look like marble," he said to Artemis.

"She is made of wax," Artemis said, moving up beside him. "This is a carving of the Princess Serenity, heiress to the moon kingdom, high priestess of the empire, protector of her people. Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes," Mamoru breathed, "she was. This is an actual likeness of her, then?"

"Supposedly," Artemis said, "though no actual portraits of the princess survived. You see, most of the books and artifacts in the museum were not recovered from the destroyed Moon kingdom, but were already in the hands of Earth families at the time of the Moon kingdom's destruction. For centuries afterwards, all Moon artifacts were contraband, and just owning one could have gotten you hanged. Still, many miraculously survived. I think it was by the Lady's grace."

"What?" Mamoru asked, without looking at Artemis. He couldn't tear his gaze from the wax carving on the pedestal. The woman looked real. She was perfect…complete with long blonde hair, and a white chiffon dress. She was kneeling on the pedestal, eyes closed, smiling serenely, hands clasped as though in prayer with a string of pearls threaded through them. Even a delicate crystalline tiara was perched atop her hair.

"That's what Legend says it was, whenever there was an unexplainable bout of good luck, it was by Lady's grace, Serenity's grace. I'm sure she would want to be remembered."

"What happened to her?"

Artemis sighed, as though he hated telling this part of the story.

"She – and her people with her – were slaughtered. As the story goes, she was in love with the Prince of Earth, Endymion. But he was betrothed to another, and that jealous lady made use of the dark arts to end her fiancé's dalliance with Princess Serenity. But, in the end, Enydmion died with her, and some say that her soul waits for Endymion's reincarnation to free her from her troubled sleep. She cannot rest until she is with him once again."

"Where did you hear that legend? I thought no one could read the books."

"And no one can. That legend has been told in my family for hundreds of years. That sculpture was done by a distant relation of mine, many centuries ago, and it has survived in the capable hands of my family for that long. We have long been protectors of the old legends. We believe the old stories. Would you like to know why I brought you to this room?"

"That would be nice," Mamoru dragged his gaze away from the sculpture long enough to meet Artemis' gaze. The man reached behind the pillar, dragging out a frame covered by a dusty cloth. He dragged the cloth away, and held the painting to the light, for Mamoru to see.

"That…that looks like…" Mamoru's mouth went dry as he looked on the portrait that Artemis held.

"You," Artemis supplied helpfully. "As a matter of fact, this is a portrait of Prince Endymion, one of the few in existence. That's why you're here." He set the portrait down, gently replacing the cloth over it. "Obviously, looking like him does not make you his reincarnation, but I figured it's worth a shot."

"What's 'worth a shot'?" Mamoru asked uneasily.

"You see, there's another legend," Artemis began. "This is no ordinary wax sculpture. It has been just like this, this perfect, this vibrant, this real for hundreds of years. My family's legend says that is because it is the favored shell for Serenity's soul, when Endymion returns to her. We have spent generations trying to find Endymion's reincarnation."

"I don't know," Mamoru said. "I don't feel like a reincarnated prince. I don't have any weird memories or anything."

"Would you be willing to just…just try?" Artemis asked.

"Try what? I'm sorry, I don't know anything about summoning ancient dead princesses." Mamoru's laugh was strained.

Artemis winced. "To tell you the truth," he admitted, "I don't know what to do, either. None of the legends mentioned anything beyond finding Endymion's reincarnation."

"Oh. Well." Mamoru surprised himself by moving back towards the sculpture of the princess. She really was beautiful. The artist must have been an expert craftsman. She looked like a truly real person. He almost expected to see her breathing.

His eyes widened suddenly, watching in surprise as her chest moved, just a little, in a shallow breath.

"I thought…I-I thought I saw…" He reached out, touching her arm, but instead of feeling smooth wax, he felt warm flesh. He jerked his hand back in surprise, as her eyes opened, a clear, flawless blue. The pearls in her hand fell with a clattering sound to the floor as she dropped them to reach out her hand to Mamoru. The movement unbalanced her, and she fell. Mamoru instinctively raised his arms to catch her, just as she toppled into them. She didn't weigh much, but the shock of it all made his legs go out from under him, and he hit the ground hard.

"Ouch!" His butt smarted, but more disturbing was the press of soft skin against his chest, and those blue eyes gazing into his as she whispered his name. Only it wasn't his.

"Endymion."