Slipping the unconscious body from over her shoulders Sailor Ate placed two fingers to the side of the victims neck and felt the slow reassuring beat of a pulse. The young man, no older than 15, had received the nasty end of a Youma filled stick this night and since Ate was still in the “good guy business” she saw no reason to stop protecting the people of Destiny City, after all there may have been a potential ally in one of them….and dam it some were just too cute not to rescue!. Except this one of course, having the same stupid floppy hair he was just too much of a dead ringer for her kid brother back in the UK and she couldn’t cope with the thought of him battling the lower colon of a angry youma tonight. Leaning him against a dumpster she felt satisfied that he was hidden enough not to be fondled by random tamps but close enough to the main street to find his way home once he woke. Up to that point he was on his own, Ate had more serious matters to attend too, like finishing her patrol and then getting a burger.

Turning away she surveyed the damage to her fuku. Even knowing it would be perfect the next time she henshied up didn’t stop her grimacing at the damage it had suffered. Her tights had ripped, the skirt was nearly hanging off and her under wiring to her bodice had been lost in the fray. Little trickles of blood where the youma had caught her out was peppered over her outfit, she was bruised and tired. The perfect state to meet somebody new.

Holy Blasphemy