Naito Raida ikari@chariot.net.au
>From the Personal Journal of Neo Queen Serenity
(Tsukino Usagi I)
6/29/98
Anyway, it was when I had been guided into one of the
playrooms, and suitably surrounded by a gaggle of young children,
all holding out gifts of flowers and whatever else they had been
instructed to give, that I noticed the boy who had survived the
massacre of his village, holding back in the corner of the main
room. He didn't seem interested in greeting me at all, and as my
time in the playroom passed, had sunk into a small ball, his hands
wrapped tightly over the top of his head, facing the wall.
I asked one of those in charge of the playgroup about the boy,
and was told about his story. Well, what do you think I did then,
hmm? I do have a reputation to keep up, although I didn't know, at
that time, what I was getting myself into. I'd never encountered an
orphan of, what could be considered in retrospect, war, before, and
was not experienced in the kind of post-traumatic stress exhibited
by those who survive such events. Even before I approached the boy,
I was warned by not only those in charge of the orphanage, but my
own bodyguards, that his reaction to my presence might be....
unexpected and unnatural.
But did I listen to them? Oh nooooo.... I'm Princess
Serenity, right? Everyone KNOWS I mean them no harm. Well, after
kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder, he turned in
fright and sank his teeth into my fingers. I spent the next few
minutes trying to stop people mobbing him whilst simultaneously
sucking my fingers in a vain attempt to relieve the pain. Not what
one would call the most regal moment in my existence.
As one of my aides was trying to guide me away from the boy,
one of the orphanage's workers grabbed him by the hair and lifted
him to his feet, screaming and bawling. I turned to them and
snapped, with about as much force as I could muster, which is not
pleasant when you're at the receiving end, I'm lead to believe. Of
course, the only way I could have experienced what it was like to
face my own rage is when my mother would go off her tree, as she
was (occasionally) capable of doing. I seem to remember one such
moment when I was climbing a tree in the Palace gardens, but I
digress.
The worker let go of the boy in surprise, who then crawled
back into the corner of the room and huddled as I surprised all
with my grasp of expletives. I then thought twice and apologised,
still quite annoyed with the woman, who was down on her knees
begging for forgiveness. As if she expected to be executed for
what she had done.
I brushed her and my aides aside and went back to the boy, who
had kept one tear-filled eye on what was going on. He watched me
approach, his body stiffing with anticipation. I could feel, deep
within me, the very distrust that he was feeling. A hatred of other
people, given birth by bearing witness to things even I could not
imagine in my deepest, darkest nightmares. The eye that kept a wary
vigil on me was no longer the eye of a child, for no child in their
right mind could express what was within him, merely in a glance.
And still, I reached down to him, because, just as he seemed
no longer capable of expressing the desire to connect with other
humans, I could not allow myself to let someone.... anyone.... to
sink into such a deep, horrible abyss of pain and emotional despair.
I knew no differently.
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BISHOUJO SENSHI SAILORMOON / TAIHO SHICHAUZO
NOT A GOD
by nIGHT rIDER (Assistance by DDFA)
Disclaimer - all characters pertaining to the series Bishoujo Senshi
Sailormoon and Taiho Shichauzo are owned by Takeuchi Naoko,
Fujishima Kosuke, Bandai, TBS, and Kodansya. All other characters
were thought up by me. Well, it's true, isn't it?
Chapter 14
Waking Up is Hard to Do
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>From the Personal Journal of Neo Queen Serenity
(Tsukino Usagi I)
6/29/98
Wrapped within the protection of my arms, the boy seemed to
be dozing off, as if he had never been able to sleep since his
ordeal had begun.
There had once been an occasion where Mars had described me
as the kind of person who tended to take in stray animals,
especially after they flashed their big, doe-like eyes at me or
made little whining/whimpering/mewling noises. Well, I did befriend
Rei, so she was probably right.
The boy was not some pathetic, starving, cute little animal.
Well, he certainly wasn't all that cute, as my fingers could attest
to, but I could just see everyone's faces when I brought him back
into the Palace. "Oh no, not ANOTHER one?" They'd say. "Don't
you ever, ever, EVER give up?" Even worse, what mother would say to
me. I mean, what could I say? "Sorry Mom. It followed me home, so
can I keep it?" I don't think so, somehow.
I let things slide, though. Better to deal with the hard
stuff when I got home. It was still a couple of days before my
personal transport arrived at the Guardian Satellite, the last
stopover navigation point before the final descent to the Moon.
I had always found something comforting about the silence of
travel between the worlds and stations. There were teleports, of
course, which had made the process of travelling and transportation
of trade that much easier, but I despised the sensation of being
ripped from one place and thrown into another. It denied you the
ability to feel the passing time and space that comes with actually
being physically moved. For all the good that teleports had done,
they had all the sensual subtlety of a brick through a window.
No, the ability to just lie back, glancing out a port at an
approaching orb or station.... The feeling of micro gravity and
positive weightlessness.... The momentum of the vessel, the light
emanating from the engines and navigation beacons.... Now THAT is
what I call travelling. I could fall asleep, gently shaken by the
rumbling of the vessel, constant and predictable, it came as no
surprise that the boy, never having experienced these sensations,
should give in to them as I so often did. Despite the misgivings
he seemed to express earlier about being snatched from the
surroundings of the orphanage by a young woman he didn't know. He
quickly got the hang of NOT being in the orphanage, however, and I
wasn't all that surprised. Even though the constancy of the
orphanage had given him a sense of stability that he had lost in
his short life, the possibility of something BETTER is quite a
strong lure.
It had also been a long time since I had traveled with anyone
aboard my transport. Not since I was a child have I had the
pleasure of another's company.
----o
The West Entrance of the Gallery was not what Natsumi had been
expecting. Something with a name like 'West Entrance' gave her the
impression of something important and official, especially when
attached to concepts like 'Gallery'. She had not been able to glean
any information from Miyuki, whatsoever, as to what this Gallery
might be, or even where it was and to whom it belonged. But still,
given everything else she had seen in this dream, she was sure it
had to be important.
It wasn't. Well, not that much.
The West Entrance looked a bit dark and dingy, like the
doorway to an ancient dungeon. After following Miyuki, who resisted
all attempts to make light conversation, along a succession of
equally impressive hallways, they passed through an arch into what
appeared to be an older part of the palacial structure. The halls
were still impressive in Natsumi's estimation, but they were by no
means as opulent as the others had been. It was a sign of a power
on the rise.... Official buildings becoming more impressive over
time, their older counterparts looking, quite frankly, crap in
comparison.
The smaller hall was like that found in older government
buildings back home. Modestly high ceiling, with adornments only
around light fittings. Pale green walls were interspersed with
large, dark wooden doors, vaguely Victorian era in their finish and
the little brass plates nailed into them, denoting their purpose
and/or the owners of the room beyond.
None of the doors were open, which surprised Natsumi. She had
not seen a single bit of hustle and bustle anywhere within the
palace.... Not even messengers and couriers, who might have been
expected to be dashing all over, considering the distances. It was
a little unnerving, although it was probably well after office
hours. Well, OF COURSE it was after office hours.... She WAS
dreaming all of this, for Ducati's sake.... She snorted to herself
as they passed through another archway into an even older and less
impressive part of the palace, making Miyuki.... The Second
Guardolier, Natsumi had to remind herself, glance back in her
direction quizzically.
As they descended a flight of stairs towards what would
ultimately turn out to be the West Entrance, Natsumi considered her
longtime partner, and wondered why she would be dreaming her in such
a haughty and distant manner. Was this version of Miyuki a
caricature of the kind of person her subconscious envisioned her to
be? To begin with, maybe Miyuki had a tendency to hold back about a
lot of things, about her past and her personal life. Natsumi, on
the other hand, was barely capable of even THINKING about holding
back her thoughts and feelings on many a subject, most especially
her past and her personal life. Indeed, she was incapable of
holding back her thoughts and feelings about the personal lives of
everyone around her, but that was another subject....
Miyuki paused by the two ancient wooden doors that made up the
West Entrance and ran a hand over them, slowly, studying them from
up close. "What is it?" Natsumi leaned over her shoulder,
quizzically.
"There does not seem to be any sign of the doors being
forced." Miyuki's face became thoughtful and she lifted her face to
the top of the doorway, reaching up to feel the gap where the doors
met the stonework. "The spirits of this place are quiet. They have
not been disturbed for quite some time. Wherever the thieves are
gaining access to the Gallery, tis not through here."
"The spirits...." Natsumi began, then thought better of it,
nodding with a smile as if she understood what Miyuki was talking
about. Miyuki turned to her and gestured towards the door with a
nod.
"Well, it's up to you, now."
"Eh?" Natsumi swallowed. Miyuki waited patiently, tapping a
foot with some impatience.
"Open the doors." Miyuki reached out a hand and pushed
against the door. Even with all of her weight behind it, the doors
refused to move an inch. Miyuki stopped and turned back to Natsumi.
"Why do you think the Commandeer sent you with me? You're the one
with the Spirit of Power within you. Only one with the right kind
of spirit can communicate with the spirits of these doors.
Otherwise they get, to use a vulgar form of vernacular, pissed off
and refuse to allow people through until their dander wears down."
"Oh, right then." Natsumi giggled, then turned to the door,
completely perplexed as to what Miyuki expected her to do. "Well, I
better open them, then."
"Please do." Miyuki crossed her arms and waited as Natsumi
cracked her knuckles and stepped up to the recalcitrant wooden
objects. She flexed her muscles and slammed her hands against them,
preparing to apply every bit of strength within her to push them
apart, when she found herself flat on her face, the doors clanging
against the walls as if they had been barged through by an elephant
on steroids. Miyuki sighed and stepped over her partner into the
rarely-used West Hall of the Palace Gallery. "Very good, Third
Guardolier. Allow absolutely everyone in the Gallery know we're
coming. All you had to do was push gently, but no...."
Natsumi looked daggers at Miyuki's back as her partner
silently padded along the small, dark hall that lead to an even
darker, and obviously larger, room beyond. Picking herself up she
glanced back at the doors, sourly, and was sure she could see large
sweatdrops running down their sides. "Yes...." She whispered to
herself. "I'd be sweating oceans too if I were you."
"Sorry ma'am." Said one of the doors. "We saw you building
up like that and, well, we didn't want to get hurt."
"Yeah, it's been so long since we've been opened. I mean, our
hinges need some oiling and all, and with that force behind you,
well, it would have been real bad if we didn't get out of the way."
"It'll be pink elephants next." Natsumi shook her head and
followed Miyuki, stopping behind her partner before glancing back
at the doors, her jaw hitting the floor. "Wait a minute, those
doors, they just.... to me.... they just...."
"Shhhhh." Miyuki turned to her. "I think I can hear someone
talking within the Gallery. Right over on the far side, near the
ancient fountain."
Natsumi shrugged, trying to tell herself that this was only a
dream.... Only a dream.... Only a dream.... "And I take it that
there isn't supposed to be anyone in the Gallery right now?"
"At this time of the morning? You're kidding me?" Miyuki
rubbed her chin. "It sounds like two women, talking to each other."
"Some of our own?" Natsumi quizzed, but Miyuki shook her
head.
"There isn't enough time for the others to have reached the
Main Entrance. And whoever it is, they're apparently unconcerned
about being discovered. They aren't expecting anyone to disturb
them...."
----o
Usagi ran her fingers through the gently rippling waters of
the ancient fountain, staring at her own distorted reflection. "He
never left your side, you know? Not for years. Not until he was a
young man. There were times when we thought he would come between
Endymion and yourself, but...." Queen Serenity looked upwards at
the large skylights that ringed the ceiling above the fountain.
Beams of Earthlight, pale and ghostly, filtered through, giving the
entire scene an almost eerie, unearthly feel. There were no other
lights to speak of, only the light of the Earth.... One day to be
the last sanctuary for humankind. Usagi followed her gaze,
squinting at the orb above, seemingly huge in comparison to the
usual reverse view of the moon from the Earth.
"Was he happy?" Usagi asked, softly. "After all of that, did
he manage to live a happy life?"
"He left, eventually. It is the destiny of all those not born
to our inheritance to find their own way." Serenity turned back to
Usagi. "A life, on the world in which he was born. He married a
servant girl from the palace and settled in what we would now call
Ukraine. In times we would now regard as almost pre-historical."
"Did he ever have children of his own?" Usagi found herself
asking, as if the question was important to her. The glow of the
Earth seemed to be filling her eyes ever brighter, dazzling her and
making Serenity's voice seem as ethereal as it should have been.
"Many many adopted children filled his life. Your influence,
I'm afraid." Serenity smiled.
Tears entered Usagi's eyes. "So he had no children of his
own...." She swallowed, softly. "Too hard to get that close to
people after everything he witnessed with his own eyes."
"Oh no, he had several children of his own. And they had many
children, too. And so on and so forth, so the pattern of life
continues. Right until this very day, when two of distant
descendants fall in love, get married and have a couple of children
of their own."
"Hmm?" Usagi turned to her, distractedly. "Who?"
Serenity smiled, then looked into the darkness of the Gallery,
distracted by something. Something moving, small and apparently
frightened. "I'm afraid our time is over for now. Morning must
come, even if, sometimes, we wish it would stay away forever."
"But...." Usagi began, but Serenity waved a hand over her
daughter's eyes, and the girl fell into a daze. Slowly, Serenity
padded away from the side of the fountain, towards the cowered,
huddled form in the darkness, leaving Usagi to fade into
nothingness.
"Come to me, child." Serenity gestured towards the figure in
the darkness. "We must all take responsibility for our actions...."
She smiled, perhaps a little sadly. "Sooner or later, we all do."
----o
The Gallery wasn't what Natsumi expected it to be. Somehow,
she had visions of dreary classical art mixed with intractably
obscure pieces of modern garbage that left you feeling as if the
artist was simply taking the piss.
Well, there WERE works of art in the Gallery, but every single
one of them had a form, or a function, that wasn't simply to be
there, taking up room. Vast sculptures that had once been an
artistic effort at a water refining system for a well to do client,
or a solar ray conversion generator, or a magnetic field totaliser
and navigator, or an interstitial temporal instigator.... Or so all
the different plaques said. Natsumi wasn't so sure, since she was
too busy remarking on the fact that she was able to read something
in a completely foreign language.... One she had never seen before.
That and the fact that she was spending much of her time
flitting to and from various works in the near-pitch black, slowly
making her way towards the lighter end of the Gallery where the
voices had come from, and trying her best to be inconspicuous, even
though it made her feel extremely silly. Although it certainly
helped that the situation was not all that unlike what she'd been
trained to do as part of her normal daily routine as a cop.
And Miyuki seemed to be enjoying it, obviously getting a real
buzz out of all the cloak and dagger stuff. Well, at least some
things about this version of Miyuki weren't so different. She
stared across the Gallery, trying to make out Miyuki's figure, and
wondered why her partner was finding it so easy to miss all the
little things that she had tripped up over.
Within seconds, she was grabbed from behind, a knife, or
something very much like it, held across her throat. She hadn't
even heard her assailant creep up from behind. "And that...." Said
the figure. "....Is why you're still a Third Guardolier. What the
hell are you doing, tripping up over everything in sight when you
could be making it easy for yourself?" The figure lifted the cold
object from Natsumi's throat and held it out in front of her. The
'blade' of the knife had been the arm on a pair of what looked like
shades, made of cold metal.
"Thankyou very much, Miyuki. Would you mind not creeping up
behind me like that?" She grabbed the shades and placed them over
her eyes, as if it were something she did every day. Despite the
fact that they were made of a solid metal, and therefore should have
made things a little HARDER to see, the Gallery lit up like a
Christmas tree. Natsumi opened her mouth in surprise as Miyuki
gripped her by the ear, pulling her aside.
"And I'd thankyou very much not to be so familiar with my
name, THIRD Guardolier."
"Owwoww.... No need to be so rough." Natsumi retrieved her
ear as Miyuki let go, rubbing it as she watched her partner skittle
across the floor of the Gallery like a manic crab. "Damn, girl, now
you're just showing off. Where did you learn to do that?" She
whispered, leaving the question rhetorical as she followed, trying
to keep herself some distance away from her partner so that they
could move in on their intended target in a pincer. If need be.
Seconds later, she was dazzled. Something impossibly bright
glimmered from nearby a fountain at the far end of the Gallery.
Natsumi ripped off the night-vision shades and rubbed her eyes,
cursing. This dream hurt. Why was a dream HURTING, for Kami's
sake? Dreams weren't supposed to hurt, they weren't real. "Well,
technically speaking...." Said a voice, whispering in her ear.
"Dreams are but an input of information from your subconscious to
your conscious mind, so if you THINK you're getting hurt, then you
are, and you react accordingly. Except for the fact that, well,
your body doesn't react, since it's been switched off. It would be
a pain if the off switch didn't work, what do you think?"
Natsumi opened her eyes, still slightly dazzled, to find
herself nearby the fountain. Miyuki was in front of her, holding
the figure of a young boy, who seemed unconscious, whilst she had her
head bowed to the glowing figure before her. Natsumi looked up at
the glowing figure, unable to make out any of the features on her
face. "Uhhh... What? Did? You? Say?" She stuttered. Miyuki
looked aside at her, a stern expression on her face.
"Time to open your eyes, Third Guardolier. I have a task for
you to perform." The figure said, softly. And then things were too
bright for Natsumi to blot out....
----o
"Ahem.... Test test test...." Miyuki tried out the
earphones, linked into Natsumi's sound system. Having set up the
system for her, Miyuki probably knew more about what it could do
than her partner ever dreamed it capable. One thing she had not
thought possible, as Miyuki placed the earphones around the head of
Natsumi's sleeping form, was its amplification abilities.
Certainly, she had not turned the volume up any higher than halfway
on the dial, for fear that any higher would blow the outside wall
of her bedroom off the apartment building.
That, of course, was with the speakers, not the earphones. As
Miyuki lifted the microphone to her mouth, she steeled herself for
the possible explosion that would occur when Natsumi reacted.
Although there was no real reason why she should, considering she
had already gone through the stun gun, the airgun with the wet
tissue and the bucket of ice water. Natsumi just seemed more and
more immune to being woken up with each passing day.
Turning up the volume to high, she cleared her throat into the
microphone, which made Natsumi sit up, if nothing else. Hoping this
was a positive start, she then coughed and made strange snorting
noises. Natsumi fell back on the bed and started to snore again.
Gritting her teeth, she placed the microphone next to Natsumi's face
and turned up the bass, then stormed out of Natsumi's room as it was
getting pretty close to time for them to leave for work.
Miyuki was already dressed by the time Natsumi staggered into
the kitchen, scratching a head that was still attached to the
headphones, its plug dragging along the floor about three feet
behind her. Miyuki poured herself some coffee from the percolator
and watched as Natsumi scanned the kitchen, not really taking
anything in, looking rather green around the gills. "Ohayo."
Miyuki said, pleasantly. Natsumi grunted something unintelligible
in reply. "It's getting late. You should get ready for work, you
know?" She continued in the same sing-song voice.
"I feel sick." Natsumi groaned. "I think I'm gonna die."
"That's what you get for drinking so much before you go to
bed. Drinking so much, per se, in fact. You know what happens when
you do. I can't imagine why you do it."
"Urusai yo!" Natsumi grunted.
----o
"....And that's what she said about the boy...." Usagi leaned
back in her chair at the kitchen table as she finished recounting
her dream to Miki and her parents.
"Sounds to me as if all this excitement has been playing on
you, Usagi-chan." Kenji smiled as his wife fed him a slice of toast
as if he were a child.
"Haaaaiiiii...." Ikuko smiled as Kenji bit into the toast.
Usagi rolled her eyes and hugged on tightly to Miki, who looked up
at her, smiling.
"You know, I had a dream like that, only different." Miki
chirped, looking brighter for a good night's sleep. Usagi smiled at
her, wondering how much her own dream had affected Miki. Of course,
Usagi hadn't given away all the details of her dream, but it gave
her a bit of a start to think that Miki might know things she didn't
quite want her to know.... Not just yet, anyway.
"How different, Miki-chan?" Ikuko smiled across the table at
the girl, who smiled back.
"Well, there was a young boy, but he grew up and had lots and
lots of children, who all had lots of children, and so on. And then
I saw Ikuko-mama and Kenji-papa get married. I don't know what it
means, but you were both really happy. I hope I can find a boy and
be as happy as that."
END OF PART 14
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Next Chapter.... From the Mouths of Babes
Naito Raida ikari@chariot.net.au
----
MAPPY
Arrows A2, Brabham BT55, Ligier JS31, Alfa 179, Ferrari F312T5, Lotus 80
Proof that, no matter how good something looks at first, it can still be crap!