Tsukino Usagi [untitled] It's hard to imagine: Me, a queen. And not just any queen- QUEEN of the UNIVERSE! My corner of it, anyway. That's no small thing when you think about it . . . which I try not to. Much. But sometimes I can't help it. Tsukino Usagi, "rabbit of the moon", klutz. Crybaby. Odango atama. Well, the meatballs are gonna have a crown on them someday. That'll show them-- Rei-chan, Mamoru . . . Well, not Mamo-chan. (Am I mad at him this week?) He'll be there, after all. My consort, my husband, my partner in everything. Just like now. My daughter's father-- just like now! Hard to wrap my mind around _that_ one. (Rei-chan would say, "What mind? You mean the plate of spaghetti between your ears?" Sometimes I pretend she's not going to be there too.) Think about Mamor- no, Endymion, because I'll be Serenity then. Protector. Love and lover. _Not_ like now! Too weird to think about, now, considering the only time we touch "improperly" is in the middle of a fight when he rescues me by grabbing me any way he can, just to get me out of danger. I don't think that counts. Although (no matter what Makoto's romance novels say) it shows more love than any amount of groping, which is what the other girls get from their boyfriends. They look at me strangely because I don't join in those conversations. Well, _my_ boyfriend plans to marry me-- and is a prince besides, for real-- and prefers to stay on my father's good side. Dad says weird things . . . I understand "modesty" and "proper" and "reputation" . . . but I haven't quite figured out "statutory rape". Funny, Mamo-chan won't explain it either . . . And I haven't quite had the nerve to look it up. I couldn't do it on my own, anyway-- Ami-chan would need to navigate just to get me through the library doors! I suppose I could ask Mako-chan . . . or Minako . . . Between the two of them I'd get some kind of answer. But they'd want to know why I want to know. _But_ they are going to be my advisors . . . when I'm queen . . . so maybe I should start asking their advice now. Never mind. I get enough practice at that by getting Ami to help me with my homework. I'm getting muddled just thinking to myself. Not a good sign, Usagi! Hard to rule the universe-- okay, the solar system-- when you can't follow your own trains of thought. I'd better work on that. If I think hard enough about it every day, I'm sure I'll get better! Of course I will! Except . . . now I've lost track of what I was thinking about. Oh, well. It can't have been very profound . . . Can it? ******************************************************************************** "Gold, Untarnished"--Aino Minako What have I done? I had it all, I think. No one would ask for more. Showered in glory, the idol of my peers. Beautiful and powerful, blessed with strength of my own and gifts beyond the ken of those around me. I had fame if not fortune, and I only lacked that because I didn't want an agent. What a hassle! But they made the manga--it was mine. The movie--it was me. Video games. Interviews. I was a _celebrity_. When I had that mask on, they all wanted to know me. I had it all. I had nothing, too. No one to understand me. No one I could pretend was my equal, not even for a little while. No one to confide in. No one who even tried to be my friend. I was alone, aloof, the snob from Tokyo, ignored if not despised. "Who does she think she is?" they said. Once, someone added, "Sailor V?!" in a voice of such contempt that I felt like she had beaten me up. Punched me in the gut, so hard I couldn't breathe. Going home, Mom asked what was wrong. And I couldn't tell her. I had all and nothing. Was it worth it? I thought it was, for a while. And I gave it all up. For what? So I can stand in the shadow of someone more powerful than I. As beautiful as I. Loved by everyone, almost, despite her secrets. Stand in her shadow, a reflection of her, instead of being my own light. So I can be part of a "team". So what? So I have to reach a consensus on every issue, strategy or whatever else. So I have to watch their backs, keep track of others' movements instead of my own. So I have to, sometimes, walk them through what comes to me as naturally as breathing? I've been doing this far longer than they have-- and going it damn well without them. Was it worth it? I have friends now; this is a novelty in itself. I can relax, let my hair down, be Minako as well as the senshi. There are people to watch _my_ back. People I can believe in, confide in, argue with, hang out with, fight beside, trust. People who understand, who build me up where I've always been torn down. Sisters more than friends-- friendships sometimes end, but we are forever. We can say anything we want, anything we have to, because eventually we will _have_ to work things out. We have the luxury of being able to hurt each other. We have the knowledge to be able to hurt each other more than anyone else ever can. We have the love that keeps us from doing so. The love. Tears. Hugs and pillow fights. That's what we're made of! No one will ever break us. No one! And for that, I know, in a part of me so deep that I sometimes forget it's there, so deep that I sometimes question it, it was all worth it. The mask is off. Too bad I didn't keep it-- it would've been good fuel for our bonfires at Rei-chan's shrine. ******************************************************************************** "Uprooted"--Kino Makoto Funny, isn't it? How most memories fade away, no matter how hard you try to hang onto them. Some stick around, it's true, but can you really trust them? Hard to tell. Some days I try to remember the most important moments of my life. I always smile at this one. There I was, fighting for my life, and a cat spoke to me. A cat! I thought I must be going crazy, but if I was it hasn't worn off yet. So I did what she told me, and . . . it's so hard to describe. I was standing in the heart of the lightning, and I wasn't afraid. It burned around me, but it didn't burn me. It blazed and crackled and whispered to me, murmuring my name and promising me power like I'd never dreamed of. Never. And it came when I called it. The lightning gave me its name and I screamed it to the heavens. "SUPREME THUNDER!" *Jupiter, my guardian . . !* I'll never forget it, the moment I stood unscathed in the first fire that couldn't frighten me. And then there are the memories of events you never witnessed. You know what I mean. No one even describes it to you. No one has to. You can see it perfectly, and no matter how horrible it is, you can never ever erase it from your mind. I can see the flames burning the wreckage. Flaring in the darkness. I can see the plane falling from the sky, hear the guttering of its failing engine, feel the rush of air where no currents should be. Feel the power of the explosion. And though I am untouched, I can still see it. See it tear through their bodies like scissors through unwanted paper dolls, the heat cauterizing the wounds the metal shards open up. Empty metal hulk, never meant to fly, hurled from the skies it dared to violate. Taking its riders to death with it. I see it all. I hear it all. They are dying everywhere, faceless bodies that are burned to nothing, ashes that blow away. Faceless and nameless . . . except as I watch, in my mind, I can see _their_ eyes as they die. Mama . . . Daddy . . . Oh please, don't leave me alone . . . But they are gone, stolen by the plane and the fire. All I have left, the last real memory, is a phone call. "Kino-san, we regret to inform you . . ." They regret to inform me. Me and all the others. I stand in the sparkling blue fire and speak to it. I hold it in my hands and it doesn't burn me. The fire in my memory never burned me . . . But it stole. It left me alone, alone for so long . . . Now I fight beside fire, its very spirit. "FIRE SOUL!" I've been so grateful to hear those words, so many times now, that I can't be afraid. Fire can kill, but I can't afford to cower away. I am strong. People fear me, they know what my fists can do. And they are afraid, even though they don't know that what my open hands can wield is far more deadly. They are respectful to me, always. And so they would never dare to ask me why, when a plane flies overhead, too far away to do any harm, I cringe and close my eyes, and stand frozen until long after the engines' drone has faded away. They don't ask. And they don't know, will never know, that later I will curl up in my bed, in my lonely home, and shake and sob like any lost child. ******************************************************************************** "Visionary"--Hino Rei "What do you see?" That's usually the first question they ask once they get up the nerve. "When you look into the fire, does it . . . you know . . . talk to you?" They're never sure if they believe me or not. What do I see? Nothing. The flames don't bend themselves into pictures. No crackling voices mutter in my ears. I just . . . know. It tells me. Not obedient, fire. It comes when it's called, but that's often the extent of it. "What do you see in it?" "What do you see in her?" That's another common one. I wish people would at least not ask that exactly at the moments I'm ripping my hair out over her! Usagi no baka! Idiot! My best friend, though I'd never confess it. She drives me up the wall! So I yell at her. I've even hit her if she needed it. Then she cries. It doesn't matter if I lash out with my tongue or my hands. I feel so bad, then. She has perfected the art of staring with wide blue eyes, slowly filling with tears. It makes me want to shriek, but she always beats me to it. Yes, I'm hard on you, Usagi! Someone has to be! _Someone_ has to make you live up to your potential. Daughter of the silver moon, so bright in spirit, and all you do is sit around and eat and sleep. Are you a bear preparing to hibernate, or a senshi??!! Choose! But there is no real choice. For our lives, for our world, you must be all that you can be. And so I'll be the one to push you, berate you, lecture you, taunt you, drive you to tears, knock some sense into you. For however long it takes. And one day, my dearest friend, I know I'll look at you . . . and fall to my knees in awe of your majesty. That's what I see in you. Usagi no baka. ******************************************************************************** Mizuno Ami [untitled] Eyes. All staring, all focused on me. Disapproving because I do well, narrowed with anger and jealousy. Whispers, softer than rustling papers, spring up whenever I pass by. I am so alone . . . but always watched. My skin crawls under the weight of these nameless people's distaste. I am forbidden even the comfort of solitude. No, they must watch to see what I'll do. They will have nothing to do with me, but they won't go away! They leave me alone, but barely. They are always there, at the edges of my vision, taunting by their very presence. "Genius", they murmur. "Snob". Occasionally, "Cheat!" That alone makes me want to acknowledge them-- to stand and defend myself. My friends are the books that give me knowledge; I've sacrificed any other friends for them. I am alone. I will remain alone. But I will NOT bear this accusation. Or, I would not, if I had a choice. If there was anyone who knew me well enough to take my part. No tears. I've denied myself their comfort for so long that they no longer try to fall. No anger. No misery. No feeling. Only a dull pain inside . . . with luck it will fade soon too. The heart empties as the mind fills. Slow, welcome process. Who needs them?! I am almost safe. Almost immune. Another day, another year, another change, another new ring of nameless faces and faceless names. Well, I'm ready! I know the tricks, now. They can't hurt me. No one can. The expected whispers come and fall away. They don't hurt--almost. It would have been all right. Except for the cat. It can't hurt to pat a cat, can it? Of course not. Except for its owner. I see her too late. She looks . . . familiar? Not a classmate, but . . . Oh. In the hall. She whispered. Well, actually she said it loud and clear, but . . . I know what she said, and I can see that she knows I know. Blue eyes darken and lower. Is she--embarrassed??? She covers her reaction, but not with more teasing. She introduces the cat and leaves . . . taking me with her. She's a whirlwind! (Is she crazy? Doesn't she know what people will say about her?) A day of firsts. First day in a new school, a new juku. First day in an arcade. The first time I won a game in an arcade! Everyone stared . . . admiring me? First friend. First two-way conversation with a cat. First transformation, first attack. A friend. How odd, that bubbles exploding from my hands didn't faze me half as much as she did. A friend. My friend. Hello Usagi, goodbye quiet life. A whirlwind day. A whirlwind kind of friend. And a little voice in the back of my mind saying that I'll love her forever . . . even when she wants to borrow my homework. ------- Legalities: The characters in these poems were created by Naoko Takeuchi, and are used without permission. 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