Disclaimer:

Sailor Moon belongs to Takeuchi Naoko, the strong song “Ticking” belongs to Elton John. The story, however, is mine.

by April Eagle

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“An extremely quiet child”

They called you in your school report

“He’s always taking interest

in the subjects that he’s taught”

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The day had started like any other day. Yet it was to become completely different from all the other days before. From all the other weeks before. From all the time that I had literally lived in hell.

Hell?

I raise my head and my green eyes look right through the window and beyond.

They need to get cleaned.

That’s my first thought. Strange, at a time like this, at a place like this I think of cleaning the window. However, it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters right now, especially not that bloody window that isn’t even my window. I’ve cleaned my own window at home, almost every week. Almost every day after my whole life had turned out to be a total farce. A joke. No, it’s not my life that had gone completely wrong. It’s me who’s wrong. The idiot. The baka as the others call me. The asshole.

I sigh deeply and close my eyes for the fragment of a moment, but only for a moment. Because if I’d be careless right now it could cost me my life.

Really? Why don’t I lay down? Why don’t I fall asleep right now? In a sleep from which I would never have to wake up again? Why don’t I just die? It would be better. Better for me. Better for them. Better for her. No one would miss me. Not even the rats living in the cellar of our house. No, I’ve said it wrong, again: her house.

I sigh again deeply, remembering how the morning had started.

I got up early. As always. To eat breakfast and to go to school. With them. To hear how they tease me around. In a rude way. In a way I can’t stand any longer. The teacher doesn’t notice their cruel treatment. Not even the classmates. Maybe it’s because I’m good at school. Extremely good. And extremely quiet. I never cause any trouble, try to make myself invisible. I never complain, never laugh or even joke with the others. I never raise my hand to answer a question. Yet, whenever I’m asked by our teacher personally I know the answer. Of course I do. I try to be interested in everything they tell me. This is a strange land, not my land. Not my home. And they let me know how foreign I was, how unwelcomed. She let me know.

Yes, I’ve loved school. There at least I was able to feel free free. There and on the stage, playing my piano. I’ve loved to play my piano, to express my feelings this way. Now, however... I’ve lost that ability, that freedom, somehow. It was only last week that we held an important concert and I missed all the notes. It sounded crazy and totally wrong.

One week. Seven days. 168 hours.10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds. I’ve been always good in maths. I still can calculate such a complicate sum in my head.

I miss the piano so much. The way I miss her.

Yes, I’ve always liked to be at school. There, I was good. There, I was at least someone: an individual, not only a mask, covering the warrior behind. There I could be me.

Today, however, everything had felt completely different. I couldn’t simply walk to school like this. Instead, I told them that I would go to the bathroom and escaped through the opened window. And ran through the city. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing what to think. There was nothing in my mind. Nothing at all. Nothing.

Until...

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At St. Patricks every Sunday, Father Fletcher heard your sins

“Oh, he’s unconcerned with competition, he never cares to win”

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They’ve never liked me. Not at all. They had never cared for me. Not even before the war broke out. An ugly war only we could see. No one else. No one else except that bloody girl. How was her name?

I frown my head and hold the cold steel a little bit higher. The people around only stare at me with big eyes, but thankfully keep quiet. A small child starts to cry.

Ah, right, Sailor Moon, that’s her name. She always looked so friendly, so understanding. Yet, she wasn’t. She didn’t understand my problems. She couldn’t. Of course she couldn’t. No one understood me in my entire bloody life. Not my so called friends, not my family. Not even she did really understand me. Otherwise she would have never left me.

I smile at the memory of an old man looking directly in my pale face. Telling me that I was a good boy. That I should behave nicely so that God would love me.

How wrong had he been. The old priest! He called himself a father, but he wasn’t like one. He never looked beneath the surface of the seemingly well-behaved child. He never saw my problems. He never heard my sins. My real sins. That I wasn’t like the others. That I was different. Completely different. No one noticed my slow change. Not even the people in the audience. They only heard my piano play and thought that I was a cute boy.

Hah! Boy! I’m a girl. Still it seems that no one sees it.

I lower my head for a second and a grin forms on my face. It feels strange. It hurts.

Today they have to see it. I wear that ugly uniform again. That Sailor fuku as they call it. It shows all me female outlines, can’t hide one bit of my female body. God! How I’ve hated that costume - to wear it for our silly mission. A mission that is so terribly late. Too late! We won’t find the treasure. We won’t be able to rescue the world. Not this world. Maybe the next one, but not here and now. Maybe we’ll be more successful in another life.

Of course Sailor Moon believes in her powers and that she can achieve anything. That we could defeat the evil together, united, as one team. She has no idea. She has no imagination of what will come over her. How bad it will be. I know the unthinkable. I’ve seen it before. I still see it in my dreams. Every night. Knowing that the others still see it, too. That she sees it. As clearly as I do. But she denies it. The way I’ve tried to deny it, too. Until it was too late.

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But blood stained a young hand that never held a gun

And his parents never thought of him as their troubled sun

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I look around, stare into all those frightened eyes around me. A small child tries to creep deeper into her mommy’s embrace.

Poor one, she doesn’t know what will await her.

The little girl turns her head and cries even louder as I smile at her.
That’s right, little one. Just cry. Cry it all out. Do what you’ll never be allowed to do in your life when you’re grown up!

I’ve wanted to cry, too. To scream it out loud. To yell at them. To tell her that she shouldn’t leave me. But I couldn’t. I thought that I had to be strong. Just like the others. I was a Sailor senshi, after all, I wasn’t allowed to be weak. We had an important mission to complete. The life of millions of people depended on it.

And our life?

What’s it worth?!

What’s it worth if we could loose it every day? If we had to sacrifice each other? I’m not sure whether I could do that. To sacrifice myself, that’s not the problem. I’ve seen so many people dying in my life, that’s okay. But to sacrifice her... No, I am not able to do that.

I sigh again and walk over to the counter. My voice sounds husky when I order a whisky, pointing with my gun at the waiter. He gulps and does as I tell him. He tries to speak to me, but I won’t listen to him. Instead, I listen to the screams in my head. Now, I hear them almost on a daily basis. At the beginning I thought I could live with them... but now...

I thank him for the whisky and drink it all in one gulp. I’ve never been allowed to drink alcohol at home. Strange... my father had always been dead drunk. Every evening. Whenever he came back from work. Must have been a silly boss who liked him or never noticed his alcohol problem for the firm kept him regardless his incompetence. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Instead, I’ve left my parents as soon as possible. To take over my task as Sailor senshi. When my queen called me. No one knew how hard it had been for me at this place someone else would have called “home”. My mother had always tried to hold up the facade and my father had loved me. Oh... how he had loved me. Hard and long.

I put the whiskey away and light a cigarette.

She told me to stop smoking. That it could kill me. I’ve actually tried to stop – for her. Then she left me and broke my heart. Just like my parents broke it when I was younger.

Well... now they’re dead. They will never hurt me again. Never. A tragic accident as I tell people here at school. But it wasn’t an accident. They got killed. Killed by enemies. By enemies I have to fight against right now. It’s a pity. A real pity. I wish I could have been the one killing them, but my enemies had been faster.

Shall I really fight against the ones who freed me?

Free? Am I free?

I have no idea. I light my second cigarette and watch the smoke slowly floating through the already thick air. It’s always so smoky in those bars. It’s alike where you are in this big city, it’s always like that. Normally I can’t stand it. My eyes start to tear and my nose is red and my throat dry. But today isn’t normal. This day is anything than normal.

This is my last day.

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They had you holed up in a downtown bar screaming for a priest

Some gook said “His brains just snapped” then someone called the police

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I have no idea why, but I know for sure that I will die today. That’s good. That’s great. Then this torture will end, at last. This hell will end. And even if I’ll end up in hell as Father Fletcher always told me where bad girls go, it can’t be worse than this one. It simply can’t be.

“Hey, is there a priest somewhere? I want to talk to a priest!” I start suddenly to yell. I’m really surprised to hear me actually saying those words. The other people must be surprised, too.

But, hell, when I am dying I want to pray to God for the very last time in my existence. To tell him to fuck off. He had never been there when I needed him the most. He’s not even around right now. No, he’s never been with me in my darkest hours; and there had been many. He’s an imagination. A fucking illusion. Bullshit. Maybe he’s there for rich people. For famous people. But he’s not for people like me. Not for freaks. Not for me who commit the most cardinal sin every day: I lived.

“His brain’s just snapped.”

Someone whispers behind my back. I don’t turn around. I only raise my gun a little bit higher and the voice dies away quickly. My grin grows wider. Yup, that’s what I call authority. Fucking authority. Now I am the strong one. No longer the weak one!

But that guy is right. Damned, he’s so fucking right! My brain snapped. That’s clear. Of course it did.

Now I give in the irresistible desire to giggle and they all look really oddly at me. But no one dares to say another word. The cold steel in my hands sparkles in the warm sunlight and I feel simply great.

Not as bad as I had felt only yesterday.

When they humiliated me for the very last time. When she simply went away. Without saying another word. Without any regret in her voice. Without any love any longer in her deep eyes. Eyes I thought I could drown in. Hell, I’ve loved her so much!

No wonder that my brain snapped.

She was the love of my life. My one and only true love When I saw her for the first time I thought, no, that can’t be. She’s a girl. A beautiful girl. And you... what are you? A bloody piano player! Having nightmares, being haunted by them. Trying to save the world by finding the treasure.

But she understood. At least she behaved as if she would understand. She soon became my best friend. We’ve spent so many nice afternoons together. So many fantastic nights. She surprised me almost every day and suddenly there was someone in my life who seemed to like me the way I was.

I curse silently and tears fill my eyes, but they don’t come from the smoke.

I’ve loved her so much. NO, shit! I still love her. I will always love her. Because she was my destiny. The one and only partner for me. My soul mate. Destined by fate.

For almost three weeks we were the best friends. Then slowly, very slowly we became lovers. At first I thought that this couldn’t be true, that it wouldn’t be happening. That she wasn’t like me. That she wasn’t a lesbian. A bloody dyke. Yet she loved me the way I was. Then, I hadn’t been a virgin any longer; still she was my first woman. And my first real love. Suddenly, the world seemed brighter and I felt as happy as I hadn’t felt before in my entire life.

I smile in thoughts, but my shoulders fall down in defeat the next moment.

I thought I could spend my life with her. All my life. Growing old with her. I even thought of children. Until she left me. It had been only yesterday, but for me it seems as if I’ve lost her a bloody eternity ago. I still remember her words, shit, I will never forget them. They’ll tortue me until the end of my days. Lucky for me that they’ll end today.

She only took her bag and said that she couldn’t stay any longer. That she didn’t want to live with someone she might have to sacrifice every day. She told me that she felt something bad, something wicket coming crashing down on us soon. She’s always felt things and mostly they really happened. Therefore, she simply took her bag and ran away. Leaving me behind. Broken. Alone again. Unable to go on living.

You coward!

“I wanna see a priest!”

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You knifed a Negro waiter who had tried to calm you down

Oh, you’d pulled a gun and told them all to lay still on the ground

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They don’t want to give me a priest. Although I believe that they have enough phones outside to call one. I stare again through the dirty window and see them: all those nice police men in their nice cars. I can see the blue light reflected in the class’ reflection.

“Hey, be nice, okay? Calm yourself down.”

I hear the quiet voice next to me. I turn around and look at the waiter. The one who gave me the whisky. He smiles at me. Understanding. Nicely. Friendly. But for me it’s merely a mask. For me it’s the most ugliest grin I’ve ever seen before. Well, not the most ugliest grin per se, but he could easily compete with my father.

“Please...”

I don’t hear his plea, but I hear his laughter behind the words. I hear him laughing at me! The same way they all had laughed at me. The freak. The dyke. The stupid jerk. The best joke on earth.

“Please...”

Suddenly he holds a knife in his hands. I feel how panic grows inside me.

Nani?

Don’t I want to die? Don’t I want him to kill me? Don’t I want this suffering pain to end? Don’t...

It’s over before I could think anything more. I feel how I lean over to him. Quickly. How I grab his knife. How I pull it around and push it against him. He won’t hurt me. No, he won’t!

Then he lies on the ground. In a red lake. A lake of blood. His own blood. He groans for one last time and then he’s dead. He’s not only unconscious. He’s dead. I know it. I’ve seen so many people dying, so many corpses in my life, I know how death looks like.

It looks like me.

I lower my head and stare at my hands, still holding the gun tight. They’re dirty now. They’re red. They’re blood-stained. Of his blood.

What have I done?

I don’t know. All I know is that he won’t hurt me any more. That no one will hurt me any more. Not my father, not the queen with her silly mission, not her. My girlfriend. My love. The one who left me alone.

It’s not her fault. I know that she didn’t go voluntarily. Maybe some day she’ll find someone else who loves her the way I’ve loved her. Maybe some day she’ll find someone who deserves her. Someone who’s not like me. Not at all...

I realize that I am still staring at my hands. I clear my throat and look around and stare directly into frightened child eyes.

So, little one, now you know how the world works.

It’s either your or them

You kill or you are killed.

You watch them die or you are dead.

You laugh or all people will laugh at you.

You live or you simply jump. From a high bridge. From a tower. From an open window.

I’ve tried that once. It didn’t work. I survived.

It’s a fucking life. And now, little one, you know the truth. I can see it in your eyes, you understand the cruelty of it.

Don’t you?

I grin again and wipe away the blood from my hands. This had never been my best shirt. I hate this suit. I hate my school uniform. I simply hate it. And now it’s dirty. No one will wash it again. I don’t need it any more. I will never wear it again.

Thanks heaven for that. At least for that.

Well, little girl...

Now you know the truth.

Don’t you?

Don’t you?

Don’t you?

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Promising to hurt no-one, providing they were still

A young man tried to make a break, with tear-filled eyes you killed

That gun butt felt so smooth and warm cradled in your palm

Oh, your childhood cried out in your head: “They mean to do you harm”

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Then she starts to cry again. I can’t watch small children cry. They always remind me of myself. When I was her age I had cried a lot, too. When my father hit me. When mother only turned her head away. When he killed my pet. When all this stuff happened...

But I can’t watch her cry. I don’t know why, but I can’t. I simply can’t.

“Be quiet and nothing will happen to you.” I promise them and try to get more blood off my dirty hands. To hide it in my clothes. In my jacket. But it doesn’t help. Finally, I strip it and simply throw it to the ground.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just be nice and quiet.”

But they aren’t quiet. They aren’t nice. Not to me. No, they had never been nice. It’s an illusion to think they cared. No one ever wanted me. Not even my girlfriend.

No... my ex-girlfriend.

My love...

“What’s up, lad? What’s up with you?”

I turn around and face the young man standing up from his kneeling position. He smiles at me, but it’s a mean smile. He seems to be amused. About me? Surely.

Lad?

Is he blind? I am a girl! I am a real woman!

Lad?!

I wear my Sailor fuku under my school uniform and he doesn’t see that I am girl?

Lad!!

Can’t he see my breasts? My female outlines? My hips?

I gulp and tears sparkle in my eyes. They newer saw it. Not at school. Not even on the stage. I played the piano, was the cute boy. Even when I was allowed to sing they didn’t notice my gender. My voice was a little bit lower and darker than a normal woman’s voice, but, hell, wasn’t it obvious??

No. It wasn’t...

The young man spreads his arms and comes over to me. I have no idea what I yell, but I know that I try to warn him. That he should stop moving, that he should freeze, instantly. That I would shoot if he wouldn’t freeze. Right now!

But he doesn’t stop. He’s coming nearer. Certainly with only one aim in his mind: to hurt me. As they all had done all of my life. Surely he wants to humiliate me. As they all had done so mockingly. Surely to laugh over me. As they all had done so loudly.

They mean to do you harm.

Again, I hear my little brother’s voice in my head. It’s high and innocent. But so full with fear and terror. It’s coming from a far distance. It’s coming right from my childhood.

My little brother. I’ve loved you so much.

Alas, he had to die too soon.

Because I couldn’t help him. Couldn’t protect him. Couldn’t save him.

“No! Stop!” I cry out loud in desperation, but still the young man doesn’t stop. What does he think he is? Superman? A hero with supernatural powers?

But he is no superman. He has no body of steel. But I have a weapon of steel. I’m stronger. He won’t beat me like all the others have done. He won’t!

I pull the trigger and the shot lets me stumble. He opens his eyes wide and stares blankly at me. Not really believing that I really did it. That I really shot at him.

Hah!

That’s not what you’ve expected, is it?

That’s not what my father had ever expected. What a shame that someone else killed him. Not I.

That’s not what anyone had ever expected from me. Me, the coward, the freak, the dyke, the silent sinner: shooting at someone. Showing strength. Showing courage. Showing that I’ve reached the limit.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand this life any longer.

Someone had to pay.

So he had.

I feel tears running down my cheeks as I watch him slowly falling down to the ground. He’s dead, as well. Just like the waiter. But he deserves it, because he tried to do me harm. To hurt me. To beat me.

They all deserved it!

All!

But why the hell am I crying, then?

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Oh, they pleaded to your sanity for the sake of those inside

“Throw down your gun, walk out slow - just keep your hands held high”

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“Come out! You have no chance!”

The voice let me wince. I turn around and stare out of the window. The police men are excited now. Alarmed. Desperate. Of course they are. Certainly, they had heard the shots. Certainly, they know now what I’m capable of. What I had done: that I had killed two people.

That I had actually killed...

“Throw down your gun, walk out slow – just keep your hands held high!”

Again that voice. It’s low and sounds a little bit like a father. No, not like my father. But the father I’ve always wished to have had. A nice old man who would understand me. Who would love me. With all consequences.

I glance down at my blood-stained hands and at my body.

That is not my body any longer.

Those are not my hands any longer.

That is not my soul any longer.

Nothing is left over from me. Nothing. Nothing...

I raise my head again as I hear the silent sob. I stare again directly into frightened eyes. Of the eyes of a very frightened child.

Now you know that life is only bullshit!

Better you’ll die. Then you won’t have to suffer all this pain!

I raise the gun again, but I can’t do it. I simply can’t deliver her. Life is indeed an endless suffering terror. A pain that won’t stop, no matter what you try. However, those weeks with her, with my love, with the most important person in my life had been worth it. All the pain. All the fear. All the desperation. Everything.

You should feel this love, too, little one.

Even if it’s just for the split of a second. Even if it’s just for one moment. Even if it’s just for one single night.

It’s worth it.

But the rest is not.

No, not at all.

Slowly, I put my gun down. Almost carefully. I don’t want to hurt this child. Maybe I’d like to kill her mother, but not her. She’s too small. Too innocent. Even after all she has seen during the past hour.

Children are a gift of god.

Something I’ve never been.

Never in my life.

“They didn’t even give me a priest.” I whisper and shrug my shoulders. I drink one last gulp whiskey, right out of the bottle.

Never.

Then I step out of the smoky restaurant somewhere in the city of Tokyo.

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But they pumped you full with rifle shells as you stepped out the door

Oh, you danced in death like a marionette on the vengeance of the law

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“I fear you have to identify her.” The police man looked sadly at the two young men and gulped when he saw the fear flickering in their eyes. “It’s the rule.”

“I know.” The older one grabbed the book he was holding tighter in his hands. They trembled visibly. Tears sparkled in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. Certainly, he was too shocked. Or he simply couldn’t believe what had happened. What he was about to do. What he was about to see

The other young man, he was smaller and surely younger, didn’t look so calm. Tears were running over his shrunken cheeks, meeting no resistance. Repeatedly, he shook his head in disbelieve.

“That’s not true, officer. I know him... em... her. She would never do such a silly thing.” He tried to explain, but the police man only lead them over to the bodies. He was silent and very, very sad. He didn’t want to shoot the girl. She had been so young, so beautiful. She had all her life before her. Just like the other victims.

It’s so unfair!

Yet he had to do it to save the other captives. To save the child.

“No, it can’t be. Listen, officer, that’s a big misunderstanding. My friend would never do such a crazy thing. She’s quiet and responsible and nice.”

Quiet.
Extremely quiet.

That’s what they all are.

“It’s simply my duty.” The police man tried to apologise and pulled the white blanket away that covered the person who ran amok. “Is that her?”

The book fell down and the taller man turned away, his eyes wide open. He stumbled some steps before he went on his knees and vomited violently.

“No!” The younger man started to yell. He knelt down next to the dead and took the girl in his arms, not noticing the blood dirtying his red suit. “No! That can’t be...” he stammered out loud and more tears ran over his face. Fiercely, he shook his head. Not believing what had happened. Not accepting that his best friend was dead. Not understanding why this tragedy had to happen.

“No...” he lowered his head and broke down. “Yaten...”

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“You’ve slept too long in silence” Mama said

Remember Mama said

Ticking, ticking

Hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking.

Ticking.

Ticking...

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written: 11th June 2001

republished: 2nd June 2008

I’ve found this old fanfiction on my computer and thought I could reread and finally publish it on ffnet. Originally, I had it online on an exclusive Haruka&Michiru website (which is, sadly, long dead) and many readers there thought that I wrote about Haruka and were very surprised when the I-narrator turned out to be Yaten in the end (although I thought that I put enough hints into the story).

It’s definitely my most weird and dark story.