Hello fellow Sailor Moon fans! I actually wrote this before anything else, even though I haven't posted it until now. You could say this takes place an evening after a battle somewhere in the rainbow crystals arc of the first season.
DISCLAIMERS: Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko. No profit is being made here. Please don't sue me...my parents wouldn't take it very well. Also, I borrowed an idea from a Valentines Day story by Sue Mei about the "Auntie" that visited Serena/Usagi at night and talked to her. Sorry Sue Mei, I tried to email you for permission but you didn't respond. You have got to read her work! Sue Mei, Razzz, Fushigi Kismet, Ice Empress, Alicia Blade and Kathryn are the coolest writers in the Sailor Moon world. Quistis Treppe, and Sailor X are great too. Read their stories, then e-mail them and convince them to write more! They don't all know me--actually, only three do-- but I'm a big fan of their stuff. Besides that, this story is my creation, and any resemblance to actual people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. (I love saying that!) Please ask me if you want to use any part of my fic.
Well, here it is: my first story. I waited a while to post it anywhere. I hope you like it, because I enjoyed writing it. If you like listening to music while you read stories, then I suggest: (in order) "Uninvited" by Alanis Morissette from the 'City of Angels' soundtrack; "Tears of Pearls" by Savage Garden; "Barely Breathing" by Duncan Sheik; or "Kissed By a Rose" by Seal from the 'Batman Forever' soundtrack. Please anyone send comments, praise or criticisms, to email@example.com PLEASE!!!
NOTE: yadayada means thinking to yourself, like talking to a mirror.
Reflections of a Young Soul
He rescued me again tonight.
Its funny, but he's never been in the thick of a fight before the exact moment I that needed him. But at the same time, I feel like I never go into battle alone. It's like he's always there, waiting, watching from the shadows, only revealing his presence when I'm at risk. Now that I think about it, he's never had to rescue the other scouts, not even once. Luna, if she were here, would tell me that's because they're better fighters, but sometimes I wonder if it's more than that. Stop kidding yourself Serena, he does it out of responsibility or something, the reasonable part of my mind tells me. He never says anything to you besides to be more careful, or to tell you how to kill the youma. I sigh.
I actually think it's some warped, self-imposed duty, and probably not really because he likes me, either, as much as I'd like to think so. Luna says that he could be the enemy, but I disagree. Oh, he's different all right- he's not a scout-- but he's not an enemy either. To think so would be doing him an injustice. I know all about it, and comparing anyone to one of ^Them^, especially someone who has proved his loyalty as often as he has, is a cruel thing to say, much more cruel than he deserves.
I don't know why he always comes, but everyday I am thankful for it, more than anyone realizes.
They think I'm a coward and a crybaby, but I'm not. Well, not a coward, anyway. I know how to fight, as much as it would surprise them. That's one thing not even Luna knows about. I remember the pretty lady who used to visit me at night. She always wore black, and called me Little Princess. She showed me how to do my hair in the style I always where it now. She taught me to fight, young as I was, saying that one day I'd need to use my skills to fight the bad ones, the ones who hurt people. She stopped coming when my brother Sammy was born. Yes, I know how to fight, but I don't relish in knowing, and I don't think I ever will. The others, Raye; Amy; Lita; they fight with a passion, but I live with a passion. Life, that's all I've ever wanted. I don't need the magic, the battles, the pain, and the inevitable tears that come with this job. Just let me live, and that's enough. A life with my friends, and my family. A life where I can go to school, get detention if I want, go shopping, and have crushes on boys.
Boys. Melvin, the poor, honest-hearted nerd who I've tried so unsuccessfully to avoid becoming his crush; cheerful Andrew, my latest crush; and...Darien. Darien. The one person in this world that I love to hate. He teases me, and I insult him, because that's how it works. I guess it's some kink in the works of fate that makes me bump into him almost everyday, literally.
I think that maybe if he had been nice to me, it would be him I spent my time chasing after, not his friend Andrew. I mean, with eyes like his, who wouldn't? In fact, sometimes the only reason I bother with Andrew at all is because I know it irritates Darien. I haven't quite figured out why yet, my flirting bugging Darien so much, that is. God knows Andrew's to obsessed with his own girlfriend to even take notice. My thoughts wander back to Darien again. I have to say I've never seen anyone with eyes like his before. They're not just a plain sky blue like mine are, but dark and stormy. His eyes are just like the ocean, an ocean of secrets that is, and sometimes just so intense that I have to look away, for fear of the things I might find in them.
Secrets, that word seems to be Darien's essence. He keeps himself apart, never really opening to people. I heard from his friend in a passing comment that his parents died when he was just a kid, and he's been alone since then. I guess that's what intrigues me about him. He's so independent, like he doesn't need anyone, and wouldn't care much if he died tomorrow. But his childhood was only one of his secrets, and I know he has many. No one knows it, but I've made it my mission to find out about him. What he does, what he wants, if anything, and if he's always as cold to everyone else as he is to me. To find out how someone so perfect can be so alone. He doesn't even have a girlfriend, which is strange because of his perfect model-like features and lean, muscular frame. I know he dated Raye a couple times of times, but she told me that, no matter how much she wanted it, it didn't work out; he was too hard to reach.
I saw him smile once. Just once. It was just one of those nothing days, when I had walked to the arcade after school. Darien had been leaning on the counter talking to Andrew. I had frowned when I saw him, expecting another name-calling match, only to have it fade away without a second thought as I saw something so amazing that my world as I knew it came to a sudden, screeching halt. He was...smiling. Darien; cold, cruel, and uncaring Darien was smiling at some joke of Andrew's. I remember turning and leaving, neither of them having even noticed that I had been there, and continuing walking home, still shocked at seeing the most amazing smile in the world for the first time.
I've never seen him smile again since. I wonder if I ever will. Oh, he smirks whenever he wins an argument about my hairstyle or my klutziness, but it isn't the same.
Oh well, we're too different, and I'd never be able to get along with him unless he gave up his obsession with teasing my hair, and maybe I stopped despising him every time I see him. It's funny, that. Whenever I meet him, all I can think about is how mean he is and how I wanted to get back at him, but at times like this when I'm all alone in my room I can't seem to remember what is about him that I disliked so much. My thoughts seem to keep going back to his gorgeous blue eyes and that silky blacker-than-black hair and the way his bangs always seem to fall into his face and how he has to brush them back with his hand about every thirty seconds and---Okay Serena, back to reality. He hates you, and you hate him. I nod to myself. Right. That's how it was, and how it would always be. That was easy; that was safe.
And as I lay myself back down on my bed, I try to forget all about boys, battles, and planetary magic and focus on sleep, and the peace it brings.
But still, as I'm drifting off, a tiny tendril of thought creeps in my mind, and I wonder if I'll ever see him smile at *me* like that....
End (for now)
Thank you so much to anyone who read it. Comments are welcome: firstname.lastname@example.org.