AfterLife
A Sailormoon Fanfiction
By Azurite
I don't own Sailormoon, the song that inspired this, or the incredibly original concept for a lyric wheel.

Rated W for WEIRDNESS (Kinda dark... I dunno...I'm in a freaky mood.)

It wasn't so much awareness that was lacking, it was knowledge. He was aware of himself, that was for sure. He was walking, moving as if carried by some invisible current. He could feel the slightest of chills brush the clothing against his body, goosebumps rippling up his arms and down his legs.

But he couldn't place the texture. And everything was dark. It felt cold, though the simple conclusion he'd drawn from his surroundings wasn't much. He felt as if he'd just awakened, yet was still detached from the world around him. Simple
conclusions based on what slight things he could sense were all he could manage.

Bit by bit, things came back to him-- that brightness was called 'light' and that the lack of it was called 'dark.' But it wasn't being able to sense these things that gave him this knowledge, it was just there.

Knowledge that had always existed within his mind, yet was locked away, sealed by some secret force or barrier. Now it had returned, but the understanding that came with it was lacking.

He knew what LIGHT and DARK were, yet he didn't know how they seemed. How they appeared, or anything of the sort. Only vaguely could he discern... it was cold... and... wet?

I don't feel a thing
and I stopped remembering
The days are just like moments turned to hours

If he'd been carried by this unseen current for any period of time -if there even WAS time, wherever he was- he couldn't sense it. He was dimly aware of feelings that itched at the back of his mind-- something called DROWSINESS and HUNGER. But he didn't know what those were, didn't know how they felt.

They didn't SOUND good, whatever they were.

So he let himself be carried, his senses giving him his only impression of this world he could not see. He had no idea how he'd gotten here, but it wasn't PAINFUL, he supposed... so perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing.

Yet, there was a sharp pang when he thought that... that there was something missing. Something... someone?

Mother used to say
if you want, you'll find a way
But mother never danced through fire shower

There was an emptiness that was only inside... it was quite unlike the awareness he got of his surroundings... the lack of what he imagined to be light, the cool breeze with no real direction, and the slow, drifting movement of whatever force
carried him.

What was this feeling? He wanted to know... desired to know. This emptiness grew in intensity, and images of painful things filled his mind. Knives, blood, tentacles of demons... what an odd combination.

Where were these images coming from? Was this... color? This red... this shining gold? This blue?

The wetness was coming down in pellets now, and the sense of an emotion arose in him. It was like a tickling bubble inside him, caught in his throat and unwilling to come up. This was... what was the word? Annoyance?

He wanted to sink beneath the currents that carried him, ignore the pelleting water. But the feeling of emptiness, this curiousity regarding the colors he'd seen... outweighed the annoyance.

It suddenly occurred to him that all the could do was feel. He could feel cold, feel wet, and feel annoyed-- yet he couldn't see the water dropping on him, nor hear it splash against the seemingly thick waves that carried him without destination.

Bile rose in his throat as more emotions swept over him-- aside from the stabbing emptiness, and the quirking annoyance, there was a deep-set feeling of stillness-- the need to remain in this one place... by... by one's side?

He leaned back, letting the current caress him, the wet from the rain soaking his clothes to his skin. The emotions washed into him, as the waves soaked into his clothes, then receeded away as if they'd never been. Still, he was carried on, to a place with no real destination.

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Is it right or is it wrong
and is it here that I belong?

There was the feeling of uncomfortableness... like this wasn't where he was supposed to be. Hand in hand with the annoyance and the emptiness, he felt that there was somewhere else he should be, and that when he gathered enough sense, he'd be able to make his way back there.

Right?

I don't hear a sound
Silent faces in the ground
The quiet screams, but I refuse to listen

Then, he moved.

Raised his hands to his face, touching his lips, his nose, his cheeks, then his eyes. And as though someone had tied weights to his eyelids, he opened them slowly. A greyness flickered there, lingering for a moment. Darkness had swallowed him, surrounded him entirely, and then slowly slipped away, as if someone with arthritis was pulling the dripping veil of dark from his eyes.

And splotches began to appear above him, hovering in his line of sight, yet shifting in and out of existence like clouds made of quissentence. Whatever he was looking up at --here, in this nameless realm-- it had no ceiling. There was no end to anything in any direction.

Another feeling-- fear? That he would be trapped here, never moving? Yet, if he was meant to be here, then why would he feel frightened?

Unless...

Unless he wasn't meant to be here?

Then he convulsed, absolutely terrified by this thought. He thrashed in the water, the soothing currents gone as a wave washed over his face and tried to force him down beneath its waves again.

He gasped, coughing up water, as he tried to restore his vision. Literally swimming blind, he paddled through the currents of something he couldn't entirely sense. The currents were angered with him now, determined to bring him back to their depths, even if they couldn't be calm to do so.

Struggling to outsmart a force that, by all rights, shouldn't have consciousness, he groped through the enemy, until something soft and stable met the tips of his fingers. He fumbled, crawling up onto what felt like soft grass... and the waters receded, pulling away as his feet touched the ground.

As he collapsed face first into the mud, spent, another awareness assailed him... smell.

A purely repugnant scent...

If there is a hell
I'm sure this is how it smells
Wish this were a dream, but no, it isn't

It suddenly occurred to him that this was very real. Never had he had a dream -for that was what his mind insisted that all things impossible were- that had such a vile smell, or such a vague meaning.

What of the strange river that carried him, wiping his memories away, his senses, his very awareness? What had it done to him?

Where was he-- this place with no light, yet no dark? This place with rain, and a thick, bottomless river... yet a muddy bank to wash up upon, that not even the waters of the raging river would touch?

A thought: was he dead?

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Am I right or am I wrong
and is it here that I belong

It felt wrong to think such a thing. But it made perfect sense. The man didn't know a thing about who he was, where he was, or the new emotions, senses, and awareness that assaulted his fragile mind. All that existed was survival... a primal need to keep going, to continue, to be steadfast, strong, and true... for...

For whom?

Someone... blue, and gold, red and silver, all at the same time? Someone who filled the emptiness, quelled the annoyance, and soothed his fears?

Who was this person?

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Why do I feel so alone
For some reason I think of home

And the man stumbled to his feet, walking towards the clouded vision of etherealness... of silver and gold, of red and blue. The colors meshed and formed a single body, an entity that looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"You're finally here." She said, in a melodious voice that echoed off the wall-less place.

"I've been waiting." She said, smiling. He looked her over, and suddenly his lips quirked up in appreciation. He smiled... an odd, yet pleasant feeling. She laughed quietly, and turned, her dry, white dress swirling around her ankles. She took his hand and began to lead him to a place much lighter, where the vortex of water, and the slight sound it made as it receded into the distance was disappearing.

"I... I belong here. With... with you."

"You always are with me, Mamo-chan. Always."


;; Ahh, that was weird. I had no idea how to use this song until last minute, thinking 'dude, this would go perfect with a death fic.' I know, kind of depressing, but I was wondering what happened to Mamoru between Galaxia stealing his
star seed and his corpse being used as an evil entity to fight Sailormoon.

This is my twisted, last minute answer to that.

Does it fit the revelations theme? I sort of thought it did at the end, but eh. It's up to you. I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was a bit weird (I'm a bit weird, get used to it. ;).
Oh my submission? Uhm... I think it was called "Illusions," from El Hazard. I was desperate to find something that fit the theme of 'revelations,' and so I picked that. Sorry to whoever got stuck with that...

But whoever picked "Rain," this song rules!

Azurite