[mirage] seen by Ducky mirage (mi räzh') n. an optical illusion, caused by the refraction of light, in which a distant object appears nearby blinding white light (‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’) pulsing warmth |the ginzuishou| pure power (‘Here.’) (‘Take it.’) [final act] [act 11: idealization // begin] It felt vaguely familiar. Like a note he had heard in some song before. Long ago. Taking the form of sunlight. A summer breeze. A mother’s voice. ‘Daisuke!’ He turned. A young boy. ‘Daisuke!’ His mother’s voice. How long had it been since he’d heard his name in that tone? A laugh he almost didn’t recognize as his own. As if he was seeing this, feeling this all for the first time. So long ago. Candy blue sky. Marshmallow clouds. Blue and white swirling together as she picked him up and spun them both around, her laughter melding with his. Light, like the birds flying by. They lost balance and they fell with a puff of yellow onto the flower laden ground. Giggling at each other’s now pollen streaked clothes. So long ago. And suddenly he realized why it was so familiar. (‘It’s because you lived this.’) (Feeling Usagi’s eyes on him.) (Seeing it for the first time from a third person point of view.) (He and Usagi standing just several feet away from the scene.) Mother and son, shrieking in laughter as they added stripes and spots to each other’s clothes, tickling, tumbling. (‘This is your memory.’) (My ... memory...?) (Usagi watched the young man next to her.) (Golden brown eyes staring at the scene in wonder.) (The beginnings of a smile edging at his lips.) (Awed remembrance.) A sudden wind whipped the hat his mother wore into the air. The boy ran for it, trying to catch the speeding straw hat, pollen flying from his body as he flew. (‘Hai, Daisuke.’) (Aren’t we still in the Ideal?) His mother had followed, scooped him up as she came up beside him, both of them giggling, yelling breathlessly for “hat-san” to stop. (‘These are your memories.’) (Isn’t this something I made?) The sun so warm against them, as if the pollen they were covered in soaked in the light. The wind pushing them along. (‘This is something you lived.’) (It has to be.) (Because nothing I’ve made ...) Mother reached out with one fine hand, white against the yellow pollen. She lost her balance, sending them tumbling through the grass again, finally catching the hat with gasping laughter and dirty, pollen streaked hands. (... nothing I’ve made has ever felt like this.) |it was easy to see through your lies| (He whirled on her.) (Eyes flashing. Confused. Afraid.) |it wasn’t a lie. it was your dream.| (‘Why are you showing me this?!?’) |it wasn’t real| (She stood calmly. So calm it unnerved him.) |therefore| (‘I’m not doing anything.’) |it was a lie| (The ginzuishou.) (It appeared in his hands at the thought.) (The scene before them changed.) A bedroom, filled with toys, patterned wallpaper, books, stuffed animals. Mother drew the curtains closed, hiding the moon as the boy settled into his bed. My bed. My mother. My memory. (‘Why is it showing me this?’) (Helpless) ‘Daisuke, would you like to choose a story to read?’ (Torn between wanting to remember ... ) A little boy, wide eyed, his head nodding fervently. (... and wanting to forget.) ‘That one!’ (She watched him watch himself.) (‘Isn’t this what you dream of?’) (‘Happiness?’) A gentle smile warmed his mother’s voice as she spoke of once upon a time, weaving a tale of heroes that triumphed, villains punished, and happy endings. (‘Love?’) (She drew closer.) (‘The ginzuishou is just trying to remind you how they truly feel.’) (‘And that they are already within your grasp.’) (Gently laying a hand on his shoulder.) (‘You don’t have to create anything new.’) The book closed, the boy’s eyes following suit. Mother smiled, tucked the blankets gently around him, a whisper of a kiss and goodnight. (The scene faded.) (He shrugged off her hand.) (‘Why don’t you show the rest?’) (Usagi blinked.) (‘What?’) (But he was not looking at her.) (His eyes were on the crystal.) (‘Why don’t you show her leaving?’) (His voice rising. Body shaking.) (‘Why don’t you show how she left me?’) (‘How she left me alone, how she left me with _him_?’) (‘Daisuke...’) (‘WHY DON’T YOU SHOW WHAT HE DID TO ME?!?!’) (Screaming.) (‘Why don’t you show how no one asked about the bruises or the casts, how kids at school just laughed and made everything worse!’) (‘Teasing, hitting ...’) (‘Leaving me alone.’) (His hands clenched tightly around the ginzuishou.) (Usagi stared.) (Stunned.) (‘Why don’t you show how not even Sailor Moon came to help me?’) (His eyes, gold with hatred.) (Burning into her own.) (‘You say you fight for love and justice. But where were you when _I_ needed help?’) (A harsh, hoarse whisper.) (Usagi opened her mouth. Tried to speak.) (‘WHERE WERE YOU?!?’) (But there was nothing she could say.) (He quieted. Desperate. Pained.) (‘This is the only thing I have. This Ideal.’) (‘This is the only place I can be happy.’) (Beyond him, the clothes painted an image. A hospital bed. A fragile body – his body – bandaged, wired, sleeping.) (But not.) (Alive, but barely.) (‘Why can’t you just let me be happy here?’) (Just give me this one thing.) (Why couldn’t she understand?) (Usagi slowly shook her head.) (‘I can’t.’) (As gently as she could.) (‘You’re killing people.’) (He roared.) (‘They deserved it! They left me alone!’) (She pleaded.) (‘You can still be happy without killing people. You can be happy without the Ideal.’) (‘You said it yourself:’) (‘Nothing you’ve made has ever felt like the happiness you felt in your memories.’) (‘No matter how you dream it, it still won’t be real.’) (He shook his head, dejected.) (‘It doesn’t matter.’) (‘She’s gone. Everyone’s gone.’) |they all went away| (‘I’ll never have that again.’) (Happiness.) the sun so warm against them (Love.) |you can’t save everyone, usagi| (She laid a hand again on his shoulder.) But I can try (Refusing to give up.) (Wasn’t shrugged off.) (Spoke softly.) (‘Maybe you can’t have exactly what you had before. But you can find happiness again.’) (‘You have to believe it.) (‘You have to fight for it.) (‘And most importantly ...’) (‘You have to live for it.’) (His eyes closed. Tired.) (‘I’ve tried. Look where that’s gotten me.’) (Comatose in a hospital bed.) (Forgotten.) (Alone.) (Barely alive.) (‘It doesn’t work.’) (She lifted his chin. Crystal blue into golden brown.) (‘So try again.’) (She held out her hand.) (‘Don’t be scared.’) (Small smile. Not unlike when it all began.) (‘I’ll help you.’) The silence was suffocating. Rain lingered from the storm, the lights still not restored after going out hours ago. They sat in darkness. The six of them. Waiting. Always waiting. Then. The door opened, a gunshot that rang out throughout the room. They all heard it. Waited. Michiru. In the darkness, they could barely make out her features. But they knew it was her. They couldn't see her face. Breathing was suddenly a problem. For all of them. She lifted her eyes. Met each of their gazes. 'I ...' Her voice suddenly caught in her throat, emotion overtaking her. ‘I’m sorry.’ Ocean blue tried to blink back tears brought on by the mere sight of them, overwhelmed as she stood there in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry we took so long.’ And on cue, perfectly on cue, Haruka entered into the proverbial spotlight. But what captured their audience’s rapt attention was not their presence, but the presence of the girl sprawled limply across Haruka’s back. Snoring. It was the most beautiful sight they’d ever seen. Gasps and muffled sobs followed Haruka as she crossed the room towards Mamoru’s tensely still figure. Frozen. Disbelieving. Haruka stopped just in front of him. His face was calm. But his eyes betrayed him. He had been tricked once before. Tell me this is real. Saying it made it real. But she said nothing. Only shifted her shoulders, Mamoru’s arms unconsciously, instinctively lifting to meet hers. To meet her. For a long moment, no one breathed. Mamoru let her weight settle in his arms, let her warmth seep into his veins as he simply watched her, watched her breathe, watched her eyes flutter in sleep. Knowing the difference. Felt it inside. I don’t want to be alone. A shudder went through him. Emotions pulled his face as he visibly fought for control of his entire self, refusing to break down, not here, not – ‘Mamo-chan ...’ Now. ‘Mamo-chan?’ It was barely a whisper. Yet, it was all it took to break him, sobs and pure emotion screwing his face as he nodded jerkily, tears spilling over his cheeks, his nose, his mouth, blurring his vision of deep blue he had not seen in days. ‘Hai, Usako.’ He saw her hand, shaking, come into his line of sight. Watched it, followed it, felt it pressing against his cheek. His eyes closing in gasped reflex. ‘Tell me this isn’t a dream.’ Pleading. Mamoru opened his eyes, caught her hand with his own, kissed her open palm. Both shaking. Both crying. Together. ‘No, Usako.’ Tasting tears with his words. ‘This isn’t a dream.’ It wasn’t a dream. He opened his eyes, breathing slowly. Different. Somehow different. Alive. Truly. A sound next to him made him turn, at least, as much as the bandages and wires would let him. Froze. Disbelieving. Hat-san! Please stop! ‘Mother?’ It was a hoarse whisper, but it was enough to jerk the slumped form awake. Golden brown eyes hastily blinked back sleep. Focusing on eyes the same speckled shade as her own. ‘Daisuke ...’ Would you like to choose what story to read? Suddenly, she was at his side, sobbing. Her cries sent shudders through the bed, painfully jarring, but at the same time ... ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t know – I should have known! I’m sorry I left – I shouldn’t have left – I’m so sorry, Daisuke!’ The pain seemed so much less now. |because nothing i’ve made| ‘You don’t ever have to see him again, okay? He’s going to jail for what he did. Daisuke, I’m so sorry I left! I’m so sorry!’ |nothing i’ve made has ever felt like this| He wanted to hug her, wanted her to stop crying, wanted to be picked up and tumble through the grass again, wanted to cry, wanted to bake cookies, read stories, say “I’m sorry” but all he could manage to do was lift his fingers. Barely brushing over hers. So white against the bandages. Believe it. A whisper of beginnings and of forgiveness. Fight for it. ‘Mother ... it’s all right.’ Live it. A wisp of blonde caught the edge of his vision. He turned. Doctors, nurses, machinery passed by the window. I’ll help you. Was surprised to feel his eyes watering. Let the tears fall and touch the rising corners of his mouth. Smiling. So try again. Usagi glanced at Michiru as they walked, the older woman having been silent the entire time they had checked in on Daisuke. Lost in thought. What she had seen in the Ideal replaying in her mind. This is what you want, isn’t it? Watching Usagi give him the ginzuishou. Here watching Sailor Moon give the Chalice to Tomoe Take it ‘Michiru?’ She only kept walking. After a while, Usagi thought she wasn’t going to answer. ‘I doubted you.’ Quietly. Their footsteps a marked, sharp cadence. ‘I thought you were making a mistake.’ Like I had thought before. Usagi smiled. Laid a hand on her arm. ‘That’s okay.’ Warmth. Forgiveness. Her voice became a soft melody to their rhythmic footsteps. ‘I did make a mistake. I tried to do it by myself. In the end, I caused everyone to get hurt.’ Remembering the vision of all their battered forms. ‘I’ve made many mistakes, Michiru. I regret not being stronger, not being smarter, not being able to achieve my dream.’ She sighed. And then - ‘But it’s okay.’ A faint smile. ‘Even though it hurts to regret and to make mistakes, they help us to grow and move closer to that day when our dreams are no longer a distant mirage but reality. She grinned. ‘Of course, that doesn’t stop everyone from yelling at me ...’ Michiru laughed softly. ‘That’s only because we love you, Usagi.’ Usagi nodded. ‘I know. And that’s why I want to keep reaching for my dream.’ Seeing the sky beyond the doors they were headed. ‘That’s why I believe I will achieve my dream.’ Beyond the door, the others were waiting. Michiru slowed. ‘Is that really all it takes to make our dreams reality?’ Quiet. Uncertain. i've always wanted to be like you, michiru-san so elegant and poised It made Usagi pause. ara, that is very flattering, usagi-chan but now i must tell you something And answer honestly. i've always wanted to be like you ‘Yes.’ Michiru glanced at her. Startled at the simple answer. The younger woman smiled at her reaction. ‘I really believe that is all it takes. Love, friendship - I believe with everyone standing side by side, we can help each other reach our dreams.’ They had reached the doors. They could see everyone waiting outside. Sitting, standing, talking, laughing. ‘Together, I think anything is possible.’ Michiru let the words lead her outside, watching as Usagi was engulfed by the other girls. ‘It seems they’re planning to go shopping.’ Haruka hadn’t rolled her eyes, but her tone was enough to carry that effect. Michiru chuckled. Then noticed the bandage still wrapped around Haruka’s head. ‘It isn’t healed yet?’ Haruka shook her head gingerly. ‘Not yet.’ Michiru frowned. Hers and the others’ wounds had already healed. ‘Hey.’ She looked up at the gentle nudge. Finding herself caught in a familiar emerald gaze. ‘I’ve had worse.’ Found that she couldn’t hold back her smile. Haruka’s face lit up in kind. A tug on her sleeve turned the blonde’s attention away. ‘Haruka-papa, can I go with them?’ Haruka blinked, surprised. Hotaru tilted her head at Haruka’s response. Suddenly realized what she had said. Smiled shyly. ‘Can I?’ Holding breath. Her papa smiled. ‘Of course.’ They walked slowly, acclimating their bodies to each other’s rhythm. Haruka consciously shortening her stride. Michiru consciously lengthening hers. Merely walking together. ‘I heard you’re having a concert here.’ Michiru glanced up at the sudden statement. ‘Where did you hear that?’ A shrug, but Haruka’s lips twitched in a smile. ‘A little bird told me.’ Michiru’s eyebrow quirked. ‘You mean a little firefly?’ The wind carried Haruka’s chuckle as it swept around them. ‘Not so little anymore.’ A sigh. ‘True.’ Haruka heard the note of wistfulness in Michiru’s voice. Had heard it often in Hotaru’s voice. ‘She’s gotten taller, if I’m not mistaken.’ Haruka nodded slowly. ‘She has. But ...’ Michiru glanced up at her. Haruka finally meeting her gaze. ‘She hasn’t changed much.’ She still misses you. So do - Ocean blue looked away. ‘No. You’re wrong.’ She stopped, crossing her arms. ‘Everything’s changed.’ Haruka froze, caught between anger and sadness. ‘Is that such a bad thing?’ Anger won. Refusing to give up before they had begun. ‘Maybe things can never be as they were before, but that’s inevitable. Those things aren’t gone. They’re just ...’ She sighed, frustrated, unable to find the words. even though it hurts to regret and to make mistakes ‘Changed.’ they help us to grow and move closer to that day Haruka glanced, startled, at Michiru. when our dreams are no longer a distant mirage At the smile on her face. but reality Michiru uncrossed her arms and they continued walking. As if they hadn’t digressed at all. But Haruka could feel the change. ‘Why were you asking about the concert?’ ‘Well, the girls were, ah, wondering if there were any extra tickets.’ ‘The girls were wondering?’ Haruka nodded, keeping her eyes ahead of her. Feeling Michiru’s knowing gaze. ‘Unfortunately, we sold out last week.’ Haruka’s shoulders dropped. ‘Oh.’ Michiru flipped her hair over her shoulder. Gave Haruka an amused glance. ‘But I do have some backstage passes ...’ The blonde woman straightened again. I’m glad I met you ‘Oh?’ I’m not letting you go this time Michiru just smiled. We’ll make our own Ideal. Together. [act 11: idealization // end] Ducky November 24, 2006 – January 13, 2007