Phases of the Moon

Phases of the Moon

October 18th, 2004

Leaving the Ten'aino house was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, but it had to be done. God, how that place had changed from that magical night that Haruka and I had decided to go on a secret "ninja mission" into Xadium's TARDIS. Back then everything had seemed so fresh, so clean, so pure.

That night had been... I suppose surreal is the best word for it. No, no that's not it. That robs it of its mystery, don't you think? There was a kind of warm, fuzzy haze of magic around that time, a dream-like mist that I can't even begin to describe, that even now sets my memory a-tingle with a happiness beyond description.

That night, as we wandered the strange alien place, we saw so many sights, places and things. I saw my ancient home, the planet Uranus. I found a magical key... and something else.

I know I should be talking about the present, but my thoughts coming back to that time. It was one of those moments, you know? One of those singular events that sneaks up on you unawares, like a kitten stalking a toy ball, and then smacks you sideways, sending you hurtling off in a whole new direction, moving... moving too fast to stop, too fast to think, too fast to even worry. You just fly with the flow and watch the world blur past, hoping and praying that when you stop, you can catch your breath, take your bearings, get up, dust off and move on. That night... the night I found the fountain of dreams in the TARDIS and stood by it with Haruka... it redefined my life, my purpose. It set me on a whole new path that even I could not have foreseen back then. I still don't know where that path leads, but I am doomed to wander-- no, not doomed--

Doomed is too dark a word, like it implies a bad end, an unfortunate circumstance to be pitied. And I won't accept that.

That night, I had stood by the fountain with Haruka, and made a secret wish. Oh Haruka, the one I loved so dearly, moreso than even myself. The strong, courageous, noble Ten'ou Haruka. Whatever bad habits she might have picked up in this life, the vices born out of a suffering I can only begin to imagine, I remembered her as of old, when she was pure of spirit and purpose, and shone like the very sun, both on and off the field of battle.

She had been, and always would be, one of the greatest shining lights in my life. But fate-- terrible, dread, accursed, horrible fate-- had linked her destiny in this life with that of another, the princess of the sea, Kaioh Michiru.

Oh, I wanted desperately to reach out and embrace that love which was at once so close, and so far from my heart. I wanted to draw Haruka to me, to make her my own, to give her all the love and comfort I knew I could-- but her heart was linked to another, and I would not presume to shatter that sacred bond.

In this day and age it's too easy to be selfish, to push yourself into another's face, to just say "to hell with the others, I'll take what I want and let the chips fall where they may," but the last thing I wanted to do was cause Haruka pain. For even during her frequent arguments with Michiru, I could see that look in her eye-- that tenderness and care that echoed my own feelings for the Senshi of Wind. Who was I to tear asunder that which I wanted to create myself?

I guess that's why unlike Beryl, I didn't push my nose into the situation. Maybe I should have. I don't know. I really don't. Haruka and I could have worked. But the cost, the emotions-- would have been too much. Or would they? Damnit, it's so hard to know. I'm no saint. Charity and Selfishness live side-by side in my heart, just as they do with everyone else. Even as I resigned myself to a life without the one I wanted beyond all else, I still held out that thin sliver of hope, that thread of stubborn desire, that maybe, just maybe I could have what I wanted. Maybe Michiru would lose interest. Maybe Haruka would get fed up. Who knew what ridiculous scenarios ran through the depths of my heart? No one ever said love was sane. But that's what made it fun.

As it was, my selfishness was still to cause so much of that trouble I had wanted to avoid. See, that night, like I said, I had stood by the fountain in the TARDIS with Haruka, and made a secret wish.

I had wished that a part of her would always be with me.

I dunno. In retrospect, it was a silly wish. You know, the kind you see giggling girls make all the time in shoujo manga. Wishes for a "perfect love" or a "perfect memory." I guess that's what I was consciously thinking of at the time. A perfect memory of that surreal, magic moment with Haruka, to have inside me, perfect and crystalline in my heart and soul forevermore.

But magic fountains don't always grant silly schoolgirl wishes-- at least not in the way one might expect. I had asked for a part of Haruka to be with me always-- and that's exactly what happened. You can blame my not thinking it through clearly, or maybe the overly-literal science of the TARDIS behind the illusion of the magic fountain, or hell, just the raw machismo of Ten'ou Haruka-- but even as I gazed into her eyes, making the silent wish-- somehow I knew--

I had become pregnant-- with her child.

After that, things at the Ten'Aino house became very different. Oh, everyone still smiled, and laughed and talked with me. Some even wished me well, sincerely. But there was an odd tension in the air, a thickness and subtext that had not been present before. I could feel the suspicious gazes boring into my back, hear the whispered words, some of pity, some of anger.

Some people thought the baby was a trick on my part, a scheme to get Haruka into my life by force. God, like I would do that to her, betray her like that. Such a reflection into their own dark hearts.

Others were even taking bets on what Michiru would do to me. She was civil enough to me, but when ever I was around, she'd start treating Haruka more roughly, as if Haruka had been responsible. Her only responsibility had been to serve as the beacon for my hopes and dreams. And now she was suffering for my selfish desire.

I was sick of it. Sick of the false smiles, the heavy tension, the stress that seemed to hang over me like a cloud. This was no way to live, no environment in which to raise a child. So, I made the hardest decision I had ever had to make in my young life. I took one long, last lingering look back at my freinds, and at the home in which I had experienced such happiness and warmth, and at my beloved Haruka, who was so sad to see me go... and then I turned my back, shoulders set square, and made my out into the cold, hard world.

And thus, because of that one dream-filled magical night, my whole life turned upside down, and now I wander Japan, searching for a place to rest my head, and calm my troubled soul.

But don't worry for me, ye who should find this text one day. For while my pen writes of troubles, and torments past, my soul sings with a kind of strange joy-- for I walk this path not alone-- I carry with me the seed of a new life, a new hope, and a new dawn. I carry that which is most precious to me, and for that, I am truly glad.

# # #

November 24th, 2004

It's been about a week since I found the woods.

Japan is such a strange place. Modern cities and throngs of people running in concrete jungles one second, and then just a few miles away, such peace and tranquility-- as if man had never existed at all.

Granted, this place didn't look tranquil when I found it. The night had been pitch black, and moonless, with rain hurling from the sky in sheets. I was wet, cold, and more than a little scared. Not so much for myself-- I had money, food and supplies-- but for the new life stirring within. I knew that too much stress on the body wouldn't be good for her. I was lost, and found myself constantly brushing against moist, wet tree trunks. I was blind as a bat and worried that the ground under me might suddenly drop away in a landslide, or towards a seaside cliff.

There was thunder rumbling in the distance, but no lightning to show me the way forward. So I looked for a place that seemed somewhat sheltered from the rain, nestled near the trunk of ancient tall tree, and hunkered down for the night. Sleep caught me unawares, the rumbling of the great storm providing some kind of strange lullaby from the heavens.

The next morning, I awoke in the most beautiful place I had ever seen. The air was fresh and cleansed, the smell of wet vegetation and morning dew filling my lungs, energizing me. The sky was bright blue, and birds were chirping. It was as if the storm had completely washed out the terror of the night before, driving away the darkness and gloom that had filled it scant hours before. IT had been reborn-- and so had I.

After following the remnants of a faded, almost invisible trail for about twenty minutes, the canopy of the forest suddenly gave way, the light of the sky bursting into my consciousness, shocking me fully awake. The brightness of the light, the golden reflection of the sun against the shimmering surface of a wide, glass-like lake that was probably half a mile across-- it was all so pristine, so majestic, so... perfect.

At once, I knew I had come home. There was something about the life in this place that called to me, made my heart sing. It was a perfect thanksgiving gift.

You never realize the claustrophic weight of modern life until you escape it. Four walls, a futon and a ceiling seem so large and comfy when it's all you know; but coming out here, to a place like this, teeming with space-- oh, such wide and wonderful space-- you suddenly come to understand that all your life, in exchage for modern convenience, you've given up a part of your very soul-- that tie that binds you to the mother Earth, and accepted the life of a bird in a cage, willingly and without complaint.

As I looked about me, gazed over the watery plain of the beautiful lake, watching a seabird swoop down, skimming its surface for food; watching fish leap out of the water to enjoy the warmth of the sun for even the briefest of moments-- I knew that this was where I wanted my child to live. This was the kind of world I wanted my child to grow up in, to respect. An Earth rapidly vanishing, an Earth worth saving.

Even as I found the old cabin by the lake and began settling in-- even as I felt myself grow to love this place more and more-- there was still an emptiness within my heart.

In an antique frame on my windsill sits an aging newsprint clipping of Haruka, smiling in triumph as she stood, soaking wet in gatorade, having won the 2002 All-Japan Rally. It was the first race she had run as a woman-- where she had come out and brazenly defied the world to accept her as she was, not as the "man" she had passed herself off to be.

There were still some bits of the article visible within the frame, revealing words like "controversy" and "scandal"-- Japan had not taken it well. Many people had felt fooled, betrayed. Even some of Haruka's hard core Otaku had shunned her. In time, the wounds had healed, of course-- or rather, everyone was too damned polite to talk about them, more content to put the "disgrace" behind them and pretend it had never happened-- but still the odd disparaging comment was made, and many would still not look her in the eye, no matter how many races she had won after that.

Oh Haruka. Why do you continue to live in that cruel, spiteful world, where hate and intolerance seem to be the norm? Why can't you come here, to this place, with me, where everything is fresh and new again, where we can start over, and put all that ugliness behind us? Why must you stay there, in the middle of the heartless city, filled with ingrates who do nothing but pretend to love you?

Don't you know my feelings? Can't you understand them? Even if you can't respond them, do you see them? Is your smile for me just another polite face, one of the masks society makes you wear? How do you really feel? Why don't you tell me? Will you ever come here, to this place, to the lake, and sit by my side? By our child's side? Will you acknowledge the baby? Or will it be another scandal?

I am distressed by my dark thoughts in this bright place of life.

My hands wander unconciously to my belly, where the first signs of the budding life inside have begun to show. My hands tremble; partly in joy at the notion that this is really happening-- that there is a child within, growing, maturing, preparing to be born-- but partly also in fear-- what kind of family will this baby have? Will it be loved, accepted, cherished? Will it just be myself, alone with her?

I have to say her. It is too impersonal, and I need a gender, so "she" will have to do. It helps too, for me to imagine her being as strong and capable as her other mother. A reminder of the connection that binds the two of us, now and forever.

I glance back at the picture of Haruka, her eyes flashing with pride and determination. If the slings and arrows of the ignorant hurt her, she did not show it. She stood upright, proud, defiant. That is what I want my child to be. Someone who can stand against the world, damn the consequences.

There's a little bit of snow filtering through the sky now. Winter is coming now. I wonder what the others are doing now. Are they happy in their little world without me? Does anyone remember me? Do they miss me? Is it selfish to care?

I make a few trips into the city to gather supplies, food, blankets and the like. Looking back I give thanks for everyone and everything that has helped me come this far. I look forward to the day when I can see them again.

# # #

December 31st, 2004

The snow falls from the sky like stars fluttering from the heavens. I watch the flakes pass by my window, close, matte white blurs against a backdrop of absolute black. The light of my little shoji lamp gives the cabin I call home a rustic, cozy glow. Feet tucked under the heated kotatsu, I lean forward and raise my glass of non-alcoholic egg nog to Haruka's picture in a silent toast.

How are you, Haruka? Good? 'Cuz I'm great. Yeah. Alone here in the cabin, you know. You missed the ultrasound when I went into town, too. Even though I came by and told you only about 10 times over the past few months.

I sip the egg nog a bit and wonder, shaking my head softly, staring at her smiling, proud, defiant face. The one I so admire. Still. Even now. Even after all this. Even after being avoided, being bribed, being evaded like some kind of disease. I still can't find it in my heart to hate you, Haruka. I know you, know your heart, your soul. I know you're not stabbing at me, pushing me away. I know it's your fear of Michiru-- of her anger-- of losing her love-- that drives you to do the things you do. Well that and the beer. And the pitiful example modern society has set for people.

Even as I say this, a voice in the back of my mind begins to nag me. "Don't be a fool!" it cries. "She dumped you, she doesn't love you and never did. Look how she treats you, greeting you with a nervous half-smile and a briefcase full of cash to go away. Sure you tell yourself it's for food and supplies and for the baby, but you know better; that relaxed sigh of relief she lets out when the door closes-- you KNOW IT, Moonstar McWind!"

Usually it's easy to keep that little voice at bay-- but as I sit here, watching the snow drift down slowly, looking down at that little picture in the frame, imagining her bright wide smile, the popping of champagne bottles and laughs and songs and cheer in the Ten'Aino house, as I imagine that and then look around to see myself all alone in the woods--

--no. Not all alone. I mustn't forget you, little one. You're here with me. Heh. It's not like you have much choice, do you? Would you leave me, wee one, if you had the ability to just pack up and go? Or would you stay, out of some need for survival, or even a filial bond?

Odd isn't it, how we choose our friends. How they choose us. Who sticks with us, and who doesn't. How shooting stars and bright shiny idols turn out to be made of tarnished brass on closer inspection.

No, no. I don't want to start this new year out bitter. I don't want to feel like this, not now, not tonight of all nights.

The picture of Haruka keeps smiling at me. Smiling, smiling smiling. Are you smiling now? At her? At the thought of me gone? At the hope that my child, and myself, are out of your life for good?

My tears wet the page. The ink smudges. I want to stop writing. I want to pick up the frame, clench my fingers around it, pick it up and SMASH it against the wall, shattering that damned smile for all time! Damn you, Ten'ou Haruka! DAMN YOU.

Damn you for not being a total bitch. Damn you for being human, for being imperfect, for being as fragile and cowardly as the rest of the human race. Damn you for not being the cliched cartoon villain that it would be so easy and convenient to hate. Damn you... for still keeping your place in my heart after all this time. Damn you for being kind enough to give me the money for new clothes now that the old one's won't fit. Damn you for trying to evade your responsibility and yet accept it all at the same time, in your own ridiculous way.

Damn you for being someone I cannot hate. Ever.

So, bittersweetly, I raise my cup to your photo and take a sip of the egg nog, wishing you well on the dawn of this new year. We both do, my child and I. For without you, none of this would have happened. This new, wonderful life, both within and without me, would never have come to be. And while its roughness and lonliness may make me weep now, I'm sure things will improve. I can feel it. I wait for the day when you can see us again, as a family.

Have a happy New Year, Haruka.

# # #

Valentine's Day, 2005

Dearest Haruka,

Today was Valentine's Day, and I wore black.

Black for mourning. Black for spite. Black for resistance to the candy-coated commercialised farse that this day has become. There's nothing magical about Valentine's Day for those of us left in the cold by those we loved so dearly. There's more of a mockery, of a hurt, the happy smiling faces of the couples, arm-in-arm, blithely oblivious to the pain of the disconnected masses around them.

There is the pain of the little girl in the corner of class, shunned by her classmates, whose desks are filled with cards, red and bright and cheery, all asking for valentine's. Her desk lies bare, barren, ignored. Already she knows the pain, the suffering of abandonment-- but not its full depth, oh no.

No, No, no. That kind of hurt can only come later in life, when hearts are larger, more fragile, easier to hurt, easier to would. That kind of hurt comes when one has moved beyond the simple schoolgirl crushes of hand-holding and candy-sharing, when one trades affection in emotions, pure and deep. That kind of hurt comes from refusal, from disposal, from being cased aside as casually and quickly as a foil candy wrapper around a chocolate sweet.

The bitter taste of being left behind; that is what I am left to taste this day. While you and Michiru flirt and joke, eyes meeting, hands holding, I am banished to this lake, this serene coffin of placid tranquility that is so at odds with the turbulent emotions in my heart. Here I must sit, imagining the words-- imagining the whispers, the talk, and perhaps even the smooth caresses that you share-- all the while cursed to lonliness.

I can't even find someone now, showing as I am. Valentine's day is a day for the slim, the trim, the uncommited in life, to meet up with someone fresh and eager. To this mindset, then, I have become "damaged goods". Knocked up and left behind, doubly sinful for the day of virgin romance. To be a failure on this day is to be a subject of scorn, of ridicule, and I hate society for making it that way.

Because, Haruka-love, I am not a failure, no matter what others might want to believe. What is in my belly is the most sacred, important thing in the world-- a new life. And not just any life-- a life concieved out of pure love, the highest and most noblest kind.

While others might look at me and think lurid thoughts, wondering about whatever imagined scandal must have put me in the position I'm in now-- a single mother, alone in the world, scraping out a living in the forest, I know in my heart the truth-- that I am carrying a magnificent blessing-- a child that is the product of both myself and the person I hold most dear to me.

Oh, how I wish you felt the same way, Haruka. How I wish you weren't already trapped by fate and circumstance to be bonded with another. I'm sure you feel differently, of course-- that your love for Michiru is just as right, just as proper, as the one I feel for you. I suppose it is a curse, after all-- a curse of timing, a curse of destiny, or a curse of fate, that has made it so we can never be together, not in the way I desire.

You missed the ultrasound again. It's a girl, by the way. Maybe I'll name her Haruka, or Nao. I don't know. I wonder what you think of her-- of the idea of her-- a child bearing your genes, your name, your legacy and heritage. Do you even, in your fast-paced lifestyle, the life of a celebrity, of a senshi-- do you even consider settling down and having a family?

I know you did something like that with Tomoe Hotaru, but a lot of people wondered about that-- they wondered "did she adopt her just to keep an eye on her, to be able to cut her down if she ever becam Sailor Saturn again?" A lot of people said that, and I just shook my head. Because I believed in you then, even as I believe in you now.

Ten'ou Haruka, you are a strange one. A wild one, a free spirit caged by destiny, caged by society, caged by fate. You move as you will-- do as you will, always running, running to something or from something. Are you running from me? From the child? Running from what the reality of a family life would mean to you, of having offspring? Running from the notion of being tied down, held back, forced to look over your shoulder, second-guessing your decisions because you'd have a wife and kid back home to worry about? Could you still sacrifice yourself so easily knowing what it would do to them?

Is that why you evade me, Haruka? Is it because you don't want to put yourself-- or me-- through that kind of torture, that kind of pain?

Heh. Maybe I'm romanticizing. Maybe I'm just trying to ascribe a higher sense of nobility and purpose to you than is really there, just so I won't feel so bad about being left in the cold like this on the day of love. Maybe I'm trying to give all this a greater, grander rhyme and reason so I can feel like a martyr, being sacrificed for a larger goal, rather than merely a woman whose heart has been so cruelly broken. God, I don't know.

I don't know how I sound. Do I sound crazy? Foolish? Naive? Was I foolish back then, when I thought there coukld actually be something between us? Was I crazy to have just left, instead of toughing out the pain, and actually tried to make you take responsibility?

Responsbility. For what. It was my wish, my desire, my dream. I guess what hurts-- what really, really hurts me to the core-- is that somehow, at the end of the day, it seems that the dream was only mine own.

I would like nothing more than to share these moments with you Haruka-- to have you join me on this journey-- laughing and smiling together as we see the baby come more and more alive with each passing day--

But alas, I have but your picture here to accompany me, your faded grin and champion smile a faint reminder of that which has left me behind.

Happy Valentine's Day, Haruka.

I hope you are enjoying your life.

# # #

March 5th, 2005

Dearest Haruka:

You know, Shakespeatre always said to beware the ides of March, but he should have said beware the feet of an unborn fetus. Feet, Fe-tus, get it? Ugh.

If I had had any doubts that this was your chylde, dear Haruka, those doubts are long gone. This one is a champion kicker. Dropkicked me in the bladder, even. I'll leave it to your imagination as to what happened after that, LOL.

Today, I saw something so strange in the forest. A cherry tree had begun to bloom, a whole month early, the petals floating to earth like flakes of snow. As I sat under it, on top of that soft blue blanket you had given me what seems like an eternity ago, I watched the surface of the clear blue lake as the petals drifted by. I watched-- watched and imagined.

Imagined sitting here with you beside me, and our daughter, our laughter and talk carried across the forest by the gently blowing breeze.

Imagined your smile. God, that smile that won't leave my mind. The picture of your hair flowing in the breeze, short as it is. I always picture it just a bit longer than it really is, you know-- but not too much.

Will your reality ever coincide with my dream? Will you sit here beside me and our daughter, and watch the lake with us?

There is life all around now, thanks to the turning of the season. That which had withered away and become seemingly dead is alive again, renewed and restored. So too, I think, has my hope. My hope for things, for a bright future. My hope for a life that includes you in it.

I know, I think, that you and I can never really be a couple, at least not in the way I would like. But, I think as well, that you're not the kind of person who could sit at home, and not wonder about what your child would be like-- not wanting to have a hand in her life, her upbringing.

I would like to imagine that you'd come here, under the cherry tree, to sit with me, to sit with her, to watch the lake, and feel the breeze. That you'd want to hand something of yourself over to your child other than just some genetic material.

We'd watch the lake for a good long while, the three of us. Then we'd visit the city, maybe drop by the house and see our old friends again. Michiru would show up, like she always does. And you'd pretend to run off, and dump us again. But then, when she was gone, you'd come back, from the opposite direction, with a wink and a nod, and we'd head downtown in your ferrari, moving as fast as the wind.

Shopping would be fun. You'd try to get her boy clothes, and I'd just try to get her boy-ish clothes, to make her look just a little like you. Hell, she'd probably want a dress. I can see your heart attack now! XD "My girl in a *DRESS*?! Never!

After that we'd go for food, and I'd make sure to buy you natto just because I know how much you hate it, as payback for the Michiru thing. We'd all get some ice cream and relax, taking in the town, easy as we please.

Night would fall, and we'd make our way to a spring festival. Fireworks lighting the sky as our daughter coos in wonder at it all, and jumps with every explosion. For a moment, we hold hands, our fingers linking with each others', and the barriers between us drop.

As a bright burst of red fireworks light up the sky, we turn and gaze into each other's eyes, peering briefly into each other's souls. The sounds dim, and the world fades away, leaving just the two of us and the shared life we helped create.

For that single, perfect moment, we are as one, sharing and understanding, without the pain and pressures of the world getting in our way. We are at peace, whole.

It's a beautiful dream, isn't it, Haruka?

Maybe one day we can make it come true. I hope so.

# # #

March 19th, 2005

Dearest Haruka,

I hope this day finds you well.

I've left the forest by the lake. It was a beautiful place, but lonely in a way. After a time, you see, tranquility can become its own burden. When you first come to a place like this, you are are struck by what's there-- the shining waters of the lake, the singing of the birds, the calm, the quiet-- the serenity.

But as time wears on, Haruka, you begin to notice, like a small itch at the back of your mind, what is not there. The void. Yes, even this beautful place has its own emptiness. A lack... of others.

People can be petty, cruel and annoying. They can betray, and they can hurt. They can make you feel so worthless, so useless, and so alone.

Those were the feelings I was running from; running to escape-- running to forget. I was hoping to lose myself in the arms of beloved nature, to carry on free from the anger, the pain, the resentment.

And for a while it worked. I was at peace, sweet blessed peace, and my heart slowly began to heal. Just me, the life within me, and my memories, soothed by this mystical place. But then, once I had recovered, I realized something-- just how lonely I was.

If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? Similarly. what good are my ideas, my thoughts, my hopes and dreams, if I have no one to share them with, no one to explain them to?

The isolation here has begun to tell on me, as I find myself wanting a partner-- in conversation, in love, in life. The one thing that even the most beautiful of landscapes cannot provide-- the warmth and solace of another human soul.

Yes, there's the child still growing inside me, but it's not the same. Not yet, anyway. And I don't want that child to grow up knowing only me. The world is a big place, and for all the pain and torment that the human race can offer, I do believe in my heart of hearts that there is still goodness and kindness out there; friends who are loyal-- people who care, and whose ideas and dreams are worth knowing.

So I made a decision. A decision to leave this place that has been my home these past few months; a choice to seek out a new place, where I can gradually reconnect with humanity, but not too far, too fast.

I wonder if it is the maternal part of me doing this, making me have renewed hope and care again? I don't know. They say that the presence of a child in one's life changes a great many things, and I have to say I think they might be right, whoever "they" are, heh. I don't know if there was a flaw in my actions that made me have the experiences with humanity that I did, or if it was my karma, or my destiny. But I'd like to think that this new life, this new hope that grows within me, can take a different road, a different path, and have a happier life than I did.

Not that I've given up, Haruka! I don't mean to sound like I have, truly. I'm still young, you know. I still think there is a happy ending for me yet-- I'm just circumspect about it. I've seen things that have made my eyes hollow, my soul weep. I've felt the black touch of deep despair and had my heart torn from my chest. But... I'm still here. I'm still alive. Growing, learning, becoming stronger. God, it would have been so easy to give up. But I carry on... for myself, and for our child.

"Our Child," I write. She really needs a name, doesn't she? Somehow I think calling her "it" just isn't gonna do the job. But what kind of a name should I give her? English? Japanese? Should it mean something? Your name means "Sky King", doesn't it?

The child of the King of Heaven and the Wind of the Starry Moon.. What kind of a name would suit that heritage? "Windstar?" Naw, too 1980's superhero. Heh. Something traditional would probably be better.

Geez... I wonder what kind of powers our child will have anyway? Will she have the powers of Uranus, like you? Hah! Can you imagine her doing little "World Shakings" everytime she needs a diaper change? That would get expensive fast! And god help the poor little kid who steals her candy one day! Hahahaha!

Oh, Haruka, I wish you could be here for this. I hope you will be here for her when she's born. I still don't know if I'm ever coming back to your house, but I am heading closer and closer to civilisation again.

Yup. That's right. I'm around people again, even if just a little. You see, after I left the forest, I made my way to the coast, to a small beach where I can see the ocean. The people here are simple and kind, and welcomes me with open arms. Such a difference from the busy city where no one even knows you're alive unless you get in their way.

Here I am beginning to trust again, to live again with my fellows. Here, my opinion of my fellow man begins to change a bit. I may not trust all of humanity, but I am beginning to trust some humans once more.

One day, perhaps, my dear Haruka, I will meet you again face to face, instead of in my dreams. I hope that when we do, it will be a happy reunion.

Until then, please think of me sometimes.

# # #

[ Work more on that bit there. ^^^^^^^ ]

March 29th, 2005

Haruka,

Maybe moving back to the beach was a mistake. Being by people has made me realize how much I missed your company, and the company of my friends at your house. I begin to realize that I don't care about those few who say things about me behind my back, that I'm stronger than them, that their words don't matter.

I had a dream about us last night, Haruka. About the past. About what I had left behind. It was... I don't have the write words. Right words, I mean. But "write" works too, since I am trying to commit this to paper. Prose is so... dry, and doesn't do the vision justice. Perhaps a poem....



The night is cool, the breeze silken soft, we lie beneath the brilliant stars, gazing aloft

around the blazing horizon mad mongols cry and rut, eating the world we love in ravenous glut

in the dark grass we lie as the world burns by-and-by

Holding your hand, stroking your skin, slowly, our bodies gently do meet under the blessed night wind

I look into you, and you into me as our souls drift closer, closer still into blissful harmony

heated, our passion frenzy grows, even as time around us bends and slows

two to one to two to one, we join and part, orchestrating the ancient symphony of the heart

in the dark grass we lie as the world burns by-and-by, the heavens hearing our lovers' cry

a sacred bond, shared only with you, my one and true

around us there is hate and spite, the growls of the igorant howling in the night

but as we touch, we fall deep, deep into each other's thrall

their screams fade to black; this joy they cannot attack

O Agony! O bliss! Nothing they can do can defeat this

What hold have sticks and stone, against a union not of flesh, nor of bone

But of purest heart and noblest soul?

Seconds to minute to hour to day, we awake under the warmth of the sun's rays.

the night of the wolf is no more, the devils are gone

The world is fresh and new, and ours in this new dawn.

We rise, a piece of each other's soul seen in the other's eyes.

Standing upright, glistening in the morning dew, we embrace again--

And prepare to make the world anew.



I miss you Haruka. More deeply than you can ever know. And-- though in a different way, I miss the others. I miss rei.bot, and her stern facade which cracks every now and then to show a playful side. I miss Professor Tomoe and his coffee (even though I can't drink it because of the baby). I miss Minako and her klutzy kindness. I miss them all. Yes, even the angry Michiru, who still awes me with her elegance and grace.

But most of all, I miss you.

Distressingly, sometimes I find that I can't remember exactly what your face looks like anymore, Haruka. I have to look at your picture. I wonder how that can be, how someone so important to me can just drop out of my memory like that so easily.

It scares me a little. Scares me because of what it might mean. Am I leaving you behind, Haruka?

I don't want to leave you behind. I want you to be part of our lives, my child and I.

Maybe I will come back. I don't know yet. Our baby kicks more than ever, and my back is walways aching. I don't want to give birth in a shack by the sea, with none of my friends around. But nor do I want to give birth in the middle of a bunch of leering naysayers.

I am still torn. But the thought of seeing you again makes me smile. Perhaps I shall listen to the wind, and hear its counsel. Perhaps we will see each other again ere long.

Perhaps.

# # #

April 16th, 2005

For years I watched you from afar, of my true feelings never truly knowing

But slowly, surely, like a flower unfolding its petals, in your light my heart's love began growing

Your smile brings forth now not just a smile from my lips, but also my heart

Where once a simple word would do, from you now I cannot bear to be apart

once given nothing more than a quick glance,at you now I fear I can but deeply stare

Only the swift beating of my nervous heart can I hear

What is this ache, this secretly delightful pain

What madness has come over my once rational brain?

I used to think I was complete, and firm of mind and soul,

But now my thoughts only turn to making us a loving whole.

Can you see my need, my ache, my longing?

Do you understand my deep need for belonging [with you]?

To feel your kiss, the soft brush of your satin lips,

Thinking of that my love, causes my guard to ever-so-quickly slip

Against you I am defenseless my love; weakest protestations I can only begin

Like a secret lover's note, you cause me to blush

Only with great effort can I resist the queasy blood rush

In my darkest days you alone bring me a shining light

Not even realizing your role as my lovely knight

Staring at your back is all I can do these sad, lonely days

The twisted cogs of fate have turned in their cruel, heartless ways

And I can but bathe in the reflection of your brilliant, beautiful rays.

Return to me, I want to cry!

It was meant to be us, until the day we died!

Love was meant to be perfect, meant to be good

Only in stories and tales of woe should our love have to die on the vine, without a chance to grow

Streaming tears I beg for you not to go

Everyone watches, and some secretly laugh

Your have made your choice, to her wheat I am but discarded chaff

O, my love, my dearest idol

Beneath this cloud I have walked, fighting for my own survival

Regretfully I begin to walk my own trail,

Repenting still, I find my wounds fresh and my heart frail.

Even now, a new life prepares to be born

A part of you, a part of me, our legacy made flesh

Child of the future, I envy you

To see the world anew, afresh!

Deep in the depths of my heart I know I must move forward

Onward, to new paths I must move torward

I mustn't look backward to the past

To the future I must hold fast

O, to lie and say I had gone beyond you at last!

Truth be known, my light above

Haruka, you will forever be my only love

Even as I bite my lip and accept it will only be one-sided

Fate, I secretly pray, has not yet been fixed decided

Accept me then, if not as lover then as cherished friend

And weep for me when my time has met its end.

The things I want-- no need to say

In the depths of my sullen spirit they must now forever say.

Deepest love and secret desire

In service of harmony they must burn only within, on emotions' pyre

Do not pity me, do not shed needless tears

Not even you can understand this hard trail paved with my darkest fears

This is my torment, this is my cross

Searching, yearning forever for a love lost

To me please grant just the slightest smile

O, how such a small gift can carry me to furthest mile

Our parting, my dearest, was such sweet sorrow

And now, for the good of our child, I resolve to return soon, perhaps even on the morrow

To you, king of the heavens I must say

Your love I desire, but do not need

Only now do I see the strength I have gained, even as my heart doth bleed

Under the stars we might have kissed, but that chance is now forever missed.

Haruka, to your home soon I shall return

Eager to see all my friends, my spirit does brightly burn.

Home is not where the heart is but where it is most fond,

With all of you, dear senshi and friends, I have deepest, kindest bond.

Even though I give up my lover's hope, I make no idle talk

For you, Dearest Haruka, to hell and back I would gladly walk.

In this mortal life I will live strong and proud on my own,

You needn't even shift off your porcelian throne.

So, my dear, I return to the hoary, beaten track

I shall soon be back

And even as I bid our mortal romance goodbye, my voice sad and low

I shall walk into your world again, noble and whole, smiling hello.

# # #

May 8th, 2005

Haruka, This is the last time I shall write to you like this. In a few days we'll be meeting face to face again. My body's letting me know in no uncertain terms that it's about time for our child to enter the world, and I want you to see it. You had better not be drunk when it happens. -_-

Gah, you probably will be, knowing you. I guess it's not smart to wait till the last second for you to come up with a name for our daugther, considering you'd probably wait until I was passed out and then you'd name her something like "Budweiser" or "Goldenpalace.com" ::shakes head::

I dunno... Toshi? A mirror image? Hopefully of you I guess, but without the drunken tendencies or the irresponsibility. Angel Iris? Michiharu?

Ugh. No.

Wait.

As I sit here, I see a lone butterfly, alight on a flower blossom, its wings glinting in the light.

So pretty... a moment of perfect beauty, locked in an instant. A butterfly blossom.

And I have a name for her at last.

Our daugther...

Chohana.