The Superior Man Chapter 1: The Demands Of Love, a sailor moon fanfic

THE SUPERIOR MAN
Chapter 1: "The Demands of Love"
A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

In late November of 2012, in the Shrine on Sendai Hill, there was a gathering. A wedding was taking place. The groom was there, supported by family and friends. His name was Shingo Tsukino and in all of his thirty years on this planet, this was probably the most frightening thing he had ever faced. As the priest, Rei Hino, stood before him, he glanced over to his family for reassurance. His father, Kenji, nodded to him confidently. His mother, Ikuko, beamed proudly. His older sister, Usagi, holding Shingo's one month old daughter in her arms while the infant's father and mother got married, had tears streaming from her eyes and a thousand watt smile beneath them. She had been the driving force behind this ceremony. He would have wed his bride in a civil ceremony, but there were certain forces of nature you couldn't fight and Usagi the wedding planner was one of them. Next to Usagi was her husband, Mamoru, and he gave Shingo a look of confidence as well. So Shingo turned to his bride.

Yoriko looked at him and there seemed to be a moment's anxiety to her. Yoriko had no family to support her. Being a yuki-onna, her family had died out centuries ago. Shingo was all she had and she, like most of her kind, feared the sting of being rejected by one she had given her heart to and given up her immortality for. Shingo sensed this and put his fears aside. He was plunging into the unknown, but she would be with him. He smiled to her, thanking her for consenting to walk by his side. The smile washed away her anxiety and she beamed in return.

"And do you, Yoriko, take this man to be your lawful husband?" Rei asked solemnly. She didn't like performing Western wedding rites, but knew the ceremony and consented in deference to the couple.

"Yes," Yoriko replied, daring to hope that even an undead succubus could find love.

"And do you, Shingo, take this - - woman - - to be your lawful wife?" Rei asked. She mentally cursed herself for stumbling over the passage. No one else seemed to notice.

"I do," Shingo said. He already had. The baby Usagi was gently cradling was proof of that. This just made it official.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife," Rei announced. "May all your days be blessed with happiness."

Shingo bent down and sought Yoriko's lips. Yoriko rose up to meet his mouth. Usagi could be heard loudly blubbering in the background.

Later at the reception, held in Makoto's Butterfly Palace restaurant and bakery, little Mikomi Tsukino was the hit of the gathering. While Shingo and his friends drank and traded stories, the women gathered around Yoriko and peered at Mikomi, bundled in blankets and sleeping peacefully.

"She is just the cutest thing!" Rei gushed.

"Yeah, she really looks like her mother," Usagi beamed. "Thank goodness!"

"Actually, I think she resembles Shingo," Yoriko proposed.

"Well," Usagi frowned, "I do remember him drooling like that."

"Most infants tend to drool like that, Usagi," Ami cautioned her.

"I was talking about last week," Usagi shot back.

"Man, for a rug rat, she's all right," Minako grinned. Minako had on her dark glasses and wig, so as not to draw the press to the gathering.

"She's a doll," Makoto agreed. "Not as cute as mine. But I suppose I'm prejudiced."

"October 14, 2013," Usagi repeated. "I have to remember that. Mikomi-chan is going to get a mountain of presents from me on her first birthday."

"Usagi, please don't go too far," Yoriko cautioned.

"I insist! This is the first time I've ever been a - - grand - - sister..."

"Aunt," her four friends corrected.

"Anyway, I want to do right by her!"

"You've already given her the greatest present you could give," Yoriko said. "You accept her. I know that wasn't easy, given what I am," and she glanced at Rei.

"We wouldn't dream of penalizing an innocent for the past," Rei replied. "And so long as you live up to your vows to Shingo and raise your daughter right, what's past is past."

"And we know you will, Yoriko-chan," beamed Usagi.

"Shingo and Mikomi will give me the strength," Yoriko said wistfully.

The next morning found Mamoru off to his doctor's office. Usagi, though, lingered at the breakfast table. Luna leisurely walked into the room and gave the woman, sitting in her chair with her chin slumped to her chest, a critical eye.

"The normal human sleep cycle is eight hours rest and sixteen hours awake," Luna stated tartly, "not the reverse."

The response was a snort, caused by temporarily obstructed air passages. Usagi raised her head and turned blindly toward the cat.

"Did you say something?" she murmured, then began to drift off again.

"Usagi!" snapped Luna. "It is nine in the morning and you must get started on your manga assignment, if nothing else!"

"Right," Usagi mumbled sleepily. "Right after breakfast."

"You've already had breakfast."

"I don't remember eating breakfast."

"That's because you slept through it," Luna scowled.

Further conversation was cut off by the door bell. Prying herself out of her chair, Usagi closed her robe and shuffled to the door, stumbling over the leg of an end table. Her blonde hair still down and strands dangling in her eyes, she opened the door before Luna could warn her to check the peep hole first.

"Good morning, Chiba-senpai," smiled Sanoko Narita. The woman grinned, by now used to Usagi Chiba's frazzled morning look. For her part, she was dressed in faded black jeans that looked painted on, Doc Marten boots, and a blue denim jacket over her black tank top. Her black hair was cut to shoulder length and one strand, streaked green, swept above her right eye.

Usagi squinted and stared for a few seconds.

"Oh," she murmured. "Sanoko-chan. Come on in." She escorted the woman inside. Luna noticed Sanoko was carrying a portfolio. "Why are you so early? Don't you sleep at all?"

"It's nine," Sanoko smirked. "Is your husband around?"

"No, he left for work," Usagi replied peevishly. Suddenly she was a lot more alert. "And I already told you he's spoken for."

"Just my luck," Sanoko sighed. "I brought the latest batch of pages."

"Ooh, gimme gimme gimme!" squealed Usagi, taking the portfolio from her. "There's Diet Coke in the refrigerator if you're thirsty."

"Thanks," replied Sanoko. She looked down at Luna as she passed. "Hiya, Luna!"

"Meow," Luna replied in her best "cat".

"So, need any corrections, Chiba-senpai?" Sanoko inquired, sipping her Diet Coke straight from the can.

"Sanoko-chan," Usagi warned. "What have I told you about that?"

"I'm sorry, but it's my upbringing," the artist alibied. "You're my senior and I'm supposed to address you as 'senpai', not 'Usagi'."

"Well, I'll overlook it," Usagi conceded, then glanced at her with a smirk, "this time. But you call me 'Usagi' or I'll - - get really angry."

Sanoko thought she heard Luna snicker.

"The pages are beautiful as usual. And it's not just me saying it. Baishaku-senpai is always raving about how good your inking is." She put the pages down and headed for her studio, the little alcove just off of the bedroom. "I'll get the new pages for you to work on." Returning, she handed the pages to her assistant. Sanoko leafed through them.

"Rika actually kisses The Dark Lord?" Sanoko gasped.

"I know. Isn't it awful," Usagi replied with a Cheshire grin.

"I'll have these back in a few days, Chi. . .um, Usagi." And out the door she went. Usagi just stood and smiled for a moment. Then she was seized by a thought.

"I've got to get the next chapter started!" she gasped. "Luna, why didn't you say something?"

"You slept through it," muttered the cat.

Also that morning, but earlier, Ami Mizuno was up and about. She efficiently made her nutritious breakfast, sat down at her dining table and began sifting through the morning's events. The only change in her morning ritual between now and her first day as a newly graduated doctor was that now she read her morning newspapers as downloads onto her tablet, rather than thumb through an actual newspaper. An item in the paper spoke of an impending wedding and that sparked the memory of the wedding she had attended the previous day.

And that got her to thinking about Hayami.

And that got her to thinking about how deathly alone she was. Ami sat back, her breakfast and her tablet forgotten. Her father was gone. She was estranged from her mother. And she and Hayami had put their engagement on hold ten months ago. Hayami's reasons were obvious to her: He feared the emotional impact of committing feelings toward someone whose next mission as a sailor senshi could be her last. She said she understood and she did.

Her reasons for agreeing, though, were more than just being understanding. For an analysis of her feelings had revealed that she was afraid, too. She had doubts about committing to him. Love wasn't something that could be calculated to achieve a desired result. Love was this completely irrational emotional response that often threw two totally mismatched personalities together, usually bonded out of emotional need or physical lust. Just look at her parents: Two complete opposites in every respect. And once the blinding passion of their courtship cooled into the reality of marriage, they just bickered and fought until they couldn't remain together any longer.

And they succeeded in breaking the heart of an innocent young girl.

That was the consequence of love that poets and novelists never brought up. She and Hayami had pulled away before risking committing and even then the damage had been done. They'd vowed to remain friends no matter their ultimate decision, but since that day their time together had become awkward. The unspoken question wedged between them. The implications of what they had, what they wanted and what they were afraid they couldn't give had made their easy familiarity uneasy. All because of love.

Before becoming involved with Hayami she'd had a career, an insatiable curiosity and the means to satisfy it. It had been enough before. So why, with the exception of the time she spent with the four women she considered her greatest friends in the world, did she seem so isolated now? Why did it seem like she was hiding from life - - or perhaps from pain? What was this need she felt to belong? Was it enculturation or instinctual? Why would a mind as orderly and conservative as hers desire something as chaotic, as unstructured and as risky as love?

"Goodness, I'll be late if I don't get going," Ami mumbled to herself after noticing the clock. "I'll have to read my papers tonight."

Gathering everything she'd need for the day, Ami slipped on her coat and headed for the door. But at the door, she paused, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The face she saw looked so melancholy. Her hand reached up and touched the reflection, drawing down along the jaw line.

"At least you're not breaking out in a rash at the thought of love anymore," Ami thought.

Maturity had brought the realization that her high school reaction to love and love letters was psychosomatic. The mind could indeed do amazing things.

It could even build prisons out of cinder blocks of fear.

Minako Aino walked out of King Records corporate offices with a jaunt to her step that was indicative, to anyone who knew her, that she was about to burst with good news. Her agent trailed a few steps behind her, unable to keep up.

"Slow down, Aino," he said. "You've still got a month."

"I can't help it!" exclaimed the woman, her long blonde locks bouncing behind her. "My CD is selling through the roof and this concert tour is only going to make it hotter!" She paused dramatically and flung her hand into the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling. "I'm back, baby!"

The receptionist glanced at her, then shook her head.

"Don't get cocky," her agent warned as they headed into the elevator.

"I've got another platinum CD, a multi-million yen concert tour coming, rave reviews for the job I did in 'Lost Souls'," Minako rattled off. "Movie offers and endorsements are beginning to trickle back. And my fan mail gave three postmen hernias."

"Which is why I say 'don't get cocky'. You start taking this for granted, easing up on work, screwing around in your private time again and it'll all go poof." The elevator opened onto the lobby of the building.

"When have I ever not done the work?" Minako replied. "As for my private time, as long as a certain someone keeps his gorgeous nose out of Tokyo, I'll be fine."

As they headed for the elevator to the underground parking garage, several teenage girls ran up to them.

"Aino-san, Aino-san!" they squealed, holding autograph books. "Please!"

"We've got an appointment with your stage choreographer," warned her agent.

"It can wait," Minako said definitely as she took a pen and autograph book from one girl. "I can spare a few minutes for them. They're why I do this. They're why I'm where I am." She turned to the girl. "What's your name, girlfriend?"

"T-Tomoyo," sputtered the teen.

"To Tomoyo," she recited as she wrote. "Thank you for liking me. Minako Aino."

"We loved your CD!" another fan squealed.

"Really? Which song did you like the best?" Minako asked.

"All of them!"

"Hey, now that's a batting average," chuckled Minako. "Did you know I'm going to start a concert tour in a month?"

"GREAT!" they all exclaimed.

"When will you be playing Tokyo?"

"Won't be until July or August of 2013," Minako informed them. "So what was your name?"

"I better start saving," the girl gasped.

"That's a funny name," quipped Minako. All the while her agent watched from a few feet away.

"Yeah, I think you kind of had something to do with it," he mused.

Hayami Fujihara walked down the same street on his way to work at the Tokyo Metropolitan Library. It was the same route he took every morning for nine years, for Hayami Fujihara was an incredible creature of habit. He wore the same tie and jacket that he'd worn for nine years, one of only three he owned. The jacket was beginning to fray at the elbows and Hayami knew he was going to have to replace it. That upset him, because it was a good jacket. It was comfortable. It was dependable. It wouldn't give him any surprises.

Hayami hated surprises. They were the unknown. Hayami didn't like the unknown. He didn't trust the unknown. The unknown could take away a person's comfort zone in an instant.

Ami loved the unknown. She had a passion for the unknown. She had a compulsion to explore the unknown and make it known, no matter the consequences. That passion was one of the things that attracted him to her. Ami Mizuno was so smart and so logical and so precise with her life that it almost seemed to immunize her from any ill effects the unknown might bring. Being with her allowed him to face the unknown vicariously.

But Hayami knew there were consequences. The unknown might bow down in the face of Ami's superior planning and superior intellect, but he knew it made no exceptions for him. And he feared it was planning to betray Ami the moment she let her guard down. And something fearful would happen.

As he passed the site of an old building, Hayami glanced at it. The building had survived the bombings during World War II. It dated back, in Hayami's semi-expert judgment, almost to the Meiji era. It had once housed a temple school and was now used as a "cram school" for students seeking to increase their odds of passing entrance exams.

It made him think of Ami. A lot of things these days seemed to make him think of Ami. He missed Ami. His own fears about her being Sailor Mercury had driven a wedge between them. They seemed to see less and less of each other as the days passed and their time together always seemed awkward and distant. It was his fault. He knew it was his fault. Ami had a mission as Sailor Mercury that was as important as her career as a doctor. The Sailor Senshi were vital to the safety of Japan and of the world. Asking her to stop, just to spare him the pain of loss if she were to fall in battle, was the height of selfishness. He hadn't asked her to do it. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

But that left him with a choice: Face living a life with the looming unknown at his shoulder every time she transformed, or living without her. Being alone had never been a burden before. But it was now.

Hunching his shoulders, Hayami trudged on to work. Funny how the library didn't seem as important now as it had before he met Ami. And as he shuffled off, a mist seemed to rise from the cram school. It collected in the air twenty feet off of the ground and seemed to transform into a girl. She wore a kimono of ancient design. Her hair was in twin tails gathered on either side of her head and the color of her hair was split down the middle: Blonde on the right side, violet on the left. She had a round face, almost like a bulldog's, and a mouth that almost seemed too big for the rest of her face. Her eyes were wide, but narrowed when she gazed at Hayami. Hands went to her mouth to cover a childish grin.

"There he is again," Bonnun thought. "And he's even more consumed with worldly desires than yesterday."

Continued in Chapter 2