This is Densi's first completed fic. I know you're all bursting with
excitement. Yaaay.
From Michiru's POV thinking about Haruka in the middle of S before the Talismans are collected. One part happens at the Marine Cathedral when the senshi "die", and though I don't mark it, it's obvious which one it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon or any of the characters. Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha, Toei, and maybe DiC and Cloverway do. Come on, people. If I owned BSSM, would I be sitting on my ass writing fanfiction about it? Duh.
DON'T copy my work FOR ANY PURPOSE without my permission!! Those who do will be punished by the Pocky Ninjas. Stealing someone else's fic is downright low.
Comments and criticisms are very much appreciated! R+R!
************************************************ Evil.
One word, no definition. For me, at least.
Are people evil? Or, perhaps, do they just commit evil?
People are capable of doing evil things. Does that make us evil?
Your hands. You say they are dirty, yet I see no flaws with them. Porcelain skin, appearing delicate, yet soft and strong to the touch. I have touched these hands so many times, loving you by loving your hands. Those hands with hidden battle scars. Those hands that are used. Used to fight. Used to kill. Your hands. unclean. Like mine. We have shared the same sins together, felt the same sorrows together, fought the same war together.
We are soiled. We are sinners.
Are we evil? Is that what the child of the moon says? Does she of all people have no hope for us? I can't see it in her to judge us. She is pure, beautiful, white. Those eyes, though we both know that she isn't perfect, seem as if from the virgin Maria. No, but she does not turn us away because we are soiled. She loves us, even though we are evil.
Why, Haruka? Why don't we love ourselves as much as she does?
Perhaps, I think in spite, it's because she doesn't know. She has no idea what we have to do. What we must do.
Or else, the world will be gone.
Nothing left.
Even her.
And you will be gone. You, the one I hold most dear. Separated from me in death, forever.
~
So, Haruka. This was what we were called to do.
Sacrifice. It's the only way.
I wish it didn't have to be this way. But, it does. And there's nothing we can do about it.
To save the earth, three people must die.
Three pure people! People like her!
Will we be able to live with it, Haruka? Will we be able to wash the innocent blood from our hands? Clean their dying faces off our eyes? Forget their cries? Forget their souls? Touch my hands, Haruka. Feel them. They are real.
If God in his heavens wanted me to do this, I will. I will gladly take hell for the world.
as long as you're with me until the end.
~
So this, this is what it comes down to.
You, me, and that vicious bitch.
I see you, scared, looking at me as if we'll never see each other again. You scream at me, screaming for the thorns that bind me to break. I see you, almost crying, calling out for me to stop. Stop walking towards you. Stop doing this to myself.
Don't cry, Haruka. You're too strong for that. My beautiful, strong Haruka. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to do this. Selfish, yes, I am. I brought you with me.
I stumble and the woman with the gun turns around.
I see you, I'm breathing and I'm in a cathedral.
A cathedral! Such a funny place to die in, isn't it? A cathedral. A place of worship, joy, and love. Marriages. baptisms. communion happens here. I had hoped I would marry you in a cathedral such as this someday. You and I, my only dream. To dream of a lovely thing outside of this. oh, fate has made a fool of me!
Just think, Haruka! I was playing my violin for you just today. The violin. yes, I love it, cherish it, but it seems worthless next to you. You seem to enjoy hearing it, though, so that's why I still play. Notes, melodies, harmonies. all for you. Before I met you, my playing was juvenile. I was playing only for myself, and the notes were shallow and hollow. I was praised, of course, and recognized as prodigal by my conductors and audience. They didn't know that it had little meaning to me. Subtle tones and tiny differences, almost inaudible except to me, marked my change of playing--my stronger waves. Just think, Haruka! There's your painting at this moment in that large museum you hate to visit because of the snobby old ladies-the ones as dusty and antique and ancient as the museum itself. Your painting. I tried so hard to capture you in that painting. Did I get it right? No, I suppose I never can quite get you on canvas. You're just too large to contain. One cannot paint the whole sky, but only hope to capture a small, beautiful part of it. Remember, Haruka? How you wouldn't model for me? I was crushed. I had loved you from afar, but you never noticed me. Or, at least you never showed that you did. So cool, so positively aloof you are! But, it's what I love about you. I never did get the time to collect the pieces of my heart before you entered my life again. We became senshi. The thing that I always regret pulling you into. but I wouldn't have met you otherwise. Just think, Haruka! Only a few hours ago, I was touching your hands, those hands I cannot reach because evil stands between us. We tried to make the best of it, to enjoy our time together, but could anything prepare you and I for this? I know, it hurts you seeing me like this. You didn't know I was pure either. What will you do with those hands once I'm gone, Haruka? Please, it's not your fault that we did all the things we did. I wish I could touch your hands one last time.
I keep on walking on, though. Even though it hurts.
The pain is shocking, sharp. is this what death feels like? Surely, Eudail will not regret killing me and staining her hands. Oh, a cathedral! Such a lovely place to die! Alas, the unity with you I prayed for will come, not quite as I intended. We will be united once more.
The bullet rips through my chest. She laughs. You scream my name again.
I gently smile at you.
You're not evil.
From Michiru's POV thinking about Haruka in the middle of S before the Talismans are collected. One part happens at the Marine Cathedral when the senshi "die", and though I don't mark it, it's obvious which one it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon or any of the characters. Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha, Toei, and maybe DiC and Cloverway do. Come on, people. If I owned BSSM, would I be sitting on my ass writing fanfiction about it? Duh.
DON'T copy my work FOR ANY PURPOSE without my permission!! Those who do will be punished by the Pocky Ninjas. Stealing someone else's fic is downright low.
Comments and criticisms are very much appreciated! R+R!
************************************************ Evil.
One word, no definition. For me, at least.
Are people evil? Or, perhaps, do they just commit evil?
People are capable of doing evil things. Does that make us evil?
Your hands. You say they are dirty, yet I see no flaws with them. Porcelain skin, appearing delicate, yet soft and strong to the touch. I have touched these hands so many times, loving you by loving your hands. Those hands with hidden battle scars. Those hands that are used. Used to fight. Used to kill. Your hands. unclean. Like mine. We have shared the same sins together, felt the same sorrows together, fought the same war together.
We are soiled. We are sinners.
Are we evil? Is that what the child of the moon says? Does she of all people have no hope for us? I can't see it in her to judge us. She is pure, beautiful, white. Those eyes, though we both know that she isn't perfect, seem as if from the virgin Maria. No, but she does not turn us away because we are soiled. She loves us, even though we are evil.
Why, Haruka? Why don't we love ourselves as much as she does?
Perhaps, I think in spite, it's because she doesn't know. She has no idea what we have to do. What we must do.
Or else, the world will be gone.
Nothing left.
Even her.
And you will be gone. You, the one I hold most dear. Separated from me in death, forever.
~
So, Haruka. This was what we were called to do.
Sacrifice. It's the only way.
I wish it didn't have to be this way. But, it does. And there's nothing we can do about it.
To save the earth, three people must die.
Three pure people! People like her!
Will we be able to live with it, Haruka? Will we be able to wash the innocent blood from our hands? Clean their dying faces off our eyes? Forget their cries? Forget their souls? Touch my hands, Haruka. Feel them. They are real.
If God in his heavens wanted me to do this, I will. I will gladly take hell for the world.
as long as you're with me until the end.
~
So this, this is what it comes down to.
You, me, and that vicious bitch.
I see you, scared, looking at me as if we'll never see each other again. You scream at me, screaming for the thorns that bind me to break. I see you, almost crying, calling out for me to stop. Stop walking towards you. Stop doing this to myself.
Don't cry, Haruka. You're too strong for that. My beautiful, strong Haruka. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to do this. Selfish, yes, I am. I brought you with me.
I stumble and the woman with the gun turns around.
I see you, I'm breathing and I'm in a cathedral.
A cathedral! Such a funny place to die in, isn't it? A cathedral. A place of worship, joy, and love. Marriages. baptisms. communion happens here. I had hoped I would marry you in a cathedral such as this someday. You and I, my only dream. To dream of a lovely thing outside of this. oh, fate has made a fool of me!
Just think, Haruka! I was playing my violin for you just today. The violin. yes, I love it, cherish it, but it seems worthless next to you. You seem to enjoy hearing it, though, so that's why I still play. Notes, melodies, harmonies. all for you. Before I met you, my playing was juvenile. I was playing only for myself, and the notes were shallow and hollow. I was praised, of course, and recognized as prodigal by my conductors and audience. They didn't know that it had little meaning to me. Subtle tones and tiny differences, almost inaudible except to me, marked my change of playing--my stronger waves. Just think, Haruka! There's your painting at this moment in that large museum you hate to visit because of the snobby old ladies-the ones as dusty and antique and ancient as the museum itself. Your painting. I tried so hard to capture you in that painting. Did I get it right? No, I suppose I never can quite get you on canvas. You're just too large to contain. One cannot paint the whole sky, but only hope to capture a small, beautiful part of it. Remember, Haruka? How you wouldn't model for me? I was crushed. I had loved you from afar, but you never noticed me. Or, at least you never showed that you did. So cool, so positively aloof you are! But, it's what I love about you. I never did get the time to collect the pieces of my heart before you entered my life again. We became senshi. The thing that I always regret pulling you into. but I wouldn't have met you otherwise. Just think, Haruka! Only a few hours ago, I was touching your hands, those hands I cannot reach because evil stands between us. We tried to make the best of it, to enjoy our time together, but could anything prepare you and I for this? I know, it hurts you seeing me like this. You didn't know I was pure either. What will you do with those hands once I'm gone, Haruka? Please, it's not your fault that we did all the things we did. I wish I could touch your hands one last time.
I keep on walking on, though. Even though it hurts.
The pain is shocking, sharp. is this what death feels like? Surely, Eudail will not regret killing me and staining her hands. Oh, a cathedral! Such a lovely place to die! Alas, the unity with you I prayed for will come, not quite as I intended. We will be united once more.
The bullet rips through my chest. She laughs. You scream my name again.
I gently smile at you.
You're not evil.