I decided to take a break from "Amazing Grace" and write a more comical
piece. It's about a matter that many of us Sailor Moon fans have
pondered over -- Mamoru's green jacket. Everyone has asked themselves
the question, "Why does he wear that jacket so much?" I intend to
answer this question. This is my first short story in over a year, so
please don't be mad if it sucks. ^^;
As always, thanks to Meara for proofreading my stories. I only hope
this story is at least a quarter as funny as you think it is.
And finally, I don't own Sailormoon. Naoko does. I own nothing. And
if you lawyers think you can get money out of me, you're crazy. It's
impossible to get blood from a stone, but it's even more impossible to
get money from a teenager!
The Green Tweed Jacket
By: Masked Maiden
Rated PG-13 (mild language)
Good evening. My name is Chiba Mamoru. Yes, I am that man with the
atrocious green tweed jacket.
Clueless as to what jacket I'm referring to? Damn, haven't you been in
the dark! If that's the case and you don't know what jacket I'm
talking about, you need to either a) congratulate yourself because you
may very well be one of the few manga purists; or b) enlighten yourself
by leaving this memoir for now and visit the nearest Sailormoon image
gallery. Trust me, they will have a picture of me in that jacket.
If you do not qualify for option A and you have no interest in
following option B, I'll do my best to explain. It is the jacket that
should be put out of its misery with a public spectacle -- such as a
bonfire -- and given the proper burial by dropping its ashes into Tokyo
Bay, never to be heard from again.
Do you now know which jacket I'm talking about? You do? Good. Now
let's continue.
I suppose you're wondering why I wear that jacket so often. Obviously
it's become a well-known tradition for me, one of the most well drawn
men in anime, to walk down the bustling streets of Tokyo in khakis, a
black turtleneck, and that sickening green jacket. If I'm not wearing
the described attire, I'm usually in my tuxedo. Give me that tuxedo
any day. It may be a little tight around the stomach (heheh -- Usako's
learning how to actually cook), but at least it has some class. I bet
you've even found yourselves looking for tiny fuzz balls on my jacket.
You know what fuzz balls I'm talking about. Those teeny tiny fuzz
balls that almost always appear on an article of clothing when it has
been washed repeatedly. You've probably also wondered if I even wash
my clothes. I've heard it all. Mamoru doesn't know how to wash
clothes. Mamoru is dull. Mamoru has bad taste. Mamoru is a
cheapskate and won't buy clothes, but just like all men with big egos
he'll splurged money on a motorcycle and a fast car. Mamoru doesn't
pay enough attention to his Usako. Mamoru can't fight. Mamoru can't
make speeches. Mamoru needs to get down from them high places and
actually protect his princess...
Uh... seems I've gotten off the subject. Where was I? Ah yes, the
jacket! Trust me, if you are able to conjure up a reason, I have
already heard it.
Now before I proceed any further, let me go ahead and tell all of you
that I have an excellent explanation as to why my jacket has made so
many cameos in the series. It's not because that's what the animators
drew on me. Wait... that is a reason. It's not *the* reason, though.
I have a better one!
I wore it because of Usako.
Confused, are we? It's okay. At times I am too, but I can explain
everything, as I said already. So here we go!
For the record, I hate the jacket. Seriously, I do. I always have and
I always will. Hell, I didn't even buy the damn thing. Of all the
things it could possibly be it was a birthday gift. You already know
that I don't have good luck with birthdays. I lost my parents on my
sixth birthday, and Usako slapped me when I didn't know hers.
Birthdays and me just don't get along. So why was I expecting
something nice? Mainly because the jacket was from Reika, Motoki's
girlfriend.
Reika is a very attractive woman. She's intelligent, compassionate,
trustworthy, and has exceptionally good taste - especially in clothes.
(Ever took a gander at her clothes in the manga? Very nice. Course
I'm sure Motoki would rather look underneath the clothes, but that's an
entirely different subject.) So why Reika gave me the ugliest, most
vile jacket ever made is a mystery that will never be solved.
Ugh... I remember that day clearly.
"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"
Motoki stared at me, wondering what I was going to say. He could tell
that I didn't think too much of the gift. And quite frankly, I could
tell he didn't like it either. So what was I going to tell his
girlfriend? That I liked it?
Bingo. That was exactly what I was going to say! I know I act like a
self-righteous jerk once in a while, but I have learned from experience
that there are times when a man must lie to a woman. That time
qualified. So through my teeth one of the biggest fibs I have ever
told in my life!
"It's very nice," I answered.
It would take more than that to convince Reika.
"You hate it, don't you?" she inquired.
I nearly shouted. "No! No, no, no... It's not something that I would
pick out for myself, but I like it."
"Really?"
"Of course. Would I lie to you?"
Motoki desperately wanted to answer that question.
After Reika left my apartment, I asked Motoki, "So what do you think?"
"About that jacket?" he retorted. "You could have made her cry for all
I care. It's the color of pea soup and vomit combined."
"Does she ever pick out clothes like that for you?"
"Reika knows to give me money."
Mental note to self -- next year, be greedy and ask everyone for money!
A whole month passed and the jacket never left my closet. It stayed
there, in the back and in the dark, where I keep my sweats and the
T-shirts I usually sleep in. I had no intention of ever wearing it.
Never, ever, ever! Let me clearly get through to everyone that I did
not like that jacket. I hated it, with a passion, and I was never
going to wear it. If you have absorbed this information you realize
that I hate to eat my words.
Every once in a while, Reika would subtly mention the jacket. I don't
know why. I'm not her boyfriend. If she'd bought the jacket for
Motoki I could see why she'd pester him about it. But me? What for
God's sake? Is it something about women that men will never
understand?
I take it is.
Also during that time, I began to have these strange dreams. You know
the dreams I'm talking about. They're not the dreams about Usako being
in danger and then I feel like I have to break up with her. (What were
them animators thinking? I'd never break up with Usako!) That was
after Usako and I became an item. These dreams were about a princess,
Princess Selenity. Each night she stood by the moon and begged me to
find the Ginzuishou. And each night I'd wake up in a cold sweat. By
the way, that's no fun. You have to take a shower and then your pillow
is wet!
And ever since that first dream, I felt as if I was on a mission. I
had to find something, or someone, or both. I had to find the crystal.
I had to find the princess. Hell, I had to find both! Problem was, I
didn't know how.
Now back to Reika. Since I didn't want to hurt her feelings, I decided
to wear it ONCE as an appeasement. It fit, unfortunately. I then
realize I could have told Reika it didn't fit and that would have
solved everything. Then I could have returned it and bought something
I liked. But noooo... it never came to my mind. That brilliant
Godsend never came to me and sometimes I want to kick myself for not
thinking it sooner! The jacket was itchy and hot and terribly
uncomfortable. With the knowledge of knowing I could get a better
product in its place was a harsher punishment that actually wearing it.
Damn it!
I made sure Reika saw me wear it. When that mission was completed I
made the attempt to hurry back to my apartment and change clothes...
but something stopped me.
You see, it was also the day that I met Usako. Or, as I called her
back in those days, odango atama.
Not surprisingly, her hair was the very first thing I noticed. She was
a blonde, which is very rare in Japan. The animators for some reason
love making Japanese people appear American. Doesn't that bother
anyone? Perhaps not. Still, she was a blonde, and her hairstyle was
one I'd never seen before -- two long ponytails with two round odango
on the sides of her head. I didn't hate it. On the contrary, I
thought it was cute. It was just unusual. I couldn't help but imagine
two hot, steaming odango in place of those buns of hair. That was how
I came up with the nickname "odango atama."
Now back to the girl. She was upset about something. Her body
language made that very obvious. She was bent and moping over the fact
that since her test score was low and because of that her father would
not buy her a gift or give her money for the arcade. There was a
friend with her, a red headed girl, and she tried to cheer the blonde
up. I didn't think it was working. I mean, the girl was so distraught
over not getting a gift. I bet she thought the world was going to end
over one little test grade. Maybe for her, if her father was a
maniac... which later proves to be true, but let's not get ahead of
ourselves! Back to the story!
I then watched as the blond balled up a white piece of paper and threw
it over her shoulder. Never did she look over her shoulder, but why
would she? I wasn't supposed to be in the way. At least I don't think
I was. She thought it would simply fall on the floor and become
another piece of litter, right?
Well, it didn't. The ball was airborne and hit me square in the face.
From my observations I knew the poor girl wasn't in the mood for any
teasing, but I couldn't help it. In a way she asked for it when she
hit me in the face with the paper ball. No, it didn't hurt. How could
it? It was paper! But that was beside the point. She was asking for
it!
I picked up the paper ball and called out to the girl. "Thanks a lot,
odango atama," I quipped. "Right in my face. Try a wastebasket next
time."
Now I know everyone has seen lightening. Everyone will agree that it
is fast, right? In a split second it strikes the earth and then
disappears. Quick as lightening! That's where the saying comes from.
Well, this girl's head spun around at least a hundred times faster than
a lightening bolt. One second I saw the back of her head, and then the
next she was glaring at me with her blue eyes filled with malice. And
I loved every minute of it!
"Why don't you leave me alone, stupid!"
That remark was left way open. Anyone could make a comeback,
especially after I took a peek at her test grade.
"A 30?" I retorted. "Who's calling who stupid, odango atama?"
"GIVE ME THAT!"
I had no idea a human being could reach the same decibels as a foghorn.
Talk about becoming deaf in a split second. I could not hear
momentarily after that! So through a large amount of amusement and
just a tad amount of fear, I handed her the test. She jerked from my
grasp, nearly tearing, spun around and marched away. As my hearing
came back I heard her mumbling about me.
"Stupid jerk... I can't believe he said that to me... He should be more
considerate, that pompous, arrogant jerk! But still... he is kind of
cute..."
You could have been knocked me down with a feather. After our run-in
and exchange of put downs, she actually thought that I was cute. Cute?
I am cute to her? What about rugged and handsome? What about damn
sexy? What about too sexy for my jacket? (Definitely too sexy for
THIS jacket!) So sexy it hurts? What about... Hell, I'm not that
picky. Cute was fine with me!
I took off my shades, which was another thing. Usually I only wear
sunglasses while driving. That day I wore them twenty-four seven so no
one would recognize me. It was that embarrassing. I did not want
anyone to recognize me if I were to wear that jacket in public. I
would not accept such a dangerous mission for most people. Reika
should feel very honored that I risked my life just to appease her.
Back to the story, again. I took off my shades and stared at the
blonde until she disappeared in the horizon. I didn't know much about
her. From her school uniform I knew she went to Juuban Junior High,
and from her test score I knew she wasn't fond of studying. I also
could tell she was a very emotional girl. More like a bipolar
disorder. One minute she's sobbing over her test and the next she's
biting my head off, but perhaps I was the reason behind her sudden
change of moods. I knew all of this about her, and yet I didn't know
her name. I didn't know where she lived, other than somewhere in
Juuban. I didn't know what her favorite color was, or her favorite
food. I didn't know if she thought I was more than cute. I didn't
know if she was interested in me...
Because to me, she was more than cute. She was beautiful. After fate
had introduced us to each other under the worst of circumstances, I
knew she probably *wasn't* interested in me. I acted like a total
jerk. Instead of being nice to her and ignoring the paper ball I had
to throw my ego around. Normally I never treated girls like that. She
just picked the wrong day, I suppose. Or maybe I picked the wrong day
to soothe Reika's troubled mind. I don't really know. All I knew was
I liked that girl and I wanted to see her again. There was something
about that girl, something I couldn't place. It was as if I knew her a
long time ago. But it couldn't be so, because back then I didn't
believe in reincarnation or much of anything for that matter. But that
girl... it's so hard to explain, even now when I understand what it was
I felt back then. It was like... all my life I had been searching for
something, and at that moment my search was over.
That evening when I returned to my apartment, everything changed.
It was the night I first transformed into Tuxedo Kamen, even though I
didn't remember what happened until AFTER collecting one of those
nijizuishou. It was the first time I met Sailormoon. Imagine.
Sailormoon was the same girl I met that day on the sidewalk. I would
have never guessed it. And I would have never guessed that she was my
princess, my one true love... not back then. I believe it now, but I
didn't back then.
It was around midnight when I returned to my apartment for the second
time. Even though it was late, and even though my head throbbed, I
began to work out a plan. I wanted to see her again and I was going to
see her again. I just had to figure out how. I couldn't look up her
address in the phone book because as I said, I didn't know her name. I
knew where she went to school, and I also knew where a lot of students
from Juuban Junior High hung out after school. That was the arcade,
the very same arcade Motoki's father owned. So I decided that the next
day I would go to the arcade and wait and see if she showed up...
And guess what! I wore the damn jacket!
Why did I wear the jacket? It was half ingenious, half stupidity. I
wanted to make sure she noticed me. And what better way to get
someone's attention is by wearing the same outfit again the next day?
You people who watch the show seem to notice me! So it works, right?!
Motoki believed I needed psychiatric help. Ladies and gentlemen, I
probably did!
"Forget to wash your clothes?" he teased.
Once again, I told a lie. I nodded and mumbled, "Yeah, I did."
Thirty minutes passed. Motoki and I did not exchange any words, and
the blonde never showed up. I began to ask Motoki a couple of
questions, just to see if he at least knew who she was. I prayed he
knew her name. Calling her "the blonde" wasn't working for me.
My prayers were answered; Motoki knew her!
"You must be talking about Usagi-chan," he said. "Tsukino Usagi, to be
exact. She comes here quite often, even if she doesn't have a lot of
money."
Usagi! Her name was Usagi! Wait... she's named after a bunny rabbit?!
"What kind of name is Usagi?" I asked.
"The name her parents gave her," Motoki teased. "Why'd you wanna know?"
"I was just wondering."
Lie after lie after lie... You see, that's what happens when you begin
to lie. You tell one lie, and then you have to lie to cover up the lie
you already told. Pretty soon you have done so much lying that it
makes a whore look like an angel. If I kept it up... Ah, let's not
think about that. I don't hang my hat on a different door every night,
or any night. Hell, the only hat I have appears during combat. Wait,
that didn't sound right either... Let's just drop this!
Motoki started giving me that I-know-you-that-better-than-that look.
Everyone knows what that is, whether you want to or not. Your left
eyebrow arches while your right eyebrow drops, and then your lips
produce a sinister smile. I should have known I couldn't keep lying to
Motoki. Some things I could lie to him about, like the jacket for
instance. But when it came to women, there was no lie I could get away
with. Not even if my dear life depended on it.
I watched Motoki as he leaned over the counter and chimed, "Oh
REALLY... You just happened to think of a girl with blonde hair and
odango that goes to Juuban Junior High and isn't the best student in
the world. Oh yeah, Mamoru, there's a lot of blondes in Japan just
like her." Then he stood and blurted with much joy as he could
possibly muster, "You like her, don't you?"
"Please..." I sneered. "I can barely stay interested in a girl for
five minutes. And why would I consider going out with a junior high
student when there are plenty of colleges girls that would love to go
out with me?"
"Have you considered going out with Usagi-chan?"
"She in junior high!"
"Age does not matter in the eyes of love."
"It does in the eyes of fathers."
By the way, does anyone know how old Elios is? Just wondering...
Motoki shook his head. "Fine," he said. "She's not your type anyway.
She knows better not to go out with a guy like you."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing..."
While causing a scene in the arcade by punching my best friend square
in the face sounded very appealing, I decided against it. I said my
good-byes and left out of the arcade...
Just as someone bumped into me... REAL hard!
"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry..."
I immediately recognized that voice. It was my bunny, and she
repeatedly bowed and apologized for bumping into me. Obviously she
didn't take a good look and had no idea that it was that pompous,
arrogant jerk from before.
Now, let me call a time out. I have to stop here for a moment because
I have to explain something to you... about men.
Ladies, I have a feeling you already know this, but it is important
that I explain this to you. That way you may not hate me as much. (I
know, you'd rather have my manga form, and truthfully I can't blame
you.) You have no idea how hard it is for a guy to get a girl's
attention. It's one thing to be popular and have girls come to you,
but it's another thing when your eyes are on the woman, of your dreams
and you have no idea how to get her to notice you. You'll do anything.
Junior high boys will place all their leftovers in their milk and blow
bubbles in it during lunch to get a group of girls' attention from
across the table. They act stupid and make complete idiots of
themselves. When they gets into high school they realizes being gross
won't cut it, so they only think of more mature ways of making idiots
of themselves. Act like a macho man, follow her around, put her
down...
See where I'm heading? The only way I could get Usako's attention was
by acting like an asshole. And I know enough about women to know that
if I started acting nice and kind and considerate, she'd think that an
alien took over my body. So as I planned of ways of sweeping her off
her feet in my mind, my actions only drew her away. I'm not proud of
it. Even if we are destined for each other, it doesn't make up for
what I put her through. I hope she knows I'm sorry. If our
introduction was any different, I know I wouldn't have acted in such a
way...
I looked at the beautiful angel before me and mocked her. "Am I
invisible to you, odango atama?" I made sure to use my little pet name
for her.
Usako's eyes widen. Her nose flared and a frown appeared. She's so
cute when she's mad!
"You again!" she exclaimed, and pointed at me.
"The one and only."
"Do you mind getting out of my way?"
"Wait, you were the one that bumped into--"
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
"Gladly!"
She's also cute when she walks away in a mad huff.
For months I followed the same routine, never tiring from it. Day
after day, I would wear the same jacket. Sometimes I would give it a
break, like when it needed washing. Most of time, however, I wore it.
And night after night, I roamed the streets of Tokyo until I found
Sailormoon and rescued her.
Now, doesn't that make you wonder? It's almost as if the two were
somehow connected. Why, you ask?
Whenever I was Tuxedo Kamen, Sailormoon was around.
Whenever I wore the jacket, I ran into Usako.
So, after finally realizing, the reason why I wear the green tweed
jacket is because...
~*~*~
Usagi shook her head, displeased. "Mamo-chan," she accused, "I don't
believe you're telling the truth."
Mamoru looked at her, doing his best to seem bemused. "What do you
mean?"
"That's not what really happened. You lost a bet with one of those
animators before production started for the series. Remember the coin
toss? Heads meant they'd draw you Naoko-style and tails meant they'd
draw you Toei-style. THAT'S why you have to wear that thing all the
time!"
~*~*~
My darling Usako, you know how much I love. With all my heart and
soul. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. But there are times when
I begin to wonder about you... one of those times is now.
Why do you have to be so truthful!?
Okay, okay, okay... I'm sorry. I honestly am. I can assure you that I
do not wish to sleep on the couch tonight. Yes, yes, I will clear
everything up.
I lost a bet. Plain and simple. And that's *the* real reason why I
wear the green tweed jacket.
Was that good enough, Usako? It was? Excellent! Now...
I think I know what we should do tonight. What do you think?
Heheh, I love you too, Usako.
======
Fin.
05.17.01
Email: masked_maiden@hotmail.com or gracefulangel15@yahoo.com
Web Site: http://miracleromance.cjb.net/
piece. It's about a matter that many of us Sailor Moon fans have
pondered over -- Mamoru's green jacket. Everyone has asked themselves
the question, "Why does he wear that jacket so much?" I intend to
answer this question. This is my first short story in over a year, so
please don't be mad if it sucks. ^^;
As always, thanks to Meara for proofreading my stories. I only hope
this story is at least a quarter as funny as you think it is.
And finally, I don't own Sailormoon. Naoko does. I own nothing. And
if you lawyers think you can get money out of me, you're crazy. It's
impossible to get blood from a stone, but it's even more impossible to
get money from a teenager!
The Green Tweed Jacket
By: Masked Maiden
Rated PG-13 (mild language)
Good evening. My name is Chiba Mamoru. Yes, I am that man with the
atrocious green tweed jacket.
Clueless as to what jacket I'm referring to? Damn, haven't you been in
the dark! If that's the case and you don't know what jacket I'm
talking about, you need to either a) congratulate yourself because you
may very well be one of the few manga purists; or b) enlighten yourself
by leaving this memoir for now and visit the nearest Sailormoon image
gallery. Trust me, they will have a picture of me in that jacket.
If you do not qualify for option A and you have no interest in
following option B, I'll do my best to explain. It is the jacket that
should be put out of its misery with a public spectacle -- such as a
bonfire -- and given the proper burial by dropping its ashes into Tokyo
Bay, never to be heard from again.
Do you now know which jacket I'm talking about? You do? Good. Now
let's continue.
I suppose you're wondering why I wear that jacket so often. Obviously
it's become a well-known tradition for me, one of the most well drawn
men in anime, to walk down the bustling streets of Tokyo in khakis, a
black turtleneck, and that sickening green jacket. If I'm not wearing
the described attire, I'm usually in my tuxedo. Give me that tuxedo
any day. It may be a little tight around the stomach (heheh -- Usako's
learning how to actually cook), but at least it has some class. I bet
you've even found yourselves looking for tiny fuzz balls on my jacket.
You know what fuzz balls I'm talking about. Those teeny tiny fuzz
balls that almost always appear on an article of clothing when it has
been washed repeatedly. You've probably also wondered if I even wash
my clothes. I've heard it all. Mamoru doesn't know how to wash
clothes. Mamoru is dull. Mamoru has bad taste. Mamoru is a
cheapskate and won't buy clothes, but just like all men with big egos
he'll splurged money on a motorcycle and a fast car. Mamoru doesn't
pay enough attention to his Usako. Mamoru can't fight. Mamoru can't
make speeches. Mamoru needs to get down from them high places and
actually protect his princess...
Uh... seems I've gotten off the subject. Where was I? Ah yes, the
jacket! Trust me, if you are able to conjure up a reason, I have
already heard it.
Now before I proceed any further, let me go ahead and tell all of you
that I have an excellent explanation as to why my jacket has made so
many cameos in the series. It's not because that's what the animators
drew on me. Wait... that is a reason. It's not *the* reason, though.
I have a better one!
I wore it because of Usako.
Confused, are we? It's okay. At times I am too, but I can explain
everything, as I said already. So here we go!
For the record, I hate the jacket. Seriously, I do. I always have and
I always will. Hell, I didn't even buy the damn thing. Of all the
things it could possibly be it was a birthday gift. You already know
that I don't have good luck with birthdays. I lost my parents on my
sixth birthday, and Usako slapped me when I didn't know hers.
Birthdays and me just don't get along. So why was I expecting
something nice? Mainly because the jacket was from Reika, Motoki's
girlfriend.
Reika is a very attractive woman. She's intelligent, compassionate,
trustworthy, and has exceptionally good taste - especially in clothes.
(Ever took a gander at her clothes in the manga? Very nice. Course
I'm sure Motoki would rather look underneath the clothes, but that's an
entirely different subject.) So why Reika gave me the ugliest, most
vile jacket ever made is a mystery that will never be solved.
Ugh... I remember that day clearly.
"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"
Motoki stared at me, wondering what I was going to say. He could tell
that I didn't think too much of the gift. And quite frankly, I could
tell he didn't like it either. So what was I going to tell his
girlfriend? That I liked it?
Bingo. That was exactly what I was going to say! I know I act like a
self-righteous jerk once in a while, but I have learned from experience
that there are times when a man must lie to a woman. That time
qualified. So through my teeth one of the biggest fibs I have ever
told in my life!
"It's very nice," I answered.
It would take more than that to convince Reika.
"You hate it, don't you?" she inquired.
I nearly shouted. "No! No, no, no... It's not something that I would
pick out for myself, but I like it."
"Really?"
"Of course. Would I lie to you?"
Motoki desperately wanted to answer that question.
After Reika left my apartment, I asked Motoki, "So what do you think?"
"About that jacket?" he retorted. "You could have made her cry for all
I care. It's the color of pea soup and vomit combined."
"Does she ever pick out clothes like that for you?"
"Reika knows to give me money."
Mental note to self -- next year, be greedy and ask everyone for money!
A whole month passed and the jacket never left my closet. It stayed
there, in the back and in the dark, where I keep my sweats and the
T-shirts I usually sleep in. I had no intention of ever wearing it.
Never, ever, ever! Let me clearly get through to everyone that I did
not like that jacket. I hated it, with a passion, and I was never
going to wear it. If you have absorbed this information you realize
that I hate to eat my words.
Every once in a while, Reika would subtly mention the jacket. I don't
know why. I'm not her boyfriend. If she'd bought the jacket for
Motoki I could see why she'd pester him about it. But me? What for
God's sake? Is it something about women that men will never
understand?
I take it is.
Also during that time, I began to have these strange dreams. You know
the dreams I'm talking about. They're not the dreams about Usako being
in danger and then I feel like I have to break up with her. (What were
them animators thinking? I'd never break up with Usako!) That was
after Usako and I became an item. These dreams were about a princess,
Princess Selenity. Each night she stood by the moon and begged me to
find the Ginzuishou. And each night I'd wake up in a cold sweat. By
the way, that's no fun. You have to take a shower and then your pillow
is wet!
And ever since that first dream, I felt as if I was on a mission. I
had to find something, or someone, or both. I had to find the crystal.
I had to find the princess. Hell, I had to find both! Problem was, I
didn't know how.
Now back to Reika. Since I didn't want to hurt her feelings, I decided
to wear it ONCE as an appeasement. It fit, unfortunately. I then
realize I could have told Reika it didn't fit and that would have
solved everything. Then I could have returned it and bought something
I liked. But noooo... it never came to my mind. That brilliant
Godsend never came to me and sometimes I want to kick myself for not
thinking it sooner! The jacket was itchy and hot and terribly
uncomfortable. With the knowledge of knowing I could get a better
product in its place was a harsher punishment that actually wearing it.
Damn it!
I made sure Reika saw me wear it. When that mission was completed I
made the attempt to hurry back to my apartment and change clothes...
but something stopped me.
You see, it was also the day that I met Usako. Or, as I called her
back in those days, odango atama.
Not surprisingly, her hair was the very first thing I noticed. She was
a blonde, which is very rare in Japan. The animators for some reason
love making Japanese people appear American. Doesn't that bother
anyone? Perhaps not. Still, she was a blonde, and her hairstyle was
one I'd never seen before -- two long ponytails with two round odango
on the sides of her head. I didn't hate it. On the contrary, I
thought it was cute. It was just unusual. I couldn't help but imagine
two hot, steaming odango in place of those buns of hair. That was how
I came up with the nickname "odango atama."
Now back to the girl. She was upset about something. Her body
language made that very obvious. She was bent and moping over the fact
that since her test score was low and because of that her father would
not buy her a gift or give her money for the arcade. There was a
friend with her, a red headed girl, and she tried to cheer the blonde
up. I didn't think it was working. I mean, the girl was so distraught
over not getting a gift. I bet she thought the world was going to end
over one little test grade. Maybe for her, if her father was a
maniac... which later proves to be true, but let's not get ahead of
ourselves! Back to the story!
I then watched as the blond balled up a white piece of paper and threw
it over her shoulder. Never did she look over her shoulder, but why
would she? I wasn't supposed to be in the way. At least I don't think
I was. She thought it would simply fall on the floor and become
another piece of litter, right?
Well, it didn't. The ball was airborne and hit me square in the face.
From my observations I knew the poor girl wasn't in the mood for any
teasing, but I couldn't help it. In a way she asked for it when she
hit me in the face with the paper ball. No, it didn't hurt. How could
it? It was paper! But that was beside the point. She was asking for
it!
I picked up the paper ball and called out to the girl. "Thanks a lot,
odango atama," I quipped. "Right in my face. Try a wastebasket next
time."
Now I know everyone has seen lightening. Everyone will agree that it
is fast, right? In a split second it strikes the earth and then
disappears. Quick as lightening! That's where the saying comes from.
Well, this girl's head spun around at least a hundred times faster than
a lightening bolt. One second I saw the back of her head, and then the
next she was glaring at me with her blue eyes filled with malice. And
I loved every minute of it!
"Why don't you leave me alone, stupid!"
That remark was left way open. Anyone could make a comeback,
especially after I took a peek at her test grade.
"A 30?" I retorted. "Who's calling who stupid, odango atama?"
"GIVE ME THAT!"
I had no idea a human being could reach the same decibels as a foghorn.
Talk about becoming deaf in a split second. I could not hear
momentarily after that! So through a large amount of amusement and
just a tad amount of fear, I handed her the test. She jerked from my
grasp, nearly tearing, spun around and marched away. As my hearing
came back I heard her mumbling about me.
"Stupid jerk... I can't believe he said that to me... He should be more
considerate, that pompous, arrogant jerk! But still... he is kind of
cute..."
You could have been knocked me down with a feather. After our run-in
and exchange of put downs, she actually thought that I was cute. Cute?
I am cute to her? What about rugged and handsome? What about damn
sexy? What about too sexy for my jacket? (Definitely too sexy for
THIS jacket!) So sexy it hurts? What about... Hell, I'm not that
picky. Cute was fine with me!
I took off my shades, which was another thing. Usually I only wear
sunglasses while driving. That day I wore them twenty-four seven so no
one would recognize me. It was that embarrassing. I did not want
anyone to recognize me if I were to wear that jacket in public. I
would not accept such a dangerous mission for most people. Reika
should feel very honored that I risked my life just to appease her.
Back to the story, again. I took off my shades and stared at the
blonde until she disappeared in the horizon. I didn't know much about
her. From her school uniform I knew she went to Juuban Junior High,
and from her test score I knew she wasn't fond of studying. I also
could tell she was a very emotional girl. More like a bipolar
disorder. One minute she's sobbing over her test and the next she's
biting my head off, but perhaps I was the reason behind her sudden
change of moods. I knew all of this about her, and yet I didn't know
her name. I didn't know where she lived, other than somewhere in
Juuban. I didn't know what her favorite color was, or her favorite
food. I didn't know if she thought I was more than cute. I didn't
know if she was interested in me...
Because to me, she was more than cute. She was beautiful. After fate
had introduced us to each other under the worst of circumstances, I
knew she probably *wasn't* interested in me. I acted like a total
jerk. Instead of being nice to her and ignoring the paper ball I had
to throw my ego around. Normally I never treated girls like that. She
just picked the wrong day, I suppose. Or maybe I picked the wrong day
to soothe Reika's troubled mind. I don't really know. All I knew was
I liked that girl and I wanted to see her again. There was something
about that girl, something I couldn't place. It was as if I knew her a
long time ago. But it couldn't be so, because back then I didn't
believe in reincarnation or much of anything for that matter. But that
girl... it's so hard to explain, even now when I understand what it was
I felt back then. It was like... all my life I had been searching for
something, and at that moment my search was over.
That evening when I returned to my apartment, everything changed.
It was the night I first transformed into Tuxedo Kamen, even though I
didn't remember what happened until AFTER collecting one of those
nijizuishou. It was the first time I met Sailormoon. Imagine.
Sailormoon was the same girl I met that day on the sidewalk. I would
have never guessed it. And I would have never guessed that she was my
princess, my one true love... not back then. I believe it now, but I
didn't back then.
It was around midnight when I returned to my apartment for the second
time. Even though it was late, and even though my head throbbed, I
began to work out a plan. I wanted to see her again and I was going to
see her again. I just had to figure out how. I couldn't look up her
address in the phone book because as I said, I didn't know her name. I
knew where she went to school, and I also knew where a lot of students
from Juuban Junior High hung out after school. That was the arcade,
the very same arcade Motoki's father owned. So I decided that the next
day I would go to the arcade and wait and see if she showed up...
And guess what! I wore the damn jacket!
Why did I wear the jacket? It was half ingenious, half stupidity. I
wanted to make sure she noticed me. And what better way to get
someone's attention is by wearing the same outfit again the next day?
You people who watch the show seem to notice me! So it works, right?!
Motoki believed I needed psychiatric help. Ladies and gentlemen, I
probably did!
"Forget to wash your clothes?" he teased.
Once again, I told a lie. I nodded and mumbled, "Yeah, I did."
Thirty minutes passed. Motoki and I did not exchange any words, and
the blonde never showed up. I began to ask Motoki a couple of
questions, just to see if he at least knew who she was. I prayed he
knew her name. Calling her "the blonde" wasn't working for me.
My prayers were answered; Motoki knew her!
"You must be talking about Usagi-chan," he said. "Tsukino Usagi, to be
exact. She comes here quite often, even if she doesn't have a lot of
money."
Usagi! Her name was Usagi! Wait... she's named after a bunny rabbit?!
"What kind of name is Usagi?" I asked.
"The name her parents gave her," Motoki teased. "Why'd you wanna know?"
"I was just wondering."
Lie after lie after lie... You see, that's what happens when you begin
to lie. You tell one lie, and then you have to lie to cover up the lie
you already told. Pretty soon you have done so much lying that it
makes a whore look like an angel. If I kept it up... Ah, let's not
think about that. I don't hang my hat on a different door every night,
or any night. Hell, the only hat I have appears during combat. Wait,
that didn't sound right either... Let's just drop this!
Motoki started giving me that I-know-you-that-better-than-that look.
Everyone knows what that is, whether you want to or not. Your left
eyebrow arches while your right eyebrow drops, and then your lips
produce a sinister smile. I should have known I couldn't keep lying to
Motoki. Some things I could lie to him about, like the jacket for
instance. But when it came to women, there was no lie I could get away
with. Not even if my dear life depended on it.
I watched Motoki as he leaned over the counter and chimed, "Oh
REALLY... You just happened to think of a girl with blonde hair and
odango that goes to Juuban Junior High and isn't the best student in
the world. Oh yeah, Mamoru, there's a lot of blondes in Japan just
like her." Then he stood and blurted with much joy as he could
possibly muster, "You like her, don't you?"
"Please..." I sneered. "I can barely stay interested in a girl for
five minutes. And why would I consider going out with a junior high
student when there are plenty of colleges girls that would love to go
out with me?"
"Have you considered going out with Usagi-chan?"
"She in junior high!"
"Age does not matter in the eyes of love."
"It does in the eyes of fathers."
By the way, does anyone know how old Elios is? Just wondering...
Motoki shook his head. "Fine," he said. "She's not your type anyway.
She knows better not to go out with a guy like you."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing..."
While causing a scene in the arcade by punching my best friend square
in the face sounded very appealing, I decided against it. I said my
good-byes and left out of the arcade...
Just as someone bumped into me... REAL hard!
"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry..."
I immediately recognized that voice. It was my bunny, and she
repeatedly bowed and apologized for bumping into me. Obviously she
didn't take a good look and had no idea that it was that pompous,
arrogant jerk from before.
Now, let me call a time out. I have to stop here for a moment because
I have to explain something to you... about men.
Ladies, I have a feeling you already know this, but it is important
that I explain this to you. That way you may not hate me as much. (I
know, you'd rather have my manga form, and truthfully I can't blame
you.) You have no idea how hard it is for a guy to get a girl's
attention. It's one thing to be popular and have girls come to you,
but it's another thing when your eyes are on the woman, of your dreams
and you have no idea how to get her to notice you. You'll do anything.
Junior high boys will place all their leftovers in their milk and blow
bubbles in it during lunch to get a group of girls' attention from
across the table. They act stupid and make complete idiots of
themselves. When they gets into high school they realizes being gross
won't cut it, so they only think of more mature ways of making idiots
of themselves. Act like a macho man, follow her around, put her
down...
See where I'm heading? The only way I could get Usako's attention was
by acting like an asshole. And I know enough about women to know that
if I started acting nice and kind and considerate, she'd think that an
alien took over my body. So as I planned of ways of sweeping her off
her feet in my mind, my actions only drew her away. I'm not proud of
it. Even if we are destined for each other, it doesn't make up for
what I put her through. I hope she knows I'm sorry. If our
introduction was any different, I know I wouldn't have acted in such a
way...
I looked at the beautiful angel before me and mocked her. "Am I
invisible to you, odango atama?" I made sure to use my little pet name
for her.
Usako's eyes widen. Her nose flared and a frown appeared. She's so
cute when she's mad!
"You again!" she exclaimed, and pointed at me.
"The one and only."
"Do you mind getting out of my way?"
"Wait, you were the one that bumped into--"
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
"Gladly!"
She's also cute when she walks away in a mad huff.
For months I followed the same routine, never tiring from it. Day
after day, I would wear the same jacket. Sometimes I would give it a
break, like when it needed washing. Most of time, however, I wore it.
And night after night, I roamed the streets of Tokyo until I found
Sailormoon and rescued her.
Now, doesn't that make you wonder? It's almost as if the two were
somehow connected. Why, you ask?
Whenever I was Tuxedo Kamen, Sailormoon was around.
Whenever I wore the jacket, I ran into Usako.
So, after finally realizing, the reason why I wear the green tweed
jacket is because...
~*~*~
Usagi shook her head, displeased. "Mamo-chan," she accused, "I don't
believe you're telling the truth."
Mamoru looked at her, doing his best to seem bemused. "What do you
mean?"
"That's not what really happened. You lost a bet with one of those
animators before production started for the series. Remember the coin
toss? Heads meant they'd draw you Naoko-style and tails meant they'd
draw you Toei-style. THAT'S why you have to wear that thing all the
time!"
~*~*~
My darling Usako, you know how much I love. With all my heart and
soul. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. But there are times when
I begin to wonder about you... one of those times is now.
Why do you have to be so truthful!?
Okay, okay, okay... I'm sorry. I honestly am. I can assure you that I
do not wish to sleep on the couch tonight. Yes, yes, I will clear
everything up.
I lost a bet. Plain and simple. And that's *the* real reason why I
wear the green tweed jacket.
Was that good enough, Usako? It was? Excellent! Now...
I think I know what we should do tonight. What do you think?
Heheh, I love you too, Usako.
======
Fin.
05.17.01
Email: masked_maiden@hotmail.com or gracefulangel15@yahoo.com
Web Site: http://miracleromance.cjb.net/