NAME: Towel (8/25/01-9/6/01)
E-MAIL: MoonTowel18@msn.com
TITLE: Papa-Kenji, Please No More
RATED: PG (if not then let me know otherwise)
NOTE: Just a little thing I thought up following between my Sailor Moon Core story that's really an issue with a lot of families. I hope whoever likes it. Okay if you have problems with men liking men (roll eyes) then like don't read this. Although, I really wouldn't see why considering nobody's REAL here. But we all like to think that in the Sailor Moon world though don't we!? At first this was just a one-part story. Then I got to class and made it longer. Okay whatever! Just READ! Hehehehehe. Oh yeah suggestion. The music of choice: "Gone" by Madonna on the "Music" CD album. For me at least it fitted the story.
DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon 1992-2001 is Naoko's, Kodansha, you know all this mess.
THANKS: Naoko
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Papa-Kenji, Please No More~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Starke night on the eve of summer…
Shingo cringed deep in the covers of his bed as he once again was hearing the shocking surprising cries that sounded like howls from the bellow of a wolf. A wolf from his nightmares that come to haunt him and do awful things to him. The little twelve year old held his covers so tight, his poor sadden eyes ablaze glowing in the darkness of his bedroom. The glowing glaring red digits of his alarm clock seem to scream "4:37" at him as if passively on time.
And from the room up the hall…
SPU-WACK! Following that another muffled wolf cry.
Shingo tightened his teary eyes and cowered down deeper into this covers holding himself so tightly feeling like he was the only one in the world alive that felt this pain and horror.
Too many times, he would scream in his head. This has been happening too many times. Usagi-chan wasn't that bad! So why was she always in trouble at night!?
Shingo often blamed this situation on himself. After their mother's death his father wasn't the same. More demanding with a crazy wildness in his eyes that was just frightening to Shingo. And just two month… all this started, a few weeks after Shingo's mother's death. The late-night early morning cries of his sister Usagi from up the hall.
Why was this happening!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? What's WRONG with Papa-Kenji!? Why did he keep hurting Usagi and not Shingo? Usagi was a scatter-bird brain a lot. She didn't make perfect grades, but… this was just ridiculous!
Shingo felt like he'd lost his father. While he was gone Shingo would sneak into Usagi's room where she seem to stay day and night after school and on weekends. Shingo would come to comfort her, and ask her what was going on. Why was Papa-Kenji doing these awful things? One day Usagi was about to let loose on her twelve-year-old brother and tell him everything, but she turned it all around. Saw him as a child and left it at that.
And so continued the haunting nightmares Shingo endured. He knew his nightmares couldn't be as worst as Usagi's. And he didn't want to feel like a child no more and be ignored. He wanted his sister more than anything. Now that his mother was gone, and literally his father (gone in the head) Shingo felt like Usagi was his only family now.
Another sparking snap and muffled cry rang out spinning the cranes in Shingo's tender frightened bones. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to squeeze into the depths of his sheets he wouldn't disappear. Just wasn't!
Heat was consuming him. Heat, fear, and anger. Swallowing him.
No more! He couldn't deal with it anymore!
Suddenly Shingo rose up out of bed sharply ignoring all the feelings and aches and pains he had and stride out of the room. His thin boyish legs stretched out and his face covered in sweat. Shingo's eyes narrowed down in their green screening, and out he charged from his room and immediately felt himself hook a right toward his parents' once room but now just his fathers.
The kid didn't know what he was doing. Only that he was doing something. Something dangerous. He knew that for sure. It was dangerous and he was going to get it done. He was going to reshape everything! He wasn't going to take anymore. He didn't need his father but he needed his sister. So he was going to put an end to the whole situation at hand and at the same time reduce this now careless soul from his life.
Shingo pushed open his parents bedroom door seeing it sat dry in darkness except for one small nightstand light that revealed only the tiniest of showering light. Enough light for Shingo to see yet another familiar set of beer cans, cigarettes, and paper scattered everywhere. This kind of thing was everywhere in the house now. No surprise.
In the doorway Shingo paused a little breathing deeply. Every time he saw this room he remembered his mother. He remember those scared nights like these he would jump between his parents in bed-
"No!" he suddenly shouted aloud closing his eyes and covering his ears as if he didn't want to remember. He didn't. It was just too strong for him, and just as he found himself somehow weaken to take action the feelings went away and once again he frowned upward and moved on into the room stepping over beer cans toward his parents' closet.
He pulled the closet open and hit the light switch. The closet lit up and the first place Shingo focused his determined green eyes was on the several shoeboxes lining the top left shelf.
The boy wasn't ignorant at all. He knew what he came there for and he knew exactly where it was.
Shingo moved onward into the walk in closet toward the back. The smell of liquor and weed burning at his nose.
Standing on his toes he trifled through the boxes on the end of the shelf until he came across the "Red One." He tugged the box from its post and held the sudden heaviness of the box in both hands as he lowered it toward the floor of the closet.
Taking a deep breath Shingo pulled off the top and there it was.
His eyes gleamed.
The shiny Colt Python his parents owned. He took the heavily deadly weapon in his mind. Wait… what mind? Shingo was long gone at this point. The one driving the mind of this twelve year old was anger and revenge.
Loading in several bullets Shingo stood up quickly a little startled still by the weight of the gun but still able.
And so… he moved on toward Usagi's room barefoot dragging along the shaggy carpeting. Down the hall under Usagi's door was a soft, yet dangerous, warm glowing light and the continual sounds heard over and over again. Shingo managed to make it the door and shakeningly touch the knob.
He jerked away as if being electrocuted warning him not to do this, but he shook it off and reached for the knob again this time taking it in his full grasp and twisting it. Slowly he opened it showering a deadly glow into the hallway from Usagi's room. The first thing he saw was Usagi crying in a ball on her bed. A battered Usagi holding her covers naked and completely violated even to Shingo's young eyes. Shingo ignored her for that second and opened the door wider until it reveal his father at the foot of the bed just throwing his slack-pants on over his wiry body.
The large man copped an eye on Shingo then the gun and started to reach but stopped as Shingo slowly lifted the heavy weapon aimed right at his kaput father.
Usagi suddenly screamed which didn't scramble Shingo's thoughts at all. Shingo kept focus traumatized of course.
Papa-Kenji lifted up his glasses and smiled innocently at the frightened twelve year old. Usagi screamed for Shingo to stop and even made a move to stop him, her growing pale naked womanly figure lifting up before her brother. But Usagi knew better, she thought Shingo was after her too and would gladly praise him to end her life even after fifteen years.
"Well son," spoke the "demon" in questioning for the following proceedings.
Shingo pulled the trigger and that was all it was to this awful game.
BLAM!
Shingo jumped and jumped and jumped hopping to have jumped out of a dream! He closed his eyes waiting for his father to still be alive and to hold him and tell him everything was going to be all right. That nothing was going on. Shingo prayed that everything was a dream! A DREAM! That his mother never died! That he'd wake up and his parents would be standing over his head comforting him! Shingo prayed prayed prayed when-
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Thrown aback Shingo opened his eyes, saw his father sprawled face down drenching Usagi's carpet in blood, and felt sick to his stomach as he dropped the revolver. The revolver hit the floor with a THUMP resonance one beat before Shingo's heart as he just stared as his father.
Wrapped in a bloody sheet Usagi cried out standing on her thin legs as she looked down at her father's fallen body.
Usagi kept screaming. Crying, pulling her hair out in panic!
Shingo… he remained quiet staring at the body for a second. And when he spoke, he didn't lift away his eyes.
"I did it for you Usagi!" he screeched. "For you!"
"No! No! No! No! No! Nonononononononononononon!" Usagi responded.
Shingo just stared. He killed his father. Well a man who once was his father.
A panicking Usagi dropped down, picked up the revolver and looked at Shingo with an odd teary conflagration in her eyes. Usagi lifted a hand and struck Shingo sharply across the face waking the poor boy up but not to realize that she meant it in his foolhardiness. Usagi was angry but she knew it was HER fault. ALL her fault. She'd put the responsibility of ending her nightmares on her twelve-year-old brother. It was all Usagi's fault she felt. She didn't tell anyone! She didn't tell anyoneeeeeeeeeeeee! And now this! Her dad could've been HELPED!
Shingo and Usagi looked at each other eyes. Both ravaged once healthy kids.
"Get dressed," she hissed. Shingo just stood and looked at her. "GO!" she roared pushing him out of her room and slamming the door in his poor face. Usagi reacted wrongly once again. Shingo was just as afraid as she was and she was pushing him away.
Standing in front of the door Shingo explained once again that he had no choice and started crying rubbing his eyes as he patted off toward his room. Shingo hit the switch and moved on toward his clothes wondering all along what Usagi was up to. What did she have planned? They were leaving that was obvious. But now… could Usagi take care of him? Could just the two of them make it now? The way he wanted it to be but not exactly with two dead parents.
"Oh god," Shingo choked as he just stared at his clothes settled in his drawer. "Both of my parents… dead."
And so… the twelve year old boy crouched into a ball and let loose his tears apprehending everything all too well now.
First his mother was killed while driving home and now his own hands killed his father.
Shingo cried for what seemed like hours eventually leading him back to his bed where he tried to sleep away the hellish nightmare.
It wasn't until Usagi came barging through the door in a rush did he move and once again Usagi started to demand and order, demand and order. Pushing and rushing Shingo ahead until he was dressed. The kids threw several of their belongings and clothes into book bags. And just before Shingo left his room he moved over toward his nightstand and took the picture of his family in his hands. He stared at his. His mother, his healthy father, his sister, and himself.
Maybe we can go live with Grandma and Grandpa, he thought to himself.
Usagi grabbed his arms and pulled.
Just as the two hit the downstairs landing came the swirling lights and sirens of the Tokyo Police force.
Usagi began to lose her nerves but managed to hold on at some point as she moved from the front door escape to the back holding her brother's hand tightly. They had to go! This wasn't their home anymore and all the tears they had… well… they had to hold them.
Usagi threw open the back door and her and Shingo dashed off into the night on that summers eve not quite knowing where they were going. But Usagi had a dream, if anything she'd like to escape to America.
Empty.
That's how the home of the once happy-hearted Tsukino residence was. Dead and empty. Turned to stone. Lost faith. Stopping somewhere in the drifts of time.
The Tokyo Police had got the report by the neighbors claiming there was gunfire going off and a lot of awful screaming.
And in he stepped. Detective Chiba Mamoru.
"Well what do we have here?" he asked upon approaching the room full of detective, paramedics, and cops. Down on the roughed ness of the carpet was a body obvious, covered in a sheet by the paramedics on arrival.
Mamoru removed the yellow toothpick from his mouth and stepped back in his sharp flashy black suit stepping next to a fellow partner, lover, and best friend Motoki who was in opposing dressy old-fashion brown.
"A body," the blond Motoki replied. Then he turned toward the crew at hand. "Let's show detective Mamoru what we got here."
The crewman dusting for prints nodded and pulled the sheet off to the torso of body which was still face down. Mamoru didn't flinch. Seen it all before. Someone amidst the crowd in the small room took a snap shot of the body. A brown headed man with glasses, pale as ever and slim.
A body… Mamoru repeated in his head then started eyeing the room asking Motoki questions.
Motoki followed Mamoru explaining. "Apparently a little boy and girl live here. Both disappeared. The murder weapon can't be found but there is the bullet. Maybe we can get some prints from it. We're looking at a murder and kidnap here."
Mamoru shook his head disagreeing and wrenched up his nose as he looked at the posters on the wall of the girls' room. Mina Spears fan he saw. Mamoru took a few more steps around the room with Motoki following as they conversant about the matters at hand. It was a picture of the young female owner of the room that caught Mamoru's eyes. The picture was taped on the mirror, a small tiny snapshot. It was a young pretty girl Mamoru noticed first. Very attractive but not his "type," and too young. She had large sweet blue eyes and long blond hair worn in buns and pigtails.
It kind of quivered inside Mamoru to wonder why in the world would the girl keep a picture of her lone self posted on her mirror along with the several others of her friends and family. He shrugged it off, not really liking the idea of looking at a picture of himself and no one else.
And with that Mamoru reached to pull the picture from the mirror. Motoki caught his warm hands in mid reach and the two men eyed each other passionately as usual but at this scenario determined.
"What're doing Mamoru? This is a crime scene," persisted Motoki in a low voice.
Mamoru narrowed his dark almond shape eyes and felt the worries on Motoki's young handsome face finding himself so mesmerized and slowly curving a smile.
"You worry too much Motoki," Mamoru answered. "It'll be okay just this once. Let's leave the chief out of this."
Motoki and Mamoru eyed each other both grinning, Mamoru brushing a soft hand against Motoki's redden cheeks. And naturally Mamoru walked away with the picture in hand studying it. Learning every curvature of it. The young girl. Mamoru had to find her. This link… this feeling inside of him was telling him something.
As Mamoru left out he ordered one of the crime scene crewmen to give him a full autopsy report on his desk the next morning. In the meantime Mamoru's mind was on soaking in a nice warm bath with candlelight.
Usagi tried over and over again to wipe away the tears but they came back over and over again like a dripping faucet. She bent her thin body over the cold porcelain sink and looked at her deep swallowed eyes in the large mirror of the ladies washroom of the nearest all-night café.
Behind her behind a closed stall stood Shingo. His head leaning against the door of the stall also tracing a teary atmosphere. Both, broken-hearted and afraid as ever. A couple of kids feeling lost with nowhere to go.
Usagi continued to mumble at herself as she wiped fiercely at the tears. Telling herself it was all her fault and that she should die. Die! Die! Die! Her mind tore at her from inside.
I wish you were DEAD, she screamed silently hoping all to cleverly at Shingo couldn't read her awful thoughts. He was the only reason she was still alive. She didn't want to give up on him. She didn't want him away from her. He was her treasure now, Shingo was too important now. No longer a young boy, but a grown man before his ages with responsibilities that were what seemed inevitable from a bland darkness.
Usagi on the other hand felt like a coward. A stupid ignorant little girl who knew better. Who knew that her father's sexual molestations and physical abuse was wrong! A girl who was taught ALL these things and now is near death because of her stupidity. Her stupidity not to speak. To have hold it all in and because a distant dark creature. Someone who couldn't smile.
Usagi's fault! That's all it felt like. If only she'd told someone and didn't dump her rotten vibes on her sibling to allow him to take action. Proud that he cared so much about her, but sickened to learn he was smarter and "older" than herself.
"Sis, don't cry anymore," Shingo plead in a low sob-choked voice. "We'll be okay."
Without her knowing herself Usagi nodded looking down at the drain in the sink then patted the rough paper towel against her puffy eyes.
For you Shingo, she kept to herself. For you. I'm so sorry. All those times you came to talk to me. I… I was so rotten to you. I thought you wouldn't understand because you were so young. But now… you're a man Shingo and I deprived EVERY single right from you.
Usagi wiped her eyes and sniffed once more reaching into her jeans left pocket. She had to count their money again. She'd took the money from their parents hidden insurance case. She'd took her father's money. She brought her own. She brought every coin she could think of that would be lying in the house. And as she looked at the roll of monies she knew they'd have enough to last them awhile. But as far as her dreams to escape to America. It would take a miracle. She didn't have THAT much.
Usagi felt like her throat was closing again as she began to stuff the monies back away into her left pocket. Time for her to feed her and Shingo. Immediately once they entered the café they ran to the washrooms to look "decent" despite their rush.
BHAM! The washroom door flung open. Usagi yelped and turned harshly her hip banging roughly into the sink echoing pain up to her head. A sputtered tear slipped down her right eye and her blood raced. That rush of the door opening...
FLASH!
Shingo firing the gun, her father falling, her screaming, and the echoing of darkness.
Usagi tighten her eyes closed to stop the visions and stop the tears then released them of their tight hold letting out a deep breath and watched as a tall brunette dressed in leather tight pants, a bikini black top and leather jacket with biker gloves and heavy chained combat boots came looming into the washroom with a group of three carbon copying dressed girls following.
The tall brunette's greens eyes flashed once at Usagi. Usagi looked away keeping the face as a mental profile. The scar across the girl's left eye. Her wavy/curly brown hair she wore in a ponytail. The girl looked like bad news and Usagi didn't want her to get involved with her own horrible situations. Usagi didn't want to add on the tension and unease feeling of death creeping on her.
"Hey check it out," one of the girls' following the brunette pointed out Usagi.
Usagi felt sick. Why? Oh why did this have to happen to her? Why now!?
The brunette eyed Usagi up and down then smirked. Usagi prayed that that was all she'd do, and it seemed so, the brunette turned to head toward a stall but then stopped turning slowly to look back at Usagi.
Usagi's hands tightened around the porcelain-chilling sink as the tall girl came stepping in front of her. The tall girl looked down at Usagi's hands, Usagi followed her gaze and realized that that was what the girl was pointing to. The roll of monies Usagi held.
The blond took a deep breath prepared to defend her brother and their only means of survival.
The brown-headed girl looked deep into Usagi's eyes. Her green eyes like a blade of caution against Usagi's sweetened worn blue ones. The brown-headed girl cocked a smile throwing her hands on her hips and asked…
"So what's your name kid?"
Usagi noticed the deepness in the girl's voice and the deepness of the other three girls moving in blocking Usagi's exit.
Maybe they'll leave me alone! Usagi hoped. Please just leave me alone!
And so Usagi responded with a meek: "Usagi."
"That's nice," the brown-headed girl commented dryly then threw her right hand fingers against her bare collarbone. "Mines is Makoto and these are my girls," she gestured toward the other girls behind her.
Makoto eyed the roll of monies. "That yours?"
Usagi forced a nod not sure whether she should respond with a "yes" or "no" in the first place.
Makoto continued, "Well I need my nails done so I'll just take that," and reached grabbing Usagi's wrist, which held the hand that held the monies.
Usagi resisted crying for the taller, stronger girl to release her. The other three girls began to close in closer as they snickered and push into Usagi, began to claw at Usagi's with their bitter nails. Toying with the weaken blond who's life was the absolute of hell. The blond who'd lived the crash that destroyed her mother and watched her mother's body go from alive to lifeless before her very eyes. The blond who felt her father take his manhood inside his very own flesh and blood. Who'd felt the stricken pain of the palms of one she thought was her beacon of safety. The blond who felt hell and wasn't old enough to experience what it really had to offer as she grew but was took bluntly to a level near the edge. An edge which wouldn't allow her to simply jump and end the entire controversy.
So the girls laugh and picked like crows on garbage at Usagi but Usagi refused to let go of the monies even as the Makoto girl hollered words of the damned in Usagi's face and jerked and jerked and jerked at Usagi and squeezed her. Usagi only cried and began to scream feeling her father's hands on her again. Hurting her. A million of his hands. And the devil laughing. She felt herself begin halted up on top of the sink. Felt the girls began to pull at her shirt and run their hands up her shirt, touching her, rubbing her, violating her like the one person she trusted. Touching her in the wrong spots. And she couldn't scream, there was still that one hand. That one hand always there that silenced her never-ending. That horrible hand that kept her from telling. That horrible hand that remained over her mouth for so long and wouldn't allow her to escape.
The swirling redness. The heat. The girls touching her, laughing, hurting her, and nibbling at her. The heat. Usagi felt swallowed and began to go limp. She couldn't handle it. Couldn't take it anymoreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
"STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"
Then it stopped. Everything paused. Usagi… crying wet face. Eyes closed tight. Monies still held tight in her hand.
Was she saved?
She felt the hands remove themselves from her breast, from inside of her jeans, from her thighs, from her arms, from her mouth. Everything, the hands began to eradicate themselves releasing her. Her heavy breathing. Her constricted eyes. The clearing of the hand wrapped around her wrist.
And slowly… the deteriorated blond opened her eyes to find a shattered wet-faced familiar twelve year old position the barrel of a revolver aimlessly back and forth between the gang of rape raven girls who held their hands up as if being held up by the police.
"Move it!" screeched Shingo mouth throttled with slob. "Move it or I'll blow all you damn bitches to hell!"
Usagi blinked regardless of her total discomfort. Her brother, cursing. Then she remember… Shingo wasn't a kid any longer… he was a man.
"Boy I'd stomp your lil'ass," Makoto taunted only to have Shingo press the revolver in closer to her. Makoto then held off and snapped her finger. The girls began to exit giving the siblings a lot to think about and fear and a semi caress of relief. But as the girls moved out Makoto stopped before Usagi, looked at the monies and reached a hand to slap the poor girl… but Makoto stopped and her eyes soften as she looked at the quivering splintering youth and felt a small relation. Both were… lost.
Slowly Makoto lowered her hand and smirked again. With that the tall brunette was out with a bang of the door.
Usagi sighed deeply dropping her feet to the floor and snatching the revolver from Shingo.
"I only tried to-" Shingo explained but Usagi stopped him and held a finger against his lips to silence him. She kissed his forehead.
"Thank you so much Shingo," she thanked softly smile less. "Just please don't ever use this thing." Then she added dreadfully: "Again."
Shingo, so believing and hopeful but not aware of his lost nodded determined and proud at his sister and himself. "I won't let anybody try to get us."
Usagi felt herself wanting to cry again. The burdens were too strong but instead she threw the "man" into a hug and held him for so long and told him how much she loved him.
"Let's get something to eat now," Usagi suggested leading the boy carefully outside the washroom.
The two sat down at a booth and ate silently but both wanting to speak. It wasn't until the sun began to rise that Shingo had crawled over to lay his head in Usagi's lap where he drifted off to sleep while Usagi stroked his tan hair.
Usagi continued to talk to herself and continued to avoid the eyes of those who stared. Usagi tried to figure out what to do. What was next? But she was too confused that she found herself… sleep… at least in dreams she might find some… peace…
Oh my god people!? So how was it!? Was it stupid? Pointless? Or too much to have the Sailor Moon people/characters apart of? Hehehehehehe, joking. Please let me know what you think, I think that'd be SO awesome to know what people feel about my little fanfic! If you hated it, why you hated it? Liked it, why you liked it? Flame me even! I mean, I figured I might get some anyway about Makoto, Kenji, and of course Mamoru and Motoki. Hahahahah, hey anyway let me know.
E-MAIL: MoonTowel18@msn.com
TITLE: Papa-Kenji, Please No More
RATED: PG (if not then let me know otherwise)
NOTE: Just a little thing I thought up following between my Sailor Moon Core story that's really an issue with a lot of families. I hope whoever likes it. Okay if you have problems with men liking men (roll eyes) then like don't read this. Although, I really wouldn't see why considering nobody's REAL here. But we all like to think that in the Sailor Moon world though don't we!? At first this was just a one-part story. Then I got to class and made it longer. Okay whatever! Just READ! Hehehehehe. Oh yeah suggestion. The music of choice: "Gone" by Madonna on the "Music" CD album. For me at least it fitted the story.
DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon 1992-2001 is Naoko's, Kodansha, you know all this mess.
THANKS: Naoko
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Papa-Kenji, Please No More~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Starke night on the eve of summer…
Shingo cringed deep in the covers of his bed as he once again was hearing the shocking surprising cries that sounded like howls from the bellow of a wolf. A wolf from his nightmares that come to haunt him and do awful things to him. The little twelve year old held his covers so tight, his poor sadden eyes ablaze glowing in the darkness of his bedroom. The glowing glaring red digits of his alarm clock seem to scream "4:37" at him as if passively on time.
And from the room up the hall…
SPU-WACK! Following that another muffled wolf cry.
Shingo tightened his teary eyes and cowered down deeper into this covers holding himself so tightly feeling like he was the only one in the world alive that felt this pain and horror.
Too many times, he would scream in his head. This has been happening too many times. Usagi-chan wasn't that bad! So why was she always in trouble at night!?
Shingo often blamed this situation on himself. After their mother's death his father wasn't the same. More demanding with a crazy wildness in his eyes that was just frightening to Shingo. And just two month… all this started, a few weeks after Shingo's mother's death. The late-night early morning cries of his sister Usagi from up the hall.
Why was this happening!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? What's WRONG with Papa-Kenji!? Why did he keep hurting Usagi and not Shingo? Usagi was a scatter-bird brain a lot. She didn't make perfect grades, but… this was just ridiculous!
Shingo felt like he'd lost his father. While he was gone Shingo would sneak into Usagi's room where she seem to stay day and night after school and on weekends. Shingo would come to comfort her, and ask her what was going on. Why was Papa-Kenji doing these awful things? One day Usagi was about to let loose on her twelve-year-old brother and tell him everything, but she turned it all around. Saw him as a child and left it at that.
And so continued the haunting nightmares Shingo endured. He knew his nightmares couldn't be as worst as Usagi's. And he didn't want to feel like a child no more and be ignored. He wanted his sister more than anything. Now that his mother was gone, and literally his father (gone in the head) Shingo felt like Usagi was his only family now.
Another sparking snap and muffled cry rang out spinning the cranes in Shingo's tender frightened bones. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to squeeze into the depths of his sheets he wouldn't disappear. Just wasn't!
Heat was consuming him. Heat, fear, and anger. Swallowing him.
No more! He couldn't deal with it anymore!
Suddenly Shingo rose up out of bed sharply ignoring all the feelings and aches and pains he had and stride out of the room. His thin boyish legs stretched out and his face covered in sweat. Shingo's eyes narrowed down in their green screening, and out he charged from his room and immediately felt himself hook a right toward his parents' once room but now just his fathers.
The kid didn't know what he was doing. Only that he was doing something. Something dangerous. He knew that for sure. It was dangerous and he was going to get it done. He was going to reshape everything! He wasn't going to take anymore. He didn't need his father but he needed his sister. So he was going to put an end to the whole situation at hand and at the same time reduce this now careless soul from his life.
Shingo pushed open his parents bedroom door seeing it sat dry in darkness except for one small nightstand light that revealed only the tiniest of showering light. Enough light for Shingo to see yet another familiar set of beer cans, cigarettes, and paper scattered everywhere. This kind of thing was everywhere in the house now. No surprise.
In the doorway Shingo paused a little breathing deeply. Every time he saw this room he remembered his mother. He remember those scared nights like these he would jump between his parents in bed-
"No!" he suddenly shouted aloud closing his eyes and covering his ears as if he didn't want to remember. He didn't. It was just too strong for him, and just as he found himself somehow weaken to take action the feelings went away and once again he frowned upward and moved on into the room stepping over beer cans toward his parents' closet.
He pulled the closet open and hit the light switch. The closet lit up and the first place Shingo focused his determined green eyes was on the several shoeboxes lining the top left shelf.
The boy wasn't ignorant at all. He knew what he came there for and he knew exactly where it was.
Shingo moved onward into the walk in closet toward the back. The smell of liquor and weed burning at his nose.
Standing on his toes he trifled through the boxes on the end of the shelf until he came across the "Red One." He tugged the box from its post and held the sudden heaviness of the box in both hands as he lowered it toward the floor of the closet.
Taking a deep breath Shingo pulled off the top and there it was.
His eyes gleamed.
The shiny Colt Python his parents owned. He took the heavily deadly weapon in his mind. Wait… what mind? Shingo was long gone at this point. The one driving the mind of this twelve year old was anger and revenge.
Loading in several bullets Shingo stood up quickly a little startled still by the weight of the gun but still able.
And so… he moved on toward Usagi's room barefoot dragging along the shaggy carpeting. Down the hall under Usagi's door was a soft, yet dangerous, warm glowing light and the continual sounds heard over and over again. Shingo managed to make it the door and shakeningly touch the knob.
He jerked away as if being electrocuted warning him not to do this, but he shook it off and reached for the knob again this time taking it in his full grasp and twisting it. Slowly he opened it showering a deadly glow into the hallway from Usagi's room. The first thing he saw was Usagi crying in a ball on her bed. A battered Usagi holding her covers naked and completely violated even to Shingo's young eyes. Shingo ignored her for that second and opened the door wider until it reveal his father at the foot of the bed just throwing his slack-pants on over his wiry body.
The large man copped an eye on Shingo then the gun and started to reach but stopped as Shingo slowly lifted the heavy weapon aimed right at his kaput father.
Usagi suddenly screamed which didn't scramble Shingo's thoughts at all. Shingo kept focus traumatized of course.
Papa-Kenji lifted up his glasses and smiled innocently at the frightened twelve year old. Usagi screamed for Shingo to stop and even made a move to stop him, her growing pale naked womanly figure lifting up before her brother. But Usagi knew better, she thought Shingo was after her too and would gladly praise him to end her life even after fifteen years.
"Well son," spoke the "demon" in questioning for the following proceedings.
Shingo pulled the trigger and that was all it was to this awful game.
BLAM!
Shingo jumped and jumped and jumped hopping to have jumped out of a dream! He closed his eyes waiting for his father to still be alive and to hold him and tell him everything was going to be all right. That nothing was going on. Shingo prayed that everything was a dream! A DREAM! That his mother never died! That he'd wake up and his parents would be standing over his head comforting him! Shingo prayed prayed prayed when-
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Thrown aback Shingo opened his eyes, saw his father sprawled face down drenching Usagi's carpet in blood, and felt sick to his stomach as he dropped the revolver. The revolver hit the floor with a THUMP resonance one beat before Shingo's heart as he just stared as his father.
Wrapped in a bloody sheet Usagi cried out standing on her thin legs as she looked down at her father's fallen body.
Usagi kept screaming. Crying, pulling her hair out in panic!
Shingo… he remained quiet staring at the body for a second. And when he spoke, he didn't lift away his eyes.
"I did it for you Usagi!" he screeched. "For you!"
"No! No! No! No! No! Nonononononononononononon!" Usagi responded.
Shingo just stared. He killed his father. Well a man who once was his father.
A panicking Usagi dropped down, picked up the revolver and looked at Shingo with an odd teary conflagration in her eyes. Usagi lifted a hand and struck Shingo sharply across the face waking the poor boy up but not to realize that she meant it in his foolhardiness. Usagi was angry but she knew it was HER fault. ALL her fault. She'd put the responsibility of ending her nightmares on her twelve-year-old brother. It was all Usagi's fault she felt. She didn't tell anyone! She didn't tell anyoneeeeeeeeeeeee! And now this! Her dad could've been HELPED!
Shingo and Usagi looked at each other eyes. Both ravaged once healthy kids.
"Get dressed," she hissed. Shingo just stood and looked at her. "GO!" she roared pushing him out of her room and slamming the door in his poor face. Usagi reacted wrongly once again. Shingo was just as afraid as she was and she was pushing him away.
Standing in front of the door Shingo explained once again that he had no choice and started crying rubbing his eyes as he patted off toward his room. Shingo hit the switch and moved on toward his clothes wondering all along what Usagi was up to. What did she have planned? They were leaving that was obvious. But now… could Usagi take care of him? Could just the two of them make it now? The way he wanted it to be but not exactly with two dead parents.
"Oh god," Shingo choked as he just stared at his clothes settled in his drawer. "Both of my parents… dead."
And so… the twelve year old boy crouched into a ball and let loose his tears apprehending everything all too well now.
First his mother was killed while driving home and now his own hands killed his father.
Shingo cried for what seemed like hours eventually leading him back to his bed where he tried to sleep away the hellish nightmare.
It wasn't until Usagi came barging through the door in a rush did he move and once again Usagi started to demand and order, demand and order. Pushing and rushing Shingo ahead until he was dressed. The kids threw several of their belongings and clothes into book bags. And just before Shingo left his room he moved over toward his nightstand and took the picture of his family in his hands. He stared at his. His mother, his healthy father, his sister, and himself.
Maybe we can go live with Grandma and Grandpa, he thought to himself.
Usagi grabbed his arms and pulled.
Just as the two hit the downstairs landing came the swirling lights and sirens of the Tokyo Police force.
Usagi began to lose her nerves but managed to hold on at some point as she moved from the front door escape to the back holding her brother's hand tightly. They had to go! This wasn't their home anymore and all the tears they had… well… they had to hold them.
Usagi threw open the back door and her and Shingo dashed off into the night on that summers eve not quite knowing where they were going. But Usagi had a dream, if anything she'd like to escape to America.
Empty.
That's how the home of the once happy-hearted Tsukino residence was. Dead and empty. Turned to stone. Lost faith. Stopping somewhere in the drifts of time.
The Tokyo Police had got the report by the neighbors claiming there was gunfire going off and a lot of awful screaming.
And in he stepped. Detective Chiba Mamoru.
"Well what do we have here?" he asked upon approaching the room full of detective, paramedics, and cops. Down on the roughed ness of the carpet was a body obvious, covered in a sheet by the paramedics on arrival.
Mamoru removed the yellow toothpick from his mouth and stepped back in his sharp flashy black suit stepping next to a fellow partner, lover, and best friend Motoki who was in opposing dressy old-fashion brown.
"A body," the blond Motoki replied. Then he turned toward the crew at hand. "Let's show detective Mamoru what we got here."
The crewman dusting for prints nodded and pulled the sheet off to the torso of body which was still face down. Mamoru didn't flinch. Seen it all before. Someone amidst the crowd in the small room took a snap shot of the body. A brown headed man with glasses, pale as ever and slim.
A body… Mamoru repeated in his head then started eyeing the room asking Motoki questions.
Motoki followed Mamoru explaining. "Apparently a little boy and girl live here. Both disappeared. The murder weapon can't be found but there is the bullet. Maybe we can get some prints from it. We're looking at a murder and kidnap here."
Mamoru shook his head disagreeing and wrenched up his nose as he looked at the posters on the wall of the girls' room. Mina Spears fan he saw. Mamoru took a few more steps around the room with Motoki following as they conversant about the matters at hand. It was a picture of the young female owner of the room that caught Mamoru's eyes. The picture was taped on the mirror, a small tiny snapshot. It was a young pretty girl Mamoru noticed first. Very attractive but not his "type," and too young. She had large sweet blue eyes and long blond hair worn in buns and pigtails.
It kind of quivered inside Mamoru to wonder why in the world would the girl keep a picture of her lone self posted on her mirror along with the several others of her friends and family. He shrugged it off, not really liking the idea of looking at a picture of himself and no one else.
And with that Mamoru reached to pull the picture from the mirror. Motoki caught his warm hands in mid reach and the two men eyed each other passionately as usual but at this scenario determined.
"What're doing Mamoru? This is a crime scene," persisted Motoki in a low voice.
Mamoru narrowed his dark almond shape eyes and felt the worries on Motoki's young handsome face finding himself so mesmerized and slowly curving a smile.
"You worry too much Motoki," Mamoru answered. "It'll be okay just this once. Let's leave the chief out of this."
Motoki and Mamoru eyed each other both grinning, Mamoru brushing a soft hand against Motoki's redden cheeks. And naturally Mamoru walked away with the picture in hand studying it. Learning every curvature of it. The young girl. Mamoru had to find her. This link… this feeling inside of him was telling him something.
As Mamoru left out he ordered one of the crime scene crewmen to give him a full autopsy report on his desk the next morning. In the meantime Mamoru's mind was on soaking in a nice warm bath with candlelight.
Usagi tried over and over again to wipe away the tears but they came back over and over again like a dripping faucet. She bent her thin body over the cold porcelain sink and looked at her deep swallowed eyes in the large mirror of the ladies washroom of the nearest all-night café.
Behind her behind a closed stall stood Shingo. His head leaning against the door of the stall also tracing a teary atmosphere. Both, broken-hearted and afraid as ever. A couple of kids feeling lost with nowhere to go.
Usagi continued to mumble at herself as she wiped fiercely at the tears. Telling herself it was all her fault and that she should die. Die! Die! Die! Her mind tore at her from inside.
I wish you were DEAD, she screamed silently hoping all to cleverly at Shingo couldn't read her awful thoughts. He was the only reason she was still alive. She didn't want to give up on him. She didn't want him away from her. He was her treasure now, Shingo was too important now. No longer a young boy, but a grown man before his ages with responsibilities that were what seemed inevitable from a bland darkness.
Usagi on the other hand felt like a coward. A stupid ignorant little girl who knew better. Who knew that her father's sexual molestations and physical abuse was wrong! A girl who was taught ALL these things and now is near death because of her stupidity. Her stupidity not to speak. To have hold it all in and because a distant dark creature. Someone who couldn't smile.
Usagi's fault! That's all it felt like. If only she'd told someone and didn't dump her rotten vibes on her sibling to allow him to take action. Proud that he cared so much about her, but sickened to learn he was smarter and "older" than herself.
"Sis, don't cry anymore," Shingo plead in a low sob-choked voice. "We'll be okay."
Without her knowing herself Usagi nodded looking down at the drain in the sink then patted the rough paper towel against her puffy eyes.
For you Shingo, she kept to herself. For you. I'm so sorry. All those times you came to talk to me. I… I was so rotten to you. I thought you wouldn't understand because you were so young. But now… you're a man Shingo and I deprived EVERY single right from you.
Usagi wiped her eyes and sniffed once more reaching into her jeans left pocket. She had to count their money again. She'd took the money from their parents hidden insurance case. She'd took her father's money. She brought her own. She brought every coin she could think of that would be lying in the house. And as she looked at the roll of monies she knew they'd have enough to last them awhile. But as far as her dreams to escape to America. It would take a miracle. She didn't have THAT much.
Usagi felt like her throat was closing again as she began to stuff the monies back away into her left pocket. Time for her to feed her and Shingo. Immediately once they entered the café they ran to the washrooms to look "decent" despite their rush.
BHAM! The washroom door flung open. Usagi yelped and turned harshly her hip banging roughly into the sink echoing pain up to her head. A sputtered tear slipped down her right eye and her blood raced. That rush of the door opening...
FLASH!
Shingo firing the gun, her father falling, her screaming, and the echoing of darkness.
Usagi tighten her eyes closed to stop the visions and stop the tears then released them of their tight hold letting out a deep breath and watched as a tall brunette dressed in leather tight pants, a bikini black top and leather jacket with biker gloves and heavy chained combat boots came looming into the washroom with a group of three carbon copying dressed girls following.
The tall brunette's greens eyes flashed once at Usagi. Usagi looked away keeping the face as a mental profile. The scar across the girl's left eye. Her wavy/curly brown hair she wore in a ponytail. The girl looked like bad news and Usagi didn't want her to get involved with her own horrible situations. Usagi didn't want to add on the tension and unease feeling of death creeping on her.
"Hey check it out," one of the girls' following the brunette pointed out Usagi.
Usagi felt sick. Why? Oh why did this have to happen to her? Why now!?
The brunette eyed Usagi up and down then smirked. Usagi prayed that that was all she'd do, and it seemed so, the brunette turned to head toward a stall but then stopped turning slowly to look back at Usagi.
Usagi's hands tightened around the porcelain-chilling sink as the tall girl came stepping in front of her. The tall girl looked down at Usagi's hands, Usagi followed her gaze and realized that that was what the girl was pointing to. The roll of monies Usagi held.
The blond took a deep breath prepared to defend her brother and their only means of survival.
The brown-headed girl looked deep into Usagi's eyes. Her green eyes like a blade of caution against Usagi's sweetened worn blue ones. The brown-headed girl cocked a smile throwing her hands on her hips and asked…
"So what's your name kid?"
Usagi noticed the deepness in the girl's voice and the deepness of the other three girls moving in blocking Usagi's exit.
Maybe they'll leave me alone! Usagi hoped. Please just leave me alone!
And so Usagi responded with a meek: "Usagi."
"That's nice," the brown-headed girl commented dryly then threw her right hand fingers against her bare collarbone. "Mines is Makoto and these are my girls," she gestured toward the other girls behind her.
Makoto eyed the roll of monies. "That yours?"
Usagi forced a nod not sure whether she should respond with a "yes" or "no" in the first place.
Makoto continued, "Well I need my nails done so I'll just take that," and reached grabbing Usagi's wrist, which held the hand that held the monies.
Usagi resisted crying for the taller, stronger girl to release her. The other three girls began to close in closer as they snickered and push into Usagi, began to claw at Usagi's with their bitter nails. Toying with the weaken blond who's life was the absolute of hell. The blond who'd lived the crash that destroyed her mother and watched her mother's body go from alive to lifeless before her very eyes. The blond who felt her father take his manhood inside his very own flesh and blood. Who'd felt the stricken pain of the palms of one she thought was her beacon of safety. The blond who felt hell and wasn't old enough to experience what it really had to offer as she grew but was took bluntly to a level near the edge. An edge which wouldn't allow her to simply jump and end the entire controversy.
So the girls laugh and picked like crows on garbage at Usagi but Usagi refused to let go of the monies even as the Makoto girl hollered words of the damned in Usagi's face and jerked and jerked and jerked at Usagi and squeezed her. Usagi only cried and began to scream feeling her father's hands on her again. Hurting her. A million of his hands. And the devil laughing. She felt herself begin halted up on top of the sink. Felt the girls began to pull at her shirt and run their hands up her shirt, touching her, rubbing her, violating her like the one person she trusted. Touching her in the wrong spots. And she couldn't scream, there was still that one hand. That one hand always there that silenced her never-ending. That horrible hand that kept her from telling. That horrible hand that remained over her mouth for so long and wouldn't allow her to escape.
The swirling redness. The heat. The girls touching her, laughing, hurting her, and nibbling at her. The heat. Usagi felt swallowed and began to go limp. She couldn't handle it. Couldn't take it anymoreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
"STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"
Then it stopped. Everything paused. Usagi… crying wet face. Eyes closed tight. Monies still held tight in her hand.
Was she saved?
She felt the hands remove themselves from her breast, from inside of her jeans, from her thighs, from her arms, from her mouth. Everything, the hands began to eradicate themselves releasing her. Her heavy breathing. Her constricted eyes. The clearing of the hand wrapped around her wrist.
And slowly… the deteriorated blond opened her eyes to find a shattered wet-faced familiar twelve year old position the barrel of a revolver aimlessly back and forth between the gang of rape raven girls who held their hands up as if being held up by the police.
"Move it!" screeched Shingo mouth throttled with slob. "Move it or I'll blow all you damn bitches to hell!"
Usagi blinked regardless of her total discomfort. Her brother, cursing. Then she remember… Shingo wasn't a kid any longer… he was a man.
"Boy I'd stomp your lil'ass," Makoto taunted only to have Shingo press the revolver in closer to her. Makoto then held off and snapped her finger. The girls began to exit giving the siblings a lot to think about and fear and a semi caress of relief. But as the girls moved out Makoto stopped before Usagi, looked at the monies and reached a hand to slap the poor girl… but Makoto stopped and her eyes soften as she looked at the quivering splintering youth and felt a small relation. Both were… lost.
Slowly Makoto lowered her hand and smirked again. With that the tall brunette was out with a bang of the door.
Usagi sighed deeply dropping her feet to the floor and snatching the revolver from Shingo.
"I only tried to-" Shingo explained but Usagi stopped him and held a finger against his lips to silence him. She kissed his forehead.
"Thank you so much Shingo," she thanked softly smile less. "Just please don't ever use this thing." Then she added dreadfully: "Again."
Shingo, so believing and hopeful but not aware of his lost nodded determined and proud at his sister and himself. "I won't let anybody try to get us."
Usagi felt herself wanting to cry again. The burdens were too strong but instead she threw the "man" into a hug and held him for so long and told him how much she loved him.
"Let's get something to eat now," Usagi suggested leading the boy carefully outside the washroom.
The two sat down at a booth and ate silently but both wanting to speak. It wasn't until the sun began to rise that Shingo had crawled over to lay his head in Usagi's lap where he drifted off to sleep while Usagi stroked his tan hair.
Usagi continued to talk to herself and continued to avoid the eyes of those who stared. Usagi tried to figure out what to do. What was next? But she was too confused that she found herself… sleep… at least in dreams she might find some… peace…
Oh my god people!? So how was it!? Was it stupid? Pointless? Or too much to have the Sailor Moon people/characters apart of? Hehehehehehe, joking. Please let me know what you think, I think that'd be SO awesome to know what people feel about my little fanfic! If you hated it, why you hated it? Liked it, why you liked it? Flame me even! I mean, I figured I might get some anyway about Makoto, Kenji, and of course Mamoru and Motoki. Hahahahah, hey anyway let me know.
