The first R arc in the 90s anime has been the inspiration for some really great fics, the most recent being Daikon's "R is for Reverse" and Floraone's "I Love You VR Much" and many more. I am indebted to it all for the inspiration behind this idea.
This is gonna be an undertaking, I've kept it under wraps as my "secret project" for a while while I planned and took notes (watching and rewatching and rewatching the first R arc is hard work -pfft- but someone's gotta do it).
Thanks to Floraone for beta'ing!
The writing style is also a bit of a new direction for me, and although I haven't read them in over two decades, the influence of Pandora's fics from the 90s, and Jen Wand's DiC dub based 'Darien's View', cannot be denied.
It wasn't the first time I'd met her.
Well, obviously, you already know that. But what I mean by that is, even I knew it wasn't the first time I'd met her. It may have been the first time after everything - the battles and the blood and the betrayal - after the Silver Crystal decided to treat the very laws of time and death as caviliarly as its mistress treated math tests… but I'm getting ahead of myself.
I never bothered to examine how exactly I knew the pigtailed blonde with the high-pitched voice and the appalling study habits, because she'd just always kind of been there.
When was the first time you rode in an elevator? Went grocery shopping? Or were those things you just did without considering their beginnings?
What I'm trying to say - very poorly I admit - is that to me, Odango Atama was a fixture of Juuban, and riling her up was something I did as habitually as going to the market.
So, when her careless test paper hit my head, the words, "Looks to me like you better study harder next time, Odango Atama," were on my lips before I even realized it. It was as natural as breathing.
"How rude!" she'd cried, yanking the paper back. She made a face at me and whirled around to mutter to her friend - (I caught 'Jerk in his purple pleated pants!' and the laugh I choked down felt natural, too.)
Anyway, no, there wasn't a spark of recognition or instant attraction or anything to tell me this interaction meant anything. That she meant anything. I wish there was, that this story was a love-at-first-sight, instant soulmate fairy tale. I'm sure Usako would spin an entirely different story, but I am striving for accuracy. And, if she does bring it up, do remind her she told Naru that I was "nothing like her actual dream guy", will you?
The meteor hit that very night, and it seemed like all of Juuban was out to gawk at it - unsurprisingly. Between the murmurs and above the din, I heard a familiar voice say: "Quit pushing!"
"Hey, it's Odango Atama!" I said, but I was too far away for her to hear. She was busy talking to some taller girl next to her.
I wove my way past a couple standing next to me, and squeezed between some gawking high schoolers, and pushed past a mother holding a sleepy toddler, until I was only a couple people away from her in the crowd. And she still hadn't noticed me!
Odango Atama was staring in awe … not at the crater, but at a flyer for candy!
"No way! All candy is 80% off! Sounds like my kinda place!"
I stood on my toes and directed my voice over the heads of the people between us. "If all you ever eat are sweets, you'll turn your body into a giant odango too."
"I know that obnoxious voice," she growled to the flyer.
She finally turned to glare at me, and I didn't even try to fight the grin that split my face. "Hey, what's up, Odango Atama?"
The crowd thinned out enough she was able to march right up to me, brandishing the paper like a weapon. "Only you call me that!" she cried, as if that fact was meant to discourage me. "You need to quit calling me Odango Atama all the time!"
She made to turn but I was already responding: "The thought of Odango head turning into Odango body is almost too much for me to take," I laughed.
"Oh yeah!?" She stepped closer, and now, crater and candy flyer forgotten: I now had Odango Atama's full attention. There was no better feeling, honestly. "Well… you're a butt head!"
"A butt head?" I said. "Really? That's pathetic."
How was I so oblivious to the significance of the crater, the danger lurking so nearby, or the sheer gravitational pull this diminutive blonde had over me? I was completely cut off from the extrasensory abilities I'd become accustomed to in the past, and I didn't even realize it.
Those powers - using and sensing emotions, prophetic dreams, the ability to create weaponized flowers - were locked away and I didn't even remember having them in the first place.
I should have sensed my planet was under attack once again, but instead I walked home with an amused smile on my lips that I never questioned.
Around me, a story unfolded I wouldn't truly be a part of until the very end - a spectator where I should have been a protagonist. So this is the story told here, one from the sidelines, one where things happened to me instead of with me.
For example, the part time job at the TV station was one of those things.
It wasn't even my job, it was Hiroshi Yugata's, but he got sick and my media studies professor 'put in a word' and before I knew it I was 'volunteered' to fill in for a week at an internship at a local studio. Good thing I know how to work a coffee maker and carry boxes around, I guess. At least it would look good on a resume.
I was doing well in school, getting along at the internship and comfortable financially. My life was headed in a very predictable trajectory - completely uncomplicated, peaceful and utterly boring. At the time, I was content but not happy. At least, not as happy as I could have been. But how was I to know what it was I needed, what was missing in my life?
"Hey there, Mamoru!" Suddenly, a petite blonde was super-glued to my arm and the banality of the day shattered like so much personal space.
"Woah!" To say I was startled would be an understatement, "L-let go! What's going on?" Clearly this girl had to have me mistaken for someone else, right? But how did she know my name?
"You know perfectly well what's going on!" she admonished, and it was at that moment I recognized who it was.
Odango Atama, of the red cheeks and murderous eyes, the girl who thought 'butt head' was the comeback of the century. She was definitely not the hug-your-arm-and-snuggle type. At least, as far as I knew.
"Don't act so surprised," she said, rubbing her cheek into the suede of my jacket.
"But I am surprised!" I said. "How do you even know my name, Odango Atama?" Were we on a first name basis with each other? Since when?
"Come on! There's nothing endearing about the name Odango Atama!" she said, clearly offended, but still not letting go of my arm. "When we're out in public together, why not just call me Usagi?"
About seventeen alarm bells were blasting in my brain all at the same time, about broken boundaries and out of character behavior and how I needed my arm back, thank-you-very-much, but drowning it out was this new piece of information that slipped into my brain like a missing puzzle piece.
"Your name is Usagi? Good to know."
"What? I can't believe it! How could you forget my name, Mamoru?"
And now I WAS panicking that I was supposed to know her name. My mind searched back, again trying to recall when, exactly, I had met her for the first time - only to hit an uncomfortable, almost sickening wave of nothingness.
"Hey… do you have a fever or something?" That had to explain it. She was sick! Hallucinating! Oh god, where was Motoki when you needed him? He was just the type of person who'd tenderly care for a sick acquaintance. Me, all I could manage was a not particularly caring: "What's the matter with you?"
Then things went from strange to… well, stranger.
"Hey Tsukino!"
"Natsumi?" Odango Atama murmured, and she loosened her hold on my arm. Having space between our bodies again felt unsettlingly like coming up from underwater.
And suddenly this redhead is running straight into traffic, screaming at Od- Usagi - to hold on to me and keep me from getting away. Away from what, I didn't know, but caught in some crazy, junior high girl tag-team was the last place I wanted to be.
"What? Another weirdo! Oh man." Leave it to Odango Atama to put me in the middle of this - this - whatever it was! I guess she really was mad about the 'odango body' comment.
"Let go of me, I'm gonna be late for work!"
I wasn't actually going to be late, I'd actually planned on meandering my way to the TV station at a leisurely pace, but now I wanted more than anything in the world to get away from these two. Get away from the weird way Odango Atama was acting, whatever scheme she'd cooked up with her redheaded friend. This wasn't the way she and I usually interacted - me, smirking and in control, and her angry and losing it - this was something else entirely and I did NOT like it.
"You got a job? What kind of work do you do? Where do you have to go?" Odango Atama called after me.
"That's really none of your business!" I called over my shoulder.
Until this point we hadn't even known each other's names (at least, I didn't think we did). I didn't have the inclination to have a personal conversation with the weirdest, most confusing girl I'd ever met.
Anyway, turns out it was lucky I'd gotten to the studio early, today was some big audition for a drama they were going to start filming, and there was a massive amount of work to do getting things ready and organizing sign ups and catering to an actress named Mikan Shiratori, who was there that day to help pick the actress who would play her sister.
Miss Shiratori was cool and dismissive when I was introduced to her, which was actually a bit of relief after the attention I'd gotten on the street earlier.
And no, I was not at all aware of the pandemonium on the audition stage, not aware of Sailor Moon transforming mere feet from where I was sorting headshots and finding Miss Shiratori a diet melon soda.
I did, however, discover Miss Shiratori collapsed on the floor, unresponsive, and had the presence of mind enough to call an ambulance and my supervisor. So, at least I wasn't completely useless.
Sailor Moon being in danger used to render me unconscious in the street, overcome with the urge to protect her. Now, that compulsion battled uselessly against the constraints placed by the Silver Crystal, which left me blissfully unaware of anything unusual or urgent. Somewhere deep inside, my soul was screaming with the anguish of a thousand years old love, but I was oblivious.
In my defense, the Moon Princess is extraordinarily powerful, if a bit short-sighted with her decisions.
And anyway, I found my way around it, didn't I?
"Mamoru! Hey, Chibaaa Mamoru!"
Yes, that was my name being called loudly on the sparsely crowded, tree-lined Tokyo street. But I don't think my name had ever been called in that high pitch and enthusiastic warbling, I almost didn't turn around. "Uh… huh…?"
"It's me! Ginga Nastumi, remember?" It was the girl from before, bright hazel eyes sparkling into mine. "I met you the other day!"
"Oh. Right." There was a beat. "Well. I better…," I gestured forward to signal that I was on my way somewhere.
Instead of a farewell, she dug her heels in firmer, going so far as to grab my hand. "There is a great disco that's near here… would you like to go there with me?"
"Um… that's an odd offer. Disco died decades ago." I grabbed my hand back and stuffed it in my pocket. I wanted to tell her no, tell her I wasn't interested in dating at all - I was too busy and too much of a loner and that even without psychometry, the feel of her hand on mine was… wrong.
Undeterred, and apparently not one to take a hint, Ginga started babbling about karaoke, even singing loudly. I shut my eyes, a headache building along the bridge of my nose. 'Please make her stop,' I begged the universe.
"That's enough! You sound like a dying dog!" The universe had sent help after all, help in the form of a very miffed Odango'ed bodyguard, jumping between me and Ginga with her arms out. She sounded like her old, feisty self - none of that strange arm grabbing or insisting on a first name basis. That made me smile.
"Hey, Odango Atama."
"Mamoru," she turned, and looked right at me with the softest, most expressive, most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.
It was petrifying.
"Please, try to remember!"
It was a gut punch, really, to hear those words. I was so meticulous, so careful - making sure I never lost time or got confused. I never got too drunk at parties, so I wouldn't ever black out and not remember the night. The doctors had always said I healed completely from the TBI I had as a child - but there were also things to look out for. And after forgetting my parents, I never wanted to forget anything again.
I told myself that she hadn't meant it, that Odango Atama was young, and her silly joke on me wasn't intended to be cruel. But I was offended and annoyed at her, anyway, walking away while she and the other girl were distracted by their prank.
I stayed annoyed at the Odango Atama for a few days after that. Or maybe annoyed isn't the right word.
But it was the only word I had.
Perhaps some part of me heard her pleas to remember and obeyed. Because that was the day Moonlight Knight appeared.
Yes, I do remember it - now. Moonlight Knight's experiences are like a very vivid dream, parallel to mine but also contradictory. He - that is, I - existed for a singular purpose only, and thus only existed for short periods of time. Moonlight Knight was fueled purely on this unadulterated, all-consuming love and devotion to Sailor Moon - all that was taken from my civilian self.
Ah, interesting thought. I hadn't considered it in terms of the Ego and Id, but I suppose if one wanted to categorize it as such it wouldn't be inaccurate, per se. I look at it through the lens of finding a loophole to the Silver Crystal's demand to forget my feelings for Usako. Sure, maybe I'll forget, but you can't stop me from manifesting the power of this love in the form of a corporal being. Nyah-nyah.
You'd be forgiven for thinking appearing mid-battle in an entirely new consciousness would have been disorienting or confusing, but it was not. On the contrary, I'd never felt more purposeful or focused. I had one job, to protect and adore Sailor Moon, and it came so easily to Moonlight Knight, unburdened as he was by Mamoru's inhibitions.
Throwing the rose was muscle memory of the best kind, a rush I had missed. For a moment, the other senshi, the snarling lion of a cardian, all of it disappeared as Sailor Moon locked eyes with me.
"Um… can you tell me… who you are?" She looked hesitant. Hopeful. I saw in that moment my beloved princess, my reluctant super heroine, my chronically late, clumsy schoolgirl. And I loved it all, so, so much.
"I am known as Moonlight Knight," I answered. My subconscious had provided the name along with the outfit, I had no reason to find it strange.
"Are you Endymion?" she asked, the name rolling off her tongue in the same soft voice as Serenity's had, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes searching and damp and so, so, blue. It was like sinking into her gaze. I wanted so badly to leap off the branch, pull her into my arms and fly far away, where nothing could ever rip us apart again.
But that was impossible. I knew that as much as I knew I loved her - with bone crushing certainty. "Sailor Moon, when the time is right, we'll be able to talk."
I knew on the deepest level I couldn't truly be with her until I was whole. I knew this as both Moonlight Knight and, although I didn't realize it at the time, as Mamoru.
"I look forward to that day," I said, truthfully. Fading away and leaving her behind was as inevitable as it was excruciating.
"Adieu."
Notes: Any dialogue during 'airtime' is taken directly from the Viz dub (I generally prefer subtitles, but it feels more natural in an English-language fic to use English language dubs as references and, as dubs go, the Viz dub of Sailor Moon is absolutely stellar), and anything off-camera will be attempted in the same cadence. (*one exception: I kept Odango Atama over BunHead. It's 2021, all Sailor Moon fans know what Odango Atama means).