Memory. A simple thing, right?
Many psychiatrists agree that studying human memory is one of the
hardest parts of psychoanalytical education. Memory is subjective, collective,
vital to human contentment, and yet completely unnecessary for a healthy life.
Children struggle to remember what they ate for breakfast, teenagers remain
bitter over yesterday's arguments with friends and parents, adults strive to
memorize each happy moment of their lives, and the elderly regress to not
knowing what they ate for breakfast. It's a thing that all people share, and
yet something that no one can completely understand.
Serenity knew this as she walked across the marble dais and up to the
pedestal. As the Queen of the Earth, she had studied many subjects in and out
of the university, and psychology had been one of her favorites. She especially
loved the sections about memory and memory loss. Amnesia, selective memory
loss, photographic memory, memorization techniques... She knew and loved it
all. Not a day went by when she regaled one of us with her newest memory-
related fact. But that had been years before, before the Black Moon and the
war between past and present, before her own daughter had died in training to
become a Sailor Senshi... It was before life had become such a task.
I suppose that her action should not have come as a shock to any of
us. The weekly meeting of her color guard - the joking name, of course, she
had given the rest of the senshi and I - was unusually short. Serenity's
silence did not bode well, and most of what she said was cryptic.
"I have many thoughts of the past," she assured us after one of the
inners had said a few disparaging comments about her aloofness. Her blue eyes
glanced away from all of us, staring at the floor. "My thoughtfulness precedes
my words this morning."
Talk about out of character moments. Never before had the neo-queen
been so polite and soft-spoken about something. No one needed to tell me
that something was wrong. I could sense it.
And so, only a few hours later, the Queen of the Earth strode across
the dais and stood before the pedestal. She had erected the pedestal especially
for the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou - the Silver Crystal of the Moon Kingdom of
old. She was afraid that Chibi-Usa or another meddlesome being would attempt
to seize the ginzuishou, and that was too big of a risk for Serenity. So she
placed a pedestal in the darkest vault in the basement of Crystal Palace.
Rarely did a soul venture into such depths. Even the queen herself disliked
visiting her prized possession.
Until then. Then, at that moment, she seized the crystal from its
place on the dais and held it above her head. Silver light flared around her,
sparkling, a brilliant reminder of the power of the ginzuishou.
Memories flooded into the mind of the Earth's one queen. Memories of
pain, of sorrow, of suffering and loss. Memories she had wished, for so long,
to forget.
Blue eyes closed, and a voice - soft, melodious, tearful - echoed
above the hum of the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou.
"I command thee, Crystal of Silver," she breathed, "that the Sailor
Senshi of old forget all their trials and toil until the day comes for Tsukino
Usagi to accept the throne of the Earth."
I watched her as she said those few words, my gray-green gaze intent
as I stood in the doorway beside my partner. The queen had been careful in our
instructions; we were to follow her down to the vault at midnight and be silent
about it, certain to make sure that the others knew nothing. It wasn't a
difficult task, especially not when we knew just what was about to happen.
"There," smiled Serenity, setting the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou back
atop its pedestal carefully. "Everything is in place." She turned quickly,
her face that of the fifteen-year-old school girl I had met so many years
earlier. "Soon, it will begin again, just as you remember it."
Michiru glanced at me, and I glanced back at her. Part of me wanted to
remind the queen of how futile her efforts to suppress our memories would be,
but neither of us dared say anything. After all, her failure had led to our
ultimate success, and no one - not even I, the most argumentative of all the
senshi - could argue with that much.
The blonde woman chuckled pleasantly. "I know exactly what you're
thinking, Uranus," she told me. I arched an eyebrow in confusion, and her
smile broadened. "I knew all along that you and Neptune would find one another,
and that was the whole point. I wanted to make sure that you wanted to be
senshi, and the only way to test that was to test your love."
My partner swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "So this was all a trial for
Haruka and I?" she asked cautiously, her fingers toying idly with the skirt
of her fuku.
"Not completely," admitted Serenity, turning her head to glance back
at the ginzuishou. "I wanted to give you all a chance to enjoy a life without
obligation and battles, but I knew that nothing could last that long. Not when
your bond was so strong." She glanced back at the two of us and smiled again,
face bright. "It did help us find out more about who we were, though. For all
of us."
I thought about the day that I had gone channel surfing and saw all the
others on television. Ami winning the Nobel prize, Rei as a dedicated miko,
Makoto with a cooking show while Minako hosted a talk show... Somehow, she
was right. We all had found out what was left without being a soldier.
"You knew all along," I finally said, breaking the silence as the neo-
queen walked past us and toward the stairs that would lead to her bedchamber.
"You knew that the simple things in our life would lead us back to the more
complicated reality. You knew it all."
Neo-Queen Serenity, the ruler of the Earth, smiled knowingly down
at me and nodded. "I did," she admitted with a shrug. "And I'm glad I gave you
the chance to discover all that."
I smiled back at her, my hand searching for and finding Sailor
Neptune's. "Honestly," I responded, "so am I."
And, like a fairy tale, it was done.
Memories gone, memories returned, and memories being made, as though it
was a simple thing.
But then, on the other hand, perhaps it was a simple thing, all along.
Many psychiatrists agree that studying human memory is one of the
hardest parts of psychoanalytical education. Memory is subjective, collective,
vital to human contentment, and yet completely unnecessary for a healthy life.
Children struggle to remember what they ate for breakfast, teenagers remain
bitter over yesterday's arguments with friends and parents, adults strive to
memorize each happy moment of their lives, and the elderly regress to not
knowing what they ate for breakfast. It's a thing that all people share, and
yet something that no one can completely understand.
Serenity knew this as she walked across the marble dais and up to the
pedestal. As the Queen of the Earth, she had studied many subjects in and out
of the university, and psychology had been one of her favorites. She especially
loved the sections about memory and memory loss. Amnesia, selective memory
loss, photographic memory, memorization techniques... She knew and loved it
all. Not a day went by when she regaled one of us with her newest memory-
related fact. But that had been years before, before the Black Moon and the
war between past and present, before her own daughter had died in training to
become a Sailor Senshi... It was before life had become such a task.
I suppose that her action should not have come as a shock to any of
us. The weekly meeting of her color guard - the joking name, of course, she
had given the rest of the senshi and I - was unusually short. Serenity's
silence did not bode well, and most of what she said was cryptic.
"I have many thoughts of the past," she assured us after one of the
inners had said a few disparaging comments about her aloofness. Her blue eyes
glanced away from all of us, staring at the floor. "My thoughtfulness precedes
my words this morning."
Talk about out of character moments. Never before had the neo-queen
been so polite and soft-spoken about something. No one needed to tell me
that something was wrong. I could sense it.
And so, only a few hours later, the Queen of the Earth strode across
the dais and stood before the pedestal. She had erected the pedestal especially
for the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou - the Silver Crystal of the Moon Kingdom of
old. She was afraid that Chibi-Usa or another meddlesome being would attempt
to seize the ginzuishou, and that was too big of a risk for Serenity. So she
placed a pedestal in the darkest vault in the basement of Crystal Palace.
Rarely did a soul venture into such depths. Even the queen herself disliked
visiting her prized possession.
Until then. Then, at that moment, she seized the crystal from its
place on the dais and held it above her head. Silver light flared around her,
sparkling, a brilliant reminder of the power of the ginzuishou.
Memories flooded into the mind of the Earth's one queen. Memories of
pain, of sorrow, of suffering and loss. Memories she had wished, for so long,
to forget.
Blue eyes closed, and a voice - soft, melodious, tearful - echoed
above the hum of the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou.
"I command thee, Crystal of Silver," she breathed, "that the Sailor
Senshi of old forget all their trials and toil until the day comes for Tsukino
Usagi to accept the throne of the Earth."
I watched her as she said those few words, my gray-green gaze intent
as I stood in the doorway beside my partner. The queen had been careful in our
instructions; we were to follow her down to the vault at midnight and be silent
about it, certain to make sure that the others knew nothing. It wasn't a
difficult task, especially not when we knew just what was about to happen.
"There," smiled Serenity, setting the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou back
atop its pedestal carefully. "Everything is in place." She turned quickly,
her face that of the fifteen-year-old school girl I had met so many years
earlier. "Soon, it will begin again, just as you remember it."
Michiru glanced at me, and I glanced back at her. Part of me wanted to
remind the queen of how futile her efforts to suppress our memories would be,
but neither of us dared say anything. After all, her failure had led to our
ultimate success, and no one - not even I, the most argumentative of all the
senshi - could argue with that much.
The blonde woman chuckled pleasantly. "I know exactly what you're
thinking, Uranus," she told me. I arched an eyebrow in confusion, and her
smile broadened. "I knew all along that you and Neptune would find one another,
and that was the whole point. I wanted to make sure that you wanted to be
senshi, and the only way to test that was to test your love."
My partner swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "So this was all a trial for
Haruka and I?" she asked cautiously, her fingers toying idly with the skirt
of her fuku.
"Not completely," admitted Serenity, turning her head to glance back
at the ginzuishou. "I wanted to give you all a chance to enjoy a life without
obligation and battles, but I knew that nothing could last that long. Not when
your bond was so strong." She glanced back at the two of us and smiled again,
face bright. "It did help us find out more about who we were, though. For all
of us."
I thought about the day that I had gone channel surfing and saw all the
others on television. Ami winning the Nobel prize, Rei as a dedicated miko,
Makoto with a cooking show while Minako hosted a talk show... Somehow, she
was right. We all had found out what was left without being a soldier.
"You knew all along," I finally said, breaking the silence as the neo-
queen walked past us and toward the stairs that would lead to her bedchamber.
"You knew that the simple things in our life would lead us back to the more
complicated reality. You knew it all."
Neo-Queen Serenity, the ruler of the Earth, smiled knowingly down
at me and nodded. "I did," she admitted with a shrug. "And I'm glad I gave you
the chance to discover all that."
I smiled back at her, my hand searching for and finding Sailor
Neptune's. "Honestly," I responded, "so am I."
And, like a fairy tale, it was done.
Memories gone, memories returned, and memories being made, as though it
was a simple thing.
But then, on the other hand, perhaps it was a simple thing, all along.