Moon Ring
~
Prologue
The moon was a glittering half orb perched up, somewhere, lost in the limbs of the skeletal tree brushing up against her bedroom window. Tugging the coverlet around her chest, she tucked her knees up under her chin, staring out the window at the foot of her bed at the glistening stars so high above. A tiny music box, gilded gold drifting in silent ivy shapes along its edges, tinkled along its delicate melody. Two figures, a man of curling dark hair and gentle face, a woman of gold locks and blushing countenance, danced forever together, hands melded into indistinguishable lumps that could never be separated. Slowly, the melody began to fade, plinking slower and slower until there was one last, soft note. Then silence.
Usagi leaned forward and lifted the music box up off the swath of thick blankets balanced on the edge of her bed, supported by the firm whitewashed wall. Looking at the figures, she sighed quietly, pressing the lid down gently, watching with childlike blue eyes as the figures were pushed down into the inner chambers of the palm-sized box. "Sleep well," she told them, and set it down on her dresser, next to her brooch, the silver diamond-like jewel easily the size of her china doll fist. Crystalline depths were made murky and frighteningly shadowed by the eclipsing darkness of her room.
The young girl, merely fourteen years in age, shifted off her bed, dropping the coverlet to the mattress and creeping across the carpet to the window, nightgown hanging loose at her collar, strings untied at the top, though knotted lower, so as to preserve modesty. She pressed her palms against the night-cooled glass, knocking her forehead dully against the smooth surface as she looked up at the pearl moon, between the reaching arms of the tree.
"I wish," she said suddenly, the sound of her own light voice startling her a bit in the silence, and she stopped, for a moment. After a heartbeat, she began again. "I wish I could have a Great Adventure," came the words, decisive and clear, "and fall in love with a Wonderful Hero." Tilting her head to one side, she thought quickly for a few seconds. "Please," she added respectfully, to whatever higher being was listening to her.
Satisfied, she pushed herself away from the glass and, lifting her nightgown's simple, straight skirt, she tiptoed back to her bed, hoping she hadn't woken her parents or Shingo.
Usagi closed her eyes, snuggled under the covers contentedly, and never saw the brief twinkle that lit her brooch's crystal.
November 8, 2001.
~
Prologue
The moon was a glittering half orb perched up, somewhere, lost in the limbs of the skeletal tree brushing up against her bedroom window. Tugging the coverlet around her chest, she tucked her knees up under her chin, staring out the window at the foot of her bed at the glistening stars so high above. A tiny music box, gilded gold drifting in silent ivy shapes along its edges, tinkled along its delicate melody. Two figures, a man of curling dark hair and gentle face, a woman of gold locks and blushing countenance, danced forever together, hands melded into indistinguishable lumps that could never be separated. Slowly, the melody began to fade, plinking slower and slower until there was one last, soft note. Then silence.
Usagi leaned forward and lifted the music box up off the swath of thick blankets balanced on the edge of her bed, supported by the firm whitewashed wall. Looking at the figures, she sighed quietly, pressing the lid down gently, watching with childlike blue eyes as the figures were pushed down into the inner chambers of the palm-sized box. "Sleep well," she told them, and set it down on her dresser, next to her brooch, the silver diamond-like jewel easily the size of her china doll fist. Crystalline depths were made murky and frighteningly shadowed by the eclipsing darkness of her room.
The young girl, merely fourteen years in age, shifted off her bed, dropping the coverlet to the mattress and creeping across the carpet to the window, nightgown hanging loose at her collar, strings untied at the top, though knotted lower, so as to preserve modesty. She pressed her palms against the night-cooled glass, knocking her forehead dully against the smooth surface as she looked up at the pearl moon, between the reaching arms of the tree.
"I wish," she said suddenly, the sound of her own light voice startling her a bit in the silence, and she stopped, for a moment. After a heartbeat, she began again. "I wish I could have a Great Adventure," came the words, decisive and clear, "and fall in love with a Wonderful Hero." Tilting her head to one side, she thought quickly for a few seconds. "Please," she added respectfully, to whatever higher being was listening to her.
Satisfied, she pushed herself away from the glass and, lifting her nightgown's simple, straight skirt, she tiptoed back to her bed, hoping she hadn't woken her parents or Shingo.
Usagi closed her eyes, snuggled under the covers contentedly, and never saw the brief twinkle that lit her brooch's crystal.
November 8, 2001.
