Superman, a sailor moon fanfic

Superman

By Karasu lionna@execpc.com

Archived: ASMR and enchantingmuse.com

July 13, 2003

Content: Yaoi implications, a touch of sexual description, angst, songfic, dark, intentional suicide, accidental(?) suicide

Rating: PG-13/R depending how you are on these things. Best thing is to note my content warnings.

Disclaimers apply: "Superman (It's not easy)" is by Five For Fighting. Sailor Moon belongs to big companies and its original author, I take no claim to them. The plot is mine and trust me the angst and darkness is mine as well ~_~

Inspiration: The story idea comes from the following site: #20 - "One of your 'Couple' gets dead drunk, thinks they are Superman and attempts to fly off a five story building!" I trust this was supposed to inspire something humorous. There is nothing funny about this fic, okay? It's really dark… o_O

WARNING: This is really depressive and dark. I usually don't feel like crying during my own fics, but it happened with this one. Heavy, heavy angst and dark. Be forewarned.

Another important note: Seikino Seiji is Kunzite's reincarnated form and Ishida Kisho is Zoicite's reincarnated form.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
The better part of me

I step out onto the roof of our building as the sun sets and watch until long after the stars appear. I stare towards the harbor, body still. The wind plays with and tangles my shoulder-blade length hair; I never fix it. There's a bottle in my hand, and inside there's boxes more of the same, identical bottles.

I step out onto the roof, bottle in hand, staring in the same direction I look in every night, my hair always tangles, the moon always rises after the sun sets, the stars are always there even though there are nights when the clouds cover their brightness.

Routine. Fate. Destined to be thus and continue always. Turning, rotating, orbiting, shining, day in and day out. The sun rises, the sun sets, the moon is visible in the night, sometimes in the day. Spring, summer, fall, winter. Always…

Always.

I'm more than a bird…I'm more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train

My little ceremony began a few years ago, when my boyfriend and I realized that some fucked-up dreams weren't just nightmares. Well, it got rid of the monthly therapist bills. Maybe we got back our money, adding to our little income that let us scrape by decently, but I know we lost a lot more than we gained. In fact, I think we only lost. Nothing good came in return.

Friends weren't friends anymore, they were strangers, of one time only, not having years of a lifetime before them. I was no longer who I thought I was and my lover was no longer who he thought he was.

Sayonara, Seikino Seiji, beloved teenage bishonen of Crest Bend High and worshiped coworker of Crystal Bank. Sayonara, Ishida Kisho, envied genius of the university and the one Seiji loves…Loved.

It's not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees

Seikino Seiji is someone I know intimately, but is yet another person entirely. I might guess what he can think, but his mind and mine do not coexist. Actually, he's only a ghost, now. Or more properly – a mask. The mask that makes love to another mask.

Ishida Kisho was beautiful and worshiped his entire school career. Amused with their followers, Seiji and Kisho compared stories about groupies and teamed up to "ham-it-up" in public for the entertainment it gave them and the pleasure it gave their followers.

In private, they began to play touch-and-go. Instead of saying goodbye, one night Seiji leaned over in the car and caught Kisho on the lips. The next night, Kisho left his hand on Seiji's thigh while they ate at a restaurant. Over a month of the silly games, Kisho stole the keys from Seiji's car and taunted him all the way back to the apartment Kisho lived in alone while in college. Seiji was game and followed, scowling around laughter. The apartment door gave way and they fell on one another, legs kicking the door shut and keys forgotten as clothes were shed and heavy breathing filled the air.

'This can't be love…'

'Certainly… Ah! Not! Just…'

'Oh God, don't stop… Right there… Ah!'

They made love. Not just in the physical sense. The months passed and physical passion created the mold that emotions soon fell into and then became a full-fledged heart that was the vassal for their love. A love guided by themselves and silly games of touch-and-go that led to more. No Destiny or Fate interfered, no moonlight shone in their eyes and drove them together.

Just them.

Sayonara, Kisho, boku no koibito. My beloved.

Find a way to lie
About a home I'll never see

The Seikino household holds an old couple who happily pass their days drinking tea, doing chores, and reading. Once they were visited daily by Seiji and later Kisho joined. And then, one day, the younger couple disappeared. The elderly couple are alone.

The Ishida home had long ago pulled in its welcome mat against their son and his lover. Perhaps the family had known that their child wasn't actually theirs. What foresight they must have had…

I walk onto the roof, bottle in hand, the wind knots my hair, I stare at the harbor, at the water, the moon is reflected on the waves. Moon Kingdom, Silver Alliance in the Silver Millennium, Sailor Senshi, kings and queens and princes and princesses. What meanings do these have? I don't understand these things! They're not mine! I'm – !

…I used to be Seikino Seiji… But I'm really not…

…This isn't my time, my body, my city. Nothing here is mine and I'll never see what's supposed to be mine. Well, maybe I will, if I wait another millennia and am awakened by some fragile girl with long frigging pigtails trying to play Christ.

It may sound absurd…but don't be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won't you concede
Even Heroes have the right to dream

A few years ago I started going to the roof of our apartment building. I'd grab a bottle of beer on my way up and stare off into the harbor, thinking of what lay beyond the horizon. Not another continent, I didn't mean it in that sense. I was thinking more in the idea of dimension or space. Something else that I couldn't get my hands around that I think I should have. The moon hung in the sky the first night, pregnant with light it had bore in preparation for birth. It would grow thin after giving birth, disappear from sight to be seeded and grow again.

My journey became a nightly matter, watching the moon wax and wane, or wane and wax – whatever the proper phrase is. While my ceremony was a daily thing, sacred in its own right and undermining a God I had once believed in, my lover's seclusion involved a bath every seven days with the bathroom door locked tight. Only soap suds and faint stains of red greeted my sight when I came in after he was finished.

I remember when Kisho wore tank tops and T-shirts, loving to flaunt his form in front of the public to get Seiji's jealousy going so that when they came home, to this same building my lover and I live in, Seiji would make passionate love to Kisho's wanton cries for more.

My lover wears long-sleeved turtle necks and jeans. We kiss, lips smearing against one another, breath calm, even as I take his earlobe into my mouth and nibble it lightly. In. Out. Oxygen and carbon dioxide exchange in a steady pace as his hands run across my well-toned body and twirl around my nipples. In. Out. The pattern is set. The breathing gets heavier and we both sweat as pelvises meet and release is gained. I pull out and roll on my side, looking away. Beside me, my lover turns his back and sets the alarm clock.

I remember Kisho and Seiji entwined within sheets and snuggled closely as they read aloud myths or fairytales or the morning's paper. They laughed and smiled, stealing kisses and nuzzling one another as they attempted to read something serious. If Kisho was reporting news from the business section of the newspaper, Seiji would tickle him until the other gave up and then tangled their limbs together and kissed, trying to keep every bit of contact they could.

I sometimes dream about Kisho and Seiji dancing beneath a sky full of stars but no moon. They dance on the rooftop of our building and there's no beer bottles of mine. Kisho wears only a loose tank top of silky white and hip-hugging black pants. Seiji wears his hair down, combed out, and holds a rose in his teeth jokingly. His button-up shirt is open, leaving the expanse of his chest open to the warm night air. They're bare foot and they murmur lovingly to each other, laughing every now and then. They dance forever. Kisho twirls away, hand still grasped in Seiji's. They dance on the edge, but they'll never fall. I see them step into mid air, Seiji bringing his mouth to Kisho's so that the rose exchanges mouths. The thorns do not tear their lips. They are unscarred.

It's not easy to be me

Up, up and away…away from me
It's all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I'm not crazy…or anything…

They dance. The stars sing for them, and they dance to the heavens. The sky in moonless.

And they dance.

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I step out onto the roof of our building as the sun sets and watch until long after the stars appear. I stare towards the harbor. The wind knots together strands of my shoulder-blade length, pale, pale hair. There's a bottle in my hand, and inside there's a recycle bin full of identical bottles, empty. Drained, like me.

The moon is full-term again, her belly round and swollen, light spilling down on the city and embracing its descendants. Spirits of long ago are incased in mortal bodies, trapping both the souls of the past and the present so that if the person is torn about who to be, there is nothing left.

Tonight my lover has his ritual to perform. Candles are the only light in our apartment below, the bathroom is locked up tight and the bath water stopped running before I came out. I didn't wait to hear the cries of Kisho as my lover cut into him, discovering what he was made of. I don't want to hear the whimpers of that man. Seiji loved Kisho, but he couldn't save him.

I stare at the moon blindly, wondering if I might hear the cry of a werewolf, maybe see a bat change into a human-like form, or just hear the screams of a madman down the street. Night of a full moon and people go crazy, they say. The kids are hyper in schools, mischief runs high, the crime rates go up. Somewhere in the city there are sleepless warriors charging at evil with elemental power called forth by silly phrases. Somewhere in the city a little girl sleeps soundly with a little doll of the sleepless warrior with long pigtails.

Somewhere Seiji and Kisho still dance together and make love.

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet

I lift my bottle of beer to my lips but nothing more than a drop comes out. Indifferent, I turn back down the stairs and go back into our apartment. I drop the empty bottle with all the others and grab a full bottle from the fridge. I didn't know how many I had tonight, but it was different than the usual allotment. Was this an anniversary? The calendar doesn't look right to me, all blurry. It might be an old one, though. I don't think we ever replaced the one in the kitchen after the truth of our lives all came out.

As I stick my nose almost to the calendar's surface to figure out the writing on what I think is today's date, I realize that my lover is not stirring and that Kisho is not crying. My mind is confused at this realization, and I stumble along towards the bathroom and try the knob. It turns. Curious. I peek in, squinting at the poor lighting, and realize that Kisho is too exhausted from the torments my lover put him through. My lover lies in the tub, part of his face hidden amongst the bubbles.

I think I'll let him sleep. Maybe he will dream about Kisho with Seiji, kissing beneath the fire works at a carnival long ago. Maybe he'll see them playing the old game of touch-and-go before they started to join together their bodies. I close the bathroom door – I think – and head out of the apartment again. I know I didn't close the door, but who wanted into our place anyway?

The stairs seem longer than before and I trip a few times. My beer spills down my front when I get it to my lips. I guess I'm careless tonight. In my minds eye I see Kisho twirling and laughing with the rose in his mouth. Seiji waits for him with open arms.

Looking for special things inside of me

It's not easy to be me.

The moon is so bright and I can see its reflections on the waves. I want to kiss the moon, touch its brilliance and discover who it means for me to be. Seiji and Kisho are dancing on the roof beside me, I see them from the corner of my eye. They tango, giggling like school girls together, just slightly tipsy. They dance, bare feet soundless on the tarred roof. Gracefully they step, dancing on the edge of the roof, circling me until they come between me and the sight of the moon.

They dance. Beautiful. They move together, lips touching, fingers caressing. They dance. They have no visible wings, but I can feel their love as they hold hands and walk around the center their clasp makes and they ascend up an invisible stair that guides them to the stars. They will dance to their lovely music that they can only hear away from the moon's penetrating gaze. They can only truly dance among the stars.

I walk towards them, eyes on their happy faces as they dance in front of the moon. I feel their radiance penetrate me more than anything else ever has. Kisho laughs and I can see my lover's eyes on his face. Seiji smiles, and I recognize it as something I saw in a mirror long ago.

I begin to dance, my feet bare, bottle dropped from hand. I dance below them, far less gracefully, but I dance. My lover, I see him. He's not wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck, he's burning with a brightness as intense as the love emitting from Kisho and Seiji as they make their way to heaven.

'Dance with me,' I beckon my lover, grasping his ethereal hand and twirling with him, stepping to the edge and twirling with him about the boarders of the roof.

Somewhere in the city sleepless warriors call forth the elements to save the little girls sleeping with dolls of girls in sailor suits and the little boys with little tuxedos and a fake rose to attract the girls. Somewhere in the city the moon reaches its descendants and charms them into her lengthy story.

But I… I dance in time with Kisho and Seiji above me. I stare into my lover's eyes as he twirls away, our hands still touching, and he's stepping in mid air, bare feet touching the empty space like butterfly wings. I twirl towards him. We dip low.

Far, far above me Kisho and Seiji kiss and step away in the light of the stars alone. There is no moon overwhelming them. They are happy and their fingertips touch. A bright light flashes before me, but I don't care as I drift into dreams.

The rooftop is far, far above me, almost as far away as the stars. But I still see them, Kisho smiling lovingly. Kisho has my lover's smile.

~ * ~ * Owari * ~ * ~

I swear to you, I almost started crying many times while writing this and my throat felt constricted the entire time. This really touched me, which is sort of strange because I can't usually do that to myself in such a way. *Long sigh* But I'm glad I finished something… I wanted to say this is so beautiful, but I'm a little embarrassed admitting this because try not to overly praise my fanfiction in public. So… I guess I want to know what others think.

Other notes… Was Seiji's (Kunzite's) suicide accidental? *shrugs* I have my own opinion. And yes… Kisho (Zoicite) did kill himself in the tub. Actually it's another thing I have to wonder if it's accidental or not. I'm more questioning that death than Kunzite's…. *shakes head* This was too dark, IMO, for the Sailor Moon realm but… yeah.

Think I should continue with my dark thread? Lighten it up a little? Or lighten up a lot? What did people think?