Mamoru stared at the rows of ancient texts and leather-bound volumes, feeling the knot tighten in his chest. His finger traced the spines of the tomes, willing them to yield their secrets. Grabbing one, he flipped through the pages, scanning for a word, a mention, anything. The words blurred together, meaningless.
This library was one he didn't frequent too often, but it did boast impressive texts. The modern architecture boasted a modern glass facade that reflected the vibrant life outside. Soft glow of muted florescent lights illuminated the corners and made reading easy.
The large windows offered a view of the Juban Shopping District, where schoolgirls giggled as they window-shopped with shopkeepers, keeping a wary eye on them. He'd been at this for hours, scouring texts.
No matter how hard he searched, how many books he scoured, the answers he sought remained elusive. There was nothing about the Legendary Silvery Crystal that haunted his dreams, nothing that could ease the gnawing emptiness inside him.
Sliding the book back, he rubbed his temples, where a dull ache had taken root. The pain felt like a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil churning inside him, as if the weight of his unresolved feelings was pressing down on his very skull.
Three faces swam in his mind's eye: the ethereal princess from his dreams, her silver hair cascading like moonlight; Sailor Moon, fierce and brave, her determination attracting him like a moth to flame; and the "odango-atama" girl that he kept running into, her infectious laughter and warm presence stirred emotions he refused to name.
The conflict tore at him, guilt digging at his insides. How could he feel such a strong pull towards three different women? The princess called to his soul, a beacon in the fog of his forgotten past. Sailor Moon awakened a passionate protectiveness, a desire to stand by her side against any threat. And the girl… her very presence soothed him in ways he couldn't explain, even as her clumsiness left him exasperated.
Mamoru's hand clenched around a book, his knuckles white with tension. He felt like a traitor. His heart split three ways. The worst part was, he had no claim on any of them, no right to feel this anguish of perceived infidelity.
"Hey! Mamoru." Motoki waved.
Quickly he slid the book back onto the shelf, unwilling to explain why he was scouring texts about crystals.
"Furu, how are you?"
"Ugh, don't ask. I have a double shift at the arcade and two papers due."
"I feel you. I still haven't finished my paper on the ethical implications of genetic engineering."
"Mr. Ohtori's class is brutal. I had him last semester, knocked my rank from 3rd to 5th. My dad lectured me for a week."
"Benefits of not having parents," Mamoru said with a half-smile.
"Sometimes I do envy you, my friend." Motoki gripped his shoulder. "What are you doing in this section?"
"Oh, I'm thinking of taking a geology class next semester. Just checking things out."
"You and rocks?"
"Crystals."
"Interesting." Motoki glanced at the clock and startled. "Shit, I'm going to be late. Check you later. Let's get drinks soon."
"Sounds good."
Motoki darted around the corner. With a frustrated growl, he yanked another book from the shelf, flipping through its pages with desperate intensity. Nothing. Not a single mention of the crystal consuming his thoughts. He slammed the book shut, ignoring the disapproving glare from a nearby librarian.
Instinctively, his hand went to his pocket, fingers curling around the cool metal of the star locket. As always, a wave of comfort washed over him at its touch, but it was quickly followed by a sharp pang of inexplicable heartbreak. These feelings had intensified over the last month, somehow morphing into something sinister.
The locket was a paradox, soothing and painful all at once, much like these new feelings that warred within him. Mamoru leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the bookshelf, closing his eyes as he tried to center himself. He was so tired of feeling lost, of grasping at fragments of dreams and half-remembered visions.
"Who am I?" he whispered to the silent books, his voice barely audible. "Who are they to me?"
No answers came, only the musty scent of old paper and the weight of countless unknown stories. He straightened, his jaw tightening. No matter the cost, he'd find the truth. The crystal, the princess, his connection to Sailor Moon and the girl—all of it.
He turned back to the shelves, ready to continue his search. The answers were out there somewhere, hidden n the pages of history or myth. And Mamoru Chiba was nothing if not persistent.
Battling hopelessness, he scanned the titles, finally landing on a thick volume bound in deep blue leather, embossed with silver symbols. The title The Moon: Ancient Myths and Legends gleamed faintly in the dim light. Intrigued, he pulled it from the shelf.
Carefully, he turned the yellowed pages, when his gaze fell on an illustration of a moon goddess, ethereal and serene, her figure surrounded by a soft, luminescent glow. Trembling, he traced the edges of the image with a finger.
"Why are you familiar? The Goddess of the Silver Moon," he read, his heart quickening.
The image struck something deep inside of him. While he was positive it wasn't the princess from his dreams, he still knew her. Trusted her. How was that possible? No, it was just more evidence that he was going crazy. That he's lost more than his memories in the car crash.
Still, he had to read more. Flipping the page, he started to read the half-faded text.
"The Goddess wielded a mystical object of immense power."
Those words vibrated within him. They sang out to him, whispering memories of glistening pearlescent columns and brilliant glowing flowers.
"It granted extended lifespan to its chosen."
Laugher rang out in his mind. Pure as the moonlight glistening on a serene lake.
"And commanded the very forces of nature."
Hope surged within him. Could this be it? Excitement burst violently to life in his chest. Was this the connection he'd been searching for? Clutching the book even tighter, he read faster. Yet, with each word devoured, that excitement ebbed. Frantic that he'd missed something, he read the passage over again.
"This mystical mirror had the ability to capture evil."
With a heavy sigh, he closed the book, the sound echoing his disappointment. Still, after searching for years, he'd never encountered the feelings this myth had evoked. Sliding the book back, he rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch.
Hours had passed, and he had nothing but what could easily be indigestion to show for it. The frustration that had been simmering all day threatened to boil over. He needed air, needed to move, to do something.
Returning to his table, he gathered his things to leave. A hushed conversation from a nearby table caught his attention. He slowed his packing, listening.
"Did you hear about the demon bus?" a young woman whispered.
"The one that passes Hikawa Shrine?" her companion replied. "I've heard children are missing! It's completely terrifying."
"Even worse is the police have no leads or anything."
Mamoru froze, his body tensing. A strange energy sprouted inside of him, almost electric in its intensity. It was the same feeling he got before transforming into Tuxedo Mask, the same call to action. If this was another appearance of those evil monsters, then Sailor Moon would be involved. His grip tightened on his book bag. She could be in danger.
The idea of going home to his empty apartment, to lie awake with his tumultuous thoughts, suddenly seemed unbearable. He didn't need to make a conscious decision, it was just fact. He was going to Hikawa Shrine.
Now more crowded, he dodged groups of students as he hurried to leave. Eager students clutching book bags and stressed looking attendants bustled about, but he paid them little mind. As he stepped out into the late afternoon air, his mind raced. "A demon bus? Abducted children? It sounds ridiculous."
Yet, in a world where he transformed into a masked hero and a warrior in a sailor suit existed, was anything truly impossible?
A restless energy within him grew with each step, urging him faster. Whatever was happening with this demon bus, he was certain that darkness fueled it. And perhaps, just perhaps, it would bring him face to face with Sailor Moon once again.
As he hurried towards the shine, a mix of anticipation and guilt churned in his stomach. The thought of seeing Sailor Moon again both thrilled and troubled him. To see those blue eyes that sparkled and shone, even in the face of danger. All he wanted to do was stand by her, to feel the connection that seemed to buzz between them.
But with that longing came a wave of shame that threatened to drown him. How could he yearn to see Sailor Moon when the mysterious princes still held his heart? The princesses ethereal beauty and the profound sadness in her eyes tugged at his soul. He felt a duty, an unshakable obligation to find her, to remember whatever he'd forgotten.
Then there was the clumsy, cheerful girl who irritated and captivated him in equal measure. Her sunny smile and infectious laughter had begun to occupy his thoughts with alarming frequency. The way his heart skipped when he saw her odango hairstyle in a crowd both confused and excited him.
He clenched his fists, frustrated by the tumult of his emotions. He had no right to feel this way about any of them, let alone all three. This emotional infidelity weighed him down. He was betraying the princess by hoping to see Sailor Moon. He was deceiving them both by thinking of the girl.
Distracted, he didn't see the figure before it was too late. Slamming into the man, Mamoru only barely managed to keep himself and the stranger from toppling over.
"I'm so sorry," he said, helping the man stand.
The man turned, and a wave of déjà vu washed over Mamoru, strong and disorienting. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, as though they shared a bond beyond casual acquaintance. The man's pale blond hair, cropped close, framed sharp, gray eyes that seemed to pierce right through him.
Those eyes held a depth that spoke of battles fought and loyalty tested, stirring a flicker of recognition deep within Mamoru's soul. It was as if he was looking at someone he should remember—someone who had once been important to him, though the memory was frustratingly out of reach.
"Do I know you?" Mamoru asked, narrowing his eyes as the unsettling familiarity gnawed at him.
The man's eyebrow quirked up, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I really doubt that," he replied smoothly, his tone almost teasing.
Mamoru studied him, searching for a hint of recognition. "Are you sure? You seem very familiar. Like we've met before."
"Perhaps in another life," the man said with a chuckle, though there was an undercurrent of something darker in his voice. "Or maybe you're just mistaking me for someone else. Happens all the time. I've got one of those faces."
Mamoru's gaze sharpened. There was something off about this man, something that set his nerves on edge. "You didn't see anything unusual around here, did you? There are rumors about a demon bus."
The man shrugged, his expression neutral. "I've heard about them. You know how people love to talk, especially about things they don't understand. Superstitions, ghost stories—people see what they want to see."
Mamoru frowned, not entirely convinced. "And what do you see?"
The man's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I see a world full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered. But some things are better left alone, don't you think?"
Mamoru felt a chill run down his spine. "You seem to know a lot about mysteries."
The man shrugged again, as if the conversation was of little importance. "I've been around. Seen a few things. But I'm just passing through."
"Passing through?" Mamoru echoed, still probing for answers.
"Yes," the man said, his tone suddenly more clipped. "I have my own… responsibilities to attend to. I'm sure you understand."
Mamoru nodded slowly, though he was far from understanding. "Right… Well, if you do remember where we might've met, let me know."
"Of course," the man replied, his smile turning cold. "But don't dwell too much on the past. It can be a dangerous place to linger. Anyway, I've got a bus to catch."
With that, the man turned and walked away, leaving Mamoru standing there, a sense of unease settling in his gut. As he watched the stranger disappear into the crowd, he couldn't shake the feeling that their paths would cross again—and that when they did, it wouldn't be under friendly circumstances.
Glancing up, he found the moon. The waxing crescent hung in the dimming sky, a slice of pale light in the growing gray. Sucking a breath, he cast a last glance to where the stranger vanished to, before turning for the shrine.
"Here we are." As he approached Hikawa Shrine, the bustling sounds of the city faded away, replaced by an almost tangible serenity.
The almost restless energy that plagued him all day subsided. A soft scent of incense moved through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding trees. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, Mamoru couldn't shake the feeling that something was… off.
An undercurrent of energy pulsed beneath the tranquil surface, recognizable yet impossible to place. It almost reminded him of the moments before he transformed, when the world seemed to hold its breath, teetering on the edge of something monumental.
He paused at the base of the stone steps leading up to the shrine, taking in the scene before him. A strange sense of anticipation swirled in his chest, almost like the first tendrils of a brush fire before it consumed the land. Ascending the steps, two crows soared overhead, their sharp cries cutting through the stillness. They circled gracefully before landing on the roof, their beady eyes watching him with unsettling intelligence.
The soft swishing sound of a broom caught his attention. A shrine maiden with long, raven-black hair was sweeping the courtyard, her movements graceful and purposeful. His eyes narrowed as he studied the girl.
There was something about her—an aura that flickered like fire around the edges. But beneath that warmth, he sensed a thread of darkness that made him uneasy. It felt as if she had a connection to it, like a strand of fate.
Mamoru needed to know if she was a danger or connected to this demon bus. "Excuse me," he called out. "I'd like to buy a good luck charm, please."
She looked up, her violet eyes meeting his. "Of course." Her tone was polite, but not overly friendly. "Follow me."
As she led him to the charm stand, he had to admit he appreciated her professional demeanor. It lacked the flirtatious undertones he'd had to face from other women. It was refreshing. The stand displayed love charms, protection charms, and good luck amulets, all well kept and bursting with energy.
"Here you are," she said, holding out a charm.
As he reached for it, their fingers brushed briefly. In that instant, a vision flashed before his eyes—a magnificent crystal palace, its spired reaching towards the sky, shrouded in moonlight and power. The image was vivid, so real, that he gasped, stumbling back.
The shine maiden jerked her hand away, her eyes wide with shock. For a moment, they stared at each other, a mixture of suspicion and recognition passing between them. The star locket became fractionally heavier, as if anchoring him to reality.
He didn't know what happened, but he was certain that this girl was something more than she appeared to be. Friend or foe, he didn't know. But he'd keep a close eye on her, and this place until he learned which.
"Thank you," he managed to say, breaking the tense silence.
He paid for the charm and turned to leave, the image still hovering behind his eyes. Descending the stone steps, he noticed a bus pass. His blood ran cold when he saw the number: 666.
"No way."
He turned away from the stop, deciding to walk instead. The streets grew darker, and his thoughts followed the descending night. The vision he'd had with the shrine maiden, the strange bus, the rumors of abductions, the familiar stranger—it all had to be connected somehow.
Somehow, he was on the brink of uncovering something monumental, something that might lead him to the answers he so desperately sought about his past, the Legendary Silver Crystal, and perhaps even the identity of the princess who haunted his dreams.
The locket grew heavier with each step, a tangible weight that never ceased. As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, long shadows obscured his path, almost like the darkness devouring the world. Needing to banish the depressing thoughts, he glanced upwards.
Now the moon shone even more brilliantly, its golden light missing that spark of wonder that it should have. Perhaps one day it would return to what it once was, what it should be. Whatever that was.