Silver Eyes
**DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon and other characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi,
Cartoon Network, etc. None of these characters belong to me. **
Author's Notes: Konnichiwa. This is the first fanfic I've posted so feel free to
critique. Remember though, this is an AU and I write Usagi very differently than
how she originally is (especially the anime version). Don't be surprised if she
seems to be acting unusual; things will make more sense and get more exciting
as I go. Please send some feedback or review! Enjoy reading!
Rating: PG
*******************
"Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart."
~ Proverb ~
Silver Eyes
by: The Silver Princess
Tsukino Usagi hissed in pain as she firmly bandaged her arm. When she
had finished winding the bandage, she bundled her now unusable blouse up,
stubbornly ignoring the blooded sleeve, and dropped it into a metal trashcan. She
flicked her hand, a quick splash of the rubbing alcohol she'd used on her arm
splattered over the fabric, and then she lit a match and let it drop. The flame
poofed over the fabric like a bright blossom, eerily lighting her face in the
otherwise dark room.
With a tired sigh, Usagi wandered into the living room and collapsed onto
the couch, taking careful care not to bump her tender arm. With a grumble, she
flicked the television on and switched to the news, wondering vaguely if they'd
mention the episode that had resulted in her injured arm.
Instead, a depressingly bland man appeared, relating the weather
forecast. She groaned as she saw the high temperatures predicted. With the
long-sleeved shirt she would have to wear to cover her arm, heat would prove
miserably inopportune—not to mention the strange looks she would probably get
from her classmates.
How had she ended up like this? If her family could only see her now,
they'd never recognize their laughing, carefree golden child who spilled with
joyous love. Oh, she was still there, hope and love bubbling around, but events
had tempered and honed her into the present Usagi who silently mourned the
lonely love inside.
Without even meaning to, her eyelids closed and soon she slipped into a
restless sleep, the flickering light of the television continuing to play over her
features.
Morning came to quickly, sunlight slanting into the room and rousing her.
Usagi yawned and stretched her sore muscles. It probably hadn't been a good
idea to sleep on the couch after last night's goings-on.
She sat up, reaching a hand to her head to discover just how tousled her
hair now was. She grimaced as her fingers found impossible snarls and let her
hand fall back to her lap. Oops. Another thing to keep in mind. Make sure to
brush her hair before sleeping.
She glanced at the clock and grinned. Well, at least she'd have plenty of
time to untangle it. She staggered into the bathroom and glared at herself in the
mirror. She looked so…cute. She hated that. Cute. Adorable. Those were words
that should be reserved for toddlers and puppies—not for use on an eighteen-
year-old girl taking care of herself without any family. Hadn't she figured out how
to become self-sufficient and independent? Didn't she have her own apartment
and pay for her own schooling? Didn't she deserve at least to not look like a
cuddly, helpless bunny?
She put her colored contacts in—no prescription—and then glared at the
reflection. Her eyes were now wide and sparkling sapphire—regular baby-blues
in every sense of the term. Her nose was pert, her smile wide and ready, and her
face sweet. Alright, maybe it wasn't that bad, she conceded as she began on her
hair. She was gorgeous, right down to her shapely figure. If she did look more
like an innocent angel than a sophisticated model, well, that just helped with her
masquerade, now didn't it?
Her hair was a golden riot, a mass of glimmering tresses tumbling to the
floor in a waterfall. Once the tangles were gone, she deftly wound them up into
her distinctive hairdo: two buns with long pigtails falling past her knees. She
examined herself in the mirror. Yup, she looked normal. Well, maybe a little paler
than usual, but she was already very fair-skinned so it wasn't that noticeable.
She skimmed through her closet, searching for something that wouldn't be
too conspicuous on a hot day. She looked longingly at her shelves of other
clothes but shook herself and turned to the clothes for the life she'd be in today.
She settled on a light cotton blouse that would cover her arm but wouldn't be too
warm. A little too pink for her tastes but it fit the persona that she had worked to
hard to develop and master. A simple white skirt, again to sweet for her,
completed the outfit.
Usagi strolled into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and glancing at
the clock. Jeez, who'd have thought it would be so difficult to be late on purpose?
She flopped onto the couch and watched the news anchors bubble and
laugh like wannabe stand-up comics. Just get to the news already. One man
flashed a toothy smile at his female coanchor's weak joke—she of course had
the standard short newswoman haircut. Then he turned in his chair to face a
different camera. "Now in other news," he began earnestly. "Another mysterious
attack in downtown Tokyo. No fatalities this time; however, there were many
critically injured. Witnesses have been unclear what happened although many
claim that the so-called Sailor senshi quote "saved the day." I don't know, Jen.
What do you think about theses Sailor senshi?" Blah blah blah.
Usagi switched of the television and their inane chatter. Sailor Senshi. Of
course there'd been no mention of her, but although that rankled inside, it was for
the best. It was her secret life and the quieter it was kept the better. Besides,
what newspaper or station would care about the mysterious girl who no one
could ever see clearly when you had the spectacular senshi to focus on?
She gingerly rubbed her arm, her token of last night's battle. Maybe she
wasn't a senshi, but she knew how to fight, and she knew the difference between
good and evil. And most importantly, she knew that she could help—did in fact.
The senshi didn't trust her, but they knew of her existence. She and the
assistance she provided were invaluable.
It was her separate life, the life that felt so much realer, more right. It fit her
better. That was who she really was.
The clock beeped the time, and Usagi pasted a grin on her face that was
bright as a kilowatt lightbulb. Time to be late to school. Time to be the whiny
klutz. Time to be Odango Atama. Time for her other life.
*****
"Gomen nasai, Haruna-sensei!" Usagi yelped as she dashed into the
classroom, panting as hard as she could though she was hardly out of breath.
She saw a bookbag lying conveniently in the way and purposefully tripped over it.
The tardy klutz began her well-known wail as the inner-Usagi grimaced at the
sound with her classmates.
"Usagi-chan," Mizuno Ami whispered as Usagi slid into her seat. "Are you
okay? That fall looked very hard."
Usagi glanced at the blue-haired girl sitting next to her and debated her
response. "It hurt," she muttered poutily, settling for the middle of the road. It
wouldn't do to bellyache too much and have her kind-hearted friend insisting she
go to the school nurse but she couldn't act out of character. In actuality, the fall
hadn't hurt a bit; she'd been very careful to keep her sore arm from jarring
against anything.
Ami nodded and turned her attention back to Haruna-sensei, although she
didn't have to. Usagi didn't even bother. She had made it a well-known fact that
she was horrible in school, failing, when actually she was acing everything with
flying colors. After a careful, guarded conversation with her teacher, Haruna-
sensei had agreed to play along and even post fake grades for one of her
brightest pupils. Usagi was still proud of that particular moment of negotiating
brilliance.
Inwardly, Usagi shook her head. How could she be the only one to see
that Ami was Sailor Mercury? The same soft corona of blue hair, the same gentle
blue eyes, a slighter darker shade than Usagi's. Her delicate features and
elegant hands that seemed made to dance over a keyboard with graceful ease.
How could no one else see? Perhaps it was because Usagi was the only non-
senshi to ever be around them often or for long, she reasoned. After all, there
must be many geniuses who love to swim and have blue hair, she thought
sarcastically.
Lunch came quickly, and by now Usagi's stomach was protesting loudly
the lack of breakfast. Exactly on schedule. How else could she convince
everyone she was a ravenous pig who loved food if she didn't wolf down lunch,
and how else could she devour that daunting amount of food unless she skipped
breakfast?
"Mako-chan, thish ish delishush," she gushed with cheeks bulging and
through an enormous mouthful of sushi.
Kino Makoto laughed with pride. The tall girl was a muscular tower over
her other friends with hair like dark chestnut and eyes like green leaves. She was
intimidating to say the least, although not to her own friends. And she was Sailor
Jupiter, senshi of lightning and gardens.
"Jeez, Odango Atama, stop to take a breath, you pig," Hino Rei snapped.
Usagi swallowed the retort poised on her lips and instead scowled and
wailed unsuccessfully because of the food still stuffed in her face.
Rei snorted and flipped her hair over her shoulder. It was like violet silk, so
dark it was nearly black. Her eyes were a brighter fiery hue of purple, and her
temper flared just as quickly as fire as well. Put that together with her being a
Shinto priestess with psychic powers that usually kicked in when she meditated
before a fire, and you got Sailor Mars.
The last of their group pushed at Rei. "Don't be so mean to Usagi-chan,"
Aino Minako scolded. Rounding out the pattern, she was Sailor Venus. After all
her blond hair, slightly brighter and darker than Usagi's, gave it away. Her blue
eyes, again darker than the other blond's, sparkled playfully.
Yes, these were her friends, Sailor senshi all. They all shared a secret that
did not include her—at least to their knowledge. Sometimes Usagi would debate
telling them her identity that she was the mysterious woman who helped them.
But then, one would indicate a secret meeting, and she would think that perhaps
since they had their secret, she should have hers. Besides, after spending so
much time becoming Odango Atama, it was difficult to say she wasn't really.
So the ditzy Odango chatted away with her friends, while inside Usagi
waited for the night where she could be herself again and help the distrustful
Sailor senshi.
*****
Night stole over Tokyo like a thief. Blackness filled the alleys while the
streets were filled with artificial neon light, garish and sinister. Tourists, perhaps,
might like the bright shine of Tokyo nightlife, but Usagi knew better. Night was
when the youmas came out in full force. Sure, occasionally there were a few
attacks in the day, but most preferred the forgiving shelter of night where they
could skulk and ambush. Usagi grinned in a way that was more a baring of teeth.
Of course, two could play that game.
She changed into black pants and a black halter-top, sighing gratefully as
she discarded her daywear. She unpinned her buns, letting her thick cascade of
fair locks fall to the floor. A long wound braid later and her hair was pinned neatly
atop her head like a golden crown. It always seemed a little top-heavy at first but
that improved after a few minutes. This way, at least it was secure, out of the
way, and unlike Odango Atama's characteristic hairdo.
With the same feral grin still playing over her features, Usagi bushed on
makeup that subtly modified her features. Not enough by itself, but when she
removed the colored contacts that transformed her eyes back to a nearly metallic
silver, she was not longer the Usagi her friends knew. She still looked like her,
but more like an older sister with an uncanny familial resemblance. A black mask
tied over her eyes completed the disguise. So far these precautions and her
tendency to stay in the shadows had been sufficient to conceal her identity.
Silver eyes glinted from their frame of black, and she grinned. That faded
as she glanced down at her arm, wishing she could remove the binding but
knowing that that would be foolish. Oh, well. It wasn't as though anyone would be
grading her on fashion.
Humming happily, she locked her house up and hopped on to her sleek
black motorcycle. She gunned the engine, loving the sudden roar and the
mechanical vibrations beneath her. She settling her helmet over her hair and
head and flipped down the visor. Time to go.
**DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon and other characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi,
Cartoon Network, etc. None of these characters belong to me. **
Author's Notes: Konnichiwa. This is the first fanfic I've posted so feel free to
critique. Remember though, this is an AU and I write Usagi very differently than
how she originally is (especially the anime version). Don't be surprised if she
seems to be acting unusual; things will make more sense and get more exciting
as I go. Please send some feedback or review! Enjoy reading!
Rating: PG
*******************
"Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart."
~ Proverb ~
Silver Eyes
by: The Silver Princess
Tsukino Usagi hissed in pain as she firmly bandaged her arm. When she
had finished winding the bandage, she bundled her now unusable blouse up,
stubbornly ignoring the blooded sleeve, and dropped it into a metal trashcan. She
flicked her hand, a quick splash of the rubbing alcohol she'd used on her arm
splattered over the fabric, and then she lit a match and let it drop. The flame
poofed over the fabric like a bright blossom, eerily lighting her face in the
otherwise dark room.
With a tired sigh, Usagi wandered into the living room and collapsed onto
the couch, taking careful care not to bump her tender arm. With a grumble, she
flicked the television on and switched to the news, wondering vaguely if they'd
mention the episode that had resulted in her injured arm.
Instead, a depressingly bland man appeared, relating the weather
forecast. She groaned as she saw the high temperatures predicted. With the
long-sleeved shirt she would have to wear to cover her arm, heat would prove
miserably inopportune—not to mention the strange looks she would probably get
from her classmates.
How had she ended up like this? If her family could only see her now,
they'd never recognize their laughing, carefree golden child who spilled with
joyous love. Oh, she was still there, hope and love bubbling around, but events
had tempered and honed her into the present Usagi who silently mourned the
lonely love inside.
Without even meaning to, her eyelids closed and soon she slipped into a
restless sleep, the flickering light of the television continuing to play over her
features.
Morning came to quickly, sunlight slanting into the room and rousing her.
Usagi yawned and stretched her sore muscles. It probably hadn't been a good
idea to sleep on the couch after last night's goings-on.
She sat up, reaching a hand to her head to discover just how tousled her
hair now was. She grimaced as her fingers found impossible snarls and let her
hand fall back to her lap. Oops. Another thing to keep in mind. Make sure to
brush her hair before sleeping.
She glanced at the clock and grinned. Well, at least she'd have plenty of
time to untangle it. She staggered into the bathroom and glared at herself in the
mirror. She looked so…cute. She hated that. Cute. Adorable. Those were words
that should be reserved for toddlers and puppies—not for use on an eighteen-
year-old girl taking care of herself without any family. Hadn't she figured out how
to become self-sufficient and independent? Didn't she have her own apartment
and pay for her own schooling? Didn't she deserve at least to not look like a
cuddly, helpless bunny?
She put her colored contacts in—no prescription—and then glared at the
reflection. Her eyes were now wide and sparkling sapphire—regular baby-blues
in every sense of the term. Her nose was pert, her smile wide and ready, and her
face sweet. Alright, maybe it wasn't that bad, she conceded as she began on her
hair. She was gorgeous, right down to her shapely figure. If she did look more
like an innocent angel than a sophisticated model, well, that just helped with her
masquerade, now didn't it?
Her hair was a golden riot, a mass of glimmering tresses tumbling to the
floor in a waterfall. Once the tangles were gone, she deftly wound them up into
her distinctive hairdo: two buns with long pigtails falling past her knees. She
examined herself in the mirror. Yup, she looked normal. Well, maybe a little paler
than usual, but she was already very fair-skinned so it wasn't that noticeable.
She skimmed through her closet, searching for something that wouldn't be
too conspicuous on a hot day. She looked longingly at her shelves of other
clothes but shook herself and turned to the clothes for the life she'd be in today.
She settled on a light cotton blouse that would cover her arm but wouldn't be too
warm. A little too pink for her tastes but it fit the persona that she had worked to
hard to develop and master. A simple white skirt, again to sweet for her,
completed the outfit.
Usagi strolled into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and glancing at
the clock. Jeez, who'd have thought it would be so difficult to be late on purpose?
She flopped onto the couch and watched the news anchors bubble and
laugh like wannabe stand-up comics. Just get to the news already. One man
flashed a toothy smile at his female coanchor's weak joke—she of course had
the standard short newswoman haircut. Then he turned in his chair to face a
different camera. "Now in other news," he began earnestly. "Another mysterious
attack in downtown Tokyo. No fatalities this time; however, there were many
critically injured. Witnesses have been unclear what happened although many
claim that the so-called Sailor senshi quote "saved the day." I don't know, Jen.
What do you think about theses Sailor senshi?" Blah blah blah.
Usagi switched of the television and their inane chatter. Sailor Senshi. Of
course there'd been no mention of her, but although that rankled inside, it was for
the best. It was her secret life and the quieter it was kept the better. Besides,
what newspaper or station would care about the mysterious girl who no one
could ever see clearly when you had the spectacular senshi to focus on?
She gingerly rubbed her arm, her token of last night's battle. Maybe she
wasn't a senshi, but she knew how to fight, and she knew the difference between
good and evil. And most importantly, she knew that she could help—did in fact.
The senshi didn't trust her, but they knew of her existence. She and the
assistance she provided were invaluable.
It was her separate life, the life that felt so much realer, more right. It fit her
better. That was who she really was.
The clock beeped the time, and Usagi pasted a grin on her face that was
bright as a kilowatt lightbulb. Time to be late to school. Time to be the whiny
klutz. Time to be Odango Atama. Time for her other life.
*****
"Gomen nasai, Haruna-sensei!" Usagi yelped as she dashed into the
classroom, panting as hard as she could though she was hardly out of breath.
She saw a bookbag lying conveniently in the way and purposefully tripped over it.
The tardy klutz began her well-known wail as the inner-Usagi grimaced at the
sound with her classmates.
"Usagi-chan," Mizuno Ami whispered as Usagi slid into her seat. "Are you
okay? That fall looked very hard."
Usagi glanced at the blue-haired girl sitting next to her and debated her
response. "It hurt," she muttered poutily, settling for the middle of the road. It
wouldn't do to bellyache too much and have her kind-hearted friend insisting she
go to the school nurse but she couldn't act out of character. In actuality, the fall
hadn't hurt a bit; she'd been very careful to keep her sore arm from jarring
against anything.
Ami nodded and turned her attention back to Haruna-sensei, although she
didn't have to. Usagi didn't even bother. She had made it a well-known fact that
she was horrible in school, failing, when actually she was acing everything with
flying colors. After a careful, guarded conversation with her teacher, Haruna-
sensei had agreed to play along and even post fake grades for one of her
brightest pupils. Usagi was still proud of that particular moment of negotiating
brilliance.
Inwardly, Usagi shook her head. How could she be the only one to see
that Ami was Sailor Mercury? The same soft corona of blue hair, the same gentle
blue eyes, a slighter darker shade than Usagi's. Her delicate features and
elegant hands that seemed made to dance over a keyboard with graceful ease.
How could no one else see? Perhaps it was because Usagi was the only non-
senshi to ever be around them often or for long, she reasoned. After all, there
must be many geniuses who love to swim and have blue hair, she thought
sarcastically.
Lunch came quickly, and by now Usagi's stomach was protesting loudly
the lack of breakfast. Exactly on schedule. How else could she convince
everyone she was a ravenous pig who loved food if she didn't wolf down lunch,
and how else could she devour that daunting amount of food unless she skipped
breakfast?
"Mako-chan, thish ish delishush," she gushed with cheeks bulging and
through an enormous mouthful of sushi.
Kino Makoto laughed with pride. The tall girl was a muscular tower over
her other friends with hair like dark chestnut and eyes like green leaves. She was
intimidating to say the least, although not to her own friends. And she was Sailor
Jupiter, senshi of lightning and gardens.
"Jeez, Odango Atama, stop to take a breath, you pig," Hino Rei snapped.
Usagi swallowed the retort poised on her lips and instead scowled and
wailed unsuccessfully because of the food still stuffed in her face.
Rei snorted and flipped her hair over her shoulder. It was like violet silk, so
dark it was nearly black. Her eyes were a brighter fiery hue of purple, and her
temper flared just as quickly as fire as well. Put that together with her being a
Shinto priestess with psychic powers that usually kicked in when she meditated
before a fire, and you got Sailor Mars.
The last of their group pushed at Rei. "Don't be so mean to Usagi-chan,"
Aino Minako scolded. Rounding out the pattern, she was Sailor Venus. After all
her blond hair, slightly brighter and darker than Usagi's, gave it away. Her blue
eyes, again darker than the other blond's, sparkled playfully.
Yes, these were her friends, Sailor senshi all. They all shared a secret that
did not include her—at least to their knowledge. Sometimes Usagi would debate
telling them her identity that she was the mysterious woman who helped them.
But then, one would indicate a secret meeting, and she would think that perhaps
since they had their secret, she should have hers. Besides, after spending so
much time becoming Odango Atama, it was difficult to say she wasn't really.
So the ditzy Odango chatted away with her friends, while inside Usagi
waited for the night where she could be herself again and help the distrustful
Sailor senshi.
*****
Night stole over Tokyo like a thief. Blackness filled the alleys while the
streets were filled with artificial neon light, garish and sinister. Tourists, perhaps,
might like the bright shine of Tokyo nightlife, but Usagi knew better. Night was
when the youmas came out in full force. Sure, occasionally there were a few
attacks in the day, but most preferred the forgiving shelter of night where they
could skulk and ambush. Usagi grinned in a way that was more a baring of teeth.
Of course, two could play that game.
She changed into black pants and a black halter-top, sighing gratefully as
she discarded her daywear. She unpinned her buns, letting her thick cascade of
fair locks fall to the floor. A long wound braid later and her hair was pinned neatly
atop her head like a golden crown. It always seemed a little top-heavy at first but
that improved after a few minutes. This way, at least it was secure, out of the
way, and unlike Odango Atama's characteristic hairdo.
With the same feral grin still playing over her features, Usagi bushed on
makeup that subtly modified her features. Not enough by itself, but when she
removed the colored contacts that transformed her eyes back to a nearly metallic
silver, she was not longer the Usagi her friends knew. She still looked like her,
but more like an older sister with an uncanny familial resemblance. A black mask
tied over her eyes completed the disguise. So far these precautions and her
tendency to stay in the shadows had been sufficient to conceal her identity.
Silver eyes glinted from their frame of black, and she grinned. That faded
as she glanced down at her arm, wishing she could remove the binding but
knowing that that would be foolish. Oh, well. It wasn't as though anyone would be
grading her on fashion.
Humming happily, she locked her house up and hopped on to her sleek
black motorcycle. She gunned the engine, loving the sudden roar and the
mechanical vibrations beneath her. She settling her helmet over her hair and
head and flipped down the visor. Time to go.