Paranoid
By La Mort
Still. If she kept perfectly and utterly still, nothing would be able to evade her stare as she swept her eyes across the classroom, but more importantly, she would not draw the attention of her classmates, and she would go unnoticed as they engaged themselves in the pre-lesson socialising that took place every morning before their teacher arrived. Her eyes flitted nervously from one person to the next, as she searched in vain for anything out of the ordinary. She repeated the same ritual every morning, but it had to be done. It was necessary. She had to spot Them before They had the chance to spot her; she could not afford to let Them catch her out. They could be anywhere. It was a lesson she had learnt the hard way.
Her searching glare finally came to rest on her desk, on her hands, the knuckles that were a painful white from clinging onto the cheap wood as if she were afraid that the world was about to turn upside down. Then again, perhaps it already had. A smile flickered across her face for the first time in days. Perhaps the whole planet was standing on its head, oblivious to its own topsy-turvy fantasy, and if she were to stop holding on to her own fragile sense of reality, she too would join them in their blissful world of ignorance. They would like that.
A hand suddenly came to rest on her shoulder, and she jumped a little more severely than was normal at the friendly gesture, cursing under her breath for allowing herself to be caught so easily.
“Asleep at your desk again, Usagi-chan?” the girl turned reluctantly, acknowledging the presence of her best friend with a painted smile. Osaka Naru had the habit of interrupting her when she least wanted it.
“I was just thinking,” she replied, returning her attention to the students milling about the classroom, wishing her friend would take the subtle hint and leave her in peace.
Instead, Naru persisted with the conversation. “Really?” she raised one eyebrow suggestively, “anyone I know?”
Usagi tutted irritably, she had no time to take part in such trivial discussions, yet she regretted her actions once she saw the wounded look in her friend’s eyes. She muttered an apology, and although Naru accepted it with a weak smile there was no mistaking the lines of worry that etched her expression as she turned her attention to another group of friends.
Usagi knew she had not always been that short-tempered, and that it was not only Naru that suffered; her other friends, her parents, even the complete strangers that served her in shops and restaurants or bumped into her in the street suffered the force of her frustration, the anger that had surfaced over the past few weeks, ever since the attacks began. Ever since…
They didn’t understand, she told herself, they had absolutely no idea that their mundane lives and everyday concerns were of little importance to what was really happening in their world, what went on behind the screen that common sense and ignorance erected in their minds. Paltry matters such as boyfriends, or cram school, or the falling prices on the stock market held little relevance in comparison to that which Usagi faced in their name, the death that stalked her around every corner, the terror that haunted her sleep, and the threat that was always, always present. The threat of Them. At times, she almost laughed at mankind’s naivety, at others, she was envious of it.
Never again could she spend the weekends trawling through the labyrinth of the shopping mall, not without wondering if They were waiting to ensnare her behind every shop front, tempting her with products They had tainted with Their name. She had stopped listening to the radio, it was not natural for a young girl to stay up half the night, flicking the dial from station to station, listening for any trace of the poison that spewed from Their tongues. Only the other week she had been afraid to step onto a city bus, the same route she had travelled since she was a child, sitting on her mother’s knee with her sticky face pressed close to the glass, and had walked a mile and a half in the rain, all because she was scared that once she got on she would not be able to get off again, and The Enemy would finally have her exactly where They wanted her. Alone.
Usagi stiffened as the door to the classroom swung open, her body refusing to relax even when she realised it was only her teacher. At first glance, the woman appeared to be normal, her step un-staggered and confident as she marched to the front of the room, dropping a sheaf of papers onto her desk with a soft plop. Usagi memorised the action, desperately comparing it with every other occasion in her memory as she sought for anything out of the ordinary.
A shadow fell over her desk and she looked up swiftly to see Haruna-sensei towering above her, extending a single sheet of paper towards her in an offering as she regarded the student with stern eyes.
“Another failing grade, Tsukino-san?” she said, her tone harsh, “perhaps a little studying is in order next time, ne?”
Usagi took the test paper without a word, blanching at the single-figure mark at the top of the page. Despite her efforts she had always been a poor student, but lately her grades had slipped even further than she had believed possible. There was no plausible-sounding excuse she could give to her teacher, nor could she tell her that she simply had no time for studying. Haruna-sensei would require an explanation as to why, and that would inevitably cause more problems than it was worth.
The lesson had already started, everyone around her bent over their desks, furiously scribbling down notes as their teacher scratched a puzzle of kanji on the blackboard. Usagi copied her classmates, feigning an interest in her textbook and the words that spewed from Haruna-sensei’s lips.
Yet she was restless, her eyes forever darting into the corners of the room and the poky spaces behind cupboards or desks, chasing shadows, searching for a place to transform if anything were to…happen. It was unlikely, but They had taught her to be prepared for anything. She fingered her henshin brooch nervously. If anyone were to see her transformation, it would be the end of it all. In the world of junior high, where popularity was everything, Tsukino Usagi wished to remain invisible. Anonymous, just another nameless face in the crowd. It was easier if no-one knew who she was.
“Tsukino-san!” Haruna-sensei rapped her blackboard ruler against the desk, sending a loud crack like a gunshot reverberating through the classroom, “are you listening to a word I’ve been saying?”
The girl lowered her eyes, mumbling her second apology of the day as she twirled her pencil nervously between her thumb and index finger.
The woman returned to her lesson, and Usagi returned to her thoughts, although this time she made more of an effort to prevent her teacher from noticing her wandering attention. Yet as Haruna-sensei scolded her she had felt almost normal. Usagi craved routine, anything that meant she could pretend that nothing around her had changed, and that everything was as it had always been, and always would be. It was strange how her priorities had changed from those of a few weeks ago.
As she watched Haruna-sensei dart from one end of the blackboard to the other she remembered how she and her friends had frequently commented on the fact that their teacher always seemed to wear the same tired, old, fuchsia two-piece suit, and joked that she must have a wardrobe full of identical outfits, giggling and gossiping behind their hands as if they were afraid she would suddenly appear behind them and scold them into a lifetime of detention.
Yet Usagi also remembered every time she had seen her teacher manipulated and abused by The Enemy, every feature of her face drawn into a mask of agony as her body was drained of its energy, the precious life-force that kept its heart pumping and blood circulating through its veins, the very energy that kept its host alive.
She felt a shudder run through her body. It did not seem natural for an adult to seem so helpless, so weak, so…child-like. Haruna-sensei had always seemed to be the perfection of control, but in recent times Usagi’s sense of authority had become corroded, as if acid had eaten away at the rules that had existed since the dawn of the first Neolithic society. Overnight, Usagi’s perfect view of the world had become corrupted, an irreversible process she would take with her to the grave. Then again, that may prove to be sooner rather than later.
During lunchtime it proved even harder to monitor the activities of the masses. In lessons her attention was blissfully confined by the walls of the classroom, but here, out in the open, there was no limit to the area she had to scrutinise; students circulated in their hundreds, conversing and passing by the blonde girl without a second thought, but there was also the people in the streets outside the walls, and those that passed by the school gate in their cars, speeding past in a blur before Usagi even had time to acknowledge their presence.
She did not know why she bothered to keep up her vigil, They knew how to blend into the crowd, They could be anyone, anywhere. Any one of her friends could be a monster, a youma. There were very few people she could trust completely, and it was a list that was growing shorter with each passing day.
She ate alone now. It was safer that way, or so she liked to believe. In reality if she was alone it made it all the more easier for Them to catch her unawares. She took precautions of course, never eating in the same place more than twice, and always, always watching. If she became predictable, she became an easy target.
Her hands clutched her bentō lunch the same way she had clutched her desk earlier, not even paying any attention to the food inside, the same food her mother had prepared for her that morning, laying it on the kitchen table as always. She would throw it away later, or feed it to the birds. No sense in it going to waste. It had become some sort of comfort action, some last shred of normalcy to grasp at, as little by little she was sucked into someone else’s nightmare.
She looked down at her lunch, invitingly packaged in the same pink lunchbag she had since she was little, thinking that perhaps she was hungry after all. Her fingers traced delicately over the rabbit design on the fabric, and she realised it was not only her schoolwork that she had neglected.
Her nails were bitten almost to the quick, some of the stubby tips still crusted with dried blood, or stained with a thick layer of dirt that had somehow crept its way under the surface. She had not realised she had taken up such a disgusting habit, before now she had always taken good care of her nails, and had been proud of them, the way they had given her hands an air of adult elegance. Not anymore.
Yet it was not just her nails, she knew the rest of her appearance had suffered because of the rigorous way she was now forced to live. Her golden blonde locks hung in their trademark pigtails either side of her head, their shine lost as they drooped limply, heavy and thick with grease. In the past few days she had not bothered to wash her hair or even take a shower; it would be all too easy for Them to catch her while she was needlessly pampering herself.
Her body was suffering as a result of her vigilance, but she told herself that in the end it would all be worth it. Even her parents had commented on her gaunt appearance, the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, the way the weight had slipped from her bones. They had suggested she get some rest, or have something to eat, and she had thanked them properly for their advice and promised to do just that, hiding her lies behind her smile. They were not to know, they were as naďve as everybody else.
She knew how effortlessly The Enemy could smother her while she lay oblivious in her bed, or lace her food with a substantial dose of arsenic or cyanide. They knew her weaknesses, for they were the weaknesses of all of mankind. Hunger. Sleep. Vanity. Love. Only by resisting such petty desires could she outsmart Them.
“Usagi-chan, there you are!”
Usagi jumped to her feet, dropping her lunch and scattering its contents on the floor, her fists clenched so tightly at her sides her bones threatened to break. It was Naru, again, although this time she was not alone.
“Oh, Usagi-chan, I’m sorry,” the girl’s hands flew to her mouth as she stared at the spilt lunch, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Forget it.”
“But your lunch…”
“It doesn’t matter, I wasn’t going to eat it anyway,” Usagi said quickly, noticing the amount of attention her little accident was drawing, “what do you want?”
“I-I was just wondering if you wanted to stop by the mall after school, you know, the way we used to,” Naru stammered, taken aback by her friend’s abruptness, “Hiroko-chan and I…”
“Who?” Usagi snapped, her eyes swivelling towards Naru, her glare so intense it frightened her.
“H-Hiroko-chan…” Naru gestured weakly towards the girl standing next to her.
Her companion offered Usagi a weak smile, although her eyes told her she was unnerved by her strange behaviour. Usagi recognised her, one of the nameless mass that trod the hallways and took her place at her desk every time yearly exams swung round, or sat beneath the trees in summer, gossiping with her friends. Another nondescript student, another nonentity, but not anymore. Now Usagi had a name for the face framed by a curtain of black hair, a way of identifying the girl beneath her green eyes and the school uniform that made her identical to every one of the other students at Juuban.
“Ikeda Hiroko,” the girl bowed courteously, “pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Ikeda-san,” Usagi replied, although the tone in her voice unnerved the other two girls.
“Naru-chan has told me so much about you,” she continued.
“Really?” Usagi’s eyes snapped to attention, “what kind of things?”
“Nothing, really,” the girl seemed to shrink back slightly, “just gossip.”
“Erm, did I tell you that Hiroko-chan is captain of the girl’s basketball team?” Naru said quickly.
“So that’s what makes her special,” Usagi murmured, an eerie smile crossing her face.
“Usagi-chan, is something wrong?” Naru asked, her expression showing obvious concern.
“No, nothing,” she replied, her eyes still on the black-haired girl, “you run along now, Naru-chan. Have a nice time with your new friend at the mall.”
Naru turned away with what possibly could have been tears in her eyes. “Okay, Usagi-chan,” she whispered hoarsely, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow sometime.”
And so she left, taking Ikeda Hiroko, captain of the girl’s basketball team, with her. Usagi sat back down, smoothing her skirt beneath her as she watched the crowd disperse, becoming forgotten once more. Just the way she liked it. Yet all of a sudden she felt her heartbeat quicken as she noticed a boy’s attention linger on her for more than was normal.
Oh gods, they’ve found me, she thought frantically as she froze in position, they know who I am.
But after a few moments the boy was re-absorbed by the crowd and she became emerged in complete solitude again. Complete, perfect, solitude. Of course, she was ashamed of the way she was treating Naru, her oldest friend, but it couldn’t be helped. Even the most casual of friendships was dangerous, and even though it was hurting her now Naru would find others, and make new acquaintances. She would make a new life for herself, eventually, without the need for Tsukino Usagi.
Yet that was not the only reason Usagi avoided the young redhead. They seemed to favour her, for whatever method they used to select their victims. Like Haruna-sensei, They were drawn to Osaka Naru like swarms of flies around a fresh kill. The friend inside Usagi told her to stay close to Naru and protect her to the best of her abilities, but the survivor inside her told her to run far, far away from anything remotely connected with The Enemy. And so far, the survivor was winning.
Especially since Naru had started bringing others into their close-knit group. Others that seemed to come and go with each passing day, others that Usagi would have ignored if it had not been for the nagging sensation inside her, others that were also targets. She had learnt to keep well away from such people, the sports team captains, the junior competition winners, the society presidents. They were not unknowns in the world of junior high, they were mini-celebrities, and They knew it.
They feasted upon them like locusts on the crop of the starving, drawing on their enthusiasm, their skill, whatever it was that made them special. They did not prey upon the Nameless, which is why Usagi envied those who were incognito, those outside the social loop, those who were unpopular. She yearned for their lifestyle, even mimicked it from time to time, in the pretence that she too was one of them.
But her frail illusion was shattered every time her services were called upon, every time the words of her henshin cry left her lips, every time the warrior resting deep in her soul yearned for battle. Hiding among the thronging masses would do her no good, denying the role Fate had chosen her to play would only lead Them to her sooner, no matter how hard she tried to feign invisibility. They would know, soon enough, if she tried to play games with Them, and They would punish her for trying to make Them look stupid. They were not ones to be made fools of.
She walked home alone, along the streets she knew best, just another face in the crowd, jostling for her own little piece of pavement. Here, she really was incognito, among the businessmen, the salary workers and the college students, another statistic in the city’s millions.
Her route home took her past the Crown Arcade. There were days when she would have eagerly skipped through the entrance, the automatic doors admitting her with a swish of glass and electricity, before she bounded into the building, spending hours on her favourite ‘Sailor V’ video game, trying to beat her highest score or just letting off steam after yet another mentally exhausting school day.
But not anymore. Computer games had lost their appeal, and playing at super heroes no longer held her attention now she was the real thing. She paused, watching the throngs of teenagers huddled around the machines, transfixed by the pixelated images that flashed across the screen as Sailor V shot her way through yet another swarm of 16-bit monsters. ‘Level Six: The Bank Raid!’; Usagi knew it well. She didn’t have to sit in front of the machine to recognise the tinny music blaring from the speakers so loudly she could hear it from outside the arcade. She had played that game so many times she had memorised the movement of her fingers as they flew over the buttons, shouting words of encouragement, and sometimes abuse, at the characters on the screen.
She must have looked pathetic, standing with her nose pressed against the glass, her wide blue eyes filled with longing, staring forlornly at those still lucky enough to yearn for the life of Sailor V, those whose fondest wishes were still just a fantasy, or a welcome dream that occasionally honoured their slumber.
“Usagi-chan!”
Usagi turned her eyes to the street at the shrill voice. Anyone watching her from inside the arcade would have been surprised to see her apparently talking to an attentive black cat at her heels, but they had more important things to worry about, and dismissed it without a second thought.
“Hey, Luna,” Usagi sighed, smiling wearily at her animal companion.
The cat was breathless from running, and had an earnest and desperate look in her eyes. Usagi knew what was coming next. She had a mountain of homework and countless chores to do at home, but as usual, they would have to wait. Dealing with Them was more important than schoolwork or household tasks. She looked despondently towards the arcade, wishing she could be as carefree as those inside again.
But then, if she didn’t do it, who would? Destiny had chosen her, former crybaby Tsukino Usagi, to bear the burden of the Earth’s fate, and Destiny was a master no-one disobeyed. Not even They could challenge Destiny. And so it had given her power, and the life of the manga and video game heroes she worshipped, in return for the consistency and predictability of everything her life was before. She was no longer just another face in the crowd.
Usagi looked down the busy street, past the teeming masses to the only two figures standing perfectly still in the whole city. To everyone else, they were just two more nameless citizens of Tokyo, but Usagi knew them well, the young miko and the school genius. Between all three of them, they had an understanding, a bond that Destiny had forced upon them, but one that had been strengthened by friendship and trust.
“Same as usual, Luna?” Usagi asked quietly, her eyes never leaving her comrades.
“Of course,” the cat answered.
Usagi smiled to herself, and she felt her friends follow suit. They had all been plucked from obscurity, pulled from their normal lives, and rescued from the mundane. They all felt the same. They were all Sailor Senshi. And there were reasons why they lived in constant fear of Them.
There were reasons why they were paranoid.
Disclaimer: Sailormoon is the intellectual property and copyright of Naoko Takeuchi and Toei Animation and others. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes only and I make no money from it.
