sm_monthly October Theme 01: Autumn [Sailormoon Manga: Rei]
Dudes, is it just me or is the opening song for Heroic Age seem like a modern version that is reminescent of Noir's OP? Same composer? Just a thought....
Title: November Third
Author: bjfactory
Theme: October 2007 - Theme 1: Autumn
Genre: General/Drama
Version: Manga
Rating: PG
She shifted the haori into place with practiced grace. The uniform was not that much different from her miko robes, in fact it was only the azure blue of her hakama that told a difference at all. Her understudy this year, Yuna, sighed a bit dreamily as she tightened her belt. The other's unrepentent staring would have left Rei feeling distinctly uncomfortable a year ago, and she would have, once, told the other girl bluntly to stop. But after having earth-quake Minako as a friend, this type of behavior was only mildly discomforting and not nearly as distructive as certain other people in her life.
It had embarrassed her a bit at first, nonetheless, at how much the girl admired her. The fact that Yuna had no problems in showing it quite openly made it harder to get used to. Yet, time adjusted the awkwardness to reluctant acceptance. Now, it was simply easier to ignore the behavior all together than to make a fuss over it. This much Rei learned the hard way with Minako for a friend.
The chore of putting on the uniform was nostalgic, Rei reflected. Dressing herself in traditional clothes on November the third reminded Rei of her mother more poignantly than any other activity she could have done. Seven years ago, that bright smile and laughing voice had stuffed her reluctant childhood-self into a similar garment and told her stories to distract her. Her mother had done archery once too. The callouses on her mother's hands were faint ghosts of a time when the practice of the sport had been an obsession. "Where do you think 'Kaa-san got her figure, huh?" Mother had teased good naturedly at her tight-lipped displeasure.
She had made a stiff and rather rude reply then, but the woman had only laughed and brushed off her awkwardness. The foreign, scratchy cotton that was unlike her normal dresses irritated her to no end and made her feel rather out of her elements and a little naked. As a child, Rei remembered being rather prim and uptight about her wardrobe, and her tastes turned rather sour concerning pants. She had despised tomboyish girls who rolled in dirt and laughed too loudly almost as much then as she disliked the activity itself, and looked to both activities with quite a bit of disdain and marked it a sign of weakness in control.
She had been her father's daughter then, proper and meticulous to a fault.
Her laughing, carefree mother had been a foreign creature from foreign lands, then. Light, roughened finger tips against her soft cheeks; bright eyes and lips that smiled all too easily, and laughed all the easier, even when there had been no reason to provoke it. She often wondered what drew her father to such a person, though Rei had rarely seen her parents spend time together at all to hint at such things as "love" and "family". It is not to say that in times of hurt and confusion that Rei did not long for her mother's easy nature, or that she ever doubted her parent's love for one another. Such things were dry facts that needed little evidence or actions to be witnessed by her or brought to question by anyone.
Rei prided herself in being a young lady in her childhood, unlike the girls her own age. Her mother's careless grace and open nature, a simple type of childishness in her child's eyes, irritated her on many levels (and not all of them rational). She was proud to never have cried before anyone or lost control of her emotions, quite unlike those children her own age and very unlike her own mother. She disliked crowded gatherings and despised the fawning of adults who treated her like she was too naive to know what lay beneath their thin veneers and political agendas. And even then, though she did not always understand it, she could feel insincerity and sense evil from people like a nasty smell that would invade the senses she had yet to learn to fully control.
Father's approval was the only thing she sought after with grim determination, and it had been the only thing that had mattered.
Mother, who languished in sunlight and played uncomfortable jokes or made embarrassing comments about Rei or Father or even herself, in both the private and public sphere... The woman was at best a blip on her radar and at worst a humiliating annoyance. Rei thought she had long grown out of mothers, or needing them, especially that November day with gold, red leaves and stuffy costumes that smelt of mold and must and age. Her mother got the idea that they would make wonderful twins, so alike that they had dressed the same and wore their hairs down in the same manner. The older woman had fingered her red hakama with a nostalgic smile and told young Rei about being a miko in her youth, of archery and innocence and a father's stifling love, one who Rei had never met.
Rei heard about her grandfather only in stories then. She pictured the man as fantastical and bizarre, even more dashing than Father - though she'd never admit this either - and far more alien than Mother. She also deduced as a child that her mother's strangeness must have stemmed from her own father, Rei's grandfather. She had often feared that it was a nature she may one day inherit, though she was never quite sure how such things were passed along. Proud, defiant and stiff to her mother's influences, Rei thought being like that woman would be the last thing she would ever desire...
Beneath those work-roughened hands, she had obediently sat as her mother brushed out her hair into perfect straightness. The usual, neat and low braid she would wear was shaken out and the ribbons she admired were discarded. Rei, at the time, had not liked anything to be out of order, but fighting her mother was more a hassel than going along, even if it meant wearing a uniform that she knew belonged to her mother when the other had been Rei's age. That day, sitting in uncomfortable hakama for the first time, was one of the more vivide and one of the last happy memory Rei had of her mother.
Like a bright flame in autumn, when winter came that year, Rei's mother began to fade. By the following Spring, with the melting snow, the woman in Rei's life that had always been too much sunlight and laughter, had disappeared altogether. It was Spring who taught Rei of Death, in the whispered warmth of trailing sunlight, peeking between grey, ladened clouds and budding trees, she had celebrated her first birthday alone - without father or mother, in an empty masion that seemed to echo. The concept of death had been a familiar neighbor by then - ready to move in - since the end of their autumn afternoon. The curious parade of crowds in the streets, the shouting of vendors, the surprisingly warm evening with purple clouds on a dark-blue canvas... and father, arriving late as the festives were over with an confident smile and an apology on his lips.
She wouldn't have thought than that a season's turn could change her trust and sincerity for a man who had once been her world...
But Rei now remembered the smile that burst like sunlight on her mother's moonlight face whenever she secured her hakama or put an arrow to the old, linen strings of her older bow - school issued. She remembered her mother's hands whenever she encounter the callouses forming on her own hands, or when the flames turn to smoke in her grasps when she becomes Sailor Senshi Mars. She remembered her mother in Minako's unrestrained laughter and Usagi's clumsy kindness, in Makoto's quiet wistfulness and Ami's love of books and stories. Rei clutches the bow in her hand tightly when she heard the voices echo like distant thunder, down empty hallways and secluded classrooms. The gathering crowd for this year's annual archery competition were enthusiastic about the climatic end, and briefly, Rei wondered what it would have been like if Mother had never died, if that oily feeling of unrest and so many other things did not spring to pollute her heart when she thought of Father.
The moment ends, for regret was not something Rei relished to relive. In some ways, she never quite out-grown that proud girl she had been, though she had eased into a softer version of her previous self. She still never cried in front of anyone and she imagined that she may always looked down a little on those who held no control over themselves.
Fondly then, she turned her mind to grandfather's odd sense of humor when he gave her a fertility charm that morning and wished her luck for all the wrong reasons. She wondered if the color of leaves that fell was the same today as when her mother dressed her up for the first and last time for this same Novemember day, nine years into the past. It had been her first time in this ancient uniform, though it would not be the last. Time does not turn back, and though she had been brought back from death more than once, it was not a miracle she could perform for things that could never be undone. Mother, who she had not loved enough in life, and Father, who she could not forgive after her mother's death (even if it meant denying that aching wonder that blossoms in her chest when she sits down to an empty white linen table on her birthdays, even if that sharp ache is brief)...
It was autumn and bright and white and gold and red and all the things under the sun.
Rei smiled gently at the beaming Yuna next to her then, with more gentleness than she had thought she could have possessed but a few years ago. Now, she thinks back to her awkward, blunt mother who had been too bright and beautiful and foreign for her to even understand in her memories as a teenager. But Rei knew as she stepped into the sun, letting the heat burn her to her core from that distant star, that she was closer now than she had ever been to the woman who once shared this maturing face she had inherited. With a smile she was still learning to put on with ease, she turned to face the life she chose, away from the gravity of the artificial sun that she had once called Father and had ignorantly thought him to be the only source of light.
End
* November 3rd, in Tokyo, is ususally when Cultural Festivals occur. In this, Rei's school is hosting a few events where she is participating as a member of the archery team. Would anyone really be surprised if she would totally kick ass in the sport?
* In the game of archery, from what I've seen in other Japanese manga, the participants wear traditional dojo type of clothing. So, in here, Rei's wearing the traditional gi and hakama; gi being the yukata like white top and hakama being the loose pants you see people who play kendo wears.
*I wanted to downplay that Rei was exceptionally close to her mother or that her personality was like her mother's, even. I thought about their relationship and came to the conclusion/possibility that Rei didn't need to love her mother overly much to later blame her father for her mother's death. Considering the environment her mother grew up in (think Grandpa - though he may have mellowed out due to the events in his own life) and that Rei may have been a Father's daughter, which could explain why she was so bitter after her mother's death. Just a sense that she may have been wanting to be closer to father than mother at her young age, as many girls are inclined to be, and that her expectations were not met - as she had always been a bit more proud than most people and a lot stiffer... Just thought it might be interesting to foreshadow her later relationship with both Usagi and Minako, and that her mother may be more like them than Rei, despite their share of similar looks. It can also explain a bit of her utter disdain for men, as a species, later on - especially with Kaidou to really reinforce in her mind that males are at the same level as scum...
After much noting and rantings, I hope you liked it. :D
Title: November Third
Author: bjfactory
Theme: October 2007 - Theme 1: Autumn
Genre: General/Drama
Version: Manga
Rating: PG
She shifted the haori into place with practiced grace. The uniform was not that much different from her miko robes, in fact it was only the azure blue of her hakama that told a difference at all. Her understudy this year, Yuna, sighed a bit dreamily as she tightened her belt. The other's unrepentent staring would have left Rei feeling distinctly uncomfortable a year ago, and she would have, once, told the other girl bluntly to stop. But after having earth-quake Minako as a friend, this type of behavior was only mildly discomforting and not nearly as distructive as certain other people in her life.
It had embarrassed her a bit at first, nonetheless, at how much the girl admired her. The fact that Yuna had no problems in showing it quite openly made it harder to get used to. Yet, time adjusted the awkwardness to reluctant acceptance. Now, it was simply easier to ignore the behavior all together than to make a fuss over it. This much Rei learned the hard way with Minako for a friend.
The chore of putting on the uniform was nostalgic, Rei reflected. Dressing herself in traditional clothes on November the third reminded Rei of her mother more poignantly than any other activity she could have done. Seven years ago, that bright smile and laughing voice had stuffed her reluctant childhood-self into a similar garment and told her stories to distract her. Her mother had done archery once too. The callouses on her mother's hands were faint ghosts of a time when the practice of the sport had been an obsession. "Where do you think 'Kaa-san got her figure, huh?" Mother had teased good naturedly at her tight-lipped displeasure.
She had made a stiff and rather rude reply then, but the woman had only laughed and brushed off her awkwardness. The foreign, scratchy cotton that was unlike her normal dresses irritated her to no end and made her feel rather out of her elements and a little naked. As a child, Rei remembered being rather prim and uptight about her wardrobe, and her tastes turned rather sour concerning pants. She had despised tomboyish girls who rolled in dirt and laughed too loudly almost as much then as she disliked the activity itself, and looked to both activities with quite a bit of disdain and marked it a sign of weakness in control.
She had been her father's daughter then, proper and meticulous to a fault.
Her laughing, carefree mother had been a foreign creature from foreign lands, then. Light, roughened finger tips against her soft cheeks; bright eyes and lips that smiled all too easily, and laughed all the easier, even when there had been no reason to provoke it. She often wondered what drew her father to such a person, though Rei had rarely seen her parents spend time together at all to hint at such things as "love" and "family". It is not to say that in times of hurt and confusion that Rei did not long for her mother's easy nature, or that she ever doubted her parent's love for one another. Such things were dry facts that needed little evidence or actions to be witnessed by her or brought to question by anyone.
Rei prided herself in being a young lady in her childhood, unlike the girls her own age. Her mother's careless grace and open nature, a simple type of childishness in her child's eyes, irritated her on many levels (and not all of them rational). She was proud to never have cried before anyone or lost control of her emotions, quite unlike those children her own age and very unlike her own mother. She disliked crowded gatherings and despised the fawning of adults who treated her like she was too naive to know what lay beneath their thin veneers and political agendas. And even then, though she did not always understand it, she could feel insincerity and sense evil from people like a nasty smell that would invade the senses she had yet to learn to fully control.
Father's approval was the only thing she sought after with grim determination, and it had been the only thing that had mattered.
Mother, who languished in sunlight and played uncomfortable jokes or made embarrassing comments about Rei or Father or even herself, in both the private and public sphere... The woman was at best a blip on her radar and at worst a humiliating annoyance. Rei thought she had long grown out of mothers, or needing them, especially that November day with gold, red leaves and stuffy costumes that smelt of mold and must and age. Her mother got the idea that they would make wonderful twins, so alike that they had dressed the same and wore their hairs down in the same manner. The older woman had fingered her red hakama with a nostalgic smile and told young Rei about being a miko in her youth, of archery and innocence and a father's stifling love, one who Rei had never met.
Rei heard about her grandfather only in stories then. She pictured the man as fantastical and bizarre, even more dashing than Father - though she'd never admit this either - and far more alien than Mother. She also deduced as a child that her mother's strangeness must have stemmed from her own father, Rei's grandfather. She had often feared that it was a nature she may one day inherit, though she was never quite sure how such things were passed along. Proud, defiant and stiff to her mother's influences, Rei thought being like that woman would be the last thing she would ever desire...
Beneath those work-roughened hands, she had obediently sat as her mother brushed out her hair into perfect straightness. The usual, neat and low braid she would wear was shaken out and the ribbons she admired were discarded. Rei, at the time, had not liked anything to be out of order, but fighting her mother was more a hassel than going along, even if it meant wearing a uniform that she knew belonged to her mother when the other had been Rei's age. That day, sitting in uncomfortable hakama for the first time, was one of the more vivide and one of the last happy memory Rei had of her mother.
Like a bright flame in autumn, when winter came that year, Rei's mother began to fade. By the following Spring, with the melting snow, the woman in Rei's life that had always been too much sunlight and laughter, had disappeared altogether. It was Spring who taught Rei of Death, in the whispered warmth of trailing sunlight, peeking between grey, ladened clouds and budding trees, she had celebrated her first birthday alone - without father or mother, in an empty masion that seemed to echo. The concept of death had been a familiar neighbor by then - ready to move in - since the end of their autumn afternoon. The curious parade of crowds in the streets, the shouting of vendors, the surprisingly warm evening with purple clouds on a dark-blue canvas... and father, arriving late as the festives were over with an confident smile and an apology on his lips.
She wouldn't have thought than that a season's turn could change her trust and sincerity for a man who had once been her world...
But Rei now remembered the smile that burst like sunlight on her mother's moonlight face whenever she secured her hakama or put an arrow to the old, linen strings of her older bow - school issued. She remembered her mother's hands whenever she encounter the callouses forming on her own hands, or when the flames turn to smoke in her grasps when she becomes Sailor Senshi Mars. She remembered her mother in Minako's unrestrained laughter and Usagi's clumsy kindness, in Makoto's quiet wistfulness and Ami's love of books and stories. Rei clutches the bow in her hand tightly when she heard the voices echo like distant thunder, down empty hallways and secluded classrooms. The gathering crowd for this year's annual archery competition were enthusiastic about the climatic end, and briefly, Rei wondered what it would have been like if Mother had never died, if that oily feeling of unrest and so many other things did not spring to pollute her heart when she thought of Father.
The moment ends, for regret was not something Rei relished to relive. In some ways, she never quite out-grown that proud girl she had been, though she had eased into a softer version of her previous self. She still never cried in front of anyone and she imagined that she may always looked down a little on those who held no control over themselves.
Fondly then, she turned her mind to grandfather's odd sense of humor when he gave her a fertility charm that morning and wished her luck for all the wrong reasons. She wondered if the color of leaves that fell was the same today as when her mother dressed her up for the first and last time for this same Novemember day, nine years into the past. It had been her first time in this ancient uniform, though it would not be the last. Time does not turn back, and though she had been brought back from death more than once, it was not a miracle she could perform for things that could never be undone. Mother, who she had not loved enough in life, and Father, who she could not forgive after her mother's death (even if it meant denying that aching wonder that blossoms in her chest when she sits down to an empty white linen table on her birthdays, even if that sharp ache is brief)...
It was autumn and bright and white and gold and red and all the things under the sun.
Rei smiled gently at the beaming Yuna next to her then, with more gentleness than she had thought she could have possessed but a few years ago. Now, she thinks back to her awkward, blunt mother who had been too bright and beautiful and foreign for her to even understand in her memories as a teenager. But Rei knew as she stepped into the sun, letting the heat burn her to her core from that distant star, that she was closer now than she had ever been to the woman who once shared this maturing face she had inherited. With a smile she was still learning to put on with ease, she turned to face the life she chose, away from the gravity of the artificial sun that she had once called Father and had ignorantly thought him to be the only source of light.
End
* November 3rd, in Tokyo, is ususally when Cultural Festivals occur. In this, Rei's school is hosting a few events where she is participating as a member of the archery team. Would anyone really be surprised if she would totally kick ass in the sport?
* In the game of archery, from what I've seen in other Japanese manga, the participants wear traditional dojo type of clothing. So, in here, Rei's wearing the traditional gi and hakama; gi being the yukata like white top and hakama being the loose pants you see people who play kendo wears.
*I wanted to downplay that Rei was exceptionally close to her mother or that her personality was like her mother's, even. I thought about their relationship and came to the conclusion/possibility that Rei didn't need to love her mother overly much to later blame her father for her mother's death. Considering the environment her mother grew up in (think Grandpa - though he may have mellowed out due to the events in his own life) and that Rei may have been a Father's daughter, which could explain why she was so bitter after her mother's death. Just a sense that she may have been wanting to be closer to father than mother at her young age, as many girls are inclined to be, and that her expectations were not met - as she had always been a bit more proud than most people and a lot stiffer... Just thought it might be interesting to foreshadow her later relationship with both Usagi and Minako, and that her mother may be more like them than Rei, despite their share of similar looks. It can also explain a bit of her utter disdain for men, as a species, later on - especially with Kaidou to really reinforce in her mind that males are at the same level as scum...
After much noting and rantings, I hope you liked it. :D