A “Please Save My
Earth” fic
By Jessi Albano
Disclaimer: The
characters and situations of
"Please Save My Earth" are copyrighted by Saki Hiwatari. The
video was released in Japan by Victor Entertainment, and in the United States by
Viz Communications. The manga of "Please Save My Earth" is published
by Hana to Yume Comics/Hakusensha. They have been used without permission, with no mean intent or
desire for remuneration. This is merely a fan tribute. However, this particular piece of fiction
belongs to me. Still, please don't
archive, forward or use without asking
Note: This fic is based on the anime. Rating
is R, for adult ideas and situations.
***
*You have to forget
him. That’s all there is to it.*
Heartbroken
acceptance. Tearful resolution. *What now?* Jinpachi had been the only man, the only _one._ Never anyone else, man or woman. Always Jinpachi. Always Gyokuran.
Moon-bright, tears fell
from cheeks that were smooth, rounded.
Not sharp and angular, not by a long shot. *I should have been born a girl...* How many times had that thought crossed his
mind – tentative, shy, fearing rejection even from himself. Even before he had known... Dear Sarjilim, how could he have known?
He cringed as he
recalled those fantasies. How his
courage, stored through the months till they achieved critical mass, would be
rewarded. How Jinpachi’s eyes would
widen, stare into his as if seeing him for the first time. “Issei,” he’d whisper, soft, wondering,
breath catching. Then he would smile,
and the second kiss would be his, all his.
His to claim, his to give.
He could still see that
smile, feel that kiss, even as reality had slapped him in the face. Jinpachi’s disgust had taken a second to
register, to recognize. The two
scenarios battled, overlapping, breaking upon each other, bleeding. “A joke.
A bad joke,” he’d said, to Jinpachi’s horrified eyes, even as tears,
moon-bright, fell from his own.
A joke. On him.
He lay down on the bed,
burying his face into his pillow, seeking comfort there. He wondered if he should have asked Sakura
to stay, allowed her to try to cheer him up, let her try to distract him from
the bleakness of his future.
The thought of Sakura
birthed a smile. Frail, shaky, but it
was a smile all the same. Sakura. So
strong. So certain of what should be or
should not be. Enju had been the same.
Despite everything he was grateful for that.
For Enju's strength, for her woman’s heart. A man’s heart would have shattered. Simply a man, he would have crumbled.
It had taken time, this
understanding, this acceptance. *_I'm
not Enju! I'm Issei! Issei!
My life is my own!_* How
silly those protestations seemed now.
How useless. He was who he was,
Enju and Issei and the Universe, all packed and compacted into this tiny human
body. And it _was_ tiny, this
body. He sometimes wondered how so many
memories, how so much pain and promise could be contained in such a small
vessel, in such a small mind.
Enju and Gyokuran. Issei and Jinpachi. Always.
Forever.
He looked at the
moon. It had never seemed farther
away.
If he could turn back
time, would he have played it differently? Stayed safe, allowed Jinpachi to
babble on about his feelings for Alice, for Moukuren? But his awakening had robbed him of that ability; that shallow,
listening-with-half-an-ear knack that all human men possessed. Jinpachi still owned it – he was still all
man. Insensitive, impervious,
uncaring. Jinpachi was still
earth-bound. Earth-bound, when he,
Issei, had become moon-bright.
Earth-bound
Jinpachi. How strange, how _idiotic,_
that he could so readily accept the idea of a past life, of aliens living on
the moon. That he could embrace the
idea that once he’d been Gyokuran, that Issei had been Enju, and that Alice had
been Moukuren, and yet he not could accept...
could not understand...
If he could understand
how the soul survived, how could he dismiss the heart?
*A joke. A bad joke.
Just forget it.*
Or was he the one who
refused to understand? That Jinpachi
did not have a problem with his sexuality, but, in fact, his _love?_ They – Enju and Gyokuran – had been
lovers. Issei knew beyond the shadow of
any doubt that Enju had loved Gyokuran, but he was less certain of Gyokuran’s
feelings.
He almost laughed. *Less certain, my ass.* Gyokuran had never said he loved Enju. He'd loved Moukuren. Enju had simply been... convenient.
Enju had loved Gyokuran despite that. Stuck on the moon, seven people,
three women, four men... The thought
was terrible, but almost forgivable.
*And yet, in this
new world, with its billions of inhabitants, why still you? Why still us?*
*Memories of a dead
woman, is that all this is?*
He closed his eyes,
exhausted. He wanted to sleep, to
forget about Jinpachi and Gyokuran, about dead moon-women and impossible
loves. What good would it do him,
anyway?
*You’ll just have to
forget him, that’s all,* he told
himself, resolutely. *Just move on.*
*Go to sleep,*
he ordered himself, relaxing, letting his thoughts fade into a bright
white nothing. *You’ll feel better
tomorrow.*
As he drifted off into
unconsciousness, somewhere inside him, a dead moon-woman laughed. *Silly child. If death didn’t free you, what makes you think sleep will...?*
***
They were seated
on the couch of her small living space.
She had been comparing similarities in their beliefs and in the pagan
religions of earth, and Jinpachi had offered to help her with her research. But of course it hadn’t been long before he
started to talk about his feelings for Moukuren. She had tried to halt his ramblings, hinting broadly that she
needed to work, but he’d paid no attention.
He’d gone on to list Moukuren’s virtues while bemoaning his lot.
“I swear,
Jinpachi,” she finally snapped, throwing the printouts she’d been studying on
the table. She was usually a quiet,
timid person but she’d had enough. Her
patience, tested through months of silence and self-sacrifice, had reached its
absolute limit. “One more word and I won’t be responsible for my actions!”
“But…”
“Argh -- you
asked for it!”
She was only
planning to shake him, to rouse him out of this infuriating self-inflicted
depression. But the moment her hands
closed around his shoulders, the moment she looked up into his eyes, she forgot
what she was doing. For once, she went
with the urge, pulling his face towards hers and planting the hottest, most
passionate kiss she could manage under the circumstances firmly on his lips.
Startled, he
tried to move back, his mouth opening on a protest. Taking advantage, she swept in, her blood boiling with more than
anger. She placed everything she had in
that kiss, willing him to understand.
To respond.
He didn’t. He simply sat there, _taking it,_ as
if her kiss was some horrible ordeal he had resigned himself to.
A rush of nausea,
of tears, and she ended the kiss before she could further humiliate
herself. “Well,” she stammered, trying
to save face. “That... that certainly
shut you up. I... I should have tried it before.”
Gyokuran simply
stared at her, his face was almost as pale as hers, his eyes unreadable. "Enju..."
“It was a joke,”
she tried to explain, as he continued to stare at her.. “A bad one.” Panic-stricken and horrified,
she stood up to leave. To run. To hide.
He caught her hand in his, halting her escape. She struggled briefly then stood still, her face averted. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He stood up,
walked around so he was facing her.
"Look at me," he ordered softly, even as his hand touched her
cheek. "Don't apologize. I… I
liked it."
Her eyes flew to
his. "You did?" she gasped, almost squeaked.
He nodded
solemnly. "Yeah. Do it again."
This time, _she_
could only stare at _him._ Then
he smiled, and his head moved down. He
was still smiling when their lips met again.
She didn’t pause
to wonder or question. Without
hesitation, her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping themselves around his
neck, pressing her body against his. *Yes,
oh yes!* His hands were around her
waist, clutching at the cloth around her hips. He kissed her hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Somehow, they ended back on the couch,
Jinpachi pressing her down on its soft cushions. His mouth was now on her shoulder, on her neck, inhaling her
scent, tasting her skin, while her hands roamed restlessly, tangling in his
hair, clutching at his back.
*Skin,* she thought, frustratedly, almost
desperately. *I want to _feel_
him.*
Her hands found
his collar, began to work towards freeing him from its confines. His hands closed around hers. To help, she thought, and was totally disoriented to realize that he
was not, and that he’d stopped kissing her.
She groaned, protesting, clutching at his arms as he moved away.
“I’m sorry,
Enju,” he whispered, hoarsely. “This
shouldn’t have happened.”
“What shouldn’t
have happened?” she whispered back, her voice almost failing her. “Nothing’s happened yet.”
“I shouldn’t have
taken advantage of you,” he answered, sitting up and threading his fingers
through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s just that... We’ve been on this moon so long...” He looked at her, his eyes filled with embarrassment. “It’s been... lonely. But that’s no reason to... to...”
She didn’t know
whether to laugh or cry, to hug or slap him. *_I’m_ here, you asshole,*
she thought, having picked up some contemporary terran terms in the course of
her studies. *You think _you’re_
lonely?* Only Gyokuran’s tone,
sincere and intent, stopped her from acting on any of those instincts.
Despite
everything, despite all the pain he’d caused her, Gyokuran was a
gentleman. That was part of his
problem. He wouldn’t take advantage of
her, and he wouldn’t betray Shion by going after Moukuren when the two were
already engaged. So where did that
leave him? Or her?
Instead, she sat
up and took his face in her hands,
forcing him to look at her. “You’re not
the only one,” she informed him, gently,
“who's been lonely.”
His eyes
flared. “But...”
She shook her
head, placing a finger over his lips.
“Maybe,” she ventured, “maybe we
don’t have to be lonely tonight.”
“Enju...”
She kissed him
again, softly this time, afraid she’d scare him away again. She traced his jaw line, making her way to
his ear. “It’s alright,” she whispered,
encouragingly, as he reached for her again.
“Just let it happen.”
There was a
rightness to the feeling, a sense of déjà vu, as if she had somehow managed to
record this moment and was now replaying it, for the hundredth time.
“I feel like
we’ve done this before,” he whispered, wonderingly, echoing her thoughts.
“Have we?” she
asked, more interested in the feelings he was invoking within her than in that
vague uneasiness. The reality was
Gyokuran, his hands on her, his body preparing to give to her.
Their clothes
disappeared, along with their reason.
With one last half-rational thought Gyokuran extinguished the lights,
leaving only the earth shining in the porthole. Everything else disappeared.
There was only the earth. And
them.
Beneath his hands
she blossomed, like one of Moukuren’s plants.
Every caress was a drop of rain, every kiss was a ray of light. These she took into herself, absorbing them,
till she was filled to overflowing. Till she burned, till she glowed,
moon-bright.
Then, suddenly,
an urgency, totally discrete from the need of her body seized her.
“Gyokuran,” she
whispered, urgently, capturing his face in her hands, to look into his eyes
once more.
“What is it?” he
asked, worriedly, struggling to keep his impatience in check. “Did I hurt you?”
“Gyokuran, say my
name.”
“What?”
“Say my
name. Please.”
He looked at her,
confused. "Enju..."
She shook her
head. "The other one. Say it," she said, almost
pleading. "Just once. Just once, Jinpachi. I'll never ask again." She used that name deliberately, so he’d
know what she was asking.
He spoke slowly,
uncertainly, as if he was only now
discovering he could speak.
"Is... Issei."
She smiled,
feeling tears, moon-bright, pool in her eyes.
And then he kissed her again, bringing his body to hers, into hers, and
there was no more need for words. No
more need for tears.
***
Reluctantly, he opened
his eyes. He was alone, but he could
still feel Gyokuran’s arms around him.
A few moments later, the phone rang.
*Dammit, Jinpachi,
can't you let me enjoy this a while longer?*
The feel of Gyokuran's
hands, the taste of his kiss. His heat, his strength. Issei wanted to stay on the moon and never wake up.
But even in the
moonlight, the memories were rapidly receding, like a dream. Or was the dream
fading, like a memory? He didn’t care.
They were one and the same to him.
Both fleeting, both impossible to hold on to.
The answering machine
picked up the call. "Issei, are
you there? I know it's late... Did you --?
Nevermind. Forget it. I hope you feel better soon. I'll see you in school."
Jinpachi's voice
sounded confused, embarrassed, even
slightly horrified. *Earth-bound,*
Issei thought, accepting his friend’s limitations even as he mourned them. *I’m a fool. If you didn't love her -- sweet, generous, _female_ Enju,
-- then how could you ever love _me?_*
And yet he remembered
one part of the dream vividly. Even more than their shared caresses, even more
than the fulfillment of Enju's climax, one moment stood out like a bright point
of light in the darkness.
*Say my name, Jinpachi.*
*Is... Issei.*
"You’re a
telepath," Daisuke had said. "That’s why you share dreams with
Jinpachi."
He sat up, knowing
sleep was now beyond him, thoughts crowding his head.
A telepath, able to
project dreams. But was it possible he
could do more? Had that moment, so
clear in his mind's eye, simply been
part of the dream? Something he’d
manipulated, a sleeping fantasy? Or had it been a memory, something that had
really happened?
But how could Gyokuran
and Enju know about their future lives?
It seemed impossible, a
ridiculous thought. And yet, was that
so hard to believe, after all he’d already come to accept? *Maybe the soul doesn’t just survive,*
he realized. *Maybe the soul just _is,_
and there’s no past, no future, simply _being._* He glanced outside the window, to the moon
that still shone outside. *And our
lives are just windows, looking out into different worlds. It’s the same earth, the same moon. We’re just looking at them from different
points of view.*
But if that were the
case, did that mean that if Gyokuran had not loved Enju on the moon, he never
would, in any life? Was that Enju’s
eternal destiny? To always be in love with someone who would never love her back?
Or were Buddhists right? That souls were fated to live
over and over again, till certain lessons were learned, till their mistakes
were corrected. Since they died on the
moon, their lives unfulfilled, were they reborn on earth for a purpose? Did Sarjilim send them here with a wave of
her hand, saying: ‘Get it right this time, kids. Save the earth, save yourselves, live and be happy’?
Was this life a gift of
the goddess, and if so, how many chances did they get?
He shook his head,
which was starting to throb from such complicated thoughts. He was, after all, just a high-school
kid. He wasn’t going to uncover the
secrets of the Universe, sitting on his bed, angsting over an unrequited love.
So much pain this
awakening had caused him, and yet, he could only believe that it all had a
reason, a purpose. He wished that
Shion would show himself so he could finally know what all this commotion
was all about and he’d maybe have a clue what to do.
He didn’t know what he
was supposed to do. What he _did_
know was how he _felt._
He kept looking at the
moon. The moon -- all at once hateful
and beloved, barren and yet filled with memories. Bright, thought it only shone with reflected light.
It should have floated
free, this moon, this asteroid. But
caught, bound by the earth’s gravity, it could only circle the earth
helplessly, always near, but never touching.
Like Gyokuran to Moukuren. Like
Issei to Jinpachi.
Someday it might find
the strength to break free. Someday it
may find it’s own light. But for now it
hovered there, content with its place in the sky.
It's place in the
sky...
A feeling, closely akin
to peace, filled him then.
Gyokuran and Enju. Jinpachi and
Issei. Always. Forever.
*It’s okay, Jinpachi,* he thought. *Tomorrow I’ll go back to school and smile at you and I’ll
make sure you’re never lonely. I’ll be
your friend, your best friend. I
promise, I’ll never ask again.*
He would let Jinpachi
find his own light. He would keep loving Jinpachi while letting him go to find
his happiness elsewhere. He would make
him smile and hold his hand, even if he could never hold his heart. He would be friend instead of lover, and he
would watch over him like the moon watched over the earth. He would stay as he was – moon-bright and
earth-bound all at once.
And maybe, just maybe,
in the end, he would find out it wasn’t such a bad thing to be.
THE
END
Copyright
Jessi Albano 2000
9/30/00
10:59:04 PM