standard disclaimers apply:  I don't own sailor moon
or any of the characters related to it, so please
don't sue me!



a friend is one to whom one may pour out all the
contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together
knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and
sift it keep what is worth keeping and with a breath
of kindness blow the rest away
			  - Arabian Proverb
However far apart we may be, love will always carry
me close to thee. - Tuxedo Mask/Kamen



i'd like to thank ekaterinn and evil endy for inspiring me
to write and get this part out!  arigato!



April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain



before you continue, i'd just like to let you know
that this part has to do with the beginning of the
red chapter.  i hope that you don't get confused.
email me if you do, i'll explain what i can, without
giving away too much of the plot.



		Love was always a very important
thing to me.  I never truly realized how important it was until
I actually felt it.  Most people thought of me as incapable of
love.  I didn't care what they thought, at least, that's what I
told myself.  But, after hearing the same thing over and over
again, one begins to wonder if there is any truth to their
words, a hidden meaning.
		*She* taught me otherwise.  I owe my
entire existence to *her.*

"Who is she?"

		*She* was my love, my life, my
everything.  I never understood how I could've ever lived
without *her* . . . I don't know how I can live without
*her.*

"Was?  Did someone replace her?"

		No.  No one ever could.  Anyone who
knew me, knew that.  I can't, couldn't live without her.

"Is that why you-"

		No.  I never could.  I wanted to, many
times, but I knew that I would dishonor *her* if I did.

"Please tell me who *she* is?  I want to know!  Night after
night you haunt me . . . taunting me, teasing me, but never
telling me what I wish to know!"

		I cannot.

"Why?"

		Because, you already know who
*she* is . . .



Shades of Lilac:  Green



"What was your life like?"

		Growing up wasn't easy for me.  Sure
I had the means and the best education, but I lacked the
most important thing in life . . . love.
		I never really thought much of it, that
is, until *she* came into my life.  But that's another story.
		Cedric, "inherited" me after an
accident killed my parents, Lord Adonis and Lady Celeste.
You see, Cedric was our butler of sorts.  He was more like
family than my real family, if you could call them that.  I
still remember my mother's warm and gentle voice ringing
in my ears, warning me about them.  She told me many
things . . . things I didn't understand at the time, though I
wish I did.
		Somehow, I think she knew that her
time here was short.  I only say this because rather than
telling me fairy tales, as most mothers do, she tried to teach
me about life's lessons; lessons she hoped that I would
remember and use during my life.  I still do remember them,
and each day I hope that I do her teachings justice.
		Similarly, my father taught me things
he thought would be necessary for me to know.  For
instance, he showed me how to fence and other techniques
with the sword.  Well, perhaps he wasn't successful, for I
was at the tender age of six when my lessons began.  But,
I still remember, and always will.  My time with my parents
was cut short, and I wasn't going to let that stop me from
losing my memories, nor was I going to in any way, destroy
what they tried so hard to instill into me.
		Cedric did the best he could.  He
educated me in the arts and taught me everything a man of
my status and position would need to know.  But, he never
taught me to love.  He must've figured that since, after my
parents death, I became a very morbid child, I would never
love.  But he was wrong.  He also had to have thought that
my so-called family would have me betrothed to one of my
cousins, so as to keep the wealth within the family.
Whatever the reason, it didn't matter . . . he was always
there when I needed him.
		To tell you the truth, I had no
interests in either of my cousins, nor did I have any desire
to marry one of them.  I wouldn't give into their wishes
and live a miserable life.  As if my life wasn't miserable
enough.
		If I ever married, it wouldn't be to
please them, it would be because I wanted to, because I
love the woman I wanted to marry and she, in turn, loved
me.  They never understood that.  They never understood
what love had to do with anything.  Both of my cousins
had such a deranged view of love.  I felt bad for anyone
who ended up with them.  For them, wealth equaled love.
They didn't understand the immaterial desires associated
with love.
		That's besides the point.  Well, then,
let's see, it wasn't until I was about sixteen that I met this
family of mine.  It consisted of my uncle, Duncan, his wife,
Callandra, and their children, Beryl and Anne.  They were
all driven by one thing:  greed.  They could never have
enough of anything.  Their motto was:  Too much is never
enough, and they lived by it.

"Did you expect them to be any different?"

		I don't really know.  I mean, I knew my
mother didn't like them, and my father tried to cut ties with
them, but since he was related to my Uncle, it was kind of
hard.  They were each other's family.  My grandparents
died long before I was even born and my father, being the
family oriented man he was, could not and would never turn
his back on his brother.  I suppose that's why I couldn't turn
my back on them either.  I didn't want my father to be upset at
me.
		Anyhow, I really didn't know what to
expect.  I don't know that I even had any expectations nor
did I know that they were coming.  You see, they just
showed up.  Just like that.  I remember it clearly . . .

"Well?"

		Yes?

"Aren't you going to tell me anything more?"

		Of course I was.  You are a very
strange girl, you know that.  So, where was I?  Ah yes, the
day my family came . . . There was nothing out of the
ordinary when they arrived.  The weather was typical of
that time of year.
		Wait.
		I do remember that it may have been a
little chillier that day.  Yes, that was the only thing, and
when I met *her,* the weather was much warmer.

"Why do you tease me so?"

		You have to know the past, accept it,
and learn from it before you understand the future.

"What does all of this have to do with me?"

		You were never really a patient one.
Only when it mattered did you control yourself.

"What do you mean?"

		Never mind.  Look at what you've done
now, I've lost my train of though- never mind, I've got it
again.
		So, the day was a bit chilly and a few
clouds were present.  Not too many since I was able to
read my textbook by the window in the study.  You see,
our study, or library, as you might know it, was rather large.
Whenever anyone wanted silence, they went there, more
specifically, they went to the little niche in the corner of the
room, where a large window was set, overlooking the
gardens.  It was truly peaceful.  My father had a little sitting
area built into the window, so that you didn't need a desk
or anything like that.  You just sat there and enjoyed the
silence, the serenity . . . It was one of my favorite places,
our favorite places . . .
		On that particular afternoon, I was
there.  All was calm, when all of a sudden, Luna, my nurse,
came bursting in, exclaiming something to me.  She grabbed
me and told me that they were here.
		I hadn't the slightest clue as to what
she was talking about.  I thought that perhaps she had
gone insane, for during my time, such diseases of the mind
were prevalent.
		After Luna came in, Artimas followed,
telling her to calm down.  I laughed at the sight.  I could
not help it.  Can you imagine, two grown adults fighting
like that?
		I knew that I wouldn't get anything
out of them, so I did the only thing I could think of . . . I
went to find Cedric, and instead of Cedric, I came face to
face with a tall, lean, red-headed girl.  She looked to be
about my age and was grinning incessantly, only to be
shoved away by another girl, who was batting her eye
lashes at me and asking me to show her around the house.
The new girl had more of a brownish color to her hair.

"Who were they?  Beryl and Anne?"

		Yes.  The first girl was Beryl, and she
was indeed my age, and the second was her younger
sister, Anne.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



		"Really though.  I'm alright with it."
		Before Motoki had a chance to respond,
Mamoru strode in, ready for "battle,"
		"Fancy meeting you here, Odang-"
		Mamoru stopped.  Whatever he was
expecting this was not it.  His jaw dropped as he took in the
intimate position *his* Odango and best friend were in.
		Motoki's head was placed in Usagi's lap.
Her small, soft fingers were playing with Motoki's unruly
blonde hair, in an attempt to comfort him.  He seemed to relax
under her ministrations.  His eyes were closed and his face
was etched with a dream-like expression and a small smile
tugged at his lips.



		Mamoru on the other hand, was not
happy.
		Red.
		Mamoru saw red.  His eyes darkened to
an almost black color.  Still, he saw red.  His fingers, no
longer sweaty, tightened around the glass.  His jaw, getting
back its normal function, also tightened.
		"Mamoru?" Usagi asked hesitantly, her voice
laced with surprise and confusion.
		Motoki jumped up at the sound of
Mamoru's name.  He had forgotten that Mamoru was still
there.  At the look of shock and betrayal present in Mamoru's
eyes and on his face, Motoki gulped, only now realizing the
extent of Mamoru's infatuation with Usagi.



		"Kuso," Motoki muttered under his breath.
		Usagi looked at him and then at Mamoru,
and back again.  She didn't know what was going on, and frankly
she didn't want to really know.  Although the almost jealous and
possessive look in Mamoru's eyes was enough to make her
stomach flutter with butterflies and her heart pick up its pace.  She
could feel her pacemaker lurch, increasing the flow of blood
throughout her body, causing a light pink hue grace her cheeks.
		She wondered why Mamoru felt jealous.  A
part of her wondered if it had to do with her.  Perhaps he liked her?
		No, it couldn't be, she thought.  But the
thought of Mamoru feeling something like *that* over her, excited
her.  She didn't know why though, he was supposed to be her
"enemy."
		Usagi knew it wasn't possible.  She felt her
heart feel heavy.  He would never like, much less love, someone
like her.  She was everything he wasn't:  stupid, ungraceful . . . and
the list went on and on.  They were opposites and there wasn't
a chance for them to ever get together.  But a part of her still
hoped . . . no matter how impossible it seemed, Usagi always
believed that as long as one had hope, everything would turn out
for the better.



		Mamoru stood firmly with his darkened eyes
glaring at Motoki accusingly.  He noticed that Motoki's blue eyes
looked back at him, almost pleadingly, begging Mamoru for a
chance to explain.
		'He had better have a good explanation for
*this* ' Mamoru though wryly, still holding his glare at Motoki.



		Motoki gulped.
		How was he going to explain this to Mamoru
without breaking his promise, promises, he corrected himself, to
Usagi?
		He had to think of something real fast.
Mamoru looked like he was ready to eat him alive!  Suddenly, an
idea came to Motoki, as a grin threatened to spread across his face.
If this is what it took for Mamoru to realize just how much he cared
about the odangoed one, well then what would it take for Mamoru
to admit it to her?
		An idea formed in Motoki's head.  This was
going to be great!  That is, after he put Mamoru's unfound jealousy
to rest.
		"Uh," Motoki started, breaking the tension-
filled silence that had taken over the room, "Usa, could you go and
warm up some of that soup you made for me.  I'm feeling kinda
hungry and it's almost time for my medication.  Oh and, uh,
Mamoru and I have to discuss a project for school, so could you
not disturb us for awhile."
		"Sure, Toki-chan," Usagi said as she got up
from the couch and walked toward the kitchen.



		"Here," Mamoru spat angrily as he thrusted
the glass of water towards his so-called best friend.
		Motoki's hand shakily grasped the glass and
set it on the coffee table.
		"Mamoru, don't be angry.  It's not what you
think."
		"Not what I think!  Motoki, I thought you
were my friend, my best friend.  You knew how much I liked her!
So, I kept teasing her instead of doing something about it, that
didn't give you the right to go after her behind my back!"
		"Mamoru, if you'd just sit down and listen to
me.  I can explain everything, I swear."
		Mamoru grunted before sitting down.
Although he was upset at Motoki, he still had to give him the
benefit of the doubt.  They were after all friends.  Mamoru crossed
his arms across his chest, still holding an angry expression in his
eyes.
		"I'm waiting."
		"Alright.  Well, you see, Usa and I are not an
item."
		"Could've fooled me."
		"Mamoru, just listen to everything I have to
say, before interrupting me, ok?"
		Mamoru snorted as Motoki continued,
		"Ok, where was I . . . right, Usa and I are not
a couple.  She's more like my sister, and you know it.  When you
walked in on us, she was only trying to comfort me, and I have to
admit, she did.  There wasn't anything else to it.  It was an innocent
moment between two siblings.  Besides, I would never do anything
to jeopardize our relationship.  You know how much I value our
friendship . . . also, I have Reika, and I love her very much."
		Mamoru sighed.  He did know that Motoki
and Usagi had a brother-sister relationship and he did know that
Motoki would never do anything like that to him, even if he liked
the girl.  Friendship meant a lot to Motoki, as it did to Mamoru, and
neither would allow a girl, no matter how beautiful, to ruin it.  Then,
of course, there was Reika.  The young woman who had caught
Motoki's eye.  Every time Mamoru saw the two of them together,
he saw the love they felt for each other.
		"I know.  Gomen ne.  I shouldn't have jumped
to conclusions."
		"It's ok.  If I was in your place, I probably
would've done the same."
		"So then what were you and Usagi talking
about?"
		"I'm not really supposed to say, but, you have
to promise not to tell anyone, ok?"
		"Hai."
		"You see, Usagi's been having these strange
dreams about this guy . . . "
		At the mention of another man invading
Usagi's dreams, Mamoru stiffened.  Feeling the green-eyed monster
rear its ugly head once more.
		'She dreams of someone else?' he thought.
Curious about his "competition," Mamoru asked,
		"What do these dreams entail?"
		"Well, she's been having them a lot, and this
guy talks to her about his past and Usa asks him questions, mostly
stuff like that.  Anyway, one night, Usa heard him say something,
but she couldn't remember what he said.  She asked him to repeat
what he just said and he refused, saying that he said too much.
The next thing she knew, he was gone and she got a vision of a
place.  It was a castle, to be exact.  She saw a garden full of roses,
and once again, before she had a chance to explore or ask
questions, it was gone, and she woke up with the smell of lilacs
invading her senses.
		After that, she went to the library and looked
up information about medieval castles.  She came across one that
was known for its elaborate rose garden.  According to the source,
the owner of the castle loved roses.  He married his true love and
he added lilacs to the garden, making it even more unique.  You
see, his wife, although she loved roses, loved lilacs even more.
Since he loved her so much, he added the lilacs to the garden.  The
place was called The Whispering Willows and it's in England.
Furthermore, the book said that a great tragedy befell the couple.
Ever since then, anyone who entered the castle has alway felt
a sense of loneliness and sadness.  They say that it is haunted.
		Anyway, Usagi asked her parents to let her
go there for spring break.  They refused to send her by herself,
and that's where I came in.  She didn't want to tell her other friends,
nor did she want to disclose the real reason for her trip to England.
She thought that they'd think that she was insane or something.
Her dad knows that I'm like a brother to her, and he was
comfortable knowing that I would go with her, so he gave her
permission, just as long as I go."
		Mamoru sat in silence as he absorbed what
Motoki had just told him.  The name, Whispering Willows, and the
story of the man and his wife made the tiny hairs on the back of his
neck stand up.  Mamoru shivered as a feeling of recognition
passed through him.  Where had he heard that name before?
		"Uh, Mamoru, you alright?" Motoki asked,
breaking Mamoru out of his thoughts.
		"Huh?  Oh, yeah . . . I'm ok.  Just thinking.  So,
is that what you meant when you said that you were breaking a
promise?"
		"Yeah.  Now that I'm sick, I can't go and her
dad won't let her go by herself.  I feel so horrible."
		An invisible bulb lit up on top of Mamoru's
head.  If his Odango was in need of an escort, who better than to
help out.  Mamoru grinned evilly at Motoki was stared back at him
confused.
		"Oh no!  No way!  Are you insane Mamoru?!"



confused?  email me and i'll try my best to undo what i've
done, without giving away too much.  oh and what is our
dear mamo-chan up to?  *winks*  who knows!  lol.  *grins*

the poem in the beginning was written by T.S. Eliot.  it
was called "The Waste Land," and was written in
1922.

feedback is always appreciated.  ja ne!

redrose