Fate
By Ricci

Disclaimers:
The character of Mamoru belongs to Takeuchi Naoko, my interpretation belongs 
to myself. Feel free to e-mail me to tliebla@fh-koblenz.de. 
Maybe You know my story "Life Goes On" (You don't ?!? sob!!). Actually this 
was created first. I wrote it when I was playing with the idea of Mamoru 
using alcohol to forget about his pain for the first time. I decided not to
let it play a major part for Mamoru, though, because I think he is such a 
strong and also intelligent character, that he wouldn't depend on drugs. But 
that doesn't mean he never tried... Anyway, I hope You like the story! If You
do or if You don't, just write me, I'm happy about both kinds of feedback. 
See Ya! ^_~  Ricci

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The entrance of the university was crowded with people. Some students relaxed
in the sun, talking with friends or reading a book. I wasn`t. In spite of the 
good mood that surrounded me, I was rather depressed. I always wear an 
indifferent mask on my face, hiding my feelings from anyone who could be 
interested. Not that there was someone. The only friend I`ve been able to 
make so far was Motoki, who worked at the arcade, but I am so used to keep my 
emotions locked away that I never even considered to show Motoki how I felt. 
I was sure, that no one could understand. I looked up and stared into the sky 
for a moment, ignoring the students that rushed by. It was so peaceful. No 
clouds. No storm coming up. I felt as if I could lose myself in the blue 
width. Someone bumped into me. 

"Uh, excuse me, I wasn`t paying attention..." I just nodded, as the boy 
apologized.

As I opened the door to my appartment the usual silence greeted me. I walked 
to the balcony and opened the door, letting the gentle summer breeze in. I 
stared at the familiar sight of the skyline. Why did I still go on? What
kept me alive? I didn`t know. All of my life I have been alone. I have come
to like it, but sometimes it hurts. It hurts a lot to see families, to see 
brothers and sisters, couples that walk by. I want to join them, want so 
desperately to love and to be loved. I just don`t know how. I can`t open 
up. It`s as if there`s a heavy weight upon my shoulders, keeping me down,
keeping everything surpressed until I think I am going to explode. That`s 
when I hide away in my silent bedroom and shamefully shed those tears. 
Will my life go on this way? I have to find a purpose. At first I thought 
to bury myself in my studies would help. I tried oh so hard to be content 
with my books. But it didn`t help. When I went to bed I still was alone, 
no one saying Good Night, no one caring if I slept well or not. 
Back in the orphanage I had tried to become invisible. I was so confused, 
not knowing who I was or where I belonged that I wished I could slowly 
fade away. Just becoming less and less visible until I was completely gone. 
I had lost connection to the real world,  I felt as if I was drifting. So 
I stopped eating, or rather simply forgot about it. But it had the opposite 
effect. Instead of becoming invisible I stood in the middle of attention 
suddenly. All I could feel was fear. Nameless fear. All I had was my name 
and my will, and they wanted to take away the latter. That was when I 
decided to hide everything deep inside, to show them a smooth surface that
would easily be overlooked. And it worked, so far. But it worked against me. 
Maybe it was useful when I was a child, depending on other people and only 
trying to survive. But now I`m an adult. I am supposed to have a girl-friend,
to go to student parties, join sport clubs etc. There`s nothing. 
Oh Gods, how pathetic. Here I am, drowning in my self compassion again. Wish 
I could see the difference between truth and self compassion. Today looks
like yesterday, and yesterday looks like tomorrow. Always the same, 
different faces, different weather, different clothes. The days pass by, 
unnoticed. Why do I insist on keeping up this farce? Life doesn`t mean 
anything to me. It`s only this pressing feeling that I still have... to do 
something. Something awaits me, I don`t know what, but I know it will 
happen. I don`t know if it will set me free, but it will change my life. I 
don`t dare to hope. In the darkness there glows this tiny spot of light, 
giving me enough warmth to keep going on, instead of doing what my depressed 
senses tell me. Some time ago I thought about drowning my conscience in 
alcohol. Or drugs. Or both. But this tiny ember forbid it. It just said no. 
So I said no. Still, the tempation remained, planting its seeds deep in my 
brain. Now and then they flashed to life, leaving me fighting for control. 
Only four months ago I lost control. It had overcome me in my darkest 
despair, where I was close to welcome death as the less hurting alternative. 
I couldn`t stand the pressure of my walls anymore, so I fled out of my 
appartment, into the night, trying to run from myself. I stranded in a quite 
dirty night-club, where some underpaid strippers smiled their hollow smiles 
while showing their bodies. It didn`t matter to me. I think I started with 
gin, though I`m not sure, could have been wodka, too. Felt like burning fire 
at first, but after some drinks the burning ceased and so did my senses. I 
remember that I actually smiled to one of the strippers, gripping my glas 
and pouring down the sedating liquid. Next thing I remember is that I woke 
up with the biggest headache I ever had, lying between some garbage bags and 
covered with newspapers. Smelling like a street rat. It took me some time to 
get up and even more to find my way home unharmed. I did drink after that, 
but only when I was safe in my appartment. But it really got me nowhere. 
Maybe I`m ignorant, but I`m not stupid. So I quickly got rid of this habit. 
Thank God I didn`t try drugs.

I keep my rooms very tidy. If they are messed up, I feel like I lost 
control. Control is over-important for me. I still recall the helplessness 
when I was younger. No one decides over my life now but me. And maybe someone
walks into my life, into my home. No, the real reason is, that I need to be 
busy to forget about this black void in my life. If you look at my 
appartment- there's not much that tells that I am its owner. I mean, I could 
just move out and someone else move in, there'd be not much difference. It's 
not as if I try to keep my rooms impersonal. I'm just too afraid to really 
like this place, to feel attached to it somehow, to simply considering it as
my home. Sometimes this restlessness comes over me, and I am always close to 
the point to pack my stuff and leave, in search for... I don't know what. 
But I don't want to leave the relative safety of my present situation behind.
Instead of listening to what my heart says I busy my mind with other things. 
Studies, housework,... and growing roses on my balcony. I really like roses. 
They combine the most delicate beauty with the most cruel defense. They 
tease you to come and get them - and when you do, they hurt you. In some way 
they`re just like me. There were girls interested in me, in my looks, that 
is, but my cold behaviour keeps them off. And there never was a girl I 
really cared about. I know the difference between desire and love. I`m not 
entirely sure what I do expect from my future girl-friend, if there ever 
will be one. I missed so many ways of being loved. Sometimes I want to be 
loved as a child, someone comforting me when I wake up from a nightmare and 
saying that everything will be alright. Or I want to be loved as a brother, 
feeling equal to someone, tease him or her, getting teased. Most of all I 
want to be loved as the man I am, with all my dark sides. I want her to 
understand my feelings without words. I`m no good at words. The right ones 
never come to me when I need them most. I couldn`t tell her how I feel - but 
I could show her. If I ever get so close to her, that is. Life is like a 
puzzle, a glittering mystery that wants to be solved. I often get exhausted 
or depressed when I realize that I`ve been searching for a very important 
piece, that`s just beyond my reach. I can`t ignore it, though. There has to 
be a meaning. There has to be.  A purpose. 
I want to study medicine. That`s a way to get close to people, too. But I 
don`t fool myself into thinking it will solve my personal problems. It`s a 
rather selfish reason for studying medicine, I know. Life means development, 
I can`t stand still and watch the rest of my life crumble to dust. And I 
don`t want to either. Hell, I`m young! There are still so many things I can 
do, so many goals I can achieve. I won`t give up now. Never.
Oh my, another hour spend lost in thoughts. I really have to stop that, 
it's getting me nowhere except for deeper depression. I go back to those 
little things that keep you distracted. You know, watering plants, 
organizing my studies, doing a shopping list... but my thoughts wander off
again and again.  I have to learn to open up to people. I WANT to learn. But
who'll teach me? I don't want to see a therapist or something like that. No 
that would be no good. He would turn my inside out and stare at it with cold 
analyzing eyes. No comforts from him. Hell, what shall I do? I'm so 
confused. Confusion may be a major part in my life, but I'll never get used 
to it anyway. In fact I don't even try any longer. I just go the easiest 
way, burying everything that disturbs me deep inside and never look at it 
again. In those lonely nights it comes haunting me, tearing at my will to 
live. But like I said - I won't give up. Not now or ever. 
Tokyo looks like a giant sleeping black cat at night. I see the little 
lights sparkle, so promising, yet so distant. My mind ceases to go in 
circles. I feel very calm now, almost as if I'm drifting. So many people out
there... sleeping, working, or doing both... In moments like this I am 
reassured. Something awaits me. Something is out there. Or someone... And is
waiting. Waiting just for me.


The End