Terence Fergusson (nc005390@newcol.demon.co.uk)

Books/Bubblegum Crisis/Sailor Moon
"Boomers and Youmas"

Part 2 : "Kawaii Just Doesn't Cut It"

Both Bubblegum Crisis and Sailor Moon are copyrighted by their
respective copyright owners.  Any material used from Bubblegum Crisis
or the original Sailor Moon series are not of my own creation, and I
take no credit for it.  Thank you for not suing me.

Ian Robinson, Chronos, and all the Books-related stuff are presumably
copyright Terence Fergusson aka Me.  This fanfic, excepting those
scenes, characters and other stuff that belongs to the two
aforementioned series, plus any other anime, manga or general fiction,
is mine.

Story notes:           /.../  designates thoughts...
                       _..._  designates stressed words...

Any other strange symbols _should_ be self-explanatory.

The prologue to this part is _exactly_ the same as the preview at the
end of the previous chapter, so feel free to skip it if you've already
read it.

And now, to continue....

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  PROLOGUE

    DAY 2

  Ian ran full pelt out of the portal, none the worse for wear from
his experience, and skidded to a halt within a large shopping
precinct.  With badly hidden frustration, he noticed that the signs
were still in Japanese, but fortunately, it seemed, he was back in the
present day.  By the light streaming in from outside, it was early
afternoon.  A clock on the other side of the building confirmed it.
  It was a little odd, that the portal had brought him inside a mall,
when he had just escaped from the streets.
  What was definitely strange, were the amount of people lying on the
floor, seeming... drained, somehow.
  And the eight-foot tall monster with the really sharp claws that was
moving around the place laughing as people collapsed around it.  It
was standing in a similar place relative to Ian that the boomer had
been.  /Oh, so instead of sending me to similar surroundings, it
bloody well sends me to similar circumstances..../  And this time,
there were no Knight Sabers.
  Without thinking twice, Ian started to back slowly away from it,
hoping it wouldn't notice him.
  He was out of luck.  It spun to face him the moment he moved.
  Almost out of instinct, Ian whipped out his pistol, aiming in the
monster's general direction and succeeded in blasting it several times
in the chest.  The barrage seemed to cause it immense pain, but to
Ian's dismay, it was still moving when the pistol decharged.
  /Aw man..../  Ian hurriedly leapt behind a potted plant as the
monster started to flick energy bolts at _him_.  He set to work,
feverishly rifling through his belongings searching for....
  Ian sprawled on the floor as one of the bolts exploded near his
back.  Fortunately, the pot plant had absorbed the main brunt of the
blast, but Ian realised now that perhaps more solid cover would be
marginally safer.  He dove behind a bench, narrowly missing being
fried a second time.
  He finally retrieved the portable generator - a small humming cube-
like device - which he then proceeded to connect to the pistol's
handle.  There was a click and a hum as the two connected.
  Meanwhile, he was vaguely aware of the monster stalking him from the
other side of the stall he had now chosen as his new piece of cover.
Hearing a droning sound slowly rising in pitch, Ian sped to the next
possible shelter as the stall was vaporised by another energy bolt.
  /Come on, come on!/ he thought urgently to the generator, hoping
that his willpower would somehow speed up the process.  He was
rewarded by a short series of beeps, signalling the end of the
recharge.  Not even bothering to disconnect the generator, Ian doubled
back, ready to face his adversary.
  He dodged out of cover just in time to see that others had at last
responded to the threat.  Five teenage girls, to be precise.  The
_young_ half of teenage.  There was something familiar about them,
that tugged at Ian's mind.  He shook it off and started to run towards
the monster, gun upraised.  The monster hadn't noticed them yet; it
was still concentrating solely on Ian, a fact that was evident from
the increasing number of energy projectiles that was heading his way.
Trying not to think about what his agility was like most of the time,
Ian continued to dodge the bolts, hoping to survive long enough to get
a hit in.  What did those girls think they were doing anyway?  At this
rate, they were going to get themselves killed not knowing when to run
and when to....
  "JUPITER POWER, MAKE UP!"
  /Huh?/
  "MERCURY POWER, MAKE UP!"
  The girls all had something held up high above their head, and they
were each shouting something different.  The monster half-turned to
look at them, pausing its assault on Ian.  A couple of laser bolts to
the side of its head brought it snarling back to face the student....
  "VENUS POWER, MAKE UP!"
  As they each finished their own sentence, blinding light coalesced
around them, and they became hidden from Ian's view....
  "MARS POWER, MAKE UP!"
  Now, only one of the girls was left.  She had a _very_ distinctive
hairstyle.  Two balls of hair with a long ponytail dangling down from
each.  It made him think of... of... /Meatballs.  Like meatballs./
Now where had _that_ come from?
  The last girl held some kind of pendant over her head, and shouted:
  "MOON PRISM POWER, MAKE UP!"

  As the light cleared, Ian found himself watching on the sidelines.
The girls had changed, that much was definite.  Each of them were now
wearing some sort of superhero costume; almost like a sailor's uniform
with a short skirt, complete with white gloves and high heels.  /A
sailor fuku,/ his mind helpfully came up with.  Where had he heard
that before?  Fortunately, the monster was no longer paying him any
attention.  It spun to face the newcomers.
  The one he had recognised with the distinctive hairstyle pointed at
the monster with a scowl on her face.  "Even though shopping can be a
chore, it is a neccessary part of life, and often pleasurable.  To
interfere with it in such a way is unforgivable.  For love and
justice, we are the beautiful Sailor Senshi!  In the name of the
moon...."
  "...and the planets Jupiter..." interrupted the tall, pony-tailed
girl, who seemed rather tomboyish; almost looking forward to the
fight.
  "...Mercury..." continued the shorter, girl with an almost bluish
tint to her short dark hair.
  "...Venus..." said the blonde-haired senshi, arguably the prettiest
of the five; at least, Ian thought so.  He felt sure the girls
themselves would have other ideas.
  "...and Mars..." picked up the one with long, black hair; Ian would
have sworn she was rolling her eyes.  As for appearance, she looked an
awful lot like the blonde-haired girl before her; maybe they were
sisters?
  "...we will punish you," finished the meatball-haired girl, who
unlike the previous girl, seemed deadly serious about the speech.
  Suddenly, he stopped.  His eyes widened slightly as he realised
something.  Sailor fuku.  Meatballs.  Senshi.  It all fit.  Ian
realised just who it was who had replaced the Knight Sabers in this
book.
  "Oh no," Ian muttered under his breath.
  The speeches finished, the senshi charged the monster.  Most of the
fighting appeared to be just energy attacks; none of the girls seemed
willing to close for hand-to-hand which, considering the size of the
monster, was just as well.
  "CRESCENT BEAM!"
  Long ago, back before all this business with the bookshop had ever
happened, back when the worst Ian had to worry about was homework
being in late, Ian had been `introduced' to Japanese anime by a friend
of his.  One of them had been a dubbed series named "Sailor Moon".
  "SHABON SPRAY!"
  "Oh god, oh man, oh shit...."
  Ian, personally, couldn't stand it.  The closest thing he had to
compare it with was an American TV programme called "Mighty Morphin'
Power Rangers", a show so corny and stupid that it didn't even merit
watching for the idiotic monsters.  The plot of each episode of MMPR
was identical to every other one.  New monster goes around causing
chaos.  Power Rangers go and trounce new monster.  Evil megalomaniac
sorceress controlling operation causes new monster to grow to Godzilla
height.  Power Rangers call their dinosaur inspired mechanoids and
trounce Godzilla-size new monster.  Admittedly, they didn't then all
go back home and have a round of ginger beer, but the last five
minutes of each episode appeared to be devoted to learning some kind
of moral.  Apparently, the show had done really well in the States.
  "THUNDER CRASH!"        
  "No, no, no, no, no!"  Ian continued his litany, panic setting in at
the edges of his voice, which had been steadily rising in both pitch
and volume.
  Of course, there was no way he could be in the dubbed version.  That
was a TV programme.  However, his friend had said that the original
Sailor Moon had been Japanese manga....
  He was stuck for twenty-four hours in the middle of a book he
neither liked nor cared about.  A little girl's book.  He believed
`kawaii' was the word his friend had described it.  Japanese for
"cute".  And that it was.  Ian could almost puke.
  "FIRE SOUL!"
  He was in their reality now.  He was bound by their laws of physics
and their way of doing things.  He was, to all intents and purposes,
trapped.
  "MOON TIARA ACTION!"
  The battle had been raging for well over a couple of minutes, and
sadly, it looked like the other buildings had borne most of the
attacks.  However, the fight was now coming to an end.  And with that
final cry, a tiara whistled through the air from the meatball-haired
girl's hand, and crashed into the badly wounded monster.  With a mixed
cry of rage and pain, it collapsed into dust.  The golden tiara
continued to spin through the air in a smooth parabola, before
returning back to the girl.
  The scene brought reality screaming back to Ian with a crash.  There
was no denying it now.  He knew exactly where he was, and exactly what
he thought of it.
  "Yatta," cried Sailor Moon in exultation.
  "NO!" cried Ian in despair.
  `Saved' by a bunch of fourteen year-old girls in abbreviated sailor
suits.  Things just couldn't get worse.

  --**************--

  CHAPTER 5 - Jumping Over The Moon

  There are many facts of life.  Some of these are particularly
strange facts, and some are only based on superstition or hearsay, but
there appears to be truth in most of them.  Like, whenever you plan a
picnic, the skies cloud over.  Or when you get a plumber around, they
can never make it today, it's always "next week, maybe the week
after".  It is often said, that fact is stranger than fiction.  This
is very true.
  One group of facts are known vaguely as Murphy's Laws.  However, one
of his laws sums up the whole group quite succinctly, and was known
more famously as Murphy's or Sod's law.  It goes like this: "Anything
that _can_ go wrong, _will_ go wrong."
  Fiction is riddled with such key phrases, where the hero suddenly
says something like: "That was too easy," or "_This_ is a heavily
guarded fortress?" or some other boastful sentence like that.  And
then storms of monsters rush in, surprising the said hero.  You _know_
what's going to happen as soon as they say it.  And so, it becomes a
fact.  A fact of fiction, if you will.
  Whenever someone thinks or says that "Things just couldn't get
worse," the universe has a way of rearranging things so that they do.
This is a well-known fact, and has led various cultures to come up
with superstitious phrases designed to protect people from the
consequences of this fact; such as "touch wood", for example.  Ian has
promised many times to give up intoning the former of the two phrases
mentioned, but old habits, bad or good, do die hard.
  The universe isn't fussy about _when_ it gets people back.  Just as
long as they _are_ got back.
  In Ian's case however, the universe usually makes an exception.
  Improbability fields have nothing on what the universe sometimes
does to get Ian Robinson back.

  --**************--

  Ian came back to his, admittedly ragged, senses to find all five
girls looking at him.  He wondered why.  He ran his still recovering
mind over the last few minutes to find out the reason.  Unfortunately,
he was trying to get over his preliminary shock over the current
events, so he wasn't as quick as he usually was.
  /Fighting the monster futilely... no, there _are_ some people stupid
enough to do that other than me.  Firing off lasers in a modern day
world... nah, they'd never think it was anything than another gun.  I
hope.  Besides, it doesn't shine a candle next to their powers.
Watching them transform... uh... um... they _might_ have noticed
it..../  Ian glanced at them.  /Of course, they were rather focused on
the monster at the time..../
  /Sticking around in the vicinity of a crazed monster... uh-uh, as
before, there are people stupid enough to stick around and watch
fights like this.  Screaming "No" just after they whipped the
monster's ass... nope, that couldn't..../  He stopped, and went over
that thought again, more carefully this time so his mind could cope.
  /Uh oh./
  Ever so carefully, hoping not to break any stalemate that might be
in force, he put his gun away, disconnecting the generator as he did
so.  He thought he could hear the senshi whispering fiercly to each
other, as he placed the cube-like device in one of his outside jacket
pockets.  He turned, a little faster than he really wanted to, and
started making for the nearest exit.  The words "Dark Kingdom" and
"Youma" drifted to him from the girls, as well as the strange paranoid
feeling of furtive glances being directed at him.  He started walking
faster.  Not running, at least, not yet.  He'd learnt that lesson the
hard way; running brings attention.  He remembered reading a very good
book that had something about that.  Something about the time to run
was when someone said....
  "Hey, you!"
  /Oh yeah, that was it./
  Ian ran.

  --**************--

  The ancient art of harakei is quite a mysterious one.  It is a very
useful and valuable technique, if learned, but also very difficult to
master.
  Harakei is basically the ability to know whether an attack or ambush
is imminent, and generally allows the gifted person to sense other
people.  It is often labelled as a sixth or seventh sense, and the
technique is usually incorporated in the teachings of many ancient
martial arts.  The process of learning it is very hard; the actual
techniques (as opposed to the preliminaries, which involve learning
whether an unseen person wishes to watch, hurt or help you,) begin
with sending the blindfolded student into a room full of obstacles.
Every time they pass through it, the room is rearranged, and once they
can get through it a number of times without hitting anything, the
process is begun again, except this time, their ears are stopped as
well.  After they complete it with those restrictions, the nose is
stopped.  And then they introduce other people.  Then it escalates to
hand-to-hand fighting, (without the handicaps, naturally,) finally
finishing with real weapons when the student is on the verge of
graduation.  One can see how difficult it would be to master.
  Ian is just an ordinary university student.  At least, he _was_.  He
never wanted to know how to fight, how to run, how to shoot and how to
hide.  He doesn't really know what harakei is; he's never even heard
of it.
  It is possible, just possible though, that the constant danger over
the last eight months has imprinted on him a sense of harakei.  It
_may_ not have been luck that has got him through all these scrapes;
it is almost possible that he has actually _learnt_ the various
guerilla techniques he has needed to survive.

  "MOON TIARA ACTION!"
  Fortunately, this time the tiara flew in a non-lethal trajectory,
smoothly intercepting Ian's legs and managing to successfully trip him
up.  He hit the ground heavily, and had the wind knocked out of him.

  Then again, maybe it _has_ just been luck all the time.
                                                  
  --**************--

  Breathing heavily, Ian struggled to get up and catch his breath at
the same time.  He found he couldn't do both at the same time; a
whimper from his muscles confirmed that point.  High-heeled footsteps
behind him confirmed Ian on his own point, which was to tell his
muscles to get knotted, and stand up anyway.  He tried again to run
out of the mall, but succeeded in only a stagger; apparently his body
wasn't about to forgive him yet.
  By then, it was too late.  The meatball-haired girl - /Sailor Moon,/
thought Ian through the mental equivalent of clenched teeth - placed
herself directly in front of him, hands on hips and feet spread in a
defiant pose.
  "Where do you think you're going, running off like that?" she said,
trying for an authorative tone of voice.  She very nearly pulled it
off.
  Ian considered his options as quickly as he could.  /I could try for
the short but sweet approach..../  Abruptly, that idea brought the
word `kawaii' to mind, causing him to drop it like a hot potato, or
perhaps more like a live hand grenade.  It helped that he wasn't
exactly sure what that approach would have entailed anyway.  /How
about playing it dumb... maybe..../
  Sailor Moon started to tap her foot impatiently.
  "Uh," started Ian, "I'm going outside."
  The dark-haired girl moved herself inside his view, slightly
interspersing herself between the two.  Sailor Moon looked a little
agitated at this obvious interruption, but kept her display of
annoyance down to a glare at her sister-in-arms.  Unlike Sailor Moon
though, the red-suited senshi demonstrated the authorative look with
an ease that you normally wouldn't associate with a 14 year old.  "Why
are you so scared around us?  We just saved your butt back there," she
stated, with a tinge of bitterness and an underlying accusatory tone.
  "Um, er," Ian stuttered, trying to think of an answer that would
convince them to go away and leave him alone, thank you very much.
  He was saved from answering the rest of their questions, and talking
himself into a deeper level of excretement, as a groan was heard from
behind him.  Apparently, the people the monster had drained were just
waking up.  The sailors were briefly distracted, looking past at them
rather than at him.
  Ian leaped at the chance, having had enough time to gain his second
wind.  "Uh, nicetalkingtoya, gottarun, bye," he said in a rush,
darting through the girls, and shoulder-barging the exit open.  Ian
had one of the best acceleration rates in the world, and within a
flash, he was gone.

  "Idiot.  Letting him get away like that."
  "What?!  You were the one not looking!"
  "_Me_ not looking?  You could have been blind, for all the
difference it would have made!"
  "Yeah?  Like you stopped him!"
  "Klutz!"
  "Meanie!"
  Two tongues shot out, as the two girls pulled faces at one another.
The rest of the senshi just shook their heads in disbelief.

  --**************--

  Ian stood at a corner just a few streets away from the shopping
precinct, leaning one hand on a nearby wall to keep him from
collapsing.  His chest was heaving, trying to regain the breath he'd
expended during his escape.
  The simple truth was, he was exhausted.  Completely.  The effects of
the adrenaline were wearing off now that he was no longer in immediate
danger, and he hadn't had a decent night's sleep since....  He
realised where that line of thought was going, and quashed it
immediately.  He was in enough trouble already without him tempting
fate for the ten-thousandth time.  What he really needed at this
point, was either a roof and a bed, or....
  The smell reached him first, reviving him almost completely.  Almost
in a trance like state, he eagerly crossed the road - causing many
drivers to brake suddenly, and a stream of curses to be thrown at
him - and ended up outside a certain building.  _That_ was where the
aroma was coming from.
  His backpack came over his shoulder and landed right in front of
him.  He rummaged through it with an uncommon vigour, looking for....
He smiled as he retrieved a 1000 yen note from a waterproof plastic
container, the money being one of the few souvenirs he had from
Nerima.  Without hesitation, he barged into the building, and placed
himself on a seat by the counter.
  The woman behind it looked at him, or rather the state of his
attire, in astonishment, but Ian gave her no chance to respond.  He
placed the note carefully in front of her, and said, half in a
daydream, "One coffee, please."
  The waitress turned and picked up a mug.  She got as far as the
coffee machine when Ian cleared his throat.
  "I meant a pot," he continued, stopping her in her tracks.  "Black,
please."

  --**************--

  In a different place altogether, a place called the Dark Kingdom,
there is a throne room.  It is not known why it is called the Dark
Kingdom - even those who lived there had embraced that name - but that
is what it was called.
  In this throne room, there was a throne.  It makes sense; you find
chokeapples under a chokeapple tree, you find thrones in throne rooms.
Logic.
  The throne itself wasn't a large one.  In fact, it was human sized;
which is rather unusual since most supreme evil entities are usually
about 30 feet tall with bad tempers and a need for total domination.
  In Beryl's case, two out of three wasn't bad.
  Queen Beryl, ruler of the Dark Kingdom, was sitting on her throne.
She was admittedly quite beautiful, but in an evil sort of way.  Just
looking at her made people think of a Black Widow.  There is a saying
that goes "Beauty is only skin deep."  However, the phrase "rotten to
the core" would probably be more accurate in Beryl's condition.
  In front of the queen, bowing before her, was a young man dressed in
a gray uniform.  He was well built, and although his shoulder-length
hair was pale white, he looked to be in his mid twenties.  He was, of
course, a far older entity, in spite of his appearance.  For he was
one of the four generals who served Beryl.
  At least, there _used_ to be four.  Beryl didn't have much patience
for failure.  And thanks to the Sailor Senshi, there'd been a lot of
that.
  However, this meeting wasn't about the Sailor Senshi.  It was about
energy; something the Dark Kingdom needed a lot of.
  "And you say you've discovered a new source of energy?" asked the
Queen.  Once again, the voice was quite lovely, a complete contrast to
her... uh... personality.
  "Yes, my Queen," answered the general, as he straightened up.
"Although it was momentary, it was quite different in nature to any
other I have felt on Earth."
  "Yes," Beryl mused, "I felt something myself."  She turned her
visage back upon the general, eyes boring into him.  However, he was
used to this, and didn't flinch.
  "Kunzite," she continued, "what are your findings on this new
source?"
  "I felt it come from the building my youma attacked.  I am not sure
how or why the energy was released, but shortly afterwards, the Sailor
Senshi confronted the youma.  I was unable to withdraw it for
questioning before it was destroyed."
  "Which reminds me."  The Queen smiled, causing Kunzite to groan
inwardly as he realised what was coming next.  "I take it then your
mission was a success?"
  "A success, my Queen?" asked Kunzite uneasily.
  "I assume the youma you sent was meant to be defeated by the Sailor
Senshi, yes?"
  "Uh, no, not exactly."  If Kunzite hadn't been as experienced as he
was, he would have been tugging at his collar.  Revenge had proven
rather difficult to achieve.
  "So, things didn't exactly go to plan?"  Beryl's eyebrows went up in
surprise.  /But of course, she isn't surprised,/ thought Kunzite.
/She's just going through all this to torture me./  Once again,
Kunzite was astonished at exactly how well it worked.  Beryl had
become slightly more lenient with the death threats lately, having
only one general left to count on.  In turn, though, she made these
debriefings all the more scathing.  In another book entirely, there is
a saying: "Wounds to the pride are remembered long after wounds to the
flesh."  It seemed to have found truth on this occasion.
  "I trust you have made arrangements to make up for your failure?"
she continued in that mocking tone she had adopted.
  "Ah, yes, my Queen.  I shall begin looking in to that new source of
energy at once."
  Beryl smiled at that.  "Good.  You impress me, Kunzite, with your
quick thinking.  I hope you will not disappoint me again."
  /Irony,/ thought Kunzite with despair.  /I think I liked it better
when she was more open with the threats./  "Yes, my Queen."  He bowed
at his mistress, and then disappeared into the darkness.
  A figure stepped away from the shadows, and stood before Beryl.
"What about the Senshi?" he asked.
  "Metallia believes that this new power may be enough to revive her.
Of course, should Kunzite's plans fail, we will still need the
ginzuishou."
  Endymion bowed.  "Very well then.  I shall continue my efforts to
retrieve it."  He walked away into the shadows, and vanished from
view.
  Queen Beryl sat there, relatively alone, except of course for the
hordes of minions who chanted their devotion mindlessly at the edges
of the throne room.           
  She became vaguely aware of someone other than the multitude of
servants in the chamber.  "Who goes there?" she cried in a commanding
tone.
  A shadow manifested itself before her.  Although it was hard to
tell, it bowed towards her, before speaking.  And when it did so, the
voice was low and wavering; the voice completely unidentifiable.  "I
assume you are Queen Beryl."
  Beryl scowled at this impertinence.  Who was this who did not know
who she was?  "Speak, insolent dog, before I tire of your presence."
  "I was wondering if perhaps you would require my assistance?"
  "Assistance?"  The Queen smirked at that.  "Why would I need _your_
assistance?"
  If anything, the shadow seemed even more unimpressed than before.
"Do not mock me, Beryl.  You are fighting a losing battle.  However, I
may be able to tip the balance for you.  Of course, my aid would come
at a price."
  Queen Beryl fought hard to control herself, but could not stop the
bouts of hysterics.  "Begone!  Since you have amused me, I shall allow
you to go freely.  I will not forget this joke in a hurry!"
  Instead of protesting, the shadow simply nodded, and then faded
away, leaving the chamber echoing with Beryl's mocking laughter.
  However, as the shadow left, a final sentence, almost unheard over
the noise, reached her ears: "Maybe you will find that time will
diminish your complacent behaivour.  I will see you again soon."
  Beryl did not care; who had the audacity to offer their help at a
price?  The mere thought of it was going to keep her giggling for
months on end.
  Losing battle.  What a joke!

  --**************--


  End Chapter 5

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PS. Note, I've put the address you should reply
to (i.e. not this one) at the top of this part as
well.