The real meditation is... the meditation on one's identity. Ah,
voilà une chose!! You try it. You try finding out why you're
you and not somebody else. And who in the blazes are you anyhow?
Ah, voilà une chose!
Ezra Pound
*********************
Sometimes I wonder . . .
"Ami, would you please do problem number five at the
blackboard?"
The other students groan as I approach the board. The
teacher hears them, but decides not to say anything. It is, after
all, their ritual.
"Be sure to show your work, Ami. I know sometimes you like
to keep your best thoughts to yourself."
I very deliberately form the numbers of the equation.
Numbers, numbers. Nothing but numbers these days. I copy them off
my homework almost unconsciously. I turn around in anticipation.
"Hmmmm . . . that's fairly close, Ami, but you've forgotten
several important steps. For example, you only add exponents in this
case when they have a common base. Inazaki, would you care to finish
Ami's problem?" He smiles as he goes to the board with the knowledge
that he *does* have the correct answer.
I return to my seat, surprised. I actually did better on
that one than I thought I would have. I suppose I'm going to have to
treat my mathematics study time a little more seriously, like father
says.
* * * * *
"Let's see . . ." my blonde friend mutters as she examines
the latest test posting. "Hmmm, I seem to be stuck at the bottom.
No surprise there. Do you see your name yet?"
"I've already found it," the tall brunette behind me
interjects. "There it is, 'Mizuno Ami,' ranked 51 of 173."
The blonde turns around, almost incredulously. "Fifty-one?
Fifty-one?" She smiles. "Goodness, Ami, have you been secretly
going to some cram school or something? That's fantastic!"
"Yeah," the brunette begins, "at this rate you're going to
overtake me in a matter of weeks."
Perhaps even sooner, I thought to myself. While she's
probably smarter than all of us, she often ignores her own work to
help us study. I wonder if any friend elsewhere would do something
like that.
The blonde giggles. "You're doing all of this to impress
Kyosuke, aren't you, Ami? Don't lie, it's written all over your
face."
"And her notebook too," the brunette slyly throws in. "All
you've got to do is look."
I blush. That's always been a particular problem of mine.
No sense denying it now, as my own particular form of truth barometer
is known by my friends as very accurate.
"It's nothing to be ashamed about, Ami. Are you going to
miss him when we go on our class trip tomorrow? Are you? Are
you?"
Now that was a silly question, but nothing too unexpected
from this person. I give her my most benign look of annoyance and
respond:
"Yeah, I guess I will. I'll miss my family a lot too.
I've never been so far away from them."
"And while we're on the subject of your family, Ami," the
tall one adds, "tell Motoyuki to quit wooing and hitting on me every
time I visit you. I don't see how you live with that little brother
of yours sometimes."
We all share a laugh. She's right, of course. I'll have
to do something about that. But it's just *so* cute to watch him
pursue a girl two years and ten inches his superior.
It's good to have friends. It's good to have had friends
from first grade and keep them through life. I'm a lucky person.
* * * * *
"That's exactly what she said, Motoyuki. Back off."
"But Ami, she's the perfect woman. How do you expect me to
drop something like that?"
"You're fourteen years old, Motoyuki. How would you know
that she's perfect for you?"
"Ami's right, Motoyuki. Don't worry, give the girl a
couple more years and maybe she'll come to her senses." Father
always had a way of supporting my position and then naughtily
undercutting it. Today appeared to be no different, as he chuckled
from across the dinner table.
"You're not helping any, dear." I think that mother
secretly relished her role as the straight man to my father's comedic
tendencies. I would have thought that it would have been the other
way around; after all, it was father who held the high-stress job at
the investment firm. Sometimes the roles that life plays out are
almost humorously different than what you believed them to be.
"When can I get married?" The faint voice through a pile
of uneaten broccoli at the end of the table brought a warm feeling to
the room. Little Yoshino had only started school six months ago, but
she was growing in leaps and bounds. I think the tear that my mother
had been hiding lately was partially brought about by the fact that
my little sister looked exactly like I did at that age.
"Oh, I think we'd better wait a while for that," father
smiles. "Having one of my girls out of the house is already causing
me to worry."
"I'm only going to be gone for three days, father," I
groan. I know he's only concerned, but his protectiveness does
manage to embarrass me sometimes. "And I *am* sixteen years old."
"We tend to forget sometimes, that's one of our little
limitations of being parents," mother adds with a sad grin. "We know
you'll be okay, but it's just that we like to keep thinking of you as
our little girl, like Yoshino is now. I hope you'll forgive us, we
didn't mean to darken your big day any."
"Oh. you didn't. I suppose I think that way as well
sometimes."
"Hmmph," my brother interjects. "I wish you'd do less
thinking about that and more thinking on how I'm going to get her to
come to my birthday party next week."
"Didn't you hear a word we just said, Motoyuki? You *are*
incorrigible, just like she said."
"She did? She said that about me? Great! She noticed!
That means handsome or something, right?"
"Yeah, something like that . . ." I finish. We all laugh,
except for Yoshino, who used the distraction of the humor to quickly
throw some of her broccoli under the table to the family cat.
* * * * *
"Tokyo's a really exciting place. I think you'll enjoy it,
Ami."
"Yeah, but . . ."
"No buts, now." He placed his finger on her lips. "I know
what you're thinking, and I don't want you to feel guilty over this.
You *deserve* this trip."
"It's not all that Kyosuke . . . I was just thinking,
you'll be going to university in Tokyo next year, right?"
"Hmmmm, maybe. I haven't made any final decisions
yet."
"It's just kind of funny: for the next few days, I'll be
there and you'll be here, and then later, I'll be here and you'll be
there. It sort of makes me miss you already."
"Ami, you worry too much. But if it will make your trip go
a little easier, I will let you know that as of late I have been
leaning toward the local university more than any of the others."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up innocently.
"Well, don't tell my father though. He sort of wants me to
go to the University of Tokyo like he did, but I know he'll never say
anything if I don't. And besides, since he's at the office so long
anymore, I think someone should be around to look after my little
sister. Plus, the local university is almost as highly ranked in a
few of the fields I was considering. And, of course, there's the
small matter of seeing your lovely face every day."
"Small matter?" she looked up, smiling. "Kyosuke, whatever
you do, please don't do something like that on my account."
"Trust me, Ami. No one wants this more than I do, so you
just get on that train tomorrow with your friends, go to Tokyo, enjoy
the sights and shopping, and come back with a smile on your face.
I'll be waiting for you."
"I know." She rested her head on his shoulder.
* * * * *
"Well, I don't know about you, but I know what *I'm* going
to do when we get to Tokyo."
"And what's that?" my black-haired friend asked the blonde
in a curiously annoyed tone.
"I'm going to go to the observation deck on Tokyo Tower and
make a wish to find my true love. My parents . . ."
"Yes, we all know how your parents met on the tower and
fell in love at first sight. But that doesn't mean that you
will."
"Just don't give up," I tell the blonde. I try to cheer
her up when I can. She's always such a romantic sort.
"Yeah," the brunette adds, "you'll find your true love one
day, just like Ami. But how do you expect to do it if you're still
packing your bags?"
We all laughed. Even though we were waiting with the rest
of our class at the station for the train to Tokyo, she was still
adjusting and readjusting her luggage. She's not what you would call
the organized type.
"What are you going to do when you arrive in Tokyo,
Ami?"
"Not that much," I look down. "Probably take in the Ginza
with the rest of the class. I'd sort of like to get a peek of the
grounds around the Imperial Palace. Sometimes when I was a little
girl I'd look at pictures of the gardens and pretend I was a
princess, like in a fairy tale or something."
"Speaking of fairy tales, check that out," the brunette
indicated the large television screen within the rail station. It
was tuned to the national news.
"They sure get enough press, don't they? Even here."
Another home video of the Sailor Senshi. Whoever taped it
must not have gotten there until whatever villain or monster they
were fighting had been defeated. It just showed them standing there
at a distance, in the aftermath, talking and smiling, except for
Sailor Mars, who was waving her finger at Sailor Moon, almost like
she was scolding her.
"If given the chance, I think I'd like to be Sailor
Jupiter," my brunette friend chuckles, almost daydreaming.
"Why Ayumi, how surprising. Even though you do sort of
look like her, from what I've read, she's something of a brawler, and
you certainly don't fit that type. I doubt you could defeat a
cricket."
"Unlike you, Katsuko?" she throws back to the black-haired
girl. "I suppose you want to be Sailor Mars since you seem to have a
propensity for those red fuku and heels. Yeah, I think that would
fit you just fine . . ."
While they began their daily mock argument my blonde friend
slowly approached, noticing that I was staring at the screen.
"Who would you be, Ami? I mean, if . . ."
I laugh. "Oh I don't know, Chiharu. I suppose all of them
lead fairly interesting lives. Look at Sailor Mercury there,
however. Do you ever notice how she's always got that serene and
contented look? I like that, and I don't think it has anything to do
with her being a Sailor Senshi. I think it's deeper. I suppose I'd
be her if I had to, but given a choice, I think I'd rather remain
here with my friends and family. After all, who's going to help you
pack your bag?"
"Ami . . .," she began, surprised by my response.
Realizing that she was at a loss for words, she laughed and tried to
brighten my spirits before we stepped on the train, which had just
arrived at the station. "Ami, I would have guessed that you would
have said Sailor Venus, since your blonde hair looks almost exactly
like hers. Change your purple ribbon for a red one and you're almost
her twin. Do you think we'll see them while we're there?"
"I think the best question is, whether they're going to see
*us* since we're the ones who are going to be taking the town by
storm." Katsuko always had a way of lightening the situation.
"Let's go and find out," I say. "Tokyo's waiting, and it's
time to expand our horizons . . ."
"And find a boyfriend!" Chiharu throws in.
"And find a boyfriend . . ." Katsuko and Ayumi sighed in
unison.
"And find a boyfriend for you three," I laughingly
completed the sequence as I stepped onto the train.
I bet Sailor Mercury doesn't have these problems . . .
* * * * *
My name is Mizuno Ami, and I am a first-year student at
Oshikawa High in the Ikuta section of Kobe. My father is in public
relations at a local investment house and my mother is a housewife.
I have one brother and one sister, both younger than I am. I have
had a wonderful boyfriend for two years now. My favorite subject is
literature. I am not too good at math, but I try.
Sometimes I wonder how the other half lives. I wonder
whether there is such a thing as a fairy tale life, with heroes and
princesses and eternal love and friendship. I wonder whether destiny
places us in our roles or if it was rather a stroke of luck off of
some deity's fleeting thought. I wonder if there is something more
to our ordinary lives other than what we've been taught to believe is
"ordinary."
And then I remember that I don't have to wonder.
I'm living my life as I am.
- - - - x - - - -
****************************************************
Author's Notes:
This is my Ami story, and I'm sticking by it.
Sailor Moon and associated characters are the intellectual
property of Takeuchi Naoko and/or Toei, DiC, Bandai, Kodansha and a
host of other ethereal corporate entities.
One of the first things I did when I first used the internet was
searching for people who had the same name as I. I found that I
shared a name with both a world-famous yacht racer and an accused
murderer in New England. This story is inspired from the thinking
that followed that discovery.
All comments, questions, anecdotes, stock tips, can be sent
to:
gradient@thedoghousemail.com
or visit my homepage to see my theory about Sailor Moon (one day,
maybe my poor counter will break the double-digit barrier):
http://members.tripod.com/gradient
I really do enjoy getting mail and am happy to answer all
questions about the story.
Thank you for your time. Two stories remaining . . .
"The Other Half" +Gradient August 1998
********************************************************************
I yam what I am an' tha's all what I yam.
-- Popeye the Sailor Man
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