Past Reflections

Prolouge

By:Lazuli

<lazulidreamer@yahoo.com>

Disclaimer--this story is my property. The characters contained herein are not my original creation, but

twisted to my mind's path. @__@ Naoko Takeuchi is the original owner of Sailor Moon.

Tokyo, Japan

Circa 2001

Mamoru leaned back on his bed, relieved that he was finally finished unpacking. He was now settled into his home, a place away from the orphanage he spent his life in. Examining his room with satisfaction, he was pleased to note that he managed to retain so much of his little known past here. The cap he had been wearing during the accident, with his name stitched on the brim. The only photograph that he had of his family was in a frame, propped up close to his bed. He sighed wistfully as he picked up the much-handled picture once more. This was the only proof that he had a family at one point. That he wasn't always alone in the world.

He couldn't rely on his own memories. That was the part that haunted him the most. Not to remember this family that died on a simple trip. Not to honor their memory properly. Perhaps that was why he was so obsessed with the past. With anybody's past that lay forgotten in the folds of history. A fleeting name inscribed here or there. He wished that he could find all those who played a part in history,

made a difference in someone's life, but was not recognized for it.

His gaze traveled to the antique mirror in his room. Such a simply carved item, yet there was a mystery of ownership attached to this as well. Tucked behind the mirror, between the glass and the backing.

A picture of a young girl, her pale hair held away from her face in two long braids was staring solemnly at the camera. She was dressed in a dark dress, and her eyes seemed to hold some deep sorrow, as if she had been through too much in her young life.

He had tucked the picture in the corner of the mirror, as it had surely had stood so many years ago. He couldn't fathom why he kept it. He knew that he could not discard this picture so easily. It would be like denying that the girl had ever existed for anything. To throw away her likeness would be like throwing away any idea that she had been alive. He shook his head. He could never do that. He vowed to find out who the girl was.

Jena, Germany

1943

Serene stared into her mirror intently, trying to collect her long strands of hair into a tidy braid.

It was almost an impossible task, but she couldn't go out to the village looking as if she had been running wild in the fields! There was already enough talk about her living alone without adding to it.

She bit her lip, wondering at what new heights the rumors had reached. All it would take was one false word. One accusation that would reach the wrong ears and her whole world would crumble around her.

All her hard work in ruins. So, the acting began. All her skills put forth to hide what her real work in life was.

Ever since her parents had been taken away for crimes against the government, she had managed to stay and help. To try and undermine the government in every way possible, even if it was just smuggling a note across the wire, or dropping a pair of shoes in the grass. Even those messages of hope helped with the masses that were downtrodden by the German government. She would not be a part of what so many feared.

She held the white ribbon in her trembling hands, wondering if she dared tie it around her braid. For all she knew, the Gestapo knew that it was a symbol of those who fought with the Resistance. She had to take the risk, though. She couldn't fight the battle alone much longer. There had to be another connection that she could link to, some strength outside her own that she could lean on. Shaking her head, she was ashamed that she was acting so selfish while so many suffered.

She tied the ribbon with no more wayward thoughts, and gathered up her basket for the market day. She need not tell any of the occupants of her home that she was leaving. By now, they knew her routine. They knew what time she would leave, and what time she would be back. Any stray sounds in between those times they would know that they were to be at their quietest. No sounds to betray them or her. She closed her eyes and prayed that all would be well, and another day would pass without any mishaps.

She walked into town, amidst chattering voices, and her stomach turned. Somehow she knew, by the tone of their voices, their eager talk, that something monumental had occurred.

"Did you hear? They were caught! Stupid move, I tell you, but I think they are all crazy, trying to overthrow the government by those simple words."

Serene's heart clenched. Could they mean... she remembered the leaflets that had been passed around for the last year. Words that had spoken the truth about the government, lending some tiny flame of hope to the populace that one was so brave to mock the man that owned this country.

"They were caught dumping the paper! How clumsy! Still, they were brave while they were alive." This word was spoken in a hushed voice, a cat held tightly in his arms. The pale ribbons around the animal's neck fluttered gently in the breeze, and Serene knew that this person was at least sympathetic.

Something in her tone of voice, the way her eyes almost betrayed her for those they were looking for it.

She turned her own eyes away lest they betray her. She had to gather food, and silently mourn the death of the ones that were so brave in such a bleak time. It was those that gave the ones she protected hope. It was they who showed them what the real world was outside of their small hiding place. Tossed from place to place... her throat closed up. Now was not the time! Why was she acting all sentimental now? Acting as if all hope was gone?

Tokyo, Japan

Circa 2001

Mamoru rushed to class, hoping that he wouldn't be late for his first day. It would be embarrassing. He ran a hand through his hair as he caught site of the door, and casually walked through the door. He had five minutes to spare. To his intense relief, the room was hardly half filled, and he had plenty of time to walk down to the front of the room. This was one of the main "extra" classes that he wanted. A special history class that focused on the era of World War Two. It was more of an extra curricular activity, but he didn't mind. He wanted to learn. He surmised by studying the girl's picture that she was from around that time. He knew he was acting like an obsessed man, but he wanted to find out the past of her if he could. He wanted

to find out the past of so many others that history left behind. At least this class would focus only on that shameful time in history.

He focused intently on the professor standing at the front of the board, anticipating what they would learn. Perhaps, somehow, he would finally gain some of the knowledge of the hidden past that he was seeking.

"Good morning, class. I am Professor Schiler. I am glad to see that there are a few people here who wish to learn about the Second World War, and it's impact throughout the nations. Unlike your history classes in high school, we will focus on a non-biased point of view. Meaning we will not glorify Japan's role in the war, nor will we forgo it. Each country had their part to play, and individuals in that country played a part. I expect everyone to listen, and pay attention to what we will be learning in this course. No one shall be overlooked.

Each is equally important."

Mamoru nodded to himself, agreeing with this vibrant individual. The professor seemed to be in her late sixties, but the brightness of her eyes seemed to declare her passion of the subject that she was about to teach.

"We are also going to skip around with the history, not starting at the beginning, nor starting at the end. We are going to start in the middle. Welcome to the year 1943. The country is Germany, and a group had just innocently died for the crime of stating the truth..."

Ref--

The party I speak of with the leaflets are the "White Rose"