Andrew Slayn
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Chapter 4: Finding Balance
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 10:00:13 +0000 UTCThree days after Sailor Moon's first battle, Mamoru sat cross-legged on his apartment floor, surrounded by an array of crystals and minerals. His living room looked like a New Age shop had exploded—stones of every color scattered across a hastily laid out cloth, reference books splayed open, and half-eaten takeout containers pushed to one corner.
"Come on, work with me here," he muttered, picking up a piece of raw emerald roughly the size of a golf ball.
His shoulders ached from tension, and frustration lined his face. Five shattered quartz crystals lay discarded in a small pile—casualties of his previous attempts. The one that had exploded in trial five had left a small cut on his cheek that still stung, a reminder that theorizing about energy channeling was far different from actually doing it.
"Last stone for today," he promised himself, rolling his neck to release the tension. He'd been at this for hours, fueled by instant coffee and determination. "If this doesn't work, I'm ordering pizza and binging anime for stress relief."
He closed his eyes, cradling the deep green stone between his palms. The Earth's energy responded immediately, flowing into the crystal with surprising eagerness. Unlike the quartz, which had shattered spectacularly, the emerald seemed to sing with the energy, amplifying rather than merely conducting it.
"Holy crap," Mamoru whispered, opening his eyes to see the soft green glow emanating from between his fingers. A wide grin spread across his face as he felt the harmonious resonance. "That's what I'm talking about! Finally!"
The vibration warmed his hand pleasantly, unlike the uncomfortable burning sensation from the quartz. He laughed aloud, a sound of pure relief and triumph that echoed through his empty apartment.
"After all that tedious testing, we have a winner," he said, feeling somewhat silly talking to himself but too excited to care. He lifted the stone toward his desk lamp, watching how the light played through it. "And you're pretty too. Bonus points for aesthetics."
He could already envision how this would look as the focusing crystal in the Terra staff he'd been designing. Not just functional but meaningful—an actual connection to the planet rather than Tuxedo Mask's purely decorative accessories. Something that actually made tactical sense rather than just looking fancy for dramatic entrances.
"No more roses and poetry," he promised the emerald with a grin. "You and I are going to be about actual results."
As he went to place the emerald on his desk, a familiar resonance hit him like an electric shock—the unmistakable energy signature of Sailor Moon's transformation. The emerald slipped from his fingers, bouncing on the carpet as his head snapped up, his entire body suddenly alert.
"Shit! Not now!" he gasped, the pleasant fatigue from moments ago instantly replaced by a surge of adrenaline.
"Definitely her," he confirmed, rising to his feet. "Different location than last time. Downtown area, approximately two kilometers northeast."
The timing was significant—just days after the first encounter, another youma had appeared. The accelerating timeline suggested the Dark Kingdom was moving faster than in the original series, perhaps sensing the new energy patterns his presence was creating.
"Adaptation detected," Mamoru muttered, quickly gathering a few key items. "They're responding to changed variables."
He slipped the emerald into his pocket and grabbed a small notebook containing battle tactics he'd prepared for potential early encounters. Within minutes, he was racing across rooftops, Earth energy enhancing his speed and agility as he followed the silver-white beacon of Sailor Moon's power.
The scene he found upon arrival was worse than he'd anticipated. A youma shaped vaguely like a humanoid radio tower was discharging energy blasts in all directions, creating chaos in a small shopping center. Civilians screamed and fled while Sailor Moon dodged frantically, her movements panicked and uncoordinated. Luna was shouting instructions from behind a planter, but the cacophony made her guidance largely inaudible.
"No improvement in tactical approach," Mamoru observed grimly, crouching on a rooftop to assess the situation. "Still relying on innate power without basic combat training."
The youma was clearly drawing power from nearby electronics, growing stronger with each device it absorbed. Sailor Moon kept trying to line up her tiara shot, but between the panicking civilians and her own obvious inexperience, she couldn't find an opening.
A child's cry caught Mamoru's attention—a small boy, maybe six years old, huddled behind a decorative column as his mother frantically searched nearby, calling his name. The column provided minimal protection from the youma's wild energy blasts.
"No time for a perfect plan," Mamoru muttered, heart racing. This wasn't a game where he could calmly optimize his strategy. Real lives were at stake—right now, right in front of him.
Channeling Earth energy, he closed his eyes and pictured himself as the protector he needed to become. The power surged through him, and he felt his clothing shift slightly, a mask materializing over his eyes. The emerald in his pocket grew warm against his leg, and he nearly gasped as he felt it integrating with his energy—like someone had suddenly opened a water valve wider, allowing power to flow more freely.
"Okay, that's definitely coming with me from now on," he breathed, feeling the boost in his abilities.
He leapt down without further hesitation, launching himself between a wild energy blast and the column where the child hid.
Sailor Moon spotted him mid-jump, her face lighting up with such naked relief that it caught him off guard. "You came back!" she called, narrowly avoiding another energy blast. "Thank goodness! This one's so much stronger!"
"We've got this," Mamoru called back, manifesting a shield just in time to deflect an attack that would have struck her from behind. The words came naturally—not the scripted tactical instruction he'd planned, but honest encouragement. "It's drawing power from electronics. We need to get it away from any devices!"
Luna's ears perked up as she spotted him. "You again!" she shouted, her tone a mixture of relief and suspicion. "What do you know about this enemy?"
"I know it's about to blast that kid if we don't move fast," Mamoru shot back, nodding toward the boy. Luna's eyes widened as she followed his gaze.
Without waiting for her response, Mamoru darted toward the column. "Hey! Metal-head!" he shouted at the youma. "Over here!"
The creature's attention snapped toward him, its antenna-like protrusions quivering with what might have been anger. It raised an arm, energy gathering at its fingertips.
"Perfect," Mamoru muttered, positioning himself away from civilians. "Follow the tank, just like in the raid guides."
The blast came fast—faster than he anticipated—and he barely got his shield up in time. The impact sent vibrations up his arm and nearly buckled his knees. This youma was significantly stronger than the first one.
"Okay," he gasped, shaking out his tingling arm. "Not exactly like the game."
While the creature focused on him, Mamoru gestured frantically to the boy's mother, who rushed forward to grab her son. Another blast from the youma forced Mamoru to dive sideways, rolling into a crouch behind a planter.
Sailor Moon was attempting to circle behind the youma, but her movements were so obvious that the creature kept tracking her with one of its antenna, even while firing at Mamoru.
"Sailor Moon!" he called, genuine worry in his voice. "I'll keep it busy! When I say 'now,' hit it with your tiara!"
"What?" she called back, her voice cracking with stress. "When?"
"Just listen for me to yell 'now'!" Mamoru shouted, fighting back a very un-tactical urge to roll his eyes. Three days and Luna couldn't even establish basic battle communication? What the hell kind of mentor was she?
"Got it!" she called back, her eyes still wide with fear but a determined set to her jaw that hadn't been there before.
The youma, perhaps recognizing Mamoru as the greater threat, turned its full attention toward him. Good—that was exactly what he wanted. Drawing enemy aggression was what tank classes did best, and he'd spent countless hours mastering that role.
The creature launched a series of rapid-fire energy blasts. Mamoru dodged the first two with Earth-enhanced agility but miscalculated the third. It caught him in the shoulder, sending a searing pain through his arm that made him gasp.
"Okay, that really hurts," he hissed through clenched teeth. This wasn't a game where damage just reduced a health bar—it was actual pain, immediate and intense.
Despite the shock, his gaming instincts kicked in. He quickly identified the pattern in the youma's attacks—three quick shots followed by a bigger blast, with a brief pause between sequences.
"It's like a boss fight," he muttered, a smile tugging at his lips despite the danger. He'd beaten harder raid bosses with worse lag. This was his element.
Using the pattern, Mamoru started timing his movements, each dodge bringing him closer to the creature while making sure its attacks hit only materials that wouldn't feed it more power—concrete, wood, dirt.
"It's getting slower!" he called to Sailor Moon, who was watching with a mixture of fear and fascination. "Its attacks are weakening! Get ready!"
The youma's movements became more desperate as its energy reserves depleted. Suddenly, it pivoted toward a power junction box on the wall—Mamoru instantly recognized it as the monster's last-ditch effort to recharge.
"Stop it!" he shouted, lunging forward but knowing he was too far away.
To his amazement, Sailor Moon reacted without hesitation, diving between the youma and the power box. "Oh no you don't!" she yelled, planting her feet firmly, her voice suddenly carrying more conviction than fear.
The youma raised its arms to strike her directly, and Mamoru's heart leapt into his throat. "NOW!" he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency.
"Moon Tiara ACTION!" Sailor Moon cried, her tiara transforming into a glowing disc as she hurled it with surprising accuracy.
The tiara struck the youma's central core—a glowing orb in its chest. The creature froze, energy crackling around it before it dissolved into dust with a final wail that made the hairs on Mamoru's arms stand on end.
For a moment, everything was silent except for the distant wail of approaching sirens and the heavy breathing of both warriors. Then Sailor Moon's face broke into an expression of pure, genuine wonder.
"We did it," she said, looking down at her own hands like she couldn't believe what they'd just accomplished. She looked up at Mamoru, a tentative smile growing more confident by the second. "We actually worked together and did it!"
Mamoru couldn't help but smile back. There was something infectious about her joy, something pure that cut through his usual analytical distance. "That was impressive," he said, meaning it completely. "Especially that last move—you didn't even hesitate."
"I didn't?" Her eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "It just... I don't know, it just felt like what I had to do."
"That's exactly right," Mamoru replied, feeling a surge of something like pride. "You saw the threat and just reacted. That's how it should be—instinctive." He gestured to where she'd intercepted the youma. "Three days ago you were frozen in fear, and today you're throwing yourself between monsters and power sources. That's real progress."
She beamed at him, her entire face lighting up at the specific praise in a way that made Mamoru understand something he'd missed in anime analysis—Usagi didn't need grand speeches about moon power and destiny. She needed someone to see her actual growth and acknowledge it.
Luna approached, her tail doing that agitated swishing that reminded Mamoru of angry cats from YouTube videos. "While I appreciate your assistance," she began, her tone strained with forced politeness, "I must question how you keep showing up exactly when needed. How do you know when Sailor Moon is in danger?"
It was a fair question, and one Mamoru had been expecting. "I can sense her transformation energy," he said honestly, gesturing vaguely toward his chest. "It's like... a beacon. I just follow it."
"That's not a capability just anyone would have," Luna replied, her eyes narrowing to suspicious slits. "Are you finally going to tell us who you really are?"
Mamoru felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back that had nothing to do with the battle. He couldn't tell the whole truth—that would derail everything. But the mysterious ally act was clearly wearing thin with Luna.
"Look," he said, dropping some of his guarded formality, "I'm connected to the Earth. The same way she's connected to the Moon." He nodded toward Sailor Moon. "I'm here because the planet itself wants me to help. That's all I can really say right now."
"So you claim to be an ally of the Moon Kingdom?" Luna pressed, her tail still lashing.
Mamoru ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, feeling a flash of irritation. "I'm an ally of this planet and the people who live on it," he said with more heat than he'd intended. "The Moon Kingdom, with all due respect, isn't my primary concern. Protecting Earth is."
Sailor Moon looked between them, her eyes widening at the tension. Then, to Mamoru's surprise, she stepped forward and placed herself partially between them—a peacekeeping gesture that seemed remarkably mature.
"You're both helping me," she said with unexpected firmness. "I wouldn't have powers without Luna, and I wouldn't have survived either fight without you," she added, looking at Mamoru with genuine gratitude. "Do we have to figure everything out right this second?"
Her simple, practical question cut through the building tension like a knife through butter. Luna's whiskers twitched, and her posture softened slightly.
"I suppose not," the cat conceded, though suspicion still glinted in her eyes. "But this mystery ally routine can't continue indefinitely."
"Fair enough," Mamoru said, feeling oddly chastened. He looked at Sailor Moon, seeing for the first time not just the future Neo-Queen but the fourteen-year-old girl trying to make peace between her advisors. "Luna's right to be cautious. I'd be suspicious too."
The admission seemed to surprise both Luna and Sailor Moon. Before either could respond, police sirens wailed in the distance, growing rapidly louder.
"That's our cue to vanish," Mamoru said, nodding toward the sound. "The police aren't ready for magical girl explanations."
"But what about you?" Sailor Moon asked, genuine concern in her eyes. "Will you be okay?"
The question caught Mamoru off guard—her immediate concern for his welfare wasn't something he'd anticipated. It reminded him that for all her dramatic wailing and initial fear, Usagi's heart was fundamentally kind.
"I'll be fine," he assured her, his voice softer than he'd intended. "And yes, we'll meet again. These attacks are coming faster than before."
Luna's ears perked forward. "You sound very certain of that."
"Because I've been paying attention," Mamoru replied, unable to keep a hint of challenge from his voice. "Have you started teaching her defensive maneuvers yet? Or how to protect civilians during battles?"
Luna bristled but before she could respond, the sirens grew deafening. Mamoru took advantage of the moment to channel energy into his legs and leap to a nearby rooftop, giving Sailor Moon and Luna a quick salute before disappearing from view.
Once safely out of sight, he collapsed against an air conditioning unit, his legs suddenly shaky as the adrenaline crash hit him. His shoulder throbbed where the youma's blast had caught him, and he was suddenly, overwhelmingly exhausted.
"Not as easy as it looks in anime," he muttered, wincing as he probed the tender spot on his shoulder. It would probably bruise spectacularly, but nothing seemed broken.
He leaned his head back against the metal unit, staring up at the afternoon sky. The reality of what he was doing suddenly hit him with full force. He wasn't just playing a character or planning a raid anymore. He was throwing himself into actual life-threatening situations, with real consequences if he failed.
"What the hell am I doing?" he whispered, a slight tremor in his voice.
But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. The image of Sailor Moon standing protectively in front of the power box, the child huddled behind the column, the civilians running for safety—this wasn't a game. These were lives that depended on him using his knowledge and abilities effectively.
After a few minutes of rest, Mamoru pulled himself together and started making his way home, taking a more cautious path than his dramatic rooftop entrance. The emerald was still warm in his pocket, a comforting presence against his leg.
"Definitely keeping you," he told it, patting his pocket. "At least 20% power boost, by my estimation. You've earned a permanent spot on the team."
As he walked, his thoughts turned to the next steps. Battlefield support was crucial but not enough. Sailor Moon needed proper training between these increasingly frequent attacks, not just desperate coaching during combat.
"But what's my in?" he wondered aloud, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion made his thoughts fuzzy. "I can't just start following her around. That's creepy and suspicious."
He needed a natural point of contact, something that wouldn't raise red flags. Something that would give him legitimate reason to spend time with her regularly.
Mamoru's eyes drifted closed as fatigue overwhelmed him, but just before sleep claimed him, the memory of Usagi's test paper with its glaring red "30%" floated into his mind.
"That's it," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips as he drifted off. "The med student and the failing grade..."
The following afternoon found Mamoru at Crown Fruit Parlor, nursing his second cup of coffee as he pretended to study a medical text. His shoulder still ached, but the pain had dulled to a manageable throb. More concerning was his dwindling energy—he hadn't fully recovered from yesterday's battle, and he could feel it in the sluggishness of his movements.
"Need to work on stamina," he reminded himself, turning a page he hadn't really read. "Can't be running on empty after every fight."
He had chosen this location carefully—close enough to Game Center Crown to increase his chances of running into Usagi, but not so obvious that it would seem deliberate. The medical books were both cover and legitimate study material; he still had actual classes to pass, after all.
Two hours and three coffee refills later, fate finally smiled on him. A familiar wail of teenage distress cut through the ambient cafe chatter.
"Thirty points!" Usagi's voice carried through the cafe as she slumped dramatically into a booth with a dark-haired girl Mamoru recognized as Naru. "My mom is going to kill me! How am I supposed to explain another failing grade?"
"Maybe you could ask Ms. Haruna for extra credit?" Naru suggested sympathetically, patting her friend's arm.
"She already said no after the last three tests," Usagi groaned, her head hitting the table with a soft thud. "She says I need to 'apply myself' and 'focus on my studies' instead of reading manga and playing video games."
Mamoru hid a smile behind his coffee cup. The theatrical despair was so quintessentially Usagi, yet after yesterday's battle, he couldn't see it as merely childish anymore. This same girl had thrown herself between a monster and its power source without hesitation. The contradiction was fascinating.
He remained focused on his book, waiting for the right moment rather than forcing an interaction. Patience was key—it had to seem natural or she'd get suspicious.
As if the universe itself wanted to help his plan, Usagi chose that moment to surge out of her seat in dramatic frustration, backing directly into his table and sending his carefully arranged notes sliding to the floor.
"Oh no!" she gasped, immediately dropping to help gather the scattered papers. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I—" She froze mid-sentence, recognition dawning on her face. "Wait, you're that university guy! Mamoru, right?"
Mamoru looked up with just the right amount of surprise, though his heart had accelerated slightly. "Usagi, wasn't it? The crepe enthusiast with the interesting test scores."
Her face flushed bright red, and she tried to subtly tuck the test paper behind her back. "You remember that? How embarrassing!"
"Not at all," Mamoru said, accepting his notes as she handed them back. He allowed himself a small, genuine smile. "I think we established that math isn't everyone's strength."
Something about his casual acceptance of her academic struggles seemed to relax her. "It really isn't," she agreed with a self-deprecating grin. "In fact, I just failed another test, and now I'm definitely going to be grounded until I'm thirty."
Naru approached during this exchange, her expression curious. "Usagi, who is this?"
"Oh! This is Mamoru. We literally ran into each other a while back," Usagi explained, having the grace to look embarrassed about the collision. "Mamoru, this is my friend Naru."
Mamoru nodded politely. "Nice to meet you."
"You too," Naru replied, studying him with obvious interest. "Are you a university student?"
"Medical school," Mamoru confirmed, gesturing to his textbooks.
"Wow, you must be really smart," Naru said, eyes widening. Then she nudged Usagi pointedly. "Maybe you could give Usagi some study tips before she gets banned from the arcade forever."
It was the perfect setup, delivered so naturally that Mamoru couldn't have planned it better. He carefully kept his expression neutral, not wanting to seem too eager.
"I do have some experience tutoring," he said thoughtfully, then added with a playful smirk, "though I usually work with students who at least score in the double digits."
"Hey!" Usagi protested, flushing bright red even as she laughed. "Thirty is a double digit!"
"Barely," Mamoru countered, enjoying the easy banter more than he expected. "I'm not sure there's enough medical science in the world to save your academic career, Odango Atama."
"Odango—?!" Usagi sputtered, instinctively touching one of her buns. "Did you just call my hair a dumpling?!"
Mamoru grinned, surprised at how naturally the teasing came. "If the hairstyle fits..."
"Unbelievable!" Usagi crossed her arms with an exaggerated huff, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that suggested she didn't really mind. "And to think I was about to beg for your help!"
"Well," Mamoru relented, pretending to reconsider, "I suppose I could take on a charity case. For the good of society and all that. Can't have you failing out of school and being stuck playing arcade games for the rest of your life."
"It would help SO much!" Usagi exclaimed, clasping her hands together like he'd just offered her the moon itself. "If I could just pass the next test, my mom might let me live to see the new Sailor V game release!"
"Sailor V, huh?" Mamoru echoed, unable to suppress a small smile at the irony. The iconic magical girl who was actually one of Usagi's future teammates. "Well, we can't let you miss that, can we?"
"You're a lifesaver!" Usagi beamed at him, then bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. "But... I can't pay you or anything. I mean, I barely have enough allowance for milkshakes as it is."
"Consider it community service," Mamoru replied with a wry smile. "My finances are actually pretty comfortable these days."
That was an understatement. One of his first actions after settling into Mamoru's life had been leveraging his 2025 programming knowledge in this early-2000s tech landscape. He'd quickly picked up freelance coding jobs online, building simple e-commerce solutions and database systems that were cutting-edge by current standards but practically basic to someone from his time.
It had allowed him to drop most of Mamoru's part-time jobs while tripling his income—a significant tactical advantage that gave him more time for training and strategizing. The look on his bank manager's face when he'd made his first major deposit had been priceless.
"I've got some programming side gigs that pay well," he explained with deliberate vagueness when he noticed Usagi's curious expression. "Twenty-first century problems, twenty-first century solutions."
"Programming? Like computer stuff?" Usagi wrinkled her nose. "That sounds even harder than math."
"It's just another language," Mamoru shrugged. "Anyway, you can repay me by not running into me quite so often."
Usagi laughed, the sound unexpectedly bright and genuine. It surprised Mamoru how different it was from her nervous laugh as Sailor Moon—this was unrestrained, without the weight of cosmic responsibility.
"Deal!" she agreed enthusiastically. "When can we start? I have a math test next Friday that's going to be a total disaster unless I get help."
"How about this Saturday morning?" Mamoru suggested, glancing at his watch as if checking his schedule. "We could meet here around ten."
"Ten in the morning?" Usagi's enthusiasm visibly dimmed. "On a Saturday?"
Naru elbowed her sharply in the ribs. "Usagi! He's offering to help you for free. You can get up early for once."
"Right, right," Usagi agreed hastily, rubbing her side where Naru had jabbed her. "Ten it is! I'll bring all my horrible test scores so you can see what we're dealing with."
"Perfect," Mamoru said, unable to keep a hint of amusement from his voice. "Bring your textbooks, too. We'll start by identifying where you're struggling most."
After exchanging phone numbers—another strategic asset for future coordination—Mamoru watched as Usagi and Naru continued to their booth, Usagi already animatedly explaining to her friend how this would save her from certain academic doom.
"Phase one complete," Mamoru murmured into his coffee cup, feeling a surprising sense of satisfaction. It wasn't just that his plan was coming together—there was something genuinely pleasant about Usagi's unfiltered enthusiasm, so different from the guarded interactions of medical school.
He turned back to his actual medical texts, but found himself distracted by a new, unexpected question: Was he manipulating her? The thought made him uncomfortable. Yes, he had ulterior motives for helping her—but the help itself was genuine. She really did need academic support, and he could actually provide it.
"Two birds, one stone," he rationalized quietly. "She gets better grades; I get to help her develop skills she'll need as Sailor Moon." It wasn't manipulation if both parties benefited, right?
Still, something about it nagged at him. Perhaps because in the original timeline, Mamoru and Usagi's early relationship had been characterized by teasing and bickering rather than genuine support. He was already changing how they related to each other fundamentally.
"Altering the character dynamics," he murmured thoughtfully. "Potential ripple effects on emotional development and team cohesion."
He glanced over at Usagi, who was now laughing at something Naru had said, her earlier academic despair apparently forgotten. She had resilience, this girl who was destined to bear the weight of the solar system's fate. Her emotions might be volatile, but she never stayed down for long.
Outside the window, cherry blossoms drifted by on the spring breeze. Tokyo continued its afternoon bustle, unaware that in a small cafe, the foundation was being laid for a different future—one where Earth's guardian would actually do his job properly this time.
Mamoru closed his textbook and gathered his notes, his mind already turning to Saturday's tutoring session and how he could structure it to build both academic knowledge and transferable skills. For the first time since arriving in this reality, he felt something beyond strategic determination—a genuine enthusiasm for the path ahead.
