The Devil in the Detail

I have a theory that every time you make an important choice, the part of you left behind continues the other life you could have had.

Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson

On the first morning of the new year, Ando Tanaka wakes in his flat in New York and remembers that he isn't really Ando Tanaka at all. His name is Jadeite, and he is a murderer. Instead of making coffee, he pours himself a big glass of whiskey, sits down on his couch, and has what can only be described as a minor nervous breakdown.

Ten minutes later, eyes dry again, he calls his editor to tell him that he won't be coming in today and hangs up before the other man can complain. Ando gets up from the couch, takes a shower, gets dressed in his favourite t-shirt and pants and walks out onto his balcony. He looks at the city, bathed in cool clean air and early morning sunlight, and feels goosebumps rise on his skin. He takes a deep breath, climbs over the railing and jumps.

On the first morning of the new year, Ando Tanaka wakes in his flat in New York and remembers that he isn't really Ando Tanaka. His name is Jadeite, and he is a murderer. Not sure what to do with that knowledge, Ando decides to go on as usual until he finds a guidebook to reincarnation. He switches his coffee maker on (hands shaking) and waits beside it as the brown liquid drips into his second favourite mug, feeling calmer with every drop that hits the orange porcelain.

After two mugs of coffee, he takes a shower, gets dressed, and heads out to work before the rest of the city is even properly awake, which, given that this is New York City, is saying something. The air is as cold as it can be and even though the snow hasn't fallen yet, he can smell it in the air. That has nothing to do with premonition or second sight or whatever hocus-pocus his memories want to foist on him. Oh no. It's just experience and basic common sense. Contrary to his father's belief, he does have quite a lot of that.

Side-stepping some dog crap on the pavement, he wonders whether he can just go on like this forever, pretend that everything is fine, and that he is just Ando Tanaka. He decides to give it a try. He doesn't want to be Jadeite, doesn't want to be a murderer and traitor. He wants to be Ando Tanaka; journalist, bachelor, moderately loved son, hater of poodles, and lover of all long-legged women.

Fifty-three years later, he dies in his sleep, never having met his prince or the woman he used to love.

Was he happy?
Who knows.

Did he ever really forget them?
Don't be silly.

On the first morning of the new year, Ando Tanaka wakes in his flat in New York and remembers that he isn't really Ando Tanaka. His name is Jadeite, and he is a murderer. He doesn't get out of bed all day, and when he does, when the first day of the new year is finally over, he pulls a new notebook from the shelf and begins to write down everything he remembers.

It's a lot.

This is how he spends the next two days, until his doorbell rings. There are blisters on the fingers of his right hand, and he has broken five pencils and written another one down to a stump. Hiding the notebook under his pillow, he pads to the door, three days worth of stubble on his face. It's his editor, who glares at him, red-faced and angry. Oh, right. Work.

"There is a conference on the nature of globalism in Tokyo, shave that beard off, get your ass in gear, put on whatever sorry excuse of a suit you own. You're on the next plane or I am calling your fucking mother."

Ando swallows, and thinks of the notebook and the memories.
"No, thanks," he says and slams the door shut.

He continues to record his memories for another week. By the time he is finished, there is no food left in his flat and no more cash to pay for takeout. The stubble has grown into a beard, and he doesn't smell particularly good. Whether it's the empty feeling in his stomach, the fact that the smell of his own arm pints makes him want to bury his head in a box of soap or because there is simply nothing more to write down, he knows that it's time to take action.

He showers, shaves, goes out to get cash and food and then begins a methodical search for his lost friends and his prince.

He travels the whole world, one country after the next. There is a map in the back pocket of his jeans, and he crosses out places like days in a calender. Because he remembers the centre of the Golden Kingdom to have been somewhere warm and dry and sandy, he starts in Egypt, and when he doesn't find luck there, continues to wander from one African country to the next until he has seen them all, but found nothing.

Sometime in between, Tokyo becomes a ghost city. Evacuated a long time ago, it eventually drowns in the molten fire of a volcano. Ando hears about it, but doesn't pay it any notice. He is on his way to Europe by now because there is a man in Paris who looks a bit like Endymion and how has come up with a scheme to successfully fight hunger and famines. That's a very Endymion-thing to do, Ando thinks, and spends the whole flight wondering what his prince will make of him now. Will Endymion be happy to see him? Will the others be there already? The questions make him giddy and nervous, but he feels a hope that he feared he lost by now.

But it's not Endymion, just a good man with black hair and blue eyes and the wish to save the world. There are more of those around than you would think.

Ando keeps looking, but doesn't find his prince or his friends. He doesn't return to New York either because giving up is not an option. He will go on. He does go on.

Until he drives his car over a forgotten land mine in a muddy road in Nicaragua.
And that's it.

On the first morning of the new year, Ando Tanaka wakes in his flat in New York and remembers that he isn't really Ando Tanaka at all. His name is Jadeite, and he is a murderer. He doesn't get out of bed all day, and when he does, when the first day of the new year is over, he pulls a new notebook from the shelf and begins to write down everything he remembers.

It's a lot.

This is how he spends the next two days, until his doorbell rings. Hiding the notebook under his pillow, he pads to the door, three days worth of stubble on his face. It's his editor, who glares at him, red-faced and angry.

"There is a conference on the nature of globalism in Tokyo, shave that beard off, get your ass in gear, put on whatever sorry excuse of a suit you own. You're on the next plane or I am calling your fucking mother."

Ando swallows, and thinks of the notebook. Then he realises that the memories of the past are just that, memories, and he might have been someone else, but he is also Ando now. And Ando has a job, damn it.

Still, he is a bit confused. He doesn't normally cover globalism, Wilkins does that. Ando writes about books, movies, travels, and occasionally, religion. "Why me?" he asks and blinks at his editor.
His editor rolls his eyes. "Because you were born there, weren't you?"
Yes, he was. And he read somewhere that sometimes in order to go forward, you have to go back. Must have been some crappy self-help book he had to review at some point.
"Fine, make some coffee, I'm going to take a shower, and then you can brief me."
His editor snorts and mutters something about not being Ando's maid, but both men know that it's all pretence.

When Ando returns from the shower, clad in his favourite t-shirt and pants and drinking from his second favourite mug, he wonders how of much of him is Jadeite and how much is himself.
"I'll cover the conference, but afterwards, I'm going to travel a bit, see Japan." Seeing something different might help.
"How long?" his editor grumbles, and Ando shrugs. "As long as it takes."

So Ando leaves New York and flies to Japan. Once he gets there and covers the conference (which is thoroughly boring and pretentious, or, differently put, exactly what Ando expected), he decides that he doesn't really want to travel Japan, so he drives back to the airport.

As he stands in queue at the ticketing booth of American Airlines, he spots a young man who looks eerily like Zoisite, only in... happy and alive. One version of Ando balks at the sight, checks into a nearby hotel, drinks himself stupid for a week, and then on his way back to the airport, accidentally runs into a blonde girl who carries a million shopping bags. That girl is Minako Aino. In this version, Ando and Rei don't get back together, and neither do Minako and the man who used to be Kunzite. Crystal Tokyo isn't really peaceful after that.

But another version of Ando looks at the young man until the young man catches his eye, and then the two of them go for a beer together. The young man is called Umino and he and Ando connect instantly. They decide to search for Endymion together.

One afternoon, two weeks into their so far fruitless search, Umino proposes that they go watch a hockey game together. Ando thinks hockey is stupid, but he hasn't figured out how to say no to Umino yet (it will come to him, fear not). So they go the game and annoy each other a little, okay, a lot, and afterwards, instead of going flat hunting with Umino as planned, Ando spontaneously decides to take a walk by himself.

It's still winter, and still cold, and it still hasn't snowed, neither in Tokyo nor in New York. Ando wonders what the fuck is wrong with the weather and quickens his stride. It seems colder here than he remembered from his visits as a boy, and earlier this morning, he decided against thermal underwear because it makes him feel like an idiot. So he is cold, and in a hurry, and the walk is no fun at all, even less when he slips on some frozen puddle. And because this is that kind of day and that kind of life, he breaks his leg.
He's taken to Tokyo General Hospital, and the surgeon in the ER is none other than Mamoru Chiba.

In this life, the whole reunion process goes a lot faster. Mamoru calls Usagi, Usagi calls Makoto, Makoto tells Hiromasa, Hiromasa doesn't tell anyone and just grabs his car keys, but luckily enough, Usagi also called Mina, who called both Ami and Rei, and on the whole, the words "shitennou" and "hospital" get screamed a lot.

So precisely three hours, seventeen minutes and fifty-nine seconds after slipping on that frozen puddle and breaking his leg, Ando Tanaka finds himself staring at Rei Hino, who looks a lot like Mars, but maybe less regal and more concerned. They stare at each other until the door slams open once again and Umino stumbles into the small hospital room, already filled to the brim with Mamoru, Usagi, Hiromasa and all four inner senshi.
The only one missing is Kunzite, but then Rei comes clean and Mamoru heads out to pick up the last missing sheep. The fear and the anger and the guilt hit all of them at a later point because let's face it, murder and treason, even several lifetimes ago, are subjects that come with a lot of residual rage and at some point the worry over a broken leg just won't cut it as the last line of defense any more.

But the life in which Ando and Umino went apartment hunting together after the hockey game, that is the one that Ando would have chosen himself, if he had known the importance of making decisions about coffee, conferences, thermal underwear, and timing, most of all timing. Why? He heard broken bones are a bitch, so he's gonna let that one pass, thank you very much.

***The End***