Genre: General/Romance
Rating: PG
It was surprisingly easy not to love her.
They swore he was lying or deceiving himself, but really, he didn't-love-her with ease.
Oh, sure. Usagi and Mamoru worked out beautifully. He'd give Fate that one. But theirs was a different kind of love.
For Noboru, though, the love just didn't carry over. Kino Makoto was a nice girl. Really, she was. And she was Jupiter – whom he used to love. But she wasn't the princess of Jupiter. Well, she _was_, but . . . she wasn't.
She was Kino Makoto, who was still Sailor Jupiter and technically princess of Jupiter. But she wasn't his princess of Jupiter, and she certainly wasn't the Sailor Jupiter he had known.
His Jupiter had been . . . Noboru could barely remember. But he remembered certain qualities – had flashes of them in hazy color. Strength. Pride. Beauty. Grace. Serenity. Balance.
She had balanced her strength and her beauty wonderfully.
But Kino Makoto. Well, Noboru was sure she had those qualities. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She certainly _looked_ like his Jupiter. But she was too brash, too violent. Impetuous and impatient.
Quite frankly, she was rather rough around edges, and Noboru liked women with a softer quality.
Despite her famed protectiveness and amazing domestic qualities, he wasn't in love with her. And he wasn't falling in love with her. He wasn't running away; he was simply trying to avoid falling into a happily ever after that wouldn't be true, for both their sakes.
A couple of them said that he would end up falling in love with her when he saw her in her element, surrounded by trees and nature.
She had stood there in the shades of the trees towering over her, looking up with wonder in her eyes – the same expression he assumed he had when he looked at the stars.
She had been peaceful.
Others said it would be when he saw her dressed up and ready to seduce.
She had entered the room gracefully, carefully sidestepping the servers' busy hustle. She had bared her back and had dominated the room with her presence, standing taller than most of the other women and still managing to look just as elegant.
She had been amazingly sexy.
And still others insisted his feelings would return when he saw Jupiter take down a youma.
After kicking the youma and flipping away from it, she had given it the shock of its mediocre life when the crown of leaves on her head had multiplied and swirled around her body. When at least she had thrown her arm forward and released her attack on the youma, even Noboru could not deny.
She had incredible strength.
And yet. He did not fall. He did not love her. He could acknowledge her as a beautiful and strong, sexy and fun, but he could not call her love.
They had been so sure that he would fall.
And they were right.
But they had put their money on the wrong thing.
They had just finished another picnic with everyone else.
Makoto still kept her distance. She was uncomfortable around him. He didn't blame her. Though, he wondered if it was because of the past or because of the pressure they were receiving on all sides.
He still watched her. Still tried to glimpse his Jupiter. More out of curiosity than anything else. Today, he watched her play American football with Jiro, Minako, and Usagi. She suggested they play barefoot. She would.
He watched her hold her aching sides, laughing gutturally, when the ball hit Usagi, who threw her arms over her face instead of opening them to cradle the ball. He watched her collapse onto the picnic blanket with the other two girls, drifting in and out of a nap in the warm sunlight.
But it was at the end of the day, that his grudging admittance of her would turn.
They had all begun trudging away, groggy and complaining of the picnic paraphernalia weighing them down, but content all the same. He had turned to wait for Makoto as a courtesy, as she was trailing behind the rest.
It happened then.
She stood paces away in worn jeans, torn at the knees, and a tank top, holding half her hair up with one hand as she gathered the rest with her other hand. She looked out over the lake idly, tie in her mouth. Noboru's gaze had dropped to her feet, not wanting to be intrude on whatever personal moment she was having, and the harder he stared, the more he realized that she was still barefoot.
He glanced voyeuristically at her toes peeking out beneath the frayed edges of her jeans.
'Pink nail polish.'
He was so absorbed by the undeniably feminine shade and the extremely well-cared for feet that he was startled when the toes moved. To face him.
His eyes quickly sought hers, and she looked embarrassed. _She_ looked like she had been caught doing something. And then she kind of frowned questionably at him, like she remembered _he_ had been staring at _her_. Well, at her toes anyway.
Noboru did what came naturally when he was in awkward situations, and he smiled with ease. Caught off guard, Makoto withdrew, looking at him strangely and resisting a smile that might have been shy, or uncertain. Noboru could not recall her ever being shy or uncertain.
A whistle pierced the air. Jiro. He was the only one who could whistle like that.
Makoto grabbed the duffel bag at her side, slung it over her shoulder, and took off in what seemed like one easy motion. She left Noboru staring at her bouncing tail of hair. Puzzled.
He wouldn't say that was the moment he had fallen in love with her. It wasn't. He wasn't even sure that he started any immediate time after that moment. His love had probably occurred months after that day.
He didn't know if it was because she had been barefoot. Or if it had been the pink nail polish. Or that look that dared to _question_ him, because she did dare. Or that smile that Noboru could never recall seeing.
But he would, for the rest of his life, remember that one moment in time, when she had looked over that body of water, and he had seen something better than his Jupiter.
Kino Makoto.
end