Quid Pro Quo

by Adamina

After his partner has to reluctantly bail out on him to visit a relative, Mamoru is stuck alone to volunteer as a camp counsellor. Sweet as sugar, Usagi offers to partner up with him, as long as he does something for her. But what?

1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

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The coffee, steaming in its cup, sat in front of him. Black, bitter, strong and stimulating. Just the way he liked it, and would continue to like it for the rest of his life, he was sure. Raking a hand through his ebony hair, Mamoru picked the mug up by the handle and held it to his lips. He didn't sip, he never sipped. To him, sipping was for those men that were either of royal status or very much in touch with their feminine side. Not that he considered himself the macho man, but he'd prefer to take long, deep gulps and take pleasure in the feel of the steaming liquid flow down his throat. Despite what others said, he found the taste just as tempting as the smell.

Today, he needed it.

His hand reached out for the manual resting on the counter of the Crown Arcade. A deep sigh rumbled in his throat, folding the cover back and drawing his eyes to the bottom of the paper. Written down below was the dreadful function he was assigned, his name jotted down beside it along with another's. What was her name again? he speculated absent-mindedly, scanning the page. Misako...Misako...

He shrugged. Well, Misako something-or-other. Brown eyes, he recalled, and red hair. When some described her they'd add that she had the cutest sprinkle of freckles dusted across her nose. He didn't know, he never saw them himself, most probably because he was never truly acquainted with the girl before except as partners in the seminars. He made a mental note to learn her last name before they went out to do this public service for the community.

"What do you have there?"

With the usual cloth swiping away invisible specks of dirt on the counter, Motoki sauntered up with his usual cheerful smile.

Mamoru turned the paper towards his friend, sliding it across the surface. Another gulp of the coffee and he glanced up and lingered.

A blonde brow arched. "What's this all about?" he asked, pointing to the article.

"Some years back I signed up for a summer job as a volunteer. I did some community work with them to fill up my free time, and, mostly, because it would look good on my resume. Forgot they still had my name," he muttered into his cup, an exasperated expression upon his face.

"You've been signed up?"

"You got it."

"As a camp instructor?"

He almost coughed out a breathless laugh. "Right again." The cup sounded when it hit the counter, and his hands restlessly combed through his hair once more, then rubbed roughly over his face. "Never did camp before."

Setting the book down, Motoki propped his arms on the counter and inclined. "All those little kids." A smile teased his lips. "Swarming around. You have to learn how to teach 'em to stay in line." An image of Mamoru dressed as an Army officer popped up in his mind, a leather strap in hand.

That'd certainly be the day.

"It'll be hell."

"Isn't there a way to back out? You're a volunteer after all."

"I thought of that, too." He said, peering down at the picture of the brilliant wilderness' and 'magnificent mountains'. "I was going to. I even had the phone in my hand, ready to make up an excuse to stay home. Some major finals are in September, you know." His eyes narrowed in thought. "But then I thought that it'd be an experience. I never went camping as a kid, so why not be an instructor?"

"You're really serious." Motoki claimed after searching the man's face. "You want to be one?"

"No. I want to experience-" he emphasized, "-being one. There's a difference."

"Uh huh." His tongue shoved in his cheek. "Sure there is. Well," he went on before Mamoru could protest, "at least you have one thing to look forward to." He picked up a soaked dish and started drying it.

"Oh?"

"Yep." He winked. "There's bound to be some good-looking girls strolling around. Most especially by the swimming area."

Mamoru arched his brow. "Does Reika know you talk like that?"

He sniffed. "She loves me anyway."

"Mhm." But he rolled his eyes anyway, attention turning when the bells above the door jingled happily and a blue-eyed blonde skipped in, humming to the tune seemingly resounding in her head. A grin, too tempting to resist, smirked his lips up as he watched her. He couldn't say why really, but whenever the odangoed one came hopping in it seemed as if the stage was set, characters in place, and amusement was the initial reaction.

Already in a brighter mood, Mamoru swivelled in his chair. "Odango Atama!"

Her face, not unusual at all, went beat red. Her nose scrunched up, her cheeks seem to swell like balloons, and... was that smoke steaming from her ears?

"Don't call me that, bakayaro!" In effect, she stomped her foot to the linoleum, firmly making her point.

The damned smile just grew wider. She growled low under her breath, her spine straightening out of sheer pride. Clutching the handle to her schoolbag, Usagi lifted her chin up, looked at him down her nose, and, gracefully as she could, made her way to the stool set one away from his. But, unfortunately enough, at the last moment, accidentally of course, her foot caught against an invisible pebble, instigating her to trip, hands wailing and eyes wide.

Her chin hit the counter's edge, snapping her head back, and her body hit the hard ground like a ton of bricks. There was pain, there was always pain, and the stars had burst in front of her eyes so dazzling and brilliant she thought that she was viewing the solar system.

Except it wasn't night time.

And she wasn't outside.

"Ah!" Screaming. It was the only way to release some of the pain. Not many people would realize it, but ever since her first accident on roller-skates she figured it was easier to yell than to cry. Tears fell from her eyes all the same, though, and her neck felt as if it had broken off. She would have cried for her chin, cried out for it, but no words were able to form from the immensity of the sting.

Motoki was over the counter in five seconds. Mamoru was by her side in half that time.

"Kami that looked bad!" Motoki winced just thinking about it. "Usagi-chan, are you okay?"

Mamoru had her up in his arms and set on the counter before anything else could be said. Supporting her neck by cupping it, he scrutinized.

"Can't run her chin under water," Motoki murmured, moving back around the counter to wet a cloth cold.

"Why not?" He was prepared to dunk that idiotic little head of hers right under the tap.

"Mamoru, you'll drown her!"

"Don't be dramatic." He eyed Motoki's damp cloth. "Do you have any ice?"

"In the back."

"Here," he took the cold cloth, ignoring the crowd watching with owl eyes. Placing it under the blonde's chin and holding it there, he told Motoki to go fetch the ice pack. Still watching the tears brimming in her unaware eyes, he shook his head. "If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. You're a clutz, Odango."

Even through all the blood rushing in her ears she heard that. Pain and annoyance mingled. The urge to cry harder was unbearable. The urge to kill was even more so, and the only person in her view at the moment was 'him'. Her eyes fired. "Get away from me, jerk! Leave me alone!" she tried to push his hands away, but they stayed firm where they were. "I don't need your h-help." She was stuttering. She never seemed to mind stuttering in front of anyone else, but easily resented it when it came to him. Her teeth would have clenched, but even they ached horribly. "I don't want you around me. I..." -no words could express the anger she needed to get out- "I dislike you."

He'd heard worse before. Much worse. Yet, her words cut at him for some reason. Not smiling, not even frowning, he raised both brows. "Dislike me?"

Motoki came out and leaned beside Usagi, cradling the pack underneath her chin. She blinked, and blushed, not noticing that her archenemy was holding her chin gently with a cloth. Her eyes stayed level, if a little watery, on his. "Hate's a strong word." And she meant that with every inch of her being.

That made the edges of his lips tip up a bit. Replacing the cloth with the pack, he said, "Don't you hate me, Odango?" And surprised them both with the tender tone.

Hate him? Hate...him? Lord, she hadn't ever hated anyone in her life! How could she? No one deserved to be hated, she thought in wonder. She knew, contrary to what other people thought, that hate was like a disease incapable of being cured. Her answer shuddered from her lips, the ache fading, numbing, inch-by-inch. "No..."

A blush adorned her cheeks. He saw the way it flashed on as his friend came out and knew that it was for him. The little rabbit had been crushing on Motoki for as long as he knew her -probably longer. The little tid-bit of knowledge made him uncomfortable when her eyes were still staring up at him in bemusement and her lips parting on a shaking breath.

So he took her hand, brought it up under the ice pack, and abruptly took a step back. Woah, he thought at the sudden awareness to bolt, what just happened there?

Motoki, brows drawn together, watched the emotion flicker over his friend's face, none of which he could read clearly. Though some eyes were watching, the chatter of the arcade went on around them, unaware of the tension floating through the air.

So he coughed. Blue eyes turned on his hazel. "Your usual, Usagi?" He asked, and prepared himself to make her a strawberry milkshake before she even answered.

"Hai!" Immediately forgetting the electricity shocking between the two, and the leftover sting at her chin, she spun in her seat with the ice still held to her face. "With a cherry?"

Mamoru watched her for a moment longer, shrugged, then sat back down. "A cherry with strawberries?" he snorted. "Who eats cherries with strawberries?"

"I do." She stuck her tongue out at him, patiently waiting for her snack.

"Well, I can understand that." It was meant as an insult, and came off as one with the dry sarcasm. "Odango," he started logically, "they're two different berries."

"I know that!" she snapped. "What's your point?"

"My point is that you just don't eat two different berries together." He waved his hands as if it were the most simplistic reason in the entire universe. "It just doesn't happen."

"How do you know?" she countered. "I'll bet a lot of people eat berries with berries. Like," she hurried on, "strawberries and blueberries."

He eyed her. "Where?"

She rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever had strawberries and blueberries for breakfast? You know, with milk." At his blank look she gestured with her hand. "In a cereal bowl."

"First of all," he said, "no. And second of all, that's raspberry and blueberries, and third of all, when do you have time to eat breakfast?"

"I eat breakfast!"

"Toast." He recalled. "You're always ramming into me in the morning with toast in your mouth."

Her jaw dropped. "I do 'not' ram into you, pal! You just happen to be in my way!" As her milkshake was slid in front of her, she cupped it in her hand and took an experimental sip. Approval waved in the air and she shot her current crush a beam before she turned back to Mamoru. "It's not my fault you can't learn to step out off the path when you 'know' I'm coming just around the corner." Finally, she said, "Arigato, Motoki-san!"

Who was she trying to kid? he wondered at the obvious dreaminess in her eyes. If she was trying to hide her little infatuation on the sandy-blonde, he thought almost bitterly, she wasn't doing a great job of it. For an unknown reason, he resented that.

"I suppose you're angry at the rest of the people you run into, too, hmm?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I didn't imply anything!" she was ready to stand up and bop him one in the nose. But the taste of the milkshake soothed her, so she kept in her seat. "I just said that you should be more cautious."

"I'm surprised that you know what cautious means," he drawled lazily.

Her eyes filled with fury. "I'm not 'that' stupid!" Hurt pinched at her hard.

"Could have fooled me. Isn't today your last day?" Relaxing his head on his propped up shoulder, he tilted his head to this side, grinned.

She pouted, suspicious. "Yes..."

"Report cards, right?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at, Chiba?" Deciding that her chin had enough of the cold, she placed the pack down and rested her arm.

"Nothing, really. How's your grade average doing, I wonder?"

Oh! So that's the game he wanted to play, huh? Well, she was always ready for a challenge. "It's doing just fine." Better than usual, at least. And that said something, right? "Thank you very much." Leaning down, she reached into her pack and pulled out her report card. "I got an A in Drama." She beamed again, looking directly at Motoki.

He smiled charmingly. "Way to go, Usagi-chan."

Glowing with approval she shot a smug look. Mamoru rolled his eyes. "What does that prove?"

"Ugh!" It was her turn to look up heavenward. "It brings my grade average up for one. And I got an A- in Phys. Ed." As proof Usagi pushed the envelope across the surface to Mamoru.

"Phys. Ed? You?"

She glared. "It isn't so hard to believe. Right, Motoki?"

He nodded, ruffling her hair like a brother might towards a little sister. "She's a great swimmer there, Mamoru. Take my word for it. And she's not bad competition in volleyball."

"Hmm..." he wasn't listening, his eyes scanning the card. "Math. Science." His eyes looked up. "Social?"

Her face flushed, her hands linked together. "So I'm not good at core subjects." She turned, her mood dimming a bit. She circled her straw in her drink, watching the swirling lines fade away in the bubbles.

Motoki leaned over, curving his neck to view over Mamoru's shoulder. Surprise flickered. "You went down in Health."

Now her face went red as a tomato, and she let it dip low. "I...umm..." she licked suddenly dry lips. "The topic wasn't very..." she searched for a word. "Appropriate."

Both men's eyes snapped on hers. "Appropriate?"

Oh God, why didn't the floor just swallow her up? "Well, you see," she scratched the back of her neck, refusing to meet either of them in eye contact. How was she supposed to explain this? she wondered. They'd probably think her immature because of it. Clearing her throat, she looked directly at the wall in behind the counter. "They were -the teacher's I mean- they were discussing...we were talking about," she bit her lip, blocking visions.

Mamoru leaned forward, hearing her mumble incoherent under her breath. "What was that?"

The blush only brightened. "Sexual intercourse."

"Sexual..." he trailed off, glanced at Motoki in amazement. "Sexual intercourse?"

"Yes..." she looked at them then, coiled back at their incredulous expression. "What? What is it?" she threw up her hands. Huffed.

"Usa..." Motoki leaned forward, touching her arm as gently as possible. "You DO know what sex is, don't you?"

Oh for the love of- "I thought you of all people would give me a little more credit than that, Toki." She pouted.

"Well, yes, of course." He was still looking at her though, as if she were some five-year-old kid. "Then why didn't you consider this an appropriate subject?"

Just as curious, Mamoru let his prior problems slip to the back of his mind, leaned on the counter and watched expectantly. Some sensation, warm and a bit nerve racking, stumbled inside of him. He couldn't believe the little rabbit was actually considering talking about this. Despite certain... unfortunate ...circumstances between the two of them, he'd always thought of her as a little innocent, unwilling to consider anything worse than bad grades and the absence of food.

And here he'd just found out that she'd been exposed to the erotic , simply enthralling.

Usagi rolled her eyes. How come she was talking to him about this? For Pete's sake! It was the main guy in her current love life who was hearing it. Act mature, Usagi, she told herself. "I...I only meant that since we already know about that kind of stuff, why are they trying to teach it to us again?"

"I think that they were trying to dig a little deeper than what your parents told you."

"Well it was deep enough." That was the truth! "Oh, I'll never look at pregnancy the same way again." She shook her head in emphasis.

"Did they show you something traumatizing, Odango Atama?" The tone was sarcastic and amusement laced it.

She looked at him, faced scrunched. "For your information, baka, what they showed me was much more graphic than anything I would have ever thought. How will I look at my mom the same way again?" she murmured the last part to herself.

"What'd they show you?"

"Birth." At their expressions she shook her head quickly. "I mean, the real thing. A whole video! No blurry parts blocking anything. It was like," she waved her hands, trying to draw a picture, "I was there. Right there! I was standing in the room looking at her...watching the baby come out of..." Lord, strike her down, now! "I'll tell you what it looked like. It looked painful. It LOOKED not like I thought it would look at all."

Ah, yes. Those wonderful videos that they presented. Without sympathy, Mamoru nodded. "Suck it up. It's the way things are, Odango. We call it," he grinned with charm. "Life."

"Yeah, well that part of life can stayfar, far away." She said wisely. "No way am I going through that."

"If you want kids you're going to have to."

Her eyes filled up. "But why?"

Before the ebony-haired man could respond with a quick, smart aleck retort, Motoki laughed. "Don't worry, Usagi-chan. You won't be having to think about this for a long while yet. I hope." The last part came out as sort of a warning. But he winked in good-humour.

She stared up at him, her mouth open. The blush that had faded away came zeroing back on her cheeks while she glanced shyly down at her drink. Unable to stay still, her legs kicked beneath her as she stirred her beverage. She could already imagine herself and the sandy-blonde having a family of their own one day...skipping the labouring part of course.

Mamoru didn't quite like the way she stared up at his friend, hope filling her eyes. He didn't notice the way his knuckles turned white at his side when his hand fisted. Nor did he notice, as Motoki did when he turned around, the death glare that he speared Motoki's way.

Then the doors came zipping open once again, and a redheaded woman came rushing in, her nose-freckled face streaked red with tears. Anguish was in her cry as she dramatically flopped her head in her arms when she reached the stool in between Usagi and Mamoru.

He blinked. "Misako...?"

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, tears running like waterfalls. "Oh God! I didn't want this to happen! I told my mom that I had to do the camp thing!" She suddenly grabbed his hand, bringing it up to her chest. He blinked, bewildered. "They're taking me to...to...Saitama!" she spat bitterly. She couldn't believe her parents were actually doing this to her! She looked closely at her former-partner. Her lips trembled. She could have spent a whole week with this gorgeous guy, and instead she was being forcefully dragged to -to what? - Her grandparents' house? "I can't counsel with y-you." A sob ripped from her throat.

Usagi watched the back of her head unbelievably. What in the world was 'her' problem? Feeling slightly embarrassed for the woman, a bit amused at the look on her enemy's face, she calmly decided to mind her own business and took a sip from her shake, but not without keeping her ears perked at their conversation.

While others called it eavesdropping, she maturely called it overhearing.

"Oh." She was leaning on him now, sobbing into his shirt. Patting her back awkwardly, he looked around for help. "Um...well, don't worry." He gave a small smile. "I can find another partner."

Another sob just wrenched from her harder, her back trembling hastily. She said something in a watery tone, but no one quite caught it above her cries.

Although the show was quite entertaining -he didn't get to see his friend self-conscious often enough- people were starting to turn heads. Holding out a hand, Motoki gave Misako's shoulder a little squeeze, slowly leading her up and around the counter. "Here, let me find a tissue for you in the back." With a last backward glance they disappeared behind the swinging doors.

There was a rather large damp spot on his shirt. He felt it. But since the colour of his top was black he didn't think anyone else would notice, so picked up the remainders of his coffee -chilling coffee- and soothed his nerves with the bitter taste. When the cup drained empty, and his nerves were still up, he frowned deeply.

Then felt a pair of eyes on him. Almost reluctantly, he slid his gaze sidelong, and rammed blue with blue.

Arching his brow, sending the blonde a mocking look, he sighed. "What is it, Odango?"

She only glared at the name this time, but curiosity won her over and scooted herself to the empty stool between them. She was leaning forward, looking like a mouse on tenterhooks as she tried to search the man's face. He grimaced; she bit her tongue to keep from smiling.

Oh! Now she could see it. Now she could see what all the girls from her class seemed to be whispering about when they came through here after school. No, she'd never admit it -was there a point? - But the guy was, indeed, a good-looking sucker, wasn't he? Ocean eyes that swam like the calm of the sea, midnight black hair that shone with just the same glow as the moon. A face of a mischievous angel, always something gleaming behind those eyes. A moment longer as she studied his uncomfortable face she was hit hard with her thought. Oh, jeez. Well, she mentally checked off, one thing she had to do was get away from those romance novels. Next thing you know, she'd start spouting poetry.

"What is it?" he asked again, somewhat irritated.

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing." But still, she looked on.

"Then can you turn your attention elsewhere?" He pushed his mug away. "Don't you know it's rude to stare?"

"Yes. But we were never polite to each other anyway." She beamed as if impressed by her thoughts. After all, it was true.

His thoughts ran along the same line. "You've got a point there."

"So," Somewhat bored, she hopped a bit on her seat, her glance slipping to the back doors where someone, probably Misako, blew their nose loudly. "Who was that?"

"Who was who?" He couldn't help but notice the cute little way she kept moving, as if the world would end if she happened to stop.

"That girl. The one who put that water stain on your shirt." -she pointed- "Was she your girlfriend?"

He almost laughed. "Misako?" He shook his head, for an answer and to clear his thoughts. "No. No, no. She's just a girl-"

"That's very gentlemanly of you."

"-Who attends the same college of me." He ignored her. "We were supposed to volunteer together."

"You?" she asked, pointing at him, her eyes incredulous. "You volunteer?" She snorted. "No way."

"Is it so hard to believe?"

"Yes." She said simply. "You're not generous. You're always mean and rude. And..." she picked a word she heard on her favorite Disney movie, "pompous."

"Oh, but only to you, Odango." And that wicked smile shot up on his lips again, and she almost caught herself fumbling.

"Me? Why me?"

"Don't be angry. You should be flattered that you were picked out as 'the one and only'."

But she turned furious anyway. "Flattered?"

"Charmed."

She would have rolled up her sleeves if they weren't short. "I'll show you charmed you over-conceited, stuffed-up, arrogant half-wit!"

"Big words," he began, "for such a small kid."

"Then perhaps you'll explain to me in simple words how you manage to tuck that over-sized ego into that jacket of yours." Kid. The dreaded word rang through her like broken bells. She was almost fifteen! She was not a kid!

He started to retort at that, but a sidelong cough stopped him. Both arguer's turned their heads, staring at the girl with the fire hair that was busy fidgeting with her hands, biting her lip, and looking a bit embarrassed.

"Umm..." Misako hesitated, searching for words that'd make up for her attitude. Now that she was composed and thinking clearly, her nerves were flustered and baffled. "Sorry 'bout your shirt, Mamoru-san," she pointed out.

What WAS it with the female population that could make everything unnoticeable so easily seen? Must be something with the eyes, he thought suspiciously, and promised himself he'd look it up later. He was studying to be a doctor, so it was the right thing to do. With encouragement, he smiled to Misako, watched her glance shyly away. "Don't worry about it. I've had worse stains." When her cheeks went slightly scarlet he rummaged his mind for extra words he wasn't sure he had. "I was really looking forward to steer with you."

Her eyes seem to brighten at that. "You were?"

"Yes. It's a shame you can't. Maybe some other time."

She nodded enthusiastically, managing to pull off the same type of childish nod that his foe could by just merely living. Yet, he mused intensely, she didn't quite pull off the same reaction that Usagi did. Strange...

"Yes. But, now you're on your own to be a camp leader, Mamoru-san," she said, concerned. "What will you do?"

"Hey!" Motoki interjected, coming around beside Usagi and putting a hand on her back. She looked up, curious, but he pursued. "There's always time to find another, right?"

"It's this weekend," Misako said. "There won't be time."

Mamoru groaned. And all those kids to look after.

"Well..." the blonde looked down to the top of Usagi's head. "I'm pretty sure there's someone out there who'll help out of the kindness of her heart."

He took his face out of the hands they were buried in and stared at Motoki. "Her?"

Oblivious, and eagerly helpful, she smiled, relishing in the feel of her crush's touch. "That's right. I'm sure someone will help you, Mamoru-baka. There has got to be SOMEONE out there who'll take pity on you."

He sneered, she smirked.

"Indeed there is." Motoki smiled. "And I know the very person who'll do it." His grip on her shoulders tightened.

Now, Usagi may have been a bit slow in math, and science, and social and most likely everything else, but she knew when a signal was given to her and what a squeeze on the shoulders meant. And she jerked away abruptly. Accusing eyes turned to him, her mouth in a sulky pout. "You're drawing a dangerous line, Toki."

"You said there had to be a caring soul in the world."

"I didn't mean me!"

"Her?" Mamoru pointed, his eyes stunned, his jaw open.

Misako looked at Usagi with sceptical eyes. "Her?" But she meant it in a totally different way. Why not a Him? With the green female eye of jealousy she sized the girl up, and decided she was being ridiculous. After all, the girl was only a child. Hardly competition.

Hardly.

"Well, you saw so herself that she's done well in gym! And she's a people person, and great with kids. I've seen her first hand." He winked down at Usagi, and a part of her melted again.

"Or she'll just sleep the whole time, and it'll be like I'm by myself anyway."

"You don't think I can do it?" Defences were up!

"I know you can't do it."

She recognized a challenge when she saw one. "I can so do it!" she sniffed. "Just name it! Time and place."

"This isn't a dare, Odango Atama." He ignored Misako's humorous snort behind him. "I don't want to be fired from a volunteer job."

"You can't be 'fired' from a volunteer job, idiot," she drawled. "Just tell me when and I'll be there. What are you afraid of?" She emphasized 'afraid', a war whoop in her own eyes. And then there was the fact that she needed to prove Motoki right, too. One for another.

"There's no such thing as 'afraid' in my vocabulary."

"Wonderful! Then there's no objection to Usa-chan joining you on your service project!" Motoki announced. "That won't be a problem, would it? She's above the age limit."

"Yes. These kids are only five to eight years of age." There was still uncertainty in his voice, mistrust in his eyes. They narrowed on the petite blonde. "We won't last a day together."

"I can be civil."

"You?"

She scoffed. "Don't make it sound as if I'm inhuman, baka!" she hissed. Crossing her arms together she nodded towards Misako. "I can bet you that I can do this job even better than her."

Morally offended, the woman sucked in her breath, her eyes blazing. But her voice was calm when she spoke, her hand coming upon Mamoru's shoulder. "I wouldn't bet on it, little girl. Mamoru-san?" she said, not letting Usagi get a word in edgewise. "I have to go now. I'll see you in two weeks maybe?" With a fabulous smile, one she was sure would melt his shoes off, she flipped her hair back, shot Usagi a superior look, and sashayed out of there.

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?"

She was rewarded with an irate look. "I'm pretty sure I can keep track of whom I date, Odango Atama."

She couldn't say why that sounded sharp -so sharp it literally stung her heart and clenched her stomach-but it did. But she could twist feelings when she wanted to, which wasn't very often, and turned envy into anger. "That's because you've probably only dated a handful of girls. And I wouldn't put it against them if they were forced to do it."

"Uh huh."

She heard the tone; the mockery was shining in his eyes. His facial features weren't affected either way, and it made her even more furious than before. "Shut up."

"Let me guess. Snappy school of come-backs, right?"

She sniffed, said nothing.

Motoki cleared his throat. "When was it again, Mamoru-san?"

"When is what?"

"The camp thing!"

"Oh, right." He never took his eyes off Usagi. "Well, if you're sure she's up to it..."

"I'm up to anything." Her lips were set firmly.

"I never had a doubt," he retorted, mocking. "What with the canoes, hiking, lions and ghosts -you did hear about the ghosts, right?" Cocky and smug, his mischievous grin widened when her ice-blue eyes seemingly grew the size of pumpkins, and her fair skin drained of all blood.

"Ghosts?" The one thing she hated more than hate itself was just that: The mysterious unknown. Lord, the way people spoke about the spooky spirits, how could one tell when a ghosts was ready to attack? Especially, most especially, when you couldn't see the damn thing?

"I'm surprised with all the junk you read you don't know about the history of it." Yet not even bothering to mask his betraying calmness, he linked his hands together casually. "The place is haunted. Lousy with ghosts." Ignoring Motoki's piercing gaze, he nodded almost sympathetically. "Sometimes you hear about things like this in the paper, but don't believe it." His eyes turned to hers. "Believe me, Odango. It's true."

Motoki's hands squeezed her shoulders lightly in comfort, stirring a jolt in her stomach and warming her body up again, bit by bit. She tried to laugh at herself. Heaven knew, she should have known better than listen to the almighty idiot sitting beside her, and wouldn't have being a little cynical about flaky newspapers herself. But there was something about him right then, something about the air floating around her that told her something different.

Waiting a beat, ignoring the same sensation he felt crawling eerily around him despite the falsness of his words, he continued, "Anyways, it starts this Saturday and ends on the Twentieth. But since two other counsellors will be taking over, we'll only have to spend one total week together." He said it with a sigh, for Usagi's benefit naturally. He made it seem long and dreadful, testing her. "How will you manage?"

Her hands that had fisted against the cold, clamminess that his statement produced suddenly went limp. Her eyes opened almost immediately. The chilled air vanished, as did the frightening thoughts of childhood nightmares. "This Saturday?" she squeaked. "But I can't go this Saturday! My parents are supposed to be taking my brother and me on a trip to Europe! Paris! It's the romance capital of the world!"

"No it's not."

"It could be!" she seethed at her rival. "You expect me to miss THAT for a" -ghost hunt- "camping trip?"

"What'd I tell you, Motoki-kun?" With a smile, he propped both elbows up on the counter and leaned back. "Weakness. Won't even sacrifice herself for children."

She glared, wishing death...well, maybe not death, but wishing damnation on the idiot of a man. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did. I would so sacrifice myself for children if-"

At his raised brow, she bit her tongue. There was a war tumbling inside of her and neither side was winning. There was scale to be balanced, she knew, and that was between her love life and the illusion of her love life. Motoki or Paris? Love or Romance? Pride or dreams? Sparing a glance to her current infatuation, she watched him smile at her and her insides trembled.

Motoki, love and pride won out.

She glared through slated eyes. "You owe me, Chiba."

---

She was dragging out her suitcase when the car pulled up. The case was heavy, filled with, in her opinion, fun stuff to keep her occupied during free time. There was free time, wasn't there? She hoped so while she plopped her luggage in front of the automobile and scowled. Then looked up.

And, oh, her thoughts were then occupied with the sleek red and black vehicle.

He saw her gawk, and smirked. "Is there a problem?"

She shut her jaw at his voice, stepped back and shoved her hands in the pockets of her baggy shorts. "No problem," she murmured, but kept her eyes still on the car. Who'd have thought that the idiot would have taste? At least in vehicles, that was for sure.

"Then let's get a move on. The camp's only...say...some hours away."

"Some hours?" Her head snapped up to him meet his gaze, and couldn't resist the urge to let them linger on his outfit. God knew she wouldn't ever admit it, but the man looked good in casual jeans and a plain button-up shirt. She could see the golden tan of his chest from the collar left broadly open, and wondered then how many other girls were able to see the entire assembled canvas.

Good build.

He said something. Letting her stare travel back to his face, very slowly, she gave him a blank look. "What?"

He couldn't help but smirk. "Something on your mind, Odango?"

Oh, if he only knew. Astonished at her thoughts, at herself, she waved her head, side to side. "Nothing that concerns you." Her fingers wrapped around the handles of her suitcase, prepared to haul it up and inside when her mother's voice came calling from behind her.

"Oh! Are you sure you don't want to come with us? We'll be so far away from each other, and you'll have no way of calling..." Ikuko looked ready to cry.

"There are phones at the camp, Tsukino-san."

Ikuko looked up, surprised. "Who is this young man? Why didn't you introduce us, Usagi-chan?" She wagged her finger to her daughter, but put on her best smile behind those watery eyes. "I'm her mother."

"Mother?" Enamoured, Mamoru caught her hand and brought it to his lips, setting his best grin. "I was thinking older sister."

Usagi's mouth opened wide when she heard her mother giggle and viewed the tinted rose flushing on her cheeks. Unbelievable. She fired a fleeting look towards Mamoru, her expression deadpan and wry with a look that said, Give me a break. Usagi thought that if she had a daughter, and her boyfriend ever used that line on her, she'd crack up tedious.

"What a charming young man." Her mother winked discreetly to her daughter. "And a handsome one, too."

"Mom!"

"Just stating the obvious, dear." But Ikuko's ears perked up. "Is that your father? Oh, you'd better run. You know how he is when it comes to boys." She gestured them away.

Mamoru took Usagi's suitcase in his hand. "Boys?"

"It's a moral term for you. Don't worry about dad," Usagi said. "Odds are you'll never find out anyway."

"Right." With a walk to the trunk, Mamoru lifted the luggage and laid it in. "I guess. Well, it was nice meeting you, Tsukino-san."

"Oh, call me Ikuko!" She gave his outstretched hand a quick, firm shake before herding them into the car. "Safe trip! I'll see you in two weeks, dear." She leaned into the passenger seat window to give Usagi a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of your daughter, Ikuko-san." Yet the roguish shimmer in his eye was anything but sensitive. "Sayonara!"

The engine roared, then gunned, and bolted straight down the road in a cloud of dust. Usagi turned away from the window, her eyes locking on Mamoru's form. "It's a playground zone, genius."

"No one's around."

"And you said I didn't care about children." Her arms crossed. "So how many hours are 'some'?"

"A few."

Breath sizzled between her teeth in annoyance. "Three or more, Mamoru. Give me a something to go by."

"Why does it matter?"

"I like to know how many hours more I can live."

"I thought you liked camp."

"I wasn't talking about camp."

"I'm wounded." But his eyes were laughing. Turning right at the corner he let his head fall back on the seat. "Oh, I'd say three and a half. Depends on which road we take."

"There's more than one way to this thing?"

"Where there's a will, there's a way."

"Your wit astounds me." She jabbed back, biting at the inside of her cheek. "Do you usually dress like that on Saturdays?"

"I dress however I want, whenever I want. Why?" he shot her a bantering look. "Does this bother you?"

"No." Defiance came first before shock from the way he hit her feelings right on. "I was thinking of the kids, naturally. You don't want to set a bad example for them, do you?"

"I don't really think that letting loose a few buttons is going to urge kids to join a gang."

"You never know what kids of today are thinking." Her chin stuck out, bold.

"Can't say that I do." At the red light, he turned to her. His bangs fell messily into his eyes, setting off the colour of them as blue contrasted with black. "Is that really what you're worried about? The kids?"

No. "What else would I be worried about?"

He didn't know, or he knew but wouldn't take the chance of saying. A knowing smile was hovering on his lips, a vulgar guise glinting lustrous in his expression. "Something else."

He looked rough, she thought, and wild, daring. A skitter of something she was afraid to acknowledge danced up her spine. For the first time since she'd known him -or was it really the first? - She was afraid she'd melt at his eyes.

On a shaky breath, she grimaced in her seat. "Light's green." Her voice was jagged and hoarse.

He turned his head. "So it is." Foot pushing on the accelerator the car proceeded. The tension that filled the car swelled the heat significantly. The feelings that neither one would dare to consider crammed the atmosphere. And all Mamoru could think of was: This is going to be a long drive.

---

It was. It was horribly long. Disastrously long. It was longer than the years between now and the Silver Millennium that always seemed to be popping up in her dreams. It was the longest drive that she'd ever had to go through and she doubted that the way home would be any easier.

Proceeding to their assigned cabins, the mountains of trees that were spilling out around each and every corner shaded the path towards different destinations. And just atop the hill, peeking out behind the main camp's lodge, Usagi observed, was a sparkling lake that crystallized the camp immensely. Because the air called for it, and because the mountains behind the rolling hills of pine were set so beautifully, her hopeless romantic heart sighed, then melted.

Of course, she sniffed, her form stiffening as she felt his arm brush lightly against hers, she really hadn't noticed. She'd been too preoccupied bickering with the bakayaro, ignoring the way his grin seemed to make her heart pound faster, and disregarding it by getting some extra shut-eye. But she liked to complain about the enormously protracted travel just to annoy the man.

It didn't really seem to be working. More or less, Mamoru seemed... entertained?

She'd have to try harder next time, she noted while they hiked to the cabins they were given. It was down deep in the forest, she noticed. A twenty-minute hike back to the main camp. How odd. Frowning just a little, she proceeded into the shadowed trail, tugging her case with her. The wind shuffled, swayed around Usagi's body, then stopped. She shivered, confused at the unexpected awareness that filled her. The feeling that twisted through her wasn't one of cold fear, nor was it one of awkwardness. It didn't make her want to stay, but her body wasn't really screaming to run either. Casting a side-glance to Mamoru, wondering if he felt that eerie impression, her fingers tightened their hold on her handle and she bravely moved on.

And stopped when her vision suddenly faded.

A scream caught in her throat just as her breath caught. Something was wrong. Was she going blind? Was she loosing her mind? Did she faint? Was she alive? Did she fall? Her arms waved around, then shot up to feel for some sort of mask anyone might have blinded her with.

But she couldn't feel her face. She couldn't feel her hands. Where did her legs go? Where did Mamoru go? Deadly cold, a streak of panic struck a thin line through her stomach. The fright was so bright and clutched onto her so hard she could hardly breath. Gasping for air as though someone was strangling her, a tingling feeling ran straight up her back, quick as a spider. She hated spiders. Because of that, a whimper managed to sound out between the lips she couldn't feel, and that very sound echoed off unseen walls.

As quick as the panic that streaked through her, warmth covered her like a blanket and light filled her eyes so brilliantly that she had to squint and look away. The tingling sense turned into the solid feeling of limbs and life, and the uncertain blackness faded into a meadow of flowers. No, Usagi observed, a garden on the edge of a palace.

Expecting him to be there, she turned her head to her side and found no Mamoru apparent. Whirling around, opening her mouth to call for him, concern took over and twined with an absent curiosity of where she was. Or where she thought she was.

Yeah, she grumbled, her eyes dashing back and forth, no doubt I klutzed out again and knocked myself unconscious. The baka's probably cracked up hysterical by now, taking no time in his busy schedule to help me back to reality.

Jerk.

A gasp, a sob, a shuffle of footsteps sounded behind her. Twisting her head, Usagi's eyes came in contact with a woman that started stumbling out from behind the bushes.

"No," she said, her hands coming up to her tear-streaked face. "It's not true. It's not true. It's not possible! Lord, you can't believe it's true!"

Another shuffle. A figure practically hidden behind the leaves of the bush seemed to stiffen. "You forget one thing, my dear, and that is that anything is possible. After your betrayal, I wouldn't expect anything less from you. A burdened soul left to twist in the wind, no," he mused to himself, "you really wouldn't crawl any lower." The deep, male tone was stone hard and definite.

"They're lies!" she tried back, desperation pitched in her voice. "How can you believe them and not I?"

"Have you given me any reason not to?"

The woman, after a moment, became solemn, dropping the hands that reached for him back to her sides. Just above of whisper, she answered, "Just one."

The picture, so lovely and dramatic, started melting into colours of grey and black, and the woman turned transparent, her eyes moving to Usagi's as if she had been aware of her presence from the start. She looked on sorrowfully before the scene gave out and blackened once more. Though fear and alarm did not follow with it this time, the deep aching sadness that Usagi questioned remained.

The next thing she was looking at was the dirt ground, and her legs weakened from where they had been locked and would have buckled had she not caught herself in time.

She was back, she noticed. Back on the path to the cabins. With Mamoru.

Remembering, her head spun towards him only to find him looking at her, colour drained, and eyes filled with sympathy and confusion. His movements were shaky, but only for a second as he straightened himself and shook his head, clearing it.

His breathing was laboured, he knew, but his voice was steady as he spoke. "Did you just..." How did one explain it? "Did you see that?"

"I think I did."

"Yeah..." Not knowing exactly what to say, he dragged a hand over his face. He hated the quaking feeling that kept racking through him, and tried to shake it off as best he could. They just had to get off the cool trail was all, he reassured himself. "Must be the fresh air."

"If you'd like to use that as any excuse." She retorted quietly, agitated but not sure why.

Ignoring her, he muttered, "I'm getting a cat scan when we get back." If he was starting to see things already, it was due time for a full out exam.

With her body already denying the vanishing vision, and the emotions that came with it, she muttered something short and rude under her breath and persisted. She had to get out of the shadows. Didn't she hate the dark? Yes. She hated the dark, because the dark meant that she was alone. She hated being alone, too.

Taking a step into the clearing, into the warmth of the sunlight, the already fading memory disappeared into her subconscious and the irritate nerves went with it. A smile curved on her lips, and the suitcase she was dragging came to a stop as she lifted her arms and let the rays fill her. Simple delight sprinkled upon her, plain happiness shone from her face. The kindliness was so easily felt that she began to think she could stay like that forever and be blissful.

Until something dropped down painfully on her foot, making her yelp and jump up and down like a bunny.

Mamoru merely lifted his brow and said, "Odango, really." Pointing down to her suitcase that accidentally slipped from his fingers after helpfully picking it up, he hauled his own over his shoulder and started towards the two standing huts. "I thought you'd be more responsible."

"Mamoru, you idiot" was all she hissed between her teeth.

Trying to bite off his own amused grin, he motioned her to follow and stopped between the cabins.

He looked like one of those six-year-old boys who always linked their hands behind their backs, rocked on their heels, and peered up at you with one of those mischievous grins bowing on their lips. As if they had just done something wrong. She leered. Her toe was throbbing and she had no doubt the moron had something to do with it. Thinking so, she stepped up on one of the cabin's wooden steps, studying the cheerful bright green of the shutters. "I call this one."

Mamoru rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter which one you choose, Odango. They're both the same."

"I'm exercising my right to choose." She sniffed. "Ever heard of women's lib?"

"You're not a woman." And so he had kept telling himself the whole way through the trip, disciplining his eyes to keep from straying to those gorgeous pair of legs that seemed to travel for miles.

Usagi mimicked Mamoru, turned her eyes to the skies. "It says so in my history book that I am. Or was. Or..." Puzzlement laced her voice.

"Go on."

Because his tenor was filled with laughter, she glowered at him from her spot and went on from simple arrogance. "In the medieval times it was said that once a female was able to reproduce, that automatically meant that she was a woman! So just because I don't have a glamorous figure, a beautiful face, and a sexy voice doesn't mean I'm not grown!" The speech would have appeared outstandingly adult if she hadn't automatically stuck out her tongue right after.

Yet because she did that, she didn't notice the way Mamoru's eyes darkened with both surprise and intensity.

She was being humble. He didn't think that she was doing it on purpose either, like so many girls would when they went fishing for compliments. By the way she stood, by the subdued look on her face, one could easily tell that she was relatively expecting an insult rather than anything of good fortune. It irritated him, though; by the way she couldn't understand the falsehood of her words. Faint figure? Unattractive face? Voice? Oh God, she lived with herself! How could she not see it, hear it, feel it every single day? He heard the way she laughed, and though it was light and chiming, it was also, undoubtedly, a woman's laugh. She wore the face of an angel, and carried the body of an ideal model. He may have always been her enemy -unfortunately enough- but he wasn't dead. And by the way the male population of Juuban looked at her, neither were they.

She was staring at him now, nonetheless, and if he didn't say anything witty or droll, she might gaze hard enough and stare into his emotions.

"I'm sorry. You pay attention in school?"

She wondered why she'd expected anything more than an affront. "What is everyone thinking? Of course I pay attention in school! I may not get high marks like you or Ami-chan, but I don't get a zero on my tests either."

"Yet, still you manage failing." He leaned on the timber rail.

"It's not my fault. At least..." she paused, her brows pulling together as she stared down at her hands. "At least I don't think it's my fault."

He didn't know what to say. She had such a contemplative look on her face, one filled with confusion and guilt, that his heart almost broke for her. Masks were built on everyone, he knew, even those who were outright with their emotions like the little rabbit in front of him. Perhaps, he thought to himself, he had been much too quick to judge with the Odangoed one.

Interest perked, eyes finely sharpened. Perhaps this trip would prove to be a benefiting one after all. A horn blasted loudly, and could be heard from the direction of the camp. With both suitcases he'd volunteered to carry in hand, he moved towards Usagi's temporary cottage and jiggled the doorknob to open. Setting her luggage down, he turned to her. His smile was soft without mockery in it, and his features were too kind. It could have been her heart that had wobbled for just a moment, but she didn't want to over-analyze.

"That's the camp. The kids must be arriving." With a masculine gracefulness he strolled toward his neighbouring cabin at the right of hers and repeated the same moves, his own bags disappearing. "We better get back and claim ours."

Dismissing the prior discussion, she nodded enthusiastically. "Any specific age group?" she wondered out loud.

"Can you handle ages seven and eight?"

"Without worry." Eagerness shone in her eyes. "I used to baby-sit when I first turned ten. My first job was an infant, so these should be easy." She gave him an oblique look. "And you?"

"No former baby-sitting jobs. No brothers and sisters. But I've seen first hand in the children's hospital how they take care of kids." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking on beyond the trail, and took time to wink at her. "This should be a piece of cake."

Famous last words.

---

All he could say was that he was profoundly glad for everyone's sake that they received only ten girls and seven boys. He hadn't counted on the young being so damn carefree and energetic. He watched as the boys yelled, screamed, and chattered away about the most important things that happened on the last day of school. My teacher fainted! A frog was hopping around in the class! My sister kissed her boyfriend!

And at that last one all the males couldn't help but express, their 'everlasting' opinion with moans and groans and shouts of "Girls are disgusting!"

Oh, Mamoru thought, they only had to wait a bit more than half a decade and they'd be swallowing their tongues when any pretty lady sauntered on by. Strolling to the back of the group while Usagi was upfront leading them, he breathed in the wilderness and took relish in the feel of the sun beating on his back. For the moment, everything seemed content.

She took a chance and glanced back. Relaxed was how she would define the expression on her partner's face. Relaxed and at ease. He was staring up beyond the clump of trees at that very moment, staring as if searching for a something that would fleetingly fall from the sky, knowing it wouldn't.

She frowned. He had probably decided he'd just hang back and stick her with the duties. Jerk.

"Are we going to go swimming?" A girl tugged on the hem of her shorts, gawking up at her with the largest brown eyes she'd ever seen.

"Eventually."

"How?"

Usagi blinked. "How? Um...the usual way, I suppose. Jumping in the water, moving our hands, kicking our legs. That sort of thing."

Those brown eyes went wider than the planet Jupiter. "In our clothes?"

She gave a small laugh, ruffled his hair. "I don't think we have to go that far."

"I brought a swimming suit." The girl beamed undauntedly, awaiting approval.

"A good thing."

"Where do we swim?" one of the boys demanded, but turned to Mamoru and started walking backwards.

"In the water," he said simply.

"Mamoru!" Usagi said in disdain over her shoulder.

He sighed, lifted his arm and pointed to his left. "There's a lake over there. You can jump off the pier and knock yourself out."

His mouth dropped to the ground, and he stopped his backward advance. "Really?"

"As far as I can tell." Mamoru grinned at the sound of disgust that came from Usagi. "But try not to," he told the boy. "It sometimes hurts."

"Nice advice, there, Chiba."

Her merely smiled her way and winked at one of the eight-year-old girls staring his direction. The girl, already dewy-eyed towards the dashing knight, gasped, thrilled, and her young and eager heart heaved a sigh. Camp was already looking up.

Usagi could only groan at the thought of more members being added to the "Let's-Love-Baka" club.

"Okay," she started, rubbing her hands together as they started through the clearing. "Everyone's got their gear, right?" At the ripple of "yeah" "yes" and "you betcha"s, she jerked her thumb behind her. "Alright then. Cabin one is the girls', who are clearly with me. Cabin two is the boys'. Mamoru," she gestured to him nonchalantly, "will be your captain. And I am Usagi. We'll round the introductions after we've set up camp." She grinned at the customary term and fought off a chuckle. "Alright, ten minutes?" she turned to Mamoru in question.

Well, wasn't she the routine leader? "Yes ma'am."

"Don't be late," she warned. Men, opposing the common belief, were always late. Whistling for the girls to follow, she tramped up the wooden stairs and disappeared with the mob inside.

Mamoru didn't take his eyes away until she shut the door. Somewhat uncomfortable he turned to the kids. "I guess you guys'll want to set your equipment up and get started, hmm?" They were absorbing his every word, watching him as if the next thing he did would either go towards bringing about world peace or destroy all humanity. Diverted at the thought a chuckle escaped him and he signalled them through into the bungalow.

"When's dinner?" Usagi asked fifteen minutes later. She'd been right, of course. They had taken more time than necessary to make everything in their sleeping area perfect. What did men have to get ready for? They were kids, ready to roll in mud, and Mamoru, well, he never seemed to care about his appearance anyway.

Her nose scrunched up at the thought of his green blazer. One of the major problems.

"I should have expected you'd ask sooner of later." The kids were scrambling up ahead as they followed slowly behind, keeping careful watch. "Are you going into starvation mode, Odango?"

"I'm not going into starvation mode!" she jabbed back. "I was curious. I have to stay on top of things, y'know."

"Uh huh." Doubt was corded with sarcasm. "Don't worry then, we'll be heading to the cafeteria soon enough."

"Why? What time is it?" she reached for his wrist, pouted when he easily snatched it away.

"It's only four o'clock. Calm down."

"I am calm."

"Sure." He was recompensed with a fuming look, but only started whistling.

A crowd was at the lengthy pole at the top of the hill, Instructors of the camp standing up at the front, waving counsellors to the overlook of watch over the mass and instructing the kids to stay with their own groups.

"Quiet!" A woman with brown hair, streaked silver, hollered between her cupped hands. When the crowd noise went dull, she continued, "Welcome to Camp Sahara! For two weeks there'll be nothing but swimming, hiking, horseback riding, canoeing and stuffing each other's faces with marshmallows!" Seeming to like the idea of that, many of the ten-year-olds kids whooped and cheered. The woman laughed, flapping her hands to settle down. "I am the camp leader. You may call me Chisato. So far you have placed your things in your rightful areas that you were directed to. Right now I will assign your cabin by colour and place your scheduled activities in your counsellors, as you already know them, hands." She lifted the megaphone to her mouth and started calling out names.

A man with fair hair and tanned skin, and -she couldn't help but notice- ghostly eyes, handed Usagi the post board, yet not without letting his fingers brush over hers. "The silver camp, mm?" His grin was stunning. "I'm the gold camp. Right beside yours and just a few paces away. Maybe we'll run into each other some time."

A bit startled, but accepting the action as a friendly one, Usagi beamed cheerfully and nodded. "Yes, maybe. I hope so. This place is so big." Being a social person herself, it couldn't hurt to make friends on the large camping grounds, especially if either her or the bakayaro needed help. Remembering her colleague, she pointed behind her. "That's my partner, Mamoru. You'll probably meet him soon enough too, since we're so close to each other. Don't mind his manners," she told him. "He might insult you if you accidentally throw a ball of paper at his head."

He blinked, mystified. "Excuse me?"

"Oh! I'm Usagi by the way!" She shook his hand.

The enthusiasm was contagious. "Masao."

"Oops!" She couldn't help the embarrassed flush when Mamoru's impatient voice cut in, calling her back. "'Gotta go! See you!" And she bolted off just like the bunny her name suggested.

"Yeah. See you." Masao watched her leap to her group, and wondered.

"Next time, I retrieve the guidebook," Mamoru said, pressing his hand on top of Kyuso's, a seven-year-old boy's, head to keep him from jumping up and down enough to rattle his brain.

"It's not a guidebook. It's a...uh...it's a-um-it's a thing." Yeah, you sure showed him, Usagi.

She scowled. Shut up.

"A thing, huh? Right." He craned his neck. "What do we do first?"

Her face lifted. "Eat."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he wondered out loud, then called for a brown-haired, bright-eyed girl to slow down.

"Because you know me so well." Her tongue stuck out between her lips as she studied the paper. Before he could respond, she yelped happily. "Look! Look!" she tugged at Mamoru's open collar, pulling him down to make sure he saw the schedule. "It's a meadow!"

All he saw was a map. Shrugging, he arched his brow. "So?"

"So," she went on, annoyed that he couldn't understand, "it's the Celicia meadow. I hear that when you arrive there at night you can see the entire world of stars sparkling in the sky, and shooting far over the mountains." Her eyes went wistful. "I remember seeing a picture of it in my Mathematics book. It looked wonderful."

There she went again, he noticed, speaking through school to prove her point. It seemed odd that she could remember so much about certain topics, and fail so miserably at them.

"What was a picture of a meadow doing in your mathematics book?"

"We were practicing slope and area," she said. "From the look of it, the meadow is a pretty large place. Maybe we can go there!" Ideas were popping up left, right, and centre. "On a hike! Or when we're horseback riding! I don't think it's that far. Especially if it's on the camp map." She tilted her head, prepared to study the map again and look for answers. "What do you think?"

"I think I smell smoke." The wheels appeared to be turning rapidly in that head of hers. "Leave the ideas for later. We still have to figure out what we're going to do for an activity option tonight." He pointed to the end of Saturdays list.

"Oh, yes." She turned her head, ready to suggest, but stopped abruptly when her face came only breaths away from his. Her stomach turned in circles, her heart jumped in her throat, and her eyes intensely came up to his without blinking. Her mouth was open, her breath was askew and uneven, and her fingers trembled and threatened to let the board slip from her fingers. His scent filled her senses, his warmth encircled her, and she suddenly had the sudden image in her mind of kissing him right then and there.

And as the same picture came through his mind he couldn't stop himself from inching closer. It would only take a slight movement of his arms to have her falling into them, having his lips resting upon hers, and her endless storm of words cut off in the most pleasurable way he could think of. There was a dust of freckles on her nose, he perceived. Never, he remembered, did he see them on Misako's nose, but suddenly Usagi's became so evident in her characteristics, just like the way her eyes sparkled when something pleased her, and the way her smile lit up the room when she entered it. His hand started reaching up, prepared to cup her chin and do what fate obviously intended. He had never known an attraction so powerful before, never realized that it was all directed at her of all people. For a moment, only that moment did he become conscious the tugging of his soul reaching for hers.

And then became even more aware of the constant tugging at his pant leg. Irritation took over, but logic pushed it down as his eyes strayed down. His hand dropped to his side but he didn't move. "Yes?" he asked the girl who was insistently tugging on his jeans.

"I'm hungry." Child innocence and honesty waved around her. "And one of the boys ran ahead."

A nervous laugh bubbled up in Usagi, one she never imagined she had. "Oh, well then." She cleared her throat because it was coated with gruffness, then spotted the small figure in the distance, and held two fingers in between her lips. Whistled. "Hey! No running ahead!" That one, she knew, was gonna be a handful. "Perhaps we should make our way up to the cafeteria then." Her eyes reluctantly moved to Mamoru's for a sign of approval, a waiting answer. Anything.

He took in a deep breath, nodded. "Right. Okay. I'll get the rascal." He had to reorganize his thoughts as he started after the boy. His body was heavy, suddenly, as if he'd just awoken from a deep sleep. But the little rascal of a runner was fast, and it took him longer than intended to scoop the kid up and give him a brief lecture on staying with the wolf pack. "Up the hill then. Don't run!" he yelled, then groaned when the order was easily dismissed. "This must be what it feels like to be a father," he groaned. Oddly, it felt comforting and soothing all at once too.

The tension floating in the air was thick, but vanished when Usagi came up, a teasing smile tugging at her lips and waves of delight hovering around her. It was contagious. "Tired already?" Innocence.

His expression was mild. "Don't make me laugh," he drawled. If she could release the aforementioned event so effortlessly, then so could he. "Watch a magician work his magic, little lady," he told her magnificently. The term was supposed to be associated with the tone, but curiously enough it seemed more of an endearment than anything else.

Neither noticed.

More or less, it was Usagi's dream buffet. At her old camps they would usually just serve macaroni and cheese, and peas or carrots, which was what she assumed they would just do here. Fortunately, she didn't have to through hell and back trying to gulp horrible camp food down when here. At this suddenly glorious camp, there was a whole week's worth of meals from delicious desserts to beautiful meat sauce sandwiches. Her plate was topped full when she sat at her delegated table.

"Are you sure you're going to finish that?"

Usagi scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes, making a mental note to compliment the cook later, and gave Mamoru a dry look. "What do you think?" She thought he knew her better than that.

"You're right. What was I thinking?" He couldn't help but notice the way her eyes closed, and the groan that sounded from her mouth as she savoured each bite.

"Heavenly." A medal should be given out! "Wonderful!" And she didn't waste a second before shovelling up another bite. Her eyes strayed from her plate to her partner's and her brows shot up to her hairline. "Aren't you hungry? We were driving practically the whole day!"

"I don't have much of an appetite."

"Obviously." Lady-like, she set her fork aside and folded her hands in her lap, then fisted one and held it up. "Did you know that your stomach is the size of your fist?"

He was training to be a doctor, wasn't he? "I had no clue." But the kids seemed to be absorbed.

"It's true. And it expands when you eat, that's why we haven't exactly broken it yet." She looked to the children. "But once you're full, you shouldn't eat so much more or it just might start to split apart. Then you won't be able to eat again." That one wasn't the truth, but it was always good to tell tales tall enough to warn little people in warning for against something else. Like if you stay up too late, the monsters under your stairs might eat you. Something to that effect.

"Really?" A boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes as wide as owls looked at the plate of food in front of him. The owner bit his lip fretfully. He supposed that the bet he had going with his new friend wasn't going to turn up come to anything after all. His eyes turned down. He didn't want his stomach to explode after an over-eating contest, naturally. "I'm not hungry. Are we going swimming?"

"Tomorrow." Stabbing at the vegetables, she popped them into her mouth. "I hope you can swim. You CAN swim, right?" She eyed Mamoru devilishly.

He merely leered. "Captain of my high school swim team, Odango Atama."

She was somewhat disappointed that she wasn't able to beat him in something other than a food fest. "Hmm..." She'd have to think of something else. "Diving?"

"It comes with the title."

"Do you have any trophies?"

"Three."

"Bloody hell." Sighing, she rested her cheek on her propped up hand.

"Don't look so down. Just because I'm better at sports than you doesn't mean you're any less than you are."

She stuck out her tongue out at the insult, but only because she couldn't come up with any quick comeback. "I can do some things better than you probably." A sudden loss of appetite had her dropping her plate in a nearby trashcan.

"Sure, like making conversation," he said lightly, approaching his upcoming subject. "Which brings me to my next point."

"And that would be?"

"Who was that guy?" He hoped he sounded casual as he said it.

"Guy?"

"The one who handed you the program schedule."

"Oh!" Her eyes sparkled. "His name is Masao. He's one of the camp leaders here and he's directing the gold one. Right next to us, he says, so we'll probably see a lot of him." She turned on the bench towards him, ignoring the way his eyes seemed to darken to cobalt. "He's real friendly, too."

"It looked that way." Let's hope, for his sake, not too friendly. "A leader, you say? Does he have a partner?"

"Umm...I didn't ask. He didn't say anything. Why?"

"Just wondering."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do you want him to have a partner?" She hoped she sounded casual as she said it.

"It wouldn't hurt." No, it wouldn't hurt if 'Masao' had to keep his eyes on someone other than 'his' partner. Green eyes peeped out from nowhere, possessiveness clung to him like a second skin. Bemused, he'd make a point to think about that later, much later, when his feelings weren't constantly getting tangled in a web whenever he was around Usagi.

"We can go hiking."

"What?" His contemplation was brought immediately to a halt.

"For an option. We can go hiking."

"And I'm sure that'd be a fine idea, Odango, except for one thing."

Of course. There was always just one more thing. "What's that?"

"How are you at hiking in the dark?"

"Oh." Right, right. Cat vision wasn't for her and she was unreasonably pleased that it wasn't for her cohort either. At least there was one thing he wasn't good at. "What else is there?" she wondered, her finger trailing across the page.

A boy, Ken, piped up. "Fire!"

Usagi's eyes lessened in concentration. A brow rose. "Water." She ignored Mamoru's laugh.

"Can we bake marshmallows?"

"You don't bake marshmallows!" An eight-year-old stabbed with a roll of her eyes.

"I want to sing."

"At night?" A girl slunk in her seat. "There's things in the night."

"Stupid," another female scoffed. "Mamoru-san is there." She said it as if that'd explain everything.

Mamoru grinned. "Sure. I'll protect you." He made an enticing movement with his arm, gallant and armour-like, portraying a princely role. His look towards Usagi was one saying: see, I told you I was good with kids.

Hers was one waiting for the magic trick he claimed to have. Getting back on topic, she marked off "campfire" and nodded dutifully. "Maybe we should invite another group."

"Oh!" A brunette girl that was cutely petite jumped in her seat. "My friend went to another group."

The girl would be a heartbreaker when she grew up, Mamoru thought, and leaned forward. There were different types of children, he knew. The troublemaker, the clown, the shy and conforming one, and, if you were lucky, one combining all three. The one that made you wish you had children. The little girl was so enthused by her idea that his emotional system rallied through him, forcing him to feel an emotion that he hadn't felt in years. The wanting of a family.

Peculiarly enough, he oddly felt as if he belonged here, amongst children and beside Usa-

He choked, started hacking a cough as he bowed low on the table. His eyes enlarged tenfold as he gasped for air, pounding on his stomach while Usagi patted him on the back. By God, did he really think that? Did that thought really soar through his mind? He glimpsed at Usagi. Her eyes were all for him, concern filling them while he regained his composure ever so slowly. Usagi? Odango Atama? That one? Had he just imagined himself with her in the unknown future? Good Lord, it had to be the camp air that was getting to him, he reasoned. This was NOT happening. The day that he felt attracted to the little heathen was the day hell took a nosedive to below zero.

And, to hell with it all, he bet that they were building igloos down there right now.

"Are you okay, Mamoru-san?" she asked, forgetting herself. "What did you choke on? You weren't even eating? Well, isn't it just like you to choke on air. Mamoru?" Oh my God! He wasn't responding. What if he went into a spasm? She was ready to holler for the paramedics when his hand came up to her shoulder.

"Fine, fine. It was only a simple coughing fit." Yeah, right.

"Only a-" she placed her hand back in her lap, her eyes firing up. "Well the least you could have done was told me you weren't dying." She silently confirmed that he did it on purpose.

"When? Before or after I lost my breath?"

"Either, or." She sniffed, turning to look at the kids. "This is one primary example of what you 'don't' do in life," she wisely said. "Remember this."

Like students, they nodded.

Ken, eager, inclined towards Mamoru. "Were you dying?"

He would have laughed if his throat didn't hurt so much. Curse the rabbit! "Not especially."

"A little?" His eyes were hopeful. He'd seen movies, watched TV. If his counsellor almost died, that'd be like an adventure!

Boys will be boys. "Maybe a little."

"Cool!"

"Yes," Usagi agreed soberly. "And isn't it a pity that he just didn't just keel over?" Her tone was sweet and innocent, and her eyes were like a puppy dog's as they turned to Mamoru's suddenly lethal ones. And then her voice backed up in her throat as his hand calmly reached out to encircle her neck delicately. The first touch zapped bolts of electricity through her, and her system went incredibly still.

His thumb was gently massaging the skin at the back of her neck. Her pulse was beating hard against his hand as he kept his eyes level on hers. Even as the children went on unaware, her body moved instinctively to the rhythm of his kneading.

Mamoru's body responded just the same. "Is it?"

---

His head was dizzy, his mouth was dry, and it smelled like fuckin' horse manure. As the sound of a trumpet from the main camp announced wake-up call, eight-o-clock, Mamoru turned over in the single bed, pulled the sheets around him tighter, and began murmuring away into the land of...

"Mamoru!"

The banging at the door rang true in his ears, sounding larger than life. A growl could have ripped from his throat if he had had the energy, but instead he forced himself to open his eyes, throw back the covers, and stomp right over to the door to fling it open. Curses were at the tip of his tongue and ready to attack the intruder of dreams. He just wished he didn't have to attack so early.

But instead of an intruder, Usagi stood there, gawking at him like a fish. She'd seen him yesterday with a semi-open shirt and had rated his physique a good 10+! But now, as she stood there, studying the whole upper body that was set out for the whole bloody world to see, she bumped that 10+ up to a...a...

She didn't think there was ever a number good enough for what her innocent little eyes were witnessing.

As the girls giggled from behind her, thoughts cleared instantly and she reprimanded herself with displeasure. Sucking in her breath she let herself meet Mamoru's stormy eyes and her mouth shut quickly once again for what she saw there. The concentration, the force, the power, it was all mixed so intensely. There, reacting to her. She smiled knowingly. She made the man irritated.

"What?" He had tried for a few seconds to calm himself, and it had barely worked as he snapped out the question.

"I thought I'd never see the day that Chiba Mamoru of Tokyo would sleep in. Getting lazy, are we?" She fingered the whistle around her neck. "Better watch out or you'll turn that..." -muscle-tight stomach, hard abdomen, attractively carved body- "carcass into a swell of fat."

"Sleeping in? I-" She had him there. He ran a hand timidly through his ruffled hair, at ease topless. "And you're up on time," he stated, because that's all his half-asleep mind would tolerate.

"I'm up when it's important."

"School's not important?"

"Not when you've got math every day first period. Now hurry up." She clapped her hands. "I want to get started. And the girl's wanna go swimming." Ignoring the intimate feeling that seemed to drop in her from his exposed chest, she slipped past him and held the whistle up to her lips. Blew.

And the boys of Mamoru's troops were suddenly rigid and astonished like the first bomb in World War Three had just gone off. Satisfied, Usagi ordered them to dress in less than ten minutes and spun on her heel, bumping into the rock hardness of her enemy's chest. She nearly groaned.

So did he, but he didn't show it. "Tsukino, must you always aggravate me so?"

She blinked. The leadership that had shone in her only moments ago turned into sincere surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Such elegancy, he thought. "You do notice that you're in the men's' cabin, don't you? Now out." Shooing her to the door, he leaned on the jam. "We males have our pride."

"You have your egos. There's a difference," she drawled.

"Whichever you care to name, sweetheart. See you in ten." Shutting the screen, closing the interior door, he leaned heavily against it. Her cheeks had been flushed from sleep, her eyes as bright as the sun. He couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like to wake up to that every morning.

Not questioning his own thoughts, since he'd learned that it was of no use anymore, he streaked to his bed and made it up. As he dressed his mind wandered to the night before. It was crazy, he thought then, that he hadn't known that the little rabbit could play a guitar. Not professional, but better than anyone he knew of. They'd only been stuck together for twenty-four hours, and already he was learning too much about her. Where once he only thought she had flaws, now he could imagine those flaws illuminating her outstanding qualities. And then there was that voice. He sighed unaware. He should have expected that she could sing with the way she practiced her voice wails everyday.

Heaven help him, he thought, he just might be falling for the girl.

Taken aback at the thought, he shook it out. No way, no how. Standing up, he ushered the boys out of the cabin, reminding them pointedly to bring their suits because they were heading straight to the change rooms after breakfast.

The morning air filled the atmosphere, idly whisking across his face when he came through the door. Usagi stood in the centre of the small clan, pointing out which way they were going, where the waterhole was -in case some forgot-and biting her lip when plenty of kids complained about their bladder problems.

"Hold it until we get to camp," Mamoru said, languidly strolling over to the group. "You're big kids, aren't you?"

Many boys puffed out their chests evidentially, and girls' eyes gleamed for the counsellor. Guess that saying still went, "I'm a big kid now," and that's all children seemed to want to be. Him, he'd rather wait for his second childhood, since he missed out on the first one.

Shadows skimmed over his face before he could mask them. In their own little worlds the children ran up ahead, shouting, laughing, demanding attention. But Usagi, walking beside Mamoru, did notice. Something was hidden deep within him; she wasn't so stupid not to notice that other people had problems, which most of the time they'd rather have left alone. However, she knew the average present problems were small compared to the emotional scars he appeared to be carrying. The emotion in his eye told her so, and told her that it was hidden much too deep. The urge to reach for his hand and soothe was overwhelming, and her body forced her to shift aside a bit. A yelp sounded from her throat when she tripped over a root of a tree, and went flying.

Her body twisted around instinctively, reaching for something to grab a hold of. When all she grabbed was nothing but air, she braced herself for the fall. She didn't hit the ground, though. Her back was bowed backwards; her arms flung apart; her feet unsteadily planted on the ground. Fortified bands were wrapped around her waist, heated breath fluttering over hers. Opening one tightly squeezed eyelid, Mamoru's face was all she saw, and the bands around her waist were the only things keeping her from falling on her rear.

"I'm glad to see one thing is still constant," Mamoru murmured honestly.

She watched him, unsure. "Are you calling me clutzy?"

"You were always a klutz," he said, but he didn't let go. Not yet.

"Oh. Okay." She felt slightly out of breath. "Same goes."

"Hmm?"

"You're a klutz," she said.

"I'm a..." She was too close. "Klutz?" he asked, confused.

"Your foot," she reasoned.

"What about it?"

"Well, it's..." Her eyes wandered down his leg that disappeared in a puddle of mud. "Ya missed the ground, pal." Her mouth quirked up, her eyes looking on inoffensively.

Well, he guessed that a simple act of heroism wasn't going to put him on the good list of the fates after all. With an oath he was ready to pull both of them away when he caught the devilish gleam in his partner's eye, the muffled giggles emitting from her shapely lips. "Think it's funny, do you?"

She shook her head, couldn't stop the snort and brought both hands up to push it down.

"Well, now." His tongue slipped slowly over his teeth as he examined her, his own malicious glimmer twinkling in his eyes. "What do you think about this?" And without another word, dropped her in the thick mud puddle, her gasp of shock like music to his ears.

"You-you-" She never thought he'd have the nerve!

"Yes?" His foot was dripping with mud, but it was nothing compared to what how much the muck was covering her. And where. Smiling, he rocked back on his heels, turning his head towards the children. Amazing how they instantly knew when to stop. When to gape. When she stammered he sophisticatedly shook his head. "You're sputtering now, Odango. It isn't proper."

"I'll show you proper!"

Before she could make a cluck of the tongue, footsteps sounded beside them. Turning, they both watched in equal stillness as Masao made his way down the path with his small co-ed group of children. To Serena, she couldn't help but wonder if he woke up looking so well. To Mamoru, he was just another fly to be squashed.

No one voiced their opinions.

"Hello there!" His hand came up in a wave, eyes drifting to Usagi's. "Trouble, milady?"

"Nothing we can't take care of." Mamoru said coolly, but let his lips curve up into a polite smile.

Usagi stuck her tongue out at him, then looked to Masao. "Can you help me? I..." she looked down at herself, "seem to be in a bit of a mess. Hey," she warned one of her camper's. "Take one step in this mud puddle and you'll regret it, kid."

The boy pouted. Mamoru, sympathetically, patted him on the head. "We'll be at the lake soon."

Masoa held out his hand to her, dipping down almost princely. "Something so beautiful should not grow in such filth." His voice was light, carrying a British accent that seemed ancient, reminding Usagi of Shakespeare. It seemed almost romantic, though even Usagi's hopelessly romantic heart didn't melt.

Curious, that it would melt from a mocking from Mamoru, and start only a bit at a heartfelt comment from Masao? Even more curious was the fact that she didn't take two moments to question it. Pulling slightly on his hand, she gave a tipsy smile and gained her balance. She gave a glance at Mamoru, ready to smirk, but blinked at the dark frown he was giving her and forced herself not to take a step back.

"What is it?"

This time he blinked. Shaking his head at the tension, he turned his eyes to Masao's, and felt more comfortable giving a warning glare to him. "Breakfast will be over soon, Usagi. Let's get going." He took her hand-not her arm, not her elbow-her hand, and started ordering the kids to follow along, announcing to the smug and pleased Masao that they'd see him later -maybe.

He called her by her name. As they walked she stared up at him, jaw open, eyes disbelieving. He called HER by her name. Always was it Odango Atama, and sometimes Odango, which she was sure was not an endearment as her friends always taunted and teased her about. Was it just her, she wondered, or did it sound so...loving on his lips now? She didn't argue with the suddenly familiar urge to hope that, indeed, it sounded just like that.

His face was turned down as he listened attentively to one of the smaller girls describe with rapidly waving hands the story of the spider in her mother's jewellery box. The light that spilled from the constant opening of the trees touched the side of his face, so part of it was shadowed towards her, giving him a darker, more dangerous, and rougher look. The same look he'd had when she-she couldn't help but smile -had wakened him earlier that morning. However his eyes were soft as they landed on the child, his laugh deep and affectionate as he placed a hand on her head, and the girl reached up anxiously to hold is hand. Without question he took it.

And she took the first headlong step in the beginning of the silky slide into love, somehow knowing she had been on her way all along.

Turning her eyes to her feet, she didn't tug her hand out of his grip, nor did he let go of hers. Silently, she wondered what the hell she was going to do about it.