A Love So Blind
By: Icesyvey
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"Usako, I don't understand why you stay with him," Chiba. Mamoru said as he finished sewing up the gash in his best friend's arm.

Usagi Niwa looked at Mamoru as he bandaged her wrist in soft, white gauze. She could tell he was upset as his hands were shaking when he tightened the cloth bound to her injury. Then he lifted a swab with disinfectant to her eyebrow and began to dab at the small cut there. Usagi winced, drawing back instinctively.

"Sorry Usako, if I don't clean this it will become infected," Mamoru said.

Usagi noticed that Mamoru Chiba – the man she had been best friends with since she had visited her mother in the hospital at the age of six – was using his doctor's voice was using his doctor's voice. It was also the voice he used when he was controlling his temper.

"You didn't answer me, Usako," he said as he placed a piece of tape over the injured eyebrow to hold the cut together.

Usagi realized she was tired and she didn't want to get into this conversation again. Her face ached from the bruises – some old, though most of them were new. She looked into Mamoru's midnight-colored eyes and knew that he was not going to let her leave without an answer. Usagi also knew there was nothing she could tell him that he would understand, or accept.

"Mamo-chan, please. I hurt and don't feel like getting into this with you again," She (she) said, pleading with her friend to leave her alone. It wasn't to be, Usagi could see as the pulse in Mamoru's neck speed up as he clenched his jaw in anger and frustration.

"Usako..." Mamoru paused and took a couple deep, calming breaths as he stood up from his bed. He then started to pack away his first-aid kit before he dared speak again.

They weren't in a hospital because Usagi refused to be treated in one. So Mamoru had started keeping suture kits and extra gauze in his apartment. He looked at the small woman perched on the edge of his king sized bed; she looked ready to run. At the age of twenty-two(comma) Usagi was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, though at the moment(comma) her face looked like so much raw meat. The hand that was holding the suture needle involuntarily closed in a fist.

"Mamo-chan, you're bleeding."

Mamoru looked down. Sure enough, he had pushed the sharp-needle into his palm, drawing blood. He cursed and removed the needle. He carefully avoided looking at the woman on the bed again as he bandaged his own hand this time. Puncture wounds hurt.

Usagi watched Mamoru carefully; she knew he was becoming increasingly upset over the situation. She looked at her bandaged arm. Just another scar to add to the count, she thought sadly. Mamoru wanted to know why Usagi stayed with her husband. But she couldn't give him an answer that didn't make her sound insane. She loved Demando; it was as simple as that.

Usagi gathered up the long, heavy coat she had brought with her. She slipped it on and pulled the hood up. She picked up her purse and car keys, and then looked at Mamoru. He was sitting on his bed again, staring at her. She knew he wanted her to explain her actions, but she couldn't. Not to him. She moved over to him slowly and leaned down to kiss his cheek. She wasn't surprised when he drew back, avoiding the kiss. Not surprised, but it still hurt.

"Thank you, Mamo-chan," Usagi said as she backed toward the door of his bedroom.

Mamoru said nothing and instead simply watched her walk out of the room. He was afraid that if he answered her, or even opened his mouth, he would scream at her. A couple seconds later, he heard his front door close. Mamoru closed his eyes and threw himself backwards onto the bed. He didn't understand her, especially not about this. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts were dark as he remembered the time just last year when he had first found out...

"Code blue at the ambulance bay. Following trauma unit please respond," a voice said over the intercom

Mamoru looked to his friend Jedite. The blond man nodded and stood. The two doctors ran toward the ambulance docking area. He watched as the medics wheeled the gurney off the rig. At first, Mamoru could only see blood-matted blonde hair and pale skin streaked with blood and dirt.

'Poor thing,' he thought as he moved forward to listen to the medics

"She was found in her own front yard. She flat-lined in the rig," one of the medics reported to Mamoru.

Mamoru looked at the bloody face and felt his heart lurch for the woman. He looked down and the patient's left hand and noticed that three of the fingers were badly broken. So badly in fact that the finger holding her wedding band was crushed and would probably need surgery to heal correctly. He felt rage grow inside of him. Working in the emergency room, he saw his fair share of domestic violence cases and he would never understand how a man – or a woman for that matter – could abuse those weaker than themselves.

"Dr. Chiba, another trauma is coming in," one of the nurses told him.

Mamoru nodded to Jedite and stopped following the gurney. He turned and headed back down the hall, stripping off the blood spattered paper gown as he walked. The woman couldn't have been older than twenty-one, he thought as he instructed the other trauma team to prep for the arrival.

Jedite watched at Mamoru went to take care of the other trauma, then he looked down at the beaten girl on the stretcher. His insides tightened with anger at the man who had done this to her. Like Mamoru, Jedite believed all life was precious.

"Clear!"

Jedite stepped back as the head doctor tried to shock the woman's heart back to life. He watched the flat line blip for a second then flatten again.

"Clear!"

Another blip and then a whine as the machine told them the woman's heart was still not beating.

"Clear!"

After an immeasurable amount of time past, the woman's heart started back up again. Jedite and the rest of the trauma team moved in, and he helped nurses clean the woman of the blood that coated her. He ran the sterile cloths over her face and froze; he was staring down at a very familiar face.

"Do not let Dr. Chiba into this room!" "Jadeite looked around quickly to make sure that Mamoru hadn't come in to help. Not seeing his friend near, Jedite turned to a nurse and barked, "Do not let Dr. Chiba into this room!"

The nurse stared at Jedite like he had just started speaking in tongues. Why wouldn't the blond doctor want Dr. Chiba in the trauma room? She opened her mouth to ask when the look in the doctor's eyes stopped her. Paling, she turned on her heal and went to intercept Dr. Chiba."

Jedite sighed and reminded himself to apologize to the poor nurse later. He turned back to look at the battered face of Usagi Niwa. Undoubtedly, this was Usagi, Mamoru's best friend and his friend as well. He began to stitch her up as quickly as his fingers would move without making a mistake.
'Please don't die, Usa-chan,' Jedite thought as he watched the rise and fall of Usagi's chest.

Mamoru jerked awake as his pager went off. He hit the button to show the number and groaned. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but he was emotionally drained after taking care of Usagi earlier. He stumbled into his bathroom and turned on the light, wincing in pain the sudden brightness caused. He took a good look at his pale, gaunt reflection and made a face.

"You look like hell," he told his reflection.

"A short time later found him at the emergency room of Tokyo General Hospital. He saw the blond head of his other best friend Jedite and he ducked into the staff room before the doctor could question him about his haggard appearance." Mamoru splashed water on his face and moved into the lobby. He smiled to Jadeite's wife, Rei, as she handed him a stack of clipboards.

Mamoru went through his rounds, checking off each patient he saw and filling out their charts. It was a pretty normal night: see patient 'so and so,' fill out the chart, hang it outside the door, or release them as the situation needed. When Mamoru finally had a break in his patients, he made his way towards the staff room. He glanced at his watch, frowning. It was close to ten in the morning, and he couldn't help but think of his friend at that moment. Usagi had left his apartment at three, meaning she had been home for nearly seven hours. He just couldn't shake the horrible feeling he had.

As if to confirm his fears, a familiar voice cried out from near the glass doors behind him. "Someone help us! My Daughter! Please!"

Both Jedite and Mamoru spun around to see the frail form of Kenji Tsukino, Usagi's father. Kenji's shirt was soaked in blood and it took the two doctors a few seconds to realize that the older man held a bundle in his arms.

"Get a trauma room ready!" Mamoru shouted at a nurse.

Not looking to see if the nurse obeyed, he moved forward and almost fainted as he confirmed that the bundle in Kenji's arms was really Usagi. Mamoru lifted the beaten woman from her father's grip, and then turned on his heals and ran for one of the trauma rooms. Jedite led Kenji to the staff room and poured him a cup of coffee.

"What happened, Kenji?" Jedite asked the older man.

Kenji trembled but remained silent as he stared at the mug of black coffee. Jedite had handed to him.

Mamoru trembled and his knees felt weak as he tried to fall the normal routine of helping his patient. But, this wasn't just a patient; it was Usagi, his best friend. Her heart rate was so low that scared him, and a sucking sound was heard every time she inhaled. Mamoru was kicking himself for not making her stay at his place, for not having Kunzite - another friend of his - arrest Demando Niwa after the first time.

Time seemed to pass like years as Mamoru worked. Every time he stopped the bleeding in one area, he found more problems elsewhere. He was sweating and covered in her blood; she had lost so much blood... After forever – or in reality, only five hours – he stared blankly at the whining heart monitor. He hadn't been able to stop the bleeding, it had just kept coming. The trauma room was a bloody mess as most of the ER had come to help put the beaten girl back together. Blood was everywhere, the floor, the sheets, the clothes of the nurses and himself. Everywhere…

I'll call it," one of the doctors said, glancing at a clock. "Time of death: fifteen-hundred hours, twelve minutes."

Mamoru felt his own heart stop at the announcement. Blood rushed to his ears and the room spun and swayed as he tried to stay conscious. He hadn't been able to save her; Usagi had died because he had not been able to stop her from returning home.

"I…I'll tell the family," Mamoru said in a empty voice.

He could feel the trauma team's worry; the normally stoic doctor looked like he would have a break down.

If asked later, Mamoru wouldn't be able to recall the walk from the trauma room to the lobby. Nor would he be able to remember Usagi's mother collapsing into Kenji's arms. Or Rei's wail of anguish as Jedite comforted her. Nor would he be able to remember the details of the arrest of one Demando Niwa.

-Two weeks later-

Mamoru was lying on his stomach in his bed. His face – which had been gaunt before – was practically skeletal and his clothes hung off him, wrinkled and unwashed. In his hand was a dirty, crumbled envelope that he had been scared to open. They had found the letter addressed to him in Usagi's belongings. He stared at it with blurry eyes.

He was exhausted and sore. He hadn't moved from his bed except to use the bathroom. He rarely ate or drank anything except when Jedite or Rei came over and forced him to. In fact Mamoru had only moved from his bed when he had to use the bathroom, or when Jedite and Rei had come to try and make him eat. He pushed himself up on the bed and sat cross-legged, in the middle, his joints groaning and creaking from the strain. He stared at the letter again, and then with trembling hands, he opened it.

Dearest Mamo-chan,

You asked me before why I stayed with Demando. The truth is that I simply love him. I suppose I love him unconditionally. I was once told by my grandmother, 'Love is blind.' In this case I guess it's true. I hope someday you can look at me again without the worry in your eyes. I will wait for that day, Mamo-chan.

Yours,
Usagi

Mamoru felt like he was going to cry, but the tears had dried up the week before, after the funeral. Or maybe during it, but there was not enough moisture in Mamoru's body to let the tears fall that tore at his heart.

'Love is blind…'

There had never been a truer statement.