sillage: (n) the wake or trail left in the sky by an airplane or on the water by a boat; the trace of someone's perfume; the scent that lingers in the air long after something or someone has been there before you and gone
So, guys, this fic is in answer to a prompt. I offered to write a fic for the holidays as a collective gift to all of you on tumblr. Obviously, my time is limited, and so I can't write more than one. Because of that, I asked for prompts. So that I could choose one and write a story that you could all share. I got many great ones, but the prompt I chose for this came from mamaladyKT (I'll tell you what the prompt was in the endnotes, as to not spoil anything!)
Alas, what you need to know: This fic is set post-Stars, and the fic itself and all characterizations in it this time are firmly rooted in 90s anime!verse – and you should know your way around the Sailor Stars season, otherwise this fic will probably give you nothing. If you haven't seen it, I bet a summary of the events suffices, mayybeee? I hope so xD
(Also if you are the biggest Seiya hater in the fandom, maybe this fic is also not to your liking. Since, ya know, I love Seiya, and this fic has him in it in a way. (Even if it's still Usamamo, lol, don't worry guys, I'm not changing ship in this.) In that case, I'm sorry, the next story I'll write will probably be more of a fic for you!)
One last note on Japanese holiday traditions: It's customary in Japan to do the equivalent of a giant spring clean on New Year's Eve, and before the new year in general. This is being done so not a speck and smudge of dirt of the last year may soil or contaminate the new year. It's seen as an act of purification, of readying yourself and your home for the new year. I like the image of this, and let them do a little "coming clean" as well.
Either way. HAPPY HOLIDAYS, GUYS! Let me know what you thought of this!
Sillage
A Fic Written for Flora's Festive Fanservice on Tumblr
Juuban-dori felt festive this time of year. Even when one celebration was currently being swapped out for the next.
They strolled along it, hand in hand, their steps leaving traces in the thin layer of freshly fallen snow and breaths puffing into the air like little clouds that mingled where they met.
In one of the windows, a salesman replaced the tacky neon Santa for an ornately crafted sign for Omisoka. New Year's Eve was approaching fast, and with it, most of the quite untraditional Christmas decorations started to be replaced with more traditional ones signaling the coming of the new year.
The fairy lights still stayed, of course. And Usa loved them so.
"Can't we do something Christmas-y, still, Mamo-chan?" Usagi tugged on his arm.
He threw a pointed look at the falling Santa, and the window being stripped of all traces of Christmas, but placated her anyway.
"What would you like to do?"
"I dunno." She shrugged. "Go shopping?"
"We went shopping yesterday. And you'll be going fukubukuro shopping with Minako in the new year."
She hrmphed. "We could go eat KFC. Oooh, let's go get Christmas cake!"
"Isn't KFC a little out of our way?" he asked.
Usagi pouted, tugged on his arm.
"Well, we can go see if Lawson's still has Christmas cake? I mean, really, we could get any cake…" he said.
Usagi rolled her eyes but pulled on his sleeve to get him to come with her. "You're not really being festive, Mamo-chan."
He threw another pointed look at the next Santa replacement in the next window, but followed dutifully after her. She'd changed course for Lawson's.
"I still have to write all my New Year's cards," Usagi said, catching sight of the redecorations as well. Then she groaned. "And Shingo and I need to deep-clean our bedrooms and help Mama and Papa with the living room… blerghhhh."
He chuckled at her. It was the same every year. The thorough cleaning of the home before New Year's Eve, so no dirt might soil the new year, was a Japanese tradition not to Usagi's liking.
He'd already cleaned every last nook and cranny of his apartment on the day of Christmas Eve, just before he'd met Usagi for their annual Christmas date. On New Year's Eve, he'd only have to do a small brush up, and he'd be good.
Usagi, meanwhile, looked absolutely miserable at even the thought of the task.
He poked her playfully in the side. "You sure you'll even manage to get your room cleaned until New Year's Eve?"
She jabbed him right back, her face flushing, and he chuckled once more. "Just you wait. Next year, it'll be your bedroom all my stuff is cluttering."
He missed a step and halted.
She blushed immediately. "Um... sorry. I mean. Only if you..."
He swallowed thickly, before he grasped her hand, squeezed it, and smiled.
Next year, Usagi would be 18. Next year, she'd finish school. It would be a good year for him. Really, he couldn't wait for it to come.
Mamoru didn't notice that when Usagi smiled back, it didn't look quite as carefree as the one before had been.
"So, you still need to write your cards, you said?" he asked, changing the topic.
Beside them, one of the bigger SUVs that really didn't belong into narrow, Japanese streets had some trouble navigating the first snow and drove painfully slowly, while their shoes on the ground made dull crunching sounds on the fluffy white puffs.
Usagi pulled a face. "I haven't even finished making my presents."
Mamoru chuckled, tucked one arm around her.
"New Year's Eve is in five days, Usako," he said.
"I knoooow," she groaned.
Usako, Dec 28th, 01:34 am
Can I use your scanner?
Mamoru, Dec 28th, 01:37 am
Of course. Why are you still awake?
It was two days later, and way earlier than he would ever expect her in the mornings, that she came bounding into his apartment holding several boxes of knickknacks and paper clippings and Polaroids and photos and sketches.
He'd trudged to the door confused, in grey sweatpants and bedhead – she usually didn't ring the bell – and blinked, surprised, as Hurricane Usagi barged past him into his living room, and before he had the chance to even snort into his coffee cup, had started spreading out little piles of photos and pictures and stickers everywhere, before opening up her pink laptop.
"I got about 3 hours to finish this," she announced. "I need to upload it by 11 o'clock so they can still all be printed in time."
His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"The photo albums!" she supplied, voice a little annoyed that he would not remember what she'd never told him, but the tenseness in her shoulders told him not to point that out. "For the girls!"
"Ah," he said instead.
And then he'd shown her how to use his scanner, installed the driver on her laptop so she didn't have to hook up any cables, and left her to flutter about his apartment as he padded into his bathroom to take his morning shower.
He let the hot water pummel down onto his tense shoulders, and he breathed out a relaxing sign as the scolding water worked out some of the kinks.
He ran his hands through his wet hair, throwing it back to raise his face to the spray of the shower.
Outside, Usagi shrieked, and something fell.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile.
It did feel nice, he had to confess. Having her here on a free day, hearing her fluttering about while he went through his routine. It felt… right.
When he emerged a little later, back in his sweatpants but nothing else, rubbing a towel through his damp hair that smelled a little too much of shampoo, he could not suppress the smirk at the look on Usagi's face as she stood, Polaroids raised, ogling his chest.
"You're not playing fair," she said.
"I never said I would," he said, winking.
Yet, he slipped into his bedroom, and to his dismay, she didn't follow, and he slipped on a white T-shirt before re-joining her in the living room.
This time, she spared him no glance as she cursed at the screen.
He sat down on his couch, wriggling into the cushions, in the way that he could see her face over her laptop screen as she worked, and occasionally walked back and forth between his scanner and her laptop, and he picked up his designated book for a day.
Yes, this was a very good day.
Three and a half chapters later, Usagi threw her hands up in the air and whooped loudly, startling him from his sunken state. His eyes flicked to the digital clock on his stereo behind her. 10:49. She'd made it.
"Do you wanna see?" she beamed at him, all dimple and sparkling eyes, and he dropped his book, forgetting to add a bookmark.
He didn't answer her, simply nodded, and slipped from his couch and onto his knees next to her at the coffee table, sneaking his arm around her form almost unnoticed, and she closed the upload window and pulled up an open folder.
Four documents and their previews lay in it. Named Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako. The cover of each showed an identical and rather adorable hand-drawn picture of the five girls in Usagi's cute drawing style, engulfed in a giant red heart; the physical copy of which lay currently on his coffee table.
He blinked, rather impressed.
She opened up Minako's document. Clicked through it. It was, indeed, a photo album. Personalized, though the base, Usagi explained, was the same photo album for all four of them, just a little more emphasis on certain things here and there. And the little scanned doodles and stickers and notes that were interlaced through it were all individual.
He blinked harder. This was beautiful work.
It had started out with photos he didn't know. And little by little, the scenes became familiar. He'd been there for a lot of them.
"You did all of this in three hours?" he asked, flabbergasted, clicking on. He came upon a picture that must have been a couple years old, and showed them all, him included, at that school sports festival where they all cheered on Chibi-Usa leapfrogging. He stopped at it shortly. It was rare to see himself in pictures – he didn't like to have his photo taken. Yet, here he was, next to Usagi and Chibi-Usa, mostly, but sometimes next to Ami, here and there.
"Of course not," she answered, and his eyes flicked to hers. He'd almost forgotten what he'd asked. There was a cute little note with Usagi's tiny adorable doodled face, next to a photo of Minako in a denim overall, completely exhausted in front of a pillar, a guy on each side of it.
Ah, right. That time Minako had two-timed the enemy… He remembered that.
"I did it all of last week," Usagi said, snuggling against his side. "I only now added the drawings and notes, plus some photos I don't have digitally, is all."
"Right," he said distractedly, and clicked on.
It was really an amazing photo album. Filled to the brim with affection and the love Usagi held for her friends. It was beautiful. He didn't have the words to express how moving this was. The little doodles, the notes, the smiles and blushes that beamed at him from the pages. So, instead of saying it, he clicked on ahead.
Abruptly, the scenes he knew ended. His finger stilled slightly. Usagi in her high school uniform. This was when he'd died…
He clicked on. Started frowning when the same three boys he knew to be the Sailor Starlights appeared in them again, and again.
He blinked hard at the next one, couldn't help the relieved drop in his stomach, swallowed it down. "Minako dated Seiya?"
It was badly focused and crookedly shot pictures of what seemed to look like Minako and Seiya kissing behind the school building.
Usagi giggled. "Ah, no. She actually pretended to have something in her eye there. She'd made me take the pictures, so she could sell them to the press and pretend to be Seiya's girlfriend," Usagi said, shoulders shaking in remembrance and mirth.
He threw her a look. "Weren't you all friends?" he asked. He didn't know why it sounded so awkward.
But Usagi didn't seem to notice. She answered nonchalantly as always. "We were, yes. But a little later, I'd say. This was right before Minako had promoted herself to be their 'manager'," she said, and giggled again.
"Right," he said.
He clicked on a little faster, without even really noticing. Except when he did, and frowned at himself for wanting to brush this episode of her life that he had no part of away with a click of a touchpad.
It wasn't easy, though. Because the section did not seem to end.
Seiya, obviously, had no qualms about getting his picture taken. There were tons of photos of him. Or her? He didn't know how Seiya wanted to be addressed. But he was everywhere.
Pictures of him and Usagi playing softball, Usagi and him high-fiving in the air in a way that looked like holding hands. The girls cheering in the background. He scrolled on.
Pictures of Usagi snorting in laughter as Seiya leaned towards her in class, in his seat behind her, the look in his eyes mischievous. As if he'd just told her a dirty joke.
The guys dancing in a studio, the girls huddled in the background watching.
He clicked it all away.
Of course, rationally, he knew there were exactly as many photos in this section of the album as there had been of, say, Haruka in her Mugen uniform and at race courses, all of them at a concert of Michiru's, picnics with Hotaru, and yet… to him, this seemed to be endless.
Somehow, seeing this… He hadn't realized the big part Seiya had played in her life. And these pictures…
While Mamoru had been dead, Seiya had made her laugh. He got to sit behind her during class. They got to cram for tests together or despair over them together. They cheered each other on. They...
He grew quiet. Crossed his arms.
There weren't any pictures of any times where Mamoru had made Usagi laugh like this…
He didn't want to be jealous. There was nothing at all to be jealous for.
There was a picture of a joint concert with Michiru and the Three Lights. And then the next one... all of them, literally all of them except him –playing cards and eating cake in the Tsukino household, almost like a party...
He clicked the little x. Closed the window.
"They're beautiful," he said. His voice was cracking. "You did a wonderful job."
Usagi's look grew concerned, but he put his hand on his knee and awkwardly lifted himself off the floor.
"The girls will be very happy to get such a thoughtful gift," he said.
Usagi looked confused. "Don't you want to see the other albums?"
Mamoru swallowed. "I'm fine, thanks."
Usagi's eyes looked hurt. He turned his gaze away, cleared his throat.
"Did you need anything else?" he asked after standing stupidly in the middle of the room for a beat of silence.
Usagi took the cue with widening eyes. She scrambled to put the Polaroids and sketches and notes back in the little boxes.
He closed the door after her without so much as a hug, let alone a kiss goodbye. Mumbling something about needing to deep-clean for New Year's.
They both knew he'd long done that, of course.
She'd forgotten one sketch in his scanner. It was a group picture she'd drawn. One that had no physical counterpart. All the girls were in it, including Chibi-Usa. He was in it. And so were the Three Lights.
He turned it face down and pushed it underneath a pile of documents.
Mamoru sulked for one and a half days.
When he returned from the conbini, and his answering machine blinked again, he felt the mix of guilt and petty jealousy coil through his skin again.
"Um, Hi, Mamo-chan… It's me… again. Listen, if I said something wrong, I'm … so sorry? Please, um… Mama asks if you still want to join us tomorrow for New Year's? We've been making osechi, and Shingo and I are cleaning down the house and I'd… really like to see you, Mamo-chan. Call me back, ok?"
He left the apartment before the message had started replaying.
Motoki broke into a big smile, when Mamoru entered through the sliding doors at Crown. His smile turned into a frown, though, when Mamoru sat in his usual stool with a giant sigh.
"Everything alright?" Motoki asked. Fake fir branches covered in red velvet ribbons were piled next to him and ready to be replaced with fresh pine twigs in ornate, decorative kadomatsu embellishments, as well as mochibana willow branches.
It took him a round of awkward small talk that Motoki saw right through, and a sip of the rich, bitter coffee he'd been provided with, to finally start talking about what he'd come here for so full of cowardice.
He really knew he ought to talk to Usagi, instead. But he couldn't help the feeling of shame around merely thinking these questions. For now, Motoki was safer.
After all, Motoki knew what is was like to be … long distance.
Mamoru drummed his fingers against the counter nervously, before he spoke with his eyes downcast. "I know it's been awhile, but… How was Usagi, when I was... uh…" he broke off with a frown "…at Harvard."
Motoki's hands stilled where they'd been transferring fake fir into white trash bags. "Where is this coming from?"
Motoki's eyes were full of suspicion. Full of questions he obviously battled with himself if he should ask them or not.
Mamoru simply held his stare, until Motoki finally relented and just answered his question instead.
"Honestly?" Motoki said with a sigh, meeting Mamoru's eye as his hands once again moved over the branches, breaking them into manageable pieces. "I've no idea…."
Mamoru's eyebrows rose, he was ready to protest, but Motoki elaborated with a shrug.
"Basically, Usagi wasn't here that half a year."
Mamoru's eyes flew to Motoki's in confusion and almost accusation. As if Motoki didn't tell the truth, or if he did, like it had been somehow Motoki's fault. Motoki held his hands up defensively immediately, without Mamoru needing to say as much as a word.
"Well," Motoki continued, a little quicker, "for one, she hung out a lot with those pop idol boys that had transferred to her class at that time. Probably more fun than good ol' me."
And with that, Mamoru's shoulders slumped, and his whole posture became heavier.
Motoki cocked his head sideways. No doubt reading things in him that Mamoru didn't really want to be read right now.
Mamoru's voice did that embarrassing, telling croak, once more, when he spoke.
"How were they?"
Motoki turned his whole body to him, let the twigs be twigs, and suddenly, his expression turned less guarded, more sympathetic. He answered right away, this time, voice turning a little lower, a little gentler.
"A bit cocky I'd say," Motoki said. "Definitely didn't lack self-confidence. But they were famous after all, you know. I do wonder where they went, really."
Mamoru's eyes returned to his cup, when he nodded.
"But…" Motoki started, and Mamoru met his eyes again.
They'd turned this rather apologetic hue. The way Motoki looked when he was dishing out uncomfortable truths, and Mamoru instinctively braced himself for what was coming.
Except, in his jealous state, he'd completely misjudged what was coming.
"Really, I think I didn't see her because I reminded her too much that you weren't here," Motoki said. "Or this place did. Or both."
Mamoru blinked in surprise and lifted his head.
Motoki shrugged one shoulder and threw him that apologetic look again. "She missed you terribly. Her smile wasn't the same. Thank god you cut your stay short."
Eyes flew back to his cup. "Uh... right," Mamoru said.
Later, when he'd exited the Crown, assured Motoki rather unconvincingly that everything was ok, he was just in a weird mood, he'd intended to walk home. Or call her. Or both. He really did.
But somehow, he found himself dragging up the long, high, stony steps to Hikawa Shrine.
Unsurprisingly, December 30th was a busy day and evening at the Shinto shrine. One would think that the days prior to New Year's Eve should be a little calmer, seeing as it was still two days away from the very busiest days of the year for all the temples and shrines across Japan, but obviously, the charms sold at Juuban's rather infamous shrine were a sought-after well-wishing gift for the New Year, a time were unfinished business and old grievances were not to tarnish the new one.
Rei was there in her miko garb, handing out blessings and fortunes and charms. She looked exhausted, even when the shrine was quite obviously quieting down and closing down for the day right along with the last purple rays of the setting sun. He could hear her grandpa yelling something after the group of girls that walked back down the stone steps, could see Yuichiro sweep the grounds to the left of the looming torii gate, could hear the clapping and rattling of the bells as a group of people made their prayers.
Rei jumped, when she turned around, and found him standing there with his back hunched and his hands buried deep in his pockets.
"Good grief, Mamoru," she hissed, hand flying to her chest, "don't do that!"
"Don't do what?" he asked, shoulders raised.
"Sneak up on me like that!" Rei said, eyes accusatory.
"I didn't!" He held up his arms in surrender.
"Of course you did!"
But her shoulders relaxed even when she rolled her eyes, and he found her turning her head this way and that, looking around. "So, where's Usagi?" she asked.
Mamoru grimaced almost imperceptibly. "Eh... it's just me."
Rei regarded him with a look he knew to recognize as surprise in her, which would have looked absolutely blank to those who did not know her. But then her eyes widened. "Is she ok?" she rushed out suddenly. Her hand flew into her pocket, grasping something.
It had been a year since the last attack, and yet all the senshi still carried their henshin wands right on their person, at all times…
He frowned, lowered both eyebrows.
"She's home with her parents. They're making osechi," he said quickly.
Her posture relaxed immediately, her hand left her pocket. "Ah…" she said, relieved.
And then she frowned, too. Started looking him up and down. "...are YOU ok?" she asked.
He blinked, caught off guard. Was he? "Um... yes... yes. Just… I was in the neighborhood."
"Right..." she said, unconvinced.
The stars shone bright over Hikawa Shrine, and he held the steaming ceramic mug between cold fingers.
Rei had brought out two thick blankets and was buried in the biggest winter jacket he'd ever seen and a thick pair of colorful fleece pants that he was sure wasn't really intended for his eyes. Below them, the lights of Tokyo blinked and seemed far away, up here on the roof of what was both Rei's home and a holy place. Superpowers got to be worth something in times of peace, right? At least scaling buildings was easy.
"Really," Rei said, blowing absentmindedly on her tea, "I think he fell in love with her for the same reasons we all did."
Mamoru simply grunted in a way that Rei still understood as a reluctant but at the same time too eager 'continue'.
"I mean," Rei started, looking up at the sky – Mamoru wanted to snort at the timing of the shooting star that happened to fall above their heads right at this moment.
"Put yourself in his shoes," Rei continued, nonplussed, but eyes still in the sky. "Basically just a kid like all of us, here he comes from a war pretty much as harsh as the one on the moon that wiped us all out. Just that, you know, they actually survived it, unlike the rest of their entire species. Fighting for years and all that. With this on their shoulders they travel, alone, across the galaxy, to find their lost princess, their only hope. They've lost a war, seen destruction and hate personified kill and nullify everything they ever loved, and they land here."
Mamoru nodded with a frown.
"And then he meets Usagi of all people. Good, sweet, silly, charming Usagi. Pure, immutable light, after he'd seen true darkness."
He nodded once more, this time with a sigh.
"See?" she said. "It made sense. Plus, ya know, the whole fact she was pretty much the only person not trying to date or jump his pop-idol persona, myself included, I'm not going to lie."
Mamoru scrunched his eyebrows right into his tea cup, and Rei once again rolled her eyes, in the 'I'm gonna do this whole conversation by myself, aren't I?' way.
She did keep talking, though. And for that he was immensely grateful. Even when he knew he rather would not want to hear half of what was said, but really should. Or shouldn't. Well, who knew these sorts of things, right?
"It was pretty astounding to see actually. The way she flaunted your ring in his face all the time. The way she had absolutely no clue why he was flirting so hard."
"He was flirting hard?" Mamoru repeated with a glare into his green tea.
Rei sighed. "Of course, that's the part you pick up on." But she huffed out, rolled her eyes, and continued on.
"He did. Amusement park dates. Staying over when she was home alone when it was cloudy with a chance of burglars, that kinda thing," she said, and ignored Mamoru's huffs. "To be honest, I think he thought you had abandoned her. So, he thought he had no reason to stop. Didn't see you as competition, in the beginning, and was mad at you for abandoning her in the end."
He perked up, offended. "I didn—"
"Of course, you didn't," Rei said with another eyeroll. "But he didn't know that. None of us did, right?"
"Right," he said, deflating.
"It was all fun and games, though, in the beginning, I'd say. It was only later that it really and truly sparked for him. And it was hell on him after…"
Mamoru swallowed. "After?"
"After we all found out we all transform into scantily-clad superheroines, and he was no longer permitted to see her. It was crazy hard for him. There were secret telephone booth calls involved, Usagi sneaking to his concert just to see him after he asked her to, telepathic messages, conversations at night from a street corner up to her balcony, risking his life for her in battle by taking hits that were intended for her completely untransformed, that sort of thing."
"Oh…" His hands had tightened around his cup painfully, knuckles turning white.
Rei nodded. She refilled her own cup with the hot thermos that leaned against her thigh, leaving them in silence.
His throat burned when he asked the question he did not dare speak. It was barely audible, and it felt like blasphemy to even utter it, to even think it.
"I get why he liked her. But why did… Did she…?"
"Like him?" Rei finished.
"Ye—" his voice broke. He tried again. "Yes."
Rei's eyes landed on him with a mix of accusation and sympathy, and turned calmer only so steadily, before she finally spoke only after half of her refilled cup was empty.
"In the beginning, he was this class clown that made her laugh, gave her something to do so she didn't have to go home and stare at the phone that just wouldn't ring," Rei said, ignoring his flinch. "She was heartbroken, when you'd left. She missed you so hard, but tried to keep a strong façade. He was the only one that could distract her for a little while, you know?"
Mamoru wanted to nod, except it didn't happen, his head didn't move. He simply stared straight ahead at the blanket of stars.
"It was pretty hard on her, too, when we found out the Three Lights were really the Starlights. She said herself she'd been pretty much in shock."
Her scrunched his eyebrows even closer together.
"It was actually me who made the two meet up and reconcile," Rei said with a shrug.
This time it was his eyes, flying to meet hers, that were full of accusation and hurt, but she brushed it off, barely looked at him.
"I had this silly fortune-teller job for an afternoon, long story," she said. "Anyway. He was head over heels gone for her and torn up when he couldn't see her anymore, and so he did so all the friggin time anyway, it was really frustrating at the time. But Usagi wasn't fairing much better. We all didn't get it. Haruka especially was livid. We all made it into something it wasn't, I guess. We were all so terrified she was in love with him, too, I think? When really—"
His heart had started thumping really hard, really terrified, and he could only whisper her last line back to her, when Rei halted. "When really?"
But she didn't elaborate, and his heart kept on thumping.
Instead she said, "I confronted her about it, you know?"
He flicked his eyes to her.
"The night he'd accidentally confessed to her, I visited her," she said into her cup this time. "Told her she'd absolutely needed to make sure he knew how one-sided his love was… she…"
He swallowed, his hands were trembling. He fought the urge to block his ears with his fists.
"She looked at your photo on her nightstand. Started crying. Started speaking about how she wished she knew what you're doing right now, if you were ok over there. That you'd probably made friends. I was totally bewildered," she said, and his eyes whipped to hers. "She hadn't told any of us that you had never replied. All that time, she'd kept it to herself. Obviously, it took Ami only one call to find out you weren't there. But it was the same night that... you know… the Galaxia shit hit the fan."
She shook her head. Sharply. Abruptly. "Anyway. Don't make our mistake."
"Your mistake?" he whispered, and it huffed in a puff of cloud into the cold air.
Rei nodded, regarded him with serious eyes. "We didn't trust her, then. I didn't. Haruka didn't. Taiki and Yaten definitely didn't. In a time where we should have been working together to finally get answers about Galaxia, we were fighting with them - to keep Seiya and Usagi separated, to not be reckless in a fight between Sailor Senshi since we didn't know the Starlight's objectives. We didn't trust her judgement."
Rei sighed, long and hard.
"Usagi had been right. This person who had become her only confidante in a way, when she felt she couldn't confide in us about what was wrong… He was someone she could talk to, at least in riddles. This person was suddenly another Sailor Senshi. Someone she went to for answers, and if she hadn't gotten them, hadn't trusted him, we'd have all been fucked. It took a telepathic message that took all his strength, wrapped in song in a ferris wheel above a concert she wasn't supposed to be at, and he'd been forbidden to invite her to, for us to finally learn the true scope of Sailor Galaxia's destruction over the galaxy, and why the Starlights were here looking for their princess in the first place. We wouldn't have known all this if Usagi hadn't trusted Seiya, and he hadn't loved her."
Rei fell into silence for a beat. He felt her gaze on his trembling hands, and her voice was gentler when she continued to the staccato beat of his heart to what she said next.
"To answer your question. She doesn't like him. She loves him," she said, and threw him a tentative look.
But he couldn't look. For a second, he couldn't breathe.
Except that Rei was quick to continue.
"But not like she loves you. She loves him like she loves me," she said, his eyes not leaving his form, her finger poking into her own chest. "And Minako. And Haruka. And her idiot brother. You know, that giant heart of hers? She loves Seiya in the exact same way she loves all the rest of us that aren't you."
His heart thumped. But at least, his fingers were moving again, and so were his eyes.
Rei's eyes flickered back to her cup, instead, with a sigh. "We made it into something else, tried to force it out of her. I think we'd have been better off trusting them, like she'd wanted us to. But … you know? She's better than us. She's purer. Her heart is bigger. That's how she saved us all."
He nodded.
"So, don't make our mistake. Trust her heart."
He exhaled, long and frustrated.
"But," Rei continued, "there is something you need to hear much more than about Seiya and Usagi."
His eyes flew back to her, all frown. "What is that?" he croaked out. It felt in his throat like he'd never spoken in his life.
"Something about Usagi and you."
Mamoru blinked, bewildered, while Rei just held his gaze, almost challengingly.
"Do you know why she didn't tell us?" Rei said, finally. "That you'd never replied to a single letter? Never returned a call?"
He straightened up his spine, knit his brow into one big confused wrinkle. "How would I…"
"Obviously if she had, we'd have found out you'd been dead in a heartbeat. But she didn't. Why didn't she?"
He held her gaze, returned the challenge. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so offended, but he braced himself once more.
"She hadn't questioned it – that you might simply not have arrived, it didn't occur to her. Maybe to not allow the thought that something might have happened to you. But instead, her natural assumption was to believe you'd left her, deep down. She thought you'd left her again."
His head whipped to hers, the tea spilled over.
Rei grabbed the thermos next to her. Refilled his cup calmly.
"She didn't tell me you weren't in contact with her. She didn't tell any of us, until that night I confronted her about it," Rei said. "I've never seen her cry so... composed. When she told me. That you had never written back. Never called."
"Naturally, I'd spoken to the girls right away. We were all worried something had happened to you. Which obviously it had... but she... she didn't speak it out loud. Didn't allow the thought, I think. But she did think, or maybe was embarrassed over, at least she thought it possible or else she would have said something, that…" Rei sighed, broke off. Started again. "The way she'd reacted had made it clear she'd thought you had abandoned her. She'd thought it possible that you might have. She didn't want to dig, because if she did, she might have had to face the fact that she could be right in her assumption."
He regarded her with shocked eyes. At first, something in him had recoiled. Didn't want to get what she was saying. If she was right…
How could Usagi have thought he'd be capable of leaving her without a word? Especially after…
Somehow, the lump in his throat became tighter, his breath shorter, as he stared, wide-eyed into the distance.
"How could she... how could she have thought…" he croaked out.
He'd given her a ring. At the airport.
Rei's look of sympathy turned lethal. "How could she have thought that?" she asked, and his eyes once again met hers in challenge.
"It's not like it had been the first time you left her without any warning," Rei said with a glare.
He pulled his shoulders back, looked at her appalled. "That was… You know I had my reasons, I'd thought she—"
"Reasons you never ended up explaining to her. Like, with words," Rei glared. "You once told her you didn't want to be bound to her because of a dead prince's obligation. Melodramatically crumbled roses into her face. But you never said the words afterwards. You never explained."
Mamoru shrunk back.
"You once turned evil and tortured her. And then you guys died together. And when you got your memories back, you never talked about it. Instead, basically the next day, you leave her," Rei said.
Mamoru's trembling hands picked up right where they'd left off under her steady downpour of his shortcomings.
"Then we all find out why, and you're back together, but you never talk about it. In between, she finds out your friends don't even know you have a girlfriend. Then you're dying, and she saves your life, and again you don't talk about it, except that you get possessed by Evil Mirror, and start kicking her out of your place and say harsh things to her, which, fine, yes, not your fault, except you didn't talk about it afterwards, both of you idiots. Instead, she walks across one hell of a nightmare in bleeding feet, saves all of our asses, and instead of, you know, for once talking about things that were said while you were not yourself and setting them right, you tell her instead that you're leaving. Across the world. Like, tomorrow."
Mamoru exhaled, long and harsh.
"But she knows that—" he whispered.
"She believed you'd left her without a word. Didn't reply back because you didn't want to talk to her," Rei interrupted him. "You can't assume she 'knows.' She didn't."
Mamoru swallowed.
"Usagi always felt bad that we all didn't live a normal life. Wanted to do it on her own once, just to spare us. I have no reason to believe she doesn't feel the same way with you, feels guilty about all the times in her head she was the reason you went through hardship. But you never talk about this shit, and so she never has a chance to learn that really, you feel just as shitty about all the times this shit happened to you, too, and that you don't blame her at all," Rei ranted. "She doesn't know."
Mamoru's throat constricted painfully.
But Rei wasn't done, yet.
"She loves you so hard. She loves you more than anyone could love anything in the world. But she's really not ever fully sure you love her back even a fraction of that."
He hadn't noticed the tear that slid down his face and down his chin, down his neck. He just remembered.
The way she'd insisted to know if he loved her, just after he'd returned, to the backdrop of the moon. Again and again, she'd asked. Really? Do you love me? Say it. And how he hadn't directly answered... the way she looked at him like he'd disappear, and he'd assured her he was good and well, but not that he wouldn't leave for different reasons...
Rei was right. They never… Every time. From when he got his memories back when the Doom Tree fell, and he simply gave her a hug, to…. Even the ring. He'd held it up to her wordlessly.
And her reactions to him, whenever she felt unsure about them. The way she held back. Apologized so much when he was cranky and had to study, the way she kicked herself out when he was behaving…off, even when, really, he'd wanted her around. The way she'd tried not to show any feelings of relief when he said he didn't want to do the Harvard thing a "second" time. And just this week… the way her eyes had been so unsure when she'd caught herself assuming she might move in… The way she didn't know it was really the thing he wanted most in the world. The way her smile didn't return fully when he hadn't said it in words that he wanted that too, left her to assume... did she assume right? What did she assume when he didn't say the words... ever?
He didn't even say goodbye. Clanked the sloshing cup down between them, jumped from the roof in one fluid motion, landing swiftly on the ground in truest Tuxedo Mask fashion.
'Oi!' He heard Rei call after him. 'Do it right this time!'
He ran.
The bell rang twice, thrice, once more. Not exactly frantically, per se, but when Usagi heard who it was, she took the steps three at a time, rubber gloves and sponge and all.
He never rang the bell this urgently.
Shingo brushed by her, carrying a bucket full of dish soap water and gave her the stink eye, all 'you better still clean the bathroom with me, or'.
She ignored him fully, eyes catching Mamoru's. He could barely catch his breath.
"Usako—" he breathed.
He didn't enter. Stood frozen in the genkan, and she on the step above it.
It felt wrong this way. They were almost the same height this way.
"Mamo-chan?! What—"
She'd started peeling off the first rubber glove, put the sponge on the cabinet beside her, when Mamoru interrupted her.
"I love you," he said. Almost frantic, a touch too loud.
She blinked. Blushing. Confused. "Uh, I love you, too, Mamo-chan—"
He shook his head. "No."
She recoiled. "No?" she repeated.
He groaned, frustrated. Behind them, she could feel someone shuffle. Her mom? Her dad? Shingo? She didn't look. Mamoru did, though, and after a frustrated groan into his hands, and pulling at his hair, he grabbed her sleeve, pulled at the remaining rubber glove, threw it over her shoulder to her bewildered look, and grabbed both her shoes and her hand, pulling.
"I'll bring her back in a bit," he called over her shoulder.
She barely heard the soft, 'Uh, ok…' before she was pushed out the door and into the chilly December air.
It had started snowing, again.
Mamoru cursed, and just as Usagi stepped into her shoes, he wriggled out of his coat, and put it on her. It was warm and smelled like him, and she got really, really worried. Then he pulled at her hand, and she stumbled out into the night with him.
He started shivering immediately, and yet he pulled her along, through the snow without a jacket on.
"Mamo-chan…" she said, when he lengthened his step.
A minute more, and he started running, and she with him, hand in hand.
Two, three corners and they were starting to get into Juuban's livelier hub. Three, four corners more, and they passed a crossing that took them into Juuban's little shopping area. Four, five corners next, and he suddenly stopped in front of Osa-P. Closed at this time of day.
He was far more out of breath than she was, but at least he wasn't shivering anymore.
What the hell—
"This is where I started falling in love with you," he said, gesturing up towards the closed store.
Usagi blinked. A man walked his dog across the little plaza next to them, the dog barking as he was pulled along.
Mamoru grasped her hands. "With you. Not Serenity. Me and you."
Finally, Usagi curled her hands around his.
"I love you," he said again, boring into her eyes as if she didn't understand, as if he was speaking the wrong language and he needed her to get it anyway.
His voice picked up in speed. "And all the important people know about you. It's just that I don't tell people private things in general, and you're the most private thing of all to me. And I'm so sorry about all the things I said to you when I was… when I was…"
"Mamo-chan…" Usagi's brows furrowed in concern, in bewilderment, and her hands grasped the fabric of his sleeves.
He closed his eyes, opened them back up. "When I was abducted by the Dark Kingdom. When I was under Nehelenia's spell. I never meant any of these things. But I do remember them, and they haunt my nightmares, and I wish so much I could take it all back, and—"
Usagi's heartbeat sped up. "Mamo-chan, what's wrong—"
He shook his head, talked right on. But his thumb brushed against her hand, stroking across her palm, and she felt the way his hands trembled, and now that she felt it, heard the way his voice shook, too, and not just from the cold – and she quieted to let him talk this out, whatever had gotten into him suddenly.
Mamoru felt his heart beat in his teeth, saw the confused, worried look in her eyes, but… Rei was right. Rei was absolutely right.
He swallowed all his fear, started spilling out the words he didn't even want to think.
Usagi's eyes flashed in concern when he did.
"I'm not good at talking about what's on my mind in general. But with this, I'm downright afraid to talk about these things," he pushed out, "because I'm terrified I might remind you of all of them, and you'll decide it's not a good idea to be with me after all the things I've done to you. Not because—"
Her eyes had widened, alarmed, her cheeks flushed. "Mamo-chan, I would never–"
He talked right over her. Really, he knew he was still doing this communication things wrong, but…
"Not because I want a normal life. I mean, sure, I want a normal life. Yes. But with you. Only with you. It's not your fault it's not, and—"
He patted his chest where his breast pocket would have been, before remembering he wasn't wearing his coat anymore. With tentative hands, he brushed his hand into his pocket on her person, her eyes following him still so very confused, and he pulled out a thick brown envelope that he'd run all the way home to get, only to run all the way to her.
He pushed it into her hands.
"Here," he said, swallowing.
Her eyes didn't leave his for a moment, until they did, and she tentatively reached inside. He knew what was in there, of course. Photos of her. Tons of them. Several plane tickets. Unused and old. Logan Airport, Boston, to Narita Airport, Tokyo. One for the week of her birthday, another for his, a third pair for the dates of their anniversary. A wad of airmail stickers.
She leafed through all of it, wide-eyed, not understanding, not really. He needed to say it first.
"I would have visited," Mamoru said. "Every two months I would have visited. I wanted to surprise you. I would have written and called every day, and I would have—"
Her eyes met his. Her eyes were suddenly brimming with tears, the hands that held the envelope had started shaking.
He swallowed, held her gaze. "I would have had trouble not to cry after you'd hung up, and I would have tried not to let you know that I did. I would... I wouldn't have..."
And then his voice broke, and his own eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
"Mamo-chan…" she breathed, and one hand grasped his shirt again, white snowflakes catching in her hair.
"I love you," Mamoru repeated, once more, even more vehement. "Not because of Endymion and Serenity. Because of you. Because you make the world a better place, and me a better person, and because your nose crinkles when you laugh, and because you told my classmates about pudding, and because you get mad jealous when I so much as look at another woman, and because you make me feel like I don't even need a family – I only need you for the rest of my life."
This time, Usagi's tears fell, and he raised the pads of his thumbs to brush them away as she stared at him, wide-eyed, before he wrapped his arms around her.
She was basically drowning in his too large coat, and he buried his nose in her hair as he felt her small hands grasp at his back.
They were both shaking. His voice turned to a whisper in her ear.
"And yes," he continued with his lips against her ear. "I want you to move in with me like, tomorrow. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you and that's something I should have said when I gave you that ring. I can't wait for your noise and your clutter and YOU, all to myself."
He felt her hands twitch, and her arms tighten around him, and the tiniest sob into his chest, and dammit, why hadn't he done this so much sooner.
"I would have called," he whispered. "And I would have come back. The second you were in danger, the second I'd felt you transform. I would have been on the next flight, terrified the whole time it took me to cross that ocean. I would have..."
She hugged him back so tight it almost hurt.
"I love you, too," she whispered into his chest, against his thumping heart.
It calmed a little with her words.
So, there you go guys : ) Happy Holidays, everyone. I hope you liked this, lol. It's the biggest Fanservice I had in me ; ) And, obviously, I hope mamaladyKT liked it most of all ; ) Her prompt was this: "Usagi is gifted a photo album by the girls for her birthday. When Mamoru looks through it at her party he sees a lot of pictures of her and Seiya. He begins to understand just how big of a role the teen idol played in his girlfriend's life while he was gone and questions the assumptions he's made about her and their relationship. Basically you know how guys get when they assume they don't have to try anymore? That. Not that she would cheat."
Obviously, I took some liberties with it to make it my own. So, I hope this still meets all expectations! So, thank you for the prompt, mamaladyKT, I had fun with it! And thank you, Antigone2, for your feedback and that you offered to help me out, like, within MINUTES, and Irritablevowel, too (guys, this is becoming like, a fanfic team lol) and Uglygreenjacket, who is beta-ing this EVEN WHEN SHE'S ON VACATION (I didn't make her do it, I promise, lol, she insisted it was ok!).
ANYWAY, tell me what you thought about it, and happy new year, everyone!