I don't own Sailor Moon on any of its seasons or any of its characters. I was just in an angst mood after reading too many ZoroLuffy angst and my Sailor Moon stickers were just the first thing I saw when I tried coming up with an idea to vent.

Series: Sailor Moon, basically any time after Yuuichiru had gotten to the Hikawa Jinja temple.

Pairing: Yuuichiru longing for Rei with mentions of the past Rei/Mamoru relationship and current Usagi/Mamoru.

Warnings: Er… angst? xD Yuuichiru musing about Rei fighting and him being left behind.

Japanese expressions. Dictionary added at the end of the fic.

Yuuichiru's POV.

Broken Rose Petals

–

The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the one.

That one girl who'll fit by my side like a glove to my hand, like the sun does on the sky of a bright summer morning.

The one girl who could always make me feel good about anything and everything, and for that I would do anything I can for her.

So why did it come to be, that instead of protecting her in my arms, all I could do was wait here for her to come back, her smile almost painfully nonexistent as she hesitantly uttered "Tadaima."

What else could I do, seeing as she was about to fall over from exhaustion, both mental and physical? Her eyes were dull and she was pale. She was one of the most pathetic things I have ever seen in my life, and I say that knowing I have also seen her at her best.

My heart keeps on breaking time and again.

"Okaeri."

–

That first time, she was crying. She was holding her beloved grandfather in her arms, calling out his name, her cheeks moist and stained.

It's rare to see her cry, really. She's so strong and proud, it's almost like catching a shooting star in the middle of Tokyo, or a Blue Moon.

Yet I have managed it how many times, since I came here?

Even that once was one time far too many.

–

She's hiding something, I know it. Always did, since the day I met her.

At first it added so much, the exotic beauty with the hidden past and the many secrets. I was excited and tempted, but soon learned it wasn't quite what I had expected.

Not when she returned home over and over, beaten, bruised… always the forced, carefree smile or the angry expression, aimed at none but herself.

She never lets me see it, her pain, her hurt. She never lets anyone see it, but I'm among the few she actively tries to hide it from.

The few who know it already just from looking at her, because she means so much to them.

The few who means so much to her.

We already know it, see? Have known if for quite a while.

The fact that she's actually already broken.

–

It took me a while to realize it, but not too long. I have been training and watching her, nothing more, after all.

All the signs were there, I guess. We just didn't… want… to accept it.

The late night outings, the injuries, the silence treatment…

The side glances and lies when either I or Oshou-Sama questioned her about it.

The sudden sprouting of a gang of girlfriends around she who had been an untouchable Ice Queen, feared and worshipped by all, though from afar.

When I arrived, the ice had already begun to melt, but it took many days before she resembled anything like a normal human.

It's not completely gone though, the ice. The shield is still there.

She's still hiding, still shielding both herself and those around her.

I don't know what it is she's keeping.

The look in her eyes doesn't allow me to ask.

So I turn away and feel her disappear, out of my sight again, out of my reach.

Out to get hurt.

And I sweep the leaves into a tidy pile underneath the Sakura trees.

–

I must admit that in my usual antics I always thought, at first, that it was that Mamoru guy's fault. I mean, from what Oshou-Sama told me, it all started around the time she got together with him. The strange happenings, the side glances… the works. All then.

She loved him dearly back then, even though he didn't seem overly recuperative, and I know it, that a part of her loves him still.

He'll never know how he hurt her. How much pain was in her eyes when she gave him up, relinquishing him to the girl she'll never admit to being her best friend.

Neither of them will know how many nights she cried herself to sleep over it, over him, and over them - the them they were, the them that will be, and the them that will forevermore remain a 'what if' to haunt her.

I probably never would've known about it either, but like everything else about her, I also love her voice. My ears perk up whenever I hear anything resembling it. No wonder she wants to be a singer. She could make it big, if she just tried.

So, passing by her room, night after night after restless night, of course I caught that sound that came from behind the door.

The sound of her chocked sobs, muffled by her pillow and self esteem.

I always found tear stains by morning, too.

I never asked though.

She never brought it up.

Jus the way it is between us, I guess.

At least for now.

–

It wasn't him, though. It wasn't his fault after all (Well, it was, making her cry. The other stuff, I mean).

It stretched out for too long and too close in between for it to have been him.

Days at a time, sometimes, she'd get back battered and beaten without having even talking to him. But she did talk to Oshou-Sama and I.

"I fell."

She'd usually say the first day. Talking to us never meant being honest.

"It was insanely crowded on the train."

Day Two.

Day Three would usually be another trip or somehow involving one of her friends in an otherwise amusing incident, but at that point onwards she'd just avoid us completely, comfortably hiding behind her long sleeved Miko uniform and school fuku.

After a while we ourselves stopped asking, and we noticed that gradually, as she noticed it, she began to smile a bit more.

Not asking meant not expecting answers.

We weren't the only ones who hated her having to lie to us.

–

I swore to myself to be a man worthy of her, to be someone with whom she can share, someone she'll trust enough to confide in.

I keep on realizing what an ironic, impossible dream it was. Still is.

She's too strong, too proud, too self reliant to even admit she might be weak, when all she wants to do most of the time is curl into a ball, let someone she loves hold her close and weep.

But she's too worried about her friends to take herself into consideration, too worried about me and Oshou-Sama to let us help her.

She doesn't want to trouble us, but she does by not doing so. I wonder if once, just once, I'll be able to understand her, know why it is she's doing the things she does the way she does, so stubbornly blinding herself to the fact that we only care for and want to help her, and that the 'they come before I do' rule doesn't apply only to her.

If it was up to me, I'd suffer in her place, take all her grief and pain and misery and just lock it up inside of me, for better or worse, leaving only her smile on her face and stars in her eyes.

I'd hold her close and rock her gently, telling her exactly how much I love her and let her cry for as long as she'd want to, forever more being there to wipe her tears.

But I can't. Not because I myself am incapable of performing such an act (or so I like to tell myself), but because, in all reality, she won't let me.

Not now, not then, not ever.

She would look at me with her gaze downcast and her hands tightly gripping the ham of her skirt, and she would wordlessly shake her head, unable to face me.

And there she is, about to do it again.

She's staring at me, for a change, even if she does so pleadingly. Her friends are waiting anxiously behind her, eyeing me nervously.

"Please… I have to go…"

She refuses to look at me any more as the tears begin to well in her eyes. She's so beautiful like that, and I hate myself a little for enjoying this so much.

"Please… don't tell Ojii-chan."

That you're doing something you shouldn't? That you're doing something that we'll disapprove of?

That you're going out there to get hurt again…

Your eyes drier, you're now looking straight at me and I sigh. The look of urgency and despair at what I might say is replaced by shock and the faintest touch of rosy red on your cheeks as I reach to wipe off your tears. I know you're probably doubting it, but I hope that one day you'll know that, as sad as it is, this smile I wear for your sake is as real as your tears.

"Iterashai."

Your violet eyes widen, but you instantly regain your composure, muttering 'arigatou' as you rush off, following the blonde girl with the pigtails you grew so fond of.

I hear you cry out and know that in that flash of light you changed as much as you remained the same, but I don't look.

I don't ask.

As you go out to fight, all I can do for you is wrap a bandage around your wounds and prepare the bath and a warm meal when you come back, once again battered and beaten.

Broken.

And all I can do is try to pick up the pieces until next time, try to hold this fort here, try to make sure there will always be a place for you to return to when you next decide to let me get the closest I ever will be to helping you.

"Tadaima."

"Okaeri."

–Owari–

Japanese Expressions:

Okaeri – Welcome Back.

Tadaima – I'm Back/I'm Home.

Oshou-Sama – respectful addressing to the high priest in a temple.

Sakura – Cherry Blossoms.

Miko – Shrine Maiden.

Fuku – uniform.

Ojii-Chan – Personal, close addressing to grandfather.

Arigatou – Thank you.

Iterashai – Have a safe trip/ come back safely.

Owari – End.