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Weapons
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Chiba Mamoru was a man never meant to know love. Or care. Or share what he might care to love.
And he believed this about himself with a certainty of someone who had lived his whole life alone and unloved. He had practiced solitude for nearly thirteen years. And he liked the peace it brought.
As a child, he had built a fortress that no one had been capable of laying siege. Even Motoki, the arcade guy, and his long time friend, only gets to enter his icy shell by the strictest form of emotional surveillance.
The man that a six years old orphan boy had become was content with his life. And no one, not one, was allowed to destroy his calm world.
He has pushed himself to routine his actions, so to make effective use of his time. He spent what little leisure moments he had studying. Even in his coffee break, Mamoru was diligent in his studies.
He guarded everything his jealously. His privacy, his lonely dark world…
Mamuro knew that at times, he was a cold, calculating bastard. But cold, calculating bastards ruled the world, and that was exactly what he wanted. To rule…and protect what he owned.
A happy laughter burst out of nowhere and destroyed his concentration. Tired and irritated, he lifted his midnight blue eyes to the source of the irritating laugh.
She was with friends, her hands gesturing wildly as she related some story. It was nonsensical, like always, and filled with descriptions of colours and light.
For a moment, his resolution faltered, and he allowed himself to listen. His hungry eyes took notice of the other people inside the arcade, and what he saw made his gorgeous blues turned to nasty slits.
Everyone was staring at her. Some boys, sporting her uniforms color was gazing at her in rapt admiration. Irritated, he took note of the blush of a man older than himself as he tried to not look at the blonde-haired storyteller.
A feeling of anger and envy came toward him and he hated how he felt. Striving to be calm, he focused his attention to the now quiet girl, her happy, sweet smile warming everyone who sees it.
Tsukino Usagi is the embodiment of everything that Mamoru was not. She was carefree and happy. There was no desire for her to control the world. There was no desire to control in her - period. The young woman was the mortal form of sunshine, dewdrops, honey, vanilla, sugar, gingerbread cookies, a kitten purr, a puppy's tail, a fluff of feather on ticklish feet, and chocolates. Always the chocolates… The list goes on, but it was too long and unnecessary.
These were not the worst things about Usagi, though. The worst thing about the girl was her smile.
Not that he wanted it. Mamuro shudder at the idea of being in the receiving end of that smile. It would be like being given a gift that he would be required to share to people. And bastard that he was, he would not want to share it…
With a cool calm voice, Mamoru delivered his killer blow. "Eh, Odango Atama, will it be too much to ask if for once in your stupid life, you stop squealing your ridiculous stories for one day? No one cares that the clouds outside looks like Santa's elf making jack in a box?" His voice was even, not a single trace of desperation in it. Around him, the entire arcade gasps.
Usagi's smile vanished instantly. With a growl, she stomp towards the obnoxious man, who for some reason, always insisted on pinpointing every little flaw she posses. Her laughing blue eyes were screaming murder now.
"Baka Buta!" Poke. "Why," Poke. "Must," Poke. "YOU," Poke. "ALWAYS ALWAYS RUIN MY DAY!" Poke, poke, poke.
The girl whirled around, her other hand nursing her finger where she had gabbed it at Mamuro's chest. In seconds, she was out in the streets, on her way home, the golden hair of hers streaming in the wind, as she ran from her enemy.
Her blue eyes and gold hair.
This, too, were some of the worst things about Usagi.
Mamoru uttered a sigh of contentment as the world around him returned to normal. He could not do anything about the color of her eyes, or the silken sheen of her hair, but he could make sure he was never disarmed by her smile.
For Usagi's weapon were formidable. And while his words were his only defense against it, the handsome young man looked within himself and winced. The fortress that was inside him was melted away. He knew that if it was a physical thing, the ice fortress would look like a ruin of an old castle, its entire front flank crumbled at the warmth of a smile.
With resolution, he begun to clear the rubble, and build a stronger fort. His heart ignored the pain emanating from within, now that she was gone. And his mind cowed in a dark corner, knowing it was a losing battle…
Usagi's weapons were just too strong.
