A/N: Yes, I'm continuing it (mainly just for Thorn on A Rose though :D ). I don't know, I think that (maybe?) this story could go somewhere. Like I said in my previous notes, this story is in no way Mamoru-bashing or even a typical SeiyaxUsagi get together... Even if it's a get together at all. Please review my work as constructively as possible, and have...fun, I suppose.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Plus, I'm penniless and spend all my money on clothes on books, so Naoko would get...About a tenner off me. Heh.

The rain was falling down in sheets by the time Mamo-chan decided to pick me up. I hadn't even noticed it was raining before, which was unusual for me; I'd usually be searching for the first signs of lightning.

We sat in silence for a few moments; he kept on looking at me, as if my messy hair or my crumpled tracksuit were clues. He always had such an analytical mind, quietly discerning, Ami called it.

I kept on biting my nails and glancing out the window. The area around Seiya's apartment was so nice, all tinted windows and boutique mannequins standing imposingly like temple statues out onto the passers by.

Finally he asked me if I had slept well last night.

"Fine." I said, smiling. I looked back at him, and saw how glazed his eyes looked, and how sleepily he was following the map of road signs leading us back to his apartment.

I couldn't tell if he was angry. It wasn't a particularly angry silence, but there was something that crackled in the air between us. It was hard because his features always looked so hard and set, it was difficult to detect any alterations in them.

Finally I asked him if we could put the radio on. He nodded silently, and as the music came on, it was as if a weight crashed between us.

Kimi ha itsumo kagayai te ta

egao hitotsu chiisana hoshi

taisetsu ni shite ta yo (eien no starlight)

As quick as anything, I pressed the power button, silencing the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry." I forced out, before even seeing his face.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter." Pause.

I stifled a snort of disbelief. Yeah, sure. I fiddled with the sleeves of my jacket, watching as the businessmen move in droves around the city, dead eyed and focussed. I'd hate to be like that, I thought. I had never really paid that much attention to them before, but at the moment I felt incredibly bad for them, like watching a sad scene of a movie but not being able to press the fast forward button so you don't have to watch.

I wish life was like that: a videotape. You could tape over all the bad parts you'd like, skip past the boring bits, and then rewind and watch the good parts as much as you wanted.

I could erase last night. Then I could skip past and make a lot of stuff different. I'd go back to being fourteen for a little while, just before Luna found me, so I could remember what it was like. Then I could study a little bit more. And maybe get the courage to ask Motoki out- hey, if he refused, I could just erase it! Right?

Well, sometimes, I'm just... curious. I've only ever kissed one guy, great kisser that he proved to be.

Wait-

Well, I can't say that now, can I?

I think of last night and my head whirs, like a carousel going too fast, with lights blinking on and off. I think of this morning, and how I can still taste him in my mouth, and I'm touching my lips so I can remember. He tasted different from Mamo-chan; not better, just different; like coffee and well... Seiya.

When we stop, Mamo-chan comes across to kiss me. I think about how many other times we've kissed, and how this one doesn't feel different or spectacular, but still laced with something different.

What was that word again?

Oh yeah, guilt.

I sneak into my house with rain soaked clothes, thankful that it's Sunday so my Mother is out shopping and Papa is probably napping. There's a pile of unfinished homework lying on top of my desk that I don't even want to think about right now. Sine curves make even less sense to me right now than usual. But I still pick up the pen, letting the nib float over the blank page.

I write my name: Tsukino Usagi. Age: 16.

Simple enough. Only it isn't. So many things come with it; distorted mirror images of princesses and heroines that have always been strangers to me. I think of the faces that surround me, of the destiny moves me, and it makes me feel ill.

I never feel like this. At least I never try to.

There's nothing else on the page; just me, my identity summarised into a few messy kanji characters. It used to be all I needed. I look at the name and it doesn't seem to fit me anymore. And I can't just laugh it off again. It's my name, mine, but it isn't anymore, it's been sold off.

And I'm writing down everything; every painful thought creviced into the paper supposed to be for Tsukino Usagi's math homework, betraying every reassurance that's carried me through these past two years.

It's erratic, nothing, just a flow of thought. A map of names, of places, of feeling and thought; I write about last night:

I won't.

You have to.

Why are you making me do this? I don't want to make this decision.

But you have to, we have to.

In the margin I write about Seiya, hiding every thought I have for him away from the rest. 'Guilt' is all I can seem to write. I know I hurt him so much. I hurt him just by being around him. I can't stay in this flux, bordering between friend /would be lover. Yet I don't know what else to do.

I kiss him because I need him, because it's like for a second I'm grabbing onto the fading me. Like I'm being sixteen, just sixteen, just kissing a boy because I find him cute and I feel like it. Not considering a millennium long lost love, a duty as a Senshi, being a Princess or a Queen.

I look back at the centre of the page, to where the words Tsukino Usagi are resting:

just her, I mouth over and over again, just her.