Welcome back to Day 2, guys! (Which, ya know, starts earlier for me, lol. So there.) Today's theme was "Memories", so here you have a flashback and some setting ;) My forever thanks to my beta, Uglygreenjacket. Thank you, girl!


Idiots

A First Season AU Written for MamoUsa Week 2019


Day 2: Memories


It hadn't been the first time Mamoru had confused her like this. This had been a long time coming. With Tuxedo Mask, it had been different.

Usagi had been 17 when she fell in love with Tuxedo Mask.

She'd had a crush before, of course. How could she not? Ever since the night she had become Sailor Moon, about a year previously, and he'd been there with her right from the start. It was easy to crush on the guy that whisked her out of danger, talk her up to find her strength, praise her at every turn, save her life on numerous occasions.

But that night that made this real she had not been Sailor Moon, she'd been Usagi.

The battle that night had been hard, she'd been left bruised and drained and asking herself if this would ever end, if she would ever beat these guys. This time, she waited until she was halfway home to detransform – it was safer not to be seen as Sailor Moon around her neighborhood after a battle, Minako had drilled that into her – but this time she regretted it almost immediately. The pain was worse when untransformed and shot up her leg. She felt bruises forming against her cheekbone and ribcages around a heavy heart and was just about to fuck it and transform back when he found her.

He'd landed directly in her path, fluttering cape and all, and those dark eyes behind his mask had looked completely horrified.

"What happened to you?!" he'd nearly shouted. It was weird. These had been the first words Tuxedo Mask had ever spoken to Tsukino Usagi, but they did not feel like the words spoken to a stranger.

Not to Sailor Moon, obviously. They'd spoken just minutes before, when they'd assured each other they weren't all too worse for the wear, nothing they couldn't handle, nothing their magic wouldn't heal in a day or two, and he'd bowed in that respectful yet still rather distant way before dashing off.

One of his gloved hands had reached out, hovering above her bruising face but not touching. His eyes looked…

Sailor Moon had been injured pretty often. To the point that Tuxedo Mask happily took blows for her, all the time, always concerned. Sailor Moon had been injured lots of times, way worse than what was currently blooming on Usagi's face.

But Tuxedo Mask had never looked at a wound of Sailor Moon's as utterly appalled as this. As if it had no absolute right to be where it was.

She'd recoiled a little from the sheer intensity of his concern, looked up with him with wide eyes and took a step back. Then cringed – she'd forgotten the pain in her leg and cried out when the mistake made her put her weight on the wrong one on accident.

His eyes grew wide, almost terrified, when his hands shot out to steady her wobbling, hobbling form.

His voice grew into an angry hiss. "How did this—"

Usagi wracked her brain for what she could say. She didn't want to lie to Tuxedo Mask.

"I got um… I got into the crossfire at that youma battle."

She mentally patted her own shoulder. Not a lie at all.

It seemed impossible, but his look grew even more horrified.

"I didn't see you there," he rasped.

"Um… "

His whole face screamed remorse. "I would have… I wouldn't have let this happen to you. If I'd seen you, I would have… I would…"

"It's really ok," Usagi interrupted. "It was my own fault, really!"

This didn't seem to help at all. His look stayed mortified. "This… this shouldn't happen to you…"

He seemed to take inventory of her state and each hair out of place seemed to register on his face and turn it more ashen, as if every stray oddity was his own personal fault.

"You're injured, too," Usagi pointed out. "Should this have happened to you?"

He dismissed her remark as if it were ridiculous. He just repeated what he'd said before, with even more emphasis. "This shouldn't happen to you."

Usagi cocked her head. "You … don't even know me."

This finally seemed to shake him. He blinked, and some of the intensity fled his eyes and posture. "Um, right," he said. A few stray black strands of hair fell into his eyes over his mask as he bent over her a little. "Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry, this… must be weird for you."

She held his eyes, saying nothing. His cape flapped in the night breeze and he tore his eyes from her briefly to look off into the distance. It felt as if he were trying to calm down.

"I'm gonna get you to a hospital now," he stated finally.

Usagi's eyes widened. She held up her hands. "NO!" she shouted.

He frowned at her. "Oda— I mean…" he swallowed, broke off, tried again. His eyes narrowed at her. "Why the hell not?" he asked.

For a minute there, his dark look and harsh tone reminded her of someone. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She shrunk back a bit. Tried to avoid answering out right. She couldn't really tell him that her Senshi magic would deal with this and also she would get into a hell lot of trouble. "I'm… It looks worse than it is. I'll go see a doctor in the morning."

He pursed his lips.

She swallowed. Wracked her brain for more innocent truths. She finally settled on, "my parents don't know I'm not home. I snuck out. I need to go home."

He deflated. "Oh," he breathed. Then his brow creased, moving the mask ever so slightly. "But surely—"

She interrupted him. "I'm just... gonna go home, ok?"

He opened his mouth. It looked like he wanted to argue, then closed it again. His eyes had turned impossibly tender. "Can I… can I help you get home? At least?"

She threw him a long, searching look. "…Sure."

Well, she supposed he was the kind of person to fuzz over someone's safety. No doubt. But… this was… this seemed almost personal to him.

With that Usagi hobbled on, trying to mask the groans she'd previously allowed to openly jump off the empty nighttime streets without a care. But one cringe and she felt him hover.

It was almost endearing the way he seemed to battle with himself. If she were Sailor Moon, he'd have to qualms to pick her up immediately. Battle routine will kill all sense of personal space.

But here, he was absolutely polite and very, very concerned.

"I can… carry you… If that's ok," he mumbled, agitated.

She lifted her eyes up to him. "…Sure," she breathed, once more. Afterwards, she held her breath.

Then she felt his gloved hands again. It was a touch that should have been familiar. A touch she'd felt so, so often this past year. These strong, familiar hands and arms slipping around her form, behind her knees, cradling her to his own body like so.

Yet, it had never felt so gentle or careful. Tuxedo Mask touched Usagi as if she were something fragile that he needed to protect at all cost.

Then soft, expectant eyes fell back on hers.

"Where to?" he asked.

She blinked, shook out of it, then gave directions. Obviously, being a super heroine herself, she should have expected him to not just walk there, and yet she still gave a surprised shriek when he jumped, catapulting himself off the asphalt and took to the rooftops. Her hair fluttered in the wind with his cape.

"Sorry," he said, immediately. "Is this too much? Am I hurting you?" he asked, slowing once on the roof of the building they'd just stood in front of.

"Um… no," she murmured. "I was just… surprised."

His mouth twisted into a grin, and then a wink, and Usagi couldn't fight the surprised blush.

…Tuxedo Mask did not act this way around Sailor Moon. Definitely not.

She stayed silent for the majority of the very warm and comfortable 'ride', and so did he, and all too soon she could make out the rooftops near her home, seeing as she'd traveled these skies quite a few too many times before. She bit back her remark about the slippery slant of the roof coming up just in time – civilians had no business being familiar with the faulty rooftop architecture surrounding their neighborhood after all, and cringed when he promptly stumbled on it, jostling her injured leg in the process.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, then shifted. His touch had grown even more careful, and so had his slowed down steps.

But this was too soon. She'd be home too soon. Panicked, her voice came out squeaky.

"Tuxedo Mask?!" she rasped.

"Yes?"

Her heart beat a little too fast. "Can I ask you a question?"

"That depends," he winked at her.

She flushed. "Um, why… why do you do this?"

He frowned, his eyes turned down to her, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The black fabric of the Tuxedo felt warm beneath her skin.

"Get you home?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"Um, no…" she faltered. "Why do you fight the youmas?"

He focused on her eyes with a long, blank look. Leapt a gap between rooftops without moving his eyes away.

"That's… a complicated question," he said eventually.

Usagi nodded into his shoulder with a sigh. "It's ok if you can't answer…" And then, "I'm in the yellow house up ahead…"

He nodded, and then shrugged. He barely thought before he answered. It surprised Usagi. Tuxedo Mask was definitely far from someone who offered information freely, usually. At least with the Senshi.

"I have several reasons," he said, eyes flicking between hers and the rooftops. "One is very selfish. The other is just… it's the right thing to do, if I can, don't you think?"

He slowed to a stroll. Her house was just two rooftops away now.

"What's the selfish reason?" she asked, voice hurried.

He shrugged, then stopped. They were looking down at her house from the way higher rooftop across from hers. With a sigh, she nodded towards her balcony. "I'm looking to gain a few memories," he said.

She frowned. "Of… being a super hero?"

He shook his head no. "No," he said. Then turned his smile back down to her, "Although moving around like this certainly has its perks, don't you think?"

He nodded behind her, and she twisted to look.

He'd meant the view. Yes. She knew what he meant. Nighttime Tokyo didn't really sleep. Not exactly. Looking across the skyline it glowed with rich and dark and neon colors. Towering above and so relatively close to where she lived stood Tokyo Tower. Only still just illuminated. It was nearing midnight after all.

Usagi had seen this lots of times, and yet she could see it a thousand more and she'd still gasp at its beauty. And so she did.

He chuckled softly at her. And then he leapt, cape flying, off the taller building, and landed in front of her room gracefully with bent knees and a careful hold on her.

She clawed her fingers into his cape reluctantly when he finally settled her on her feet. She really didn't want to let go. She wanted more of his openness.

He tipped his top hat at her with a small, playful smile and then turned to jump away.

"I'm Usagi!" she called. He faltered, twisted back to look at her.

"It's nice to… uh… get to know you, Tuxedo Mask."

Not a lie.

He smiled. It carried something. His eyebrows lowered, his expression so… soft.

Then she giggled. It ended in a happy sigh. He looked at her quite oddly. He had, after all, just carried her home because she'd been beaten up my monsters.

After a beat, she spoke her mind.

"I don't think you have a selfish bone in your body," she said.

He sighed, before it turned into a smile.

"Go see your doctor in the morning, ok?" he admonished, but his smile didn't falter.

Usagi nodded curtly, grinning, and flicked her fingers in a mock little salute, teeth showing in her smile.

His lips quirked up. "Stay this cheerful, ok? Never change," he said.

Usagi blinked, fingers still lifted to her brow and her heart skipped a beat.

Then he touched his lips to her knuckles before letting go of her completely, and jumped, still facing her, backwards off her balcony.

She didn't even hear a thud. He was just gone.

Her heart hadn't calmed down for the rest of the night.

And for the rest of the day, and the day after that.

She'd practically skipped through her days that weekend. Had been able to completely block out Mamoru-baka when he'd blown up in her face after he interrogated her about the bruise on her cheek and she'd admitted that she hadn't gone to see her doctor yet and probably wouldn't because it wasn't so bad after all. Had just smiled dreamily, head miles away, as he threw a complete and over-the-top rude fit over what she'd been doing at a youma battle anyway.

Yeah, it hadn't mattered at all. She was in love, and the world was a beautiful place.

She'd had a crush before. She was in love, afterwards.

She'd been a weird mess in the following battles. The routine she and Tuxedo Mask had acquired was just… disrupted. By her, and by the way her heart stumbled around him from then on.

She'd… tried everything, following that night. Tried to engage him in conversation after the deed was done, fell more, so he would touch her more. She flirted, she praised him, she jumped into attacks for him, she did her friggin best just so he'd see her from her best, dedicated side.

He never smiled at her as softly as he had that night on her balcony.

By the time she'd turned 18, she was sick of this feeling. The feeling of unrequited love, of sighing into the distance and sighing when she saw his face looking back at her from her mother's tabloids and sighing when he dashed away from her after a battle.

The night she'd attempted to confess and the moment he had understood what Sailor Moon was trying to do had been… not very pleasant. His eyes had been so alarmed and so wide and so frightened and full of… It had looked like pity and compassion and warm, tender understanding and she snapped her mouth shut and kept herself from hearing the rejection.

She'd hated sighing by that point. But if Sailor Moon didn't impress him… what chance did clumsy, crybaby, brash Tsukino Usagi ever have?

Odango Atama.

She'd been in love with Tuxedo Mask for so long, she really hadn't noticed the way Mamoru had started to confuse her so much, so steadily.

'I am an idiot'…

It had been easy to crush for a gorgeous super hero with smooth lines and who whisked her away from danger, pep-talked her through every insecurity, risked his life for her, and then treated her like she was the most special person in the world when she'd currently just been Usagi and when he was injured himself.

She had no friggin idea why she was also crushing on the guy who flew off the handle when talking to her, insulted her at every turn, made fun of her, rolled his eyes at her, treated her as if she was the most frustrating person on the planet.

The guy with the hot-headed stare and the vulnerable eyes and the surprisingly intense concern when she wasn't doing alright, with the tense mouth and the deep sighs.

Though, really, he hadn't been that bad in the past year. And it wasn't like she didn't give back just as she got it. She'd called him some really mean things over the years, after all. And he always took it with that cocky grin and the flashing eyes. This had been their way from the start.

It made no fucking sense, that fickle heart of hers.


So, while I was in my academic thesis-exile, I spent the little, little time that I had that was not dedicated to work&academia very unapologetically with amazing, ship-py, fanfiction-y, glorious things meant purely for leisure and enjoyment. Two of the few things on this list included the book "The Hating Game" by Sally Thorne (a fanfiction writer turned book author! One of us, guys!) as well as binging on Miraculous Ladybug. So, for those who don't know these: A DELICIOUS enemies-to-lovers trope book filled with more delicious trope goodies, and a show (and its numerous fics) that lives off the big reveal as well as complicated dynamics between superheros and their civilian selves.

Both of these things influenced this fic (in the Ladybug-case, I "love-squared them up" ;) ), and are totally the reason why I'm having a Season 1 AU phase. So, blame those (and the people at fault for recommending these things to me lol, you know who you are ;) )

Next Up: Items

Let me know what you think!