Part three, drabble 4: Karma

"You eat like a pig," Mamoru exclaimed, watching with morbid curiosity as Usagi all but inhaled the mound of French fries on the platter before her.

"Well, you look like one," she returned between bites.

"Takes one to know one," Mamoru teased, grinning as her eyes sparked with irritation as she rose to the bait.

"You just can't go one day without picking on me, can you, Mamoru-baka?" She made an indignant little sound, stabbing her fork viciously into the mound of fries, pretending it was Mamoru beneath the tines.

"You can't go one day without giving me ammunition, can you, Odango?" he mocked. She hopped off the barstool, cheeks flushed with anger. Mamoru thought she was beautiful. He stood up, preparing for the final confrontation.

"You are the most hateful man it has ever been my misfortune to meet!" she cried, pointing a condemning finger at him.

"Me? What about you? It must be Karma," he said, "what could I possibly have done to deserve you?"

She flounced past him, ignoring his last jab, calling a halfhearted goodbye to Motoki and cursing Mamoru even as she flew out the door.

Motoki shook his head, as confused as ever at the byplay between his best friend and his best customer.

"Whatever it was I did to deserve her," Mamoru leaned across the counter to confide in his best friend, "must have been very, very good."