Huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed, as well as those who have favorited or followed the story! It means so much to me :) Shaydoe: This chapter's a bit shorter, sorry! I wanted to put their whole date in one chapter, but I was too excited after finishing the first half, and I decided to post it early. Smfan4ever72: I'm glad you like the characters! Usagi is strong and rationally knows what she wants, but her feelings are confusing her. Arabella Violetta: I think when they first met Mamoru was very attracted to Usagi but didn't anticipate falling for her, and her telling him that she met someone else jolted him into action (although like you said, he probably Googled "how to be romantic" or something). Querida Usagi: Thank you! Romance stories are always more entertaining when the guy's a bit of a jerk, aren't they? Sigh, I wonder why.
Now onto Chapter 4, the first half of Mamoru and Usagi's big date!
It was windy as the two of them walked to the restaurant—arms linked despite Usagi's insistence—with Mamoru bragging about how much fun she was going to have. It was quite different walking side-by-side and having a conversation, Usagi thought; usually Mamoru, who had much longer legs, would walk in front of her and then periodically stop when he realized she had fallen behind.
"We're going to do whatever you want tonight," Mamoru said.
"Really, anything?" Usagi said. "How about a threesome with another guy?"
"The bad kind of threesome?" Mamoru asked incredulously, as if his pride was wounded by the mere question. "Absolutely not! Let me clarify that it can be anything within reason."
After a couple of minutes he stopped in front of a tall gray hotel building. The doorman held the doors open as Mamoru and Usagi walked inside. The lobby was a wide oval space with two large marble pillars at either end, the sides lined in plush couches. They walked to the elevators, Usagi's heels making small clinking noises on the polished floor.
"Chez Matsuyama, please," Mamoru told the crisply uniformed elevator operator, who pressed the button for the 39th floor.
"'Chez Matsuyama'—is it French and Japanese fusion?" Usagi asked.
Mamoru shook his head. "Just traditional French," he said. "It's the pet project of the hotel owner's wife. I heard they lose an absurd amount of money every year because she hired a chef who insists on importing every single ingredient from France. I guess the hotel makes boatloads of money to offset the cost, and the owner is happy to keep his wife occupied while he runs around with his mistresses."
"Because all men have to sleep around to be happy, correct?" Usagi said, not without a hint of snark.
"Powerful and wealthy men like the hotel owner, I suppose," he responded.
"Do men who become powerful and wealthy fall into that lifestyle of infidelity, or is it that type of ambitious, testosterone-driven nature that enables them to succeed in the first place?"
"That's...that's an interesting question," Mamoru said. "But not the desired subject of conversation for the evening."
The elevator dinged, and Mamoru put his arm around Usagi's waist and led her to the bar. She sat down on a stool while he went to the hostesses in front to tell them that they were early for their reservation.
The bar was modern with low lighting—not what Usagi had been expecting for a traditional French restaurant. She looked around, examining the unique light fixtures.
Mamoru rejoined her and they both ordered cocktails with fanciful names; Usagi's was colorful and tropical while Mamoru went with a new take on the Old Fashioned.
"Why don't want you want to talk about cheating?" Usagi bluntly jumped back into the conversation.
"Usagi, I said that I wanted to have a nice evening with you," Mamoru said.
"So you admit that discussing your views on infidelity will prevent me from enjoying the evening?"
"Usagi, please?"
Something in Mamoru's tone made her stop. "Okay, then tell me about your work this past week."
They continued talking; within ten minutes a hostess had informed them that their table was ready and escorted them into the dining area. It was then Usagi realized that the bar and the restaurant shared no common theme. The room itself reminded her of a fancy dining car in an old train, with lovely oak panels lining the walls. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling and each table had small candles and vases of fresh flowers. Moreover, the view was spectacular. Usagi walked over to the window, glancing out at the tall skyscrapers in nearby Shinjuku.
"Nice view, isn't it?" Mamoru said from behind her.
"I love seeing the lights in the buildings," Usagi said. "Although I wish you could see the stars," she finished softly.
Mamoru pulled out her chair, again surprising Usagi. "You're pulling out all the stops, huh? The middle ages called; they want their chivalry back."
"The 90s called; they want their terrible joke set-up back," he countered. Usagi stuck out her tongue but sat down and looked at her menu.
There were only three options: special, "Ambassador," and "Sovereign." The number of courses, and therefore the price, increased by level. The Sovereign had seven courses, each of which included black truffles.
"I'm getting the Sovereign," Mamoru announced.
"Well then, you'd better be ready to share everything," Usagi said.
Just then the waiter came over and Mamoru ordered a bottle of wine. "And we'd both like the Sovereign course, please." He looked over at Usagi as the waiter walked away. "Now you can have your own black truffle experience, my dear Usako," he said, placing his hand over hers on the table.
"Usako? Where did that come from? Look, Mamoru, I know what you're trying to do by taking me out and dropping money on me. But this," she pulled her hand away, "does not feel right. Why now? Just because I met someone else? If I hadn't met someone else, would we still be where we were before?"
"Usagi," Mamoru said, putting his hand back on hers and intertwining their fingers, "I like you, okay? But right now I don't want to discuss what that means. We can have more 'serious talk' later, I promise."
"Fine, fine," Usagi conceded.
Most of their dinner was spent gawking at and praising the inventive uses of black truffles in each course—particularly the six different tiny desserts at the end. Conversation also included politics, both deploring the weak leadership coming from a string of prime ministers in the past few years.
When the waiter brought the bill Mamoru grabbed the check holder, but Usagi peeked over and gasped. "Jesus, that's half my monthly rent. My pride demands that I split it with you, but I don't think I can afford to."
"It's fine. I told you this was a date," Mamoru said. "Tonight everything's on me, my little Usako."
"Okay, fine...Mamo-chan." She meant it to be sickly sweet, but he appeared to be pleased that she was giving him a nickname. He paid and the two of them walked outside.
"Mamoru, dinner was excellent," Usagi said. "Thank you very much for taking me out. We can talk later, as you said. But now I should really go home. I'll just hop in a taxi."
"That's nonsense," Mamoru stated matter-of-factly.
"Mamoru," Usagi's voice hardened, "I enjoyed myself, but it's time for me to go home."
"Why do you keep fighting me?" he asked. Usagi crossed her arms and said nothing. When a taxi pulled over, she reached to grab the door handle, but Mamoru pushed her up against the door and gave her a passionate kiss.
When he pulled away she was breathing heavily and her heart was beating wildly. Mamoru stared into her eyes. "Would you be having this much fun with that other guy?"
"Way to ruin the moment," Usagi said and got into the car, muttering an apology to the driver. Mamoru followed her inside the taxi and Usagi decided not to argue with him. Mamoru told the driver the name of a club in Nishi-Azabu.
"You're taking me to a club?" she asked, surprised.
"You always say you want to go out dancing. Are you going to turn down this opportunity? Maybe you don't want to embarrass yourself...?" Mamoru said.
"Dammit, stop trying to challenge me! You know it always works, you jerk." She pushed her finger into his chest. "I bet you're the one who's awkward on the dance floor. Are you actually going to dance?" Usagi knew Mamoru had a distinct aversion to dancing; she reasoned that he probably had no rhythm.
"Well, not exactly," he said. "I'll stand there, and you can shake and wiggle your butt on me. It'll be a win-win situation." Usagi smacked him but could not hide her grin.