I feel so bad for leaving you all alone with no finished story! No excuses, but… here's a semi-long chapter as my offering. Forgive me. ;_; It's almost three in the morning, and I really wanted to get this out, so I'm praying there's no grammar errors.. Reviews are very much appreciated, too, as always.


A sharp look snapped across Rei's face.

"What is it?" Minako asked, noticing her change.

"A Youma… I can sense it. A powerful one."

With a glance toward each other, the four stood up in unison, nodding their heads right after. Each trailed behind the other, filing out the door as quickly as possible. I sat in the same spot, my body unmoving, my head hung low.

A comforting hand covered my shoulder, causing me to meet Ami's sympathetic gaze.

"Don't worry," she told me softly. "We'll find a way through this, I'm sure of it. We always have before. We'll figure out what the situation is with Mamoru-san, and you'll be able to transform again. I promise."

Half-smiling, I nodded after a second of silence. Returning with her own reassuring smile, she hurried to follow the rest of the senshi. The room felt so… quiet. Like if I walked down the street, I'd be the only one around for miles. And there my best friends are, fighting with everything they have, while I just… sit here and wait.

God. I'm so useless.

Struggling to stand steady onto my feet, I stared through the open door they all had ran out of, the path leading down the open space barely lit in the night. I can't sit back while my friends get hurt by some monster. I have to fight.

"Moon Prism Power!" I heard myself shouting, shooting my hand straight up into the air, awaiting any kind of power. Tears watered my eyes when I realized no reaction came. Deeply, I breathed in. Maybe if I relax my powers will come back to me. They have to. They... just do.

"Moon... Prism Power!"

Still nothing came to me.

"Moon…" I started out weakly, blinking my tears away. My arm, still stiff, slowly began to shake, following with the rest of my body. I collapsed onto my knees, my body giving way to my own weight. Head hung down almost to meet the floor, I could barely give myself strength to look forward without starting to cry.

"Why… Is this happening to me?" I choked through the silence, almost expecting some nameless voice to answer me within the hollow depths of the room.

Before my brain could realize my actions, I felt myself abruptly pushing myself onto my two feet within seconds, sprinting out the opened sliding doors even before I could fully stand.

"Mako-chan!" Minako yelled in horror as an ugly two-headed green creature blasted Jupiter with a powerful laser beam that smashed her up against a solid brick wall. Rei, about to attack the monster in rage, lifted her arm up.

"Burni—" she started, the youma whipping one of it's extended arms up against her quickly, sending her flying into the darkness of the street.

One by one, I watched in complete panic as my friends were being pummeled into oblivion with no hope of defending themselves. I could only stare from a distance, wide-eyed, helpless.

"Mercury!" Venus shouted. "Combine attacks!"

The aqua senshi nodded, starting her attack, "Shabon—"

"Crescent—"

A scream escaped both as the horrible creature swooped both of its long arms with ease, pressing its palms harshly against their throats as they were slammed onto the hard pavement. A smirk surfaced on its face.

I gripped my hands together so tight, I thought blood might start dripping from where my fingers dug into the skin of my hand.

"Stop!" I shouted at the top of my voice, appearing directly in front of the ugly creature, seeing its face half-hidden by a distorted white plastered mask, the other half revealed when it looked toward me, deep gashing scars tightening around a seemingly normal, almost human face. Coldly the monster set its gaze at me, waiting cautiously for my next move.

"You don't deserve to hurt people… my friends… like this. They mean the world to me, and I can't let you hurt them!"

Grunting, it released its grip on Minako and Ami and let them fall to the ground, setting its sights onto me instead. Its red eye flickering, it stared steadily, studying me from head to toe. At first I thought the thing would attack me without hesitation so I prepared for a firm tackle, but when it continued its stealthy roaming of my form, I began to worry. Was it thinking about kidnapping me? Killing me in one swift blow? Ripping my head off and tossing it across the ground only for it to roll into the sewer? Ew…

He or she or whatever squinted its one revealed eye for half a second, and as if it had a better engagement to attend to, it crouched its legs and sprung itself clear into the air without another trace left behind. The overcast night sky covered its tracks as it disappeared into an oncoming cloud. Makoto carefully limped over to where we stood, shoulders heavy, fuku torn apart around her torso.

"What the hell was that?" she coughed out, the rest of us exchanging glances, gathering around the spot where it took its leave.

"I wish I knew…" I told her. Rei and Ami pressed themselves up into a sitting position, wearing the same confused expression.

"Well, whatever it was…" Rei started out, pausing for a moment, "seemed to be afraid of you, Usagi-chan."

"I… wasn't transformed though. Why would it be afraid?"

She shook her head slightly, tilting her gaze up toward the sky to where the monster retreated, the tiny hole in the cloud retracting back to its original lumpy form.

"Good question."


I twirled my fork against my untouched spaghetti, watching the strands wrap around the metal. Even my appetite took a harsh blow when I realized the senshi and I were in way over our heads. I had no idea things were so… serious. Usually by now Ami or Rei could predict SOMETHING about our situation, but the only lead we had currently sat next to me on the couch. Mind you, I'm keeping a safe distance. You never know.

"Odango," he suddenly said. "You haven't eaten a bite. Is my food that horrible?"

Realizing he was right, I set my fork down. "No… 'Course not."

"Well, I didn't poison it or anything. I prefer the toaster in the bathtub method."

I let out a laugh, swirling the pasta into two little piles, pretending the meatballs were at war with each other and the piles were their only defenses against each other. Guess I can take playing with your food to a whole new level. I even made up a story how Admiral Meatless lost his ranking and was planning revenge against his superior by bombing him with wads of tomato sauce.

Yeah. I need a life.

"No, nothing's wrong with your cooking."

"Then what's wrong? Usually your mouth sucks up the food before it can reach the plate," he said, chuckling at his own lame joke. Yeah, yuck it up, you're not the one sitting here while your friends are a hair close to being killed, and it's all your own fault.

I lifted my nose up in the air. "I'll ignore that because I happen to be a lady that doesn't respond to such lame jokes."

"A lady?" he started laughing, nearly dropping his food. "Since when? I thought the term for you was classified as an Odango. I.E. awkward blonde teenage girl."

"Oi, be nice, I haven't made ONE obscene remark about your eyebrows all day. I should deserve some kind of prize for that."

"What, the State Fair blue ribbon?"

"Are you calling me a pig?"

"I was going to say a cow, but a pig might suit your eating habits better."

"God, I hate you! I was trying to be nice ALL day, but you always have to ruin it, don't you?" I exploded, practically feeling steam seethe from my head. Fists clenched, I stormed off into his bedroom, slamming the door shut so loud, it could wake up the neighborhood.

The NERVE of that guy. For once, when I completely don't make any wisecracks, he barrages me with them one after the other. He has no idea what I'm going through, but you think he could at least sense something was wrong. I bet he did, but still didn't care. I hate him.

I plopped onto his STUPID bed, arms tightly crossed, not even bothering to turn on the lights. Not like it matters, any second now, my best friends could be pushed into another battle and killed, while I sit here, being insulted. What did I do wrong? Sure, maybe I'm not a saint or anything, but he starts it every time… and I don't ever do anything. Why does he hate me? Why am I forced to hate him? He claimed he couldn't hate anyone, but I guess I'm an exception. Just thinking about it made tears almost rise in my eyes.

"Usagi?" I heard him say from the other side of the door, softly knocking.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I told him in a muffled voice, "Go away!"

"Usagi… come on."

"I said, go away!"

Even though I told him to leave me alone, of course I hear the door open and a line of yellow light spilled through the open crack. After a few shuffled footsteps, a weight pressed on the bed next to me. I kept my face buried in my knees. There's no WAY I'd let him see me cry. Sure, for show, but not for real. I'd die a slow and painful death before I open myself up to Chiba Mamoru.

"Usagi…" he started slowly, like he was struggling for words. "I didn't mean to make you so upset."

I scoffed loudly, turning my head in the opposite direction of the spawn of the Devil. "Well, ya did."

"This is really hard for me to do, and you're not making it any easier."

At that, I fully faced Satan, restraining with every fiber in my being not to knock him one upside the head.

"Easier? EASIER? You give me ONE good reason why you can sit there, saying one mean thing after another, and expect me to make it easier on you. You don't deserve it!"

"You're the one that gave me the 'Satan' nickname! You're just as much at fault!"

"Well, if the horns fit!"

I could barely see a tinge of red rise to his cheeks as he shouted, "Can't you stop being a kid for once and discuss this rationally without the constant yelling?"

"Look who's talking!"

"You'd better not be calling ME a child!"

"Well, that's what I'm doing! Watch me! Mamoru's a KIDDY, KIDDY, KIDDY, Mamoru's a KIDDY, all day long!" I sung loudly, watching a rather large vein pop out of his forehead.

"I don't even know why I even came in here to apologize to some teenager with a two-year-old mentality. What the hell was I thinking?"

The room became silent.

"You… were gonna apologize? To me?" I whispered in a tone ten times softer.

"Yes," he grumbled. I could only gape at him stupidly while he kept our eye contact limited. Mr. Wonderful, APOLOGIZE? I didn't even think that word existed in his all-powerful dictionary. He said it when I was faking everything, but… now? About him being a jerk? Never thought I'd see the day.

"So… you're sorry about saying all those mean things?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in. This is a one-time offer."

"Thanks," was all I could manage to say. He stole a glance, returning it to the floor a second later. The stream of light spilling from the door barely lit his hunched form, but in the glow, I could make out a soft, almost handsome smile, probably not meant for me too see. Fingers laced, he rotated his thumbs gently against each other. Made me wonder exactly what he was thinking.

Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet, saying, "Well, I should be getting to bed—"

"Hey Mamoru," I interrupted lightly, leaving him standing halfway through the doorframe. "How come you don't have any pictures of your family around here?"

When you think of Usagi and Mamoru together, you picture constant fighting, countless insults, and the occasional taunting limerick. Anyone that knew us would NEVER in their right mind see us sprawled across his bed, me comfortably on my stomach with a cookie poking out of my mouth, and him leaning up against the bedpost, taking a few nibbles out of his own cookie. Not ONLY would Chiba Mamoru be caught skiing naked in the Alps before eating a chocolate cookie, but he would never, ever ever EVER, do it with his all-time nemesis, also known as moi.

The fact that we were alone in his room was just the icing on the WHAT-THE-HELL cake. Still, I couldn't help feeling comfortable around him. He's actually turned out to be pretty cool aside his snarling usual self. In fact, I'm liking him way more than I thought possible. I wouldn't spread that around, though.

"This is your mom, huh?" I asked him. A crumpled picture, torn on the edges and faded to a dull brown from age, lay carefully on the bed in front of me. It showed a pretty thirty-something-year-old woman, a tiny baby tucked between her folded arms, hidden by layers of a soft blue blanket. A shy smile held on her face as she stared down lovingly at the baby.

"Yeah… one of the only pictures I have."

"Why don't you have more? Not a photo-type family?"

He paused. "No… That's all I could find."

Blinking, I shifted so I could see his face. "What do you mean?"

He took in a breath. "When I was young, my family and I got into a car accident. I made it out of the car with barely a scratch, but they died instantly on impact," he told me grimly. He looked as if he was gripping his teeth together.

"Oh my God…" I whispered.

"I woke up in the hospital about a week later, heard some doctors talking around me. I asked about what happened, and they told me everything. When they asked if I could remember my name… I… couldn't tell them. Later on they told me I had high-grade amnesia. I couldn't remember my past at all. It was as if my memories started over from the moment I woke up in that hospital bed, and to this day, I can't remember my parents, my life, anything.

I stayed in an orphanage until I was old enough to support myself. Went from one job to another, finally got enough scholarship money to go to a local college, bought this apartment, kept living as best as I could. I guess… I've always sort of hoped I'd wake up one day with my memory completely restored. I'm still waiting for that day. Every day I ask myself why I left the scene unharmed, and they had to die. I could never make sense of it. Sometimes I wonder why I didn't just let myself whither away along with them. Something… kept me going. Something I can't even begin to explain."

Awestruck by his words, I couldn't come up with anything to say, so he continued softly, "… and those pictures, supposedly they're a hazard to my mental health. The doctors hid them from me because they said any sort of immediate shock to the brain, like seeing my parents through the picture, may permanently set in the amnesia, or cause damage to other parts of my memory. I didn't care though. I just… wanted something to hold on to from my past. Anything to keep me going through the day."

Gingerly I ran my fingers along the worn edges of the photograph, soaking in every inch of his mother's image. "She was beautiful…"

"She was…" I heard him whisper.

"I wish… I could've met her, and your dad…" I said, getting into a sitting position close to him, enough so I didn't have to struggle to look at him, at least. "…but, I'm sure they're looking down on you right now. I'll bet you anything they're so proud of you, they wouldn't know how to express everything they'd want to say."

"I don't know about that. My life isn't something to brag about. Yeah, I have a pretty nice job, and am able to afford more than necessary, but… that's the problem. I only have to worry about spending for myself. No true friends, no family, no girlfriend, no wife… Just, nothing," he said, a pained look held on his face.

"Don't say that!" I exclaimed, causing him to nearly jump in surprise. "I mean… You're really young, I'm sure you'll find someone special to be your girlfriend and even wife someday. Then you'll have a million kids and be so happy you'll have to go outside and scream your lungs out to show it. And how can you say you have no friends? Motoki's always there for you."

"That's true…"

"Plus," I paused. "You have me."

He shifted his eyes to another area of the room, half-chuckling to himself. "Yeah, there's you."

"I can be your friend, you know, if you let me," I told him, wondering to myself if I should say what I wanted to. "Hey, how come you never told me why you really don't have a girlfriend, anyway? And I'm not gonna buy that lame 'I'm too busy for one' excuse. That only works with overworked thirty-year-old sweaty guys that can only buy girls off the internet."

He shook his head, most likely at me. "I guess… to be honest, I haven't found the right person yet. I've been on useless dates so many times. Motoki always sets me up with some snotty college girl that thinks she can waltz in my apartment, take one look at the bedroom, and have the idea that I'll instantly screw her silly. Most of the time I end up sending them home and saying I have a pounding headache. I wonder how many times I've used that one."

"Usually that's the girl's excuse."

"It's always my excuse. I can't say I've found one girl I've liked enough to take past kissing."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second there," I said, my mouth dropped agape in amusement. "You're not a virgin… Are you?"

"Shut up!" he shouted, a red color rising to his cheeks.

"Aww, how cute. Mamoru hasn't gotten any." I laughed as he turned an even deeper shade of red.

"What, and you're not?" he shot back.

I stopped my laughfest, changing my tone completely. "Yeah, so? Gimme a break, I can barely go on DATES without my dad wanting to put a bullet through their head, let alone doing anything like that."

"Have you even had a boyfriend before?"

I became flustered. "Well, yeah! Sure I have! Tons! So many that… you can't even count them on your fingers!"

"So… that would be a total of none, huh?" he questioned with that Cheshire grin donning his features. One I loved and hated at the moment. The eternal question: To pummel, or not to pummel.

"Basically, yeah… unless you count Akio from kindergarten. We were playing in the sandbox one day, and he asked if I could be his girlfriend. I said yes, but everyone started teasing us, so he 'broke up' with me. I cried for a really long time over that, and I didn't even know what being a girlfriend meant!"

He laughed lightly. "That's kind of sad, in a cute way."

"Yeah well. I'm waiting for the right person, like you are. I actually thought that was Motoki for a long time, until I realized he was taken. VERY taken. Makoto and I were heart-broken."

"You… liked Motoki?" he asked before nearly falling off the bed in laughter.

"OI! Be nice! I couldn't help it. He was really really nice to me. I guess he became more of a brother though… My Motoki-onee-chan."

He decided to shift from talking about Motoki, thank God. "So, anyone else caught your eye yet? Some drooling sixteen-year-old, skirt-chasing dolt?"

"Uhmmmmm," I mumbled, tapping my finger against my chin in thought. "Not really. Why, you want to move in on me or something?"

While I laughed like it was the funniest thing since sliced bread, he eyed me fixedly, then said in all seriousness, "Maybe."

Even though I completely didn't get what he meant by that, I continued to laugh like a hyena on crack. Slowing down a bit, I lay myself flat on the feather-soft bed, arms sprawled on each side as I stared into the endless white ceiling. Suddenly a peaceful feeling washed over me, like I was laying in my own tiny bed, rambling endlessly to myself and the darkness of my room, something I've done more than once.

"Hey Mamoru… Wanna know what I pictured for my wedding?"

I barely saw him nod his head, and went on, "Well… I always wanted a pure white dress. Not the ones you see everyday, but a really magnificent one tailored by the finest fashion designer in Tokyo—no, in the world. Lace on each stitch, flowing thirty feet behind me, fitting me too perfectly that everyone would stop in their tracks just for a look. And… red roses as far as the eye could see; petals would cover each inch of the ground so when everyone would take a step, it'd be like walking on a cloud. All the bridesmaids would get a bouquet of them too, but I'll hold the biggest, reddest ones anyone could ever pick.

Everything else, the walls, everyone's clothing, has to be in white... a white-white, not a pastel white. The church would be absolutely humongous, bigger than anyone could imagine, windows covering each wall so the light can hit every bit of the inside. The groom and the bridesmaids have to be covered in a mix of red and white to match everything, head to toe. Everyone we could possibly know would fill the benches, row-to-row people, mothers, fathers, brothers, cousins, friends, acquaintances, all of them."

My words became softer and softer and I spoke them, but I still let the words fall out as my lids became heavier, "The groom… will be someone wonderful. Someone that will look at me as I'm walking down the aisle and only have eyes for me, like I'm the only person in the room… like I'm the only person in the world…"

I felt covers being pulled over me, warm from body heat. My lids became too heavy to keep open any minute longer, my thoughts drifting lighter and lighter to only feel like an old memory…