065. Deliver

Deliver Me

Words: far too many, I broke the rules, but it wouldn't stop!

01/05/15

As a resident on the night shift, Amazon Prime had been a godsend for him. Whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, delivered to his doorstep in two business days. The little sticky note on his door, usually left while he was sleeping or out at the arcade grabbing a cup of coffee in the few hours in the afternoon before his shifts always let him know that the package was at the front desk of his apartment tower, and he would usually swing by the next morning on his way upstairs, juggling the box and his keys, half-dead-on-his-feet, dropping it on the sofa as he staggered to his shower before dropping off into oblivion.

He'd never met his driver, didn't even know the man (or woman) who unfailingly brought him those essentials, and, quite frankly, had never given that person a second thought.

Then, when he'd finished his residency and decided that it was time to purchase a house – nothing large or fancy, just a house, since he had to move to a new district anyway, he suddenly realized how much stuff he needed. One day of shopping for furniture – Motoki's wife, Makoto had assured him that the worn furniture he'd owned since his high school days was completely unacceptable – was enough to remind him why he did all of his shopping online. He'd asked Mako-chan to make him a list of every single item she could think of that he'd need for the house, including any 'decorative' items, and he agreed to order them online over the next few months, allowing her to decorate his home for him. She agreed to his compromise, having seen how pale and uncomfortable he'd become in the giant furniture warehouse.

And though he was exhausted after an exceptionally trying shift, he sat down at his computer and browsed for the first dozen items on Makoto's list, comparing quality scores on towels and dishes and hangars equally, pulling out a measuring tape and gauging the size of the 'area rug' he would need to cover the approximate space in his sitting room that she'd indicated. When he finally placed the order, he thanked the kami for his free two day shipping and fell into bed, reminding himself to get new sheets on the next order.

Two nights later, when he came home, the usual sticky note was on his door, the usual 'Sorry we missed you, but instead of the normal message of where he could find his packages, there was another box checked, one that told him another attempt would be made to deliver his packages, between five and eight tomorrow evening. In the lines for the driver to leave a note, his driver had left a drawing – was that meant to be a bunny smiling at him?

Mamoru was confused, and so he did what he always did, and called Motoki. "'Toki, my UPS driver is nuts," he said without preamble.

"Hello to you, too," his friend replied with a laugh.

"I'm serious," he said. "The man drew a picture on my delivery notice, and didn't give my packages to anyone! He just ticked off some box saying he'd come back tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see – that's how it works in the real world, Mamoru, without desk clerks and doormen," Motoki said with a guffaw. "In the real world, packages are delivered when you're at home, and if they can leave them at your door, they will – but if they can't, you either arrange to go pick them up, or you stay home and hope to all the kami that you hear the doorbell. Welcome to real life!"

Motoki hung up. Mamoru stared at his phone, annoyed, both with Motoki and his UPS man. He felt a certain nostalgia for his old UPS man – always reliable, delivering the packages directly to the front desk, where he could pick them up the next day. It was lucky he had the following day off, so he could do nothing with it but sit and wait – he'd sold his old sports car and hadn't yet bought a new one – was still deciding on a model, and at any rate, an area rug, he was sure, wouldn't have fit in the back of it.

Home ownership was definitely not what he'd imagined it to be.

The next day, he slept in, after a long night shift, and when he woke, he enjoyed a leisurely lunch, with a large pot of coffee. The afternoon was cool, and he settled in with a medical journal he'd been meaning to read. He'd intended to spend the day getting to know his new neighbourhood, and possibly shop for a new car, but that was obviously out of the question, as who knew how long he'd be stuck at home, waiting for the UPS man to show up?

When 4:30 rolled around, he decided to move to the porch, where Makoto had sensibly talked him into installing a few lounge chairs. He set out a full pot of coffee, his favourite mug, and the book Makoto had loaned him when she and Motoki were visiting, some British classic he'd never read that was supposedly a satire of manners in the Regency period. He settled into the lounge closest to the door and began to read.

The language was a bit flowery for his taste, and while he could see the satire that she'd mentioned early on, it was clear that she'd neglected to mention that it was also a romance, and he cursed himself for not researching it before he started reading. However, Motoki's warnings about not hearing the doorbell ringing in his ears, he was loathe to get up and dig through the boxes he had yet to unpack and grab another – what if he missed the driver?

The story soon sucked him in, however, and it wasn't until a clear, sweet voice called up to him that he realised he wasn't alone. "Chiba-san?"

He jumped up, putting the book face down so as not to lose his page, and looked down to the sidewalk, where a petite blonde dressed in UPS brown stood holding a cardboard box in both hands, her truck idling in the street in front of his house.

"Uh – yes?" he said.

"I have your packages," she said with a sweet smile. Her eyes were large, and bright blue, and her cheeks were flushed with exertion. She lifted the box a bit higher, a gesture he realised must mean she wanted him to take it, and he clumsily rushed down the stairs towards her, fumbling for the corners of the box so he could relieve her of the burden.

"I'll just – uh – I'll just take this inside," he muttered.

She grinned at him, then, and a small laugh escaped her slightly glossy pink lips. "I'll get the others and be right back." She winked at him and spun around, the bright blonde hair under her cap flashing in the sun overhead as he stood there, holding a box that had to be far, far too heavy for such a tiny girl – she barely came to his shoulder! – as she bounced away towards her truck. He watched as she climbed effortlessly into the back of the truck, disappearing from view, and he realised he was standing there like an idiot, holding a box, when clearly she was coming back with more, and he finally turned to carry it into the house.

When he came back, she had three smaller boxes balanced precariously on top of each other.

"Should I put these inside?" she asked. "Or would you rather take them – it's only, I'm afraid if I try to hand them off, they might slip."

"No – no, it's fine, go ahead," he said, and led the way to the front door, opening it and leading her into his home, showing her where he'd put the larger of the boxes, and gesturing that she could put the three she was carrying on top of it. She looked around briefly, and frowned for a moment, but shook her head and said nothing, turning and heading back to her truck.

"Something wrong?" he asked when they were back on the porch.

"Nothing, I – it's nothing, I shouldn't say anything," she said, laughing, one corner of her mouth turning up in a half- smile.

"No, what it is?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"It's just – you ordered that big rug, right," she said, taking a deep breath, "and it doesn't match the furniture."

He stared at her, not sure whether he should be offended or not. If she was right, Makoto would kill him. And then she would drag him to another store. A store with rugs. And she would make him buy a rug from a store. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Are you sure?" he asked, frowning at the thought of shopping, at a store – a store with rugs.

"Well, it's rolled up, and covered in plastic, but I can tell it has a lot of red in it, and I thought that the colors would look really, really fantastic in a house with a lot of dark colours. But you've got a more jewel-toned theme going on in there. Unless there's a lot of emeralds and sapphires and purples in with those reds, that rug is going to clash horribly," she said, and suddenly stopped, probably realising he had no clue what she meant. "Girlfriend designed it for you?" she said, laughing.

"My best friend's wife," he admitted. "And if it doesn't match, she's going to make me go rug shopping. In a store," he added.

"Chiba-san," she said, grinning up at him in the shade of his porch. "I'm going to do us both a favour. You're going to refuse delivery of that rug. You're going to give me your email address, and I'll find a rug that will go with your color scheme on Amazon and send you a link. You can find the dimensions you're looking for that way. It's a little outside my job description, but it sure beats lugging that monstrosity all the way up to your door, and then having to come pick it up in a few days when your best friend's wife rejects it, and then she makes you go rug shopping – at a store."

He could have kissed her. Hell, he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he ran inside, knowing she had to be on a schedule, grabbed his business card, and wrote his email address on the back, thanking her profusely as he signed for his deliveries.

That night, he received an email, from bunnysmileTU, with a link to a rug that she claimed would be perfect for his sitting room. What really surprised him, though, was the request at the end of the email. She asked him what else he still needed, and if there was any way she could prevent him from buying anything else that would cause his friend's wife to make him shop for things in stores, since he obviously hated that – and she gave him her name – Usagi.

Over the next few weeks, they exchanged several emails, with her suggesting things for his new house that would 'fit his colour scheme' which was apparently 'delicious', and he would always arrange for those deliveries on his off days, so he would be home when they were delivered. They would make small talk for a few minutes while she delivered his packages, and she'd drive off in her big brown truck. Their emails became more personal as the weeks went on; he told her about Motoki and Makoto, and she told him about studying poly sci at Tokyo University. He told her about long nights at the hospital and living alone during med school and rooming with Motoki during college, and she told him about her insane family and driving a UPS truck and living with her four best friends, Naru, Ami, Rei, and Minako. He thought they sounded like the kind of girls Makoto would love.

It was that thought that inspired him (perhaps prompted by Motoki's constant harassment to meet the girl he seemed so smitten with) to have a dinner party. He invited Usa (when they'd progressed to nicknames, he couldn't exactly remember, but it had been established some time ago) and her roommates for an evening, and a few of his friends from uni, as well as Motoki and his wife. He was a fairly accomplished cook, but Mako-chan was a first class chef, so she'd agreed to cook for them all.

Motoki and Makoto had taken the train over early in the day, and Makoto was inspecting every nook and cranny of his house critically.

"Wow, Mamoru," she finally said. "Honestly, I expected to have to sit you down, and tell you very, very gently that it was all going to have to go back, and drag you, kicking and screaming, to the shops. I had no idea you had such an eye for colour." She looked around the sitting room once again, pleased. "You've pulled the entire room together so well from just the few pieces we got and the accent pillows I picked out. The artwork is really nice and that rug is utterly superb. I can't believe you found all of this on Amazon!"

Mamoru nearly choked on his wine. Looking around the room, he could see Usa's influence everywhere. At her urging, he'd branched out with his shopping. Speciality boutiques that had online shopping with delivery had played a key part in decorating most of the rooms in his house. Quite a lot of it was still from his beloved Amazon, but some of the pieces he knew Makoto was eyeing with particular appreciation were things that Usagi had picked from her vast knowledge of interior design.

He looked at Motoki for help. "Oh, Mamoru has hidden depths," his best friend said with a smirk.

"I can see that," his wife replied. "It's very impressive. Well done."

She continued to prattle on when she reached the kitchen. When Usa had learned about Makoto, she'd referred him to a specialty site that catered to chefs, and the kitchen was fully stocked with everything the woman would need to cook a five-star meal, and she was in heaven. "I can't believe you even have this!" became her mantra as she puttered about in the room, prepping some sort of masala-based recipe that she'd found online and hadn't yet tried.

When Makoto plugged her iPhone into the dock and put on her 'cooking' playlist, effectively shutting herself off from the world, Motoki took his chance to pounce. "So, your defective UPS driver turned out to be more than you bargained for after all."

"Usa's not defective, 'Toki," he growled. It wasn't the first time Motoki had made a reference to the first conversation they'd had about the girl, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything mean to her when she's here. She's got a big heart, and she'd take it personally. Usa's – not like other girls."

"And you're subjecting her to the fearsome foursome why?" Motoki asked, suddenly serious.

"Next to you and Mako-chan, they're the closest thing I have to family. She's bringing her roommates, probably because no intelligent woman goes to a strange man's house alone, no matter how many emails they've exchanged or how many deliveries she's made to his house. I figure – the boys will help lighten the atmosphere." He shrugged.

"Kunzite, lighten the atmosphere?" Motoki laughed. "The man runs your father's company. He's the CEO of a multi-national corporation with ice-water in his veins and dollar signs in his eyes. He's not going to approve of a student who drives a UPS truck. Jadeite might – he's still a student himself, living on Daddy's money, even if Daddy is off – hell, where is his dad now? Australia? – getting drunk with the wife of the month. Nephrite is – questionable. He had his frat days in college, which wasn't all that long ago for him – maybe two years? But he's settled into the accounting department at the firm now, and with his dad as CFO, you can bet if Kunzite doesn't approve, Nephrite won't. And Zoicite…well, Zoi will probably do whatever you tell him to do, because he loves you as much as I do. What the hell does his dad do for the firm, anyway?"

"Zoi's dad is legal," Mamoru answered, rolling his eyes. "And Zoi is finishing up his last year at TU, just like Jade. Neph just finished. Kunz finished three years ago, and took over so I wouldn't have to and so we could get his shady dad off the board, because one of us had to run the company – our fathers owned seventy-five, and I sure wasn't going to do it."

"Seriously, man, all those years of not knowing who you were, and then you turn eighteen and find out you own over half the hospitals in Japan," Motoki said, shaking his head.

"And I work at one of the ones I don't own," Mamoru reminded him.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation, and Mamoru crossed the room to answer it.

Jadeite fell through dramatically. "If you ever make me ride in a car with those three again, I swear I will kill you," he dropped to the floor, landing on his face and moaned theatrically.

Nephrite stepped over him, clapping Mamoru on the back. "Though I won't engage in the childish dramatics, I share the sentiments. It's good to see you, but I'm not sure how we're going to survive the drive home."

Zoisite came through next, stepping on Jadeite's calves on his way in, ignoring the other man's protests, and smiled at Mamoru and Motoki in turn, "It's been too long. I'm going to kill them all. Especially Kunzite. If I hear one more 'fuck' tonight, I'm going to fucking kill him."

Kunzite came through the door last, iPhone strapped to his ear, shouting at someone on the other end, and stumbled over the prone Jadeite, falling to his knees on the wood floors. "FUCK! GODDAMMIT JADEITE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FUCKING DOING!"

"That's it, he's dead. Someone help me hide the body," Zoisite said cheerfully from the sofa.

"I'm in," Jadeite grumbled from the floor, where he was trying to disentangle his legs from Kunzite's.

Mamoru reached across the both of them, plucked Kunzite's phone from his hand, and put it to his own ear. "I'm sorry, this is Chiba Mamoru, of Chibahiko Health. Akihiko-san will be unavailable until Monday morning. Please accept my most sincere apologies. His assistant, Ryuu, is more than capable of handling this emergency, and should be contacted immediately." He paused, giving the other man time to answer. As he suspected, it was nothing urgent, something Kunzite should have passed off to Ryuu in the first place. It was why they hired him in the first place. "Thank you so much for your understanding, sir. Good-bye."

He looked at Kunzite, daring him to say something. Kunzite's face turned red, but he didn't speak. When he looked away, Mamoru looked at the room at large. "Cell phones off – all of you, now. I don't care who you're expecting to call you. I'm collecting them all and locking them in my room. When Usa and her friends get here, I'll lock mine up, too. I invited you guys up here because we're spending the fucking weekend together. Not so you could spend the entire weekend shouting at your phones. You want to shout? Shout at each other."

And that was how he ended up in his room, hiding and silencing his friends phones when Usa and her roommates showed up, leaving Jadeite in charge of introductions, since he was closest to the door – having just gotten up from the floor.

"Oh, you must be Usa!" he said, turning to the stunning woman with the long, dark hair. "I have only one rule while you're in Mamoru's house. No honorifics! I'm Jade. That's Kunz, Neph, 'Toki, Zoi, and Mako's in the kitchen, I think. Mamoru's upstairs, locking up our phones because Kunz is a dick, but – whatever. So, in the spirit of things, introduce yourself by whatever your absolute closest friends call you, because for the rest of the night, we are all the dearest of friends!"

The raven-haired woman looked like she was going to shoot him later. He was looking forward to it. But at least the girl with the sunny smile looked like she was in the spirit of things. That helped!

"Well, in that case, I'm Usa, not her – she's Rei. Beautiful blue hair over there is Ami. The stunning red-head is Naru. Tall, blonde and gorgeous is Minako. And even though Mamoru said it was a dinner party – well, we're college students. We brought a few games, including a personal favourite, Twister, and some boring old board games."

"And, Usa's gonna kill me, but I brought a big ol' jug of punch," added tall, blonde and gorgeous Minako.

Mamoru walked in just in time to catch the last bit of that sentence and realised he might have inadvertently agreed to host a dinner party/kegger. Well, he had the next three days off, and he hadn't really partied even in college. Besides, Kunzite could really stand to loosen up a bit.

Makoto came out of the kitchen, probably to investigate the noise and shrieked in surprise.

"Tsukino Usagi!"

"Kino Makoto!"

The two girls rushed each other, and Mako-chan's much larger frame seemed to engulf the other girl as they embraced. Clearly, this was an old friendship.

"Mako-chan, I didn't know you knew Mamoru," Usa said, cocking her head to the side.

Makoto turned to Mamoru and smirked, looking around the house again. "Mamoru, would you like to clarify exactly how you came to have such good taste?" she asked, her grin getting wider. "Ugh, I should have known! I thought I recognized some of those pieces! This place has your signature touch all over it, Usagi! The jewel-tones were something you showed me ages ago, but they weren't really me, so I figured I'd see if they worked for Mamoru, and then you completely pulled it off – god, look at this place! You did a fantastic job! And don't you have that same painting?" She pointed to a smaller piece that Mamoru was particularly fond of, hanging above the sofa – it was a bit abstract maybe, but gave the impression of a cliff next to a windswept sea at night.

"Yep, it's my favourite. It's gorgeous," Usa agreed. "It's hanging in my bedroom over my bed."

"Time out," Motoki said. "Mamoru's Usa is your friend Usagi from Jubaan?"

Both girls nodded. "Also, dinner's ready. And, I see you brought all the girls – I've missed you all so much since you moved out here! I should never have gotten married!"

"Sorry," Usa said to the others, "We're being horribly rude." She grinned at the boys who were sitting around the room.

"I'll say," Kunzite grumbled, and Mamoru glared at him, while Nephrite just looked amused.

"Well, then, boys, let's feast, and then I'm pretty sure I heard my old friend Mina-chan say something about punch and Twister. You stuffed shirts need to lighten up!" Makoto said with a grin.

Motoki turned pale, remembering too many parties spent with Makoto's friends at their dorm their first year of college, and taking in a quick glance at the girls' outfits. Surprisingly, even the usually flirtatious Minako was wearing pants – low-rise jeans, but pants, at least. Maybe this wouldn't be so horrible.

Dinner was lively, though it had its awkward moments, where the conversation fell flat. Mamoru's table wasn't large enough to seat so many, and while Mamoru had insisted that the girls take the large L-shaped sofa in his living room, the boys had jokingly fought over the remaining chairs and loungers, leaving a few poor souls (namely Jadeite, Kunzite, and Motoki) to try to eat awkwardly on the floor. When dinner had been cleaned up and the dishwasher started, Makoto had found a large punch bowl, emptied the ice tray into it, and poured Minako's three gallon jugs of her special punch (a rather grand name for what boiled down to fruit drink and 190 proof grain alcohol)* into it. The crystal bowl and ladle made the rather garish drink look quite sophisticated, and Mamoru wanted to laugh at the absurdity of serving a frat drink out of $60 wine glasses, but he refrained. There was a lesson here, he was sure of it, but for now, he was planning to enjoy himself. **

After everyone helped themselves to a serving or two of the sweet mixture, Usa popped her iPhone into the dock on his stereo and put in an eclectic playlist of everything from 90s hits to current rock to obscure bands he wasn't sure he'd ever heard of. The music wasn't any particular genre, nor did it have any specific feel to it, but it was one of those playlists that definitely gave you a feel for the person that created it. As the liquor started loosening people up, it was the timid Ami that suggested they bring out the games, and Naru, who had been in quiet conversation with Nephrite, suggested Harry Potter Clue, as it turned out they were all fans. The game was limited to a certain number of players, so teams were chosen.

The game was abandoned quickly, as it was the most complicated game of Clue he'd ever seen, and even with Usa explaining the rules before the game, and continuing to explain as the game progressed, their alcohol-laden brains weren't absorbing them. Kunzite suggested Risk next, but he was quickly voted down – if they couldn't manage Clue, everyone argued, they wouldn't be able to handle Risk.

It was Makoto who brought out the Twister mat. By then, the punch bowl was nearly half empty, and they all thought it was an excellent idea. To keep things from getting too complicated, they agreed to start with six people, and the first six to spin a red circle were allowed to start. They would then be allowed to join in as others were eliminated until one person was the Twister Champion. That person would be able to pick the movie they'd watch after the tournament. In the back of his mind, Mamoru recognised that the likelihood of any of them being awake long enough to watch a movie after this was highly unlikely, but he didn't comment. He could already imagine the hangover they were all going to have in the morning, and while everyone was spinning to determine who got first spot on the mat, he subtly grabbed Kunzite's car keys from the side table and spent a few, frantic moment looking for Usa's before remembering that she and her roommates had come on the train and the last one had already run for the night.

He had limited bedroom space for guests, but he was sure he could put them all up for one night – there was no way he was letting anyone drive home in this condition.

When he returned, Makoto, Kunzite, Jadeite, Rei, Nephrite and Naru were standing around the mat, and Makoto had clearly won the battle for first spin. With a grin on her face and her teeth slightly stained red from the punch, she called out triumphantly, "Right hand red!" and then made a mad dash to shove her right hand on a red dot. Mamoru laughed and joined the rest of the party on the sofa to watch the shenanigans.

Rei was next with a much softer, "Left foot yellow." And her placement was more coordinated and graceful. If he thought about it, he seemed to recall her having only two or three glasses of punch compared to everyone else's five to six. Clearly, she was more – measured than her roommates. Jadeite's exuberant, "Right foot red!" led to his sock-clad foot skidding half-way across the mat in his haste to make it to the proper spot – apparently his red dot needed to be as close to Rei's yellow dot as humanly possible, even though there were four other dots (since Makoto was using one) that would have done perfectly well. He grinned up at her like an overgrown puppy and she smiled over at him gently. Interesting.

The game continued, and as the spins got further along, the game got more complicated. By placing himself so near to Rei, it was only natural that Jadeite should entangle himself around her, which he was obviously doing on purpose. Mamoru stopped paying attention to the game after a few minutes and started talking quietly to Usa, asking her about the house, how she thought it had all come together, what she thought he should change, things like that.

She gave him some pointers, and soon they were deep in conversation, the occasional shout of "Left hand blue!" interrupting them, or a loud laugh from one of the participants dragging their attention back to the game for a moment to see what was happening with their friends.

The ever-stoic Kunzite was the first to be disqualified, with an undignified shout of genuine laughter breaking his cool façade, causing everyone to stare at him for several moments, but his long legs had knocked out Makoto, as well, pulling both Motoki and Ami into the game. Kunzite sat down, red-faced and breathless next to Minako and started muttering at her, but Mamoru could see the hint of a smile lingering on his face, so he turned his attention back to Usa.

"So, I don't think you ever explained how you know Makoto," he said, truly curious. He'd only known the other girl for a few years, and he didn't recall her ever mentioning and Usagi before tonight.

"Oh, Mako-chan and I have known each other since Jubaan Middle School. She transferred into Jubaan back when we were fourteen, and we just – clicked. Seems like ages ago now, but I guess it's really only been about eight years," she said, pausing as though she needed to think about it. "Anyway, that's when we became friends with Ami, Rei, and Minako, too. Rei's a miko at the Hiwaka Shrine. Minako's from Japan originally, but she'd been living in England for something like ten years. And Ami was in my class, but she was really shy, and it took a lot to get her to come out of her shell. Anyway – it was really slow work, but we all just sort of came together, and started hanging out all the time, and when Ami decided to go to college, Rei and Minako and I went with her. Makoto was getting married, so she decided not to come with us. It's the first time we've separated in years."

"And you said Ami's pre-med, and Rei is religious studies, right?" he asked, trying to keep it straight.

"Yep," she agreed. "I'm poly sci, and Minako is – sort of undecided right now."

"What about Naru?" he asked, wondering where the other girl fit into their tight little group.

"Oh, Naru was there before any of them," Usa said with a grin. "Naru has been my best friend since we were little girls. Our mothers have known each other since before we were born. Naru's studying interior design, which is why I know so much – didn't I mention that? I find the subject fascinating, but – you know, I have to rule the world someday, so – poly sci it is!"

Mamoru started laughing, and the rest of the party suddenly fell silent.

"Oh, god, Usagi-chan, really?" Minako dropped to the Twister mat without even looking at what was on the spinner.

"Eight years, Usagi-chan," Ami said, with a hiccup, burying her face in her hands. "Eight years we've kept this up."

"I knew I shouldn't have let her drink so much punch," Rei muttered from where she was lying face-down on the floor, black hair spread around her.

"I'm gonna decorate the palace!" Naru piped up from the sofa, raising her hand excitedly, dropping back onto the cushions and giggling hysterically.

Mamoru looked at them all, one after the other, and wondered what sort of twilight zone he'd stepped into, because he was pretty sure he was still in his living room.

The problem was that no one else seemed to find anything weird about this. Not even the people he'd known best for the past eight years. Not Motoki, or Kunzite – Nephrite had his head in his hands. Jadeite was banging his head against the wall. Zoisite was examining his fingernails.

"You know, if no one had reacted to Usagi's statement, Mamoru would have passed it off as a drunken comment and forgotten all about it," Makoto piped up. "It's the reactions you're all having to her comment that are freaking him out."

Mamoru realised this was true. A poly sci major talking about taking over the world? He'd met plenty of those. In Usa, he'd probably have thought it was cute. He still kind of thought it was cute. Tiny little bubbly Usa ruling the world? That was an adorable thought. The fact that everyone in the room was taking her seriously – like she was actually destined to rule the world or something? That was seriously freaking him out.

"Does anyone in this room want to explain to me what the hell is going on?" he asked, as calmly as he could manage, given the circumstances.

"I have not had enough to drink for this," Kunzite muttered.

"There's more punch in the kitchen," Rei mumbled through her hair and the carpet.

"So, Usagi is the current incarnation of a long-dead princess whose destiny is to free the world from evil and rule the galaxy as queen," Jadeite said, still banging his head against the wall. "But an evil queen sort of – tried to take over eight years ago, and she got woken up too early. She came, she fought, she kicked ass. Giant ass memory wipe took place. Whole world forgot it ever happened. No big, life went on. Eventually, the people involved started to remember what happened. Except you. No one knew why. We figured if you were meant to remember, you would. If not, we'd never mention it to you."

"Except Princess over there turns out to be your UPS chick, and fucks it all up," Kunzite cut in. "And then gets drunk and starts talking about ruling the fucking world!"

Usagi started crying. "I'm sorry, guys. It was nice to have a Mamoru who didn't hate me – who didn't remember that he was supposed to hate me – and call me names – and pick on me. What does it matter that he doesn't remember all of it? Why does it matter if he knows I'm supposed to rule the world and he doesn't remember? He can know. He won't tell. He's my friend! He won't tell anyone! And I'll protect him like I did before! Remember! I saved him before – just because he doesn't remember doesn't mean it didn't happen!"

"Oh, god, someone get her a fucking drink before she starts blubbering I can't fucking take this shit," Kunzite muttered. "Nephrite, please, get Serenity a drink."

Nephrite ran into the kitchen, bumping into walls along the way, and walked back slowly carrying a bright glass of punch, handing it to the blubbering Usagi.

"Who the FUCK is Serenity?" Mamoru shouted, staring at the people he once considered friends.

Usagi raised her hand. "Princess Serenity," she said softly before taking a sip of her punch.

"All of you should just shut up. Can't we just get Luna to mind-meld him into forgetting this all happened?" Rei said from the floor. Jadeite was still banging his head on the wall. Mamoru was starting to think this was all some sort of bizarre nightmare. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa that Usagi had picked out, and he was having a nightmare.

He voiced the thought, and saw hopeful expressions cross too many faces. "I'm going to bed," he decided. "When I get up, we'll discuss this like rational, sober adults." He gave each of them a pointed glare before making his way to his bedroom.

He passed out, fully clothed, on his bed, and when he woke, the house was suspiciously silent. He crept warily down the stairs, to find the entire house was spotless. Every dish was cleaned, every decorative pillow Usa had picked out over the past few weeks was carefully arranged. Kunzite's car was missing from the driveway. His house was clean, silent, and empty.

A note on the polished ebony coffee table told him that they'd decided to give him time to absorb things. If he wanted to, he could call Kunzite for answers in a few days.

Three days later, the house was on the market, and Mamoru had taken an offer he'd been sitting on for months with a teaching hospital in Boston.

He would return to Japan someday, when he was ready to face them all again, but for now, he needed distance and time.