Chapter Eight
The cold winter air laughed soft petals of snow to the ground, their calm touches coating the world in a soft pillow. Childish giggles filled the muffled air, lighting the cool city like the singing of angels. The rain of feathery snow lay virtually untouched in the streets. Snowmen walked their dogs from the front yard, the joyful tinkle of toys could be heard as faint chorus, and thick smoke drifted from each chimney. All the world was good and bright, and every face held a smile.
"O! Shingo-baka! Don't go running off without me!" Stiff fingers fumbled helplessly with the laces, tugging and turning and grumbling. Usagi huffed a bit in the cold air and muttered under her breath. If it weren't for the fact the whole family just had to go ice skating today, she'd be still sitting at home sipping hot cocoa and reading manga. It was Christmas day for crying out loud! It shouldn't be spent out on the ice where you could trip and decapitate yourself!
Well, her family didn't really see it that way, but this was Usagi of all people. She couldn't help but smile a little at the thought. Giddy blue eyes turned toward the hot chocolate at her side. The thick, peppermint spiked brew slid down her throat in slow motion. Oh, this had to be heaven.
The cold snowfall was piling up around the edges of the rink, much like a blanket. The soft pillow of the snow looked so comfortable. The ache of muscle strain wasn't so bad these days, but she was tired. The disembodying sensation of hands against her face persisted, and she caught herself more than once today whipping around in hopes to see who it was. Gooseflesh mottled across her pale skin at the thought.
"Odango-baka! I'm skating circles around you!" Shingo taunted from the other side, playfully making faces. The sight should have irritated her since she hadn't slept much; instead it helped to lighten the mood.
"Come on, Usagi-chan! Don't be such a grouch!" Ikuko called happily, clinging to Kenji's arm as she waved.
She couldn't help but smile at her family as she finished tying. It was no secret she sucked at these kinds of things, but the fact that it was her family made it more fun. Shingo could be a brat sometimes, and her parents could be pretty protective, but that was ok. They were what made it all worth it in the end. They were the some of the only people who loved her anyway, even though she was imperfect.
The first attempts proved nearly fatal as she slid cautiously out onto the ice. So far, so good, she coached herself into the second step. Immediately, the skate slid out from beneath her back leg, and the world was made of painful, face-flattening ice. Shingo's laughter echoed even from the other side of the rink as she rolled tiredly to her side. One hand reached up gingerly to rub at her nose. Everything happened far away, in a fog of forgetfulness. Cold fingers crept unconsciously down to her cheek.
Weak and exhausted, she climbed up the wall beside her. It was difficult to keep both skates equally on the ice as she went. A cool wind blew quickly around her, nearly causing another accident as it went. It took a moment to steady herself again, and calm the jumbled nerves slowly coiling in the pit of her stomach. Another slip like that and she'd be dealing with a broken nose as well.
"Let's go home for dinner right after this, ne Usagi-chan? It'll warm you up!" Ikuko's warm eyes sparkled, and Usagi felt a little lighter. Christmas day skating was a family tradition, carried on from her mom's family. Even her dad wasn't too terribly fond of it, but Usagi could see even in that little act the love he felt for his wife.
"Hai!"
They played for an hour or two, her nose felt like it was going to fall off in the cold, and her butt had been landed on more times than she wanted to admit. But it was fun to see the family together, and it was nice not to think about anything else going on in her life. It was nice to just be a kid.
The unexpected came as her family was tying shoes instead of skates, and she was working her way along the wall again to get out.
Youma exploded from nothing, bursting bits of ice and cement in every direction as several of them marched forward. Usagi flew backward, connecting with the low wall and spiraling over to land in a heap. Shingo screamed somewhere far away. Everything felt muffled and dank. She coughed, hardly feeling the motion in her own throat. Frozen, fumbling fingers dove toward the zipper of her coat, scraping uselessly against the metal. She had to get to the broach quickly, before the Youma hurt anyone.
One cackled from the other side of the low wall, roaring in challenge as large metal claws scraped and slid across rock and ice. Usagi glanced over, taking a few moments to try to remember what it looked like. There were about twelve altogether. The girls were too far away for them to be of any real help for a while. She'd have to keep them distracted until the Senshi could get there. Whispering hopefully, begging that her communicator was still functioning, she called the girls on the broad wave.
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…..
Mamoru set his coffee cup down on the counter, ignoring the glaring eyes of the attendant. The downtown area seemed dead on Christmas. He'd never been down here during the day, and it was safe to assume no one else did either.
"Hurry up, man, I gotta get home. It's Christmas!" Mamoru nodded, not bothering to glance up as he did.
"Atsuo, what is your current GPA?" He asked quietly, eyes grazing the rows before him. The other man huffed and answered, almost ashamed.
"3.4."
Once more, Mamoru nodded, flicking a bit of dust from the glass counter. It was annoying to see the place hadn't been cleaned up from the day before.
"And who helped you with that?"
There was silence for a moment. Dark blue eyes rested on one piece in particular, shiny black and glittering silver. Interesting, he would have to remember that one if nothing else became apparent.
"You, but everyone knows you don't ask a lot of favors –especially not on Christmas." Atsuo's problem, Mamoru decided, was that he lacked the ability to adapt to certain situations. This had caused problems from the beginning, with the tutoring. But then, the dark man had only signed up for the brownie points it would gain him after college.
"This year I needed one." It was the only answer the underclassman would get. Brown eyes rolled in silent irritation.
"Why can't you get your girlfriend something on a regular business day?" he asked, now exasperated beyond repair.
"I was being selfish." Came the calm, somewhat self-mocking answer.
"Gee, that's a shock." It was hardly more than a whisper, laced with spite and frustration. Mamoru blinked.
"Excuse me?" he began to ask. Chilling fingers dug directly into his heart, behind his eyes. Cold sweat broke heavily across his skin at the feeling. She needed him, and he was well out of time to be doing this. "That one, and hurry please."
"Oh, now you want to hurry about it…." The clerk all but dripped loathing now and reached for the keys
"Atsuo? Shut up."
Even as the doors slid closed, he could hear the muttering.
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No fan girls meant he could transform wherever the hell he liked, and that meant closest ally, followed quickly by rooftops. He should have expected the Dark Kingdom to attack on a holiday, though for some reason he figured they'd do it yesterday since everyone was out and about. Today most people would be in their homes in any case. The link yanked at him hard, all but dragging him toward the park in urgency. Moon had been held back till the end for months now, and if the fight was still going that meant one thing: really big nasty demon.
He scanned the area quickly once he'd landed, noting a small army of Youma ranging around just outside the rink to the left. None of the Senshi were here, at least other than Moon. There was a flash of red boot, a heavy grunt of pain, and one toppled back from the group to land in a heap on the ground. Damn, he'd stayed too long at that shop, should have ran out of there the moment he felt her transform. She was surrounded, outnumbered, and without the other Senshi, she had no real protection.
Something broke the ranks of the enemy, sent a handful of scaly limbs flying through the winter air and through the wall across the other side. One or two growled from the line, and a golden disk erupted out of another. It fell, hardly making a sound, and once again Tuxedo Kamen whistled in amazement. Bloodied, obviously standing alone, Moon launched into a flying roundhouse that sent the next spinning into pavement and snow.
One hand whipped out, gripping a monster by the neck before ramming him expertly against a knee. The same leg shot out backward to slam a screaming heel kick into the slathering Youma behind. It dropped the battle axe held above her head; fingers limp beneath the pressure of the blow. The tiara all but disappeared from her brow, blazing freely in one hand as she spun to cleave the head free. She flipped, easily clearing the height of another and landing with battle axe in the other hand.
The tiara hummed threateningly. Two Youma slid upward from the dirt, grunting with the effort it took to stand again, three others appeared behind her. Sailor Moon stood waiting, dropping low into tiger stance with tiara held at arm's length from her body. The head of her axe rested easily against the ground, but she was tense, ready to leap the second they came at her. Tuxedo Kamen stood frozen, both in awe and fear.
The calm, perfectly confident warrior before him could have been anyone but the woman he loved. She was strong, he was more than willing to admit that, and she was determined; but this was not a girl against the world, this was a woman. The sudden aching thrill of desire hit like a kick to the crotch, nearly sending the man to his knees. Sweat froze on his brow, his eyes strained to take in every square inch of her from where he stood. She was perfect.
She was perfect. His knees trembled a little at the thought of having her. Moon was alert, dangerous even. Heady purple blood stained her white gloves in the dim light, the wicked battleaxe turned the snow grey and black. He could almost hear the steady, rhythmic breathing even from here. She was perfect.
They came from all sides at once, weapons glinting wickedly. Somewhere far away behind the scene, Senshi were running toward them. But it was without hope. They were too far away to stop what was going to happen. Moonlight turning the scene to liquid silver as all weapons were brought to hand. She screamed.
The battle axe flailed out and around, knocking away swords as it went. Her body dropped low, repeating the action as the Youma screamed in agony. The first few around her exploded, blowout knocking the others back. She swept to her feet again, side-stepping into a low horse stance and ramming the tiara directly into one's stomach.
Tuxedo Kamen shook himself free of the stupor as the tiara flared to slice another straight down the middle. Both halves exploded into dust, and she leapt spinning sideways through the air to carve the last twice through. He didn't even have time to cover the distance between them before the ash whipped away in the cold winter wind.
Wind whipped fiercely around her as the storm picked up. Snow leapt in a flying dance as she turned toward the early rising moon. Her form was hazy and indistinct. The cold chilled the deepest pit of his soul as she turned to look over one shoulder at the approaching Senshi. Something about her, it was like déjà vu, like he could see her doing just exactly that gesture a million times over in the same instant.
The weakness of his knees quickly gave way as he slid from his place of concealment. Even through the pounding of his blood, the warped and confused thoughts muddling his brain, he knew. No more games between them. Not tonight.
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A thrill of fierce pride warmed her from the inside out. She was breathing heavily, trying not to put too much pressure on her ankle. It ached after that heel kick, and she might have done something rather stupid by doing that. Rei would probably kick her butt for being so sloppy. And they hadn't covered axe training; it wasn't something you ran into. Part of her hoped her friend had not seen any of that; the other was jumping up and down like a child.
Blond hair whisked out as she turned to face the firing squad. She'd taken on a whole rank of demons without any help from anyone, and the overprotective Senshi probably would have a bit to say about that. They came racing up, out of breath and wide eyed.
"Yeah Moon! Right on!" At Jupiter's outburst, Mercury giggled good-naturedly and nodded her approval. Mars shrugged, though the tiny smile at the corner of her mouth was enough to hint otherwise. Usagi allowed the warmth in her chest grow a little, knowing that all those hours of training were finally paying off. She had worked so unbelievably hard the past few months with no success…until now anyway. A glowing smile spread across her winter-frozen mouth.
"Did you freakin' see that wicked flip she did! That was so bitc…"
An arm snaked deftly around her hips a moment later, the shriek dying beneath the muzzle of cool fabric and weight. Horror gurgled up from her stomach as she fought against the iron-strong bonds, just in time to feel the teasing warmth of breath against her frigid neck and a strong body at her back.
"Excuse us." Her wide, terrified eyes begged the startled Senshi to act. Too late, the ground ripped suddenly from beneath her. Their startled cries were instantly muffled as the velvet black curtain of his cloak blot out the night.
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When the inky darkness receded once more, Sailor Moon gasped in a breath of cold relief. Her eyes swam in a sea of black and white, accented in a crimson tide of softly falling rose petals. The picturesque black sky shimmered in hosts of twinkling stars that peaked curiously through the dead skeleton fingers of the trees surrounding her. She shivered against the cool feeling of the forest glade, wondering at the harsh beauty surrounding her. Jagged ice formations dripped from low bending branches; shattered against the wetly gleaming rocks and littered the ground like broken diamonds. What would probably be a stream once winter released her death-grip ran along the length of the small glen, empty and forlorn beneath the silvery moonlight.
Despite the cold, uncaring exterior coated in snow and ice, the falling rose petals added a livid flash of heart, and caused a tiny smile to inch at the corner of her mouth. Cold, yes; strange and other worldly, definitely; but this glen was beautiful despite it all. For some reason, it's subtle blend of alarming loneliness and the gentle lighting of a silvery moon would have charmed her, even had the roses not been present.
Blazing warmth spread throughout her body from behind, a single white fist hovered before her face to blot out the darkened sky. The gentle flush of heat against her neck and the sweet sound of his breathing broke the heavy silence of the glen. She tried to flinch away from him, but one glance at her stiff feet proved the act impossible. The legendary red boots were stuck solidly to the frozen earth, courtesy of hundreds of impossibly thick rose vines. Upon further inspection, she realized that the offending material wrapped far up her legs and held both hands hostage behind her back. A sudden thrill of fear gripped her lungs as she realized there would be no escape this time.
"Merry Christmas, Moon." He murmured directly into her ear, causing a thrill of excited pleasure to ripple across her skin. The fist before her eyes flinched, sending a waterfall of silver tumbling downward. There, dangling at the end of a slim silver chain lay a shard of night, trapped beneath a twirling vine of some kind. Her eyes focused clearly on the hard reflective sides shattered by moonlight. It was a rock of purest black, long and star-cut with two pointed tips, wrapped in what appeared to be super thin tree branches not unlike the ones above her head.
"It's not as perfect as yours was, but it will have to do for now." The heavy weight settled into the hollow of her throat as he quickly clasped it to her neck. Once the slack had been released from his hands, the cool piece slid neatly down her front and lodged itself just below the neckline of her fuku. He's claiming me like some eternal bride, she thought dizzily, wondering if he planned on sucking the blood from her neck.
No more smutty romances for her, she determined resolutely; especially not starring smolderingly hot men in black.
"So…why am I tied up?" she tried to sound valiant, even amused at the situation, but her voice squeaked and crackled in her nervousness. He chuckled at the obvious bravado, running the tips of his fingers along her arms from behind. Millions of little butterfly sensations tumbled through her system. Her eyes closed involuntarily in the aftermath; she'd never been touched like that in her life! And, once he found out who she was, he'd….
Both eyes snapped back open at the thought and her resolution returned. All of this was for Sailor Moon, not Usagi. Funny, how easy it was to brush off his advances when looked at in that light; all she had to do was remember the look in his frozen eyes and the words he'd so hatefully spat at her in the arcade last June. The thought brought stinging tears to her eyes, but she forced them back down. Crying was not an option right now. Pissed, however, was.
"You better not be seducing me." She hissed angrily, flinching her bound arms from his touch. He went quiet for a moment, obviously shocked at the molten rage dripping from her voice.
"For a woman so much in love with me, you sure hide it well." He mused in the silence, the muffled crunching of his shoes in snow reverberating from the empty landscape as he came into view. His soft lips were curled in a cynical smile that made her knees tremble despite her anger.
"I've had a lot of time to practice." She spat, shocking even herself with the intensity of her anger. One raven black eyebrow shot up curiously and he stepped forward to grip her face in his hands as a wicked smile split his handsome face.
"Would it be so terrible if I did?" He asked quietly. She didn't hesitate even in the slightest.
"Yes."
"Why?" He probed again, suddenly interested in her golden hair. He reached upward to finger a single golden bun thoughtfully, wondering what it must feel like through the gloves.
"Because you would be seducing her; not me." He paused in surprise, glancing down at her again as she continued. "If that was all you wanted, a nice little blow-up doll could do the trick. They might even sell them with red bows and a miniskirt if you know where to look."
Though he was disappointed that she wasn't melting at his every word and glance, a tiny swell of pride lit in his chest as he looked at her glowering face. No, Moon was not like the other women, she was a spitfire and knew how to deliver a blinding insult with the best of them. Damn, but that was just attractive! Not to mention the fact that she was one of the very few women who could probably kick his ass and make him enjoy it, too. His grin widened visibly, sparkling in the moonlight with mute appreciation.
"You have a very sharp little tongue, Ms. Moon. Let's put it to better use, shall we?" Her jaw dropped, almost as if it were inviting him to do just that.
"Don't you dare…!" Her sputtered rage was efficiently silenced mid sentence as warm, soft, smooth lips caught against her mouth. Her angry cry suddenly sounded like a girlish whimper, the frantic straining against the vines at her back melted into a quiet shudder as his arms wrapped around her. The wobbliness of her knees no longer mattered, since as far as she could tell, she didn't have legs anymore. The battle was lost the moment he nibbled at her lower lip and deftly slid his tongue deep into her mouth.
Tuxedo Kamen felt her literally melt into his arms and couldn't help but smile against her. She could try to tell herself she could resist, but that meant nothing the second he actually touched her. He'd seen her reaction earlier and had grinned helplessly; glad to know he affected her equally well. Now, with her tiny body shivering against his, it just felt right. She tasted like Christmas; warm chocolate and cider, a hint of peppermint that sizzled in the cool winter air against his tongue. It was soft and inviting, made him think of the home he'd never had, made him think of all the things he could have through her.
The thought sprouted a new feeling, one that no longer rang as desire, or longing; it was deeper and softer. Her head tilted to the side effortlessly as the kisses deepened, her soft groan of desire like music in the otherwise silent night. He took a moment to wrap the cloak around her form. She murmured her thanks against his mouth between each gentle entanglement, her own moving against his more and more as her confidence grew.
The real fun began the second her shy little tongue flicked against his inner lip. At his grunt of approval, she pressed herself flush against him and caught his open mouth in wild abandon. His arms tightened around her, feeling the unbearable heat of her body, her searing tongue burning a path through his. His eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure, a deep-throated moan and a soft curse before she claimed him again, this time in complete control.
He had thought this kiss would be his way to prove superiority, his experience. But no, her intensity and fire no longer simmered behind cool glares and harsh words. It scorched him, tore through him with such ardor that it had to have been pent up for years, decades even. And he surrendered himself to it, allowing the plants around her wrists and feet to shrivel back into the wintery earth.
His own white gloves were ripped off and he finally got a good long feel of her golden hair wrapped around every finger. Her skin was soft like her rose, body just as firm and youthful with a hint of muscle tone beneath the perfectly smooth skin. His fingers followed the line from her shoulders, down the curve of her back and across the ruffled skirt at her hips. Her hands quickly seeped into his coat, tore at his shirt, ripped little cuts into his neck and tangled demandingly in his hair. He returned the passion full force, lifting her tiny body to crush between his and a nearby tree. She gasped into his mouth, igniting the sizzling peppermint with frozen air and sending his senses reeling. His hands traced everywhere along her suit, searching, aching to find some sort of clasp, tugging and pulling till the bow at her back lay tangled in golden hair and snow.
Once the idea of somehow getting her out of the suit proved impossible, he simply pressed her harder into the tree, fingers tracing down to those perfect legs. His tongue lashed out in self defense, fighting against hers in earnest, wanting to make her feel everything she did to him. She was now practically wearing his tuxedo jacket, body shuddering from pent up energy rather than the cold, and her wicked, possessed little fingers had un-tucked the shirt to wander aimlessly across his bare chest and back.
And there were no clasps, no zippers. He mourned the thought painfully, all parts of him seething to have her. This time he bent, catching her mouth firmly against his, tongue tangling against hers and knowing…knowing he couldn't have her. Not tonight. It didn't ruin his efforts to return the pleasure she'd given for the past few minutes, though. Even knowing as he knew, he couldn't pull away, couldn't make himself stop. All he could do was give in and wait for her to take the next step. He only hoped she would take pity on them both and give in to the moment by detransforming, because anything short of that wouldn't work out. Her aching, frustrated mewl mirrored his feelings before her tongue burned a particularly hot little flick into his mouth and she pulled away again, her teeth biting into his lower lip as she went.
Mamoru cursed at the thrill of white-hot pain, the taste of his own blood. Forget all that talk; it was happening tonight even if he had to tear the suit from her body! Part of him wished he'd brought her somewhere a little more suitable, like the apartment. It was too late now, he surmised before leaning in for another hungry kiss. But she yanked herself back, this time in fear.
"Oh, Mamoru-san, I-I'm sorry…" she muttered, attempting to free her arms from his crisp white button-up. His eyes shot open, heavily drugged by her, to watch her adorably flushing face turn away from him in mute horror at her actions.
"You're…sorry?" he muttered in confusion before breaking out in rich, dark laughter. The hand at her waist detangled itself from the now ruined blue fabric and rose to his mouth. He burned and ached, hardly noting the fact that she'd drawn the blood that stood out against the moonlight on his fingertips. "I should be thanking you."
Her still tantalizingly warm body shuddered in attraction at the tone of his voice as his hand returned to her side. He drew in a deep breath, leaning wetly suckling kisses on her neck, marking her high enough that anyone could see it. She's mine, he all but howled to the world. Touch her and die.
Usagi couldn't help the groan, though she was quickly regaining her senses. She had just made out with her secret crush very intimately, in fact her body was still plastered along the length of him and pinned to a tree in the most compromising position she'd ever found herself in. And he still didn't know her name.
"Mamoru-san, we can't do this." She whispered quietly, almost afraid what his reaction would be. Her hands retracted from his jacket and hair as she tried again to pull herself free from him a second time. The unmoving braces of his arms didn't budge beneath her efforts as he chuckled into the hollow of her throat.
"Oh trust me, we can." His face rose into her vision, eyes slanted and dark with hunger. Glimmering wetly from his mouth, the blood she'd drawn; it reminded her sharply of her earlier thoughts of vampires and once again revived the sense of imprisonment. "If you don't like getting a little messy, you shouldn't have bit me, you flirt." Her hand caught his quickly moving lips, effectively stopping the next kiss.
"No, I mean we can't do this. I'm not ready, and you don't even know who I am." His disbelief showed visibly despite the dim lighting. One hand gripped her wrist from his mouth swiftly, though the other wouldn't allow her to budge as he kissed her tiny fingertips one by one.
"Tell me your name, and I'll know who to thank." His eyes were glittering with mischief as he leaned in close enough to brush against her mouth as he spoke. "And if you're kisses were any indication, you're more than ready." His soft kiss landed neatly on her cheek as she turned away.
"Stop, Mamoru-san. I'm not kidding." His body tensed at the guilty flush burning into her cheeks and he suddenly found himself breathing very slowly as the gears began to turn. Shock gradually crept onto his face as he stared at her in the silence.
"You're a virgin." Her impossibly thick eyelashes fluttered as her eyes focused anywhere but his accusing glare. A soft laugh of surprise and amusement issued from deep in his throat as the arms around her loosened a fraction. "I don't believe it. You've got to be kidding me! How old are you?"
Her eyelashes fluttered again, the blush deepening as she finally looked up at him. With her hair coated in red rose petals, her mouth flushed and full, her cheeks stained the most enchanting shade he'd ever seen in his life, he suddenly realized that the love of his life could be young. Very young. But that was impossible, because given her kisses, she had to be more experienced…
"Are you even legal?" She nodded hesitantly, but was now nearly glowing. He cursed rather fluently, knowing his little nighttime pleasure was at an abrupt end. Yes she was legal, but only barely. "Well who in the HELL taught you how to kiss then, damnit!? I'm going to chase his little punk-ass down, thank him for training you up right, then slowly murder him!"
His enraged declaration would have been completely terrifying, given the stream of blood dribbling down his chin, but Usagi felt a little tickle in her gut and a smile beginning to tug at her mouth. She bit her lips to keep her amusement at bay, but it was hopeless. This whole situation was completely hopeless. A dark eyebrow rose in curiosity when he realized she was silently laughing at him through crystal clear eyes. The ridiculousness of his own outburst finally sunk in, and he found himself chuckling alongside her girlish giggles.
He pulled out the handkerchief in his breast pocket to wipe at the stream, amazed at just how hard she must have bit him. It was starting to throb now, and stung wickedly at the touch of silk. She quieted instantly, reaching upward to brush her fingertips along his hand and mouth.
"I am really sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you." She murmured, her tone serious and small as she deftly stole the handkerchief and began to wipe at his cut motherly. The soft feeling from before expanded in his chest and he found himself smiling at her warmly. It was a bit of a novel feeling, really, to have someone to take care of you. It was something he'd never had before.
"That feels a lot better when you do it." He whispered, aching to lean in for another kiss from her upturned little mouth. She looked like she was concentrating so hard not to hurt him, and seemed completely comfortable lying in his arms, pinned hard to a tree. She treated it almost as if it were second nature; and that bothered him a little bit. He was the kind of guy that ordered his textbooks in the wrapping; that kept his shoes in perfect order. He didn't like anyone else touching his things or leaving their mark.
"God, I am so sorry, you should go in and see if you need stitches or something…"
"How old are you?" he queried, hardly listening to her sage advice. Her fingers stilled against his mouth and she gulped. They were so close, he could feel the nervous tremble of her stomach against him, see the fluttering of each individual lash across her soft eyes. She looked away quickly, face reddening all over again.
"Too young for you." The words were bitter and cold, almost as if she were remembering them. He hooked her chin thoughtfully, noting the way her eyes glimmered with the beginnings of tears in the moonlight.
"You're legal, that's enough for me I think." The murmured response was lost to her as she ripped her face free to look away again. A silvery tear dripped free, quickly weighted to the snow below them to land with an inaudible little plop. The vision caused a tiny swelling of guilt to press against his chest, though he didn't understand the feeling.
"Ya, well, if only you knew who you were talking to, that opinion would change in an instant." Another soft little plop sounded though the mute darkness and her hand finally reached up to wipe away her shame. Mamoru was at a loss, not quite understanding if there was some sort of throw-back on the statement. She sniffled adorably, almost childishly, her eyes becoming red and swollen in the half light. It hit him then, just how soft and innocent she was, that she had probably never had such an intense moment with anyone before, and that he was pushing a very sensitive button.
"Sh, hey…hey, Moon, come on. Are you ok?" The awkwardness of the situation struck him; he'd never had a time in his life where he'd wanted to help a crying girl. He suddenly realized that he had no idea how to help her, how to make the crying stop. It was like she was…broken or something…and he just needed some glue to stick her back together. Right? He awkwardly ran his fingers across her face, wiping at a tear like he'd seen done in a movie somewhere.
"Don't, please…I…I just want to go home. Just home." She whispered brokenly, evading his fingers and pushing at his chest. He stepped back, ripping the cloak free to wrap around her. He honestly had no idea what to do. Partially panicked that he had somehow hurt the love of his life, he fought for any idea how to make it better.
"Hey, Moon, come on. I'll take you back to the city, k? I didn't mean to scare you or…hurt you…" he muttered awkwardly, suddenly feeling like a child. "Let me make it up to you, k?"
She rubbed tired hands across her face, feeling the heartache eat her alive. He was being so sweet. He had no idea what a lie this whole thing was, no idea what lay waiting on the other side. His fingers brushed her face again, lifting her swollen eyes to look at the waiting bundle in his hands.
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…..
The communicator was going crazy in her subspace pocket, and quickly began screaming the second he set her down outside the park. She could hardly look at him as she wiped at the tears streaming from her eyes. She felt like such a child. Who did that anyway while making out with their crush? She just blurted it out and he'd looked so…she didn't even know how to name that look. It made her feel like little red riding hood.
"Hai." She answered, fumbling with the weight in her other hand.
"Moon! What the hell was that!? We come rushing in to save your sorry…." Mars launched into her tirade the second the communication line opened up. Moon winced, glancing back at his dark form behind her.
"I'll leave you to it. Thank you for the present. And I'm sorry for scaring you." He gripped her cheek and pressed warm lips to her forehead. The gesture was sweet and endearing; she wanted very much to lose herself in it. Instead, he backed away and disappeared over the edge of the rooftop beside her. Once more, she fumbled with the weight of her present in one hand and began walking toward the arena. Mars voice continued somewhere in the background as she thought. The stone at her neck felt warm and pleasant against the skin, both objects a strange anchor to reality. She had just been kidnapped by the hottest man alive and given beautiful gifts…and she'd torn his lip open in return. Nice.
"…in the hospital. You better get your sorry butt down here right now! He goes in to have it set in 10 minutes!"
"Wait. What?" Usagi broke through, bringing the communicator up to her face. Rei looked furious, face flushed nearly red. She also looked really worried.
"I said Shingo broke his leg! Have you not been listening? You're parents at least were just knocked out, so they should come around tonight, but poor Shingo's down here crying for them and they're out and no one knows where you ended up –including us, I might add. We'll definitely talk about that later! Get. Your. Butt. Down. Here. Now."
"H-hai!"
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…..
Mamoru slid the porch door open slowly, not too worried about being seen tonight of all nights. The streets were empty; the other drapes across the alley were drawn on each window. He was alone in the world right now, and it no longer felt right. The unsettling knowledge he'd gained came as a bit of a shock. He walked directly to the other side of the room and ripped the list from the wall in frustration.
The past few months had been wasted efforts, none of the girls he'd chased down were around that age. He'd just assumed –she logically would have to be about his age. Anyone that young shouldn't have to fight. Anyone that young shouldn't be able to wear a miniskirt the way she did. It was such a waste of time to be looking for anyone he knew. It wasn't often that he talked to girls around high school age.
And none of that could erase the terrified, heartbroken look in her eyes once the subject had come up. What could he have possibly said to her that would cause a reaction like that? Surely even he wouldn't be that heartless to a young girl. He could think of a few faces, but hardly any names. She must really think he was a bastard.
Given her nature, it must have come as a shock. She was caring and loving, especially to children. Anytime they were in danger she stepped up her game to keep them safe. Often, after a fight, she would smile, laugh, and dance around in the rain. She really had seemed young in those moments. She had seemed carefree, and lighter than air.
Things had to change. The shocked, betrayed blue eyes stalked his every thought; every whimper burned the cornered of his memories. The words she'd used had been deliberate and powerful, words he could easily see himself saying. Yet to hear them repeated back was a riptide of grief and shame, too strong for him. The weight of it clung to his lungs and chest; sucked and tore until he fought for breath. He coughed, unable to help the reaction.
He was a bastard.
He'd never stopped to consider. Never bothered to wonder what she might want or need. She was so young, had never had anything before at all. He'd hunted her, like a wolf on a scrap of scent in the wind. No wonder she'd been scared and guarded, no wonder she questioned his motives.
Mamoru had always considered himself like the tall tower, proud and confident. He knew himself in ways others his age had not even begun to consider. He knew he could survive almost any situation, and had trained himself to do so. Others were like the wind; passing by at whatever speed they liked. No discipline, no pride to be had. To earn his respect, one had to pay the price and rise, story by story, strength of will alone, to reach the top. Few had done so. Few deserved that respect from him.
She had paid that price through nearly two years now; persisting and growing stronger every fight. Her last more than proved the point: she was his equal at least. But the other side of her, the caring, good natured side; he had no response to that. The closest relationship right now was that of Motoki, and frankly even that was often rocky.
She had grown stronger and improved herself for two years. He had not returned the favor.
Things definitely needed to change.
