A/N: GUYS! This is IT! I did it! I finished it! I just want to say, THANK YOU! To every single one of you, that read, reviewed, favorited, and encouraged me! You guys! This was SO much fun to write! LIKE, incredibly so!
Of course, I could NOT have done this without my besties; Ninjette Twitch and Revy676. I LOVE you guys! Thanks for keeping me afloat in this crazy fanfiction world.
Well. It was a slow burn, and I hope that this ending quenches those heated flames.
Please Read, and if you like it, Review!
Chapter 10
The muscles in her cheeks were sore. Her jowls thrumming, her ears popping, and still, she pursed her lips over the latex openings of the crimson red balloons that she was painstakingly blowing up.
In retrospect, she probably should have opted for renting that helium machine thing from the party store, but, it was almost midnight. The surprise party was early tomorrow morning, and it was way too late to go back to the store now.
"Whoa, where are you even going to hang all of these?"
She lifted her gaze, red-faced from the effort she was using to exhale deeply, to look up at Motoki over the top of the red plastic orb. Her sandy-haired friend had graciously asked his parents, who were the owners of the Crowne arcade if they could use the establishment for a surprise party. Luckily, they had agreed, which was why she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, and methodically blowing up balloons.
She shrugged as she carefully pinched the rubber opening and popped it out of her mouth. After the 50th balloon, she'd become somewhat of an expert as she tilted her head, the tip of her tongue poised in between her teeth in concentration, as she deftly twisted the material into a knot. With a sigh, she tossed it into the air, and it loftily floated amidst the sea of crimson red as she leaned over and pulled another one from its packaging.
She couldn't quite keep the sadness from her tone as she finally opened her mouth to respond. "There are tons of places to hang them; on the games, in front, and behind the counter…" she trailed off, cleared her throat to rid it of that annoying lump. The painfully big ball of emotion that seemed to be a permanent fixture as of late, and forced a smile on her face. "I know it's a lot, but I can do it by myself, Motoki-san," she assured and lifted the new balloon to her lips.
Motoki sighed, shook his head, tufts of hair falling onto his forehead as he bent down and picked up one of the balloons to inspect it. "There are more colors in the bag that Rei-chan left in the back, Usagi-chan," he murmured, a wistful half-smile splayed on his lips, and a muted sadness glistening from his eyes as he peered down at her.
Usagi shrugged, her cheeks tinged pink, and her gaze averted. "Crimson red is Harvard's color," she explained quietly, and though she wanted to say more, she snapped her mouth shut.
There was a moment, months ago, when she'd been willing to delve deeper into the feelings that she was sure was unfurling inside of her for the most important person in her life. He'd made it painfully clear, though, that he would only ever see her as his friend. His very best friend, of course, but still. His unwitting rejection had been a harsh blow, and it had taken a couple of weeks to effectively convince herself that it had all been in her head.
And for a little while, things had been relatively normal again. But something had shifted in between them, and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what it was.
It was like Mamoru was only going through the motions, and though they still did everything together, he was different. More reserved, and more like the impenetrable shell that all of her friends had told her that he was, but that she had scoffed at them with amused disbelief.
She'd thought that maybe the emotional distance he was putting in between them was all in her head. Until one night, at the dinner table with her parents and Shingo, he'd unceremoniously announced the news that Harvard was offering him an opportunity that he'd already accepted weeks prior to telling them.
At that moment, she'd been infinitely grateful for her parents as they gasped with unfettered excitement, the chords of proud elation laced into their words as they praised him and proceeded to barrage him with questions that, in true Mamoru-like fashion, he'd very patiently answered. She'd hoped that they'd been sufficient enough distraction to hide the fact that she was devastated, as she desperately tried to blink back the hot tears that had painfully pricked the corners of her eyes.
Because how could her best friend, whom she shared every single detail of her life with, manage to conveniently forget to even discuss with her this fantastic opportunity at a school a kagillion miles away!
She'd been angry with him after that, though she'd forcefully stamped the feelings down and plastered the same happy smile on her face when congratulating him.
It was probably her anger and anguished hurt that had spurred her to call Seiya the next day and ask him out on a date. She wasn't sure why she'd done it, except that she was furious with her best friend, and she couldn't even tell him or anyone else about it. Because, she had no claim on Mamoru, and this was an incredible chance for him to pursue his dreams.
She did like Seiya. She really honestly and truly did enjoy his company, and more importantly, he liked her back.
It was only when she started seriously dating Seiya that the painful distance between her and Mamoru solidified. Now, it felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, and even when they sat beside each other on the couch for movie night, it was like he wasn't there anymore.
Which, she supposed, was for the best. Since he was going to be going so far away.
Motoki's hand covered hers suddenly, and it pulled her from the tangled web of her inner thoughts. Startled, she lifted her gaze to peer into the warm, sympathetic, chocolate brown eyes of her friend that had knelt in front of her without her noticing.
He smiled softly and squeezed her hand in an effort to comfort her. "Usagi-chan," he murmured gently. "You know that you are the most important person in Mamoru-san's life, right?" he questioned his tone pleading.
She felt the heat creep up her neck and spread across her cheeks, along with that tingling sensation at the back of her throat and eyes. A familiar indication that she was on the verge of crying.
She forcibly swallowed, and adamantly nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered, her tone breathy and broken. "Of course, I know that," she lied, because these days, it was like she was grasping at strained threads with him. Despite her best effort to keep things as normal as possible.
Didn't she gush about Harvard on a daily basis with him? Ask him questions, and murmur in awe about how prestigious this opportunity was? All the while forcing a smile that was probably a shadow of what it had been because, he was acting like a cold, stupid jerk, but she was too terrified of losing him completely to call him out on it?
It was why she'd spent countless hours planning this surprise going away party for him. It was why she'd forced herself to twirl, laugh and smile while she'd painfully helped him pack up his apartment.
Motoki sighed sadly and shook his head, his expression etched with regret. "Usagi-chan, I know that I've told you this before, and I know that Mako-chan and your friends have told you on countless occasions," he began, "But, Mamoru-san…" he trailed off, and before he could finish, Usagi promptly interrupted him.
"I know, Motoki-san," she blurted, and pulled her hand away from his to nervously fiddle with the balloons.
If she had to hear one more time that Mamoru was in love with her, she was going to lose her mind. She'd thought that for a second, on the day they'd gone to the carnival, too. That perhaps his feelings were a little bit more than what they'd always been. She'd been wrong, though. Mamoru had never treated her any differently. It was her that had begun to imagine things. They were only best friends, and now, maybe not even that.
Motoki exhaled deeply with regret and frustration and leveraged his hands onto the cold linoleum arcade floor to push himself to his feet. Usagi purposefully ignored his probing gaze while she forcibly regained control of her emotions.
"Well, Usagi-chan. I'm sure you'll throw him a great party," he assured, though his tone was soft and mournful. "The cake that Mako-chan made is in the fridge in the back, and the door key is on the counter. Do you want me to wait until you're done so that I can walk you home?"
His offer was sweet, and Usagi could tell he was genuinely worried, but she waved her hand dismissively with a grateful smile. "No, It's okay. I still have a ton to do. I'll make sure to lock up before I leave," she reassured softly.
His brow furrowed, and she could tell he was worried by the way he shifted from one foot to the other and chewed his lower lip nervously. "You know, I don't think I'm comfortable letting you walk home alone this late," he murmured with censure and uncertainty.
Usagi rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the shy, appreciative smile that curled onto her lips. "Well," she stated, as she pulled herself to her feet. "If you're going to stay, you can help me hang up all of these balloons!" She exclaimed and tried for one of her signature dazzling smiles.
Motoki nodded, bent down, and picked up one of the horrible crimson balloons, a color that she had only just decided that she hated. He did smile in response to hers, but her expression sobered slightly, and she turned quickly to avoid the look on his face.
They both knew that her smile, though well-meaning, didn't quite reach her eyes.
oOo
The Arcade was closed for the morning, much to the dismay of the regular crowd of teenagers that passed by with various expressions of annoyance and disappointment as they read the 'closed for private event' sign posted on the door.
Usagi, the dull ache of exhaustion throbbing into the beginnings of a headache at the back of her head, flit from one section of the room to the next. Everything was perfect; the interior was beautifully decorated with crimson balloons, red streamers and Makoto had truly outdone herself with the white, buttercream frosted cake that she'd meticulously, with great detail, piped on Harvard's insignia.
The crowd that had gathered to surprise Mamoru amidst the rows of arcade games was smaller than she would have liked, but, Mamoru didn't have any friends that she was aware of at Moto Azabu, as he mostly spent his free time with her and her family.
For the 6th time this morning, her breath caught in her throat, and her head snapped over to the door as the tinkling chime of the bell above it trilled loudly and announced someone's arrival.
Her shoulders that were tensed in anticipation relaxed, and she exhaled a deep breath with the realization that it wasn't him yet. Her parents and Shingo, whose face was glued to another handheld game console, were smiling as they stepped over the threshold.
The conversation in the room that stilled in anticipation of the big surprise resumed as the corners of Usagi's lips curled upwards into the practiced smile that had become her armor lately.
She stepped towards her parents, who were, in fact, running a little late, and couldn't help but feel her heart constrict painfully in her chest with worry.
Mamoru had always been the most reliable person in her life, but lately, his excuses were plentiful, and he showed up to the arcade later and later. She supposed it was because that was less time that he would have to spend with her.
She stamped down the painful realization and pressed forward, because she was determined to keep things as normal as possible between her and Mamoru, and she refused to dwell on the fact that he was twenty minutes late to meet her here.
Ikuko's smile was soft and tentative as Usagi stopped in front of them. "Darling," she greeted with a tender tilt of her head. "This looks fantastic! You've outdone yourself!" She exclaimed brightly. Shingo rolled his eyes, and her father nodded in agreement.
Usagi forcibly widened her smile, and visibly swallowed before responding. "Thank you, Mama," she whispered, and her voice, for the first time today, broke with emotion under the knowing look of her mother's crystal blue irises.
Ikuko smiled wistfully, and wordlessly lifted her arms. Usagi couldn't help it, as she clenched her eyes shut to ward off the unwanted tears, and allowed her mother to pull her into a hug.
Ikuko wrapped slender arms around her daughter, squeezed comfortingly, then gently pulled away. Usagi chewed her bottom lip, blinked back her tears and sadly met her mother's gaze.
"Oh, darling," she sighed and shook her head. "Mamoru is a wonderful young man. We are so proud of him, but honey, he will always be there for you," she assured softly, her tone soothing and filled with loving reassurance as she leaned forward and tucked a golden tendril of hair behind her daughter's ear.
It was enough to break through the poorly crafted shell of contrived happiness that she'd started living in. Her eyes welled with tears, and she sniffled as quietly as she could.
Ikuko's eyes glistened with shared emotion as she firmly straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and stepped towards her daughter. "Now, that's enough of that, darling. Don't cry," she demanded quietly, and placed a slender index finger under Usagi's chin and tilted her downcast gaze upwards. "Chin up! Everything is going to be fine," she reassured, and the comforting smile on her mother's face was convincing enough to elicit the first real smile from Usagi in weeks.
Usagi nodded and quickly wiped away an errant tear. "Mama, papa, there's food along the counter. I'm sure Mamo-chan will be here shortly," she offered and gestured behind her with a renewed determination to get through this party without blubbering like a baby.
Her mother winked, and her father squeezed her shoulder as they passed to go where she'd indicated. Shingo had already melted into the shadows along the wall to play his game in peace, and Usagi took a deep breath, plastered the fake smile onto her face, and turned to mingle with her friends.
She was having a conversation with Ami-chan, her lungs constricting nervously in the cavity of her chest with each minute that ticked by, when, finally, the bell on top of the door chimed loudly, and Mamoru stepped into the arcade.
The litany of excited 'surprises!' echoed loudly throughout the room, and it almost felt like time slowed as she locked her gaze onto Mamoru. He stood rooted in place, cobalt blue eyes wide and startled, and his posture tense and unyielding.
She wanted to move towards him, and before things had become so strange between them, she would have. She would have bounded to his side, a wry smile on her lips and a playful twinkle glinting in the depths of her eyes. He might have responded by raising his eyebrows in exasperation, but then he would have probably ruffled her hair with a tender smile.
She didn't know what to do now, and it was awful. It hurt so badly to think that things weren't like they should be anymore.
The thoughts and imagined images of how things used to be was summoning those pained tears again, and she blinked them back, shook her head and slowly made her way through the crowd to her friend just in time to hear Motoki's exclaimed confession. "Usagi-chan was here most of the night getting this ready for you!"
Mamoru's expression was unreadable when his gaze lifted, and the unfathomable pools of his eyes fell onto her as she approached. "Usako," he said, his tone even with a tinge of raspy appreciation that made her relax. "You did this?" he questioned, a tuft of unkempt hair falling onto his forehead as he turned towards her.
She fought the urge to sweep it away, and, instead let the mask of her faux-happiness fall back into place. "Of course I did, Mamo-chan," she stated brightly, her tone edged with an overt sweetness that wasn't quite her.
His responding smile didn't quite reach his eyes either, and she thought she might just weep at the tension between them. "Thank you, Usako. This is… it's perfect," he breathed gratefully, though still with that odd distance in his voice that made her feel like they were strangers.
She shrugged, her lips pressed tightly into a strained smile. Why did it have to be this way? Was it because he was leaving, to go so far away? Mamoru was protective, he always had been, surely the painful way he was pulling away from her had something to do with that?
Motoki cleared his throat loudly, "Well, I'm going to go see if I can help Mako-chan with the cake," he murmured, though Usagi could tell by the way he shifted uncomfortably that it was an excuse.
The silence that fell between them when Motoki left them to their own devices was uneasy. Despite the intermingling sounds of conversation, the pinging of arcade games, and the clattering of plates thudding onto the countertops and tables, for her, as she peered pleadingly up into her best friends undecipherable expression, it felt like the sound had been sucked out of the room.
She swallowed around the lump lodged in her throat. "So, your flight is tomorrow?" It was a stupid question. He knew that she already knew that. Her parents were driving him to the airport, after all, but she didn't know what to say anymore.
His smile was small, sorrow-filled, and a wisp of what it used to be as he buried his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Yes," he replied. Then her breath caught in her throat as his gaze met hers and she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. "You'll come by my apartment tomorrow morning, Usako? To say…" he trailed off, snapped his mouth shut, then opened it again to finish his dreaded statement.
She interrupted him before he could. "Yes, of course," she blurted, her tone adamant and filled with conviction. "There is nowhere else I'd rather be," she admitted quietly, her voice breathy, her eyes wide and pleading.
The impassive expression that had become a permanent fixture on Mamoru's face lately fell firmly back into place as he nodded in response.
Her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled into fists that she pressed into the folds of her pink pleated skirt at her sides. This was ridiculous. She was angry with him, heartbroken by the way he had handled this entire move to Harvard and decided to just pull away from her. But the baka was her best friend, no matter what, and there was no way she was going to let the stupidly handsome, irritatingly emotionally stunted boy end it like this.
Her brows drew together into an irritated scowl. "Mamo-chan," she snapped, and it was the first time the anger, that was roiling painfully beneath the surface, tinged her words. "You promised," she said, and she couldn't suppress the accusatory tone in her voice.
She managed to startle him, and his eyes widened as he glanced down at her in confusion. "What do you-"
She interrupted him as she barrelled forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was a risk. She had no way of knowing why he was acting stupid, but she'd always been able to hug her best friend.
He stumbled back slightly with the forceful impact of her embrace, but he was used to steadying her when she fell, and this was no exception. "You promised that you would still be my best friend," she snapped, her brooding words muffled into the fabric of his shirt.
He was tense for a moment, but with a sigh, she felt him relax beneath her fingers as he reciprocated her hug. "Usako, of course," he murmured as his arms tightened around her for a moment, before he released her and she hesitantly stepped away.
His expression was not the strange hardened mask that she'd become accustomed too lately. There was a look of regret and contrition etched into his expression, but it still did nothing to lessen her misery. "Mamo-chan, you've been so distant," she murmured miserably, her fingers fiddling with the bottom seam of her shirt nervously.
He grimaced regretfully and raked a hand through his hair. "Usako," he sighed. "I'm sorry if it felt that way, I swear, I didn't mean for it to be like that. I just thought it would be easier for you if…" he trailed off, and left the rest of the sentence unsaid. "You'll always be my best friend, Usa," he finished quietly instead.
She nodded, though her heart sank miserably because there was still something trapped, unfinished, in between them.
She bit her bottom lip and watched as an array of expressions she didn't understand crossed his face. He visibly swallowed, fixed his gaze, determined and filled with resolve, onto her face. "Usako, I-"
Mamoru was interrupted as the door behind him flew open, and Seiya stepped into the arcade. His eyes scanned the room, and they lit up when they fell onto her. "Hey!" He exclaimed, slightly breathless because he was really, really late -like he usually was- as he stepped around Mamoru to stand beside her.
He was sporting his signature half-smirk as he casually draped his arm across her shoulders. "Sorry. I know I'm super late," he apologized nonchalantly. "Wow! This place looks awesome, Usagi-chan," he praised before turning back towards Mamoru, whose expression, she noted with dismay, had returned to the cold, indifferent mask that she couldn't stand.
Seiya straightened and removed his arm from her stiffened shoulders. "Sorry to see you go, Mamoru-san. Harvard is a pretty fancy school, right?" he said with a sincerity, that Usagi noted was slightly forced. She bit her lower lip nervously, her gaze worried as she studied Mamoru's face.
She generally tried not to speak about Mamoru with Seiya or Seiya with Mamoru. It was like an unspoken agreement they'd all made because the boys both seemed to truly dislike the other. Though, she couldn't really understand why...They were complete opposites. So she supposed she could see how Seiya's laid-back, often nonchalant attitude might rub Mamoru the wrong way.
Mamoru offered Seiya a tight smile, "Yes, it's a great opportunity," he murmured politely before turning back towards her. "Usako, I see your parent's over there. I'm just going to confirm the time with them for tomorrow," he said softly, his tone tender and wistful. "I'll see you later, okay?"
She nodded in response, and he offered her one more smile before pushing past them to wade through their friends that took turns wishing him well towards her parents.
Seiya said something into her ear from beside her, but she didn't hear it because her gaze was still fixed onto Mamoru's retreating back. Watching him walk away, even just across the room, was extremely painful. Though she did her best to deny it, she knew that things would never be the same again.
oOo
She could do this. She could do this! She repeated the mantra in her head over and over as she stepped out of the elevator in Mamoru's apartment building the next morning. A takeaway coffee cup from Mont Thabor clutched in her hand as she slowly made her way down the hall.
She wasn't really sure if her repeated vow was really working, because, even the thought that she wasn't going to see this stupid hallway, with its fluorescent lighting and its gaudy blue, carpeted floors, again was eliciting tears that welled up traitorously in the corners of her eyes. Just waiting for her to open the floodgates and crumble to the floor in a sobbing mass of devastation.
Still, she blinked away the tears as rapidly as possible, consciously unfurled the fake smile onto her lips, and continued onwards.
When she made it to Mamoru's apartment door, it was partially opened. She took a deep breath and pressed her shoulder against it, and urged it into opening wider as she stepped over the threshold.
The creaking sound as the reinforced steel swept over the linoleum floor of the genkan echoed painfully loud in the emptied, hollow apartment. Usagi took one step forward but then froze on the step into the living room. Her breath caught in her throat, along with the lump of misery, as her glistening eyes scanned the bare room.
It shouldn't have caught her off guard, she'd been here to help him pack after all, but it still left her feeling breathless to see every indication that Mamoru had lived here gone. Well,except for his bags placed neatly by the door and a few boxes that were pressed against the wall in the living room.
She bit her lower lip and clenched her hands tightly around the cardboard coffee cup that she'd brought for him as she forced herself to exhale and step forward into the living room. Her movements were slow, uncharacteristically graceful, as she fixed her gaze onto the Minato skyline outside the window. The sky was still tinged with orange and red hues from the rising sun, and she noted that the view was breathtaking even as she attempted to dispel the feeling of dread that pressed painfully against her heart in her chest.
"Usako," the low baritone of his voice felt like, maybe, it mirrored her own feelings of misery, and she swiveled around to face him. His expression was softer than she'd seen in weeks as he stood in the apartment doorway. "You're here," he murmured, and she felt an unbidden thread of anger course through her. Of course, she was here. Did he think, for one second, that she wouldn't come to say goodbye?
He cleared his throat and stepped over the step of the genkan into the living room. "Have you been here long? I just had to run down to the lobby to bring the landlord the keys," he murmured with an apologetic half-smile, as he stopped and buried his hands into his pockets.
Usagi sighed, shook her head when she suddenly remembered that she had a key to the apartment, as well. She leaned forward, placed the coffee cup onto the windowsill, and tried not to think about how agonizing this was, as she fumbled through her purse to find her ring of keys.
The silence was deafening, and her cheeks burned hotly as her shaking fingers hurriedly untangled the keys until she unwove his from the metal meshing and wordlessly held it out to him.
His smile was taut, wrought with shared misery as, with a curt nod, he leaned forward to take it from her. Her knees nearly buckled when his fingers grazed hers before he pulled away and slipped the key into the pocket of his jeans. "Thanks, Usako," he whispered, cleared his throat, and placed more effort into plastering a smile onto his face. "I'll make sure to hand it in on the way out."
Though she was pleased to see that he was just as miserable as she was, it didn't really make her feel much better as she nodded and, once again, the silence stretched awkwardly between them. Was this really how all of this was going to end? The boy that she'd told all of her darkest, most intimate secrets to, who'd grown with her, had held her through the most challenging moments of her life, and had promised to remain her best friend forever, was really going to just leave to a go to a foreign school for four years on this strange, sour note?
The thought made her throat constrict painfully with equal parts anger, and agony, and she was contemplating slapping the stupid coldness out of him when he finally spoke.
"Usa, I have something for you," he said, effectively pulling her from her anguished inner musings, and her gaze snapped up to lock onto him,
Her brows drew together as she watched him lean down and rummage through the box that had been left in the living room before his posture straightened, a weathered, brown leather-bound book that she'd never seen before clutched firmly in his hands.
He stood frozen, his back to her, and his gaze fixed onto the book in silence for a moment. She watched him draw in a shaky, nervous breath before he turned back towards her. She was taken aback by the pained stricken expression on his face as he hesitantly held the book out for her.
Her brows were creased into a confused frown, and her gaze scrutinized the way his cheeks reddened as she shakily took the book from his hands. "What is this, Mamo-chan?" She asked, her tone laced with confusion and curiosity as she glanced down at it, tested its weight in her palms, and reverently ran the pad of her thumb over one of the many scuff marks on its surface.
He nervously cleared his throat. "Open it," he said, his tone as ragged as she felt. She glanced at his nervous expectant face one last time before she slowly pulled the yellowed pages apart. The sheets were blank, completely empty, but the book automatically fell open, and there in the middle was a small rose pressed between the pages. It was aged, discolored and its brittle petals were frail. An indication that it had been there for a long time.
Her frown deepened, her heart thrumming faster in her chest as she peered up at him. "I don't understand, Mamo-chan," she murmured, bewildered, not quite comprehending what it was that he'd handed her.
He chuckled softly and nervously raked a hand through his unkempt hair. "It's the rose that you gave me in the hospital when we were little, Usako," he confessed quietly. She inhaled sharply, and her eyes widened when his sorrow-filled gaze met hers, and he offered her a hesitant smile. "I've always kept it in my bedside table. I just thought…" he choked on the words, "Well, Usako. I just wanted you to know that your friendship means everything to me… and I know that things have been different between us lately. But I just want you to know that I will always be there for you. So, you-"
His words were compelling enough to rip through the small barrier she'd managed to build to keep her emotions in check. She didn't hear the end of what he had to say, as she snapped the book shut and it slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground.
The tears she'd been keeping at bay fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks in torrential droves as a broken, strangled sob tore from her lips. She buried her face in her hands, her chest heaving with the broken cries that rattled painfully in her throat.
She heard his pained groan as he pulled her into his arms, and she clutched the front of his blue button-down shirt, her fingers twisted into the fabric that was quickly becoming wet with her tears. "Mamo-chan," she sobbed brokenly. "I hate that you're leaving to go to Harvard," she cried. And it was true. She'd vowed not to say these things to him, to send him off with that stupid plastic-like smile, but she couldn't reign her emotions in.
His arms tightened around her, steadying her as her knees buckled and she buried her head further into the hardened expanse of his chest. "Who is going to hold me when it storms? Or-or-or catch me every time I fall? Because I fall- so-so much!" She blurted in between truncated sobs. "Or who will protect me when you're gone, Mamo-chan?"
He didn't answer right away, though she wouldn't have been able to hear him over her crying, even if he had. It was only when her shoulders stopped heaving, and her tears and sobs of anguish subsided that he stepped back, cupped her chin firmly in his hand and tilted her face upwards to meet his soft, understanding gaze.
"Usako," he whispered, and his expression was like the Mamo-chan that she'd always known. "Listen to me. This isn't goodbye forever, Usa," he reassured, a comforting half smile on his lips, as the pad of his thumb swept across her cheekbone to wipe away the remnants of her tears. "I'm going to call you every day. If anything interesting happens, which it probably won't because you're here, I'll text you," he assured with a soft chuckle that managed to elicit a watery smile from her.
"If it storms, we can video chat through the whole thing, Usa. No matter where I am, or what I'm doing. I promise that I will be there to talk you through it," he vowed firmly. "And, Usako you don't need anyone to protect you. You're an expert monster fighter, remember?" His expression sobered completely, and he choked on the emotion she felt pummeling her heart as his gaze locked, unblinkingly, onto hers. "I know you fought mine," he admitted quietly.
She shook her head, strands of golden-colored hair twisting around her face with the movement. Didn't he know how much she relied on him? How crucial he was in every aspect of her life?
She pulled away with another broken sob and protectively wrapped her arms around her midsection. Her fingers clutching her bared forearms as she painfully dug her nails into her skin.
She swallowed down her emotions and forcibly blinked back another renewed onslaught of tears as she bravely faced him. "I can't go to the airport with you, Mamo-chan," she admitted brokenly. "I just can't say goodbye to you there." She felt awful about her inability to be there. It was reflected in her tone that was contrite and laced with tear-filled remorse.
Mamoru responded with a soft, understanding smile. "I know, Usa. It's okay," he whispered. "I'm going to the bank first, and then I'm going to your house to meet your parents. I knew you'd need to say…" he cleared the emotion from his throat. "To say goodbye here," he finished firmly.
The sadness in his posture, carved into the contours of his face, and glinting from the pools of cobalt blue eyes broke her resolve. She nodded, bit her lip to keep from crying again as she knelt down to pick up the book with the rose and reverently slip it into her purse.
She took a deep breath and flew towards him to wrap her arms around his waist for one, final hug. "Goodbye, Mamo-chan," she whispered, and before he had time to reciprocate her embrace or respond to her brokenhearted farewell, she'd swiveled around and flown through the apartment door.
It took every ounce of strength that she possessed not to pause and look back at him.
oOo
She wasn't sure where she'd really meant to go as she'd blindly, but determinedly, placed one foot in front of the other. Her vision was blurred, her heart a racing mess as she forcibly elbowed and pushed her way through teeming crowds of pedestrians on the busy sidewalk.
She should have gone home. She should have forced a smile just a little bit longer to at least wave him off at the airport. But she couldn't. She was confused, because, surely if he were just her friend, this wouldn't be as painful as it was. Would it?
She wasn't sure what led her to Seiya's house, and she hesitated, her arms wrapped around her midsection and her lower lip poised in between her teeth as she stood on the red cedarwood porch and fixed her gaze onto his front door.
She liked Seiya. She did. She furiously wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She had to like him because otherwise, she'd have to admit that she…
She didn't finish her thought as she forcibly swallowed, took a deep breath, and summoned the dreaded fake smile that hurt her cheeks. She only needed to knock twice before the door flew open and the long-haired boy stood in the doorway. A look of surprised confusion etched onto his face.
He was handsome, right? Tall, dark-haired, with chiseled features. She could learn to love him. Couldn't she?
"Usagi-chan?" He exclaimed, his tone bewildered and a puzzled look glinting from his eyes. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going with your parents to bring Mamoru-san to the airport," he questioned with raised eyebrows and a tilt of his head.
His gaze swept over her, and she knew that she must look like a tear-stained wreck. So, she shrugged nonchalantly and forced her smile to widen. "I didn't want to go. I wanted to see you instead," she said with a forced brightness that Mamoru would have seen through in an instant.
Seiya's face lit up though, and his signature smirk splayed out across his lips. Which, in turn, generated a thread of horrified guilt that coursed through her.
He stepped aside and gestured his hand to wave her through the door. She smiled, as she brushed past him, and wordlessly stepped over the threshold.
She'd been to Seiya's on several occasions to watch him sing in his garage during band practice. As far as she knew, Seiya lived with his mother, though Usagi had yet to meet her. From what she'd gathered in their conversations about family, his mother was rarely home, and he was mostly left to his own devices.
She inwardly sighed with relief when Seiya began to talk as she took off her shoes and let him lead her into the living room.
Seiya had many admirable qualities, but, he was definitely an extrovert. Overly so, and sometimes, she couldn't get a word in edgewise. It did bother her on occasion because she couldn't help but compare him to Mamoru, who remained silent, and whose tender eyes always observed and listened to her. Today, though, it was a blessing that helped to drown out the strange thoughts and feelings that she was sure she'd forcibly eradicated months ago.
Seiya offered her a drink, that she declined, as she lowered herself to sit onto the well-worn flower patterned sofa in the sparsely decorated living room.
He moved to sit beside her, and she wondered if Mamoru was in the car at that very moment. Was he thinking about her too?
Seiya laughed at one of his own jokes, a punchline she hadn't heard because she was wondering how she hadn't known that he'd kept the rose she'd given to him as a child. What did that mean?
She was startled out of her tortured thoughts, suddenly, when Seiya took her hands in his. Her eyes focused onto his face that was suddenly inches from hers because he'd knelt down in front of her.
She sucked in a breath, and her eyes widened fearfully, because Seiya had never kissed her before and, truthfully, she didn't think she wanted him to.
That was not the type of look etched onto his face though, and her brow furrowed in confusion at the doleful glint in his eyes, and his smirk that was now a wistful smile.
He sighed sadly, and his hands were warm as they enveloped hers. "Usagi-chan," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"
Her frown deepened, and her confusion intensified. "What do you mean?" She asked softly as she tilted her head, and studied his face.
He sighed again, and shifted his weight as he leaned back, his shoulders slumped, and his expression melted into resigned defeat. "You know what I mean, Usagi. You don't really want to be here with me. It's always been Mamoru-san for you," he stated sadly.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he promptly interrupted her before she could speak. "I should have known better, you know?" He began, his eyes filled with longing as they fixed onto her face. "I mean, I knew that he was head over heels in love with you when I walked through the door for that stupid double date, and you," he paused miserably and shook his head. "Well, you wouldn't stop talking about him. So, I bowed out. It was the right thing to do, but then, at the carnival. You were just so damn adorable, and I'll admit it. I wanted you," he confessed, his eyes glossed over with misery.
Usagi's eyes were wide and filled with horror, her heart racing brutally fast in her chest. "Seiya," She croaked painfully. "What do you mean you knew he was in love with me?" She whispered.
Her words managed to stun Seiya, and his eyes widened with confusion as he scanned her face for an indication that she might be lying. "Damn, Usagi-chan," he exclaimed with a shake of his head. "Do you really not know? You have a million friends! Hasn't anyone told you?" He asked with a disbelieving bark of laughter.
Her frown turned into an annoyed scowl, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Of course, the girls had said something along those lines… but, she'd thought they were just trying to make her feel better.
When she didn't respond, Seiya laughed drily. "Well, damn, Usagi-chan," he practically whispered. He took a deep breath, his face hardening with determination as he squeezed her hands and fixed his gaze onto hers. "Mamoru-san is in love with you," he began his tone firm and filled with resolve. "I thought that you knew, and you let him down gently. I decided that I could handle the way he looked at you if you were looking at me," he laughed sardonically. "I mean hell, Usagi. The guy is only going to Harvard because he can't stand that he's not with you," he professed with disgust.
Usagi was breathless, her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she thought surely she was drying. Because this was so painful to hear. There was no way.
She opened her mouth, but she couldn't speak, all of her words tangled up on her tongue and the only thing she could do was emit a horrified squeak of dismay.
It didn't matter, because Seiya wasn't done twisting the knife into her heart.
"Look, Usagi. I've always known that Mamoru-san is in love with you, and I think I know now," he took a deep breath filled with defeat before he smiled sadly, leaned over and longingly tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "You love him, too," he stated. There was no anger in his voice, only a despondent finality that took her breath away.
The tears welled in her eyes, because, he was right. She was in love with him. So in love with him that she'd been afraid to admit that she might want to be with him out loud. So in love with him, that his perceived rejection to words she hadn't even spoken had crushed her so painfully that she'd spent months ignoring her feelings and grasping at normalcy between them. A normal that had never settled again, because, maybe … maybe he loved her too?
She swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath as she faced the boy that she would have never fallen in love with, despite her best efforts, because he would never be Mamoru. "Seiya," she whispered. "I'm so sorry," she apologized as a tear slid listlessly down her face.
Seiya grimaced, and slowly pulled himself to his feet. His eyes were wistful as he stared down at her. "I know, Usagi-chan," he said mournfully. "Damn, I wish I had met you first," he said with a humorless laugh and a dry, misery-filled smile. "I think you should go," he said and held his hand out to help her up.
She nodded, took his hand and leveraged it to stand. Without warning, she leaned forward and pulled him into a friendly hug. He was caught off guard, so he didn't have time to reciprocate before she pulled away.
"Thank you," she whispered with a grateful smile.
He nodded, and she swiveled around, an urgency in her movements as she flew through his front door and raced down his porch steps.
Her heart was pounding, the blood racing in her ears as she fumbled with her purse and pulled out her phone.
She cursed loudly when the time flashed up at her because he would almost be at the airport now, and she didn't care if Seiya was wrong about how he felt. She needed to tell him. She needed him to know that she loved him, and that, no matter what, she was going to wait for him forever.
She could feel an urgency induced panic attack starting as she stared at the screen of her phone, her mind racing through possible solutions to her predicament. Her eyes lit up suddenly, and a determined smile curled onto her lips.
There was only one person that she knew who owned a car. Luckily, that person was reckless enough to ignore a few traffic laws to get her there on time.
Her fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone and pressed the contact icon on her screen. She could barely breathe as she swiped across the glass, and scrolled down until she found the number she was looking for.
She pressed the pink-cased device to her ear. Her hand shaking with anticipation when it was answered after the first ring.
"Mina-chan… I need your help."
oOo
She'd rehearsed what she what she was going to say, even as Minako chattered all the way to the airport. It was the only time that she would ever be grateful for her friends dreadful driving because she easily cut away half an hour off of the trip.
When Minako's tires squealed to halt, right in the middle of one way traffic, and propelled her body forward against the dashboard, she didn't hesitate in opening the door. She ignored the shrill sound of the horns from the angry drivers that had been forced to slam their brakes and stop behind Minako's little red Nissan.
"Thanks, Mina-chan!" she exclaimed to the bright-eyed, blonde-haired girl who winked at her as she bounded out of the car, and her shoes scraped across the pavement.
"Good luck, Usagi-chan!" Minako called out loudly behind her. "Sweep him off his hands!"
Usagi didn't have time to respond to Minako's well-meaning, though mangled, proverb usage. She was like a whirlwind. A blur of gold and pink fabric as the soles of her black mary-jane heels slammed against the pavement with each step as she dodged a woman pulling a rolling suitcase, and a businessman yelling into his phone.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and her lungs burned painfully with exertion as she waded through the maze of the airport, and prayed, with everything inside of her, that her clumsy tendencies wouldn't suddenly kick in and knock her to the ground.
She wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't reach him in time. She could call him, or text him certainly, but the thought of confessing like that was one that made her heart constrict with dread. It had to be face to face. She needed to see the look in his eyes so that she would know if he felt the same way.
She was losing hope, as her side began to cramp and she was forced to stop amidst the din of a bustling crowd. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration as she twirled in place, and her eyes scanned the signs hanging and flashing brightly from the ceiling. Flight to America. Flight to America… where are you?!
She was on the verge of bursting into tears when she suddenly spotted a flash of familiar lavender locks in her peripheral vision. She abruptly craned her neck to the side and could have wept with relief at the sight of her parents making their way through the crowd.
The blood drained from her face, and the relief was short-lived, though, when she noted that they were not with Mamoru. No. She couldn't be too late!
She was contemplating how long it would take, and how much money she had in her savings account, to purchase a ticket to get through customs as she furiously swiveled around and rapidly raced towards her parents.
Her mother's eyes widened, and she halted in her tracks as she was the first to catch sight of her daughter. "Usagi!" she gasped, "Quickly! He's just going through the gate now!" Ikuko exclaimed and gestured animatedly towards where they had just come from.
Usagi, breathless, nodded gratefully and brushed past her parents without stopping. There was still enough time! Her golden tresses of hair whipped around her as she weaved, more graceful than she'd ever managed, through the crowd of people that were slowing and lining up to reach her intended destination.
Her eyes were watering as she stopped, and propelled herself onto the tips of her toes to see over the heads of the family that stopped directly in front of her. It took great restraint on her part not to yell at them to get out of her way!
Her stomach began to churn, and her eyes burned with disappointment when suddenly, she caught sight of him. He was leaning over, fiddling with his black wheelie case, and her breath hitched, almost painfully, in her throat.
He was so handsome; tufts of unkempt raven hair that fell in front of soulful cobalt blue eyes. His profile stoic, chiseled and emanating a kind strength that she'd always taken for granted.
He was almost at the gate, and the realization spurred her forward, as the anticipation painfully constricted in her chest. "Wait!" she screamed, though her voice was raspy from the exertion she'd expelled running. "Mamo-chan!"
She could have wept with relief when he twisted around, his eyes wide and surprised as she barreled towards him. "Usako?" He exclaimed, bewildered, just as she barreled into him.
He grunted with the force of the impact as she curled slender arms around his neck and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around her waist, and she sighed with relief as she weaved her fingers into the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck.
"Usa, you came," he whispered, his chin resting on her shoulder and his breath fanning warmly against her ear. She could hear it then, the longing in his voice, and she was so mad at herself that she hadn't heard it before.
She pulled away just far enough to be able to peer up into his face. His eyes were warm, gentle, and surely that was love that she could see shining there.
At that moment, the confession that she'd carefully rehearsed in Minako's car disappeared like a tiny wisp of smoke in her mind. She was overwhelmed by all the warring emotions that were straining inside of her chest, and it reflected in the jumbled words that spilled haphazardly from her trembling lips.
The tears in her eyes were tears of frustration now as she tilted her face upwards to glare at him. "You stupid baka!" she spat angrily. "Do you know that only 2% of long-distance relationships actually work?" she questioned furiously, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I mean, of course, we're going to be a part of the 2%. It's just so annoying, you know?" She said and furiously shook her head. This wasn't what she'd meant to say, but it was the first thing that popped into her mind.
Mamoru sighed, an indulgent smile on his lips as he stared down at her. "Usako," he murmured. "I already told you that we will always be friends-"
She groaned loudly and stomped her foot in frustration, effectively interrupting him. "No, baka," she practically growled. "I mean romantic relationship, you idiot. Because I'm in love with you," she confessed vehemently.
He inhaled sharply, his body tensed, and his arms tightening around her. "What?" he croaked, his expression stunned, and his mouth parted slightly in shock.
Usagi swallowed, her heart thumping loudly in her chest because she wasn't sure now if he felt the same way. She strengthened her resolve. It didn't matter either way. She could handle the rejection, but he had to know.
She took a deep breath and bravely met his shocked gaze. "Look, I should have told you months ago, the minute I knew, but I was afraid. I mean, you are my best friend Mamo-chan, but I can't pretend like I don't want you to be more than that anymore," she blurted, the words spilling from her lips without restraint.
"Wait, months?" Mamoru hissed, his brow furrowing into a scowl.
She grimaced, her heart sinking with disappointment as she blinked back her tears and began to pull away. "If you don't feel the same way, that's okay, M-"
He growled, the sound guttural and filled with frustration, as he pressed one palm onto the small of her back, and urged forward, while the other hand interlaced into the hair at the back of her head. She gasped, her lips parted in shock as his head swept down and he pressed his lips against hers.
It was her first kiss, and at first, she wasn't sure what to do. But as his lips molded against hers and began to move with passionate ferocity, she lost herself in a daze of bliss as she let her instincts take over. She melted against him, propelled herself to the tips of her toes, and matched his movements as her fingers raked at the hair at the nape of his neck.
It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was blissful perfection, it was a desire that curled warmly in the pit of her stomach, it was everything she wanted. And it was with Mamo-chan. The most important person in her life. The little boy that had become her protector, her best friend and now the man that she loved with a blinding ferocity that made her heart swell painfully in her chest.
When they finally pulled apart, they were breathless, flushed, and trembling with something so powerful it made her skin tingle.
He clenched his eyes shut, and pressed his forehead against hers, their labored breathing intermingling between them. "God, Usako," he whispered. "I love you, too," he confessed, and his voice broke with emotion.
She exhaled sadly, as the daze dissipated and the very real reality of their situation sank in. "How long, Mamo-chan?" She demanded softly, and he lifted his head and his hands that tenderly cupped her face. The tips of his fingers interwoven into the wispy tendrils of hair curled at her temples.
The look in his eyes took her breath away. "It's always been you, Usako. Always."
The words evoked a new set of tears that were equal parts happiness and devastation. "Mamo-chan," she choked. "You're leaving now," she whispered miserably and tried to avert her gaze, but he held her face in place.
She could see the array of emotion cross his face and the way his brow furrowed in quiet contemplation. "I'll stay, Usako," he admitted. "I would stay for you."
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she bit her lower lip as her eyes studied his expression. He was serious. He would give up Harvard for her, and it was tempting, so tempting, to beg him to stay.
The thought was fleeting though, and she exhaled a strangled breath of sadness. "No, Mamo-chan," she whispered. "You need to go. You know you do," she said with a resigned smile.
His face fell, and he shook his head in protest, "Usako, I don't want to leave you," he whispered hoarsely as his hands tenderly trailed the curve of her neck, then her shoulders before resting on her hips.
She nodded with silent understanding, leaned forward and softly pressed her lips onto his again.
She pulled away before he had time to reciprocate. "I know, but, if you can wait this long for me. Well, I can wait a measly four years for you, right?" She said brightly, with an attempt at lightheartedness.
"Usako-"
She interrupted him with another chaste kiss on the lips. "We can do this, Mamo-chan. Just like you said," she stated with conviction. "Besides, it's not the 90's or something," she said in a matter of fact manner. "We have cell phones, and emails, and-"
He interrupted her list of ways to communicate with another breathtaking kiss that effectively felt like it had melted her bones.
When he pulled away this time, she could see the acceptance shining sadly from his eyes. "Okay, Usa. Damn," he sighed. "Was it really months?" he demanded in disbelief.
She nodded, sadly and he groaned with despair, though, she felt the tension visibly dissipate from between them. She felt lighter, somehow, and she knew that what they had was epic. They could handle this.
There was a call that echoed on the intercom around them. A last-minute warning to board his flight, and it was like their bubble popped, and she realized that they were standing, intimately interlocked, in the middle of a busy airport.
Her cheeks reddened, and he chuckled as he leaned down to give her one final, heart-stopping kiss before he forcibly pulled away.
He was as reluctant to leave her as she was to let him go, but still, he leaned forward, clasped his bag and forcibly tore away from her.
She forced a smile onto her face, though it was no longer hiding anguish, and waved at him as he handed his ticket to the attendant and stiffly made his way through the gate that would bring him to the plane that would take him to America.
He didn't look back as he walked, and she knew it was because, if he did, he might never leave.
She pressed her fingers onto her lips as she slowly made her way back through the crowd.
She stopped and stood by the double-glass paned windows to watch the plane that he was on pull out onto the tarmac.
She was surprised that she could feel her heart pounding in her chest because surely it wasn't there. It was with him on that plane. Her eyes welled with tears, and she stopped breathing because she missed him so much already.
Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and, with a frown on her face, she pulled it out into her palm. The name Mamo-chan flashed up at her in big, white letters, and she trembled as she swiped across the glass screen to read the text message. "Breathe, Usako. Miss you already. Love you. Call you when I land," and she did breathe then.
She exhaled deeply with relief. Feeling giddy and elated and so in love. She knew then, at that moment, that she was irrevocably, and one hundred percent head over heels in love with her best friend, and, despite the overwhelming challenges that faced them, it was the happiest moment of her life.
The end...
JUST KIDDING!
You guys. I can't leave it here! There NEEDS to be an epilogue, right?
EPILOGUE coming soon!
