Oh my god, guys. Your response to last chapter! I am so happy and so blown away! Thank you so much! So, this chapter is coming to you a little quicker again – and be warned, it's penultimate chapter! There will be one more, and then an epilogue, so, expect this to wrap up, soon!

Thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta Uglygreenjacket. Thank you so much for your support, love!

One last note: A few people were unhappy with the kiss last chapter – or much rather, the circumstances under which it happened. I hear you, guys. Absolutely! And I get it. (And I even agree!) It was far from ideal. But I wanted to build a story where every character had their heart at the right place, and yet the situation was still as messy and complicated as can be, and untangle it bit by bit. One of the underlying questions of this fic for me always was: What is cheating? WHEN is cheating? And so, scenes that walk the line, and hop on it, and cross it (depending on what your answer to this question is, or not) were in my plan from the start. You can be a wonderful person with all the right intentions and still make very dumb decisions. (Also, a little fair warning: if you weren't happy with that scene last chapter, you might hate this one, lol?)

Anyway, please let me know what you think! :D

Usagi woke up with a start, heart pounding. It took her a second to orientate herself, to place the distinct, hollow rattle that had woken her up.

The bells of Hikawa shrine. Someone had rattled them, clapped two times, all of it rather loudly.

She groaned into Rei's pillow. The sleek, grey alarm next her read 6:53 am, and yet the other side of the large bed Usagi had shared was empty.

Another rattle. More clapping.

A shrine was not as quiet to sleep at as one thought, especially when the doors were literally made from paper.

Usagi groaned once more, and then decided to get up. She could soak up in the shrine's rather luxurious bath area, get her ass to her voluntary job, eat a few onigiri from the conbini by the station on the go, maybe get a vlog in afterwards. Today was Mamoru's night shift – it was safe to go home, later. She could sleep a little more, then.

Her shoulders slumped as she padded her way into the little wooden bathroom and fired up the rather ancient boiler.

She undressed, washed her hair perched on the little plastic stool next to the tub, piled her hair up into one of Rei's red shower caps, and slid into the hot water, finally.

She sighed, deep and long, crossed her arms on the rim of the tub just by the little window, and rested her cheek on her hands as she looked out towards the trees outside. Sunlight filtered through the leaves. It looked peaceful and calm and didn't match her mood at all.

It had been a week now, of avoiding Mamoru and that kiss. But what else could she do?

She hadn't found an apartment she could afford. Makoto's couch was currently in the midst of a blossoming love, and so Usagi did not want to take her up on the offer. Rei was accommodating her as best she could – and Usagi had had to physically restrain her from kicking down Mamoru's door and giving him hell (and she suspected some of those plentiful ema that Rei had been scribbling wishes on for the gods this past week involved some very angry threats to Mamoru's private parts, anyway) – but it was definitely not a long-term solution.

Grandpa Hino's old room was Rei's room now, Rei's old room, and the guest room that used to be Yuichiro's back in the day when he still lived here, housed the two Mikos Rei had taken in years ago. There was no place for her here, not really.

She had nowhere to go, and yet today she would pack up her things.

He placed the glass mug on the wooden countertop with a thud, the clear, yellow liquid sloshing as he did.

Mamoru wasn't a beer person. Not usually. But…

He sighed. A second, much emptier glass was noisily placed at the seat beside him.

"Soo..." his newly anointed drinking companion said with a slight, annoyed edge to his voice. "You threw it all away, for a girl that doesn't even want you?"

Mamoru shrugged.

The izakaya was noisy this time of day. Groups of people were laughing and shouting at individual tables, the counter was packed with loudly chatting and toasting people, chefs reached across the counter to hand out ceramic dishes filled with fried meat and vegetables, waiters filled over the small wooden jugs of sake and carried beers and highballs. It was a lively atmosphere. A happy atmosphere. The absolute contrast program to what was going on inside of him.

It was the kind of time he would usually not be found dead in a place like this, but… going home meant going home to an empty apartment, most likely, and he couldn't face that right now.

"Do you regret it..." came the voice beside him.

Mamoru frowned into his glass. "... no," he mumbled after a while.

He was awarded with a rather shocked frown.

Mamoru wet his lips, took a sip of his drink. The almost citrusy, light but bitter taste of the beer irritated his tongue, but he took another right away.

He placed the glass back on the counter noisily and sighed. "Not breaking up, at least," he said after a while, staring into the content of his glass thoughtfully. "It's one thing about this all that I don't regret, perhaps…"

The shock shifted to bewilderment. Like someone would look at you if you told them you just turned down a lottery win.

Mamoru huffed into his beer, gave another shrug. "Usagi opened my eyes. I... I fell in love for the first time in my life. It's only right I broke things off with the woman I promised to marry after I realized that, don't you think?" he mumbled, threw him a look. "…no matter if I got the girl or not."

He huffed into his yakitori. "Hm. If you view it like that…"

Mamoru leaned back, exhaled long and audibly, and looked briefly at the ceiling, rather helplessly. "... I just…"

"Hm?" he made.

Mamoru threw him a look. "I really would have loved to get the girl, you know?" he said in a tired voice. His seat neighbor responded with a sympathetic huff, and clinked his glass against Mamoru's on the counter, raising it as a toast.

A beat of silence passed that wasn't silent at all, because the noisy establishment wouldn't allow for such things.

Mamoru's shoulder slumped and he put his elbows on the bar, head ducking. "Will you take care of her?" he asked. "She'll need a friend now..."

Kobayashi nodded, swallowed.

Usagi folded her moon and bunnies comforter haphazardly, and threw it into the blue IKEA bag next to the opened up cardboard box, phone lodged between her chin and shoulder.

The bed looked naked like that, just with the white sheets. It made her sad.

"Where will you go?" Ami's voice asked in that gentle, gentle Ami tone.

Usagi sighed, shrugged her shoulder even when Ami couldn't see, and rolled her fragile reflector into her favorite dress, before putting it into the box by her feet.

She wasn't going at this very strategically. Her packing was mostly priority by now and had no system to it. Her laptop, camera bag, reflectors, her Totoro lunch box, her old plushed rabbit and cookie stash all thrown into this box, her comforter and most of her top favorite clothes in another. She guessed she knew what she'd take to a lonely island. And just like her packing, her plans had no system either. She really didn't know where to go, only where she could go and didn't want to go.

She pouted into her phone. "…I guess I'll need to own up to being a total failure and go back to my parents…" she said.

The line was silent for a while.

"You can come stay with me for a little while, you know?" Ami said.

Usagi swallowed. It was so tempting to say yes…

"Your state exam is coming up, Ami-chan," Usagi reminded.

Usagi would never forgive herself, if she jeopardized this for Ami…

"Well, yes, it is, but…" Ami said.

Usagi swallowed, shook her head again, unseen.

"I'll figure something out," Usagi said, with conviction this time.

Ami took a second to reply, and Usagi placed her power bank and phone charger amongst a stack of her underwear.

"I want you to know that you're welcome here," Ami said.

Usagi nodded again. "I know," she said, but it was dismissive.

The line went silence for a second, before Ami spoke again. "Usagi-chan? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she said.

Ami's voice was small, when she spoke. Almost tentative. Trying to spare her feelings, Usagi was sure.

"Why did you not tell him how you felt?" she asked finally.

The question vibrated through Usagi, and it scared her a little. "How would you feel, if you had a fiancé and the woman he lives with confessed to him?" Usagi whispered. "And besides…"

Usagi sighed, bit her lip. And really, what did she have to gain by doing that? Her best case scenario was also the worst case scenario. She sighed again, before she spoke. "If he has any feelings towards me, I ruined a relationship. I don't value my own feelings over someone else's relationship…"

"Oh, Usagi…"

Usagi shrugged, lips locked in a pout, and she tucked on one of her dresses in her wardrobe, slipping it from the hanger without removing the hanger.

"And even despite all that, if I didn't care about all that, which I do, I… it would just have made things awkward," she almost whispered, stuffing the dress into her IKEA bag. "I know he doesn't have these feelings for me. I know he was drunk, didn't think. Why… torture myself even more?"

Usagi couldn't help the small sniff at the end, and the line went, once again, silent for a second or two.

"Would it…" Ami started, halted. The way she did when she was searching for the right words, for the kind kind of words. "Would it… have made a difference for you if you'd … had reason to think he liked you back?"

There was another emotion laced through Ami's voice. Usagi frowned, but she couldn't pinpoint it. Instead, she focused on the painful question.

Would it have?

She shook her head dismissively. "Ami-chan, this man told me he did not believe in love, remember? I'd be very stupid to… expect…"

"Let's say he did," Ami interrupted her. "Would it have made a difference?"

Usagi exhaled, halted in the throwing of her bunched up bunny socks into the cardboard box.

Would it have…?

She exhaled heavily. "No. I'd have still ruined a relationship."

"What do you regret?" Kobayashi said after a while.

Mamoru's brow wrinkled. He didn't answer for a while. What about the jumbled mess he'd caused didn't he regret? But…

He did regret not insisting to go with Saori that night. Explain right away. Break it off right then. He did regret not leaving when he had the chance. He did regret drinking that much that night. He regretted a damn load of things from way before that… Way, way before that…

"What should I have done?" Mamoru asked the beer glass, then sighed. "I could have... should have broken things off with Saori sooner. But... do I turn and break off a decade long relationship because I have a crush?"

Because I got a boner for my roommate a couple times? Because I had eyes? Because I told myself that's what it was?

Kobayashi's eyes were slightly accusing, and Mamoru really couldn't blame him. "You should have turned away from that crush. Not let her move in. Fidelity is a decision in parts. You decide to not look, to turn away if you crush."

Mamoru's eyebrows lowered, letting a beat pass. "Yeah... I agree," he said after a second.

Kobayashi deflated a little, threw him a look that turned at least a little milder.

"I would have, too," Mamoru said, still frowning at he met Kobayashi's eyes. "Turned away? I was going to…" He lifted his glass for another sip.

He swallowed, the bitter but cold liquid burning along his throat.

"I think, in some way… had it been any different kind of situation, I would have taken one look at Usagi and I would have run. I'd have never seen her again. Ignored it completely. And I did, in a way. Not the seeing, obviously. But the ignoring?" He threw Kobayashi a look, who flicked his wrist at him to continue.

Mamoru wet his lips. "Deep down, from the beginning, I knew the risk. And I would not have taken it. I was so adamant to stick with Saori. To not even look. But…"

"But?"

"She was there. She lives with me. I couldn't run. She was literally IN MY HOME." Mamoru's shoulders had raised, and so had his voice a little, and he took another sip from his jug.

"Because you allowed her to be," Kobayashi threw in.

"Yes," Mamoru said, deflating. "Yes… And I… I want to regret that. And I do for Saori… but… not for me, I don't. It's so fucking shitty, but I don't."

Kobayashi pursed his lips with a frown but kept silent.

Mamore averted his eyes. Back into the safe, now emptier glass. "…I didn't even think of Saori when I kissed Usagi. Not a single thought…" he admitted, voice low and quiet.

Kobayashi flinched.

"I just… I forgot her. I forgot everything. It was just Usagi and me and the alcohol and…"

"I hope you didn't tell Saori that particular piece of information…" Kobayashi remarked.

Mamoru's eyes widened as they turned back to his drinking companion. "Of course not! I broke her heart, I didn't have to put it through a blender, too."

Kobayashi nodded.

Mamoru's elbows turned back onto the bar, while Kobayashi raised his empty glass towards the nearest waiter. "So... I should have broken up way before? But I didn't understand..." he broke off, sighing deeply with his brow creased into furrows, before he started again, jumbled thoughts a split fraction more collected. "I … do love Saori. I thought I did. I think I do. But… She is my best friend. She was my only friend for so long. And… our relationship wasn't bad. At all. It was comfortable and warm and orderly and so perfect on paper and…"

He leaned back in his stool with a huff, the wood wriggled underneath him a little, and he swallowed. "…and it was all I could imagine I needed. ... I just…"

He rolled frustrated eyes to the ceiling. Kobayashi sat turned to him, waiting the short silence out.

"I just... I didn't even know that this feeling could be so ..." His frown turned deeper, more frustrated. Why was it so hard to even put into words? He was a man of words, words had never alluded him in his life before, and now… He groaned, pushed his hands over his face briefly. "I love Usagi more. I can't describe it, but it's so different. New. Harder. Faster. I can't sleep. I can't think. I've never felt this before, I…"

Kobayashi nodded with a sigh, not lifting his head from his own beer jug, but he'd stopped eating.

"I should have been honest with her, though. With Saori. About my confused panic. No matter if I understood it or not," Mamoru said, and Kobayashi nodded with a frown. "I realize that now. I tried to spare her feelings, because I didn't want to hurt her for something I was adamant to never let happen... and I was a coward. I should have told her what was going on inside of me."

"... I don't know man…" Kobayashi said in a pressed voice, leaning back.

Mamoru threw him a look.

Kobayashi shrugged at him rather helplessly. "I mean… you could have talked with Saori about what would happen, if this sort of situation ever arose. You know, prepare for this sort of situation beforehand, just in case? Because personally… I would not just assume to know if my partner wanted to know or not in a situation like this, especially if you're decided to not let it… complicate things? If you know what I mean? 'Oh honey, yesterday I had this boner for Yuki in Accounting again, but don't worry, I'm sticking with you, because it's nothing'?"

Mamoru flinched at the imagery.

"I really think it's better to prepare for stuff like that in advance. Talk about your standpoints with your partner, ask them what they would want you to do if you find yourself with a crush however minor, when it's still all hypothetical and you can go all, 'I know it won't happen, but let's just talk about 'what if'?" Kobayashi said, and leaned back over his plate of Yakitori. "Besides, you had ten years to talk about this. And she's a cop, a damn good cop, she knows all about unplanned crimes of passion."

One of the izakaya staff leaned across the bar, exchanged Kobayashi's empty glass with a new one, who nodded in thanks.

Mamoru frowned. He hadn't ever thought he would find himself in an argument about romantic feelings where he wasn't the more practical, cynical part in it… But… Was a relationship something he would want to vaccine against all possible hazards like this? Assume from the start that his emotions might stray and prepare for the situation in advance? Didn't that… And yet, he knew Kobayashi was right, that this would have been the most rational thing to have done. But… "But…I didn't BELIEVE in this situation before it happened to me. How could I have…" Mamoru pressed out.

Kobayashi blinked at him in confusion, lost to his train of thought.

"Usagi literally said she broke up with her ex because she knew this kind of love exists, and she didn't want to be waiting around for that while still with someone else… and I…" Mamoru swallowed. "Saori was my first relationship. Before I met Usagi I've never looked at anyone else like that. I didn't have eyes, there never was a Yuki in Accounting for me, even for a second. Ever."

Kobayashi's confused blinking turned into even more confused surprise.

"I really didn't believe in it. In passionate love that could overpower your brain like that, I thought it was fairy tale, a myth. I judged everyone harshly who excused their – for me so obviously controllable – misgivings with terms like this. How could I have prepared for something I didn't believe in, that I didn't even get when it was right in front of my eyes?" Mamoru said, and looked to the ceiling again with a deep, heavy sigh.

"I didn't see it, he continued. "I mistook it. I always believed… you know, that passionate love wasn't needed for a marriage. That passion was silly and dangerous and maybe even a lie people told themselves to excuse their indecisiveness in a partner, romanticizing it. People didn't marry for passion or love up until the frigging 19th century, and even now it's making most people miserable instead of happy and yet… I can't…" he broke off, ran a hand through his hair that was an absolute mess, and exhaled heavily.

"Even if I'm miserable now for the rest of my life, I can't not want to feel this," Mamoru almost whispered, almost pitifully. "And it hit me like a fucking freight car, no warning signs at all... how could I have prepared for that?"

Kobayashi only sighed.

Mamoru pressed his lips together, staring into his now empty glass. "I've had these feelings for three months. I didn't understand them, but I had them. Right away, I had them. And the moment I finally did understand them, it took me exactly 10 hours and 43 minutes to break up with Saori, throw it all away. I didn't hesitate. But say, if I had understood sooner? Should I have done what I did now, when I did? Should I have ran to Saori, 10 hours and 43 minutes after I realized that I had fallen in love, and drop a relationship I've been in for ten years, like the figurative hot potato, break every promise I've ever made, because Usagi brought me a bottle of wine to an apartment viewing with a dimpled smile? Or because she giggled at me in a pillow fort? I… is that… what was expected of me? Is that what people do?"

Kobayashi shook his head slowly, lifted his hands, shrugging, at a loss, too.

Then Kobayashi lifted his newly refilled beer, clinked his glass against Mamoru's empty one, and only spoke before he'd taken a large sip.

"I really don't think there is a single way you could have behaved completely right in this situation, given the fact you're a dumb idiot," Kobayashi said, and Mamoru snorted in agreement.

"It's a rotten, complicated situation. Someone would have always gotten hurt," Kobayashi continued. "I'm gonna be shitty and say I'm glad you got hurt too, not just Saori," he said.

Mamoru nodded, all the 'that's fair' written in his pursed lips that he could manage.

He hrmphed, dropped his elbows, once again, on the bar. "... there's also that layer where I think I actively denied figuring it out sooner. Just so that I wouldn't lose Usagi," Mamoru murmured.

Kobayashi rubbed his eyes, threw him a look. There was both pity and judgement in his eyes.

And of course, Mamoru knew where at least some little part of the pity came from.

He lost Usagi anyway.

When Mamoru came home, he slipped off his shoes and socks and stayed sitting on the steps of the genkan for a moment, not even attempting to reach for his slippers.

Instead, he listened into the silence that hurt him so much.

His heart started hammering hard when he realized that for the second time this day, the silence wasn't silent.

There were sounds coming from her room.

He stumbled over the step of the genkan, his knee hitting the hardwood floor and his palm catching on the floor, but he got back up in the same, single motion as he'd fallen.

His throat was dry, his heart deafening, and there she was.

She looked so small, standing there in this big, thick woolen cardigan and tight jeans, and her eyes were wide, and she froze, as her gaze landed on him over, over…

Cardboard boxes. Moving boxes. Open. Being filled.

His throat constricted, he had no control over his face.

No.

"Please…" he whispered.

"Why is your night shift never your night shift anymore?" she whispered back.

He swallowed. His hands started trembling. Had she… Had she wanted to just move out in the middle of the night? Had she wanted to just move this all out while he was gone, disappear on him all together? Just like that and… he would never see her again?

He knew it was her choice. He knew there was nothing he could or even ever should do if she wanted to move out, but…

His hands still trembled, the hurt, the loss, the irritation all bubbling out to the surface, but staying in.

"Can we talk about this?" he whispered. It broke in the middle.

She had turned away from him, moved back to her wardrobe. Her hands were trembling too, he saw, as she transferred a bunch of clothes with their hangers into an empty box.

"I don't think that's the best idea," Usagi said, turned away.

The next item she extracted from her wardrobe was her Haori jacket – the one she's worn to the festival with him. It disappeared into a different box.

He trembled harder, shaking now, rubbed his hands over his eyes and took the step into the room.

"Usagi…"

She took a hard breath. Turned back to him, but looked at the floor studiously. "I can't do this, Mamo-chan," she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat. Nickname. She still used the nickname. He hadn't fucked it all up.

"What can't you do?" he whispered back, too urgent.

Her eyes flared up. Met him for just a second, flashing. Angry, before she averted her eyes to his lips, his chest, and her hands were in the air.

"THIS. PRETENDING. IGNORING THE FACT I made you CHEAT on your fiancé. I can't be that woman and I don't—"

"Usagi—"

"—know what the hell you think we should talk about, but it sure as hell won't—"

"Ugh, why won't you listen to me?!" he yelled out, frustrated, too loud.

Her tone was louder, and she whirled around. "WHAT'S THERE TO LISTEN TO, YOU'RE BASICALLY A MARRIED MAN!" she shouted. It was the first time she met his eyes, and she came close, so close, and it paralyzed him and caused his blood to roar at the same time.

"I'm NOT a married man and neither will I—"

"WELL, ALMOST, THEN, SAME THING—"

"I'M NOT—"

"I'M NOT GOING TO RUIN THIS FOR YOU—"

Everything in him flushed, bubbled, angry, frustrated, roaring. "YOU'RE THE MOST INFURIATING WOMAN ON THE FUCKING PLANET," he shouted back, as loud as her, at the same time, holding her gaze.

"I'M INFURIATING?!" she yelped, and now she was right in his face, eyes wide and so close, so close.

"Yes. Yes, you are!" he exclaimed, still too emotional. Too worked up. His hands flew into his hair, trying to calm down, trying not to freak out. This was wrong, this was entirely wrong. How—

She whirled around. Her oversized cardigan and some of her hair slapped against his arm and he reached out to stop her, faltered.

"I don't want to scream these things at you, Usagi! Please, can't we just—" Mamoru said, nerves fluttering.

She put her hands over her face, groaned into her too long sleeves loudly, spoke into them, muffling the sound. "UGH, why can't you just step back and let me do this, let me get out of here and not make a mess for you when I—"

"Usagi—"

He came closer, hovered his hands above her arms, not daring to touch. His ears rang in panic.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, OK?!" she yelped out, hands flying off her eyes, and to her mouth, and he froze.

She deflated, averted her eyes.

His heart hammered against his ribcage, hands trembling but not from the frustration anymore.

"So, you see, I need to go. For you and Saori's sake."

He swallowed, eyes wide. Now is your cue, Chiba. Now. Now.

They both stood there, wide-eyed, chests moving up and down with harsh, heavy breathing that puffed out of open mouths.

"I'm so sorry I kissed you, and I'm so sorry I made you drink in the first place, and cause this giant mess for you, and that's why I need to go," she whispered.

They were silent for a moment, tense and rigid and that harsh breathing, only inches apart and he had no idea when he'd moved closer only that he did, and he could smell her shampoo like this and—

Talk. Why aren't you talking, Chiba.

His heart felt like it stopped with what she said to break the silence, eyes brimming with frustrated tears.

"You think you kissed me?" he whispered. Wanted to slap himself. Of all the things—

She reached up, finger out, intended to poke him with it no doubt, but when they landed, they curled into his shirt instead.

"I'm in fucking love with you, and you're forbidden, and you don't even fucking BELIEVE in love, and this fucking torture here? I can't DO this anymore. Why are you DOING this to me when you have—"

Something snapped in him, right through his brain. This was not how you do this, this was not how you should… you should talk, dimwit, tell her you're not forbidden, tell her she's wrong, tell her you love her too, tell her you were wrong, you should—

And yet, like magnetism, he pressed his lips to hers, at the same time that she yanked him to her by the shirt, and when she opened her mouth and touched his lips with her tongue, he opened his mouth for her with a gutteral, muffled sound – and it felt like coming home and like drowning all at once, and she whimpered, but then clawed her fingers into his shoulders and then his hands were in her hair, on her back, her butt, lifting—

He shuddered, trembling, at the way her teeth bit into his lip, her hand pulled at his hair, the gasps into his mouth, the way his vision swam and he could only ever drown in her lips and her scent and the feel of her skin beneath the pads of his fingers, as he brushed one hand into her cardigan and against the warm, naked skin at the small of her back where her T Shirt met her jeans, the other hand digging into her thigh, catching it in a strong grip, as she curled one leg around him. He cried out, deep and tortured and muffled by her mouth when she reached down and between them and ripped at the top button of his pants.

He didn't even notice he'd pressed her against the wall, not until his elbow hit her shelf, and she pressed her shoulders against it and her pelvis against him, and he cried out again into her mouth but didn't detach himself from it, and he bent his body forward, towards her mouth, towards…

She pushed at his shoulders, and he let her go with a pop of his lips, immediately, and she slid onto her feet and he stood with his shoulders shaking, trembling, he was wound so tight and almost blind from the rush he felt, a rush he'd never felt like this before…

And then her mouth was back, pressing, urgent against his, and he groaned into it, and her hands pushed at him and he backed up, slowly, until the back of his knees hit her bed, and he fell onto the white, bare sheets, and she on top of him, and this was heaven, heaven in her mouth, and his hand slid back under her shirt and her skin felt like silk and he needed to taste it so bad, he needed—

And then he tasted the salt on her lips and realized that her cheeks were wet, and he froze and let go of her immediately.

She launched herself off of him before he realized what had happened. Heard her cries of "We can't," and "Saori," before they could register in his brain and no, not again, he needed to explain, he needed to—

"Usako—" he cried.

She'd grabbed one of the boxes she'd been packing, threw her jacket and purse into the large IKEA bag next to it, and he propelled himself off her bed.

No. No, he took it back, this can't…

"Please," he begged, following her out of the room. "Usako—"

"We can't," she whimpered. It sounded wet, trembling. It broke his heart.

She placed the box and bag outside, threw her shoes into it instead of putting them on.

His heart beat in his throat when she was out the door, whirled back with eyes that swam in tears.

"Don't you see how wrong this is?" she whispered, almost broken.

His eyes were wide, his throat closed up. What had he done?

She slammed the door shut in his face, and he heard her shuffle away behind it.

He stood there, wide-eyed, frozen, for a few moments longer.

Then the tears started falling.

"It's not…" he whispered.

His forehead hit the closed door, and a second time with more conviction, tears dropping onto his bare feet.

So, there's been some debate beforehand about this last scene of very questionable communication. But, then UGJ pointed out that this is still Mamoru Chiba. And she's totally right, this is the guy who is very shitty at communicating important things even AFTER he's been with Usagi for a while. Ya know, like having prophetic dreams about Usagi's death, or DYING FROM A SHADOW ON HIS LUNG. So, I stand behind this, lol, Chiba Mamoru (and especially THIS still emotionally inexperienced Chiba Mamoru here) would mess it up getting these words out, and impulsive Usagi is impulsive Usagi.

Anyway, lol. So next chapter is the last chapter. You don't have to suffer all too long in your frustration about these too idiots, then xD PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I'm especially curious about what you have to say about the Kobayashi scene, for one! (And overall, and everything else too, of course, lol)