Sailor Moon waited in silence for a long moment, but Tuxedo Kamen looked like he was frozen, a statue locked in his own thoughts. She realized he wasn't going to respond to her confession, perhaps couldn't. Her heart broke a little and her adrenaline-fueled bravado crumbled in the long, oppressive silence. He didn't need the burden of her affections, she realized. She'd grown too close to him, too accustomed to relying on him for affirmation, but this depth wasn't something he was prepared for. She'd known he'd be shocked by her feelings, but she hadn't expected their revelation to break him. Belatedly remembered she had his car keys, she to a tentative step forward, holding them out to him, whispering, "I'll . . . see you tomorrow?"
He shook his head sharply, immediately moving backwards, maintaining the distance between them. She relented, the aversion he exhibited like a lance to her heart. Cautiously, she lowered the keys to the ground, then backed away. "You need some time away from me, don't you?" she whispered into the night, her voice nearly failing her.
Tuxedo Kamen scooped up the keys, eyes locked on the ground. When he spoke, his words were clipped, "You should resume studying with the girls." His body language was stiff as he rose and turned towards the edge of the roof. Before she could reply, he vanished into the darkness. Though she ran to the low wall of the roof, he was gone and she was alone with her crushing embarrassment and tears.
She didn't realize he was actually just a few floors below her, perched on the ledge of a recessed window, waiting for her to give up. He had no idea how to respond to her without scaring her. She was too young for the relationship she tempted him with. If he let his answering emotions free, what damage would he suffer when her youthful adoration faded in the ensuing years, as his flawed and misanthropist nature became clear and new, better men entered her social circle. What damage would he do to her optimistic, bubbly nature?
He slipped silently down the streets towards his car, focused on his internal debate. He slashed cruelly at the specter of love that she'd raised, dismissing her feelings as a passing crush that felt like a permanent bond. He even resorted to accusing her of having tendency to fall for every male that crossed her path. Granted, his only real proof of that was Motoki, but he clung to that obvious school girl crush as proof. The idea that she'd simply transferred her need to be "in love" to him because of their intense association stung, but the sudden change from enemy to love was too much to accept as real.
By the time he was crawling into bed, he was struggling to keep up his protective wall. Deep down, he didn't want to push her way. If not for the age difference, despite his fears of their obvious mis-match, he would have taken the chance.
It would be a lot easier once she removed the rose-colored glasses she was currently wearing, he concluded. She would go back to her friends and he would go back to his books and his coffee. It would be awkward and he would have to be careful, especially at battles. He would stoically endure this course correction, hopeful that when she emerged on the other side of this infatuation and disappointment, a bedrock of friendship still remained.
His last thought before sleep claimed him was that the next few weeks were going to be very painful.
Usagi woke early Saturday morning. She couldn't sleep, despite the late and extremely emotional night before. Muffled sobbing into her pillow had finally exhausted her, but she hadn't found sleep as restorative as she'd prayed for.
She turned to chores to silence her churning thoughts. Sorting through all of her clothes in preparation for the slowly arriving warmer weather and packing away her heavy winter clothes distracted her a bit. Organizing her knick-knacks, makeup, hair supplies, and jewelry was more entertaining, and she even tamed the chaos of her desk. But it was still quite early when she decided to abandon her non-sanctuary of a room and see if her mom was up and about.
Naturally, Ikuko was wide-awake and engaged in several domestic activities at once: cooking breakfast, putting away dishes that had been left in the drying rack overnight, and making a shopping list as she assessed the contents of the fridge, freezer, and cupboards.
"Oh, Usagi!" she gasped, startled, when she turned around and found her daughter lurking in the doorway. "Are you alright?"
Usagi shrugged, not trusting her voice, and started washing dishes that she assumed her mom was finished with.
Ikuko immediately suspected boy trouble. "Honey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
Usagi side-eyed her mom, doubtful. "You'll talk about whatever I tell you with Dad," she muttered.
"Well, maybe," Ikuko agreed. "It would really depend on the situation. Some things might be important enough to share with him. Other things might just be mom and daughter stuff." She tried to keep her tone light, as if her daughter wasn't clearly struggling with something.
She took the measuring cups out of Usagi's hands and dried them, before putting them back alongside the stove, so she could continue using them. Usagi sighed, realizing she wasn't really helping at the moment, and grabbed an apple. Perching herself on the edge of chair, she studied her mom's back as she crunched apathetically away on her chosen breakfast.
Ikuko could play the waiting game quite well. Sliding bowls of steaming rice and miso shiru across the table, she re-focused her attention on the salmon she was grilling.
Usagi toyed with her soup for bit, submerging the small pieces of tofu and watching them bob right back up. "I want to talk to you about the project I've been so busy with lately. It's why I'm always so late getting home." She left the kitchen for a moment, returning with her school bag. After a brief hunt, she she placed the the assignment sheet next to her mom's cup of green tea.
Ikuko traded a small portion of salmon for the paper, which she skimmed quickly. Usagi took a bite of salmon, then started talking again. "I know you probably know this, but I've had a really lousy year. But, if I finish this by Friday, I can be promoted instead of held back. So I've been working really hard with the help of my friends."
Ikuko looked confused. "Usagi, honey, who is threatening to hold you back? Japanese schools don't hold middle school students back a year, no matter how bad their grades are!"
Usagi frowned. "Well, maybe Fujita-sensei just said that to motivate me?" She waved her hands dismissively, "It's not important. The important thing is that I can salvage my grades if I do this project."
"And Ami and Rei have been helping you," Ikuko supplied.
"Well, they have helped me a lot, but lately they've been really busy. Lots of people at the shrine praying for upcoming exams and Ami has her Germany scholarship exam this weekend, which I know she will ace, but she's been really focused on that."
Ikuko made sympathetic noises, assuming she had sussed out the source of Usagi's woes. "You know Ami won't be gone long. You should be excited for her! It's not like it's forever."
Usagi made another dismissive gesture, "Oh, I'm very excited for her. She's sure to win and she'll have a wonderful adventure. I'll miss her lots, but the time will fly by. I'm not sad about her trip."
"I see."
"Would you read my story, Mom?"
"I'd love to. Is the story the problem, though?"
"Can you read it first? Then we can talk later?" Usagi pleaded. She held out the latest typewritten copy. It was at that moment that she realized last night's bit was missing. She must have forgotten it in Mamoru's car. That explained the pencil, anyway.
The thought of the pencil threatened to bring about a renewed obsession with the previous night. She excused herself, mumbling something about doing a load of laundry. As she wandered miserably into the long hallway, a wild thought crossed her mind, a blessed distraction. It was possible Mamoru had dropped off the packet, leaving it on her step. Perhaps he only thought of it this morning and he was out there now! Her heart leapt a little at the wildly unlikely prospect of catching him kneeling in front of her door, hiding her story under the doormat. She ruthlessly stomped on that hope, even as she flung open the front door to find . . . nothing.
It was a chilly March morning, but she welcomed the biting breeze as she wandered into the front garden and embarked on a slow loop around her house, unwilling to let go of the ridiculously small possibility that he had dropped it off and it had been blown off the stoop or the even more wild chance that he had tucked it up on her window ledge for secrecy.
He hadn't, of course.
Once back inside her warm kitchen, she told her mom she was going to run out for a while, as she needed to return something she had borrowed from Rei. Her mom distractedly granted her permission, and Usagi soon found herself walking towards the park, her writing supplies in her pale pink backpack.
Hanako slowly thawed out in front of the fire, while Gaelph paced around his small house, checking out the windows repeatedly. She had noticed that he had a bunch of supplies piled up by the front door.
"Where is your companion?" Gaelph finally asked, his agitation escalating.
"My companion?" she asked sleepily. "It was just Fortune and I. Takeshi had to deal with Akemi's wolves two days ago . . . or three? I don't know, I've lost track of time in the snow."
Gaelph looked nearly panicked at her answer. "He wasn't with you? We need him!"
Hanako's tears burst their dam. Gaelph was helpless to comfort her, so he simply left her alone as he returned to the kitchen and tried to figure out a new course of action.
Usagi thrust her notebook back into her bag in frustration. She didn't know what Gaelph's new course of action was. She no longer felt like it was worth continuing her work on this version of the story and she wasn't prepared to start the Fujita version yet. It was too painful to contemplate chopping up the story they had shared into a more formulaic, controlled, proper tale. It was too much like the cutting and compartmentalizing she felt was happening to her in real life.
She rolled over on the grass, eyes vacantly gazing up at the carefree puffy clouds above her. Now that she knew Fujita-sensei's threat was an empty one, that she would effortlessly float on through the next year and one month of school, she wondered why she should bother with the story anymore. Or with any coursework, for that matter. In a year, she would no longer be legally compelled to go to school. In fact, she could just stop attending now and no one would be able to force her to go back if she didn't want to.
And if she failed Fujita-sensei like this, she definitely didn't want to go back!
She mused a while longer on her delusion of breaking free of her institutionalized education. But, at 15, what jobs would be available to her, a graduate of only junior high? Surely even if she limped through high school with the shakiest of grades, that would open more doors than if she dropped out. Besides, whatever damage she'd done to their friendship, Mamoru's generous support needed to be properly repaid.
Reinvigorated, Usagi pulled out her drafts binder and her black notebook with the embossed iridescent unicorn and began an outline of "Hanako 2.0".
Mamoru joined the throng of students trekking up the steps of Hikawa Jinja. He hadn't realized how many students relied on last minute prayers and lucky charms instead of consistent and responsible studying. The crowd's energy made him feel conspicuous and uncomfortable, the sensation increased by Rei's reaction when he finally found her.
"What are you doing here, Mamoru-san?" Rei asked, so surprised to see him that her tone sounded unwelcoming. Ami might buy a talisman or make a wish because that was the cultural expectation, but the idea of Mamoru relying on anyone or anything outside himself was inconceivable to her. "I was hoping to talk to you about Usagi," he muttered, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, feeling like this might have been a bad idea. Rei looked around at the crowd, inclined to send him away. However, something in his aura gave her pause, so she waved him over to the room they used for senshi meetings. Grandpa noticed them and followed silently.
Ikuko clutched the story to her chest, tears of pride stinging her eyes. She'd been so invested in the world that Usagi had crafted that she'd lost track of time. Kenji walked into the kitchen, gazing in confusion at his wife and the lack of breakfast supplies on the table. He cleared his throat awkwardly, startling her out of her reverie.
As Ikuko jumped up to resume breakfast preparations, she passed the packet to her husband. "I've found out why Usagi's been so busy with her study group," she said softly. "I think you'll appreciate her work."
Kenji looked askance at his wife's praise of a story that began with "It was a dark and boring night. A night you could throw tantrums on and steal cookies." Moments later, coffee in hand, he was drawn into his daughter's creation.
Rei had barely sat down when Mamoru blurted, "Usagi confessed her 'undying love' for me last night," using his fingers to create air quotes. The action immediately irritated her.
"Wow," she commented carefully, striving for neutrality. "And how are you feeling about that?"
Mamoru huffed, "How do you think I'm feeling about that? She's 14! It's weird! I mean, there's a pretty significant age gap. It might not be so weird if we were both older, but right now, it's extremely questionable. Then there's the stories about her dad." His words were rushed, as if he expected her to argue with him and he wanted to get all of his thoughts out before she tried. "On top of that, how well does she really know me? How can she even trust whatever she thinks she's feeling?" He rubbed his temples and paused, finally looking at her. "This situation is wrong. Surely you can see that?"
Rei frowned. "I think we both know that Usagi is in tune with her feelings. If says she loves you, then she loves you. I don't think you should question that." She watched defiance flash across his face, then fade. "I'm not saying you aren't right to have concerns. But please don't minimize Usagi's feelings."
Mamoru fought back, "Emotions are unreliable! Changeable!"
Rei held up a hand, silently asking him to calm down. They were quiet for a long moment. "Aside from your justifications, I need to know how you feel."
Mamoru resisted the urge to groan, "How I feel? I like Usagi. She's not the spoiled brat I used to think she was. But this isn't about me, it's about Usagi's misplaced affection. I need your help here."
Rei looked confused. "Have you told her you don't feel the same way?" She didn't understand why this solution wasn't obvious.
Mamoru looked away, "She doesn't care." Rei's expression grew troubled and Mamoru begrudgingly clarified, "She claimed she just wanted me to know, that she had no expectations from me." He rested his arms on the table, studying his hands. "It's unthinkable. For someone to love me, they'd have to overlook a lot of flaws."
Rei flinched, his words unintentionally hitting a nerve. "I know that feeling," she murmured, and for a moment he felt like they were allies. That feeling vanished when she spoke again. "I think you might be over-reacting, to be honest. If Usagi isn't pushing you to love her back, isn't asking for a relationship, then why are you so afraid of her feelings for you?"
The conversation with Rei was not going the way Mamoru had hoped. "If you don't think people jumping to conclusions about us is a valid concern, then how about we try all the reasons that she should not be interested in me, then?" he challenged. His innermost self did not want to engage in this self-flagellation, but a trait by trait character assassination seemed to be required, if he was to get Rei on board his sabotage train. "I'm introverted; I prefer a spartan life, free of physical and emotional clutter. I have very little trust in other people and I believe my distrust is justified. I have no desire to change my habits. I'm naturally grumpy. Case in point, I haven't time for the demands of this super-hero stuff, but I've been forced to make it work. I resent that intrusion in my life." He deliberately avoided any mention of how much having friendly ties with the girls brightened his life in a way that actually did make him feel happy, because he had only recently proven to himself how little those bonds mattered.
Rei looked unconvinced, so he pulled out last night as his ammunition. "I didn't want to save you two last night."
He let the words hang there in the air, watched Rei's eyes narrow in thought as she processed his words, her "spiritual adviser" role slipping a bit. He regretted the initial hurt he'd seen flare in her purplish eyes, but he knew he'd found a weapon that could justify his unworthiness as a human being.
"I'm going to need more of an explanation." Rei's words were flat; he knew she didn't really want to accept his words at face value.
He sighed heavily, "All I cared about was Sailor Moon's safety. I didn't care about the victims, including the two of you, when it came to her going up against them alone. Nothing mattered but her."
"Usagi."
He twisted the knife, feeling like a grey lie was needed now, "Sailor Moon."
Rei leaned back, thoughtfully. He let her think; his eyes wandering around the room as he continued mentally stockpiling more ammunition, in the form of reasons and excuses, of defenses as well as attacks. He could destroy their image of him, if he just found the right words.
Rei finally sighed heavily. "Your argument now is that you differentiate between Usagi's dual roles. That you have built a friendship, encouraging more whether you meant to or not, solely because of your obligations to Sailor Moon. You are claiming Usagi herself doesn't matter to you."
Mamoru nodded, unrepentantly embracing her interpretation. "Obligation is the perfect word, Rei-san. I wouldn't have chosen this path if I didn't have some kind of unavoidable pull to be involved."
"I see," Rei murmured. "This is a lot to take in, given your previous statements at senshi meetings, when you seemed almost enthusiastic about joining our team."
Mamoru hung his head, "I'm sorry. I thought I could finally gain more understanding about this burden, that sharing it would make me resent it less. Instead, it caused intrusive interpersonal bonds to form that have now become inconvenient and embarrassing. After last night, I think it proves that I'm not the kind of person who forms strong ties to other people. In fact, I'd probably be better off if I could somehow resign this whole Tuxedo Kamen gig."
Rei needed time to think. His words sounded sincere, but something felt off. She wondered if he was trying to upset her. She suspected he was acting out of a fear that he refused to put into words, a fear she couldn't define.
Her grandfather provided a not entirely unwelcome interruption. "Rei, my dear, I need you out here," he called after tapping respectfully on the door frame. Rei excused herself, leaving Grandpa Hino and Mamoru alone. Unnerved by Grandpa Hino's discerning gaze, Mamoru struggled to force his feet into his shoes. When Mamoru rose, the old man placed a restraining hand on Mamoru's arm. "Consider your path wisely, young man. You are embarking on a long-term solution to a short-term problem. Be sure you won't regret your actions in a few years." He smiled warmly at the frowning young man towering over him and shuffled away, following his grand-daughter and rejoining the throng of boon-seekers.
Mamoru ran a hand through his distressed hair and kicked his toes against a wooden post to adjust the fit of his hastily donned shoes. Grandpa Hino's words dove-tailed with the rebellious part of him that didn't want to push Usagi away. And his spur-of-the-moment idea to undermine the team seemed exceptionally stupid as the heat of their argument faded away.
Hanako's tears slowly slowed as her resolve began to harden again. She might not know if Takeshi still lived, but she would not give up now. Their quest could not end like this. She took a steadying breath, then approached the agitated wizard.
"Sir, I don't know what the future holds, but we have to move forward. Surely our best attempt is more worthy than no attempt at all, even if the odds are against us."
Gaelph flapped his hands about wildly as he started and stopped a number of arguments against Hanako's plan, though none were cohesive enough for the sleep-deprived, half-frozen, desperate princess to heed. Finally, he sighed. "Without your expected companion, we will be lacking!"
"You keep saying that. However, I'm going to fight her, with or without your aid." She squared her shoulders and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Gaelph yelped, leaping between her and the door. "You can't go back out there? You're half-dead already! You'll never make it back if you leave now." He pushed her away from the door and towards the only other room in his small home. "Go sleep. I need to think. You need to regain your strength. Nothing can be done tonight."
Hanako acquiesced, with the understanding that whatever he decided, she was leaving the next day.
When Hanako awoke, it was night yet again. She was quite irritated that Gaelph had let her sleep nearly an entire day through, but she tried to hide it while he explained his concerns to her. "If we leave in two days' time, I think that will give me enough time to come up with a new plan. I'm sorry, Princess, but there's much to alter. I need to create some new talismans, prepare different spells, and..."
"Shhh! Do you feel that?" Hanako interrupted as a tremor shifted the floor beneath her feet.
Gaelph stilled as the tremors increased. "I've never experienced anything like this before!" he yelled over the noise of his possessions falling all around them. They both sought shelter under his table, cowering beneath it as the intensity of the tremors threatened to bring down the roof.
Finally, suddenly, the shaking and the noise stopped. The silence was eerie. Gaelph was cautious, but Hanako burst out from beneath the table, fear catching at her throat. "Fortune! I have to check on him!"
"Wait!"
Hanako ignored the timid wizard and wrenched the misaligned door open, charging into the snow towards the stables. The darkness disoriented her and she tripped headlong over something. Something that hissed angrily and lunged at her.
"No, stop!"
Hanako couldn't breathe. She stared up into the terrifying visage of a giant spider, legs raised, fangs dripping, and she wanted to scream. But she heard that voice, the one she thought she'd never hear again, and she wanted to sing. Takeshi was alive! He was alive and oh god they were going to get killed by a huge spider!
Gaelph launched a glowing orb into the night sky, illuminating a pack of wolf-sized spiders, an impressively terrifying woman-spider hybrid, an immobolized princess, and a man navigating a path through the spiders to Hanako. "What in the fires of Eltrinith?" he mumbled.
Takeshi held out his hand to the offended spider. "She didn't see you. She's a friend." He shook Hanako's shoulder gently and whispered, "Apologize."
"Apolo…, um, yes, of course," Hanako babbled. "I'm so sorry. I was worried about my horse, I didn't know anyone was out here. Are you . . . hurt?"
The spider chittered, waving two of its legs around for a bit. Takeshi watched it intensely and Hanako wondered if he understood what it was saying. After some extended leg waving, the spider walked away.
"Are you hurt?" Takeshi asked, helping Hanako to her feet.
"No, I don't think so," she replied absently, still looking around at the spider army that surrounded them. She then turned to him, frantic, "Are you? How did you escape? Why are there spiders?"
A throaty laugh bubbled up behind them, "Oh, to be so young."
Hanako peered around Takeshi's body and her eyes widened at the sight of the beautifully horrifying Spider-Queen. "Um, hello," she squeaked.
Kumoko laughed again, then stilled. "Where is Sanae? Why has she not come to greet me?"
Hanako and Gaelph exchanged confused glances, "Who is Sanae?"
"My foster daughter. She should be here, with your mare." The hybrid woman clicked furiously at her army and they scuttled away, into the night, leaving only their footprints in the snow as proof that Hanako wasn't hallucinating them.
A whinnying cry from the stables attracted Takeshi's attention and after another quick check on Hanako's health, he darted over to free Fortune from the dangerously slanting building.
In his brief absence, Gaelph and Hanako properly greeted Kumoko and offered her refreshments and apologies for the lack of shelter. In turn, Kumoko apologized for the damage their hasty arrival had caused.
An alarm on her watch chirped, pulling Usagi out of her story. Hastily putting the pages into her backpack, she headed towards Hikawa Jinja. She wanted to say a prayer for Ami's success that afternoon and maybe one for some guidance in her own life.
Across town, Ami arrived at her testing hall, head still a little sore after the late night battle. She clutched her admission slip tightly, anxious about losing it. A rumble of thunder caught her attention for a moment, immediately making her think about her dearest friend. The sky looked perfectly clear and a moment later she realized the testing hall was playing a nature soundtrack in the main lobby. Sighing in relief, she promised herself that after the testing ended on Sunday afternoon, she'd take some time off to spend with Usagi, just the two of them.
She moved to stand near the water feature, centering herself, pushing back her distractions and worries. A chime announced that the doors to her assigned testing room would be opening in 5 minutes. She was ready.
AN: A thousand apologies to those still following for the long wait. I can't tell you how challenging I found this chapter. Lots of different directions pulled at me and I know that some of you wouldn't be happy no matter which path I took. Hopefully this one is enjoyable. Much thanks to my beta, Pia Bartolini, who worked extensively with me on many parts of this. Other parts are un-beta'd and may end up edited.